Fiction

Chapter 2: Tzimtzum

(Part 1)

Tyiea and Ian stood hand in hand on a beach. Their eyes were focused on tumbling green-beige waves. Further out, Ian could see what appeared to be a curtain of fog. When he asked Tyiea about it she was vague.

It keeps them out... she responded.

Keeps who out? Ian questioned.

The world out there. There are those who want what we have. Here, everything is as it was. Undestroyed. Beyond the fog is a world of desolation...exploitation...resources are depleted and there is constant war and anarchy. To control only a little of what we have would make men who live there rich. You find it so hard to understand because you have forgotten who you once were and may be again. The past, present and future wraps us in a dangerous web. You may yet remember though it is by no means certain.

Ian's forehead wrinkled. Remember? What does that mean?

Tyiea squeezed his hand as she answered, A rare few among us grow up with the memories of generations in their blood. It is a gift given to the Care-Takers. Have you not noticed? Whenever I take something I give something back.

Tyiea moved to a small rivulet of brackish water and scooped some liquid up in her cupped hands. She then went over to a huge plant whose leathery leaves were larger than she was. Around the edge of each leaf were rows of prickly looking spikes. A hairy mound was at its center. She let the water fall on the mound. She then massaged a portion of the trunk with her fingers. A pale pollen filtered up and back down. As an appealing fragrance enveloped her the mound slowly opened like a mouth revealing rows of fist size pods lining a viscous, scarlet interior. She took three of the pods out and tossed one far down the beach.

Learn from my example Ian. One for each of us. The other will take root and grow. This is a Giea plant. Remember first to give it water. If none is available spit on its trunk and tickle its base. Only then will it open and permit us nourishment. If you try to pry open its center without doing this the leaves may snap shut impaling you in their barbs. The barbs make you sleep but the nut when freely offered is delicious. Nuts from the Giea do not decay and can nourish one for months.

A week of exploration with Tyiea as his guide had convinced Ian that he had been reborn into a world akin but strangely different from his own. He was beginning to accept his situation out of a necessity to survive. In the back of his mind the goal of returning to the life he knew kept him alert to any possibility no matter how far fetched regarding accomplishing that goal.

Tyiea was a good teacher. With the adaptability of youth Ian rebounded psychologically. He felt that he could co- exist with and within this alien environment even if forced to be on his own. This gave him confidence. He could see that Tyiea was pleased with his progress. Ian glanced at his foot. Beside it was a red feather. Tyiea saw it as well. For each day now he had encountered a similar feather but neither sight nor sound of the animal that might have left it. Something was trailing them. Ian thought he saw a shadow in the trees that bordered the beach. Tyiea shivered.

She had denied knowing anything about the creature whose feathers he found. It was clear to Ian that she was hiding something. Ian could see in her eyes both fear and apprehension. He picked up the feather and put it behind his ear. The feather stayed put. It did not fall away from him. This fact seemed to concern Tyiea more than the discovery of the feather itself. She turned and began to walk away from him. Ian followed her, taking a bite from the nut she had given him.

This tastes incredible! he exclaimed. Tyiea turned and smiled.

Now think of something you have craved to eat, she watched his face expectantly.

Ian had been dreaming of a toasted cheese sandwich. Unbelievably, as he thought about the taste and texture of melted cheese, his mouth seemed to fill with it. His eyes widened. Tyiea laughed.

Impossible! Ian blurted out.

Tyiea smiled as she answered. The Giea looks ugly but know that appearances are merely a covering. This plant was one of the first here. Its fruit can interact with your mind. It is thanking you for the service you will perform.

What are you saying?, the young man asked.

Tyiea continued, From plant to animal back to plant again. We change but are also the same. Within its meat are little insects. You cannot digest them. When they leave you they will mulch the earth and prepare the ground for the future colony of Giea they will turn into, guaranteeing the possibility of the plants renewal in a place far from here. What comes in must find its own way out. What we use uses us. The way of things is circular. Learn this if you learn anything. Who is to say this is the only universe. Action and reaction are like knots on a rope of time, so also may they slip into other dimensions. Knowing this is the first small step toward being able to purposefully travel between worlds.

Tyiea turned and began walking further up the beach. Ian nodded his head. He began looking around for similar plants. Thinking as he did that it paid to be more observant of the terrain surrounding him. It was then that he saw it. He watched it watching him. He could barely make out the shape when looking out of the corner of his eye. It formed in the periphery of his vision but when he tried to focus directly on it, the shape seemed to disappear. He saw it among the trees they now turned toward and began walking between. It was more a shadow then anything else. A shadow of a bird. The size and shape of the one that he had encountered in his dream that had talked to him. Wake up, it had said. Wake up. Time to wake up.

Ian tried to concentrate on the shadow but it abruptly dissolved as his attention was interrupted by the sound of a gasp from the lips of Tyiea. She had turned and was facing the direction they had come. Through a break in the trees they had now entered, the sea was just visible. On its horizon was what appeared to be a gigantic ship skirting the protective screen of the fog. It too soon flickered out. Tyiea heaved a sigh of relief. Her pace quickened but the trees seemed to have become depressed, clothing themselves in a despondent shroud. It grew chilly and dark. A mist began to rise from the ground. Out of the mist came a soft indistinct whisper that seemed to come from everywhere at once. It was a voice not unpleasant but carrying the tired weight of great age. Tyiea stepped directly in front of her lover as if trying to screen or protect him. The whispers became distinct and understandable.

He msut be jdeugd. Wehre is he? Binrg him to me. We hvae no mroe tmie. It biols and evoapreats.

Ian looked in the direction Tyiea was now staring. A shape formed. It was a bent, old woman clothed in decaying leaves. The skin on her appeared transparent, thin and very tight as if just managing to cover her bones. Most startling to Ian was the crone's hair. It was both dirty and unkempt, tumbling erratically down beyond her shoulders and waist. There were twigs and sticks in disarray on top of her head, forming into some kind of nest. In the nest was the shape of a gray bird. It looked as if it were wearing checkered pantaloons. Ian could now see that it was actually a change in the color and pattern of feathers that gave that illusion. The creature's tail was a bright red matching the feather stuck behind Ian's ear. The woman looked like a witch. Her face was an erupting mass of petrifying, peeling sores. When she spoke Ian noted with disgust that her tongue seemed abnormally long, split like a snakes.

What in the hell is that! he murmured in amazement.

Tyiea answered. An image of another. Not really here. A mirage made from the substance of realities at hand.

Ian was growing tired of half explanations. Than why are you acting like a guard over me? Who is it an image of?

She who is First in the House of Dreams. My Godmother.

Ian took a step back, My god! Are you related to that?

Tyiea sounded exasperated, We are all related to everything around us. Haven't you discovered that for yourself? Has my time with you been wasted? She grows impatient and calls us to her. We must hurry. If she is angry it will color the judgment. Only by feeding from her strength and knowledge can you hope to survive.

Almost as an afterthought Ian uttered What a mug!

Tyiea shrugged, Perhaps, but know that true evil is often clothed in the most desirable of shapes. There is so much I would say to you if I could. There have been many partings and joinings between us. Don't you feel it? To understand things without feeling the truth behind them would drive you into the arms of the haunted one. In a few hours we will enter the House of Dreamers. There, infinity contracts and Tzimtzum rules. Whatever she wishes comes to be.

I should not be telling you this but she who is first in the House of Dreams needs you as much as she is afraid of you. Tzintzum is old. She lives in and out of dreams, moving constantly between the two. She has lived so long this way that part of her is insane. She's been waiting for you Ian. Just as I have. You will be asked to choose among a group of objects. Let your heart guide your choice. Try to look into things rather then at them. Do you understand? Tzimtzum will try to distract you so that she can get a look into your soul. Remember that your soul is yours and cannot be taken from you unless you surrender it. Sometimes, doing or saying the wrong thing is the right thing to do.

Ian's head began to whirl and ache whether from confusion or the insidious corruption of half-truths he couldn't say. Too much was being asked of him. There was a pleading timbre in his voice. Tyiea, I don't understand you. All this talk of Gate Keepers, Care-Takers, House of Dreams and who or what I may be is confusing me. I want to go back where I came from. I want to wake up.

Tyiea stood motionless for a moment. Her posture was guarded and disapproving. Then she kissed him. It was an act of both desperation and love. You are awake. Truly awake for the first time in your life. What you are asking for is to return to a land of sleep. Ian, you are not a child anymore. You never were. In your blood is the blood of the Old Folk. I prayed that our next joining would come sooner rather than later. I reached out to you in your dreams. Perhaps, we are all doomed because I see you are setting yourself up for failure. If you fail in this you not only fail yourself but me as well. I would not ask you to do anything you were not capable of. You have no idea what is at stake. If you knew that you would fail for sure. Death is not the issue. We've both died many times before. But to be parted from you again...the circle closes and this time we must both remain in the center of it. We are fated to walk together toward failure or out of it. Know that there is something or someone else at stake. Your baby is waking inside of me. I can feel it. The future of that life depends on your strength of will. To try and fail is one thing but to fail to try is inexcusable. Please understand me. I can't help but love you. That was decided long ago. What I want is to be able to respect you.

Ian said nothing. All that mattered to him now was Tyiea. She had never looked more beautiful. He realized in himself that he had seen her many times before over time and she was beautiful then but never as beautiful to him as right now. The realization appeared to break through the clot inside his mind as he caught glimpses of other worlds and strange memories he never guessed he knew.

A string of impressions swarmed behind his eyes, bending and doubling, joining into circles. The impressions were vague and fleeting. He could not put names to the faces or clearly articulate the scenes that rushed through him. It was enough for him just to know that they were there. Ian was aware that he now had something to fight for. The ground below his bare feet seemed to sense his new commitment to the land he now felt a part of. It warmed beneath him and gave to him a part of itself, a solidity of strength and determination. In the midst of crises his childhood passed.

Ian had no idea what was to become of him. He was not sure he wanted to know. What he now felt he did know was that somehow his future, all futures were a question of rising and falling possibilities. Such possibilities were potentialities imbedded in the nexus of time. A web of intertwined relationships moving everything along. Who knows, he thought, maybe it was possible to change time itself and if it were- such a process began from the inside out.

Stay tuned for the next chapter