Chapter Text
I’m warm. I can feel the sunlight, beaming down on me; it’s so bright my eyelids are transparent. I feel liquid like honey, thick and sweet. It’s cool beneath me, lying on dewy grass. I can smell the dirt and freshness of spring. My eyes flutter open and I see an apple tree above me, blushing red fruit scattered amongst the green leaves. I’m lying down on a grassy area, under an apple tree with my head near the roots. I feel my mouth water but I don’t feel a bit hungry.
There’s a wonderful light feeling in my heart, nothing like I’ve felt in England. Like all the bad parts of me, all the heaviness in my insides, even the stuff I’d been plagued with but hadn’t known about, it had all come out of me. I feel freedom like I could float away—up, up to the clouds above. I feel so impossibly, joyfully, content.
I look up, and the sky beyond the trees is a delicate, baby blue; there’s a slight breeze blowing by, like a playful sprite dashing to and fro. I stretch my arms up and point my toes, the muscles in my arms and legs extending. Glancing down, my eyes widen as I take in my appearance. It’s quite strange: I’m wearing a dark navy tunic, black trousers stitched with a pale, gold color, and tan boots. It reminds me, just a distant, foggy memory, of Narnia.
Oh God. Narnia. I must be in Narnia. Only in Narnia do I feel this freedom inside of me.
A wonderful, pounding, excitement in my chest begins to build.
Oh, Lord! Narnia!
But where’s Peter? He was just next to me! And Lucy, Eustace, Jill, Aunt Polly, and the Professor? Mother and Father? We were to meet them at the train station, when, when—! How strange! I can’t remember. It was loud, unbearably loud, with a great scratching sound and the shocking blare of horns, so the train must have come in. There had been a great bang afterward. But what had happened then? Why was I here? A twinge of fear takes hold of me, that I’d come here alone—where was Peter? Aslan had warned us that Susan and Peter were no longer welcome, and then that Lucy and I were no longer welcome either, but here I am. Dear Lord, in Narnia!
I’m interrupted from my increasing anxiety, by a voice calling out my name, “Edmund! Edmund, are you here? Oh, hurry!”
“Peter? Oh, is that you?” I turn to my left, pick myself up, and walk past the width of the tree. I appear to be on a hill. I quicken my pace, calling out again,
“Peter! Peter, I’m walking towards you I think!”
“Edmund! Oh come quick, we’re in Narnia, Edmund! Hahaha! Oh, Aslan, we’re in Narnia!”
I run down the hill, finding Peter standing in awe in front of a door. A door, with no walls and nothing attached to it. It’s a dark, mahogany color with intricate swirls, flowers, and running animals on the trim: lions, bears, horses, and minotaurs. It’s beautiful.
Peter hugs me nearly desperately and laughs loudly again. I cling to him, taking his shoulders in my arms and facing him, bewildered.
“Peter, do you remember how we got here?”
He smiles brightly at me,
“I don’t know but dear God, I thought I’d never come back to Narnia! It’s glorious. Everything is lighter and more colorful: the smells are stronger, the sky is larger, and oh, how I miss the Narnians! Where are they, you think?” He looks around, past the door at the rolling hills and snowy mountain range.
I sigh, though I can’t keep a creeping grin from my face. Narnia!
“But Peter, we were in England! I think something funny has happened. Don’t you remember?”
“No, Edmund, I don’t. There was a great loud noise and then—though I don’t remember falling asleep—I’d woken up here. And in front of me was this door.”
I feel a bubbling curiosity, as I turn from him, back to the door.
“Have you tried opening it?”
“No, I didn’t want to venture it alone. Who knows what’s on the other side? I was hoping you and Lucy were still with me.”
“Well come on, let’s find them.”
And so we went out across that grassy field, calling out for Lucy and Eustace and the rest.
_____________________________________________________________
Matthew and his lot keep snickering. I hear them behind me, whispering their stupid jokes. I get the sinking suspicion they’re laughing at me. Mr. Montgomery is staring at me.
“Edmund.”
I’ve not been listening.
“Yes, sir?” I’m nervous, my leg is shaking underneath the desk. We’ve been reading First Corinthians and I can’t remember where we are. The class is no longer listening, chattering amongst themselves. I feel his sole gaze on me.
There’s a sour face of disappointment masking his features, “What is Paul referring to in verse sixteen, ‘the two will become one flesh’?”
I sit, wishing I was anywhere but under his judgemental gaze. What a horrible Christian I am.
“I don’t know sir,” I begrudgingly admit.
He sighs, “Genesis two, Edmund.”
He moves on, dropping a textbook on the table with a loud clap. The classroom quiets, and he begins discussing Adam and Eve.
I feel breath at my neck, as Matthew leans forward to whisper in my ear.
“First Corinthians nine, ‘Nor the ‘effeminate’ shall inherit the kingdom of God.’ Are you feeling hot Edmund?”
I say nothing, feeling unbearably warm. I would sock him in the face if I could. Nothing good would come of that. It’d end up four against one, with me, curled into a ball on the linoleum.
He scoffs, leaning back into his chair with a quiet rasp of his chair.
Once the class has finished, I quickly gather my books and bag, walking to the library, hoping Matthew won’t follow me. I walk from the classroom, turning right down the hallway, left, then entering through double doors to the main hall. I can feel Matthew breathing on me, a warm breeze on my neck. Shuddering, I take the stairs across from me, two steps at a time. I push open the doors with my hands, entering the library.
I feel safer already. I find the biology section where there’s a nook I like to read in, in the corner hidden away between the shelves. I relax, dropping down with my bookbag against me.
My mind draws back to class. Oh, how I hate Matthew. I hate him, deep in my bones. I hate his stupid, ugly face. I hate his cheeky grins, his know-it-all attitude, his hateful, hateful, voice.
I fumble in my bookbag, taking out and reading the stupid, stupid King James Bible:
“Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.”
I hate Matthew. I hate all the horrible people in England. I hate them and their agendas. I burn at the way they abuse what’s dear to me. I hate God. How God and Aslan are the same in this world is beyond me.
“Don’t think that. What would Aslan say?”
I flinch, my eyes shooting upwards across from me. There he is, Caspian. My heart leaps at the sight of him. I can’t manage to be embarrassed at the cliche, I feel so lovesick looking at him. His hair is at his shoulders, he has a bit of a beard growing in, and his clothes are the same as the last time I saw him at the standing wave. His skin is clear and bright; he looks beautiful despite the reproachful look on his face.
“I can’t imagine. I haven’t seen Aslan since I was last with you.”
Caspian’s eyes are blank as he replies, “I haven’t seen him either.” He pauses, “I wonder if he sees us.”
“I’ve missed you Caspian. Quite a lot. I thought about you for months after I left. I still think about you.” I feel an ache that the words won’t banish.
Caspian smiles, just lightly at the corners of his mouth.
“And I as well. You’ve plagued my dreams.”
I feel a rush of warmth in my stomach, “Oh yeah? Have I been beating you in our duels? Outsmarting you with my renowned wit?”
He laughs, it’s a pleasant sound that fills my chest. “No Edmund, I win all our duels. You don’t last longer than a few minutes.”
“Hey wait, that’s awfully arrogant of you! I held my ground our last duel! I swear, it was almost a draw! And though I admit, I’m not as skilled a swordsman as you are, I hold my own in a good argument.”
I wince a bit, inadvertently reminding myself of our most notable argument, images of golden men and damp, dank caves flashing by. I see it in Caspian’s face, he’s thinking of it too. The bitter argument stirs up the fear and worry I had experienced in Narnia. The deep, desperate, desire for power that had plagued me with the White Witch. I had felt so alone, so completely alone. The way I feel now, at my dreadful school during a terrible war, surrounded by simmering fear and the distant hint of death. How lucky Susan was to be in America. How unlucky I was to be in England with the constant sirens and evacuations. Lucy and Eustace helped wonders, but they didn’t understand me the way I had felt understood by Caspian. And even then, he could only understand a part of me.
“I’ve thought long about what I would say to you if I saw you again. I dreaded the day I would come and die, and still not see you. I felt hopeless, to only see you in dreams. Edmund, I know you feel the same as I do. There’s a kinship I’ve never experienced with another. I look at you and I feel as if I’ve ripped a part of my heart out and gifted it to you. The rest of it is reserved for her—for Narnia, and so Aslan. You know so. But this part of me, it’s followed you to England. So though I’ve never stepped foot in your land, I feel as if I’ve lived there all these years. Since we first met and parted—and again since you’ve left.”
His eyes bore into me.
“I see you as more than a friend, closer than a brother, a shared sense of heart and soul. My whole life, I live for Aslan’s glory. But in this, I know I am being selfish. I’ve reserved my secret heart for you.”
I feel hot tears in the corner of my eyes, “I am your friend and brother. We are of a shared heart. I know I belong here, but I didn’t want to leave Narnia. Oh, what I would have done to stay with you. I curse at the thought of it now! Oh, Aslan, he can truly be horrible, though I love him with my whole heart! Like the sight of you, the sight of Aslan fills me with both joy and dread. To be known by him, but know also he would admonish me to loneliness. I almost—! I almost hate him!”
A great roar shakes me; I feel the sound in my ears, heart, and chest. The sound morphs into words,
“Dear boy, do hold your tongue.”
“Aslan!” We both chorus, turning to where Aslan is standing, next to the various books. It’s a queer scene; he really shouldn’t look as regal as he does, cramped into the walkway between the shelves. I feel a strange dissonance seeing him, here, in England. It’s unnatural.
“Aslan, I do hope you understand—! I didn’t imagine you would be listening to me, not after having gone so long without you. This is the first I’ve seen of you or Caspian in over a year, though I expected to never see you at all.”
“Edmund, didn’t I tell you? I am here, under another name. I brought you to Narnia to know me, so you may know me here. Your time in England is not without me. And even more, whatever good that came of you in Narnia and comes of you in England, is only a taste of what will come in my country.”
He pauses, love and humour in his eyes.
“I know you miss Narnia, and you miss Caspian, but you will meet them again. It is only a little while longer. Caspian has his duties to his people, to Lilliandil, and to Rillian, who you do not know yet. You may love him, but know he is content.”
I feel a heavy dread sink on my shoulders, the weight of it pushing me down, further into the cushions I recline on. “Aslan—how is it you are here?”
“You know Edmund. You’re dreaming. Be thankful for this small blessing and kindness I have bestowed on you, and wake. You have a life to live. The God of your world is me. We are one and the same. Follow Him and you will follow me, worship Him and you will worship me, love Him and you will love me. Live your life in truth, justice, holiness, and love. That is how the loneliness will leave. You will see justice only in Our truth. Goodbye, Edmund. You will not see me again, not until your time has come.”
His eyes are kind and righteous, his mane shakes, glorious gold, and I hear his paws, softly padding against the floor. I look at Caspian, knowing this will be the final time I see him, and I memorize his face. His kind eyes, crinkling at the corners, the upturned lips, his strong jaw.
“Goodbye Caspian. I will see you where the sky meets the sea, in Aslan’s Country.”
He smiles at me, opens his mouth, and laughs to say something—when CLAP!
I startle, my eyes wide open, darting back and forth and down, where my Bible lies on the floor.
I did not hear him speak. His last words to me ring in my head,
“I’ve reserved my secret heart for you.”