The Emerald Tablet: Omnibus Edition

by JM HART

  Tim looked at Kevin. “She wants to guess. This should be interesting.”

  “I know, don’t tell me. This is so abstruse.”

  “It’s what?” Kevin said, taking his eyes off the wolf and looking at Jade.

  “You know,” Tim said, lifting his shoulders to his ears. “Abstruse.”

  “Who are you kidding? You’ve got no idea what that means.”

  “Guys, are you in a relationship or what? It means puzzling, heavy, incomprehensible. Capeesh? Now let me think.” She held up her finger to hush them. “We have completed a quantum jump into a parallel world. This is colossal.” Jade spun around looking back at the wolf. “It can’t touch us, it can’t see us, and it looks like it can’t hear or smell us any more. How long have you guys been able to do this? Is this some sort of experiment?” Jade was full of excitement and wonder at the expanding possibilities, her mind racing. Suddenly the joy in her face turned solemn. “Are we dead?”

  “Why do you think you’re dead?” Kevin asked.

  “I thought we were dead too,” Tim interjected.

  “I saw Great Turtle — my great-grandmother was known as Great Turtle. She’s dead. She is in the spirit world.”

  “We’re not dead,” Kevin said.

  “Then we are in a quantum time and space, a parallel universe, perhaps.” Jade lit up like a Christmas tree. “I feel like the menorah on the eighth day of Hanukkah. This,” she said, twirling around with her arms open, “my mother would have a field day with. Look at these plants. They appear to be soulful and alive.” Gently, she brought her hand up under a soft leaf that was twice her hand size and touched it.

  “That’s one way to express it,” Kevin said.

  “How did you find this place?” she asked, letting the leaf down slowly. How did you open the passageway? I have so many questions.”

  “I think, first — first we should get home.” Nervous, Kevin cleared his throat. “I think my mom might be able to help. She can come across as a real cranky person, but I feel we need her.”

  “Will she drive me home?” Jade asked.

  “Sure,” Kevin said.

  “Okay, let’s go see the dragon lady.” Jade walked slowly, tilting her head back, gazing high up into the giant trees. “This is marvelous, absolutely marvelous,” she said. “How many places have you been to?”

  “Wait till you see the crystal cave.”

  “I’m lost as it is,” Kevin said. “But to answer your question, this is the second time. Well, third, including now.”

  Kevin dropped behind and listened to Tim and Jade talking. She seemed intrigued and confused all at once by what they were saying.

  Kevin allowed his thoughts to drift back to the day the boy drowned, wondering if he had opened a doorway then, and hadn’t realized it. He remembered the details clearly: riding his bike around the block testing the brakes, he had gone off-road down the track to the river. I stopped to adjust the front end by placing the wheel between my legs and aligning the handlebars. When I found a cherry protein bar in my pocket, I ate it. What next, what next? I leant my bike on a tree near the river and took a leak. He had looked into the river and watched the ripples on the surface floating in to the shore. Hypnotized by the rhythm he had taken off his shirt, and shallow-dived into the tiny waves, swimming underwater and holding his breath as long as he possibly could. He had surfaced and that’s when he saw the boy upstream on a wooden bridge as it collapsed. Kevin had seen the boy clawing at the wood as it plummeted into the raging water. He could see the torrents as if they had been rushing his way but they never arrived. He had dived under, searching for the boy, thinking, Nothing makes sense; there was no bridge.

  Breathless, he had surfaced into calm waters and the small sandy inlet before him. His bike had been leaning against the tree were he had left it. Quickly picking up his things, he had expected the water to still rise up behind him and over the sand and flood way beyond the trees. He had taken off on his bike, and waited. Nothing had happened, he had waited a little longer, but still nothing had happened. Balancing the bike between his legs, he had put his shirt on, then ridden off back to the river. Standing on the pedals he had craned his neck trying to see as much as possible before he actually got there.

  Nothing … the river had been sleepy, gently lapping against the sandy shore.

  He had listened for the roar of the torrents of water, but there was no sound, except for some cicadas chirruping. He had propped his bike against the same tree and walked to the water’s edge; nothing. He had jumped back onto his bike and coasted up along the river to where he thought he had seen the boy. There had been no bridge, no raging rapids, and no boy. He wasn’t sure what he had actually seen, but the boy was real and his fear was real. Kevin had felt him gasping for air, his lungs being crushed.

  What the hell! Kevin had thought, speeding home. His parents had called the police and they had found nothing and said he was crying wolf. Maybe when I dove under the water, I arrived in a different time and place. Abruptly, Kevin remembered there was someone else watching the boy drown, a pale girl with blonde hair watching from the other side.

  Kevin didn’t realize Tim and Jade had stopped walking. He would like to experiment with opening and closing the doorway like Jade has suggested. But how to start?

  “He does this often. Earth to Kevin, Earth to Kevin.” Tim stopped in front of Kevin, so that his friend crashed right into him.

  “Sorry, man, you said something?”

  “No, but I think you did, K,” Tim said tapping the side of his head.

  Kevin’s face went red; he let his hair flop over his left eye. “Oh, shit, how embarrassing.”

  “We can still hear you,” Jade said. “This is —” Quickly she tried to think of a word to dumb it down for them. It was hard to think of something simple.

  “No way! You didn’t just say ‘dumb it down’?” Kevin looked askance.

  “You can hear me?” Jade was shocked and even more excited than before. “This is phenomenal!”

  Eyebrows raised, together the boys said, “Yep.”

  “This just keeps getting better and better.” She reached behind and pulled her shorts out of her butt. “Give me a pair of cargoes any day,” she said red-faced.

  Kevin couldn’t help watching as she tied her hair back, and wiped her face on her shirt. She is simply beautiful.

  “Okay, stop there. We need some protocol here, guys. Like mind your thoughts.”

  Jade wasn’t sure about these two, but they seemed harmless enough. Tim’s sort of funny. Kevin has a crop of hair he’s forever pushing out of his eyes or flipping to the side. If it bothers him that much, why doesn’t he get a haircut? He’s mysteriously amazing. Not too talkative, but he thinks a lot. He looks down at the ground most of the time as if lost in his own emotions. But he looks strong, muscular, athletic, and has a warm smile. “You know who you look like?” she said to Kevin. “River Phoenix.”

  “Seriously, who’s checking out whom now?” Kevin said. “We heard all your thoughts just then.”

  “Who’s he?” Tim asked.

  “An actor from long ago who allegedly died of a drug overdose.”

  “Great! So Kevin looks like an actor who is on drugs.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. My mom and I watched a movie he was in, and she said he was a promising actor, very handsome in a rugged way. She had a crush on him when she was young.”

  “Nice save — I think,” Tim said.

  “When you said my name back there,” she said to Kevin, “you said it as if you knew me.”

  “I had a vision of a deer and heard your name.”

  “A vision of a deer, and you heard my name. You’re messing with me, right? This isn’t real. I’m dreaming, aren’t I? Great Turtle would have loved you. You had a vision.” Jade laughed merrily.

  “It’s true. The deer led us to you,” Kevin said.

  “What happened to the boy who drowned? Did they ever find him?”

>   “No, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Then you’d better not think about it,” she said.

  The trio reached the cave and walked through it. Jade was entranced by the flickering crystals embedded in the walls. “I would love to take some samples but it feels inappropriate, the whole place seems to be breathing.”

  Together they emerged from behind the waterfall. Jade was in love with everything she saw. “A pink waterfall.” She put her hand out and chuckled before putting her lips to the tiny pool in her palm. It tasted so sweet and clean, she just didn’t know how to describe it. The water glided down the back of her throat and into the pit of her empty stomach; it felt like there were microscopic love butterflies gently calming and caressing her internals. “I feel so relaxed,” she said. “This is so wonderful. It looks like a colorful painting done with cream, icing sugar, coconut and jelly. I just want to eat it all.”

  Tim turned to look back at her. “First, you want to take samples, and then you think it’s like a painting, and now you want to eat everything.”

  “Come on, we have to move,” Kevin said, “time is ticking on. We need to find where we started from. It can’t be far now.”

  “Hello!” Tim said. “There’s the wall and our bikes.” He pointed into the distance. The trees and leaves parted, creating a path for them. “Why couldn’t you have created that an hour ago?”

  “Stop saying that. I didn’t create anything.”

  Wow, I don’t want to leave. I want to stay, Jade thought.

  “That’s how I feel, too,” Kevin said.

  The Emerald Tablet: Immersion

  1

  Metatron: Casey. England.

  Casey sat on a fallen branch, scanning the silver birch trees. They hid him and the house from the road. He rubbed his palms on his denim jeans and cleared his mind, trying to connect to Sophia, when from between the trees a sandy-colored Labrador stepped into view. “Here girl.” The dog ran straight to him and licked him on the face. Casey shuffled the leaves at his feet for a stick. He picked one up, placed it across his knee and snapped it in two. He threw the longest piece of the stick into the air and obediently the dog fetched. Casey threw it again and again the dog retrieved it. “No more, girl. I need to think.” The dog kept pushing the stick with her nose. “No, I need to focus on my friend Sophia. Go home.” The dog picked up the stick and again dropped it at Casey’s feet. He eyed the dog, and then the stick. He began to visualize it lifting off the ground — and it lifted. Not very high, but it hovered. He flicked his head to the side, making his curls bounce, and the stick went sailing up into the air. Like a rubber band it retracted, smacking him in the face. “Shit!” He dabbed under his eye. He tried again. He connected with the stick and imagined it soaring through the air, then flicked his head up and to the side. The stick flew into the bushes. The Labrador bounded after it. Casey’s head hurt; he rubbed his temples, the pain was minimal, but an electric sensation above his eyes travelled down his face and his lips became itchy.

  Out of the woods came the dog, drooling with the stick in its mouth.

  “Yuk, I’m not touching that.”

  “Casey, you want to come and help me?”

  Casey looked over his shoulder. Terry was hanging out the back door. He turned to the dog and with a slight movement of his eyes and a tilt of his head, he lifted the stick and tossed it into the air. “Fetch,” he said. The stray Labrador mirrored Casey and tilted his head. Casey glanced over his shoulder at Terry. “Sure, Terry, give me a sec,” he yelled back. He picked up the stick with his hand this time, and tossed it towards the hedges and the dog started to lumber after it. The ground vibrated. The Labrador stood still and began to howl.

  “What is it, girl?” Through the narrow parting in the trees, a series of army trucks shot past in a blur of camouflage-green. “It’s starting, girl. It’s the virus. Hell’s circus has come to town. Come on, girl, you look like you could use some water.” Casey headed over to Terry at the house.

  “Who’s your friend?” Terry asked.

  “She came out of the trees.” Casey turned on the tap and the dog lapped it up. He jerked his head to the road. “Where do you think they’re heading?”

  “Town, probably.”

  Terry rested his hand on Casey’s shoulder. “Come on. Come give me a hand downstairs. Maybe give her something to eat first. She’s looking a little thin. Give her a couple of powdered eggs and the sausages left from last night.”

  “Wait here, girl,” Casey said.

  The dog sat, its tail dusting the ground.

  The kitchen was freshly painted. It was looking new except for the moldy section that grew up the side of the wall.

  “Where’s Amy?” Casey continued to mix the egg powder and water in a bowl.

  “In the cellar.”

  “What are you guys doing down there, anyway? And isn’t it called a basement?”

  “Sorting through her great-aunt’s old treasures. Some of the things are actually amazing. I have a hunch that the dampness in the kitchen wall began down there.”

  Casey took the bowl out to the dog. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  At the sight of the bowl the dog stood, a whimper escaped its mouth and saliva hung from the corner. It tapped its paw, wanting to step forward, then barked. Casey put the bowl on the grass and the dog buried her head in it. “That will keep you going for a while.”

  “Terry! Do you want me to bring the toolbox?” he yelled.

  “Why are you shouting?”

  “Ha ha. I thought you had already gone downstairs.”

  The stairs creaked as Terry descended ahead of Casey and the light bulb swung overhead. Amy was sitting on one of the many trunks, absorbed in unpacking another. Terry looked as though his heart fluttered when he looked at Amy. Casey knew she was his touchstone in life: they would fall apart without each other.

  The air was thick and moist in the cellar. “You shouldn’t be down here in your condition,” Terry said.

  “Ah!” Amy jumped off the trunk, arm up ready for attack. “Don’t creep up on me! You guys here to do some real work or just scare the hell out of me?”

  “Okay, no need for sarcasm, madam. What’s with the kung fu moves?” Terry said, chopping the dust with his hands.

  “He’s right, Amy. Mold would be thriving in this atmosphere and it’s not good for your lungs.”

  “It’s not good for any of our lungs,” Terry said. “Why don’t you pick which trunk you want to go through next and we will lug it upstairs to the sunroom for you?”

  “Well, I don’t know. It’s a lot of work for you.”

  “We’ll have to cart the stuff upstairs that you want to throw out or sell. You might as well sort it out up there,” Terry said.

  “Who are we going to sell it to? There’s hardly anyone around,” Casey said.

  “Don’t be so negative, okay. I’m finishing this one now. It’s full of beautiful old clothes. Turn-of-the-century stuff. You can take those old trunks against the far wall, behind the stairs, over there.” She pointed. “Those ones are also ready to go.”

  Casey moved over to the trunks. Examining them, he could feel the energy of the past saturating the wood.

  Casey sat next to Amy on the leather chest that smelt like a worn saddle.

  “The room was filled with priceless memories,” she said. “Think of the people who must have worn these clothes years and years ago. The dinner parties, balls, formal courting. How romantic it must have been.”

  Casey saw her aura expanding, as she imagined her family’s past.

  “Did you see the cot, Terry? It’s to die for. It’s so old — and that desk chair, look how worn that seat is.”

  “Yep, a lot of backsides have been in that chair. Maybe your great-uncle, with a pipe in one hand and a whiskey in the other, spinning the odd yarn to guests,” Terry said.

  “You’re mocking me? You know, all of this stuff should really go upstairs. The air down here will
damage it eventually. I’m surprised it’s not already covered in mold. God knows how it has survived.”

  Three trunks were stacked up high against the wall. “We are going to need a ladder. I’ll get it,” Casey said, mounting the stairs two at time.

  The back door slammed and the dog stood at attention, wagging its tail. “You still here? Don’t you have a home? Isn’t there someone missing you, girl?” Casey asked. “Come on, then.”

  They both stopped a few steps from the barn and the dog growled. “What’s the matter, girl. Afraid of a few rats?”

  The decaying wooden door hung unevenly with one corner wedged into the grass. “It will need to be fixed, girl, but not right now.” Casey gave it a couple of good yanks and it opened. Instantly, he saw the ladder hiked up on the side wall. He reached up to unhook it, but lost his grip, the ladder crashed to the floor, landing a hair’s breadth away from the dog. “Sorry girl, I — what the hell!” A black mist of tiny insects, like a thousand fruit flies, swarmed down from the rafters and encircled him. He coughed and choked. They went up his nostrils and down the back of his throat. Pain exploded in Casey’s head. He grabbed his hair and doubled over gagging, vomiting up his lunch. His body was on fire, his head hammering. Tiny claws dug into the sinus cavities up his nose, the fastest route to the brain. His ears and nose bled. “Oh, God!” He released an agonized scream as his eyes turned black like swirling pools of oil. His mouth stretched wide, his jaw unhinged, and the black vileness travelled to his brain.

  Casey fought for control. The barn came alive with projectiles and the dog ran.

  An explosion of intense blinding light filled the barn and everything stopped in mid-air and collapsed to the ground. A figure, which stood three times the size of a man, emerged from the center of the light. It had three sets of wings unfolding behind him: from his shoulder blades, from the middle of his spine, and a set from just below his waist. They sparkled with trails of misty light. The lower right wing gracefully extended and swooped down, catching Casey and rolling him up, squeezing him tight, pressing out his last breath until all the devil’s vermin was expelled from his body, freeing Casey from the virus. The heavenly being held him tight until the demons were crushed and vaporized.