by Jamie Ott
A name burned the end of his tongue, yet wouldn’t pass through his lips, though he tried to force it out.
“You frightened me,” the boy said. “Are you good people, or do we fight?”
He stood and raised his bloodied knife to an en guard position.
“We won’t hurt you. I’m Jacko, and this is my uncle, Bally.”
“I don’t have extra food, so if you’re here to beg…”
“We have our own supplies,” Jacko interrupted.
“Have we met before?”
“Maybe.”
The way the kid looked at him, Jacko knew he was just as struck. And in the last few weeks, he’d learned that nothing was coincidence in this godly time of war. So although he’d never met the kid before, he knew it was possible they’d spent time together - in some other life.
“I’m Julius.”
“No, that’s not your name,” Jacko said a little more accusatory than he meant.
“Oh and Jacko is yours?” he asked sarcastically.
They looked at each other a moment.
“Translation?” said Uncle Bally, looking at Jacko.
“Huh?”
“What’s going on? What’re you guys talking about?”
“It’s okay; I speak English, too,” said the boy.
Suddenly, comprehension dawned on Jacko. Ever since Lucem possessed him, he’d left behind a strange knowledge of languages. As before, and at that moment, he didn’t realize he was speaking Greek, he just did it.
“This is Julius.”
“Please, why don’t you sit?”
He gestured to the ground.
Jacko helped Uncle Bally with his bags, and then they sat opposite Julius, in front of the fire.
“Now, what is your real name?”
“I told you, it’s Jacko.”
“Maybe it is; maybe it isn’t,” he said, his eyes glistening with determination.
“If anyone shouldn’t trust someone, we shouldn’t trust you,” Uncle Bally said. “A young boy out here, all alone. Seems suspicious to me.”
“I’ve been alone for a while, now.”
“How long?” asked Jacko.
“It’s been over six months. I came when the skies turned gray.”
“Why did you come here?”
“The people in the cities were going crazy, and I knew I’d be safer in the forest. It’s loaded with fowl and other resources, and there’s plenty of water.”
As Julius talked about the state of civilization, Jacko expanded his fire and put on a pot of tea.
Julius finished gutted his duck and was slicing it into chunks.
Noticing the scent, he asked, “What is that?”
“Pine needle tea: it’s loaded with vitamin c. Helps our immune system, and especially in this cold and dreary, sunless weather. Helps us not get worn down, peps us up.”
“Yes, and what is that?”
He pointed to the green cylinder in his hand.
“It’s a bamboo shoot.”
“Where? They’re not here?” he said in broken English. “Where-you from?”
“California.”
His mouth opened and his eyes got wide.
“Have you been stuck here, in Europe, a long time? It must be hard not knowing if your family is well.”
Uncle Bally and Jacko looked at each other.
“May I see?”
Jacko handed it to him.
“It’s hard as a rock.”
He gave Jacko back the bamboo. Then he watched the pine needles hop about the boiling water, which turned light brown.
“May I try? I’ve been sniffling, lately,” he asked, holding out a little silver cup.
“Sure.”
Jacko trickled the water into his cup and watched him sip.
His eyes widened.
“That is good. I never thought of that. Wait, I have an idea.”
He went up to a green leafy tree, right behind him, and came back.
“Maple,” said Uncle Bally, spotting the mold of brown sap in his hand.
He dropped it in the pot and gave it a stir for a bit.
When Julius had done, he served them.
“That is very nice!” said Jacko, licking sap from his lips.
“Listen, you wouldn’t mind showing us a few things, around here, would ya?” asked Uncle Bally. “We can’t seem to find food, yet here you are, with a beautiful bird.”
“You’re kidding right? There’s food all around. Look at this!”
He pulled a large sack of the brightest green olives from his bag.
“They’re the best I’ve ever had. Try?” he offered.
Jacko, who’d had fresh olives before, wanted to resist, but took one anyway. And like he remembered, it was bitter, but Julius’ olives were oily-smooth like he’d never had before.
“That’s really good,” said Uncle Bally with enthusiasm. He’d always had a taste for briskly things.
“There’s something about this place. Maybe it’s just well preserved, but everything tastes real good. I don’t know how to explain it. Look at this,” he produced a small jar with light greenish-clear fluid into Uncle Bally’s hands. “I grinded them and sieved them myself.”
“Very nice,” said Uncle Bally, looking thoroughly impressed. “This forest is a luxury, compared to where we’re from.”
“This place doesn’t have a wide variety – like I’ve never seen any deer, squirrel or rabbit, but there’s an overabundance of pheasant, peacocks, and ducks. When I first came, they littered the forest like rocks at every turn. Now, they know I want to eat them, so they’re more careful. But they have a very specific routine that follows day break and twilight. They wake, they walk to drink and spend the day foraging, and then they walk back to their sleep spot; almost never changing their route, except when one of theirs is hunted. But they still don’t change much.”
He placed a small pan on the mesh grill he’d set atop the fire. Jacko’s insides quivered when he poured a bit of the olive oil into the pan and tossed in the chunks of duck meat.
Jacko could tell Uncle Bally was just as affected by the sight of oiled, hot meat.
The rest of the evening, they ate savory duck and olives with pine needle tea. Jacko and Uncle Bally licked their fingers as they told Julius a little more about themselves, leaving out the bits about the gods and demons and wars.
As it turned out, Julius had lived on a small farm outside Edessa, a city in the north. His mother and father went to the coast to find his brother, who was a fisherman. It didn’t make sense why they left him behind, but he figured it was better not to ask. He didn’t want to ruin the first enjoyable evening he’d had since his uncle’s house got blown up.
They sat in silence, staring into the flames of the fire and sipping more tea.
“Gaia gave Hera a garden on her wedding day,” said Jacko dreamily. He didn’t know why he said it; it just came to him.
Julius dropped his jaw.
“What?”
“Nothing, but why did you just say that?”
Julius looked surprised.
“I don’t know. What’s so special about it?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just some dreams I’ve been having.”
“Oh yeah,” Jacko perked up. “Like, what?”
“War, devils, gods, angels, all fighting. And a boy whom I’m kin to, and try to save, but for some reason, I never see if I succeed. The dream always fades at that point.”
He observed Julius’ eyes which were white-like by the light of the bright fire.
“Have you ever met someone who didn’t seem,” he paused coyly, “human? Maybe had really hard or shiny looking skin? Maybe seemed like he had supernatural powers?”
“I don’t believe in the supernatural. I understand, not, what you ask.”
Jacko and Uncle Bally looked at each other a moment. They read a million thoughts in each other’s minds. He didn’t know what the purpose of meeting the boy was, but he knew tha
t he wasn’t going to let him out of his sight.
“Well, I’m so glad to have run into you. Really, you’re so nice and, well, listen, my uncle and I are headed to the mountain. At the top, there’s a safe haven. My family is already there. You should come with us!” he said with too much enthusiasm.
When he looked about ready to protest, he added, “I mean it’s nice out here, but wouldn’t you like to have a hot shower and sleep in a bed? Wouldn’t it be nice?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he looked away. “Actually, I kind of lied about how I got to be here. It’s just that it sounds really bad.”
He sighed and then continued, “It was my mother who brought me to this forest. Only, we camped about a 100 miles south of here. She wasn’t bad, like you must think; she was a great mother, and I know she loves me. She used to tell me stories about Hera. That’s why I was surprised when you mentioned her. My mother likes the old stories, too.
Anyway, we went to sleep, and that night, I had a dream. In it, she who came to me, telling me how to reach the Garden of Hera. She told me as long as I stayed here, I’d never starve or suffer. When I woke the next morning, she’d gone. I looked for her for days, but then she came to me again, in my dream, and said to come here and stay until it’s time; not to look for her anymore.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in the supernatural?”
“I don’t, but I think that dream was real. Besides, she might come back for me.”
“Aren’t you tired of being alone?” asked Uncle Bally.
“Sometimes my mother talks to me. I hear her whisper through the leaves of the trees, and at times, her soulful vibrato in the rushing river water. So I’m not really alone.”
They didn’t press the matter. But that night, they slept feeling better than they had in a while. Jacko told Uncle Bally that nothing would dare get them in Hera’s garden, and he believed that was exactly where they were. His uncle must have believed him, too. For the first time, he didn’t stay awake, keeping watch while Jacko drifted; instead he was out the minute he laid down.
To their surprise, the next morning they woke to Julius puttering about the camp.
“Sorry if I woke you. He placed a pan on the fire and cracked half a dozen eggs into it.”
“Are those duck eggs?” asked Uncle Bally.
“Yeah, they’re a little game tasting, but they’re still pretty good.”
Jacko and Uncle Bally pulled out some apples and coffee to go with it.
“So I was wondering, is your offer still good?”
“You mean for you to come with us? Yes. Why have you changed your mind?”
“This is gonna sound crazy, but she came to me, again, last night. She told me to go with you to the mount.”
Jacko and Uncle Bally looked at each other again.
“What is it?” he said, sounding slightly annoyed. “You, two, exchanged looks like that before.”
“It’s nothing,” said Jacko, shaking his head.
“Like hell. You guys aren’t tricking me, are you?”
“No, why would we?”
He looked at them a moment, and then returned to pushing the eggs across the pan. Still, Jacko had the feeling of distrust from him.
Trying to lighten the tension Uncle Bally said, “You are quite the survivalist.” He poured Julius a cup of dandelion coffee. “And this forest is real luxurious. Who knew outdoor living could be so delicious.”
“You just gotta know what to look for. It’s real easy to live here. Everything is so fresh. Although learning fire was kind of a hassle, but I got it down,” he said, nodding to a little block of magnesium that lay next to his bag.
“Oh, hell, I can teach you to make fire the natural way, but first, I gotta take care of some business.”
“Oh, let me help you,” said Jacko, knowing that he didn’t need it.
He pretended to heave Uncle Bally for several feet, until they were blocked by some trees. Jacko said, “So how much you wanna bet he’s like me but doesn’t know it?”
“Well, you can’t tell him. Something tells me he’s even more stubborn than me. He won’t believe you, yet. But I think you did well by inviting him along. Better to stick together. Maybe he’s powerful, too.”
“What if he’s not really on our side? One thing you gotta understand is demons, gods, and angels all have human offspring, and not all are good.”
“I don’t know, Jacko. I get the feeling he may be sincerely ignorant. If you want my advice, we should bring him along. However, I’ll let you make the call since you’re the one whose neck is on the line.”
“Well, if you think he may be true, then yeah, we’ll bring him. But you gotta keep an eye on him. I’m not good at reading people like you.”
“No kidding, Jacko. I’m no idiot!”
He traipsed off, by himself, behind some trees.
Fifteen minutes later, they returned to camp.
“Is there water nearby?” Jacko asked.
“Yep, the freshest stream you’ll ever know. You can wash, and the water never stagnates, so it’s safe to drink, too.”
They followed him several hundred feet to the clearest water they’d ever seen. Instantly, Julius went down the side bank and dipped his water bottle in, collecting from the top, climbed back up, and took a long drink.
“Surely, you boil your water, boy! Are you crazy?”
“It’s the cleanest safest stream in the world. Trust me.”
Jacko moved closer to the edge of the bank and watched the water gush. It glistened almost like diamonds. He went down and stuck his cupped hand in the flow.
Julius was right. It tasted sweet-like with an essence of nectar. When Jacko splashed it on his head, face and hair, his skin seemed to drink it through his pores.
“This place is amazing,” said Uncle Bally, who’d managed to shimmy his way down. “You think it’s magical?” he asked Jacko out of the corner of his mouth.
“I do,” he replied certainly.
Then another memory came back to him as he watched his uncle, sitting on the ground, unwrapping his sore foot and splashing water on it.
“Come on,” he said, pulling him up.
“I don’t want to get into the same place we’re drinking.”
“No, if it is what I think it is, it won’t matter. This water will never get us sick.”
He helped his uncle limp his way down the mud.
“Stick your whole foot in the water, past your ankle.”
All the while, Julius watched, silently.
His uncle got a funny look on his face after a bit.
“What’s wrong?”
“My ankle doesn’t hurt anymore.”
He turned and walked up and down the bank a few paces.
“It’s almost like it was never sprained.”
“The River Styx,” said Jacko under his voice.
“The River Styx,” said Julius, who’d come down the bank and, now, stood beside him, “was a place where dead souls go.”
“Yes, but not according to the epic poem about Hera, who favored the goddess, Thetis. She gave birth to Achilles, who was dipped in the River Styx. That’s what made him indestructible, well, except his ankles and feet.”
“Maybe his ankle wasn’t as twisted as you thought,” said Julius. “You Americans have quite the imagination. You think we’re all superstitious. Look I’m Greco-Latin, and not even I believe this stuff.”
Though they didn’t argue with Julius, they couldn’t help but exchange knowing looks again.
They spent the rest of the day hunting pheasants and peacocks, which Uncle Bally, then, taught them how to smoke. It made their packs heavy, but now that his ankle was better, he could handle it.
That night, Jacko caught Uncle Bally smoking and watching Julius with a look of curiosity. He shifted his eyes to Julius. He looked too innocent to be a warrior. But then, who was he to judge? He asked himself and rolled over onto his side.
The next morni
ng, they had their dandelion coffee and headed out after some eggs and apples.
For a brief time that day, the sun broke out, though it hardly looked cozy against the terrible cherry red sky. Instead it broke out into a violent orange that burned the eyes upon even trying to look upward. For a while, they even contemplated traveling at night. Luckily, it was only temporary. Several hours later, the clouds moved in and covered the sun almost completely.
Up the Rise
Chapter 9
Over the next week, they made much progress. To Jacko’s delight, they covered fifteen miles each day, only breaking for lunches of smoked fish and water. But the day they finally reached the mountain base, the temperatures dropped, dramatically, and it even rained.
“This has never happened before,” said Julius, from under a plastic green parka. “This place has never been affected by weather. It’s just been the same every day, except for when the skies turned red.”
Jacko and Uncle Bally didn’t like the sound of that, but they kept quiet as usual.
They stood, facing a fifteen foot mound that, right above it, was a jagged rock cliff. The cliff was approximately 10 feet thick, and appeared to go around the mountain and wind up to the top, disappearing into the thick cloud layer that shrouded the summit.
“I don’t see any paths,” said Uncle Bally to Jacko.
“What do you think we should do? Climb up the hill, or walk around and look for the supposed trail?” asked Julius.
Jacko looked at Uncle Bally who was looking at the circumference of the hill, which was as big as a mall. Then he stepped back a bit and looked at the jagged rock above the hill.
“Uncle Bally, look,” he said, pointing to the cliffs.
The winding white-ish rock had deep horizontal lines etched, purposefully, into them: long lines from the top to the bottom that looked almost like a sign, telling them they were in the right place.
“That does look like it could be a trail,” said Uncle Bally. “But what if it really goes around like that?”
He was right to be concerned. Such a trail could increase their travel time from a couple days to many weeks.
“We have no choice but to turn back,” he said, sounding hopeful that Jacko would agree.
Something was nagging Jacko, though.
“We have to get up this hill,” he said, scratching his head. “I don’t think that’s the trail; it’s just a sign, letting us know we’re in the right place.”
“Jacko, a climb up this hill could kill us.”
“Yeah,” said Julius. “And even if we make it, when we get up there, we won’t have enough food to endure such a winding trail!”