Companions

(continued)

By Mark Joseph Kiewlak

My older self, meantime, had gone below deck and shut himself up in his cabin. He found himself pregnant with anger and frustration. Each moment in this strange land came unforced. Each action unfolded naturally. The way of the land was peace, inner peace, and he could feel its attempts to pervade every cell in his body. That he struggled against it only made it worse, for this was the cause of his frustration. But he knew no other way.

There was a knock at the door, and in walked the ship's doctor, my older self's most trusted companion.

"My joints don't hurt," he said. "My body feels ten years younger."

"Perhaps that's another effect of this place. Perhaps we'll be in diapers before the day is out."

"What's got you so angry?" he said. "Most of the crew are happier than I've ever seen them."

"We didn't earn this place. We found it by accident. We don't — any of us — deserve to be here."

The doctor rested a hand on my older self's shoulder. "You've always had difficulty," he said, "accepting the grace that finds you."

This did not help with my anger.

"Is that what this is all about?" my older self asked. "My needs? My journey?"

"Perhaps it is," the doctor said, smiling. "Perhaps you're on a journey across the universe just to find yourself. With all of us in tow."

As my older self contemplated this, the younger me came upon a glen. He had been walking for several hours, away from the meadow and his companions, enjoying the scenery, breathing in the beauty. Yet, his heart was still racing, and his hand was never far from his sword.

The glen was lined with all manner of flora, vivid shapes and contoured colors, all alien to him, every shape and color he had ever imagined, and many he hadn't. It would be easy to spend a lifetime in any one spot. But, of course, he was an explorer born and never more glad of this than when he spied, peeking out from behind an ancient tree trunk on the far side of a shimmering silver lake, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The younger me drew his sword and held it above his head as he waded out into the water.

The older me stared out the portal, alone again, and reaching the peak of his misery. He watched his men out in the tide, playing with the starshine, splashing one another and laughing. He heard the thunderous sounds of dancing from up on deck. He glanced at his timepiece. Hours now, and still no one to greet them. Still no word from his younger self.

"Time to go," he muttered to himself. "Time to be gone from this place before we lose ourselves completely."

He spun sharply on his heel and headed up on deck.

The beautiful woman, meanwhile, had emerged from behind the tree trunk and padded barefoot to the edge of the silver lake. The younger me noticed that her body was steaming ever so slightly, putting out a soft mist that spun in tiny funnels before exhausting itself into the ether. Her hair flowed down over her shoulders in an interweaved pattern so complicated that he had to look away, or risk being lost all day in admiring its intricacies.

Nearly up to his neck in water, my younger self gestured with his sword, hoping to toss it to her and then swim the intervening distance. He wanted to call to her, but something inside told him not to shatter the beauty of this place with unnatural language.

Before anything else could happen, the beautiful woman dipped her foot into the silvery water and began to change. The surface of her skin began to ripple, taking on all the properties of the lake itself. She was being drawn into it and it into her, its boundaries shrinking, as the mist which arose from her skin became a cloud, the tiny funnels now cyclones. My younger self suddenly realized that it was his desire affecting her in this way, that she was the lake, surrounding him on all sides. He was using her up too quickly, leaving nothing to replenish itself. In another instant she and the lake were gone, burned off, and he was left alone, still holding the sword meaninglessly over his head.

By this time, my older self had the entire crew assembled on deck, standing at attention, each suppressing an inward smile as he marched back and forth before them. Any hint of celebration, any gleam in the eye was immediately and forcefully reprimanded. He was determined not to lose a single man to paradise.

"Where is my younger self?"

Those men who had been with him at the doorway gave account of their adventure. When they were finished, my older self stared hard at his options and then ordered his crew to prepare to set sail. He would hear no protests. Just as they were about to get underway, a voice erupted through the tension.

"It's a woman!"

All eyes turned to behold my younger self as he strode boldly along the shoreline.

"Say again?"

"This entire place — it's a woman!"

Despite a strong compulsion, my older self would not leave the ship. And so the conversation was carried out in this manner, one half of me standing at the rail while the other half stood in the welcoming tide.

My younger self was passionate, as always. "Don't you see?" he said. "It's what we've always wanted but never allowed ourselves to have: a place to settle down, to call home; someone to come home to. This place, all of it, is imbued with that aspect of our desire. It responds to and calls forth only our highest ideals. It's a dream made manifest."

My older self was whispering now, searching for answers. "A dream made manifest. Could it be? Perhaps" — and he was shouting now, to his other self, to everyone — "Perhaps this is all the product of a great imagination, a being trying to know itself, to accept itself. Perhaps this whole world is a story being told — as a means of understanding! We each must play our part."

My younger self was intrigued. "But isn't it our role, then, to accept paradise? To give into its embrace?"

I knew then that the experiment had served its purpose and that my two selves would soon be reunited. I had felt what it was like to be an aspect of a greater self and to exhibit control over space and time, to attempt to learn mastery of my environment and, most importantly, myself.

"So do we live our life here with her, or do we continue exploring?"

My younger self was back aboard ship now, the adventure drawing to a close.

"Perhaps we do both," my older self said. "We await the day when we're comfortable enough with our own beings to allow this place to exist for all of us. We continue exploring ourselves until we're ready, at last, to live here. And we move forward, carrying this vision of paradise — carrying her — inside of us."