XLVIII.
The Abzu
Vagari found himself adrift in the Aether, floating above a world that was formless and empty. An ocean of darkness flowed over the surface, deep and engulfing waters that had infinite depth, and infinite possibilities. Vagari was a ghost of himself, a phantom, a spirit watching this fledgling world from outside space and time. It seemed beyond his grasp, and yet close enough that he knew he could reach out and touch the waters’ surface if he so wished it. Like in the Creation of Adam, he outstretched his arm but found himself pulled back upon by all the forces of the universe, by the unforgiving riptide of eternity. He fought against it. With all his might, all his sense of being, Vagari held out his hand and touched the surface of the nothingness.
As soon as his finger broke the water’s surface, those unimaginable depths engulfed him, drawing him in, tugging him free from the void behind him. Instantly, in tune with his thoughts of home – past, present, and future – that nothingness became sky; an ocean below; a world mottled with life and land; existence. Just as his journey into the Abzu had begun, Vagari fell from a great height. He fell from starry skies, speckled seas cold and ruthless in their fluxing eddies, down into a world of knowing, into a world of warmth, of solidity, of reality. He fell into a world he could truly know. Vagari wanted nothing more than to be in that world once again, to feel the ground beneath his feet, the warm desert breeze upon his face, the sun on his back. It was so close, so near to him. No longer was it out of reach, out of time, beyond the realm of comprehension. All he had to do was fall.
The coarse croaking of birds drew his attention as he fell. A murder as black as the void he had just escaped had grown vast on the horizon. It was upon him in seconds. Thousands of birds flocked around him, cawing, pecking, grabbing at him with their claws, trying frightfully to pull him away from the absoluteness below, from the world he so desperately wished to return to. No. No, they wouldn’t have him! They wouldn’t take him back to that emptiness he had been trapped in for GOD knows how long! It felt like ages – months, years, lifetimes. No, he wouldn’t let them. Vagari fought, slashing, clawing, and kicking, screaming at the top of his lungs at the ebon flock surrounding him. They cried out in return, cawing and crowing as their number fell and their intensity grew. The birds clawed and bit, tugged and pulled, unrelenting as their numbers dwindled more and more with the ferocity of his struggle against them. Finally, it proved too much, and the flock broke away, their croaks and cackles almost sounding like pleading words as they did so – mournful and desperate.
Vagari, worn and wearied by the encounter, suddenly found himself in a losing battle of consciousness, no longer able to keep his eyes open. It didn’t matter though, he thought, as the safety of integrity was not far below. He would be home on solid ground, back in the mundane world of reality – his reality, hopefully. The Abzu led to many places, Tehom’s words of warning haunted his mind. Would it be his world he was returning to, or another entirely? Did it matter? In that instance, he didn’t feel like it did. Anyplace was better than being trapped in that void a moment longer. So, Vagari shut his eyes and let the darkness take him.
Vagari awoke with a start at the insistent shaking of his shoulder. “Wake up, you bum,” urged a familiar voice. “If you’re going to laze about my shop, I’m going to put you to work.”
“Alto?” Vagari whispered, putting a name to the voice. The toadish man stood before him as hale and healthy as he’d ever been. Vagari couldn’t tell why but seeing him was enough to bring tears to his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” Alto asked suspiciously, wiping his hands off on his tattered apron. “Your eyes are watering.”
“I don’t know,” Vagari admitted, dabbing at the corners of his eyes. “I’m just… so very glad to see you.”
“Well… Huh. I’m glad to see you too,” Alto offered kindly before adding, “but don’t think getting sentimental will get you out of work, old man! Inspections is coming and if I want to get that loan, this place has to be spotless!” Alto turned to holler over his shoulder. “Spotless, you hear?” he shouted. “Not just surface level like last time, Soprano!”
As if on cue, Soprano poked her head over the checkout counter. Her already wide mouth was contorted into a cringe. “I know,” she insisted. “You don’t need to keep telling me, dad!”
“Look what your job so far has done,” Alto claimed, pointing a thumb at Vagari over his shoulder. “Made the old man cry!”
“It’s probably just all the dust,” Soprano denied, waving a filthy rag at them. “I don’t know why we had to get rid of the imp, it kept this place spotless.”
“The imp is why we need to get a loan in the first place,” whined Alto as if hosting the demon hadn’t been his idea. “The fines are killing us! And you don’t want your dad to go to jail, do you?”
“I guess not…” Soprano uttered unconvincingly before doubling down on the scrubbing.
“You guess not?!” Huffed Alto in disbelief. “Guess, she says! Guess! You see what I have to deal with, Vagari? Teenagers – hmph!”
Vagari laughed as he pushed himself up and onto his feet. “Okay-okay, my friend. Where do you need me?” Vagari asked. Alto seemed to think about it for a moment, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “Well, now how about you grab that oil there on the shelf and oil the door?”
“About time someone does it,” Vagari said with a huff as he reached for the oil. “It’s been bugging me for literal ages.” Vagari took the oil and strode over to the door. He lifted it to the hinges but right when he made to oil them something struck the door. “What the hell?” he cursed with the bang. Vagari stood there in shock as the something struck again two more times. Bang! Bang!
“Well, open it up!” Alto hollered. “Maybe it’s the guy?!”
“Don’t you have an appointment or something?” muttered Vagari, more to himself than his friend. He reached for the handle and opened the door. “Hello?”
At first Vagari thought it had been nothing as no one stood on the other side, but then the rustling of feathers drew his attention lower. “Well, what is it?” Alto called from inside.
“A bird,” Vagari announced, staring down at what appeared to be a crow lying on the ground. It was dead or dying, it appeared. “Must have thrown itself at the door and broke its neck.”
“Well, that’s just sad,” Soprano said mournfully, “poor thing.”
“Yeah, poor thing,” Vagari echoed, staring down at the lifeless creature. There was something about it, something familiar that he couldn’t place. He knelt over and scooped it up in his hands. He looked it over. It was black as night but had a weird eerie green glow to its plumage. “Weird…” Vagari noted. “I feel like I’ve seen this bird before…”
“Yeah, probably pecking at a corpse,” Alto chimed in flatly. “Drop that thing and go wash your hands before you catch something.” Vagari sighed and put the bird down. “You’re probably right,” he offered. “And it really doesn’t matter I guess.”
Vagari shut the door and paused for a moment. He just stared at the door, waiting for another knock. Not hearing it he deemed it safe to return to the hinges. Now with the hinges well lubricated, Vagari turned around, saying, “Alright, Alto, what’s next?”
“What’s next?” a woman returned. “Wash some of those potatoes we picked up, won’t you Eddy?”
“Sephora, is that you?” Vagari uttered in confusion.
“Who else would it be?” she asked with a chuckle as she prepped a roast on the countertop. “Now, are you going to wash those potatoes or not?”
“Y-yeah, sorry,” Val said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m just a bit out of it, I guess. I thought… Thought I was someplace else.”
“Nope – you’re here with me, at least for the next forty-eight hours,” Sephora said assuredly. “They really work you too damned hard at that place. I’d ask what they have you doing that you’re always half-dead when you get home, but I know you can’t tell me.”
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“Yeah – work has been kicking my ass lately,” Val said with a sigh, taking the bag of potatoes from the counter before making his way to the sink. “How many?”
“Four or five – no, let’s say six. I want some for lunch tomorrow,” she’d answer, shifting from the roast to the sticks of celery she had waiting on a cutting board. “I know you like it that way, but I don’t want it to be all meat.” She started chopping. “So, what can you tell me about work?”
“Just that we’re doing something really important,” Val said with a breathy laugh. “Think world changing. Probably the most important thing I’ve ever done.”
Sephora clicked her tongue. She always did that when she wanted to say something but knew she shouldn’t. “The second most important thing,” Val corrected with a warm smile over his shoulder.
“Maybe the third,” Sephora stated with a glance down at her belly and the baby within.
“Definitely,” Val lied as he scrubbed away at the potatoes. “No…” He stammered, catching himself in the lie. “No, definitely.” He stopped scrubbing and turned around to face her. “You’re the most important thing in my life. I know I don’t tell you enough, but you are… I’d quit this job if you asked me to.”
Sephora stopped chopping and just stood in silence for a minute as if thinking of the proper response. “Who are you?” She’d ask.
“What? What do you mean?” Val questioned, taken off guard. She’d turn around and say it again, this time with a loving smile plastered across her face. “Who are you and what did you do with my husband?” She chortled and drew near, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Eddy, if you say this is important, I believe you.” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips. “Besides, it isn’t forever. Once your mountain is climbed, they won’t need you as much anymore, and then you’re all mine. Now,” she pushed away, “hurry up with those potatoes!”
Eddy nodded surely and turned around with a smile, turned around to fields of golden grass that stretched out as far as the eye could see, to the stoney base of a mountain range. Vagari stood there in shock. Hadn’t he just been somewhere else? No, no he hadn’t been anywhere else for the last ten years, not him or Barbra. Vagari looked to the yellow-orange poppies growing at his feet in the sand, then shifted his gaze to the wind-bent trees that dotted the landscape. Calivada, the coast, his home. He sighed peacefully and shut his eyes. He could hear the wind blowing across the plains, the coyotes howling in the distance, a sign night was falling. He was at peace here, far from civilization, far from the people that lived there, and far from the world he helped create. Here he only had to worry about two things – him and Barbra.
A noise drew his attention. Opening his eyes he looked back to the little cabin he built with his own two hands, to the source of the sound within. It was Barbra crying out. She was having one of her fits again. Vagari sighed and made his way back to the cabin. She was probably hungry or wanted to be moved to the window again. “Okay-okay, I’m here,” Vagari announced, opening the door. To his surprise, he found the cabin empty and silent, no Barbra in sight. “Barb?” Vagari called out cautiously. “Barb, where did you go?”
Something croaked and chattered, drawing his attention to the open window across the room. It was a bird, a crow, perched upon the windowsill. For a moment Vagari just stared at it. There was something familiar about it, something he couldn’t quite place. Vagari shook away the feeling with a shake of his head. Throwing his hands up, he hollered, “Hey – get out of here! Go on, get!” The crow cawed angrily and flapped its wings. In the dancing shadows of the hovel, it had an iridescent sheen to its feathers, a soft green glow that moved with the darkness. Vagari couldn’t help but think he saw the bird someplace before, not another bird like it, but the very same one.
Vagari clapped his hands, hooted and hollered, giving his best intimidating display, but the bird was having none of it. Instead, it just sat there and cawed insistently, as if he were the intruder. Finally, when his defeat became evident, he hissed and threw his hands up one last time. Turning his back to it, he’d then say, “Fine, you want to be a nuisance – you go right ahead! I have more important things to deal with than you. I need to find Barbra before she hurts herself.” He wouldn’t find her. Looking the cabin over inside and out, there was no sign of her. It was as if she had simply disappeared. All the while more of the crows showed up. Now the surrounding trees were full of them, all croaking and cawing to each other as they watched over his fruitless search. Vagari half expected to find Barbra dead, the draw of the birds, but he found nothing at all. She was just gone.
Vagari slid his hands down his face, wrought with worry and confusion. Where could she have gone? She could barely move on her own. The crows only cackled at his plight. “What?! What do you want?!” Vagari shouted at them. He picked up a stone and wound up for the throw. “Leave me alone!” The flock erupted around him, swarming in a hurricane of feathers as they all took to the sky. Vagari dropped the stone and covered his head, sinking down to his knees as the tormenting birds passed over him. He shut his eyes and waited for the battering of their wings, their pecks and scratches, but they’d never come. Instead, there was silence, sudden and all encompassing.
Vagari could hear his heart racing in his chest. It felt as if it were going to burst out of him. Then, as suddenly as the silence had enveloped him, a cry broke it – the soft and distant cries of a newborn. Val opened his eyes to a world of white and sterility. He crept to his feet, eyes wide as he looked all around him. He was in the lobby of a hospital. Hadn’t he been somewhere else? Work – right. He got the call and rushed down as soon as he was able. “You alright, Val?” Malcolm would say with a shake of his shoulder. “You good? Not gonna throw up, are you? I know it’s a big moment, but you gotta keep yourself together.”
Right, the big moment – the birth of his child. Val wiped his brow and shook his head. “I’m alright, I’m…” he began, pausing for a moment with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. “I just… thought I was somewhere else.”
“Where else would you be, Val?” Malcolm asked with a huff before leaning in and saying in a whisper, “You on the sauce again? You promised me you’d quit that shit… Don’t go fucking this up for you and Seph.”
“No – no, I’m not,” Val said in defense, “I promise. I haven’t touched the stuff since…” and image flashed before his mind: an obelisk, shattered glass, people screaming. Malcolm shook him by the shoulder again, saying, “Good – I’m trusting you on that, brother. Now let’s go. Seph is waiting.”
“Right – right, lets go,” Val said, his words nearly stuck in his throat.
The walk to the hospital room felt like it was done in a trance, as if he had blinked and was suddenly there. Val stood outside the room, heart racing. He could hear his infant daughter crying inside, and yet he couldn’t will himself to step over the threshold. Val looked over his shoulder for his friend but saw nothing but an empty hallway behind him. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. What was he so afraid of? This was the most important moment of his life, and all he had to do was be there. Val reached for the door handle and turned it. With a sigh he opened the door. There she was, Sephora, as beautiful as he had ever seen her, sitting up in the hospital bed, holding their daughter tight to her chest. She smiled at him. “You’re late Eddy,” Sephora said. “Let me guess, work?”
“I’m sorry,” Val stammered, closing the door behind him. “I got here as soon as I could.”
“You’re here, and that’s all that matters,” she said, motioning him to come nearer. “Meet your daughter.”
Val reached out and took the baby into his arms. She was so tiny, so perfect. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as he stared down at her, the most important thing he had ever done. “Hello,” Val said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “I’m your father.” Suddenly there was a bang as something struck the hospital window. Val held the baby close, eyes wide in shock. Bang! The something struck again. The lights flickered above before dying completely, casting the room into darkness. “Sephora!” Val called out but would get no answer. All that remained where she had been was an empty hospital bed. Bang! Val backed away in a panic, holding onto his daughter for dear life. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he whispered to her, “it’s going to be alright…” He tested the door handle, but it was stuck as if locked from the other side. With a curse, Val pounded on the door. “Open up! Please, open up!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! The window erupted in a shower of glass that sent Val cowering in the corner, shielding his infant daughter with his body. Val glanced over his shoulder at the destruction. Crows, a whole flock, burst through the opening into the room. Val stared in horror as the murder whirled throughout the room, flapping wildly in a whirlwind of black feathers. He held his daughter tight to his breast, shielding her from harm. The birds, they were there for her, he just knew it – there to take his happiness away. “Please,” Val pleaded desperately, “don’t take her! Don’t take her away from me!”
“Remember…” a voice echoed out from the twisting flock of crows, “what you see here, what you feel, what you are is an illusion, reflections of infinite realities.”
“No… No!” Val said, glancing down at his daughter, “This is real! She’s real! I can feel her heart beating!” He looked down to find not the hands of a man clutching the baby, but the claws of a monster. “No-no-no-no…” he sputtered out frantically. “Don’t take this from me! She’s real – she’s real – she’s real…” Vagari chanted, sobbing at the nothingness he held in his hands. She was gone, just like Sephora, just like Malcolm, just like Barbra. Gone. Just like with so many others, all that remained was Vagari.
Vagari sobbed into his clenched fists, crying for the beautiful lie that had been taken from him. It wasn’t real, she wasn’t real, none of it was. Vagari had fallen prey to a vicious fantasy, trapped in a realm of comforting lies. He swallowed hard and staggered to his feet. He now recognized where he had seen the crows. They were the birds from New Houston. “Green means go…” Vagari mouthed to himself, watching as the flock pulsed with an eerie emerald light. The whirlwind died down, fading from existence until only one bird remained.
Vagari stared at the crow, divining its meaning. It wasn’t there to harm him, but to help instead. The flock had tried to keep him from this place, tried to keep him from being consumed by the fantasy it built for him. He was trapped there, in a prison of his own making, but someone was trying to break him out. But who? “BP, is that you?” Vagari uttered softly, the memories of where he was and what he was sent there to do trickling back into his mind. Vagari pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. It was the hardest thing he had to do, to let go of the lie. But that was all it was, a lie. He had to go back, had to face reality once more – they needed him. Vagari grit his teeth and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I’m ready, BP,” he announced mournfully, “lead the way.”