by The Awethors
Chapter 2
Paul tried going up and down the stairs, but the direction made no difference. He was always in the same room. He was trapped in this room. There were no other rooms. Maybe the whole tower was an illusion. He started to wonder if he was dead. He checked and could find no pulse, no heartbeat. Had he died in his sleep to awaken in . what? Was this hell? He thought. Something else?
He stopped his frantic mind from racing out of control. Think, he thought to himself. I need to think this through logically. He was used to thinking in the terms of programming. A software program was a conglomeration of decisions and tasks. Make a decision and perform the tasks assigned to each specific decision.
Another thought occurred to him as he thought about the time he had spent exploring and finding nothing more than this room. He realized many hours must have passed since he arrived in the tower. Maybe a full day. He analyzed himself. No hunger, no thirst. He went to the mirror and put a hand to his face. No stubble. His face was smooth as if he had recently shaved. No pulse. No hunger. Though the answer seemed impossible, it was the only logical explanation. There was no passage of time. Time was standing still!
The thought of alien abduction came to him, but he rejected the thought as improbable. He did not feel like a prisoner. What else? He could move around, move objects, open and close his eyes.
“Can I talk?” he said aloud. Yes, he could speak and had heard his own voice. If time were stopped, would those things be possible? Logic was not being very helpful in this mystery.
“Is anybody there?” he shouted. No answer. “Can anyone hear me?” Still, no answer.
He felt helpless and afraid. If this were a puzzle to be solved, he needed clues, but he had found nothing to help figure it out. Or had he? His mind went back to the Bible in the drawer. He had read portions of the Bible but not most of it to be sure. He considered himself a Christian, but he had not been active in practicing his assumed religion. He had not been a frequent church goer and had only attended on special occasions with friends who invited him. He did believe there was a God, an almighty creator of the universe.
The sermons he had heard made sense to him in a way, but he had never put his trust in anything except his own mind, in himself. “I am the master of my own fate,” he was fond of saying. However, he did not feel much in control at the moment. He went to the desk and opened the drawer, taking out the Bible and looking at it. He had no clue as to where he was or what to do. Maybe he needed to read the Bible for a clue.
Paul laid down on the bed, propping up his head with the pillows, and opened the book in his hands. He looked at the page he had opened to. It was Proverbs 18:10. “The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.” It seemed rather odd the first verse he looked at would mention a tower. Was God doing this to him? He closed the book, laid back and closed his eyes, and drifted off into sleep, thinking maybe now he could wake up and find this had all been a strange dream.