Dell

Dell

"Bigger lions, Dell. Bigger Prey."

Merol

Twice Mara had tried to get Dell alone after their walk a week ago.  But Dell had returned his full attention to freeing his family that was held captive only a few miles away.  Close to twenty Worshippers had come to help them in some way though Dell just hasn’t figured out exactly how.  They had come with body armor and weapons.  Most had machetes and all had a Q.placement rifle.  The ‘Q’ was a single shot medium range rifle that was manufactured in bulk over fifteen years ago.  A worshiper named Don told him it was the straightest shot for any similarly ranged weapon made in Newtopia.  This highly militant group of worshipers did occasionally worship, Dell observed.  Their rituals involving candles and mediations were short.  Don would sit still for fifteen minutes against a tree, eyes open staring, “at nothing, and everything,” he would say. “Some who are wiser and stronger than me will rarely leave their deep meditative state.  They will return if for nothing else to reassure us they are still alive.”

“Won’t they starve or, like, piss themselves?” Dell had asked.

“Sometimes, yes.  I have seen some die of hunger having gone over to the infinite before their death.  But most of those things can be done without exiting meditation.  You see some here are deep into it now.”  Don had pointed around the camp and settled on one who was eating and staring into a fire.

“He’s just day-dreaming,” Dell pointed out.

“No, and yes.  Day-dreaming is a sweet fruit of the infinite but it is often underutilized.  What Gabe is doing there is pacing on the fringe of the infinite and may return to us or go to the unknown.”

“So when you’re day-dreaming you’re like on the fence.” Dell suggested.  Don had nodded slowly and reluctantly.  Dell believed their meditation to be nothing more than an admirable way to combat boredom.  The past few days had been so bitterly slow he wouldn’t mind counting to infinity once or twice.

He had avoided Mara because she made him feel guilty whenever he thought of the kiss.  He had a crush on her but also had a family waiting, worried.  The night hours he had spent enjoying her company and mystery were just more hours he spent in the woods.  The smell of dirt and sting of cool mornings began to anger him.  The brief meetings held between Merol, Dell’s guide, Don, Lawerence, a middle-age Newtopian with a slim, long nose and a slim long neck, and Abby hardly seemed to get them anywhere.  Abby was one of Mara’s relatives and spoke as a representative of Mara’s father since Mara wasn’t old enough.  They would talk for a few minutes about the group’s security, then of Dell’s family’s security.  Then they would conclude with a short stare which annoyed Dell.  Dell, having been encouraged to join the meetings, once spoke up. “With all due respect I want to know the plan.  How are we going to free my family?  And get the government guys away from my house?”  They said nothing so he continued, smiling then opening his arms showing his wide wing span. “You have brought more than enough firepower to take them out. There’s only six, maybe seven of them.”

“These men are like a muscle of the whole body.  If we tug at them or kill them the whole body will react.  And it will not get rid of them but only bring more.” Don answered not unkindly.

“Ok, but why don’t we kill the guys, take my family, and come live with you under the Pan-Atlantic.”  Dell had referred to Valen, the Worshipers place of worship, that rested somewhere beneath the large river that bisected the western half of Newtopia.

“For your family’s sake we dare not.” Abby stated as if to end the debate. 

                After the meeting Merol slapped him on the back with a heavy hand and said, “Bigger lion, Dell. Bigger, prey.”  Merol walked away at that and made a low gurgle before sending a brightly colored ball of phlegm to the damp bed of leaves below.  Then Abby came up to him and pulled him aside.

                “Patience buddy,” she said in a lighter tone than at the meeting, “you’re a big part of this. I can’t imagine being in your shoes but from where I’m standing I’ll do what I can. Merol,” she lowered her voice, “Merol and Oblivion, who is Mara’s father, are biting off more than they can chew.  They want to see what agency these men are from.  So we have to wait. But as for yourself, well, you have to do for you.  And Mara will too.”   Dell’s stomach lurched at Mara’s name bringing blood to his head and things seemed to blur.  The feeling moored in his stomach waiting for Abby to condemn him.  “She just doesn’t know what you want and that makes her anxious.  Of course she won’t say anything to these people.  You don’t command them but they watch you and so does Mara.”  Dell reached out and grabbed nothing and looked around considering what Abby had said.  She not scolding me but what is she saying? Dell wondered.

                “I’ll have to think about that, thanks.”  And Dell walked away. 

The dialoged he had had with Abby blurred with the bleak overcast gray that hung over them, the slithery layer of wet leaves below, and the cool damp air that hung around the camp.  It blurred for the rest of the day and was generally confusing to him.  But that night Merol’s brief phrase stuck with him: Bigger lion, Dell.  Bigger Prey.  And when Dell laid down in the river-side dirt bed it grew louder and wider inside him that night.  What role do I play? Then another phrase Merol had told him came to mind: tomorrow is a jungle so watch for lions and steep slopes.  But remember that lion meat is as good as any and steep slopes often lead to fresh water. Dell wondered who the lions were and where the proverbial steep slopes were. Am I the lion? 

                He sat up for an instant in the middle of the night and it’s dark, “it’s not about the lion,” Dell said quietly out-loud.  Abby didn’t want to scare me from Mara. She wanted me to ask Mara and the others for help. If Merol and Oblivion are busy chasing bigger prey then I have to look out for my family however I can.