Chapter Seven
Standing outside of his destination, Ben looked down upon the mass of stairs he had just climbed to reach this point. It wasn’t more than a hundred steps, but his legs screamed it was a thousand. Out of shape and out of breath, he stood there, hunched over, supporting his weight on his knees, willing his body to catch up to his ambition. The front door to his home was only a few feet away, but he couldn’t move another inch.
The morning sun was coming up over the tree line, but something was off about it. Its piercing light seemed dull today and its warmth was almost superficial. Ben sat down on a stone bench, taking a break after the long trek from the cave below. The book still felt light in his hands, like it wanted to be carried. He opened it up and started flipping through the stiff pages, looking for some clue as to his next step.
One page in particular jumped out, causing him to stop and examine it. On the page grotesque creatures, standing taller than mountains, looked down upon little specks of humans as the tiny people worshiped them like gods. Along the edges were strange symbols that must have been letters and words. Despite the well-drawn images and symbols, he was unable to discern any helpful information. He gave up, despite his piqued interest, and closed the book. With the wind back in his sails, Ben stood up and headed into the house, unsure of what he would find.
Inside, the place was rundown and dingy, which came as a shock. Only hours before the entire house had been spotless thanks to Charles’ excellent cleaning skills. Running his hand across the banister of the stairs, Ben pulled it away with a large covering of dust. It was like the house had been left dormant for years before he walked through the door. The furniture was still as he had left it, but ages had passed since another person had set foot in there. This sudden change left him feeling anxious and on edge.
Without further hesitation, Ben ran down into the basement to look for Franklin. The room was just as he had left it, except for the corpse of his new friend, which was nowhere to be found. It was as if it had never existed at all. The table was covered with the same soot as the rest of the house with the exception of where the book had been resting all those years. The spot was clean, as though someone had just wiped it off. Ben also noticed that the door was no longer there, and the rug that covered it was still hanging as it had before.
“I’m all alone,” he said. The fear had begun to creep inside again like a faceless mass of darkness. Pulling out a chair, he sat down for a moment, hating himself for feeling so weak and helpless. This was getting worse by the second, and he didn’t have a clue how to fix it. After a few minutes of quiet panic, he sat up and scolded himself for giving in. The chair creaked as it relieved itself of his weight.
Still sulking, he walked up the stairs and into his parents’ bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was quiet as a tomb. He sat down on the chair his mother used to rock him to sleep in and thought about a different time, back at this old house when things were better. In his mind, he was transported to his old house where they used to have a game night every so often. They would laugh and play and lose themselves in each other’s company. Things seemed better back then, but that seemed like a million years ago, when he was a different person.
Realizing how alone he was, Ben came to the conclusion that there was only one course of action—he needed to find someone to help him. With this newfound goal in mind, he left the house, exiting the back door, with the book in hand, leaving behind his home and all its memories, good and bad, for the bleak world beyond its walls.
As he opened the door to the backyard, Ben noticed that the sun had already retreated for the day, leaving the cold night’s sky to be his guide through the darkness. Without realizing it, he had wasted an entire day sitting around, moping and worrying about his current situation. An intense hunger was building up inside him, but he knew there wasn’t time to stop for food.
On his left was a chain-link fence that his parents had installed while he was away at school. Near that was the shed that held the tools their gardener used to maintain their expensive foliage. Their pristine landscaping was something to marvel at, but the poor demeanor of the gardener left something to be desired. He often complained about his wife and other happenings in his life, forcing Ben to listen. Ben was often irritated, but he listened to be polite.
All the work the gardener had done was overshadowed by new growth. The small plants and flowers were now over grown, but well kept and vibrant in the moonlight. It was the first real beauty he had seen.
Stepping off the stoop and on to the pathway, Ben made his way toward the shed, hoping to find someone with something to say. With no one else around, the boy was left looking for anyone he could find, even if it was the cantankerous gardener. With the light of the moon casting down on him, he heard something that gave him cause to scout around, looking for any sense of danger. Then, through the thick woods behind the fence, he saw something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Two beady dots of glowing silver seemed to move behind the leaves, following his every step. Ben halted for a moment trying to figure out what it was. They stopped with him, mirroring his position.
In an unconscious motion, his hand shot down to his pocket, where he felt the outline of his grandfather’s medallion against the fabric of his jeans. The pounding of his heart became louder in his chest until it was overpowered by another unwelcome sound. A low repetitive growl began to get louder until it broke off into a loud howl. At this, Ben scurried backwards, right as the gaping maw of a large wolf-like creature snapped at the fence. Before he knew it, he was sitting on his ass, back against the wall, with his hands covering his face in a protective manner.
It growled and barked at him as Ben waited for the inevitable end with his eyes closed. If he could have breathed, he would have screamed for his life, but before he had a chance, there was a loud unfamiliar crack followed by a quick whimper. After a moment of silence, he opened his eyes. There, standing before him, was a short man with an overgrown mustache and a large fork-like apparatus in his hand. Electricity arced across the tines and Ben knew then that it was a large cattle prod, or something similar.
“Damn mutts, always trying to scare people,” the man said. “Come on in. I’ll check you out, make sure you’re okay.” He waddled over to the shed and opened the door. Ben just sat there, still stunned by what had happened. It took his chest a moment to loosen up enough for him to take a small breath, which still had trouble passing the lump in his throat.
“Well, you just gonna sit there and wait for him to come back, or are you gonna come in?” the man asked with an impatient tongue. Ben jumped up and ran to the door, as the man stood there holding the door with a bit of a grimace on his face. His annoyance was apparent, but Ben didn’t notice. His attention was still fixed on the fence and the beady marbles that were still there, sizing him up. They both stepped into the small building, with the little man leading the way.
The shack turned out to be much larger than Ben had anticipated. The entire back wall had been torn down to connect to the large greenhouse behind it. Its windows were crude blown glass tinted a harsh teal from all the grimy build-up on them. A variety of plants surrounded him; each had its own pot and place on a shelf or the floor. The room was humid and hot, making it hard for Ben to catch his breath.
“Well, what can I do you for?” the man asked, walking over with a bowl of piping hot liquid. It was full of ingredients and smelled delicious. “Eat,” he said, and walked over to his workstation, dwarfed by the counter he stood behind. The man put on a pair of round glasses and began watering the plants with a metal can. He stood at each and hummed a tune, and when it was done he moved on to the next. Ben looked down at the food, not sure how to respond.
“Eat!” the man said again. “It’ll help your strength.” Ben took the bowl and turned it up. The tastes that collided inside his mouth made him drink until it was gone. With the bowl sitting empty, he already wanted more.
??
?Aren’t you going to say anything?” the man asked in his crabby voice.
“Thank you,” Ben said.
“That’s not what I mean. I don’t have all day, so if you’re here to buy something, you need to speak up.”
“I’m not here to buy anything. I…just didn’t know where else to go,” Ben responded. “You see I’ve got this book…”
“A book, you say? Let me see,” the man butted in. Hesitantly, Ben placed the book down on the counter top. The old man adjusted his glasses and then opened it. As he flipped through the pages he mumbled something to himself, as if he was reading the impossible script. This went on for a few moments as Ben tried to follow his eyes.
“Can you understand any of this?” Ben questioned.
The man looked up without moving his neck, holding on to his glasses so they wouldn’t fall off. “Some of it,” he said. Ben’s eyes grew wide with excitement and he stepped closer to the counter to examine the book with him.
“I’m Ben, by the way,” Ben said, trying not to sound on edge, but the irritable old man only replied with his name, “Jarvis.” They stood in silence for a while as the man skimmed the pages, muttering incoherent babble. After growing tired of standing there, Ben took off toward the back of the greenhouse so he wouldn’t have to feel the awkwardness between the two of them. It had only been a few hours since he had left Franklin behind, but he could already tell that it wasn’t going to be easy. Without anyone to help him, as Franklin had, Ben didn’t know what to do or where to go next.
All around him was a bounty of lush plants that were larger than he had expected them to be. Most were colorful flowers, but there were whole sections of roots and cacti as well as vines and a moss like substance. Each was set up in its own place and given what it needed to survive in its normal environment. Ben was surprised to see that the building had its own electricity that helped mimic the natural habitats of some of the plants. Grow lights hung above most of them, creating the light and heat they needed to survive.
“I take it you sell plants?” Ben questioned, raising his voice so the man could hear him.
“I sell ingredients,” Jarvis said, standing behind him. Ben jumped, not expecting the short man to be so close. “I grow and sell different substances for use in alchemical recipes. Now, we need to discuss this book.”
“Okay,” Ben replied. The walk to the front of the store was short, but the tension that had grown between them made it seem like an eternity. Ben felt like a child again, waiting for his parents’ approval or a kind word from another adult. This wasn’t how he wanted to act, but there was little he could do.
“This is quite the find,” he said. “I don’t see many tomes of this magnitude out here. The problem, though, is that it was written in different languages. I can read parts, but the rest is unknown to me. I’ll make you a deal. You do something for me, and I’ll help you by translating what I know. Sound good?”
“Yeah, I think we can do that,” Ben said, happy to be getting somewhere.
Jarvis cocked a simple grin and started pulling things out from under the counter. One was a water skin and the other was a thin red piece of cloth. It was sheer and silky as he ran it through his fingers.
“You will need these. I have prepared the skin with not just water, but some other ingredients that will help revitalize you more than the water will on its own. Remember, you will need to take only one sip at a time, no matter how thirsty you may be. This shawl will help protect you from the elements. I have carefully imbued it with oils and other salves to keep your skin shielded. Take these two things and I’ll meet you out back. When you return, I should have some of this translated.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?” Ben asked.
“I need you to go get something for me; it’s a rare fruit that only grows in one place. It’s going to help me in my experiments for pushing the normal boundaries of our minds. Meet me outside and I’ll tell you what I can,” Jarvis said, wandering off toward a back room. Waddling through the door, he stopped and sprinkled some kind of powder onto one of his plants and then was gone. Ben stood there for a moment and then grabbed up the items and stepped outside.
There was a cool, mild breeze blowing when he stepped out into the night. The baleful fence stole his attention the moment his feet touched the stone walkway. Without a trace of his new tormentor, Ben snuck around the building, trying his best not to draw any attention to himself. Jarvis marched out of the glass doors and toward him. Without missing a beat, he looked up at Ben and said, “Follow me,” in a forceful voice Ben couldn’t say no to.
Before them was a tall arched gate cast from iron, surrounded by a wall of shrubbery that boxed in a large hedge maze. Its tall walls were impossible to see over, even standing on the stone statue of a nearby nymph. The gate had a keyhole that caught Ben’s attention the second it came into view. The key in his back pocket seemed like a good place to start, so he pulled it out and stuck it in. The old man giggled with glee as the lock refused to turn. With a set of keys in his hand, Jarvis walked over and opened the lock himself. The screech of the gate was like music to his ears as a new avenue opened before them.
“I’ll be in my shed when you get back,” he said, turning to leave. Ben looked at the gate, ready to enter, when a burning question pulled him away.
“Wait, where do I go?” Ben asked.
“Through the maze,” Jarvis said, walking back toward the shed.
“But where am I supposed to end up?” Ben asked. His whiny voice had returned, along with that childish inclination he was trying to forget.
The man turned, and with the amused smile of a hyena, said, “A garden.”
“A garden? We are already in a garden,” Ben said.
“Yes, but this is a very special garden. There you will find a tree with a special fruit. I need you to get it for me.”
“Where is it?” Ben asked.
“You’ll find it.”