Party of Five - A game of Po

by Vasileios Kalampakas

  * * *

  Theo opened his eyes and couldn’t see a thing. He blinked a couple of times until his eyes adjusted to the nearly total lack of light. Still, he saw nothing more than a faint orange glow caressing a crude opening somewhere to his right. He surmised he was in a large room of some kind. The atmosphere was warm and pleasant, with an earthly feeling about it. Theo felt his hands itch; he then heard the sound of rustling leaves as he propped himself up, resting on his hands. He was lying on a bed of leaves. Oak leaves, judging by their fuzziness factor. Theo only knew this wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

  He then remembered falling off the promenade, trying to swim in space after flying had somehow failed him. And then he remembered the piers off the huge branches, all kinds of ships in their berths; lights on the promenades and the ledges of the giant tree. Everything had seemed to go by at a steady, easy speed. Perhaps it was him falling downwards, he wondered briefly; he never was good with the technicalities of events.

  He got up and blindly staggered forward, his hands splayed with open palms. He was hoping to find a wall or a lamp, anything that could illuminate his whereabouts in any helpful way, literally or not. His eyes tried to pierce the darkness, without much success. It wasn’t the usual sort of darkness his elven eyes could at least help him navigate without tripping and landing on something unhealthy.

  After the first few steps, the sound of leaves under his feet became a mute, silent caress. Theo was stepping on fuzzy, soft grass. His outstretched hands then bumped onto something soft and furry. The unknown surface was warm and inviting to the touch; it felt strange to Theo, yet somehow familiar. He seeked its outline with both hands; the soft fuzziness stretched onto a wide arc before it dipped downwards and then upwards again, like some sort of peculiar mass of rolling hills.

  “I gather you’re awake,” said a deep, rumbling voice with a hint of annoyance, followed by a low-keyed snarl. No answer came from Theo; he was hard at thought about how to answer. It wasn’t a question per se, but it did make him think about whether or not he was genuinely awake.

  “I’m not sure. How can I tell if this isn’t a dream?” said Theo in absolute seriousness, his hands groping the soft furriness in front of him reflexively. He then felt a slap across his face that left him speechless and his hands frozen stiff, now groping nothing but air. There was a loud clap-like sound like wood meeting stone and then light suddenly poured from numerous points that seemed set in a circle around him.

  As light filled the emptiness it quickly defined a large enclosed space, the natural walls nothing more than huge root outgrowths. Theo realised he was in an indoor grove of sorts; the dirt floor was covered in grass. There flowers, various small trees and little gardens; water and naked roots abounded.

  The most inescapable reality though was that the voice seemed to belong to a nine-foot tall bear wearing a bright, orange toga down to its waist, decorated with blood-red shapes and some sort of writing.

  Theo glanced at his splayed hands and realised his shoulders were the same height as the bear’s behinds. The bear, as if on cue, turned around and lowered its head. Theo hoped that perhaps by some sort of small mercy and an inordinate amount of luck the bear would be deaf, dumb and blind. It wasn’t so; the beer stooped low and seeked eye contact with Theo. Its eyes were the colour of honey and its rotund, white-grey face nearly filled Theo’s view in an imposing manner. The elf raised his eyes almost involuntarily; their gazes locked. There was a stern, crystal-clear shine about the bear’s eyes, like a pair of tiny, spotless, golden mirror beads. The bear stood there for a moment before it made a statement with an elevated sense of importance.

  “Now, you stand enlightened.”

  “Do I?” asked Theo befuddled, nursing his flush-red cheek. The bear nodded just once, but its whole bulk seemed to shake as well.

  “Question everything; that is the path of balance.”

  The words came effortlessly, as if recited. There was approval in the bear’s gravely voice.

  “Where is that path?” said Theo, his eyes darting all around the floor and then the walls, literally searching for some kind of path or trail.

  “Within,” said the bear and bowed with reverence, its great paws pointing to its huge chest, “and without,” it added stretching its hands. Theo looked nothing less than confused. He barely managed a word purely out of trying to appear polite, especially since he had - however inadvertently - grabbed the bear’s behinds not a minute earlier.

  “Ah.”

  The bear motioned with one paw for Theo to lay himself on the ground as it did so as well. Theo looked a bit undecided, but nevertheless sat down on a patch of grass right beside a short, delicate-looking tree. Water ran under it in a small stream not wider than a man’s palm. The bear sat itself down near the old, mossy bark of the wooden walls. A few feet separated the two of them. When the bear spoke, its voice reverberated serenely across the picturesque grove.

  “Please, sit. Let us share.”

  Theo searched his robe’s pockets and felt embarassed to find nothing but a piece of lint. He then realized the crystal was still lodged inside that strange chair. That also brought to mind Bo; the bunny was nowhere around. Theo suddenly felt a chill rise up his spine and a terrible feeling of loneliness overcame him. The bear saw Theo was looking nervous.

  “Are you thirsty, friend?” asked the bear gently.

  “Is there a wrong answer?” countered Theo with some alarm in his voice. A wide, homely smile formed on the bear’s mouth. It seemed to be surprisingly happy.

  “Indeed. There is no wrong answer; there is no right question. The universe, my friend, is always in flux.”

  “Then I guess a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

  The bear nodded and flexed its torso around in an astounding show of agility. It reached for a couple of bear-sized wooden cups perched on a natural shelf along the walls. He offered one cup to Theo who held it in both hands much more like he would a jar or a vase. The bear put its own cup down on the ground and made a gesture with both its front legs that it used readily like arms. It matched both its paws, flexing the edges preternaturally, forming some kind of winged shape, and closed its eyes.

  A loud hum then reverberated outwards from the bear’s chest in a rhythmic pattern. The humming stopped abruptly a few moments later, just as it was beginning to become too loud for comfort. Theo was about to ask for a cup the size he could handle, when suddenly a swarm of lights filled the grove. They whirled around them with a benign, almost melodic buzz. The swarm looked like tiny sparkles of glittering raindrops fluttering in the air; it suddenly split in two, and each part dived away like a single mass in each cup, spinning wildly inside.

  The next moment, their shininess was no more; all that remained was little ember specks wafting in the air, vanishing as swiftly as they had appeared.

  The bear raised its cup and bowed imperceptibly. It then opened its eyes and cocked its head in a manner which implied it was having a spiffy time indeed. That, or it was right about ready to rip the living flesh out of Theo in one bite.

  “My name is Tejwel Al-Dub. May the desert be fruitful,” he said and drank the cup in one go. Theo looked at his own cup and saw a wonderful, golden-hued liquid sloshing easily about the cup, starry like a summertime’s sea. Theo took a careful, measured sip. His mouth felt like an ocean tide ridden with flowers; his stomach was instantly placated and felt full. His heart felt warm and his mind was put at ease. It felt like drinking the stuff of dreams.

  “I must admit, I’ve only heard of deserts, but I’ve seen sand and there wasn’t a lot of fruit involved. I hate to sound rude, though I fear grabbing your behind like I did earlier doesn’t make a good first impression, but honestly: What is this stuff? It’s like distilled magic!” asked Theo blatantly, with just the right amount of solid naivety and amazement. The bear smiled heartily, its eyes nearly lost in their furried sockets.

  “The past is always gone from sight, friend. Your cup is filled with
glowdew,” replied Tejwel and added, “How does the wind carry your face, friend?”

  “I hope it doesn’t. I’m really attached to it,” said Theo sounding seriously worried. Tej laughed and his whole body jiggled along.

  “I only meant to ask your name friend. It’s an expression around the parts where I was born.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve only recently travelled to space for the first time so a lot of this is new to me,” Theo said apologetically and straightened his somewhat ruffled hair. “I’m Hanultheofodor Trypthwifidyr. My..” Theo stumbled for a moment but nodded to himself and continued with a wavering smile, “My friends call me Theo.”

  “When I was but a cub the elders called me Tej. Sometimes, I long for those simpler times; I was unaware, but not ignorant. Now I know there can be only one awareness, but I’ve yet to find its roots.”

  “I don’t understand. What does that mean?” asked Theo. Tejwel was to engrossed in thought to answer. He spoke with a clear, proud voice.

  “I shall call you Hanul, in the manner of my ancestors.”

  “But my name’s Theo.”

  “That was before you became enlightened.”

  “I am enlightened?”

  Tej clapped his hands and complete darkness overcame them as light vanished like a swiftly waning moon. He then asked Theo, his eyes still glittering faintly in the dark:

  “What do you see?”

  “Darkness,” replied Theo flatly, still not sure what the obvious questions were all about.

  “Exactly!” cried Tej with excitement.

  “Is there something else to see?”

  “Is there, really?” wondered Tej with a sombre voice that was meant to carry deep, profound meanings.

  “I don’t live here. You should know better,” said Theo with a crease on his forehead. The bear erupted in joyous, body-shaking laughter.

  “And you say wonder about enlightenment!”

  Theo felt befuddled, perhaps more than ever. He tried to inch his way through the darkness; his hands met the cup and it spilled all over his waist and legs.

  “I’m afraid my cup runneth over,” said Theo apologetically. Tej replied in the same manner:

  “Fret not dear Hanul, for nothing but grass grows beneath us still.”

  An uneasy silence followed until Theo felt a pleasant wetness in his nether regions.

  “I think I soiled my underpants with glowdew.”