by Ted Dekker
Something like borrowing $100,000 from a loan shark to pay off Mother’s debt and start a new business. Given enough time, he would pay it back, but time wasn’t on their side.
Yes, the problem belonged to both of them now, didn’t it? What on earth would they do?
She considered waking him to make sure he was sound. Despite her dismissal earlier, this business of his vivid dream was unlike him. Thomas never did anything without careful consideration. He wasn’t given to fancy. His consideration might be quick and creative—even spontaneous—but he didn’t walk around speaking of hallucinations. The blow to his head had clearly affected his thinking.
What was he dreaming now?
She recalled their short transfer stateside when she was in tenth grade and he in eighth. He’d wandered around school like a lost puppy for the first two weeks, trying to fit in and failing. He was different and they all knew it. One of the football players—a junior linebacker with biceps larger than Thomas’s thighs—had called him a spineless-gook-Chinese-lover one afternoon, and Thomas had finally lost his cool. He’d put the boy in the hospital with a single kick. They left him alone after that, but he never made many friends.
He was so very strong during the days, but she could hear his soft cries late at night in the room next to hers. She’d come to his rescue then. In the years since, she’d thought maybe her dissociation with the all-American male had started then. She’d take her brother over a steroid-stuffed football player any day of the week.
Kara stepped forward, leaned over, and kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, Thomas,” she whispered. “We’ll get out of this. We always have.”
Thomas stood in the clearing and looked at the two white creatures. They were odd to be sure, with their furry white bodies and thin legs. The wings weren’t made of feathers, but of skin, like a bat’s wings, white like the rest of their bodies.
All familiar, but only oddly so.
“The black bats,” he said. “I dreamed black bats chased me from the forest.”
“That was no dream,” Gabil replied in an excited tone. “No sir! You were lucky I came along when I did.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t . . . I can’t quite remember what’s going on.”
The two creatures studied him with blank stares. “You don’t remember anything?” Michal asked.
“No. I mean, yes, I remember being chased. But I hit my head on a rock last night and I was knocked out.” He paused and tried to think of the best way to explain his disorientation. “I can’t remember anything before I hit my head.”
“Then you’ve lost your memory,” Michal said. He waddled forward. “You do realize where you are?”
Thomas stepped back instinctively and the creature stopped. “Well . . . actually not entirely. Sort of, but not really.” He rubbed his head. “I must have really bumped my head.”
“Well then. What do you know?” Michal asked.
“I know that my name is Thomas Hunter. I somehow got into the black forest with someone named Bill, but I fell and smashed my head on a rock. Bill drank the water and just wandered—”
“You saw him drink the water?” Michal demanded.
“Yes, he definitely drank the water.”
“Hmm.”
Thomas waited for him to explain his reaction, but the creature just waved him on. “Go ahead. What then?”
“Then I saw you”—he looked at Gabil—“and I ran.”
“That’s all? Nothing more?”
“No. Except my dreams. I remember my dreams.”
They waited expectantly.
“You want to know my dreams?”
“Yes,” Michal said.
“Well, they make no sense. Completely different from this. Crazy stuff.”
“Well then. Tell us this crazy stuff.”
Denver. His sister, Kara. The mob. A fully formed world with amazing detail. He told the creatures the gist of it all in a long run-on sentence, but he felt self-conscious telling them his dreams, no matter how vivid they had seemed. Why would they want to know his dreams anyway? The creatures looked at him, unblinking, absorbing his brief tale without reacting.
They and the colored forest behind them were perfectly normal. He just couldn’t remember them.
“That’s all?” Michal asked when he’d finished.
“Mostly.”
“I didn’t think anyone but the wise ones knew the histories so vividly,” Gabil said.
“What histories?”
“You don’t know what the histories are?” Michal asked. “You’re speaking about them as if you know them well enough.”
“You mean my dreams of Denver are real?”
“Of course.” Michal waddled in the direction the woman had run, then turned back. “I don’t know about your running around with men in hot pursuit, but the histories of ancient Earth are real. Yes, of course they are. Everyone knows about them.” He paused and looked at Thomas with skepticism. “You honestly don’t know what I’m talking about?”
Thomas blinked and looked at the colored forest. The tree trunks glowed. So very foreign, yet so familiar.
“No,” he said, rubbing his temples. “I just can’t seem to think straight.”
“Well, you seem to be thinking quite straight when it comes to the histories. They’re an oral tradition, passed on in each of the villages by the storytellers. Denver, New York—everything you dreamed about is taken from the histories roughly two thousand years ago.”
Gabil hopped sideways like a bird. “The histories!”
Michal cast a side glance at the other as if impatient. “My dear friend, I do believe you have a classic case of amnesia, though I can’t understand why the water didn’t heal that as well. The black forest has sent you into a state of shock—no surprise there. Now you’re dreaming that you live in a world that existed thousands of years ago where you’re being chased by men with ill intent. Your mind has created a detailed dream using what you know about the histories. Fascinating, really.”
“Utterly fascinating!” Gabil said.
Another glance from Michal.
“But if I lost my memory, why would I remember the histories?” Thomas objected. “It’s almost as if I know more about these histories than I do about . . . you.”
“As I said, amnesia,” Michal explained. “The mind is an amazing thing, isn’t it? Selective memory loss. It seems you can remember only certain things, like the histories. You’re hallucinating. You’re dreaming of the histories. Reasonable enough. I’m sure the condition will pass. As I said, you’ve been through quite a shock, not to mention the knock to your head.”
Made sense. “Just a dream. Hallucinations because I’ve knocked my head senseless.”
“In my estimation,” Michal said.
“So . . . what’s the difference between this Earth and the one I dream about? What’s changed?”
“Well, everything. It’s practically another reality, through technically simply the past. In the other place, the histories, the forces of good and evil could not be seen. Only their effects. But here, both good and evil are more . . . intimate. As you experienced with the black bats. An incomplete differentiation, but simple enough, wouldn’t you say, Gabil?”
“I would say, simple enough.”
“Well then, there you have it.”
The explanation didn’t seem quite so simple to Thomas, but he let it suffice. A single word suddenly popped into his mind. Horde. He spoke it without thinking.
“Horde. What’s that mean?”
“Horde?” Michal repeated. “It means nothing. Well, I take that back. In the histories there was once a Mongol Horde. An army that roamed China, I believe. Perhaps that’s what you’re thinking of.”
“Yeah.” But Thomas wasn’t sure. “What happened to ancient Earth?”
“Oh dear, now you ask too much,” Michal said, turning. “That story is not so simple. We would have to start with the great virus at the beginning of the twenty-first century—�
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“The French,” Gabil cut in. “The Raison Strain.”
“Not really the French,” Michal said. “A Frenchman, yes, but you can’t say it was . . . never mind. They thought it was a good thing, a vaccine, but it mutated under intense heat and became a virus. The whole business ravaged the entire population of Earth in a matter of three short weeks—”
“Less than three,” Gabil inserted. “Less than three weeks.”
“—and opened the door to the Deception.”
“The Great Deception,” Gabil said.
“Yes, the Great Deception.” Michal gave his friend a let-me-tell-the-story look. “From there we would have to move on to the time of the tribulations and wars. It would take a full day to tell you how ancient Earth saw the end and how then man was reborn. Sort of a take two, as they might say in the histories. Clearly you don’t know all of your history, do you?”
“Obviously not.”
“Perhaps your mind has inserted itself at a particular point and is stuck there. The mind, a wonderfully tricky thing, you know?”
Thomas nodded.
“How do I know this isn’t the dream?” he asked.
Both creatures blinked.
“I mean, isn’t it possible? In the Denver place I have a sister and a history, and things are really happening. Here I can’t remember a thing.”
“Clearly you have amnesia,” Michal said. “You don’t think my easily excited friend here and I are real? That isn’t grass under your feet, or oxygen passing through your lungs?”
“I’m not saying that . . .”
“You’ve lost your memory, Thomas Hunter, if that’s indeed your real name. I would guess it’s the name from your dreams—they used double names in ancient Earth. But it’ll do until we can figure out who you really are.”
“We can see you,” chirped Gabil. “You’re no dream, Thomas!”
“So you really can’t remember anything about this place?” Michal asked. “The lake, the Shataiki? Us?”
“No, I can’t. I really can’t.”
Michal sighed. “Well, then I suppose we’ll have to fill you in. But where to start?”
“With us,” Gabil, the shorter one, said. “We are mighty warriors with frightening strength.” He strutted to Thomas’s right on his short, spindly legs, like a furry Easter egg with wings. A huge white baby chick. Tweety on steroids. “You saw how I sent the black bats flying for cover! I have a thousand stories that I could—”
“We are Roush,” Michal interrupted.
“Yes, of course,” Gabil said. “Roush. Mighty warriors.”
“Some of us are evidently mightier warriors than others,” Michal said with a wink.
“Mighty, mighty warriors,” said Gabil.
“Servants of Elyon. And you, of course, are a man. We are on Earth. You know none of this? It seems quite elementary.”
“What about the man who drank the water?” Thomas asked. “Bill.”
“Bill was no man. If he was a man and he drank the forbidden water, we would probably all be dead by now. He was a figment of your imagination, probably formed by the Shataiki to lure you to the water. Surely you remember the forbidden water.”
Thomas paced and shook his head. “I’m telling you, I don’t know anything! I don’t know what water is forbidden, or what water is drinkable, or who these Shataiki bats are, or who the woman was.” He stopped. “Or what she meant when she said she’s chosen me.”
“Forgive me. It’s not that I doubt you can’t remember anything; it’s just very strange to talk to someone who’s lost his memory. I am what they call a wise one—the only wise one in this part of the forest. I have perfect memory. Dear, dear. This is going to be interesting, isn’t it? Rachelle has chosen a man with no memory.”
Gabil smiled wide. “How romantic!”
Romantic?
“Gabil finds nearly everything romantic. He secretly wants to be a man. Or perhaps a woman, I think.”
The smaller Roush didn’t argue.
“At any rate, I suppose we should start with the very basics then. Follow me.” Michal headed toward the sound of the rushing water. “Come, come.”
Thomas followed. The thick carpet of grass silenced his footfalls. It didn’t thin out under the trees but ran heavy and lush right through. Violet and lavender flowers with petals the size of his hand stood knee-high, scattered about the forest floor. No debris or dead branches littered the ground, making walking surprisingly easy for the two Roush hopping ahead of him.
Thomas lifted his eyes to the tall trees shining their soft colors about him. Most seemed to glow with one predominant color, like cyan or magenta or yellow, accented by the other colors of the rainbow. How could the trees glow? It was as if they were powered by some massive underground genera-tor that powered fluorescent chemicals in large tubes made to look like trees. No, that was technology from ancient Earth.
He ran his hand gently across the surface of a large ruby tree with a purple hue, surprised at how smooth it was, as if it had no bark at all. He took in the tree’s full height. Breathtaking.
Michal cleared his throat and Thomas jerked his hand from the tree.
“Just ahead,” the Roush said.
“Just a moment more,” Gabil piped in.
They exited the forest less than fifty yards from the meadow, on the banks of the river. The white bridge he’d stumbled over spanned flowing water. On the far side, the black forest. Tall trees lined the bank as far as he could see in either direction. Behind the trees, deep, dark shadows. The memory of them sent a wave of nausea through Thomas’s gut.
Not a black bat in sight.
Michal stopped and faced him. He might not be the more excitable of the two Roush, but at the moment he was eager enough to take on the role of teacher. He stretched one wing toward the black forest and spoke with authority.
“That is the black forest. Do you remember it?”
“Of course. I was in it, remember?”
“Yes, I do remember that you were in it. I’m not the one with the memory problem. I was just double-checking so as to give us a common point of reference.”
“The black forest is the place where the Shataiki live!” Gabil said.
“If you don’t mind, I’m telling the story here,” Michal said.
“Of course I don’t mind.”
“Now. This river you see runs around the whole planet. It separates the green forest from the black forest.” He absently flipped his wing in the direction of the far bank. “That’s the black forest. The only way into the black forest from this side is over one of three Crossings.” He pointed to the white bridge. “The river runs too fast to swim, you see? No one would dare attempt to cross except over one of the bridges. Do you follow?”
“Yes.”
“Good. And you can remember what I just told you, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Your memory was wiped clean, but it seems to be working with any new data. Now.” He paced and stroked his chin with delicate fingers on the underside of his right wing. “There are many other men, women, and children in many villages throughout the green forest. Over a million now live on Earth. You likely stumbled into the black forest over one of the other two Crossings on the far side and then were chased here by the Shataiki.”
“How do you know I don’t come from nearby?”
“Because, as the wise one given charge over this section of the forest, I would know you. I don’t.”
“And I am the mighty warrior who led you from the black forest,” Gabil said.
“Yes, and Gabil is the mighty warrior who cavorts with Tanis in all kinds of imagined battles.”
“Tanis? Who’s Tanis?” Thomas asked.
Michal sighed. “Tanis is the firstborn of all men. You will meet him. He lives in the village. Now, Elyon, who created everything you see and all creatures, has touched all of the water. You see the green color of the river? That is the color of Elyon. It’s why your eyes are green.
It’s also why your body was healed the moment the water touched it.”
“You poured water on me?”
“No, not I—”
“Rachelle!” Gabil blurted out.
“Rachelle poured the water over you. Trust me, it’s not the first time you’ve touched his water.” Michal’s cheeks bunched into a soft smile. “But we’ll get—”
“Rachelle has chosen you—”
“Gabil! Please!”
“Yes, of course.” The smaller Roush didn’t seem at all put off by Michal’s chiding.
Michal went on. “As I was saying, we’ll get to the Great Romance later. Now, the black forest is where evil is confined. You see, good”—he pointed to the green forest—“and evil.” He pointed to the black forest. “No one is permitted to drink the water in the black forest. If they do, the Shataiki will be released to have their way with the colored forest. It would be a slaughter.”
“The water in the black forest is evil?” Thomas asked. “I touched it—”
“Not evil. Not any more evil than the colored trees are good. Evil and good reside in the heart, not in trees and water. But by custom, water is given as an invitation. Elyon invites with water. The black Shataiki invite with their water.”
“And Rachelle invited you with water,” Gabil said.
“Yes. In a moment, Gabil,” Michal said. But the more stately Roush couldn’t hide a slight smile. “For many years, the people have agreed not to cross the river as a matter of precaution. Very wise, if you ask me.” The Roush paused and looked about. “That is the heart of it. There are a thousand other details, but hopefully they will return to you in short order.”
“Except for the Great Romance,” Gabil said. “And Rachelle.”
“Except for the Great Romance, which I will let Gabil tell you about, since he’s so eager.”
Gabil didn’t miss a beat. “She’s chosen you, Thomas! Rachelle has. It is her choice and now it’s yours. You will pursue her and woo her and win her as only you can.” He grinned delightedly.
Thomas waited for Gabil to continue. The creature just kept grinning.
“I’m sorry,” Thomas said. “I don’t see the significance. I don’t even know her.”