Shaun withdrew upstairs. Kakko could be cruel sometimes. She had no sensitivity. But, as always – well, mostly – she was right. Both about Wennai and about his sleeping. The problem with Wennai was that she didn’t believe there was a God, and that mattered to Shaun – or at least it used to. He was finding that praying was getting increasingly difficult. He didn’t blame God for this, he was just so… so mixed up and tired. He couldn’t forget that gun in his face and the mocking words of the man behind it as he prepared to blast him into oblivion. And then the shock of seeing the soldier die instead – right there in front of him. But, he told himself, he was going to conquer this – it was just a matter of time. He didn’t need all this female help, not from his sister, or his mother, or his nan, and certainly not Wennai whose solution to losing her own mother had been to deny God altogether.
The following morning, Shaun woke refreshed. He hadn’t dreamed of the roadside terror and the sounds of guns for once. See, he told himself, I’m getting better. It would soon be the Festival of Light and Christmas in the cottage. That will drive away any lingering demons, he thought.
The next thing he was aware of was that a white gate had been spotted. If his name was on it, he was ready for the first time ever to face up to God and turn Him down. He couldn’t cope with another challenging adventure. But it wasn’t for him, or Kakko. It was for his parents and little Yeka.
***
“This place is dark. I mean darker than night-time,” said Jalli, shivering. She, Jack and Yeka had stepped through a white gate wearing a set of nondescript grey clothes that the Creator had provided. In the garden of White Gates Cottage, it had been a delicious bright morning. Daan had been sending beams of light that made the dew on the grass sparkle like little diamonds, and a morning chorus of birdsong had filled the air. Yeka had found a grey bag containing colourful jelly beans – every colour of the rainbow – alongside her grey clothes. The bag was large but not too large for her to insist on carrying it herself.
“For me!” She pounced.
“For you to take through the gate. Don’t eat any now,” said Jalli softly.
“Aw.” Yeka pouted.
This side of the gate they were stopped by a smothering wall of darkness; it was like walking into a place of deep nothingness that permeated even the brain.
Jack had lived in a sightless world for more than half his life but he too felt the oppressiveness of this place.
“It’s more than the absence of light,” he said. “It’s… heavy.”
“I don’t like it!” whined Yeka clutching her bag of jelly beans. “I want to go home!”
But the white gate behind them had faded and there was no retreat.
“God, are you in this place?” prayed Jalli with her mouth and heart.
In her heart she knew His presence but her spoken word seemed to be stifled – out there, everything seemed dead.
“This is a nowhere place,” mewed Yeka. “I want to go home!”
“It’s not a nowhere place if Mummy and Daddy are here, Yeka. Give your mummy a cuddle. And the Creator is inside you – always. She’ll never ever let you go.” She lifted Yeka into her arms and Jack embraced them both.
They felt their way forward towards a place where the black admitted a streak of grey. There didn’t seem to be much else to do. There must be something in the direction of the slightest sign of light. After a while the greyness grew light enough to see people walking about. They were in a street in mid-winter – but it was unlike anywhere on Planet Earth they had heard about.
“It’s like the darkest time of the year when the clouds are really heavy,” suggested Jalli.
“Like Christmastime when the sun doesn’t shine,” said Jack.
“Yes. Only, here there are no artificial lights to break the dullness. There is absolutely nothing bright in this place at all. Even the people are all dressed in grey.”
“Like us,” observed Yeka.
“Yes, exactly like us,” agreed her mother.
They walked along and joined the groups of grey-clad people. After a while some of the people looked at them but said nothing. They occasionally talked to each other but in subdued tones. Soon even Yeka felt that if she spoke she must do it in a whisper.
“This place is horrible. It’s yuk. Where is God? Why won’t She let us back into our garden?”
“Not for the moment, Yeka. Look, I think you can have a sweet now.”
Yeka opened the bag. The colourful jelly beans positively glowed in this place.
“Um, I think I will have… I will have…” she mused as she decided which colour to try first.
Jalli saw some of the people were staring at them. She grew embarrassed.
“Yeka, just take one and close the bag.”
Yeka chose a yellow one and licked it. But it was too late; some children had already seen what Yeka had in her bag and one of the braver little boys strode across, followed by some of his friends. He looked at the bag and then at Yeka. Yeka held out the bag and whispered, “Would you like one?”
The lad gazed at her cautiously.
“It’s OK,” she said instinctively, “they’re really nice.” And she smiled as she chewed.
The lad took a red one and, looking around furtively, popped it into his mouth. Then four others came over and did the same. Jalli thought she detected a flicker of a sparkle in their eyes and a doubtful smile on their faces. Up to this point the children had looked as dull and serious as their grown-ups.
The children, grouped together, attracted the attention of one of the adults who came across to see what was going on. As soon as she saw the colourful sweets, she grabbed her child out of the group.
“Do you want to get us all in trouble?” she demanded angrily under her breath. Then, looking up at Jack and Jalli, she said tersely, “If you don’t care about your own child, you have no right getting us all arrested.” Then she swept her son away.
Soon, children were scattering in every direction and melting into the passing traffic, leaving Yeka and her mother and father exposed in the centre of the street but an elderly couple came up to them and whispered, “Better put your food away, little girl. It’s not safe here… You her parents?”
“Yes,” answered Jalli firmly. “She is only sharing her sweets.”
“You don’t come from around here, do you?”
“No.”
“Come with me. Better get off the street in case someone has reported you. The authorities have their spies everywhere.”
Jack had been listening carefully, taking in the situation.
“Jalli, I think we should accept this kind lady’s offer.”
“Yes. Thank you,” said Jalli.
The old couple led them down a number of side streets and alleys and eventually into a small house.
“It isn’t much but they won’t think about looking for you here. We weren’t followed were we, Hann?”
“No, I don’t think so, Jodwa. We would have noticed them when we doubled back and went down Narrow Place.”
“Good. Now then, sit down and make yourselves comfortable. Would you like something to drink? What about the little lady?”
Yeka looked up at her mother. Jalli nodded.
“Thank you. We don’t wish to impose—”
“Nonsense.” She gave Yeka a grey mug containing a murky liquid. Yeka looked at it doubtfully.
“It’s my special cordial. It’s fine. Ignore the colour. Watch.” Jodwa poured some into a mug for herself, sipped it and smiled broadly.
Yeka smelled and tasted. “Nice!” she declared.
“Good. Now, tell us. Where do you come from? And how did you manage to find those lovely sweets?”
Jack and Jalli explained about the white gates in the way they had become accustomed to whenever they arrived somewhere different.
“So you see, we were given these sweets for a purpose. We don’t know what that is but Yeka is by nature generous. It just seemed right to her to share them.
”
“Good,” smiled Jodwa. “Hann, they have no idea about us and our situation. We’d better start from the beginning.”
Hann had been checking through the window. No-one had come near the house. “Yes,” he began; “do you know about the anti-colour laws?”
“Is that a racial thing?” asked Jack.
“The colour of our skin? Like you are pale and your wife is dark? No. You can’t change that. They do not legislate concerning skin colour.”
“They would if you had bright blue or pink or vibrant yellow skin,” said his wife.
“But no-one has, have they? No. It is about the using of colourful things. Everyone must wear a shade of grey – and the duller the grey, the better. For the last fifty years, colour reproduction has been banned. All photography and art has to be monochrome. All homes must be painted grey – pure white or black is permitted in only small quantities. No enhanced colouring can be added to food. Music cannot be colourful – nothing that leads to dancing… So you can appreciate the impact your colourful sweets made.”
“As you may have gathered, I am blind – totally blind,” said Jack solemnly, “but even I can detect the colourlessness of your world. Why these laws?”
“Seventy years ago,” began Jodwa, “our culture was brimming with colour. I can remember it. It was so vibrant. But many people were selfish and pleasure seeking. They exploited the planet without regard for its beauty or its sanctity. They were ignoring its Creator and abusing His gifts. They were using colour and music for their own ill-conceived self-gratification. People were suffering from corruption and there was a spreading poverty. The poor were rebellious and when a group of religious people came into focus calling people back to God, promising universal equality and freedom under Him, they responded and rose up against the establishment. There were riots in which the rich people with their colourful stuff were thrown out. Soon the religious purists were in power and they ordered the big houses to be broken up into apartments. They banned all the dancing and the light-hearted partying that the rich people had enjoyed. It took twenty years, until eventually, fifty years ago, the colour laws were passed. Since then, no colour has been permitted under pain of imprisonment. There is a special police force that is deployed to enforce them – and they do.”
“From one excess to another,” said Jalli.
“That’s the way of it. You’ll have to be careful,” said Hann firmly. “I don’t know what your creator is playing at but it’s dangerous to do what you have done.”
“What about religious festivals?” wondered Jack. “Is colour and music allowed there?”
“There are no festivals anymore.”
“What? None at all? Don’t you even celebrate your birthdays?”
“Shh!” Hann continued in a hushed voice. “We keep our voices down. You never know who is listening. We used to but now birthday celebrations are forbidden. Every day, we are taught, is as special as any other – and celebrating birthdays leads to inequality.”
“What about God? We celebrate Christmas when—”
“Twistmas!” bounced Yeka. “I want my Twistmas twee… Can’t we go home now?” She dragged at her mother’s arm, pulling her toward the door.
“Yeka, don’t be rude,” commanded Jalli.
Hann bent down, smiled at Yeka and said quietly, “Tell me about this Twistmas… Only, around here it has to be a secret, so whisper it.”
Yeka stopped tugging. “Twistmas is when…” she looked up at her mother, “baby Jesus?”
“Yes, Yeka, that’s right,” said Jalli.
“On Planet Earth where Bandi is, and Abby, and where Daddy came from, God borned baby Jesus. So we have a big tree – inside the house – and put lights on it and shiny bright balls – I like the pink ones best – and things, and sweets… and then we have presents. Abby has brought mine from Planet Earth and it’s all wrapped up in paper with a big man in a red coat drawn all over it. And she brought tinz… tinz… sparkly stuff like long spaghetti with soft shiny yellow feathers… And—”
“It sounds like a very exciting thing, this Twistmas,” whispered Hann. Yeka was getting more and more animated and louder as she went.
“Yes, and—” began Yeka again.
“Christmas is a wonderful time for children,” said Jack softly. “And my little daughter here can see the contrast between your world and hers. I can understand where your government is coming from, though. There are a lot of people who miss out on things on Earth who find Christmas painful.”
“By making life painful and dull for everyone?” said Jalli. “That is no solution. I saw the longing in those children’s eyes. You cannot pretend that light and colour don’t exist—”
But Jalli never got to finish her sentence. She was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door.
“Police! Open up!”
“The sweets – hide them!” commanded Hann in a whisper.
Jodwa took the bag from Yeka and dropped it in among a pile of logs beside the hearth.
There was a second rap.
“I’m coming!” shouted Hann.
He opened the door and three policemen in dark-grey uniforms stood looking stern.
“What can I do for you?” said Hann with a feigned look of surprise.
“You have been reported as harbouring a child with coloured candy.” He strode over the threshold without being invited.
“I’m sorry, officer, there is only this small child here – and as you can see, she has no candy other than what we make here… Besides, where would she come by that sort of thing? We could not colour candy even if we wanted to.”
“Would you want to?” barked the officer.
“Why? Sweet stuff is made to eat. As the government says, colour would distract you when you ate it,” answered Jodwa, politely.
“You all live here?” continued the leading policeman, picking up a colourless glass vase and examining it.
Jack was not going to let these generous people get into trouble for being kind to them. He answered promptly before Hann or Jodwa could speak.
“No, officer. My wife, child and I are visiting.”
“From where?”
“Our friends come from White Gates… beyond the mountains,” cut in Hann. “Our friendship extends over time.”
The officer kicked around a bit as he made up his mind whether or not to order his men to conduct a search. Colour is pretty easy to spot in a grey-scale world. Besides, there was no evidence beyond that of one person’s reports. If sweets had been coloured, they were probably all eaten in any case. He decided to terminate his enquiries – the raid had served its purpose of reminding people that they were being watched and must adhere strictly to the law. It was a known fact that some people would be tempted to change things if given a chance – and the government could not risk that.
“You are aware that even though you may come from beyond the mountains, you are subject to the law,” he addressed Jack brusquely. Then he looked him in the eyes. “Are you blind?”
“Yes,” answered Jack matter-of-factly.
“How do you know if your family are complying with the colour laws?”
“The use of colour changes more than appearance. I would be aware of the behavioural differences that would cause.”
“Good. It is behaviour that matters…” He stared at Yeka who shrunk into her mother’s skirts. Then he looked up with a false smile. “I think we can leave these people to their fellowshipping,” he said brightly. “Come, men, we have work to do.” And he left the house without another word.
Hann invited his guests to sit again.
“Sorry about that,” he said quietly. “That was too close for comfort.”
“What would they have done if—”
“If they found any coloured candy?” said Jodwa. “Arrested us all. Many people have been known to have been taken to the Off-white House never to be seen again.”
“Just taken away?” asked Jalli in whisper. “Where do they take
them?”
“No-one knows. They just disappear. We expect they are executed.”
“For having something coloured?”
“For inciting rebellion. Tomorrow you must return ‘beyond the mountains’.”
“Our white gate was no longer visible when we left the street…” said Jalli slowly. “I am not sure if we have achieved anything here yet.”
“What do you intend to do? Stir up the people? We are not powerful enough to overthrow the government. It would just make the authorities more oppressive than ever. They know only one way to keep us in our places. A chink of light, a blast of colour and we gain strength and hope.”
Yeka was now curled up on her father’s lap and sliding off to the land of dreams.
“I think the little lady has had a busy day. We can offer you one large bed in the guest room for the night. Tomorrow you can search for your white gate.”
“Thank you,” said Jalli. “That is very kind of you.”
“We are honoured. You have brought more hope than we have had in a decade. The sweets are just a sign that all is not drab in the rest of the universe.”
“Far from it,” smiled Jack. “I know what colour does to children. It excites them. I spoke truthfully. It is not difficult to be aware of the joy my children express when they encounter their Christmas tree.”
“Twistmas,” said Yeka sleepily. “Twistmas tree. I want to go home.”
“Tomorrow,” soothed her mother. “Tonight we have to bring joy into this house. Would you like to share a big bed with Mummy and Daddy?”
“Yes.” Yeka was aware of this being a very big treat.
“Come on then, little lady, we’ll go to bed together.”
“We are honoured to have you, our friends across time. I will show you to the guest room… I’m afraid the decoration is rather dull.”
The Spark (White Gates Adventures Book 4) Page 11