The Garden

It was a quiet night, the stars and moon above cast their illuminating gaze down upon the forested town the gnomes called home. Its founder, Zeek Worm-Foot, strolled carelessly across the stepping stones near the center of town that led to the grotto where he first encountered the voice of the almighty. He remembered the experience fondly. While on his first mushroom fueled expedition he saw the bright a vivid light he believed to be the face of God. And then heard the eerie and bellowing words that still put chills down his spine “Hello young one. What seed has sprouted from my garden today?” He still contemplated the words, unsure of what to make of their meaning.

He slowly meandered into the holy cave noticing trash from other pilgrims littered about carelessly. The site was a popular destination for youngsters who wanted to party and seek their own religious revelation, to his mild surprise a few of the bums were passed out there now. He shook his head, kicking them awake and beckoning them to go home and take their trash with them. Grumpily they complied, even though he was an old man, and a pain in the ass at times no one messed with Zeek in his town.

Once they were gone he set to work preparing for his own time of religious awakening. It had been some time since the divine had graced him with its presence...longer than he’d like’d to have admit. It was disheartening, to see the face and hear the voice of God only for him to suddenly drop all contact once again. He did not know why...if he somehow angered the almighty or was deemed no longer worthy for its attention. It was perhaps his greatest insecurity.

Pushing these thoughts aside he continued on, lighting candles around the cave and burning some incense he had acquired overtime. He rolled out a small carpet, put a cushion on it, and sat down before pulling out a large multi-colored mushroom. It was the first of its kind he had discovered and was unlikely to find another, surely something so magnificent must have a higher purpose.

Carefully he consumed the mushroom and went into a meditation pose. Focusing on his breathing in-and-out, in-and-out, in-and-out, he continued until time began to fade away and when he opened his eyes he was in another world. He found himself alone in a field of golden wheat to the borders of which stood a grand forest, and beyond that the largest mountains he had ever seen. Ahead of him the sun rose over the horizon but appeared twenty times larger and...strangely enough he could look into it without issue. He walked towards it, the enticing warmth of the light encouraging his every step.

Looking up he noticed islands...floating across the sky. There were forests and fields upon them and rivers flowing right off the edge into the ether...but never hitting the ground. As he walked closer to the sun a menagerie of colorful and exotic birds and beasts fled from his approach in every direction. It startled him but looking upon his body he saw why. He was covered in blood, thick and dark, he screamed at the sight and fell to the ground in shock. Just then arms reached out from the soil to grab at him. Their skin was cut and bruised and their nails long and yellow. With a jolt he gathered himself and ran, ran in the direction of the sun, ran to where the warmth called him.

He could feel them clawing away at his ankles, his calves, his thighs, the pain spread across his body. His eyes filled with tears and he continued onward pushing through the anguish as the grains of wheat became faces, friends he had lost, lovers left behind, and the victims of his endless schemes and intrigue. And just when he thought he would collapse, his legs giving way to torment, he tumbled right over the edge of the world and past the sun.

He saw the world above him slowly diminish from his sight, another island in the bright ether that encompassed wherever he was. He did not feel his landing, only waking up again in another place. This time in front of a well-built and strong looking cabin betwixt a stream and some woods. The garden alongside it held flowers he had never seen before and whose colors he could not comprehend, their very image changing with each passing moment.

He edged towards the stepstones that led across the stream to the stoop of the cabin. Looking into the water he noticed that he was a child again, his face flushed and bright and his hair a similar shade of red. Ignoring it he continued to the large oaken door that lay before him. He reached for the handle, having to stand on his toes to finally get a grip and slowly opened it. A roaring fire burned in the fireplace and the sweet smells of cookies and cakes filled his young nostrils. In front of the fire were two tremendous chairs whose true size seemed to elude him.

The large bearded figure sitting in one of them beckoned him forward and bade him sit in the seat next to him. Zeek obeyed and slowly climbed up onto the chair; he was amazed at its softness and how it fit perfectly to his small frame. He looked to the being next to him. However its face...it was so far away that he could not see it, only the long white beard that came down its chest and the large brimmed wicker hat that covered its head.

“So what seed has sprouted from my garden today hmm?” The figure asked in a bemused tone to the child sat beside it.

“M-my n-name is Zeek… Zeek Worm-Foot!” the child answered in an excited tone. The being beside him laughed.

“I know well who you are my young friend...I have been watching you for sometime. I’m sorry I haven't spoke to you in so long… But it seems the time has come for us to speak again. Would you like some tea?” The being asked. Zeek was amazed by how comforting its voice was, it was familiar yet distant…

“Yes please!” The young zeek responded. He watched as the being lifted itself up from the seat and went to the kitchen to fetch a cup and saucer that it filled with the most amazing hue of gold. When it returned and handed the cup to Zeek he managed to make out the eyes of the being...It looked tired, but its pupils reminded him of the night sky, dotted with what seemed to stars and constellations the likes of which he had never seen before. He took a large sip of his tea as the being began to speak.

“Gardening is a fickle business. You need to constantly tend to your plants if you wish to truly see them grow strong and proud. Even if you take your eyes off of them for a second weeds and beetles come and kill the flowers and fruits of your labor, a tragic thing. What do you think Zeek?” It asked.

“Papa says that even though the weeds and bugs’ll eat our crops they’re just trying to survive too...The food we try to grow for ourselves is food for them as well, and we should at least understand their own struggle, even if we do remove them.” He said pondering the notion of letting weeds and pests live himself.

The starry-eyed being laughed in response. “Your papa sounds like a wise little gnome indeed! A true philosophe after my own design”. It continued to chuckle before settling down and taking on a much more serious tone. “Like a garden young Zeek people sometimes need guidance in order to grow firm and strong, vices must be fought against and self-control must be learned if you are to prosper and develop. I have been watching you for a long time ‘Elder Zeek’ and what I see before me is concerning.”

A puzzled expression crossed Zeek’s face, looking down he noticed that he was restored to his true old and wrinkled self. “B-but I’ve only ever done what I thought would bring me back to you! To bring others towards you! I wanted to see you again m-my lord!” he began to babble and stutter before the being rose and began to stoke the fire before the two of them.

“It is not you who decides when we meet my sorry fellow. The mushrooms and substances you consume are my own creation yes and through them I see you a little clearer amongst all the stars in the cosmos, but I am the one in control…” Just then the fire extinguished and darkness engulfed the cabin and when light returned Zeek found himself in the outstretched palm of the Gardener he had sought out for so long.

Above both of them storms raged endlessly and the eyes of the Gardener shone magnificently in the darkness. “HEAR ME ZEEK WORM-FOOT” It bellowed. “I SEE YOU FOR WHO YOU ARE, A LOST LITTLE GNOME WHO WANTS PEACE BUT PREPARES FOR WAR.” With each word lightning struck around Zeek from every direction, but the sound of thunder was deafened by the titan’s voice. “GATHER YOURSELF MY YOUNG WARD, FOR I OFFER YOU GUIDANCE BUT YOU MUST DO AS I COMMAND.” The Gardener’s face grew close to Zeek and he could make out its true features...It was that of his very own father, apparently the voice had not given it away. “TEND TO YOUR GARDEN...BEGONE!” And just like that Zeek was once again falling into the ether, into a darkness whose depths he could not comprehend.

Zeek shot up from the floor of the cave drenched in sweat and cotton mouthed. The candles had gone out and he saw daylight shine in from the mouth of his sanctuary. He remembered… everything. The islands in the ether, the hands and faces in the wheat fields, the Gardener’s Cabin… and the words he was told while he was there. He wiped the sweat from his face and drank from the grotto’s waters before heading out beyond the waterfall.

He slowly walked to the center of town with posture proud and spirit strong. “EVERYONE!” He shouted, waiting to gather the attention from his townsmen. “GATHER ROUND, GATHER ROUND, HERE THE WORDS OF YOUR FRIEND AND NEIGHBOR ZEEK.” He paused again as a small confused crowd began to form around his small stage of boxes and crates he stood upon. “I RETURN FROM AN EXPERIENCE WITH THE DIVINE...AND I HAVE MANY LESSONS TO SHARE WITH YOU...CHILDREN OF THE GARDENER!”