Asmireen
©2024 by Jonathan Scott
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Chapter 31 - Through a Glass Clearly
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Future Things
21.5     I make you.  But, I make not you happy.  I can not.
21.6     If I make you be happy, then you be not you.
21.7     Instead, I teach.
21.8     If you learn, you be happy.  If you learn not, you be never happy.
21.9     There be no other way.

     Jake woke up and sat up in his bed.  It was a beautiful morning in September.  A bright stream of sunlight poured through the open bedroom window.  By the edge of his bed sat Monk.  Monk had been laying his attractive head down sullenly in hopes that his brooding alone would be enough to wake Jake from his slumber.  Monk had grown to be a close friend.
     "Hey Monk.  Can I get some toast?" asked Jake still waking up.
     Jake remained in bed looking around his room.  The family sword hung in its scabbard above his bed.  Some dirty work gloves lay on the floor next to him.  Jake looked down at his hands to see several blisters.  Now that he was once again a farmer, his hands would have to readjust to the new types of stresses.  He looked at the blisters and almost seemed happy to see them.  Jake sat up and put his feet on the floor.
     Then, from the kitchen came Monk.  He was carrying a plate in his mouth which he very carefully lay on the floor next to Jake's feet.  He then began to repeatedly look up at Jake and then back down at the toast.  It was quite obvious that Monk was begging for some of the food that he had just brought to Jake.  Monk was a very obedient dog.  Although, he was still just a dog.
     Jake picked up the two slices of toast, took a bite out of one and then threw the rest of it to Monk.  Monk contentedly sat down and began to chew.  
     Jake stood, pulled on his clothing and then walked to the kitchen where Hannah stood at a counter making breakfast.
     Jake was back in his old home in William's Peace.  It had been several months since the coming and going of "The Darkness."  No one ever said "The Devil." Now that everyone knew of an absolute assurety that the Devil was real, everyone, out of fear, simply chose to call it "The Darkness" instead.
     Marie sat at the kitchen table playing with some eggs and sausages that were on her plate.  When she saw Jake enter the room, she smiled briefly and then went back to her breakfast.
     Still chewing on his single piece of toast, Jake went outside and enjoyed the sunshine and clean air.  He then walked to the stream near his home and began to do nothing as fully as he could.
     It was good to be home.
     As he walked by the bank of the stream he picked a small handful of wildflowers that were there and held them loosely in his hands.
     A half an hour later, Jake found himself in the center of town.  He had saddled Gideon and silently and slowly road to town with him.  His mind was filled with nothing but welcome memories and welcome emotions.
     He descended from the back of Gideon and walked slowly to the graveyard that stood in the center of town.  The hastily made graveyard markers that he and Hank had made that day had finally been replaced with tombstones.  He walked through the graveyard as one would walk through a garden.  To his right and left, he saw the names of people that he had known his entire life.  He saw the name of the man who used to teach him in school.  He saw the name of the woman who used to run the town store.  He saw another group of names of people that were once young boys and girls that had once been his friends.  He even saw the name of the boy that had laughed at him once, long ago it seemed, when Jake could not finish a recital.  He had been one of the two boys that had saved Jake's life that day.  Jake continued to walk.  There was no contention within him, only memories and gratitude.
     He then began to walk to the graves of each of the members of his family.  He walked to the graves of each and placed a single flower in front of each of the stones.  Below each of these newly placed flowers, there was a small pile of others that sat and dried in the sun.  Jake came here often.  Once each of the flowers had been placed, Jake looked about him, sighed, and returned to Gideon.
     Jake rode home.  He rode slowly as if each of Gideon's paces themselves were an eternity wrapped within a dream.  Jake enjoyed the beautiful emptiness of his mind and soul.  As he returned, he looked off into one of the fields where he saw Isaac holding onto a scythe and unskillfully cutting stalks of wheat.  It reminded him of a dream that he had had once that probably hadn't been a dream at all.  He continued down the path until he returned home.  He put Gideon into his pasture.  He put Gideon's saddle back to its place in the barn.  He walked to his home and opened the door.
     There, on a table, next to a lamp, was a small letter that was addressed to Jake.  Jake casually took it and opened it.  He then sat down to read it in a rocking chair that his mother used to use to put him to sleep.  In his mind, with each rock, he could still feel his mother's warmth and soft voice nearby as if he were still being held.
     Jake unfolded the letter and began to read:

Hey there Jake,
     Well, how fare's it there back in your hometown?  I suppose that it's a welcome change from the hubbub here in Eastbrook.
     Things here, I guess, are as good as we should expect them to be.  The new King isn't due to be born until sometime in February or March.  In some respects, I guess it is good that the old King did us the favor of creating several potential heirs and then leaving this world.  Someone proper can raise them now.  Aren't we lucky that the fool was not a brunette?
     The board of trustees have installed me as the new headmaster of the fighter's guild.  Adam wanted it quite bad, but, the board was simply too afraid of him.  I guess it pays to be genial.
     The guys here all send their hellos off to you.  They miss having you there to clean up their messes.  But, everyone understands.  I doubt there's too many fellas that would rather be cleaning up dead ogres than doing farming for a living.
     Shane sends his regards and says 'You're welcome.'
     We're on our second new boy.  Apparently the first accidentally walked in on a training session with some grizzlies and didn't make it out.  Poor kid.
     Well, we miss you here.  Visit us often if you can.  You're always welcome.  Adam sends his best, as do I.  You take care of yourself now.
     One more thing.  We kind of didn't want to tell you back then, but perhaps we can now.  You once asked us why we stood by you so closely.  You wanted to know why we helped you out and all.  Well, we didn't want to frighten you back then, but do you remember that evening that Hank attacked you?  It was the night when you first found out about him being a ghost and all?  We never told you, but that evening, you weren't just beaten up.  You were dead.  Or at least that's what me and Adam both thought.  You're neck was broke.  We just took you to the healer mostly because we felt like you deserved it.  We didn't have any hope about you coming back at all.  And, well, then you came back, and then me and Adam, we both had ourselves the same dream about you.  With that kind of evidence, you know, you just have to behave it.  And so we did.  Plus, you're a good kid.  We were happy to help you.
          Take care then, OK?

Zeb

     Jake held the letter in his hands and looked concerned.  He had died!  It's possible he had even died more than once.  How surprising...
     Jake stood and walked to his bedroom.  He then took the letter from Zeb, placed it back into its envelope and then put it into a box of other letters that were on a shelf over his bed.
     "Well, I guess I should get some work done today." said Jake who was happy to be able to say it.
     He then walked out of his room and out the front door to work in the fields with Isaac.  Monk, who had been lying on Jake's bed, raised his head slightly, watched Jake walk out, and then lay his head back down where he immediately fell asleep and began to dream of chasing little red lizards.
     It was a good dream.


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