PAPYRUS FOR ARISTOTLE
Two handfuls of burnt locusts were all he had for the morning. He has had the last bunch of the insects. He had to find Aristotle who they say lives in the midst of the green garden. A hundred and twenty days has passed and he hasn’t reached the green garden. He thought it was worth. He knew it was worth it. As far as it was for Rose, it should be worth it.
He hung his leather bag on his shoulders and continued his journey. He could feel the weight of the papyrus. The papyrus is his way home and Aristotle, they say, is the gatekeeper. After the war on Normandy hills, where he fought the beast unicorns alongside the army of Greece, he had lost his way when fleeing from Sheba, the queen of the Unicorns. They had fought to recover the papyrus from her sinister hands. She fought back by commandeering a whirlpool which swallowed everyone save him. Still he wasn’t totally free. He was cursed to wander the deserts of Dreiden forever. However, he picked from his little encounters with fellow lost men that only him who had the Papyrus could find his way with the help of Aristotle. Of course, they were not aware he had the book. They would have killed him if knew. He thought about Rose and how long he had been away from home. A day in Dreiden is two years outside Dreiden.
The moon had already set when he arrived at the green Garden. His knees were weak and his ankles hurt but they were all infused with hope when he saw Aristotle’s hut standing aloof amidst some golden shrubs. He quickened his steps and made haste to the door. He knocked but heard no response. However, the door opened on a second knock to reveal the house. Its floor was made of chiseled green gems and its walls were intricately decorated with complex brickwork patterns. He saw the tumblers and pot on the wooden table; they were shining glazed ceramics.
“What do you need?” He heard a voice from the dark behind the brass arch.
“I am…I am…” He stuttered.
“I know who you are. I ask what you need.” the voice replied.
“I need you….to help me find my….way….back to my wife.” He responded in fear.
Still jittery, he saw Aristotle walked out the dark. He was clad in a white woolen tunic.
“Are you lost?” Aristotle asked.
“Yes I am lost.” He said.
“How do you know you are lost?” Aristotle asked again.
“I couldn’t find my way back home.” He said.
“You think you are lost because you couldn’t find your way back home or you are lost because your home is no longer where it used to be.” Aristotle inquired.
“I don’t know.” He was confused. “But I brought the papyrus to help me with the journey.” He said.
“You are in a dream. And all you need is Hope to wake. Hope is a waking dream. Are you in love?” Aristotle said.
“Yes I am.”
“Hmmmm. Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies. Show me papyrus.” He gave Aristotle the papyrus who grinned when he saw it.
“What do you think it does? The papyrus?”
“I don’t know. Gives power maybe?”
“Yes. It gives power. And direction to what you need most.” Aristotle said as he returned the papyrus.
With a surprised face, he collected the papyrus and looked at it. It was a map. A way back home.