Unplugged: The Beautiful World (#3, Unplugged Trilogy)

Chapter Thirty

Enna

I wake with an echoing gasp, my hands splayed behind me on a mix of withering grass and dead leaves. My stomach jolts and I jump to my feet; I'm at the dead forest again. Each physical sensation feels so real that I know I can't possibly be dreaming. How did I get here? Does this have something to do with my strange new ability? Suddenly anxious for answers, I call out. My voice rings throughout the empty forest.
"Father?"
"Those who seek will find." The voice comes from right behind my ear. I yelp and spin around, facing the same sandy-haired man with the dirt-colored robe. The black-and-white leaved tree continues to thrive behind him.
"Did you have to stand so close?" I snap, trying to soothe my nerves. "You almost gave me a heart attack!" Father chuckles and his eyes crinkle up at the edges.
"I just love to play with you, Enna, that's all!"
Go play with your tree, I think crossly, glaring at the leafy floor.
"Oh, but trees are so much more boring than people, aren't they?" I snap my head up to look at Father, eyes wide.
"How did you know what I was--?"
"Thinking?" He blows a short raspberry. "I told you, I'm the Creator."
"So you can read minds... What else can you do?" I ask earnestly.
"It's more like, what can't I do? And the answer to that would be nothing." Father laughs jovially and starts to stroll over to the living tree. I stay put, biting my lip. He glances over his shoulder at me.
"Come, come, child! I haven't brought you here so you could stare at me like an owl!" Strangely amused, I walk over to the tree. The colors seem to grow brighter and brighter the closer I get to it, and soon I notice a gleaming red apple that hangs from one of the higher branches. In a trance, I reach out an arm to grab it. Father gently pulls my hand away.
"Why can't I touch it?" I ask, feeling awkwardly disappointed. Father's expression suddenly becomes darker, and he motions around at the surrounding vegetation.
"This dead forest used to be a garden paradise. All of creation was connected to the same life force; therefore, everything was one. But one day, creation became curious. It longed to be able to make its own choices. The creation longed to know the difference between good and evil." I stare at the black and white leaves of the tree, all mingling and intertwining on the same branches. "Being a loving Creator, I could not deny my children the free will they so often asked for. In response to their wishes, I opened their eyes to good and evil. But in so doing, I introduced the concept of duality." Father nods towards the ripe fruit that tantalizingly dangles from an upper branch of the tree.
"What happened next?" I whisper.
"The fruit of duality is never positive. Think about it: if someone punches you in the face, how would you see them from then on out?"
"I'd try to avoid them," I admit.
"Precisely. Now, imagine that you no longer see things as 'good' or 'bad'. You just see things as existing. You see them as another part of yourself. How would you then respond to an attacker?" I pause for a moment, carefully thinking about my answer.
"I'd figure that there must be a reason it happened," I reply. "If I were really connected to everything, and something negative happened to me, I'd think that there must have been a problem within me to initiate it in the first place."
"Yes!" Father declares, clapping his hands. I shake my head and back away from the tree.
"Wait... How does this have anything to do with me? I'm at Lucy's house, asleep!"
"That story was for you and you alone to decipher. The real point you're here is because I want to help you develop and cope with your new abilities." My heart suddenly plummets and I grow light-headed.
"I was hoping this wasn't about that," I mutter. My hands start to shake and Father grabs my shoulders. He doesn't continue until I look him in the eyes. His irises gleam kindly, and I realize that I can't quite tell what color they are.
"What you did to those guards was no mistake. And it's not just you that has that kind of power. Every person contains part of me inside of them, so every person can do anything through me. But, Enna, you are the only person who acts on that truth." I stitch my brow.
"What are you talking about?"
"When Matthew told you that you are feared by the government, he was very correct in saying so."
"You know Matthew?" I gasp, suddenly wondering if I'm still lying with him in bed. Father smiles a little.
"Of course I know him. And yes, he has no idea you've gone." I've got to get used to him reading my thoughts! I stare at him, mind reeling; Father says that everyone has this power, but what exactly is the power?
"I didn't... kill those guards, did I?"
"No."
"Then what happened?" I ask desperately. Father leads me over to a particularly thick wall of dead greenery on one side of the clearing.
"Close your eyes." I oblige him. "Now, picture this section of leaves, very clearly. Picture them spreading apart in the center to reveal a beautiful garden, teeming with people and colors and any lovely thing you can imagine."
Feeling slightly stupid, I envision a small hole in the vines and branches, slowly spreading outward to expose a place more beautiful than anything I've ever seen. Bright blue waterfalls cascade over large stones, people eat and play on an expansive emerald lawn, and wildlife thrives in the air, in the water, and on the ground. I smile for a moment; my fingertips buzz as if conducting electricity.
"Now open your eyes." Father's voice seems to drift from a far off place, and I wake from my island of thought. The weightless sensation subsides and once again I bear the worries and trivialities of my regular life. "What happens when you try to picture that place now?"
"I..." I strain to regain the sense of infinite possibility, but my efforts fall flat. All I can see is the dead forest in front of me. My stomach drops. "I can't do it."
"Now, answer me this, my child," Father whispers. His voice rings inside my head like he were speaking to me through Jewels. "Why is it so much easier to dream with our eyes closed?"
"Because..." I start to answer, but then I realize that it was a rhetorical question. My throat grows dry. "What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying that pain, suffering, fear, and death are all part of one grand illusion," he explains. "But they seem just as real as the realities those RScreens portray. When you weren't forced to examine this dreary reality, suddenly you could imagine a wonderful place. That place made you feel something, so--in a sense--it became real for you." I sit down on the ground, trying to stop my head from spinning in nauseating circles. What does Father mean? That everything is just in my mind? My stomach heaves, and I feel like I'm about to be sick.
"No, Enna. Things aren't just in your mind," he says gently, joining me on the grass. "I know this is way too much to swallow in one sitting, but I felt I needed to assure you."
"You're not really helping with that," I mutter, biting the inside of my cheek. Father sighs.
"Do you know why I led you to avoid being plugged in?" He asks suddenly. I pause in the middle of a breath. My gaze bores into him, but he doesn't seem to mind, casually smiling up at the grim vines and tree branches that form a canopy above us.
"What did you say?"
Father repeats the question. I hurriedly get to my feet, almost tripping over stray twigs and weeds.
"Don't be afraid, child! You must understand that I am always guiding you!"
"Then tell me why." He remains silent and I ball my fists. "Why?"
"Because you were the only hope I sensed for the world." I stare at Father, dumbstruck. He casually scratches his neck. "Everyone everywhere was being plugged in with those infernal screens! Their reality became a constant, unending game of duality that was unbreakable. I couldn't intervene directly with their choices to be plugged in, because of free will. Yes, being Unplugged grew to be an option, but it happened so infrequently that the gesture became meaningless! You, Enna, have a foundational goodness inside you that I couldn't have destroyed."
"Destroyed?" I ask. Father's eyes suddenly begin to fill with tears of anguish, and a wave of heartbreak crashes through me until I myself almost begin to cry. I can tell that the emotion is not my own but, somehow, Father's.
"I had resigned myself to the fact that what remained of humanity would only lead to more destructive regimes if free will remained. I told myself that I was going to start over once the percentage of evil overcame the percentage of goodness."
"Start over," I mouth to myself. A sadness and fear boils in my veins, this time my own. I raise my voice so Father can hear me, even though I know he could read my mind if he wanted to. "What's the percentage now?"
"Way past what I'd originally set it at," he says. "When I examined the innocence of your spirit, I realized that I still had a chance to turn things around through you."
"Through?"
"I have spoken to you, yes? And you have heeded my instructions, yes?" I nod, starting to feel overwhelmed. I remember when the voice led us to the Base, when I was instructed to "Save them"...
"So what are you saying? That I'm the only person with any good still in them? That I'm the only one who can do what's right?"
"Heavens, no!" Father exclaims, jumping to his feet. I marvel at how flexible he is for a man of his age. And then, right before my very eyes, he turns into a little girl with straight, blond hair. I scream, and the trees swallow up the sound. My heart races. I scream again, crawling backwards over the stringy foliage. The child observes me calmly.
"Father? Where did you go?" I call out, stumbling to my feet in an effort to get away from the little girl.
"I'm right here," Ariel says softly. Her face crinkles in a joyful expression. Somehow, she seems much older. I pause and look into her eyes. I gasp: it is Father. Hyperventilating, I carefully walk towards her. She doesn't make any quick moves, just follows me with her gaze. When I reach her, I poke her arm. She giggles. It feels warm and solid.
"What the--?"
"I come in many forms," Ariel says. She chuckles. "Never assume that I will always appear like an old man."
"That's amazing," I splutter, pinching my arm in the process. I'm definitely not dreaming.
"Pretty cool, huh?" Ariel says, wiggling her eyebrows. "Check this out." Suddenly, Ariel disappears to be replaced by Matthew. I almost scream again, catching myself at the last second. He smiles warmly at me, the way he always does. I feel like hugging him, but then my uncertainty kicks in.
"You asked if I think you are the only one who can do what's right," Matthew says. "And that's absolutely wrong."
"Does Matthew know you too?" I ask. It feels incredibly awkward to talk to Matthew about himself.
"Yes," Father says through Matthew. "Everyone knows me, to some extent. May it be in the form of love or joy or creativity... Matthew is far along the path of his journey, though maybe not as far as you. He was my gift to you to help you discern what's right and what is not." I find myself smiling a little, comforted by his familiar voice. I reach out to grab his hand when he is suddenly replaced by another man I don't recognize. The new man has short brown hair, a rounded face, and stands half a foot taller than me. I look up at him, nervous.
"Do you know who I am, Enna?" The man asks with a small smile. The sound of his voice--gentle yet slightly rough--travels under my skin and through my bones. Brief flashes of images surface in my mind: my mother, tearfully saying farewell to this man; this man, carrying me up a dark, narrow staircase; this man, laying me down on a small pink bed in a tiny apartment. My mouth falls open, and my lips tremble harder than I thought possible.
"Dad," I choke. The man nods and spreads his arms wide, smiling with his mouth closed. Throwing away any remaining traces of fear, I sprint forward and embrace Father. My tears spill over his shoulder.