The GOD Box (34 page)

“I want a life oblivious to emotions and ignorant of right and wrong! That’s what I want! I don’t want freedom! I don’t want happiness! I want to be left alone!”

Dane was completely taken aback. He didn’
t know what to say to that. Who would blatantly say they didn’t want to be happy?

“It’s too hard!” Jonathan finished. Frustrated with his own admission. “It’s too hard!”

Dane thought for a moment and neither of them moved until Jonathan jerked his hand away. Some time passed, Dane filling with patience and empathy. He tried to say it as lovingly as possible,

“Which ones to you need
most
?”

“All of them” h
e snapped. Dane didn’t give in, “The bi-polar ones? That’s a no brainer. Depression and sleeping pills? So that’s the pink, the grey and the dark purple?”

Jonathan was afraid that Dane was going to pick them all out, but instead, he moved aside so Jonathan could do it himself.

“I won’t even watch you… but please, for all of our sakes, make a good choice. If happiness was a possibility, and it is, what do you want instead of self-inflicted rejection? Instead of emotional ignorance? Instead of never making a choice? Come on Jonathan.”

Sweat was
pouring down Jonathan’s face. He grabbed a smaller bottle, shaking so hard that he dropped it once, and then twice. He slammed his fist on the edge of the drawer, which made him bleed. He did mostly as Dane suggested, taking a few of each of the others just in case. Not saying a thing, he twisted the lid shut and left the drawer for Dane to close. Before Dane could read his next action, Jonathan popped some pills and swallowed them. Without a word, he turned to the door.

He swiftly tapped the little numbers to get them out.
Dane hurt
for
him. And, the pain was so personal, there was nothing Dane could do. Jonathan swore at him. Dane figured he deserved it, so he didn’t fight back. Then Jonathan did it again. Just get it out, Dane thought. After the fourth highly offensive insult, Dane could hardly stand it anymore.

Up and up they climbed throwing insults back and forth. You’re such a baby. Juvenile. Impatient. Imbecile. Old man. Indecisive. Pity party. Wimp. Chicken dung. Freeze dried chicken noodle soup. Perfectionist.

When the opening of the cave was visible Dane ran to catch up with Jonathan and stood in front of him, bringing him to a halt. Jonathan let out a sound that was a mix of a growl and a groan. He wanted to get outside and never see Dane again. He wanted to see the sun. Like he was a child who had to go to the bathroom he bounced up and down. Jonathan almost spit in Dane’s face when he finally stopped long enough for Dane to ask him for his watch, flashlight, and phone.
No.
They took away his pills, he was an emotional wreck, now his dignity was gone. This was below the belt and he wouldn’t have it. He pushed Dane aside. Dane pushed back. That was something Dane had never been; physically confrontational.

“Will you rob me of everything?!?
I possess nothing!” Jonathan screamed. The cave rumbled and rolled the sound of his voice until it was lost in the darkness.

Jonathan paced, growling and writhing
his hands like he was waiting to strangle Dane, trying to calm himself. Somehow he knew it wouldn’t work. If Dane said one thing – one patronizing comment about his attempt to stabilize himself, Jonathan wouldn’t be responsible for what happened to him. With enough control to not choke Dane, at least, he shoved him backward, then, went for a punch in the jaw, but he missed. Unfortunately, Dane didn’t and Jonathan got struck with an uppercut in the throat and lower jaw. ARGH! He was going to lose this fight, too. That thought made him desperate. Pummeling Dane to the ground, Jonathan pressed his forearm with his body weight on Dane’s windpipe. Dane’s right arm was pinned under Jonathan and his left arm flailed for something productive to do. Hardly knowing what happened, Jonathan screamed because of pain in his eye and Dane had the advantage to roll him over to his back and held his arm behind him until he called out in pain.

“This is NOT your world anymore.” Dane scathed.
Jonathan knew what he meant and started hyperventilating against the dirt, breathing it in, getting it in his eyes. Dane relaxed his grip when he felt Jonathan’s tension wane. “You need some medication, I understand that. You don’t need these devices. Not anymore. You need to choose to let go.”

“Choose. Is this choosing?
Is this choosing?
Is this freedom?!”

Dane let go,
reluctantly accepting that Jonathan had a fair point. Dane stood, “For the record, it’s not my world either.”

He was right to expect some comment about the Dane box, or the May box, because Jonathan was conjuring it as he said that. Jonathan had nothin
g more to say. Shaky hands handed all requests over. Nothing is what he felt. A black abyss. His head down, his shoulders slumped. For once, not looking for pity. He just felt broken. He wished he no longer existed. Dane now had control over everything Jonathan loved and needed. Perhaps it was even entertaining to the man to watch him submit, and to suffer. Regrettably, Jonathan knew that wasn’t true. Dane was pained to watch him. He left Dane there and drug himself to the opening of the cave, holding back his desire to drown himself. Crawling, stumbling, through the slippery water, getting a mouthful of old moss he drooped to the other side.
Lay here and die. Just die, you pathetic worm.

He tried to get up and walk forward.

The sound of small mechanical things plunging into nasty water penetrated the world of silence. As if his thoughts weighed a million pounds, and as if they were the only truth that had ever existed, he staggered under the weight, catching himself on the trunks of trees, until he couldn’t bear it anymore and fell to the ground. Dane waited a good thirty minutes before trying to take his hand and coax him up and onward.

Back at their campsite, Dane opened the large bucket to see what was inside. It was a golden color and was lethargic and sticky. It looked like glue. Dane put his finger in it and dr
ew some out to place on his tongue. His world was turned upside down. The stuff tasted so good he didn’t even care if it was glue! For a full day they sat with Jonathan sleeping and Dane eating this fabulous substance. By the night-time his stomach was sick.

Jonathan was awake now, but refused to eat. He rolled over in fetal position
, saying nothing. By the morning, Dane’s stomach felt better and Jonathan was standing up with his bag on, ready to go. Dane didn’t question. Now was the time for mercy.

When they returned
, it was night, and they found May on the porch with a knife and the gun, where she had been on watch consistently for the last week. She looked tired from protecting the house from whatever was trying to penetrate. She would never be free from that burden, but she had chosen it. When she saw Dane, she didn’t even stand until he helped her up, wrapping his arms around her.

“We have a lifetime of work to do.” He said, fully accepting the wo
rk at the cave as their obligation “But, I think it will be good.” He held her for a while, then let her go so they could enter the house, asking, “Were you out here the whole time? You look like death.”

“Yeah, well, the day after you left, Darian came by…”

“He saw us leaving town.”

“Yeah, so I think he thought he could come and gain some advantage. First he tried sweet talking, and when that didn’t work, he pushed his way into the house and went straight for the chest
with the books and clothing. He pulled out the clothing, even took some of it. I didn’t want to use the gun. I sent Janey to get Samson and while Samson was coming, I kicked him in the face and we fought for a little bit. … I don’t even care that he takes the stuff, really, not anymore. I mostly hate his intrusion.” She said defiantly, still flipping the knife fluidly in her fingers. “Oh, and someone heard our little marriage conversation with Jonathan and people have been asking me about it, kind of accusingly. I just don’t know what to do with all this information.”

They continued their conversation insid
e, following Jonathan in.

Dane spoke very confidently, and peacefully, “I think we should share it. It’s time. You wouldn’t believe what I saw. And, we’re gunna make lots of babies – animal babies – er, I better back up. There are more animals than just chickens. I don’t know what they are, but we’re gunna find out, and Jonathan is going to grow them, or teach us how to grow them
in these giant plastic uterus things…” Dane continued in his weak explanation, and Jonathan walked past from the couch toward his chair, rolling his eyes.

“Not that easy to explain, is it?” Jonathan
seethed, and paused at the table, looking at his chair. May and Dane watched silently as he seemed to realize he didn’t have to sit there anymore, but nowhere else felt as comfortable.

“So it’s not like I have all the answers, but Jonathan was right about one thing. I think there
is
a formula.”

Jonathan didn’t say anything, he was too emotionally preoccupied at the moment, apparently at a worrisome standstill. Dane didn’t try to get a reaction from him and May seemed too tired to compute, so he changed tactics.

“Tell me what else happened here.” Dane invited to May.

“I don’t know if it’s because they lack the full story that they are jumping down our throats, or if it is the content of the story. Darian wasn’t the only one who came by. He was just the only one who knew what he was looking for. I feel so responsible for what is going to happen, and so guilty for bringing Ma and the kids into it.”

“Well, this isn’t going to die with us anyhow. They would need to know.”

“Yeah,
that’s what I figured. Still don’t like it.”

As if Dane’s return was a cue, Darian came to the door that hadn’t shut quite yet.
At first, Darian tried to look natural and confident, but soon his pompous look became a little sheepish.

He made to enter the threshold
but Dane walked toward him, folding his arms threateningly so Darian stepped back.

“No friends with you?”
Dane accused.

“Um… you?”

Dane frowned. “Really?”

“
Oh, come on, what’d I do?”

“Really?”

“Whatever, let me in.”

“You set this house on fire, you idiot.”

“We didn’t want to hurt anyone, we just wanted to figure out what you knew. And – It’s not like you’re innocent. You set a historical site on fire.”

“Not us – that guy.” Dane said pointing backwards.
When Darian looked around Dane, he saw May who was still sitting at the table flipping her knife. For once he seemed intimidated.

“Well, he belongs with you.”
Darian pushed.

“Sort of, let’s not go that far.”

Jonathan started, “Hey -”

“Calm down, we’re all still getting used to this.” May added to shush him.

Dane leaned in the doorway,
arms still folded, filling up the space and clearly keeping Darian out as long as possible.

“No, I’m pretty pissed at you. I don’t know if you just thought everything would be okay – that you could just say sorry. You’ve given thi
s house some scares. Because we’re friends, I thought you would act better.”

“Yeah, well, so did I. Why did you friggin’ hide everything? I think that makes you as much of a rotten friend as me.”

“Yeah, on the defensive, not the offensive.”

“My side
could be defensive!”

Dane sighed and frowned. He felt like cursing, but he didn’t.
Dane debated the situation in his mind and moved away, slowly, from the door. Darian cleared his throat and tried to stand tall as Dane let him in.

Darian smiled
uncomfortably and purposely sat away from May. She stopped spinning the knife, but didn’t set it down and didn’t relax. Instead, she drooped into a tense stupor. It was very apparent how tired she was. She wasn’t going to last long. Dane sat across from her and began into details about how they found the city and how the books led them to the cave. Samson’s snores interrupted them periodically and Miek came in about an hour into the conversation. When he realized what it was about, he started up complaining that Darian got better details than he ever did. Dane explained that he and Darian were longer friends then he and Miek, and there were things Darian understood better about him.

Miek huffed,
“He set the house on fire!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Darian yelled
, and slammed his hand on the table.

Thomas was asleep on one of the couches and woke with a start, scolded them groggily for being so loud, and then drifted back to sleep without recognizing who he was actually talking to.

Darian’s protest started up a fight again about who did what and who was guiltier. May calmed Miek, who was still unhappy and stalked off to the couch.

Dane didn’t say anything and let
Miek sulk, knowing he’d be fine in a few minutes. Out of Dane’s pocket came the little green book. Miek protested again,