Pathway Chapter 6

Chapter 6

     The night was muggy, and though the protective gel soothed and cooled David’s skin, it didn’t prevent his nostrils from taking in the uncomfortably stuffy, humid air. He sat huddled with his family in a dense area of the forest, sheltered by a lean-to Simas had hastily and efficiently constructed out of branches. Foliage and plants had been placed over it, shrouding the Emerson’s under an umbrella of gloom.

     Mindy sat cross-legged at the shelter’s entrance, her expressionless face pale in the faint moonlight that crept its way past the trees and into their dark recess. In the dimness, her red hair was shaded almost black. She reminded David of some mythical figure. Maybe a ghostly spirit or a vampire from Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight series.

     David’s parents rested in the far left corner of the lean-to, their bodies only vague impressions, even when one’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. At first, father had tried to make conversation with mother, but she’d ignored him. She was brooding, withdrawing into her own little world, like she sometimes did when father hurt her or angered her. And she was indeed angry, angry at this whole outrageous situation. The only way she knew  to release her pent up frustration was to take it out on father, as she’d learned to do throughout the years of their marital discord.

     Disgusted at her rude withdrawal from him, father had turned over and lay on his other side, facing away from her.

     Father’s and mother’s relationship had come crashing down not long after father had published his second novel. His love for writing had morphed from love to passion, from passion to obsessive passion, especially as greater success was bestowed upon him. He’d deleted many of his family responsibilities as easily as he deleted words on his computer screen; consequently, mother had emotionally retreated from their marriage, constantly working overtime at her office as a legal secretary and busying herself at home. She was too absorbed in her own hurt to fully recognize its effect on her children, David guessed.

     All these sentiments rang true in the silence his parents now held between them.

     David turned his attention to Tim, who sat a few feet away to David’s left. Tim could be partially seen in the weak moonlight, his head and upper body mostly visible, his legs totally obscured in shadow, as though his upper half was floating there, disembodied from the rest of him. He was looking intently at something in his hand, something square. A picture by the looks of it.

     Tim noticed David staring and quickly stuffed the picture away. “Hey,” Tim cleared his throat, “for an awake person, you’ve been pretty quiet.”

     “Look who’s talking.”

     Tim scooted over, moving right against David in the tight space. “Surprised Mindy can’t sleep. Then again, vampires like her are at their most wakeful state when it’s dark out,” he spoke loud enough for her to hear.

     She didn’t say anything or look at him, but merely flipped him off.

     Under normal circumstances, David would have smiled and shaken his head at Tim’s harassing nature, but the graveness of their predicament weighed over him too much for humor to affect him.

     Another minute of silence stole the air. Then David asked, “Was that Elizabeth?”

     “Huh?”

     “The picture you were holding. Was it of Elizabeth?”

     Sadness overtook Tim’s face. “Yeah, Elizabeth.”

     The two didn’t say much after that. They were quiet awhile, their ears ringing in the stillness. Not even a cricket chirped, nor was any other common song or cry of the night evident.

     “Look,” Tim finally said, awkwardly, “I want to apologize for earlier today. About doubting some of the things you said.”

     “It’s all right.”

     “No, it isn’t. I was a jerk, and I made fun of you.”

     “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have believed me either.”

     “But still, I shouldn’t have poked fun at you. So, I’m sorry, okay?”

     “Yeah, no problem.”

     “So no hard feelings?”

     “No hard feelings. We’re all under a lot of stress.”

     “I know, this is totally unreal. It’s like we’re on another world or something.”

     “It appears we are.”

     “But, come on, bro! That concept isn’t consistent with reality. Other worlds, different dimensions, they’re all for Fantasy and Sci-fi flicks. If any flipping bit of its real…I don’t know. It’d be cool and all, but I’m already starting to wonder about my sanity.”

     “Why, though? I mean, maybe people have the imagination they do because, deep down, we believe in other worlds and different dimensions. I mean, when we die, we see a bright light, right? We go somewhere disconnected from our own world. And I’ve read of several accounts where people were aware of angelic beings guarding over them. Those are all manifestations of a separate reality, so it’s no different from what we’re experiencing now.”

     “Well, heaven and hell I can deal with,” in the dim light, David saw Tim tug on a silver cross necklace, a souvenir from his rebellious years when father had sent him to Catholic school. “But I’m not one to stoop so low as to believe in fairy tales.”

     “The supernatural isn’t a fairy tale. Just because we don’t understand something or can’t explain it, doesn’t make it less real.”

     Tim smiled. “You know, Dave, your one level-headed dude.”

     “Maybe I’m just a simpleton who accepts things too easily.”

     “No. You’re a dude who sees things for what they are, not how you want to see them.”

     “I don’t know about that,” David said doubtfully.

     “Hey, I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true”

     “To be quite honest, right now I’d rather not see things for what they are. I’d rather see the glass half full. But so far, it’s unquestionably half-empty.”

     “What’re you saying?”

     “I’m saying I don’t see us getting out of here alive.”

     “Don’t speak that way, Dave, you have to have hope.”

     “It’s hard to have hope in the face of such unknowns.”

     “Hey, quit this gloomy nonsense,” Tim punched David in the shoulder.

     “Ow!”

     “Sorry.”

     “Well, I can’t help it. It’s only natural to be scared. You’re scared, aren’t you?”

     “Flippin’ yeah! Who wouldn’t be?”

     “Exactly.”

     “But you wanna know what? We’ve got to be optimistic, regardless of our fears. If we don’t keep our hopes high, then we’ll lose our will to fight whatever else comes our way. So no more of this pessimistic talk of not getting out of here alive. From here on out, it’s hope or nothing. That cool?”

     A smile finally formed on David’s face. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

     “High-five me then.”

     David gave him a good high-five. “Now we’re talkin,’” Tim said.

     David was feeling much less tense all of a sudden. He was relaxing and felt like he might even consider settling down for the night.

     Until sudden movement caught his attention.

     Mindy was getting to her feet, her eyes wide with apprehension. “Someone’s coming,” she whispered.

     Their parents sat up in alarm. Father shoved his hand under his shirt, gripping the gun, ready to use it at the slightest notice of danger. David prayed with everything that was in him that this was Simas returning. He recalled Simas’s talk of shedim, and wild pictures of grotesque beings bombarded his mind. Were they like the impish thing that had captured them? Or were they drooling, ravenous monsters of huge proportion? So demonic and strong and fearsome that they made the short, abducting imp seem cute and cuddly by comparison?

     One disturbing fact kept spinning through David’s thoughts.

     Something Simas had said:

     The shedim will be out most at nightfall.

     Branches crackled and snapped. Several footsteps brushed over the dirt ground. Hushed whispers could be heard. A soft, red light suddenly appeared over the outside brush, steadier than a flickering flame, creeping its way into the shelter.

     A wickedly distorted shadow followed.

     David held his breath, and everyone backed as far from the entrance as they could possibly go.

     Simas ducked and entered headfirst, standing tall when he was all the way in. All of them rose at his presence, for the refuge could accommodate everyone’s height.

     Simas held an object in each hand. In his right hand, he held out a red glowing rock, which blinked and pulsed with energy. In his left hand, he clutched a lumpy sack, perhaps containing food. David’s mouth watered at the thought of food, and he was finally realizing how hungry he really was.

     A man appeared behind Simas, his eyes wildly and suspiciously darting about. He was a spindly fellow, obviously Italian, with an olive complexioned skin and black, curly hair. His face wasn’t handsome or charming, but contained more of a vibrant, boyish quality.

     Behind him, a young woman entered, her gaze distant and fixed with fear. The fear seemed to fix her blue-gray eyes into a zombie like stillness, as though she were in a trance or had no soul.

     David felt a chill overtake him, though he knew her vacant expression was due to shock, not from some entranced state.

     “I’ve brought some food,” Simas announced. “Eat, and then I will explain some things.”

     David tore at the sweet, juicy meat, which tasted heavily of wild game. His stomach growled even as he ate, and the sound of smacking lips and wet, unmannerly chewing pervaded the place.

     “Tastes like venison,” Carl spoke approvingly.

     “It’s…very good,” Laura said, a sheepish smile on her face.

     In acknowledgment of her compliment, Simas graciously bowed his head.

     Mindy took slow, unsure bites, her stare never wavering from Simas, as if she expected him to quickly sneak poison into the meat sack when nobody was watching.

     “But for all we know,” the Italian man fussed, “this could really be a stinking lizard we’re chewing down.”

     The wiry Italian had introduced himself as Mark Ditonto, an agent for some insurance company. He and his girlfriend, Belinda Sherwood, had been taking a stroll on the beach when a ghastly lizard-like animal had swooped down in front of them.

     “You are perfect,” it had told them. “You’re hatred runs deep.”

     Mark had turned to run, but as he did so, Belinda’s spine tingling scream stopped him in his tracks. He whirled around, ready to rush to her aid. But she was gone.

     And so was the talking lizard.

     Until, that is, a shadow glided across the sand, shooting toward him like a missile. The shadow had widespread wings, a small head. Before Mark had a chance to look up, the creature dove down on him, ramming into his back. He went face first into the beach, gritty sand lodging itself in his mouth. When he began to lift himself up, a cold, leathery hand squeezed  the back of his neck, pushing him back down.

     Then came the light, the tunnel, and then this strange, sun scorched land.

     Mark and Belinda had wandered into the opposite side of the forest as the Emerson’s had. They were lost, aimless, searching for help for what seemed like hours on end. Then Simas had showed up, touting his exotic sunscreen and offering them shelter for the night.

     “I’m just curious, Mark,” Carl said as they concluded their meal, “what do you think the thing meant by ‘your hatred runs deep?’ ”

     Mark paced around the center pole supporting the lean-to’s structure. “Jeez, how should I know? We’re all hateful about something, aren’t we? The only thing I can figure is that Belinda and I were having a heated discussion at the time. The little creep must have overheard us. Whatever the heck it was.”

     Belinda abruptly left her spot on the floor and walked outside, drawing everyone’s attention.

     “Belinda, honey,” Mark’s voice became high-pitched, “what are you doing? It could be dangerous out there!”

     She flashed him a spiteful glare and brought a pack of cigarettes out of her pants pockets. Bringing a lighter to her cigarette, she puffed on it as if it were some life giving force. Ever since she’d arrived, she had not spoken a word.

     David marveled at what an unlikely pair the two were. Mark was, in no better terms of description, a jittery nitpick, where Belinda was a trim, ravishing blond that could pass for a model and had the personality of a sly, watchful cat.

     As she remained outside, reveling in her nicotine addiction, Simas began urging everyone to gather around. “Everyone listen closely to what I have to say. The time has come for me to explain some things to you. I will speak so that all may hear,” he said as he gave Belinda a disapproving glance.

     David settled down and nestled between his parents, giving Simas his full attention. Everyone was stock still.

     “Now then,” Simas began, “I know all of you must be confused and dismayed. You haven’t a clue as to where you really are, how you really got here, and how you will escape. And it’s obvious that, regardless of the evidence around you and my own testimony, you are still doubtful concerning the fact that you are beyond your own world.”

     “So where are we, then?” Mindy said with derision. “Narnia?”

     Simas raised an eyebrow. “Narnia? I don’t know of a Narnia.”

     “It’s the mythical land in a children’s story,” Carl explained.

     “Well, young lady,” Simas addressed Mindy, “this is no mythical land. You are in Sion, a place as real as the sun that scorched you earlier today. If you do not believe now, I assure you, you will be utterly convinced by tomorrow. Yeshmuel will come, and he will show you a power and a strength that will shake your souls to the very core!” Simas’s eyes were flaming, passionate. “If you choose to follow him, you will never be the same. The soft whisper that is his voice will ignite a fire in you, burning away the poisonous trappings of your corrupt human hearts!”

     His fervor was infectious, and David felt like his own eyes were bulging with the same wonder that radiated from Simas’s.

     Carl raised his hand. “Look, this Yeshmaul – ”

     “Yeshmuel,” Simas corrected.

     “Okay, Yeshmuel. This Yeshmuel sounds quite inspiring and all, but maybe we don’t want to burn away the trappings of our corrupt human hearts. Maybe we don’t give a hoot about his soft, whispery voice. Right now, we’re just scared out of our wits, and all we want is to get back home, where we belong. And I’d sure like to know how this great Yeshmuel of yours is going to pull that off.”

     Simas sat in front of them, crossing his legs. He set his glowing rock near his feet, as though it were the campfire around which he would tell his story. Everyone stared in awe of it, and Simas smiled. “It’s powered by our sun,” he explained. “If you leave it lay in the full glare of the sun for a full day, then it will last you nearly all night.”

     “Hey, that’s fascinating and all,” Mark said. “But let’s hurry up and hear the ‘getting back home’ part.”

     “Yes, Carl just asked how my great Yeshmuel will pull this off. Well, I will tell you.” He paused for emphasis. “Long ago, there was a great battle between my people, the Cherabi, and the shedim, enemies of Yeshmuel. The war raged on for several years, disrupting the peace of our kingdom. Nary a young man was left in our city. All were away fighting gallantly for our freedom.

     “As time progressed, the shedim grew more skilled in their sorceries. They went about, cursing many areas of the land, and as a result, the animals, the ground…anything touched by their curse was possessed by their wickedness. In the meantime, they continued to evade our advances, moving from hiding spot to hiding spot with greater proficiency. But with Yeshmuel’s guidance, we eventually hunted them down to the last one, exiling them to the very forests and valleys they’d corrupted.”

     “Wicked,” Mindy said.

     “Yes, the shedim’s land is very wicked,” Simas answered her, miscomprehending her slang. “And as a result of their evil, all the shedim will someday dwell eternally in Sheol.”

     “Sheol?” Said Mark.

     “Yes, Sheol. The lower realms.”

     “Lower realms?” Mark repeated nervously.

     “A place reserved for punishment and torment. That’s where most of them are to this day. But many still roam the cursed lands, seeking a means to escape their imprisonment.” 

     “What’s any of this have to do with us?” Carl asked.

     “In the middle of the shedim’s land, a large hill rests. A hill of such dimensions, you could easily mistake it for a mountain. It is on this hill you will find a way back to your homeland.”

     “Don’t tell me,” Mindy said, “on this hill is some type of portal that will magically whisk us back to Kansas.”

     “If you wish to use the word portal, then yes, it is a portal. A doorway which opens into another time, another world. Namely, your earth.”

     “Oh, brother,” Mindy rolled her eyes.

     Mark gulped. “But we have to go through the shedim’s land to get there?”

     Mark caught everyone – save David – staring at him as if he were a fruitcake. “Not that I believe in that kind of baloney,” he explained, his cheeks flushing red.

     “That’s where the good news comes in,” Simas continued. “Yeshmuel has always known you humans would someday come to this place. Centuries ago, in preparation for your arrival, he cleared a pathway through the wicked lands, a road that would afford you protection from danger and lead you to his Father’s gateway. It is a road you must not stray from, for virtually every piece of land outside of Yeshmuel’s pathway is brimming with the shedim’s destructive power.”

     “So let me get this straight,” Carl said, “we’re all shielded from danger as long as we stay on this path. But what are we shielded by? Some magical power I suppose?” He said with a cynical tone.

     “No, not magic,” Simas chuckled. “Magic is for sorcery and witchcraft. I’m talking about a power that flows from righteousness and is wielded for justice. And none of those things can be done in conjunction with the black arts.”

     “How many days’ walk is this…path?”

     “Only a days’ walk, if we proceed unimpeded.”

     “A days’ walk. Yeah, that’s not too bad,” said Mark.

     Simas drilled him with a look of warning. “The pathway is not an easy one. It is difficult, running through rough terrain.”

     “You mentioned that Yeshmuel made this path centuries ago,” David said. “Can all of you live that long?”

     “Yes, we can. Here, in Sion, our lifespan can be up to nine-hundred years of age.”

     “What about the city you live in? It must be heavily populated.”

     “Very populated. But do you want to hear the amazing thing? There’s no crime. No corruption. It’s a genuine utopia, with lush gardens and sparkling waters flowing through the streets,” he spoke with a sense of wonder. “Gold and riches abound. The unfortunate thing is that, with our ever expanding population, thousands have been forced to migrate and form smaller settlements.”

     “Bummer,” Tim said.

     “Oh, it is no great loss for them. It is not the material things that bind us together, but each other.”

     “This city of yours sounds like Shangri-la or something,” said Mark. “Would normal people such as Belinda and I…ever be permitted to live there? You know, say if we chose to?” David wasn’t sure if Mark was joking or serious, but his look was excessively eager, hopeful.

     “That would not be wise,” Simas replied. “Even with the concoction I gave you, and even if you were to cover your bodies with it every single day, the sun would still make a quick death of you.”

     “Quick death?”

     “Yes. In a few years, you would be afflicted with a terminal illness. You humans call it skin cancer.”

     “Oh, this is just ducky! So what, even now we’re being slowly cooked to death? This is nuts! How do you expect us to believe all these tall tales? It’s like asking us to throw our brains in the trash can! It’s like – ” He paced about, agitated, twirling a finger through his curly mop of hair.

     “My main concern,” Carl said, “is to find out what attacked my family. And why.”

     “The shedim sent one of their own to abduct you and bring you here,” Simas answered.

     “Why?” Carl demanded.

     “As I said before, they are enemies of Yeshmuel. They wish to draw him into their own wicked territory. And you are the means by which they intend to lure him in.”

     “So who are these shedim? Some warring tribe? Some terrorist group? We deserve a valid answer.”

     “Actually, I think you’ve heard enough for tonight,” Simas got up. “You’d better get your rest. All of you have a long and bewildering day ahead. It might just be the longest day of your lives, for there will be a great deal to remember.”    

     “But – ”

     “Goodnight, and rest peacefully.”

     Simas turned and exited the shelter. On his way out, Belinda strode up to him. With deliberation, she blew a long cloud of smoke in his face. “Your so full of it,” she bit off the words, dropping her cigarette and mashing it into the ground near Simas’s feet.

     Pushing past Simas into the lean-to, she said, “I need a comfortable spot to lay. Mark, move over,” she barged up to him. “You can sleep on the other side.”

     Mark rose up and nearly staggered over backwards as she jostled into his spot. “Ah, sure, honey. Wherever you want to rest.”

     Simas shook his head. “You humans are so beautiful, so unique. Yet ensnared by so many iniquities.”

     “We are what we are,” Carl muttered.

     “What about your rock, here?” Laura asked, pointing to the luminous stone.

     Simas waved his hand. “I have many like it, so you may keep it, if you wish. Just cover it with something if you wish to extinguish its light. It’s not hot.

     “Now, if you happen to need me for any reason, I’ll be right out here, guarding the camp. So there is no need for your crude weapon there,” he indicated Carl. “Besides, unless you were to hit a shedim in its weak spot – which is very difficult, by the way – your projectile would only glance off of its tough skin.”

     Carl peeked self-consciously at where his gun was hidden under the shirt.

     Before Simas could disappear out of sight, David asked a question of which he was already certain of the answer, but which he was compelled to ask for his own assurance. “This Yeshmuel, he’ll go with us on the path? He’ll watch over us?”

     Simas looked back and smiled. “Remain close by his side, and do not stray from the right or to the left, and then yes, you will be safe.

     “Trust in his power, David.”

     At that, Simas ambled off, his form melding in with the night shadows.

     David struggled for an hour to achieve sleep, though it felt like he’d tossed and turned for a whole night. He was tormented by a newfound anxiety, and he had no doubt his fear was greater than anyone else’s. Mostly for the simple reason that he believed every word Simas had spoken. Indeed, David didn’t understand how everyone could deny the strangeness of the things that had happened to them.

     Sometime in the middle of the night, he was vaguely aware of borrowing the luminous rock and taking it with him outside so that he could relieve himself in the bushes. He couldn’t recall if it was then, when he was standing near the bushes, or if it was during a vivid dream, but he distinctly remembered a clearing in the forest, which offered a perfect view of the full moon, which was a deeper blue than the moon on earth. Against the moon, a dark shape circled in the air, with gigantic wings and a serpentine tail.

     A teeth-chattering chill escaped him. The flying apparition reminded him of the creature that had brought them here. Only five times bigger.