The Door

by Lorilyn Roberts

  I lay still. My head hurt from the fever. Could Daniel be with Dr. Luke? I was too sick to go after him. What would I say anyway? “I’m madly in love with you and I miss you”? Or the reason he was hired in the first place—“Nathan needs you.” I groaned.

  “Ca-ca. Need anything?”

  I shook my head as I lay on the blanket. “Make Judd’s life as miserable as possible.”

  Worldly Crow flapped his wings and took off. I half-wished he’d stayed. Loneliness stalked me like a rebuffed lover. I wanted to visit the animals but was too depressed. Perhaps a good night’s rest would refresh me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bullies and Demons

  The next morning before dawn, I climbed out of bed and tiptoed down to the cave. As I approached the door, disgruntled voices alarmed me. I drew closer.

  “Can’t you two go someplace else to discuss this?” a rooster crowed. “The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”

  I peered around to make sure no one saw me while I was eavesdropping. Lowly pleaded, “I-I don't want to go by myself. Can’t you come with m-me?”

  I cracked the door.

  “Go away.” Cherios burrowed into the haystack in the corner of the stable. Her white ears protruded out the top.

  Lowly crept over and bumped the bale with his backside. Cherios jumped out of the hay and zigzagged around the stall. “I don’t want to go with you.”

  Lowly persisted. “Look, Cherios, we need to do something or we’re going to starve. The pigs next door might share some garbage we could eat.”

  “Leftover garbage? I’m not going on a long walk to eat garbage.” Cherios licked her clean white fur. “You’re a pig. You eat all the garbage you want over there and bring me back some fresh carrots.”

  “I-I don’t want to go by myself.”

  “And you don’t worry about getting lost? Have you ever been over there?”

  I closed the door behind me and took a few steps into the room. The cave was not as tidy as when Daniel took care of things. “What’s going on? What is this about not enough food?”

  Baruch whinnied. “Miss Shale, you’re going to get yourself in trouble. If Judd sees you, you’d better run for the hills.”

  With Daniel gone, I wasn’t allowed in the cave. Judd didn’t like the pig and the rabbit annoyed him. If he had his way, he’d probably eat them for breakfast. Assassin looked as plump as ever. Having enough food wasn’t the problem—it was just going to the wrong animals.

  Lowly headed towards the door as if he expected me to open it.

  “Wait,” called Cherios.

  Lowly grunted and turned around.

  Cherios pounced to the door. “I’m coming with you.”

  “I am, too,” I said.

  “Both of you?” Lowly wiggled his curly tail.

  Cherios nodded confidently, “We’ll find something along the way.”

  The animals looked relieved from their burdensome spirit. I walked to the back of the stable and kissed Baruch on the nose.

  “Not enough oats,” he complained.

  I inspected the cave, looking for animal feed. “Do you know where Judd stores it?”

  “Towards the front.”

  After searching several containers, I found a little and poured the oats into Baruch’s feeding trough. “At least you won’t starve for one more day.”

  “Thank you, Miss Shale.”

  Much-Afraid joined us also. It would be the first time in a long time we had been away from my father’s land. I still felt a bit warm with fever but I wouldn’t let it ruin the day.

  Cherios’s constant chatter was delightful. She commented about everything as she hopped from rock to rock. “And the king made all kinds of trees to grow out of the ground—trees pleasing to the eye and good for food. Now we just need to find the food.”

  “I hope we can,” Lowly said. “My stomach is growling.”

  Cherios hopped onto a log and exclaimed, “Trust in the king, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of all these magnificent things is love.”

  “There’s not a lot of love around here,” Lowly grunted. “Especially for pigs. If we aren’t careful, we’ll end up on somebody’s plate for breakfast.”

  “In the garden, nobody gets eaten.” Cherios groaned. “It’s all because I hid in Baruch’s knapsack that I’m here.”

  “It could be worse,” I said.

  “Worse? The worst thing in the world is to be separated from the king’s love.” Cherios caught herself from becoming bitter. “We must bring a little bit of love here and represent the king.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Do you think we’ll ever see him again?”

  “I saw the king when I was with Baruch once in the wilderness, but that was quite a while back.” I added, “He didn’t look like a king even though Baruch said it was him. He was being taunted by a bully.” I walked along for a bit, lost in thought. “Did the king visit you in the garden?”

  “He was the gardener,” Cherios exclaimed. “He’d come down from the mountaintop and tell us fabulous stories. He’s the best story-teller in the whole universe.”

  “What’s at the top of the mountain?” I asked.

  “His mansion. Many rooms fill his house. He’s a magnificent carpenter. He told us he still had many rooms to build. He was preparing a place for everyone to come and stay with him. He promised someday there would be many, many more people living in the garden.”

  “I wish I could see him again,” I said.

  “Me, too. I would know him anywhere,” Cherios stated emphatically. She added, “Sometimes the king would leave the garden and go to a distant land. I never knew where he went.” Cherios sighed. “I miss his love most of all.”

  I thought about Cherios’s words. “I wish I’d met the king when I was there. Maybe someday I will.”

  We walked for a little longer as I lamented about what could have been. To keep the mood upbeat, I added. “It’s beautiful here, too, Cherios, just in a different way.”

  No one said anything else as we hiked along the hillside until two blood-curdling cries pierced my ears. Much-Afraid scrambled close to me.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  A sparsely-clothed man lumbered towards us. His long and dirty hair attracted flies that swirled about his head. His weathered hands were marred with sunspots and his fingers were knobby and thick. Bruised wrists showed tell-tell signs of abuse, as if shackled in chains. He reminded me of an animal—a beast that ate grass. The man’s eyes flashed contempt—a hate beyond ordinary dislike, a hate that wanted to kill.

  Shocked at the man’s appearance, I stood still. Much-Afraid came between us to prevent the wild man from drawing nearer. She raised her tail and snarled.

  The man stopped once he saw the dog. “Don’t hurt me,” he cried. His plaintive words pricked me. I pitied the man, but fear seized me when he came closer. Much-Afraid swooshed towards him.

  “No, Much-Afraid, come back here.” She ignored my pleas.

  Cherios and Lowly ran the other way to redirect the man away from Much-Afraid. Just as Much-Afraid charged, the man turned, escaping within inches of her clutches. I screamed, fearing one of them would get hurt. Soon the man ran off, however, and Much-Afraid and the others returned.

  “Are you okay?” the dog asked.

  “Yes.” I brushed down my dress with my hands, as if I could brush away fear.

  Cherios hopped towards me. “The man acted like he was an underling.”

  “An underling?” I repeated. “The last time I heard that word was the day Baruch and I saw the demon and the king in the wilderness.” I grabbed Much-Afraid around the neck and hugged her. “Thanks for saving my life.” We sat and rested on the hill to catch our breath.

  In the distance, a large herd of pigs grazed contentedly. A lake bordered the east side of the hill. On the other side, the land was vacant except for an abandoned cemetery overtaken by weeds. Yellow buttercups and dandelions had sprouted up in between the blades of gr
ass. I broke off a stem of one and blew the seeds into the air. The breeze carried them towards the lake.

  Cherios hopped on a rock, wiggled her nose, and sneezed. “Do we have to go any farther?”

  I studied the herd of pigs ahead. Where were the owners? I didn’t see a herder. With all the wild animals around, they must be close by.

  Lowly meandered over the hill to approach them. One of the large boars asked, “Who are you?”

  “I’m Lowly. Your neighbor to the west.”

  “So, what’s on your mind, Little Oinky?” The boar laughed.

  I cringed. Poor Lowly. He was so insecure and intimidated by others. Even in the animal world, pigs were scorned. I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t do anything with a wild boar. I waited for Lowly to answer the brute, but he was unable to put two words together—even in pig language.

  “Scared piggy, uh?” Several of the pigs roared. I flinched. Bullies, they were.

  “L-listen to me,” Lowly began. After clearing his throat, he continued hoarsely. “I’m very hungry.”

  A black boar stepped forward, dwarfing Lowly by his enormous size. “What did you say?” He spat in Lowly’s face. “Oh, sorry about that, my neighborly friend. I had to clear my throat.”

  Lowly wiped his snout on the grass. Pig bullies were like bullies at school. Their words stung. My stomach soured as I watched, but I was proud he didn’t run away.

  At last, a few words tumbled out. “I-I’m very hungry. I brought along my friends, Much-Afraid and Cherios.” Lowly nodded towards us. “Can we sh-share your food, a few scraps? We would be obliged by your kindness.”

  “Share our food with you?” The boar interrupted. “You think you can just mosey up to us and steal our leaves, fungi, roots, eggs, and earthworms? This is our hill.”

  Lowly inched away from the bully.

  The boar addressed the other pigs. “Did you hear that? He wants some of our food because he’s hungry.” He gawked. “Look at that silly bunny and stupid dog.”

  The pigs laughed.

  Lowly tried again. “We won’t eat much, just a little.”

  Before he could say another word, a heavy-weight sauntered up to Lowly and stared him down.

  “So, let’s settle it here and now. This is our land, you’re on our turf. You want our land. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “No, no, not at all,” Lowly pleaded.

  “Get off our hill—now.”

  Lowly ran back to Cherios, who sat perched on a rock cleaning her paw. As conflicted as I was, I dared not go near the brutes. Being charged once by a mad man was enough. Plus, they didn’t know I spoke pig talk.

  Then Cherios stood on her hind legs as she looked at something far away. I followed her eyes to an overgrown cemetery. The familiar man, who had threatened us before, burst out of the shadows. He stumbled about on the hill as if he were out of his mind.

  I was horrified. The man lived among the tombstones. What had he done to bring such a curse upon himself? Had he always been homeless?

  The man’s wailings increased. He darted from tomb to tomb, flailing his arms. What afflictions drove him to live here? His petulant eyes found me. I froze. He then turned and ran towards the pigs, scattering them on the hill.

  Much-Afraid stayed beside me, ready to charge him again if he approached.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Much-Afraid whispered to Lowly.

  “Look over there,” Lowly said. “I-I see a boat on the lake.”

  I peered towards the shoreline. The wind was calm and the water gently ebbed back and forth. A fishing boat pulled up. Two fishermen dropped an anchor and secured their belongings. A third man stood by surveying the area.

  It was about this time that the pigs’ herders ran down the hill. They approached cautiously, probably more out of concern for the welfare of their livestock. They must have heard the man’s cries.

  The crazy man ran towards the boars.

  “Get him out of here,” one of the shepherds shouted, “before he kills our pigs.”

  “We chain him night and day,” another one said, “but he breaks free.”

  “We should kill him and put him out of his misery.” All the while, the fishermen by the lake watched.

  Attempts to corral the wild man were unsuccessful. Everyone was afraid to approach him. He foamed at the mouth like a rabid animal. The possessed man then raced towards the lake. He uttered nonsensical words at the fishermen. The one he approached took great interest in him.

  Cherios bobbed up and down, wringing her paws and dancing. “That is the king. The king is here among us!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  King of Deliverance

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Once you’ve met the king, you never forget him.”

  The possessed man fell prostrate before the fisherman, weeping. In a loud, plaintive voice, the besieged man cried out, “What do you want with me, king of the most high? Swear that you won’t torture me.”

  “Torture—what is he afraid of?” I asked.

  His words haunted the lake like a siren’s mournful calls.

  A familiarity seized me. Déjà vu. The wilderness memory exploded in my mind.

  The king said to him, “Come out, you evil spirit.”

  Was the man possessed by demons? Were there underlings roaming the earth looking for an unfortunate victim? The anguished soul stood still for the first time in front of the fisherman, captivated by the king’s eyes.

  From off the lake, a breeze stirred, slowly at first and then gaining momentum. Like onion skin, vaporous creatures peeled from the madman, coming out of his brain. The swirling wind tore at the naked and exposed shape shifters. The black, formless creatures were like bats without bodies.

  The dark beings smelled rancid and the awful odor settled over everything. The demons cowered submissively before the king. The creatures hissed and screeched and made fools of themselves. The fearful pig herders withdrew a safe distance.

  The king asked, “What is your name?”

  “My name is Legion,” one of the demons replied, “for we are many.”

  The king’s power and authority over the spirits was omnipotent. The underlings knew him. They knew the king. The muscles in my shoulders tensed and my legs twitched. Much-Afraid hid her face under my arm.

  The demons begged, “Please, do not send us out of the area.” They pointed to the pigs. “Send us among the pigs. Allow us to go into them.”

  At the king’s command, they fled from the man and entered the herd. Their formless bodies slid inside the pigs. I shuddered. The pigs shook violently. The herd, numbering in the thousands, stampeded down the steep bank and headed straight into the lake.

  The herdsmen watched their valuable livestock disappear and shouted accusations at the king. “By whose authority did you drown our herd?” They flailed their arms at the fishermen and the shepherds traipsed back up the field resolute for answers. “Who is this man that sends pigs into the lake? By what authority does he do such things?” They continued to argue among themselves.

  At first, Cherios, Lowly, Much-Afraid and I were too stunned to speak. Cherios spoke first. “Lowly, that is the king, the king of the garden. He’s here. The king is here among us.”

  “J-just as Baruch told us,” replied Lowly, “But I didn’t believe him. I-I mean, I sort of did, but now that I’ve seen with my own eyes, I believe better.”

  We continued to watch, but the deranged man’s appearance was now strikingly different. He had washed his hair, face, and hands in the lake and sat quietly at the king’s feet. One of the others brought him clothes.

  The cemetery prisoner no longer flailed about like an ox in distress. For the first time, a faint smile covered his face—a face alive with hope. Thankfulness exuded from his every pore. A miraculous cleansing transformed more than the man’s outward appearance—he was set free from within.

  By this time, crowds of people swarmed the hillside, having heard the herdsmen’s
rants.

  “Please leave us,” they cried. “We don’t want you around here.”

  We hung around for a few hours, but I was too afraid to get close to the king. Besides, others wanted his attention—and I wasn’t sure what I would say. Torn between wanting to be near him yet afraid to get too close, I lingered, watching and hoping someday I’d be brave enough to approach him.

  Later in the afternoon, the fishermen began preparations to leave, but the cemetery man the king healed ran up to him and begged, “Please, let me go with you.”

  The king said, “Go home to your family. Tell them what I did for you and how I had mercy on you.” So the man went away to do as the king instructed.

  Soon the fishermen unhooked their boat and left. Sadness filled me that I didn’t meet the king. Would I have another chance?

  I was drawn to him in a way I didn’t understand. Who was he that even the underlings obeyed him?

  On the way home, Cherios was unusually quiet. Lowly kept mumbling, “I-I know you’re the king, I-I believe you’re the king, I accept you as the king,” until Cherios asked him why he felt like he had to say it so many different ways.

  “Suppose I didn’t do it right the first time,” Lowly replied.

  “Do what the first time?” Cherios asked.

  “Suppose he didn’t hear me?”

  “Lowly, the king heard you the first time.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. I know the king. Whether the king is in the garden or here or there, the king hears, knows, and is everywhere.”

  Despite Cherios’s assurances, Lowly persisted in his fears. “The pigs wouldn’t listen to me. If they had, I’d be-been feeding with them when the demons entered them.” And he kept on repeating, all the way home, “I believe you’re the king,” but he still wasn’t sure the king heard him.

  “Help me with my unbelief,” Lowly whispered.

  Much-Afraid had taken off on a romp and now returned with a “present.”