Chapter 1: broken commandments

CHAPTER 1: broken commandments

“A book is a mirror. When a monkey looks in, no apostle can look out.”

Georg Lichtenberg

The boy leaned on a window sill, a book open on his knee, and looked out at the rain gushing down from dark skies. It was a dreary sight. His pensive eyes sought out shapes in the clouds.

“What a way to start the holidays.” He sighed, listening to the monotonous sound of water crashing into panes, the roof, the walls. As if the house was at war with the heavens. He turned back to his book.

Three sets of footsteps came rushing up the stairs, one boisterous and loud, one rash and one controlled. The wood squeaked under the force of it, like a thing in excruciating pain. Three voices started up, agitated. They were up to something.

“What are you doing?” The first, a tall dirty blond boy, asked him.

“Reading, Robert.” He replied, shielding the book from his eldest brother and turning the cover away from him.

“Reading what?” He grabbed at the book and read aloud: “Fairytales of Old? Haven’t you outgrown that one yet? Besides, there’s no such thing as fairytales. Come along with us, Michael.”

“Well, what are you guys doing?” He asked, somewhat fearfully.

“Exploring.”, replied the first brother.

“Treasure hunting!” Cried out the second in shrill voice.

“Investigating.” Said the third, blasé.

“Oh my, there we go again.” Reluctantly, he slammed the book shut and laid it aside.

“Ah, don’t be a sour puss, come with us!” The second youngest brother pulled at his sleeve encouragingly. He huffed and the four-headed gang set out to do what they did best: run around and make a mess of things.

They rambled through familiar rooms, went through drawers, cases and closets, but as always, they soon got tired of their game. How many new things could be expected to turn up that were worthy of catching their interest, they’d been through these rooms so many times before... And even if something did turn up, it never held their attention long, fickle as they were. They tossed everything they picked up back where they found it and left it there.

“This is just no fun at all.” Robert muttered disappointed. “And with that weather we’ll be stuck in here for two whole weeks!”

“Why don’t we just go and read a book together.” Michael tried.

“Come on now, you little bookworm, you can’t be serious. The whole point of school holidays is not having to read for a while.”

“It could be fun.” Michael whispered, but no one was listening. “There’s great excitement in books.”

The three brothers fumbled around a bit with the drawers in their parents room, unsure of what to do with themselves, then sighed and sat down on the bed with their head in their hands, wondering what to do next. Boredom had always been a deadly vice.

“We could play a game.” Edward probed, though he didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it.

“Scrabble?” George added in the same dull tone, but enthusiasm was never his cup of tea.

Broodingly, Robert, the eldest and somewhat catlike, got up and ambled out of the room  into the hall, where he came to a sudden stop. He lined his chin, fixated on something, with a mischievous grin starting up. He smelled prey.

Edward, the youngest apart from Michael, who always reminded the latter of a playful light-haired puppy, noticed and quickly came to flank his brother’s left. His face lit up, eyes turning increasingly bright with an unmistakable glow. Even dark-haired George the Badger scrambled to side with his brothers, and stood motionless on Robert’s right, all three staring dead ahead.

A sense of worry darted across Michael’s mind. Only trouble could get them snared like that. And only trouble ever came of it.

“What is it?” Michael asked, anxious.

Robert pointed.

“The attic.” George, the elder of the twins whispered in awe and anticipation.

“The attic!” Shouted the younger twin, Edward.

“What? No way! Dad said...”

“Dad’s not here, now is he?” Robert sneered.

“You won’t get away with this, you know.” Michael folded his arms and stamped his foot.

“Why not?” He probed.

“He’ll find out.”

“Not unless you tell him.” His voice grew dark, threatening. “And you won’t, will you?”

“He always figures out what we’ve been doing, somehow.”

“We’ll be careful this time.”

“Robert, I don’t like this... Robert?”

The trio was already creeping up the stairs, paying no mind to their frantically protesting little brother, whispering after them.

Very slowly, as if it was something sacred and mere touching it an ancient ritual, Robert pushed open the door. It cracked a little, the old wood resistant to give up its eternally closed state, but finally it gave way. Immediately they stuck their heads in to peep and inhaled deeply at the sight.

“Come on, let’s go!” Robert said, signalling his battalion onward. Michael still stood motionless at the foot of the staircase, muttering his complaints, until Robert spotted him. “Michael, get a move on!” He groaned.

“No, I’ll have no part in this.” The boy shook his head vigorously.

“Get IN here!”

“I’m telling you, this is a bad idea!” He objected, obeying with heavy feet, but halted halfway up the steps. It was forbidden. “I think I’ll stay.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Edward said, starry-eyed. George was silent, only having eyes for what they had uncovered.

“I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much.” The boy responded.

“Fine then, have it your way. After me, chaps!” Robert exclaimed, plunging in with his complacent sidekicks.

One after the other, they sneaked in. He heard their cries of wonder and could not help but get curious. After all, he’d never been in there before. Maybe he could have a little peek himself, just to do some damage control. Someone had to keep that pack in check, right?

He succumbed to the tugs of his heart and followed after them. “Guys, wait, wait for me!”

It took a moment to adjust to the sudden dimness. It was a musty smelling room, the decay almost tangible. You knew what kind of place it was the moment you got through the door, or rather shoved to the silky strands that covered the frame from side to side. It was clear that no one, not even their father, had been in here for quite a while. Cobwebs  thrived and thick layers of dust turned everything to a flushed wooden grey. All in all it was not a very peculiar room. A little on the small side, simply equipped and to make things worse, all that dust made his asthma kick in. He coughed in his handkerchief. His brothers had greatly overreacted, most likely to lure him in. Successfully.

The boy blinked, a little dazed, while his brothers scurried from one side to the other continuously, picking at whatever stroke their fancy and rumbling to the boxes full of stuff that time and mankind had abandoned on the floor. Every now and then one of them would pull something out, look at it closely, flipping it around and then fling it back. Binoculars, pictures, newspapers, they all agreed implicitly it was nothing fancy. It must have been their grandpa’s, or his grandpa’s, outdated belongings. And now he looked around at the small space of fainted wood and shelves of rubbish with a sense of impending danger.

“Guys, enough, maybe we should go.” He said faintly, unable to catch his feistier brothers’ attention.

Sighing at their lack of regard, he strolled over to a corner that seemed strangely intriguing. There was a small desk and a chair, the pens and ink spread out under a candle holder as if below the grime life went on unchanged and whoever put them there could walk in any minute to pick up where he left off. It was unsettling, like trespassing in someone else’s space and time, like infringement. He pushed the thought aside and turned back to the shelves on the walls. Some held books, their covers deteriorating right before your eyes, paper yellowed dog-eared and ripped. Then it caught his eye, all their eyes, simultaneously; something glimmered. A light flickered in the stuffy dark of a cobweb covered shelf and got them hypnotized. Like possessed, Robert reached for it, that flash of promise, the same fire in all their gazes.

They stalked closer. It was a black cover, too shadowy to be able to glow, and beautifully bound with a lavish silver lock on the side. The volume was firm looking and rather on the big side. It had something medieval about it, something ancient and magic. Something forbidden.

Such a thing was sure to attract the predatory brothers. Robert’s eager claws were almost upon it, when Michael stepped in. He stood between the vehement trio and their goal and tried to prevent their passage. If they got hold of it, they would destroy it. They were far too fired up to handle a delicate thing like this book, which looked so fragile in its apparent agedness. And so alluring. The pack encircled him.

“Step aside.” Robert commanded in a deep voice.

“No!” Michael stuck up his chin bravely and refused to move an inch.

His determination did not do him much good – slight as he was – the three of them tugged him aside easily. He could just snatch the book off the shelve from under their noses and clasped it firmly. They encroached on him, ready to take it by force. Robert launched for it, but Michael swirled away. Edward came at him from the other side, but missed as well. George looked on from the sidelines, contemplating.

“Just give it up!” Edward squealed, fumbling for the book Michael held to his chest.

“Why are you making this so difficult?” Robert asked.

“I’m keeping this save.”

“From what?” He exclaimed annoyed.

“From you.” Michael shouted through the haze of grabby arms. “All three of you. You’ll ruin it for all of us! You’ve seen the attic, now lay off of everything and just go.”

“You’re mad as a hatter!” Robert yelled, taking a step back to look at him, then rushed ahead once more.

The three boys were now seriously losing their patience with the family’s weak-hearted problem child. They were getting downright vicious – resorting to pulling at locks, limps and clothes – in their attempts to seize the mysterious book from him, that had in its being denied to them received a mystic aura. By a hair’s difference did Robert’s fingers grope past its cover. Michael now slammed his back into the wall. He was cornered.

“Don’t!” He pleaded.

“Oh, please, don’t be ridiculous, Michael.” Robert cried.

“Yeah, it’s just a book, for God’s sakes.” Edward muttered angrily in his high voice.

“You know we’re not supposed to be up here.” The boy replied. “What if they find out?”

“No one is going to find out, you chicken and even if they do, it’s not like we’re wrecking things. There’s nothing else we can do with that bloody rain. Now let go!” The boy brazed himself, shielding the volume with his own body.

“You’ll break it. Dad will be angry!”

“So, I’ll tell him we made you come, now quit being such a pain and give me that book!” Robert pulled at it, joined by Edward and even George offered his reticent aid taking it.

Reluctantly, the boy let go of his clenched treasure, which immediately passed into three sets of hands at once. As soon as they touched it, Michael saw a flash of gold appear on the cover. At first it was just a spot, but it expanded and grew brighter, finally legible.

“What’s that?” He exclaimed, carefully stepping closer, looking at that curious gold. Robert protectively curved the book away from Michael, afraid he might want to take it back. Michael bent over to it across the busy arms of his brothers. It were letters. In a shaky voice, he read aloud:

Reader, behold!

Another world, shall soon unfold...

“Another world?” Michael stumbled back as if he had been bit. “Let go of that book! It’s evil!”

“Did you fall down and hit your head?!” Robert cried out, pulling away. “It’s a book!”

“I’m telling you, there’s something wrong with it, look!” He pointed at the golden hue frantically.

“Look where, nutcase?” Robert turned the book around and around, annoyed.

“The letters, on the cover, they weren’t there before!” The boy stuttered hastily.

His frown grew deeper. “What letters? There’s nothing on the cover.” Robert showed him the front of the book. It was blank.

“I don’t understand, I...”

“Nice try, kiddo!” Edward replied.

“I think he finally snapped.” George added, dryly, suppressing a yawn.

“Perhaps he just wants some attention.” The oldest sibling briskly ran through his younger brother’s hair. “There, there, boy.”

“Cut it out, I’m not a dog, Robert!” Michael fought off his intrusive hands and took a step back, frightened by the fire in their eyes.

Robert clutched the book and picked at the lock. “Bloody thing won’t open...” He uttered, going at it with all his force.

“Let me help.” Edward plunged in.

“Maybe if you turn it like this.” George tried. “It’s a puzzle.”

“Be careful, you’ll break it, you idiot!” Edward pushed at Robert.

“Hey, lay off me, you little worm, it’s mine. Give it to me!”

In their zeal all three picked and pulled at the lock violently. All at once there was a ringing snap. The silver crashed to the floor in pieces, each resonating a horrible metal clatter that set their teeth on edge. In that echoing clang, just for a moment, it was as if time stood still. All four sucked in their breath and held it, looking at the broken padlock on the floor.

“What have you done?” Michael muttered. “You broke it... See, I told you.”

“Come on.” Robert replied. “It’s not like anyone’s going to notice.” Robert wiped the cobwebs off the cover.

Elbowing each other to get a good hold and view of it, three pairs of hands eagerly opened the volume, leaving the trio coughing in a cloud of dust. As soon as the manuscript was opened, a beam of violently bright light emerged from the pages. A white haze of sparkly particles in silver, gold, blue and purple intruded throughout the room, enveloping them. It was blinding. They covered their eyes, but it burned through their eyelids and filled the room as if the sun itself went up in it. It enwrapped them, attached itself to the sibling and hurled them away. When the brothers opened their eyes again, all had changed.