A Letter From Elijah

Ralph tensed when a light knock came at his bedroom door. He covered his eyes with his arm, and heard the door peek open.

“Honey, some nice men looking for Elijah want to talk to you,” his mother said. “They found something of his, and want to ask you some questions. I can tell them to come another time if you don’t feel like it.”

For a long moment Ralph lay in his bed, breathing and thinking. The door started to close.

“I’ll talk to them,” he whispered.

“I’m sure they’d be happy to do it another t--”

“No, it’s ok. I’ll do it.” Ralph wiped the tears from his cheeks, and sat up.

Garcia sat in a living room chair -- far enough from the boy to avoid his full attention, but close enough to monitor. He had no doubt Ralph’s mother, Mrs. Veronica Mase, had chosen to wash dishes in the nearby kitchen for largely the same reason.

Ralph, blanket over his lap, shifted uneasily in his seat by the coffee table. Garcia nodded at Len, who then stepped up to the boy.

“I’m Detective Len, and that there is Detective Garcia.” Len adopted the same sympathetic tone Garcia had heard countless times before. “We’re working very hard to find your friend, and in doing so we found something we hoped you could help us with.”

Len pulled a small, black notebook from his peacoat.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked.

“That’s one of Elijah’s dream books,” Ralph said, sniffling. “We would go down to the river behind his house and he would write whatever we were dreaming about or wishing for at the time. He always had one on him, but he must have had a lot. Every day the pages were clean and new.”

Len gave a very quick glance to Garcia.

“Well, Ralph,” Len said, “not only is this notebook full, but part of it is addressed to you, as a letter. Now we can’t give it to you, but we can read it to you, and you can let us know what you think. Does that sound alright?”

Ralph nodded.

Len flipped the book open, his eyes passing over the note, “Read it aloud to him. He will have the answers.” He wet his lips, and read aloud.

Ralph,

I’m sorry. If there was any way for me to stay, I would have. But they’re getting close.

Changes are coming -- I don’t know how much time I have left. I’m waiting to leave now from where I first arrived, and the valley is just as strange and quiet as it was before.

I’m worried about the next step. Now that I have to go, I wish I had told you more (though you may find out soon enough). I’ve never been where I’m headed, and even though it’s the right path I already feel alone.

Anyway, I want to thank you for being my friend. I came knowing very little and you showed me the best of what I never guessed I’d find. I control little, but I can give back in some small way.

You will have more time with the things you love than you would have before. In a way, everyone will (as I’ll certainly be followed), but you most of all.

I can give you my dream book if you want it. I can’t take it with me. As long as you can keep it secret beyond today, it’s yours. It holds quite a lot, and it’ll take time to fully explore, but I think you’ll like it.

Lastly, there are troubles you have yet to encounter. If you’re careful, the $20,000 you’ll find should be enough to make it possible.

I don’t want you to worry about me. They can never find me. After all, beyond the book I was never anything.

- Elijah

Garcia watched as Len gently closed the book.

“Anything you can tell us?” Len asked. “About where you think Elijah might be, where he intends to go?”

Ralph said nothing. The look in his eyes seemed very far away. Len waited briefly for some sign of an answer, but with obvious impatience.

“Ralph, anything you can give us would be massively helpful.”

When no response came, Mrs. Mase stepped in from the kitchen.

“He’ll think on it,” she said at Ralph’s side, stroking his head. He didn’t appear to notice. “It’s a lot to ask. We’ll call you when he’s ready.”

Len sighed and turned to Garcia. Garcia shook his head, glancing back at the boy, who now seemed on the verge of speaking.

Len returned his attention to Ralph.

“Thank you for your work,” Mrs. Mase pressed, “but we’re done for today.”

Neither detective moved.

Then the boy whispered. Garcia leaned in, unable to catch it.

“Do what, Ralph?” asked Len.

This seemed to finally reach Ralph, as his eyes met Len’s with a new light behind them.

“Something wonderful,” Ralph said, smiling. “For all of us.”

Garcia squinted at the slight haze in the air by Len’s hands. A shiver slid down his spine, and he leapt out of his chair.

Len opened his mouth to speak when Garcia appeared at his side.

“Where’s the book?” Garcia asked in his ear.

“Right he-” Len frowned as he realized his hands were empty. I just held it, I could have sworn... He felt at his pockets, turning about and searching the floor.

“I can see, now,” Len heard Ralph whisper. “I wish I could show you. So many paths, like a maze of kaleidoscopes. Almost patternless. Nearly…”

Len tuned him out. He was on his knees, lifting couch cushions and checking spaces he might have overlooked. Glancing to his side, he jumped at the sight of Garcia crouched beside him.

“You alright?” Garcia asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry, I thought you were in your chair.”

“We just talked to each other, Len. You knew I was here.”

“... I did? What did we talk about?”

Garcia paused. “You honestly don’t remember?”

“No.”

“I asked where the book was.”

“What book?” But something about a book did sound familiar, just barely out of reach. And quickly fading.

Garcia leaned in. “Len, look at me.”

He complied.

“Where are you?”

“We’re at the…” Len scoffed and shook his head. “Come on, this is ridiculous.” He began to turn, but found himself on his knees. My knees? Why am I on my knees? Was I looking for something? No, no…

It didn’t matter.

“Len--” Garcia started, but Len waved him away.

Len stood, reading his surroundings. He turned to see a boy looking up at him with a curious expression, as if he knew some special secret that no detective could ever pry from him.

“Thank you, young man.” Len said, forcing a smile. “You’ve been a great help.” He looked to the woman at his side, who seemed lost in thought. “If anything else comes up, you know where to call.”

She grunted in agreement, but he doubted she heard a word he said.

Len nodded all the same, and turned to leave.

Garcia waited for his partner to walk out the front door, then rounded on Ralph.

“What just happened to my partner? Where’s the book?”

Ralph met his eyes slowly, then tapped his head.

“Hey,” Mrs. Mase said, an edge to her voice. She blinked. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house? Does John know about this?”

“Ma’am, my name is-”

“He’s a teacher from school, mom,” Ralph interjected, eyes still on Garcia. “He’s just returning something that belongs to me.”

“Oh, I see.” She smiled at Garcia. “Would you like some tea, Mr…?”

“Ford. And yes, that would be lovely, thank you.”

Mrs. Mase retreated to the kitchen, and Garcia didn’t waste a moment. He leaned in.

“What the hell is going on? And how is it that you know?”

“I’m surprised you know to ask.”

“I’m a detective. I’ll find out sooner or later. Best if you just tell me now.”

“I don’t know if any of us know what’s best.”

Garcia nearly spoke, then felt something odd.

“Ah, there it is.” Ralph said.

“There’s what?”

“You tell me.”

“I…” Garcia stood, nodding to the boy. “Thank you. We appreciate your help. Let your mom know if anything else comes to mind.”

“Ok, I will.”

Garcia turned and walked towards the door. He almost made it, too. But just before reaching the door something screamed from within. Something very far away, nearly gone. An instinct, a memory. Or… a lack of one? He stopped just before reaching the door. No. No, it can’t be.

Ralph Mase contained his exulting happiness. For a moment longer. Until he could enjoy it alone, he would wait to explore the opened spaces in his mind -- to experience the dream book in its entirety, or to the full extent that such a thing could be experienced.

Then the detective stopped.

Odd, Ralph thought.

Detective Garcia turned. Ralph was proud of himself for not wanting to run. Something about terrified grown men unnerved him, but today he found himself steady.

“I can feel it,” Garcia whispered.

“It’s ok. I promise.”

“It shouldn’t be possible.”

“‘Possible’ is a funny word.”

Garcia looked down, sighed, and lifted his head back up with his second expression of blank unrecognition.

“I’ll tell my mom if I remember anything else.”

“Right, uh… yes, of course,” Garcia said, blinking. “Sounds great... Have a good one.”

Garcia closed the door on his way out.

Some silent seconds after, Ralph’s mom shuffled in with a cup of tea, frowning.

“You ok, mom?”

“Yes, yes, sorry… Here you go, hun.”

She laid the cup at his side before leaving.

Finally alone, Ralph Mase closed his eyes and opened the book.