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Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1) Page 12
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She considered it, and said, “Jan, I am so sorry about how I treated you, the things I’ve done here.” Martha said. What else? Martha continued, “They made me crazy in that awful school, and I just wasn’t myself. Please, please forgive me,” she begged. After a short silence she said, “Jan, I feel different now, and I know what I’ve done to you is terrible. I promise I won’t be mean to you anymore.”
There was no reaction from behind the couch.
Martha bent a little closer, to where she could see Jan’s face. He was staring at her, still defiant. Was there something different in his eyes this time? Martha moved right up to the space behind the sofa, on her knees, holding her eye contact with Jan.
“I am so, so sorry, sweetie. They hurt Mama in school, really, really bad.” She paused, looking at Jan dearly, looking past his hate to what they had before. She hoped it was there, in spite of the distrusting look on his face, and continued, “They hurt Mama, just like you. They, they —” She was choking out her words now, and could not speak clearly. Her mind became flooded with the memories of the tortures she had endured, as she also recalled the awful photos of Jan being tortured.
Martha became lost in this, breaking down and weeping. She folded up in her kneeling position. Her head was almost touching the floor, face in her hands, as if trying to contain her deep, uncontrolled sobbing.
Jan stirred from behind the couch at the scene before him. It may have been because he felt that she couldn’t attack him in this weakened state of hers — he came closer to the edge to look at her.
Martha heard him move, and turned her head in Jan’s direction. His eyes were emotionless, but they did not have the hate in them that was there before. She said, “Mama’s so sorry,” as she raised her upper torso, still kneeling, keeping eye contact. Between sobs, she looked, pleadingly at Jan, and asked, “Could you please forgive me — and — could you — come out?”
She crawled a distance away from the end of the sofa to give him some space, and waited hopefully. She continued to wait as Jan stirred, restless now, behind the sofa.
Jan did eventually crawl out, confused, but he had to come out some time. He slowly stood up in front of her, looking at her, waiting for, what, he did not know —
He was not expecting her next request.
Martha looked at him with great sincerity, and said, “Jan, I need to show you that I’m OK now. I really am. I need my little boy back, and only you can give him to me.” She paused, holding her gaze. Should I try? She tried. “Jan, dear, is there any way — could you —” She stopped. He’ll never do it, I’ll scare him away. She ignored the thought and asked him anyway, “Could you — could you give me a little hug? I really, really need one right now.”
Jan looked down from her pleading expression. He gazed through the floor as in a trance, rubbing his right toes in a circle on the floor. The conflict was clearly evident, and he answered, “I can’t —” He paused, trying to find the way to say it, “— but he can.”
“Who, dear?” Martha asked, wiping her eyes, sniffing up the tears.
“The little boy that used to live here.” Jan slowly stepped towards Martha. He did not appear afraid.
Martha gave a choking gasp at his response, and looking at him with great sympathy, said, “Yes, yes, please, please, let him come to Mama!” while holding out her arms, still kneeling.
Jan hesitated. “Don’t look, look over there,” he said, pointing to the living room entrance.
Martha, heart leaping, obliged, and looked away.
Jan slowly came to her. Putting his arms up over her shoulders and onto her back, he gave Martha the most delicious hug she had ever felt in her entire life. She let loose a torrent of tears, sobbing spasmodically, as Jan laid his head on her shoulder, patting her back slowly and rhythmically. He stared off into the distance, as if still in a trance, showing no emotion. This went on for a while, then Martha did look at Jan, and with a tender smile said, “Thank you Jan, thank you. I’ll never forget this as long as I live.”
Then as she was looking at his wrist, she said, “I think it’s time to take care of you. Let’s clean you up.”
Considering that Jan and his mother were both still physically and mentally tramatized, weakened, and trying to heal, the rest of the day was filled with simply showering, dressing wounds, and then resting.
After they had tidied themselves up, they took a nap together in Martha’s bedroom.
They were awakened by Griswolt’s voice, as he was shocked by the scene before him upon entering the bedroom. At first glance, he thought they were both dead.
“What the —” Griswolt loudly exclaimed, and both Martha and Jan opened their eyes. Martha smiled contentedly at Jan, and lovingly stroked his arm.
Jan sat up rubbing his eyes and said, “Hi Dad.” Then he said, “I’m hungry.”
Griswolt was still standing there with his lower jaw dropped open, the tips of his tongue loosely hanging out. He had come home early because his meeting at work had concluded. He had been enormously apprehensive on his way home, not knowing what to expect. He had called home a number of times from work, but there was no answer, as Martha had turned the phone off. He just stood and stared. In fact, the scene before him was so surreal, he felt disoriented. When he realized that it was “safe”, he walked toward the bed quickly, as if everything were normal. It wasn’t, not yet.
Martha shot up in bed and said, “Don’t!” She stuck her finger pointed up in the air again.
Jan dodged Martha’s arm, and putting his hand on it, said to her, “He’s OK.”
Griswolt stopped dead in his tracks. “Can I come and sit with you two?” he asked awkwardly, like a school kid.
Jan said, “Sure, come over with us!”
Martha kept a keen eye on Griswolt and warned, “Just don’t touch me, I can’t —” and she looked at Griswolt with confusion in her eyes. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t let him touch her, and now she did not want him touching Jan, either.
Griswolt made his way slowly to the bed, and sat on Jan’s side. He gently rubbed Jan’s crest, rattling Martha, and shaking his head said, “You both look great. How —” He stopped, and then continuing said, “This is wonderful. Thank you both, you are amazing.”
Martha broke her gaze, and looked away. Why can’t I handle this, she thought to herself. I thought everything was going to be all right, but now —
Griswolt didn’t care about the rejection. It was so nice to see them together, like normal. Well, normal enough.
Jan looked at his mother and asked, “Can we eat soon?”
Martha started to get up, and said, “Well, let’s see what we have in the kitchen.”
Griswolt said, “No, let me get dinner for us. I’ll take care of it.” He did not want to change anything he saw there. He turned and left the bedroom, happier than he had been in quite a while.
Griswolt prepared a quick dinner, and they all gathered in the kitchen to eat. This was their first official meal together, and he relished all of it. I thought they were lost forever, he thought to himself during dinner. It is so hard to understand — it’s like a miracle. During dinner, Griswolt asked Martha, “So what happened today? How did things change so quickly?”
Whenever Griswolt would speak, Martha would get a shiver down her spine to the tip of her tail. It would twitch, and she could not control it. His male voice triggered it. She would essentially snap her replies at him, if she responded at all. She could not tell him the truth, which further complicated things. After a while, her tone lowered, and she became more civil.
Jan was comfortable now, and was more responsive. He still, however, held onto the detached demeanor somewhat.
When dinner was over, Griswolt retired to the living room. Martha had offered to clean up after dinner, which he welcomed. Jan stayed in the living room with his dad and played a game of “Stack” with him.
Martha joined them later, but she sat by herself on the chair, reading a magazine.
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“I see you tended to Jan’s wounds,” Griswolt said to Martha gratefully. “Thank you.”
Martha looked at Griswolt with a pursed half-smile, but then quickly avoided his gaze. The evening went on in largely the same awkward manner, and at the end of it, Jan went to his bedroom. A little later, Martha went down to say goodnight to him.
Chapter Nine
A Bright New Night
J
an had just settled into his bed when his mother came in from upstairs.
Martha walked over to the side of his bed. She sat down on the side of the bed, proceeding to give him a goodnight hug, kiss, and saying, “Goodn—” Jan bolted up out of bed, screaming, “Don’t touch me!” He was standing on the floor on the other side of the bed now.
Martha, startled by his reaction now, rose and quickly told him, “It’s all right Jan, I won’t touch you. I’m sorry I surprised you. I understand, I still feel like that now —” She hung her head and continued, “— with your father.” Then she lifted her head, and catching his eyes said, “We’re going to get better, I know it. We will be happy again.” With a smile she said, “Goodnight, Jan.”
Jan was standing there, his heart still pounding. Why did you just scare me? You won’t hurt me now, I know it — why am I still afraid? He did not return her “Goodnight” gniteerg. He stood there in his red and yellow dotted pajamas, waiting for her to leave.
Martha knew that he only needed a little more time, just as she did, so she simply went upstairs for the night.
After he lay back down in bed, Jan’s heartbeat began to slow. He started thinking about the day. He was not so afraid now, but was still extremely conflicted. “Love is death, isn’t it?” he asked himself.
Why does it feel so good, then? He thought about how scary yet nice it felt to hug his mother earlier today, and how he did not feel as frightened and panicked as before. He could not understand why his fear came back so fast — and what about love? “If love is bad, why does it make things better?” he asked to the dark room.
“Love is bad only to the dragon,” the voice said.
“You!” Jan said. “I remember you!” You helped me in the kitchen!” Jan suddenly felt very safe. The voice seemed to come from inside of him, but it was the gentlest adult male voice. It felt good — expanding comfort, pleasance, came with the presence of the voice.
“Can I ask you something?” Jan queried.
“What would you like to ask?” the voice responded.
“Can you tell me why I was afraid of Mama tonight?” Jan wanted to know. He felt that the voice would somehow know something about this.
“It was the dragon,” the voice answered. “The dragon is driven to hate and fears love. The school made your dragon stronger, and brought it close to the center of your mind. It would have stayed there for a long time if it were not for your mother’s actions. She saved you from your dragon today.”
Jan was confused. “How did she save me?”
The voice said, “She made you remember love. The dragon cannot stand the thought of love. When you accepted it, and chose to forgive your mother for a moment, the light of that decision arose from your true center, weakened the dragon, driving it back into the far edges of your mind.”
Jan became concerned, “Will it come back?”
“It did tonight, when she startled you in bed. As long as you walk this world, the dragon can return,” the voice replied. Then the voice said, “God protects the center. Relax and sleep child, you have won the day. Well done, Jan!”
The voice then appeared to fade away, and Jan curled up on his side, eyes closed and relaxed, smiling. He stretched, gave a yawn, and drifted off into a pleasant night’s sleep.
As Jan’s body was slowly releasing, he slipped deeper and deeper, and became barely aware of a whispering in his ears. It sounded like many voices, male and female, all whispering unintelligible words. The whispering then fell silent at the reappearance of the voice.
In the dawning of a dream, Jan found himself in his kitchen, and the voice was above the kitchen table, in a diffused extremely white light, very reminiscent of when he had been a toddler confronting the trachna. Although the voice sounded like it was coming from his own thoughts, it also seemed to be part of the lovely light suspended softly before him. Jan was standing on the chair, pondering the light — so bright yet soft, so gentle — so purely white.
“How could I forget you?” he asked the light, knowing that someone was there. “Who are you?” Jan asked the light.
The voice spoke, and it said, “I am the Guide, Jan. Please take my hand.”
Jan wondered about this. He was thinking, what hand?
Then he saw it. A hand slowly appeared in the light, and Jan found himself wondering why he hadn’t seen it before. He knew that somehow it was there the whole time.
“Take my hand, Jan,” the voice repeated.
Jan slowly reached his hand out to the light, feeling the opposite of a chill as his hand crossed over into it. The gentlest expanding warmth filled his hand as he continued, tentatively grasping the hand presented to him. The remarkable warm feeling traveled up his arm, and his heart deeply accepted it. From there, his whole body seemed to be filled with this wonderful presence, inside and out. As he felt the glow of this, his vision opened. He saw more in the light, starting with the hand, then the arm, and then before he knew it, the experience changed. Jan was holding the hand of what seemed like an angel standing next to him, beside the table now, in the kitchen.
Jan looked closely at the hand. The each scale was glowing, perfectly smooth as glass, and rounded — the scales together appeared countless in number and depth. The Guide patiently waited as Jan intimately examined hand and arm, which extended from the brilliant white robe he was wearing, and then Jan’s attention was turned to the whole. The robe looked as if it were woven from threads of light. He looked up.
The Guide’s face was stunning, glowing. His shade of color appeared to alternate between white light and random striking pure colors of the rainbow, depending on each instant’s perception. All of the Guide’s scales were translucent over what appeared to be light underneath. His body scales projected thin prism-like rainbows of color around their outlines as well. They appeared to be scales within scales, like mirrors within mirrors. It was all very mesmerizing to Jan.
“You are so beautiful! How? What are you?” Jan was in absolute awe. His scales — what is it? Each one looks like a star, as deep as the sky, but they’re small, here in front of me. So beautiful, so strange — so perfect.
“What am I?” The Guide responded, “I am your future. I am everyone’s future. I come to those in the world who the Author has chosen for special uses. Everyone has a special use. Some of these are especially critical to the timing of the plan. You are one of these. I am here to teach, and you are here to learn.”
“What do you want me to learn?” Jan asked, still in a state of awe. He would do anything for this person — just to have his presence.
“You need to learn many things, but for now, you need to learn about the dragon,” The Guide said. “Here,” he said, “Let me show you something”. Then he reached over and pinched Jan in the arm.
“Ow!” Jan said, surprised, as he backed away.
“Now then,” the Guide said. “Did that hurt?”
“Yes!” said Jan, as he was rubbing his arm.
“Tell me now,” the Guide gently challenged, “How can your arm hurt if this is a dream?”
Jan was standing there, rubbing his arm. He’s right, you know, he thought to himself, this is a dream. As he continued rubbing his arm, he realized that it didn’t hurt at all. He had been hoodwinked — by himself. He unexpectedly felt foolish.
“You see Jan,” the Guide continued, “This is a part of you that is not part of the world of harm. You need to become more aware of this part of you, if you are to be brave in the world of harm. When your dragon rises, you will forget this part of you. When you forget this
part of you, your dragon rises, because of your world. We must protect your memory by binding the dragon. We should do this tonight.”
Jan was nodding his head. For now, he only understood that he did not want the dragon, and that the Guide knew how to keep the dragon away. “What is the dragon?” he asked, a little fearful of the answer.
“It is that. The fear you feel when thinking about it. The dragon is a place of bad memories inside you and everybody. It needs you to be afraid, because if it can make you afraid, you become bound to it.”
“What do you want me to do?” Jan asked the Guide.
“Please hold my hand again Jan,” the Guide requested.
Jan took hold of the Guide’s hand.
The Guide continued, “Now, Jan, I want you to think, as clearly as
you can, about the love-reprogramming scho —” Jan recoiled at the thought. He let go of the Guide’s hand and said, “No! I won’t go there!”
The Guide slowly squatted down, and looked Jan eye to eye.
Jan was quite easily mesmerized by the empathetic eyes and loving expression on the face of the Guide. “I love you,” Jan found himself saying.
“I know,” said the Guide, returning the love as Jan’s heart warmed. “Trust me in this, Jan. You will understand when we are through. Can you trust me for a little while longer?”
Jan diverted his gaze. Should I? I don’t want to think about that school. But — “Will you be there with me all the time?” he asked.
The Guide broke into a loving smile, “Yes, I will, the entire time you stay with it, I will be with you, Jan.”
Jan was ready, “OK, then, what do you want me to do?”
“Hold my hand,” the Guide said, having a seat beside Jan.
Jan held the Guide’s hand, and then said, “Now what?”
The Guide replied, “I want you to return your mind to the first thing you can remember about the love-destruction school.”
Jan felt a flash of fear when he remembered taking his one last glance at his mother in front of the school when the guards knocked her unconscious. He saw her slumping body being held up as she was attacked. After a moment, Jan realized something, and said, “I don’t feel anything right now. I thought I was afraid. She’s not there now — she’s safe here at home.”