by Amanda Vink
“Come,” Seif instructed. “We have to go by foot now. It’s a long journey to the top of the mountain.”
Seif led the way, Frank was in the middle, and Marjorie brought up the back. During the journey, Seif explained what he knew of Sri Pada. “The mountain is cherished by Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus alike. If it’s the actual footprint of Adam, Lord Shiva, or the Buddha, I don’t know, but Young seems to think so.”
Marjorie stepped over shallow root systems and large overturned palm trees. Given how wild this area seemed, she guessed they weren’t using a main path. Soon, they started up the side of the mountain, and it wasn’t long before they met stairs carved into the side. Farther ahead, iron stanchions helped pilgrims along. Marjorie was surprised to see other people making the climb, although there were not many of them. She hadn’t realized that Sri Pada was so much of a tourist destination. Thinking about the dangers that lay ahead, it made her nervous. She didn’t want innocent people to get hurt. After a time, she noted that all of them seemed to be coming down, and no one else was going up.
As if reading her mind, Seif continued, “Young arranged for the entire mountain to be closed off to conduct the ceremony. That’s why we came from this side. There’s not enough of them to cover the whole mountain.”
The longer they climbed, the hotter and more tired they became. The humidity pressed upon them, so different from what they had grown accustomed to in the desert climate. From their vantage point, Marjorie could see for miles around. The dense forest overtook the entire island, quickly reclaiming any land if left unattended. In the far distance, Marjorie could see large fields sown with tea leaves.
She longed for her camera so that she might capture the moment and the view.
Now there was no one coming down from the mountain, and their small group was alone. They had been at it for hours, and they stopped for a short break. Seif dug around in the bag he had taken from the car and pulled out three strange fruits that Marjorie had never seen before. They were pink with yellow tendrils poking out of the side. Seif cut one open, revealing a white, seeded interior, and he distributed it to Marjorie first.
She refused, looking away. Maybe I need your help, but I don’t have to like it. Seif’s face didn’t reveal what he was thinking. Marjorie saw him slip the fruit into Frank’s hands. Frank used his teeth to dig at the inside, and he considered Seif while he chewed. “You’re military?” he questioned.
“Ex-military,” Seif answered.
“How did you end up in all this?” Frank asked.
Marjorie glared at Frank. She remembered how he had let DuPont off the hook, how he had spoken of his brother. Maybe Frank just had a soft heart when it came to people doing bad things. Marjorie wasn’t sure she could feel the same. After all, everyone had a choice in the end.
Seif shrugged, noncommittal. Good. I don’t want to know about him. I don’t want to know how he got involved with Richard. Despite these abrasive thoughts, Marjorie couldn’t help listening in.
But then Seif saw Marjorie looking at him. She watched him consider for a moment, and then he answered. “After the Egyptian Revolution in 1922, they had little need for a man of my … abilities. They didn’t want individuals who had done well under the British occupation of the country. My wife had gotten used to certain privileges. My son attended an expensive school. I promised him I would do whatever it took to give him a better life. I didn’t want him to end up in the military like me. So when jobs came to me, it was hard to say no.”
Marjorie had trouble imagining Seif with a wife and children. She tried to picture him smiling, scooping his son in his arms and indulging him. But that doesn’t change what he’s done.
Seif shrugged again. “It’s no excuse, I know that. But I did what I had to do.”
Marjorie narrowed her eyes at him, but she didn’t say anything. Despite the silence, her mind turned. What would I do? How far would she go if it meant keeping her loved ones safe? She stared into the distance for some time, until finally Seif rose. “We should go,” he said.
They went into the forest. Traveling this way was difficult—and every step had to be fought for. Dense vegetation covered the entire mountain, even to the very top. The sun disappeared, and night fell. The mountain became cold, the winds blowing ferociously. The ringing of a bell surrounded them.
Eventually, they reached the top of the mountain, but from this side, all was rocky and difficult to traverse. At the top of the peak, a temple stood. Lights flickered from within, and torches illuminated a platform underneath the structure. Marjorie would’ve been relieved to see this place if she didn’t dread facing the people inside. All she could hope was that Hamid was safe and sound.
“We’ll split up now,” Seif said. “You find the boy, and I’ll find the box of seeds. They’ll need it to get to Paradise. Leave the stairs. The soldiers are not far away.”
Before he darted into the dense growth, he turned and stared hard at Marjorie. His expression was so intense that Marjorie gasped. Then he said, “May Allah smile on you.”
Marjorie and Frank climbed onto the roof to get a closer look. From this position, gazing down into the courtyard within, they saw Richard. He faced what Marjorie could only assume was the footprint—a small space protected by a stone wall, a very small room, perhaps the size of a water closet.
Hamid stood at the room’s entrance, unharmed. In his hands he carried the box from Darius’s tomb. Around them, a handful of men dressed in long robes carried ancient books.
But at the sound of a gunshot, the ritual stopped. Richard whipped around, gun at the ready, but then he visibly relaxed. Marjorie saw two guards coming up the stairs, and they carried someone between them.
It was Seif, but she almost didn’t recognize him. He no longer stood tall and proud. The men dumped him in a heap before Richard. His hair was a mess, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Marjorie saw him push himself up, and he began to try to say something.
Richard pulled out a gun, and without further thought, he shot Seif in the head. The shot echoed around the mountain, and the sound was still ringing out when Seif’s body crumpled to the ground. Marjorie buried her face in Frank’s arm, stifling her surprised gasp. She had never seen anyone kill another person in cold blood. She felt bile rising in her throat, and she tried to stop herself from throwing up. After a nudge from Frank, she forced herself to look again. He was right. It was no time to hide.
Hamid tried to run, but one of the guards grabbed him and lifted him into the air. His legs kicked in many directions as he struggled to break free.
Richard turned and made some demands, but Marjorie and Frank couldn’t hear; they were too far away. The guard brought Hamid close to the footprint. Richard gripped the boy’s hand, and Marjorie almost cried out watching Hamid’s expression twist into one of pain. “You’re hurting me!” he cried.
Richard ignored him and forced his hand over the footprint. Then he ripped the box open and dumped the seeds into Hamid’s hand. The boy cried out, and at the same time a ray of light appeared from the heavens, perfectly straight.
Then, all of a sudden, Richard and Hamid disappeared. The rest of the robed men followed into the light, vanishing.
***
By the time Marjorie and Frank made it down into the temple, there was nothing left. The light had faded, along with their hopes of following.
The imprint felt cool to the touch. It was a large print, really too big to be a human’s foot. But she couldn’t deny the heel and the arch were especially apparent. It really did look like a human footprint.
Her eyes scanned the heavens. Clouds covered the sky. Mist filled the atmosphere, and soon more rain would come. Where have they gone? More importantly, how can we follow?
Marjorie stood up, wrapping her arms around her body. She shivered—whether from the cold or from the entire experience, she didn’t know.
Frank stood over the body of Seif. Still and lifeless, he stared into ob
livion. Even in death, he wore a small, knowing smile on his lips. It reminded Marjorie of a death mask, and she shivered more.
She watched Frank bend down and close Seif’s eyes. Then he spoke low under his breath, and Marjorie heard the whispers of a prayer, melancholy and beautiful. Finally, he stood up and crossed himself.
When Marjorie spoke, her voice sounded shell-shocked. “He said if his death helped me, he would accept it.”
He turned to look at Marjorie, anguish spread over his features. “You are not responsible for this, Marjorie.”
The knowledge rested heavily on her shoulders. He was caught on purpose. He gave away his life for us. Suddenly, any ill thoughts she bore him melted away. Forgiveness settled into place. It was still a heavy burden, but it was not as bad as hatred.
Frank reached out and grabbed Marjorie’s hand. He sighed, deeply distressed. “I guess we’ve failed. The beacon—whatever the heck it was—is gone. And Hamid with it.” His shoulders sagged in defeat. “I guess in the end, Young wins after all.”
Marjorie felt her resolve harden in her heart. “I can’t believe that,” she said. “We didn’t come this far to lose now.” She busied herself looking around for anything they could use, but Frank didn’t move. He watched her, hopelessness written all over his face. She ran her hands over the imprint again. “Work,” she hissed. “This has to work.” Finally, she sat back. She just had to think.
Her eyes fell on Seif’s body, and she had one last idea. He had gone off in search of the box of seeds. He clearly knew he was heading into trouble. Why did you do that? she wondered. Maybe his body would provide her with a clue. She noticed one of his hands was clenched tight, even in death.
He’s holding something!
She reached down, careful not to think of the fact he was very dead, and pulled his hand open. The muscles were still soft and his body still warm. Rigor mortis had not set in yet, so his palm opened easily. Inside rested a single seed.
“Sometimes you need to have faith,” Marjorie laughed, delighted.
“He came through, just as he said he would.”
Marjorie willed herself to study the man’s face. “Rest in peace,” she said. “May God have mercy on you.”
Turning away from him, she studied the small seed in her hand. It looked just like the one she used to get to Ceylon in the first place. It was very small—with any kind of gust, it would fly away, never to be seen again.
“Do you think it’s even possible for us to make it to Paradise without Hamid?” she asked. “The prophecy and all that. I used a seed back in Iraq, but I didn’t make it to Paradise. I only came here.”
She must’ve looked doubtful because Frank pinched her elbow. “Sometimes you need to have faith,” he echoed her. She smirked at him.
“I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”
They stood together and turned toward the footprint. Stepping up, she held out the seed in her palm over the imprint. The wind started to pick up, and it howled in her ears.
“Wait,” Frank said. He looked down at her with burning intensity. “Just in case we don’t make it, I want you to know this is the best adventure I’ve ever had.” Then he reached out and smoothed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He leaned in, and his lips covered hers. Marjorie kissed him back. With her free hand, she grasped his hand.
She said, “Here’s to Paradise.” As she said the words, she opened her other hand and let the seed fall into the footprint.
Wind swirled around them and light engulfed them. Marjorie felt herself grow buoyant, as if her soul was no longer attached to her body. It wasn’t painful—it was almost as if someone had dulled all the nerve endings on her body. Except her hand. She could still feel Frank’s hand tightly gripping hers.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It felt like a dream.
Soft grass covered the earth, tussocks sprawled intermittently. Familiar plants—ferns, lilies, and roses—lined the edges of the forest where they stood. The air smelled of vanilla—and Marjorie noticed the orchid Vanilla planifolia. On Earth, it could only be pollinated in nature by a bee in Central America. Plants Marjorie had never seen before also surrounded them. She suspected they no longer existed on Earth—or maybe they never had.
One such plant waved by her feet. Its outer leaves were tipped purple, and when she neared it, she noticed it had a spicy smell. But it was unlike anything Marjorie had ever experienced. She took a deep breath, the aroma tingling her nostrils. “This is incredible,” she said.
“This is Paradise.” Frank’s hand still solidly locked onto hers. He looked around, awed. Marjorie recognized the expression—exactly what she felt. She looked up, taking it all in again.
The sky didn’t seem to be any color—only brightness came from it. Of course not, Marjorie thought. The sky on Earth was only blue because of the way sunlight scatters. Here, did sunlight even exist? Who else has seen this place?
With his free hand, Frank pulled Uncle Charlie’s gun. He let go of her hand to take the safety off, but all of a sudden he dropped it.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, that’s cold!” he said, rubbing his hand and shaking it out.
“I have a feeling weapons won’t help us here,” she told him.
“That’s good for Young,” Frank reasoned, doubtfully.
“And good for us. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of being shot at.”
“Cheers,” Frank said.
Just then, a blue morpho butterfly moved in front of their vision. Marjorie couldn’t help but take a few steps toward it. She had never seen a live one, but she had always wanted to. Again, she wished she had her camera. She longed to document this new world.
She realized with a start that she felt no pain. She poked around her abdomen, still bandaged tight. It’s not even tender. She couldn’t believe it—she pulled her shirt out from her pants and checked the area. It was completely healed. She continued to take in her surroundings. Unbelievable!
There were other creatures too. Birds darted from branch to branch before her. Out of the dark forest, she felt eyes on her. A small monkey-like creature poked its head out of the brush. Upon seeing her, it ducked back inside and disappeared.
She felt like an intruder.
She reached an intersection with six paths leading off into different directions. They reminded her of the circular roundabouts of Buffalo. Each path seemed to radiate out from the central point. The path to the immediate right looked identical to the path next to it, and the path next to that, and so on, as including the path she had just disembarked from.
Any guess is as good as the next one, she thought. She chose the path directly across so that they would continue in a straight line. At least that way they would know where they came from. Well, not really. Anything could happen here.
They trudged through, staying close to one another.
“Frank, look!” Marjorie cried. When she had turned to look back, she realized that the forest path had disappeared behind them. The trees and brush had closed themselves up—and when they turned it was only to look at a wall of greenery. “It seems like there’s only one direction to go in,” she said.
But somehow, Marjorie knew they were on the right path. She couldn’t explain it, but the path seemed to be pulling her forward, just as the box and the water in the pool. It was like she was tethered to something. She didn’t know what or ultimately whether or not that was a good thing.
Neither of them was sure how long they had been there or how long they had been walking—or over what kind of distance. In fact, time seemed different in this place. Because there was no sun—or even a real sky—it was hard to tell what time it was. But after a while, it became clear the brightness around them was fading. Eventually, night fell on Paradise, but it was still not completely dark. Instead, light seemed to emanate from the very living things surrounding them. The trees glowed—the grasses were bright. Even Frank’s skin glowed, seemingly from within.
“Look at
you!” Marjorie said. She touched him, almost expecting him to be hot, like a lamp generating heat.
“Me? Look at you!”
She held up her hands and saw her skin illuminated too. “Unbelievable!”
“Do you think anyone back home would believe this?” he asked.
She grinned at him. “Not a chance. What do you suppose we tell them when we get home?”
A worried expression came over him. “I hope we get back home. What to tell people is a secondary problem.”
They walked on, and finally the forest changed. The trees became less condensed. They were giving way to something else. Almost from out of nowhere, a great tree appeared out of the forest. It must’ve been the very center of Paradise—they didn’t know how they knew it, but they did.
“The Tree of Life!” both of them exclaimed together. Even though they were not out of danger, Marjorie couldn’t help but delight in it. They had come all this way, and they had found it. There was something so beautiful about that. Marjorie thought of her father, and she wished he was there to see it.
“It’s real,” Marjorie exclaimed.
She wrapped her arms around Frank, and he lifted her off the ground. Together, they laughed and enjoyed this moment of victory. Finally, he put her back down, and they moved closer to examine the tree.
The tree looked massive—larger than any tree they had ever seen. Trees grew new rings with each year of their life, and this tree was likely one of the oldest trees ever. Its trunk spanned wider than a riverbed, and gnarled knots dotted its limbs. It was a beautiful old tree. It resembled a banyan, but it was not that. Marjorie couldn’t classify it. It was a variety that had not been seen on Earth for some time, if ever.
There was no sign of anyone else.
The pull Marjorie felt grew deeper now. It came from the center of her chest, and her arms and legs were no match for the sensation. She moved steadily toward the tree. She heard Frank say her name, but it was no use. She was beyond stopping now.