The Reconciling [Part 1]

by April Lynn Newell

  “I want to go home,” she says choking back tears. Chrissi is shocked and not sure what to say. Lesia Walters is opening up to her arch nemesis. “Aren’t you homesick?”

  “Yeah, yeah I am,” Chrissi realizes. When her short response is followed by Lesia’s sobs, Chrissi tries to muster up some encouragement of her own, after all they may be stuck together for awhile, might as well try to be friendly. “But we’ll be OK. Nahal knows my Granny, I’m sure she knows how to get in touch with her and get us home. We’ll be back before you know it!” Chrissi tries to reassure her.

  “Right,” Lesia chokes between sobs. “Of course. We’ll be home soon.” She wipes her face and nose with the sleeve of her jacket. Chrissi sees the hammock sway as Lesia turns over, burying her head in the small, flat pillow.

  Soon enough Chrissi hears the rhythmic breaths of sound sleep from above and she succumbs to light slumber as well, her last view of the Little Dipper outside the open window set in a black but bright sky. A bright, black sky she surely still shares with home.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The next two days pass in a blur for all of them. Mostly the villagers and their children help keep their minds off how much they miss home. Playing in the field with the kids after their schoolwork and hunting with the men help Kesil and Phil stay active and distracted.

  “I killed an animal!” Phil says excitedly to Chrissi on the afternoon of their first full day in Chazaq.

  “Ew!” Lesia cries at the two boys’ dirt and sweat ridden faces, looking up from her compact mirror. She recaps her bright-pink, glossy lipstick, and sticks it all back in the purse that never leaves her side.

  Chrissi chuckles lightly, “That’s great Phil. Congratulations.”

  He continues relaying his first experience with Lesia, who just repeats “ew” over and over again, and Kesil, who was present for Phil’s amateur hunt and saw everything with his own eyes.

  Chrissi stares outside in the doorway of Nahal’s hut. The men of the village return to quick kisses from their wives and exuberant hugs from their children before washing up for dinner. It has been a sweet day, a day of rest and rejuvenation, but Chrissi is anxious to find home—and answers.

  Nahal’s girls run up to the hut preceding their father with his bow and quiver in hand.

  “Dinnertime!” they exclaim in unison.

  Chrissi laughs as she moves out of their way. She and Lesia cooked most of the meal per Nahal’s very detailed recipe, but she is still a little hesitant about how it all turned out. Definitely nothing like Nahal’s cooking, but surely it will be edible.

  “Chrissi Lee!” Nahal calls from the open front door of her hut. Chrissi runs in from playing soccer a few yards away in an open field.

  “I told you to call me Chrissi!” she says lightheartedly as she reaches Nahal.

  “Oh but your name was chosen with purpose and holds such great meaning. It is so beautiful!” the woman smiles warmly but quickly becomes serious, knowing the ever-looming conversation about to come requires it. “Chrissi, you must go on now.”

  “Go on?”

  “Yes, to your journey. It has been two full days, better not make it three!”

  “But…journey?”

  “You received an invitation, yes?” Nahal asks knowingly. “You could not come to this place otherwise.”

  “Well, yeah, I just…I just thought you would take us home. I didn’t…” Chrissi pauses, unsure of what she wants to say.

  “You did not think the journey was real,” Nahal finishes for her.

  “No, no I didn’t,” Chrissi feels a little perturbed, like Nahal led her on to believe she would be going home, not “going on”.

  “You are the only one who can take you home. We have equipped you all as much as possible. You have rested, you have food and water in proper traveling bags, and clothing. Yes, it is time,” Nahal says, as if trying to convince herself as well. “You can no longer stay here. It isn’t possible.”

  Chrissi frowns. “I understand,” she says solemnly to be polite.

  “Good,” Nahal says sternly, then suddenly becoming her chipper self, “Better bring everyone in for proper farewells!” she motions to the others.

  “One more thing,” Chrissi catches Nahal’s arm before she disappears inside her hut. “If this is my journey, why were we all transported here?”

  “Oh my dear,” Nahal says soothingly, “this is everyone’s journey, and it has been everyone’s since the very beginning. You, Phil, Kesil, and Lesia were always meant to come, together.” She briefly smiles with the same solemnity Chrissi feels and then ducks inside.

  “What’s up?” Phil asks Chrissi as he jogs up to the hut.

  “We have to leave, or rather, it’s time to leave now.”

  “Now?” Lesia asks excitedly. “We’re going home now?” She beams brightly for the first time in two days. Chrissi realizes the girl never fully relaxed nor enjoyed herself like the others.

  “Um, well, no. Not yet!” Chrissi tells her. “I’m sorry, but it appears the journey is real. We have to continue.”

  “Continue?” Lesia snaps. “Continue where? It’s just DESERT! And, and that dreadful forest! Where are we supposed to go?” she becomes hysterical. She enters the hut and continues her rant, “Nahal! Nahal! Where are we supposed to go? This is NOT fair! How can you do this to us? Take us in just to kick us out. We’re-we’re aliens here! We have no idea—”

  “Sh!” Nahal cuts. “If I didn’t know—oh nevermind child,” she brushes Lesia off and walks across the room to a pile of burlap backpacks. “These are for you, one for each, with food, water, clothing, and blankets.”

  “Um,” Phil says hesitantly, “I mean this in the kindest way possible…where do we go Nahal? Lesia is right, there doesn’t seem to be…anything.” Lesia crosses her arms triumphantly and plants an arrogant and challenging glance on Nahal with a “humph” for added emphasis.

  “There are two paths from here. These two paths lead to many more and those to even more. You must choose one, either the Boundless Forest,” Nahal stands in the doorway and points left, “or the Narrow Forest,” she points to her right. “You must decide, I cannot do it for you,” she bows and steps the rest of the way outside. The group grabs their bags and follows suit, Lesia slower than anyone and pouting. Taking in the cozy village once more they march out to the field to evaluate their options.

  “They both look terrifying,” Lesia says gloomily, tears in her eyes.

  “What are we looking for?” Kesil asks. Everyone jumps at the sound of his voice, almost as if they forgot he is here. Kesil’s brow furrows slightly as he realizes he was momentarily forgotten.

  “Roi!” Nahal and Phil exclaim together. She grins approvingly at him.

  “Yes, King Roi himself. He holds all the answers you have ever searched for or will ever search for. Roi is what you journey towards. He is bringing you to him.”

  “Then how about a map?” Kesil says. Everyone shifts in discomfort for thinking the same thing. Nahal just continues to smile.

  “It is never easy putting aside comfort and familiarity, but this must be done in order to come to him and see him. He will lead you, though not as conventionally as paper,” she says with light laughter filled with understanding. “Let him lead you and you will see.”

  “What about the Book?” Kesil questions her pointedly, desire in his eyes. “My uncle told me about it. He said some people on journeys, long ago, found the Book, that’s how we have it now…on earth. The original is supposed to be somewhere along the journey. It will give you anything you want. We can just find it and go home.”

  “It does not quite work that way,” Nahal says cautiously. Chrissi notices the worry in the woman’s eyes, fear even.

  “But the ORIGINAL!” Phil gasps. “Incredible! We must—” he looks over at Chrissi, “Science face?”

  “Biggest.”

  “Right.”

  “Egghead,” Lesia blurts, then yawns theatrically. “Whatever!
Let’s just get on with it. I want to go home!” she begins to work herself up again, stomping her foot. A crowd has gathered to see them off and one woman in the very front stares, astonished, at Lesia.

  “OK, OK,” Chrissi says. “Let’s vote then.”

  “Book,” Phil and Kesil say in unison. Everyone looks at Lesia, holding the deciding ballot.

  “I don’t know! I don’t want to make a choice! I want the path that leads us straight home!” she yells in Nahal’s general direction.

  “There is no such path child. We desire ease and comfort often, choices to be made for us even, yet it is not always so easy. You must have a choice,” the woman says calmly. Lesia plops down and begins to cry violently, rocking slightly from the force of her sobs.

  “I want to go home!” The boys roll their eyes and look to Chrissi, who is completely flabbergasted and does not know what to do. The next vote decides what they will do and she does not want to choose either. She stares at Lesia. Can she join her sob fest on the ground?

  “I can’t believe that is Lesia Walters! Jealousy and bitterness radiate from her!” the woman in the front row says, just loud enough for the girl to hear. Lesia looks up in defiance. She stands up and points at the woman.

  “YOU DON’T KNOW ME! NONE OF YOU DO! You all walk around here talking like you can tell the future! You don’t know me! Stop judging me!” Tears flow freely down Lesia’s face. Nahal comes close and holds her shoulders in a short embrace that sends a burst of peace through Lesia she has never truly felt before, not even from her own mother. Nahal gives the woman a sharp expression, and the woman hangs her head low, sinking into the crowd. Lesia wipes her face with the backs of her hands. “Let’s go find the Book.”

  Chrissi glances at Nahal to witness an anxious expression, “The vote has it, where do we find the Book?” she asks Nahal.

  “You begin in the Boundless Forest,” she says simply. “You must know,” she continues, “you will be forced to choose a side, everyone chooses whether on the supernatural plane or the natural. The sides are only more obvious and blatant here.” As she speaks, she keeps a strange gaze on Kesil, as if she is speaking directly to him. He shifts in uneasiness but wears a look of stubborn confidence.

  “Great,” he says, meeting her gaze strongly. “Let’s go then.” He begins walking towards the forest. In the distance another wooden sign describes the paths, much like the sign introducing Chazaq.

  Phil and Lesia hug Nahal goodbye, then follow Kesil. Chrissi moves toward Nahal for her final embrace but Nahal moves too quickly and grabs Chrissi’s hand instead.

  Chrissi freezes.

  No one has ever made such a bold gesture. She stares at her dark-red glove in the dainty hands of a loving mentor.

  “Chrissi Lee, remember their strengths. Remember the gifts. Pay. Attention,” she warns. Chrissi is so stunned, she isn’t sure what to do or say. Nahal’s grip loosens and drops the gloved hand; Chrissi turns to follow her friends. She jogs a few feet to catch up, then glances back at Nahal. For a brief moment Chrissi thinks she sees the woman wipe away a tear. She blinks, but when her eyes open once more, Nahal is waving enthusiastically, wearing a strained smile.

  When they reach the fork at the very edge of the forest, far enough away from the village that the huts are mere dots, they can see the subtle difference. One side of the forest is deep and dark, even though the mid-morning sun blares overhead. The other side, though still towering, exudes peace and is much greener compared to the deadened browns of the other. Chrissi’s cheeks flush and she avoids eye contact with Phil. Could this deadened forest have anything to do with her curse? Are there more like her?

  “Well, here we go!” Kesil says optimistically following the small wooden arrow directing to the Boundless Forest. Lesia follows immediately with the smallest feeling of excitement of the potential of finally going home. Chrissi takes one last look behind them, taking in the comfortable security of the village. She turns slightly to wave at Nahal, but she is already gone. Phil motions to her and they take the path together.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I can’t see anything!” Lesia squeals. “Is there a path?”

  “Yeah, keep walking towards my voice,” Kesil instructs as Lesia, Chrissi, and Phil walk cautiously, arms outstretched before them. Chrissi bumps into a couple of trees and finally reaches the small clearing where Kesil stands contemplating their next move.

  “The moon,” he points up. “It is the only light here.”

  “But it’s still late morning,” Phil looks around, “and we are only a few yards from Chazaq. It is still morning,” he repeats, convincing himself.

  “We’re on a whole new plane egghead! Who knows?” Lesia plops down on the musty ground, slightly defeated. Phil and Chrissi wince at the nickname that has plagued Phil for most of his school career.

  “You know, that name cuts deep,” Phil says slightly under his breath with more anger than he thought he actually felt in this moment. Lesia stares at him and starts to retort.

  “Either way,” Kesil manages to say first, “Something tells me we are going to become fast friends with the moon here. We should continue. Right now, this is the only path.” Everyone looks around them as if to double check his deduction. Kesil squares his shoulders in defense. “Let’s go,” he orders and takes off down the grey, dirt path.

  The others quickly catch up with him and they all walk side-by-side. On either side of the spacious path are walls of tall trees, mostly green but sprinkled with dead leaves and branches, like life on the verge of death. Chrissi shutters and wrings her gloved hands together. Phil averts his eyes. Kesil’s eyes dart left and right in anxiety. Although his idea to find the Book, it is purely motivated by his desire to get everyone home rather than continue the journey. His uncle also told him of the great danger of the Book, how its words are merely tricks and often gave its reader the opposite of what they desire. However, Kesil sees this as his only chance and hopes to avoid the journey altogether to get Chrissi home before his “prophecy” comes to fruition. Chills run up his spine at the memory of the evening his parents let their secret slip a little.

  “It can’t get any worse,” the declaration slips through Kesil’s lips in a desperate attempt to alleviate his very fear that things could indeed become worse.

  “What?” Lesia asks with strained interest.

  “Oh, um, nothing.”

  Lesia sighs. Her steps become a little harder as she begins to pout again.

  ***

  “We’ve been walking for hours!” Lesia whines, breaking a deafening two-hour silence. “I’m tired, irritable, and done!”

  “You can’t be done. If you’re done, you stay here.” Phil gestures around and up at the dark, looming forest. Trees towers above them and low bushes rustle with invisible foes. “Forever.”

  “Phil!” Chrissi reproves. “Perhaps we can rest. I’m sure it has been a good day’s journey. What time is it?” she turns Phil’s wrist watch next to her so she can read the time. “8 p.m.”

  “Here’s a clearing we can rest in,” Kesil says pointing ahead. They had passed several small circular patches along the path, this was the biggest.

  “Great!” Lesia says sarcastically. She rushes to a spot on the opposite side of everyone else and snuggles down in between two trees, groaning the whole time. Phil and Chrissi sit down together and scrounge around in the bags Nahal gave them for food and cooking utensils.

  Kesil is left in the center of the clearing. His brow furrows and he sulks to another side, away from everyone else, and takes a seat. Emptying the contents of his own bag he begins to hum. He realizes the thing he misses most is not his parents or even his few friends, but the music he so often uses to escape it all. How he wishes he could escape this situation, that he never walked up to the group in the meadow at school, that he had possessed the strength to walk away from the lure of his family’s secret and the part that the curious Chrissi Camden plays within it.

  “What are y
ou humming?” Chrissi stands in front of him, startling him slightly.

  “Yes, whatever it is, stop,” Lesia says.

  Kesil smiles awkwardly up at Chrissi, “Just something random in my head I guess.”

  “It’s nice,” she smiles back. “What food do you have? We were thinking of starting dinner now…um…do you know how to start a fire?” she lowers her head in embarrassment. She and Phil are known as two of the smartest students in school but she knows when it comes to more practical things, they are rendered clueless. Kesil chuckles, feeling more relaxed—needed.

  “Sure.”

  ***

  “I’ve never eaten so much bread in my life!” Lesia lies back rubbing her stomach in minor pain.

  “Considering we’ve been walking for a whole day and will probably be doing the same tomorrow, I think you’ll be OK,” Phil says, annoyed. Lesia rolls her eyes and returns to her burrow on the other side of the clearing. “How about you ladies sleep and the men will keep watch for a few hours,” Phil suggests proudly, standing up and adjusting his posture to be straight and tall. Kesil snickers.

  “We haven’t seen any other form of life Phil, I hardly think we are in any danger,” Lesia says sleepily.

  “Yeah but we have heard rustling noises. Plus now it is nighttime in this eternally dark and creepy forest. Maybe everything comes out now!” he says. “We don’t know anything about this place. There can be stealthy ninja tribes watching us. Right. Now. Waiting for us to sleep so they can—”

  “Phil!” Chrissi yells.

  “Sorry,” he says flippantly to a cowering Lesia. “But it is true. Someone needs to keep watch. We have no knowledge of this Boundless Forest.”

  “I agree,” Kesil says gruffly. “Let the girls sleep. I’ll keep watch at this end and you can go to the other end of the path.”

  “Deal!” Phil exclaims jubilantly, excited for the prospect of adventure. “I’d like to see anything get passed me!” Everyone laughs, including Phil, and in the following moment of comfort and quite possibly budding friendship the girls close their eyes to rest on the hard, damp ground.