Cautionary Tales (6 page)

I brought the book into the full light, and the picture vanished. The page was a random mess again. But now I had the key, and I took it back to the half-light until I could see Jesus, then slowly into the full light. I analyzed it, and soon I was able to see Jesus in any light. But he faded out when I turned the picture upside down. So I kept working on it, training my eye, until I could see him from any angle and in any light. I had fathomed the unfathomable!

Next day I looked at it again, and Jesus looked back at me. I was now a believer, in this sense. I could see what I had not seen before. I was flushed with victory.

I went out to do some shopping. When I looked at the sidewalk, I saw pictures on it: animals, flowers, human faces. They had been there all the time, but now I could see them. I had widened my horizons, by learning to see Jesus.

When I crossed the road I saw in its pattern of cracks and smudges a different scene. In fact I became aware of a different landscape, a natural one, where no road existed. The effect grew stronger as I concentrated, becoming three dimensional. It was as if the road were a picture, which I might almost walk into. But I couldn't; the true surface of the road seemed like a pane of glass, disappearing, but my feet still found it. This did not detract from the realism of the picture; a person may gaze through a window at the scene outside, yet his hand can not pass through that window. He understands that the scene is there, but that he is barred from it, unless he breaks the glass or finds some way around it. I was fascinated. In fact I forgot my errand, and simply meandered, viewing the new realm. So much I had never seen before!

Then I came to an awesome chasm that crossed the road and the terrain on either side. It was so deep I was afraid to try to cross it, though I knew it was just a picture. I stood at the brink, gazing down into its murky depths.

Someone came up behind me. I was so distracted that I never noticed until there came a touch on my elbow. “Don't do that,” she whispered. “Ignore it. Walk right on across.”

Startled, I followed her guidance, and walked with her across the chasm. I looked at her, trying to determine whether I knew her, but she seemed unfamiliar. “Why—?” I asked, somewhat at a loss.

“For God's sake, act normal!” she snapped. “Have you no common caution?”

“But I don't think we've ever met before,” I protested. “I'm Ulysses. You're—?”

“Chloris,” she said tersely. She forged straight ahead, ignoring the frightening landscape I suspected she saw.

“Well, Chloris, why are you, well, picking me up like this?” She wasn't beautiful, but neither was she ugly; she had the appeal of youth, which to my middle-aged eye was considerable.

“Because I don't want the dragon to eat you before you catch on.”

“Dragon!” I exclaimed, laughing.

“Just keep walking, and I'll explain,” she said grimly.

Realizing that she wasn't joking, I did as she asked. I kept walking beside her, which was no chore. “I suppose you know that I'm seeing strange scenery.”

“That's obvious.” Chloris glanced around, but she did it without moving her head. “What brought you to the breakthrough?”

“A picture of Jesus.”

She sighed. “I wish they'd abolish those pictures! People think they're getting a religious experience, and then the dragon kills them.”

“You act as if there really is a dragon!”

“Listen, idiot!” she hissed. “There
is
a dragon, and it will be the last creature you see if you don't ignore it.”

“I don't understand! Am I supposed to see this thing, or not see it?”

“Both. You are seeing the larger reality, which has always existed, but few people manage to attune their minds to it. They are so accustomed to shutting out things that they actually shut out much of reality itself. That's their salvation. But those who succeed in seeing more are in trouble. So if you see a dragon, pretend you don't. Just walk right by it, or even through it, and don't flinch. Your life depends on it.”

“My life!” I said, amazed at her claim.

“Your life.” Chloris looked around again, only her eyes moving. “And mine too, if the dragon catches on that I see. I'm risking myself by helping you. Don't make me regret it.”

I still liked the idea of walking with a young woman, so I decided to play the game. “I'll ignore any dragons,” I agreed.

“You had better. They have been around since the days of the dinosaurs—in fact I think they
are
the dinosaurs, in a more advanced state. Just as we are primates in an advanced state. The dragons are as smart as we are, and much more deadly, and we can't escape them because our limited world isn't real to them. We have been spreading across their habitat, building cities in their hunting grounds, but they don't care because as long as we are unaware of them, we are harmless to them. But they know that we could cause them mischief, if we saw them. So they kill those of us who see them. Unless we fool them into thinking that we remain oblivious. So that is what we have to do. Always. Or else.”

“Are you saying that these pictures I'm seeing—that there are dragons in them? But since I can't go into those pictures, nothing in them can hurt me. So why should I worry about dragons?”

“Because they aren't limited the way we are. They can see us and hear us all the time, though they don't seem to have bothered to learn to understand our language. If they decide to, they can chomp us, and when they do, we feel it. It's one-sided: we can't hurt them, but they can hurt us. They've been aware of full reality longer than we have, ever since about sixty five million years ago when they moved into it, and they have learned ways to handle it that we haven't. Maybe some year we'll learn too—but only if they don't realize that we're doing it. That's why we have to be excruciatingly careful. That's really why I'm helping you: because if I let you blunder and attract their attention to yourself, they will kill you, and perhaps realize that more of us are seeing them. Then they will be more careful, and more of us will die. So we have to educate you quickly.”

“So it's not that you care about me as a person,” I said dryly. “You just don't want me to mess it up for the rest of you.”

“Exactly.” Her emphatic agreement set me back. I had thought I was speaking at least halfway humorously. Evidently not.

“So if I don't see a dragon, I can do what I want,” I suggested.

“No,” Chloris said. “You never know when a dragon is watching. So you tune out the larger world as well as you can. After a while it becomes second nature. When you get so that others who can see don't realize that you are one of us, then you're safe. As safe as it gets, for us; we can never rest as easy as we did in ignorance.”

I would have thought she was crazy, but I did see what she called the larger world, and she knew I saw it. So if she was crazy, so was I. “Where are we going?” I inquired.

“That's right,” she agreed. “We can't just walk aimlessly. We've already gone too far together to be strangers. We'll have to be dating.”

“I'd love it,” I said gallantly. “But aren't I a little old for you?”

“Not for real,” Chloris said impatiently. “Just until we can separate without arousing suspicion. You'll have to see me to my apartment, I suppose.”

Who was I to object? So I took her hand, and we walked on like a middle aged fool with a young thing, which was as accurate a description as any.

Then I saw something. It was walking through an intersection. Maybe through a building too; our world seemed to be insubstantial to it. It looked like a monstrous dinosaur—or a dragon. I turned my head to get a better look at it.

“Don't do that!” Chloris whispered. “Ignore it!”

It really was a dragon--and she saw it too.

The dragon turned its head, and caught me staring at it. Its ears perked up.

“Oh, the fat's in the fire now!” Chloris whispered. “Our only hope is to fake the dragon out. Play along—and don't look at the dragon!” She hauled on my arm until I turned to her, then put her arms around me.

All right. I was shaken by the sight of the dragon, but I could hardly think of a nicer way to reassure it that my attention was elsewhere. I embraced her. Her body was slender and supple, and though her face was not glamorous, it was young, and that counted for a lot. I wouldn't have minded at all if this had been real.

Chloris' eyes flicked in that headless way they had. I realized that this was so the dragon couldn't tell that she was looking around. She was making more sense to me, now that I had seen the monster. “It's coming to investigate,” she whispered. “We'll have to make it look authentic. Make your hands stray.”

“Stray?” I had to be misunderstanding.

“Do it!” she snapped.

So I let my right hand slide down to stroke her posterior. What illicit fun!

Then I saw the dragon, much closer, coming up behind her. My hand clenched involuntarily, giving her a healthy pinch. Oops.

“Damn,” she murmured. “We'll have to kiss.”

So we kissed, but it wasn't nearly as much fun as it should have been, because now the dragon was right up close, and I could hear the bellows of its breathing. The thing was huge and hot, and its scales rustled slightly as it twisted around. I kept my eyes squinted shut, now, but I felt the dragon's breath on my neck. At any other time such a kiss would have held the whole of my attention, but it was singularly difficult to tune out such a monster.

However, we couldn't kiss forever. I was running short of breath. So I drew back. “Let's go to your place, dear,” I said, opening my eyes.

That's when my gaze met that of the dragon. It was only a yard away. I flinched.

The funny thing was that other people had collected, now, but they weren't looking at the dragon. They were looking at us. They really couldn't see the monster. They were limited in their perception to the smaller world. They hadn't seen the picture of Jesus—or what it led to.

“I can't wait that long,” Chloris gasped. She seemed genuinely desperate, but not because of any passion for me. “There must be a private spot close by.”

She was trying to make it seem authentic. I knew her desperation was because of the dragon, but it was having its effect on me too. How far would she go, to fool the monster?

I started to unbutton her blouse. The other people watched, enjoying the spectacle of a couple about to make love in public. The average man is not only blind to the larger world, he has the sensitivity of a clod of manure.

Then the dragon goosed me. Its tail came around and rammed me in the rear. I jumped.

Immediately Chloris reached around and grabbed my rear, as if she were the cause of my reaction. She was trying valiantly, but the dragon wasn't fooled. It opened its mouth. I couldn't help staring at the very large array of teeth.

I realized that this was fight or flight time. There was no hope of fighting the dragon. “Run!” I cried. I turned Chloris loose and started to move.

“No!” she protested. She still thought she could pretend ignorance of the monster. She stood still.

I hesitated, turning back. I didn't want to leave her. I hardly knew her, but she had done her best to help me. Yet what could I do? The dragon's head was bigger than Chloris' whole body.

Nevertheless, I cast about for some weapon. There was only a plank lying in the gutter, perhaps fallen from a truck. Stymied, I stared stupidly as the dragon's head struck at Chloris. It seemed to occur in slow motion, but that was because of my horror.

At the last moment the dragon closed its mouth, and shoved Chloris with its nose. She stumbled back, propelled by that nose—and fell into the path of a passing car.

There was the squeal of brakes, but it was too late. The car had struck her before the driver could react. It slewed to a stop, but Chloris was just a heap in the road.

“She jumped right in front of me!” the driver cried, wild-eyed.

“No!” I cried. “The dragon did it! The dragon shoved her!” Beyond caution, I heaved up the plank and ran at the dragon, clumsily trying to spear it with my improvised lance. “Die, dragon!” I screamed.

I scored on it--but the plank passed right through the monster's body, and I did too. I couldn't touch the monster, literally.

Then there were hands on me, holding me back. I was still shouting. “The dragon! The dragon! Can't you see it? The dragon killed her!”

They wrestled me to the pavement and strung rope around me. The dragon merely watched. Suddenly I realized why: it didn't need to kill me, because I was obviously crazy. The other people thought I was the one who had shoved Chloris into the car and killed her. A lover's quarrel. They would never comprehend the truth.

“And so I was found innocent by reason of insanity,” Ulysses concluded. “I didn't try to fight it. I knew the dragon would have killed me too, otherwise. But the dragons leave me alone, as long as I'm incarcerated here. So I drew a picture of Jesus on the wall, using smudges in lieu of paint, and I stare at it, the reminder of my folly.”

“But if—if you believe this is true—the world should know,” Ethan said. He now understood why Ulysses was confined, and it wasn't because of any invisible dragons, but he still wasn't quite satisfied. The man could have a better life, right here in the hospital, if he just talked to others instead of staring at the wall.

“If I try to tell the world, one of two things will happen,” Ulysses said. “Either I won't be believed, in which case I have accomplished nothing but my own discredit, or I will be believed, in which case the dragons will strike ruthlessly to eliminate all believers. I saw what they did to Chloris, and the guilt of that will forever be on my conscience. She tried only to help me, and she paid with her life. I don't want any more deaths to mourn.”