Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy Page 9

  I shook my head. I switched to English. “Do I sound any different?”

  “No. Should you?”

  How could that be? We were hearing each other in our own language. I could probably speak to her in Hebrew and she’d understand me just as well. I remembered what the old woman had said. Maybe we were in a different reality.

  “Keep going,” I urged her. “I want to hear your story.”

  Shale leaned over and kissed the rabbit. Cherios cooed.

  “What did the rabbit say?” I meant it as a joke but Shale didn’t.

  “She said to make sure I tell you about the king.”

  “The king?”

  “The king of the garden. Now shush. Be quiet.”

  I chuckled. “I promise to be quiet.”

  Shale patted Much-Afraid as the dog leaned in close to her—as if she didn’t want to miss a word of Shale’s story.

  “I suppose it all started with Much-Afraid.” Shale glanced down at the dog. “I was having problems in school—kids bullying me. My mom had remarried. No one understood me, including my mom or my stepfather.”

  Shale gulped in a deep breath of stale cave air. “Even the teachers at school needled me.”

  She looked away. “I did have one friend, Rachel, but when a pervert attacked me in the hallway and I set him straight, I was expelled. Rachel wasn’t allowed to be my friend anymore.”

  My mind went to 2015. The evening news was filled with such stories. That didn’t happen here—at least I’d never heard about it.

  Shale shifted in her chair. I remained still so I wouldn’t interrupt her thoughts.

  Shale shared her story in minute detail. Then she brought up her father and told me about a gift she had received from him. Her eyes lit up when she explained about the appearance of a strange dog that wanted to be her friend—but the apartment where she lived wouldn’t allow her to keep the animal.

  “Where was God in all of this?” she asked.

  I understood her feelings. Where was God when you needed him?

  Shale stroked Cherios. “I followed the dog into the woods and something happened. I don’t remember what, except that I fell and was knocked out. When I came to, I saw Much-Afraid. She reminded me of the animal from my favorite children’s story, The Donkey and the King.

  Shale squinted. “It was as if something from my past that was meaningful came alive. Maybe I clung to that because I wanted to believe that something or somebody cared about me.”

  Shale shrugged. “The dog didn’t leave me, but she was far away. I couldn’t touch her.”

  Much-Afraid nudged Shale’s hand and whimpered.

  “Yes, I’m getting to that. Just wait.”

  Shale laughed. “Winter came alive like Christmas. You know how it is when you’re in a beautiful dream and the alarm goes off? For a brief instant, before the dream leaves you, you hate to wake up.”

  I nodded.

  “It was like that. Three white doves landed on me. They cooed, though I couldn’t understand them. I guess I couldn’t talk to animals yet. I knew they wanted to help me. They kissed the wound on my head. A pulsating light made beautiful music. The sounds radiated from the ground and then all around.”

  Shale waved her hand. “As mysteriously as the doves came, they flew away. When I looked up, multi-colored lights led to an open door. Diamonds sparkled around the opening. I wanted to enter the door, but I wasn’t sure if I could put weight on my ankle.”

  I glanced down at Shale’s leg and ankle and admired her slender lines.

  Shale smiled at Much-Afraid. “I heard the voice for the first time. “Are you okay?” she asked me. I couldn’t tell where the voice came from. I looked for the dog, but I didn’t see her.”

  Shale laughed. “That’s when I named her Much-Afraid—the character from the children’s story. I sensed she was nearby.”

  Shale stopped. “Are you sure you want to hear all of this?”

  “Yes, I do. Please keep going.”

  Shale continued. “As the light faded, the door became more visible, and I saw Much-Afraid.

  “I wasn’t sure if the voice was hers—I mean, I had never heard a dog talk, but no one was around. The light was beautiful, but different. The bubbles of many colors bounced—I had no fear at all.”

  Shale’s experience was more uplifting than mine was.

  She laughed. “I told Much-Afraid to wait. I caught up to her, but she slipped through my fingers.

  “You still want me to keep going?”

  “Please.”

  Shale took another breath.

  Much-Afraid stood on her hind legs and nudged Shale’s arm.

  “Yes, now I know it was you, but I didn’t know then.”

  The dog whimpered and plopped on the floor with her ears straight up. The magic of the moment confounded me.

  Shale continued. “I followed Much-Afraid through the door and arrived at a beautiful garden. Bright-colored flowers covered the rolling hills and cascading vines clung to hanging walls—and the air was pure, as if you could taste it.”

  Shale closed her eyes. “The garden seemed perfect, but I discovered it wasn’t all beautiful. Something evil wanted me. Does that sound weird?”

  “No.”

  Shale bit her lip. “I had a secret that kept coming to mind, something I wanted to forget. So in this beautiful garden, something evil kept bringing up this thing I didn’t want to remember.”

  Shale shrugged. “I was afraid, but I didn’t know how to get back. I heard voices.”

  The young girl glanced at Cherios. “I followed the voices and that’s when I stumbled on Cherios and Baruch.”

  Shale giggled. “Imagine this. The two of them were lounging under an apple tree, without a care in the world. They were talking as we are. I couldn’t believe I understood what they were saying.”

  I smiled.

  Shale stroked Cherios’ head. “Yes, you gave me a beautiful flower.”

  “Anyway, I’m making this story way too long, but it is a beautiful story.” A look of resignation crossed her face. “In the garden, things were not as they appeared. Dark creatures had invaded. Both Baruch and Cherios were terrified of them.”

  Shale became sad. “I couldn’t understand how such a beautiful garden could be tainted. The vile creatures smelled like rotten eggs, decaying carcasses. I was frightened witless when they chased us from the garden.”

  I remembered the stink of the bag woman—it was the smell of rotten eggs.

  Shale shuddered. “We barely escaped. If it hadn’t been for Baruch, I guess I would have been eaten.”

  I thought about Shale’s story. Were our experiences related in some way? “What happened then?”

  Shale shared the rest of her story. As she spoke, I began to understand how Much-Afraid knew Shale.

  Shale snickered. “When I discovered I was back in time, I nearly fainted. I had bought a dress and when the woman handed me the change, I saw the image of Julius Caesar on the coin. How can anyone go back in time thousands of years, for goodness’ sake?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  Shale’s face turned serious and her eyes widened. “But that wasn’t the biggest surprise.”

  “What was the biggest surprise?”

  Shale giggled. “When you helped me off the donkey and told me my father was expecting me.”

  I gulped.

  Shale sighed. “The father I never knew—and still don’t know. Even in this world, my father doesn’t care about me.”

  “That’s not true, Shale. Don’t think that.” What else could I say?

  “But I have a stinking stepmother.” Shale laughed. “Just my luck.”

  Shale picked at the fur on Cherios’ head. “Sorry, that wasn’t very nice.”

  I let the comment go. “So where does Judd fit into this?”

  The color left Shale’s face. She flinched and shook her head. “Later.”

  I’d have to wait to find out that part.

/>   Shale continued. “After meeting my stepmother, I went up to my room and fell asleep. I don’t know how long I slept, maybe an hour, and in my dream I heard a dog barking.”

  Shale glanced at Much-Afraid. “Guess who I heard?”

  I nodded. I leaned back comparing Shale’s story with mine. How did they fit together? I hadn’t been to a garden. Our stories weren’t the same, but we had both arrived at the same place in the first century.

  Shale touched my arm. “You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

  Her words jarred me. “Shale, you’re not crazy. If you were, I would know. I was in a psychiatric ward.”

  She pulled away. “What?” she blurted out, “Tell me you aren’t psycho.”

  I had overstated my case. “Relax.”

  Shale composed herself, much to my relief. How much did I want to tell her? She had been open but didn’t reveal all of her secrets.

  “Where should I start?”

  Shale said, “Why don’t you begin by telling me how you have contact lenses when we are in a place without iPhones or TVs or toilets that flush. What are you holding back on me?”

  She was right. “First I need to put this in my eye.” I walked towards the back to get some water. It would give me a moment to compose my thoughts. If I said too much, would she reject me—or be bored?

  I returned to the table and began. “Your father will be here soon. Things are not as they appear. I mean, you’re confused, right?”

  Shale nodded. “That’s an understatement.”

  I told her about my past, that I was two or three years into her future, and my thoughts about more than one reality or place existing at the same time.

  I shared a little about my family. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about my father’s disappearance, since Shale had her own father to worry about.

  When I told her about Dr. Luke, she interrupted me. “You know Doctor Luke?”

  “Yes. You say that as if you know him.”

  “I saw him yesterday in a small town on the way here.”

  “Strange you would see him also.”

  Shale nodded.

  I went on to explain how I arrived at her father’s house and came to be a mentor to Nathan. “So here I am,” I finished, “wondering why I’m here and how I will ever get back.”

  Shale laughed. “That makes two of us. Maybe we were supposed to meet.”

  I noticed Judd in the doorway. What had he done to cause her such anxiety? When she realized Judd had been eavesdropping, I explained, “He’s not the same Judd from your own time. He’s a counterpart—he didn’t go through a door and travel to this world as we’ve done.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I don’t get it either,” I admitted.

  Shale shook her head as if disagreeing with me. “He has to be the same person.”

  “He’s the same person, but it’s as if we’re in a parallel universe. Suppose you had been born in this time and in this country? This would be your world.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Shale confessed.

  “I’m not sure I do either, but some things seem to stay the same.”

  Shale’s eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

  I remembered the ventriloquist’s words. Could there be a connection? “Maybe we are here to make choices, deal with personal problems.”

  “That’s philosophical,” Shale said. “So my father is my problem?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “What’s yours?”

  That was a loaded question. Would I tell her even if I knew? “My family isn’t here except for a sister who owns a small shop in Dothan. At least I haven’t met anyone else. I’m related in some way to Mari, but she won’t tell me how.”

  Shale glanced at Cherios and shot a look at Baruch, who was still in the back stall. “The animals—they keep talking about a king.”

  “I don’t know anything about a king, except—”

  “Except what?”

  I hesitated. “I don’t know if it’s a coincidence, but many years ago Herod killed all the babies in Bethlehem—believing a king had been born in the small town.”

  Shale readjusted herself on the bench, still clutching Cherios. “What do you mean, he killed all the babies? Why?”

  “He was afraid another king would take over—the prophets predicted a king would come from Bethlehem and that was King Herod’s territory.”

  I added, “When you put it into historical context, it’s a little eerie. I mean, I know in first century Israel a false prophet came on the scene that many called a king—Yeshua of Nazareth.”

  Shale glanced away, as if becoming bored by my historical references, and changed the subject abruptly. She clasped her hands and said excitedly with a twinkle in her eye. “So tell me about you. You said you come from 2015—I want to hear all about 2015 and where you live.”

  My father was still alive in 2012. So much had changed. I grimaced. “I wouldn’t want to be you and relive the last three years.”

  Shale’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  I told her about the deepening rift between Israel and the United States, the threat of war, and rising tensions. I followed it up with the words, “When you reject God, bad things happen. Judgment always follows.”

  I studied the ground, as I felt conflicted. Did I believe that? I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore.

  Shale’s voice brought me back to the present. “You scare me, Daniel. I don’t know if I ever want to go back.”

  I sighed. “It’s not like we’re in paradise here.” My words hung over us. Could we both get back to our own time and be friends—or maybe more?

  I glanced at the door and lowered my voice so Judd couldn’t hear. “Where in the U.S. are you from?”

  “Atlanta, Georgia.”

  I smiled. I remembered the picture of my cousin on our refrigerator. “I have a distant relative who lives there. I doubt that you would know her, though.”

  “Who is it?” Shale asked.

  “Rachel Franco.”

  Shale’s face lit up. “You’re kidding me. Rachel is my best friend.”

  I stared at Shale. “Wow! That’s unbelievable. Is that the same Rachel who couldn’t be your friend?”

  Shale nodded. “Yes.”

  There were so many coincidences.

  Shale reached her hand across the table and touched my arm. “Daniel, do you miss home?”

  I nodded. “I especially miss my computer.”

  Shale nodded. “Me, too. Toilets and showers”—she smirked and rolled her eyes—“any running water. I hate that I have to fetch water every day. Women spend far too much time doing stupid, mundane things here.”

  I laughed.

  Her eyes grew big. “I’ll never complain about emptying the dishwasher again.”

  I nodded. “I’d sure like to take in a soccer game.”

  Shale giggled. “I’m not much into soccer, but a baseball game would be great, with a couple of hotdogs layered with mustard and ketchup, and then fireworks after the game.”

  “We actually have a national baseball team in Israel now, though I’ve never been to a game.”

  Shale yawned. “A strong cup of coffee from Starbucks would be awesome. I hate getting up so early.”

  We both laughed.

  “That old witch made me get up at the crack of dawn to fetch a pail of water.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  The smile left her lips. I bet she was remembering Judd. Could I think of a way to get her mind off him? Her spunkiness was uplifting. I wanted to spend more time with her, but approaching hoof beats interrupted our conversation.

  “Your father is here.”

  “Really? How do you know?”

  “I perceive things. Like this morning at the well. How do you think I knew something was wrong?”

  Shale shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  I stood. “Come and meet your father—maybe one of the reasons why you’re
here. By the way, your father is a kind man.”

  “Thanks,” Shale said.

  I took Cherios from her and put the rabbit in the stall with Baruch. Shale followed me outside. The brightness was blinding after being in the dark cave. Brutus had tethered his horse to the post. Shale touched my arm.

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “If you wait, I’ll introduce you—if it would make you less nervous. Right now I need to feed and water Brutus’s horse.”

  Shale nodded, as if she were willing to wait for me.

  Suddenly a crow appeared on the far post of the portico. He flapped his wings and screeched annoyingly. I glanced at Shale who seemed focused on the bird.

  “You think I should go inside—he’s waiting for me?” she asked.

  The crow screeched back.

  “Are you talking to that crow?” I asked.

  Shale nodded.

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  Suddenly the bird flew away.

  Shale smiled, but didn’t say anything.

  I glanced around. Where was Judd when you needed him? I walked Brutus’s horse to the trough for fresh water and food. When I returned to the portico, Shale had already gone inside. I stood outside the door and remembered my father.

  CHAPTER 21 CONFRONTATION

  I cracked the door open but couldn’t hear anything. I was reluctant to eavesdrop on what should be a private reunion between the two of them. I decided to go back to the cave. Now that I knew what the animals meant to Shale, I wanted to put Baruch in the front stall and move Assassin to the back. No sooner had I done so than Judd opened the door to the cave. When he saw the switch, he fumed. “What’d you do that for?”

  “That’s Baruch’s old stall.”

  “How do you know?”

  I picked up a bucket and hung it on the wall. “I just know.”

  Judd frowned. “How did you hit it off with Brutus’s daughter?”

  “What?” I asked.

  Judd ignored my question. “Whatever she told you isn’t true.”

  “She didn’t tell me anything about you.”

  Judd shrugged.

  “Why were you at the well?” I asked.

  “I don’t have to tell you,” Judd said tersely.