The Kingdom on the Edge of Reality (12 page)

"Referees!" said the abbot.

"The abbot's correct," said Émile.

"I'm afraid so, dear," said Jenna.

"But surely there have always been straightjackets," said Albert, but he didn't seem convinced. He was just swimming against the tide.

"Madmen, yes; straightjackets, no," said the abbot. "The straightjacket was invented in the late eighteenth century, and was originally called a straight waistcoat."

"Oh, very well, I concede!" said Albert, pushing his sleeve up and extending his bare forearm to the abbot, who licked his first two fingers and gave Albert a stinging slap on the arm.

"Ouch!" said Albert, and everybody laughed.

"Pesti-what?" Brother Joseph said to me.

I understood now: modern words were forbidden. "I don't know what you mean," I side-stepped. "All I said was Bless the Child." And I tented my fingers together very piously.

"Nice try," said Brother Joseph, licking two fingers.

"Oh, very well, I concede!" I said, mimicking Albert's intonation perfectly, and that got a very good laugh. It was apparently all right to make fun of the king in that situation. God was the king in the monastery, and that gave Albert a little break.

I pulled back my sleeve and got my sting on the arm, and it made me feel merry and happy. It was part of my initiation. I was less of an outsider than I'd been when supper began.

The conversation moved on to local matters, local people, and local animals. I sat and listened, soaking up names and bits of lore. While I was listening, I wandered through that incredible kingdom with my imagination. People were having supper, putting the children to bed, generally wrapping it up for the day because it was getting too dark to work.

In another part of the world, people were flipping on the electric lights and getting set for the swing shift. Here, darkness was filling the valley with an inevitability that was quite thrilling. We weren't in some national park a few miles off the highway. We couldn't drive into town to see a movie, or go home to the suburbs where the television and the washing machine and the dishwasher were all ready and willing to work all night if we wanted them to.

No, the planet that contained the whole modern experience might just as well have been in some other solar system, it seemed that far away. And it seemed a queer place, like a funny old legend, not quite real anymore. A dreamy mist was already developing around my memories there. Even the pathos was gone from the story. It was just an ancient and rather obvious parable about how not to live.

Our life here borrowed nothing from that civilization, not a yard of synthetic cloth, not a tool or a trick, not one paper match. Yet nothing was missing. That in itself was a tremendous revelation, but it was only the beginning. Something that had very definitely been missing from my life was beginning to stir inside me.

How can I describe it? My skin felt like it was all one continuous cover and I could feel my body inside it. It wasn't as if I had one hand over there and one leg over there and my head somewhere up on a shelf, the way I was accustomed to feeling. I never used to be aware of my body unless something called my attention to it. Now I was aware of my whole body and the skin around it. It wasn't just an abstract skin. It was my living skin.

What was making such a profound difference in the way I felt? It was everything around me. The chair that I was sitting on, the clothes we were all wearing, every plank and peg in that whole monastery, every single thing in that entire river valley without exception had been handmade out of whatever was available from the valley itself by the people who lived here. There was nothing around me that came out of a chemical vat or was cranked out by machines and disaffected people who punched time cards and then drove home to watch TV.

I got up and walked slowly around the room; everything I touched seemed to touch me back and speak to me in some very personal way about the person who had made it. That was the genius of Albert's time machine, and somehow that was making me feel the way I felt.

Someone touched me on my shoulder and when I turned, there was Albert. "Yes, your majesty?"

"Nicely done, old boy," said Albert. "I knew you were a natural." And somehow I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Does it show?" I said, amazed.

"I told you that you'd be in for a very pleasant surprise."

"But did you . . . I mean when you were planning all this, you couldn't possibly have known . . ."

"No, it was something we all discovered together over a period of time. In the very early days we still had a few artifacts from the modern age. We thought that would be all right because frankly we couldn't imagine how we would get along without them."

"Like clocks."

"Exactly! And when we finally realized that their presence was spoiling something very marvelous and powerful, something none of us had ever experienced before—well, into the big bonfire they went. From that point on, nothing was ever imported again."

"My skin feels different."

Albert laughed. "Oh yes, I know the feeling. Go take a walk out under the stars and see what that's like."

So I went back out into the meadow with my cloak wrapped tightly around me, and stood under the huge bowl of the night, all stippled with hundreds of thousands of little dots of light that were all huge, flaming suns a zillion miles away. The feeling swelled up inside me until I could hardly breathe except with great, gasping breaths. Then it subsided, percolating away with little bubbles of joy and power.

I didn't feel insignificant standing between dark mountains under the infinity of space. Rather I felt like it all belonged to me. I was part of it and it was part of me, the wind and the sky and the cold and the darkness. What was it that Gordon had said?
It has to do with what a human being really is.

Just at that moment one of the brightest shooting stars I'd ever seen hurtled across the sky; as I turned to follow its path, I felt the breeze of something that whipped right past my face. Without thinking, I dropped down and ran crouching across the lawn until I reached the shelter of the arched doorway.

What the hell was that? Had someone taken a shot at me? It must have been a night bird or a hunting bat. Still, I had a funny feeling that wouldn't go away.

I thought about those two boys whose butts I'd kicked in the forest that afternoon. They had no good reason to like me much after that incident. I recalled that Albert's son had attacked me with a sword in a hot-headed way, and had said he would kill me. But my intuition told me I had little to fear from those boys

Who else then? No one came to mind, and once again I told myself that it must have been some flying creature, nothing more; still, I decided I'd better go back inside. I passed Rudy Strapp in the hallway, and he paused to take a long look at me. "Something happen to you?"

"No, I don't think so. Something flew by my face in the dark. Probably a bat. It startled me."

He continued to watch me. "Let me give you a little tip. Don't take too many chances until you know this place better."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"Use your head. Don't be foolish. You're in a strange place. Doesn't that sound like good advice?" He continued down the hall, but I had a strong feeling there was more he could have told me. I put a smile on my face and went back to join the crowd.

"Sir Jack," said Albert, "we're all going to the chapel for a meditation before we turn in. Won't you join us?"

"I don't know how to meditate."

There was a ripple of laughter, but it was such a friendly-sounding laughter that I had to join in.

"That's no problem," said Albert. "We don't know how to do it either!" Everyone laughed even harder. "But it's something we're all trying very hard to learn." Several heads nodded agreement. "What is meditation anyway?" Albert went on. "You sit still and you try to put aside your restless thoughts. The intention is to have some kind of communion with the Divine. Is it easy? No, not so easy particularly in the beginning because all our restless habits oppose it. But what it can do for us is profound. It can make a continuous subtle improvement in every aspect of your life; and that's why we do it. Would you like to try?"

We filed into a small chapel with two windows looking out onto the darkness. I chose a seat far from both windows. The abbot gave a short prayer evoking the divine Presence and asking for assistance in our efforts. Then there was silence.

Much as I didn't want to disturb the others, I couldn't seem to get comfortable however I tried sitting, and I developed little itches everywhere that demanded attention. After about ten minutes of that torture, Albert said softly, "Jack, can you feel your heart beating in your chest?"

"Yes, I can."

"Can you feel the pulse in your hands?"

"Yes," I said after a few moments.

"Try taking a little tour all over your body and see how many places you can feel that pulse. At the same time, try to be aware as your breath goes in and as it goes out. In and out, in and out, feeling the pulse at the same time. Try that."

Silence ensued, and I found that by following his instructions, I was more comfortable. Soon, the itching subsided and I began to feel a sense of peacefulness augmented by the peaceful night. Even the monotonous night noises of crickets and tree frogs seemed to blend together with the pulse of my heart.

How long I was sitting there I haven't any idea, but finally Albert tapped me on the shoulder and we let ourselves quietly out of the chapel, leaving the monks and the abbot sitting in the candlelight.

"That wasn't so unpleasant, was it?"

"No, I liked it."

"I don't think you can really appreciate what this kingdom has to offer, or what life has to offer, for that matter, unless you make a habit of meditation."

"If you say so, my liege," I yawned, and suddenly I felt like I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. He showed me to a cell with a bed that was on the hard side but comfortable enough. I fell asleep quickly, but not before I made sure the shutters were bolted and my sword lay close by.

In the forenoon of the following day Sir Leo arrived with a small escort of soldiers, and we all rode in procession to the castle. This was Albert's final homecoming after many absences over the last fifteen years, and the kingdom was celebrating as though it was a holiday.

The soldiers rode with banners on their staffs that featured a white dragon on a blue field, and Albert and Jenna wore cloaks with the same device. Rudy and I rode behind them and I felt merry and fine. My outlook had been altered in a certain way by what had happened in the dark outside the monastery and also by Rudy Strapp's enigmatic advice about watching my step, and part of my mind was on the alert, scanning the crowds gathered to watch Albert ride in. But I had also decided that morning that if I was going to live fearfully as a knight in Albert's kingdom, then I might as well get a bag of food and start back through the woods toward the life I had left behind. On the contrary, I was determined to enjoy myself and to rediscover the feeling of connectedness I had experienced the night before.

Looking around, I saw no signs of danger or antagonism, but only happy and eager faces. Our procession was as good as a parade and everyone came to watch us. Albert was the center of attention, and it was clear that he was beloved by his people. Many greeted him and smiled at him; Albert smiled at everyone, and greeted people here and there by name, and sometimes inquired after a person's family or their particular enterprise.

Jenna was also very popular and many of the young girls gave her little bouquets. The servants carried baskets for the flowers, and after Jenna had acknowledged the gift of a bouquet, it was passed back to them. I could see in the adoring eyes of the girls that they dreamed of growing up just like Jenna, so beautiful, so poised, and betrothed to a king. Truly Albert and Jenna were a living fairy tale to these people.

I also drew my share of attention as the mysterious new arrival. Many scrutinized me, and I saw their eyes flick back and forth between my face and my sword. No doubt there were a good many rumors flying around about who I was and why I had come. It made me smile to think about it. Who was I? What was I doing here? Good questions!

As we approached the castle I was struck once again by the same feelings I had experienced when I had seen it from a distance. The castle beckoned to me; it made me want to own it and live there. But owning a castle had never been one of my dreams. I knew nothing about castles and had no particular interest in them. So why should I covet this one? It made me wonder whether the designer, Joel Mason, had conceived it with that effect in mind, weaving something irresistible right into the architecture.

Our procession poured over the drawbridge and under the portcullis into a great courtyard where even more people were waiting for us. A cheer rang out from the crowd that startled birds into flight from every battlement. Albert turned in his saddle to acknowledge the cheering, and it made me feel sad about my drifty life. I knew no crowd anywhere would ever welcome me that way.

On the steps of the castle was a small group of nobles who also looked glad to see Albert. As we were dismounting, one of the noblemen held up a hand to me in greeting; it took me only a few seconds to recognize him as another acquaintance from my prep school days. We had never been particularly close, nor did I remember him being close to anyone else; back then, he seemed to find everyone and everything equally ludicrous. But he had been a good person to hang out with when I was taking life too seriously, and I was glad to see him now.

"So
you're
the Earl of Griswold. This is too funny," I said, looking him up and down. "Harvey, you don't look like you've changed a bit."

"I'm getting a lot more pussy," he said.

That made me laugh, and the laughter felt good. "Well, that's an improvement," I said, for his remark had bridged the gap all the way back to the days of our mid-teens.

"Yes," he said, his eyes twinkling, "that
is
an improvement. How about yourself?"