Michael Devaney - The Elisha Pool

After receiving the translation, the Medicine Man placed his hands together as if he were praying and bowed to show his appreciation.

“Although I won’t need to use the pool again on myself for some time, I plan to bring my wife back here very soon. And when I do, I can bring with me whatever you desire.”

The statement made Owen stop chewing his food. After a long pause, he swallowed hard. “Grandpa. Your wife is dead.”

“Ha!” Stephenson responded, then blurted out a sinister laugh. “Not for long, son. I plan on bringing her back, then I’ll bring her here. If the pool worked me, it’ll work on her.”

Owen was slow to speak. “Not sure it works that way, Grandpa,” he uttered. “Once people die they can’t—”

Stephenson didn’t give Owen a chance to finish his sentence. Before Owen could move, Stephenson leapt from his chair, spilling food in all directions, grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the ground. Stephenson had insane eyes and a death grip around his grandson’s neck. Owen fought hard to free himself, but he was no match for Stephenson’s newfound strength. If not for the intervention of the Translator and Medicine Man, Owen would have been unconscious, if not dead.

The whole scene was over in a matter of minutes. In the aftermath, they all sat hunched over staring at each other trying to catch their breath. Each of them looked genuinely shocked except for Stephenson. After an uncomfortable silence, Stephenson returned to his chair and began eating as if nothing had happened.

Owen turned a solemn, but probing, gaze toward the Translator. His wide-eyed fear begged for direction.

The Translator’s eyes quickly darted around the room, then locked on Owen. Reading the panic on the young man’s face, he discreetly pointed a thumb toward the door then mouthed the word — LATER.

It took nearly three hours before Stephenson’s excessive eating, drinking and odd behavior got the best of him. When his limits finally ran their course, he hit the wall and ended up passed out, face first, in a plate of stew.

With Stephenson sleeping it off in his hammock, the Translator and Owen met privately outside the hut to exchange their concerns.

“What is going on with my grandpa?” Owen whispered impatient to understand the warning signs he’d witnessed from his grandpa at dinner.

The Translator held his palms up in an attempt to calm him down.

“Although maybe a little excessive in his case, your grandpa’s strange behavior is normal for this type of ceremony. That’s why the Chief and his men didn’t overreact. You’ll just have to keep an eye on him for awhile.”

Owen shot the Translator a glimpse of unbelief. “What? How is what we saw normal? My grandpa would never attack me. Never. Something has gone horribly wrong.”

“Because he’s temporarily insane,” the Translator said, matter-of-factly. “It’s a normal side effect of using the pool. You should have been informed of the consequences beforehand. If I’d known you didn’t know, I would have told you. The un-aging process is extremely complex. Although the body’s physical aspects recover more quickly, the brain takes longer.”

“How long will he be this way?”

“It’s hard to say. Most folks snap out of it relatively quickly, maybe within a day or so, but with him coming back from such an advanced age it could take longer. Maybe as long as a week. Of course, I don’t want to alarm you, but there have been a few cases where the insanity was permanent.”

“What!” Owen blurted out.

“Shh. Someone will hear you,” the Translator warned.

“So what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” Owen asked.

“It would probably be best if you could keep him here in the village until he’s normal again. There’s not as much harm he can do around here compared to out there in the civilized world.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Owen said. “You don’t know my grandpa.”

After lunch the next afternoon the Medicine Man sent for Stephenson and the Translator.

“Greetings, my friend,” the Medicine Man said. “I have information I need to share with you; information I thought you understood.”

“Very well,” Stephenson said, smiling. “Hit me with it.”

“Earlier yesterday, you remarked about your desire to return to the pool again and again in the future in an attempt to live forever.”

“Yes, that’s right. There’s no need in knowing about a fountain of youth if you don’t put it to use.”

“The waters don’t work that way, my friend,” the Medicine Man said, his tone deep and serious. “The pool only works once for each person. It is the law of the jungle.

“That’s absurd,” Stephenson protested. “It’s a pool of regeneration. By definition it’s meant for regenerating things.”

The Medicine Man’s face turned somber. “Bad things happen when you upset the law,” he said.

Stephenson’s face contorted in an expression of raging non-compliance. “You’re just telling me that to scare me off,” he blurted back. “But I’m not falling for it.” Then, a manipulative light bulb went off in his head and his demeanor changed on a dime from rage to serene. “Okay, my friend,” he said, smiling. “Let’s not worry about that right now, shall we? We’re both young and healthy men again. Let’s be happy with that.”

The Medicine Man shot a concerned look at the Translator, then at Stephenson. “The law of the jungle must be strictly adhered to…otherwise there are serious consequences.”

Stephenson nodded without rebuttal. “I will want to bring my wife over soon though,” he said. “Now that I’m able, that is.”

The Translator turned his eyes to the Medicine Man with a look of alarm. When he translated Stephenson’s message, the Medicine Man wore the same alarmed expression.

“That is impossible,” the Medicine Man replied. “It is an unnatural act to use the pool on a dead person. It would not only corrupt her but also the pool, rendering its healing waters ineffective forever.”

Stephenson’s anger was building. He tried to control the rage, but his body language gave him away. He clasped his hands together and let the moment pass, then tried again. “She won’t be dead when I bring her here.” He made the statement as though he were negotiating to eat at his favorite restaurant for dinner.

“No,” the Medicine Man said, firmly. “It is forbidden. These pools occur naturally and must be respected. Anything that breaks the rules or is introduced artificially can cause grave consequences.”

“But…”

“You have been warned,” the Medicine Man said sternly.

Stephenson’s lips tightened. He rose abruptly, without speaking, and left the Medicine Man’s hut. He made the short walk to his own hut where Owen lay tossing and turning in his hammock. “Pack your things,” Stephenson said. “We’re leaving.”

“Leaving? Why?” Owen asked, jumping from the hammock. A mild panic edged his voice.

“Just do it,” Stephenson commanded.

“But don’t you think we should stay here a few more days just in case?”

“In case of what?” Stephenson asked, more rhetorical than questioning.

“I don’t know,” Owen said. “In case we have more questions about the ceremony and what to expect if there are any side effects.”

“No,” Stephenson said. “I have all the answers I need. We’re leaving now. After we pack, I’ll call ahead for them to prepare the helicopter. I also—”

In the midst of his rant Stephenson had another light bulb moment cross his mind. He stopped talking in mid-sentence while the thought swirled around inside his head. Then a creepy smile stretched across his face.