by Ky Lehman
“He doesn’t recognise him,” Mum gasps.
“Huh?” I ask, my eyes spinning in my head.
“I didn’t expect for Josh to recognise Nathan, but I was sure Nathan would recognise his first born son,” Mum whispers. “Maybe too much time has gone by,” she sullenly adds.
Stunned by Benni Dhoo’s electrifying gaze, Josh’s eyes cloud over as the storm passes through, clearing and changing from stone to silver as the truth surfaces from the depths and all that was then takes shape in the here and now. Witnessing their fear disintegrate as the bond reforges and fire in their eyes grows brighter brings memories of this father and his son rushing back.
When Joshua was condemned to death, his father, Nathan, asked for his peers, the Luminaries of the North, East and West, to agree to releasing him from his position as the Luminary of the South, so he could become the Protector of the Blessed Tree, not only so he could watch over his family, but also so he could, one day, see his son reunited with his other half, “…to see the salt and light come together as one,” I hear Nathan’s original vow echo throughout the ages.
I remember that after a thorough deliberation, his fellow Luminaries all finally agreed to support Nathan’s transformation, and at sunrise on the day his beloved firstborn son was to be tortured to death, Nathan was brought to his knees as his as his golden wings folded in on themselves, encasing his earthly heart and binding him to his promise and his new purpose. His two legs became four and black fur shrouded his new animal body, and he grew teeth, claws and the strength capable of bringing down a small army.
In his new form, Nathan left the South lands and the Tor clans he once governed and sought to join a clan from the North Lands whose hillside base was close to his family’s new home. When he pledged his service to Arthos, the Luminary of the North, his only requests were that he’d be based close to his family, and that his new clan name be after his son’s unborn child. So, when the time came, he was named Benni, after his first grandchild, Benjamin, and the second name he chose was Dhoo, which from the North lands that means ‘black’ like his obsidian coat, and from the South lands means ‘tree,’ to honour both his adopted clan, and the generations of his descendants he sacrificed the only earthly life he knew to protect.
These recollections bring me to a very sudden and terrifying realisation: Benni Dhoo is aging because his first born son has returned… so does that mean that now he has seen him again, is his long life going to come to an abrupt end here and now?
“No!” I scream as I rush at the two of them.
Benni Dhoo turns towards me and snarls, stopping me dead in my tracks. Once he sees that I am frozen in place, he turns back to his son, who is also frozen in place, and continues staring into his ashen, saliva-covered face.
“Josh. Ren. It’s OK. Just give Benni Dhoo some time to figure this all out,” Mum loudly whispers.
Barely breathing with our stares glued on Benni Dhoo, we all stay where we are. His eyes are alight like burning coals, but his face is impassive, and his weight is still bearing down on Josh who amazingly hasn’t made a sound.
More silent moments pass, until Josh gasps, “Father?”
Benni Dhoo shows his teeth again, but this time in a big smile, and he starts happily licking Josh all over the face.
I close my eyes and cover my mouth in disbelief. Benni Dhoo did recognise Joshua, but he wanted his son to look into his eyes and acknowledge him before another thing was said or done. I marvel at how it is the same way Mike gets me to acknowledge him, lifetime after lifetime. Again, I am shown that the eyes really are the windows to the soul.
Benni Dhoo lets Josh up, and the instant he is free, he throws his arms around his father’s broad, furry neck. The intense emotion of the moment commands for Mum and I to avert our gaze. She jerks her head signalling that we should go into the next room to give them some privacy. Agreeing with her, I nod, but on second thought, I put up my hand, asking for her to give me a minute.
I creep over towards them, cringe at my imposition and softly say, “Benni Dhoo?” Father and son pull away from each other which is the last thing I wanted to happen, but before leaving them alone, I have to make sure, not only for Josh’s benefit, but for mine and Mum’s too. “Oh…um, I’m really sorry, but, um, are you OK, Benni Dhoo? You’re not going to…um…well, you know…” I babble like an idiot, accentuating my unspoken concern by rolling my eyes back in my head and allowing my tongue to loosely fall out of the side of my mouth, all while making gargling sounds like I am choking on my own spit.
Benni Dhoo snickers, smiles, and shakes his head no, and taps on the coffee table beside him, “I’m not going anywhere yet, daughter.”
Daughter. Well, I guess in a way I am. Besides marrying his son two thousand odd years ago, he has loved and protected me like the most devoted of fathers. Momentarily forgetting my embarrassing display, my chest heaves with pride and relief.
“I’ll leave the two of you alone,” I meekly say and turn to leave the room. But, as I do, out of the corner of my eye, I see Josh’s bewildered, bright red face peek out from behind his father’s massive frame.
“Nice to see you again, Rose,” he says in his familiar voice.
I instantly warm inside and I can feel the blush spreading from my cheeks down to my neck. I want to turn and face him, but here, in the flesh, this young man I have known intimately is too striking, and in my weakness, I don’t want to show him what I am starting to remember. “You, too,” I say as I scurry out of the room, so we can all have the alone time we desperately need.
xxXxx
Mother and daughter reunite at the kitchen table while father and son continue to reforge their bond in the next room. The whole thing is surreal. Bittersweet. Exciting. Uncanny. Completely off the chain. But, considering everything that has brought us to this point, still wary of the creepy ominousness that clings to my recollections will stay the course and possibly snowball, experiencing these uppity feelings all at once is more than OK with me.
With Mum’s barrage of questions, I have hardly stopped to take a breath, but on the odd occasion when I do, I stop and listen for more than just the hum of the air conditioner coming from the front sitting room where we left Josh and Benni Dhoo alone together.
I haven’t expected to hear Benni Dhoo’s taps; Josh has never seen his father in this form and he wouldn’t understand him anyway. Josh could ask him questions and Benni Dhoo could answer yes, no, or gesture, but the last words I heard Josh speak were to me as I left the room.
Mum notices me still, straining to hear something, anything. She knowingly smiles and says, “Didn’t you hear them leave?”
“Ah, no. I didn’t,” I sheepishly answer.
“With all they’ve got to talk about, I’m sure they’ve gone to find someone to translate for Josh,” she says.
Besides my family and the Tor People, I can’t think of anyone else who would understand Benni Dhoo’s tap dancing lingo. “Who?” I ask.
“Benni Dhoo’s Tor Clan lives close by. I’d say he’s taken Josh to see them.”
“But, the Tor People can’t enter the human world until Midsummer’s Day,” I point out.
“That’s true. But those with a human parent and a Tor parent can visit both realms anytime they please,” she explains.
“That’s right, they can,” I gasp, remembering.
“I know of Eloise and her son, Jordi, who live in a lovely little place on the outskirts of the forest. Maybe they’ve gone to see them?” she proposes.
“Maybe,” I thoughtfully answer, remembering that Jordi’s mother is human and his father is a Woodwose.
Mum pats her knee, gesturing where she wants me to lay my head. Happily, I do, and as I stare up at the white, freshly painted ceiling, she combs my hair with her fingers like she did when I was little and tired. “OK, Mum. Your turn,” I press. She sighs. “C’mon. You’ve heard all about me, and school, and my friends, and Georgie Pa, and all of the town gossip. And, you pr
omised.” I remind her for the third time.
“Alright. Alright. What do you want to know?” she groans. She has never much liked talking about herself.
“How badly were you hurt?” I ask, scrunching up my eyes, bracing myself for the answer.
Her fingers move to my brow and while trying to smooth out the creases, she says, “Thanks to your father, not badly at all. A bruised hip. A fractured wrist. A few second-degree burns on my left arm and torso. Besides some scarring I’m told will fade over time, I’ve healed up pretty well. Even though, at times, my heart still hurts like hell.”
“Me too. Sometimes, I miss her so bad, and I get so angry...”
“I know, baby. Nanna didn’t deserve to die the way she did,” she says, her voice cracking. “God knows, I miss her, too.”
She pauses so we can both collect ourselves before she carefully questions me, “You do understand that it wasn’t your father who planted that bomb, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t understand at all,” I snap, sitting up. “He was the only Bloodstone in town pretending to be someone he’s not. The ‘accident,’ as you call it, happened at his home and place of business, and he cleared out straight after it happened!” I yell.
“You’re right, Ren. Your father is not a priest. Or a Bloodstone either, for that matter.”
She stops to see how I took that revelation, and I answer her by huffing and crossing my arms in a way that screams, BULLSHIT!
Unshaken by my opposition, she goes on to state, “He was pretending to be both of those things, to protect you, to protect us, because he heard that the Bloodstones were close to finding us.” She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and adds, “As it turns out, they were closer than we all thought.” Her voice quavering, she takes a sip of water and continues, “We left town straight after the blast to keep you safe, and to bring me here: to the one place he knew I’d be safe. And, as for his real home and his place of business, as you put it, that will be proven to you and everyone else when Tor People arrive,” she says, unsuccessfully trying not to sound defensive.
Even though I have been trying to shut him out of my thoughts, I had a hunch that I would see my father at the Clearing, but the rest of what Mum just said about him, I don’t buy. I dismissively shrug and say, “Aunt Romey’s not convinced either, you know.”
“Soon, she will be too. Look, sweetheart, I’m not suggesting that all of your suspicions about you father aren’t warranted, but I do know that you shouldn’t base them on that car bomb, or Nanna’s passing,” she says.
“Murder. Nanna’s murder,” I correct her.
She goes to speak, but sadly nods her acknowledgement instead. If I didn’t say that word in anger, I’d find it hard to get my mouth around it too.
Eager to talk about someone, anyone, else, I decide ask her about another intimidating male I’m far from fully understanding. “Why was Josh here... all edgy-like?” I put forward, gesturing to the front room.
“He was told that you would be arriving first thing this morning, without Mike, and he didn’t like that at all. You didn’t end up getting here until noon, and he was worried,” she says. “Josh is starting to remember bits and pieces, and let’s just say...he has been looking forward to seeing you,” she adds with a small smile.
“Really? Huh.” I grunt. Mum looks at me quizzically. “It’s just that Mike said Josh couldn’t remember anything about me. I wonder what set him off,” I say thoughtfully.
“You’d know about that better than anyone, Ren. How it can be anything: a familiar face, a smell, a food, a sound can bring it all rushing back.”
“He hasn’t mentioned what did it?” I ask.
“No. And I know better than to push. Especially at the beginning,” she says.
Agreeing with her, I nod. “Is Josh staying at the Castle?” I ask.
“Yes. And as of today, so are we!” she announces with a big grin.
I clap my hands together and let out a sigh of relief. I have always loved staying at the Castle, especially when my family is there together, all of us surrounded by recollections of our beginnings and every earthly lifetime thereafter. The air, thick with our shared memories but far from stale, fills me up like a warm, hearty stew I have never lost the taste for, as, well nourished, I continue along my chosen path with the same driving hunger to leave new footprints for the lost to follow.
A nice thought, but with Nanna, our head cook, gone, I’ve got no idea how I’m going to stomach any of it....
“Your bags have already been taken up to your room. Do you want to head over there now?” Mum asks.
“Soon.” I say, sitting back down. Before I, once again, stay under the same roof as Josh, I need to clarify one all important thing. “When will Mike be here?” I ask.
“Midsummer is in two days, so he will have to be here by then,” she replies, sitting back down too.
“All four Luminaries have to be present, don’t they?” I clarify.
“They do. As the leader of their lands and of the Tor clans that inhabit them, they have to be here to represent those who can’t be here to represent themselves,” she answers, egging my memory on.
“And Mike is the Luminary of the…?”
“South.”
“And he always has been.”
“Since thirty two years after he was first born on Earth, yes.”
“And he inherited that position.”
“Yes. From his father.” She pauses, looking deep into my eyes. I nod, giving her the go ahead. “His father, Nathan,” she confirms.
I close my eyes as my head lolls back.
“Nathan. As in Benni Dhoo,” I affirm.
“Yes.”
“Oh, dear God…” I gasp, as I acknowledge that the only two men I have ever loved were brothers.
Joshua was the oldest. Micah was only a year younger. And their father was Nathan, Luminary of the South, who is now Benni Dhoo, Protector of our Family Tree.
My brain grows foggy and my breathing labours as my heart tears in two and my consciousness threatens to submit. Mum can see that I’m going under. “Stay with me, Ren. Keep talking. Keep telling me what you are remembering.”
It’s all too painful and I want to escape it, but I have learned from recent episodes that fainting usually precedes something monumental. So, I widen my eyes, the one that looks into my mind and the two that looks out into the world, and as I persistently stare through the haze, the grey mist complies and morphs into colourful, solid shapes. As I start to feel my way ahead, I describe what I am remembering out loud. “Between Joshua being condemned to die and Nathan turning into Benni Dhoo, Mike was asked by the other Luminaries if he wanted to inherit his father’s position, and he accepted so he could stay…so he could stay here to be with me…”
“That’s right, Ren,” Mum encourages me. But, sensing the vastness looming just ahead, my anxiety rapidly starts to climb, threatening to take away my sight.
After reasserting my resilience, taking stock, and reassuring her and myself that I am still alert, present and strong enough for her to start filling in the canyon-sized blanks, she goes on to explain, “As an Archangel, Micah is only able to safely experience one earthly lifetime, and knowing that you wouldn’t give up, that you’d keep coming back to finish what we all started, he took the only opportunity he could to stay here on Earth with you lifetime after lifetime.”
“And he has been here on Earth since our first lifetime together. Like Benni Dhoo,” I shakily clarify.
Mum slowly nods.
Suddenly, I feel the hard, unforgiving planks of wood under my knees and hear the whistle of a falling sword, as the image of Mike and me briefly discussing this in Aunt Romey and Uncle Craig’s kitchen fills my mind and the scent of freshly brewed coffee fills my nostrils. “But…Mike said that he usually checks out after I do!” I yell as everything once again stops making sense.
Mum holds me as the tears flow and she tries her best to gently explain, “He always fin
ds a way to die shortly after you do: two of his deaths that immediately come to mind are when he led the battle against a field full of mercenaries fighting for the red cloaks, and when he threw himself in front of an assassins bullet to save the lesser of two evils; the influence of the life he saved ended up playing a big part in saving the world from Nazi rule. He manages to find a way to pass over so his death won’t be in vain, and then he is immediately reborn in a body that will best serve this world’s evolution towards the light.
“Mike jumped at the chance to be a Luminary because it bound him to stay on Earth for the time he originally agreed upon, and it is a covenant even death itself can’t terminate. So, regardless of the earthly body he is born into, he is immediately returned to the same path meaning that he will always find his way back to his position as Luminary of South Lands, to us, and to you.” She tuts and sympathetically adds, “Always starting again, always treading the same path, except for when he is living in this world at the same time you are.”
“Is that what Aunt Romey meant when she said that Mike is…regressing?” I choke out.
“Yes,” she regretfully answers, her eyes glinting with unshed tears. “Mike may have signed up for only one life and one path, but with all of his coming and going over the past two thousand years trying to keep in time with you, well, let’s just say that his one unnaturally long life here on Earth is the equivalent of many natural ones,” she explains. “Breaking natural law has a price, and that price is to do what is needed to even the balance.”
“So…how many lives has he lived?” I nervously ask. I pray that it is calculated based on Old Testament times when people used to live for nine hundred years.