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    William King
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Rompecabezas. - 5. Chapter 5 - El Jardin Perfumado (The Scented Garden).

[Second Edition]

I woke to the sound of bird song, which was odd, although it didn’t register as being odd immediately. I suppose that was because I still felt tired and ached all over from the journey. I just wasn’t sure I was awake. When I heard the sound of water cascading, I was sure I was dreaming.

Sitting up, I threw off the dirty old blanket, looking around and wiping the sleep from my eyes. Wonderful greenery surrounded me, I was bathed in the sweet scents of flowering shrubs. Their different odours mixing together like some expert perfume maker was concocting his greatest work.

As I stood up I saw the water cascading, falling off a flat moss covered rock into a pool that was irresistibly inviting. I didn’t care if it was a dream, I couldn’t think about things anymore. Removing my clothes and shoes, I walked naked, barefoot, towards the pool. The water was cool as it lapped around my feet. The shallow shelf at the edge belied the deepness a step further in. I fell into the pool. Swimming to keep my head above water.

I ducked under, swam a few strokes towards the cascade, then pushed back off a rock. Lying on my back I stared up at the blue sky. I noticed a white wall surrounding the pool and a round tower that seemed to disappear upwards to meet the sky.

After travelling all day across a barren sun baked wasteland this was paradise. Finally, tired of splashing in the pool I made my way back to the edge and pulled myself out. When I was out of the water, I raised my head to get up, and was confronted by someone standing over me. Confronted is perhaps not quite the right word, I was shocked, startled. I almost fell backwards into the water, but two arms reached out and held me, pulling me back and stopping my fall.

It would seem impossible, but there standing in front of me, holding me by both arms was Jabez. I embraced him, hugged him and pulled him close to me, I kissed his lips and a tiny tear fell from the corner of my eye. I was about to speak, I had a hundred questions for him to answer, but he looked straight into my eyes and touched his finger to my lips.

He whispered, his warm breath on my ear. “We must go.”

He led me by the hand towards a gate, an opening in the wall I had glimpsed from the pool. I bent down to pick up my clothes, but he indicated to leave them. At that moment I noticed he was dressed exactly the same as the last time I had met him in the Palacio de los Sueños. We hurried through the gate, turned right and entered a white walled corridor through an archway. Jabez had let go of my hand, but he looked back over his shoulder to be certain I was keeping up.

The corridor was narrow and completely closed, but small holes in the ceiling let through enough sunlight to lighten the passage. We moved along over these little spots of light that made circles on the floor. Finally stopping, facing what looked like a strong oak door with diamond shaped metal studs encrusted into it. Jabez reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew a large silver key. He quickly inserted the key into the lock, turned it and pushed open the door. This revealed a spiral stone staircase no wider than the corridor.

This must be the tower I had seen, I wasn’t sure, but somehow I thought it must be. Jabez moved ahead of me quickly climbing the stairs. There was only room for one person, I followed behind. Round and round, the climbing was tiring and I was starting to feel dizzy.

“Come on,” he stopped briefly, turning back to face me. “There is no time to lose.”

‘No time to lose.’ The words rang in my head, ‘No time to lose.’

We reached a small platform and I followed Jabez out through an opening onto a parapet. Looking down, I had to reach out and grip the stone wall, the height and the climb left me light headed.

“There!” Jabez pointed to a courtyard way below where I could just make out some figures, the tiny shadows of people moving. “We have to get there now.” I heard the urgency in his voice.

Back down the staircase. Not too far below, we slipped through an opening I hadn’t noticed on the way up. Completely out of breath now, I bent over gasping. We had reached a view point slightly above the courtyard. Even Jabez was breathing heavily.

“What’s happening?” The question hung in the air, he gave no reply.

I looked at the scene below, it seemed familiar. The figures I had seen as little shadows from the tower, I could now see were the boys from the Palacio de los Sueños. There was a man standing next to a sort of bench and two men in dark suits sitting in chairs opposite. I wasn’t sure, but I think these were the same two men who were being entertained the other night.

I studied the scene, and suddenly realised a boy was bent over the bench. There were three other boys standing in a row, like silent witnesses to something that was about to take place. I felt uneasy, a sick feeling in my stomach.

“What’s going on?” I demanded to know, and Jabez replied this time.

“The boy is being punished.”

“Why? Punished for what? How?”

He didn’t need to explain further, I saw the man next to the bench walk over to the three boys and he was brandishing a whip. ‘No, no!’ I screamed inside my head, this can’t happen.

In an instant I was out through the way we had come, and down the staircase. I came up against a thick wooden door and pushed it, but it didn’t move. I leaned my shoulder into the door and with all my weight I pushed again. It protested, but opened.

I ran out across the courtyard, blinded by the bright sunlight, I reached the boy who was tied to the bench as the man with the whip approached. There was no time to think, no time to do anything, just one thing was possible. I covered the boy with my body. Leaning over him. It was not difficult, he was much smaller than me. I felt his skin against mine, I felt his body trembling.

‘Crack!’ The whiplash broke the silence, cutting through the air like a knife and slashing a diagonal line across my back.

*****

I woke with the noise and commotion. People were running around in the still semi-darkness. It was not yet dawn. For some reason I couldn’t move, I was frozen in the back of the truck. Lightning lit the sky with electric streaks, the sound of thunder crashed through the otherwise still air. I realised why I couldn’t move. The branch of one of the only trees for miles around had broken and was laying halfway across the truck trapping me under the tarpaulin.

I could smell the burnt wood from where the lightning must have hit. Another bolt of thunder startled me with the light and noise. It was then I glimpsed the driver scrambling into the cab. The motor roared into life, the headlights shot two bright rays of light into the distance. The truck jolted forward with the sound of wood against metal. I stayed as low as possible on the floor of the truck and listened as the branch slid off, freeing the truck and me, but taking the old tarpaulin with it.

In the early morning light, just as the sun was about to peek over the horizon, it was obvious that no real damage had been done. That is to say, the truck had a few more knocks and scratches, nothing much new there.

The storm had disappeared as quickly as it had come. Absolam asked me how I was and I guess I was fine. There was a large scratch on my forehead which I looked at in the broken mirror of the truck, nothing serious. My body ached, but that was probably from travelling all day in the back of the truck. Worse was the pain I had across my back and I couldn’t see what it was.

I asked Absolam to take a look and he lifted my shirt. “You have a large red stripe across your back. It looks like a whiplash from a branch, but the skin is not cut.”

It hurt like hell, but I would just have to bear it for the rest of the day, there was nothing else to do. The driver had cut half the tarpaulin free from the branch, so at least I would still have shade in the back of the truck.

The day dragged on, the sun scorched arid ground gave up only a cloud of dust which swirled in spirals behind the truck, obscuring the desert in hazy mist that disguised everything, nothing was clear.

Nothing was clear in the landscape, just exactly as nothing was clear in my head. I could not stop thinking about Jabez. All my hopes were somehow fixed on the idea that everything would be resolved when we reached Chiapas. In reality this was crazy, thinking that reaching a destination would magically bring things right. I knew deep down inside me that this was not true, but I had to fix my mind onto a tangible point, or I risked getting lost and losing myself completely.

I just couldn’t remember anything before the journey started. I didn’t know how, or even why I was travelling, I had only very few points of reference. I needed to get to Chiapas and I needed to find El Cuervo de Plata. The other things I knew were like the desert that stretched out in all directions. It’s there before you, it’s evident and dominating, you don’t ask yourself what it is, because you know.

 

---

Copyright © 2018 William King; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

On 10/27/2016 02:26 PM, Mikiesboy said:

Where are you taking us?? Super!

I'm taking you on a journey... and it's difficult to see what lies ahead around the bends of a twisting road!

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At first I didn't get the pool and tower as being familiar points of the dreamscape until he was looking down on the scene again.

 

The punishment of the boy, and the man taking his stripe for him, is interesting.

 

And then at the end we learn that his journey is just as much a mystery to the man as to us.

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On 11/16/2016 11:06 AM, AC Benus said:

At first I didn't get the pool and tower as being familiar points of the dreamscape until he was looking down on the scene again.

 

The punishment of the boy, and the man taking his stripe for him, is interesting.

 

And then at the end we learn that his journey is just as much a mystery to the man as to us.

Not only is the journey a struggle, it's also painful, physically and emotionally.

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The world within the dream touches the world outside, no?. That a lesson of sorts is being learned seems obvious. But at what price?
I am enjoying rereading this. I don't want to give anything away, though!

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On 02/23/2017 10:34 AM, Geron Kees said:

The world within the dream touches the world outside, no?. That a lesson of sorts is being learned seems obvious. But at what price?

I am enjoying rereading this. I don't want to give anything away, though!

Not wanting to give anything away does make comments difficult and also my replies. Yes, the dream, the different reality touches the world outside, but it is all rather mixed up and confusing. What is that reality?

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