CHAPTER 13
The door closed behind him, but it went unnoticed. His eyes laid hold of a scene beyond anything he could ever have imagined. His eyes adjusted to the dawning light of the soft sky. The light was nothing he had ever known. He tried to relate, but it was unfair to the beautiful light to be compared to anything on the inside. At that moment, he knew what dawn was. It was more real than anything he had ever witnessed. His breath turned to ice as he inhaled. It turned to steam as he exhaled. It was such a strange thing, to see his breath, that he started laughing. He breathed in deep and breathed out long just to see the trail of vapor. He looked up and saw what he knew to be the sky. An infinite expanse, colored with the softest hues. The colors of purple, pink, and orange seemed to be living and moving. What he had known of color before was flat and unnatural. These were true. True and alive. He stared in awe at the heavens until he became too dizzy. Then his eyes laid hold of what he knew then to be the horizon. The jagged land met and embraced the spectacular sky. Mountains. He took his first step. His foot found the first experience of natural ground tantalizing. The solid plane of sand crumbled under every step, leaving behind the indention of his small shoe. The flat land traveled impossibly toward the distant mountains. For miles. With infinite disbelief becoming a reality, his wildest imagination could not have escaped his reason to envision anything remotely close.
But where was the sun?
He didn’t see it. It was said to be in the beautiful sky, but it was not.
The outside is here. The sky is here.
Where in the sky is the sun? Or is the sky and the sun one in the same?
As he wondered, the sky continued to shift in color, and it began to grow brighter.
There must be a sun.
The great landscape became increasingly beautiful. Green shrubs spotted the desert ground. The sand took a color of a rich tan.
He felt something move across his face, an unseen but steady breeze, cooling and calming. Life had been so stale before. He simply never knew.
Then it happened. A bright ray streamed over the mountain and met the boy’s eye. Beam after beam came forth, stretching into the sky until it faded into the colors. Then it peaked. A golden arch began to rise. The boy stared intently and curiously. It slowly became brighter the more it revealed itself. He then understood what he had never been taught. The sun moves! The sun rises! Minute after inspiring minute, the sun continued to rise, and it illuminated everything. The rays met his skin and for the first time, he felt the natural warmth, a warmth growing in him, a warmth fuller than anything he had ever experienced. He then viewed the sun, completely risen, unhindered by the horizon. It proved itself to be greater than the mountains, than anything he witnessed. He was seeing the landscape by light of the sun, and he knew at that moment he was seeing what was truly good. He took off his shoes and stepped across the sand, feeling the cold ground crumble between his toes. He walked toward the sun as if to get closer. His eyes continued to hold to the sun as the beautiful golden globe grew brighter. He began to walk absent-mindedly. He closed his eyes to focus on the refreshing breeze and the warmth of the sun on his face and skin. The ground grew warm beneath his feet.
As each moment passed, the sun continued to rise. The higher it rose, the brighter it became. He looked into the sun, but its brightness was too great. It was blinding. He was forced to look away. Again he tried, and just the same, he had to divert his eyes. Bright and beautiful.
The entire landscape had opened up into a glory more glorious than the Historian could ever have imagined. What a shame he was not here, Josiah thought. He had never known beauty before this.
His face, his arms, his feet grew warmer and warmer. He ventured out farther despite the fear that the vastness might swallow him. He then stood still with his arms held out, absorbing the good of the sun. He was in shear amazement that something that seemed so distant could affect him the way this did. Minute by minute passed, warmer and warmer he grew.
He walked to the nearest shrub, something he had never seen, very unlike the lab vegetation. He plucked a green leaf from the plant and rubbed it between his fingers. The smell, the fragrance of the leaf was astoundingly fresh and unique. What was it?
He noticed the warmth and shed his jacket, placing it on the ground. He bent down and buried his hands in the sand, breaking it up until it ran freely through his fingers. He looked back up to the sun but could no longer even keep a glance.
How has all this been hidden?
Why has all this been hidden?
He stood up from the ground and threw a handful of sand into the air. Minute by minute passed, warmer and warmer he grew.
As he walked, sweat started to perspire from his skin. It was not a new sensation, but still rare enough to be a curious one. He wiped his forehead and walked further still, though neither the mountains nor the sun seemed any closer. He could feel the rays of the sun more definitely on his skin. Tingling. This sensation was new and bizarre. Nothing had or could ever come close. He knew he would see the sun, but he never imagined that he would feel the sun.
It rose higher and brighter. The boy’s face was slightly pink. The tingling of the rays subtly moved to prickling. The change of sensation was incredible as well as a bit uncomforting. He slowed his steps and eventually came to a halt. He looked around. Harsh shadows appeared on the desert ground. The boy began to feel nervous. He turned around to make his way back. He then saw for the first time the monstrous dome structure with outer walls of black solar panels. It was a hideous sight that scarred a beautiful and perfect country. He hesitated. There was no comparison. He did not want to go back. But the sun continued to rise, and its warmth quickly changed to heat. It pressed on his neck. He noticed a red tint to his arms. He was a far distance from the door though the black dome seemed to tower above him
He had to get back.
He wiped his sweat from his neck, but was surprised to feel the pain of heat. His arms, his feet, his neck began to feel hot, too hot, burning. His pace quickened. Every step felt greater heat from the sand and the sun. Sweat started to run freely. His heart began to race. Fear became real. Danger caused him to worry. He reached the black door with his arms and feet visibly red. Every touch was painful. The breeze was cruel and intolerable.
He grabbed the handle of the door. With a sudden jerk, his hand let go, burnt red. He started to panic. He turned to grab it again, but again he jerked his hand back, this time to find blisters burnt into his palm. His neck, arms, legs, and feet began to severely burn. Everywhere the sun touched him, he was in agony. He took off his shirt to wrap around his hand in order to turn the handle. The sun burned on his back. The handle wouldn’t turn. His legs and his feet began to swell, but the door would not open. His back began to blister. He could smell his hair burning. Without thinking he began to beat his fists on the metal door. With every beat his fists burned. His clothes were smoldering. His neck was swelling. His blisters were bursting. The sun kept burning. He was beating and burning. Beating and burning. His hair was burning. His back was swelling. His feet were splitting. His throat was closing. The burnt and bloody skin of his fists was peeling and slipping. He was beating and burning, beating and burning …beating ….burning ……beating ……burning ………burning.
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Level A had been swept, cleared, and stationed rather quickly. Upon seeing no commotion and preventing anything from happening further, the guards not stationed on the upper level were told to thoroughly sweep the lowest level since it held the prisoner responsible for the treasonous plot. To a guard’s great surprise, he found an open door along the outer wall. To his greater surprise, he found to where and to whom the door led.
Josiah woke up lying in a bed that was not his. He strained his eyes to open and focus, but all he could see was the soft, dim light of the hospital. He tried to call out, but all he could muster was a whisper.
“Hello?”
“I’m here, darling.” The words echoed dreamily through his h
ead. It was his mother’s voice, but it seemed more distant than the mountains.
“Mountains,” he whispered.
“Josiah, baby, what is it?”
“Mountains, your voice. Where are you?”
“I’m right here, Josiah. Can you feel me squeezing your hand? Baby, talk to me.”
“My hands? Hands, hands,” he murmured. “Hands, hands. Sands!”
“Yes, Josiah, can you feel mine?”
“Your sands?”
“Oh, poor baby. I’m right here. Okay? I’ll always be right here.”
He felt extremely weak. He couldn’t lift his arms. He couldn’t move his legs. He couldn’t lift his head. His body was stiff and swollen.
His mother kept her word. She remained constantly by her son’s side. The nurses were afraid to approach her since they had been on the receiving end of a mother’s violent fits of desperation. No one could explain what had happened to her child. Why was he in so much pain? In all the combined years of the hospital staff, they knew nothing of this, and even less as to how to treat it. All that they were able to promise was to make him as comfortable as possible.
He would often mumble in his sleep, but his words were incomprehensible.
“Severe trauma often leads to derangement,” the doctor would say.
“My son is not crazy!”
“Ma’am, I never –”
“My son is not crazy.”
He was in and out of mind for a week, sometimes barely hanging on and sometimes thriving. In a last moment of clarity, the boy reached out his hand in search of his mother’s. His eyes were open, vividly blue with a look of intense joy. A boyish smile spread across his face.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear, I’m here.” A tear rolled down her cheek as she kissed his disfigured hand.
“It’s so beautiful. Oh, mom, you should see it.”
“What is it, Josiah?”
“The sun.”
The smile disappeared from his face, his blue eyes faded into a dull grey, his hands loosed their grip, and he died.
Word of the bizarre death of the poor, young boy traveled through the colony quickly and even reached into the impenetrable walls of the prisoners’ cells. Questions were asked. How did it happen? What did it all mean? What was the sun?
The silent guard finally found his voice, for it was him who had rescued the boy. He spoke of the truth and of the secrets that had been kept for so long, even from him. The Captain’s secrets.
“It’s too soon!” The Captain said it as he was confronted. For the first time, the strong man’s boldness failed and his face showed fear. “They won’t understand. It was for their safety! For your safety!”
The guard held his tongue one last time. He rose up against the Captain and delivered him of his duty and his life.
As the guard opened and looked into the Captain’s mysterious, locked room, the vicious head of a lion stared back. He continued to search the strange room and discovered secret after secret. Based on what had been revealed, the world was opened, history was changed, and the captives were set free. Though he was against the deceitfulness of his past leader, he still maintained one secret. He burned the picture of Josiah and his mother which he found lying on the desk.
For the first time in his long life, the old, weathered man introduced himself as John the Historian. He knew beyond any doubt that the sun was real, that there was an outside, and that his searching had been meaningful after all. His thoughts did not linger on his own death, though it was surely coming, but on the death of Josiah which promised so much more. His only regret was that the boy never knew his true name, a name the Historian only knew at that moment.
Josiah was at the outside. The sun was setting high, and everything was illuminated. As he looked in all directions, he knew that there was no other outside. He was no longer trapped on the inside, and so there remained no other search. He simply sat in awe and in peace, in the presence of the sun, and knew that someday others would witness the same thing he was witnessing and would enjoy the sun just as he was doing.
The End.
Josiah the Reformer Page 13