He was standing now, but still, the tower made everything feel small. Turning to look back at the village, a bit of his
concern washed away. There along the opposite bank, the mother and daughter were joined by many others. Mostly women, but he saw a few of the older men. Their wrinkled brows were heavy over their shaded eyes, and their mouths hung open, expressing the same ache as the women. Only, he knew those men felt it harder.
All eyes were on him.
But really, they knew more than he did. He should have already been informed, but as he searched the small crowd, he didn't see Eliska or Chantale among the faces. There was another, though. A girl like Eliska and Chantale, but she wasn't as experienced as they were.
Studying her expression, she may have been as concerned as the others, but he knew right then that she was the one who took his shirt.
Turning back to the two structures, he started forward. He didn't know how long that tower had been there. Was it long enough to already effect his business?
No one shouted to him from across the river. No warning, so perhaps the tower had only just arrived. Yet, it was so established in its form. Simple, but colossal.
And dull.
Lifeless gray stones, stacked so close together the surface almost looked solid from top to bottom.
Then there was his structure. He couldn't help but grin when he looked upon it. Even if it was being threatened, the possibilities conveyed also hid its true power, and he could only think of how great he wanted it to be. It was his to do with as he willed. Here on this acre of grass was where he would do his true work.
He tried to rest his eyes on any part of its surface, but really, where did the surface begin? The only true solid part of it was an assumed core. There had to be a center, because there was a starting point. A place of birth and a destiny. From there, and with those hoped-for results, ideas took shape.
The branches seen weren't just possibilities. A building had rooms with dimensions. With those already established, the ideas rolled about, literally tumbled in pinwheel fashion. Those that were tied to specific rooms grouped around an axis while their prominence waxed and waned.
Even if his attention was divided among various subjects ever since he arrived, his mind was always entertaining his plans for this building.
He was even given a little space to consider some humor he found in the physical world. It was humorous, because he knew that the physical world was influenced by the spiritual. How many times, whether in school or in a professional field, had someone drawn up a graph of some sort, brainstorming ideas for a project or lesson?
There would be a central bubble. From there, lines would be drawn and smaller bubbles would be put in place. From those, more bubbles would come forth.
Did humanity know where they got those forms from?
Still, his plans were further along than mere transient ideas. That's why the sets of pinwheels huddled together, giving his
eyes, even now, a specific translation of an overall shape. And because there was already so much life, so many decisions already made, underneath all of the movement was the building itself. Just as it was depicted in the physical
world, he saw the main entrance all the way to the left, the solid front wall, the portion of the windows of that third room on the right.
Because it had life, it pulsed.
At the beginning of the heartbeat, all of its physical colors brightened. Before the next beat, they faded but never
disappeared. The rhythm was slow now. It was a new birth, after all.
He hoped there was enough that he could step inside it. Not just be surrounded by chaos, but that he'd be able to rely on the physical dimensions. Not only did he want to get a real sense of what he had, but he wanted to know if any part of this was effected by that tower.
Before he stepped over to the front entrance, he paused and looked down. There, a few feet from the center of the front wall, was a gathering of flowers. There were different types all lying in a pile. He even saw chunks of spices bundled with string.
He let himself smile. This meant that it had at least been safe enough from the beginning for the villagers to come over here. They knew of his plans. Eliska and Chantale would have told them. He bent down and picked up one of the flowers and studied it a moment. He wanted the villagers
behind him to see his gesture. In light of the situation, hopefully this would have encouraged them.
Lowering the flower, he kept it between his fingers as he stepped over to the pulsing entrance to his building. Not having considered this before, he wondered if he would have to time things just right and reach for the knob at the beginning of the beat. Or, was it always there…just resting?
He would find out now.
There was no sound to this pulse. No cliché heartbeat. Just a feeling. Something familiar, and to him only. He noticed it
the closer he was to the cloud of chaos. It made sense, because he had ties to what was presented here in this part of the spirit world.
At the beginning of each beat was a rush of joy. As the colors faded, he was reminded of all the steps he went through to purchase the building, the money he saved, the connections he used, the support from friends, the favors from other business owners, and finally the needs his business would fulfill.
Every beat told him it was good that this business was here.
So why was that tower here, as well?
Somewhere between his memories of a conversation with
a bank clerk and a friend shaking his hand and hugging him at the same time, he thrust his other hand forward and grasped the ghostly door knob. It shaped itself in his palm and fingers. As the colors faded near to almost absent, the
color of his dark skin was constant.
Well. That answered that question.
Twisting the knob, he heard the squeak of metal against metal: another good sign. Pushing the door open, he waited for the whine of the hinges. There was a bit of a delay, but they sounded out their cry. This time, the breaking of the seal was not confined to the empty interior of that first room.
This was the first time the door had been opened on this acre of grass. He was going deeper into his plans. He might even be able to speak with them. That's why the room beyond was without color, because the depths were undefined. All of it waited upon him.
So he stepped inside.