A Highly Unlikely Scenario, or a Neetsa Pizza Employee's Guide to Saving the World

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A Highly Unlikely Scenario, or a Neetsa Pizza Employee's Guide to Saving the World Page 18

by Rachel Cantor


  Leonard jumped up, and Zedekiah showed him a small peeping hole in the varnished wood door.

  This is what Leonard saw:

  Felix looking on while a freakishly tall bearded man with a space between his teeth practiced awesome karate kicks.

  He’s laughing

  Sally! Leonard shouted. He’s there! Felix is there! He’s laughing.

  Laughing at the Master? Zedekiah said, pushing Leonard away. This is not possible. Enough. Sit back down. You are not initiated.

  Not initiated! Leonard said. I taught the boy everything he knows! and to Zedekiah’s infinite surprise, and possibly his own, he too began to kick.

  When he finished, Zedekiah’s face was white, and Leonard’s was bright red.

  I insist on seeing the boy this very minute!

  I’ll see what can be done, Zedekiah muttered, and left the room through a door that seemed to lead in an entirely different direction.

  Come look, Leonard said to Sally.

  I trust you, Sally said.

  Leonard looked again through the peeping hole. Abulafia was still kicking, his face ecstatic; Felix was watching a miniature sundial near a window, apparently shouting encouragement. On a low table, near the Master, what looked to be a navigator watch; under the table, carrying bags.

  Zedekiah was nowhere in sight. This is ridiculous, Leonard thought, so he simply opened the door.

  There was no rending of the universe, no disappearing into alternative space realms. Instead, Felix shouted, Leonard! and Abulafia, losing his concentration, lost his balance and landed on an elbow.

  Leonard wasn’t sure what to do first: hug Felix or check whether Felix had stopped yet another world.

  He hugged Felix, of course, who said, Don’t worry, I didn’t stop the world. Abba taught me how to control my powers. It’s not hard once you know how. Or at least some of my powers—we don’t even know how many I have! What happened to your hair? Is Sally here? Hi, Sally!

  Abulafia picked himself up from the ground.

  I believe you have something of mine, he said.

  Leonard ignored him.

  We’ve come to take you home, he said to Felix.

  Something small, Abulafia said. I need it back, we need it back. Tonight, in fact.

  I can’t go home yet, Felix said. We’re bringing on the End of Days, then I can go home.

  Felix, angel button, if you bring on the End of Days, there will be no home.

  Felix looked up at Abulafia quizzically. The Master must have been three times Felix’s height. He knelt down so he could look Felix in the eye.

  Technically, your uncle is correct, he said. But the End of Days is far better than anything, you’ll see.

  Okay, Felix said. Leonard, you won’t believe the things I can do! Abba says that when I stop time, I’m at the edge of the orchard! He knows the secret of the orchard! He knows what the Bens, the rabbi, and the other guy saw there! He’s the rabbi who saw what was there and went home again!

  Abulafia rose again to his full height.

  The orchard is the mystical secret of everything, it is that toward which we ascend, we prophets. The unworthy cannot bear it—they die, they go insane or become heretics. You can see this thing, boychik, if you stay with me.

  Don’t you call him that! Leonard warned.

  He says I’ll see it too! Felix said.

  But we have to leave now if we’re to see the pope tomorrow and be back before the Sabbath, Abulafia said, picking up his carrying bag. My small thing? he asked. Maybe you can give it to me now before you forget?—and he started inching toward Felix.

  Leonard grabbed the boy.

  Oh, no, Leonard said. Felix is finished with you. He’s coming home with us.

  Aww, Leonard! Aww! C’mon!

  Felix stomped his little foot.

  I don’t wanna go home! You can’t make me!

  It’s not going to work, Sally said. Abulafia, it’s not going to work.

  All turned toward Sally. Abulafia put down his bag.

  What do you mean? the mystic said. Of course it’s going to work—and he raised his arms over his head. I am the Messiah, moshiach, the anointed one, descendant of David, messenger of peace! I will share holy signs and wonders with the pope and he shall see! The End of Days shall be upon us! Glory, glory! Only I need my aleph, if you don’t mind—and he extended a hand to Leonard.

  No, Sally said. Don’t you see? If you bring on the End of Days, how can you explain our being here?

  You are sent here to annoy me. By Isaac the Blind, who doesn’t want me sharing secrets with the pope, this I already know. He is jealous. GIVE ME MY ALEPH! PLEASE! Do not make me send you to the land of frozen things!

  No, Sally said, you’re not thinking. Where do we come from?

  You come from an undiscovered land, this I already know.

  Yes, but when? What time do we come from?

  Abulafia leaned against a low table and scrutinized Sally.

  Can you rephrase the question?

  We come from the future, Leonard said.

  Stuff and nonsense, Abulafia said, though he didn’t look so sure.

  It’s true, Sally said. Far, far in the future. More than seven hundred years.

  Fiddle-dee-dee, Abulafia said, looking from Sally to Leonard and back again, waiting for one of them to concede the joke. You are serious?

  Utterly, they said in unison.

  You must prove this thing to me.

  Leonard and Sally looked at each other.

  The navigator watch, that can only be from the future, right? Leonard said, inching toward the watch on the table.

  I am willing to believe, he said, shifting a step or two to his left so he could stand between Leonard and the watch, that undiscovered nations produce wonders in our very day that are unknown to me.

  Ask Felix, Sally said. You know he doesn’t lie.

  Yes, Leonard said, ask Felix. Felix, you must tell Abulafia the absolute truth.

  Yes, Felix said. We come from the future. Can I show my uncle a trick?

  All the air seemed to escape Abulafia’s arms and legs. He lowered himself to the floor and slumped over his long limbs, hopelessly tangled.

  If you come from the future, he said softly, his head in his hands, then I cannot usher in the End of Days and I am not the Messiah. The world cannot end and produce a future.

  He looked so dejected, he seemed to have shrunk four sizes.

  And the pope will kill me, he added.

  I can help, Sally said.

  You cannot help, Abulafia said, so deflated his forehead almost touched his toes. I will go—I must, or too many will lose their faith. But he will definitely kill me.

  I can help, Sally said. If you follow my instructions, I can guarantee your safety.

  Abulafia shook his head.

  There can be no helping me. Who am I if I am not the Messiah, moshiach, anointed one, descendant of David, messenger of peace? What is my purpose if not to bring on the End of Days? Be quiet, I must meditate on this.

  He straightened his back and closed his eyes. Leonard had never seen anyone sit quite so stilly before.

  Sally and Leonard looked at each other.

  He can sit like that a long time, Felix said.

  Really?

  Felix nodded.

  Sally approached him.

  Mr. Abulafia? she shouted into his ear. Mr. Abulafia? I can help you!

  That won’t help, Felix said.

  Mr. Abulafia! Time is running out! You need to listen!

  Sally prodded the master’s shoulder. He swayed but did not attend.

  You’ve seen this before? Leonard asked Felix.

  Felix nodded.

  How long does it last? What brings him out of it?

  Felix shrugged and looked at his toes.

  You know, don’t you?

  It’s embarrassing.

  Embarrassing? Leonard asked. How can you be embarrassed with us? We love you more than anyone anywhere, e
xcept your mother, right?

  Just yesterday, your uncle here ran through ancient Rome in crayon-colored sleeping togs. All the girls tittered, but he wasn’t embarrassed, were you, Leonard?

  I’m not sure they tittered, exactly.

  They tittered! Sally said, and Felix giggled.

  Just this afternoon, Leonard said, Sally here, who has to be the bravest girl ever, got scared of a man covered in wheat flour. She thought he was a ghost!

  Felix smiled. Sally glared.

  You weren’t embarrassed, were you, Sally? Not in front of me, right?

  Sally considered this.

  No, she said, I wasn’t.

  Why are you afraid of ghosts? Felix asked.

  It’s complicated, Sally said.

  Felix waited.

  The kids at school, Sally said, they used to make me sit on the municipal compost heap till after dark, then they scared me with white sheets. I was very little.

  Didn’t you have an uncle to take care of you?

  No, Sally said. I didn’t have anyone. Not anyone. I would have nightmares but no one noticed.

  No one? Felix asked.

  My parents, well, they were busy, she said, and maybe her voice faltered.

  Leonard squeezed Sally’s hand; she squeezed it back.

  So what is it? Leonard asked Felix. No embarrassment. What makes Abulafia wake up?

  He wakes up when I tell him stories, Felix said. He likes to hear about Princess Celeste.

  The Princess Celeste

  Felix said storytelling always worked better on Leonard’s knee, so Leonard sat on a wooden bench and Felix climbed onto his lap.

  Abba says Celeste is really the Shekhina, and the compost heap is the unredeemed material world, Felix explained.

  Ah! Leonard said, squeezing Felix.

  You start, Felix said.

  Me? Leonard asked.

  Yes, Felix said. The stories are better when you tell them.

  Oh, Leonard said. Okay.

  He looked at Sally, who waited attentively.

  Who should our story be about today? Leonard asked. And Felix said, A beautiful princess named Celeste! and Leonard said, Oh, and where does Celeste live? and Felix said, In a great wooded land surrounded by beasties! and Leonard said, Beasties, oh my! and Felix, his pale cheeks pinkening, said, They’re terrible! They like to dump little boys onto the municipal compost heap! And on it went.

  Abulafia opened his eyes.

  What happens next? he said.

  Sally’s plan

  I have a plan for you, Mr. Abulafia, Sally said.

  I’m listening, Abulafia said glumly. Neither his meditation nor Felix’s story had improved his spirits.

  First you must give us the watch, Sally said.

  Abulafia looked at her blankly.

  The demon in the reliquary, Leonard explained.

  Abulafia nodded listlessly. Leonard took the watch from the low table and strapped it to his wrist. It was still cold, and on its face Dwane’s head was frozen and covered with hoarfrost, though the icicles on his chin had started to drip. Leonard pressed the Go to Sleep button to silence Dwane, but the button seemed to have frozen—once defrosted, Dwane might say anything! Leonard nodded to Sally in a way that suggested urgency.

  How many days before the birthday of the world? she asked Abulafia.

  Five, Abulafia said.

  Good number! Leonard said, approving.

  But you’re leaving today, correct?

  Correct. The plan was to convert the pope and be back in time for the Sabbath.

  Does your plan still matter now that you know the world will not end?

  Of course it matters! A Jewish pope? We would all be safe then.

  Okay, Sally said. Well, the birthday of the world must be a powerful time.

  Naturally, Abulafia said. Rosh Hashanah is the Day of Remembrance, the Day of Judgment, the day on which we are inscribed in the Book of Life, when our holy shofar cracks open the heart, and the Gates of Heaven.

  Visit the pope on that day, then, Sally said. The Franciscans may imprison you for a few days, but you will be okay. I promise.

  How do you know this?

  The Birthday of the World will protect you, Sally said. I know this from the future.

  Abulafia nodded.

  I met many Franciscan followers of Joachim in Sicily, he said. I shall be safe with them. Then he looked up, seeming to wake from his miserable haze.

  The boy must come with me. I need him.

  No, Sally said.

  You would keep him against his will? Leonard asked.

  Of course not, Abulafia said, standing, but he wishes to stay.

  Can I, Leonard? Oh, can I?

  Felix, we have to go home. If we don’t go now, you’ll be here forever.

  Oh, no!

  Asher, you like it here, don’t you? You like the games we play and the things I show you?

  Oh, yes!

  You will never see me again, Felix, or your home, if you decide to stay, Leonard said.

  You will never find another teacher like me, Asher. Know this for sure.

  Felix, you froze the whole world, you even froze yourself!

  I did?

  You will learn to do even more marvelous things if you stay with me, Asher. No one will ever toss you onto a dung heap again.

  Compost heap, Sally said.

  Are you going back too, Sally? Felix asked.

  Sally didn’t reply.

  You need a teacher, Asher. Know this: For fifteen years I was tormented because I had no one to guide me. The dung heap was nothing compared to the torture I endured. I was like a blind man. I will not let this happen to you.

  Leonard? I want to stay! Can’t you stay too?

  Felix, your mommy needs you.

  Mommy? My mommy needs me?

  She was injured the night you froze the world, Leonard said. Do you remember? She needs a healer, except all the healers are frozen.

  Felix began to cry.

  You are lying! You must prove this thing, Abulafia challenged.

  If I can prove this thing, and the boy wishes to leave, will you agree to help us return? Leonard said. I will then give back to you what you lost.

  Abulafia scoffed. I will do this thing, he said, though you will not do that thing.

  Leonard is an honest man! Sally said. Even when he isn’t, he is!

  Leonard smiled at her gratefully and sat on the ground, pretzeling his legs in Pythagorean fashion. He looked at the watch: the hoarfrost had melted from Dwane’s head, revealing inflamed facespots. Dwane’s eyes were blinking and shifting this way and that, as if he were trying to orient himself.

  Come, Felix, sit on my lap. Quickly, please. Sally, hold on to my shoulder.

  Once Felix and Sally were in place, Leonard cautioned them to be absolutely still and quiet. He pulled the aleph out of his underarm pocket. It shimmered black and all colors, it hummed all music, it smelled like revolutionary stew and all possible odors, both pleasing and vile, in all possible combinations. Leonard closed his eyes, did a five-second Pythagorean meditation, then gathered his thoughts, as well as the thoughts he was about to have, and might have had, and probably would never have, and concentrated them into an absolute point, hard and sharp as a diamond, and with that diamond inscribed the word Carol into his mind’s eye, then looked deep into the depths of the aleph—and there she was!

  Felix gasped. Carol as a baby, a girl, Carol playing her clarinet, getting the news about their parents, Carol watching Joseph walk away with his oboe, Carol kissing their grandfather, and Leonard, and Felix as they slept, Carol cooking her Chicken-in-Every-Pot Pie and making Felix go outside to play, Carol sneaking out of the house in her climbing suit, Carol storming the Baconian safehouse, tripping in the Business District, being beaten by a justice stick, Carol curling into the classic defensive position, being carried through a frozen world, unconscious in her wheelbarrow, lying, unmoving now, in Leonard’s bed. Unmoving, still unmoving
, always unmoving …

  Does the aleph ever lie? Leonard asked Abulafia.

  Never, the man said.

  I need to go home, Felix said, sobbing. I need to fix my mother.

  Sorry, Mr. Abulafia.

  Just Abulafia, please.

  Sorry, Abulafia, Leonard said, and looked at the watch. Dwane was confused, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

  Time for us to go, he said. Goodbye, Mr. Abulafia. Come on, guys.

  I need to say goodbye to Zedekiah, Felix said.

  No you don’t, Leonard started to reply, but he was interrupted by Dwane’s reedy voice:

  Kill the girl! She’s a liar! She’s evil! Kill the girl! She’s a heretic! She’s evil! The boy is a false prophet. Kill the boy! Kill them both!

  What is this? Abulafia said, looking left and right. He didn’t seem to understand that the voice came from the watch. Am I having a vision? What mystery is this? What am I to understand?

  Ugolino! Kill the girl! Ugolino! Kill the girl! Dwane cried.

  Why do you call me this, Master? Abulafia cried, addressing the ceiling. It is I, Abulafia, Your faithful servant! Is this a sign? If only I had my aleph! Master, I thought I was to be Your Messiah! Tell me, Master, how have I displeased You?

  Abulafia! Dwane said in a scheming voice. Why, yes, you’ve displeased me! Kill the girl, and you will please me.

  Abulafia looked stricken, paler than his usual pale.

  Is she to be my Isaac? Shall a ram appear to save me from heinous murder?

  Abulafia had plainly gone mad—madder than mad, even! Leonard had to do something, but what?

  I do not believe you wish this of me, Master! Abulafia said, still addressing the ceiling.

  I do wish this! Dwane shouted. I wish this very very much! Kill the girl! Kill the girl! And the child! And the Stan with the big hair.

  No one here matches that description, Abulafia said.

  Sally grabbed the watch from Leonard’s hand and shouted, Go away, Dwane! We don’t need you here, Abulafia doesn’t need you.

 

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