I am a world all my own

Shaped by the fingers of perception

From the hand of experience

As the clay I was at birth

Is slowly sculptured to its form.

Foreword

The war had been won, but not without difficulties. It had continued even after the more traumatic and painful battles had ceased, in a form often more frustrating and confusing. Unlike the previous conflict, this was not a violent war directed to destruction, but, rather, a lonely battle to reconstruct, to gather together the scattered pieces that survived the war and make them function once again as a living organism.

Often during this second struggle he longed to reach back to those who had held his hand as he fought, and to his comrade-in-arms who had shown him how to win, guiding his process through the numerous battles. They had led the way the battlefield and shown him the enemy when he had been too blind and confused to see. He often wished to recapture the emotions he had experienced as they fought, even willing to feel again the pain of battle, because that would allow him to feel the beauty, love, all, and indeed he had held for his friends and its helpless condition. He wished to fight furiously once more, because his companions would stand beside him during the conflict, and that would be worth any wounds sustained. Wounds heal easily, he reflected, when compared with the ache the gone.

He wished to walk again with them through the shimmering magic that had filled the days and experiences and he longed to say the words he had never said. He wanted to let them know that he loved them in a special, wonderful way. A foolish wish, he thought suddenly, smiling rather wistfully. It was a Foolish Wish because he was certain that they already knew, and that there had been words left unspoken by both of them. And somehow, he felt it was better that way. The feelings would have lost something when transferred to words.

Occasionally, by intense concentration, he could envision his friend flying through the air, his wide wings stretched tune their fullest, and the colors flashing brilliantly in the golden red sky. However, the vision was hazy and faded quickly. His friend was no longer reality and only an obscure memory he longed to make real again.

“Oh, you aren’t truly gone!” he exclaimed once, squeezing his eyes tightly closed. “You can’t be gone forever!” But he did not often speak such words, for the answer was painfully obvious. Sometimes he allowed tears to slip by for the wonderful magic he had lost, but the tears rarely came when beckoned. His friend had given him the ability to feel the motions, to love and laugh and cry, and somehow it seemed wrong to cry when he had this great gift to retain the memory. “You are gone forever,” he whispered softly. “You are forever beyond my reach.” He paused, drowning in the words for a minute. Then he said, “But you can’t be gone, because you’re always inside me, releasing tears and laughter, joy and sorrow. With such a gift can I lose you? Are you truly gone, my friend, or do you laugh and cry with me?

1.   Chapter One p. 3

At recess Kevin went out into the field by the outer fence, where he could lay in the long, luscious grass, and be as far away from the other students as was possible. Kevin didn’t like the noisy games they played, and he knew that he was unwelcome to join them anyway. They considered him beneath their concern, but that didn’t bother Kevin, because he cared nothing for them. He liked to lay on the grass and scent the freshness, that wonderful smell of green. Green, he thought, had the most pleasing odor of all the colors. Blue had a pleasant aroma, but there was a special fragrance to green that Kevin felt particularly united with. Brown was the color he liked the least. It frightened and disturbed him because brown was the opposite of green, and green meant life. Kevin was afraid of brown.

Words and laughter drifted the air to his ears. He looked up the happy sounds for a moment, but then buried his head in the grass again because he had seen the sources of the sound were not far away. That surprised Kevin, for he had considered them miles from him and his special feeling of green. Can they hear my thoughts as I hear theirs? he wondered. He tried to bury his awareness in the grass, because then he would hear only the grass and only the grass would be able to hear him. His thoughts were not for noise and the grass was as silent as he.  Can they feel what I feel now? he mused. Can they feel this greenness, my special greenness? It smelled so clean, so alive, and Kevin was afraid he would lose it. If they felt the same thing, then it wasn’t his special feeling, and it would leave him. He calmed himself when he realized that other people would have heard him long ago, were they going to at all.

He breathed in the scent of green, savoring each breath. This is the smell of life, he said. But another voice asked: Then what is the smell of death? Kevin hesitated before he stood up and walked to the patch of brown dirt. He was afraid that he would be unable to truly understand the smell unless he buried his consciousness in it as he had with the green grass. I can’t tell you the meaning of brown, he told that voice, because it will draw me to its fate. The voice replied: Is green stronger than brown?  Kevin stopped to think about that before he pulled some green out of the ground and put it in his hand. You save me green, he told the grass, as he clenched it tightly in his hand. Then he put his nose very close to the brown dirt. It smelled dry. That meant that dryness was the symbol of death, he decided, and moisture that of life.

He looked down at the grass that had protected him, and found its moisture trickling down his hand. It gave up its moisture, the water of life! But it can’t be dead, because it’s still green, the boy thought desperately. But tomorrow it will be brown, that terrible voice told him, so brown is stronger than green.

Kevin dropped the grass. He felt totally defeated.

His thoughts were rudely intruded upon by a loud, jarring noise. Kevin listened to the high pitched squeal of the bell summoning the students from the recess and peace. He had once been underneath it when the bell screamed its wrath like a witch, and Kevin hated it. It had hurt his ears and vibrated his heart, that organ that circulated his blood and life. He had won that battle, he remembered with satisfaction, but every recess it attempted to gain control once more.

I won’t let you, Kevin told it silently.

“Kevin, the bell rang!” someone shouted.

He trembled. Another noise trying to steal away his peace and silence. Surely the world had been created in silence, and all noise was the work of a destructive devil. I hate noise, thought Kevin. It is the creation of bad people. I’m not bad! He pleaded to some accusing voice. “Please I’m not bad!”

“Come on, Kevin! The bell rang!”

You’re like the bell, Kevin said to that voice. You are trying to destroy the smooth stroke of the brush and make the artist jump with surprise. You are trying to change a stroke of beauty into a ragged, startled line.     And what right have you? You are betraying the silence that created its haven for you.

He knew that noisy voice was coming closer. Even the footsteps crackle and rustle in an intruding way, Kevin thought; even walking must be noisy and rude. I hate you, he said, but he did look up because that figure was coming closer and the green could protect him. The figure stopped several feet away from Kevin. “Come on,” it said. “The bell rang! Didn’t you hear it?”

The bell, thought Kevin. Oh, I must go to the classroom or all be late! “I didn’t hear you,” he said. Why didn’t I answer? Kevin wondered.

They were walking back when Kevin saw a long ditch spreading across the field. He remembered jumping over it earlier. Someone had said the school was putting in pipes or repairing them, but he knew what it really was. I jumped over that? Kevin marveled. He looked down at the hole of brown, brown, brown. All that brown, death. How had he made it? Then he remembered that the bell had not rung then, but it had now, and death could catch him. I can’t go over that! He cried silently. He stared at the hole. Did it end? he wondered. The brownness, the death, did it end?

“Come on, we’ll be late! ” a voice intruded as the figure jumped over the hole.

I can’t be late, Kevin explained. You can’t be late to death. Death is forever, and it will wait patiently until I’m not ready, and it can get me easily. I am ready to play down, you told the hole. I’m ready to fight you, so you can’t get me!

“Jump!” the boy shouted at him angrily. ^“I can do it, so can you. Just jump!”

It’s small for you, Kevin said, because it doesn’t want you, but it does want me. You can do it, because it is me the that it wants. Don’t you see? But he could tell that the other boy didn’t understand at all, so he tried again. For you this is a small hole, he explained, but when I try to jump over it the hole will widen and swallow me inside it. Can you understand that?

 Obviously, the boy did not. He leaped back over the small hole and gave Kevin light push. “We’ve got to go!” he said.

Kevin felt himself falling.  Down, down, down.     It would never stop. Death, infinity, forever. He tried to scream, to release his fear in the shattering, jagged breath. But he opened his mouth and heard only silence. Of course, he thought, for the dead do not speak.

“Come on, get up,” said the voice that had pushed him. “You aren’t hurt.” The voice seemed to come from far away. There is a distance between life and death, thought Kevin.      No one can reach past that gap. Nothing could touch him again, for he had been touched by the ultimate hand.

Someone grabbed him and lifted Kevin to his feet. Somehow, the muscles reacted and he walked. Couldn’t he feel it? Kevin wondered, amazed. Didn’t he know that he had reached through death? Kevin knew he was dead. The boy didn’t know it, but he had lifted up a body surrounded by box and dry, brown, dirt. He wondered if the boy had felt the coldness of his body, the dryness of the dirt, or the hardness of the box.

“Sorry we’re late, but Kevin didn’t hear the bell,” the voice beside him told someone.

“Kevin, did you thank him for getting you?” the other voice of Ms. White asked.

There’s a distance between life and death, Kevin thought. He wondered if they felt that distance is clearly as he did.

“He did,” voice beside him said.

“Good. That was very nice of you, Bobby. Kevin, please stay after the class as left for recess. I want to talk to you for a minute.”

You can’t talk to a corpse, Kevin exclaimed but no one heard him; they never did. Alright, he said, I’ll stay after, but then I claim the fight of freedom that the dead deserve. It isn’t fair to hold me back. He thought of the wandering he could do, searching the world without the restraints of his body. Clumsy, nuisance body, he thought, and slapped himself on the knee.

“Are you alright, Kevin?”

Alright, I’ll answer one more question, Kevin said. “Yes!” he shouted and knew that the others barely heard it. They never listened.

“Then please refrain from disturbing the other students,” she suggested.

When they find me dead, it will really disturb them, Kevin told her, but she was listening. People always told him to talk more, but when he did they didn’t ever listen. All right I won’t speak again, he promised.

“Kevin! Kevin!” Someone was shouting at him and it hurt his ears terribly.

“What?” he shouted back, turning to face that horrible sound.

“Why don’t you answer me? You were going to stay in and talk to me remember?”

“Yes,” he shouted. I wish you were dead! He told her. I hate you! Stop yelling, please!

Her voice softened. “Kevin, you haven’t been paying attention in class lately. Is something wrong?”

The rattle of a snake is soft, too, Kevin told himself, and it’s a warning before the venom is planted into your skin. That deadly venom that attacked the blood and heart. “No,” he said, not sure that this was the answer to prolong the time before she struck. He saw that she was holding his hand and jerked it away desperately. She would hold him to make it easier to get her fangs and poison into him.

“Don’t you like me?” she asked.

Snake, he thought. You’re a snake.

“Why not? What have I done?”

You’re going to bite me! He saw her open her mouth and began to run, tripping into desks and books. Then he stopped and turned to look at her. She wasn’t a snake. She was Miss White, his teacher. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m going out to play.”

He went to the swings and relished the motion of up and down until the bell rang. Then he got off the swings and calmly walked into the classroom. Nothing can touch me, he reminded himself.

Someone called to him as he went in, but a girl’s voice said, “Oh, don’t bother him. He lives in his own little world and comes out to visit occasionally!” They laughed and someone yelled, “Turtle!” To him.

My world, thought Kevin, my own little world. At first, he thought it would be a place of parties and happiness, but then he knew it would be green and peaceful. Peace and silence was worth more than loud, screaming parties. No people would be in his little world, and, if there were, they would leave him alone. It would be just like a turtle, he said, thanking the boy who told him that. He wondered what the shell looked like to the turtle. Beautiful, he thought, like the green – moist and alone. Then he remembered that turtles looked out from their shells. He wouldn’t look out. He would be all the way inside where no one could see him. That would be the ultimate peace, he thought.

“It’s almost time to go home,” someone nearby whispered excitedly.

To my world? Kevin asked him, turning around to look at him.

The boy did not reply.

A mass of familiar faces blended together the hours that followed. His mother spoke several words to him when he arrived at his house. He had replied, but didn’t know what he had said. His sister, Stephanie, made a remark with the tone of voice that Kevin had learned to ignore. Stephanie rarely spoke in any other way when her words were directed at him, so he never listened to her. His father had spoken during dinner, but he pretended not to hear. His father always demanded that he shout, whereas other people accepted his normal answers.

His father shouted a lot. The night before Kevin had laid quivering under his blankets because his father and mother were shouting at each other. Go away, he told the noise, but it continued to bang into his ears. Stephanie said it was his fault. It was always his fault, but what had he done?

After dinner Kevin escaped and scrambled up his favorite tree. There, far from the world and sheltered in a sea of green, Kevin felt safe. He was alone, for people who passed beneath him were unaware of his existence. He sat safely upon his branch and searched for his world. He discovered it as the tree gently bowed to the wind.

The boy discovered himself to be upon a rocky path leading a curving journey upward. He began to walk forward, but stopped abruptly. Every movement caused a sharp, darting pain traveling from his legs to his head. It was a distinct wave of pain that seemed to belong to a separate section of him. Rather than overwhelm his mind with the sudden awareness of pain, it was as though he were separated from it by a window and feeling the pain through the protecting shield of glass.

He was uncertain whether to continue the journey or stop and go back. He wasn’t certain it would be worthwhile to go forward, but, somehow, he knew that was the direction he must take. A gently promising force compelled him to move, as though he had felt a brief, vague scent of happiness drifting through the air. All the agony experienced is worth it, he was assured, so the boy clenched his teeth and followed one step with one more step, and then another. Give up! He told himself. Nothing could be worth it! But as he said it he took another step forward. Each time it was more difficult and he was certain he could move no further and each time, he added one more step.

Then it ended. Suddenly. He was no longer on the path and the boy knew that it had been worth the agony. The promise of the path was fulfilled in magnificence the boy could not have imagined. What a sight it was that his eyes beheld! He stood awed, confronted by such splendor as he had never seen before. He was held transfixed by the sight that had been revealed before him. The shock and awe were almost as agonizing as the path had been.

The sight was that of the forest towering above him, but if resembled no forest he had ever seen. Trees shimmered and twinkled with colors totally incomprehensible to man. The boy felt as though the trees were made of crystals, because the colors danced and bounced through and from them, changing colors each time. The colors seem to fly through the air because they moved so fast. Even the ground, a soft spongy material had colors glowing from it. A pinkish fog offset all the other colors in such a way that they were almost like colored raindrops falling from the sky. The boy felt as though he was in the middle of a splash of color, except that no artist had such colors as these to work with.

The flashing of the colors gave the illusion to movement. The change of the trees and those sparks of colors and seemed to leap between the trees made the boy feel that they were dancing a circle around him. They also seem to be singing a soft song, but the boy could feel, rather than hear, the music. It was a song of ebullient joy, but also a song of peace and beauty. It made the boy want to shout to the world of the beauty and wonder that was revealed to him, but it also made him want to sit down and just gaze at such magnificence. He listened carefully, stunned by the seraphic music. No genius, no creator could make such songs as this. It enveloped the boy in peace and joy simultaneously without letting the emotions conflict or confuse him. There were no words, the music was so pure that sound registered with the soul before the mind even came in contact with it. Only raw emotions could allow such direct communication.

He knew it had spoken once before when the voice asked pointedly, “Where are we?”

Reluctantly, the boy forced the golden threads of the music to release them from their bond. His eyes beheld a small creature of slightly less than 3 feet. As with its surroundings, the creature’s colors were bright and unusual, though they lacked the vivid life of the colors in the forest and, the boy realized after a minute, the limited colors followed a set pattern. The wide eyes that dominated the entire body were two brown disks of a brownish black. They seem to be of infinite depth, and the boy tried to avoid looking into them, because they seem to drown him. Instead he concentrated on the mouth, which looked as though it had been an afterthought brought into reality by a small slight. Except when it was open or moving it was hidden by fur.

It opened and moved again. “Where are we?” it repeated in a high pitched plaintive tone.

“I don’t know,” the boy replied, almost automatically. Then he repeated, “I don’t know,” realizing that he really didn’t know. “I’ve never been here before.”

“Neither have I!” squealed the creature in a high pitched voice that reminded the boy and a school bell and was just as painful to him. He wanted to return to the solitude of the music. “I was in the Dull Forest walking home without bothering anyone, and I only wished that I didn’t have so far to walk. Why does Shan always hear every foolish wish? It isn’t fair! Now I don’t even know where I am!”

“The foolish wish,” repeated the boy, puzzled. “What is meant by the foolish Wish? And who is Shan?”

Creatures large eyes turned to gaze more carefully upon the boy, and he struggled not to lose himself in them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were a stranger to this land. There are so many of you people around now,” he said, his voice lowered and more controlled. “You have never been in Shan’s World before, have you?”

“No,” admitted the boy.

“But you’re speaking the same language as I,” said the creature pointing at him menacingly.

“I’ve always spoken this language!” the boy protested. “I know no other tongue!”

“But you are a stranger and you’re speaking of musical vocabulary of Shan’s World, found nowhere else,” the creature challenged.

“I’ve spoken these words as long as I’ve lived,” the boy said, “and I don’t live in Shan’s World”

“But in this world, our language becomes that of all visitors. You don’t realize you’ve never spoken of musical words of Shan’s World, because it comes as naturally as your own language.” Then, in a comforting tone he added, “But it’s natural for strangers to be confused, because Shan’s World is different than the laws and to which you are accustomed.”

But it is impossible to speak a language you don’t know!” the boy proclaimed.

“It’s also impossible to have trees that glimmer with color in your world,” reminded the creature. “But look around you. What is impossible in the places with which you are familiar is quite possible and Shan’s World.”

The boy was silent for a moment, and the two very strange people studied each other. Finally, he said, “If you already knew the answer, then why did you ask me? Were you trying to start an argument?”

“Argument?” asked the other, surprised. “There was no argument! I merely wanted to find out if you knew any why you spoke our language and then I wanted to tell you! Argument? Not in Shan’s World!”

The boy was exasperated. “But that is what you almost began!” he said. “If you almost caused one, then there must be such a thing!”

“Of course, there is!” his companion replied, glaring at him as though he had no intelligence. “It just doesn’t occur in Shan’s World. It might almost become an argument, but it never does.”

The boy was going to respond angrily, when the gentle music and joyful colors lulled him back to the happy feeling of earlier. His anger could not withstand the gentle persuasiveness of the bright trees and enchanting pink fog, coupled with a tune that always soothing in the background,

“What is meant by the Foolish Wish?” he asked.

The creature looked almost disappointed in this reaction when he had expected some annoyance at least. “It is when you wish for things to be as they are not. It is a foolish wish and such things anger Shan. So, he sent me here to punish me, and I must find my own way back home. I am still too young to learn not to wish for foolish things, but that does not interest Shan; all he cares about is wisdom, although he is ignorant! He is a bad thing sometimes. He is never lenient for anyone, even in the smallest ways for the small mistakes, and his word is inflexible, never changing of the different individuals”

“But that is good!” cried the boy. “That is justice.”

“It is not fair justice,” maintained the little creature. “I am his friend, but he doesn’t care. I am punished as the others, as though I, Poggii, am nobody special.”

He paused and then said, “Let us begin the trek homeward.”

The boy held back. “Why must I go?” he asked. “I am not you, and I do not belong here.” He looked back in the direction of the path, but was not surprised to find it gone. Somehow he had known it would not be there.” “I have no place to go, and I don’t want to leave.”

The creature turned to face the boy once more. “And some ways Shan is also wise. He sends us to different places for specific reasons. He must’ve sent me here to bring you back. That is his way of doing things. In some ways he’s very foolish.”

“But…” the boy’s words were lost when the creature took his arm, gently but firmly. Despite his height the inhabitants of shots world an amazing string, and the boy could do nothing but follow Poggii where he led.

Poggii had not been at exaggerating when he had told the boy that they had a long journey ahead of them. It seemed like hours that they walked. The colors were still brilliantly shining and make up the boy walking and lifted his spirits. His feet were beginning to eight and he felt exhausted, all within him there was a peace and security caused by the music and music emitting from nowhere and everywhere. He could not remember ever having felt as self-fulfilled.

The color ended very suddenly. He had had no chance to see it before he was an eight totally different forest. It was as though someone had just changed the picture slides. “We are now entering the dull forest,” announced the creature, his voice not enthusiastic.   Dull, thought the boy, was a perfect description. There were trees, bushes, and the soft, spongey ground in this forest as there had been in the other, but the colors had allowed them to be seen, whereas this forest provided no contrast to show definite shapes. This forest lacked even the greens, browns, and blue and I were found in the forests he was used to. The entire forest, including his companion was a dirty grayish color with no exception, save him and no contrast and all. The ground was up the same material as the other for us but it did not provide the vitality of the first forest. The boy could feel no wind and its soothing fingers were not there to wipe his moist brow. The color, music, and the excitement of the other forest had boosted his spirits and made walking much easier, but now the comfort of beauty was denied and this forest only served to depress him. The silence was as loud as the music had been soft, and it made the boy feel tired and unhappy. “Are we still in Shan’s World?” he asked Poggii, who had become the same dirty gray color as the Forest. His eyes were like two dark spots and seemed to a lost some of their mysterious death when surrounded only by gray.

“Of course.” The eyes turned upon him. “Shan’s World isn’t perfect. This and the dark forest tend to remind one of that.”

Again, they walked wreathed in silence until the boy felt that he was going to drop to his knees and never move again. But walking had become a habit in the hour they had spent in the dull forest.  He almost forgot where he was.

“Does it ever end? He asked

“It will soon,” Poggii promised. “We’re almost where I began, and from there and it shall be easy.”

“To you live in this?” the boy’s voice-reflected the impossibility of this concept. No one could live in such deadness!

His companion sounded shocked at the mere possibility. “Oh, no!” He exclaimed. “Only the dull rats live here and I’ve heard that they’re very unhappy creatures, always complaining am babbling about how unfair everything is. No! I would live here if it was the most celebrated place in Shan’s World.”

“How long does the wasteland last?” the boy asked. He almost bumped into a tree, because it was so easy to forget that there was anything besides the grayness in the forest. He looked carefully for a minute to find out why there was no contrast and all. Then you realize what was missing. The forest had no shadows to darken and lighten areas. It seems strange to the boy.

“Oh, there are acres and acres of it, all exactly alike. When it ends though, and sometimes the end is longer in coming, you’ll be in my forest, and that makes it worth.”  He lowered his voice to a confidential tone. “That is also where Shan lives, but his palace is further to the west. I never seen it because the surrounding forest is too deep to walk through, and he has to fly the people there. Because of that few of us, the people up Shan’s World, have even seen it. In some ways he is so foolish! He doesn’t realize that we might also like to marvel at his palace as his friends have. All we know of it are the wonderful tales we’ve been told. He is selfish and foolish! I wish I could…” the creature broke off looking guilty. “No, I won’t give him the satisfaction of transporting me somewhere for a foolish wish.”

Only about 15 minutes passed before they entered the next forest, but the moments were made of elastic and seemed to stretch themselves and hours. Steps had become automatic and the boy began to believe that it would never end. This mind it slipped over everything as though the forest was made of ice because there was nothing he could focuses attention on.

As before, his eyes did not discover the other forests until after he was in it. One step before he’d been walking in the dull forest, and the next up everything became live around him once more, as though he passed through a wall separating the forests from each other’s view. With that deep sigh he sucked in the air this forest and straightened his slouch in back, killing a revival of life within him. All day but to speak, and he felt like dancing with excitement.

“I was about to go insane out there!” The boy exclaimed. “Never has anything looks so beautiful as this forest! It is certainly welcome change from that other forest. I never want to see the dull forest again.”

A creature gave him an inquiring look, but said nothing.

After five more minutes walking in Shan’s forest, will be stopped. Curious, the boy looked around to see if he could find out the reason for stopping without having to ask his companion. A crime, Portland as any area may my past 3 minutes ago. The trees, and round, the colors, and the general surroundings might belong to either of the two colorful were asleep and through. Giving up, he asked, “Do you live near here?”

Kobe to look at him. “somewhat,” he said.

“Is that why we stop?” Inquired the boy.

His companion did not answer.

“why did we stop?” The boy commanded, peeling an annoying at a year.

“Because,” Poggii said slowly, “because we have reached my destination.”

“I see no reason to stop,” the boy declared feeling that she’ll scamper up his back. The creature had said “my destination” not “our destination.”

“I stop because this is my destination,” will keep repeat it, in a confused, rather disjointed way. “I have to stop year. That is why stop.”

“But why?” cried the boy, the fear having progressed to near panic. He knew what was to happen now. It couldn’t, but it would.

Poggii do not reply or seem to notice the boys creeping the year. He looked off in a group of trees not far in the distance, and told his companion, “This is where we part.”

“But…” Cried the boy. It was too late now for puppy was already gone.

I’m lost, he thought, closing out the colors and music, allowing himself to know only that year, because he knew that fear was real. He didn’t believe that Shan’s World was reality. He told himself, you can’t be lost, because you’re at home hiding in a tree. You haven’t left home, so just believe yourself there and you shall be.

But it didn’t work. He could feel his legs aching from the walk, and he could actually hear the music. That’s bungee ground was beneath his feet, and the forest tits around him. Knowing he was sent home didn’t help because he could feel at home. He could not feel cat than sitting in the tree or hear the sounds of his mother in the kitchen. This was reality to him, and it was a terrifying reality.

All talk to everyone, and listen and do everything right if only you let me go home again! I’m sorry for making mother and dad fight! Please, let me go home! He cried silently.

He looked up suddenly, instinct alive. There was some movement in the beautiful reddish color of the sky. He knew it wasn’t only the movement of colors though his eyes could easily have fooled him. Something in the sky was actually flying, and it was coming to fort Sam. The boy was uncertain how we should react to this new creature of Shan’s World since its first acquaintance of light and deep into the world he did not know and abandoned him there. It would not be wise, the boy decided, to show fright or make any attempt at complete friendliness, but he needed help and to ever was coming might be able to get him to help he needed.

The creatures swooped down court support, who stood watching up without moving. Like everything else in this forest, the creature was colorful, but his color was brighter than any other thing the boy had yet seen in Shan’s World. Its brightness was almost blinding, and it certainly captivated the boy’s undivided attention. This new dweller of Shan’s World a more colors and you never seen, colors that he had not even noticed in this world. However, it was the wings that held his gaze totally transparent. They moved with the rhythm of all winged creatures and shimmered and globe early and late, so much so that the boy was almost admit eyes by their brightness. The wings of the creature, the boy decided at that time, and be the most splendid site to be seen in all the lands of Shan’s World.

The creature of land it directly in front of the boy, who said nothing. For a minute that to stare at each other, the boy having to look up at him, because a preacher was about the size of a large worse. While Poggii’s eyes had been deep, the boy felt almost as though he was losing himself in the depths of this inhabitants our eyes. They were smaller, but had the intensity that Poggii’s eyes had lacked, and the boy had to pull his eyes away to feel as though he were alive. It frightened him. “Hello,” said the figure standing before him.

Closing his eyes, the boy demanded, “Who are you?” He made no attempt to pretend friendliness. Poggii had taught him a lesson about trust, and this was reinforced by the boys view of this creature’s eyes.

“I,” said the creature, causing dramatically the pronoun, “I am Shan.”

The boy gasped. “You’re Shan?” he cried. “you are the Shan of Shan’s World?” it wasn’t certain now how drastically that would change things go. His first companion had made several references to Shan but the boy had found himself disagreeing with all these opinions of things. But it seemed unjust to the others seem quite the heir to the boy. Colby, he decided, was very much biased. As a result, the boy realized that he knew no more about shown the needed any one else in this world except of course that he was the Shan of Shan’s World. No one “

“I’ve never considered it and those exact words,” admitted Shan, “but I believe that I am actually the Shan of Shan’s World, an intent to remain so for some time.”

The boy was uncertain whether he should have shown about going home or not. Perhaps you should be going or saying some things dating humility. However, he knew no official word to protocol, so he didn’t try. “Now I go home?” He asked slowly.

“Of course,” Shan replied. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you, I promise.”

“But I don’t know the way!” The boy exclaimed.

Shan sounded genuinely surprised when he said, “You don’t? Why not? Surely you came here, so you can return the same way.”

“Some creature brought me here and just left me right where I am. I didn’t follow by choice either; he forced me and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t keep track of the way because there was nothing to do it with. Besides, I don’t even know how to leave Shan’s World!” He realized that he sounded rather self-pitying, but he felt the same way and he didn’t care if Shan knew it. All he wanted now was to get home again.

“Oh, how cruel!” exclaimed Shan.

The boy was about to continue and say more, until he remembered that Poggii had said that Shan sent him there to bring the boy back to this forest. He was certain Poggii told the truth, because there been no reason to lie, and suddenly he felt anger surge through him. “And you are to blame! It’s your fault!” he cried. “You knew about it the entire time because you were the one who told him to bring him to me here!”

Shan looked mildly surprised at this attack by the boy. “You and your big World! You think you’re the greatest because you want the master of Shan’s World! Well, I’m not this world, and I don’t belong here, and you can’t order me around here as though you owned me! I’m not a possession of Shan of Shan’s World!” He paused to catch his breath and wait for Shan’s defense so he could yell some more. He was burning with the accumulated anger and it was all directed at Shan.

“You are right, of course,” said Shan. “I thought that you might like to meet me more after you’d learned all about me, such as a foolish and unfair I am that is the usual routine for Poggii.”

The boy was made even more angry when Shan teased the first friend he had had in Shan’s World, forgetting that Poggii had previously been the enemy. “He said a few favorable things, also,” the boy said, “and I don’t agree with any of them!” With these parting words, he marched off to the trees and in which his first companion had disappeared. Shan’s gentle laughter followed him

He walked away 20 paces before Shan realized that the boy was actually walking away and didn’t intend to return. He hurried beside the boy. “You are going the wrong way,” he said gently. “Get on my back and I will bring you to the path that will shall lead you home.”

The boy doubted anything that Shan said, but had to admit, at least to himself, that he didn’t know the way home and would probably be unable to find it on his own. He used the uses scales on Shan’s tail to climb up upon his back. Even enemies, he reflected as he settled himself upon the broad back, can be helpful sometimes.

“Ready?” Asked Shan. Hanging on tightly as the boy confirmed his readiness.

With one mighty thrust of his splendid wings, Shan brought him and the boy soaring towards the sky. The air whistled passed them, whipping the boy’s hair back and causing him to grip Shan’s scales in order that he not be pulled from his back and deposited on the ground. The wind rushed against them, and though the boy did not know how fast they were moving, he knew they were flying faster than he had ever gone before. They flew like this for 10 minutes before Shan began to drip slowly downward. The boy thought despairingly of the hours he and Pogue had walked to get to the other forest. After all that, it took Shan only 10 minutes to fly the same distance. The thought made him grown inwardly.

“There is a path you walked to arrive in Shan’s World,” Shan said. The boy was not surprised, though it had not been there when he and Poggii had begun their journey. Oh well, he reminded himself, this is Shan’s World.

Suddenly he looked around, realizing that it was time to leave the music and colors behind to return to his own world. He might never again see Shan’s World, never again feel the Magic Happiness Dance through him. It was a wonderful place full of beauty and treasures and wonders such as he had never known existed. He found himself even thinking that he would miss Pogue’s complaining wines and Shan’s gentle teasing laugh. Minutes before he had hated them both but now as he looked towards the path that would end it all, he left everything about Shan’s World. “I guess I must go,” he said looking at the forest and at Shan.

“Until we meet again,” Shan said, “and that won’t be long. I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

“You don’t understand,” the boy explained, “I can’t come back. I don’t know how to get here or where it is. This is probably the last time I will ever see either you or this world again.”

“Are you sorry?” asked Shan.

“Yes,” the boy admitted

“Then you’ll find your way back,” Shan remarked, a secret smile in his eyes. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.” With that he disappeared.

The boy’s sighed and looked at the trees and colors dancing between them. To the sky gold and red and shining like the sun; then he looked up the path. The music’s still fresh in his mind he took the first step, bent with agony. He followed it with another, and then one more. Goodbye Shan’s World he whispered, and grit his teeth against the pain of the path. I had was only the promise of home.

He found, to his surprise, that he actually liked Shan very much now that the time for party had arrived. Shan was a part of all that had happened, and what had occurred this visit was fun. The boy was sorry it was over.

“I doubt that,” commented Shan, still with that secret smile on his face. “I’ll be right here; don’t forget. And with that he was gone he just disappeared.

The boy gave the splendor of this world one last glance, and then took his first step away from it. He followed that step with another, and then another. Each step became more difficult, but the boy kept on. Home was not a happy place for him, but it was the only home he had and he knew he had to return.

He was laying in his bed. Slowly Kevin allowed his eyes to roam around the room, and he found it unchanged. That was incredible, though, because it had to be different! This couldn’t be the same room he had slept in since birth! He felt that everything should be changed after the sight he had just seen. At least the room should be more colorful and happier. Unbelievable that he returned to the same light he’d always known! But it was also the same room he had always known, and it was unaltered by the Magic Shan’s World. Even I have not transformed into a new person, he saw, and that hurt more than anything returning to same places he had always known, because they had not seen Shan’s World, and he had. I should be all different he told the mayor, but the image did not change he was still only Kevin.

“It must have been a dream,” he said aloud. But it was so clear! He argued. No dream could have such clarity! When he closed his eyes, he could still see the forest and the bright colors of the world. No dream he reminded himself can create colors you’ve never seen before, and no dream could be remembered so distinctly. “But it had to be a dream,” Kevin said again, “because here I am! I was here all long all the time. There was no magic in Shan’s World.” But I felt it! I knew it was there! It occurred to him that Shan’s World might have been a very special dream, and perhaps it was possible for him to return to a very special dream place.

2.   Chapter Two p. 31

But weeks went by and the boy could not return to Shan’s World. He searched the path in all of his dreams, but every time he thought he saw it, he awakened. Why can I go back? he pleaded, but still it was unable to take that first step of the path.

At recess Kevin avoided the grass and, instead, he went to the swings, hoping that Shan could find him there. However, every day when the bell rang he found himself still in school. He tried to clear his mind and close out the familiar world in order to let Shan’s World take its place, but Shan wouldn’t fill the space he left the empty, and the boy was forced to open his eyes to the places he hated. Often, he would try to bring forth a clear memory of the world, but day by day the vision became less clear and he could no longer see the colors as vividly. “Please Shan!” He cried, but there was no answer.

He gave up. Kevin returned to the grass and studied the green grass. It was such an alive color, he thought, finding security in this belief. The green would not desert him. But walking back up to his classroom he discovered a terrible truth that upset his invulnerability. Underneath the green grass was the brown dirt nourishing it. Living grass grew from dead dirt! No! he cried silently, desperately, trying to preserve the safety of the greenness. Another voice was traitorous, though. All life comes from death, it said. Even your life is sustained through the death of animals. Life is because of death. No! Greenness means life! Kevin fought furiously. No death could be in greenness. Greenness is alive, said the voice, but it alive because of brownness. No one could survive without death.

Kevin slumped down in his seat, defeated. Where can I go now? He wondered. His beautiful, sheltering green was gone now and he knew he would never again be able to reach it. Life could not be surrounded by death. It must be sufficient unto itself. Now, though, the green that had asked to support this belief was trying to prove otherwise. And he would have to find something else to help him. The grass had betrayed Kevin, but there had to be some place that would offer him life with the purity that grass could not.

Shan’s World, he thought hopefully.

The boy was returning to Shan’s World and everything had to be just perfect for him. Shan inspected the sky to make certain it was a reddish color with streaks of gold merging into it. He scanned the forests mentally and checked the scenery. Everything was as it should be; the boy would not be disappointed. There was nothing left for Shan to do but wait for the boy’s appearance.

He looked up at the path in time to see the boy struggling upward toward Shan’s World. Sometimes before Shan had noticed the boy looking up at the path as though he longed to walk it, but it had not been open to him then, so he had turned away. Now, though, he was upon that path, and it looked as if the trip was not easy. His hair was damp and limp, and his shoulders and back were bent as though he were using all his energy to push against a conflicting force. However, as he neared Shan’s World his head came up alert, looking for something. Suddenly he stopped fighting, and stood without the fighting, straining stance. “Shan!” he called. “Shan, are you here?”

Now, thought Shan, was the time to begin the game he always played with them. He scampered up one of the larger trees and gave his colors a minute to blend in with the colors of the tree. Shan did not pull up his long, thick tail, because it blended easily with the tree trunk.

A voice laughed nearby. “You have made her the brightest of all trees,” the tree beside him said. “Surely the boy will recognize your flashing luxuriousness.”

“Silence!” another tree exclaimed. “He will follow your voice to its source and he will see Shan.”

Shan restrained the desire to laugh. He remembered the boy’s fiery temper, and knew he would get a good dose of it again today.

The boy had begun looking for Shan the moment the path disappeared. Every once in a while, he would call out, certain that Shan would keep his promise and be waiting for him somewhere. “Shan!” he called as he walked through the Forest. Then he came under a bright and flashing tree, one of the largest trees in the Forest, and everything began happening at once. There was a loud roar and then something gigantic landed beside him. All the boy saw was a blur of colors and felt the trembling of the ground as Shan landed beside him. A roar the vociferousness of a volcano erupted in his ears and, for a minute, his mind went blank. It cleared again only to see Shan laughing at him.

“Are you alright?” asked Shan, still laughing.

A wave of anger passed over the boy. “I’m fine,” he said hotly and added, “That wasn’t funny! I might have been hurt! Your humor is very poor.”

“It depends upon your point of view,” corrected Shan. “For example, I consider it very funny, and others might also be amused, but it happened to you, and, therefore, you are certain that it was a cruel trick designed to tease, hurt, and/or humiliate you. It was, instead, a mischievous trick played on a boy without the ability to laugh at himself.”

“You talk too much,” snorted the boy.

Shan allowed that to pass without a comment. “Where do you wish to go today?” he asked the boy, his voice suddenly formal.

The boy looked up, surprised. “How should I know?” he retorted. “You must be forgetting, Shan, that this is the beginning of the second time I’ve been here, and I know nothing of Shan’s World except what I have seen.” He strained the hard quality from his voice and added, “Not to treat that lightly, of course! I’ve never seen such beauty! Show me the other marvels this World has to offer, Shan!” He looked around at the flashing, brilliant Forest with a look of reverence on his face. “If it can offer more than I’ve already seen!” he added.

Shan laughed. If it can’t, Shan’s World must be very small! Hop aboard, and together we shall explore to find the dimensions of this world.”

Without need of further urging the boy leaped upon Shan. He was amazed by a sudden thought occurring at such an appropriate time. The boy felt like the Little Lame Prince, and Shan was his cloak that showed him the mysteries of the World he had never seen from within his narrow tower. At home, he thought, he was considered lame and unable to do for himself, and, therefore, a bother. Shan’s World made him the prince and took from him the lameness. He was given a pair of sturdy legs to replace the lame ones he had at home.

“Disband those thoughts,” commanded Shan as they soared upward.

The thoughts had disappeared, but the boy had not heard Shan. He was gazing with awe and wonder at the sight that greeted his eyes from below. He was looking at an aerial view of Shan’s World. The colors blurred and danced before his eyes, so luminous were they. It was an indescribable vision, not meant to be communicated. Colors were all over, running together to join in such a spectacle as no man’s eyes had ever seen. The boy hardly dared to breathe, for fear that breathing would make it all disappear and he would never see it again. His eyes feasted upon the sight, drinking the fine wine, and intoxicating him.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” asked Shan, his voice fully appreciating the sight he saw so often, yet never tired of. Each time it was different and more beautiful.

His voice broke through the stillness and destroyed some of the magic, but the magic still held the boy transfixed. “It’s radiant,” breathed the boy, afraid that, if he spoke too loudly, the whole scene would shatter below him and he would be unable to recapture it. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He paused. And then said, “Why can’t I stay here forever? It’s so beautiful and so much better than my world!”

They flew in silence for several minutes, colors sparkling from the land below. An ocean of fabulous colors and surprises, thought the boy. He was amazed that such a place could really exist.

He had not expected Shan to answer, and had almost forgotten what he had said when Shan spoke. “Be thankful you can’t stay here forever,” his friend advised.

The boy was surprised. “But why?” he exclaimed. “I think this would be a wonderful place to live! Nothing is lacking here! Everything is perfect!” Again, he looked at the sight moving below him. “It is just perfect,” he repeated softly. “Beau ideal. The ideal of perfection.”

Again, it was a long time before Shan answered him. Almost three minutes passed, during which the music of beautiful happiness soothed the boy’s mind, and he wondered if Shan was going to answer at all. Finally, however, his friend said, “Because the way it is now you live in two worlds at once and you can have something from both of them.”

“Yes,” the boy agreed tightly in a restrained voice. “That’s exactly why I’d like to stay here. Of the two worlds, it is this one I prefer.”

“Why?” asked Shan.

“Because it is so beautiful,” the boy replied. Though he knew that was not the answer Shan wanted.

Shan knew that was an evasion. “What is wrong with your world?” he asked.

“I hate it!” the boy exclaimed, answering even before Shan had completed the question, anger, replacing the tightness of his voice. “And everybody there hates me! They want me to be a good boy and do as well as my sister and they’re ashamed of me.” He paused, and in a quieter voice asked, “Do you know what a psychiatrist is, Shan?”

“Somewhat.”

“My father and mother brought me to one once.” Again, he was silent and the boy said, “At school a couple of days ago a boy said I was crazy.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Shan advised him with such conviction that the boy felt that his friend and Shan’s World would make the boy be all he was expected to be. “Believe only what you feel in your heart, because that is what you are, not what people think.”

“Do you think you need psychiatric help?” Shan asked after a short pause.

“I don’t know,” the boy said. “Maybe I’m different from other people. I like to just lay down and think instead of playing during recess with everyone else. My sister sometimes calls me a hermit. Does that make me insane?”

“I know less than you, my friend,” Shan said, “but you don’t sound different here.”

“I don’t feel different here!” he said. “I’m a part of Shan’s World. I belong here. I never talk to anyone at home the way I do here! At home I’m just a towel draped over a rack and I keep slipping off. The towel must constantly be picked up and put back in its place. Here I don’t feel like a towel. I feel like me. And I am me.”

“Why do you think you’re different at home than in Shan’s World?”

“Well, because at home I’m expected to be a certain way and to play with people I don’t even like. Here, I can do what I want and it’s happy. Besides, Shan’s World is different.”

“If Shan’s World didn’t have the music and happiness do you think you’d still feel better here?”

“If it was unhappy here?”

“No, but if it didn’t have the colors and music but looked just like your school or home, could you be happy still?”

“But it wouldn’t be Shan’s World, then!” the boy said. It was just be home.”

“But, what if it were just like here in the sense that you weren’t a towel and could be what you wanted.”

“It still wouldn’t be Shan’s World.”

Shan sighed. Hopefully someday the boy would find Shan’s World at home amongst his family. “Why are you here?” he asked.

 “I don’t know,” the boy answered, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Why did the path open for you now? What happened at home?”

After a minute the boy told Shan of the discovery about the grass. “Is that why?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Shan, looking troubled.

“What does it mean?”

“Nothing,” Shan said, “except what you expect of Shan’s World. Don’t worry, though, because this world will give you what you need.” He paused and added too quietly for the boy to hear, “But not necessarily what you want,” because he had to absolve himself from guilt when the boy realized that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted.

“I hope you’re right,” said the boy quietly.

They rode in silence once again, and the boy exclaimed, “But how could we talk about something like that in the midst of such beauty?”

“It is very beautiful,” agreed Shan. He allowed the words to end the comment for a few minutes. Then he exclaimed suddenly, forcefully, “It really is splendid! But it could be so much more wonderful.”

“How?” asked the boy, doubting Shan.

“Its creator was brilliant, but he left out so much that is essential. If only he could dream of a world even more magnificent with the things he missed!”

“You’re bragging,” said the boy. “And it isn’t polite.”

Shan was genuinely surprised. “How am I bragging?” he asked the boy.

The boy became confused. “Well… well…” he stammered. “I was under the impression that you were the creator of Shan’s World.”

“Me?” asked Shan. “Oh, no! I am no more than the king of the lands, the gardener of the garden, the maid of the home. Like most kings, I did not create the lands for which I am responsible.

“Then why is it called Shan’s World?” asked the boy. “It is called Shan’s World, isn’t it?”

“It is,” assented Shan. “But that doesn’t mean that I made it. It was given to me to take care of, and it is in my possession as long as I preserve it.”

The boy gazed upon the world below him, pondering on the type of person it would take to create such a magnificent wonder, such a heaven. “Then,” he said slowly. “Who is the creator.”

Shan was silent for so long a time that the boy began to doubt that he would receive an answer at all, and was about to repeat the question when Shan said,” Anyone who knows the Creator is privileged.”

The boy stated in an unusually soft tone, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“That is because I cannot,” Shan explained.

“Why not?” asked the boy. “Don’t you know him?”

“No,” Shan said, “I do not know his name.”

A long silence followed. At last the boy asked in a voice so low that Shan could hardly hear it, “Shan, am I the creator?”

Shan laughed gently. “Now why would you think such a thing as that? Obviously, my friend, you think very highly of yourself.”

“Shan, I know this isn’t reality. I am sitting at my desk right now. I’m not really here. Therefore, Shan’s World must be in me, and if it is in me, then I am the creator.”

“You are partially correct, my friend, but you are wrong on a point of major importance. Shan’s World is in you, but it is not exclusively yours. Each of us have Shan’s World to draw upon. You are not the creator any more than you created your own body.”

“But it is an illusion? Am I trying to escape reality?” asked the boy, his voice and body tense.

“Not exactly that either. Shan’s World is reality but it isn’t reality to anyone else. It is reality in you, but it is not only yours.”

“You mean that I am Shan’s World?”

“No,” Shan said. “Shan’s World is you, or a part of you. You are not Shan’s World and it is not your creation but neither is it reality to everyone or yours exclusively. Shan’s World is in each of us, enriching our lives. It is there in dreams and alive in hopes and ambitions but neither of those are real in regard to the environment either.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You aren’t supposed to understand. No one can reach the depths of the human mind. Shan’s World is your reality, though, and each one of us has the World, just accept that. Don’t question or fight it. Never fight beauty. Love it and let it give to you.”

Over an hour passed before either spoke again. They watched the scenery below for something which attracted their attention. The boy wanted something to explore. Suddenly he called out, “Look down there, Shan! Look at that!”

It resembled a castle, the size of which seemed impossible to the boy. It rose into the air almost the same height as the boy and Shan were flying. As with almost everything in Shan’s World it glowed with colors, but these were even brighter than those that coursed Shan’s body. They were so brilliant that the boy felt like he was looking at the sun, and had to shield his eyes from the rays.

“What is it, Shan?” he breathed with awe. “What is it? Who lives there?”

“That,” proclaimed Shan, pride glowing from him, “is my castle. I live there. Would you like to see it?”

“Oh, yes” exclaimed the boy without a moment’s hesitation. “Yes, I would love to see it.” He never took his shaded eyes from the splendid view. “Oh, I truly would! Can we go inside, Shan?”

Shan smiled spiritually. “Yes, we can and we shall,” he announced, swooping down towards the castle. Because the building was so large, the boy felt as though he were shrinking as they came closer to it. It loamed up over the trees and was almost hidden in the clouds. Even though he and Shan were still flying high, the boy felt as if he were on the ground admitting the spectacle. He felt like an ant in comparison with the huge structure. Most things, he thought, are relative, for I am an ant to the castle and an ant is a castle to a molecule.

Even the doors towered above the boy’s head as someone opened them from the inside to admit Shan and him. Once he was inside the castle, though, with but a tiny glance, the boy lost consciousness. He heard someone say, “It’s the colors! They’re too bright for him. You’d better get him outside fast!”

“Tone down the colors,” someone else barked angrily and it sounded dimly like Shan.

The boy opened his eyes and found himself supported by Shan’s two front legs. The boy smiled at him slowly. “Overwhelming beauty, Shan,” he said and grinned. Then he asked, “Seriously, what caused that reaction?”

“Overwhelming beauty,” Shan explained, and laughed. “Actually, the colors were too bright for you, as your eyes are not yet tuned to this world. I didn’t think about that possibility because all of us are used to it. I’ve tuned down the colors a bit, but I think they will probably still be too bright for your eyes. We can return some other time and I will show you the castle.”

“No! They won’t be too bright, Shan!” the boy cried. He tried to look at something other than Shan, but his friend was exerting a force that would not allow him to do so.

“Yes, they will,” Shan said firmly. “After your eyes have adjusted themselves to see the brightness of this world we can return here and you will be shown my palace in full brilliance. For now, let’s go. There is still an entire world for you to see and explore.

The boy was immensely disappointed. “Do you promise that we can come back?” he asked. “Will you give me your solemn promise and never break it?”

“You have it as of this minute,” Shan consoled. “Now, hop upon my back and we will go see something else. This World hasn’t run out of magic, yet!”

Still unable to look back at the palace, the boy had to leave without seeing once more the gigantic structure. The boy scampered up Shan’s scales and settled himself on his back. “Well,” he said in a quiet subdued voice. “What shall we do instead?”

“There’s a whole world out there, my boy,” said Shan. “We can do anything in the whole world.”

“Let’s just explore some more and if I see something that looks good, we can go look at it, alright?”

“That sounds fine. There will certainly be something.”

They flew on until below them there was a mass of sparkling colors in a different pattern than the Forests. Making a good guess, the boy asked, “Is that Shan’s city?”

Shan laughed. “How do you know that is what the city is called?” he challenged.

“I just guessed, but it probably is. After all, what is a city when you have an entire world names after you?”

“A very thought-provoking question,” Shan said with another short laugh. “I think I shall ask myself the question someday. Its answer might be rather interesting to you. Do you want to see Shan’s city?

“No now,” the boy said. “But I will later.”

“Personally, I am not awed by the city, but I think every foreigner ought to see it. After all, it is different.”

The boy did not like the word “foreigner.” It seemed to imply that he was only a tourist and was not welcome as anything more than a source of money, though he didn’t think that money was important in Shan’s World. “You invited me here,” he said. “Therefore, I am a guest, not a foreigner.”

“If you insist, then we will label you ‘guest’ rather than ‘foreigner,’ though I fail to see that it really matters.”

“It does matter, though,” said the boy.

He felt as though he could jump from Shan’s back and run a mile. It was so wonderful to fee free, knowing that no one would criticize him or get angry with him. He wanted to shout so loud that it echoed out of Shan’s World and into his own.

“Life really is wonderful, isn’t it, Shan?”

“My boy,” said Shan, “life is always wonderful. Anyone who doesn’t realize that just doesn’t know how to live it. Life is a thing to be cherished, loved, enjoyed, and shared. Once you understand that, you pass all problems as rocks in a road.”

“In this world,” said the boy. “but it isn’t that easy in my world.”

“There’s never anything easy about it,” Shan said. “This world is difficult too, but in a different way. Because it makes you face yourself.”

“But you can live in this world,” the boy argued. “But what do you do when you aren’t really allowed to live?”

“No one can stop you,” Shan said, “and you are proving that.”

 “Me?” he asked puzzled. “How?”

But Shan did not answer.

3.   Chapter Three p. 48

It was pure happiness that made him do it. Pure delight with everything as it was at that minute. It was the joy that he felt in being able to be happy again, and the happiness at the freedom that released him from the constant pressures and criticism of home and allowed him to find himself. To express this, the boy took a flying leap off Shan’s back, secure in his certainty that nothing could ever happen to him as long as he was in Shan’s World. He would regain Shan later on, but now he just wanted to wander around and explore on his own two feet.

It felt so good to fall, so loose and free, without a worry at all. The boy closed his eyes in ecstasy and then opened them again to see the bright colors whirling around him in the air and the colors flashing on the ground below. We saw Shan disappearing in a cloud of colors and felt no regret. Shan would find him again, and in the meantime, he would have another adventure to remember as he trudged up the path toward Shan’s World next time, for he was certain that this would not be the last time. Shan’s World had come into his life, and he could not think of life without it any more.

He landed with a soft thud on the spongy ground, then bounced up about ten feet and went down again. He remembered the trampoline he had played on once when his parents were visiting some friends. It had been just like this, so he began doing trick son the ground, bouncing higher and higher. The boy had never felt so free, or as though he had as much power in his body.

Finally, he tired of that game, and decided to explore a little bit. Nothing could happen to him as long as he was in Shan’s World. That was a world which held only beauty and good things, he was certain. He loved Shan’s World and if it had any bad in it, he willingly closed his eyes to it. As far as the boy was concerned, Shan’s World was perfect, without any flaws whatsoever.

The colors around the area he was walking looked like any of the colors he had seen in the other part of Shan’s World, but after awhile he began to realize that these were darker than the others had been. He was certain that he was only imagining it, and even if he wasn’t, it held no significance to him.

Walking through this forest was a bit more difficult than the other forests had been. There were fewer paths to walk and most of the bushes had prickly points to scratch and cut his arms and legs as he walked by. He noticed that the scratches all glowed with a strange color that he had never seen in Shan’s World, but the scratches caused him no pain, so he ignored them.

“You are a stranger,” said a harsh growling sort of voice next to him on the right side.

The boy jumped with surprise. “Who are you?” he questioned, no longer suspicious of the inhabitants of Shan’s World.

“I am not the question in consideration at the moment,” replied the creature tartily. It seemed to the boy that the voice could only have come from some dully colored thing that looked almost like a gnarled tree trunk. It made no visible movement to indicate life to the boy, however he could see two glowing, very dark and haunting spots on the lower part of the tree that reminded the boy of eyes. The boy tried to blame it on his imagination, but he was almost certain that there was a malicious glint in the eyes, and he felt a tinge of fear. “We are speaking of you,” continued the creature.

The small, creeping hint of fear crawled up the boy’s back, slowing broaden in to include his neck and shoulders. “Well, ask me what you wish,” he suggested lightly, and shivered at the fear touched his head also.

“You are a stranger,” growled the tree trunk, or the creature in that direction, for the boy still doubted that it could be the tree trunk. “Where do you reside? In what forest?”

“I don’t live in Shan’s World,” said the boy. “I am only a guest.’

“Who invited you?” snarled the monster, which was what the boy was beginning to think his questioner was.

The boy lifted his head a little bit higher with pride. “I am the guest of Shan,” he said. “I am not from Shan’s World at all; he invited me personally. You can ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“Shan!” exclaimed the questioner. “You are a friend of Shan’s?”

Smiling slightly, because the inflection in the monster’s voice probably meant he was safe, being Shan’s friend, the boy nodded. After all, a friend of the king of the World must be safe anywhere and with anyone. Shan’s name, the boy decided, was his key to safety. “Oh, yes,” he said. “I am a very good friend of Shan’s. A very good friend, indeed. I have much influence with him.”

“You do?” The voice seemed to indicate a raising of the eyebrows, had the questioner been human. That is good, very good. We’ve been waiting for a chance like this for a long time. Vine! We want him.”

A snake-like creature crawled close to the boy and the boy backed up, suddenly realizing his mistake. “No,” he whispered, but the vine did not end its pursuit. Slowly, it crept forward and the boy was no longer able to move backwards due to the bush that was behind him. He was about to turn around and run the other way when the vine moved with lightning swiftness and wrapped itself around the boy’s legs. He fell heavily, and the vine securely tied the boy up with itself.

“Now,” said the creature that had first spoken to him. “Now we must contact his good friend, Shan, on which he was much influence. What shall we ask for in return for Shan’s very good friend?”

The vine trembled when it spoke. “We shall say that we want Shan in return for the boy,” it quavered. “Then we can take over the entire world and make it our world. This Forest is becoming too small for our needs.”

“A very good idea,” admitted the tree slowly. “But Shan would even let his very good friend perish if it meant that his people were in danger. That would not work.”

“No,” the boy cried. “I have to get back home again! Shan wouldn’t let me die here!”

“You don’t know Shan as well as you claimed, boy,” one of the lighter colored bushes said harshly. “He would never let Shan’s World fall into the hands of the Dark Forest, even if it meant three good friends. He has to think ahead of the just one boy to all the people who depend upon him for their safety. Even a very good friend is less important than all the inhabitants. You must be able to understand that.”

“Silence, Bright One! Your opinions are of no matter to him or us,” said the tree sharply. “But what you say, unfortunately, is very true. Therefore, we must use this boy towards the same goal, but make it a little more subtle than our previous suggestions. We could ask for just a little bit more land to extend the Dark Forest. Slowly, but surely we will work up to our goal.”

“I know how to do it!” squealed a small little plant which the boy could easily have stepped on from where he had been standing. “we could advance forward with the boy in our custody. Forward more and more until, finally, Shan makes an attempt to stop us and then he would kill the boy and as we could stay at the point we had advanced. I’m certain that there’s nothing he could do to stop us. I’m sure it will work!”

“Excellent!” stated the tree trunk, obviously the leader of the Dark Forest. “It sounds very sensible indeed! Of course, it may cost a lot of us our lives when Shan makes his attempt to stop us, but it will rid us of the boy, who might be quite a problem. I didn’t want the vine to waste his strength choking the two-legged creature. So, we will follow your plan. Ivy, contact Shan and tell him we have the boy and intend to move forward a little bit. Tell him that any attempt to stop us shall result in the boy being choked.”

“No,” moaned the boy quietly. “Please Shan, don’t let me die.” I not here, he told himself. I’m at home laying on my bed and nothing can happen to me. My parents are downstairs and if I yell they will come upstairs and help me.” Mother! Dad! But he could not force it out of his mouth, and when he opened his eyes he found he was still in the middle of the Dark Forest.

This isn’t happening, he told himself. It can’t be real. He felt the vine around his body and tried to move. It tightened. Alright, he decided, if this isn’t real, it is the most real illusion we had ever had and it seemed until the illusion was over he would have to play his part.

“I’m afraid,” he said out load. “I’m so afraid. Let me out! I want to come!”

“Hush!” commanded the tree. It directed its next question to the Ivy. “Have you contacted Shan yet?”

“Yes,” replied the addressee in his high voice. “I just did.”

“What did he say?”

The boy held his breath, not daring to breathe for fear that it would somehow influence the decision that Shan had already made.

“He said that if we moved one step forward he would blast the entire Dark Forest and that it would end with the same result if we dared harm the boy,” replied the ivy. “I think he’s bluffing.”

The tree trunk was silent for awhile, until it said, “Remind Shan that if he blasts the Dark Forest, he will also kill his friend. In fact, his friend would be the first to die sine the temperature of the blast must be much higher to kill us than it would need to be to kill him. At our temperature, it would not have to be near him to cause his death.”

“Shan!” the boy cried, shocked. If this was his illusion, he thought wildly, then why was it against him? Shan wouldn’t do that not the Shan he loved.

“Shan replies,” said the ivy.

Shan, thought the boy, you can’t do that.

“Well?” demanded the trunk of the tree.

“He said that he is aware of a way that will not harm the boy in the least, but will kill each of us, whether we come in contact with it or not. He said that he had long ago decided that the Dark Forest has as much a right to exist as Shan’s Forest or the Dull Forest, but he would destroy it right now if we did not release the boy. There are many ways, he said, to destroy all of us without harming the boy at all. What do you think?” concluded the ivy, announcing brightly, “I think it’s a bluff.”

“I don’t know,” replied his senior. “I am wondering whether or not he is lying, but if not, I am wondering if we should take the chance. It is highly probably that he is trying to stop us with anything he can grab, but it is also possible that it is true, and he could destroy every one of us.”

“Let’s call his bluff!” exclaimed an old, deep voice. “Shan is only bluffing of course. We should move forward! We should advance!”

“However,” said a new voice. “If he isn’t, you will cause the destruction of the entire Dark forest, therefore giving us no chance to take over Shan’s World. Why not just release the boy and give ourselves a chance instead of making a mistake now? It is the most vital question ever facing us, and we cannot make a mistake if we just let the boy go.”

“Remember, we will be the only forest that Shan has ever been forced to destroy and no other forest would allow us in if we hold this reputation,” warned another.

“But if we let the boy go, we will be right back where we began!” exclaimed the gruff voice. “It is useless. We should challenge Shan. Surely, he does not have the power to destroy us. He is not the Creator. I say, call his bluff!”

“True,” agreed the tree. “However, it is also true that we will have only one chance for a mistake and if we are wrong we leaving nothing for the new plants.” If it had been human, the boy would have called the issuing air a sigh. “Alright, vine, release the boy. We will get him later in a different way next time. Somehow Shan’s World will become the world of the Dark Forest and then we will conquer the Dark Lands. Go, boy, and don’t come back, because next time you will not be so lucky.”

The boy stood up the moment he was released and started to run. He did not care about the direction, so long as it was away from the tree trunk and its neighbors. He ran wildly, crashing through bushes and ignoring the cries they made when he hurt them. He felt surrounded by hostility and hatred. All the plants with juices of any sort made certain he was soaked in their stickiness. The vines attempted to trip him, and the bushes through their branches into positions where they would whip his face Occasionally a tree would bow to hit him, and he got hurt by many of the plants with thorns and sharp leaves. At one point he thought he saw a chocolatey brown face staring at him with blank eyes and an open mouth, but later he convinced himself that this was only an illusion created by his fear.

Never in his life had the boy been as desperate to get away from something as he was then. It was a torture trying to fight those creatures. The Dark Forest seemed never ending. The colors seemed to get darker and darker as he progressed, darker in color, but that dark color became brighter so that it hurt his eyes terribly even trying to keep them open. When the boy tried to close his eyes, he couldn’t see and was injured all the more. Finally, he came to a clump of bushes he simply couldn’t get past. They were so tightly packed together that if the boy were to try to get past them, he would have to climb over them, which was next to impossible.

Thus, he took the only open way that was possible, unless he was to turn back and try another way. Soon the boy realized that he was traveling in a maze and the plants were turning any way they pleased. They had released him, but he was still tightly kept within the Dark Forest.

Panicking, he tried to turn back, but found that the plants had carefully blocked his exit. He was forced to keep moving the way that they were herding him. He was frightened but he could do nothing but go the way they were forcing him. He wondered if he would be able to go back home and get away from his nightmare, but dared not thing about it too long for fear that he would begin to cry.

As it had been when he was in the Dull Forest, the boy had no warning that suddenly brightness would engulf him once more before the moment he was enveloped in it. He always was unable to see it before it happened, but the sigh was met joyously by the boy. The colors looked even more beautiful than the ever had before. They seemed even better than they had after emerging from the Dull Forest, because now they meant safety as well as beauty.

“Well, I see that you are back,” said a friendly voice.

The boy looked down to see the creature he had first seen when he entered Shan’s World. All the fear he had felt in the Dark Forest disappeared immediately the moment he saw the Forest once more and was greeted by a friendly face. “Hello,” he said. “What are doing here?”

The creature made a face. “I made the Foolish wish once again,” he said. “I think that that Foolish wish law that Shan made is foolish. I cannot be certain from minute to minute exactly where I’m going to be. All I said was that I…” He broke off with a guilty grin. “No, I won’t say it again.”

The boy laughed.

“This is serious,” complained the creature. “He might send me to the Dark Forest next time.”

“Does Shan really send people to the Dark Forest?” the boy asked.

“Well, not really,” admitted the other. “But you never know exactly what Shan is going to do when he gets irritated, which is often with such a foolish creature as I. He is totally unpredictable sometimes.” The creature paused to get a breath and noticed the boy’s appearance for the first time. “What are you doing here at the edge of the dark forest?” he asked slowly and carefully. “You weren’t in it, were you?”

The boy replied slowly, reluctant to go over his past experience, even in words. “Well,” he evaded as long as he could draw out the small word. Finally, he admitted, “I guess I was.”

“You are Foolish!” cried the creature, shaking his head violently. “Foolish! You could be killed in there! The plants and Dark People don’t like invaders! Foolish! Foolish!” He pursed his tiny lips, and asked, “How did you get out?”

“The plants helped me, I guess,” replied the boy. “Shan sort of threatened them.”

“You are a lucky Fool,” the creature commented. “That has never been done, you know. Once you are in the Dark Forest, it is likely, if not probable that the Dark People or plants will capture and kill you. They don’t think much of the Bright People.”

The boy was far from anxious to describe what happened to him, so he changed the subject. “What Forest are we in now?” he asked.

“We aren’t really in a Forest now,” said the small person. “We are on the Edge.”

“The Edge,” repeated the boy. “What is that?”
“It’s the edge forest,” explained his friend. “It is the border of the Dark Forest, letting lost travelers nearing the Dark Forest know that they are in danger, and giving those coming out of the Dark Forest a feeling of security and peace. There is a feeling of foreboding for those who have just entered the Edge from one of the Forests. It warns them not to go any further. I am being warned right now, and the feeling is very uncomfortable. I keep wanting to look over my shoulder, and I feel eyes staring at me. Let’s move on to one of the Forests where the feeling will be much happier and more comfortable.”

“What Forest is the border of the Edge where we are now?” asked the boy.

“I’m not certain,” said he. “You understand that I was just transported here and I can’t be certain what part of the Edge we are at the moment. If we proceed to move away, we shall find out, shall we not?”

“I suppose we shall!” agreed the boy, matching the creature’s quick pace.

It took about five hundred feet for them to be away from the Edge, but, of course, they did not realize it until they were in the next Forest. The boy started with shock when he saw this forest. It was not full of shining brilliance; this forest was green with brown dirt and green grass and green bushes and a calm blue stream traveling down the mountainside. The sky above it was a deep rich blue with occasional clouds flitting past. The boy heard a sound of a bird singing in the background and it sounded as beautiful to him as the music in the other forests.

“I’m home!” he cried, and thought that this forest was even more peaceful than the other forests.

The creature beside him looked at him. “I thought that you were not of Shan’s World,” he accused.

“I’m not,” explained the boy. “But this looks exactly like the forests we have at home. What is this forest called?”

“It’s the Creator’s Forest,” replied his small friend. We sometimes call it the second Dull Forest, because all it has are about four of the basic colors and it doesn’t glow at all. It bores me, and the sooner I’m out of it, the better, as far as I’m concerned. It is not the least bit interesting.”

“But it is beautiful!” exclaimed the boy. “It is a beautiful forest.”

“Compare it with the other forests of Shan’s World,” suggested his friend. “It is nothing like them. There are about four basic colors in all of this forest and only a few variations of each. It does not compare with the other forests in the least. Let’s hurry through this forest. Behind it, I think, is the forest of the angels. That is one of the most visited places in Shan’s World, and certainly ranks among the top of all the forests. People travel from all over the world to see it.”

“I think the Creator’s Forest is beautiful in its own way,” the boy said staunchly.

“Each to his own,” replied his companion with a shrug.

They continued walking for awhile silently, until the boy asked: “What is the most visited place in Shan’s World?”

“The city,” replied his friend, looking disgusted. Though, why, I don’t know!”

The boy had his mouth open to reply when he suddenly realized that his friend no longer looked bright and colorful. He was spotted brown and white like a young fawn. His face looked slightly human, but more like that of a deer, decided the boy. He burst out laughing.

“Humor is a good trait,” his friend said sourly, “when that humor is shared with others.”

“Oh,” said the boy when he realized exactly what he had been trying to say. “I was just thinking about how much you had changed from the last time that I saw you.”

The other gave him a long stare. “Just what is funny about that?” he asked. “You will find it a very common thing in Shan’s World. Even in your world it is not uncommon.” He looked at the boy a little longer, his stare hard, and then looked away. “People would find you both boring and interesting,” he said. “You don’t change at all. It is an interesting trait for awhile, but soon it would get boring. If anyone should laugh, it should be me about you. You are very funny because of your strangeness. However, it is foolish to laugh at such foolish things.” He paused and the boy did not fill in that pause. Finally, the creature said, “my legs are shorter than yours and I tire much more easily. I do wish we didn’t have to walk!”

The next minute, the boy found himself alone. He heard the creature exclaim “The Foolish Wish!” before he disappeared. The boy did not like being alone and it frightened him for he did not know where to go. “I wish Shan were here!” he exclaimed impulsively.

“You come to Shan due to your Foolish Wish!” replied a laughing voice, and in a minute, he was standing beside the huge creature.

“Shan,” he greeted happily. “It sure is good to see you again!”

“Well, hello,” said his friend. “I hope you have had fun since you jumped off my back. That was very Foolish, my boy. Very foolish.”

“Oh well,” said the boy. “All’s well that ends well.”

“And that ended well?” asked Shan, and he would have been smiling gently had he been able.

“That ended well,” confirmed the boy. “After all, I am here now and alive and no one is worse for my adventure.”

Shan surveyed him critically. “Well, almost the same,” he acceded. “Just a little bit of outer skin missing. I am glad, though, that the plants did not call my bluff.”

“You mean you actually were bluffing?” cried the boy, a chill escaping to scamper up his spine.

“You might say that,” Shan evaded. “You understand, I cannot destroy a forest created by the creator. Only he is able to do that, and it is unlikely he will.”

“Is the Dark forest part of Shan’s World?” the boy asked.

“No,” Shan said. “I’m actually quite helpless in regard to it. The dark forest is technically in Shan’s World but it is more closely related to the Dark Lands. It really stands alone against both of us, whichever is more opportune for its advancement at that time. That Forest is extremely power-hungry.”

“Why would anyone create such beauty as this and also create such ugliness as that?” asked the boy. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps you can ask him sometime. In the meantime, my young friend, I think you had better get home.”

“Home!” cried the boy. “I don’t want to go home just yet. Let me stay here just a little bit longer,” he pleaded. “Why can’t I, Shan? Just for a little while longer. Then I will go home. I promise you.”

“I’m sorry, but you must leave now. This is not your world, my friend, and I can’t let you forget this. Now, I will take you to the path so that you can begin the long trek home, and run into the loving arms of your mother and father.”

“Loving arms!” exclaimed the boy. “They have no loving arms for me. They have loving arms for A’s on a report card and good comments from others about us. They have arms with love for themselves and they want me to be them. No arms will welcome my return, not unless I bright a straight A report card with me. Since I’ve been doing nothing while I’ve been here, it is highly unlikely I shall return with that.”

“Don’t be so cold,” advised Shan. “Your parents love you very much; they just don’t understand you. Don’t blame them, either, because you have made no attempt to help them understand. Self-pity only makes you more miserable, and that is a poor way to live life. I will see you next time you return, my friend. Until then, good-by.”

Without looking back or replying, the boy slid off San’s back and started down the path. He wondered why the trip over and back from Shan’s World was always so difficult when the world itself was so wonderful. His steps became harder and harder for him to take. His feet seemed to get heavier and heavier and it had become hotter and hotter. Slowly the boy was going back to mass reality.

Kevin found himself at his desk. There were no books upon it, though all the other students had books open and were reading. He looked up at the clock and saw that lunch and recess had both passed.

He was filled with delight. He had been there again! That meant that it was real, because no dream could occur twice, especially a dream as that. He remembered Shan’s sketchy explanation of Shan’s World. It was his own world, but each person had within him the ability to use Shan’s World if it was needed. How? He wondered. How could a world exist without anyone knowing it? “Never fight beauty, love it and let it give to you,” Shan’s words advised as though he were there to answer. And wasn’t he? Asked Kevin. If Shan’s World was inside him or a part of him, then Shan would always be with him. The thought cheered him.

The thought cheered him.

“What book are we reading?” he asked the girl in front of him, feeling guilty because he was the only one with an empty desk. Surely the teacher had said something to him about it, but what had he answered.

She gave him a contemptuous look. “Our independent reading books,” she replied, and added, “but, of course, you don’t have one of those!”

He didn’t. Kevin felt tears in his eyes. Shan’s World had been so wonderful, and even the Dark Forest had its fairytale charm. He remembered longing for home while he had been trapped in the forest, but for what? Only to find that “home” offered the same scorn and dislike it always had. Kevin felt deflated and empty.

“Kevin, don’t bother the other students!” exclaimed Miss White. “If you aren’t going to do anything, at least you could refrain from disturbing everyone else.”

“Kevin, don’t.” “Kevin, don.t” They were familiar words. So were: “Kevin, why don’t…” and “Kevin, why didn’t you…” When he received praise, it was always with a question mark at the end. “Kevin that is very good, but how are you doing in math?” His sister’s remarks usually hurt the most, but he had learned not to listen to her. Rarely were his words worth listening to.

I wish I were dead! He exclaimed silently. I wish I could make them all sorry. If I killed myself and left a note saying it was because no one would leave me alone, then they’d be sorry.

“Kevin, where is your spelling test?” asked the teacher. “Did you do it?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin said. The laughter and disgust of the class burnt him. Usually it didn’t bother him, but it hurt terribly today.

“You don’t know?” she exclaimed. “Kevin, I….” She broke off with a gesture of surrender. “Come take the test. “Lucy, will you give him the words?”

The first word Lucy said was “torture.”

Carefully, Kevin wrote “T-O-R-C-H.” Torch, he thought. They burn. They hold fire. He looked at his teacher. She was a torch, and so was his mother and father. His sister constantly scorched him. It seemed everyone was a torch and their fire was directed towards him.

“Number two,” Lucy said, noticing that he had done the first word totally wrong and feeling only contempt for him. “Picture.”

“P-I-T-C-H.” They wanted to cover him with pitch so no one could see the son they were ashamed of. I would suffocate from the smoke. He felt sudden panic. If I die without them knowing that they killed me, it won’t be worth anything. Carefully, he wrote:

To whom it may concern:

I die by your hand. Your torchers have burnt a hole in my heart from which I bleed. Don’t cry for the fire rages too much to be put out by tiny teardrops.

“You aren’t even writing your spelling words!” Lucy exclaimed. “Miss White, look! He’s doing something different!” She took the paper from Kevin and handed it to the teacher.

Miss white read it and stared at Kevin. She wasn’t certain how to react. Unless the boy had merely been playing with words, this was a suicide note! But even then, how could he have written something like this? He had failed English and spelling! “What on earth do you mean by that?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, studying the desk carefully. There was a dark swirl in the wood. That was probably made by a worm, he thought. It had crawled through the wood only to find that it had gotten nowhere, and could be seen the entire time. Poor worm, thought Kevin. He knew how it felt.

“Did you write this?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you read it?”

“I didn’t,” said Kevin, and “it isn’t any of your business.”

From another student that remark might have angered her, but a flare-up from Kevin was welcome. It showed that he cared about something enough to put up a tiny fight. “Did you make it up?”

Kevin hated questions. Questions were nooses on which to hang yourself. He had proof: a question mark was an upside down noose. Or a hook to catch yourself a fish. To dangle at the end of the line until someone reached in to you and cut open your insides. He hated fish. Slimy creatures too ignorant to avoid being caught. “I don’t know,” he said, for no answer allowed no fishing hook. An answer provided bait, and only after eating it do you realize it is sour.

“Of course, you know! Did you make it up?”

“Y” said Kevin. Through the top two sticks a head could be separated from the neck. They were knives to make a clean cut and your head would fall.

“Because I wish to know,” exclaimed Miss White.

“E.” A ferocious letter. It reminded Kevin of teeth ready to bite or three knives advancing on him. They would catch him sometime, but he would be ready and he would strike back.

“S.” It was certainly a lecherous letter. It had a soft, silky sound to it, but it curled treacherously and seemed uncertain as to when it would stop curling. If he sat upon it, it would swing backwards and he would fall. The soft, gentle promise was a lie.

“You made it up?” asked his teacher.

“Y-E-S,” said Kevin, because, if he put them together, they could strike as one and would leave him no shield.

“Why?”

“Y,” thought Kevin. Chop off my neck. Y? My head would dangle from the hook. He refused to answer.

4.   Chapter Four p. 71

He was glad to be back in Shan’s World again. Shan had not been there to meet him this time and he found himself in a different forest than before. This was but a small forest, secluded from the larger ones in Shan’s World, and unknown by most of the inhabitants. The music in this forest was gentle and soothing, but seemed to be shadowed by sadness and loneliness. The forest was old and dying, but it welcomed the boy’s presence in a dignified but tired manner.

The other forests had awed the boy with their vivacious beauty, but the splendor of this forest touched him differently. It was gentle and peaceful with a loving attitude. The dignify of the forest was pronounced rather than denied by the sharing, lovingness of the forest. He sat underneath a tree, sheltering him like an umbrella against the persistent rays of the golden sun. Some ants busily scurried up its inviting trunk, and a little bug scampered under a fallen leaf. The leaf sheltered it gladly and the boy no longer felt alone in the forest. It was so full of things that were willing and happy to offer and share anything they could give.

The boy considered the visit he had taken with his parents to the city in this world. The houses in the city were not willing to shelter, he reflected angrily. They were impersonal little boxes standing selfishly over their possessions. Their doors remained locked to keep out the wandering beggars and those impersonal things within were only for the eyes of those who didn’t need to ask, and who could offer something in return for their entrance. The streets weaving in and out of the city were attempting to throw the hunger off their trail as they jumped over rivers and tunnels. It was like a snake ready to strike and fling from it those tiny little bugs and creatures crawling on it. It scorned the geniuses that had built it and smiled with the knowledge that it could twist violently and they would fly defeated from the writhing snake they had created.

Even the air in the city was hostile to his lungs. It was like breathing a brush or a bristling creature crawling through the tender membranes. It didn’t writhe or slip gently down, but stuck its sharp points into the soft flesh. It had to be forced in and pushed out.

So different, he thought as he breathed the air that gently massaged his lungs when it scurried in and out so easily. So very different things were in this forest and Shan’s World.

He looked at his two legs that had carried him to this forest. Ugly limbs, actually, but they were useful and necessary. In the city, the legs were like crutches, used only to move from one short area to another. They were ugly and useless when they weren’t being used to transfer him to a chair from a bed or a couch after driving in a car so long. Legs were to be hidden by pants, socks, and shoes, and girls tanned and shaped them with nylons. They were either hidden from sight or displaced carefully changed. Kevin hated legs in the city, because they had lost their purpose, but here in the forest and Shan’s World, they seemed different to the boy. He looked at them lovingly and saw a strange beauty in them. They belong in a forest, he reflected, where everything is a part and the plan is special and wonderful. Even those ten small sticks protruding from the foot look beautiful. Beautiful? Beautiful toes? What a strange thought! He laughed but it didn’t seem so strange when he looked at himself and the forest around him. His body was perfect in the current surroundings. I belong here, he thought. This is where everyone belongs.

He looked at the path through the forest. It seemed perfect in the surroundings and blended in just the way it should, thought the boy. Against, he thought of the street and could almost see the way his parents’ car had looked parked on it. It belonged to the winding snake, he decided When that snake whipped back, let it hit that car and all others. Let the car lie smashed on its back and all things in it should experience the same defeat. Oh, snake, you will do the job, he thought. You will do it to all those unsuspecting fools in their mechanical horses, and I will watch the whiplash from a safe distances, sighing and shaking my head. You were warned, I will think. You ignored those signs, though; you saw only a blur of color and ignored even the blur. You’ll see, you poor civilized creatures, because, you see, you are still only creatures.

He looked around the Forest lovingly. Everything seemed just perfect, and he felt that he was perfect in it also. On his two legs he stood up and wandered as deeply into it as he could. Every tree seemed to be a personality and every leaf that fell from the branches he cried for. You let go, he thought tearfully. You let go. Why couldn’t you hold on? Just cling to that silly branch and don’t let it push you off.

“They don’t ask for tears,” a voice said. It was a contradicting voice. Its tones promising conflicting traits. Its gentleness was powerful, its softness vibrating, and its words penetrating, though simple.

“Why not?’ the boy asked. The voice came from the tree from which the leaf had fallen. It was bent and gnarled and had only a few more leaves left on it to fall. The tree illustrated age, for even the branches were tired and drooped, but it still had the vitality of life buried within, the core of its being. Its voice spoke of youth, though age and wisdom tinted the edges and the feeling emoted from the bent body was one of strength. The boy felt no pity for the age that coursed its veins, for age had not conquered.

“Tears show sadness, and they are not sad about falling.”

“But they have fallen from that which has given them birth and life!” cried the boy. “They have died.”

“Yes,” agreed the tree. “They are experiencing the mystery of death. But what is death except that cocoon that shelters the forming butterfly? I am sure that it is a form of death that the caterpillar experiences when he locks himself into his cocoon, but he is freed with the wings to fly and beauty such as he has never known as a caterpillar. Behind that crisp body of the leaf is, perhaps, a forming butterfly, and what will emerge will do so with the freedom of wings.”

“Death is just a cocoon?” repeated the boy. “But it doesn’t…”

“Why not?” countered the tree. “Old age could prepare it for death by giving it the necessary traits of the self to allow the cocoon to weave itself around the body.”

“But what if it dies quickly, while still young, and doesn’t…”

“Perhaps the self was already in a sufficient state to permit the seclusion of the cocoon. We do not know what traits it seeks.”

The boy was silent, staring at the leaf. Finally, he looked up and said, “Then I can defeat death by not allowing the cocoon to develop.”

“There is no death, but only a transformation. The cocoon is a biological necessity, and perhaps all creatures also have a psychological necessity to permit the form of death. As age increases hearing, sight, and the gradual decay of all the senses cuts off the general touch with the world. From this seclusion, the cocoon is but a tiny step.”

“But,” the boy cried, “What for? What is the reason? Why?”

“A larva cannot dictate to the butterfly. I don’t know. Perhaps as a butterfly I will know the secret, perhaps there is another step after that.”

The boy let silence fall, wanting to scream that it didn’t make sense and couldn’t be. It should have been a comforting explanation, but he felt bewildered and frightened rather than comforted. “But…” He paused desperately, grasping for something to hold, something to help him push away this invading idea. “But, then the purpose of life is to die!”

“Not at all,” the tree replied, his voice weary. “the purpose of life is to form from a larva into a butterfly. A caterpillar needs only a little more time, whereas the man needs much more. Perhaps that means that man will be a more complicated butterfly or, it might mean that man is actually inferior to the caterpillar. I know not.” His voice trailed off. “I will know soon,” he said finally. “Go, for communication is becoming more difficult as the cocoon begins to weave itself around me.”

Silence fell and the boy walked on. However, silence does not reign in a forest. There was the rustling of leaves on the trees, the calls of birds from one to another, the sounds of animals bounding wildly through the trees, and the babblings of a brook skipping over the rocks in a care-free way.

The boy wandered blissfully through the forest, drinking up sights, breathing the freedom, and swallowing the love given out in such large doses.

Finally, he knew that the time had come to leave and he said in a faint whisper caught and swept away by the wind, “I must go now, Shan.”

Shan swooped down and the two left. But a part of the boy always remained in that forest and a part of the forest left with the boy. Their blood had combined.

5.   Chapter Five p. 78

Someone was shaking him and calling his name aloud. He felt his head go back and forth in a wild, but somewhat soothing manner. He felt overwhelmed by the movement and allowed his mind to flow with it. It was like bath water slopping up the edges and falling back down again in the bathtub. Back and forth. A ball in a valley, perhaps, trying to get over the top of one of the mountains surrounding it, but it kept rolling back down again and the boy began to feel defeated.

“Kevin, go answer the door! It’s for you!” Kevin recognized the voice and his mind came to a total stop. It was his sister. But his sister was dead! He could remember the coldness of her flesh. He had touched it. Someone had made him, though he had kicked and screamed. Someone forced his hand against the flesh and rubbed it against the cold, leathery skin. Her face had been a pale white, the color of moonlight without the shine that moonlight had. Kevin remembered the eyes. They had been the worse. The eyes stared at him, but they were looking beyond him, and didn’t even know he was there. He could see the eyes at night sometimes with the dreadful reality that they had that day.

Then he remembered the cocoon. She might have emerged. If that were so, though, she would be a butterfly compared to his mortal image. He was afraid to open his eyes and be seen by the butterfly. She was no longer related to him. There were separated by a single experience. She had emerged from the cocoon as a butterfly, and he still crawled as a clumsy, ugly caterpillar.

“Kevin, wake up!”

“No,” he whispered almost silently. “Go away, please. Please go away.”

“Kevin, you’ve got to answer the door!”

“I’m afraid,” he murmured. I’m sorry, he thought. I won’t open my eyes, though. I can’t see you because I’m just a caterpillar and I wouldn’t understand you. Please don’t make me.

“Oh, forget it!” said the voice.

Silence came again, but Kevin didn’t like the feeling of this silence. His sister had begged for him to open the door and he had refused. She was greater than he, he a mere caterpillar. He had turned her away, and the door would never open for him now. She would close it on him forever. Please come back, he thought. I will open the door! I will see you!

“Kevin go answer the door. There’s a friend there,” said another voice. The ball moved slightly with this deep voice beckoning it.

It’s a different voice, thought Kevin, frightened. She has left! This was no friend that had chased her away. His sister was a friend. But she was dead and he couldn’t be friends with the dead. The dead are butterflies and he was but a caterpillar. He had no friends.

“Kevin, wake up!” the voice shouted.

The ball had become heavy and it rumbled as it rolled back into the valley. It echoed as thunder when it fell into the hole, now huge and gaping. It kept falling and wouldn’t stop. Infinity, thought Kevin, and wanted to scream for it to end.

“I’m afraid!” he shouted. “I’m afraid!”

“What’s there to be afraid of?” the voice asked. Hands lifted him up and the warmth of the body crawled through him. Kevin began to feel safe and secure while sheltered by this warmth. “It was cold,” he said. “Not it’s warm again.”

The hands held tighter.

Now it began to hurt. I’m an orange, Kevin thought, and he’s trying to squeeze my juice out. All the juice is dripping from me and falling upon the floor. It’s rolling away from me! Come back! I need you! More and more fell upon the floor and Kevin felt the life within leave him. He was small and deflated now. There was only wrinkled skin left, hanging without life. Dead skin. Soon it would turn dry and would crackle when someone stepped on it. Like a cocoon, thought Kevin.

That was when he realized what had happened. He was climbing into his cocoon. It was warm and secure, but wound tightly around him. That juice leaving him was only the caterpillar. But I don’t want to be a butterfly! He thought desperately. Not yet!

He forgot to close his eyes to protect himself form the butterfly and opened them. “Dad!” he exclaimed, seeing who was holding him. “But I thought….” Kevin let the line drop.

His father did not speak.

Kevin struggled free from his arms and rans as fast he could. He ran past someone standing at the front door and down the street. Behind him he could hear his father calling him, but Kevin didn’t answer. Laying in a special place where he knew he could not be seen, Kevin began crying. He released the sobs that had been growing in his throat ever since he saw that it was only his father holding him.

And he had thought…

“Shan, I need you!” he cried. “I need you!”

As the boy came up the path he still cried. When Shan jumped beside him, he did not even pretend to be frightened. There was no laughter on his face, as there had previously been.

“Shan, I am crazy!” he cried immediately.

“Oh,” said Shan. “Why are you crazy?”

“Because I’m crazy! My older sister died years ago but I thought she was at the door beckoning me to join her in death, calling to me. I was supposed to answer the door, Shan! Just answer the door!”

Finally, Shan said, “Shan’s World hides until it is needed. Only then does it admit anyone from the other world. It is always there when it is unneeded, but not in sight. You need Shan’s World now, my friend, and it will not fail you.”

“But how can it help me! I’m not crazy here!”

“That is how it helps you. Think about it.” Shan paused. “Meantime, sit down. I think that the time has come to bring you to the Creator’s Forest so you might understand the danger of Shan’s World.”

“The danger?”

“Anything that is beautiful and a release from discomfort is bound to be dangerous in some way. Shan’s World is an escape from…”

“But I thought you said it was reality once!”

“It is real, my friend. It is reality to you, but only an illusion to anyone else you might mention.”

“Then I am crazy!” exclaimed the boy. “I am trying to escape into a world that is but an illusion.”

“No, you don’t understand. Shan’s World is reality to you, and it is, therefore, reality, but it is your own personal reality. Only to others is it an illusion.”

“But, then, it is an illusion!”

“that is a misconception so commonly held. There is an insistence that reality is something that can be verified by other people and is some mass vision easily tangible and easily proved. Reality is actual, and it is not imagery. You are actually here, and I’m not an image since you can easily feel, hear, see, and even smell and taste me, if you wish I am recorded by your senses. I am only your reality, though. No one else’s. No one but you can touch me. Others would say that you were crazy for considering me reality, but I am real to you. No one can verify my existence, but I do exist. I’m not a mass reality.”

“But you aren’t real if I’m the only one that can see you! You are not reality!”

“Do you think so? Are germs and tiny one-celled creatures reality?”

“Of course.”

“But only a person with a microscope can see them,” said Shan. “They are real only to the person with the magic eyes to see them. Why are they reality and I not?”

“Because anyone else can pick up that microscope and see them. Anyone could prove their existence.”

“If there were no such things as microscopes and one man saw germs, do you think it would be called real? No, because only one man could see it, and no one else could prove the existence of germs until they also got a microscope. Anyone could see me if I offered them the key. However, you are the only one with the magic eyes to see me, and you consider yourself crazy for it. You alone have the key, my friend, and don’t fear or feel suspicious of that key, or it won’t fit the lock. Do you honestly believe that I am but an illusion or dream?”

“No,” the boy admitted.

“Alright, then I’ll continue. Don’t hesitate if you aren’t certain of something or you don’t understand my meaning. This is important to you. Shan’s World is an escape from mass reality and the pressures it opposes. It is the retreat into personal reality. You can’t live your life in personal reality, though, because there is no contact with your environment. It is totally within yourself. What would happen if someone tried to retreat into their personal reality forever?”

The boy hesitated for a moment and then said,” They die. There would be no food, no water, and their body would die, causing their death.”

“Well, no, because most of them are taken care of by other people, and their heart would continue to beat whether they were aware of it or not. I’ll try to illustrate what I mean. What are you doing right now?”

“I’m sitting here talking with you,” the boy said.

“And in mass reality?”

“I’m hiding from my father.”

“What do you feel physically?” asked Shan, his eyes and voice intent.

“The ground I’m sitting on.”

“Mass or personal reality?”

“Personal.”

“And what are you thinking?”

“About what you are saying.”

“What are you thinking about your father and your need to hide from him?”

“Nothing.”

“What are you feeling emotionally at this moment?”

“I don’t know.” A long pause followed. “A feeling of togetherness, a feeling of being wanted, a warm, loved feeling. I just feeling safe.”

“And, what are you feeling from the reality by which others know you?”

“Nothing.”

“Then, you have no contact with any other human being, do you? You are secluded within yourself.”

“No, I’m talking to you. I am in contact with you.”

“My boy, I am your reality. I have no contact with any other being except yourself, and I am, therefore, but an extension of yourself. What are you doing right now is contacting something within you. It’s real, true, but it is within you. Therefore, you are in contact only with yourself.”

“So?”

“Your self cannot be without communication from others.”

“Why not? You’d still be you.”

“But you wouldn’t know yourself. You understand yourself only by communication and comparison. For example, if you had been born and surrounded only by animals all your life, you would compare yourself with them. Yours standards and attitude of normality would be in relation to them. If you did not know any other human beings, you would believe yourself whatever you did know. If you knew only dogs, you’d believe yourself a dog.”

The boy laughed.

“I’m serious,” Shan said. “Have you ever heard the tale of the Ugly Duckling?”

“Of course!”

“Because they did not know of swans, he was considered to be a very strange and ugly duck. However, when he compared himself with swans he found himself not ugly and unusual but beautiful and normal. It is very relative. Your self must have these relations to understand itself and to find itself as different form other selves.”

“What happens when it can’t?” asked the boy.

“It dies.”

“Your self can’t die! It’s you! Your body still lives and it needs your self1”

“But your self can die without the body and the body will still function. A dog is without a self– the awareness of it being separate from all other dogs – but it can still be trained. Your brain will still sit and stand and do as it is told but it will not relate anything to itself. It will have no self, so it cannot say, “I don’t want to do that!” Actually, it would be a living corpse. It could do and talk and walk around, but it is without life.”

“And what does this have to do with Shan’s World?” asked the boy.

“I know where some of these lost selves are. They are chained up in Shan’s World.”

“Chained up?” cried the boy.

“Not literally, of course,” Shan assured him. “They are unable to put the lives back in the bodies, though. They are living here and dying here of pure boredom.”

“But I thought this was my own personal reality!”

“It is, but I have given the key to others. Still, the way you see and what you receive from Shan’s World is totally different than what everyone else is getting from it. Each of you needed and wanted something separate, and have received different things, according to the way Shan’s World can do you the most good. Those, though, that I was speaking of only destroyed all that Shan’s World attempted to give them. Shan’s World is personal reality, but it gives to the mass reality, and the self’s ability to accept mass reality. Some people, though, refuse to accept the mass reality at all. They see the beauty of Shan’s World and wish to remain int their own personal reality all of their lives.”

“Where are these people?” the boy asked.

“In a forest you are certain to recognize. I believe you have been through it before. The Creator’s forest.”

“The only that is just like at home!” cried the boy. “I love that forest, but when I went through it the company was rather poor. All Poggii – that is the creature’s name, isn’t it?” Shan nodded and the boy continued. “All Poggii did was tell me about how dull the forest was and how very boring. I would like to see it with someone who lives it like I do. I really do love forests like that.”

“Of course you do. It is just as those you know at home. It was a blue sky, and day and night, and green trees, and brooks. I’ll admit, it is a very refreshing little forest, because it does not shine as brightly as some of the others, but seems to have a sense of peace and calmness about it. The Flashing forests seem to be in constant movement and excitement. The Creator’s Forest, and some of the others are created to offset this excitement and happiness and to give a little bit of peace and calm for those who need it. The others form your world have also made their home in that forest, to delude themselves into believing they can recreate their world in Shan’s World. It is, of course, impossible.”

“But why don’t you let them go home?” asked the boy.

“They denied their paths, and have lost them. I cannot create a path for them. At first, the paths are there, and there is no problem going to Shan’s World and back, but when you deny your path, you lose it. It will not appear at your own command. It is impossible for you to return until you find the secret of the path.”

“The secret of the path?”

“Within it lies the secret of Shan’s World. To get your path again, you must have done for yourself, what Shan’s World had set out to do for you. If you are able to do that, you can understand Shan’s World better than I could ever tell you.”

“Can you try to tell me?”

“Can you describe a color to me and make my mind’s eye see it. No, I can’t tell you.”

“Can you help me find it?”

“Have you denied your path?”

“No.”

“Then that is what I’m going to do. That is what I am here for. Deny your path, though, my boy, and you will probably lose Kevin forever.”

“I won’t deny the path,” the boy promised.

“Good. I must leave you now. I am not going with you and the Creator’s Forest. I want you to see if for yourself without my influence. Stay awhile. Observe and understand what you see. Good-by, my friend. Good luck.” With that Shan took off and disappeared. It was only a moment more before the boy found himself sitting beside a blue stream chattering loudly as it slipped over the rocks.

“Thank you, Shan,” he said, knowing that Shan could hear him, even if his friend was not standing beside him. Shan had ears for all important and unimportant remarks in Shan’s World. “I thought you were forgetting me.”

As Shan had said, the Creator’s Forest was refreshing and it did have a strong sense of peacefulness and calmness about it. The boy felt as though he could lie down by the stream and just fall asleep with its gentle music seducing his mind, the comforting singing of the trees shivering in the wind, and the birds in those trees lulling his mind to sleep. The boy felt safe, secure, and welcome in the Creator’s forest with the entire forest protecting him. He laid down beside the brook, allowing the cool water to slip between his fingers and around his hand. He closed his eyes –- just for a minute, he promised himself – and was soon asleep with the colossal trees of the forest protecting him like guardian angels.

His awakening was quick. He heard someone say, “Look!” and a hand touched his shoulder. In a second, he was awake and alert, only to find himself staring at two men. One was dressed in what resembled a cloak that made him blend in with the trees. It looked like a fatigue outfit or a deliberate disguise to make him blend into the scenery. The other man wore an outfit similarly colored, but it was a suit rather than a long cloak.

“Of what unit?” demanded the cloaked man, his fingers digging into the flesh of the boy’s arm.

“He wears no insignia,” observed the other man, his voice accusing. “That’s against the rules! He should be punished.”

The fingers dug deeper. “Of what unit?” repeated the man.

“No unit,” the man replied, shaking his head bewilderly. “what are you talking about?” He felt overwhelmed by height, strength, and age, but somehow the man’s remarks about rules made him feel more secure.

“Take him prisoner!” ordered the cloaked figure. “We can trade him!” His voice was commanding.

“But with home?” asked the other man. “He wears no insignia!”

“Of what unit are you?” barked the obvious leader in the cloak. “It’s not fair to lie and you must tell us.”

The boy was suddenly struck by the absurdity. Here were adult men, larger than he was, sounding like petulant children complaining about rules and what was fair. He no longer felt any fear.

“I don’t even know what you mean!” he insisted, feeling almost superior to those who had them as their “prisoner.” “I am of no unit!”

“You must tell,” said the cloaked man. “Where’s your insignia?”
“I am a guest!” said the boy, his voice strong. “I’ve never even been in this forest before!” A small lie wouldn’t hurt.

“Do you believe him?” asked the other man of the cloaked figure. “It might be a trick.”

“Perhaps,” agreed the other. “It is against the rules but rules are unimportant to some. Do you have a path?” he asked the boy.

“I can go home,” the boy replied. “I have a path.”

“Then leave this forest,” ordered the leader. “Don’t return.”

The boy wanted to stay though. He felt a sudden desire to see what these “lost selves” thought and did. He wanted to be a part of their lives for awhile.

“But I’m going to deny the path. I wish to remain in my personal world,” he assured them.

“Leave!” yelled the cloaked figure, his face becoming red and angry. “Never return to this forest or Shan’s World. Leave! You are unwelcome!”

The boy was surprised. It had not been only anger in that voice or those glinting eyes. There had been something else, an emotion he never believed could be found in Shan’s World. The man had portrayed contempt and hatred. His voice and eyes were bitter and ugly. The boy would have cowered with fear ordinarily, but he knew instinctively that the anger and hatred was not directed toward him. It seemed to be directed at the man himself. The other had turned away from them, so the boy was unable to compare their reactions.

“Please let me stay!” pleaded the boy, unafraid now because he felt that the man was afraid of him. “I must go somewhere!”

The man’s cold eyes looked directly at him. “Have you already denied your path?” he demanded.

The boy began to be afraid now, because, though the anger was not caused personally by him, he was the source. This man was terribly angry, but angry in a manner more calculated than the ordinary emotion. He’s cold, thought the boy, and he hates. “Yes,” he said, because the man’s eyes seemed to put this word into his head and made him speak it.

Fingers dug deeply into the boy. He’s peeling me, thought the boy. My skin is going to lie ripped from me upon the ground and I’ll stand naked, only a soft fruit easily squeezed. He’ll keep squeezing and I’ll lose everything/! Even my seeds will fly under the pressure. The fear built within him.

“No!” he spoke out loud. I’m me. I’m a person. No one can do that to me, he thought desperately. Once again, he felt his safe present and sighed with relief.

“Yes or no?” demanded the man, his voice deeper and sharper.

Icicles, thought the boy. Hanging from the top of the roof, and if I stand up I will be hit by them. They will go deep within my head like spikes and my brain shall drip from the hole.

Again, the boy drew himself up and forced himself to meet the situation. He was unable to shake the feeling, though, that came from the man’s eyes. As he looked in them, he felt as though he were a piece of dust being sucked into the vacuum. The vacuum was a deep hole that didn’t seem to end. Through it he felt the truth slip away from it, and the man’s will demanded that he reply his way! “Yes,” said the boy, feeling choked though his voice was clear.

The fingers ripped flesh as the cloaked man dug into the boy and shoved him backwards at the same time. “Fool!” he screamed, the calculated anger replaced with a violent hatred. “Fool! Fool! Fool! Shan warned you! He said you’d lose your home forever. He told you your body would waste away and slowly your self would also die because it would have only Shan’s World! He warned you! He warned you! Why did you ignore it? Why? Why? Why? You fool, it is happening! You can’t even retain your vision of Shan’s World! Fool! Why didn’t you listen? Why didn’t you listen, you fool!”

“Jason!” the other man grabbed him and pulled him from the boy. “Stop it! Stop it!”

The violence left him and he collapsed sobbing in the grass. “Fool! Fool!” he kept muttering. His fists clenched the grass and pulled it from the ground.

His friend turned away from him into his former position. He stood gazing at some trees.

The boy stood up slowly, strangely not feeling bruised or sore at all. he wasn’t yelling at me, said the boy out loud to no one in particular, as he looked at the man sobbing silently. “He wasn’t even made at me.”

“No,” agreed the other man, still not turning around. “No one here is angry with anyone else. No one is even aware of anyone else, but as another part of themselves. That could easily have been me. That was me. I was beating you and screaming at you as loudly as he. But neither of us were even aware of you. You can deny the path as much as you want. I don’t care.”

“But he tried to kill me!” exclaimed the boy. “Why?”

“Save you some suffering perhaps,” said the man, but his tone was sarcastic. Then he clenched his teeth tightly. “Because I could see myself in you. I could see myself denying the path and I felt angry for doing it again. You don’t matter to me or to him…”  He motioned to the man sobbing – “But we matter to ourselves and you brought back the reality of the horror that we had committed.”

“Then why’d you pull him off me?” asked the boy. “You care about him.”

“He is just another extension of myself, as are you. If he had continued any longer, I would have joined him, and it’s foolish to beat another when it is only yourself that you hate, and it is only you that you long to beat, he said. “that wasn’t helping him and it wouldn’t have helped me. All it would have done is kill you If I could beat myself, I’d do it, and even that wouldn’t help. We had a flash of sanity when you were being beaten. Our minds were rejecting what we had done to ourselves and it was making one more attempt to show us its anger. He allowed it to, but it won’t help, and I didn’t allow myself to, though I threw as many blows as he did. Nothing will help us.”

“Surely there’s something!” the boy said.

The man smirked scornfully. “Death,” he said. “But even that is denied us. The only reachable death is still hell, we’re just unaware of it. It isn’t worth the unawareness. I don’t understand that personal reality Shan used to talk about it. Why must we create a heaven and hell for ourselves? Surely, you want only one!”

The boy did not reply.

“Never mind,” said the man a moment later. “Come with me. I guess we will have to auction you off to one of the units.”

“What about him?” asked the boy, referring to the other, Jason.

“What about him?” retorted the other. “surely he can take care of himself.”

The boy followed his companion through the forest almost half way to the place the man was leading them the boy stopped.

“What’s wrong?” asked the man.

“Nothing,” the boy said uncertainly. “I just thought I heard something.”

“You heard the forest.”

“I thought I heard someone calling me.”

The man stopped this time. “Did you lie to us?” he asked sharply.

“No, no,” the boy assured him hurriedly. “Besides no one calls you by your name around here.”

“They do after you’ve denied the path, because then you truly lose all freedom to find your self. You’re right back to something worse than you were before you left Shan’s World. You’ll see.”

Kevin’s father found his wife in the kitchen washing dishes. “Aimee, I think Kevin is going to run away from home,” he said quietly.

She turned quickly. “what are you talking about?” she demanded.

“He just ran from me. You go out and get the other children, and I’ll go ask some neighbors to help us find him. Home of the children would probably know where he is hiding.”

“But, Keith, why should he…” she began.

He interrupted her. “that isn’t important right now. Let’s find him first.”

They told the neighbors that Keith had punished Kevin when the boy ran away. “I wouldn’t worry if it wasn’t so close to sunset and that boy wasn’t so stubborn!” Keith told them apologetically. “As it is, I’m afraid he’ll stay out all night if we don’t find him.” The neighbors were understanding and soon the streets were filled with voices calling to Kevin.

The boy stopped again. “I’m sure I heard someone calling me,” he said.

“I heard no one,” replied his companion, pulling his arm to hurry the boy up.

“They were calling my name, not my self,” the boy said slowly, puzzled. “Do you suppose it is from mass reality?”

“If it is then you must have found the secret,” the companion said.

“What if I have?’ asked the boy. “What happens?”

“I don’t know. I suppose your self returns to its body.” The boy was too engrossed in his own questions to observe the malicious look in his companion’s eyes. Why, he was thinking, should a child as young as the boy be able to discover the secret, while his own body lay somewhere without a self? He longed to hold the boy immobile until he told the secret to him. However, he knew it was impossible, being that the boy was only a self.

“What should I do?” Should I call Shan?”

“Shan is the intermediary only when the path is still open to you. The act of discovering the secret is something having nothing to do with Shan. It is between the creator and a secret he planted in Shan’s World and the self that has discovered it.

Kevin was finally found in the place he had chosen to hide, which was between several boxes in a nearby field. The man who found him laughed quietly for a minute before he called to the others. “I found him!” You won’t believe that he’s doing! He’s asleep!”

“Poor boy, he probably cried himself to sleep,” someone said sympathetically.

“When I punish my children they don’t run away,” said another man.

“Pick him up, but try not to awaken him, and I’ll go tell Keith and Aimie. They’ll be relieved.”

When the man picked Kevin up, though, he checked to see if the boy actually was asleep. His eyes were closed as in sleep, but there was something strange about the manner of his sleep. Perhaps Kevin was only playing opossum, the man thought, but someone that didn’t satisfy the peculiarity of Kevin’s sleep. First, he seemed to have stiffened and then relaxed into a comfortable position, his body still tight. It’s only my imagination, the man told himself. Probably the boy was half-awake and hardly aware of what was taking place.

“I hope you don’t get angry with him too often,” someone said to Keith, “for he finds good places to hide!” they laughed.

Keith thanked them strongly and offered them all a drink. All of them refused, realizing it was only a courtesy offer anyway.

“He would be asleep,” Keith muttered to his wife. “After all that, and he was asleep!”

“I’m worried about him,” Aimie said. “I don’t think he’s been feeling well lately. I’m going to take him to a doctor for a complete checkup.”

“I don’t think that will help,” Keith said. “he’s just going through a phase.”

“Ever since Dianne’s death…”

“It changed all of us,” her husband interrupted sharply.

Aimie nodded doubtfully. “Yes, but…”

“Kevin is going through one of the phases of growing up. Diane’s death had nothing to do with it except in the manner it changed all of us.”

“But Kevin was there and he’s…”

“Stephanie was also in the car, and she’s not acting strangely. He’s just growing up, Aimie.”

“Stephie’ s different,” Aimie said slowly. “She doesn’t react in the same way.” She chose her words carefully and slowly but they still couldn’t say what she wanted said.

“Kevin hardly reacted at all! It hardly bothered him,” Keith said. “Do you remember how upset Stephie was? I thought we’d never calm her down. But I don’t think Kevin even realized what happened.”

“But that’s what’s wrong. He didn’t know how to react or quite understand what happened. He wasn’t certain what to feel or what feelings were right and he couldn’t grasp the meaning of what had occurred. Kevin has suppressed his emotions.”

“I’ll put him in his bed,” Keith said. As he went up the stairs he called down, “I’ll talk to him later.”

When he rejoined his wife in the living room, she pleaded, “Just establish some trivial communication with him so he can release his thoughts and emotions in some way.”

Keith conceded. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.

“I hope you don’t get angry with him too often for he finds good places to hide!” said a voice, and someone laughed.

The boy whirled around but there was no one there.

Suddenly Shan was beside him. “I’m going to transfer you to your path as quickly as possible,” he said to the boy, “and you run up it as fast as you can! Next time you return you shall find time unchanged, for only in this world shall this interval pass. Run up that path!”

The boy obeyed to the best of his ability.

6.   Chapter Six p. 102

Slowly Kevin opened his eyes. He was not panting, but he felt as though he should be. The path was difficult to walk, but nearly impossible to run.

“You did wake him up!” exclaimed his mother, right beside his bed.

Kevin’s eyes flew to her face and then carefully scanned the room. He must have been here when he left for Shan’s World, he decided. Then he shook his head. He had been hiding from his father. That meant that his body must be learning to live without his self. That meant that it works, just like Shan had said. “It works,” Kevin said aloud. “He was right!”

“What works?” asked his father gently. “Who was right, Kevin?”

“Nothing,” said Kevin.

“Don’t you two talk too long,” Aimie warned. “I’m putting dinner in the oven right now, and it won’t be long before it’s ready.”

“Stay and talk with us,” her husband urged.

She shook her head. “Not now,” she said and Kevin felt that she was saying more than those two words. She had been telling Keith something, but Kevin couldn’t figure out what.

Kevin studied the lines on his father’s face. They interested him. “All roads lead to Rome,” he though. Did his father’s lines all lead to the same meaning or idea? They were recent, but seemed deeply grooved. They lead nowhere, Kevin realized amazed. Everything leaded to something, he had always been told. Everything was a link in a chain. But the lines on the forehead went straight and then tapered off to nothing. That meant that there were really was nothing. He had been told there was no such thing. “There’s always something” someone had said, “Because to be nothing there has to be something.” And here was nothing. Proof of its existence! Kevin thought triumphantly, and he wondered what that knowledge meant.

“Is something wrong, Kevin?” asked his father, watching the boy carefully.

Kevin, thought Kevin. What a silly name. He had once heard that it meant “kind and gentle.” It didn’t sound like that, the boy decided. It sounded like a ship going up a wave and then coming down it. It was a sloping name that seemed to run on forever. “Kevvv—innn,” said Kevin and let the letters roll on slowly to die out. It sounded like music. “Kevvv-in!” That sounded like his sister’s version of the name. He didn’t like that at all. “Kev-inn,” he said playing with the N’s on his tongue. That sounded like a baby just learning how to talk or pronounce his name. “Kevin,” said Kevin.

Suddenly Kevin remembered that that was his name and father had directed a question to it. “What did you say?” he asked, not looking at Keith.

His father did not immediately answer. He stood looking at the boy, until finally he said, “I only wanted to know if you were alright.”

“I’m alright,” said Kevin. He remembered the admonition he had gotten from Shan about not giving his parents the chance to understand him, so he offered a little bit of his thoughts. His father could accept or reject it, and then the boy would know what he wanted. “I think I’ve got a strange name,” he said.

“I like it,” Keith commented. “What’s wrong with it?”

Kevin suddenly felt afraid. He wasn’t certain why but he didn’t want the conversation to continue. He didn’t want to open himself up to his father, and he retreated. He said, “Nothing.”

“Kevin, do you know who you were named after?” asked Keith undaunted. He knew he had to reach Kevin somehow and the boy wanted to talk because he had begun the conversation. It was up to Keith to provide Kevin easy accessibility to the communication he needed so badly. He didn’t expect to get anything said in this conversation but he hoped to open a door that words along could never reach.

“No,” said Kevin. “No” certainly was a short word, he reflected. It said so much, though, and was so often traitorous. Often “no” would mean “yeas” but the word alone could never communicate the difference. Words, Kevin reflected, were so flexible and were taken so often only from their dictionary meaning. No word needed looking up for the definition, for watching the person speaking, usually supplied what the word meant, to them, and that sometimes had nothing to do with stated definitions.

Sometimes, he thought, whole sentences lie. His father hadn’t meant what he asked. Keith had meant: “Do you want to talk to me?” and Kevin’s reply meant, “If you talk, I’ll listen.” Words, thought Kevin, are games in which people juggle thoughts back and forth, trying to say less than they mean so they wouldn’t be considered rude or direct. Conversations are guessing games in which each word must be related to the person using it. It was an interesting game, Kevin decided.

“Kevin Keith Woodard, your full name is also mine, and I was named after my father. He and his father before him were all named Kevin Keith, just as you are,” Keith paused.

This pause, thought Kevin, means: Do you accept my offer? If I say nothing I do not accept it. If I speak, then there is still a chance for conversation. Taking a deep breath, Kevin said, “Why?”

Keith released a breath. “It’s a family tradition. The eldest son is named after the father. You have come from a direct lineage of eldest sons, and therefore your name is Kevin Keith Woodward. It is an important name. Do you want to know how the tradition began?”

Now we are less subtle, Kevin thought. Now I must openly agree to continue or terminate the conversation. It is now past the introductory stage and soon I will be asked to contribute. Kevin wasn’t certain he would be able to, but he felt a strong desire for this conversation to continue. “Yes,” he said.

“It began with my father’s father, who would be your great-grandfather. He was a famous scholar, writer, teacher, and the founder of a university. “Your name,” he once said to my grandfather, ‘is the symbol of you. However, you never stand alone with this symbol, for all others that bear the same name support you. Each builds to that name, each adds their block. It is your duty to your namesake to make that name stand tall.’ So, you were named Kevin, and I, your father, was also named Kevin. You are a fifth generation bearing that name. You as the fifth bearer, were born with goals and hopes four generations old.”

“Goals and hopes four generations old,” Kevin repeated silently. “It is your duty to your namesake to make that name stand tall.”

Keith stopped and listened to what he had said echo against the silence in the room. The last six words cursed him for the mistake he had made. Kevin would never fulfill the goals and hopes four generations old. He was not strong enough or intelligent enough to be the leader that was required. His younger sister was stronger in character than Kevin and she dominated him easily. Kevin could not build that tower, but might even tear it down instead. Keith felt the weight of his words fall upon him.

Kevin watched his father. He knew what the long pause following that sentence had meant. “I’m sorry, Daddy!” he cried impulsively. After a minute he realized he hadn’t even spoken aloud. It wouldn’t matter anyway, he told himself. I was only going to speak words, and words have no meaning. Six words, though Kevin would never forget, because it states that the hopes of men he never even knew depended upon him. And the pause that followed meant that his father considered Kevin incapable of fulfilling those hopes and goals.

Kevin felt as though he were a china doll and someone shouted in the little glass box in which he lay. The vibrations caused him to break into separate little pieces and fall scattered into the box as nothing. What a beautiful china doll it had been! Now it was nothing because it was broken. Someone had broken it. Kevin did it. It was Kevin’s fault. Everything was Kevin’s fault. The hopes and goals of four generations, and Kevin broke it.

“and you will bear that name proudly, Kevin,” Keith said. “You will build to it.” But he knew that it was too late. His son’s face showed him that.

Some words, thought Kevin, attempted to retrieve other words as a dog retrieves the duck shot by the hunter. They even attempted to bring alive something already killed. “You can bring the duck out of the swamp,” Kevin said aloud, slowly, and carefully. “But you cannot make it fly again.”

Keith wasn’t certain he understood exactly what the boy meant, but it was more words than he had heard from Kevin in a long time, and that cheered him. He knew that Kevin was trying to say something that was very important to him, but Keith was unsure what he meant. He and Kevin had fallen on two different wave lengths now, and he was unable to reach his son. All that they had built in the last hour was broken by six careless words.

Kevin surprised his father when he asked, “Have you fulfilled the hopes and goals of four generations?”

“I am working very hard to do so,” Keith said. “My books are adding something, I believe, to the tower of the name.”

“Then I shall work very hard to do so,” Kevin said.

“Kevin, you will be able to…”

Kevin shook his head. “You can take the duck out of the swamp, but you can’t make it fly again,” he repeated. Keith had said with a pause more than mere words could hope to erase. Silence, thought Kevin, sometimes spoke louder and more clearly than words, and it always meant more. A person who understands and can bear silence is secure, Kevin decided. He was insecure.

This time Keith understood. “You’re right, Kevin,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry.” He stood up, but didn’t move for a minute. “I’ll see you later,” he said, “at dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“We’ll send some up.”

“No.”

“Alright. Good night.” Keith closed the door.

Kevin laid back on his bed. “The hopes and goals of four generations,” he said aloud. His father would fulfill those hopes, his grandfather had and his contribution would remain fixed to the meaning of the name. Forever his grandfather and great-grandfather would be on the roll when historical names were called out.

 So, Kevin must also leave something to the name of Kevin Keith Woodard. His father’s doubt had filled the room, but it was Kevin’s responsibility to do as his father before him had done. He must not be the only Kevin Keith Woodard to fail the name. He had to add at least a line to the growing history. Kevin squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh, let the line not say, ‘no sufficient importance to this world!’ he begged but he wasn’t sure who he was pleading with. Surely God didn’t care about a small boy with a big name? why couldn’t I have been named Billy? He cried silently. Why was I even named?

He felt a heavy sense of responsibility. He loved his father and wanted his father to love him. His father had given his name to Kevin and Kevin felt that it was his responsibility to do justice to it. But he had seen on his father’s face and in the pause that followed that he did not have the ability to fulfill the goals placed before him four generations ago. Could his father love him feeling Kevin’s weakness?

Kevin was confused. He had loved this day and felt loved. Somehow just sitting in that room with his father had made him feel love, but that love wasn’t happy and secure. It hurt him to love his father, and added a feeling of fear and inadequacy. Was not love something beautiful like Shan’s World? He asked the world silently. Wasn’t it supposed to be wonderful and give him a happy feeling, a security, a peace? Why did the knowledge that he was loved fill him with sadness, fear, and responsibility?

He twisted over in his bed. Why wasn’t anything the way it should be? Why didn’t he feel good and happy? Why couldn’t he have really talked to his father rather than letting the undercurrent carry the communications? Why couldn’t he be the way he wanted to be – the way everyone wanted him to be? What was wrong with him?

The hopes and goals of four generations, thought Kevin have fallen on a failure.

He twisted violently on his bed. “Oh, Shan, I think Shan’s World is failing me!” he whispered softly. “Or I am failing it,” he added.

Walking down the path was not as difficult as before. He felt almost as though he could sit down and slide into Shan’s World.

He found his hand gripped by Jason’s friend. “We can waste no more time,” his companion said. “Already they may have had the auction, and if they have we’ll have to keep you for this week!”

“The auction?”

“The trade of men from the units. You must be auctioned off, though you’ll probably be traded for a very low man. If you are very lucky we might be traded for a little better.”

“It doesn’t matter to me what I’m traded for,” the boy stated.

His companion laughed bitterly. “You’re still new and sane. After you have been among us for long, you shall see. You will long to be the most often bid for and the most expensive. It is an insane form of business competition, you see. We get into units and try to capture eachother. We trade prisoners and try to get the best unit. All prisoners must help cook, clean, and otherwise be slaves. It is similar to a war game when it is being played. You see, we are so homesick, we have become truly sick.”

“Do they trade women, too?” asked the boy.

“Certainly, but in a different way. Once every seven days, the girls are bid upon. The one who offers the most fighting men to the previous owner gets the girl. The girls are special and only a leader of men get one.”

“I don’t understand. How do you determine who are to be the leaders?”

“For that, too, must be a fight. You see the cloaked men are leaders, but if they lose their cloak they lose leadership. Someone can take their cloaks from them. At night each must remove their cloaks and hide or guard them. Anyway, who steals the cloak is then the captain of his team. We have an admiral, who has two cloaks, but hiding two is difficult and he lives in constant fear of losing all his power. At one time we had a general, but the insanity truly filled him. With three cloaks his life was horror. In any case he left one day with all three cloaks and never returned. Some say they have seen him, but I think poor Gunther Oiunea is lost forever.” Again, he gave his bitter, biting laugh. “as if we all aren’t just as lost. We’re the leaf fallen from a tree that floats through the empty air all alone forever. Some claim to still be a part of that tree, but they’re even more lost. They’re running parallel with the ground, so can get nowhere. At least someday I’ll land.”

“Why don’t you try to find a way out? There must be some way!”

“Oh, yes!” The sarcastic tone in his voice was shadowed by a deep sadness. “I could have had that understanding the first or second day after I made my denial. I could have returned anytime during those days, but I still loved Shan’s World. The understanding is most obvious anytime during your visit, but three days after the denial and you lose it. You don’t even care then, because Shan’s World is still synonymous with heave, but you realize that something is gone. From that moment on, Shan’s World is a skeleton, and it is quickly decomposing to fine dust. The understanding is not hard to know, but after the denial it is lost, and though you can feel it, you can’t reach it. I swear sometimes I know it, but when I grasp it to communicate its meaning, I find it gone. It’s like an evasive bug biting you when you are unaware and hiding when you are aware.”

The boy looked at the Creator’s forest and thought all the other forests. “But it is so very beautiful!” he exclaimed. “Shan’s World is all love, happiness, beauty peace and joy. It would seem absolutely impossible to tire of such a combination! I could live here forever!”

“So, it would seem and so you could,” said the other. “Some of us will live here forever, and perhaps you will but Shan’s World isn’t what it seems. It depends upon your need for it and you don’t need Shan’s World after a year of it. You need the opposite desperately. You need conflict and hatred and bitterness and all the other things you quickly develop in yourself. If you were to stay here forever, before your term was over, you’d be a dead self. We’ve created our own conflict, what else could we do? But it is a false conflict based not of natural urges to fight but the need for conflict in survival. It is false. You can see that easily now, being new here. Your reply about it not mattering to you shows what a false and really unimportant thing it is to you. But it is a vital to us and will also be to you someday. It’s a game of nothing on which our survival depends. It will fail us, though, because we are all so terribly award of its falseness.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do to get back home?” asked the boy.

“No.”

They walked in silence for awhile. The boy considered the life that must be led by those people. It seemed from his description to be a total mass of conflict. Judging from the two examples he had seen, the boy decided it would not be a very happy environment. If each person was as embittered and full of complete hatred as plagued Jason and the boy’s present companion, he was sure sparks flew often. He couldn’t help wondering what happened when sparks truly ignited a fire.

‘Are there many fights?” asked the boy.

“Where?”

“Where you live.”

“At the place? No, there are no fights. There is no anger. Everything is very regulated. We don’t care about fighting, and anger does nothing. We are a peaceful, hating folk, but we keep our hatred to ourselves. Talking to each other would kill us. We would all explode and many people would be banished from the forest. A lot of others would exist in the hell of the limbo.”

“The limbo?”

“Between life and death. When someone should die and is unable the result is a limbo, which is like an overlapping of the two. The result is also hell, it is forever in complete pain.”

“How does that happen?”

“Someone simply kills another; and he cannot escape from limbo. Have you finished asking all your questions? I believe that I have answered more than enough.”

They finished the trip in silence. Only when they came in front of an opening in a mountain did his companion speak again. “this is the place,” he said.

“You meant, this is your home?” asked the boy, seeing only a rather large hole in the mountain. It could not be a large cave, he decided.

“No, it isn’t our home,” the other replied. “It is where we live. It is no home.”

The place turned out to be a large cave, large enough for the fifteen to twenty who resided there. Though when first entered it looked tiny, it hollowed out into a huge main room with smaller rooms extending from it. The boy was reminded for an ant hill with all its various rooms and tunnels. We probably look like a bunch of ants scurrying around, he thought, and smiled. A large wooden table, was in the middle of the room with a plate and some fruit on it. On the floor was a rug, and lined up against the walls were the chairs. Its sterility and neatness sent a strange chill scampering up the boy’s back. The place seemed totally without personality or life. Most houses, thought the boy, caused some feeling about them, but this one was a neatly groomed corpse. No wonder Jason’s friend refused to call the place home. The boy couldn’t help feeling, after hearing Shan describe these people as being dead, that this was their coffin.

“I’m going to go get Jason’s cloak, so you…”

“But he’s your friend!” exclaimed the boy. “How can you go do that?”

 “We have no friends here. Everyone else is just another part of us. He’s a part I despise. He’s weak and stupid. He still believes that he’s attached to the tree. It shocked him this afternoon when he realized who wrong he was. He’ll spend the rest of his life in shock.”

“Then why don’t you help him?”

He laughed, without humor, but with bitterness and bite. Nothing was funny to him unless it was sarcastic. “Fool. I can’t help him. I’m in shock myself. Good-by.”

“Wait!” cried the boy. “What about me?”

He turned around when he reached the mouth of the cave. “What about you? Just stay there.”

The boy sat down on the floor, since the chairs so carefully lined up seemed to be hostile to him. They made him think of a line of prisoners against the wall awaiting their turn to be shot.

He turned around quickly, as he heard footsteps behind him and saw a girl staring at him. She looked only slightly older than he, though she seemed much older in manner. “New?” she asked.

The boy nodded.

“Have you denied the path?”

Again, he nodded.

The girl turned away and went into one of the extending rooms. When she came back she sat down on a bench by the table. “Why?” she asked.

“What?” asked the boy.

“Why’d you deny the path?” She carefully rearranged the fruit, but seemed to be paying little attention to it.

“I like Shan’s World,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because it’s such a happy beautiful place,” he replied looking up to see what she was thinking and finding her still playing with the fruit.

“Have you ever been in the Dark Lands, the Dull Forest, or the Dark Forest?”

“I’ve never been in the Dark Lands, but I’ve been in the other two,” he said. “Why?”

She still avoided his eyes. “Are they a part of Shan’s World?”

“The Dull Forest is.”

“In a way they all are, for neither will be found in our own world. But they aren’t happy, which means that Shan’s World can be anything. It can be both happy and unhappy, peaceful, and terrifying. The only difference between Shan’s World and our own is that the good and bad, beauty and ugly and both extremes of everything are separated. Do you still have the understanding?”

“I don’t think so,” said the boy.

“Then you do have it. When it’s gone you don’t doubt that something is missing, even if you don’t know what. You still have the secret.” She looked directly at the boy and in her eyes and voice was a strange look that the boy was unable to identify. It seemed to be a vague form of concern and urgency, but it was hazy and unclear. “Search your soul. Find the secret and go home. Claim your key now before it’s too late!”

“why are you telling me this?” asked the boy, confused because he could not understand the meaning behind the words.

“I want you to be safe within your own home before it’s too late for you Now is your last chance. Go. Don’t wait!”

“But why do you care?” asked the boy. “Why do you want me gone? It won’t help you any.”

She smiled, not bitterly, but as though she was hiding a very wonderful secret. Even that, thought the boy, was hazy and unclear. “Because it feels good when I know one more person is safe.”

“No,” said the boy, unable to understand the answer he wanted, and knowing she wasn’t giving the right one or the one he had to know. “No, that isn’t what I mean. Why are you telling me this? What do you want from me? How will my leaving help you?”” One of the questions had to have the reason for her vagueness, her apparent sense of urgency and need.

“Because I can be happy through you,” she said, the smile was gone and replaced by the urgency again. “when I know someone else has gone home, I can go home too. I will be able to feel the life of home again, though I am here. My real surroundings won’t even manner. I can be at home with you and through you, do you understand?”

The boy nodded.

“Please go home,” she pleaded, but the boy couldn’t help thinking that her wish for him to go home was overshadowed with a fear of something. She had a vague intensity of plea in her eyes, but behind the plea was the dread that he would agree.

He shook his head. “I love Shan’s World. I love it here and feel no desire to go home.”

“Please! You’ll thank me later on. Please!”

“I’m sorry.”

She got up and left the room for a span of about ten minutes. Finally, she returned. “What’s wrong with your home?” she asked.

“Nothing,” replied the boy.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I like it here.”

“How’d you get into Shan’s World? Why were you admitted? What was it supposed to do for you?”

“Because.” The boy didn’t like talking about his home or his problems when he was in Shan’s World, especially not to her. It doesn’t matter. The fact remains that I’m here.” He disliked the harshness of his voice. The cave was beginning to affect him. I’m going outside so I can breathe again.”

“Stay around. Don’t forget you’re a prisoner, and it isn’t fair to leave the premises. An escaped prisoner is always banished from the forest.”

“Don’t worry,” advised the boy. “I intend to be around here for awhile and won’t risk being banished.”

“Good.”

He breathed the fresh air and sucked in the expansiveness of the Forest. He felt alive once more. The cave was large but it seemed to smother the boy. Only the walls were far apart in the cave, everything else was so close together they blended in: love and hate, isolation and togetherness, happiness and bitterness need and rejection. The emotions had gathered themselves in a ball, as all the colors blending and had become an ugly black the absence of all emotion. From all the intense emotions an intense apathy had been created, and all other feelings were made to counter the apathetic attitude. They were playing a game with words. However, the boy added as he remembered the look on the girl’s face, they were unaware of the game they were playing.

He climbed a tree and laid on a long branch as the tree rocked back and forth. Finally, he saw a band of men coming toward the cave. In the lead was one man with a cloak just like Jason’s. He turned to another man. “go see if we are the first in,” he ordered.

The other man went through the cave openings. A moment later, he returned. “We are going to be alone in it,” he said. “however, one of the Jason’s men came first and brought a new one.”

“Is the new one in there?”

“Anne said he went for a walk.”

“Good. Go in. Bring the prisoners and put them in the left room. Don’t lock it, they’re from an honorable unit.”

“We should have a feast,” suggested one.

“Definitely,” agreed the others.

“After all, it is not often a cloak is captured in true battle. It should be a grant feast.”

“No!” ordered the one with the cloak. “We shall not feast, for I do not want two cloaks. We will feast tomorrow, for tomorrow one must capture the new cloak from me. Each of you shall have a chance, but I have not decided how the contest shall be done. Tomorrow the feast, today the battle.”

There were cheers from the other six men with him.

“It is getting dark,” spike the cloaked figure. “We must decide now whether we shall allow only our unit or all units to battle for the cloak. I’m certain there are rules concerning this sort of thing.”

“We can consult the admiral,” suggested one man.

“It shall not be I, because he would definitely wish that there be no other Admiral and now that is my standing poll, you ask him. Say that the unit found another cloak or tell him that we truly captured it and ask if our unit alone may battle for it.”

“Let us go in,” suggested the captain after Pall had left. “We shall be a very rich unit after tonight if others may also fight for the cloak, because I shall demand a payment of some type for the competition.”

“Demand each captain gave one man if all his unit should fail,” one of the men commented. “Then we shall truly be rich, because our unit shall gain the cloak anyway.”

“Only one from this unit will get the cloak’ said another man, “and then he shall not be of this unit. This is the unit that will be rich, the man who gets the cloak shall be but a poor captain.”

“Don’t forget, there is also an auction tonight,” another man reminded them. He was speaking to no one in particular and made no attempt to make this reminder fit into the conversation.

“We have claimed many prisoners!” stated one of the men proudly. “A whole unit is ours to trade for better men. He who wins the cloak will have to get an army by himself, for with that cloak comes none!”

All except the last went in, still congratulating each other for their extremely good luck and their obvious skill. Their manner was not exactly that of victory, though. The boy sat on a branch of the tree feeling slightly confused. These people were so contradictory!

One lone man came after them, his clothes tattered, and the boy could see through the dimming light, his face with a tired look. However, the exhausted air completely vanished as he saw one of the previous unit standing at the mouth of the cave. “I am not defeated!” he called proudly to the other. “I follow my cloak uncaptured.”

“Ah,” said the other. “Then there shall be two to make an army of the cloak.”

“The cloak shall be word proudly,” said the other man. “From a drying unit it shall become a proud army.”

“If it were not darkening now, I would claim your prisoner and your unit would be dead.”

“If it were not darkening, I should not have returned,” replied the other, with a grin. “Allow me to enter.”

The boy was shocked, and he climbed from the tree. He wanted to know that man better, for in the grin there had been humor and friendliness.

As he neared the cave mouth the man challenged him. “Who are you?” he asked, a long stick with a star extended towards the boy.

“I am the new addition,” he replied.

“What unit captured you?” asked the man.

“Jason’s unit,” the boy replied.

There was a vague form of surprise on the man’s face. “Come with me!” he barked.

The boy followed him to the Captain, who was sitting on the bench speaking to the other man who had just entered. They were speaking earnestly, but his companion interrupted. “Captain, this boy was captured by Jason’s unit,” he said.

The captain immediately turned to stare at the one he had been conversing with, and he, in turn, stared at the boy. “Was he captured by your unit?” the captain asked him.

“Raymond reported a boy captured,” said the man. “Of course, Raymond and I couldn’t talk long, because your unit was advancing on us, but he said the captain and he had found him, and that he was at the cave. That was all he told me, because Jason began to realize his cloak was missing and I had to leave.”

“Then the cloak was two followers,” said the captain. “It is too dark to claim capturing right to their prisoner. However, since he is the prisoner of the cloak, he must be locked up with the others.”

However, you can’t auction him off with the others, because he is the prisoner of the cloak and you have already stated that the cloak was public domain.”

The captain nodded. “Alright,” he said.

The other man looked at the man that had brought the boy in. He grinned. “Already the cloak is beginning its army!” Then he winked at the boy, as the boy was led back to the left room. “See you later fellow army!” he said. The boy heard him turn back to the captain and say, “I will participate to claim the cloak. No law forbids it.”

“I can’t stop you,” said the Captain, “But you will have nothing to pay for it with.”

“I’ll find some way!” the man promised strongly.

The boy and the prisoners were led out for the auction. He was formally released from the position of prisoner by the admiral. The other were auctioned. The admiral would begin to action one of them by beckoning them to stand on the table in the middle of the room. Then he would relate some of the deeds they had done, and how they had captured. “Any bids?” he would ask.

The captains would be lined up in front of the table and their men behind them. They called out names and the person named would have to stand in front of the captain who called it. Some would call out two or three norms for one slave. The capturing captain would accept the bid he believed was the better deal.

After the auction the trading began. One of the captains would climb on the table and say that he was willing to trade a certain man. The man would climb up beside him. As with the auctioning, each captain who wanted that man would call one or mind men up to be his trade and the captain could choose one of them or withdraw his offer.

During the auctioning, the man who was to be the boy’s partner in the unit came over to him. “Hello,” he said, “You are the boy who will be in the unit?”

The boy nodded.

“I’m Isaac. I hope to be your captain, but I’ can’t be sure because I am told. I will be unable to officially join the competition. If you will help me, I might be able to take it from the winner.”

“How can I help?”

Isaac drew him into one of the chairs lined up against the wall, and then sat down on one beside it. “Alright, listen carefully. The captain who now has the cloak – Jayms – will not give it up willingly. He’s going to fight for it too, but it is improper for a captain to keep a captured cloak without allowing others to fight for it. Right now, he has it hidden, but he’ll go back and check on it, just to make certain its secure. He won’t suspect you. Will you wait outside and follow him to it? Don’t get it but report to me where it is. If you get caught, tell him you aren’t used to being in a noisy cave unable to breathe and you wanted to go for a walk.”

“Alright,” agreed the boy.

“Good kid!” Isaac smiled broadly and patted him on the back. “We’ll show them that our cloak is strong enough to create an army!”

Captain Jayms was still busy, so the boy wasn’t disturbed yet as to how he was going to follow without getting caught. He stood outside listening to the sounds within the cave. Except the auction and the noise, it caused, the cave was silent. No one except the admiral and the captains spoke. When the boy looked in, he could see that everyone else stood silently looking at nothing. They did not even bother to sit down. Despite the apparent life inside the cave, it was still as dead, if not more so, as it had been when the boy sat alone in it.

The captain came out alone shortly after the boy had climbed a tree to avoid being caught. The captain didn’t look for anyone who might be around because he had taken an inventory earlier, and no one had left the cave except the new boy, who certainly proved no threat.

The boy climbed from the tree and followed the captain by sound alone. He was afraid to get too close for fear of getting caught, and could not follow the captain’s progress by sight because of the darkness. Finally, the boy heard him stop and he slowly crept closer. Under a bush, wrapped in some type of material, the captain had kept the cloak. Now satisfied that it was still safe, the captain again put it under the bush. “Guard it carefully,” he whispered to someone. “I’ll come and get it soon.”

“It’ll be safe,” answered another voice, also whispering. “Have you made sure…”

“It’s arranged. Everyone knows I have it anyway, and can claim it as my own in any case, so they won’t put up much of a fight. When I tell them it’s stolen, they’ll know I’ve got it, but won’t say anything. I’ll tell them that the man who finds it can have it. The admiral might make a remark when you walk in, but don’t worry. Then, of course, I’ll steal it from you.”

“Alright,” said the other. “It’ll work out well.”

“It will,” agreed the captain. “Good-by.”

The captain left and the boy counted to five hundred before he slowly began to go back to the cave. He tried to be careful so that the guard would not hear him and thought he was successful.

Isaac met him outside the cave. “Did you follow him,” he asked anxiously.

“Yes,” the boy assured him. “However, we’ve got a problem. There’s a man guarding it.”

Isaac bit his lip. “We can’t call him prisoner at night either,” he said, and fell silent. Then he spoke, “I’ll get the man, mark him, and leave him in a cave where I can claim him tomorrow. You get the cloak as I do it, and run with it. If you must, put it on and return to the cave. I’m not sure captain Jayms would only leave one guard. Of course, he’s suspicious, but I’m sure there are two men in his unit he could trust. Oh, well, let’s go.”

The boy and Isaac walked carefully, but the guard heard them nonetheless. “Who’s there?” he called out softly.

“Grab the cloak,” hissed Isaac to the boy.

He lunged for the cloak and the man lunged for him. Isaac grabbed the guard and threw him to the right. As he did so, the guard grabbed his leg and the two fell into a struggling heap. The boy got the cloak and ran. Shortly thereafter, Isaac broke away and also ran.

Ten minutes after the captain returned a silence fell in the cave and all alert heads turned towards the boy and Isaac, the latter draped in the cloak.

“I’m afraid there will be no tournament,” Isaac said with a grin.

The vague emotions fled from the captain for a minute and he felt true, unfiltered anger. However, his system could not long bear this exertion and he calmed down.

“Fair is fair,” he said, “and you gained it fairly.”

“Kevin! Kevin!” The boy turned and for a minute he thought he saw his mother looking at him, but the vision did not last long. “He’s asleep,” her voice said. The boy felt torn into two separate pieces unrelated to each other.

“He’s not asleep,” said his father’s voice. It sounded sad and defeated. “Leave him alone. Tomorrow we’ll take him to the doctor’s. I’ll ask for an appointment. I tried to reach him, but he closes up like a clam. Yet…” His father paused in an almost grasping manner. “Yet it seemed that he didn’t want to close up to me. He seemed willing to take my hand, but unable to give his own.”

“You’re talking nonsense,” said his mother, covering up her son. Later, she’d change his clothes.

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, and then opened them again and walked back to Isaac. “I can’t stay with you and your cloak,” he said. “I might be back; I’m not sure.”

“Where’ you going?” asked Isaac.

“Home,” answered the boy.

“You have the secret?” Isaac whispered his voice alive with excitement.

The boy shook his head. “No, I never denied the path, and I know I must return home now. I hope I can return here again.”

“People will be angry because you told them you’d denied the path. They’ll hate you because of jealousy.”

“Don’t tell them,” pleased the boy.

“How can I help it?”

“I asked you a similar question,” the boy reminded him, and I helped you. Please Isaac. I just feel I haven’t learned all this forest has to teach me or what I must find out about it. Do you understand? I don’t know what it is, but I haven’t learned what I must about it. Please let me return without them knowing!”

Isaac smiled. “Alright,” he said. “Return quickly, though, for without you this cloak has no army.” He grinned and winked at the boy. Then became less light in his manner. “Don’t judge those of us here harshly, my friend. Watch them, listen to them, and understand them. They have something to show you, tell you, and to communicate to the heart. Ask them sometime.”

The boy ignored his persistent feeling of urgency for a minute and asked Isaac a question long troubling him. It was an important question. “How did you escape it, Isaac?”

Isaac smiled somewhat sadly. “I just watched them before I became a part of them and I brought a weapon against the boredom and the terrible lack of purpose in life.”

“A weapon! What?”

“I learned how to laugh. When I saw the absurdity of this life, I learned how to laugh a it., instead of cringing with fear.” He reached out his hand to the boy. “Good-by,” he said. “Don’t forget to laugh; it works better than tears.”

The boy squeezed his friend’s hand. “Good-by,” he said, for both knew that the boy now knew what the Creator’s forest had to say to him.

7.   Chapter Seven   p. 131

“Hurry up, you’ll be late for school!” his sister Stephanie called.

Kevin stood in front of his favorite painting. It was of a woman holding a child in her arms as she stood in front of their cabin. All around, as though dangerous lurking enemies, the trees stood. The artist had caught the dark shadows of the trees, and the woman was trying to protect her clinging child from the threatening forest. Sometimes it reminded Kevin of the Dark Forest and he wished he had been secure in those arms when the forest had threatened him. Every day the forest had something else coming out of it, attacking the baby and his mother. Each time, the mother kept him safe. It felt so good cuddled safely in her arms, knowing he didn’t have to fight but was well-protected.

“Hurry up, Kevin! You’ll be late!’ Stephie shouted.

Reluctantly Kevin tore himself away from the painting and went down the stairs. “Eat your breakfast,” Aimie said to him gently.

“He was staring at that silly painting again,” Stephanie said.

Kevin said nothing.

“Would you two like a ride to school?” asked Keith.

Stephanie assented loudly. “Yes!”

“Who wants the front seat?” Keith asked

“I do!” Stephanie shouted.

“Do you want it, Kevin?”

“No., he said.

Kevin didn’t want to go to school. He had not wanted to leave the security of the woman’s arms. The school was bad. Something awaited him there and he was frightened. She wouldn’t be there to protect him! He couldn’t crawl safely into her arms. Something would hurt him! He had left the safety and security behind. Kevin was afraid.

He began rocking back and forth, in a mechanical rhythm but gradually it became wilder. “No,” he said softly. “no! No! No! No! No! No!” He flung his arms back and forth, hitting the cushions and the seats, kicking his feet against anything they could hit.

Keith stopped the car and scrambled into the back seat with him. “Stay there, Stephie,” he murmured to her as he grabbed his son’s arms and legs. Kevin still tried to hit his head against the car, but it hit only the cushion and was doing him no harm. Gradually Kevin relaxed and lay silent on his father’s lap. Keith began massaging the boy’s forehead gently. “Does that feel good?” he asked his son.

Kevin nodded. It felt as though he was in the woman’s arms again. He was safe and secure.

Again, they were silent for a time. Finally, Keith asked, “Why’d you do it, Kevin?” He did not look at his son, and, thus, force the boy to answer.

Kevin made no reply.

“Did it hurt?” asked Keith. The woman did not ask questions.

Again, the boy did not answer.

“Can I try it?”

This jolted Kevin. His eyes quickly riveted to his father’s face and looked at him silently.

Keith sat down on the seat and proceeded to fling his arms and legs around, beating his head against the cushion. Then relaxed suddenly. Kevin laughed.

“That wasn’t funny!” exclaimed Keith.

Kevin stopped laughing and crawled into his father’s lap again. He tried to feel the safe security he could feel in the woman’s arms. His father would save him from that threatening forest, too. Kevin sighed. He was safe again.

Keith let him lay there for ten minutes, until his daughter interrupted him impatiently. “Daddy, we’ve got to get to school!”

“Kevin, I’ve got to drive the car,” Keith said.

The boy didn’t answer.

“Would you like to sit up in the front seat with me?

Still there was no reply.

Keith moved the boy off him gently. “I’ve got to drive, Kevin,” he explained.

The boy did not speak again the rest of the way to school. When it came time to get from the car, he climbed out silently, making no protest.

While still sitting securely on his father’s lap, he has gone to Shan’s World.

The boy jumped with surprise when Shan leaped down beside him. Then, he burst out laughing. “Someday, Shan, I am going to catch that huge tail of yours wagging before you scare the life out of me!”

“Never,” replied Shan.

“I’ll bet you!” returned the boy, and assumed a forceful manner. “And I’ll win that bet, too!” He laughed.

“You are happy today, Shan Commented.

“Am I? That’s because I have made a decision.”

“What did you decide?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, will you take me to the creator’s forest?”

“Again? Aren’t’ two trips enough.”

“I won’t take long this time,” the boy assured him. “I just have to talk to Isaac about something, and I’ve got to do it now.”

“Who is he?” The boy didn’t think that he only imagined the tightness and caution in Shan’s voice.

“A friend,” he replied. “Just a friend.”

“In the creator’s forest?” asked Shan. “I thought that was for people too far gone to be friends. It’s known as the Shan’s World rest home.”

“Most are,” the boy agreed, and then laughed. “Isaac is a nurse,” he said.

Shan took a deep breath. “Alright,” he said slowly. “I will let you go to the creator’s forest if you promise to return home immediately.”

“I promise,” said the boy, and Shand released his breath of air. At least, he reflected, that meant the boy wasn’t going to deny the path. Now.

Isaac was surprised to see the boy so soon. “I thought you weren’t going to return,” he said.

“Isaac, I’ve got to talk to you privately,” the boy replied. “It’s important.”

“I have to talk to you, too,” Isaac said, looking at the mouth of the cave and making certain no one as around. “And I think this ought to be told first. Raymond heard us, and he knows you have never truly denied the path. He has promised to lead a band of men against you. You’d better leave soon or now.”

“I’m going to deny the path, Isaac!” the boy exclaimed excitedly. “I mean truly. It’s fun playing these games and I’m alright as long as I remember they’re only games, aren’t I?

“Why?” asked Isaac. “Why deny it? Isn’t this better the way you’re doing it now?”

“I want to really become a part of Shan’s World, and I want to be a part of our army!” The boy’s eyes shown. “My father denied the path, he told me, and he said it isn’t as bad as it seems. He said he liked it. I will too. I’m going to be just like my father, because…”

Raymond came out of the cave and broke into their conversation. “What are you doing back here?” he barked angrily.

“I’ going to deny the path.”

The cynical look came on Raymond’s face. “I thought you already had,” he said sarcastically.

“No, but I’m going to now.” The boy was so elated by the events of this day, that even Raymond’s bitterness could not daunt him.

“Don’t!” Raymond said sharply.

“But…”

“No, listen to me. You can stay here forever if you want, I don’t care about that. However, you can stay just as easily if someone else took your place on your path, couldn’t you? And your parents would still have a son spiritually alive, and I will have a home again.”

“Don’t do it,” urged Isaac.

“Why not?” countered Raymond. “It won’t hurt the boy whatsoever, and it will help all the others involved. Why not?”

“Because we don’t know what will happen,” Isaac said.

“What could happen?” asked Raymond. “Nothing. Everyone gets exactly what they want. What harm can it do?”

“Do you really want to deny the path?” Isaac asked of the boy. “Are you absolutely certain? The slightest doubt my friend and you’d better disagree. You’ll ever be able to return this way.”

“Yes,” the boy said decisively. “I’m certain, with no doubts. I know some of the people here are dead in a way, but I’m not like them. I’ll have fun and laugh and, Isaac, you’ll get your army.”

Isaac didn’t even offer him a smile; his eyes were serious and his tone of voice matched them. “Do you have any objections to Raymond taking your path?”

“No,” said the boy.

“It’ll mean you are trapped forever within Shan’s World,” Isaac warned. “I don’t think it would even help if you knew the secret.”

“Isaac, I’m certain!” Impatience crept into his voice.

Isaac nodded then. “it’s your decision,” he said.

They decided that Raymond should wait beside the place that the path usually appeared and should run down the path before the boy dismounted from Shan. They all agreed upon the plan, though Isaac argued that they should talk to Shan first and was over-ruled. After this was decided the boy beckoned Shan and climbed on his back feeling highly elated.

“You’re going to deny the path, aren’t you?’ asked Shan. He flew slowly, wanting to talk.

“What makes you think that?” asked the boy u carefully.

“Oh, don’t underestimate me, my friend, Shan warned. “I know the symptoms – I should by now – and you did add a few clues.”

The boy’s heart was racing with excitement. Shan’s World was his forever! Such delight was almost unmanageable. “I am,” he said and he felt a quiver of happiness race quickly up his back.

“You shouldn’t,” said Shan simply.

“That’s alright,” said the boy, as if to assure him. I’m going to. I decided, and my father helped me. Why didn’t you tell me he’s been in Shan’s World?”

“Your father?” queried Shan. “He’s never been here.”

“But he…”

“I’m sorry,” said Shan. He’s never been here.

“Maybe you didn’t recognize him,” cried the boy hopefully. “He was only my age and you might not remember…”

“I’m sorry, my friend. Your father has never been here.”

The boy felt flooded with emptiness and betrayal. “I’m sure…” he cried in one last attempt to save the feeling his father had given him, and not to lose more than it gave.

“No,” said Shan.

The boy felt hot tears upon his cheeks. “Then I’m glad!” he said. I’m glad I’m going to stay forever and he’ll never see me again.” And then he remembered Raymond. That hurt terribly for the boy knew that his parents would be happier with Raymond. Raymond would be the son they had wanted; the son Kevin couldn’t be. Knowing someone else was going to fill the place he had so long wanted to claim hurt as badly as knowing his father had betrayed him.

When they arrived, the path appeared and Raymond was already running down the path by the time the boy had dismounted. All the people of the creator’s forest stood and watched one of them running back to the life they longed for, but none followed because the actual action was so different than thinking about it.

“No!” shouted Shan when he saw what had happened. “Raymond, you fool! Come back! Raymond!” But Raymond had no intention of returning and Shan’s eyes filled with anguish. “Oh, no,” he murmured.

The boy became frightened. “Shan, what does it mean? What’s going to happen? I’m scared.”

Shan wouldn’t look at him. “What’s going to happen?” he repeated, mumbling. Compassion filled him when he did look down at the boy.

The eyes of the people followed Shan’s to the boy and a silence felt like a dark cloud of fear hanging above their heads.

Raymond looked through Kevin’s eyes. He delighted at the hum of the car and the sight of passing cars. The cushion of the seat felt so much better than the ground in Shan’s World and the two heads of the people in front were a wonderful sight to his lonely eyes. How different this world was from Shan’s World?

Shan’s World. He felt joy at being so far from it and being home again. Perhaps it wasn’t exactly his home or his parents, but when in another world, the definition of “home” enlarged to mean anything and any part of this world. He could easily adjust to them, and they would love their new son so much. At first, he thought, they would think that he was acting strangely, but afterwards they would love him more than they had their previous son.

Raymond flexed his fingers. He bit them and rejoiced at the pain. Again, he bit them and looked at the teeth mark. Never had he believed pain so wonderful.

“Kevin, what are you doing?” asked Kevin’s mother.

“Nothing,” answered Raymond. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” she said. “Unless you’d like to top for an ice cream cone.”

An ice cream cone. The thought made Raymond quiver with excitement. Food had been unnecessary for so long, and to need it seemed like a wonderful thing. The very thought of savoring the sweet taste of an ice cream cone was enough to send his heart racing. To feel hunger pains, thought Raymond, would be a wonderful thing, and to have that hunger satisfied would be heaven to him. “An ice cream cone,” he said, realizing that this was the first time he had actually spoken so it could be heard by anyone in years he had not bothered to count. “Can we stop for one?” he asked. “I’d love one!” Even his voice quivered with the excitement he felt at being alive again.

“Well, that is some response!” laughed the lady.

“What made you so happy suddenly?” asked the boy’s father, looking through the rear-view mirror.

“Living!” answered Raymond with a laugh, though inside he was totally serious. These people had never been dead, so they couldn’t understand living, he thought.

His father smiled. “There is a special magic to living,” he admitted.

“It’s the only way to be!” agreed Raymond. He did not worry about having to act like the boy. These people couldn’t know that a different person could occupy someone’s body, and without this knowledge Raymond was Kevin. If he acted strangely, well, it was Kevin acting strangely and there was no need to worry. Raymond felt happy and secure.

Aimie asked again,” What made you so happy suddenly? Did something good happen in school today?”

Raymond laughed. “I don’t even remember going to school this morning. It’s another time, it seems. I was just sitting here watching the cars go by and it struck me that life was perfect!”

“Sometimes it can be close to perfect,” his father agreed. “I think I feel that it is perfect right now or at least close to it.”

School, thought Raymond. That would be a wonderful thing to return to. Imagine talking to people that weren’t just another segment of yourself. Raymond suppressed the urge to stand up and run a mile.

“Very close to it,” Aimie said. She smiled at her husband.

“Shan, what will happen to me?” the boy cried.

Shan’s voice was brisk. “You get what you wanted,” he said. “You’re staying here until Raymond can’t take reality any longer, your body rejects his behavioral patterns, or he must answer my summons.”

Silence reigned upon its throne, until Shan finally broke it. “This world was made to help you,” he said. His eyes traveled down the path. “It was created to solve conflict and fears within you, not for this. The creator made it for people who would understand that it must be temporary, certainly not for selfish beings that deny the path and deny Shan’s World. I warned you all. I tried to make you understand that it would only bring out the faults in Shan’s World to deny the path. Shan’s World is a temporary security and when on this basis it is a wonderful thing, but to spend forever in a mass of colors cannot be done! You cannot fight anything here, and you are finding it necessary to fight something. You were here in the first place because there was something you were afraid to fight and Shan’s World introduced you to a positive way to battle. You fought things out here, in a gentle beautiful way, but you cannot fight here if you have nothing to fight. At your homes you found what you had to fight and you battled, but here there is nothing.”

Silence again climbed upon the throne.

People hung their heads, because their thoughts made them ashamed of themselves. They ached to be where Raymond was, to touch again a fork and a spoon, and to feel flesh arms holding them. They would not look at the boy, because he ruined their dreams with his tear stained face. He would have to suffer if they were where Raymond was but, in spite of themselves, they could not make them really care. The boy would suffer and they were sorry, but they did want to go home again.

Shan watched them carefully, feeling sick. Their thoughts hung in the longing in their eyes. “Do you know what will happen now? When a path is denied the path closes forever unless opened by the creator through the understanding of Shan’s World. Until it is denied the person must go to his body once in awhile to retain his self. Now the boy cannot go back. Within a certain amount of time – which I do not know – he will be lost. He won’t be in Shan’s World or home. Just nowhere.”

The boy let out a wail. He could feel himself being only a tiny leaf blowing away in the wind. Going up, up, until he disappears in the sky above. Below him lies the tree from which he began and it doesn’t even miss him. It bows to the wind and grows up towards where he awaits it, but can never reach him. Then the tree is broken by the wind, rain, and lightning, and falls as far from the solitary tree as possible. Up beyond reach, beyond understand, beyond love and life the leaf sails on, carried by the wind.

“Don’t cry like a fool, boy,” Shan said, angry at the boy, Raymond, the bunch gathered before him, and himself for letting it happen. “The time limit could be two million years away. By then you’ll plea for it. Raymond probably will be unable to take the pressure anyway. He can walk down the path without the secret, but he can’t survive there without it. He’ll be back. Don’t worry about that.”

Shan’s colors grew darker and became more luminous at once. They flashed angrily and the people had to shade their eyes to look at him. “Everybody here are fools!” Shan said. You were given a gift and you destroyed it. Yes, Shan’s World was created for you, to give you something that nothing in your world with all your doctors could give you, but it wasn’t created to be yours. It was made for grateful people who needed it, but for those who are so selfish they’ll destroy their gift because they think it isn’t good enough the way it was offered to them. You’re all alike. Raymond is just another one of you, and it could have been anyone one of you who rushed down the boy’s path. You are selfish and can’t jump small hurdles. The secret is seen every day by each of you, you have learned to live it, in a sense, but you can’t even discover it. A tiny hurdle!”

The people hung their heads in rightful shame, and there was silence except the boy’s soft sobbing.

Keith and his wife were a little bewildered and very happy with Kevin’s behavior that night. He chattered constantly at the table, which made his sister make a remark silenced by both parents. He said how much he loved riding in the car and how beautiful his bedroom looked to him. He ran fingers along the smooth table top, and ate his food as if he cherished very bite.

The biggest surprise of all came when, before going to bed, he put his arms around his mother’s neck and hissed her good-night and then did the same to his father. “I love you and I love this house and I love the world!” he said with a wide smile. “Have you ever felt that everything was as perfect as it could be? Nothing can equal this moment right now!”

Keith heartily agreed. Later, he said to his wife, “I don’t understand Kevin, but tonight listening to him, watching him, I felt for the first time in his life that I knew him. I felt such pride, because I knew he was my son, and I loved him.”

His wife smiled happily and they too eachother’s hands. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quit so good,” she said. “I have a perfect husband, and a perfect son, and a perfect daughter, and a perfect house and a perfect family. I love you!” The two were in eachother’s arms immediately.

Raymond, though, laid up in his room feeling haunted by the ghosts of times not long past, and he began to fear, possibly, the future. Before his eyes flashed scenes from Shan’s World and he thought he could hear Shan’s voice speaking. It was tortuous for him to lay there. He was leading a dimorphic existence at the same time. As he laid on Kevin’s bed, he became confused as to which world he was in and which was reality.

He stood up and went downstairs where Kevin’s mother and father were talking. “Kevin, what’s wrong?” asked his mother.

“I can’t sleep,” said Raymond.

“Would you like to stay up awhile with us and talk? asked Keith, hardly daring to consciously hope but hoping fervently.

“May I?” asked Raymond. “I’d like that very much.”

Keith and his wife stared at each other with surprise. This was their son? It felt so good.”

The boy longed for his home. His heart ached every beat with his desire for it. Usually leaving Shan’s World was acceptable only because he knew he would be back and even then, there was some reluctance but now he longed to leave this land of beauty. Somehow, knowing someone else was taking his place, and had something that belonged to him spurred him. He still wanted to stay in Shan’s World but he wanted no other to remain down the path where he belonged. The boy was aware that it would be some time now before he could actually make the denial and still feel secure. The near loss of his home and family had frightened him.

“I want to go home, Shan,” he whined.

Shan laughed humorlessly. “There’s nothing I’d like better for you,” he said, then frowned and looked away. When he looked back at the boy, it was more sympathetically. “I’m sorry, my boy. I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t help you at all. I wish I could, but I’m totally helpless and that’s like a knife stabbing me. What could I have done to stop it from happening? How can I help keep it from happening again to someone else? What can I do to help it now?” He looked angrily at the cluster of people from the Creator’s forest. “Nothing,” he said tightly. “I can do absolutely nothing.”

Even while talking to Kevin’s parents, Raymond was unable to rid himself of the ghosts plaguing him. The sight of Keith and his wife would disappear and be replaced by Shan’s World. Raymond knew what would happen next, and felt sick at heart. Again, he hugged the parents that were his for so short a time. “Bye,” he said. “It’s been fun, and I loved every minute of it.”

“You’re only going to bed” laughed Keith.

“I know,” said Raymond, “and my bed awaits me anxiously.”

He knew that when he got to Shan’s World, he would find that his own path awaited him because he had found the secret.

“Look! Here he comes!” someone shouted.

The moment Raymond was off the path the boy was on it, running forward. He heard the comments and greetings of the others behind him to Raymond, but his directly was forward and he concentrated totally on that. Home, oh home, thought the boy. Home. Home.

He climbed from his bed and went into his parents’ room. They weren’t there! He felt sudden fear until he heard their voices downstairs. Slow he climbed down and looked into the living room.

“Now, what do you want?” asked Keith, not angrily but with amused patience.

“Nothing,” said the boy, shaking his head, and he went shyly up the stairs. Gradually, he drifted off to sleep.

8.   Chapter Eight p .148

“Long ago we were going somewhere, Shan, and we were not able to go because I jumped off your back…”

“And a very foolish thing to do, too,” Shan inserted.

The boy ignored his remark. “I would like to go now.”

“Why?” asked Shan.

“What?”

“Why should I take you to the City?”

The boy cocked his head for a minute. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, carefully. “Why have you done all the other things for me.”

Shan laughed. “You sound alert and suspicious,” he commented. “I’ve done them because you wished for it.”

“But…” he faltered for words and to find exactly what that was not a good reason. “But you didn’t have to do it. You didn’t have to care about what I wanted. Why did you care? Why did you do it?”

“I am but a servant, my good friend. I am a servant of all in Shan’s World. I am the servant to the creator, and you, and all of his creations. A good servant obeys the wants of his masters.”

“But…”

“That is the only answer there is. It is the only answer I can give you.”

“is there an answer you can’t give me?”

“No,” said Shan. “I’ve given you the only answer I know. Would you like Poggii to come with us?”

The boy quickly agreed to that. Poggii bewildered him and sometimes annoyed him, but on the whole, he liked the little creature.

As they flew toward Poggii, the boy said, “Shan, I want you to know. I’ve decided to deny the path. Please understand me.”

“Still?” Shan asked, irritated. “I thought Raymond and that stupid trick of his would teach you how good it was to live in two different worlds.”

“My father was laughing when I came home. He and my mother were happy and he said something happily to me,” the boy said. “But I couldn’t tease right back. I couldn’t be what he had liked form Raymond. Rather than keep hurting them…”

“You think it will help them feel better to find they hardly have a son?”

“It would be over for them, then. No more struggles to communicate with me when I’m so afraid to return the communications. If I don’t like Shan’s World after the denial, Shan, I’ll find the secret and return.” His voice was tight and serious.

“Finding the secret is not like digging for buries treasure, my friend. It means digging into yourself and, that, essentially, is what you are running from when you run to Shan’s World, forever. Can you bear to say good-by to your parents forever? Do you know how long forever is? It doesn’t end. It stretches on and on and you can’t get anywhere. Shan’s World doesn’t allow movement because movement causes change. Can you understand forever?”

Shan abandoned the pursuit knowing that no foreigner could every grasp the meaning of “forever” or “never.” Infinity had no meaning to the boy because in the world from which he came, everything had an end.

He sighed. “We’re beginning to land, now. We can finish this conversation later.”

Shan landed in a small clearly and waiting there was Poggii. The boy slid off, and Poggii watched with cautious eyes. “I’m sorry about that Foolish Wish, Shan,” he said watching Shan’s face carefully. “I must be rather foolish.”

“You are that,” agreed Shan. “You certainly must be to keep making those silly Foolish Wishes. You ought to learn to be happy with what you have. However, I have not summoned you here to punish you. I’ll do that later. For now, a mutual friend wants you to join him at Shan’s City. He’s never seen it and since you haven’t either, I thought, perhaps, you’d like to join us.”

“The City?” cried Poggii. “Do you mean Shan’s city?” He was truly excited. “THE city? Me? Oh, how I have wished to see that!”

“I know,” said Shan grimly. “Many times, you have wished and many times you have been punished for it. Now you must find something else to wish for, because you’ll have already had that wish come true.” He sighed deeply. “Probably you will wish that you could see it again after you have seen it once. That would be a foolish thing indeed to do, because I might send you to the dark lands for that. However, you are a foolish creature, so I might expect some action from you.”

“I have done nothing yet!” exclaimed Poggii.

“The Dark Lands?” puzzled the boy. “Don’t you mean the dark forest?”

“No,” said Shan. “I can send people through the curtain to the Dark Lands, which are totally opposite of the forest in Shan’s World. The dark forest compares with the dark land as water compares with poison.”

“I would like to see the Dark Lands someday,” the boy said innocently.

“Foolish Wish!” cried Poggii. “He just made a foolish wish!” the dwarf-like creature jumped up and down pointing a finger at the boy accusingly. “Punish him for the foolish wish!” he cried to Shan. Punish him! Punish him, Shan!”

“Some friend you are,” said the boy. “Besides, I made no Wish.”

“I was never created for a friend,” Poggii replied. He looked slyly at Shan. “Shan is the friend and I am just an acquaintance. I was not created to be completely friend or even an enemy. I was created as the selfish one and he was created as the giving one Besides, you did make a foolish wish! You expressed the desire to do something you aren’t supposed to do. That is a Foolish Wish.”

“You were indeed created as the Selfish One,” laughed Shan. “But you are also the Foolish one. Whatever suits you best all the time is what you will do, right? Well, hop upon my back, selfish one, and you, too, my friend. Off and away to the city we are. The City, the City, the City so far.”

“Where merry lights dance forever,” changed the boy, laughing at their silliness. “And sadness is never!”

Even Poggii joined in. “Where in a twinkling we’ll all go to see the city’s eternal glow!” he chimed, jumping upon the scales of Shan’s back.

“Colors never before seen, in Shan’s World they glean!” added the boy.

“We fly over Shan’s World so bright,” called Shan. “Where there are beams of sunshine instead of night.”

“look down at the colors flashing below, making a wonderful and beautiful show,” Poggii yelled.

“and your heart skips a beat for the happiness it meets. Your eyes become aglow for the joyousness they know. Your ears with joy ring, of beautiful happiness your heart sings. Everyone becomes to gay, in Shan’s World, the land of the day,” the boy sang, his manner almost melancholic.

A silence came over them like a blanket dampening their spirits as they watched the colors whirl below them like a city at night. Over and over the boy kept thinking, “In Shan’s World, happiness is forever.” Shan warned that he would be in Shan’s World forever, but if happiness lasted that long, then it would be wonderful. In a world with every lasting beauty and songs, there would never bee sadness.

The boy sighed gently. This world was so consistently wonderful.

Shan, sensing his thoughts, said, “You’ve never heard the saying, have you, my friend, that you need work as well as play, sadness as well as happiness, tears as well as laughter? You need the work so that you can enjoy the relaxation of play; sadness to know when you are happy and to reach within yourself, because sadness is alone; tears to differentiate between happiness and sorrow and so that you can distinguish between tragedy and comedy. Without one to compare the other, neither can be. Do you understand?

“I do have something to compare it with,” said the boy. “And here I can honestly be men and I’ll do those things here and still be happy. At home, I’m only Kevin, but here I am me. That’s why I must stay – not only to avoid the misery of being Kevin but for the enjoyment of being me.”

“You can’t lose Kevin,” Shan said. “Kevin is a part of you and if you lose him, you lose part of yourself. There is also another part of yourself you’ll lose here, my friend. You wouldn’t know yourself if you didn’t know what you aren’t and you find out about yourself by facing and conquering obstacles. Here there are no obstacles and you become like butter. You return to the state of infancy and must discover yourself all over again or lose it entirely.

“and the beauty of Shan’s World,” said the boy, ignoring him. “Our world doesn’t have such wonder or beauty in it. There is not the peace and wonderful emotions of my world. That’s another reason why I must deny the path.

“Beauty wears off. If you have no ugliness to compare it with, it becomes drab and boring. To those in the Dark Lands, on the other hand, the Dull Forest is beautiful. Don’t you understand that yet? It is all relative and you must compare to find beauty and ugliness. If you live in total happiness you don’t know what happiness is. Poggii is an example of that. He wishes for things he cannot have and doesn’t need. Why is he unhappy when surrounded with such happiness? If you deny the path, someday the question will be asked of you.”

“But I will have something to compare it with,” the boy insisted. “So it can’t happen to me.”

“My friend, you won’t remember your world for an infinity, and even if you remember it part of that time, you’ll lose the reality and belief in it. Infinity is a long time, my friend, it never ends. It stretches for millions and millions of years and that is how long you would remain in Shan’s World. An infinity, my boy. You don’t even know what it is.”

“Let’s drop the subject,” whined Poggii, in a bored, tired voice. His ears had pricked up only once during the conversation and that was when Shan had mentioned his name. When he found that it actually had little to do with him, he slumped back again and released a loud yawn that was ignored.

“The city is nearing,” agreed Shan, “and let’s be happy in the city. However, sometime, my friend, we are going to have to resume this conversation.”

“Wait until I’m far away,” pleaded Poggii. “It’s such a bore to hear all this talk about happiness and all.”

“That’s because you don’t even know what it is,” the boy said disgustedly.

“Because,” Shan cried triumphantly, “he has never experienced anything else. You, my friend, just said words to that effect.”

“I did not!” credit the boy. “You misunderstood me. I said…”

“Later!” shouted Poggii. “Understand him later! Let’s have fun now.”

Shan coasted down among the bright buildings that flashed so brilliantly that they could be seen for miles from any direction. On and off the colors flashed, bright enough so that the boy was almost afraid he and the others would be overwhelmed by them. There was one thin-, ribbon-like street connected all the buildings. It looked crowded from above, for there seemed to be many people walking on it. However, when actually on the street there was no trouble with crowding at all. The boy was fascinated by the different types of people and the new colors that were among them and the city. People stopped and looked at Shan, but the boy was surprised that they didn’t behave the way he was used to people acting. They did not crowd Shan or make him uncomfortable. Instead, they parted, allowing him to pass before them, and they smiled, but showed no other sign that they knew he was the Shan of Shan’s World.

“Pick out anything in this entire city that you want,” whispered Shan to the boy, “and I will let you have it.”

“Anything?” asked the boy.

“Anything,” replied Shan.
I will leave you and Poggii to discover the city without my help. When you have found that which you want above al else, call to me and I shall come.”

He and Poggii searched through everything. Every building in the city they toured, fascinated by the unusual and unique things they saw, and the unparalleled extraneousness of each. No cheap commercial merchandise could be found in these shops. Instead there were rugs that looked like they were from some wonderful land of magic and made the boy feel that they were flying carpets, willing to take him in any fantasy land his heart desired. There were balls that bounced too high to be seen and came down in a whirl of colors like a pinwheel landing right in the catcher’s arms. There were animals of every type and more wonderful exotic creatures that captured the boy’s heart with some power beyond his sense. Among the wares the stores were offering for sale was jewelry that would enhance the wearer in any way that he desired. Swords and knives were for sale that had rubles implanted in them, which made it seem like a flash of lighting was falling upon the opponent when it was waved. The boy stared with wonder at the watches with coo-coo birds and the rocking horse that would gallop down a field of grass no matter where he was when he mounted it. It was the latter that especially intrigued him. “How does it work?” he asked.

“Ah,” replied the man to whom the question had been directed. “That is a well-guarded secret. Why should you want to know how a kaleidoscope worked with explaining would only destroy its magic? All I will say is that every time you mount this horse you will know only beauty.

“I should get this!” exclaimed the boy to Poggii. “It is the best thing I have seen.”

The other shook his head. “Were I to want to get a rocking horse,” he said, “I would get one which had the wings to take me to a million places. I should get the one which will place me on a planet or in a world like Shan’s World. I should get one that allows my dreams to be seen flying through the space on my rocking horse.”

“Are there such ones?” cried the boy. “Can a rocking horse really do that?”

“You are in Shan’s World,” Poggii reminded him. “Here things are a way of life that you would term impossible in your world. That includes rocking horses of dreams.”

The boy looked up at the merchant. “I should like a rocking horse with wings to take me to a million places in a million worlds.”

The merchant motioned to a beautiful horse in a corner. Its big brown eyes seemed rather sad, but it had the wings of Pegasus and it was such a color that the boy could not resist. “I want that horse!” he exclaimed with conviction. “Shan, I have chosen!” Perhaps he only imagined it, but he felt certain that he saw the brown eyes of the horse light up and even shine. The boy put out a hand and stroked the soft neck of his horse. “Together we shall ride, Pegasus,” he whispered, then he said aloud, “Shan, I have chosen.”

“So, you have, my boy,” said a familiar voice suddenly beside the boy. “It is a wise choice, but how out of all the things Shan’s City has to offer did you choose a rocking horse?”

The boy looked down embarrassed and then looked up once more. “I liked his eyes,” he said in a small voice. “Shan, is he really mine? Will he always be mine – even at home?”

“He is yours,” said Shan. He is yours in every way. It looks to me as though he had you in mind from the day that he was manufactured.”

“Manufactured?” cried the boy, incredulous.

Shan laughed. “Only a figure of speech in Shan’s World,” he assured the boy. “Each thing here was created with love and pride.”

Poggii had listened to them long enough. “What do I get as my gift for coming with you?” he asked.

Again, Shan laughed. “You, my good foolish friend, get a fine reward indeed. I shall give you the magnificent gift of immunity to punishment for your last foolish wish.”

Poggii’s face fell considerably. “I did not ask to come,” he reminded Shan. “I came as a favor for you, and you will give me no reward for being so good?”

“the selfish one doing a favor for someone?” exclaimed Shan. “For shame!”

“I even changed my character for you,” Poggii said, grabbing at the opening. “And you are not even grateful.”

“Oh, I’m grateful,” Shan contradicted. “I’m so grateful that I’ve allowed you to see Shan’s City and I’ve also allowed you one foolish wish without punishment. Not many are rewarded for following an order.”

“Following an order!” exclaimed the little creature. “I wish you weren’t Shan! Then I would tell you that you are rude, supercilious, ungrateful and hateful!”

“But I am Shan, dear friend, and you have just made your second foolish wish, which has saved me the terrible bother of transporting you home,” Shan remarked as superciliously as he was capable.

“Oh, Shan!” cried Poggii. “A reward of no punishment! Please, please, just this once! I will make no more wishes. I promise you. I only ask once, Shan. Please? Please?”

“It is not easy transporting small, fat dwarfs on my back,” Shan commented. “And I man now thinking that I won’t enjoy it.”

“I promise that I will make no more foolish wishes,” begged the poor creature.

“Goodbye Poggii,” said Shan, untouched and Poggii disappeared. ‘” That was unnecessarily cruel, the boy remarked. “You are too hard on him.” He paused and then asked, “Can you transport everyone that quickly?”

Shan replied, “Certainly. All you have to do is make a foolish wish.”

The boy considered it but a moment. Then he said calmly, “I wish I could stay in Shan’s World forever.” He knew well that Shan’s reaction would be unfavorable and had honestly said it partly for that reason.

Shan glowered. “That was a very foolish wish,” he said. “You could do no worse and you shall be sent far away for that.”

Before he was whisked away by Shan’s powers, the boy said, “That is because you don’t appreciate the beauty of your own land or the happiness in it. You have nothing to compare it with and think I don’t either.”

Shan stopped him long enough for him to reply. “I have, but I have also lived in this world a long time. I have much to compare it with, but the comparison has lost its reality.”

“It won’t for me!” proclaimed the boy.

“Kevin, wake up!” his sister said taking from him his covers.

“I’m awake,” he said. He felt happy and couldn’t figure out why. Oh, yes, Pegasus! Pegasus, his new rocking horse! I seemed strange to have a rocking horse at his age, but this was a special horse: this one was from Shan’s World!

“You have school today, Kevin!” she said when he asked her why he should get up. “Or have you forgotten? School is an institution of learning – though some people I know don’t use it for that! – designed to teach about certain designated areas of a man’s knowledge and give the average child a general view of…”

“Be quiet,” Kevin said quietly, some of his happiness fading. He hated that jeering tone and it always seemed so much louder than the natural speaking voice. It was like a boxing glove continuously punching him in the face.

“You can’t tell me to shuttup!” she said superciliously. “Father said that I was better than you because…”

“Be quiet!” Kevin insisted, raising his voice slightly above his usual soft tone.

“…Because I get good grades. My teachers always like me, and I have lots of friends. How good are your grades? How many teachers like you? How many friends have you?” She had been feeling neglected by her parents lately, realizing that most of their attention was on Kevin.

My grades aren’t good,” Kevin admitted. “and the teachers don’t like me, but I have lots of friends – more than you’ll ever have. My friends will fight for me and help me and care about me, whereas yours couldn’t care less about you; all they want is someone to say they’re friends with so they won’t be lonely and they can talk about themselves with you. My friends are true friends.”

Stephanie didn’t notice that Kevin was arguing back, as he had rarely done before. She was used to arguing and, thus, concentrated on a good retaliating statement. She laughed loudly, falsely, and cruelly, knowing that would hurt Kevin. “You’re loaded with friends, Kevin! So many I have trouble counting them all! Let’s see, there’s George and Frank and Johnny and Bob and…”

“Never mind,” said Kevin. He climbed out of his bed and began to get his school clothes from the dryer.

“Kevin…” It was his father’s voice and Kevin could hear him mounting the steps two at a time.

“Yes?” he asked.

Keith walked in the door of the room. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“For me?” cried Kevin.

Stephanie felt tears in her eyes. “What about me?” she asked, trying to keep the tears from showing.

Keith reached out and touched her on the shoulder. “You’ll get something too,” he promised, “and I won’t tell either of you what it will be.”

School, for Kevin that day was better than usual. He did listen to the conversation and even found himself interested in what was going on. Seeing this, Miss White hopefully called on him. She asked a simple question but was still uncertain of his ability to answer it. “Kevin, who built the first missions in California?”

“Missionaries,” Kevin replied and the class tittered. “Spaniards,” he said defiantly.

“Who was the most famous one?” she asked, more confident and hopeful.

“Father Sierra,” he answered, hesitating slightly.

She was thrilled and wrote a note home to his parent expressing her delight with his conduct that day: “Kevin showed remarkable attentiveness and alertness in class today. I was truly proud of him.”

Kevin was excited about the note. He couldn’t wait to show it to his parents. That would show his sister! However, he reflected, Stephanie would say, “That won’t stop you from getting an F on your report card.” If, though, he could do it evert day he might get an A. But Kevin knew he couldn’t do it every day. Maybe just tomorrow and the next day. At least he could get a C. That would be good enough,

Kevin hurried home and was so excited about the note he clutched in his hand that he forgot about the promised surprise from his father. “Look! Look!” he cried running into the house.

His mother, in the kitchen turned with surprise at her son’s excited voice. She was pleased to see happiness, and happy that he wanted to share it with her instead of relishing it alone in his room as he often did.

She read the note and beamed as much as he did. Perhaps he was coming out of that “phase” her husband insisted he was going through. She hugged Kevin. “That is wonderful!” she said. “I’m truly proud of you!”

He smiled at her shyly and took the note carefully. Tightly clinching it in his hands he brought it upstairs, and alone in his room he read it over and over. Happiness flowed through him. Underneath the words written by the teacher he imagined his mother’s words, her tone of voice, and her eyes shining so brightly and he glowed all over at the thought.

When his father returned home, Kevin showed him the note and Keith expressed his happiness and surprise thoroughly suggesting that he frame the letter and put it in Kevin’s room. Kevin beamed.

“Have you forgotten my surprise for you?” Keith asked after a few minutes.

The boy smiled. “What is it?

We have to wait for your sister, of course. Stephie wants hers too and we ought to give them to both of you at the same time.

“Please?” cried the boy.

Keith had to give in under that pressure. “alright,” he said. “I tried to find you the best gift in the whole world, but…”

“What did you buy?”

“Well, I couldn’t buy the best gift in the world, because I couldn’t afford that,” said Keith trying to draw out the suspense as long as possible.

“What did you buy? Cried Kevin.

“Somehow, though,” Keith said, “I believe you’ll like this almost as well, even though you are just a little bit older than most people with this special gift.”

“Tell me what it is!” insisted his son.

Keith laughed. “Alright you can bring it in now,” he called to his wife.

Aimie dragged in Pegasus. The horse’s eyes seemed as bright as they had in Shan’s World, though the colors lacked the brilliance and variety, the horse seem ed to suggest Shan’s World.

“Oh, I love him! I love him!” Kevin cried. “You brought me Pegasus! You brought Pegasus!”

The boy was in a fairytale when he sat on Pegasus and he and the horse were flying to a distant land to view the boy’s kingdom. He was having a delightful time for it looked just like a miniature Shan’s World and it was the boy’s kingdom. He exclaimed with surprise when he saw Shan, Poggii, and Isaac there too and was truly enjoying himself when his father picked him up to return him to his world.

“How do you like it?” his mother asked, her eyes shining at her son’s happiness.

“I love it!” he proclaimed. It is the most beautiful thing in the world! How’d you pick it out? Where did you find it?

“I picked it out because it looked just like you,” his father said. I just couldn’t help but buy it when I looked at those eyes of its. YI know you are a little hold for a rocking horse, I could resist it. It was sitting in an old antique shop staring at me and I was forced to buy it. There is a feeling about it that it was made just for you.” His father laughed. “I could have sworn its eyes lit up when we brought it in the room to you.”

“it was the reflection of Kevin’s eyes in the horse’s,” his wife claimed. “They both looked like lanterns in a dark night.”
“Two of a kind,” said Kevin.

“No, Kevin said slowly. “We were just made for eachother with one ingredient exactly alike. Manufacture at the same factory.”

“This horse, my young son, was certainly not manufactured,” his father laughed. “No one could do such a job with a machine. This rocking horse was built with hands overflowing with love.

“And that,” stated his mother, was the ingredient that must be alike in both of you. You were both made with love.”

9.   Chapter Nine   p. 167

After a wonderful day came a horrible night for Kevin. Stephanie, jealous because her new dress didn’t excite her the way Kevin’s rocking horse excited him, began an argument. The argument itself was trivial but she became more aggravated when he failed to respond and give her the satisfaction of revenge.

“Just for that, [m going to wreck your horse!” she proclaimed when he asked her to leave him alone.

“Don’t you touch that horse!” he cried, running to it. The horse stood on the wall opposite the stairway and Kevin stood in front of it to keep her from getting it.

Stephany wasn’t angry. She was annoyed and jealous but she wouldn’t have ruined his horse. Laughingly, she reached for the horse and Kevin pushed her away. She couldn’t take his horse, not Pegasus and not Shan’s World. She screamed as she fell down the stairs.

She falls like a ball, thought Kevin, watching her with shock. Rolling down the stairs. No, more like a rag doll tumbling down, landing like rubber on the floor Fall, ball, doll.

Oh my God!” a voice shouted and he heard mares, thought Kevin. soft, painful sobs coming from the form at the bottom of the stairs. “Keith, call a doctor! Call an ambulance! Stephie’ s fallen down the stairs!”

Stairs, cares, mares, thought Kevin. The stairs care. Care. Care. The stairs care xx my skin as though I was a pear. Pear, date, lair. The pair that dated is trapped in a lair. Pair, share scare. The pair that share had a scare. I’m scare. I’m scared! Scare, lair, pair. The pair are in a lair. Lair snare, stair. Stair. Stair. Stephanie stair. I’m scared. I’m scared. Stephanie stared.

No! No! No, go show. Slow, go row. Go row slow. Don’t let it snow because they will know. I’m scared! Go slow. Go slow. Don’t let them know.

“Kevin did you push her? A voice asked, a startled rather frightened voice.

Like a fawn that has lost its mother, thought Kevin. Lost its mother. Alone in the woods without its mother to hold it, to comfort it. Crying and crying to her. Surrounded by stony trees and hateful bushes. Crying and crying but she doesn’t come. Mother! Mother! Oh, mother, come back!

“I wish the ambulance would hurry!”

Hurry. Hurry. It echoed and echoed within Kevin. And he grabbed it desperately. Anything, anything not to see the rag doll. Doll, call, all. I’m calling!

“Did Kevin do it? I can’t… Here comes the ambulance. Open the door. Hurry!”

“I’ll go with her!”

“We’ll both go!”

“Kevin?”

“He’s old enough to take care of himself for an hour!”

“But if he did this…”

“She’s right over here! Please hurry! I’m afraid…”

The door closed and everyone left after a few minutes. Kevin stood at the top of the stairs looking down where Stephanie had fallen. Like a rag doll, he thought. Like a rag doll. Like a rag doll. The torch burns! It burns! To whom it may concern… Hurry! Hurry! I’m so afraid… Did Kevin do it? I’ll go with her! He’s old enough to take care of himself… Old enough. Old enough. I’ll go with her. I’ll go. I’ll go. I’ll go.

He ran. He didn’t know how long he ran. On and on until his legs could no longer carry him, and his body threatened to collapse. Run! His mind urged. Run, run, pleas run! He sunk to the ground, sitting on the curb unable to move further. Run! His mind pleaded. Please run! But his body could no longer follow the demands of his mind.

Then crawl! He told the body angrily. He had to go. Go. Go. Slowly, as though it was a film in slow motion, he crept to the building, cutting, and scraping his knees on glass and junk scattered around. A small square screen suggested the ideal hiding place. He felt secure in the darkness and continued to crawl until he was lost in it. Beautiful, veiling darkness, he thought, closing his eyes. But when he opened them he could see Stephanie tumbling down the stairs. Like a rag doll.

“Shan!” he shouted.

Shan watched the boy coming up the path with dread. His hair was damp and limp, his steps slow, and his shoulders bowed low. The look on his face was one of horror and fear. Shan felt his heart being stabbed with pain. He’d lost another one, he knew. This boy, too, would join the others in their forest of death. He did not jump beside the boy.

“Go home,” Shan barked as he came closer to the boy.

The boy almost fell beside him. “No, Shan,” he said wearily and tearfully. “No, Shan.”

“Go home now!” Shan commanded praying that the boy would obey.

However, the boy shook his head slowly. “I’m not going to, Shan. I’m never going home again.”

With a hard voice, Shan asked, “Are you going to deny the path?” Most of his hope had fled, so the hardness in his voice was but a show.

“Not yet,” said the boy slowly. “I want to see just one thing before I do.”

“Why should I allow you to?” Shan asked tightly. “If you think I will take you anywhere you are wrong.”

The boy looked wearily up at Shan, almost despising Shan’s World, and his friend. “Please Shan?”

“if you promise not to deny the path I will,” Shan said, pretending to be hopeful and trying to be hopeful but knowing from experience that the time for hope was past.

The boy shook his head slowly, studying the ground beneath him and his fingers playing with a fallen stick. “I’m sorry, Shan. I’m going to make the denial. I must now.”

“Why? Shan’s World has almost completed its job on you! You’re almost ready to live in your world forever and happily, my friend. Give it a chance. Don’t destroy all Shan’s World has done for you by denying it and your path! Why forfeit the ability to be happy?”

“I’ll never live in my world again, Shan,” the boy said, patient only because he was too tired to be anything else. “I don’t want to argue about it, but please just accept it.”

“Don’t you see that you will spend forever here, and that will be worse than anything you’ve ever seen in your world? Please, my friend…”

“Alright, Shan, so forever lies at your doorstep,” he interrupted feeling more energy. “As of now, the future doesn’t disturb me and I am willing to live only now.”

“You have made your decision,” Shan agreed sadly, accepting that it was no use to even pretend not to know that everything was lost. “I don’t understand how you could do it when you understand so much of the results but you did and I can’t stop that fact now.”

“Can we go somewhere?”
“I’m not sure I have the time,” Shan said.

“Shan, look, I’ve made my decision. I am going to deny the path. You won’t stop me by trying to make it bad now. I know well that it won’t ever be like this again, but at least let’s pretend it can still be for this minute. It won’t hurt, and it will be our last time.”

“Alright,” Shan acceded. “It will be fun, I suppose, though strongly shadowed by sadness. Where would you like to go?”

“I’ve heard a lot about the land of ghosts.”

Shan laughed. “Some call lit the haunted forest. Would you like to go through that spooky place?

“I like being afraid,” the boy answered. “It’ll be fun.”

They flew higher than his usual height and drifted down slowly. Spread below them was a colorful forest, though the boy could hardly understand its manner of shining. It would be extremely bright one minute and totally disappear the next. Its colors changed rapidly from bright, happy colors like yellows and oranges, to harsh, threating colors of black.

“Look carefully now,” advised Shan, “Because this may well be the only time you’ll ever see the haunted forest. If it doesn’t want visitors it’ll totally disappear. Right now, its black, which is warning us off. This forest isn’t exactly friendly. If it accepts you, though, you’ll find it a land of beauty.”

The forest did disappear. The boy and Shan landed on a bare, colorless field of spongy ground.

“This is worse than the dull forest!” the boy exclaimed.

Suddenly there was a pitch black forest around them. It was totally silent and seemed very ominous to the boy.

Shan smiled spiritually. “this is a forest with pride,” he told the boy. “and you have certainly insulted that!”

“It isn’t my fault,” the boy said. “I don’t think I like this Forest. First it looks like the Dull forest and then it turns itself into something worse than the Dark Forest by far. I’m not making it look like that.

The forest reacted to become beautiful as it had looked from the air. The boy caught his breath with surprise. Even after having seen so much wonder in Shan’s World he couldn’t help but react with surprise and shock in the midst of this magnificence.

“Well,” said Shan. “I hope you will now justly admit that this can be the most beautiful forest in Shan’s World.”

“I’ll admit that all right,” the boy agreed. “It is the most beautiful forest.”

They were totally ignored as they walked through the forest, but they did not ignore it. The boy was completely silenced by the overwhelming beauty. It was accented and given a dream-like quality by the “ghosts” that walked through it. When he looked at the people passing the boy had a feeling he was looking right through them, but actually they were a hazy, clearish color. The people glided instead of walking and seemed to flow. Their language consisted of musical notes. They had no mouth, nose or ears, and their eyes were but to black pin-points easily mistaken as background.

Shan called to one passing. “Does this forest have complaints?” he asked.

She emitted a note of music that seemed to come from her entire body. It was only a musical sound, but the boy felt his heart flutter. The tones in Shan’s World were as beautiful as the colors and sights. The “ghosts” had a stranger flowery fragrance to them that completed making this the most beautiful forest in every way.

The forest soon disappeared and Shan and the boy left silently. Days afterward the boy would close his eyes again and recreate the total sensual nourishment provided by the forest.

“so that is your last tour in Shan’s World,” said Shan. “Now, you go home.”

“No,” said the boy, “now I make the denial.”

“Don’t,” Shan pleased.

“I’m sorry, Shan. I know you don’t understand, but I just must. There’s no way I can go home. You see, I think I killed my sister.”

“What?” Shock.

“I pushed her down the stairs.”

“But that wouldn’t kill her!”

“It doesn’t matter. I still can’t return. I just can’t do it, Shan. Don’t keep arguing. I won’t return and I can’t return.”

“Wait awhile, then,” Shan urged. “Stay in Shan’s World a little longer than usual but don’t deny the path!”

“Shan, I must and I will.

“You don’t understand Shan’s World, my friend. This is a very special place, and when someone takes it as their own, they destroy so much of it, so much of the things it has to offer. If you are unable to find happiness at home, you will be unable to here also because both of the results are caused by a need to escape reality. When Shan’s World becomes your mass reality, you’ll run somewhere else. You can’t be happy here until you’re happy at home.”

“I don’t care. No unhappiness and unrest will be spread within me, “the boy said. He paused for a long time and the shouted so that the whole world could hear. “I deny my path! I make the denial! My path is denied!”

He had not been aware of the music like angels that had been playing for them before he said those words. However, he became aware of it when it stopped. Nor had he been conscious of the gentle wind that had been massaging him, but he missed it when it no longer comforted him. A stillness spread throughout the world, a dryness and gloomy silence. It was eerie, this sudden stop of color and all movement. The boy felt a shiver run through him.

“Is that final?” asked Shan. Even his voice seemed to have lost its life, and his color had ceased to rotate. “Have you made the Final Denial?” he asked, every part of his body devoid of expression.

Everything in the world seemed to urge against it. The stillness, the silence, and even the manner of the world seemed to urge the boy to say: “No.” However, he ignored those warnings as he had ignored all others. “I have denied the path finally!” he said loudly, decisively. The sky became black and threatening; thunder seemed to emote from the ground and sky at once; lightning flashed everywhere, giving off not light, but darkness and ugliness; the trees, previously flashing and rotating bright colors with a feeling of happiness, now darkened and the colors moved slowly. It was a major tragedy that another was condemned to the prison. The stream that had babbled cheerfully past them now gurgled in a choking sound, and the water became a blood-red in color. Leaves fell from the branches of the trees in large bunches, so that a rain of blackened leaves fell as the lightning and thunder made known their sorrow. With the picture of sorrow and tragedy came a sound that the boy would never forget. It would haunt his dreams at night, over and over again. The branches and trunks of the trees began to sway back and forth, all the while they moaned loudly. Emitting from everywhere the boy heard, long, suffering moans. It was almost as though all of them were being slashed and the pain was unbearable to them. The agony in the moans and screams made the boy want to run and hide himself forever.

He covered his ears and shouted for it to stop, but still the moaning and agonizing screams continued. “Stop it!” cried the boy. “Shan, make it stop! Stop it!” He covered his ears and rolled in the grass like a puppy trying to shut out noise.

“All of this is within your own mind,” said Shan, but the boy did not hear him and it did not stop. Over and over the screams repeated themselves. The boy shouted and cried because it was so painful to his ear and mind, but he could not stop it.

“Alright,” he shouted at last. “I don’t want to stay here! I’ll go home! Please, I’ll go home! Let me go home again!”

“It’s too late,” said Shan. “This means that you have lost the understanding and without that you cannot get home. Usually there are several days between the denial and the loss, but you were so close to discovering the secret that you denied it when you denied the path.” But again, the boy couldn’t hear him and the agonizing screams continued in his ears.

It didn’t exactly end. The noise became less and less, until, finally, there were only background sounds of pain haunting the boy. The thunder and lightning still demonstrated their wrath, and the world remained dark and threatening, but the screaming became only an undertone, like the gentle whispers of trees swaying in the breeze, but the whispers were cruel and harsh rather than gentle.

“Why did you do that?” sobbed the boy. “Why?”

“The creator was retaliating against a foreign object in his world, as your body will do,” shrugged Shan.

“But I am a part of Shan’s World now!” cried the boy.

“You’ll never be a part, and I think you’d better understand that right nw. You will always be like a flea on a dog as long as are here. A flea is a part of the dog in a way, but a part he neither likes nor wants. He tries to shake it off, scratch it off, and others help him by getting him a flea collar. We’ll never have a flea collar for parasites like you, but we’ll scratch and shake often enough because we can never accept you as one of us. That is all you’re going to get from Shan’s World.” Shan’s manner had changed in the minutes that had passed since the boy made the denial of his path. He was no longer the host to a guest for the guest had decided to stay against the will of the household.

“Shan, are you mad at me?” asked the boy, frightened, and bewildered by the change of the entire world, including his best friend, Shan. Why couldn’t everything be just like it used to be or at least a little better?

“In a way,” admitted Shan without apology. “I’m thinking of your parents and family. I am thinking of what you have done to Shan’s World. I’m thinking of your ingratitude. I am thinking, also, of myself, because once again I have failed and will have to watch another withstand the pain of captivity. My friend, it is time to say good-by. I have to bring others the peace and happiness and perhaps they won’t deny it.”

“Don’t leave me, Shan!” cried the boy.

“You are no longer a guest and I am no longer the one to give you a tour,” Shan said hotly. “I liked you as a guest and I dislike you intensely as a permanent resident.” He paused. “Good-by. It was nice while it lasted.”

“Oh, no, Shan!” gasped the boy, frightened by this betrayal. “Oh, no, Shan!”

“Good-by,” Shan repeated for the third time. Then he spread his magnificent wings, now dark in mourning and took off, leaving the boy behind.

The boy stood there in the familiar spot and watched Shan disappear into the dark sky. In his mind he remembered all the things the two of them and done together. He thought of the palace and Shan’s promise to take him there to see it again. He thought of Pegasus, and how generous Shan had been to get that for him. Pegasus was at home waiting for him and now the boy would never see him again. That was a sad thought. He thought of all the places that Poggii and Shan had told him about, and longed to see them. His heart ached a little bit when he thought of his mother and father during the last day. It had been truly happy.

“Hello,” said a small voice from behind him.

He turned around and smiled with delight at Poggii. “Hi!” he greeted. “Am I glad to see you!”

Poggii looked around and saw as the boy saw. “You have denied the path,” he said slowly. “You really did.”

“Yes,” said the boy, happily now. “I am now a resident of Shan’s World.” Suddenly he felt that Shan’s World would forgive him soon, and he would be able to live happily just like it started out to be.

“I just made a very foolish wish,” said Poggii, apparently ignoring what the boy had said. “I did not think it was a foolish wish when I said it, but now I find out just how foolish that wish really was, and how foolish I was to make it.”

Almost afraid to ask, but compelled to do so, the boy said, “what was your wish, Poggii?”

“It wasn’t really a wish at all,” replied the other. “I merely said that I hoped you would have sense enough to recognize how good it is to have two worlds. Now I find that it was a very foolish wish indeed. For once I believe that Shan imported me for a reason. I was foolish to believe that they weren’t all alike.”

“Who weren’t all alike?” asked the boy, slowly. A tear trickled down his cheek. Where all of his friends going to dessert him and leave him alone in this world? Could Shan’s World actually become as bad as he had been told?

“You from the other world,” replied Poggii. “You who this world was created for. You aren’t the first to stay, you know, and now I really believe you won’t be the last. Well, have fun. You are really the fool. It is not Shan who should be called the fool, but you and your kind.”

“Oh, no, Poggii, please! Not you, too. I am not trying to take away your world; I am just trying to become a part of it.”

“Despite the fact that you know you cannot,” cried Poggii. “You know you can’t be a part of Shan’s World. You’ve been told that before. You Fool!” he spat the word. “You selfish little fool!”

“Can’t anyone understand? Can’t anyone? I’m not being selfish! Really, I’m not!”

“Maybe not, consented Poggii. “You are still a coward and someday when you no longer are, you shall regret it. Good-by fool. Call me when you change, if your kind ever do.”

“No! Don’t leave me, Poggii!”

“Good-by,” repeated his friend. “It was fun while it lasted but it didn’t last long.” With tears the boy watched his second friend, and the first one he had met in Shan’s World walk away from him.

The moaning and screaming became slightly louder. The boy laid down and cried. Shan’s World was no longer the total happiness and peace it had been before. The happiness had disappeared with the loss of his friends, and the peace disappeared with the sorrow that enveloped him in low moans and screams. The boy felt that Shan’s World was a torture chamber with no way to escape.

It was then that he finally realized what being exiled meant. It meant that millions of years would pass and he would never again see his parents unless he found the understanding. If he did that, he would be with his parents immediately, but he might never find it. Never It suddenly seemed so long, so horrible. Never. That meant forever in Shan’s World, and now that sounded just as bad as being away from his parents forever. He might never know how Stephanie was or if his parents forgave him. Never. Infinite. Billions of years might pass and it would be only a minute for those he loved. He had millions and billions of years ahead of him on Shan’s World and he might never see his own.

The sound of sobbing increased, and the screams and moans also gained velocity.

10.   Chapter Ten p. 183

Keith and Aimie received the news that Stephanie was alright with joy. “A cracked rib, and several painful bruises,” they were told, “but no serious injuries. If you’d like to go and see her now you may. We must, of course, keep her in the hospital for observation, but she can probably be released tomorrow afternoon.”

“Hi, sugar,” Keith said as Stephanie opened her eyes and looked up at them. “How are you feeling?”

Stephie bit her lip. “I’m alright,” she said.

“Does it hurt?” her mother asked sympathetically.

Tears came into her daughter’s eyes. “No,” she said. “I’m just scared!” Aimie hugged her for a minute.

What’s there to be afraid of now, Stephie?”

“It was awful! When I close my eyes, I can still feel it! Falling over and over!”

“You’re safe now,” Aimie promised her brushing back a piece of Stephanie’s hair.

They let her sleep and went back to the other room. “Kevin’s all alone at home,” Keith said after a long silence. “He’s probably frightened and he hasn’t eaten yet.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Aimie said. “Please, Keith, not yet.”

“Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll call. What is there for him to eat?”

“Tell him to heat up the spaghetti and go next door to Terri if there are any problems.” She studied Keith’s face carefully. “Be careful what you say,” she warned.

Keith let the phone ring nine times before he hung up, defeated. “No answer,” he told Aimie. “I guess I’ll have to go home and check on him.”

“No, don’t do that,” Aimie pleaded. “Call Terri and ask her to run next door to our house and see if he’s alright. Please don’t leave, Keith.”

“You’d better call; I hardly even know her,” Keith said.

Before long Aimee returned. “She said she would keep Kevin at her house until we return and that we needn’t hurry. She’s certainly a nice person. She also said that the lights were off. Poor Kevin! He’s probably too frightened to even answer the phone. I can just see him in the darkness of his room afraid to even move. I’m glad we called her.”

“So am I,” said Keith and they went back into Stephanie’s room.

“She looks so pretty asleep,” whispered Aimie looking at her daughter’s face in sleep.

Stephanie opened her eyes slowly. She glanced at her mother and father and then around the room. “I’m at the hospital, aren’t I?”

“Actually, it’s a good hotel, with excellent room service, though th4e food isn’t always to be complimented,” Keith said.

“How are you feeling, Stephie?” asked her mother.

“Not too badly,” she said and then she paused. “I was awake once before, wasn’t I?” I’d thought that I only dreamt it.”

“No dream,” Keith assured her. “But I think this will teach you to trip down the stairs.” He looked at Aimie, who met his glance squarely.

Not fair, her eyes said.

I must know, his replied.

Stephanie looked carefully at her father to see if he was teasing her. “I didn’t trip,” she said finally. “Kevin pushed me.”

“Why,” asked Aimie still looking at Keith.

Don’t jump to conclusions, her eyes warned.

There’s no jumping involved, his told her sadly.

“No reason,” Stephanie said. “I only wanted to look at his horse and he wouldn’t let me.”

Aimie didn’t yet look away. Accident? She asked silently with her eyes.

Keith shook his head.

Aimie looked away from him. “Well,” she said to Stephanie, “You’re alright now, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing, agreed Keith tightly.

Stephanie tried to understand the double meanings she sensed going over her head.

No words were necessary. The two sat on opposite sides of Stephanie’s bed and talked to her about the food and service in the hospital. They did not speak of Kevin.

“There’s a telephone call for you at the desk,” a nurse said, interrupting a silence that had fallen as thickly as a cloud.

“Thank you,” Amie I said and she and Keith went to the desk. “Hello?”

“Aimie?” asked a voice. “this is Terri.”

“Did you check on Kevin?” Aimie asked. “How did he react? “

“I couldn’t find him! That’s the trouble!”

“Couldn’t find…! But he’s there!”

“Well, he’s probably hiding, because I can’t find him anywhere. It might be because he doesn’t know me very well, but…” She paused and then in a different tone asked: “Well, what should I do?”

“Put some food out where he can see it and leave a note. Keith and I will be hope as soon as we can talk once more with the doctor and Stephanie.”

“How is she?”

“She’ll be alright.”

“Aimie, I can’t stay…”

“I know. Thank you, Terri. Kevin will be alright. He hides when he’s angry or frightened sometimes. Keith and I will be home as soon as possible. Thank you.”

“what’s wrong?” Keith demanded when Aimie put the phone back on the cradle. “Where’s Kevin?”

Aimie avoided his eyes. “Kevin’s hiding from Terri.”

“She couldn’t find him?
“No.”

“Why don’t we say good-by to Stephanie and go back home?” asked Keith. “I don’t want Kevin alone.”

“Stephanie will be afraid.”

“Aimie, Kevin pushed her! What do you think he’s feeling? We’d better get home and talk to him. We shouldn’t even have left him in the first place!”

“I know, Keith! Let me talk to the doctor before we go though because it will frighten Stephie when we leave her. Remember how afraid Diane…” She stopped.

“Never mind!” Keith began walking towards Stephanie’s room. Aimie followed closely.

“Stephie, we’ve got to go home,” Aimie told her gently. “We’ll be back early tomorrow morning, I promise.”

“No, don’t leave!” Stephanie cried and bit her lip as tears came into her eyes.

“Darling, we must. We’ll be right back. The nurses and doctors will take care of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of. And before you even awaken in the morning, we’ll be there, alright?” Keith said.

“I know you’re afraid, because the hospital is new it you, and you just went through a frightening experience. But I promise you that it isn’t a frightening place, and we’ll be back early in the morning with a gift for you. Would you like that?”

Stephanie nodded, tears slipping from her eyes.

“It’s alright,” Aimie assured her. “Be brave?”

Again, the girl nodded and they left.

Keith and Aimie searched for Kevin alone for over an hour, but were unable to find him. They called some friends and explained the situation to them. “Kevin accidentally pushed Stephanie down the stairs and we left with the ambulance, foolishly. I can’t believe that Kevin ran away, but Aimie and I can’t find him. Can you possibly come to help? He’s probably feeling so terribly guilt.”

They had seven people searching but still there was no sign of Kevin. They knocked on each door along the street to see if anyone had seen him anywhere and several others joined the search.

Finally, Aimie and Keith called the police, afraid that Kevin had truly run away.

11.   Chapter Eleven p. 189

The boy did not want to go to the creator’s forest immediately, he decided. He did want to go and it was important to him, but he had forever in Shan’s World now, and saw no reason to hurry. So, he just strolled along enjoying the separate forests and accepting the beauty they offered him so lavishly. One of the forest sin particular caught his attention and he remained there for several wonderful days.

The boy had heard of the forest of the angels, and the forest lived up to the generous praise that had been bestowed upon it. The moment he entered it, all doubts, all bewildering emotions that had plagued the boy were swept away, and were replaced royally. All through the boy ran the overpowering desire to laugh and the tingling excitement of pure, unchecked happiness. He felt like leaping into the air and straining his lungs to sing joyous songs of happiness. However, the boy did not have to supply the music. The moaning which had followed him so softly in the background were replaced with songs that portrayed happiness as nothing the boy had ever heard as able. The musical notes and lovely voices created a very visual image of bright, shining gold within the boy. The songs were sung with gentleness but were alive with the excitement of joyousness. The voices were soft, unintruding, but the boy could hear every word they sun and his heart and mind flowed with the beauty. The music did not seem only external to the boy. It came from everywhere, including his own body. Everything in the forest of the angels sang with happiness and love. It seemed to be emitted from his sole and it vibrated within his mind like a thousand birds all joined in one song of happiness. Indeed, this was the first of the angels.

The colors in the forest of the angels didn’t flash as most of the other forests did. The colors in this forest were many of much variety, but it did not flash and impose its colors upon the visitor. All the color in this forest was tinged with gold and its almost seemed like flames of colors. However, it was a gentle flame, licking the boy’s eyes softly with its beauty. The boy felt as though he were standing in the midst of powerful but warm sunshine heating the body with love. It beamed and drew him into this inner peace and joyfulness this forest was made of.

The boy found it impossible to keep from laughing and allowed himself the indulgence. Everything uncomfortable was wiped from his mind, and he felt as free as any of the angels giving their songs to the inhabitants of the forest. He leaped into the air and clapped his hands together. “It feels wonderful!” he shouted as loud as he was able.

After four days, he left the forest because of a very disturbing experience. First, he thought someone was bending over him and exclaimed about something. It was a very vague picture that seemed almost ghostly. He heard a siren like hat that picked dup Stephanie and remembered little else about that, though he felt something while he knew of nothing going on. Next, he was lying in a bed, and he very clearly felt that bed beneath him. “Kevin,” his father’s voice said, and he turned around to look at him. For a minute he thought he didn’t turn around at all, but he felt certain that he had. “Stephanie is alright,” his father said. This time Kevin didn’t even move.

The scene was almost a vague dream, but it also carried a very sharp sense of reality about it and it frightened the boy. He left the forest of the angels regretfully but necessarily.

Walking was not difficult or tiring for him when he remembered that he had no need to hurry any more. It took a lot of intellectual convincing to make him truly believe that there would be no end and there was no need to worry about the waste of time. Time could be wasted constantly and he would still have more to waste. Now, though, it was easier for hm to stroll along, realizing that he had forever in Shan’s World. Because of this realization, he was almost disappointed when he arrived in Shan’s forest. He had been surprised to learn that there were no guards around the forest as he remember Poggii once telling him that no one except the invited guests of Shan were allowed to go in the forest. He had had no trouble getting into Shan’s forest and couldn’t understand what kept Poggii from walking right in to the forest and then Shan’s Palace.

“You have permission to enter,” said a voice nearby after the boy had passed two flashing sticks.

“Who are you?’ asked the boy, seeing no one.’

“We are the protectors,” flashed the stick. Its colors pulsed with the sound waves. It might be, thought the boy, that he did not actually hear the voice at all but that the sticks sent brain waves to his brain, causing him to think he heard voices.

“The protectors of what?” asked the boy.

The protectors of Shan’s forest, replied the stick.

Why would you want to protect Shan’s forest? The other forests are not guarded and do not need protecting.”

“The protectors of Shan’s forest and Shan’s palace and of Shan,” explained the stick.

The boy snorted. “Shan moves around too much for you to do a good job protecting him!”

“When he is in Shan’s palace, which is in Shan’s forest, which is in Shan’s World, we are the protectors of Shan’s,” the sticks answered.

“Shan has everything!” muttered the boy, smiling appreciatively at his own joke. The to explain the joke to any other listener, including the sticks, he said, “Shan’s World, Shan’s forest, Shan’s protectors, Shan’s guests, Shan’s wings, Shan’s ideas. Shan’s eyes. Everything is Shan’s” he laughed but it did not seem quite as funny as it had and he was sorry he elaborated it.

“You may pass,” repeated the stick.

“Thank you,” said the boy, bowing formally just because he was in a silly mod and wanted a good laugh.

He was walking along for awhile before the Earth began to shake beneath him and he heard a terrific roar of fury and fire. Beside him flashed blinding colors of lightning and a shadow of enormous width. It uttered a screech and something rough rubbed against his skin. The boy fell to his feet, too frightened to stand.

The first thing he was truly conscious of was laughter. It was not cruel laughter, more like gentle, tender laughing. And it was very familiar. The boy looked up and saw above him, as he had expected, Shan enjoying his joke. He sprang to his feet in one flowing leap almost unconscious of the movement. “Shan!” he cried. His eyes flashed with anger. “You might have killed me! I’ve never been so frightened in my life!”

Shan did not cease his soft, gentle laughter. “You are a resident of Shan’s World now,” he reminded the boy. “the only death you are possible of experiencing is the semi-death or limbo between spiritual life and physical death. And you have not yet experienced that!”

“No thanks to you!” exclaimed the boy. “None at all. I do not think I want to see Shan’s palace after all. It is a beautiful forest, but certain people destroy it!” He turned away and began to march back the way he had come.

Shan stopped him physically. “And where exactly do you intend to go, my friend?” he asked. “You’ll be here forever, and now that you’ve decided to stay, I want you to be happy. Are you happy here?”

“I love it,” the boy said.

“Enough to spend your entire life and longer here?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I can do it. Or I’ll find the secret.”

“You can hardly find the secret without already being happy here. You’re here, in all probability, and you cannot change that fact. Never start regretting it or that decision you made. I didn’t want you to come, but now that you have, I want you to stay happy. Love Shan’s World, because it’s all you have.”

“But I didn’t know that it might become like…” The boy cried without restraining himself. He hadn’t wanted Shan to know his despair about the condition of the Forest That once looked so beautiful and now cried t him. He hadn’t even admitted this discontent to himself until the words were already out of his mouth.

“Those moans and agony you hear, my boy, is not from the surroundings, for I don’t hear them. They are from our heart, that knows so much more than your mind will ever know. Your heart can feel, but your mind depends too much on knowledge and thought. Give to this life the love in your heart, rather than the thought and memories of your mind. Your heart doesn’t remember, it only feels now. Let it feel love to Shan’s World. Think fondly of your past as the lost childhood and accept Shan’s World. Don’t let the memories turn your initial love into bitterness and hate. The memories must die with the unreachable. Let them, my friend. Please let them.”

“Alright, Shan, I’ll be like Isaac. I’ll see only the good and play the games apart from them. But, for now, I’m going to the Forest of the Angels, just to get used to the idea.”

“no,” said Shan. “Not there!”

“Why not? I wish to make my home there and I don’t see why I shouldn’t?”

“A foolish wish indeed! You cannot make your home there, because you have partial or complete communication with those around you, but no contact with your body. It is only one of the strange things in that forest and unsuspecting people have been driven quite insane.”

The boy remembered his experience when he thought he heard his father talking to him, and admitted that it had been too upsetting to risk again. “Alright,” he alleged. “Where do you suggest I make my home instead?”

“find a forest that wants you first, my friend, and then check it with me. Some forest will accept you, my boy, and that forest will be yours. Someday we shall search for it together. Meantime I know where you shall be.”

Because Shan seemed to intend to stop with that sentence, the boy was forced to follow into the obvious trap and ask, “Where?”

“Considering that you made a foolish wish, you shall be wherever I decide to take you. God=by. Have a fun trek home!”

For the first time since he was created, Shan made a serious mistake. He overshot his mark and the boy ended up at a place he had not meant to send him. The boy found himself in the black pond of the dark forest, which was the boundary between all hope and the dark lands. The land of no hope, no beauty, and the one place in the world that had pain was the dark lands.

The water of the black pond looked murky to the boy. It reminded him of a pool of oil. On it, however, were two dark black swans. They were large creatures, as large or larger than the boy himself. Their eyes were like a deep well at night. The depths of the eye seemed infinite and there was a glint in them that caused a strong feeling of fear within the boy. Their beaks, reddish as most swans, were long and curling. Almost, thought the boy despite himself, like that of a vulture.

There was a dock leading o=into the pond about seven feet. The boy knew that he should not go out on it. But he found it impossible to fight the urge that compelled him towards it. At the end of the dock there awaited a row boat. Every instinct within him rebelled, but his body was no longer following his instincts. The command came from some force other than himself and he climbed into the boat. It did not matter that they had never rowed a boat before, he picked up the oars and rowed with the skill of an experienced sailor. In the middle of the pond, he stopped and threw the oars into the water. Down splashed the anchor.

The boy’s eyes widened with fear as he realized what he had done. He was now trapped out in the middle of this pond. There was nothing he could do but watch the swans come closer to him. His mind was returned to him and once more under his control. He stared, unable to move and unable to concentrate, this time due to intense fear. Closer and closer waddled the creatures, looking only at him with those deep, foreboding eyes. They seemed to be in no hurry to reach their victim.

“What are you doing on this Pond?” asked the cob, his head raising higher than the boy on his long, thin neck. Somehow the gratefulness of the creature made him seem even more foreboding. Like a cat ready to attack his victim, thought the boy.

“I don’t know,” replied the boy, the truth forced from him, rather than a safer lie. “I made a foolish wish and found myself here.”

“Scratch my head,” commanded the pen, gracefully bending her head towards him. “I believe something is causing it to itch.”

Hesitantly, the boy raised his hand to rub her head. He rubbed gently, but she screamed in agony. “He’s killing me!” she shouted. “He’s trying to kill me!”

With a hiss of anger, the cob grabbed the boy’s arm and whirled him away from them with tremendous strength.

12.   Chapter Twelve p. 198

The boy was alone, terribly alone in the forest. He felt the aloneness, the isolation. Alone. Alone. The word drummed form within and without him. Alone. Alone. It picked up speed and echoed throughout his entire body. Alone. Alone. It spat at him angrily, hatefully. Alone Alone. It screamed within him, cursing him. Alone. Isolated. Isolated from help. Isolated form life. Isolated in death. Alone. Alone. It shrank him until he was unable to see himself amongst the harsh pebbles of sand pricking, jabbing, cutting him cruelly. Alone. Alone. It whipped him, leaving welts upon his body that grew and grew until his body was a mass of welts. Alone. Alone. It deaf4ened him with a roar of hostility and maliciousness and blinding him with the needles of hatred. Alone. Alone. His heart beat tits tune and stopped beating at its command. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

He panicked, trying to run form the word, but it set up walls of isolation, and when he touched them it burned him cruelly. He could not escape the helplessness the word forced upon him. He could not escape the tune of hatred. He was unable to escape the death it forced upon him when its vacuum sucked from him his precious life. He could not escape the shriveling of his body and mind as it dried him out and beat all the moisture form him.

Alone. Alone. The word advanced upon him, attacking with experience and hatred. It swallowed the boy’s insides, gulping but a little at a time so he could watch its progress and live the torture it caused him. Bite by bite it swallowed the pieces that formed him. It tortured him with the knowledge of his own destruction and mocked the boy’s feeble attempts to retaliate.

The boy tried to raise his head and clear it of that terrible word. But the word was reinforced by his hostile surroundings. The trees glared at him, bending their gnarled branches and trunks towards him. Their beady eyes were fastened tightly upon the boy, and hatred glinted in them threateningly. Slowly, he felt the distance between their hate and threat lessen, as they bent closer to him, closer and closer.

The boy screamed, and the scream gained velocity and rumbled back on him. It attacked him like a truck rushing towards him, to run over his body and smash him upon the ground. The boy heard it advance, getting nearer and nearer to him. He could feel the wind rushing ahead of it, and the vibrations controlled his heart beat. Close and closer. He felt himself squeezed together as it came nearer. Soon it would smash him, leaving nothing. He could feel the beginning of its terrible power, closer and closer. Closer… And then it stopped.

All was silent. At first the silence was beautiful and the boy lay panting and sobbing upon the ground. But it grew into a still, deadly quiet. The quiet before a sudden burst of noise and tragedy. It flattened him and tensed him. The silence haunted the boy as had the word reminding him of siltation. It held him at the brink of its gaping hole, ready to swallow him in, were he to fall off. It grew. He felt it become bigger and bigger, and moved backwards to avoid its horrifying edges. He could move any more. A tree blocked his way, and edge of the gaping hole awaited him. It drew deeper and wider, more threating. It was nothingness and it would make the boy nothing. He could feel his body begin to disintegrate as it swallowed him within its nothingness. It attacked his body like stomach acid attacking food. Slowly he felt the edge and it grew underneath him, so he was barely able to remain on the tiny bank remaining. Then that was gone. He began to fall into the hole. Down. Down. Down Into nothingness. Nothingness.

The fall stopped. He felt the dirt beneath his hands and legs. Oh, reassuring dirt! His hands clenched it securely. He felt its warmth against his body, proving that there was still some life in him. Slowly the warmth spread and became warmer and warmer until it scorched him. He tried to stand up, but the trees bent towards him and held him to the ground. He tried to crawl away but the isolation and the horrible awareness of helplessness held him. He laid again upon the ground, allowing the heat to turn his body into ashes and melt the life within him. He saw himself first turn red, and then black and blistery. He watched as the heat mad his skin peel slowly from his body and the blood within him boiled. He felt it boil. And saw it bubble within his hand. Fascinated, the boy watched his blood flow in slow bubbling mass away from his body.

“No! No! No! No!” he screamed, terrified.

And the words took on the shape of a black cloud surrounding him. Each breath he exhaled turned black and encircled itself around the boy. Slowly it created a box, and then began to move its walls closer to him. He felt smothered Every breath tortured him, eating part of his lungs. It scratched and tore at his insides, and swirled unchecked within his mouth, brushing away skin. It got into his blood and clawed his veins at is toured them, turning his body a dull, greyish black. He tried to hold his breath, and it entered through his pores. His body expanded under the pressure and the skin surrounding his body became tighter and together. His heart had to beat violently to get the blood through the veins and it felt more tired each beat. Something had to happen. The pressure mounted within him and the boy almost screamed again from release from this torture.

And it came. He felt a sudden jump of his heart and then one irregular weak kick. He could feel the stilled heart within his chest, and his body was totally silent. He had never heard silence from within himself, and this was as terrifying as any of the other tortures he had experienced. He could feel

The stilled heart within his chest and his body was totally silent. He had never heard silence from within himself and this was as terrifying as any of the other tortures he had experienced. He could feel the lack of movement in the blood, and he could feel the stiffness of his muscles having no commands to move them. The boy was terribly aware of the stilled lungs that weren’t drawing fresh are or sweet air! Slowly he felt death creep over him as the air stole the heat of his body. He felt his arms and legs stiffen. Slowly his hands became colder and colder, while the air around him became warmer and warmer. He grabbed desperately at the warmth, but it skillfully eluded him. He chaffed his legs and his chest and his face and arms, but the warmth pealed from his body and the air turned happy circles around it, then carried the warmth beyond the reach of the grasping boy.

When the boy felt that all was lost, that the worst had happened, and the last that cloud he had been experienced, mocking laughter filled the air and tortured his ears. It was the laughter of his sister and schoolmates twisted cruelly. It was the scornful laughter of his father and mother, striking him like sharp, painful stones. It was the contempt of his teacher reaching his ears and poured into them as acid in a container. It dissolved the elements within his head, breaking all his shields and protection from hurt. From all around him attacked the mocking, hateful laughter. It came from the ground and the trees and the very air he breathed. It aimed for him, pointed by fingers laughing and jeering. It chanted around him, filling his complete being with its cruelty. And it was so real… the boy began to laugh, his hysterical voice joining the voices of those he knew and loved. His laughter reached his ears changed, and cut sharply into his heart. He was mocking himself. Over and over the boy heard his laughter destroying Kevin and his self. He beneath the ground to escape its clarity, but each time his fist hit the ground it became louder and still more contempt. All except that insane, horrible laughter, became unreal. The laughter became clearer, truer, and harsher.

“No!” screamed the boy desperately. “No! It isn’t true! It just isn’t true! No! No! No! No!” his body quivered and shook with the effort to rid himself of the horrible reality, horrible emotions, sights and sounds thrust upon him. He directed everything within him towards denying it and disbelieving it. He concentrated every portion of his mind on home and mass reality. He clung to them and was willing to totally drain them of their strength to t keep the dark lands from making its insane fears terrifying reality.

Shan did not usually check on the people after having sent them somewhere when they made the foolish wish. Never before had he made a mistake, and, thus, never before had it been necessary. However, this time he was haunted by a strange feeling that something was wrong somewhere, terribly wrong. He scanned Shan’s World for problems but could find none. It was only after having scanned the edge that he stopped and realized with shock exactly what had been haunting him. He had sent the boy to the edge between Shan’s World and the dark forest, but the boy was not there.

Carefully, Shan checked the edge again and still couldn’t find the boy. He scanned the surrounding forests to see if he might have already moved from the edge., however Shan couldn’t find him, and the forests reported that he had not gone through them. More ware than ever, Shan checked the place he was certain the bow was in. If the boy was in the dark forest, they would demand more room to expand their forest, and Shan could do nothing but refuse it, putting the boy in grave danger. It could mean a war or battles against the dark forest, but the surrounding forests trying to retain their spaces. Shan shivered.

“This is Shan,” he boomed to the forest below him. “What do you want in return for the boy?”

“We don’t have the boy,” the forest replied. “Is he what you are searching for?

“He can’t do you any good whatsoever without me and my permission to get what you wish. Of course, you have the boy! What do you want him for? Don’t forget that I still have the weapons to destroy your entire forest.”

“Shan, we don’t have the boy!”

“I sent him to the edge,” Shan said patiently. “He isn’t in any of the surrounding forests. Therefore, you have him.”

“A tree from the murky pond reported that the boy was there.”

“The murky pond! That’s the edge between you and the dark lands! How could he get there? I don’t believe you.” Shan felt the tightening in his muscles. He did believe them. He was believing their words even as he denied it. Shan knew there was no reason for them to lie, but he had to be certain, and he had to accept the truth more gradually than they were forcing him to.

“It’s the truth, Shan. What would we gain by lying?”

“Alright,” Shan said with a sigh. “He’s at the murky pond. That’s better than…”

“He WAS at the murky pond, the forest below corrected. “He isn’t now.”

“Where is he?”” Shan felt fear stab his heart. Where could the boy be but the place that the edge bordered. Shan fought that will all he could. It was impossible for the boy to be in the dark lands. He couldn’t walk across, he wouldn’t be as stupid as all that!”

“I don’t know. He isn’t in this forest.”

“Is he still in the murky pond?” Shan yelled, because his patience had fled with the intense fear for the boy. He had seen people after they had gone in the Dark Lands.

“Last that we saw of him, he was out on the pond and the black swans were advancing upon him. That was our last report and that is all we can tell you.”

“Then he is in the dark lands,” Shan said slowly. He forced the words out, hoping he would be able to accept them easier if they were spoken vocally. Still, however, the meaning of the words struck him hard. Was there any hope for the boy in the dark lands at all? Was it foolish to worry about him now when there was probably so little hope anyway? Perhaps he should return to his palace and pretend that he never even knows of the boy. However, Shan was unable to do that. If the boy had wandered in by himself, Shan might be able to just dismiss it, but Shan had sent him there. The boy’s life was Shan’s responsibility.

“Rewx,” he mind-signaled to the head of the Anders. He called to the Anders because they were the strongest an almost mentally capable of the flying creatures in Shan’s World. No other birds in Shan’s land could help him in this endeavor as the Anders, and perhaps the Huys.

“Rewx, answering, Shan,” Said Rewx.

“There’s trouble, and I’ll need your strongest birds, mentally and physically. We’ll have to go into the dark lands, Rewx, perhaps, and you’d better make certain that they are all aware of all that that could mean. Only your best men, because one mistake could be responsible for the death of all of us. His powers of illusions are extremely dangerous and could destroy all of us. Make certain that each of those you chose has a strong mental picture of himself. It is of utmost importance.”

“Alright, Shan. Give us approximately 10 minutes and we’ll be there. Perhaps some Huys, also.”

“Huys are generally strong enough,” Shan agreed. “But get only the strongest. Our lives, and perhaps the continued existence of Shan’s World depends on those you choose.”

“Right.”

Shan circled the boundaries for several minutes while awaiting the Huys and the Anders. He wished fervently that the Anders had not been at their second grounds – so far away from the dark lands and the dark forest. Frantically, and almost hopelessly, Shan searched for the boy in the dark forest, in case the forest had not told the truth and the boy was in it after all. However, it became apparent that they were probably perfectly honest in their report. Shan could find the boy nowhere and had to admit, once and for all, that the boy was in the dark lands. Shan longed to be able to look in the dark lands without having to go directly over them, but no one from Shan’s world could do that, not even Shan. It would be foolish for him to go over the lands alone, though every minute was more torture for the boy. He knew it would only be more trouble if he were to be captured by the dark lord. The dark lord was Shan’s only equal and Shan wasn’t prepared for a battle of wills. He knew that the dark lord would probably win that battle and he would be helpless when the boy would need every bit of help he could get. The dark lands were terribly cruel to its visitors, finding the most painful way to torture each individual, probing each mind for that which would horrify him the most and cause the most pain, mentally and physically. Shan shivered and wished that the others would hurry up.

It was a good sight when Shan saw the Anders. They were large creatures, a reddish, orangish, yellowish color that did not glow, but flashed in the sun like a new copper penny. Their necks were long and stretched din front of them in a way that geese fly. However, unlike geese, they did not look uncomfortable or awkward in that position. Gracefulness was their best virtue, and they never looked in the least bit awkward. Shan believed them to be the most beautiful creatures in Shan’s World.

Among them, Shan noticed, were some Huys. They provided a shocking contrast to their friends and cousins, the Anders. They looked like ducks waddling in water, even when they were flying in air. It was ridiculous to see wings where legs would be on normal birds. The little wings pumped constantly alone to give the impression they were merely skimming along the water. Usually Shan wanted to laugh at this sight, but today he felt no desire to laugh. In spite of their awkward appearance, the Huys were amazing creatures, and could compete with the Anders in speed, flexibility, and strength.

Both birds, Shan thought gratefully, would be a great asset in case they were forced to fight with the dark lord’s creatures. Both birds could fight the dark lord if it was necessary and that was what Shan judged important at that moment. The oncoming birds were a welcome sight.

No one spoke. Shan took the lead and they took off for what all feared to be a battle and a new era in Shan’s World.

The boy could not retain his control for long. The power was too overwhelming for him. As long as he was able he tried to believe that this was but an illusion and it couldn’t happen but the real soon flooded his mind and the horrors of the dark lands were once again in the power of the boy.

Power. Power. The word echoed within his mind and each repetition caused a hand from nowhere to grow larger and larger. Then another hand appeared and they placed themselves on either side of the boy. Power. Power. With each thumping echo they moved closer to the boy, ready to smash him like a fly, and send his splinters flying everywhere. Then the laughter began once more, and the word “alone” began to drum within his head. Still the hand closed in on him

Until he could feel its coldness touching him. He heard the screams of earlier repeated louder than before, and with them came melting, bright colors that frightened the boy even more. Red began to drop from the hands like blood, and some of it fell frozen upon the boy. Together, the hands, the isolation, the power, the screams, the color, and blood came closer to the boy. They came together to attack and destroy. The laughter mocking, jeering, and teasing. Power. Power and aloneness striking him helpless. Colors and screams frightening him and the hands attempting to kill him. Close and closer they advanced.

The boy laid shivering upon the ground, his entire body quivering violently.

An uncontrollable impulse tugged at the boy. He tried to fight it, to tell himself that it would only cause more pain and suffering. He tried to ignore it and sign nursery rhymes under his breath. But he finally looked up slowly and found himself facing a shivering shadow. It had a phantasmorgic quality about it, that contrasted with the naked reality this land had produced for the boy thus far. With it he did not feel an emotion, as he had felt with every other sight. The shadow seemed to have glowing words crawling through it, and as it flowed over the ground, the shadow left a trail as much as a snail would. The boy was uncertain as to whether the trail was actually liquid or if it was solid. It twinkled and glittered in the light as the shadow’s worms did and the boy was afraid of it. A feeling grew about this shadow. It was a respectful fear, the fear one feels for something more powerful and totally omniscient.

At first, he thought the shadow was unaware of his presence and he felt vastly relieved. It could come to no harm if it ignored him. Then a voice asked, “What are you doing in this land. It is not your land.”

The boy shrunk down as though he had been slapped and shielded himself for the next blow. His eyes filled with intense terror, and hands flew up to cover his face.

The deep echoing voice repeated the question once more. There was no inflection different than those that had been in his voice when he asked the first question. The first tone of voice was the most terrifying the boy had ever experienced; though it quivered as the voice of a very old man, it was deep and seemed to have been spoken from every direction and angle possible. The voice seemed knife-like, cutting all around it; feeling the strongest man and topping the most intelligent. It seemed disdainful, as though this ere but a trivial manner, though its voice portrayed emotion not felt in apathy. It totally felled the boy.

He did not answer. He squatted down on his knees, shaking uncontrollably. It was only because it was impossible for him to move his muscles, even to fall that he did not slip and sit down on the ash-like ground. His muscles were paralyzed by his fear and sock and in hearing this voice and feeling himself reduced to such a size.

“This is the dark lands,” informed the shadow, its voice still the same, but with more of a matter-of-fact tone in it. This tone did produce the apathetic feeling about the words that the other had lacked.

The boy remained silent, afraid to move or speak for fear he would find it was actually happening.

“You are from Shan’s World.”

It isn’t happening, thought the boy desperately. This isn’t real at all. I am at home asleep and other will soon awaken me. It isn’t real. I am asleep and this is a terrible dream. I want to wake up soon.

Another part of him, though, refused to allow him to escape through this It is happening, it said. You denied the path and the safety it gave you. This is happening and you’d better say something or it will become worse.

However, the boy compromised the two forces. He believed that it was real and actually happening, but did not speak to find out if he could.

Then you must suffer punishment for trespassing and spying,” said the voice.

The boy tensed his body waiting the terrible torture that would follow those -matter-of-fact words.

Shan and his army of Anders and Huys flew in silence. When they passed the border of the dark lands, all of them tensed their bodies.

“Believe only what you know to be true, nothing else,” Shan warned. “If any of you are unsure of yourselves leave now, before you will have no chance and will probably kill all of us.”

“your life depends upon your belief in yourself and your abilities,” Rewx added.

One of the Huys looked hesitant and admitted that the was unsure. Shan said, “thank you. You’ve probably saved some lives. Anyone else?” Either no one else was uncertain of themselves or no others could admit it. The hesitant one left alone.

Crossing into the dark lands was a traumatic experience for them. For the short time through the wall, it felt as though their bodies were being changed into atoms and scattered through space. It was an overwhelming feeling and they tried to grasp the atos as they left and hold themselves together. Inside the wall there was nothing. This was not the darkness of blindness, but absolutely nothing. It wasn’t silence or noise, color or lack of it, emotion, or apathy. It was nothing. It was like existing without being at all, and they were unaware of anything around them. They could see nothing, could hear nothing, new nothing, and thought nothing. It was almost like not being at all.

The wall had been an experience none would like to repeat, hut the dark lands were worse. Their first view of the dark lands was blackness, pure blackness. Nothing could be seen but this color, and while the wall had been nothingness, this was a more terrifying kind of blindness because they knew something was there. It haunted and blinded those from Shan’s World, because they knew that they weren’t seeing the dark lands and didn’t know what the dark lands were really like. They felt as though they were in a room with a two-way mirror, and while they couldn’t see beyond themselves, others could ese them. Shan suppressed the desire to look over his shoulder and see what was behind him.

“Shan, this is going to get us all killed and that won’t help the boy at all!” Rewx exclaimed. “Why don’t we all return and plan some action.”

“The boy will be dead by that time,” Shan said panting. “It’s got to be now. This is made by the dark lord and if we ignore it and admit that it isn’t here perhaps we can see past this illusion. He is trying to create in us a fear that will overcome. Sing! Everyone, sing!”

They sang a soft song often heard in the forest of the angels and felt better for it. It was a happy song and one that reminded them of home. For both of those reasons, it was appreciated.

“Look! They’re attacking!” someone screamed, pointing to their right Panic ensued. All the Anders and Huys seeing the attacking army from all directions. Each tried to react to different things and it became struggle against each other.

“There is no army!” Shan cried. “Stop it! There are only trees and skies! Look, see the trees and the skies above you? The colors! There are no creatures attacking you!”

Gradually they got into formation once more, and proceeded to fly on. However, it was a more subdued frightened group that continued. They had experienced the dark lord’s power and felt fear of that power. It was stronger than they were and could cause strange reactions in them.

“Where are we going, Shan? Can you tell in this darkness?” Rewx asked.

I can’t see where I ‘m going but I’m mind-searching for the boy and I am only looking for him – mothing else.”

“You’ll get more, Shan. You’ll get a fight from the dark lord. Do you actually think he would keep the boy or have any reason to if he didn’t know that you’d be here to save him? All he wants is you – the boy doesn’t even matter!”

“I must get the boy.”

“Shan, if it were Poggii or one of the others, would you still risk your life and all of ours to save them?”

“I sent the boy in her, Rewx, and I must get him out.”

“The dark lord will retaliate.”

“I’m doing what I must.”

“Shan, it could mean constant conflict between Shan’s World and the dark lands”

“I am responsible for the boy. I am responsible for anyone I send into the dark lands or any other dangerous 0lace by my powers. I must get the boy and I must get him before it’s too late.

“Shan, we’ve got to go back. We’ll all be killed and Shan’s World will be in the hands of the dark lord. The boy is probably dead already. If you die Shan’s World will die with you. Can you really risk all of that Shan, for one person?”

“I must,” Shan said steadily, but inwardly he wavered. He knew Rewx was right when he first heard the words, but felt he needed more convincing, just to be certain.

“Shan, you were appointed guardian of this world. I would say you have done a poor job if you allow yourself to bring Shan’s World to its death and that’s what you’re doing, Shan! @Will you risk that?”

Shan paused slightly before he sighed and said, “Alright. Let’s go back.”

What will happen the to the boy? He wondered as they flew back to the safety of Shan’s World.

The boy had felt distinct emotions up to this point. He had actually known the fear, horror, helplessness, and isolation, and only one thing occurred at a time, for the most part. Now, though, he was to feel bewildering uncertain shadows of emotions. The uncertainty itself would haunt him and cause more intense fear.

He still laid upon the ground after the shadow departed. He quivered as he waited the results of the shadow’s foreboding warning. Now when he looked around there were only charred stumps of trees and ashes that seemed to blame him for their destruction. While it made him depressed and uneasy, this did not actually frighten the boy.

Suddenly, though, from all around their burse pictures of terrifying magnitude. All at once, trains would rush towards him, colors flash and blind him rocks would burl his way, and waves would build to land upon him. He saw all these at once and could fight none. He felt himself flying and he felt himself drowning. At the same time, he was safely between the sheets of his bed and a train was rushing towards him. The boy stared at these and felt all of them without truly seeing or feeling any. They came at once and he could get no clear view of any of them. Only their fear remained to haunt him. He felt burning within a fire of intense heat, and freezing in ice, at the same time he was flying feely in the air and falling toward heart. He loved and hated as he felt safe and dying.

Desperately the boy closed his eyes, fighting the images and found them still continuing. He grabbed himself to keep from falling, pushed upward in fear of drowning. His muscles received conflicting commands from his brain and the brain itself received conflicting messages. As a result of this inner confusion, the boy passed out, his brain unable to continue to control itself.

13.   Chapter Thirteen p. 221

Shan paced the grounds impatiently, torn between the fact that he knew it would be foolish to venture into the dark lands and the knowledge of what was happening to the boy. Repeatedly, he told himself, that he had not asked the boy to stay in Shan’s World and had done his best to keep the boy out. However, it was he that had called the boy in Shan’s World in the first place and he was the one responsible for sending the boy into the dark lands when the boy made the foolish wish. It was an accident that caused the boy to be within the dark lands, but it as an accident caused by Shan and Shan felt the weight of this responsibility.

“Rewx,” thought Shan. “Rewx come here.”

It was almost five minutes before the Ander stood beside him on his two bird-like legs. His great wings were folded carefully at his side. “I am here, Shan,” he stated unnecessarily. “I suppose you want to return to the dark lands.”

“you know me too well,” Shan said grimly. “Yes, I have decided to return.”

“Shan,” Rewx said, his voice very serious, “we will go along with you and if all of us but two are killed, those two will fight with you until they’re dead also. However, we don’t believe that you are right to do this. You are risking Shan’s World for one boy.”

“No,” Shan said slowly. “It’s more selfish than that. I’m doing it because I must, not because the boy must be saved.”

“You feel yourself more important than Shan’s World?”

“I feel that this is the only way I can save Shan’s World, because the dark lord doesn’t care for the boy. I know what he wants, and so do you. If I don’t accept this challenge, then the dark lord might make known his wishes in a more violent method.”

“Shan, you might be wrong and so might I. The dark lord might feel no desire for conflict at all.”

“I must get the boy. If you are right, then there’s nothing to worry about,” Shan said, “however, if you are wrong, both of us will be worrying much. In either case, will have to go no.”

The fleet took off a second time, and mere darkness couldn’t stop them now. They knew that this time they would get the boy, no matter what obstacles were placed before them. They would get the boy or die.

Buiji, an Ander, that Shan had placed by the dark lands to see if the boy could possibly return was surprised when he saw them coming. “Shan! I thought you were going to stay in Shan’s World! What are you doing here? You aren’t going in? Don’t go in again!”

“I am going, Buiji. You can come with us or stay as you like. I am forcing no one either way. All those behind me have agreed to come with no urging. With or without your support, my friend, I am going.”

“I am with you,” Buiji assured him. “If you are going, I will follow but it is easier I would breathe if you were not going.” He looked amongst those who would come. “Isn’t Rewx with you?” I couldn’t believe that he would allow you to go alone!”

“I am here,” said Rewx. Join us, Buiji, we must fly to victory!”

“Or to death!” chimed in another strange voice. It came from the Dark Lands and represented the entire land.

The Anders are brave creatures, so are the Huys. Nothing would make them run from Shan once they had pledged their allegiance to hi, though now they shivered uncomfortably and someone far back in the crowd moaned softly. Even Rewx gave an uncomfortable twist of his body which surprised Shan greatly, for it was an ungraceful movement. They were a superstitious crowd and that voice probably represented something for them. He, himself, had felt a quiver run up his back and he was not superstitious in the least. Even if he had been, he had less reason to fear than they. Shan knew the creator and the dark lands could be no eviler than he, for he had created the evil the lands form his own.

“Death to you!” cried another in the dark lands. “Death to Shan’s World! The dark lands shall reign!”

Shan hurried through the wall ahead of the others. Like a weight crushing him, the depression in the land hit him. It became hard to even hold ups his head, for the general feelings here seemed to push him towards the ground, so heavy were the emotions. He beat his mighty wings steadily to remain in the air until the others passed the boarder and the weight of the land was distributed among them also. Though most of the weight still remained on Shan, he had the support of the others while they were in the dark lands and the load seemed much lighter.

After awhile, Shan picked up the vibration of the boy. “We’re over the castle of the dark lord,” he whispered to the Ander beside him. The whisper echoed and echoed. Over and over he heard it repeated, and for the first time Shan of Shan’s World knew what it was to feel fear, though he was uncertain as to the source of his fear. He longed desperately to communicate with Rewx but was now aware that every spoken word would echo until everyone in the dark lands heard it and that would ruin everything. With a dryness in his mouth, Shan realized that everyone in the dark lands knew where they were now. It was useless to try to hide any longer. “Attack!” he yelled, uncertain exactly what they were to attack or how to do it, but hoping that the dark lord would provide his needed knowledge. That single word echoed throughout the dark lands like a curse falling upon them.

Shan began the attack by swooping towards the Dark Lord’s castle at an amazing speed. The others followed as quickly as they could, though no one was certain what they were supposed to do. Though they could see nothing, and were blind, none of them would allow Shan to go into the danger alone. All followed, frightened and unsure.

Their uncertainty, though, was soon banished because the dark lord did not wait long to react. Thousands of small crow-like birds flew at the Anders. The birds screamed in high pitched voices as they tore at Shan and his fighters. Their small wings beat the air like hummingbirds, and often those wings hit Shan’s warriors, causing great pain, as they were equipped with poisoned talons. Many Anders and Huys were to suffer due to those wings, and many more from the pointed fangs that ripped off the skin and feathers as if it was just paper. However, the Anders, and the Huys were not the type of creatures to ever give up for something such as pain, and they did not succumb to the terror that filled them. Though not equipped as fighters, like the Dark Lord’s crows were, there was much power in the talons of the Huys; power enough to choke any crow unfortunate enough to get trapped in their strong grasp. The Anders used the combination of their beaks and their talons to fight. They would grab the crows with their talons, and peck with the strength of a woodpecker at the creatures. Both parties suffered then.
The majority of the crows had at tacked Shan, however and that was in vain. His steel-like scales protected him from their fangs and wings, and he refused to let them disturb him when they flutter about him emitting loud, frightening screams. He just flew on, preparing himself

to confront the Dark Lord himself.

However, the Dark Lord was not going to allow that to happen with such ease. He sent out another flock of fighters.

These were almost the same thing as the crows, but the size had increased and they flew silently, without the ear-piercing screams of the other crows. Somehow the silence made them seem more menacing and dangerous. The larger crows were also able to carry strong, sturdy spears with the ability to instantly poison and kill anyone who was even slightly pricked by their dangerous points. Directly to Shan they flew, their spears ready to be laughed. Again, and again the beat upon his scales and tried to find flesh to stick the spear into. Shan felt a little fear, for he knew here he was vulnerable, if the dark lord knew, though, the Anders would already have been without a leader.

“Shan of Shan’s World,” beamed a loud voice. Instantly all action ended. In mid-air the birds stopped. In the process of biting one Ander, a crow stopped. The voice didn’t tremor but seemed to make the entire land tremble with fear. “You have entered my lands with the intention of harming me and my subjects. State your reason, Wiope of the dark lands,” Shan called back, his voice not so terrifying but with a command of strength and expectation of obedience. “You are holding one of my subjects. Release him and we shall retreat, with no further damage done upon your lands. Refused and we will continue to destroy the dark lands even after getting the boy back. Refuse, and we shall continue,” he repeated, his voice ringing out louder. “Only when you are dead and your lands released to freedom will we cease our destruction.

The dark lord was silent for a moment. Finally, in a quiet controlled voice, “he asked, “Shan, are you declaring war.”

The word hit Shan like a slap in the face. “No,” he said. “I am not declaring war. I merely want the boy back tin order to avoid a war.”

“Never, Shan, shall the dark lord bow to your waists. Let this be WAR! I will never return the boy to you and you will not give up. Therefore, as of this moment in time, the dark lord of the dark lands declares war upon Shan of Shan’s World!”

Among both parties, gasps were heard. Fear shone in the eyes of all that had suspended themselves in mid-air when the dark lord’s words were spoken. For the first time in the creators’ creation there was war. In fact, until the word was actually spoken it meant nothing, except to those of the other world. And now it spread to the place all people had considered peace and happiness. Shan’s World was going to war.

Tears would have streamed down Shan’s face had he had the ability to cry. He had known the word “war” but never in his life had he applied it to Shan’s World or ever considered such a thing happening. It had not been created for such purpose. Shan’s World and that dark land had existed side by side for thousands of years and now they were going to war. He raised his magnificent head and looked off in the distance, but his eyes were definitely focused upon something. “Weipo of the dark lands, I refuse your challenge. The life of one boy is not worth the destruction of all that Shan’s World is. Perhaps someday we may be forced into war to decide once and all exactly who this world was created for, however, it is possible that we might never need it. It is possible that the creator shall inform us in some way if we don’t hasten to destroy everything that he created. Both of our worlds are hear for a purpose, though I do not know the reason for the Dark Lands, and if I did, I probably would not understand it. I am only Shan. If our world was created by the creator, then it is possible that it benefits someone somewhere. It is not for me to question the existence of the dark land, but I am qualified to say that I do not believe we have the right to destroy that which is made by our creator. I refuse to go to war with you, Weiuro, of the dark lands.”

“A fine speech saying nothing,” commented the dark lord his voice rumbling like thunder pounding down a valley. “You will not accept my challenge because you know that we of the dark lands are stronger and have been endowed by the creator. You are all cowards. Shan of Shan’s World, I am not asking that you wage war with me; I am telling you that we are going to war. I shall attack you and force you to defend yourself. The time has come for me to prove the dark lands. I shall wipe you out with the ease of stepping on small insects, even though you realize that you must defend yourself if you are going to survive at all. Shan, you will lose, of course, but you will put up a small fight. The fight a corned rat gives a cat.”

“Sometimes the teeth of a rat can cut deeply and hurt the cat seriously,” Shan reminded him. And the cat will run where he will be cornered. However, it will not be by me, Weiupo of the Dark Lands. I shall never corner you, for we are not fighting people. I shall do only what I am able to do. I shall call upon the justice of the Creator and defend myself until his justice is administered.” His voice carried such strength courage and confidence that many of the Dark Creatures felt chills run up their own~ backs. Perhaps, they were not going to winthis war, as their master had assured them. Was it not possible that the Shan of Shan’s World had a great power they did not know about?

Their fears were alleviated when the Dark Lord guffawed loudly. It was not like thunder. It was like the cracks of a thousand whips altogether, and made the creatures A, Shan’s World flinch almost as if those whips had come in contact with them. 11You are not right, Shan. Only one of us is meant to survive, and only one of us shall. That will be the Dark Lands. Why else were we equipped with strength and weapons? So that we could be the victors in the war that we are going to wage right now, of course. The only reason you were created was to prove our strength to the Creator and let him see us fighting. It is to prove our courage and our strength. We shall win, Shan because we were meant to.”

Page 229

Shan was silent. His colors were flashing brighter than they ever had before. If one were to look in his eyes, he would see a fire raging there. In his massive body one would see such strength and confidence as was heard in the Dark lord’s voice. In his eyes would be the needed courage, and the anger to add to that strength. Also, there was a deep sadness emitting from every part of him, as though something very near and dear to him had been destroyed.

Shan was not thinking of the boy. There was nothing he could do to help the boy, or nothing he cared about at that moment. He was visualizing the peace that had been in the lands, and trying to see it as a war-torn land. He did not like the vision. Shan was so aware that this shouldn’t be happening in Shan’s World. It wasn’t right. It did not belong in Shan’s World. War was reserved for the other world, not Shan’s World and the creator’s lands. He closed his eyes and tried to hide himself from what was happening. It didn’t work. All he could visualize was the creator’s forest falling in a raging fire and Shan’s forest becoming dull with the hatred that suddenly filled it. In fact, Shan’s World would become totally dull. With happiness taken from it, it would give no happiness or good feelings to anyone.

“Shan agrees with me, see land! He does not speak. I shall give you the boy, Shan for his work is done. He has drawn you here for me to properly declare war upon you. Goodbye, Shan. Prepare yourself. I give you one week for you and Shan’s World to prepare to be destroyed.” He laughed, his laughter fading away as Shan felt his presence leave.

The boy found himself lying on the ground with Shan flying above him. He looked at the creature in the air with fear. They can’t do that, he thought. Oh, please don’t see Shan. He isn’t here. Don’t. He’s not there! “No,” he said softly. “No. No. No! No! No1”

Someone beside him moaned.

The boy is down there, one of the creatures in the air said to Shan.

The boy could not see Shan’s eyes leaping with fire and anger. “What do I care of one little boy from the other word when Shan’s World is going to be destroyed and thousands of my people will be homeless, hurt and dying!” he shouted. “their whole world will be destroyed and I’m supposed to care about some boy?”

As much as the words hurt the boy, the thoughts that San was actually thinking would have hurt him more. He was thinking it was the boy’s fault that this was happening. Not specifically the boy’s fault, but certainly the fault of those that were his kind. War is conflict and conflict began when those form the other world entered Shan’s World. They were the first people to break away from the map charted by the creator, and now the dark lord was following, causing Shan’s World to be forced from familiar roads. The future was uncertain for the first time since Shan could remember. That fact hurt him. It hurt him more than the pain caused the creatures laying below him to write in pain. The future was uncertain.

Shan swooped down and let the silent boy climb upon his back. Though he did know of the war, the boy felt that something terrifying and terrible was about to happen, and that it was reality rather than the illusion of the dark lands. He knew that Shan’s World was in grave danger, and did not talk during the tense minutes that followed Shan’s world

“Return to Shan’s World,” Shan said, his voice lacking the usual spirit. “This battle shall continue.” “Shall continue… Shall continue…” the words range within his head. How long shall it continue? He wondered. It could continue forever.

\Shan dropped the boy off in the creator’s forest after the Anders and Huys had left. Nether the boy nor he spoke.

The boy watched Shan disappear and stood staring at the sky long after he had. What had happened while he was in the dark lands? He wondered. Shan had been in the land, he knew that because he was there when he regained consciousness and so was Shan. Moaning. He had heard someone moaning, but he hadn’t looked. “this battle shall continue.” Battle? Was there a fight? And if it should continue then…

But the boy couldn’t follow that reasoning. Its conclusion could never be in Shan’s World. It was a concept too large for his brain to comprehend. Shan’s World was not a world of war, he assured himself when the belief in his conclusion withstood this inability to grasp the vastness of the word. It would never happen here! Shan’s World was a world of dreams, where everything was just perfect. War was not a dream. It was a nightmare. Shan’s World doesn’t provide those.

He had completely assured himself of the falseness of that conclusion by the time that Poggii came out of the trees and that gave reason for more assurance. It was the first time the boy had ever seen him unhappy; Poggii had always grumbled a lot but never known true unhappiness. Now in his eyes, there was only uncomprehending fear. “Have you heard the news?’ he asked looking up at the boy. His eyes were those of a child, begging someone to tell him what caused the pain he felt.

“What news?” asked the boy carefully.

“The dark lord has declared war on Shan’s World,” his friend replied slowly, as though trying to taste each bitter, frightening word. “War! Shan’s World is going to war! Why must we live to see our lands crumble beneath us?”

“It can’t go to war!” cried the bewildered boy. “Not Shan’s World. There’s no way for it to fight!” He remembered san’s words: “thousands of my people hurt, homes and dying!” Dying. Death in Shan’s World. He remembered the pictures of war that he had seen in his world. Young men lying bleeding and dying, crying for mercy as they suffered. He thought of the creatures groaning and dying upon the grounds in the dark lands. Could Shan’s word really cause that? Could Shan’s World really become a ground for war?
‘We are going to war, the equally bewildered Poggii repeated. “Do you understand what war is? Do you know what it is?”

“Yes,” said the boy slowly. “I’ve seen pictures and heard about it. It’s destruction and murder.”

“Why?” cried Poggii. “What for? No one wants War!”

“I don’t know, the boy said. I only know that if Shan’s World becomes like that I’m going home!”

Poggii would have thought the boy a coward for that remark had he not been so deeply engrossed in the concept of war. He was forced to fight this war for he had no place to run, But Poggii would have anyway. He often made idle wishes and thought negative thoughts, but Shan’s World was his home and he loved it deeply. He would fight for this land with all he had in him. The boy was a coward not to fight for that which he loved, just to thank it for the love it allowed him to give.

However, Poggii was not thinking about the boy’s remark. “You mean our forests could be destroyed?” he asked. “the angels in the forest of angels killed?”

The boy nodded solemnly. “We’d be worse than the dull forest.

Poggii had the look on his face of one who cannot comprehend the information he was being told. He could not imagine such a thing happening to the world he had always known. It was beyond him and his capacities. He knew that he war would change his world and that it would be different than the world he had known, but he could visualize the change. Without something to contrast and compare it with, Poggii could see nothing but Shan’s World as it was now and life as it was now. He tried to see an endless dull forest, but the visions of all the other forests in Shan’s World rose unbidden before his eyes, and he could not imagine life without them.
Dull forest,” he repeated slowly. “Shan’s World is a doll forest. But what happens to the forests we have now? What about our forests and all the others?”

“They may be destroyed,” the boy replied all emotion drained from him. He felt as though he were enacting a pay. Nothing was real. “Just flattened and ruined. Change their names to the Forest of Destruction, the forest of doom, the dead forest, etc. etc.”

“No!” cried Poggii w, those names bringing a hazy picture into his mind. “No! It will not happen! It cannot happen! There is no such place as the forest of doom, the forest of destruction or the dead forest! There are no such places! There never will be! “Tears blinded the poor creature and terror filled his mind. His world and the life he knew was crumbling beneath him and he could not accept it.

The boy said nothing.

14.    Chapter Fourteen p 235

A search conducted tonight had failed to bring up any inclusive fact except that Kevin was missing and his whereabouts unknown. The two policemen first sent for multiplied to 4 and 5. At 130 the search was suspended until morning

“Keith, what if… “Amy began.

He interrupted firmly. “We’ll find the boy and… well, we’ll find him before we worry about that. someone gave us these.” He handed her a sleeping pill. Take one and let’s try to sleep there’s nothing we can do to help Kevin now period end quote Emotionally and physically exhausted the two fell into a restless sleep with the help of sleeping pills.

From six thirty until eight o’clock they looked again for Kevin, but it seemed that every possible place had already been searched. Or immediate neighborhood that hadn’t been thoroughly explored and checked.

We got to go to the hospital and check on stuffy” Keith said firmly to Amy. “The police will find Kevin, and we aren’t helping anyone right now”

She shook her head. “I don’t think they will find him.” Then she looked up at him, her face resolute, “but let’s go see Stephanie.”

“Local Boy missing!” shouted the newspaper

As a pass to stand to go to the hospital

“Hello, Stephie,” Keith said, smiling as he entered her room. “How are you? Today? Did you live through the night?”  His cheerful manner was not convincing.

“Is Kevin missing?” she demanded.

Keith sighed. “Where’d you hear that?” asked Aimie slowly and carefully.

“Some of the nurses were talking about it,” she said, is he?

Keith sighed again. The smile. Gone. Yes, he said

“Why?” Stephie asked.

“Stephanie, we don’t know!” Aimie cried. “Please honey, let’s talk about something else.”

“We can’t stay long, Stephie,” Keith added.

“Where did he go?” she asked.

He’s missing,” Keith reminded her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” She brushed that away. “Has he been kidnapped?”

“No, Stephanie!” Aimie explained. “I don’t want to talk about it now. They’re going to move you into the ward with the other children. How do you like that?’

“When do I get to go home.”

“Tomorrow, probably but I would think it would be better in two days.”

“Why?”

“Just until Kevin is found, Stephanie.”

“Why?”

“Because it will be easier!”

“Stephanie, we’ve got to go now and we’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Bring Kevin, she suggested.

They didn’t replay.

24 hours. After Terry’s phone call, Kevin still hadn’t been found. Larger newspapers picked up the stories, and the neighborhood was swarming with reporters, police, and curious neighbors. Amy and Kevin sat in their bedroom talking. Neither could remember what they spoke of later., but the sound of their voices, the reaching out vocally, was what mattered. New. Line,

Finally. They returned to the hospital and sat with Stephanie, praying that a nurse would come furring in saying “there’s a phone call for you. They found your little boy… “but the phone at the desk was silent.

For once, the Dark Lord was true to his word. He did not attack Shan’s World for one week, as he had promised. Shan spent the week trying to find out what type of creatures were capable of fighting at all and trying to prepare the peaceful people of his world. But the disaster that was about to occur in their perfect world. He only saw a puzzled incomprehension on their faces, though. Shan could not blame them, for he also could only feel a slight understanding of what war was, and even less of an understanding of what war could do to Shan’s World. Only the boy could truly understand, but he could make none of them. Not even Shan.

For the first time in his life. Shan felt. Unsure and bewildered. he had created to be Shan of Shan’s World, but had never been prepared for anything like this, this was not supposed to happen. he did not know quite what to do. He tried to get recruits, but wasn’t absolutely certain what he was looking for. When he tried to teach some of them things, they. Might need to know he was aware of his own ignorance. N

When. He tried to explain that they would be expected to kill the servants of the Dark Lord, they only looked at him with that same uncomprehending, comprehending gaze that he met with so often. “kill?” they asked “you mean deliberately take the life of someone? But why? why, Shan? “And once more, Shan would try to answer the question, though he did not understand or know the answer either. Why? He repeated to himself. Why?? He could find no answer, except that they must defend their lands. And why must we defend our lands? He wondered. What is it that makes the Dark Lord need to fight and force me to defend Shan’s World? Why could it not have remained as before? Bewildered the questions repeated themselves in Shan’s mind.

The. Attack came swiftly when it came. The beautiful, reddish, golden, pinkish, and bluish sky was suddenly clouded with thousands of black figures. A loud screaming, like those of the crows., was heard. But these creatures definitely were not crows. They were the real fighters. The crows had only been meant to show Shan some of the strength. Here were the real warriors of the dark lands.

Shan quickly called together his. “army” consisting of several hundred birds and other creatures with the ability to fly, several hundred more were limited to the ground. Although. Shan had about 1000 creatures in his army., none of them knew anything about fighting or killing or war.

However., They all learned quickly and. At first the dark creatures had no prompts at all in slaughtering Shan’s army, but then the others caught on to the fact that these creatures were really trying to kill them. Anger, a little known thing, flared wildly. Looked at their slain friends. And began to use the weapons that they had not known they had. Clause, beaks, wings, tails and all their strength went into the attack.

 The fact. That they did attack gave them the advantage of surprise. After meeting the creatures that allowed themselves to be killed so freely, the dark creatures were startled by the sudden attack. Before long, they fled, However, no more than 100 of their army lay writhing on the ground, crying in agony. And more than half of Shaun’s army lay there. Half of them were dying or dead. Period of decline. Shan looked down at them after the Dark Lord’s army had fled. There was a look on his face that none had ever seen before, such a sadness seemed to come from deep within. It was as though every moon was a sword pricking deep within him.

It was as though everybody there caused a little bit of Shan to die. From looking at them, Shan flew upwards, higher than he had ever before dared to go. He looked at the glimmer of color he could see from that height. It felt as though he were the size of an ant surrounding. My brilliant emeralds. But emeralds can be broken, he thought, they can also be destroyed. Shan’s World was an emerald, and it was being destroyed as he watched. He looked at those below once more. Yes, it was being destroyed. Each of his friends down there were helping to destroy it due to the Dark Lord. The sorrow that they caused to Shan’s World was going to cause its ruin, Shan knew. Why is it happening? He wondered, for the millionth time. Why are these people dying? What is it that they are dying for? They’re dying for Shan’s World. Shan answered himself, but why should they die for something that died the moment the word war was spoken? Why had the Dark Lord forced this upon peaceful people? Shan wondered, bewildered and confused. Slowly, he floated downward and could see clear the destruction.

“Shan, we must fight for peace” said Rue in a compassionate, understanding voice. He had known Shan for too long not to know what he was thinking, even at a time when the entire thoughts of everyone had to change to fit the Times.

“But why? Asked Shan. Period, to others who would not have allowed his doubts and feelings to be known. But Rewx was different.; He knew them anyway. perhaps together, the two of them could find the answer. But Shan knew he would never be able to understand the reason.

“Why must we fight for peace? Why can’t there be the same piece that we’ve always had? What was wrong with our lands the way they used to be, Rewx? Why must we fight? I cannot understand why the Dark Lord is forcing this war upon us.”

“no one knows what the Dark Lord is seeking, close. Quote. Rewx said softly. “I do not believe that he even knows. He is looking for something he cannot find. And this is an attempt to find it. I don’t think he’ll find it, Shan, but he’ll never stop seeking. He’ll look forever. And if something happens to him, then others will pick up his search. Once there’s been one war, it will not stop. I know it is never stopped in the boy’s world. It will not be different here. Perhaps someday they will find what they are looking for. End quote,

“What is it he is looking for? What is it that is so important? He must destroy all that is beautiful, all that is wonderful? Why, Rewx? Why? I shall never understand him or his kind!” Shan exclaimed, his feelings of mixture of wonder bewilderment and sorrow.

“I do not know. It is impossible to know. I believe it is a restless soul searching for the unknown. I do not know, but we shall have to fight until we have no more to fight with. Then be merciful and kill all of us. For the boy in his kind, there will be no death in Shan’s World. I pity them, for I would prefer to be dead than under the rule of the Dark Lord”

“We are going to ever go under his rule!” Proclaimed Shan, his voice rising strong as it had not been for some time. It was not without its false note that had become so familiar. He had had trouble saying things he did not understand. This he did understand. This he was determined about. He could never come on. Come what may come. Allow Shan’s World to fall under the rule of the Dark Lord. All our lives shall be given, all our strength, and I will never give up. I will not let my people be slaves for him. They will fight if that is our threat.”

“Shan” said Rewx softly and gently “you understand that there might not be anything left of Shan’s World worth fighting for, don’t you? The destruction is already begun. It will not stop now. Shan’s World as we know it has already been destroyed. Release it, Shan, don’t hold on to a forgotten pass”

Shan turned on his friend’s eyes. Flashing with anger “Release it!” He snorted “Forget it? Rewx, never! I cannot release something that is all I have to grasp.! I cannot give up all that I have and all that anyone in Shan’s World has! Oh, No. I don’t dare release it, even if it becomes a dullest of all forests in all worlds. I will still fight for what it was in the past” His voice had lost its rage and taken on a quiet strength. “I know I will be fighting for a lost dream, but it is not better to. Fight for a lost dream than not to fight at all, and allow what might be a good future to be stifled under the clutch of a madman.? I shall call upon everyone in Shan’s World to fight for what has already been destroyed. I will not allow the past to be forgotten. If I did that, Shan’s World would be forgotten. And then we might as well be dead as alive?

“you are right” Rewx admitted. “but the past will never be again”

” I cannot fight for the future because I cannot envision it, and I must bite. By fighting now for the past, I will ensure that there is some future”

Attack after attack. Fight after fight. Deaths after deaths. Still, Shan’s World hung on and fought. They mourned their debt during battle, send emotions raging against the enemy. They fought a battle that gave the Dark Lord some apprehension and some comprehension of just how much he could expect from Shan’s World that he had not expected. What Shan’s World became angry, and some inhabitants joined the army to burn off their anger, the dark armies began to feel fear. After each battle, it took less to get the dark armies to flee. It was even to Shan’s surprise when the inhabitants of his peaceful land showed that they could really fight and win. They proved that the Dark Lord and Shan had both underestimated them

But Shan was aware that the fact that Shan’s World could fight only made it a war more likely in the future. He almost wished it was more difficult for the people to fight, because then they would not feel confident enough to stir the ashes that would be left by this particular war. As it was, they were beating the dark lord and he feared that they? Might decide to do more than just caught chase him from their lands. Shan wanted to get the war over forever, and let Shan’s World never experience such a thing again. However, he knew that having tasted of victory once in their mouths, they would crave it again and again.

The Dark Lord would crape revenge. He would make the dark lands rear up to defend their pride. Shan knew that war had come to stay, and it sickened him. He almost wished that he was able to hide himself from the facts. Shan was such that he could not do that, and he knew it. what was truth was truth. It sickened him, and never ceased to hurt, that he was aware that his peaceful people would go to war again, and probably many more times. It would be a continual battle against the dark lands, and once they were destroyed, if they ever were to be, it would be something else; probably divorced themselves. Before there had been a war, there had been no reason to fight. The war itself gave reason and his people would need war now. N

They did win this battle of the war. The Dark Lord signed a truce, But Shan was aware the word of the Dark Lord lasted only as long as he wanted it to last. Period, to him, it was just a piece of paper, But Shan had been forced to sign the true treaty because it was only hope Up ending the war without total destruction. He knew that it would not end the war, but only postponement. Once the Dark Lord was ready, war would rage in Shan’s World once more. However, it served to give hope. And it showed his people that he was willing to try any possible way for peace.

The unsteady piece was worse than the war, though. there were not consistent reports of battles, defeats, deaths, and suffering. But now no one was safe. Everyone. Who stepped from the safety of the security they lived in was in danger. Fires began in the forests and as much destruction as before, if not more, was now reported from various parts of the world. During the war, the battle was reserved almost immediately, completely near the belt border of the dark forest and almost exclusively in the air. Now the attacks were often of separate people and on the ground. Shan admitted. Bitterly that he would rather have an open war, in which some of the deaths and pain could be retaliated against.

To the people of Shan’s World, it was almost a relief when the Dark Lord was seen gathering an army and Shan knew that he would now have to fight. “As soon as our lands are safe” Shan said, Opening his mind to the entire population. “we shall peace once more, but until then, we must fight. The Dark Lord is gathering troops once again, someday our lands will once again live in peace” He knew, he told his land’s lies, especially when they turned their bitter faces up to him. There was not one of them that had not been touched by this war. Their homes destroyed, sons and mates killed, and their peaceful life. Had now become a battle for survival. Shan could force himself to say no more. Lying as he had to them had hurt him enough, and he couldn’t lie anymore. He just couldn’t do it. Did they realize what had happened? He wondered, did they know that never again would they be living in the paradise they had lived in before? Did they know that their sons and daughters would never know the paradise they had known and the life they had struggled with now would be worse struggle for them? They were not strong people, for they had nothing to strengthen their muscles on. After sitting and laying down all their lives, they were asked to stand up and run. The turmoil that would be caused when people realized that their world had gone from the moment war had been declared. Would kill as many as war had.

15.   Chapter Fifteen

There were several small battles in the beginning. The 2^nd bout of the war. In one of the first of these battles, the boy was wounded. It was not serious, but in the dark land’s pain is magnified in the pain he experienced there sent his body into shock. For many days and weeks, he laid an invalid, and in great danger of the limbo between life and death and eternity, which occurred when one from the other world should truly die and couldn’t. However, finally, he was declared safe from this danger and spent many weeks listening to the sounds of war. And hearing reports of how badly it was faring. He. Longed to go out and help those who loved, but was unable to force his weak body to obey. In desperation, he was sent to the forest of the Angels in hopes that it would heal his wounds for all people from the other world were needed, because they had grown up with the concept of war and weapons. Even though few had actually ever fought.

The Forest of the Angels did not help him, though. The Angels sung their heartiest but the songs they sung were not those the boy heard when he went was first there. The happiness was still vibrating in the forest, but there seemed to be a synthetic quality to it. Perhaps the boy reflected it was he that had changed. But others he met in a forest comment on the same thing. Beneath the happy songs and general gaiety of the forest. There was an emotion of fear and sorrow felt throughout all of Shan’s World. No forest had remained the same.

Shan could rarely visit the boy in the forest to the Angels, but when he did, their conversations differed from those they had had previously. Shan came prepared to act cheerful and happy; as though nothing had changed, But the boy did not expect that.

“How do you like the? Forest of the Angels?” Shan asked after the greeting

“It’s different than it was” The boy said. “We are at war now and it feels it.”

“Everything is different” Shan replied “Yet perhaps it is only we that have changed. The war hasn’t changed the forests, Instead, it changed us and threw us there changed.” He sighed “we’re at war now. Yet, I wonder if we weren’t always at war and just unaware of it”

“war! Shan’s World was far from war. It was peaceful all over!” exclaimed the boy. “No place has known such peer peace. There was never before a war in Shan’s World.”

“And just what is peace, my friend.? Is it when there is no outward sign of war? End quote

“when there is no war, there is peace, said the boy.

“All right, you’ve told me what peace is not,” Shan agreed. “Peace is not war. But what is it? What is this thing? Shan’s world was so endowed with until it suddenly disappeared and was replaced by non-peace? Close. Quote,

The boy floundered in words and preconceptions. He now doubted. Finally, he said lamely, “Peace is harmony.”

“Then tell me how Shan’s World once had harmony, end quote, suggested Shan “when it abounded in conflict”

“no, it didn’t.” insisted the boy “there was no conflict at all. when I first came here, it was so peaceful. I remember walking under this shade of the trees and feeling caressed with love. It was so gentle, so harmonized. End quote”

You mean the surroundings were peaceful., asked Shan.

“Yes. Shan’s World was peaceful”

“Is Shan’s World. The surroundings?”

“Of course.”

“not the. People who make it up?” new line “No. No”

“Did the songs you heard come from the forest?”

“No!”

“then we aren’t talking about the forest. We’re talking about this war and the war is between people and fought by the people. Tell me, were you peaceful? End quote

“in Shan’s World? Yes”

Shan did not immediately contradict him “do you think most of the people felt peaceful here??”

Open. Quote, what I know of them, they did “said the boy. He felt on the defensive and didn’t like that. if he knew what Shan was leading, this conversation towards, he would know how to answer him without that persistent feeling of doubt.

“We’re the people happy, my friend?”

The boy thought about the people in the city. They were happy. But a contradictory picture of those in the creator’s forest rose unbidden into his mind. They didn’t really represent Shan’s World anyway, the boy told himself, and he answered “yes.”

“no” contradicted Shan. “your friends in the forest were living at death. They didn’t know how to escape. They were aware of this death, though, and extremely unhappy.” He paused and eyed the boy carefully “You’re thinking of those in the city, though,” he commented.  “They were contented, but not really happy. They felt no true emotion, and therefore were dead.”

“They laughed!” cried the boy. “That is caused by an emotion of life!”

“Do they feel life? There is a reaction, as you laugh when someone tickles you. Nothing is funny, but your laughter is reflex. That is their life: a mass of conditioned reflexes. Machines within them told them when to laugh and cry by a program sheet inside their minds. Perhaps this war was for the best.”

“Shan, how can you say that? your world is being destroyed! Everything!”

Shan was depressed. “What did we have to say? I wonder if anger, hatred, and fear are better than apathy. I wonder if the destruction and deaths are not worth seeing some reaction in those people, and pulling them from their nests, forcing them to fly.”

The boys stared at his friend “time has passed since I first came here” he said, “And much has changed. Nothing though has changed more than you.”

“My friend, I have had to change to survive, as has Shan’s World. Only you remain the same, and you must change or fail to survive also. Shan’s World is still fighting, but we are fighting. You do not recognize the battle and shall thus perish.”

“I have fought in the war!” insisted the boy. “You are being unjust! You place me in this forest and would not allow me to return, and then blame me for not fighting.”

“That is not the war” stated Shan gently “I must leave now and shall return soon!”

“What is the war? Asked the boy

Shan shook his head. “I must leave.” He said “Goodbye.”

“Tell me.!” The boy pleaded, feeling a sudden urgency in the question “Tell me!”

Shan spread his wings and lifted himself from the ground

“Tell me!” The boy still cried as he disappeared from sight. “Shan, please tell me!” Silently, then, tears slipped down the boy’s face, falling upon the ground. Somehow, he knew the secret of this war lay in their earlier conversation of peace but it’s inability to grasp it frustrated him.

It was a long time before Shan was able to return. The battle still raged without either the dark lands or Shan’s World, showing much progress. The victories went back and forth, and meant little. No victory helped, no loss hurt. It was only one phase of the war that would last forever, no matter who won

So, Shan was depressed when he visited the boy. “how are you recuperating?” Shan asked, after mutually happy greetings

All happiness left the boy’s face. “Shan, I would like to go back and fight with you” he said. He’d been considering it for some time and knew that he had to do it. It was not helping him to be in the forest of the Angels, because just knowing he wasn’t helping Shan’s World fight, its war kept him his wound. From healing correctly. New life. “wait until you are entirely well” suggested Shan “Then you would be of the most help”

“you don’t understand” complained the boy. “I am not going to get entirely well here. It is not the same anymore. Do you feel totally happy? Could we have talked as much as. As we are now in this forest several months ago? No. And I would have been dancing with excitement. I’m not, and I spent the entire day thinking of how different it is and wishing I could get out there to help you. I wonder what is happening to you and worry. Let me go out there and really be a part of it, Shan. Just do that little thing for me, and know that I’m doing this little thing to help Shan’s World. After all, this entire war is partly my fault.”

“What makes you think that?” asked Shan, wondering if the boy knew, as he did, how much responsible his people actually were.

“You often said that we of my world would eventually cause the destruction of Shan’s World. And, also, it was when I was caught that you came to save me, and you warned me never to make the foolish wish, which, of course I did. Thus, it was partly of not entirely my fault that this war is destroying the forest of the Angels and the people of Shan’s World and all the other forests also. I want to do at least a little thing to say that it was not deliberate.”

“You are not to blame, and neither am I. This war would have occurred anyway, my friend. It was inevitable that the dark lands in Shan’s World would feel competition and struggle. The creator should have foreseen such things, and allowed for them in some way. It was caused by insufficient planning.”

“If I had not stayed in Shan’s World, perhaps a war might have been postponed a year or 100 years,” the boy replied

“If you had not needed Shan’s World, you never would have come here,” Shan reminded him. “And if I had not liked you, you probably would not have come very often, despite your need. If you had not come often, you would not have wanted to stay. And if you had not wanted to stay in Shan’s World, you would not have. Naturally, if you had not stayed, then you would not be here right now. So who do we blame? You could blame me, because I sent you into the dark lands, and I could not keep you from denying the path. I might also be blamed because I admitted you into Shan’s World and allowed you to come also. I could blame you because you denied the path in your people upset the balance of Shan’s World. I could blame the Dark Lord and the creator also. But there is no blame to this war. It had to happen. It wouldn’t have mattered if it had been delayed a 100 years. Because Shan’s World will last forever. And 100 years is what a portion equal to less than a second in your world. The way the war happened is totally irrelevant because his not with war is all about anyway

“I still feel like I’m to blame in a way.”

“No one in Shan’s World is at fault. Even the Dark Lord can hardly be blamed, because it was perfectly natural for the two opposites to fight. You’re wrong to feel guilty about helping to cause the war, but I don’t think that’s what you feel guilty about anyway. I think you. Feel guilty about being here now and that you are even in Shan’s World during this catastrophe. You are. Guilty because this has happened to the world. You swore you would love forever, no matter what happened. You cannot bear it admit that your perfect world might really not be not so perfect after all. you cannot admit that maybe you have been wrong, and the great world you love has its faults. But, you see, you don’t love Shan’s World at all. my friend, you are in love with an image. A great unreality, like a mother who is certainly child, is absolutely perfect, and someday you are certain to be disillusioned. Then you would see the truth; a heart. Disappointment because you cannot love a dream or illusion without rejecting the base of that dream. You don’t love Shan’s World. True love sees and accepts the faults of those they love. You’re now seeing Shan’s World more realistically, and it hurts. It was better than your world in many ways, but nothing can be perfect, my friend. Nothing.” New. Line “I knew that Shan’s World wasn’t perfect!” Contradicted the boy

“No, you didn’t. I could quote you from any time and prove that you thought this world was absolutely perfect. You said as much in that word or another when you greeted me at the beginning of almost every visit. Well, look now at this world, with its destruction written upon everything, and tell me where you saw that perfection. It was not your fault, but you blame it on yourself. Your guilt is based on the end of your illusion, and the guilt is betraying that illusion by recognizing it. You’re guilty because the longing you see your family and home. You want that which is not an illusion, and which you might never have again. Your guilt is because of what you’ve done to your parents And family for a dream you could not reach period now. As we are fighting for the survival of Shan’s World, you are fighting for the survival of your illusion. As not a good reason to fight for an illusion is so easily destroyed. And then you could have nothing to fight for.”

“I would like to fight for the survival of Shan’s World” said the boy “After that,, I will drop my pursuit for the perfect world and wait only for the time to come when I am able to reunite with my family.”

“You cannot fight until your wounds are healed anyway,” Shan said “And when you do go back to fighting, I want you to be fighting for Shan’s World, not your dream. If you fight for it, you will never be allowed to let go of it. Just let the dream slip through your fingers and come back. Prepare to fight for Shan’s world, Not your perfect world.”

“I shall be back to fight for Shan’s World in one week,” the boy promised “and it shall be for the protection only of Shan’s World”

“Really?” asked Shan. “Or are you trying to convince yourself and me of that,?”

“I’m trying to convince everyone of that.. It is not easy to let a dream slip by.” They were silent for a time, and then the boy said, “When I leave Shan’s World, though, it was only an illusion. I will miss it very much.”

“It will miss you also, my friend.  The world will be happy that you are happy.”

They sat in silence and then the boy said slowly, “I might never leave Shan’s World, but I feel as though I am leaving it now.”

“The illusion is creeping away”

“I don’t want it to leave!” cried the boy impulsively.“ I like the illusion! I don’t want it to leave!” His eyes looked wildly frightened and his hands clutched each other “Shan, I liked it!”

“Look, you” said Shan, his voice hardening “there’s a world out there that is perishing. It is fighting to survive and many people are creating their own little world as you have done. They are creating perfection when wars tearing and ripping at the forest. Look around you, boy. That is reality. Reality isn’t the forest of the Angels with its singing voices and beauty. Reality is. Reality is the war and the millions of inhabitants dying. Reality is a dark Lord and its subjects. is also though the peaceful quiet and the creator’s forest reality isn’t bad but it has its bad parts. You must learn to accept that the bad goes with the good by creating. An illusion you miss the good and the bad and then when the illusion you’ve created disappears it. Is more difficult to see the good. Reality isn’t one thing, but it is all of light viewed together. Reality is life, and without reality, you are dead. N

“but reality. Isn’t necessary” the boy said softly. How does it hurt to create an illusion?”

“Are you intending to spend your entire life on a world of dreams? Do you realize how short life is? Life is wonderful, full of good things, my friend. And that good can only be seen through the bad. Don’t you see? After. Every bad thing, the level of good is higher, and you feel beauty easier. Without bad experiences, everything is superficial, and you’ve nothing to grow with. In order to see the beauty, you must also see the ugliness.  You have to accept it. You’re missing everything in life with illusions, and mostly the good.”

“I have forever in Shaun’s world. I can face reality later”

“No. You are in trouble as far as Shan’s World is concerned. Here, your illusion is breaking to pieces. You’ll have to return home to build another illusion. Only to have that destroyed someday and have no other place to go. When you are 88, you’ll find that you haven’t lived at all. you have existed, but you don’t know what life is, because all you’ve done is hidden from it as it went by.”

“Maybe that’s the type of life I want.”

“You can’t know what you want until you know what each has to offer,” replied Shan. “And if you haven’t seen reality yet. Forget it, friend, you’ll never know, because you have not the strength to get up and face it. You lose so much by just existing and crawling into a world that is all your own; You just can’t see what the world really is. And you’ll always be alone, because no one else can crawl into your world without bringing reality. No one can show you what the real world looks like, because you’ll retreat into your own. There is so much to see and do, but you can’t do anything with your head hidden in a castle of dreams. Reality isn’t bad. It’s merely the truth. Truth is, this war that is destroying and truth once was a beautiful world you knew here. Now reality is realizing that the truth that once was is no longer and that it will never be again. Be glad it once was, and be happy with which you have now.”

“Why can’t it ever be again? Why must the dreams fail?”

“Because we have gone too far. We have found that there is conflict in life and cannot accept something different than our beliefs. Acceptance the lack of that is what causes war. You can’t accept life as it is. And because of that, you wore within yourself and against others. The war will end, but it will begin again. We aren’t actually fighting each other; we’re fighting mankind. All wars are wars against mankind, not any certain men. And sometimes there will be men left, but no mankind.”

“I don’t understand” said the boy.

“You never will,” replied Shan.

Long lasting then. The two remained unmoving, their eyes often surveying the scenery and thinking deeply. Often, they would look at each other, their eyes meeting and words were spoken without the use of the mouth. They did not speak, but their communication was directly with the heart.

“It’s time. It’s time I leave, and quote, Shan said, finally.

“Take me with you, said the boy, only his eyes bleeding. No, line “not until the wound has healed.”

“It can’t heal here” The boy reminded him.

“Do you actually think that watching men die and helping to kill them will improve the state of your mind and body.?”

“Yes” replied the boy. Open. Quote. Yes., Because then I might be doing something to help the cause. That is partly my fault. I would be fighting for what is left of Shan’s World. I will be fighting so that others can know the happiness that I knew for so long. And I will be. And I will be fighting so that I can accept what I shall meet at home. So that reality will be something I can gain more easily.”

“Then hop upon my back and I shall try to fly you to reality.”

16.   Chapter Sixteen p. 261

A battle raged Within the world. As no battle thus far. For three days, the dark ones and Shan’s World had fought. Though many people lay wounded in dead upon the ground. Shan’s World refused to retreat from their position, as did the Dark Lord. The battle was also high for the Dark Lord, but each person was identical in the dark clans, so those dead mattered very little. Without individuality, no one was worth any concern. He did not mind the loss of his army, while each grown cut deeply into Shan’s heart, for each person killed, was lost forever with all his special uniqueness. Such a person could never be again.

Opened. Quote, retreat!” Someone from Shan’s World shouted, his voice, high pitched “retreat!”

“No” Shan gasped, fighting off the beaks. “no!” He shouted, “we cannot retreat!”

Open. Quote, we must” muttered the other being “we must!”

Rewx supported Shan. “this is one battle we cannot give up.” He said, “it could well be the determining battle, for if we give up, he is able to enter Shan’s World and destroy us. If we don’t retreat, but force him back up instead. Then we shall enter the dark lands”

“and destroy them? close. Quote, someone asked.

Rouge shook his head slowly “No” He said “We can’t do that; They can only do that to us. Ours is but a show. A bluff. No more. Period. End quote

A strange silence fell like a curtain over a play. The fighting screaming and moaning all ceased at once as if by a clue from the director. Little beads of perspiration formed on their faces, as a silence grew tense and frightening. They listened carefully, concentrating, and tried to hear the silent fear. The boys shuddered and sank to his knees, feeling the ground beneath him clearly. Something, something, was with them as they fought.

“My little people,” the voice said, and it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It seemed within their minds, and it seemed to vibrate with its external loudness. It seemed soft and gentle, but loud and threatening at the same time. “I gave you all you could wish for. I gave you happiness, and you ripped it apart to discover sadness in its depths. I gave you peace, and you shatter it with war. I gave you a world of magnificence, and you destroy it. I give you truth and you hide it. I give you candy and you poison it. Like destructive children. You take my gifts and mutilate their message of love. New experiment with happiness. And create fear, hate, and sorrow. I give. You all you could wish for and you turn it into ugliness. I give you a life of beauty and you strive to create evil that you have done. You of Shan’s World. New lines. New lines

“They gave no happiness to lands of darkness. I give them sorrow, hate, fear, pain, and unhappiness. These are the ingredients that went into their making. I did not get them hope, beauty or love. Only the evils of life did I grant their world. You of Shan’s World destroyed your gifts, but the dark land lands did not try to invent any other ingredient. They turn the evil into darker evil. Their sorrow into darker more wretched sorrow their hate they strengthen their hate they fed and their unhappiness grew. Why did Shan’s World not increase their happiness, why could it not have grown? Instead, they turn towards evil and work towards destroying all they had. Is it that all must try to be bad? Does evil truly triumph over good? Without sorrow or unhappiness, why must you attempt to create it? Dad does not create good, but good creates bad. Explain to me little people, it is you. That have done this, and I must know why I ask you if Shan’s World! End quote

Silence fell, long intense. No one moved or spoke, and the breaths were drawn carefully. For many minutes, the creators accusing questions remained unanswered, and hung in the air like fog, covering everything. Finally, it was shone that spoke

“You once appointed me guardian of your people. I vowed to do my best. I’ve done as well as I know how, but I’ve watched the downfall of the kingdom; it was gradual, but real. The people got bored. You gave us too much. It was too much happiness, too many things were wonderful. There was nothing to judge ourselves with. Nothing to challenge us, and we had to create our own evils, though we viewed them only as less than the normal degree of happiness. It was not evil to us; We did not mean evil, but we had to have something to fight. What could it be but ourselves? Others came to our world and viewed it as absolute heaven. But they too grew bored., and showed us the way to evil. Perhaps without them we might never have been challenged or felt the need. However, then we would have been less than ever, wouldn’t we.? There must. Be challenges to discover yourself and to appreciate peace and happiness.

“The dark people did not know what happiness was, so they could not create it. No one showed them the way. There’s a law that has never been changed at all the worlds. The law of gravity. We started from the aerosol we could do was go down. The Dark World started from the ground and did not have the strength to find wings. Thus. We both went down. Door wings have been beating to remain in the air”

“then you believe Shan, that we can never get better, only worse. Is your idea that nothing can be improved because we are pulled down by a force beyond our control? Question. The creator his voice did not occlude the rest of the world. He was speaking only to Shan.

“No” said Shan, slowly “0, no” He paused for a moment and then said. “No, but we must climb to the top ourselves, and fight our own battles to get there. I believe it is to be like getting a shot to immunize someone against a disease. You gave us no evil in our world. So, we cannot fight it. We had no antibodies against it when it invaded us. If we. Climb there ourselves we would have had to fight the germs and would have antibodies against it. However, like germs, began with one deed and multiplied faster Then we could provide ourselves with protection. If you had given us immunization by giving us the germs in a dose too small to overwhelm us, then maybe we could have prevented this war from occurring. The Dark Lords had too much to fight and no happiness to know the difference. They could not find their wings. We would have to have been able to recognize it for what it was and fight evil the correct way. As it is, we still don’t recognize it”

“You do”

“only. Because I had a teacher who was immunized against it, though he was afraid and tried to hide from the germs. Period. End quote

“Is he still hiding?”

“No. being immunized against it. He was able to accept its presence and fight. It is weed that are hiding. It is we who are looking away and saying that this cannot be. We are looking at this war and saying it is temporary and it will end Which is not true.

Forever. Now we Shall be fighting this term. Perhaps someday we will conquer it, but it can never conquer us. Next time, though, we will be immunized also and better able to fight the poll. Of gravity shall not be so strong. Step by step, will climb the ladder, until, maybe someday, we will once again be able. To be sitting on our cloud with all the germs flattened beneath us. Only., it will be a war that will go on beyond forever. Period, end quote

“tell me, Then, why did the germ of good not cross the border into the dark lands?”

“In Shan’s World, you gave us the least basic hint of evil and some exposure to it. But to them, you gave no trait of good. They had nothing to show them what it was like or what it was. No German invaded them because it was beyond their comprehension. They had none in their world. With the dark forest and the dull forest, which weren’t actually evil, but were not happy and showed us what happiness was not. There was nothing to show them what unhappiness was not. You did not even get them a green tree, which is not happy, but isn’t unhappy either. You didn’t even give them a germ to grow and multiply. It was easy for them to be bad, because it fit into their society, however, to be good would have destroyed them. we would be evil because you gave us the trait of acceptance, and we were lenient and understanding to those who were evil. We were even rewarded for you. Evil by relieving a thirst in a restlessness within us. That was our destruction

Again, they have a silence hung over them. And finally, was broken by the creator, “Right now, the evil and good are more or less separated. Evil in the dark lands, good in the Shan’s World. It seems that Shan’s World will perish as it is, so I will combine them. I will spread germs about to both worlds and see who is the strongest. Since there will be a war forever anyway, now that it has begun, I shall change the form of the war. I shall make it less destructive externally, but harder to fight. The war will now be a war from within each self. Each must fight the war, and some will lose, and some will win. Period, now away! Disperse the battle! It is changed locations now. Goodbye, my people. Fight your battles and win the war.

Kevin look carefully around, searching for some hint of light in the darkness. Finally, he saw a street coming in from beyond the corner of some wall. He slowly began to crawl towards it, ignoring the pain of his scraped hands and knees and the hunger pains. He had only one object in mind, and that was to get home to his mother and father. Tears dampened his face and soon streaked it with cake dust. He wanted his parents so desperately that it hurt.

Kevin emerged from under the building into an unfamiliar yard with boxes and pieces of rusty metals scattered around. For a moment, he stared, a scraped dirty little boy looking out at the yard with tears striking his face. Then it registered, and he knew where he was and more importantly, he knew how to get home

He ran. He ran blindly, stumbling and falling, but picking himself up to run harder. He did not see the people who were looking at him, or the hands that tried to stop him. “Mommy!” “Daddy!” He sobbed as he ran. And finally, two people came out of the house to stare at a dusty, scared boy running down the street unsteadily. The boy was soon swallowed in their arms, and surrounded by two engulfing bodies that weren’t going to let him go. He smiled and tried to bury himself further in their love.

17.   The end

---

Notes and Provenance

The title was written with nail polish.

Written on a portable Olympic typewriter with PICA print from June to December of freshman year in high school. A “C” student with no hope but dishing out french fries — unless I changed my ways and gave up the world I loved.

Despite the temptation — not a single word has been changed. To me, it was a sacred text. A lifetime promise to return and meet the obligations I was escaping.

The obligation to speak and witness…

—-

This manuscript wasn’t written by an adult trying to reconstruct childhood from a safe distance — it was written inside the childhood, by a 15-year-old working his way out of a private world he knew he could not stay in. The internal and external landscapes mirror each other: a boy trying to hold onto a fantasy realm while the real world presses from every direction, and a world that insists on changing even as he tries to freeze it. The result is not a children’s story but a psychological document — a record of how a mind builds a sanctuary, tests it, breaks it, and finally chooses to return to the harder, ordinary world where other people exist.

The value here is not nostalgia or whimsy. The text shows a young writer mapping the mechanics of dissociation, self-construction, and return. Shan’s World isn’t a paradise; it’s the architecture of a coping system, complete with its failure points. The “war” is not allegory; it’s the cost of staying in a personal reality too long. The book’s provenance matters because it explains the rigor underneath the fantasy: the author wasn’t escaping life so much as preparing to rejoin it. That intention gives the work its weight. What looks like an invented cosmos is really a draft blueprint for adulthood, made by someone who wasn’t supposed to reach it but decided to anyway.

Snippet (from AI)

A private world can protect a child only until it begins to replace reality; this manuscript captures the exact moment when leaving that world becomes the only way to survive it.

---

Part of the Martin Marprelate Returns collection

---