The Light Bringer's Way

by C. F. Fruzzetti

  “It’s the best I could do. I know this is not easy for you,” Dr. West said, not meeting my glare. “It will take you under the Niger River and get you to Bongo in less than hour.”

  The tangy smell of mineral and rock pervaded the air. The temperature was much cooler as we approached the cave’s floor. The rest of my team was loading up their belongings into a cargo car at the back of the trolley.

  He gently grabbed my arm. “Can you do it?”

  “Of course I CAN do it. I will probably not enjoy the ride seeing how I hate roller coasters and am claustrophobic, but I will survive it.”

  “I didn’t know you hated roller coasters. Sorry about that, Wink.” Dr. West looked worriedly at the trolley and I realized he must have known I hated to feel trapped underground. Tiembo unlatched the metal doors and everyone else climbed inside. Blair had a smile of anticipation and excitement.

  “The trolley passage was constructed by Cloccans. The caverns are enormous and thousands of years old. It is completely safe.” Dr. West fumbled to try to make me feel better. It was pointless. Sometimes the road to a destination was tough and that’s when it was time to prove you were mentally tougher. I accepted my reality and took a deep breath. I had to get on the trolley so I adjusted my backpack with resolve, but before I could climb aboard Dr. West hugged me tight. He looked me in the eye and told me he would see me soon and I knew he meant it. The smell of his cologne faded as I climbed into my seat next to Reid, who was relaxed and ready to depart. I felt the exact opposite.

  Tiembo turned around to make sure we were in our seats. “Ready? If you need them, there are handles to hold on to on either side of the doors.” The fact that we might need handles made my hands start to sweat. For us to get to Bongo so quickly we would need to pick up speed and since Tiembo did not turn on a motor I assumed we would use kinetic energy—and that meant we would have to drop.

  Blair turned around and gave me a worried glance. I shook my head to dismiss her concern because there was nothing for it. “You’ll be fine,” she weakly said. Tiembo unlocked the brake and I grabbed Reid’s hand.

  He wrinkled his brow, perplexed. “What is it?” Reid asked as we started to move. He could feel my hand was clammy and it alarmed him further that I could not answer him. It took every ounce of my energy to mentally focus on not letting my nervous system fray into panic.

  The breeze picked up as we started to descend and I tried to steel myself for the miserable feeling of negative gravity. I closed my eyes and the next second Reid was in my mind. I was able to convey to him my need to meditate out of the experience. In the distance of my mind, he found the memory of my dad going into Saint Margaret’s cave and the whirling sound that came in my ears and the crushing feeling in my chest.

  “Oh, right. You’re naturally claustrophobic. Anyone connected with the Albus clan usually is, you know. Cloccans utilize the energy of the earth so we are comfortable in caves but it can feel smothering to anyone who is Albus…” Reid whispered into my ear.

  The sound of his voice made me feel steady even though I knew we were going to plummet. I heard Blair gasp and I tightened my grip on Reid’s hand as the track beneath us felt like it had disappeared.

  Chapter Nine: Grounded

  Other people experienced a fun rush and a silly tickle as they rode a roller coaster because they did not hang in air time the way I did. Negative gravity created a strong upward pull for me that made me feel there was a good chance I would not come back down. Consequently, the ride was frightening and painful.

  Reid was calling my name somewhere inside my head and I could feel him distantly flipping through images in my mind trying to find a way to reconnect with me. It helped me focus my concentration as I mentally attempted to catch up and wrench myself back into the trolley.

  “What’s wrong?” Reid yelled as he shook my shoulder. There was a desperate edge to his voice. The last thing I wanted was for him to tell Tiembo to hit the brake. We would lose our speed and then we would have to do it all over again. I forced myself to open my eyes. There was no denying the trolley was plummeting downward as I noticed the rocks and boulders jutting out from the walls of Earth panning by us. It was disconcerting because my conscious state lingered several hundred feet up in the air. I tried to embrace the stretch of disconnection by tunneling my vision and focusing on something small and immediate in the car.

  There was a small humming noise and I saw aerodynamic windows rising from inside the metal doors. It was shockingly state-of-the-art. My coping technique helped me look more normal. At least I thought it did since Reid did not seem so freaked out now. He didn’t know the whiplash from the hang time had not hit me yet. I could study the trolley until then, I told myself, and we would be too far into the journey to stop.

  The interior was secure and well designed. I noticed the ergonomic handles were within easy reach and the bucket seats were comfortable and kept us in place. The black floor material was springy and soft like cork. Overall, the trolley was as quiet and smooth as a well-appointed luxury car. I recalled Dr. West had said it was Cloccan designed as if that was supposed to make me feel better, and I was starting to see why.

  I reminded myself of the time Reid had mentioned he drove his BMW because of its engineering, not the status. At the time, I thought he had said it because he didn’t want me to think he was a snob. The context of his remark meant more to me as pieces of his Cloccan ties fell into place. In fact, I could see the Cloccan influences everywhere: the technological luxury of Sanctuary, his elite BMW convertible with a customized glove compartment, his specially outfitted Range Rover, and even his custom Breitling watch that cleverly contained epinephrine. He had Cloccan machines or devices with him at all times.

  Exhibit A, I thought to myself as I glanced at the large watch strapped on his wrist. It must be nice to be outfitted by those who valued such precision and performance. Then I noticed the tiny second hand was not moving and that was odd. It was a pulse-activated watch and Reid was very much alive. Something wasn’t right.

  Bam. My neck and upper body jolted forward. It felt like I had been rammed with a car from behind. It knocked the wind out of me and shook my focus. My eyes saw the enormous cavern walls of rock blurry and looming over me.

  “Whitney, what just happened?” Reid’s voice was demanding and he held fast to my shoulder. I could not answer even though I could hear his voice inside my head getting louder and more frantic. For a second, my mind was scrambled. Then it was clear again.

  My dazed eyes found his face. It was tense with fear; I had scared him again. I did not know how much he absorbed from me, but it made me self-conscious. I looked away, uncomfortable and hoping he would not press me. No luck. He held my chin with his hand so he could look me squarely in the eye. “Are you all right?”

  I returned his stare and he could tell I was fully present. Even though I was not full of explanations, it was enough. He calmed down and took my cold and clammy hand. “A little warning next time would be nice. I saw the memory of you riding the Rebel Yell with Blair but I did not understand it. I have to admit, I thought you were just a chicken. But I should have known that would have been too…um, you know, normal.”

  I managed a smile, recalling how roller coasters and hang time had terrified me at first, and that was a mistake. It kept me from dealing with the situation. This time, I knew I would have to think, adapt, and adjust. Adversity was an excellent teacher as long as fear did not get in the way of making smart choices.

  The track leveled out and banked toward the massive wall of rock in a wide S curve. We headed straight toward the wall until we dipped at the last second. Floodlights illuminated the expansive chamber we had entered and spectacular rock formations shimmered and glistened along the walls. Some of the rocks appeared translucent in the light. Blair pointed to a formation that looked as if it was made of folded cloth. Stalactites and stalagmites formed magnificent columns as they met each other in the space of the cavern. We all star
ed in amazement. I realized this was why I heard Blair gasp earlier—it was not the drop but the captivating beauty of the underground world.

  “Wow,” I said aloud, and looked at Reid to see his reaction. He was enjoying the view and had a subdued smile of pride. This was part of Reid’s world and I lightly squeezed his hand as a show of my appreciation. I had a better understanding of why his ancestor Saint Margaret had been drawn to her cave in Scotland: it was the physical embodiment of the abyss of meditation. Here, everything else fell away.

  Reid’s shoulders finally relaxed. My genuine response of wonderment put Reid more at ease than any adamant words I could have spoken. He was reassured I was actually all right.

  We rocketed through the labyrinth of rock eroded away by water. Mr. Parks once said the softest things in the world overcame the toughest things in the world. I was beginning to understand the wisdom of his words as we rapidly reached the Bongo platform. It blended into the landscape except for the parking dock for the trolley. The entire platform was a mechanical lift, and it was not until we were on top of the platform that I realized this was so the track would not be visible if someone accidentally discovered the cavern.

  “Tiembo, how does the trolley get back to Timbuktu? Is it motorized?” Blair asked as the lift locked into place on the floor. I smiled. Blair would love one of these trolleys to zoom us to and from practice.

  “No. The trolley is silent transportation. We do not want the wrong people to exploit it so we keep its existence imperceptible. When we can’t use gravity to go north, we use a magnetic system for propulsion,” Tiembo explained. I noticed he said north—and not just to Timbuktu. I wondered how far the track went. Then I wondered how many more of them were all over the world.

  “We are a short distance from the village. You are all Peace Corps tourists and I am your guide. Tomorrow, we will meet with the spiritual leader of the Dogon, called the Hogon. I am told you have private business with him. Please remember, no one is allowed to touch the Hogon. That is our custom.” Tiembo unlocked a heavy steel door that was camouflaged in stone on the outward-facing side. Right next to it was a smaller door, outlined in red.

  “Tiembo, is there a separate door for children?” I went up to the smaller door and traced the top of it with my finger. The red color was so unusual that I wanted to see what created it.

  Patrick, Blair, and Reid looked at me like I was delusional. Tiembo smiled at me and answered, “That door is for the Tellem people.”

  “Tellem?” I echoed. I wished someone had given me a biography or at least a dossier on all these groups of secret or hidden people. I thought I had come to Mali well prepared but had been proven wrong at regular intervals today.

  “Yes. They are not children but people small in stature. The Tellem are pygmies who have red skin from working deep in the mines in this area. They are uniquely suited to the mines because they never fall. Their sense of balance allows them no fear of heights or of precarious depths and, if they fall, rumor has it that they can use sound to levitate. Do not look so pensive, Whitney. You will probably never see a Tellem person in your life. They prefer to remain reclusive and their only connection to the outside world is through the Cloccans,” Tiembo explained as he led us through a narrow passage that opened into the wide mouth of a cave. The heavy stone door locked behind us with a faint click.

  Diana said tribes that liked to remain reclusive often did so because they had the power to remain independent. The Tellem might have more to do with hiding the spear than the Dogon, I thought to myself. I wondered if the Dogon had carried the spear from Egypt to the Tellem to hide in exchange for information and knowledge about the solar system. In the area around Timbuktu, where knowledge was wealth and power, it would grant the Dogon assimilation.

  I kept my thoughts to myself because it was simply a hunch. Blair would want proof and Reid would be skeptical. Patrick distracted me by asking Tiembo if it would be possible to talk to one of the village astronomers tonight.

  Tiembo looked thoughtful. “You are welcome to ask the astronomer questions as long as you are respectful that his knowledge of the sky also relates to our religious beliefs. Many people come and try to dispute him. Then, when their telescopes discover what we have been saying for thousands of years, they do not come back to say the Dogon were right, they say it was a fluke. This has made the Dogon astronomers skeptical of outsiders’ questions, but I will take you to him if you are ready to listen as well as talk, Patrick.”

  Reid lightly held onto my hand as we walked behind them and I could feel him monitoring me. “I swear I am all right. Negative gravity and I don’t get along well. I don’t know why. It’s always been like that.”

  “You may be all right, but I don’t know if I am. I don’t scare easily, Whitney, but you have a knack for terrifying me. I can feel you drifting in your mind but I cannot find you.” Reid’s voice was tight. “The last time you did it was on Sanctuary. What you are doing shouldn’t be possible and I don’t know how to solve a problem that shouldn’t exist.”

  Unfortunately, there were no coordinates accompanying my mindscape. I hated it when I got lost myself, especially in the dark area past memory and dreams. That was an abyss I sensed was dangerous.

  “I could hear you. I heard you saying my name,” I softly mumbled. For what it was worth, I wanted him to know he helped me to find my way back.

  We had arrived at the entrance of the cave. Small children greeted us with singing and Blair passed out pencils to squeals of delight while Patrick handed out high fives. It was easy to pretend to be a tourist with the kids around. It lightened the mood as we walked into the stifling heat of the late afternoon.

  Tiembo ushered the children along with us as we walked out into daylight and toward the village. A little boy walked up to Tiembo and asked him a question. He was looking in our direction. Reid surprised the boy by answering him in his native language and the three of them laughed.

  “Our little friend asked me if you were my wife because I looked annoyed with you,” Reid translated. His eyes softened but I ignored it. Instead, I laughed like it was a joke.

  “Did you tell him cranky was your permanent look?”

  Reid laughed again. “No, I told him annoying me is your hobby and that I indulge you since it is good practice for when you ARE my wife.” Reid’s eyes shone with merriment. He had caught me off guard with his remark and he knew it.

  I fought to keep my cool despite the blistering heat and the uncontrollable blush that rose to my face. My pulse raced and I cursed the fact that Reid was holding my hand. He had felt my wave of panic. I could tell by his satisfied grin.

  He pulled me close to him and whispered in my ear, “What? Does this mean I should take the elopement off tomorrow’s calendar? Don’t worry, Whit. No rush. You haven’t even confessed how much you love me or that you can’t live without me. Clearly, I’ve got some work to do.” He shrugged as if it was a simple fact.

  He was irresistible to every other girl he had met and it must have been freeing for him to dangle commitment and a lifetime plan to the one person who did not want it. My immediate plans only involved getting the spear and getting my team safely on the plane home.

  “Don’t hold your breath,” I answered. Reid puffed up his cheeks and I deflated one with my finger. The little boy who was walking with us laughed at Reid and then ran up to his friends.

  “You certainly know how to take the wind out of a guy’s sails,” Reid joked. He was still holding my hand so I knew my rebuff had not really upset him. He had an unshakable confidence about our future that unnerved me. Maybe because I was not so certain, thanks to my intuition that I had not learned all there was to know about Karen Eubanks.

  I looked ahead at Blair and Patrick. It was not hard for me to see their future. They had what I did not—the potential for a normal life—and it was getting harder for me to keep up the facade. I looked down at my fingernails. Holly had the idea for the team to paint them blue for our fi
eld hockey game. My shoulder had been sore from the vaccinations and I had not played well. It wasn’t that I didn’t score any goals; it was that I didn’t create scoring opportunities for others. My passes had been weak and I felt I had let the team down. There would be tough choices ahead.

  At the moment, we were thousands of miles away from the lush greenery of Virginia and the high school fields of competition. We were standing on the Bandiagara Escarpment, the sandstone cliff that stood over 1,500 feet high and stretched for almost 100 miles beneath the dry and arid plateau dabbed with a few scrubby trees. The horizon beyond was a brilliant blue and endless sky.

  Once we arrived in the village, I was surprised by the futuristic appearance of its buildings. The continuous, rounded forms were plastered together. I was trying to think where I had seen it before when Patrick spun around with a child on his shoulders. He held a hand up to his eye as if he was looking through a scope. “Is that you, Han? Princess Leia?”

  That was it. Patrick was spot on that the Bongo village looked like Luke Skywalker’s home planet of Tatooine.

  “No. It’s me, Luke, and this little bleeping droid who is nothing but trouble.” Reid poked my side but I neglected to beep like a good R2-D2 unit.

  “Look who casts himself as the lead character. And I’m a robot?” I scoffed. Blair paused and turned around to give a tight-lipped smile at me. She waited for me to catch up to her and I beamed a smile at her, thanking her for having my back.

  “Patrick asked me to go with him to see the astronomer later,” Blair said. “Is that cool or do we have stuff to do to get ready for tomorrow?”

  “Nope. You’ve gotten everything I had access to before we left. While you are out, feel free to grab dinner and the kola nuts for the Hogon. We will need to offer those when we see him tomorrow.” It would be good to send Blair and Patrick into the village with Tiembo so they could get a look around.