The Lover's Parable Through A Seven World Journey (9 page)

The dense, green brush and thick trees decorated with dangling, leafy vines that surrounded Sofia and John had created an atmosphere of disillusionment, causing them to lose track of the amount of time that had passed by. They did not have to travel far before becoming lost within the woods.

Reaching up to the sky, with a natural pleasure unlike those unbefitting concrete structures of Labor that basked in the same light, the towering trunks held their authoritative position, even blotting out from view the smoke that had been billowing up from the recent destruction to the east. With their hands held together tightly, they slowed the pace and began the ascent of the first of many hills that would need to be conquered before achieving a comfortable distance away from the City.

The steep climb of the first hill that they had to endure required much assistance from the large boulders and rope like vine that, protruding intermittently from the ground, necessitated the use of muscles of which they had used only during those occasions when they would be roof hopping. John struggled to overcome the sharp pains at his side as he grasped and pulled, strained and lifted. His one bare, tender foot, sore and blistered, was unaccustomed to being exposed for such a long period of time, and it hindered his natural, athletic abilities.

Purple flowers, tiny and fragile, peeked out of the green grass in abundant patches, quilted into the fabric of the beautiful tapestry that, at long last, was their own, the paradise they had always wanted to be a part of. There was a faint self awareness of their soiled clothing, thick with the smell of burning rubber and sweat, faces smeared in black soot and dried tears, that appeared so out of place amongst the fresh and pure atmosphere of the new world.

Assisting as best she could, Sofia began the climb ahead of John. Clinging onto the thick vines streaming along the hill’s side, she held out her hand to him, encouraging him to struggle against the pain.

With the apex of the rocky mound in sight, and their initial steps to freedom long behind them, the first comforting rest that they were hoping for appeared to be soon approaching.

Decorated in gorgeously, towering trees covered over with thick leafy ropes, green moss growing from their trunks’ sides, shimmering leaves and colorful winged creatures of various types, the hill, leveling off and flattening out, brought them an easing of the journey, allowing them, once again, to hold one another’s hand out of pleasure and not by mere necessity.

With the westerly view of the landscape spreading out before them, John and Sofia found it difficult to express the feelings that were flourishing inside. There was a spectacular wave of thick clouds washing over the distant, rolling, green swells of land. Its beauty was unhindered by the dull presence of Labor’s buildings that were the essence of a suffocating, claustrophobic environment. They were able, for the first time, to fully appreciate the magical wonder of the world beyond the walls without being constrained by the evils of the
City.

The first rest of this new life’s adventure was enjoyed upon the soil’s bed of soft, green blades. Shade was provided by the umbrella-like covering of the tallest of trees that had overlooked this enchanting scenery for a time spanning an unknown multitude of generations.

The opening of the black box was an intense moment for Sofia, as she knew of the importance that Mr. Sanders had placed upon it. John had not had the pleasure of viewing its contents before now. Leaning back against the tree, he began examining them, finding a particular interest in its little black
book.

Intently studying the details of each page, he would occasionally make an examination of the compass in conjunction with the directions being described on its proper use.

“This is amazing,” he said, “Come here and have a look at this.”

As Sofia scooted beside him, he held the apparatus on the flat of his palm and remained still, allowing the needle to come to a
rest.

“It always points in the same direction. It says here,” he paused, scanning for a particular, handwritten passage before pressing his finger upon it and reading aloud.

“When used as a tool in the experienced hand, the map in the back of the book will allow the possessor of said tool to navigate the entire world without limit.”

“That is amazing. So we can go anywhere we want?” Sofia asked, scanning the horizon.

“Anywhere, apparently.”

“But, we need to stay away from the red Xs. That was what Mr. Sanders said, right?”

“The red Xs? Oh, that’s right.”

Turning to the last page and placing his finger on the area far to the northeast of Labor, he said, “These Xs here. Did he tell you something about this place?”

“Well,” Sofia began, “we were interrupted before he was able to give me any detail. He just made it clear that it was a place that we should never go to, that’s all.”

With an inquisitive complexion, John brought the book down to his lap. Seemingly perplexed in thought, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came forth. Giving him the space he needed to think, Sofia did not interrupt. Instead, she sat in quiet patience and waited. After a few moments he spoke up.

“You know what’s different about this?”

“Different about what?” she asked.

“This whole escape from Labor. It’s just different than I had imagined it would be like.”

Sofia thought for a moment, and asked, “Does that bother you?”

“Well, not too much really. I was just thinking, though: this morning when we were on the rooftop, when the Savior lifted over the horizon… it was different, unique, as if a sign was being sent from someone… or, something. It was telling us that we needed to travel towards it, not away from it, to the east: the direction of the
rising.”

Taking the book from his hand, Sofia opened the back cover. Flipping it around, with her finger stationed upon the sketch of the flying machine, she shook her head in disagreement.

“I don’t ever want to go there. Ever. Mr. Sanders would not have warned us about it if it wasn’t a bad place.”

“I won’t take us there,” John said with a short tone. “I know it’s the place of the Red Plant. But it…”

He paused with an air of concern, leaving Sofia hanging on his word.

“What?” Sofia inquired.

“It just felt like,” he hesitated again, placing his fist over his heart, ”someone was calling to me, almost pressuring me to get us to leave the City, to show us something… and then all of this: Mr. Sanders and his plans. It seems far beyond mere coincidence, don’t you think?”

The idea did have an almost queer, even alien, feel to it when the events of the day were placed into the category of
mere coincidence
. But attributing every detail to some conscious, self-aware intelligence was far beyond her comprehension. Was it possible that each event, each step of the day for that matter, was effected by a cause that was directing them in the way they should go? Unable to follow this train of thought into a deeper, more comprehensive series of musings, Sofia stepped off its philosophical path. She felt that, if the causal connections of the events of the day could be traced back to someone or something guiding them along this mysterious journey, then fighting it would be no more fruitful than living the life of a dweller in the tents of Labor. Someone had to make the choice for the two of them. Either she or John would have to take the
lead.

Placing her hand upon his, she consented to him all the responsibility of decision-making. The words were difficult to verbalize at first, but exonerating herself of this duty, she believed, would allow her a greater freedom to be the friend and companion that John needed, allowing him to grow into the resourceful leader they would both require to survive.

“Wherever you go, John, I’ll always be there with you, following close behind,” she professed. “I may not always agree with you. And, sometimes I’ll express my dissatisfactions. But our little tribe, you and me, needs a chief.”

She touched her finger to the tip of his nose, and said, “Tag, you’re it.”

The day was wearing on, and the Savior, looking down from the sky above, was a necessary object for traveling the path ahead. As long as they had the light, the landmarks cataloged by Mr. Sanders would be visible. After many days, they would finally reach the sight on the map marked
Food and Shelter
.

The first night’s sleep was difficult, requiring John and Sofia to secure a temporary dwelling in the back of an outcropping of boulders, of which they were able to locate at the midpoint of one of the hills. There was a small stream nearby that flowed gently through the valley below from which they refreshed themselves, washing off the scrapes and abrasions that they had accumulated during the day’s events. The drips and splashes colliding with the stones and soil along the water’s edge could be heard throughout the night, intermittently interrupted by the howling of distant animals, and the flapping of unseen wings. The snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves consistently startled the young couple out of what minimal sleep they were able to procure, so that by the Savior’s first light they awoke blood-shot in the eyes, too weary to continue at the same pace that they had traveled the previous afternoon.

The brightly colored berries dangling from a nearby patch of green, leafy bushes helped to sustain their appetites on this tolerably cool morning. As neither John nor Sofia had ever had such fresh and sweet edibles before, they laughed and giggled with delight as they ate of the fruit of the land. With an overabundant supply at their disposal, the two of them consumed the treats with such reckless abandon that it did not take long for a sour nausea to settle into their stomachs.

As mid-morning was upon them, the sugar rushing through their blood had awakened their minds, allowing them to think more clearly. Despite the weariness of their bodies, they finally descended the hill and entered into the valley.

Following the stream that had eventually widened out by approximately three meters, the thickness of the brush was considerably denser than the hills above, forcing them to move at a slower pace than they already were. But unlike their travels upon the hilly terrain, they now had an unlimited source of water that would keep them hydrated and cool as the intensity of the Savior’s heat increased throughout the day.