THE CAT'S MAW

CHAPTER VI

VI:  OF SONGS AND SHADOW

The trees were dense, and the giant leaves obscured any sunlight. Yet the jungle glowed somehow, its greenness filling each of his breaths with a vibrant force. There was magic in this place. He knew this.

Billy Brahm also knew that he was dreaming. He was completely aware that he was still on the cot in the living room, covered in wasp stings and dabs of baking soda, and fighting a bad fever. That was his reality.

But this place felt more real than anything the boy had ever experienced in his young life.

He pushed his way through the jungle, damp earth yielding beneath bare feet. Each step sent shivers up his legs like faint shocks of electricity. The feeling grew as he walked, the energy washing over and through him in a ceaseless, tingling tide. 

Billy touched the trees and leaves and glistening vines along his path, and the sensation continued. He passed beneath huge flowers hanging like violet lanterns in a leafy cathedral, their scent making him swoon with a warm, penetrating sweetness.

There was a sound. It seemed to come from all sides, but was strongest just in front of him. It grew as the boy pushed onward, and began emanating from the trees, the plants, the ground, and even the air itself.

Humming.

The hum enveloped Billy’s face. It compelled him forward through the twisting trees and tangled roots, until a curtain of massive leaves blocked his path. He blew on a leaf and it shivered, thin as paper, a veined page in some emerald book that waited to be turned. 

He grasped the edge of one to pull it aside, and felt the hum move into his hand and ripple up his arm. As the leaf yielded to him, a brightness beyond filled his eyes. The hum grew, and spilled into his chest.

Music. 

That was the only way to describe what the boy felt then. The most beautiful music imaginable was being played inside of him, filling him with a feeling he had known so rarely in the waking world. Peace. As he stepped into the brightness tears welled in his eyes, but it wasn’t from pain. Or from fear. Or even from the sadness that he knew so well.

Billy Brahm cried for the breathless wonder that lay before him.

The jungle grotto gleamed from every surface. Every blade of grass, and flower petal, and bare stone, and drop of water shone like a million diamonds spinning in the sun. 

At first, Billy shielded his eyes for fear that he would go blind. But then he listened to the music swelling in his chest. He surrendered to the song being hummed by all things in this sacred place. The boy relaxed then, and he remembered. 

This is a dream, Billy thought. This is my dream.

He stepped onto the cool grass. The grotto was like a valley the size of his school playground, sheltered on all sides by dense jungle and bleached walls of stone. Looking up, the trees and cliffs seemed to stretch forever, as they often do in a dream. The dome of sky was clear and sapphire, with points of light that turned and twinkled within it like daytime constellations. 

He walked along the sloping ground, the grass whispering against his heels and toes. From all sides of the clearing the earth dipped down towards the middle, forming a verdant bowl of grass, wildflowers, and rich brown earth. A sparkling waterfall cascaded down the ivory stone face of the far wall, filling the space with a mist that refracted the light, making tiny rainbows flicker in the air.

The water flowed down the sloped earth and into a pool in the center. The pool was made of interlocking stones in two shades, forming alternating peaks of light and dark on its raised edge and outer facade. This was a distinct structure, and the only thing within the space that seemed crafted by another’s hand. The boy knew that there was something important here – something old, and powerful, and beyond the dream itself.       

Billy stepped towards the pool and knelt down by its edge. The hum hammered in his belly and chest now, and began to climb into his throat. He gripped the stone rim and leaned forward. The hum rose, and the boy felt as if he were about to vomit.

He opened his mouth over the pool’s still water. He tried to breathe, but the vibration within him wrestled with the air and won. It slid from his throat, flattened his tongue, and rattled his teeth as it was born into the air.

RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH.

The boy was helpless as it came, as it pushed its way through him and made the air itself shake. Every cell in his body trembled with the same awesome frequency. Billy felt as if a light was beneath his skin, growing so bright that it would burst him into a thousand shining pieces.

He could see the waves of sound moving through the air, making it warp and shimmer before striking the surface of the pool. The hum hit the water like a stone being dropped from a height and made perfect circles ripple out from the middle, each one colliding with a splash against the pool’s edge. The pool began to brighten, and soon all of the water in the grotto – in the stream, in the mists, and in the great waterfall - was aglow like iron in a fire.

Billy fingers dug into the stone as his chest began to heave. His mouth and eyes were strained wide, and tears gleamed on his cheeks. The hum grew deafening, the light blinding, and the boy feared that what began as a dream could very well be the end of him.

The hum became a scream of angels. The waterfall, brilliant as a bolt of lightning in a summer storm, was cleaved in two. Its shimmering flow parted and something emerged from the darkness behind it, and into the light.

The hum ceased. The grotto dimmed.

Billy gasped, collapsing on the stony rim of the pool. His hands dangled in the water. The few lingering ripples rushed past his fingertips, cool and silent.

The figure in the distance moved forward. As it stepped, smooth stones rose to meet its feet. They pushed the stream aside, giving the illusion that the thing was gliding towards him.

Through the mists, Billy could see that it had the shape of a man, though larger. Much larger. As it neared the boy thought that, once upon him, the thing could conceivably blot out the sky.

Billy lifted himself from the pool’s edge and sat perfectly still, watching it approach. His fear was fading, and with each breath he took it was being replaced by something else entirely.

Awe.

The figure stood at the side of the pool, towering and motionless. It was clad in a robe of radiant scarlet, fringed in golden bands of thread. The threads appeared to move when he looked at them long enough, shifting and twisting and worming across the red fabric. Long, wide sleeves hung low at its sides hiding its hands from view. A wide-peaked hood did the same for its face, obscuring it in shadow.  

Billy watched this mysterious being cloaked in red. He watched as it stood before him in this fantastic place. He watched as the air around it hummed with power. He watched, transfixed by its strangeness, and by its majesty.

Billy watched it for so long, he almost forgot that he was a dreaming. That was when he remembered to blink.

 And that is when it spoke to him.