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Authors: Annie Wald

BOOK: Walk With Me
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Peter sighed. “I wish I knew.”

 
U
P TO
P
IGEON
H
OLE
P
ASS
 

A little farther up the path, they came upon a fork and a sign that pointed to the left and said, “Best view of the King’s City” in gold lettering with curlicue flourishes and a border of painted daisies. The path looked quite promising. The ground was smooth and had only a gentle incline. Celeste agreed with Peter that it would be good to take it. But they hadn’t gotten far when they came to another fork with another sign, not nearly as fancy as the first. This time the lettering was bigger and darker and proclaimed, “Right way, this way.” Since they wanted to stay on the right path, they also took the second fork.

 

The path became narrower, and the trees along the way grew shorter. Peter told Celeste that was a good sign; it showed they were gaining altitude A little while later, there was another sign, “Only way to the King’s City.” Though the sign was very plain with a white background and large black letters, they couldn’t argue with the message and they continued. The next sign looked
ominous. It said, “Death if you turn back” with a skull and cross bones underneath. Since Peter and Celeste knew that death awaited those who did not reach the King’s City, they didn’t hesitate to keep going up the path.

 

They followed along the path for some time. Celeste said it was odd that the trail to the best overlook was in such poor condition. Branches had fallen across the path from winter storms, and rocks had tumbled from above. They came to another sign, smaller than the others. In a heavy, foreboding script, it declared, “All travelers, this way.” The path now scaled a series of sharp ravines connected by narrow ledges.

 

“At least we’ll have a great view.” Peter began climbing yet another ravine.

 

Celeste gasped for breath. “You go on ahead.” She knew Peter was anxious to get to the top.

 

He pushed on until the path reached a high, slender gap where there should have been a spectacular vista toward the King’s City. But the view was blocked by a tall rock wall that had been built across the gap. The wall was covered with neatly carved alcoves that looked like pigeon holes. A thin walkway led from one alcove to another, and a long ladder at the end of each row provided a way to reach the next level. There were six levels, and it seemed to Peter the wall had been built little by little over a long period. The shorter, lower levels were more crudely built and seemed to be sinking under the weight of the upper levels.

 

“There isn’t any view of the King’s City from here,” Celeste said when she finally caught up with Peter. She felt disappointed that she had made the hard climb for nothing. “How are we going to go
any farther? Even if we made it to the top on those rickety ladders, we can’t be sure there is any way over and down the other side.”

 

“It looks like a nice place to stop for a bit,” Peter said. “Everything is so neat and tidy.” The paths were well-swept, and the brass doors to the alcove rooms gleamed with polish. Even the dirt on the ground looked like it had been bleached clean.

 

A pale man in an elaborately embroidered coat stood guard at the entrance. “Reverend Strict, at your service. Would you like a tour?” He had small piercing eyes and a long pointed chin, and his fingernails were so long, they curved like claws. For a moment Celeste thought he looked like a wolf.

 

“We’d love to,” Peter said. “I’m quite intrigued by your set-up. You keep it so clean.”

 

“We’re very proud of this place,” the guard said. He pushed out his chest, raised his nose into the air, and led them across the yard. “We plan to expand into other regions as well. Our vision is that one day every view of the King’s City in the entire land will be developed like this.”

 

“Very smart,” Peter said.

 

Celeste shivered. “But you’ve built the compound so the sun never shines directly.”

 

“We don’t think the sun is a good thing. It makes you hot, and when you’re hot, you’re thirsty, and when you get thirsty, you want to drink, and that leads to all kinds of temptations.”

 

“You mean with the chalice?” Celeste said.

 

Reverend Strict looked offended. “Young lady, we do not say filthy words here. I kindly ask you to respect our rules.” He lowered his voice. “Partners drink from the chalice only when absolutely
necessary.” He shook himself. “It’s not just that temptation, but all the other enticements of the world that create havoc in poor travelers. We’ve decided that since the flesh is too weak to resist temptation, it is best to give up the journey and stay here where you can be safe. That’s why our cells look so nice. It’s better not to walk than to be tempted to break one of the King’s rules.”

 

Celeste stopped following the guard. She suddenly realized the grass was brown, the bushes were brown, even the pine trees were brown. “Where’s the river of life?” She remembered what the King had promised her when she first started the journey.

 

“We believe it’s better if travelers don’t have access to a rushing stream. Who knows where it would take them? Instead we haul water from the other side of the wall. We have to ration it, but that is a good discipline for our associates.”

 

“Still, there should be a stream of living water.” Peter considered how dry it had been in Upright Village.

 

“Once travelers become acclimated to our way of life, they find they are able to do without water for long periods. They know if they are patient and follow the rules, one day the King might come to visit—just think how wonderful it would be to watch the King admire our compound.” Reverend Strict put his hand to his chest and looked away in rapturous contemplation. “I’m sorry. I get carried away whenever I think that. Now let me show you the rules.”

 

He led Peter and Celeste to the base of the high wall where all the rules from the guidebook had been carefully cut and plastered, as neat as everything else in the place. “A full set, you’ll find. Not one missing.”

 

“But this isn’t the complete guidebook.” Celeste glanced over the rules. “Where are the parts about joy and love and freedom? Where’s the part about the knife of grace?”

 

“If something has been left off, it’s for one of two reasons. Either the section isn’t necessary or it’s been misused by travelers. Most people, if you give them freedom, will do all sorts of awful things the King specifically forbids. So we make it easier for them by keeping them on a short leash, as it were.”

 

“They’re not dogs!” Celeste said.

 

“Well, some of them are beastly, not like our most exalted saints.” He pointed to a sign by the wall that said “The Top Saints,” with pictures of the most dour people.

 

Peter recognized several from Upright Village.

 

“Wait a minute.” Celeste was still at the wall reading the rules. “Not only are you missing some things from the guidebook, there are a lot of extra rules. Here’s a list of holidays to be celebrated, with rules on how to do it. And lists of foods you can eat, clothes you can wear and what kinds of clothes you can’t wear, what colors your Cords of Commitment have to be, how often you can look out your window at the King’s City, how many times a day you have to polish your door … This is ridiculous.”

 

“We have found over the years that the guidebook isn’t as specific in some areas as we think it should be. After careful deliberation, we came up with these additional rules. Everyone here has appreciated the extra guidance.”

 

Peter nodded. Many times he had read the guidebook and wished it was more specific.

 

But Celeste remembered something she had read in the guidebook:
“These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men.”

 

“I’d also like to show you our library,” Reverend Strict said. He led them to a place that had once been a gathering hut, but the walls had been dismantled and the wood used to make a bookcase. He took the largest book, which was titled, “Dues Paid.” “Look.” He opened the volume and showed it to them. “The most careful account you will ever find, and not a cent missing. We are very careful to pay everything we owe the King. The standard ten percent.”

 

Celeste took another book, labeled “Accounts of Fairness.” It was very dusty. When she opened it, the pages were blank. She checked the book beside it, “Acts of Compassion,” and found it too was blank. She put them back without saying anything. But she was beginning to suspect that the travelers who lived in Pigeon Hole neglected the more important matters of the King’s law, ignoring justice, mercy, and faithfulness—even love itself. Perhaps they would also strain out a gnat from their cup while swallowing a horse whole.

 

“I’ll leave you to study the rules. It’s time to do my obligations.” Without offering them anything to eat or drink or showing them where they might rest, Reverend Strict went off.

 

“Isn’t this great?” Peter said. “Just think, a room of our own, guaranteed safety, a view of the King’s City. What more do we need?”

 

“Didn’t you notice he only talked about the King’s rules and never talked about the King Himself? I think he cares more about
the regulations than the One who gave them.”

 

“But you heard what he said. If we stay here and follow all the rules, the King is bound to come here for a visit. We won’t have to worry about making any more wrong turns, falling into any traps, or being devoured by the roaring lion.”

 

“But the Servant walked the path to free us from this,” Celeste said. “Don’t you remember the heavy chains you had to carry?”

 

“This is different. No one is forcing us to come here. We’re free to stay.”

 

“But there is so little water, and they don’t even have a regular guidebook, just the snippets pasted on the rule wall. And where’s the view of the King’s City?”

 

Another guard appeared, looking like a twin of the first one. “I’m Reverend Severe, the brother of Reverend Strict. Come with me, and I’ll show you the view.”

 

They followed him to the second level. At one of the doors, he took a key from his pocket.

 

“Are all the doors locked?” Celeste asked.

 

Reverend Severe gave a little laugh. “You think it’s strange that the traveler is locked in the room? Yes, people wonder about that. But you can see how high up we are, so we keep the doors locked to protect the travelers inside.”

 

“But why doesn’t it lock from the inside? Then the person could get out when they want to.”

 

“No one has ever asked,” Reverend Severe said. “They are so afraid that they may sleepwalk during the night and fall down and be killed, they prefer to let me have the keys.”

 

When he opened the door, Celeste and Peter were so surprised,
they stepped back and almost fell off the ledge behind them. The inside was as dirty as the outside was clean. It had no furniture, but was littered with piles of bones and garbage. A man sat on the floor with his eyes closed. There was a strong odor of decay, and Celeste noticed a white mass moving in the corner. When she realized it was a heap of maggots, she almost screamed.

 

Reverend Severe seemed oblivious to the stench and the filth. “The thing to notice is what an excellent view this traveler has of the King’s City.”

 

Celeste refused to enter, but Peter stepped in gingerly. He went to the back wall, where there was a hole the size of a dinner plate. “He’s right, there is a view of the King’s City. But it’s a shame the window is too small to see the full panorama. It’s such a beautiful sight.”

 

“The traveler doesn’t mind,” Reverend Severe said. “He’s learned not to be greedy and to be content with what he has.”

 

“Does every room have a window?” Peter asked.

 

“Yes.” Reverend Severe seemed to swell. “Every single one. The ones on the top level are the best, though they are a little smaller and the air is much colder at the top. But all the same they give a very nice view of what there is to see.”

 

“How small exactly are the windows on the top level?” Celeste asked from the doorway.

 

“Oh, big enough.”

 

She supposed that meant the windows were tiny. “The size of a coin?”

 

“Yes, that sounds about right.”

 

The traveler had gotten up off the floor and began bowing in
front of Reverend Severe. “Oh, pure one,” he said.

 

Reverend Severe puffed out his chest. “Thank you, traveler,” he said. “Please, sit down. No need to stand.” But the traveler remained standing, as if he was afraid of Reverend Severe.

 

Reverend Severe led Peter out and locked the door.

 

“Who lives on the top level?” Peter asked.

 

“The most obedient have earned the rooms on the top level. As I said, it’s colder up there, but by the time saints get there, they’ve learned not to mind suffering.”

 

“And which room is yours?” Celeste asked.

 

“It’s on the top level, the one in the very middle.”

 

It was the most prominent alcove and jutted out with a little veranda. The door was silver instead of brass, engraved with an ornate design.

 

“I see you’re admiring my door—it’s one of my small pleasures,” Reverend Severe said.

 

Celeste shuddered, thinking how much filthier his room would be than the one they had just seen.

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