The Celestial Gate

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The Celestial Gate Page 22

by Avital Dicker


  Not far off, among the jungle trees, Mor felt his body. He was happy to realize his arms and legs were in place, but he still couldn’t see them. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and posed for a selfie. To his horror, he saw that his head was the only part of his body showing in the picture. All the rest of him was gone. Buffeted by emotions, he remained seated on the rock. Obviously, he couldn’t go back to the beach looking like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. Frustrated, he tried kicking a stone, but it lifted in the air before his toes could connect with it.

  You can’t even kick a pebble here, he thought angrily. Suddenly, he heard a shout, closely followed by the sound of many rapid footsteps and whistles. Mor recognized Yam’s voice: he sounded scared. Mor decided to drop the matter of his invisible body for now and moved toward the sounds, going back to where he’d last seen his friend. Several yards away, he saw Yam’s abandoned backpack under a tree.

  Yam screamed again. Mor thought the sound was coming from the treetop and wondered if his invisibility wasn’t a sudden blessing in disguise.

  A group of apes was playing in the treetop. Mor looked at them in fear: the smallest was at least twice his own size. From below, he couldn’t see exactly what was happening among the entwined branches. Looking around for good vantage point, he selected a small but very full tree located a safe distance from the apes, though close enough to let him observe. He began climbing. He’d almost reached the top when Yam screamed a third time. The terror in his voice made Mor shiver. One of the apes shook Yam with ease and tossed him forward. Mor stopped breathing. Two mocking apes on one of the lower branches caught Yam at the last second and shrieked with pleasure. Mor exhaled, grateful for the fruit he’d eaten. What Yam was experiencing didn’t look fun at all. He took out a rope, tied himself to the trunk, and carefully started climbing toward the treetop.

  The bogo chased a half-black, half-white swan, trampling the sand-castle Rae had just finished building. Anise paced along the shore, needing some alone time. So many bad things had happened over the last few days that even now, here, in this wondrous place, walking barefoot on the warm, white sand, everything seemed like a dream.

  She looked at the two suns in the sky. One almost touched the water, while half of the other was already below the waves, each casting light in different colors. The view was heart-stopping.

  Anise walked along the waterline, enjoying the sensation of the cool water on her feet. She knelt to pick up a turquoise seashell, putting it in her pocket as a souvenir, and sat down to watch the rest of the sunset. To her astonishment, through the waves breaking on the shore in white foam, she thought she saw an old Native American. His face was deeply furrowed and his long white hair was braided with colorful threads. He looked straight at her, and in his eyes, Anise could see all of history since the beginning of time. Just then, Rae called her name. Anise turned her head away for just an instant, but when she looked back at the sea, the old man was no longer there. Anise decided she’d either imagined the old man’s presence or been daydreaming.

  Mor selected a thick branch and carefully scooted down its length. The enormous ape continued to shake Yam wildly as if he were nothing but a feather. With a loud shriek, a vulture swooped down from the sky, causing the apes to yell and let go of Yam as they scattered in fear.

  Yam started to fall. “Grab a branch!” Mor yelled at him, heaving a sigh of relief when he saw one of Yam’s legs catch in the thick vegetation several feet below. The fall was stopped, but Yam was suspended by one leg, swaying back and forth, his head pointing straight down.

  The branch Mor was crawling on groaned under his weight, but Mor ignored the sound, intent on reaching the end. “Catch,” he yelled to Mor while throwing him the end of the rope.

  Yam tried to swing his body and catch the rope, but his movement caused his leg to start sliding out of the thicket. Mor quickly pulled the rope back, took better aim, and quickly threw it to Yam again. Just then, a sound like a detonation was heard as his own branch broke. Concentrating his effort, Mor managed to pull himself upward.

  Mor wouldn’t give up. Now he moved swiftly from one branch to another, trying to get as close as possible to the upside-down Yam. “We don’t have a lot of time! Your branch won’t hold,” Mor yelled to his friend. “You have to untangle your leg.”

  He tied the rope around Yam. “I’m holding you,” he said in the calmest voice he could summon. Yam, confused, looked at Mor, reminding Mor that his body had vanished and that Yam could only see his head. “I’ll explain later,” he yelled with his last bit of strength.

  Yanking his leg out of the tree, Yam tumbled several feet downwards, until he was stopped by the rope. Now all of Yam’s weight was on Mor, whose hand grew red with the effort to continue holding the rope. The branch he was on began bowing, Mor lost his balance, and both boys started to fall.

  Fortunately for them, the branches were so overgrown that their rapid fall was stopped. Instead of thumping to the ground, they slowly slid from branch to branch, only to be caught by the growth again. Mor managed to tie the rope to the trunk and, with its help, pulled Yam upwards.

  Yam sat down next to Mor on the sturdy branch. His hair was full of leaves and he was breathing heavily. “Am I hallucinating, or am I seeing only your face?” was Yam’s first question after he’d managed to still his breath enough to speak.

  “It’s all because of some fruit I ate,” Mor smiled.

  “You saved my life,” said Yam, totally seriously. “Thanks, dude.”

  Both boys lapsed into silence, which Mor finally broke. “You know that she’s going to have to choose between us sooner or later, but that doesn’t have to mess up our friendship.”

  Yam nodded. He knew that, regardless of Anise, Mor was the best friend he’d ever had. He felt around in the air until his hand touched Mor’s shoulder, which he clapped. “Obviously,” he said, “assuming that at some point I’m going to be able to see you.”

  “Hey, where’s the rest of your body?” Anise asked, frightened by Mor’s head that seemed to be floating toward her through the air.

  Rae rolled with laughter. “You look ridiculous!” she giggled. Mor chased her, but Rae evaded him with ease. “And, don’t worry, the effect wears off after a few days.”

  Mor finally pinned her down. “How many days?” he demanded, his hand on her neck.

  “I don’t know. It depends on how much you ate.” Her pride injured, she rubbed her neck.

  “If you were going to have anything at all, maybe you should have eaten of the tree of knowledge of good and evil,” said Anise, laughing.

  By now it was getting dark. For a change, Yam and Mor agreed on something: it was too dangerous to enter the jungle and it was best to spend the night here, on the beach. The group picked a relatively sheltered spot near the trees, between the shore and the forest. Mor built a small bonfire, and Yam took the mushrooms out of his pack.

  “No! Don’t touch them!” Enochio shouted in fright.

  “But we’re hungry,” said Yam.

  Enochio sighed and grumbled as usual. Nonetheless, he clapped his hands and, before everyone’s astonished eyes, a plate appeared in the air and slowly settled onto Yam’s knees. He stared gratefully at the plate, heaped with chicken cutlets and a huge pile of mashed potatoes.

  “I may not be very good at flying but I’m still an angel,” Enochio smiled.

  More plates came their way: pasta and tomato sauce for Anise and a large cheeseburger with fries for Mor.

  “What about me?” asked Rae, a little put out.

  Enochio looked at her with reprimanding eyes. “You need to start eating healthier food.” Even so, a plate of chocolate cake landed on Rae’s knees just a moment later. The bogo wagged both his tails with excitement, his head buried deep in a pot full of meatballs.

  “See? I can still control a thing or two,” said the angel with satis
faction, loudly slurping his bowl of soup.

  Yam proceeded to talk about the enormous apes. When he got to Mor saving him, Anise looked at Mor with gleaming eyes. Mor tried to look impassive but was enjoying every moment of her admiration. Then, Enochio, his mood clearly improved by the food, started to talk about the mushrooms.

  “One bite of the purple mushroom inflates you so much that you blow up and bits of you scatter every which way. The red one with the stripes shrinks you. Every mushroom has its own effect, and even I don’t know all of them,” he explained.

  “Tell me,” asked Yam of the angel, “what’s with the Royal Guards?”

  Enochio grew serious. “It’s complicated,” he sighed. “The Orphils are those who didn’t become angels. They’re sort of stuck in the middle, so God put them in charge of order and making sure the system operates as it should.”

  “Is there really a course for angels?” Anise laughed.

  Enochio ignored her teasing. “Something like that. There’s a whole selection process and many drop out on the way. Being an angel is no simple matter.”

  Yam managed not to laugh out loud. “So how did you pass?” he challenged the chubby Enochio.

  “It’s not funny,” he answered, his face looking sad. “I’m no longer sure I can protect you. Look, the law prohibits the Orphils from using their wings and they always have to obey angels. But something seems to have gone wrong. Something’s changed because they came close to attacking me on the way here. And, from the little I saw, they’ve stopped obeying the rules altogether. Oh, and one of the traits that kept the Orphils from the next stage of the course is cruelty. They must learn how to control it as part of their process of self-improvement.”

  This time, nobody laughed. Enochio, though, clapped his hands once again, providing everyone with a dessert of warm chocolate soufflé with ice cream and strawberries with cream.

  “The Orphils are one reason that, first thing tomorrow morning, I’m taking you back home,” said the angel, putting another heaping spoon of cream into his mouth.

  “Wait a minute,” Anise protested, “we’re not going anywhere. In case you didn’t notice, we came here to see God. And we haven’t done that yet. The world down there is in truly awful shape.”

  “Listen, my dear miss, none of that is my fault. I’m only a cog in the wheel,” said Enochio, finishing off another helping of soufflé. “In any case, believe me, not everything is peachy keen here either,” he grumbled. “Do you know how long I’ve been asking for a transfer?!”

  Anise was having none of it. “I don’t care. I’m not going back down before I talk with God.”

  “Enochio,” Mor tried, “do you remember the first time someone went through the gate?”

  Enochio thought long and hard. “That was all so long ago. Some ancient tribe. I think they were called Inca or Maya. Something like that,” he finally answered, his mouth full of chocolate.

  “I knew the legend is real! They really did find the gate,” Yam jumped up. Enochio nodded and grabbed another platter of whipped cream out of the air. “Listen, Enochio, I’m absolutely convinced there’s a reason we’re here,” Yam insisted. “The gate didn’t come to us for no good reason.”

  But Enochio wasn’t listening. He grabbed at his ample belly and moaned, “I don’t feel so good,” then hurried off to the side to vomit.

  “He never knows when to stop with the whipped cream,” Rae laughed.

  “I don’t intend to go back down until I have some answers,” Anise muttered darkly.

  “Me neither,” said Mor, looking at a pale Enochio who had returned to the group only to fling himself down and fall asleep.

  “It’s just as scary down there. As long as we’re here, we might as well try to do something about it,” Yam whispered. Anise looked at him, appreciation glittering in her eyes.

  Chapter 28

  Sual pointed at the gate filled with rocks. “There it is,” she whispered.

  The street was quiet, except for an occasional shot. Theo, amazed, held his breath. Yoav’s painting was an exact copy of the sad, hopeless gate in front of them.

  “He really nailed the despair and neglect,” said Theo to Amalia. “He’s talented, your husband.”

  She smiled in return. “Yes. Crazy, but definitely talented.”

  Sual abandoned all the rules of safety and started running to the gate. “Anise! Mor!” she sobbed into the dark. Amalia hurried to put her hand across Sual’s mouth.

  “Have you lost your mind? They’ll hear us,” she whispered sternly.

  A bullet whizzed past Theo’s head, and all three froze.

  “Do not turn around!” The command was shouted in Arabic, and someone grabbed Sual’s arms and cuffed them behind her back. Amalia, who did try to turn, was hit with the stock of a gun. She fell to the ground, Sual choking back a scream at the sight of her friend’s blood. Theo felt hands patting him down. Somebody relieved him of his gun, took his wallet out of his back pocket, and cuffed his hands too.

  Now they heard whispers behind their backs. Finally, someone spoke out loud. “Turn around!” This time, the command was in Hebrew.

  All three turned to see three men, their faces covered in black balaclavas, pointing rifles at them.

  Amalia got up, rubbing the cut on her cheek. “Did you really have to hit me?” she asked. To a confused Theo and Sual, she said, “They’re from a special army unit. Once upon a time, I was a member of this unit too.”

  “Is this the Italian ambassador?” asked one of the three, pointing his rifle at Theo.

  “Consul,” Theo corrected him.

  “Please listen to me. We’re looking for our children. We can explain everything, but you have to let us go,” Amalia said to the soldiers.

  After a short consultation with someone on his walkie-talkie, he said, “Sorry, but we can’t do that. Our orders are to bring you back to base.”

  “Listen. I’m the Italian consul and I demand that you removed my handcuffs,” said Theo, projecting all the authority he could muster into his voice.

  “I’m very sorry, sir, but I cannot. An order is an order,” said the officer. “We can’t uncuff you until we get to the base.”

  There was no point in arguing. Together with the soldiers, they trudged through the Valley of the Cross to the Hebrew University. By the time they entered the hastily erected provisional base on the university campus, it was five in the morning. One of the men finally freed their hands. “I’m sorry about hitting you,” he told Amalia. “We had no way of knowing who you were. There are so many terrorist groups around and everybody looks the same.” He walked them into a lecture hall. “Please, make yourselves at home. The commander will be with you in just a few minutes.” The solider left, locking the door behind him.

  Theo rubbed his chafed wrists, while Amalia fingered the injury to her face. She could feel her cheek swelling. It’s probably better I don’t look in the mirror in the next few days, she thought, then looked out the window.

  The entrance plaza was full of soldiers. How ironic, Amalia thought, to erect an army base at the heart of the symbol of freedom of expression and thought.

  She looked at the action outside. Some of the soldiers were loading equipment on trucks, while others were getting ready to leave. “They’re not going to let us go so fast,” she said.

  Out of habit, Theo checked his cell phone. “You’re not going to believe it, but there’s reception here,” he said just as the door opened and a brigadier general walked in.

  Chapter 29

  Just before sunrise, Anise woke Rae, who lay curled up in a ball on the beach. She signaled the creature to stay quiet. Yam and Mor were already up. However, Enochio, sprawled on his back, was snoring loudly, still deep asleep.

  Mor stroked the white mare. “Too bad you can’t come,” he whispered in her ear. The mare licked his face wit
h her raspy tongue, showing her affection. Mor knew the horses would make it hard for them to hide and easier to track. Still, it was painful for him to say goodbye.

  Yam patted Mor on his shoulder. “We have to go,” he whispered.

  Moving out of Enochio’s hearing range, they packed their bags and started to walk toward the mountain hovering before them. Clouds scudded along its foothills, covering the waves surrounding it. They walked carefully along the narrow strip of dry, rocky land leading to it. The bogo wagged both tails. Yam, thinking it needed an invitation, cocked his head in a “follow us” motion, but the bogo shook its snout no.

  Rae looked at Mor. “Your arms are back,” she said once they were far enough from the snoring angel. Indeed, most of Mor’s upper body was once again visible; only his legs were still missing.

  “You really do look ridiculous with just arms and no legs,” Rae laughed. Mor, waving his fist, approached her.

  “Hey, keep it down! We’re not that far from Enochio yet,” Yam scolded them both.

  Next to the path grew a low bush, its fruit long and yellow with a round, red tip. Rae picked it, cut off its red tip, and drank the liquid with evident enjoyment. “Want some?” she asked Mor. Mor, who’d had enough of the weird fruit here, shook his head. Rae shrugged and held the fruit out to Anise who, after hesitating a bit, took a small sip.

  “It tastes like chocolate milk,” she said, giving Mor a challenging stare.

  “Leave me some. I’m thirsty,” asked Yam. Anise passed him the fruit. He drank and licked his lips. Mor ignored them studiously, concentrating instead on the path.

  Half an hour later, they stood at the foot of the suspended mountain.

  “Rae, are you sure He’s there?” Anise asked, worriedly looking at the enormous, steep mountain whose peak was hidden by clouds.

 

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