Red Leaves and the Living Token (9 page)

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Authors: Benjamin David Burrell

BOOK: Red Leaves and the Living Token
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She put the folder back and smiled. As if to say, any other questions?

“Well, he isn’t in there.” He stared back at her, expecting her to make a little more effort in trying to figure out where he might be.

Instead, she folded her arms. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where else he’d be.”

“OK, which Nurse is assigned to him right now?”

She looked up at a board on the wall with columns of names. “That would be Moslin, but…” She paused.

“But?” Raj said, raising his brow.

“She hasn’t shown up for her shift yet.” The nurse continued.

One of the other nurses sitting further down near the end of the station turned in her chair. “Oh, I was supposed to tell you that she was gonna come in late today. She had a church meeting.”

“So who’s covering her shift?” The Nurse sitting in front of Hander’s asked.

“I told her I would.” The nurse at the end answered.

“When was the last time you check in on Emret?” Handers asked her.

She turned toward the board on the wall with the names and giggled. “Oh. I guess I didn’t see him on her list.”

The nurse in front of Handers suddenly looked confused, then concerned. She turned back to Handers.

“I'm sorry, Mr Handers. Let me find out who saw him last and at what time.”

“Did Moslin come in at all today?” Raj asked the Nurse who was covering her shift.

“She did. She came in for a few minutes, just to grab a few things.” She answered.

Handers took the card out of his wallet that Moslin had given him earlier. On the back was a schedule of services. Sure enough there was one mentioned this morning. Maybe she took him with her.

“Thank you ladies. I’ll be back later.”

“But Mr Handers…” The Nurse in front of him called after him.

-

He wound through the streets quickly, following the directions on the back of the card. He turned the last corner to find the ancient stone church rising up above him. Then his stomach sank as the realization hit him. Starting on each side of the church, a high stone wall stretched to the end of the block in both direction. The same high stone wall that he’d seen just a few nights before. The school grounds! This church was sitting on the back side of it. A sudden wave of anger flashed over him. What possible connection could this church and this school have with his son? With Moslin?

He wandered past the large stone columns of the Church's foyer and stopped beside the over sized double doors leading into the chapel. The pews were half filled with a sea of green Botann heads. A quiet, mostly Botann, congregation sat and listened to an elderly Cleric offer his sermon.

Handers scanned the back of the crowd for Moslin. It was impossible to tell from behind. Botanns, he thought in contempt, had too much natural camouflage, to many natural appendages obscuring any recognizable features.

He moved quietly to the back of the congregation and took a seat. His eyes moved over the crowd again. Nothing. Where was she? He thought. She had to be here. There was no were else that made sense.

After the services concluded, the congregation filtered past him, allowing him to get a clear view of each face. The crowd flowed past him and started to thin. Yet he still hadn’t seen her. After the last of them passed save a few still standing by the pews talking, it was clear that she wasn’t there. How utterly frustrating! He thought. Where in the world had she taken him? He tried to release his clenched fist in an effort to temper his anger.

He made his way through the last lingering groups to the front where the Cleric who gave the sermon was still gathering his papers. He looked up as Raj approached.

“What can I do for you, my friend?” The Cleric asked.

“I'm sorry, this may seem a little out of place but... did you see a young Botann woman with an 13 year old Zo boy in this morning service?” Handers asked.

“See? No. But we do keep records of our congregation. Why do you ask?”

Handers fidgeted with his shirt nervously. “My son is missing. I think that this woman...”

“I see.” The Cleric put down his papers. “Do you know her name?”

“Moslin Verdu and my son's name is Emret.”

The Cleric stared at him, his brow furrowed. “Moslin Verdu? You're sure?”

Handers explained, “She's my son's nurse. She invited me here earlier. I thought she might've brought my son.”

“Might I suggest we continue this conversation somewhere a little more private?” The Cleric gestured towards a door in a nearby corner of the chapel.

-

The Cleric pulled open a heavy wooden door and led Handers into a small room. A young Botann girl, a few years younger than Emret, sat in a chair by the corner window, reading.

“Sinesh, could you wait in the hall for just a moment?” The Cleric asked the girl.

The small room was surrounded with book shelves. In front of the shelves, as apparently there wasn’t enough shelving, the books were simply piled on the floor. A large desk took up almost the rest of the space left by the books. There were two chairs crammed up against each side of the desk.

Sinesh picked up her bag and the book she was reading and left.

“Thanks dear.”

Handers stood next to the open chair but didn’t sit down. He was still fascinated by the intensity of the clutter.

“I take it, you know Moslin.” He said without looking at the Cleric.

“Yes I do.” The Cleric answered as he squeezed around his large desk and sat in his formal chair. “She's my daughter.”

Handers stopped looking at the books in front of him and turned to the Cleric.

“Master Cleric Bedic Verdu,” Bedic extended a hand of greeting.

Handers shook it. “Your daughter? I had no idea she was the...”

Bedic let out a grunt sort of laugh. “If you had would that've changed the way you spoke to her last night?”

Handers stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“She came by my home last night, upset. We had a nice conversation about what happened.” Bedic explained.

“Listen, I like your daughter. She's been really kind to my son.” He noticed a large BOOK on a small waist high table next to a shelf. The cover of the book, partly covered in papers, appeared to be an illustration of something similar to the Token he recovered at the beach. He stepped towards the book.

“But at the same time she refuses to respect my wishes in some important areas regarding his care. As a parent, I can’t tolerate that.”

“Oh?” Bedic replied.

Handers slid the papers aside to reveal the full illustration on the cover of the book. It was an image of the Token he recovered on the beach. He was right! What would that be doing here? He wondered.

“She won't stop reading him a book that influences how he perceives his illness. Its deceptive and unfair. When he realizes it isn't true it's going to be incredibly destructive.”

Bedic got up and scooted over to the book that had attracted Hander's attention.

“So you asked her to stop reading him the book, and in retaliation, she kidnapped your son? Thats a pretty drastic reaction, don’t you think?”

“I didn't say she kidnapped him. I... I can't find either of them. The other nurses said she came here this morning.”

Bedic moved in to pick up the book, forcing Handers to back out of the way. Bedic continued to a nearby shelf and slid it into an empty spot.

“I sympathize with your situation. I can't imagine the panic you must feel, missing a child like this.” He stepped over to the door and opened it.

“I think in this case, your emotions are your enemy. You’re grabbing whole heartedly to the first possibility that comes to mind. I suggest you go back and collect as many hard facts as possible. When my daughter returns from where ever she went to blow off steam from your argument I'll have her contact you.” He stepped out the door. “If you'll excuse me, I need to attend to my granddaughter. You remember the way out?”

Handers let out a frustrated sigh and followed him to the door. He supposed the old man was right. Perhaps he’d been a little quick in making his conclusions. It was a little early to know what happened. But at this point he sure could use some help. If Moslin had nothing to do with it, he’d bet she’d be willing to help look for him.

He watched Bedic and his granddaughter holding hands as they disappeared down the stone hallway. The image brought a wave of unpleasant emotion. What if he never saw his son again? What if he never got to hold his son’s hand? He quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind. He’d find Emret. He had too. But… What then…

He watched Bedic and his granddaughter turn the corner, then glanced back at the open door to Bedic’s office. That book! He didn’t like thinking about the fact that he’d been seeing things mystically disappear and then reappear in front of him. What was it, a hallucination? Not a pleasant thought. There had to be some rational explanation for it. He quickly slipped back into the room and over to the shelf where Bedic had put the book. With a quick scan, he located it, slipped it out and put it back onto the pedestal.

After a quick peek out the door to make sure he’d still be alone for a few more minutes, he hurried back to pedestal. On the way, his arm brushed past a sloppy stack of papers leaning precariously near the edge of the large desk. He turned in time to see them sliding off and made a vain grab at them, but it was too late. They hit the ground with a loud smack.

He cursed under his breath, then listened for a moment for any reaction outside the room. Nothing. He looked at the door then back at the book. The image of the Token was clear and unmistakable. What is this thing? He wondered as he traced his finger over it.

He flicked the cover open and flipped through the first couple of pages. Lots of small print. Then a full page illustration. He stopped. A beautifully executed pen and ink depiction of a small animal with bright red fur sitting in the underbrush of a thick pine forest. Next to it was a small plant with bright red branches and leaves. Below the plant and animal was an area of bright red soil. Red was the only colored ink.

He turned the page.

It was another illustration in simple pen and ink with accents of color. On one side, there was a person standing in the corner of the page holding the glowing white statue from the front cover. Across the page from that person was the small red plant with bright red leaves. Mountains and forests, drawn more as small icons, separated the man from the little plant.

Hander’s vision blurred unexpectedly. He thought he was passing out. Then as suddenly as the dizziness had come on his head was clear again. Only he wasn’t in the room looking at the book any more. He was standing in a pine forest holding the token up in front of him.

Oh no, he thought. This isn’t good. A portion of the forest began to glow in the pattern of a path starting where he stood and stretching out as far as he could see through the trees. In a jolting blur of motion, he shot forward along highlighted path. He moved faster and faster until the individual trees turned to streaks. The forest ended abruptly, and his body crumpled downward with inertia as he changed direction. He shot almost straight up, climbing above the jagged cliffs of a mountain range. He crested a peak descended on the other side as fast as he had climbed. At the base of the mountain, he hit the ground with a jarring impact and continued forward into another forest without pause. The trees blew by then abruptly stopped. He head spun, and he had the irresistible urge to vomit. After a moment, his head cleared. There below him was that same little plant with the red leaves that he’d seen drawn in the book.

As soon as he caught his breath, he was pulled backward, as though being pulled through a sheet of glass. And then he was back in the Cleric’s office standing in front of the book. He stepped back from it in reaction.

That was his cue to go, he thought. This wasn’t what he needed at all. He scooted over to the door and stepped out. The hallway was still empty. He took a deep breath and cursed again. He doubted he’d have this chance again. He had to see if there was anything else in there that’d be useful.

He returned to the book, leaned in and very delicately turned the page.

What looked like a giant ink blot filled almost the entire left page. Armies of Zo, Bota, and Petra filled the bottom of both pages like ants swarming around a much larger animal. The ink blot appeared to be some sort of creature that was attacking the tiny armies, thrashing its black arms and tail.

In the middle of the army, one man stood apart. He was drawn much larger than the rest and was holding a glowing white token in his out stretched hand.

Hander's vision blurred, and he fell forward. He caught his balance after a moment and looked up. He was in an open field of heavily trampled grass. So much dust had been kicked up around him that it clouded out the horizon. Again he was holding the Token up in front of him. Zo Soldiers ran frantically to the side of him, fleeing from an unseen danger. He turned just as a black mass struck down with impossible force hitting the fleeing soldiers. The ground trembled, and the explosion hurt his ears. The sky filled with their bodies twisting and turning. Horror shook down his spine as he saw their faces and heard their screams.

Handers saw himself turn to confront the looming black mass. He followed its form up into the sky, looking for it’s top but could see nothing but black above him.

From the left, a piece of it shot out and came down towards him. He saw himself hold the Token up to it as he stood his ground as though it were some kind of weapon. The creature’s appendage bore down at an incredible speed then twisted backward in an ear deafening collision. The Token’s glow had grown to a blinding glare. The appendage seemed to have collided with that glare, with the aura of light emanating from it.

Handers’ head started to spin; he felt the same sensation of falling backward through a plane of glass. Then he was back in the room again standing over the book.

Handers stepped back again in reaction, then just stared at the book for a moment trying to grasp the significance of what he had just seen. He felt like he wanted to throw up after what he’d just seen. It just didn’t make any sense. None of it. There had to be more of an explanation.

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