Jackson Jones, Book 1_ The Tale of a Boy, an Elf, and a Very Stinky Fish - Jenn L. Kelly [41]
Jackson climbed up the riverbank. Josh the Page sat under a golden weeping willow, the branches shading him. He looked up at them and smiled.
Josh stood up and Meeka ran over, giving him a big hug. “Well?” he asked.
Jackson swallowed nervously. What if he had failed? He reached into his pockets and held out the stones for Josh to see. Josh looked down into Jackson’s hand, and then laughed.
“So how was the adventure?”
“Well, if you hadn’t shown up and saved us, I probably wouldn’t be here.”
“I came to save you?”
“Yeah, if you hadn’t been there to get us out of that tree, we would have fallen.”
“We almost died!” Meeka shouted.
Josh’s smile faltered. “I never left this bank, Jackson.”
“But that’s impossible!” spluttered Jackson. “Meeka fell of a cliff and was holding onto my bag, which was hanging off a branch in a tree, and the branch was breaking, and I jumped out to save her and then we fell, and then we were stuck in another tree, and you came along and saved us.”
“Jackson, I never left this spot.”
Jackson didn’t know what to think. Meeka chewed on the ends of her hair. She was oddly quiet.
“Tell me the story again,” Josh said. And Jackson told him. Josh nodded thoughtfully. “Jackson, I’m an apprentice. I don’t have those kinds of powers, nor privileges. I’m only allowed to lead you to the river and tell you what to do. The rest was up to you. I’ve been sitting here, waiting for you and studying my apprentice’s book.”
“Then who was there? It looked like you, it sounded like you, it had to be you!”
Josh looked out over the river. “Jackson, I think you just met the Author.”
Chapter 64
A Chapter that Explains the Author…Even More!
Jackson’s insides churned. He was nervous, but a happy kind of nervous.
“How could I have met the Author? He looked like you.”
Josh was thoughtful. “I don’t know. But I think you did. It’s very rare, but I have read of circumstances where the Author steps out and reveals himself to the one seeking.”
“But I wasn’t seeking him!” Jackson argued. “And besides, he didn’t reveal himself! It was you!”
Josh frowned for a moment in concentration. “I think I read about this in Section 24A of my apprentice book.” He rifled through its pages. “Okay, ‘The Author will occasionally reveal himself when the occasion is appropriate. The Author may take any shape or form to best suit the interaction between himself and the Seeker,’” he quoted.
“But why did he look like you?”
Josh shook his head. “I don’t know. Usually the Author takes the form of someone Seekers know well, or someone they trust. Do you trust me? Is that it?”
Jackson ruminated. (Ruminated is like when you think about something so hard you feel like your head is going to explode. Not really explode. Just feel like it.
Oh, never mind.) Then he looked up at Josh. “Yeah, for some strange reason, I trust you.”
Josh nodded, smiling at Jackson. “So what made you choose those stones?” He took the stones from Jackson and examined them closely.
“I don’t know. I picked up different stones that had writing on them, but…”
“But?”
Jackson looked down at his feet. “Well, maybe they were true. But they said stuff like, You have a bad haircut, You’re bad at baseball, You are stupid, You have no friends…” Jackson’s voice trailed off.
“What else did they say?” Josh prodded gently.
Jackson quickly rubbed his eyes. “You are not…worth loving. Your dreams are not real. You are not special.” Jackson stopped. His throat had a large lump stuck in it.
Josh laid his hand gently on Jackson’s shoulder. Jackson didn’t look up at him.
“Jackson,” he whispered.
Jackson found the ground moss fascinating.
“Jackson. Look at me.”
Jackson wiped his eyes again and looked up at him. His eyes hurt, and his face felt hot.
“Jackson, do you really believe all those things?” Josh asked.
Jackson shrugged and looked over Josh’s shoulder,