by Pete Lockett
“Is that a dance?” replied Ed.
“No silly, it’s a drum roll: Mum-my – Dad-dy, right, right, left, left. That’s our route, that’s what you need to remember. There are four turns in that sequence which correspond to the tunnel intersections. Have you got it?”
“Yes, I’ll remember that.”
“Mum-my – Dad-dy, right, right, left, left,” reiterated Yedida.
“Yes, yes, I’ve got it,” grumbled Ed and they continued on their way, trudging through the perfect sand. They remained silent for some while as they squelched onwards.
“How do people know how long they’ve been here? Do you count your sleep cycles? What do you do?”
“That’s the best way, although I gave up interest after forty or so years. You would always get an approximate guideline from new arrivals telling you what year they died. To be honest, I am not overly interested what year it is. Why do I need to know? I haven’t even asked you what year you died, have I?”
“That’s true. For your reference though, just in case you do need to know, I died in 2009.”
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem. Anyway, I was meaning to ask. Bearing in mind how long you’ve been here and how much opportunity for reflection you’ve had, do you think there is some great omnipotent force manipulating us into this transient cycle, judging us for what we did or didn’t do, punishing or rewarding us accordingly?”
“Honestly, Ed I don’t think so. The people here are so varied, from serial killers to charity workers, murderers and criminals to nurses and Samaritans. It is just too much of a cross-section to be anything like that. I honestly think it’s just random and that transient souls cannot live in a new body for more than a few days without losing their energy, fading or else becoming permanent. I really think that’s all there is to it and there are a lot of us down here that agree. People on the outside were always talking about enlightenment, nirvana or something mystical to veneer over their true selves.
Maybe realising that ‘this is your lot’ is all there is to it and that we are nothing more or less than the reality we are in at any time.”
“What about having to solve the mystery of why this is happening?”
“Maybe there is no mystery. It just is as it is.”
“Then I would be chasing a folly.”
“Possibly. It might also be that searching for the answer helps you understand the situation as it is, rather than seeking to influence change. The more you travel between transient embodiments, then the more you learn and develop naturally. Perhaps instead of realising there’s an external mystery or question you need to penetrate, it might be that you need to discover something about yourself. Maybe the answer to a question – if there is a question in the first place – is within you all the time,” replied Yedida with introspective wisdom.
“Is that what you felt personally?”
“Yes, for sure. I spent some time feeling that there must have been something up with me and my people for us to have been treated like that. Why else would people act en masse and make us slaves or send us to concentration camps and murder or exploit us? I couldn’t unravel how that could be possible without blaming myself and demeaning my own self worth. Even in the camp whilst I was still alive, I felt that if I acted well and tried to please them then I would stand a better chance. How wrong that was. It was no more than pleading for mercy by compliance. It took a long time once I was here, to balance my thoughts, feelings, sensations and intuitions on the whole thing and stop blaming myself.”
“That can’t have been easy. How on earth did you come to terms with what your father did?” queried Ed, his memory jogged unconsciously by the ‘mummy daddy’ roll that Yedida had used to illustrate the route.
“That was a very difficult one to unravel without self blame. He had been a hard-working man but was always a bit remote from us. He would work every day of the week, only surfacing a bit in the evenings. It meant that we were not that close which I suppose made it easier for him to switch sides like he did. I know he was getting abused for having a black wife and daughter, and his shop had been attacked a couple of times. Maybe he just got sick of being scared and decided to do what he did. Truth is, he was as powerless as a doormat with all the ambition of a napkin.”
“Ha, nice one. Of everything I’ve heard so far though, all the horror stories from various people and all the bad and negative things, this is the thing that disturbs me the most. How could he have abandoned you like that? What a scumbag and coward – if you don’t mind me saying?” replied Ed emotionally.
“No, I don’t mind. It still hurts. I really hope he never arrives here. It is resolved in my mind on the rational side but it would be a hard cross to bear.”
“What happens in situations like that, when people come face to face after an extreme conflict in their human lives?”
“Well one thing’s for sure, if they stay here then they have time on their side to be honest and understand the issues. If they’re reluctant, they usually decide to move on. If they do stay, they have to sit together in a debating group. It can take decades to understand all the complex feelings but as time moves on, things nearly always get resolved.”
“I find it hard to imagine how some situations and relationships could ever be reconciled.”
“Absolutely. It’s sometimes very problematic. There’s hope though, if someone comes to terms with their wrongs and acknowledges them and is at the same time forgiven, or at least understood by their victims. In here, people somehow seem to have more empathy and respect for each other. They’re less selfish and tend to have their perspectives on life more in balance. There are a lot of things that cause conflict in the physical world such as sex, ambition, greed, lust, gluttony, ownership and so on. We simply don’t have that here. Without it, people seem to adjust to one another in a more humane and natural way. Once they’ve been here for a while, they get used to that way of life, making it easier to apologise and forgive or understand, regardless of the misdemeanour.”
“Isn’t it a bit of an over-simplistic or idealistically naive approach?”
“What’s the alternative? Eternal conflict? Civilisation seemed to specialise in never-ending bitter resentments that would fester from generation to generation, destroying people’s hopes and prospects. Surely it’s better to bury the hatchet and move on with a clean slate, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do. It would obviously be preferable, some sort of redemption at the gates of heaven - not that this is heaven of course.”
“Yes, redemption - but one you have to work for, not just a clean slate for being a disciple of something.”
“Pity that mankind can’t learn from the work you do in here. Such potential as a species but certainly not destined to realise it. Makes me feel almost relieved to be dead. Talking of heaven, don’t some people think they have arrived in heaven when they first arrive?”
“Sometimes. They soon realise it isn’t though when they see who is here. Then we have to convince them it isn’t hell either.”
“Ha, yes. I guess so.” replied Ed as they carried on along the way through the dimly lit vine tunnels.
Chapter 14
ONE, TWO, PUSH
The duo had come to a halt and rested against the vines at a complex intersection. It had been a tiring uphill walk since the tunnel crossing and Ed felt it in his legs. They sat for some while in a calm meditative state, comforted by a reassuring silence. Ed felt the soft thumping of his heart and noticed the delicate exhalations from his mouth passing his dry lips.
“Listen,” whispered Ed, piercing the silence.
“What? Listen to what?”
“Exactly. It’s perfectly silent. You don’t notice it so much when you’re squelching along in the sand but there’s a pin drop hush, not even the faintest rumbling,” replied Ed, as they both fell paused to listen to the emptiness.
“It’s beautiful, eh, something to behold,” said Yedida, her voice softly rippling i
nto the quiet.
“I don’t remember that too many times when I was alive. A few times we went camping when I was a kid but there was always some sort of animal bleating or a couple of foxes having noisy liaisons. This is quite special though.”
Once again the couple fell silent and Ed began to reflect a little on the environment. The temperature had been consistent, approximately around twenty degrees, not too hot and not too cold. However, as they proceeded on their current journey it started to chill by a degree or so. Ed was very sensitive to temperatures and thought back fondly on the friendly battles he had with his wife to gain control of hotel room air conditioning thermostats when they visited warm countries.
He put his hands through the vines and onto the shiny granite stone walls, first his left, then his right. It felt cool to the touch but not as cold as he imagined stone should be. He rubbed his hands up and down over the uneven but smooth, almost polished surface. It felt glorious, making his hands tingle as they moved back and forth, to and fro.
“It’s awe inspiring isn’t it,” he exclaimed, pulling his hands away and between the vines to turn and look at Yedida.
“Yes, really nice to touch, eh. Have you noticed it’s getting a little chillier as well?”
“I did notice that. Is it much colder where the Viking lives?”
“Not much, maybe a degree or so. You won’t notice it once you’ve been there a while.”
Ed started to feel a little trepidation about his visit. Everything seemed to be masked in uncertainty and it was starting to make him feel disoriented once more.
“It’s weird being in here, caught in this whole cycle of things, Yedida.”
“In what way? I thought you’d been dealing with it really well up to now.”
“Yes, but that’s because I keep getting caught up in the mystery of the whole thing and blot out what’s really happening. It’s a real quandary and everyone I’ve met so far seems to have a different view about it. It makes me very ambivalent and very depressed about everything, all this guesswork, inconclusiveness and uncertainty. It’s psychologically exhausting,” replied Ed despairingly, his posture slightly slumped.
“Whatever you do, Ed, you have to believe that one day you will become enlightened. You have an awareness and consciousness that helps you make definite decisions. Even if you don’t really know what the decisions are about, they are decisions all the same and they put you in a position of power. However minimal that power might be is irrelevant. You still have something and you have to cling onto that for all it’s worth.”
“You’re right. I am getting down on myself. I really need to snap out of it.”
“Look how far you’ve come already. The tortoise and then the other tunnels; the cat, the hound and the determination to climb the ladder and come all the way here. The glass is half full, not half empty. Come on, let’s go. We should be on our way.”
Yedida started to head off into the tunnel.
“Thanks, Yedida. You are a real support.”
“I’ve had to do it before. Don’t worry. The worst that can happen is that you get used to all this. Anyway, from here the journey gets a little trickier. The tunnel gets smaller and smaller and by the end we have to crawl through it. It becomes rather tight and we’ll have to push ourselves through the last section. I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” announced Yedida.
“Not particularly but I don’t altogether like the idea. How tight does it get?”
“Pretty tight. First timers feel they’ll never be able to push themselves through. It feels kind of elasticated and pushes in against you but that’s only for the last few yards.”
“Okay. Another step along the way. Is there anything after that?” enquired Ed.
“That’s where I’ll leave you, the other side of the tunnel.”
“Oh,” replied Ed with more than a degree of sadness in his voice. He looked down the length of the tunnel and saw how it narrowed into the distance. The vines and lights also diminished in size proportionally making it look like a strange experiment with the ‘free transform’ tool in Photoshop. Soon they were off into the tunnel, bending their heads and stooping over as it got smaller and smaller. Soon they were on all fours crawling, arms stretched out in front of them in the soft sand, Ed first followed by Yedida. The sturdy vines got tighter and tighter across Ed’s back as he crawled deeper into the tunnel. He started to feel more like a champagne cork than a reincarnated hunting hound or suicidal Tortoise.
“Are you sure we can get through this, Yedida? I might be too big,” enquired Ed anxiously.
“Yes, I’ve taken bigger people through than you, don’t worry. If you feel you’re stuck I’ll help to push you,” she replied reassuringly.
“Thanks. I think that moment might be coming.”
“There’s not far to go, push, just push,” shouted Yedida.
“I am, but I feel like I’m going nowhere,” groaned Ed despairingly, feeling he was getting stuck in the restraint of the tunnel.
“Okay. I’ll push. You just have to believe. We’re nearly there. When I count to three, you push and I’ll give a shove on your feet from behind.”
“On three or four?”
“On three, exactly on three.”
“Right then, let’s do this,” anguished Ed, as he desperately tried to muster more strength.
ONE, TWO, PUSH…..
ONE, TWO, PUSH…..
ONE, TWO, PUSH…..
ONE, TWO, PUSH.
With this push, Ed’s hands and head popped out into an open chamber. He felt dazed, like a new born puppy.
ONE, TWO, PUSH…..
ONE, TWO, PUSH.
All of a sudden he was rocketed from the tunnel like a giant pea from an oversized elasticated pea shooter. The chamber floor was about two feet below the opening, and he landed hard, flat on his face in the sand. Tiny grains clogged his mouth, nostrils and ears. He picked himself up, spluttered, coughed and then saw Yedida’s arms poking from the hole. He gave them a tug and she too shot from the tunnel towards him, pushing them both to the floor, culminating, with her landing on top. Quickly they got up, dusted themselves down and looked around the small space.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” remarked Yedida, shaking sand from her silky hair.
“Yeah,” replied Ed, as he looked round at the intriguing shiny black granite walls with seams of equally opposite white stone. The sand was a piquant two-tone red and white, almost in a leopard skin pattern. The chamber was circular and small with seven cave openings opposite from their point of arrival. Ed looked back to where they had come from and was shocked to see a full sized tunnel entrance diminishing off into the distance.
“Did you see that? Look, it’s expanded! Did you notice it?”
“Once you’re through and there’s no one else in the tunnel, it switches to the opposite way around. It is bigger at this end and smaller at the other end for now, until I’ve gone back through it and then it reverts again.”
“Is that why I can’t go back?” enquired Ed.
“No. It’s when you’ve done the next leg of your journey, that’s when you can’t come back, at least not without another transience. We need to go into the fourth cave from the left, Ed,” stated Yedida, gesticulating with her arms.
“Why can’t I come back after the next leg?”
“Apparently it’s a one-way ticket. Anything we’ve discovered about the other side has been from people like you who have been there, then gone through another transience and landed back on our side.”
“Okay,” he replied as they counted off the caves and proceeded to the fourth one of the seven, all with uncut white granite archways around their side.
“Do the other caves lead anywhere?” queried Ed as they neared the entrance.
“Not to my knowledge. It just seems to be this one,” replied Yedida knowingly.
Once inside, they were greeted by a small and strange man dressed in light brown robes and an odd pair of homemade blue canva
s sandals. He stared down at the ground almost motionless his bald head brilliantly shiny like a polished gobstopper.
“This is the fortune teller. You need to meet him,” stated Yedida slightly nervously. Ed looked around, wondering what this strange fortune teller was all about, sitting inside a small cave with no entrances or exits other than the one they’d entered through. The odd man started to shuffle towards them, his arms jutting out from the torn sleeves of his robes. Ed noticed he had no hands, just round stubs where the wrist would have been. They were battered and worn and looked like they’d been amputated in a very messy and haphazard manner.
“I need to leave now, Ed. Give me a hug. It’s been fantastic meeting you. Thanks for being a sympathetic listener,” said Yedida, as she grabbed Ed by the shoulder, span him around, hugged him and left the small enclosure in a hurry.
“He is deaf, dumb and blind. You need to grab both his arms with your hands and you will find out what to do next. Good luck my friend, enjoy Denmark,” she shouted as she sped along the tunnel and back towards her home.
She disappeared from sight before Ed could respond with much more than ‘goodbye, thanks for everything’. He was shocked at the sudden turn of events, and felt sad to have lost her companionship. What’s more, who was this man, why would he need him to observe his future and what did she mean by ‘Denmark’? Besides, how the hell would he do it if he was deaf and dumb? Reluctantly he reached out towards the man, grabbing the two sticky, sweaty stubs, noticing the empty eye sockets covered in scarred skin. Instantly he was pulled with violence into a fast moving vacuum, like a human canon ball.
He couldn’t see or hear anything apart from the super-loud rushing noise that virtually penetrated his ear drums. Next he was in a cavernous blue ceramic bowl, enveloped by total silence. A blinding sun shone warmly on his face. He drifted in and out of consciousness, things getting fuzzier and fuzzier until he finally awoke between two strange red brick walls. He looked down and saw an urban street scene; a deprived area with young men brandishing automatic weapons. They were firing randomly into the scruffy apartment block on the other side of the street. He felt like he was in an un-liberated East Berlin.
