The Lover's Parable Through A Seven World Journey (6 page)

It had taken a few hours, but Sofia was certain that they were finally within a few blocks from the first critical destination point, as the overhanging rooftops were now coming into view. The lights at the center of the City, brighter and more distinct than those of the rest of Labor, once in her line of sight, would be the landmarks by which she could determine that they were halfway to the red, brick Gate. Mr. Sanders had not spoken to her since their retreat from the apartment, and she was startled to find his face looking down upon her.

Leaning his head back over the seat, he spoke to her in a reassuring voice, “We’re almost there. Just be calm and stay down, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Sofia acknowledged.

Unsure of where exactly they were headed to, or what they would do if they ever made it there, Sofia rolled onto her side, reaching her arm up to John. She felt around until her hand had settled upon his, and closed her eyes.

Among the thousands of transporting vehicles that traveled the streets of Labor, Mr. Sanders felt certain that nobody would be able to follow them. And, even if the Security Forces had been notified, they would be hard pressed to find them within the densely populated City. As long as they could get through the checkpoint, he thought, Sofia and John would be free.

The time was moving by at an abnormally fast rate where minutes felt like seconds, and the hours were like minutes. They seemed to be rapidly approaching the Highway Security Gate, yet they were barely crawling along upon the heavily impacted road. To Mr. Sanders, it only seemed like a short moment ago that they had left the apartment, when in fact, it had been several hours since they departed. The flashing red lights mounted on the automated rails could be seen in the distance. Swipe the hand and look into the scanner. That’s all it would take and they’d be on their way, he thought.

“Please, let these children live,” he mumbled under his breath. “They’re so innocent. Please, help them.”

As the day was wearing on, curiosity got the best of Sofia. Peering over the front seat and out the window, she was able to see the lines of vehicles slowly approaching the Gate. Some were filled with multiple crates with only a single operator, while others were strictly designed as people movers and were full of workers heading towards the Red Plant. All of them were waiting to pass through one of the several stalls that separated the City proper from the Highway. Making her observation as brief as she could, her curiosity was relieved, and she let her body fall back onto the floor

They were now at an uncomfortably rhythmic, stop-and-go pace, as each of the transporters had to come to a complete halt in order to let the drivers scan their vehicles out of the City. The lights of the Gate were beginning to illuminate the interior of their vehicle. They were unnatural and unsatisfying, unlike the Savior’s light. Sofia covered her face, as the rays streaming through the windows seemed like the eyes of the masters of Labor watching over them.

In her mind everything was now a frightful mystery. She had never been outside of the City, had never experienced the drive of the Highway. She had never been so scared. As the vehicle pulled alongside the scanner, Sofia’s hair feathered back from the breeze that followed the opening of Mr. Sanders’ window.

The same eerie, red glow that filled the Forbidden Room was now flooding the interior of the transporter. With a glance towards John, his eyes closed and resting soundly, she wondered if in his dreams the world had suddenly been bathed in the same crimson hue that had settled upon his face.

For a moment there was no movement from the front seat as a mechanical hum from the scanner wafted through the air. The Gate did not immediately grant permission to enter into its world. As it appeared to be taking more time than reasonably necessary, Sofia began to wonder if they were about to be caught. Were they being purposely held back from the Highway? Was the arrival of the Security an immanent event? The anxiety that gripped her was bringing with it that awful, cold sweat, as she felt compelled to lift herself up to see what was restraining them.

Grasping at the vinyl seat, the cool moisture of her palm made it slippery and wet, too difficult to get a firm grip on. Instead, pulling herself up by John’s shirt, she was able to adjust her body to a more plausible position from which to see.

As she was about to peer over Mr. Sanders’ shoulder, there was a sudden change in the illuminated features of the transporter’s interior. From the blood-red tones grew the sickly green coloring. The rumbling motors of the gate began to grind. The security rail was lifting! With the vehicle lunging forward, Sofia fell back to the floor with a mild thump of her head on the side door. The craziness of the day’s events was taking hold. As the fearful anxiety began to morph into an anxiety of wonder, Sofia’s whole view of the world she once thought she knew was now taking on a whole new perspective.

The sensation of the rapidly accelerating speed with which all transporters traveled along the Highway was a novel feeling. A strange tickling in Sofia’s stomach was just one of the events of the moment that was assisting in building up the excitement inside of her. Where they were headed was one of the many pieces of data that she still had not been given. But she figured Mr. Sanders’ plan up to this point had been skillfully executed. He seemed to know what he was doing.

Pondering on the events of the day, it became apparent to Sofia that her life seemed as equally sustained in its entirety as it was in the secluded moment of the here and now. It was as if some unknown Force had masterfully planned it. Was everything happening under such determined conditions that attributing it to coincidence would be out of the question? Could it be that there was nothing happening that was not part of some teleological function, an actual, meaningful end to all of it?

With John sleeping next to her, she placed her hand upon his cheek saying, “Rest, my dear friend. I believe our time is coming.”

Closing her eyes once again, she was able to drift away to that wonderful world of dreams.

The intense beating of Mr. Sanders’ heart was causing his chest to tighten. Clenching his left breast, he struggled to keep his breath. His eyes were fastened to the Highway. It was all too familiar: the multitudes of empty vehicles littering its edges, the deep blackness and contrasting dim canopies of orange haze emitting from the ceiling-mounted lights. He had to keep his mind on these commonly seen objects in order to ease himself of the rising anxiety that was creeping in, as every few minutes he would pass by a Security vehicle driving down one of the lanes of opposing traffic.

Unlike the city, the velocity of the vehicles was of a relatively rapid rate of speed. The feeling of racing along the smooth, black road of the Highway was much more relaxing and free spirited, giving a sense of separation from the cramped quarters of
Labor.

There were many miles between them and the end of the road. Mr. Sanders, cognizant of the necessity for a plan of action in order to get the children into the green hills that existed beyond the Highway’s walls, pondered considerably between several possibilities. There was only going to be one opportunity in the matter. He wanted to choose the option with the best possible chance for success.

It seemed so strange to him that, in their days, he and Helen found it so easy to visit the world outside. Their frequent excursions to their hidden place of solitude and peace were always filled with moments of joy, a joy that, sadly, on every occasion, ended with the disheartening return to the doldrums of their humble abode in the dreary apartment complex.

Why did they not stay in their home in the forest? Why did they always return? These were questions that the old man kicked himself with every day of his life. Perhaps it was the fear of being caught that kept them from permanently fleeing. Or, maybe, it was all part of a universal scheme of which he was not privy to. He did not know the answer to his own questions. But, as their once-in-a-lifetime chance to disappear from Labor was so close, and committing to the change was so difficult, in the end, just as they were about to wipe off the dust of their feet to the City, they were thwarted by a stroke of bad luck.

Discovering that the tunneled, drainage complex, that was so readily accessible to them at the time, had been suddenly sealed off, replaced by a more compact system, too narrow for any human to pass through, was a devastating blow to Helen. They would never return to their little paradise. Gripped by an endless bout of depression for the remaining years of her life, Helen existed in bodily form only. The old man could do nothing for her. He just watched as she withered like an autumn leaf, before being taken to the Haven. There must be a way to get the children out here, he thought. There has to be.

Tilting the rearview mirror downward, Mr. Sanders could just barely make out Sofia’s arm spread across John’s chest. As her hand moved to his head, and her fingers filtered through his hair, an idea came to his mind: the walls of the Highway were relatively thin and fragile at certain areas. If he timed everything just right, he thought, he just might be able to collide the vehicle into it with just enough force to create an opening for them to escape through. He could then commandeer another vehicle while the impact site was in chaos. That would allow him to easily make it back to the apartment for, what he believed to be, his final return home.

With a strong feeling that Helen was watching over him, he began to set the plan into motion. They once had a dream that could not be fulfilled, but he believed that through John and Sofia that dream was about to be realized.

Glancing into the mirror once more, seeing the two children so tranquil, so in love, he understood that his entire life had been destined for this moment. This youthful couple would live in that physical paradise of which no other person of Labor had ever seen or could ever imagine, he thought. And before nightfall, he and Helen would be in their own paradise, together at last.

“The young man’s been sleeping for quite some time. Another hour’s drive will give him the rest he needs to help the two of you with the journey ahead,” he said.