Escape from Paradise

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Escape from Paradise Page 12

by D. Richard Ferguson


  The round of hugs also puzzled Adam. It seemed presumptuous for a server to take such liberties. But at the same time it seemed beneath a man of his age and dignity. At once, above his station and beneath his stature, yet the friends received it as the most natural gesture in the world.

  “Well, I’d better get back to the kitchen,” Charles said. “We’ve got a lot of—”

  “Dishes?” Hodia asked, already on her feet. Tichi also stood, dropped her napkin on the table, and started toward the kitchen with Hodia.

  Adam leaned in to Abigail and whispered. “Couldn’t that have waited until after they ate?”

  Abigail chuckled. “Of course it could!”

  “Then why ... they seemed so excited about their food and didn’t even get a single bite.”

  “Are you feeling sorry for them?” Abigail chuckled again. “They’re in the kitchen now ...” she raised her eyebrows, “with the chef. Everyone at this table envies them. If they would have hesitated even a second, someone else would have jumped up. Those two just always seem to beat us to it.”

  Adam watched the two ladies make their way across the crowded hall. The way people stepped aside for them, pausing their conversations, the looks of admiration—“Are they rich? Or ... famous? Or ...”

  Abigail cocked her head. “Adam, they’re servants.”

  “I should get back there and help the ladies,” Charles said, finishing a brief conversation with Layth. He took a few steps toward the kitchen, then turned, pointed at the group and said, “Remember: Walk with the wind”—Layth, Watson, Kailyn, and everyone else in earshot finished the slogan in unison—“and you won’t want the fruit!”

  *****

  Gadol surveyed the gathering of humans in the banquet hall. “They don’t even realize we’re here, do they?”

  “They should,” Qashar replied. “They’ve been told about us.” He sighed. “They tend to forget there’s more to life than just what they can see.”

  “Who’s he?” Qashar pointed toward the door where a hulking guardian had just entered and looked around the room like he was lost.

  “I don’t know,” said Gadol. “But whoever he’s here to guard is going to be safe. He’s huge!”

  Chayil, the ranking guardian in the group, caught the newcomer’s attention and waved him over. “His name is Nathan. He’s here to guard Levi.”

  Gadol’s eyes lit up. “Levi’s getting a guardian? That’s great!”

  “Yes. It’s a good sign.” Chayil said.

  As he approached, Nathan nodded at each of the guardians in the group, then embraced Chayil. “So good to see you again, old friend!” Nathan stood almost as tall as Chayil and might have been even more muscular.

  As he released the embrace, Chayil pointed to Levi. “There’s your man.”

  Nathan pressed his lips together and nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” Then he turned back to Chayil. “Why me? Is he in danger?”

  “Not that I know of. He hasn’t even gone through the cottage yet.”

  Nathan gave another thoughtful nod. “You don’t still do the thing with the names, do you?”

  The chorus of laughter from the other guardians gave him his answer.

  Chayil gestured to Gadol. “He guards Kailyn. Her weapon is strength and courage, so we call him K-lion.

  Nathan rolled his eyes.

  “Qashar guards Watson, the strategist—really smart. So his nickname is Sol. You know—for Solomon.”

  “Clever. What about you?”

  Chayil pointed to Layth. “That’s my guy. He’s a handful.”

  “I meant your nickname. What do they call you?”

  “Well, uh, it’s not really related to his weapon. For some reason they—”

  Gadol blurted it out. “Big Red!”

  Chayil shook his head. “The man is a legend on the battlefield, strikes fear in the hearts of commanders and powers, and has defeated scores of warriors singlehandedly. And they name me after his hair.” He shook his head again as the others laughed.

  Nathan sighed. “I guess there’s no avoiding it.” He turned to Levi. “But if he hasn’t gone through the cottage, he doesn’t even have a weapon. So what—”

  “Levite!” Gadol said. “We’ll call you Levite.”

  “Seriously? That’s the best you can—”

  “Levite it is,” Chayil said.

  Nathan/Levite turned to Abigail. “So she’s the one I heard about.” He set his gaze on her guardian. “What do they call you?”

  “He doesn’t need a nickname,” Chayil said. “He already has the perfect name to go with Abigail’s weapon. Charis.”

  “Ah, Greek for grace and beauty.” He looked again at Abigail. “You’re right. It is perfect.”

  *****

  As the servers brought tray after tray to the table, Levi leaned toward Adam. “We’ll all be sick tonight!”

  Eye’s wide, Adam smiled. “Guess so!”

  “No we won’t,” Layth said as he bit into a leg of lamb.

  Watson explained. “The chef’s delicacies are unlike fruit in every respect. You may indulge as you please. Indeed, the more you consume, the better you feel.”

  “It doesn’t hurt your gut?” Levi asked.

  Watson shook his head. “No nausea, no discomfort, no obesity, no adverse effects of any kind. Every bite brings only improved health and growth.”

  “So you just keep eating until the food runs out?” Levi asked.

  “It never runs out,” Watson said. “That is part of what makes the banquets so enjoyable—the sheer abundance.” He waved his arm in a sweeping motion. “If every person ate all day and all night they would not consume a tenth of the spread.”

  Layth raised a fork. “And the great thing about this hall is the wait staff. They make sure all plates and cups are kept full.”

  “If you never feel over-full,” said Adam, “and the more you eat, the better you feel, and it never runs out, what makes you stop eating?”

  “Only lack of appetite,” Watson said.

  “And Judas desires,” Abigail added.

  It all seemed far too good to be true. But then again, so many things had turned out to be the opposite of what Adam had expected, he was ready to believe just about anything.

  “’Nuff yammerin’ already.” Layth pointed his fork at Adam’s plate. “Dig in.”

  Adam took in the feast in front of him and wasn’t sure where to start—mainly because he didn’t recognize anything on his plate.

  “Let me help you,” Abigail said as she reached to take a large, red object from the center of his plate. “This is a lobster tail. You crack it open—like this.”

  His pulse raced as Abigail’s arm pressed against his.

  “Here, that’s melted butter. Dip it ... there you go.”

  Adam placed the morsel between his teeth, bit into it, chewed, swallowed, and tasted ... nothing. He took another bite. No flavor at all. The food seemed to dissolve in his throat. He bit into a pork chop. It was like eating air. He sampled every item on his plate—nothing.

  Adam’s eyes darted around the table. Everyone—including Levi—appeared to be enjoying every bite.

  What’s wrong with me? Am I losing my mind?

  He surveyed the surrounding tables. To his left, three people ate heartily, but three others hadn’t touched their food. At the table behind Layth, only one person was eating. After a quick scan of the tables, Adam guessed a third of the people were not eating. Maybe half. He understood why. Who wants to eat air?

  But what of all the people who were eating and clearly enjoying it? Were they pretending? The words of Alexander floated into Adam’s mind. They believe it’s true because they want it to be true.

  A stab of fear alarmed Adam. Was he being pulled into superstition?

  Abigail was an emotional person. He could see her being manipulated. But what about Watson? He’s a rational guy. How could a man like him be convinced he’s eating food when he isn’t?

  Adam wa
s haunted with a sense that the problem was his. Something was wrong with him. Deep down—deeper than the wounds from the wolf bites, something at the core of his being lay dead. That’s why he didn’t taste the food.

  Was that it? Or were all these people being duped by some kind of mind-altering cult?

  “I’m afraid I have to go,” he said, standing up. “Thank you for bringing me. I’ve enjoyed meeting all of you. But I need to leave.”

  “You can’t go now,” Abigail pleaded. “You haven’t even seen the chef. He’ll come out any minute now. At least stay until then.”

  Adam looked toward the kitchen. He hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t be here.”

  He was careful not to look at Abigail, knowing if he did, he wouldn’t be able to leave. His steps toward the door were as brisk as he dared without drawing attention. Once outside, he ran.

  A cycle of emotions drove his pace. Too many bizarre happenings. Being surrounded by that many unexplained mysteries was ... too much.

  His run became a sprint, fists clenched. He had given up everything and endured so much. And for what? Lies!

  Then he slowed, then stopped. Now what?

  He had covered a good half mile before he even thought about his direction. Do I go back to the lowlands? He recalled what had driven him to the high country in the first place. Which was worse—feeling confused and condemned in the banquet hall, or empty and dry in the orchard? Both were unbearable. Faced with those options, he’d rather feel nothing at all. Why go on living?

  Whoa—where did that thought come from? He shook his head. “Pull yourself together Adam.”

  *****

  Big Red stood with Sol and K-lion at the hall door and watched Adam disappear into the distance. All three guardians snapped to attention as Gibbor the Mighty approached from the kitchen. “As you were,” Gibbor said. None of the three had ever met Gibbor before—or any guardian of his rank. But why had he been called? There must be more to this operation than they knew.

  Big Red had been the highest ranking guardian in the region before Gibbor’s arrival, and he was the first to summon the courage to address the legendary leader. “Do you think Adam will come to his senses? Or will he go back across the river?”

  Gibbor was silent for a long moment, then spoke in a grave tone. “If he crosses the river, it will not go well for him. He will be overtaken by his greatest fear.”

  “Bondage?” Big Red asked.

  The imposing guardian took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. “Worse.”

  Gibbor straightened and spoke to Big Red, K-lion, and Sol with a tone befitting his rank. “Return to your charges and build them up. Tell Levite and Charis to do the same. Especially Charis. I believe the enemy will go after Abigail. Allow yourselves no rest. See that the humans are ready. I sense they are about to be severely tested, and they must not fall.”

  “If Adam is taken,” he added, “he will face the darkest days of his life. But it won’t just be him.” Gibbor turned toward the banquet hall. “This whole place could become a pile of rubble.”

  Had it been anyone else speaking, Big Red would have assumed that to be exaggeration. But he did not take Gibbor as one to speak loosely. Big Red imagined the magnificent hall falling, and he cringed. How could the fate of one man who hasn’t even been through the cottage affect one of the most powerful banquet halls in the region?

  Chapter 20

  “Abby, wait.” Watson took hold of his sister’s arm. “Don’t go. Stay for the meal, then we can go after Adam together.”

  “I want to catch him before he gets too far. Let me go.” She wrested her arm free.

  “You need to eat. And ... it’s not a good idea for you to go alone.”

  “I’m afraid if he sees us all coming, he’ll run. But if it’s just me ... I know I can get through to him. He listens to me.”

  “Yes, he does. But how much of his listening is desire for the truth, and how much is desire for you?”

  Abigail’s face reddened. “You think I’m going after him because ...”

  Watson clasped her hand with both of his and met her fierce gaze with a tender one of his own. “Abby, I know you have good motives. You want Adam to meet the Ruler. I do too. But we both know other motives can entwine themselves with our good ones. I’ve seen how you look at him, and—”

  Abigail turned away. Watson touched her shoulder, but she pulled free.

  Watson sighed.

  She turned back and looked up at Watson with glassy eyes. “If we just let him go, what will happen to him?”

  Watson took his sister’s hand and placed in her palm a piece of the cottage with a bold inscription. “Do not go near the door of temptation’s house. Her hands are chains. Venture too close, and you will be ensnared. Her slain are a mighty throng.”

  Abigail took the piece but didn’t close her hand around it.

  *****

  Crouched in a cave overlooking the wooden banquet hall, Anzu kept watch. He moved further back in the cave. The guardians surrounding this hall were some of the most dangerous in the region. He knew his chances of remaining undetected were slim, and if discovered, there would be no escape.

  Venturing into the high country was one thing, but operating this close to the wooden hall ... he wondered if Adramelech had intentionally assigned him to a task that would end in his demise.

  The warriors had suffered defeat in the last encounter with Kailyn, Abigail, and Watson, even though the humans had been caught off guard. Now that they were alert, they would be near impossible to defeat as a group. Adam must be kept far from them and from any other cottage people—especially Layth. If anyone other than Abigail followed Adam, Adramelech was to be alerted at once.

  Three warriors flashed across the front of the cave. What on earth? Anzu stepped out and nearly collided with Morax. Anzu scowled. “What are you doing here? I thought you were assigned to Levi.”

  Anzu’s irritation doubled when Morax ignored the question. Without slowing, Morax and his crew of warriors maneuvered through the trees to the back of the hall.

  Judging from the elite team, Anzu figured Adramelech must have sent them on a mission to capture someone from the hall. He figured right. Minutes later, they emerged with their victim.

  Hodia? Wow. Even Anzu had to admit, this was an impressive capture.

  Morax would have disregarded Anzu again, but Anzu caught his arm and squeezed. “Where are you taking her?”

  “To the lowlands. Now let go.” Morax’ hand went to his sword.

  Anzu relented. Morax was smaller but much faster, and this wasn’t the place for a skirmish anyway.

  “The lowlands? What is that going to accomplish? She won’t take fruit. Hodia hasn’t eaten so much as a grape in twenty years.”

  “Yes,” Morax acknowledged with a subtle grin, “and she’s proud of it.”

  *****

  East of the hall, Lucius receded into the trees, glaring at Adam. “Let me take him now,” he whispered.

  Adramelech raised his hand, silencing the lieutenant. He said nothing for several minutes. Then he pointed to the south. Lucius turned to see a petite figure entering the grove.

  Abigail stepped slowly, cautiously. “She knows we’re here,” Adramelech said. “Stay quiet. Don’t spook her.”

  Lucius understood now what Adramelech meant when he spoke of the greater prize. Abigail’s desires for Adam were becoming strong enough that she would soon be deceivable. They had likely lost Levi, but there was a real chance not only to strengthen their hold on Adam but to capture Abigail as well. And if she fell, a significant number in her network of friends would follow.

  *****

  Abigail found Adam sitting against a log with his face in his hands. She approached him silently from behind.

  Without lifting his head Adam spoke. “I’m not going back, Abigail.” Then he stood and turned to face her. “I’m glad you came. More than you know. But ... I ...” He turned away. “I can’t go back.�


  Abigail took his hand and made him face her. “Why did you leave?”

  He sighed. “I know you and your friends enjoy that food, and I respect that. But it’s ... it’s just not for me.”

  She strained to hide her heartbreak.

  Adam went on, “I’ve never been more miserable than I am now. It’s like something is pressing me down. I just want to be happy. I can’t go the rest of my life without fruit.”

  “The fruit gives you pleasure, not happiness. You’re only thinking of the taste. But think about what it’s like when the taste is gone and you’ve swallowed. That isn’t happiness, is it?”

  “Of course it’s happiness! What’s so wrong about eating fruit anyway? It doesn’t hurt anyone. What is fruit for if not the stomach? And the stomach for fruit. It’s the most natural thing in the world.”

  “It’s natural for a merely natural person, but right or wrong has nothing to do with naturalness.”

  “Then why is it wrong?”

  “Because it dishonors the Ruler when you prefer garbage over his delicacies. And it’s self-destructive. It strengthens you to resist the wind. It blinds you to the colors. It destroys your appetite. And it—”

  “Is that why I couldn’t taste the food—because I still want fruit?”

  “I think so. Can you run in opposite directions at the same time? Your will can’t do that anymore than your body can.”

  Adam huffed in frustration. “I’ve gone all this time without eating fruit, and where has it gotten me?”

  “You stopped eating fruit, but you did not stop loving it. Your appetites follow what your soul clings to. And you reap what you sow in your thoughts. A few minutes of letting your affections attach to fruit is like sowing weed seeds in your heart, and the harvest is a whole lot of Judas desires. Every thought you entertain is a step in some direction. If you keep taking steps in your mind toward evil, you will eventually arrive at the destination you’ve been walking toward. But if you kept your thoughts on the cottage—”

 

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