The Book: A Novel Calling

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The Book: A Novel Calling Page 13

by Leo Nation


  Adam grabbed the bowl of his pipe, and he pointed the tip at me, as he leaned forward like a hooded monk. “Not bad. I like the idea.”

  “I don’t know where I end, but I know it’s not at my skin,” I said.

  “How could it be?” Adam replied. “If you love the whole universe?”

  “I have never said this before, or thought of this word relating to myself, but the truth is, I feel blessed. I feel related to the energy of existence—aligned—with the intention of the universe.”

  “That’s … interesting,” said Adam serenely.

  “I have never said this before, but I have been feeling blessed.”

  “You may be, Jonathan. Could be.”

  “What matters to me,” I said, “is reality. My sense of duty is to what is real. I am committed to being open. I am so grateful for my life.” I laughed.

  “You sound good.”

  “Not too crazy?”

  “At this point, Jonathan, what difference could that possibly make?”

  “I’ve been thinking—“

  “There’s more?”

  I smiled and shared a thought. “I have been thinking that appreciation may be the highest vibration on the planet.”

  “It is high … no doubt.”

  “Allow me to say this one more time, just for the pleasure of it. I love the universe.”

  Adam looked down his nose at me. After a long and thoughtful draw on his pipe, he added, “Our voyage is so old it boggles the mind. The world brought life forth after billions of years of transformation; then it created creatures and even consciousness. Now we are aware not only of the world around us, but also of our own awareness. We know that we know. It’s hard to fathom what our part is in all this is, but I’m sure we have an important part to play.”

  “And a lot to learn,” I said.

  “Of course. What could be more fun? We have become a world aware of itself. We can add conscious self-awareness to the eternal process of evolution.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Can you think of a greater privilege? We are derived from a cosmic creative energy. All of life came out of one creative impulse, so we are related to everything. There is only one primary energy, Jonathan, and it is the force creating the world. The time has come for us to serve the whole thing consciously.”

  “I feel old and brand new.”

  “Hey, hey, hey! You Renaissance man.”

  “I am feeling great,” I repeated.

  “Tell me what is happening on the other side,” Adam said. “What’s going on there?”

  “We’re standing in front of the door.”

  “Looking at the coins?”

  “Right. We have to open it up. I can’t walk around that thing.”

  “The choice is yours, but stay open. See what is—take what you get—and move on.”

  “I want to go back now.”

  “I know. Stand up. Close your eyes.”

  I followed his instruction and waited for his hand to touch my shoulder. With my eyes closed I got a slight sniff of tobacco, which reminded me of Adam’s strength and his integrity.

  An apex of appreciation arose within me as Adam’s hand came over my forehead.

  He said the magic word.

  “Naphsha!”

  ***

  “All right, guys—and gals,” I shout.

  Woman cries out, “Be strong!”

  I step back and I feel the door pulling like a band of horizontal gravity. Woman and Boy, Big Guy, Teenager and Harlequin fly up the stairs with me. Like a cluster of meteors we crash into the white painted door and wood shatters. Splinters stand out as we sprawl through the door and scatter thousands of golden discs into black space. I slam face down on a thick flexible surface, which rolls under my body like waves of dense rubber. I stiffen my arms and look for the others.

  I see members of my team rising up as silhouettes between me and candlelight beyond the doorway. Wooden fragments hang on the sides of the entrance. I stand up swaying and I announce, “We need light.”

  I try to run and my feet sink down into elastic membrane. I struggle to keep my balance and move forward, almost jogging in place. Heading for the door like a high-stepping trotter, I poke my head through the portal, and now, I turn around and shout, “We did it!”

  I run down the stairs and stretch to seize a burning candle in a wrought iron contraption stuck on the wall. I pull myself up and snatch the flaming candle. As I drop to the floor, I feel like doing a victory dance. I leap through the entry. Now I bounce back to my friends, who are still struggling to stay on their feet. Except for the flame in my hand, the passage is dark. I lift the light and see faces edging closer to me.

  Light falls on Boy’s young face. I’m taken aback by the tenderness in his youth. Surprised by how young eight years old is, I well up with a feeling that wants to take care of him.

  I look around a circle of smiling faces, and I feel as if we are a troop gathered on an African plain, huddling around a campfire after a long day of hunting and being hunted.

  It’s a powerful bond.

  “Hey,” Teenager says. “Where are the cats?”

  “They’re comin’ too, right?” says Boy.

  “Of course,” Woman replies.

  Harlequin’s head pops up. He looks over my shoulder. Before I can say anything, he bounds away like an athlete crossing the country on a trampoline. He bounces through the doorway and over the landing.

  I see his arms waving above the big cats in the light beyond the door. Like a cowboy guiding them into a corral, he steers the impressive felines through the broken portal. They come ambling over the flexible surface to us. As they arrive they start writhing around my legs.

  “Too close, let’s go,” I say. “Time to get back on track.”

  “Okay!” says Teenager, with a surprising serving of enthusiasm.

  “All right guys—and gals,” I say. “Keep your balance. This stuff is mushy.”

  I look ahead and I see a flicker of swirling light on a bend in the wall farther ahead. The light fades. Now it’s gone.

  “I wonder where that came from,” I say.

  “Not far,” Woman replies.

  Rising up and down we march on like explorers crossing a giant marshmallow in the dead of night. I turn around and raise my light. Young eyes glisten behind me. Behind them, Teenager and Boy walk in front of Harlequin, who is tugging on Big Guy’s forearm. Beyond them, the two big cats are nearly out of sight.

  I turn to Woman. Her eyes are so intelligent I want to rise off the ground. She’s as fresh as a daisy in springtime. I take her hand and we walk around the bend.

  Teenager says, “I….”

  But he adds nothing.

  I think of the pressure I applied trying to get him to come with us. Now, I wonder whether I did the right thing; I don’t know what I got him into. I’m glad he came, but still, I’m not sure it’s good. I can only hope that goodness really is in the wings waiting for us. It is possible.

  I wonder if Adam knows what is happening now. I meant to ask him that. Does he know where we are? And what is going on?

  Now I recall the lady asleep on the bench by the bus stop in West Hollywood. I remember Adam’s long legs loping down the aisle as he departed the bus to Santa Monica. I feel warmth enter my hand; Woman’s shoulder brushes mine. I take a deep breath. Everything seems fine. I’ll take what comes. I tell myself, all is well.

  “I wish we could see Earth,” I whisper.

  “That would be nice.”

  “I mean, sunlight, you know? I could use some of that.”

  “It would be good,” she repeats, as we come all the way round the bend.

  “I mean, I would like to feel some wrinkled old bark under my arms. I’d love to lie down on the ground, face first, with blades of grass tickling my face.”

  Woman laughs.

  “Hey,” I say, “There it is.”

  The end of the tunnel sways slowly, moving up and down and to
and fro in front of us. It glides across a vision of distant stars. We act like horses slogging faster to get back to our barn. I look up into the circle of black space flecked with pure white light, and a thrill swings through my chest.

  “I feel giddy,” I say. “I’m wide open. I have a void in me. I feel empty and it’s okay.”

  As we step onto the edge of the tunnel, I imagine a hot dog with mustard in a baseball stadium full of fans. Why am I thinking of this now? I don’t go to games anymore. Now I remember a trip to Sportsmen’s Park with my dad, when I was just a kid. I was overwhelmed by the vastness inside the park—and the alignment of all that energy on a single outcome.

  “I wish I could hug a big tree,” I say to Woman. She laughs.

  At the edge of the tunnel, we gaze into a perfect vastness of space. Woman squeezes my hand and a curling blaze of light rises before us. Now it gradually moves away spinning off into silent deep space.

  “It’s gone,” I say.

  “Beautiful,” says Boy.

  “Great,” says Teenager.

  “I wonder what that was,” I think aloud.

  Harlequin stands right on the very edge of the tunnel. His curled shoes hang off the lip, and he looks ready to tumble into the great abyss.

  “Hey! Amigo! Watch it!” Teenager cries.

  The trickster pretends to lose his balance. Boy reacts, “Oh, no! Don’t!” Harlequin raises his arms and he turns his palms up. Now standing on one foot, he shrugs his shoulders and keeps his balance with the toe of his crossover shoe.

  “Damn!” Teenager laughs. “You scared me.”

  “He’s a nut,” Boy chuckles.

  Harlequin laughs and the tassel on his cap falls over his eyes; for a moment he looks lost. Clutching the air as if about to fall, he tosses his head back and the fluffy ball rolls to the back of his head. He holds his stomach and silently laughs.

  I go to the edge of the tunnel and stand next to him. Looking down at endless emptiness, I feel dizzy. I wiggle my toes just to orient myself.

  What am I doing here?

  Overwhelmed by the size of it all, and feeling empty beyond imagination as I behold trillions of stars in space, I think if this doesn’t make you dizzy nothing will. I hold out my arms to embrace the cosmos.

  “Holy cow,” I whisper.

  Woman lifts my hand to her lips.

  It’s hard to believe a world this big, and yet, in a surprising way, I feel secure. Empty and full at the same time on the very edge of things, like this, I see the cosmos as perfect—and conscious.

  “I feel connected,” I whisper.

  “It’s fantastic,” Woman agrees at my side.

  “My mind is empty and I feel fine.”

  “A heavenly wonder,” she adds.

  Stupefied by celestial glory, I find it hard to control my sense of joy. Overtaken by a deep sense of peace, I now want to shout my appreciation. I look into Woman’s shining eyes.

  “This feels like … being.”

  “At the center of the universe,” she replies.

  ”I feel great,” I add, aware of a big smile. “There is nothing in me—but all that.”

  ∞ 23 ∞

  Teenager grabs my shoulder. “I need something to hang onto.”

  “Don’t count on me, Kid,” I reply. “You could knock me over with a feather and push me out there with a whisper.”

  Another cluster of light appears.

  “Hey! What is that?” I say.

  “I feel it in me,” Boy replies.

  “It’s perfect,” says Teenager.

  “A spectacle of pure light,” I spout.

  “Like a little galaxy,” says Woman.

  “It’s so close,” I say.

  “Impeccable,” she adds.

  “Wow!” says Boy.

  Still at the tunnel’s edge, Harlequin removes his cap and gives it a little shove. We watch it drift into space. He chuckles and snatches it from the void. He plops his cap on his head and looks at us with playful shimmering eyes.

  “You are too much,” I say.

  “Just look at that,” Woman sighs.

  The radiant light seems to be coming into being from nothing.

  “Holy cow!” I repeat.

  “Can you believe this?” Teenager says.

  “Yow!” Boy adds.

  “Look at that glorious … bedazzle!” I cry.

  “This is good,” Woman replies.

  “We got here just in time,” says Boy.

  “It is very transformative,” Big Guy says.

  Everybody turns to him, surprised.

  “Transcendent,” he adds.

  “Big Guy!” Woman cries. “That is brilliant.”

  The big man replies with a fleshy lisp, “This is enough to lift one’s spirits.”

  “You take my breath away,” she says.

  “I feel different,” he declares.

  “Me too,” Boy agrees.

  “Smarter,” says Teenager.

  “Crazier things have happened, I guess.” I watch the brilliant apparition as it jitterbugs into deep space. Around the bend and on the brink like this, we are left to ponder the meaning of things. The new light has now disappeared into the impossible void. I blink to remember who I am.

  “Joyous serenity,” Woman says.

  “I like the sound of that. Joyous serenity.”

  “It came out of nothing,” Teenager says.

  “Maybe it was an idea,” Boy suggests.

  “That could be,” Woman replies.

  “Maybe an original,” Teenager adds.

  “I think you got it,” I tell him. “We may have witnessed the birth of a new idea.”

  Woman slides her hand along my spine, and I tingle as she rubs my back. I must focus to hear Teenager’s words.

  “I’m glad I came.” He declares, “I am really glad to be here.”

  “I am really glad to hear you say that,” I say.

  I grin at Big Guy and he says, “I have been here before.”

  Everybody turns to him, but Boy suddenly shouts, “Oh, no!”

  Something seems very wrong.

  “No, no, no!” he cries, with a stunned look of blindness shaking his body.

  “Hey, Kid! C’mon now!”

  “No!” he shouts at a phantasm.

  I grab his shoulder and shake, “Come on!”

  He lifts his forearm over his brow and he groans, “Uh-oh!” He looks as if the hand of God just seized his heart, and is wringing all human misery through him. He raises both arms over his head. “No! No!”

  My heart aches for this kid, but I don’t know what to do. I reach out and he recoils. “Not true!” He cries out, “It’s not true!”

  Teenager gawks at Boy as if something has crumbled in him. He looks away and begins to wail. They both unload their miseries into the cosmos.

  “Fuck you!” Teenager shouts.

  Boy repeats, “It’s not true!”

  “Too much!” Teenager cries.

  “Wait, you guys!” I shout. “Whatever this is, you can handle it. Just take what you get. You’ll be better for it.”

  “Oh, my God!” Teenager sobs.

  “You are bigger than this.” I repeat, “You can handle it!”

  “Oh, my God!” he grunts.

  “Steady now, hold on,” I cry.

  Teenager’s face is taut as a snare drum. He shouts at something ugly in his mind. “Oh, no!” he sobs and gags on a sudden gasp of breath, and he spits profanely, “You bastards!”

  He looks down at Boy and his eyes fill with compassion. His face relents just a little, and now with sadness in his eyes, he repeats, softer this time, “You … bastards.”

  Whatever all this was, I think Teenager is over the hump and on a downhill slide. It may be over. He puts his hand on Boy’s shoulder as he looks at me through plain exhaustion. “Wait until you see what Big Guy is in for,” he says.

  It is hard to believe that anyone as menacing as Big Guy could fear anything, but he look
s terrified. His huge face instantly becomes streaming wetlands. Something behind his eyes explodes and he goes vacant. Gaping into space he sees nothing; his Mexican God lips curl and twist as the burly giant appears to be caught in the act, bent like a burglar surprised by a flashlight.

  Big Guy wraps his biceps around his ears. He shouts, “Stop!” He waves his book over his head and he cries, “Stop it. No fair! It’s not right—No! … No!”

  “Big Guy!” I say. “You can handle it!”

  “I can’t stand it,” he replies.

  “Yes you can!” I shout.

  Teenager screams, “Keep going, Big Guy! Throw it off your shoulders and feel lighter.”

  “You sir … did not look light to me!”

  “If he could do it,” I tell him, “so can you.”

  “Look at yourself,” says Woman.

  “That, Milady … is what I am afraid of.”

  “You’re afraid of you?” Teenager scoffs.

  “I know too much about that already.”

  “Just see what is,” I say. “Know yourself.”

  “Hah!” he mocks, waving his big fist.

  “You can do it, Big Guy. Teenager did it. Boy did it. You can too.”

  He chides at me like a Nordic wind, “Haw!”

  Woman says, “I believe in you.”

  He glances at her and his eyes soften, but he is still distressed.

  How can anybody as big as Big Guy be shaken like this? He looks at Woman’s face, and he seems to grow a little calmer. If he wins at this, I think, she will be the reason.

  “We do believe in you,” she tells him.

  The giant’s eyelids fall half-mast.

  “You can do this,” Teenager affirms. “I know you can.”

  Boy says, “Me, too.”

  “Think of it this way, Big Guy, what other options do you have?”

  “Oh, God!” he moans, lifting his book before his face like a shield.

  “This is it!” I remind him. “Open up!”

  “Time to be strong,” says Woman.

  “Let go,” Teenager cries.

  “If I do, I might kill somebody.”

  “That would be unfortunate,” I say, “but, we’ll take the chance.”

 

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