The Student

THE STUDENT

There once was a student who attended the local school. He was a tired student—his teachers demanded much, but he enjoyed learning: (He had all A’s to prove it). His coaches ran him hard—but he enjoyed exercising his body: (He had muscles and veins to prove it). His friends invited him many places—he enjoyed their company: (He had 1000 contacts in his phone, someone for every occasion to prove it). But. He was tired. Day in, day out, his desires depleted him, his treasures tuckered him out, his loves left him lethargic.

One weekend he went to his local coffee shop to study. While drinking coffee in the corner he nodded off; when he awoke—behold—an older gentleman with a scar wrapped across his neck and a light glinting in his eyes sat facing him. 

“You tired?” He queried.

“Yessir, moreso than I thought.” 

“I have cure for tiredness.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Treasure.”

The gentleman reached deep into his jacquard coat pocket and pulled out a golden key with pearl inlays. He handed it to the student and said, “You will find it at the foot of the mountain,” pointing with his decrepit finger toward the local range.

“We better get going boy-o. Time moves faster than we think.” The two pack their things and make their way to the mountain. 

“This doesn’t make much sense,” Student thought to himself. As if reading his mind the older man said, “It’s a long, treacherous way to the mountain. Why are you going?”

“You said there’s treasure there. And rest”

“Ahhhh. Yeah. That’s right. We must hurry, time moves faster than we think.”

THE GARDEN

Not far into the trek they arrive at the local city garden. Statues, gazebos, and flowers litter the space with their beauty, shade, and empathetic eyes. Sitting alone on a bench is a man. He looks up, sees the two walking, jumps and shouts, “Student! Is that you?!”

“It is!” shouted the student. “How are you teacher?”

Approaching rather quickly the teacher responds, “I would be better if you turned in your assignment at class yesterday. Hurry, if you go get it now, I will grade it with all the others. You need this grade if you’re going to stay top of your class.”

“Oh! I completely forgot about that. Yes! Yes! Yes! I’ll go grab it.”

Turning to the gentleman he said, “I must go fetch my paper. It won’t be long.”

“Will it cure your tiredness?” Asked the gentleman.

“Perhaps it will. Getting good grades calms me. Plus, I want to be wise.” Turning from them, the student ran home to get his paper.

Looking to the gentleman, the teacher commented, “This student will bear much fruit. He will be smart in every way and in all knowledge.”

After some minutes the student returned, paper in hand and delivered it to the teacher. “Here—it—is—“ he managed between his gasps for air. 

“Good good” said the teacher. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you. As the smartest student in the class, I wanted to give you this key.” He reached into his pocket and handed off a hollow key.

“Thank you sir! The gentleman and I must be going.” As they left the garden the gentleman asked “Are you tired?”

“Well…yes. But I really needed to turn that paper in. It was worth it.”

“I have a cure for tiredness.”

“Yes, treasure, you said.”

THE RIVER

Beyond the garden some ways, on the outskirts of town, spans a bridge crossing the mighty river—the body of water that separates the town from the wilderness. As they drew closer, there appeared a man sitting at the entrance of the bridge. Looking up he sees the two walking, jumps up and shouts “Student! Is that you?!”

“It Is!” Shouted the student. “How are you Coach?”

Approaching rather quickly the coach responds, “I would be better if you hadn’t missed practice the other day. In fact, you will be off the team unless you swim across the river in so many minutes.”

“I didn’t mean to miss Coach. I had work one day and the next my parents needed me to stay home and watch my younger sibling.”

“If you’ll go right now, you can stay on the team.”

Turning to the gentleman he said, “I must go swim this distance. Meet me on the other side. It won’t be long.”

“Will it cure your tiredness?” Asked the gentleman.

“Perhaps it will. Being in peak condition makes me confident. Plus, I want to be strong.”

Turning from them, the student ran to the bank of the river and jumped in. The gentleman and Coach began walking across the river, watching the student as he swam. “This student bears much strength. He is far faster and stronger than his peers. Oh what discipline he has!”

After some minutes the student crossed, drenched to the bone. “How—was—my—time—“ he managed between his gasps for air.

“Good good” said the coach. “So excellent that I want to give this to you. As the best athlete in the school I wanted to give you this key.” He reached into his pocket and handed off a hollow key.

“Thank you Coach! The gentleman and I must be going.” As they left the bridge the gentleman asked “Are you tired?”

“Certainly. But I’ve been working so hard, I’d hate to let the team down. It was worth it.”

“I have a cure for tiredness,” responded the gentleman.

The student felt in his pocket and pressed the original key between his fingers. “Yes, treasure, you said.”

THE DESERT

Many miles into the desert the two walked, the height and grandeur of the mountain ever inching toward them. In the distance the rumble of motors crescendoed into their attention. Flying around the sand dunes was a group of teenagers in dune buggies. Pulling up next to them, one buggie stopped and cut the engine. It was a group of the Student’s friends. 

“Friend!” Student exclaimed. “How are you!?”

“We would be even better if you’d join us! We tried getting a hold of you, but your phone was dead.”
“Yeah, I got it wet not too long ago.”

“Come with us! We are almost out of gas, so we won’t be too long.” One of the riders got out to let the student in.

Turning to the gentleman he said, “I must go with my friends for a moment. It won’t be long.”

“Will it cure your tiredness?” Asked the gentleman.

“Perhaps it will. Being with my friends makes me happy, and happiness is as good as rest, is it not?!”

Turning from him, the student jumped into a vehicle and they took off, weaving in and out among the sand. Standing and watching, the friend turned to the gentleman and said, “when he’s not at school or practice, he’s always with us! Some of them are hard to get along with” she said, “but Student is patient with everyone.”

After some minutes the student returned, covered in sand.  “That was awesome!” Exclaimed Student.

“Good good” said the friends. “That reminds us, for being our friend we wanted to give this to you.” She reached into her pocket and handed off a hollow key.

“Thank you Friend! The gentleman and I must be going.” As they left the friends the gentleman asked “Are you tired?”

“Quite tired! I had to hold on the whole time and we had to shout the whole time to talk with each other. It was worth it.”

“I have a cure for tiredness,” responded the gentleman.

Dropping the fourth key into his pocket he responded, “Yes, treasure, you said.” 

THE MOUNTAIN

Toward dusk the two arrived at the foot of the mountain. There, right before the ascent, sat a mansion, forever resting in the shadow of the peak.

“Is this the treasure!?” Asked the student.

“No, this is a mansion.”

“Where, then, is the treasure?”

“Beneath the skin of this mountain lays minerals and metals of great worth—gold, sapphire, rubies; oil rests underneath, and on the far side are lands and views beyond belief; and you may dwell there.

And both Student and Gentleman stood in silence before mansion and mountain; student studying the profile of the mountain then the pillars of the mansion. Breaking the quiet the gentleman said, “Your friends can give you the mansion. My key get’s you the mountain.”

________________________________________________

“Sir. I see the beauty of the mansion, its windows carved into the facade and ornamented with the finest expression of art nouveau; its columns fully crafted to appear both heavy and light; its cornice outlining the very figure of prominence. Of what worth is this mansion?” 

“In this life it is worth the most, nothing compares to its value. And look, you already have the keys required to enter.”

“I presume that these keys will open the door. But Gentleman, I do not understand how the key you gave me unlocks the mountain.”

“The key is not for the mountain. You have, but, to please the mountain.”

“So, what’s the key for, then?”

“Why, you hand that to the executioner.”

Student’s stomach dropped in both disgust and terror. Gentleman pointed up the mountain, averting their gaze to one of the peaks, targeting out a manmade structure. “What is it?!” cried Student, looking at its slender posts and glinting hat.

“Why, it’s a guillotine.”

“A guillotine?! What do you expect me to do?”

With fullness of peace, the gentleman made eye contact with Student; his eyes glowing brighter than before. Neither smile, nor frown touched his face and no tone of urgency escaped his lips. “To gain the mountain, you must lose your head. To gain the mansion, you simply must enter.”

Student knew he should revolt at the proposal, but something in the mans voice prompted his heart to allow some trust at his words. The light in his eye wiped away layers of distrust. But convinced, he was not. “Can I see this mansion?” He asked with weariness and distress in his voice.

“Of course. Let us approach its ancient doors.” The two proceeded up the steps and at the seam of the door sat three bolts, the darkness of their mouths crying to be fed. Student pulled the three hollow keys out of his pocket and began matching them up. The first key he inserted, twisted, and it clicked unlocked. The second key he inserted, twisted, and it clicked unlocked. The third key he inserted, twisted, and it clicked unlocked. Reaching for the handle, Gentleman grabbed Student’s hand and looked him in the eyes,

“You can look in the mansion, but dare not go in if you have reserves. For once you enter the mansion, there is no mountain to gain. Do you understand, Student?”

“Yes sir.” Gentleman let go, and student twisted the handle to. Pushing the door open, it was as if the house breathed in—a gust of wind rushed into the darkened void newly unlatched, almost as if he was being pulled in. “It is dark in here” escaped the words from broken lips.

Gentleman replied, “It is very dark indeed. Good for sleeping. If only sleeping were the cure for tiredness.”

With those words the void of deepest dark harmonized with the voice of earthen man and Student’s tiredness was stripped of its lethargic mask; he saw his tiredness turn into wide-eyed restlessness.

“Well surely it has lights. And i’m sure inviting friends over would lighten the place up too.”

“Indeed, it does and it would. You can bring whomever you’d like to the mansion, but I don’t think they’d bring the light you’re looking for.” 

Seared in the darkness at the back of the mansion levitates an aperture of light—a window forever open to and framing the image of the guillotine. Student’s stomach dropped. “I see death.”

“Yes. Indeed. As beautiful as the mansion is, it will always rest, marred in the shadow of the valley of death. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, death will always come for he who lives in the mansion. But. Time moves faster than we think.

“Do I have time to make a decision”

“I know not what decision time makes for you, but I would make the decision now.”

“Let me gaze upon the mountain one more time and I will decide.” The two stepped off the porch and moved back into view of the mountain. The light shining from behind the mountain cut Student in his core, cut him in two, cut him in a way like never before, cut him in a way where he would never be put back together. Looking then at the foot of the mountain, Student saw a man. A man? He was taller than the gentleman. 

“Student! Is that you?” Called the figure, his voice like rushing water. Student stood frozen in the way that finiteness stands before the infinite.

“It is! How are you, Executioner?” called out the gentleman. The man walked from the foot of the mountain, up to the pair, and looked at Student. “His neck. He has the same scar, but his is still bloody. And his eyes! His eyes,” student thought, “they’re like the Gentleman’s…only brighter. Like a pair of suns.” Somehow, someway, all reserve melted from Student’s heart.

“Shall we ascend?” Asked the man.

THE ASCENT

“Yes” student said weakly. The man turned and began walking, never looking back, his growing distance beckoning student to follow. Student moved up the mountain, following every footstep, his gaze set upon the man. When he realized Gentleman was not with them, though, he turned to look down the mountain, and there he saw not Gentleman, he saw not mansion, he saw not one thing, for all had been swallowed up in darkness. 

Looking back ahead, the pair suddenly appeared at the foot of the weapon. “You can go back down, or you can hand me the key.”

Student rummaged through his pocket, his heart pounding like it was about to bust out his throat. Quivering, he handed over the key of gold and pearl; the promise of treasure now resting in the hands of another. The man took the key and inserted it into the guillotine, twisted, and unlocked the mechanisms. “You must lay day down and place your neck on the block.”

“How does this treasure give me rest if I lose my head?!” exclaimed student. 

“You must lay down and place your neck on the block.” Again, something about the tone of this man’s voice melted Student’s fears. Or maybe it was the blood rolling down his neck that spoke like rainclouds to the drought.

With a final gasp of air, Student fell to the ground and placed his neck under the floating blade, and not but seconds later, a click, a woosh, and quiet.

THE OTHER SIDE

Blinking, white filled the eyes of Student. His focus cleared as he tried looking up. He was being carried by the Executioner, he could see the man’s face. Looking down at his chest he could see he was covered in blood. Then suddenly all Student could feel was fire at his neck, the sting of the blade reverberated through his body in a pain that had never been felt by mortal skin. 

The man placed Student on the ground, positioning his gaping neck back in order, tilting the head toward the chest. He took his thumb, ran it across his wounded neck—gathering his own blood—and commenced to run the same thumb across Student’s neck. From one side he pressed deep into the wound, mixing blood with blood, pushing all the way across his throat. As he passed, a scar formed and the sting of death was no more. 

Student gasped for air and the man brought him up to his feet. Together they looked over the far side of the mountain, where the rivers looked like honey for they reflected the gold that lined the shores; where the trees were confettied with fruit of every kind; where somehow the sky seemed so broad that the sun could never set. 

“This is your’s, for this is mine” said the man. “But not yet at this time. You must go back to your city, past the desert, past the river, through the garden and bring any who are tired to the foot of this mountain. Think of your teacher. Think of your coach. Think of your friend. Bring them that they too might have treasure.”

“What shall I say?”

“Speak of treasure, show them your scar, and give them this,” he pulled out a key of gold and pearl and wrapped it into Student’s hands.