Boy's story part V...

Jonah’s bed traveled faster than ever. Through galaxies and constellations and gaseous planets and planet’s rings. Through meteor fields, comet fields, around moons and through suns. Tristan spoke and said, “Listen.” Madeline spoke and said, “This is important.” And Jonah listened while the two stars, his new friends, told him what he must do.

“When you land,” they said, “it will be cold and dark. You will hear strange voices that you will not understand. Don’t try to listen to them. Just walk. Walk until you reach the sea. It won’t be far. Once you reach the shore you must walk North, so that the water is on your right. Walk and keep walking. It will be very far but you will not grow weary. If you hear voices to the left of you do not be afraid. There are creatures in the trees and behind the rocks that will mean you harm but as long as you stay on the shore, on the sand, you will be safe.” Tristan and Madeline were speaking at the same time, their voices mingling with one another to form a sort of music and Jonah listened, the sound filling him with peace and courage and goodness.

“When do I stop walking?” he asked.

“Listen and we will tell you,” they said to him. “As you walk through the night you will see a light ahead of you as if a great sun is rising to the North. The light will grow and grow and it will become brighter, but not bright like the day. It will be a reddish light. The light comes from a crystal, which is set in a great tree. This crystal’s light is the bad will of Jude, the red star. He is the rebel and the deceiver and is slowly killing those that live on his planet.”

As the stars told Jonah this, he saw a small red speck far, far in the distance, directly ahead of him. He knew that the speck was Jude and he began to be afraid for the first time since his journey began.

As if the stars knew what he was feeling they said, in unison, “Jonah, everything will be fine. You have a strength in you that you do not yet see.” And the fear in Jonah shrunk until it was merely a tiny thing in the back of the young boy’s mind.

The two stars went on: “The shore will take you up a large hill and the ground will begin to drop off to your right. The hill will become very steep and, once you reach the top, you will be at the edge of a cliff to your right, a forest to your left. There will be a tree in that forest that is so large it can be seen rising above all the other trees. You will see it from the cliff. It holds the crystal and that is where you must go next.”

Jonah watched as the red speck in the distance grew and grew while the stars spoke and filled him with their strength and direction. “When you reach the cliff Jonah, you must wait and make sure no voices can be heard. If there are no voices it means that it is safe to enter the forest. You must walk to the tree, find the crystal, and destroy it.”

“How do I destroy it?” Jonah asked, the red star had grown large in front of him and he was afraid that he was almost there.

“We cannot tell you that Jonah because we haven’t been told. You must trust that you will find a way. You are almost at your journey’s end Jonah and we must stop speaking. We have carried you far, through many eons and many ages, but now it is up to you.”

“Have courage,” Tristan said in his strong, sad voice.

“You have strength,” said Madeline in her sweet, musical voice.

And, with that said, they gave him one last push and he was flung, alone and spinning into Jude’s domain.

Some thoughts before part V....

I am a raven. Am I a raven? No. A hawk? No, too noble. A sparrow maybe. I don’t scavenge or hunt, I wander and hope to not be devoured. I hope to find somewhere safe to lay my head under my wings, folded back in peace. Peace is such a word. So hopeful. Unrealistic? A dark wind carries me to places I don’t want to be or places that I hoped would be different and I chase this idea of fulfillment, of love perhaps.
Or just peace.
I feel like that boy sometimes, whose bed carried him through space. Carried him into some strange and turbulent conflict. His future looked hopeful. It looked as though he were to play some noble part in the action of the cosmos. Maybe he will yet. Maybe that’s why the story was never finished. I don’t know how to write an ending to something that I am still in the midst of.
I know the ending I hope to see though. A happy one that ends in a sweet death which is really just the beginning to something even more beautiful. Are happy endings just hopeful creations by people who believe that there should be something better to this world, to this life? God, I hope not. At least I have comfort though. Some don’t even have that. The discomfort I feel at times is my own fault and I’m too self centered to see the bigger picture. That my life is easy because I have more good days than bad. That, and food on my plate every night.
It feels like the dark corners of the earth are sometimes growing towards each other. Or the darkness is growing outward so that it is no longer restricted to the corners, but the middle places as well.
I awoke one morning with a weight moving across my legs. It traveled up my body to hold to me to my bed, under my blankets. I struggled, but it felt as though I were struggling against my own body…struggling to free myself from the strange grip and utter some phrase that would free me. And then a warm breath spoke dark things into my ear, telling me that I would never make it out of this, that I would never be more than this. “Always remember that,” it said. God help me. Help me move, I thought to myself and slowly I was able to open my eyes and shake myself free.
How often are dark things whispered to me in my sleep? Things meant to destroy any sense of peace and hope that I hold. How often do I listen to them? What else is out there that I don’t see? Things that hold me and chain me to my darker thoughts and sinking feelings. How do I fight against them? What causes a child to watch helpless as dark figures enter his room and cover his face with their hands, or gives him nightmares of cities turning to ash and rubble as other men stare hatefully at each other?
I wish I were a sparrow...