Desire
A jealous master, it answers to none,
And determines direction and fate.
But whether its prize is disease or cure,
Is revealed after it’s too late.
The full light of day through a cloudless sky shocked his eyes closed and restrained him from moving forward. He reached back toward the door for support but it wasn’t there. He widened his stance for balance and dug his chin into his chest cupping his hands into a canopy over his eyes. He was standing in the center of a large grassy sloped plain. He strained his squinting eyes open and raised his head slowly to take in the mountain before him. Miles to his right rested a large body of water and the same distance to his left a forest prevailed. Behind him was a lifeless desert. In the midst of that desert was nestled a great city, and beyond the city was a chasm marking the end of the world.
The pressure increased around his feet and ankles as he began to sink into the earth. His first small step upward sunk into the soft ground. He pulled his back foot out of the muck with a pop. He placed his feet together hoping to pause a moment to think, but, as he hesitated, the ground began to consume him as before. A hasty step forward drew him off balance. He stepped sideways to catch himself, surprised to see the ground was not as soft. He took another step sideways for balance, and triggered a secondary force of gravity which established a sustained momentum. He eventually stopped himself, and began to sink again. He took a blind step back toward the desert below where the ground was firm, and, even though his step was cautiously small, he was forced to take several steps backward in the same direction.
Playfully aggressive laughter told him he was not alone. He lifted his eyes uphill toward a young lady moving swiftly downward with another young man following a few strides behind. He plucked his feet out of the soft ground and leaned to the side to avoid her. She had a single key around her neck while the boy who chased her had several as well as one he held in his fist. The coy young girl summoned him with a gaze. He reconsidered his choice to avoid the collision as she passed at a safe distance. The eyes of the young man that followed reflected a disturbed unquenchable hunger for dominance. He targeted the unsuspecting soul and changed his direction in an intentional attempt to ram him. As pleasant to him as the young girl’s eyes were, the young man’s countenance was alarming. With a slap and a thud of colliding flesh and bone the two young men met violently. The reckless attacker continued on after the girl while our newcomer rolled helplessly out of control toward the city in the sand. He eventually slowed himself down and made his way to his feet. He looked over his shoulder for another malicious attacker before taking a cautious step toward the city for fear of the ground softening beneath his feet from any other course.
In the desert ahead everything was moving. A multitude of souls made up one route that surveyed the outer parameter of the city. Travelers received consolation from all four views: the majesty of the mountain, the novelty of the lake, the serenity of the forest and the awesome wonder of the chasm. This choice assured the variety of seasons, and posed little risk to travelers who confined themselves to the approved boundaries of the collective. Within the main highway a network of roads evolved, fluctuating to the whim of each fickle participant. These more intimate circles intersected with at least one other, and all lacked posted signs for warning, information and direction. Void of originality, each individual course was by default duly ordered by the uncertain steps of the person ahead of them.
Souls walked toward the object of their curiosity. Boys and girls directed themselves toward each other but rarely directly at one another out of insecurity. Experienced men and women having been through one or more failed personal encounters kept a safe distance from everyone else by creating gender specific courses. Souls often developed convenient relationships with others within their traveling circle. Some of the more reckless natured pairs welcomed the temporary titillation of a collision even though it meant lingering pain afterward for at least one of the two. Perhaps they failed to ask if their partner was willing or able to alter their course. Perhaps they assumed that the other’s accumulated hope was less valuable than their own. When two paths intersect, the brief encounter must inevitably end as the subordinate desire of the relationship will always yield to the dominant desire, whatever it may be. In any case it seemed that those walking about had no apparent practical notion of where they were headed. It was simply organized chaos without the benefit of a real destination.
The young man approached the main desert highway. He knew he wasn't able to quickly alter his speed or direction. There was a growing concern on the faces of the people with whom he was likely to have an unwelcomed encounter. Those that were aware braced themselves. Everyone who walked the outer perimeter managed to avoid contact, but he wasn’t anticipated by those traveling in the center. He brushed into a person that set him slightly off balance and ran directly into a defenseless child who fell, but was soon righted by someone else. He bounced off someone much larger who intentionally pushed him into a spin. His momentum carried him onward through more unsuspecting travelers. Out of control, he was hit several more times while blurred visions of contemptuous expressions orbited around him.
He was moving too fast for someone who didn’t know what he wanted, and used no little effort and distance to slow himself down. He casually studied the souls of those nearest to himself hoping somehow to determine from their faces or direction if there was anything valuable worth seeking. It didn’t seem to him that anyone knew what they wanted. There were those who preferred to go toward the lake side of the city and some who preferred the forest side. There were souls unsuccessful in becoming the object of someone else’s desire, and others being pursued because they didn’t want to be followed. Every situation was unique, but with the same theme and pointless end.
His eyes caught the attention of a young woman attempting to break out of the main highway into one of the smaller adjoining circles. The decision to change her course forced her to adjust to the swifter pace of the new current which left her vulnerable and unstable. She was soon overcome and steadied by a more experienced man who amused himself by attempting to take a key from the chain around her neck. She succumbed to his advances and gave him the key freely and was afterward discarded like a spent toy spilling her inner spiritual substance which resembled steam and smelled of lilac and cinnamon. Her paralyzed body was cast about like leaves in a fierce wind. She was hit by another and another only to be groped by several unrelated young men. Each time she was passed, the appearance of her age changed significantly as her emotional maturity fluctuated from encounter to encounter. With each new hope of security, her initial relieved peaceful expression swiftly changed to despair as she was thrust away more violently than the time before. Those who grabbed her all appeared younger as they fed on the remnant of her vitality. Without the will to hold on any longer, she fell and began to sink where she was repeatedly kicked and trampled under a regiment of unaffected indifferent marching feet. The girl slowly disappeared into the dust without inspiring regret or leaving even a memory.
For the first time the young man knew what he didn’t want. He desired to never again see what he had just witnessed. He pondered how he could have interceded on behalf of the mistreated girl and went through the scenario in his mind, but there didn’t seem to be anything he could have done to protect her. And what’s to say he wouldn’t have behaved with the same ill manner as the other young men. “Maybe some of them did want to help at first but weren’t qualified and ended up escalating the problem. Who really knows?” He decided to move far from the center of the city where souls could be brought to behave in such a manner. He changed his direction toward the lake and immediately the ground began to soften beneath his feet. He increased his pace to keep up with the ground’s effect and noticed a girl who appeared to be about his age moving in the opposite direction.
Her focus never left the trees. They passed each other quickly, gently brushing arms. She had the same disheartened look on her face as he held within. He had never been touched like that before. He worked to suppress the memory, dismissing it as unimportant. He had been touched and hit and pushed violently by others several times. “It was nothing,” he tried to convince himself. “We brushed each others arms. So what.” Like a stubborn recurring dream, it invaded the forefront of his consciousness. He used his senses to overwhelm himself with his surroundings, but there was nothing that he could take in externally that would overshadow the distraction or pacify the new visitor that demanded all of his attention. The more he resisted, the more he was inclined to acknowledge its significance.
“What a persistent thought,” he thought and then corrected. “What an undisciplined mind.” Unable to shake himself free, he relented to the pressure of his desire’s hunger and allowed himself to feed on the image of the young girl and the instant that her skin met his. “Did she witness the same horrific event that I did,” he wondered, “or was she propelled in my direction by another? Does chance have meaning or do I give meaning chance?” He reconstructed the moment of the encounter from his memory and formed a virtual environment that he could control. His fantasy became as familiar to him as his reality. From that place he studied her eyes and mouth and the way her hair framed her delicate face. He brought himself closer and closer to her as he allowed his imagination to run its course. Distracted, he stumbled, and like a ghost from the light of day, his fantasy recoiled to its place among the less troublesome images cataloged in his mind. He shook his head and began to reason. “It’s unlikely our paths will cross again. Even if she had the same idea, there was no way of knowing if either of us has the stamina to trudge upward through the muck to the mountain’s peak.” Every step from then on was forbidding yet rich with purpose, motivated by something far from certain. It’s hard to gage whether momentum is maintained in order to bring someone closer to the object of its desire or farther away from its misfortune. If he was a fool, he was a fool with hope. Inspiration gained from even the impossible must certainly be more valuable than having no encouragement at all. But what were the options at hand? Turning completely around would take time and require a complete stop in the midst of others where the risk was greatest. He had no choice but to move through the city outward across the main highway toward the lake and then turn gradually upward to the mountain’s peak.
His eyes focused on the great chasm to his right. There were thousands playing the same game dangerously near the world’s end. Hundreds at a time flocked together like birds running parallel to the cliff and turning toward the drop off to see how close they could come to the edge. Most would turn with room to spare, but the winner would be the one who would be closer to the line that separated life and death than any other. There were cheers of delight when someone came close to the limit and a roar if someone actually succeeded in touching the border and survived. But for the bold thrill seeker who misjudged the distance or angle or speed and crossed the line and fell into the unknown, these unfortunate inevitabilities injected a different kind of entertainment for the rest. Horrified onlookers and screams of terror sparked exactly what was needed to keep the game alive and exciting for the survivors.
With the lake still a good distance in front of him, he assigned himself to one of the trails that led directly to the lake. Every so often another soul would pass him by. They were always cordial, assuming that everyone walking in their direction was likeminded and therefore accepted. As he was drawn closer to the lake, he was now able to see with clarity where the trail met the water. To his astonishment, those ahead of him weren’t veering away from the water but being pulled directly into the lake. There was no one swimming or struggling. They simply entered the water and were no more. It seemed from his perspective that they blindly accepted their fate and chose to exit this place. Whether they ceased to exist or ended up back in the hallway was not a wager he was willing to place. Unlike the others on this route, he wasn’t merely trying to remove himself from the city. His dominant desire was to have another brush with one specific soul and no other.
A short quick stride compensated for the softness of the ground between the desert and the lake. The pull of the lake was becoming stronger the farther he moved away from the heart of the city. He willed himself to change direction but was pulled a great distance further before being able to step even slightly off the trail. He was becoming afraid that he wouldn’t be able to change his direction before he reached the water’s edge. Slowing down seemed to give way to the force of the lake, and pulled him back onto the trail against his will. He remembered back to the young man that attacked him when he first entered this place. “He changed direction just before he hit me,” he recalled. “He was heading downhill, but maybe the direction had nothing to do with it. The physical and the spiritual are polar opposites,” he reminded himself. “If slowing down gives more power to the object of the desire, then speeding up will take it away.” He accelerated with no time to lose. He past one soul and then another while he continued to accelerate faster and faster. A collision now would be disastrous. He yelled out a warning terrorizing those ahead into releasing themselves from their stagnant routine. His chest pounded. He gasped for air and fought the cramp in the inner flesh of his ribs, setting his hope for a single encounter based on the fragment of a memory of a girl he glorified, which enabled another stride and breath and sustained him through the pain.
He banked toward the mountain and began to turn, slowly at first then gradually increasing. He would need to maintain this strenuous pace if he wanted to clear the water. The erg to quit and the reward of relief battled to overpower his hope. Life or death; to exist or to perish; hung in the scale equally balanced. Doubt grew quickly as he couldn’t be certain that his strength would endure. It was apparent now that he would need to turn further to clear the water, but he couldn’t run any faster. He leaned slightly more toward the mountain but his feet began to slip. He corrected his balance and gave himself no other option. He far exceeded what he thought himself capable of accomplishing, yet his path would send him at least fifty feet into the lake. He debated what he would do when his feet hit the water. Would he be able to sustain himself or would the unique nature of this place suck him downward once the water reduced his speed? There was no energy left for another physical trial. He continued to run in spite of the impending failure. He reached the shoreline. His feet slapped the water as he moved farther over the surface of the lake. To his amazement, the water was a façade; an illusion designed to entice discontented souls with an empty promise. What sustained him appeared to be water but consisted of the same physical properties as the land. He couldn’t find the breath to shout for joy or even muster the will to alter the expression of his face to reflect his relief. He continued to press forward over the water and then back to the land where he allowed himself to relax. All the while encouraging himself, despite his pounding head, legs and chest, that he chose life, thankful for the hope imbedded in a special memory brought to life by the touch of a young girl who couldn’t possibly have known how deeply she impacted his destiny.
There were several groups above him traveling together attempting to scale the mountain. Some groups traversed around the mountain gradually gaining altitude, but the slight elevation they achieved wasn’t worth the effort. Many of the members left their company deciding either to scale together at a steeper incline or turn back toward the desert. There was an assembly that attempted to go directly toward the peak. This laborious task took its toll on many souls who weren’t strong enough for the trial. There were groups that pushed their leaders, and leaders that pulled their followers, but all in vein, for even the peak, though it held the highest perspective, was not a permanent destination.
He recognized her from a good distance away. It was very clear their paths would intentionally intersect. They each had time to study each other’s gait and attitude and countenance. Neither altered their course. There was nothing hidden. They each slowed down as much as possible giving themselves time to anticipate the inevitable. Tension, excitement and longing grew wildly in their hearts as they took each focused step toward one another. Nothing else seemed to exist. Every precious moment suspended time, while each physical step forward required it to resume. They fed off each other’s hope filled expression and their own fevered anticipation. Raw unbridled growing passion thrilled and enthralled the two united souls. They were steps away from reaching the pinnacle, one from his direction and the other from hers. They both knew they had only a moment to be together. From a slight distance away the young man spoke.
“I was hoping there would be somewhere we could go to together.” He said timidly.
“This is the only place I want to be.” She replied honestly.
Their bodies met. She laid her hands on his chest and let her fingers lead her arms around his torso. Pulling herself closer, she placed her head in the gape of his neck. His arms found their home covering her as the gravity of their mutual desire pulled them closer and gave the illusion that they were one body. He noticed everything at once: her softness, shape and warmth; her strength and her fear; her excitement and her joy, and his own peace while he trembled, to the scent of vanilla in her hair.
She had stopped a moment sooner than he did, so the ground softened beneath her first. She began to slip through his arms. He held on tightly as the ground now began to soften beneath him. He pulled his feet out of the muck as her arms slipped farther down to his waist. He lowered a knee to the ground and put his arm under hers and around her back, but he had no leverage.
“It’s all right.” She said calmly.
“I shouldn’t have let go.” He said over and over again.
He held one of her hands while her other grasped his forearm. His other hand was deep in the mud pushing downward to steal another instant. Their eyes locked, tears streaming.
“Why aren’t you fighting? Don’t you…”
“More than anything.” She said softly with a smile. “I’m afraid,” she admitted finally, then disappeared.
He scrambled in the mud and strained to stay connected to her. Maintaining hold of her wrist deep under the ground, he felt her put something in his hand. He lost his grip and fell backward. Panic and adrenaline brought him to his feet. Completely covered in mud from his neck down, he slid backward and forward as his passion gave way to increased desperation and fury. Never taking his eyes off the spot where she disappeared, he stepped quickly downward, then stopped and began back again. His hands and feet slid, but relentlessly continued to claw their way back. He found strength where there was none and dove headfirst into the very ground where she had been mercilessly swallowed.
In the blackness deep under the earth, the force of two strong large hands took hold of his arms and pulled him through the smooth cold wet clay. In the moments that followed, he second guessed every choice he had made that had led him to end up empty-handed and alone. He wished only to exit the door of desire and to never enter it again. Then the hands released his arms. The clay dried and hardened around him. He turned his head and the brittle earth cracked and fell off his body leaving him with his wish granted as he beheld the exit. He opened the door deliberately, controlling and protecting himself from his own bare emotion.
Back in the hallway he looked at the key the girl had given him. It was the key to the door of faith. He grasped the key of desire and pulled it from his neck and threw it inside its own door. He slammed the door shut and stood as the echo resonated, pulsating up and down the hallway. He closed his eyes tightly and stood motionless. Then his mouth began to twitch, and his head slowly rocked back and forth. Finally, he pressed the palms of his hands into his cheeks and fell to his knees. He sat at the feet of Nina and Braden and began to sob uncontrollably. He was unwilling to open his eyes. Perhaps he didn’t want to look at his own reflection to see how much he had aged. Perhaps he didn’t want another image to distract him from the memory that was already fading. They sat with him for a long while.
A jealous master, it answers to none,
And determines direction and fate.
But whether its prize is disease or cure,
Is revealed after it’s too late.
The full light of day through a cloudless sky shocked his eyes closed and restrained him from moving forward. He reached back toward the door for support but it wasn’t there. He widened his stance for balance and dug his chin into his chest cupping his hands into a canopy over his eyes. He was standing in the center of a large grassy sloped plain. He strained his squinting eyes open and raised his head slowly to take in the mountain before him. Miles to his right rested a large body of water and the same distance to his left a forest prevailed. Behind him was a lifeless desert. In the midst of that desert was nestled a great city, and beyond the city was a chasm marking the end of the world.
The pressure increased around his feet and ankles as he began to sink into the earth. His first small step upward sunk into the soft ground. He pulled his back foot out of the muck with a pop. He placed his feet together hoping to pause a moment to think, but, as he hesitated, the ground began to consume him as before. A hasty step forward drew him off balance. He stepped sideways to catch himself, surprised to see the ground was not as soft. He took another step sideways for balance, and triggered a secondary force of gravity which established a sustained momentum. He eventually stopped himself, and began to sink again. He took a blind step back toward the desert below where the ground was firm, and, even though his step was cautiously small, he was forced to take several steps backward in the same direction.
Playfully aggressive laughter told him he was not alone. He lifted his eyes uphill toward a young lady moving swiftly downward with another young man following a few strides behind. He plucked his feet out of the soft ground and leaned to the side to avoid her. She had a single key around her neck while the boy who chased her had several as well as one he held in his fist. The coy young girl summoned him with a gaze. He reconsidered his choice to avoid the collision as she passed at a safe distance. The eyes of the young man that followed reflected a disturbed unquenchable hunger for dominance. He targeted the unsuspecting soul and changed his direction in an intentional attempt to ram him. As pleasant to him as the young girl’s eyes were, the young man’s countenance was alarming. With a slap and a thud of colliding flesh and bone the two young men met violently. The reckless attacker continued on after the girl while our newcomer rolled helplessly out of control toward the city in the sand. He eventually slowed himself down and made his way to his feet. He looked over his shoulder for another malicious attacker before taking a cautious step toward the city for fear of the ground softening beneath his feet from any other course.
In the desert ahead everything was moving. A multitude of souls made up one route that surveyed the outer parameter of the city. Travelers received consolation from all four views: the majesty of the mountain, the novelty of the lake, the serenity of the forest and the awesome wonder of the chasm. This choice assured the variety of seasons, and posed little risk to travelers who confined themselves to the approved boundaries of the collective. Within the main highway a network of roads evolved, fluctuating to the whim of each fickle participant. These more intimate circles intersected with at least one other, and all lacked posted signs for warning, information and direction. Void of originality, each individual course was by default duly ordered by the uncertain steps of the person ahead of them.
Souls walked toward the object of their curiosity. Boys and girls directed themselves toward each other but rarely directly at one another out of insecurity. Experienced men and women having been through one or more failed personal encounters kept a safe distance from everyone else by creating gender specific courses. Souls often developed convenient relationships with others within their traveling circle. Some of the more reckless natured pairs welcomed the temporary titillation of a collision even though it meant lingering pain afterward for at least one of the two. Perhaps they failed to ask if their partner was willing or able to alter their course. Perhaps they assumed that the other’s accumulated hope was less valuable than their own. When two paths intersect, the brief encounter must inevitably end as the subordinate desire of the relationship will always yield to the dominant desire, whatever it may be. In any case it seemed that those walking about had no apparent practical notion of where they were headed. It was simply organized chaos without the benefit of a real destination.
The young man approached the main desert highway. He knew he wasn't able to quickly alter his speed or direction. There was a growing concern on the faces of the people with whom he was likely to have an unwelcomed encounter. Those that were aware braced themselves. Everyone who walked the outer perimeter managed to avoid contact, but he wasn’t anticipated by those traveling in the center. He brushed into a person that set him slightly off balance and ran directly into a defenseless child who fell, but was soon righted by someone else. He bounced off someone much larger who intentionally pushed him into a spin. His momentum carried him onward through more unsuspecting travelers. Out of control, he was hit several more times while blurred visions of contemptuous expressions orbited around him.
He was moving too fast for someone who didn’t know what he wanted, and used no little effort and distance to slow himself down. He casually studied the souls of those nearest to himself hoping somehow to determine from their faces or direction if there was anything valuable worth seeking. It didn’t seem to him that anyone knew what they wanted. There were those who preferred to go toward the lake side of the city and some who preferred the forest side. There were souls unsuccessful in becoming the object of someone else’s desire, and others being pursued because they didn’t want to be followed. Every situation was unique, but with the same theme and pointless end.
His eyes caught the attention of a young woman attempting to break out of the main highway into one of the smaller adjoining circles. The decision to change her course forced her to adjust to the swifter pace of the new current which left her vulnerable and unstable. She was soon overcome and steadied by a more experienced man who amused himself by attempting to take a key from the chain around her neck. She succumbed to his advances and gave him the key freely and was afterward discarded like a spent toy spilling her inner spiritual substance which resembled steam and smelled of lilac and cinnamon. Her paralyzed body was cast about like leaves in a fierce wind. She was hit by another and another only to be groped by several unrelated young men. Each time she was passed, the appearance of her age changed significantly as her emotional maturity fluctuated from encounter to encounter. With each new hope of security, her initial relieved peaceful expression swiftly changed to despair as she was thrust away more violently than the time before. Those who grabbed her all appeared younger as they fed on the remnant of her vitality. Without the will to hold on any longer, she fell and began to sink where she was repeatedly kicked and trampled under a regiment of unaffected indifferent marching feet. The girl slowly disappeared into the dust without inspiring regret or leaving even a memory.
For the first time the young man knew what he didn’t want. He desired to never again see what he had just witnessed. He pondered how he could have interceded on behalf of the mistreated girl and went through the scenario in his mind, but there didn’t seem to be anything he could have done to protect her. And what’s to say he wouldn’t have behaved with the same ill manner as the other young men. “Maybe some of them did want to help at first but weren’t qualified and ended up escalating the problem. Who really knows?” He decided to move far from the center of the city where souls could be brought to behave in such a manner. He changed his direction toward the lake and immediately the ground began to soften beneath his feet. He increased his pace to keep up with the ground’s effect and noticed a girl who appeared to be about his age moving in the opposite direction.
Her focus never left the trees. They passed each other quickly, gently brushing arms. She had the same disheartened look on her face as he held within. He had never been touched like that before. He worked to suppress the memory, dismissing it as unimportant. He had been touched and hit and pushed violently by others several times. “It was nothing,” he tried to convince himself. “We brushed each others arms. So what.” Like a stubborn recurring dream, it invaded the forefront of his consciousness. He used his senses to overwhelm himself with his surroundings, but there was nothing that he could take in externally that would overshadow the distraction or pacify the new visitor that demanded all of his attention. The more he resisted, the more he was inclined to acknowledge its significance.
“What a persistent thought,” he thought and then corrected. “What an undisciplined mind.” Unable to shake himself free, he relented to the pressure of his desire’s hunger and allowed himself to feed on the image of the young girl and the instant that her skin met his. “Did she witness the same horrific event that I did,” he wondered, “or was she propelled in my direction by another? Does chance have meaning or do I give meaning chance?” He reconstructed the moment of the encounter from his memory and formed a virtual environment that he could control. His fantasy became as familiar to him as his reality. From that place he studied her eyes and mouth and the way her hair framed her delicate face. He brought himself closer and closer to her as he allowed his imagination to run its course. Distracted, he stumbled, and like a ghost from the light of day, his fantasy recoiled to its place among the less troublesome images cataloged in his mind. He shook his head and began to reason. “It’s unlikely our paths will cross again. Even if she had the same idea, there was no way of knowing if either of us has the stamina to trudge upward through the muck to the mountain’s peak.” Every step from then on was forbidding yet rich with purpose, motivated by something far from certain. It’s hard to gage whether momentum is maintained in order to bring someone closer to the object of its desire or farther away from its misfortune. If he was a fool, he was a fool with hope. Inspiration gained from even the impossible must certainly be more valuable than having no encouragement at all. But what were the options at hand? Turning completely around would take time and require a complete stop in the midst of others where the risk was greatest. He had no choice but to move through the city outward across the main highway toward the lake and then turn gradually upward to the mountain’s peak.
His eyes focused on the great chasm to his right. There were thousands playing the same game dangerously near the world’s end. Hundreds at a time flocked together like birds running parallel to the cliff and turning toward the drop off to see how close they could come to the edge. Most would turn with room to spare, but the winner would be the one who would be closer to the line that separated life and death than any other. There were cheers of delight when someone came close to the limit and a roar if someone actually succeeded in touching the border and survived. But for the bold thrill seeker who misjudged the distance or angle or speed and crossed the line and fell into the unknown, these unfortunate inevitabilities injected a different kind of entertainment for the rest. Horrified onlookers and screams of terror sparked exactly what was needed to keep the game alive and exciting for the survivors.
With the lake still a good distance in front of him, he assigned himself to one of the trails that led directly to the lake. Every so often another soul would pass him by. They were always cordial, assuming that everyone walking in their direction was likeminded and therefore accepted. As he was drawn closer to the lake, he was now able to see with clarity where the trail met the water. To his astonishment, those ahead of him weren’t veering away from the water but being pulled directly into the lake. There was no one swimming or struggling. They simply entered the water and were no more. It seemed from his perspective that they blindly accepted their fate and chose to exit this place. Whether they ceased to exist or ended up back in the hallway was not a wager he was willing to place. Unlike the others on this route, he wasn’t merely trying to remove himself from the city. His dominant desire was to have another brush with one specific soul and no other.
A short quick stride compensated for the softness of the ground between the desert and the lake. The pull of the lake was becoming stronger the farther he moved away from the heart of the city. He willed himself to change direction but was pulled a great distance further before being able to step even slightly off the trail. He was becoming afraid that he wouldn’t be able to change his direction before he reached the water’s edge. Slowing down seemed to give way to the force of the lake, and pulled him back onto the trail against his will. He remembered back to the young man that attacked him when he first entered this place. “He changed direction just before he hit me,” he recalled. “He was heading downhill, but maybe the direction had nothing to do with it. The physical and the spiritual are polar opposites,” he reminded himself. “If slowing down gives more power to the object of the desire, then speeding up will take it away.” He accelerated with no time to lose. He past one soul and then another while he continued to accelerate faster and faster. A collision now would be disastrous. He yelled out a warning terrorizing those ahead into releasing themselves from their stagnant routine. His chest pounded. He gasped for air and fought the cramp in the inner flesh of his ribs, setting his hope for a single encounter based on the fragment of a memory of a girl he glorified, which enabled another stride and breath and sustained him through the pain.
He banked toward the mountain and began to turn, slowly at first then gradually increasing. He would need to maintain this strenuous pace if he wanted to clear the water. The erg to quit and the reward of relief battled to overpower his hope. Life or death; to exist or to perish; hung in the scale equally balanced. Doubt grew quickly as he couldn’t be certain that his strength would endure. It was apparent now that he would need to turn further to clear the water, but he couldn’t run any faster. He leaned slightly more toward the mountain but his feet began to slip. He corrected his balance and gave himself no other option. He far exceeded what he thought himself capable of accomplishing, yet his path would send him at least fifty feet into the lake. He debated what he would do when his feet hit the water. Would he be able to sustain himself or would the unique nature of this place suck him downward once the water reduced his speed? There was no energy left for another physical trial. He continued to run in spite of the impending failure. He reached the shoreline. His feet slapped the water as he moved farther over the surface of the lake. To his amazement, the water was a façade; an illusion designed to entice discontented souls with an empty promise. What sustained him appeared to be water but consisted of the same physical properties as the land. He couldn’t find the breath to shout for joy or even muster the will to alter the expression of his face to reflect his relief. He continued to press forward over the water and then back to the land where he allowed himself to relax. All the while encouraging himself, despite his pounding head, legs and chest, that he chose life, thankful for the hope imbedded in a special memory brought to life by the touch of a young girl who couldn’t possibly have known how deeply she impacted his destiny.
There were several groups above him traveling together attempting to scale the mountain. Some groups traversed around the mountain gradually gaining altitude, but the slight elevation they achieved wasn’t worth the effort. Many of the members left their company deciding either to scale together at a steeper incline or turn back toward the desert. There was an assembly that attempted to go directly toward the peak. This laborious task took its toll on many souls who weren’t strong enough for the trial. There were groups that pushed their leaders, and leaders that pulled their followers, but all in vein, for even the peak, though it held the highest perspective, was not a permanent destination.
He recognized her from a good distance away. It was very clear their paths would intentionally intersect. They each had time to study each other’s gait and attitude and countenance. Neither altered their course. There was nothing hidden. They each slowed down as much as possible giving themselves time to anticipate the inevitable. Tension, excitement and longing grew wildly in their hearts as they took each focused step toward one another. Nothing else seemed to exist. Every precious moment suspended time, while each physical step forward required it to resume. They fed off each other’s hope filled expression and their own fevered anticipation. Raw unbridled growing passion thrilled and enthralled the two united souls. They were steps away from reaching the pinnacle, one from his direction and the other from hers. They both knew they had only a moment to be together. From a slight distance away the young man spoke.
“I was hoping there would be somewhere we could go to together.” He said timidly.
“This is the only place I want to be.” She replied honestly.
Their bodies met. She laid her hands on his chest and let her fingers lead her arms around his torso. Pulling herself closer, she placed her head in the gape of his neck. His arms found their home covering her as the gravity of their mutual desire pulled them closer and gave the illusion that they were one body. He noticed everything at once: her softness, shape and warmth; her strength and her fear; her excitement and her joy, and his own peace while he trembled, to the scent of vanilla in her hair.
She had stopped a moment sooner than he did, so the ground softened beneath her first. She began to slip through his arms. He held on tightly as the ground now began to soften beneath him. He pulled his feet out of the muck as her arms slipped farther down to his waist. He lowered a knee to the ground and put his arm under hers and around her back, but he had no leverage.
“It’s all right.” She said calmly.
“I shouldn’t have let go.” He said over and over again.
He held one of her hands while her other grasped his forearm. His other hand was deep in the mud pushing downward to steal another instant. Their eyes locked, tears streaming.
“Why aren’t you fighting? Don’t you…”
“More than anything.” She said softly with a smile. “I’m afraid,” she admitted finally, then disappeared.
He scrambled in the mud and strained to stay connected to her. Maintaining hold of her wrist deep under the ground, he felt her put something in his hand. He lost his grip and fell backward. Panic and adrenaline brought him to his feet. Completely covered in mud from his neck down, he slid backward and forward as his passion gave way to increased desperation and fury. Never taking his eyes off the spot where she disappeared, he stepped quickly downward, then stopped and began back again. His hands and feet slid, but relentlessly continued to claw their way back. He found strength where there was none and dove headfirst into the very ground where she had been mercilessly swallowed.
In the blackness deep under the earth, the force of two strong large hands took hold of his arms and pulled him through the smooth cold wet clay. In the moments that followed, he second guessed every choice he had made that had led him to end up empty-handed and alone. He wished only to exit the door of desire and to never enter it again. Then the hands released his arms. The clay dried and hardened around him. He turned his head and the brittle earth cracked and fell off his body leaving him with his wish granted as he beheld the exit. He opened the door deliberately, controlling and protecting himself from his own bare emotion.
Back in the hallway he looked at the key the girl had given him. It was the key to the door of faith. He grasped the key of desire and pulled it from his neck and threw it inside its own door. He slammed the door shut and stood as the echo resonated, pulsating up and down the hallway. He closed his eyes tightly and stood motionless. Then his mouth began to twitch, and his head slowly rocked back and forth. Finally, he pressed the palms of his hands into his cheeks and fell to his knees. He sat at the feet of Nina and Braden and began to sob uncontrollably. He was unwilling to open his eyes. Perhaps he didn’t want to look at his own reflection to see how much he had aged. Perhaps he didn’t want another image to distract him from the memory that was already fading. They sat with him for a long while.
