Taboo Descendants and the Multi-Dimensional War

In my recent absence as the regulator of my own emotions, I had unintentionally yet inevitably forgotten the horrible state of my current disposition. In short, my mind resembled a train wreck.

The pain that Iris had shielded me from had returned in full effect and I could not bear its weight.

As soon as I had heard those great wooden doors slam themselves with a boom behind me, I realized just how thoroughly demolished and raw my emotions actually felt. I knew true hopelessness.

Reality set in and warm tears the size of raindrops began to roll rapidly down my face. Like a waterfall of turmoil, the tears fell from my chin and onto my chest. The pain seemed to travel with them. My tattered heart ached tremendously. It felt worn and porous, like an old, moth-eaten rug.

I massaged the area of my chest directly above my heart, in an attempt to subdue the aching simply by touch.

Each and every breath I took became as short and sharp. My head began to spin out of control. I closed my eyes, wishing I could make the painful memories disappear.

“Iris!” I wailed in agony, “Help me! Please!”

I had gone from a perfectly sane neurologist to a total basket case.

I collapsed to the ground like an ancient tree hit by lightning. I would rot here on the forest floor from the inside out, letting tiny creatures devour my useless remains.

Why would Iris leave me like this?

I distinctly smelled something familiar yet unbefitting the current setting. My relentless lamentation had carried on for minutes before my mind finally registered the aroma of dirt and grass. I cleared some of the mucus away from my nose and took a noisy yet deep breath. The earthy scent filled my lungs and coursed through my veins.

The smell reminded me of my mother because, being from rural Alabama, she loved the outdoors and everything in it, like a mythical tree nymph.

I felt around me with my hands open, palms down. I could feel the moist blades tickle the skin in between my fingers as I moved my hands back and forth. The grass was long, thick, and lush. The soil must have been as rich and fertile as it smelled.

I opened my eyes.

My surroundings looked bright but my vision was blurred. I blinked back a few straggling tears and observed how dramatically the room had changed since I had entered it. It did not appear to be a room any longer.

I jerked my head up off the ground in shock. I found myself lying in the middle of a vast, cow pasture.

I sat up and inspected my new surroundings forgetting my grief if only for one moment. The immensely green space in which I sat had been lined with an old wire fence and tall trees. A herd of cattle milled about far in the distance. I watched them graze peacefully.

In between the cows and where I sat, stood a particularly large oak tree. Perfect shade on hot days, its limbs stretched low and wide across the pasture, its canopy tall and thick.

I must be dreaming!

I thought about Iris’s statement regarding an ‘organism specific’ room and thought how much my mother would have this particular scene.

“Why else would we be here?” asked a memorable female voice next to me.

I turned my head slowly in hopes that my ears had been mistaken. They had not. There, next to me, sat my deceased mother, looking rather well.

Her gleaming brown eyes did not look like the empty orbs I had seen staring blankly at the ceiling the night she had been murdered. I peered into to them doubtfully, looking for some sign that would indicate their falsehood. She smiled at me as if she found my shock and distrust amusing.

I scrambled to my feet, my jaw slack. I could have caught a fly, better yet, ten flies.

My mother snickered.

I probably looked like a largemouth bass attempting to escape the lure of a Southern fisherman.

What kind of mental bull is this?

“Watch your mouth!” my mother snapped aloud.

“Excuse me?” I asked, astounded.

“I didn’t stutter! Mind your thoughts!”

You have to be kidding me!

“I kid you not, Dear. I know I raised you better than that.”

“What is this?” I was absolutely beside myself.

“It’s gonna be ugly if you keep on being disrespectful!”

I foolishly ignored her threat. “Tell me. Are you some sort of hoodoo apparition?”

“Are you really refer to your mother as evil right now?”

“Fine. A voodoo apparition, then—”

“That’s enough, Kaya!” Her tone told me that I had crossed the line.

Apparition or not, I did not want to go there with her. She acted like my mother.

I corrected myself. “What I mean is—you’re not supposed to be here.”

My eyes met hers. I just stood there, transfixed. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. My heart beat irratically with disbelief, shock, relief, and fear, no one emotion greater than the other.

This can’t be my mother.

She got up and walked over to me. We stood no more than five feet away from one another.

“Of course I’m your mother. I gave birth to you. I raised you,” she said in a bruised tone.

But my mother is dead. She can’t come back.

She sighed. “I thought you wanted to see me again,” she added softly, ending our dispute.

“Well, um,” I stuttered, “I did, but that’s before I realized that I actually could.” I paused and attempted to convey myself more coherently. “What I mean is—I’m happy to see you, Mom, sort of—I’m just not sure how I’m seeing you and that concerns me.”

“Well, that’s simple,” she responded, cheering up some. “You’re in the Spirit Room.”

I raised one eyebrow higher than the other and gave her an expression of disbelief.

“How did you know that?” I asked.

“Listen, Sweetheart,” she continued in a serious tone, “I don’t really understand it all, but what I do know is that I’m not alive anymore, at least not in the way I used to be.”

“How are you here then?” I asked, puzzled.

She thought about it for a moment before answering. “My soul, or part of it, lives inside of you. I hear what you hear, see what you see, so on and so forth. The rest of it, lives in a place connected to this room.” She opened her arms and indicated the space around us.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Well, after that woman kissed me in our home, which, by the way, was highly inappropriate,” she said in a stern, motherly tone, “I kind of fell asleep.

“When I woke up, I was in another place with lots of other people, but I could see and hear everything you did. It was almost like watching television.

“I felt a tug and I ended up here with you.”

She paused for a moment and looked up at the clear, blue sky. Her eyes were glazed over as if her thoughts too lived in another place entirely.

“Ever since I died, I’ve known things—things I didn’t know before.”

“Like what kind of things?”

Her eyes cut sharply from the sky back to me. The mood swiftly changed from light and spirited to grim and foreboding. I leaned back slightly, fearful of the ominous look in her eyes. A dark shadow seemed to loom beneath them.

“Things the living should not know,” she answered menacingly.

I gawked at her, speechless.

My mother had never been overly theatrical. Her threats never rang hollow. I nodded my head to show her that her warning had been well received. The shadow beneath her eyes faded as quickly as it had appeared.

The image of her scowl would not soon leave my mind. I would think of it every time I considered questioning her about what she had been through since passing away.

She suddenly gave me a stern look. “By the way, your sexual thoughts about that handsome man-friend of yours are not only inappropriate but flat out sinful. He and his sister have taken you in out of the kindness of their hearts. Besides, you hardly know him from Adam.” She meant the Adam from Genesis.

I stood there, mouth agape and silent.

She continued, “I prefer the chocolate one anyway. What’s his name? Jules—sounds like royalty.”

“That is quite disturbing information, Mother,” I replied, glad that she had not elaborated anymore on my thoughts about Rahim. I decided to change the subject. “You must have been afraid when you awoke surrounded by strangers.”

“Not really. There is no fear after death. It was like something from one of those sci-fi movies your father liked to watch. Only I was the ghost. And I couldn’t be afraid of myself, now could I?” She chuckled.

“I guess not.” I shrugged.

“As for the others—they are all family.”

JJ! I had almost forgotten to ask.

“Mamí!” I yelped.

“Yes, Dear. You don’t have to scream. I’m dead not deaf.”

Ha, ha, funny. “Have you seen JJ since you passed away?”

“No, Kaya, I haven’t,” she said calmly.

I let out a ton of hot air as my shoulders sank. What a relief!

“What about Papi?” I asked excitedly.

I imagined how great it would be to see him for the first time. My heartbeat skipped at the prospect. My mother did not seem as enthused.

“No,” she answered sullenly, “Him either. I’ve been looking, though. He’s bound to be around here somewhere.” She paused, looked around anxiously and continued, “I always had this idea that he’d be here waiting for me when I passed over. I guess I was wrong.”

I did not know what to say to comfort her. I knew nothing about the pain and disappointment she felt. She had spent over thirty-five years hoping to be able to see him again. Even after death, his presence seemed to allude her.

“You know what,” she said, changing the subject, “The past several Earth days have been torture. I didn’t know what had happened to Jarrice until you remembered not too long ago. I guess that wallop that woman gave you really—”

“What do you mean ‘Earth days’?” I interrupted.

“There is no time on this side of the veil but you were asleep for at least five days—maybe more.”

“Five days! You’re kidding me?”

“No, though it’s hard to tell from here. Time really has no relevance for the dead.” When she spoke again, she did so in the wisest of tones. “The people you’re with, Jules, Rahim, and Iris, they’re nice folks. I know that they can help you if you let them.”

“Yes ma’am,” I answered respectfully.

“You should get back out there. They’re waiting for you.”

“Will I be able to see you again?” I had enjoyed our time together, however strange and tense.

“Of course, Sweety. I’ll always be with you. When you want to talk, just come in the Spirit Room and I’ll be here.”

“Ok.” I smiled and got to my feet. When I looked around, I realized I did not know how to leave the pasture.

“Just walk towards the big oak,” said my mother. “You’ll find your way from there.” I nodded and walked towards the oak tree as instructed. After I had taken a few steps, I turned my head quickly to tell my mother one more thing, but she had gone.

I love you, Mom, I thought, and though I could not hear her reply, I knew how she would respond.

When I turned my head back around, I saw the ancient doorway that lead back into the technologically advanced submarine. The door opened slowly to allow me to exit.

A teardrop fell from my eye and rolled down my cheek. I caught it with my index finger and wiped it away. In spite of my mother’s reassurance that we would see each other again, I could not help but to feel a little sad. She had died and nothing I could do would change that fact.

The sensation of the tear on my finger prompted me to the realization that I was once again extremely thirsty.

Considering the fact that I had drunk three tall glasses of water at breakfast, this intense level of thirst seemed slightly abnormal. I thought about everything that had happened since those three glasses of water and concluded that shortness of breath, extreme shock, and heavy crying had to be the cause of this renewed need for H2O.

If I could only find my hosts, perhaps they can point me in the direction of the nearest water fountain.

True to my mother’s word, Rahim and Iris waited for me just outside the doorway. Iris wore a smug grin, while Rahim’s expression was rather melancholy and defeated, which baffled me.

Why is my capacity to use a room so unlikely and undesirable?

Granted, the room had been strange. Maybe he found its use to be sacred or private. At least Iris did not seem to mind. She completely ignored Rahim as he stewed in silence.

What does it really matter as long as I did not break anything, right?

“How did it go?” asked Iris, unable to contain her glee. It oozed through her every syllable.

“It was alright,” I said, “Considering the fact that I just spoke to my dead mother.” My mind tried to wrap itself around the whole experience.

“So, it was your mother in there,” she said, in an ‘I-told-you-so’ tone meant solely for her brother, Rahim. “Your father is still living, right?”

“No. He died the day I was born?”

“Really!”

“Yes.”

“And your father wasn’t in the Spirit Room?” she added curiously.

“No. My mother said she couldn’t find him—yet.” I added hopefully.

“Hhhmm—that’s interesting. Usually, in our case anyway, they are always there together.” She stopped herself.

“Do you know why he died?”

“I was told that his heart stopped beating the moment he touched me.”

“Intriguing!”

“My mother always said that he was so overwhelmed with joy that his heart could not take it.”

Iris thought this explanation over carefully, but resolved to change the subject. “Where did you end up anyway?”

“What do you mean?” I had been distracted by all of her odd questions. Her comment about dead parents coming in pairs interested me.

What she meant by “our case” seemed like it applied to an entire group of people. How many of them are there?

“Where did you meet your mother?” Iris clarified.

“In a cow pasture somewhere,” I said, still deep in thought.

I could tell that Iris knew more than she let on and I desperately wanted to know what she knew.

The next question I asked was carefully worded but sounded juvenile all the same, “What just happened in there?”

“Whatever your mother wanted, I suppose. As your aptitude to control her strengthens, so will your ability to regulate the tone of the conversation and the venue.”

That comment did nothing but confuse me further. “But—”

“I suppose you’re wondering how the room works.”

“Well, yes, if you don’t mind me knowing.”

She chuckled. “Relax.”

I took a deep breath and felt my shoulders drop and hands unclench. I had not realized how tense and anxious I had become.

“It may be esoteric, but it’s not top secret.”

Rahim coughed, a feeble attempt at protest.

She continued ignoring him, “You’re our special guest, Kaya, and we intend to be as transparent with you as possible.”

“Thank you,” I said warily. I could not appreciate the seriousness of this gesture at that time.

“It is only right,” she smiled at me reassuringly. “Now, about the Spirit Room,” I leaned towards her a bit, “It’s quite simple. The room works as a portal between the dimension you’re in and the Dimension of the Spirits.”

“So long as you have relations residing there,” Rahim added somewhat reluctantly.

A pregnant silence filled the hallway before I responded.

“Are you two saying there is a kind of soul world or something?” I asked perplexed. “Like heaven?”

“Yes, something like that,” Iris replied. You know how—”

I began to shake my head before she could finish her statement. Whatever she thought I knew, I knew that I did not know a thing about it. Everything felt way out of my league.

“Or maybe you don’t,” she said in a disappointed tone. She paused for a few seconds then continued, “Let me back up a bit. Where we come from, the concept of multiple dimensions is common knowledge. The Dimension of the Spirits is only one of many dimension existing simultaneously in one physical space.”

I cracked a grin. “You’re just pulling my leg.”

“Pulling your leg—? No, I’m being serious right now.” She looked at me blankly for a moment then sighed. She turned to Rahim and said, “Well, you were right about one thing, she doesn’t have a clue.”

Rahim’s expression said, ‘No surprise there.’

“Look—I’m no physicist.” I stated angrily, feeling insulted. “How can I be expected to just get all of this stuff the first time around?”

“Look, Kaya,” said Iris apologetically, “You’re completely right. It’s time for you to see Jules. Rahim will take you to him. Frankly, I don’t have the patience to teach.” She winked at me.

I looked at Rahim. He had yet to say anything in response to her suggestion. Our eyes connected and I could feel my heart begin to prance around inside my chest, though this was definitely not the time or the place for any such feelings. Besides, he had not been as supportive of me as his sister.

“Kaya,” said Rahim softly.

“Yes,” I replied evenly.

He looked somewhat disappointed. “I’ll take you to Jules now.”

I cleared my throat. “Yes, of course,” I responded professionally.

As I turned to follow him, Iris waved goodbye and glided away gracefully.

“You’ll be alright by yourself,” she said over her shoulder. I assumed she was referring to my emotions. “Rahim doesn’t bite.”

I followed him closely, determined not to get lost. After a couple of minutes of walking in silence, I once again became distracted by the floor monitors and their elusive glow.

The monitor below me no longer showed the ocean allegedly surrounding us, but a satellite view of the United States. I recognized Florida immediately.

As I walked, the map slowly zoomed in. Firstly, I could only see the Southeastern United States, then just the Florida, Alabama border. The map scale grew larger until the extent of the monitor was completely occupied by a patch of green land.

This green, rectangular field appeared to be outlined with tree tops. One particularly large one sat in its center. That struck a chord. My hunch became a confirmed fact when I saw small brown and black objects moving slowly in the field.

The cows!

As I walked, the map traveled with me from screen to screen seamlessly. According to the label that appeared in the lower right-hand corner of the image, the field was located in Freemanville, Alabama.

I stopped walking.

My mother had been raised in Freemanville. We visited my grandparents there many times. I remembered playing ‘Cowboys and Indians’ with some of my cousins around Thanksgiving. I always played the part of a Creek princess.

After eating, we would go to an actual powwow with First Nation People dancing, cooking, and celebrating. Seeing them practice their culture, I had been proud that I had not pretended to be a cowboy. The Creeks interested me more.

I looked up from the monitor, smiling to myself. I could not recall how long I had been standing there. I had lost Rahim. I scanned the area in my immediate vicinity, in front of me, to the left, to the right, and behind me. I was alone.

Feeling defeated, I looked down. The picture of the field in Freemanville faded away beneath my feet. A map of the “The Veex Vessel, Qego Mouyo” replaced it.

I realized that the submarine wanted to help find my way.

My location, as well as Rahim’s, displayed as strange symbols on the screen. Luckily for me, labels hovered under each image. The map showed many symbols, but these had no labels.

The symbol representing the spot where I stood looked like a series of solid-colored circles laid one on top of the other. The innermost circle, a dark blue period, was surrounded by a thicker, power blue circle. That circle had a border made up of a thinner, white circle which sat enclosed by the final, and thickest, dark blue circle.

All the circles layered on top of one another to make a single eye.

Rahim’s symbol, though equally as unique, was not completely unfamiliar to me. The Eye of Horus, Egyptian sky god, stared up at me from the dark screen.

A blue arrow appear between the two symbols. Judging by the length of this arrow, he had traveled quite a ways while I had been immobile. If I wanted to catch up to him anytime soon, I had to do it now.

I began to jog in the indicated direction. The map followed me, forever in front of my leading foot.

“Thanks,” I said out loud.

I followed the arrow hurriedly until Rahim’s back became visible once again. The main hallway of the vessel had many turns and secondary pathways along the way. Rahim had just began to turn into one of these side halls when I finally caught up to him.

I tried to keep my panting to a minimum, but the thirst had made my throat so dry.

“We’re here,” said Rahim, slicing through the silence. He did not turn to face me, so his voice echoed off the door in front of him and reverberated throughout the hall.

“Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

He turned and answered. “This is the Meeting Hall where we come here to discuss matters of importance.”

“Who’s we? You, Jules, and Iris?”

“And the other Veex.”

“So, there are more of you?”

“Yes, there are seven of us Veex on Qego Mouyo. Ten inhabitants in total if you count or other guests, and we usually do.” He smiled.

The “other guests” sounded like in-laws. “That’s a pretty big family.”

“We are not all directly, or even closely, related.” His face was briefly contorted with what I understood to be distaste. Rahim sighed. “I have said too much once again.”

He opened the door to the Meeting Hall and ushered me inside.

“Jules is waiting for you. Best to hurry.”

I stepped forward without another word, determined to get answers to my many questions.

Jules waited for me inside the room. He looked nobly splendid as he welcomed me to have a seat. I noticed a large, executive chair behind him and another opposite a small table near him.

The table had with a tall glass of water on it. I quickly took my seat and began to sip the water. My instincts told me to gulp it down, but my manners restrained me from doing so.

Jules cleared his throat. Though the sound startled me, I managed not to spill any of the water on myself. That would have been embarrassing and I felt too thirsty to waste a drop.

I looked up from my cup courteously in order to give him my undivided attention. To my astonishment, seven miniature figures moved around on the table that sat between us. I did not recall seeing them before, but I recognized three of their faces, Rahim, Iris, and Jules.

I opened my mouth to speak, but at that moment, Jules began to tell their tale.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me,” Jules spoke smoothly in his deep voice, “But before you ask them, please, let me tell you the story of our arrival to Earth.”