In the search of the King; Chapter Three

Rebecca found herself floating through limbo. She wasn't really falling or flying or anything. She couldn't tell if she was going up, down, east, or west. Rebecca could feel herself moving through time and space. She just couldn't tell how or where. Rebecca felt weird floating. But there was no pain. In fact the trip felt oddly pleasant.

Either way, Rebecca was in the book and there was little she could do about it. She took a deep breath to shoo the butterflies away. She decided that whatever came next, she would follow the advice of the book. She would peer. She would observe. And when she was ready, she would write the story.

Rebecca didn't know if she would ever see home, again. She could only go forward. Tall white objects appeared in the distance. Rebecca felt herself being pulled towards them. The objects got taller, bigger, and more clear as she approached. The tall objects looked like a pair of gigantic Greek Columns. The column guarded a massive cave. The cave appeared big enough to comfortably hold the entire city of New York, along with London and Paris to keep it company. There seemed to be a smaller object near the ground by the base of the cave. Rebecca couldn't quite identify it, yet. But, she knew that she would in a few moments. She was getting closer to the columns, the cave, and other objects in the nearby area.

The void set Rebecca down a few feet from the mouth of the cave. Rebecca walked up to the cave. She was blocked from going in by some invisible barrier. She couldn't go inside. If Rebecca were to be honest with herself, she was fine not going into the cave, yet. She wanted to explore this place. Was there more or did it have a name? She was both confused and awed by this strange ethereal place.

Rebecca looked up at the columns and the roof of the cave. She felt like there should be clouds, but saw none. She could just barely see the roof of the cave. The columns went on in infinity. As far as she could tell, there was no ending to the tall columns . Rebecca looked from the left to the right. The smaller object that she couldn't identify from afar was close enough for her to touch. Now, she could tell that it was a pedestal with a notebook on it.

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. It was the ordinary notebook that her teacher had given her. The one that she was supposed to do her assignment in. At least she didn't have to beg her teacher for another notebook so she could do her homework. Still, she wished she had more answers. "Void? Are you there?"

"Yes..." Came the smooth reply. This time the voice didn't come from the notebook on the pedestal. The voice was all around.

Rebecca was happy to hear the voice. It meant that she wasn't as alone as she felt. "What should I do?" She asked the void.

"You need to pick a name." The void answered.

"A name?"

"Yes. Pick a name and write on the notebook on the pedestal."

"Oh, right." Rebecca chuckled to herself. She walked up to the notebook on the pedestal. There was a golden pen in a cradle beside the book. Rebecca opened the notebook and took the pen. She saw a line for a name. However, it wasn't for the name of the story. The line was for the author's name. "But, I thought I was naming the story."

Rebecca bit her lip. She wasn't sure what she should put. She wasn't a real author. Should she put her real name or make one up. Some authors used pennames and pseudonyms. Rebecca had a moment of indecision. Finally, she decided to be bold.

Rebecca grasped the pen firmly in her hand. She put it to the line for the author's name. She wrote the name 'Heather' on the line. The notebook on the pedestal shimmered and glowed golden. The pen magically grew a cord and draped itself around Rebecca's neck. The notebook turned into a beam of light and shot itself into the cave. A woosh of wind rushed at Rebecca then died away.

"The way is open to you." The void encouraged. "Go, see, hear. Tell your story."

Emboldened, Rebecca stepped forward into the cave. The invisible barrier from before had gone. She braced herself. One foot in front of the other. She walked, leaving the columns behind. She didn't know what lay ahead, but she was excited to find out.

Inside the cave, it was quiet. There was no chirping of birds. No sound of water dripping from the ceiling. Rebecca looked up. She couldn't even see the ceiling.

The cave wall was a gradient of of ever darkening brown except at the top where it became a pitch of infinite black. The further Rebecca progressed, the darker the cave got, as well.

Rebecca turned her head to see behind. She had been walking for awhile. The entrance had completely faded. Rebecca thought that she saw a pinprick of light ahead. It was hard to tell. Rebecca held her hand in front of her face. She could just make out a dim outline. Rebecca walked on towards the other end of the cave. The only sound was the crunching of her feet on the floor or the cave. The silence was eerie. As she walked on, Rebecca found her mind getting distracted to avoid the fear that kept creeping up every now and again..

Rebecca's mind drifted to her family, her school, her friends, what kind of stuff she wanted to write about when she got older. She didn't know how this writing business was done. Rebecca had seen movies and TV shows filled with all sorts of stories. The stories were funny, sad, scary, or whatever they needed to be.

Rebecca also wondered about how writers come up with the stories that they did. What possessed Lewis Carroll to dream of Cheshire Cats and Queens and then, turn around and write about them? How did CS Lewis imagine Narnia in a wardrobe and then pick the words to describe such a wonderous place and place them on paper? Rebecca didn't even know what she wanted to write about for an assignment at school.

Rebecca marched along in the dark. She wasn't sure she was going in the right direction, anymore. When she did all that looking around in the cave, earlier, she felt like she might've gotten turned around. But she wasn't sure. For all Rebecca knew, she was headed back towards the entrance, again.

Rebecca craned her neck to look behind her. She looked forward, again, and bit her lip. The pinprick of light at the other end of the tunnel was still a ways off. The light seemed to have gotten a little bigger on the walk. Behind there was only darkness. Ahead was the light. Rebecca continued towards the light. Worse comes to worse, she figured, if she does arrive back at the entrance, she could always turn around and start again for the exit. It would just take some extra focus to put one foot in front of the other to make sure that she made it to the exit.

Before Rebecca's eyes, the pinprick of light turned into a dot. The dot grew to the size of a marble. Then, it grew to the size of a dime. Then, a quarter.

Rebecca trotted ahead until the ball of light was the size of a beach ball. Then, she ran. Rebecca ran until the circle of light was the size of a hula-hoop. At that point, Rebecca had to stop. (She was a healthy girl, she just wasn't very athletic.)

Rebecca panted. She stared at the window of light ahead of her. Grey lines had appeared in the light. Other details couldn't be made out. Rebecca rested a few minutes, then she continued on her journey. After awhile, Rebecca came out of the tunnel.

Rebecca found herself in a city. Rebecca could tell that there was a tall white spire far in the distance. Rebecca had seen pictures of that obelisk before. It was the Washington memorial. Rebecca knew that she was in Washington D.C.

At least, Rebecca knew where she was. There was something else odd about the city that caught Rebecca's attention. Everything was all black and white. Like in some kind of old movie.

Rebecca saw a small convenience store, near by. She checked her pockets for money and noticed that her clothing had changed. She wasn't dressed in the usual pajamas that she started with. Rebecca was wearing a dress. The dress was faded, simple, and well worn.

Rebecca hurried over to the store. She caught her reflection in the window. Rebecca's journey through the cave had turned her into an African-American. She gasped. She wasn't that way when she began this adventure.