by S J Amit
“Wow!” I screamed, “Wow!”
“Would you believe it?” he laughed and came near me.
“Wow,” I looked around and we hugged on the top of the gigantic mountain.
He helped me out of the rope. “Within all the clouds that are currently multiplying around us, the peaks of the Mountains of Freedom continue.” He put his hand on my shoulder-blade and turned on the spot with me, “You’ll have to cross over to go beyond the mountains.” He stopped and pointed towards a direction that was clearer. “Once you cross the chasm, you’ll reach a giant field with a pinecone grove in its center. Pass the grove and get to the other side of the field, from there you’ll continue to the lone house that you’ll see at the edge of the field.”
“Is that the pinecone apothecary’s house?”
“That’s where he’s been waiting for you since the call of the messenger. Answer all of his questions, and your answers will lead to the pinecone from which he’ll prepare your remedy.” He put the backpack on my back, tightened its straps and gestured me to go on ahead.
“How do we cross from here?” I took a few steps forward and looked at the dark chasm in front of us, it stretched to the left and the right.
“From here you continue on your own.”
“On my own?” I turned my head towards him.
“From the moment you’ve reached the mountain’s peak, you no longer need your Challenge Bearer. You know within yourself how to cross the chasm to go beyond the Mountains of Freedom, you only need to remember. If you listen to your free spirit you’ll be able to see all of the details of the Land of the Mosaic altering for you, shifting positions and changing shapes for you with each step you take forward.” He looked at the clouds that were moving closer to us. “Julian, a human being who aspires to completely heal the pain away from their life, must take at least one risky chance on their own. It’s not enough to stand on the Mountains of Freedom and scream with momentary joy.” He stepped back. “You’re capable of crossing the chasm that separates you from the pinecone apothecary. You’re already a part of this place. Trust the Land of the Mosaic’s ground to accept you and make way for you,” he pointed at the horizon in front of me. “Remember that which you’ve always known, there is no component of the Land of the Mosaic which appears more than once in the same manner of appearing, and a sensitive man such as yourself never sees the same thing twice.”
I looked down and my head spun a bit. “Just a minute, Kelemance,” I looked back. “Kelemance?” I looked to the sides. I rushed to the spot where he had stood. Nothing. Nothing but more and more clouds multiplying around. I ran to the spot we had climbed up from. He wasn’t there. The cliff looked deserted and fog came up from below, covering the rocks. “Kelemance! Kelemance!” I called in all directions and stopped where we had stood together just a moment before. “Answer me already! This isn’t funny!” The clouds obscured the peaks and the faraway mountain ridges, and the fog thickened around me. I couldn’t see the rod and the rope either. Only one direction remained clear. Towards the chasms. I sat on the ground and my breaths increased rapidly. I felt a slight pang in my chest. “Ke-le-ma-nce!” I screamed at the top of my voice.
The scream echoed through the distance.
The pain attacked me. Sharp. Like a knife in the chest. The head too. The forehead. Everything was spinning. The wind was cold. Penetrated through my pants and my shirt. I was cold.
I pulled the hood over my head and sat on the ground, bent down to the side like a fetus and covered my face. I pressed against my heart, held my head, my stomach. I had no air. I slowly inhaled through my nose and exhaled out of my mouth, thinking to myself, where to from here? Everything is lost! Why did I leave the pharmacy? What was I thinking climbing up here? Where am I even? Why didn’t I listen to the people who had told me not to go up! What did I need to climb up here for, and then to even look around! And look down! I closed my eyes and thought - Choopster’s parents had told me that maybe I’d crossed the lands without knowing, and Kelemance said that I could go back! I want to go back! What was so bad for me before? So I was in a bit of pain, so what? I opened my eyes and kept breathing in and out heavily. I had no air. Something was walking there! No. Nothing was there. Something was walking on my leg. My body itched. Where was the rope? I crawled on all fours towards the direction we had come from. I had to get down from there. I thought that was the direction.
The wind was blowing strongly. Whistling from all directions. The fog concealed the edge of the cliff. Just as long as I didn’t fall. A bit more. The little stones hurt my knees. The edge of the cliff didn’t appear. Where was I going. I wasn’t in the right direction. Had to breathe. The fog only got thicker and more despairing. The thoughts about home attacked me, a wave of sadness washed over me and sliced me from within, and with it the torturous feeling of suffering and intense torment in every bit of my body. Alex, Tom, where are you?
“What freedom’s in th-ese moun-tains!” I screamed with all my might and sat on my knees, I felt like I was choking and about to vomit. “What was so bad for me that I had to leave everything and come here?! What was so bad for me down there that I had to climb up here?”
I squatted with my bottom on my heels. I tried to breathe deep. I didn’t want to cry but I couldn’t stop myself. I wept into my hands without any self-control. I couldn’t stop. Drool, snot, tears. I cried hard, loudly, and the tears gushed out. The pain in my chest weakened a bit. I wiped my face with the shirt and snivelled. My hands were drenched in tears. I put my hand on the ground to stand up and it sunk into the earth. I quickly raised it, placed it further away and it sunk in again. I looked to the left, supported myself with my other hand on the ground and it sunk in as well. I sat upright cross-legged, shook out my hands from the sand that stuck to them and rubbed them against each other. The fog around me dispersed along with the grains of sand that were flying through the air. I managed to see a bit of the ground that was in front of me. It looked solid. I carefully placed my right hand down again. Steady. The left hand too. The ground was hard. The fog returned, covering the area above my hands. I looked up. Could barely see anything. My nose was runny, I wiped it with my sleeve, wiped my hands on my pants and blotted the rest of the tears from my face. I leaned on the ground to stand up and my hands sunk in again. I quickly straightened up and looked at what I managed to see near my legs. Nothing seemed different. I shook my hands against each other and the fog in front of me dispersed. I slowly moved my hands from side to side and the visibility around me became clearer. I looked back. A slight pang in my chest startled me. I turned my head back, leaned it down and closed my eyes. I put my hands on my chest and just waited for the pain to come. A few moments more, another moment, a bit more, I prepared myself for the suffering but the pain never came. I slowly opened my eyes, the fog thickened, reassembled and came closer to me. I took my hands off my chest, and the fog halted.
I collected a few stones to throw forward and understand if what’s ahead of me is the ground or the chasm. I threw, and instead of stones, sand blew out of my hand and the fog dispersed. I picked up a few more stones, closed my hand and opened it. Sand. I threw it in front of me, and the ground cracked, rose, lowered and reconnected into a smoother surface. I picked up more stones with both my hands and scattered the sand over me, the fog that was above me disappeared and the high-up clouds separated from one another and dispersed to the sides. A flock of birds appeared and lowered its flight above me, they passed over my head, turned, glided ahead of me and hovered in one spot. I stood up and the birds flew ahead a bit more. I stepped forward, and the horizon appeared more and more with each step. I slowly continued advancing until I stopped in front of the chasm that appeared at my feet. The birds flew away, disappearing within the distant clouds.
I looked down. My heart raced. I lifted my head and the clouds assembled above me again. I moved my hands in the air but nothing happened. Shivers went throug
h my body. I could hear my breaths. My heart. I closed my eyes. “Come on, disperse again!” I scrunched up my face and clenched my teeth. Opened my eyes. Nothing. “Listen to your free spirit! It needs no words!” For a moment I wanted to search again for the cliff we had come from, and again felt that tickling sensation in the chest that would arrive before the pang. “Listen to your free spirit! It needs no words!” I looked at the ground. A little turquoise flower. Was it there before? Wasn’t it? I leaned down and touched it. Stood back up, and the clouds shifted to the sides. I looked at the flower again, it was right under me, right between my legs. I lifted my head up, a blue sliver of sky peeked through the clouds and a flock of birds appeared in it. The flower disappeared. I bent down and noticed turquoise near the heel of my shoe. I lifted my leg in order not to step on it, and the ground rose from under my shoe. I put my foot down forward, and the ground lowered and moved with it. I lifted the other foot too, and green weeds appeared under it. I felt that I knew where to place it, and the green weeds moved with it, continuing to surround it.
The chasm seemed less dark. The tops of the mountain ridges to my right looked like they were terraced. The clouds became thin white strips in the sky. For the first time, I managed to see beyond the chasm. Far away to my left I could see the cliff we had come from and I looked for the rope, stepped backwards and felt a slight tickling in my chest again. I paused and the sky became covered, I sighed and looked the clouds’ movement, but I felt more composed, I didn’t have the desire to rush back to the place we had come from. I smiled slightly, and the clouds halted. “Only when you stand on the top of the mountain, will you be able to see the possibilities that are beyond the Mountains of Freedom.” I looked at the horizon ahead of me. The fear didn’t disappear, but it didn’t stop me either. I walked towards the chasm, and the anxieties at the edges of the chasm dissolved with every step forward. “The Land of the Mosaic is accepting me,” I mumbled as I looked at the clouds dispersing and disappearing, “because I chose to continue from here to the pinecone apothecary.” I stepped forward and the cliff shattered and closed before me. I kept walking without stopping. I felt the ground beneath me. Recognized the movement of the mountains and the shifting of the stones. Listened to the wings of the birds. Smelled the location of the flowers. Witnessed the renewal of the water from afar. Saw all of the details of the Land of the Mosaic altering for me, shifting positions and changing shapes for me with each step I took forward.
The mountains trembled and moved the ground beneath me. Weeds climbed up and supported my legs. “My free spirit.” I listened to it harmonizing with the Land of the Mosaic’s ground as it cracked, separating and reconnecting. The rocks crumbled. The sand dispersed, piled up and reassembled. Another step and another one and the surrounding mountains were already much taller than me. Colorful butterflies joined the scenery. The air was cleaner. The sky was clear. The treetops below grew taller, sending branches up to the soles of my feet. I descended the branchy stairs over their green-leaved carpet and onto untamed earth, and crossed a row of cypress trees towards a vast space which was wide and open, and full of dry wild oats. Far away in the depths of the field there was a grove of scattered colorful trees.
I knew that was where I needed to go. The pinecone grove ahead of me.
The Pinecone Apothecary
The massive field stretched far into the distance on both sides, blurring with the skyline to my left and to my right. I crossed its width, walking towards the hundreds of trees that became more visible the further I advanced.
I neared the grove. The trees were different from one another. Not as close to each other as they had seemed from afar. Among the array of green shades composing the branches, multicolored pinecones stuck out, coloring each tree differently. On the areas between the trees there laid colorful pinecones in all sorts of sizes. Brown, yellow, pink, orange, red, gray, big, small, long, round. On the ground near each tree there were clusters that fell down from that same tree. Giant sequoia, short pine, wide cedar. Another small round tree, maybe a big bush.
I stood in the grove. Countless trees around me, countless pinecones. I had never seen so many pinecones. Each tree on its own. Some more spectacular, some less. The far one on the left was impressively tall, the one to my right was uniquely small and round, the trunk of the one behind it was exceptionally wide. Most of the trees were ones I’d never seen before, probably species that usually grow in a lot of different places, but they were all there. Through the trees, beyond the grove, I could see the field continuing, but there was no house in the distance. Despite not knowing what “my pinecone” meant, the endless amount of possibilities calmed me down, and I continued walking through the trees towards the other side of the field.
The pinecones on the branches of each tree looked the same. A few smaller ones with yellow tips. Every few steps a different pinecone caught my eyes, until the next pinecone. The pinecones I’d never seen before were really special. But the ones I knew also looked special after focusing on them for a few moments.
I came out of the grove onto the other side of the field. The sky was clear but darker, night was about to fall. The field rose and arched up a bit. The wind lifted the dry leaves and dispersed them. A rooftop of a house slowly appeared in the distance, and the field became more level. I advanced towards the lone house that stood right at the edge of the field. I hoped that was his house. How was I actually supposed to recognize him? Was he even a person? I knew nothing about him except for Kelemance’s stories. What was I supposed to tell him? I thought I’d just introduce myself and that’s it. I tried to let go and leave the thoughts alone the closer I got to the house.
A man came out of it and towards me. “Hello, Julian.” He stopped in front of me and smiled.
“Hello.” Alright, he was a person, and he spoke a language I understood. “Of course you know who I am, huh.”
“I know your name. It doesn’t matter who you are. If you’ve reached me, you’re no longer who you once were.”
His hair wasn’t combed, his face was round, a bit shorter than me. “Are you the pinecone apothecary?”
“Do I not look the way you expected me to?” He held a little box in his hand.
“You look ordinary,” I smiled a little embarrassedly, “different than what I’d thought. I mean, I didn’t know exactly how--“
“No person is ordinary,” he shook my hand, “an ordinary person is a phrase that people from faraway places use.” He started walking to the direction I had come from and indicated for me to turn around and follow him. “You already know that in the Land of the Mosaic there are no strangers.” He slowed down. “If you hadn’t assumed in advance about how I’d look, I wouldn’t have seemed different to you,” he looked at me and smiled again. “Why did you come here?” he waited for me to get closer to him.
“So that you’d prepare a remedy that would make my pain go away.” We walked side by side towards the grove.
“This pain, did you always have it? Have you always felt it in the land from which you came?”
“No, it only happened to me recently.”
“Could it be that you don’t remember well?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll ask you again when we reach the grove, and then you’ll give me your pinecone, from which I’ll prepare your remedy.”
We continued walking. I’ll give it to him? The number of pinecones that were in the grove worried me. “Listen, there are so many there, how will I know which one to choose?”
“You’ll know. Beyond the Mountains of Freedom, everything is clearer. Keep listening to your free spirit. After you’ve already sailed the river, climbed the mountains and crossed the chasms, all you have left is to recognize your pinecone.”
He didn’t talk a lot. We neared the grove and stopped in front of the trees. He observed them quietly, surveyed them with his eyes, occasionally bent down and stood back up. Ste
pped back a bit, then forward. A bit to the right, then left, until he stood still.
“Every person has a single unique pinecone in the Land of the Mosaic, which contains that person’s eternity of existence. Among the seeds of potential within it, lies man’s inner truth of himself.” He went quiet for a moment, then continued. “You too have a single and unique pinecone in this grove, Julian.” He gestured for me to get closer and stand next to him. “The visibility is better from here. Observe and see the grove’s details, until you notice a single pinecone among all the rest.”
Some of the pinecones were more noticeable, some were colorful, but nothing was different from what I had seen there before. “Maybe I should walk around the trees slowly?” I put the backpack on the ground.
“How did you get to the Land of the Mosaic?” he continued looking at the grove.
“Actually, I don’t know,” I tried to focus on the branches. “The pain exhausted me and I woke up in Kelemance’s house.”
“How did everything begin? Tell me about your life in the faraway land from which you came, what do you remember from there?”
“How did what begin? The pain or my life?” I shifted my focus to the pinecones that were on the ground.
“And if I tell you it doesn’t matter?”
“I don’t understand,” I stopped scanning through the grove for a moment and looked at him.
“When did you arrive to the Land of the Mosaic?”
“About three days ago.”
“And if I tell you that you’ve always been here, and have occasionally returned to the faraway land?”
“What, what are you talking about? I have a wife, a son, a family, a job, friends.”
“Don’t you remember the countless times when you had tried to find your place there and didn’t succeed? The moments when you tried to learn their language, get to know the people, internalize the stares, but didn’t understand anything? When you walked around among them the entire time, asking where it was they were all going?”
