Quest for the Dark Crystal: To Heal a Rupture in the Universe

Quest for the Dark Crystal

Copyright © 2015 Connie Timpson

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-1516959471

DEDICATION

For Chad, my inspiration, and piece of myself. This story has been a long time in coming. To Madison and Tim who read, read to each other, read again, and offered astute young advice. (We need to turn time on its head and take another road trip to grandma’s house.) Sydney and Grayson this is for you too.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you Karl, my ever-present consultant/editor/reader and teller of truths, it would not yet be finished if it were not for you.

The sun and moon dance together once a year. They embrace, then hold hands and spin between stars. For three locked minutes the universe stops but for these two. Sun smiles at Moon and swirls around him for the last time, kissing him first on the left cheek and then the right. As they drop their hands the night’s magical black, where all the colors of the rainbow rests, splinters into silver and golden moonbeams, dusting the sky with gold and silver wonder, the magic dust of time.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Take Back the Universe

Chapter 2 The Boy Who Loved the Stars

Chapter 3 Riding the Tail of a Comet

Chapter 4 Cloud Racers

Chapter 5 Tarnished Beauty

Chapter 5 A Rip in the Universe

Chapter 6 Betraying The Magic

Chapter 7 Galaxy Gliding

Chapter 8 A Day That Changed Everything

Chapter 9 The Deal

Chapter 10 The Wisdom of Grandpa

Chapter 11 Night Riders

Chapter 12 Walker’s Night Sky Discoveries

Chapter 13 Grandpa Much More Than He Seems

Chapter 14 Spiraling into Darkness

Chapter 15 A Brutal Betrayal

Chapter 16 The New Underground

Chapter 17 Walker Befriends the Neejits

Chapter 18 Breaking The Spell

Chapter 19 Neejits Stand Tall

Chapter 20 Burindee’s Rescue

Chapter 21 Warrior Magic

Chapter 22 An Undeniable Truth

Chapter 23 Losing a Friend

Chapter 24 Coming Home Is Good

Take Back the Universe

Deep lines around the Ancient's rugged blue eyes told of the struggle he had chosen to champion. He must restore the ruptured universe before darkness gained complete control. I have traveled with you for a long time, the black bird perched on the Ancient's shoulder said. ‘Is it time we set out again?

Yes, Ebony. I am tired from holding so much in my head and heart.

The Ancient silently ran his finger along a threadlike scar that ran across his left eye. When he touched the line he felt all the pain and trials of the universe. He held himself, willing it to stop. But the pain was so great it shook his bones and tried to crush his heart, throwing him to the floor.

Each seizure foretold the rip in the universe becoming bigger. Each time the pain was more severe, and the seizures more violent.

Worse still, were the memories. The past stalked him, grabbed him, and took him hostage. Seizures shook him until his bones rattled. The trees howled in the forest. Their limbs fought against each other trying to stay upright. They too remembered when the wicked queen raged, casting a spell on the Ancient’s warrior soldiers. Screaming, and spewing a gurgling green, she turned them into trees that then took root in the evil part of the forest where little sunlight fell.

With each seizure came a great storm. Trees used their softest leaves to gently hold onto the tiny birds that sang from their branches. The azure sky turned angry black and clouds skulked across its face. Each blackening cloud raced the other to get out of the path of the thunder that would surely shake them apart.

The fish dove deep into the sea afraid the waves would throw them lifeless onto the beach. The Rabo fish pulled their lashes closed and lost their ever-constant smiles. With fat bellies that made them push through the dark churning water rather than glide, they swam. Slower than all the rest, but push and glide, swim they must. This was a storm the likes of which only their grandparents had told.

The Ancient lie there unable to move, thinking only of the deed ahead. Then a rainbow shattered the sky, sending bits of the universe to fall on him. He stretched out his long craggy hands and the rainbow exploded into bits of magic that fell into the wrinkles of his knowing skin.

His silver hair shimmered. The magic bits danced on his fingertips, and he tucked the night magic into the gold and silver amulet about his neck. His eyebrows glowed with the colors of the rainbow.

All the shining magic of the universe began to work. Slowly the pain ebbed, subsided, and left him.

It was time. He drew on the power granted him by the ancient forces connecting him to the Amethyst Mountain. His internal strength was like a fire kindling his blood. He stood taller, breathed deeper, and moved more quickly than he had in years.

The Neejits must see the entrance to the Hidden Valley, where the Amethyst Mountain cast goodness on the land. In the Valley they would be safe from the Others. It was a place where the Crystal Forest blocked any of the bad rays of the sun. It only allowed entrance to good creatures, with loving hearts, and caring souls.

A steep purple mountain, lined with crystal trees, gave way to lush valleys, nourished by the clearest rivers in the universe. When the sun broke into an even path from the West, the streambeds glistened with crystals and precious jewels. The Ancient knew the power of these gems. They were more than beauty and material value. They held the key to knowledge. They were never to be coveted. If you looked closely and believed in their spiritual value, they glistened with flashes of the future.

It was time to make a quest, but the Neejits must be the biggest part of the crusade. To appreciate their world, they must rescue themselves and help restore balance to the universe. He would, of course, help them. But their survival depended on a joint struggle.

The Ancient had given others a glimpse into the Crystal Forest through the mysterious veil of a comet. There was Caesar, the ruler of a great land. Leonardo the gifted one. And the astronomer, Galileo, had come so close. But none had grasped its full meaning or possibilities. It was time to try again. The Neejits needed a guide; a believer in things magical, who was curious and strong.

The Boy Who Loved the Stars

The Ancient knew exactly whom he could trust, a smart and curious boy named Walker. The Ancient watched Walker make discoveries and explore the universe with the view of a child who had experienced more difficulties than most adults. He was determined. Having nothing, he survived the best way he could.

He knew how to sneak onto the bus without paying. If he was quiet, any book he wanted to read in the whole library was his for the time the building was open. There was even a kind librarian that often gave him a sandwich, saying she was full. And it was nice and warm.

After his mother left him at night he pressed his face to the window. He peered through the grate that barred their tiny basement apartment’s windows to the street. He liked it best when it got very late. The legs and briefcases were no longer in the way of the stars. When he concentrated, he could see dots of brilliance between the mechanical illuminations created by the streetlights.

He played a game. If he could touch a star, it would share a secret with him. The brightest stars would whisper out loud. He was sure they spoke to him.

He drew mythical beings in art class and the kids crowded around to see his artwork. His teacher saw no magic. She unkindly explained that there were rules. If she asked him to draw a cow–he would draw a cow. So he kept his magical drawings for his grandma, and continued to watch the stars. His mother was not interested in his art, or anything else. Only the little pills that she told him made her feel like living.

He might be half asleep, but it always registered when she came home. The click of the front door freed him to really sleep.

One night, sleep simply refused to wrap him in its quiet comfort. He laid awake waiting to hear the door open. There were no sounds of a key turning the lock. He heard nothing the next night, or the one after that. His mother simply stopped coming home. He knew better than to ask for help. The police took her away once before. She had promised the judge that she would take better care of her son and be a better parent. He knew as she said it, that she would break the promise. His silent heart begged her to be different, but he knew she would let him down again.

He waited. And he waited. The stars were not enough to take the hunger from his belly. He awakened every morning to the same painful emptiness. No food in the cupboard. No mother.

She had simply disappeared into the night. His mother had forgotten that she had a child, a son who loved and depended on her.

Slamming an empty cupboard, he barely heard the door open.

Mom. Mom! Where were you?

Walker. It’s Grandma. Where is your Mom?

I don’t know Grandma. I am sure she will be home soon, he added nervously.

Grandma pursed her lips and went through the cupboards.

Walker, there is nothing here. What have you had to eat? How long has she been gone?

When he didn’t reply she took control. Walker, get your things, you are coming with me.

It was the first time he saw anger break his grandmother’s smile.

What about Mom?

We will try to find her.

Walker was called to the school office a few weeks later. A social worker explained that she would try and find a foster home for him.

But Grandma, I live with my Grandma.

Walker your Grandmother is too old to take care of you.

But they did not know his Grandma. She went straight to legal aid, and then to court. Walker went home with Grandma.

Grandma kept her promise to look for her daughter. They searched and searched, finally settling into a routine. They kept phone calls to a minimum just in case she tried to call. They asked Walker’s former neighbors to let them know if they saw his mother. Grandma always made sure that Walker had an apple or cookie tucked away in his pocket. She knew it made him feel more secure.

Life was not easy, but he liked being with his Grandma. He delivered newspapers early in the morning. Whether there was sun, rain or freezing cold with a foot of snow, he threw papers up on the steps of his neighbors. He studied hard at school, which earned him the label of teacher’s robot. The kids bullied him because he didn’t have any electronic games, and was not willing to steal them. They also whispered that he was the kid whose mother dumped him. He tried not to listen.

At night he coaxed stories from his Grandmother as they ate. He wanted to hear everything about his mom. Grandma made him smile, and sometimes she made him laugh right out loud when she told stories of what his mother was like as a little girl. Grandma acted out whole scenes.

One Sunday your mother said she was too sick to go to church. I must have barely cracked my hymnal before she sneaked into the kitchen, and got into the cherry pie I had just baked for Sunday dinner. Realizing she was the only one in the house, she panicked. She had only one choice. At least that is what she thought. Piece after piece, she ate that whole cherry pie to eliminate the evidence. Told me she had given the pie to a hungry neighbor, even though she had cherry colored lips and sticky fingers.

Grandma held her stomach and rolled her eyes in mock pain adding, She really was sick then! I certainly could not discipline her when she had a bad bellyache. That was punishment enough.

When Grandma quit laughing and wiping her eyes she went on as if it happened just yesterday, She was loveable as a child.

Grandma sighed, and added sadly, Then she grew up.

Grandma loved listening to Walker’s wild stories about the stars, and the creatures that lived among them. She told him that his drawings belonged in a museum. (He rolled his eyes and smiled at that one.) She hugged him telling him that he had a fine imagination.

_____

The wonderful stories about his mother, and Walker’s tales about the stars all ended one Sunday morning three years after his mother disappeared. Grandma didn’t wake for church or anything else.

Because Walker was now 13-years-old a judge decided he was too hard to place in foster care. He told Walker he had no choice but to send him to Lakeland, a home for juveniles that no one wanted to deal with.

Walker tried to fit in. But did not. He tried to act tough. But could not. The worst thing he had ever done in his life was steal food when he was starving. The other boys laughed at him. They jumped him, giving him a fat lip, or nosebleed when they knew the cameras that hung in almost every room were turned away. He escaped into books. Learning. Hiding. Trying to be invisible.

Trying to show these boys a different path, the administrators of the school took them on a field trip to the Chicago Observatory. While the other kids clowned around or acted bored, Walker explained what they were seeing before their guide could. Frustrated, the guide told Walker if he liked, he could go to a more advanced part of the observatory.

Wow!

One of the guards, Johnny, took him to the top of the observatory. When the bus pulled out no one missed Walker.

As the guards in the observatory made their final rounds they found Walker laid out flat on his back at the top of the observatory. They shined a flashlight in his eyes, and he jumped up and ran. They ordered him to stop. They found a shaking boy in tears with a very interesting notebook. Instead of calling for the police they called the director of the program.

She took a cab