Thura pulled her father close as more tears ran down his cheeks.
“Thura, what keeps my no from becoming a yes?” Ochi whispered.
“Only receiving the forgiveness your father gave you long ago,” Thura whispered back.
At that moment, Ochi realized the peaceful and contented eyes he had been staring at in the water were not his father’s but his own. Standing up and opening his arms wide above the dark expanse, he took a deep breath and jumped. A love he had never felt before wholly immersed him. It was not a mental experience, but a feeling of liberation. Ochi was consumed by the waters and united with all things. He felt alive and connected and free.
While the frigid waters had taken his breath away, he was in no hurry to come back to the surface. Looking up, the light from the torches refracted into ten thousand colors of pure brilliance. Ochi could see his daughter’s silhouette jumping up and down with her arms raised triumphantly in the air. A deep joy welled up from within. But as he began to surface, he saw Thura’s knees to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs directly above him. A massive surge of water rained down on him from overhead with a thunderous explosion bouncing off of every hard surface. Thura’s head popped up above the water as she gasped for air.
“This is freezing! Are you crazy?” she screamed. “I am already hypothermic!”
The father and daughter laughed hysterically as they pulled themselves briskly out of the frigid aquifer.
“What’s this?” Thura asked, leaning over to pick up a folded piece of paper that had fallen out of Ochi’s satchel when he placed it on the ground.
“It’s the last thing I have to face,” Ochi replied, turning toward the settling waters.
“May I read it?” Thura asked.
Ochi solemnly nodded without saying a word. “Father Prodido,” she whispered.
Looking up from the note at her father, Thura wondered what this meant for him and Patrida. A somber seriousness instantly eclipsed the joy and excitement that had just minutes ago filled the cave. Thura had been so preoccupied with her experience in Salome and what it would be like to face her father she had not fully considered all that was at stake for him or what he would have to face when he returned home.
The total weight of what he had been carrying was now in Thura’s chest as she watched him stand stoically and stare into the abyss. What a brave man, she thought. How could they ever understand what he has been through and experienced? Could they ever accept how he has changed?
“So what happens tomorrow morning?” Thura asked, breaking the silence.
“We say our goodbyes at sunrise, and then we try to make it at least halfway back or more,” Ochi said.
“Oh,” Thura replied cautiously. “There is probably no easy way to say this, and I know this will be disappointing for you to hear, but I do not intend on going back to Patrida.”
Ochi turned back to face his daughter.
“I know your journey takes you there to face Prodido and fight for Tyran,” Thura said, “but my journey stops here for now. While I understand why you need to go back, I am not ready. I feel like I need to learn so much more from my grandmother. She has so much more wisdom to give me before I am ready for that kind of confrontation.”
“I understand, Thura,” Ochi replied. “I’m not exactly sure what I’ll say to everyone when I return or how I’ll explain you not being with me, but I’ll have some time to think about that on my way back. But for now, we have a celebration to attend, and I’m sure everyone is waiting for us to return. We should probably get going.”
Ochi grabbed a torch and walked up the winding stairs with Thura carrying her torch right behind him. When they reached the top, Ochi pivoted and looked at the darkened cavern.
“From this moment, things will never be the same, Thura,” Ochi said, slowly but resolutely turning and walking into the starless night with only his torch lighting the way.
CHAPTER 21
The steady and rhythmic cadence of drums, along with Ochi’s heartbeat, grew louder with each step. From within and without
his chest, the deep pounding reverberated. A growing chorus encircling the water labyrinth in Salome intensified. The song itself was unfamiliar with no discernible words. But if Ochi’s emotions could somehow explain what was crying out from within his soul as he approached the village, their song captured it perfectly.
Rather than entering through the back of the village, Ochi and Thura circled to the main entrance. As they walked into the village again, they faced the people of Salome, who encircled the labyrinth. Almost immediately, upon noticing the father and daughter, the drums and singing stopped.
“This love has changed me. Or maybe I should say that your love has changed me,” Ochi said, making sure he made eye contact with every person standing in the circle. “It brought my mother and me back together and allowed me to say I’m sorry. It allowed me to follow my daughter here to begin repairing our broken relationship. It reunited me with my brother and his family, who I never thought I would see again. It led me to you, this beautiful community, to look in your eyes, to hear your stories, to see your children playing, and to realize you are not some faceless enemy or an idea needing to be silenced or driven out and killed. You are a loving community that never needed to welcome me back into your lives. But you did with open arms.
You truly live what you believe. And it’s not preachy or demanding, or judgmental. That’s why I can stand here now with you and tell you how sorry I am. I know you forgave me long ago and had been patiently waiting for this lost son to come home. Well, brothers and sisters, I am home. I am here, now.”
The same young girl who had invited Ochi to eat at her table walked up to him and Thura. Extending her right hand, she led them to the circle and took both of their torches. Seeing that Odigo had saved her a spot next to him on the far left side of the circle, Thura hugged and kissed her father before joining the young man. Almost on cue, the voice of a single female began to sing the same song as before, but this time by herself.
All eyes watched as Ochi lifted his first bare foot and took a step forward on the lush green grass. While his first inclination was to look at those who surrounded him, Ochi remembered Thura’s words of wisdom to let each step be presence and prayer. The blades of grass gently tickled his feet. The soothing sound of water emerged from the deep and filled in the spaces around his path.
On his lips, he repeated words his mother once said when he was a young boy, “Deep calls to deep.” Ochi smiled as he thought of his mother. After Alethes, and now walking the labyrinth, he understood her wisdom from an entirely different perspective. However, he had not seen her around the circle when they arrived.
With his remaining steps along the grassy maze, Ochi prayed for continued peace for his friends in Salome. With another few steps, he prayed for the people of Patrida. As he got closer to the center, he prayed for his family. And then, stepping into the center, his feet covered in the cold spring water, Ochi prayed for Thura, for Father Prodido, for Velos, and for Tyran. May they all find peace as I have found peace, he thought. Ochi then cupped his hands together, placed them in the flow, and drank deeply.
“Ochi,” a familiar baritone called out from behind him at Salome’s entrance. “It appears you have lost sight of the reason you traveled here, my friend.”
Ochi immediately recognized the voice and slowly turned to see a ghoulish image emerge from the darkness. Father Prodido’s face burned from the hostile flames blazing from the torches carried by the Patridian guards around him. Two dozen guards cloaked in black robes with hoods fully draped over their heads rushed into the village. Half of them broke right, while the other half went left, forming two rows following the labyrinth’s contour. One guard carried a Patridian flag with the words Sacrarium Convenae emblazoned on it and planted it in the ground right beside Father Prodido.
The religious leader, adorned in full regalia, also wore a scarlet long-sleeved robe with the gold medallion hanging
from his necklace. While staring at Ochi, who stood paralyzed in the center, Father Prodido began to walk around the labyrinth swinging his censer with burning incense and praying a repetitive prayer aloud for the entire village to hear.
“Father forgive this abomination,” Father Prodido shouted. “Forgive these pagan practices. Forgive this blasphemy. Hear the cries of your lowly servants and our repentant hearts.”
No one in Salome, including Ochi, moved or made a sound. The people were unsure what to do or how to proceed. Father Prodido, feeding on the community’s full attention, made his way back to the entrance and joined the half dozen guards serving as his detail. As the religious leader stepped back in line, Tyran emerged from the darkness and stood next to him.
“Tyran!” Ochi cried out. “Son, please! Let’s not do it like this! It doesn’t have to be this way! Trust me. Let’s talk. Just me and you.”
“This isn’t about Tyran,” Velos called out in a shrill tone as she stepped out from behind the guards. “So stop trying to manipulate him, Ochi!”
The matriarch then held Ochi’s cedar box above her head for all to see. Her image was especially sinister and haunting. Velos appeared as a high priestess with tongues of fire reflecting from her eyes, holding high her sacrifice for all to see.
“This is about you, Ochi, and the way you’ve betrayed your flag, your faith, and your family,” Velos said, now raising her voice louder. “Not only have you abandoned Patrida and Patrida’s God, but you’ve also betrayed your flesh and blood. You’ve abandoned your son. You let your daughter run off with these godforsaken savages, doing God knows what. You’ve turned against me. And in your precious journal you tried to hide beneath the floorboards of our house, you stabbed my brother, your brother-in-law, in the back! After all he has done for you, Ochi! And you better believe he knows everything you wrote about him in these pages.”
Velos removed the leather journal and set the cedar box down on the ground next to her. Opening to the page she had already marked, she began to read the handwritten confession as a litany of accusations against her husband.
I hate Father Prodido. I hate his ideas. I hate his influence. I hate his words. I hate the way he turns people against one another, especially my family. His ideas turned me against my parents, pushed away my daughter, and corrupted my son. As I sit here and write these words, I have so much hatred and regret in my heart. If it would change my relationship with my family, I would surely kill Father Prodido.
“No! No! Please!” Ochi pleaded. “I wrote those words before I began to see everything differently! Before I changed! I regret I ever wrote that down. I wasn’t in a good place. You have to trust me. I would never kill him. I would never kill anyone anymore.”
“Say what you want, Ochi. Those are the words you wrote when you at least still had a spine!” Velos screamed.
“Why did you come here?” Ochi asked frantically. “To harass me? What do you want? If you want to take me back, let’s negotiate. I was planning to travel back to Patrida tomorrow, but you can have me now. Just leave everyone here alone. They’ve done nothing to you. They only want peace.”
“I don’t think Mr. Ochi fully appreciates the pre-dic-a-ment he’s in,” Fovos called out as he removed the black hood from over his face and stepped away from the flag he had planted in the ground next to Father Prodido. “I don’t know. What do the fine people of Salami think? Do you think Mr. Ochi here understands?”
Fovos paced back and forth like a rabid dog, staring at the people with wild eyes and contempt, awaiting a response.
“Not very talkative tonight, huh?” he said. “Was it the Salami reference? Please accept Fovos’ sincerest apologies. I would never want to intentionally hurt the fine people of Salami.”
Fovos ceased his pacing and stood breathing heavily beside Velos, directly facing Ochi, who had not moved an inch from the labyrinth’s center.
“You’re not in any position to negotiate, Ochi!” Fovos shouted. “How about I drag your ass out of that puzzle myself and kick it all the way back to Patrida, you backstabbing traitor!”
“He is right, Ochi. This isn’t a negotiation,” Father Prodido finally spoke, his deep, unemotional voice silencing everyone around him. “You’re coming back to Patrida on our terms. Along with your felonious daughter … ”
The religious leader then turned toward the dark of the first hut and made a summoning motion with his hand. Pali and Machi emerged from behind the structure, dragging a person over to Father Prodido, who subtly smiled as if he had moved his chess piece into check.
“ … and this old woman,” the religious leader said, removing a black cloth sack from Sophia’s head. He then directed his menacing gaze toward a bewildered Ochi, who was still standing in the center of the labyrinth.
“Mom, No!” Ochi screamed as he fell to his knees. “Let her go! She’s done nothing to you! She’s done nothing to anyone!”
From the backside of the circle, Thura screamed over her father’s words and began to cry. The young woman attempted to run toward her grandmother, but after only a couple of steps forward, Odigo grabbed her arm and held her back.
The wailing children that had been terrified by the sight of the cloaked Patridian guards when they first marched into the village began to scream in fear as they saw Sophia surrounded by the shadowy figures. Edo and Tora, both of whom had been standing closest to Ochi when he took his first step in the labyrinth, ran toward Sophia to no avail. Both were promptly wrestled to the ground by Fovos and another guard dressed in black, but their shouting at Father Prodido persisted. Around the perimeter, the circle of people began to break as they suddenly began to understand the situation’s gravity.
Raising his hand into the air, amidst the chaos and confusion that had invaded Salome, Father Prodido waited for silence. For those who were old enough to remember their time in Patrida, the religious leader’s gesture brought back harsh memories.
“Your Excellency,” Father Prodido began, turning toward Tyran with children still crying in the background. “If it pleases you, in light of the evidence presented and these obvious acts of sedition and conspiracy to commit treason with a foreign enemy, shall we have the guilty parties arrested and immediately hanged in Patrida?”
“No! Tyran, please, no! Come to your senses. Do you want to spend your entire life watching your back while he slowly turns Patrida against you too?” Ochi shouted as he pointed at Father Prodido.
“That’s enough, Ochi!” the religious leader shouted back. “Guards, arrest this traitor and his vile daughter!”
“Hold your positions!” Tyran shouted, raising his hand before giving Father Prodido an icy stare. “Allow him to say his peace.”
“Tyran, look at me,” Ochi pleaded as he slowly began to walk back along the path toward the edge of the circle where he first started. “Don’t you remember when we first came here? It was just me and you on this island. This was our place, Tyran. Don’t you remember lying under that massive tree and watching animals scurry above? Don’t you remember sitting next to that giant rock that looked like it went up to the clouds? Don’t you remember our campfires together and running game trails and sitting on the beach while the waves crashed over us? And we would tell stories and laugh until we fell asleep. Don’t you remember those days, son?”
Ochi’s voice began to crack. His eyes appeared red and swollen.
“That’s enough, Ochi!” Velos screamed before Tyran held up his hand to silence her.
“Tyran,” Ochi continued to plead, “you used to rest your head between my arms, and you would call me Kala, and we would laugh ourselves to sleep. Son, please remember. I am so sorry. I failed you, and I understand that now. I thought that what we were creating in Patrida would give us a better life. But I was wrong. It divided us. I know that now. You and I already had it. We had it here before I messed it up. It’s all my fault. I can see that now. But please, Tyran, let’s go back to that place together. I promise you there’s something on
the other side of all this, and I’ve experienced it. Please, say something! Let me know you can see me and can hear what I’m saying!”
Tyran took a few steps forward toward his father. Ochi could see the tears in Tyran’s eyes.
“He is not yours, Ochi!” Father Prodido called out. “He’s mine! I made him who he is, not you! He is the leader you could never be. He is the one who will lead Patrida back to greatness.”
“Tyran, we’ll figure this out,” whispered Ochi, as his son was close enough to hear him. “If you have the command of the guards, have them stand down. They can’t do anything that you don’t tell them.”
“We killed that faithless friend of yours, Ochi,” Father Prodido called out, attempting to put himself between the father and son with his cunning. “He tried to turn Tyran against me, like you have been trying to do. I had to teach Tyran how to handle those who betray Patrida. Is that not right, Tyran?”
“Son, is that true? Please tell me this isn’t true,” Ochi pleaded. “Kaleo isn’t dead, is he?”
“Father, can we go home and talk about it?” Tyran asked with tears now streaming down his cheeks.
The young leader, stricken with grief, took the final step toward Ochi and wrapped his arms around him. Over his father’s shoulder, he stared behind tears at the labyrinth, following the grassy maze to the center of the spring with his eyes. Tyran knew he was so close, yet as his father’s words replayed over and over in his mind, he knew he was so far away.
“You said it yourself, father,” Tyran whispered into Ochi’s ear. “I’m too far gone. Isn’t that what you wrote in your journal?”
“Tyran, I was mistaken,” Ochi whispered. “No one is ever too far gone. You always have a choice. Look at me. Everyone thought I was too far gone, but I’ve changed, son. You’re not too far gone. I can still see the same goodness in you as I did when you were a little boy.”
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