Zollocco: A Novel of Another Universe (16 page)

The next day, too, it poured and poured. As the rain splattered and dribbled across the windows, I stood alone, stirring a large steaming pot of bark stew. I felt like a witch, like the women in Medieval stories who had sought solitude and refuge in the woods. Like them, I was becoming NatureWise. I knew which plants were good to eat, which fungus and leaf were soothing to a wound, and I also knew what the birds' songs meant. But of what use was all of this knowledge when I went among people and their cities? The rain continued its friendly tap, tap, and tap at the windows. I added seasonings, the sweet and the sour, to the stew.

On the fourth day of my confinement in the house, shafts of deep blue dawn-light urged me from my sleep. I threw open a window and leaned out. Clean soft scents wafted up to me. Warmth, like a fresh bath towel buffeted my body gently. I took one of the robes and two of the ropes with me into the woods because I lightheartedly decided to camp out that night. I had had enough of being locked up in the house.

Listening to night sounds in the Forest was like listening to a child stir and speak in its sleep. Indistinct, half formed expressions and movements rippled occasionally across the face of the pool and through the drowsy tree limbs. As I strolled through the night, I wondered what the house looked like in the light of the celestial bodies. I decided to go look at the house. I didn't find it. It didn't take me long to realize the Forest was keeping me away from it.

I was so surprised at the Forest that I said aloud, "But I live there! I want to see what it looks like in the dark."
Moss, bark, and animals started, as though they had only just recognized me in their drowsiness. I then was able to find the clearing, but the house was invisible. Incredibly, it seemed the house was nonexistent. Looking carefully, I saw that what looked like pockets of deep shadows were portions of the house. The tinted glass side absorbed blackness; it did not reflect the stars. Somehow, I managed to find the door. The door was firmly locked. I wandered back among the trees, enchanted by the sweet fragrances, the gentle murmurs of leaves, and the sublime beauty of the shadows' varying tones.
At one point, I stopped moving, feeling as though some magical spell depended on my silence, my immobility, and my presence. Above me, I saw an owl alight on a branch and swivel his head. The owl ruffled his feathers, which in this dim light appeared to be mere bands of gradations of gray. In daylight, those bands were a rainbow spectrum. The eyes of the owl glinted red, then yellow, and then red. I waited for his call, a sound I knew well but not it's meaning. The owl's chest filled and the first hoot echoed through the night. What was this? Were some of these plants around me beginning to glimmer? A second hoot, a third, a fourth, a fifth, and with each haunting sound strange bulbous shapes glowed brighter and brighter with a marvelous incandescent light. The wings of the owl spread and their colors were now electrically alive in the glow of the bulbs. The bulbs opened into five-point flowers. The flowers glowed the color of ultraviolet light, the stamen of each shining the blue of the Forest's dawn. The owl swooped to each flower in turn; a wonderful, brilliant sight, and then he flew away.
And I, in that magical night ran possessed with happy abandon in the pitch black dark. Somehow, my footing was certain of the path. The foolishness and joy of running in zero visibility made me laugh and laugh. When I reached my destination, a small grove of fruit trees, I hung the robe I had brought with me between branches like a hammock. I perched in the soft, warm hammock like a hatchling in its nest. Asleep in the grove, I dreamed that the miniature waterfall and the strange gnarled tree were small children, left to cry before they fell asleep. The deep blue light and the desire to sooth the Forest woke me. I climbed out of, unhooked, and shook out the robe and put it on.
The trees were silent, and no bird sang. The shadows hung like circles under tired eyes. The Woods was sad. Why was it sad, I asked myself, and the answer came: today was the day I was to leave. I looked up to the left of me, to the right of me, ahead of me. The Forest was so still, like an infant unable to speak its thoughts. My shoulders shivered; there was a chill in the air. How does one person cheer up an entire Forest? In my anxiety, I found myself picking up a baby strolling forsythia and gently pulling its little blossoms. Unfortunately, I wasn't careful enough, and the bush yowled and jumped away from me. I cautiously went over to an animal I saw hiding behind a tree. The animal looked to be half koala bear and half kangaroo with webbed paws. I let it smell my hand, and then I scratched its ears. The animal climbed into my lap. This was awkward because it was bigger than I. It was so large it kept slipping off the narrow seat of my lap. At last the creature gave up the attempt, and hopped despondently away. Next, I tried to cheer the woods by singing. So there I was, out in the midst of nowhere, singing a lullaby to a magnificent Forest, feeling very self-conscious, and modulating every four bars. The bark of the trees began to chirp.
The bark was actually twitching it was making so much noise. The camouflage bees were turning blue then red then yellow then blue again in rapid succession. The leaves of every plant began shaking like mad. The Forest was laughing at me! I stopped singing and looked sheepishly at my feet. I wanted to run away, but there wasn't anywhere to run that wasn't laughing. I looked up at the bark, the foliage, the bees; I just shook my head and sighed. At least the Forest was cheered up.
Now how was I to find a town? A large, pink butterfly caught my eyes. I followed the pretty thing, decided its direction was as good as any to find a town, and besides, it was so pretty I had to follow it. Soon it fluttered quickly out of sight. I chose a new direction, but there seemed to be an awful lot of little plants in the way. I also seemed to have immersed myself among gnats. The proliferation of flora, not to mention gnats, prevented me from pursuing this direction. I stopped, looked around, and chose another direction. The way was easier now, fewer gnats; the plants seemed to make way for me, and the Forest was yes, it was, well, cooing. I stopped. If the Forest wanted me to stay, it would be encouraging me to get lost again or go back to the house.
I relaxed and tried to find that part of me that seemed to sense things, know things. I sensed people, a settlement; yes, this was the way to go. I started walking again. I was getting thirsty. Just as I thought this, I saw a stream a little way ahead of me. I crouched at its band, washed my face, drank, fished some food out of my pack, ate, and drank some more. The day was growing warmer, so I took off the robe and stuffed it in my pack. I continued on. I hoped no one in the town would claim the robe so I could keep it. Still I walked and grew hungry again; this time wishing for some truffles. I decided to sit and rest for a bit. As I sat, I absentmindedly dug a hole by a root with my toe. Oh, my, truffles! I ate them sadly. Truffles were among the first things I had eaten in these woods; now they were among the last.
It seemed this gentle Woodland was seeing to my every need, aware of my wants before I was. This might have been eerie, but the leafy tenderness surrounding me made fear of the Forest impossible. What had I feared, I thought as I waded through Saemunsil. I stopped. Where had that name come from? I continued on, looking around me, reminiscing already about the yellow Strolling Forsythia stretching and scampering away from me that first morning; the Homely-Bush pulling the fat worm out of the ground and eating it with great smacking enjoyment; the glow of the night flowers as the owl hooted at them to bloom and provide him with nectar. Where was I? What was I thinking of? Oh, fear, I feared--but then ahead of me I saw the last trees of these beautiful woods. Golden sunlight was mingling with blue. I stopped and looked solemnly at the plant life.
"Thank you" I couldn't help whispering.
I rummaged through my pack. I pulled out a pair of socks and laid them on the ground as a gift. Maybe a bird could use them as part of a nest. I didn't know what else to give.

Her little, soft, foot cocoons lie with the leaf cover in gift and in covenant with Our Shade.
Farewell, human. Our Shade shall ever shadow you.

CHAPTER SEVEN
The Blue Dawn

I came upon a cultivated field that was rich with life. A figure stooped and shrunken with age squatted among some low-lying plants snipping unwanted growth aggressively with her clippers. A huge straw hat tied securely with a bright red scarf protected her shriveled pink face from the sun. Her clothing was a colorful array of pastels. Absorbed in her task, she paid no attention to me as I passed.

There were small stone buildings beyond the field, and so I made my way towards them. An old man ceased his raking for a spell to wipe the sweat from his face and smile and nod at me as I passed him. Another oldster, further afield, busied himself about a wind generator with the quick, deft grace of experienced skill. Had I stumbled upon a geriatric community? The settlement of buildings and small cluster of houses was well shaded with fragrant trees. The small lawns were lushly green. Trellises and arbor ways were laden with colorful, fragrant blossoms. An air of mystery, waiting, presence pervaded the place.

I entered the largest building. It was a large, simple, wooden assembly room. In here, the atmosphere seemed to churn with an oddly intangible energy. Reverence seemed to speak aloud in the beautiful, plush, scarlet carpets and upholstery. Somehow, the ages seemed to be housed in the hall. Feeling somewhat spooked, I did not linger very long in there.

People were doubtlessly around, but no one was visible. It was very strange. Footsteps climbing a porch and entering a house; an occasional murmur of a vehicle starting up; voices cascading form an unseen yard, the distant grinding of a hand powered garden machine--these were the evidences of people going about their normal day.

I continued along until I came to a small stone building designated by its sign as the library. Behind the library, Saemunsil --I mean the Forest--resumed. My stomach growling, I made a little foray into the woods for some lunch, and then I returned to the library.

The library was huge although from the outside it looked modest in size. Most of the library was underground. The first floor contained a foyer that led to a lounge, which in turn led to a balcony. The balcony encircled and looked down four floors upon an indoor courtyard. Above the balcony, the courtyard was roofed and illuminated by skylights. Below the balcony, the floor of the courtyard was dotted with tables seating people studying. Access to the lower levels and the courtyard was simply a matter of walking the downward spiraling floor, passing the stacks level down to level. Various people were busy among the books. Reaching the bottom at last, I made my way to what seemed to be the librarian's desk. I received a jolt of recognition, surprise, and pleasure because behind the desk, grinning at me and robed in blue, sat the priestly music professor who had helped me to escape from the university. His black flute case was set on the table before him.

"What a coincidence!" I exclaimed.

"Coincidence? We were expecting thee for the mid-day meal," smiled the priest.
"Expecting me for the mid-day meal? I just ate thank you."
"Where didst thou find food?"
"In the woods behind this building."
"Thou ate the wild stuff of the woods? Tell me, didst thou not just arrive in our fields from the city Ichloz?"
"No, I landed in the Forest and lived there for a week or so."
"Thou didst live in this Forest?" The Priest was incredulous.
"Yes, and I found a really lovely house there which was left empty with its front door off the hinges. The whole house is full of furniture."
"I am amazed, and know not what to say."
"How did you know I had been in Ichloz? What is this place anyway?"
"This is The Seminary of the Blue Dawn Order of Priestesses and Priests. The house where thou didst stay is the place of retreat for our disciples' final test of awareness. The disciples receive instruction here first to ready themselves for the visit to Saemunsil. Thou seems to have done thy training backwards."
I regarded the Priest with consternation. I remembered the promise I had made, the promise that if the Forest World helped Earth I would study at one of the Forests' seminaries. Also, the Priest's referring to the Forest as Saemunsil, the name I had called the woodland, unnerved me.
A group led by a round, middle-aged woman, her blue robe swinging gracefully from her shoulders came up to us. She had immensely curly brown hair, which was grayed attractively at the temples, and had lovely strains of white and gray ribbonning through the brown curls.
"Ah, the disciple of my dream," the woman cooed in a rich contralto voice. "Welcome. We were expecting thee for the mid-day meal."
"She ate in the woods."
"Thank you for your offer of a meal, anyway. I'm not sure I want to join your religion, I was wondering if it is possible to study here at the seminary without becoming a Priestess."
The Priest answered, "Oh yes, many people do that."
The Priestess smiled, "Many visitors come for a few days to study or vacation. Thou hast spent some time in the Wood and must desire a return to city life. If thou dost wish to return to Ichloz, we shall be happy to arrange transportation for thee,"
"Not Ichloz! I mean, thanks, but I'd rather not return to Ichloz."
"Well, just tell us where thou dost wish to go and we shall send thee thither. If thou wilt excuse my group, we are to the salt temple."
At this, the chubby Priestess swirled through her party of disciples like a leaf bobbing through an eddy. She was as light on her feet and as graceful as a dancer.
At this one of the members of the group interrupted, "I thought the salt temple was a secret known only to the members of our order!"
The Priestess paused and turned to the one who had spoken.
"Wouldst thou hoard secrets? Our places of worship are forgotten and so lost to the people of Imenkapur. This does not mean we wish it so. Even those who wish to `debunk' us, as they call it, or fear us, or even hate us; even they, when at last they seek the internal truths, shall be guided to this and other shrines." The beauty of Priestess' voice was even more convincing than her words.
"So we are free to tell others of this holy place and what goes on here; what we believe in?"
"What we believe in?" the Priest interjected, "dost thou claim to speak for all?"
"Surely my truth is your truth?"
The Priest and Priestess looked at one another.
"What truth are you talking about?" I couldn't keep my big mouth shut.
The Priest and Priestess smirked at each other. Some of the other people in the library over-hearing the conversation drew close to listen.
“Why the Great Truth!" indignantly answered the disciple. I couldn't help laughing at this.
"And what Great Truth is that, pray tell?" I challenged.
A few more people, including a few more of the Holy Folk collected about us.
The disciple looked me up and down, and said with all of the arrogance and hauteur he could muster, "That the Forest World Ipernia destroys all false religions--"
Priestess and Priest winced and regarded the young man with faces of distaste.
"-- and teaches us the proper, the true, the highest, and the only faith."
"If you think you know the greatest truth, then why do you wish to be a student here?" spoke up a man who carried a massive stack of books.
`To find the magic places, of course, to get the holy robe which brings such esteem, and to learn the spells that curse our enemies," answered the disciple.
The Priests and Priestesses all looked very uncomfortable.
"It seems to me," I said, "that what you really want is power and acclaim."
"Power and fame are needed to frighten and drive back those who oppose the ruling majesty of the Forests and the Forest's magistrates. Power and acclaim are the tools of the righteous."
"Magistrates?" I asked.
"Do you jest?"
"Magistrates are appointed by ruling bodies of different worlds to uphold the laws enacted by the governments," explained the Priest, my friend.
"Wouldn't you rather be one of these magistrates then?" I suggested.
One of the other disciples, a woman spoke up, "My planet suffers from a shortage of Magistrates."
"How could any planet be short of Magistrates? It is such an honor to serve as one," said the disciple.
"Well, my planet was settled as a penal colony, and so the people need strict and single-minded Magistrates unafraid of the rough people and harsh living conditions."
I said, "Sounds like being a Priest would be pretty tame compared to that. Isn't that more to your liking--serving as Magistrate, enforcing the rules of justice in the spirit of preserving and perpetuating honesty among all?"
"There is a need, you know, a very great need," said the female disciple.
"Are there so few willing to take on the this duty?" asked the disciple, "How could that be?"
"Ah, we see the guidance of Saemunsil in this. Thou wert brought here not necessarily to become a Priest, but to find that thy talents are of a sort desperately needed elsewhere," smiled the Priestess with a quick look at me.
The disciple took a deep breath to argue, and the crowd of us remained silent watching him. Expressions played across the faces: here a look of pity fighting with annoyance, there a look of breath-held careful watchfulness; on this face sympathy mixed with encouragement; on that face supplication tempered by firmness. The disciple's protest faded before it was given voice. His deep breath shattered in a sigh. The tilted chin here, the tightened lips there, and over there, the moistened eyes, he gathered in with a glance, and acknowledged with a bow of his head.
At last he spoke in quite a different tone than he had used before: "I believe what you say is true, I am somewhat overwhelmed. I think this means I am not fit to be a Priest. I have been accused of pride and arrogance in the past and so thought myself unfit to be a Magistrate. But now it seems it is the office of Priesthood that requires a humility sublime, and that is the office I may not hope to attain. To me the universe has always consisted of clear rights and clear wrongs. Is it in this that my arrogance has been rooted? And yet how could this be arrogance? You imply that the Great Truth that I have always striven to uphold does not exist. Which of us is in the right of this; which of us in the wrong? Yes, I must take myself to a place where I will not be burdened with such questions, such doubts, as you have planted in my mind. I have always dreamed of the salt temple, and I hope that this change in my course of life will not prevent me from seeing what is to me an emblem of the marvelous structure of the Forest element in human affairs. Please allow me the visit in the salt temple before I depart to seek office as a Magistrate."
The Priestess hugged the disciple, and her movement, like the locks raising the level of water in a river, allowed the others, like boats sailing upstream, to surge forward single file in embrace. I alone stood outside the group. He had found a place and purpose for himself. The others also knew why they were here and what they intended for themselves. I was the only one adrift in doubt, without a definite purpose. I tried to make myself invisible, or at least inconspicuous.
The Priestess whispered something in the ear of the now former disciple, and he glanced at me, nodded, and smiled.
"Come with us and see this temple," he said. "It is thought to be a place of mythos only, and therefore said to be of unspeakable loveliness. Since you served to rock the foundations of my beliefs, let me return the favor by securing you to a bedrock of exquisite beauty."
He took a step towards me; his arm extended, and encompassed me in the midst of the disciples now flowing toward the salt temple.
Along the bottom level and past the courtyard, the crowd of us flooded. We stood before a huge mural that depicted an ugly troll brandishing a sword.
"Disciples, you thought this troll's purpose was to keep you at your studies. He has another duty," the Priestess laughed, pulling a gold coin out of her pocket. She took a book off the bookcase next to the wall. She opened the book and we saw the book's center was solid, and a slot was centered under the words `Pay the toll here.' She slipped the gold coin into this slot and placed the book back on the shelf. Ancient gears grinding sounded from within the wall. With a loud mechanical hum the mural of the troll split in half. His torso and sword slowly raised up and out of sight hidden by the ceiling, while the lower portion of his body sank slowly into the floor. Beyond the disappearing mural lay a large room painted to look like a bridge. The floor was painted to look like wooden planks, railings were painted on the side walls, and between the painted railings, a churning river was depicted. Support beams reaching to the roof of the room had also been carefully painted on these side walls. Real lanterns, providing illumination, were attached to the fake support beams. A night sky complete with stars, comets, and planets was painted between the support beams. The ceiling was painted like a wooden roof and the forced perspective rafters were complete with illustrations of nests and gleaming-eyed, swallow-like, featherless birds. Laughing we entered, the Priestess last of all. Inside the room the Priestess pressed a button that caused a huge chained fence to come sliding down covering the entrance. When at last it noisily clanged to the floor, she secured its fastenings. Then she pressed another button, and slowly, with much creaking of gears and whining of cables, the mural closed. On our side, the back of the mural, another mural had been painted--the back of the troll.
"Let's hope he doesn't fart," someone said, and we all snickered and giggled.
The Priestess pressed another button, and the whole room shivered. The room began to descend, slowly, very slowly, mechanically grumbling as it lowered us. It was a good twenty minutes before the elevator shivered and halted before an enormous red wall. A sign on the wall read, "Danger! Do not wander alone in the mine." The Priestess pressed another button, which caused the red wall to part before her. When the two wall sections had completely slid aside, the Priestess unlatched the chain fence and lifted it up where the fence hung suspended. The Priestess took a lantern from where it was attached to a painted-on bridge post, gave it to a disciple, took another, and led the way. We entered the mine.
"When the first people landed on this planet, they recorded their arrival on film. Those old films still exist and are stored down here in this salt mine. Did you know we have footage of the Mother of Time?" the Priestess commented as she paraded us through the mine tunnels.
"Is this why Saemunsil is an eternally infant sized Forest? Her soil sits upon a salt deposit, so her roots may never reach too far down?" asked a disciple.
"Thou hast surmised truly," answered the Priestess, "Seven million pregnancies ago this area was a small ocean. Over time the ocean evaporated giving birth to this salt deposit--"
"There are still fossils in the walls!" interrupted a disciple who carried the other lantern.
"Yea, verily. Half a million pregnancies later the mountain to the north of us erupted repeatedly with lava and rich ash, covering this salt-filled basin. Within a year the seeds of Saemunsil had germinated and sprouted."
"How old is Saemunsil?" another disciple asked the question in my mind.
"More than four million pregnancies, less than five million. In half that lovely Forest stand the very trees that first sprouted."
I had heard of bonsai trees, but a bonsai Forest? And five million pregnancies-old trees, how could that be possible?
"It is a wonder the Forest did not collapse when the mine was created," the man with the lamp said.
"T'was no wonder. Saemunsil Herself did arrange for humans to come and dig tunnels through the salt. The tunnels prevent excess salt from seeping into the water table above. When enough salt had been removed to relieve this most ancient and revered Forest, Saemunsil, the mining ceased. Ah, we do approach our holy destination, the salt temple."
We entered a great hall of intricately carved walls of gleaming white. We arranged ourselves comfortably on furniture sculpted from and part of the same white substance.
"How old is this place?" someone whispered.
"It was carved nine hundred pregnancies after The Conception."
"By whom?"
"That is unknown."
"The volcano to the north, is it dormant or dead?"
"Volcanoes never die, but that one has been dormant for more than a million pregnancies," my friend the music professor Priest entering from behind us answered. "I have come to show those who are not here for instruction the way out."
I noticed the Priest I knew did wear a purple belt around his waist, and yet the Priestess and the others wearing blue robes did not wear a purple belt. I wanted to ask but this was clearly not the moment. His flute case was, as ever, tucked under his arm. Maybe only musician Priests and Priestesses wore purple belts.
The one who wished to become a Magistrate stood: "A moment longer, please."
"Of course, such a sight as this is rarely dreamed of, and yet here it is before thy very eyes. Lock the treasure of this sight in thy memory; thus in years hence thou mayst recall the vision when thy eyes and thy purpose falter and so remembering,grasp thy purpose again."
"After seeing this, my purpose can never falter," breathed the would-be Magistrate, his face lifted, gaping at every motif, every figurine carved in the high arching temple.
My friend the purple-belted Priest came over to me and rested his hand on my shoulder, "And thou? What is thy will?"