The Caterpillar King (3 page)

“See?” said Tika.

“Aah!” I said. I hadn’t expected her to be
right next to me.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing. Sorry.”

“You’re really strange,” she said. “But do
you see?”

To be honest, I could hardly make out my
surroundings. But up ahead, off in the distance, there was
just
a hint of light. We crawled towards it, and a moment
later, I could stand. Once we got closer, the light came into
focus, and I realized it was a room. We went inside.

“So,” said Tika. “This is my home. Do you
like it?”

I didn’t want to offend her, but there
wasn’t much to it. In total, it was only about the size of a
bedroom. In one corner, there were the remains of a desk that had
crumbled away. On the other side were two very large piles: one of
batteries and one of basketball nets. There were also three doors
lined up in a row on the wall.

But the most striking thing about the room
was a sculpture in the middle: It was a bronze squirrel, and it
looked like it was being burned to death in a bronze fire. Tika
must’ve caught me staring at it.

“It is very beautiful, isn’t it?” she
said.

“Uhh…sure,” I said.

“Squirrels are our natural predator. They
are always telling lies about us.”

“Really?” I said. “They seem harmless and
cute.”

“No,” she said. “They are crafty. They
hollow out acorns and fill them with crushed…I do not want to say.
It is too much. But you must never trust a squirrel. This is a
reminder of what they deserve.”

After that, Tika took me on a quick tour
around the rest of the house. She shared the space with her family,
and they’d given her the nets as her own personal space. According
to her, they were very cozy to nap in. It didn’t seem like much,
but then again, I’d been sleeping on a dirt floor. Nets didn’t
sound that bad to me.

“You should have seen it long ago,” said
Tika. “It was even much nicer than this. I think you really
would’ve loved it. But…” she trailed off.

‘What?”

“Some aspects of our lives changed when…”
She paused and took a deep breath. “Promise you won’t hate me.”

“What is it?” I said.

“I haven’t been 100% honest with you. I had
an outside motive for bringing you here today.” She paused again.
“Our society is…not always like this. Many years ago, one of us
made a kind of prediction. He spoke of bad things that would happen
to us. And his predictions are coming true.”

“You’re talking about a psychic?” I
said.

“Not exactly,” she said. “We call him the
prophet. He has made one large prediction for our culture. I
brought you here today because I want you to hear this
prophecy.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

She looked at me very seriously. “Because I
think you are a part of it.”

Even though I shouldn’t have, I started
laughing a little bit.

“What?” she said. “What is funny?”

“It’s just kind of hard to believe. I mean,
is my name in it?” I asked. “Not that it would even matter…”

“I have faith,” she said.

She seemed serious, and I figured I might as
well go along with it.

“OK, tell me,” I said.

“What?” she said.

“The prophecy.”

“I cannot,” she said. “That is why you are
here. The prophet repeats himself once every day at sundown. I have
planned a conference for you two today. It is the room on the left.
He will call you in a few minutes. We will wait.”

She nodded to the nets. “You can take a rest
there. But do not fall asleep.”

“That,” I said, “should not be a
problem.”

The moment my head hit the nets, I was fast
asleep. The lights went dark, a dream began to take shape…

“Finch. Hello. HELLO.”

I sat up and looked around. Tika was sitting
on my left shoulder.

“Huh?” I said.

“I was calling and calling,” she said. “It
is time to greet the prophet.”

I stood up, but I felt like I was still
halfway in my dream. There aren’t many things in life worse than an
unfinished nap. It’s enough to ruin your whole day. Even after I
woke up, it took me a minute to get my bearings. Once I did, I
headed to the door. Then I realized Tika wasn’t following
behind.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

“One at a time. It’s the prophet’s
policy.”

That meant I had to face him alone. I
figured I’d be fine. The door looked like it was made of a flimsy
material, almost like cardboard. But when I pushed it, it didn’t
open. I gave it a couple more pushes, but nothing worked.

“You must pull,” said Tika.

“There’s no handle,” I said.

She nodded towards the ground. About two
inches off the floor, there was a tiny doorknob.

“Right,” I said. I bent down and pulled the
knob, and the door opened easily.

I looked back to Tika. “Do not worry. You
will be OK,” she said.

But she didn’t sound too confident at
all.

***

The prophet’s room was half the size of the
last one. Unlike the hall, this room was completely bare. I looked
by my feet, but there wasn’t a caterpillar to be found.

“Up here,” said a voice.

Directly above me, there was a tiny green
and yellow caterpillar stuck to the ceiling. It let go of the
ceiling and floated down. A thin thread connected him to the
ceiling. Inch by inch, he descended, until he reached the
ground.

“Are you the prophet?” I asked him.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“It’s just…you look really young,” I
said.

He sighed. “I
always
get that.
Everybody used to tell me, “You might not like it now, but just
wait till you get older.
Then
you’ll appreciate that smooth
face of yours. But guess what? The joke’s on me, because I never
age! Gahhhhh.”

The prophet paced in circles. He seemed
distraught.

“You could eat more,” I said. “If you got
bigger, then you’d probably seem older.”

“Eat? Eat
what
? Oh…Tika must not’ve
told you yet.” He paused for a second. “Where is she? Bring her
in.”

“She said there was a rule. Only one at a
time.”

“I think we can make an exception now that
we have the chosen one here,” he said.

“
Me?
” I said. “Really?”

“No, probably not.” The prophet laughed.
“Now bring her in.”

I got up and went to the door. This time, I
pushed it. Tika was waiting right outside.

“The prophet wants you, too,” I said.

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t look
too happy. Nevertheless, she followed me inside.

“Tika, welcome,” the prophet said. “Any
second now...”

Tika and I both settled in right in front of
him. He stood up on his hind legs, balancing on his bottom. It made
him seem more authoritative and imposing. I figured this was a sign
that the prophecy was beginning, and I was right. He spoke the
words in slow, steady rhythm:

The fate of us all is determined by
three

The prophet paused for a moment and looked
at us.

“Is that it?” I whispered to Tika.

“I do not-”

Suddenly, the prophet spoke again:

The fate of us all is determined by
three

“Does he just keep repeating it again and
again?” I said. “And what does he mean by ‘three?’ It’s not a
terrible number or anything, but-”

“I think we should wait-” said Tika.

“Ahem,” said the prophet. “May I finish my
prophecy?”

Tika and I both nodded and apologized. I
really hadn’t meant to interrupt him. The prophet took one more
deep breathe, focused all his energy, and spoke:

The fate of us all is determined by
three

A traitor, a savior, and a fool they shall
be

The traitor will die for the life of
another

While the savior returns to the arms of his
mother

But the fool will be the worst of the
lot

He’ll follow the light until he is
caught

His deal in the dark will be our demise

And only after the fall will the true king
rise.

Once the prophet finished, he got down off
his hind legs and returned to normal caterpillar positioning. I had
kind of been expecting the lights to go out, or his voice to get
really deep, but none of that had happened. It was a good prophecy,
don’t get me wrong. The presentation was just a little lacking.

“Well,” said the prophet. “There you have
it.”

“Hmm…” I said.

“What?” he said. “You don’t believe me? Just
because I had a little trouble getting started? I’ve been doing
this longer than-”

“No,” I said. “It’s not that. I was just
trying to figure out what it all meant.”

“Sure you were,” he said. “I think it’s time
for you to leave. A guest, coming into my room and trying to
embarrass me…”

Rather than risk interruption again, I
turned to Tika for guidance. But she didn’t look so great. In fact,
it seemed like she was about to get sick.

“Tika’s not feeling well, so I’ll think
we’ll be going now,” I said.

“Yeah, you will,” he said. He started
mumbling to himself. “
A traitor, a savior, and a fool they shall
be…shouldn’t be that difficult…really shouldn’t be…”

With that, Tika and I left the prophet,
closing the door behind us. We went to the nets, because I thought
Tika looked like she could use a nap. Also, it was a place where we
could have a more private conversation. Tika sat down beside the
nets and shook her head.

“Always bad news when I see the prophet,”
she said.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s…” She paused. “I have never heard the
entire prophecy before. Only pieces. The situation is much worse
than I feared.”

“You’ve been down here for years, and you’ve
never heard all that?! What parts did you know?”

“The prophet must invite guests inside,” she
said.

“Sure, fine. But which parts?”

“Only the savior.
The savior must return
to the arms of his mother.
The king made sure everyone heard
this. It was what we needed to know for our search.”

“Wait…what search?”

Tika didn’t respond. Instead, she just sat
there with a very guilty expression. I replayed the line from the
prophecy again.
The savior will return to the arms of his
mother
. Then something clicked in my mind. “
That’s
why
you were so interested in my one memory. You think that I’m seeing
the arms of my mother? You think I’m the
savior
?”

She looked up at me. “You do not seem like a
traitor,” she said.

“What about the other one?”

“Ummmm…” she said.

“Oh thanks,” I said. “You think I might be
the fool? Didn’t the prophecy call him the “least of the lot?”

“Worst,” said Tika. “The prophecy said
‘worst.’”

I’ll admit it, I wasn’t exactly happy with
her. But she looked sad, and it’s hard to be angry at someone who’s
already unhappy.

“So what am I supposed to do?” How do I find
my mother?”

“You might not be a part of the prophecy in
the end,” she said. “We have had false hopes before.”

“Just tell me what to do,” I said.

“We will need to travel,” she said.
“Above-ground.”

Even though I had no idea
how
we’d
get up there, I prepared to go right away. Before we left, Tika
decided she wanted to check on something in the main room, but she
wouldn’t tell me what. Of course, this only made me more curious.
Eventually, she admitted what she was up to: she wanted to see the
king.

She crawled up to the middle door and rested
her head against the knob. The entire door glowed, but there was no
response from inside. After a moment, Tika crawled backwards. As
she did, she pulled the door back with her, apparently with the
strength of her head. It was a pretty good trick.

Tika went in. I think she wanted to go
alone, but I came too. She wasn’t big enough to stop me, after all.
Inside, the room was large and impressive. But in all the space,
there was nothing that looked like a caterpillar.

“The king is not here,” said Tika. “We
should go now. Above-ground. We may not have much time.”

“Sure,” I said. But I was caught up staring
at the back of the room. There were two giant columns that went
from floor to ceiling. I had no idea what purpose they served. But
I swear, they looked exactly like a pair of long, skinny legs.

5.

Phone ringing in the kitchen. No doubt the
incubation clinic again. The calls have become rather redundant.
Always the same coquettish nurse on the other end, delivering
increasingly dire news:
Should’ve picked up your child a week
ago, Mr. Covington
, she’ll say.
Where do you get off, Mr.
Covington?
In the bathroom, care to join? Could see the blonde
hair and petite frame in my mind’s eye. Lovely when angry, a hint
of pink in each cheek. Now, answer the phone, hoping to catch the
melody of my minx once more. Instead, it’s a bloated, droning
baritone, all the sensuousness of a toad. Informs me that I have
one hour to get my child or he’ll be disposed of. How charming.

Ten minutes later, wife lumbers in. Looks
like a caricature of her younger self. Always been sturdy on top,
but now inflated to monstrous proportions. Bottom half remains
fairly slim, same as ever. The disparity is absurd. Wouldn’t be
surprised to see her topple at any moment.

“Oh Galla,” I say. “Fantastic you’re here.
Another productive day at the office, I presume?”

“You want something,” she says. She does
have a way of getting to the point.

“It’s just… remember our decision? To bring
another life into the world?”

“What’re you on about?”