Part 2. Lake

In the days that followed, Leo seemed to watch his every move. He was careful, Seth noted, to direct any conversation away from the subject of religion, but as he spent more time with Seth, the subject came up more and more often, even as they concentrated on the urgent issues at hand, such as the dwindling supply of food.

"Fourteen goats... and then we will fast," Leo said one morning. "Then you will not have to rake any more."

"Then what?"

"Then we wait for summer."

"This is only the second week in November!"

Leo smiled. "Have you no faith in your god to provide?"

Seth didn't answer.

"It is this man who you believe is God, who said,'...I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.' Book of Matthew, chapter seventeen, verse twenty... book of Luke, chapter seventeen, verse six."

"I guess you do know the Bible," Seth said, impressed.

"Even the Devil knows the Bible. I'm quite sure he was there when it was being written."

"You are baiting me, then," Seth said.

"Baiting you?" Leo paced around the room, something Seth had not seen him do before. It was a form of fidgeting, and Leo had said he didn't believe in wasting anything, including energy.

"You seem upset," Seth said hesitantly.

"I don't get upset," Leo muttered, giving his robe a hitch.
"Well, you seem like it."

"I told you, I don't get UPSET," Leo snarled suddenly, eyes bulging. He gathered up fistfuls of his robe and clutched it closer about him as though he had a sudden chill. Seth could hear Leo's teeth grinding together, as he stood, trembling with pent up rage.

That was when Seth started thinking that he might have made a mistake in coming there, to a situation that he couldn't escape, at least until the storms abated for a couple of months in summer. Perhaps it was going to take faith of the mountain-moving kind, to get through the winter in one piece.

The days ground on, and the wind-borne snow scoured mercilessly at the solid walls of the monastery, swirled around the courtyard, and tugged at Seth's clothing as he followed Leo back to their quarters, staggering under the weight of the goat carcass. He threw it down on the foyer floor with a sigh of relief, as Leo shut the door behind him.

"You are not going to leave it there, are you?" Leo asked quietly.

"No, I'm just taking a breather, that's all," Seth said. "These things are heavier than they look!"

"Anyone ever teach you to hunt?"

"Uh, yeah, Mike taught me bow hunting. Got a few deer, up in the Sierras..."

"Have you ever butchered?"

"Sure, I've--" Seth looked down at the long, narrow, sheathed knife Leo held out, and gingerly took it.

"Out there," Leo pointed down the hall. "You will find a hook and a loop of rope hanging from the ceiling, and a bucket. When you have finished, bring the blood and offal, while the carcass hangs a day or so."

"Uh, okay," Seth said to Leo's retreating back. He stuck the knife in his belt, and reluctantly heaved the goat back onto his shoulders.

Later, as Leo made the stew, Seth read his Bible by the light of the fire.

"Is that Bible all you brought to read?"

"It's the only thing I need to read," Seth said, turning a page.

Leo set the lid on the pot, and sat back on his heels, resting his arms across his knees. "Have you ever read anything else?"

"Sure, I've read plenty of books."

"Such as?"

Seth thoughtfully ran his hand through his short thatch of blue-white hair. "Uhm... most of the classics, like Captains Courageous, The Grapes of Wrath, Huck Finn, Lord of the Rings... that sort of stuff."

"Lord of the Rings? That was one of my childhood favorites. A masterpiece in fantasy," Leo said. "It's fascinating..." He lifted the lid of the pot with a stick to check the contents. "How you seem to favor tales of strife and struggling, with emphasis on the division of the classes."

"Maybe it just coincidence," Seth returned.

"Maybe not." Leo looked at him with eyes a little wider than usual. "Tell you what, Seth. Let's make a deal. You tell me what's on your mind, and I'll tell you what's on mine."

"That may not be a good idea," Seth said cautiously.

"Why not?"

Because it doesn't take much to get you upset, Seth wanted to say.

"I won't get upset," Leo said.

Seth closed his Bible. "I didn't say that you would," he said, feeling his stomach turn over. Please don't say you can read my mind. Otherwise, this is could get real nerve wracking.

"But I sensed it, Seth. You aren't all that difficult to read. The longer you stay with me, the more transparent your head becomes." 

Seth swallowed. "Okay, then maybe it is better if we keep it open, and talk more."

"Then it's a deal?"

"It's a deal," Seth said, as he grasped Leo's outstretched hand. 

Leo's eyes locked onto Seth's a long moment before he let go. He turned his attention back to the hearth, but not before Seth caught an odd little smile.

Time seems to run together, like a box of crayons left in the sun, the color of each day melting in and mixing into one large, puddle of gray, streaked through with the alternating blackness of night.

The bean curd has run out. So has the rice, then the millet, and soon there is nothing left but goat. The goats had been well fed and large, so they lasted longer than expected, which would allow for a shorter fast, at the end, Seth hoped. In spite of the good quality of the meat, I'm getting pretty sick of eating only that and the gallons of herb tea that Leo drinks constantly. Considering my limited options, though, I think I'll keep my complaints to myself. 

The only things that are keeping me from the horrors of boredom-induced cabin fever is my Bible, and prayer. And long talks with Father, as we work side by side in his workshop, or just sit and bask in the heat of the hearth while sipping tea.

Father continues his erratic swings between taciturn and talkative, but he seems his best when he  finishes a new carving. That is when I can relax a bit and even joke with him without worrying that he's going to lapse into one of his teeth grinding fits, and disappear for the rest of the day. In spite of us gradually getting to know each other better over time, where Father goes and what he does when he disappears, is a mystery...

One evening, Leo seemed to be in one of his better moods, which, for Leo, was more of calm, relaxed complacency than abject cheeriness.

Lounging against the stone ledge of the hearth, Leo watched Seth reading by the firelight.

"One can dwell on spiritual things," Leo said, after a long silence. "But does one know why?"

Seth looked up toward the fire to think a moment. "I wouldn't really know," he said at length. "But I believe the book of Ecclesiastes sums it up very well. I believe it's verse thirteen, of the last chapter... 'Now all has been heard, here is the conclusion of the matter; Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.'"

Leo quietly chuckled as he shifted into a more comfortable position, and folded his arms. "'Meaningless! Meaningless!' Says the Teacher. 'Everything is meaningless.' Verse eight, same chapter. Very good, Seth. That was one of my favorite bits of scripture, which I read when I felt that I was taking life-- and myself-- far too seriously."

Seth gazed at him, not knowing what to say in return, but Leo leaned his head back and closed his eyes as though settling for a nap. Seth went back to his reading.

"What book are you in at the moment, may I ask?" Leo broke the silence again.

"Psalms," Seth said.

"In...?"

"Uh, number nineteen."

"Nineteen, oh, yes," Leo echoed, straightening up. "'May the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.' That's the last part of it, isn't it?"

"You never cease to amaze me, Leo," Seth said, holding his place with a forefinger. "Your knowledge of scripture is uncanny."

Leo bit his lower lip as though to conceal a knowing little smile. "Do your thoughts always dwell on such spiritual things? Do tell."

"I would like them to," Seth said, shrugging a little.

"You want them to, but is there not something else that constantly threatens to invade your good intentions?"

Seth lay the ribbon marker across the page he was on, and closed the book. "You're leading up to something, aren't you?"

"Oh, of course. Leading up to things is my specialty." Leo winked mischievously at Seth. "But where? That is the question."

"That was going to be my next question," Seth said, grinning.

Leo matched his grin, then let it fade. "What was going to be your next question?"

"What it is you are leading up to."

Leo chuckled, leaning on an elbow to get closer to Seth. "So straightforward and to the point! There's no getting around you, is there? Clever boy."

"There's no getting around you either," Seth said, warily watching Leo.

"What is it that you think about," Leo asked suddenly, his pale eyes searching Seth's.

"When?"

"Whenever you aren't thinking such lofty, spiritual thoughts."

"Geez, not much, I guess..."

Leo's eyebrows lifted. "You guess?"

"Well, I mean I--"

"Come on now, we made a deal, Seth. You said you'd tell me what's on your mind, and I'd tell you what's on mine. It's called, 'quid pro quo'."

'I know, I know, it's just that..." Seth squirmed. "It's hard to explain in words, that's all."

"May I guess?"

"Go ahead."

Leo relaxed and gazed at Seth with that disturbing little smile of his, eyelids drooping a little, as though to hide any indication as to what emotion he was going to slide into next. "You think about girls."

"Girls! Uh, well- sure. Only..." Seth chewed on his lip a moment.

"Only?" Leo squinted at him.

"It's just that... I wonder if I will ever have... a wife." Seth gave Leo a cautious glance, wondering if he had touched a nerve.

Leo gave no indication that he had. "I see," he said, pulling at his chin thoughtfully. "And from where do you suppose your wife will come?"

"That's what I was wondering."

"Ah," Leo nodded knowingly. "What prospects do you have, out there?"

Seth didn't reply.

"I suppose you have a girlfriend?"

Seth looked up into Leo's pale eyes. "I have... friends, some of whom happen to be girls."

"Ever had sex with any of them?"

"Hey, come on, Leo."

"I'm just curious, Seth."

"Actually, no," Seth said in annoyance. "I'm celibate. Is that okay with you?"

Leo ignored Seth's tart remark. "Haven't you ever fallen in love?"

"Look," Seth said, shifting uncomfortably. "I've answered enough questions. Now YOU owe me a few. That was the deal."

Leo held up his hands in compliance. "All right, go ahead."

"Have YOU ever had sex with anyone?"

"How do you think you came to be?"

"I mean with anybody else," Seth said.

"Never."

"Why not?"

Leo tightened his jaw a little. "I personally don't believe it applies to me."

"Why not?"

"It creates nothing but trouble, Seth. More trouble than its worth."

"What sort of trouble?"

"I'd rather not go into it," Leo said evenly. "Besides, it has nothing to do with me."

"Why not?"

"Because," Leo ground out, "I have never been involved with humans in that manner, and I suggest you do the same, and stop parroting with that 'why not' business, for gods' sake."

"What I really don't understand, Leo," Seth said, as he stood up. "Is why you are so worried about getting into trouble with mere humans, and yet you go and mess around with someone else's wife? How much trouble did you get into for that?"

Leo rested his elbow on the ledge of the hearth, cupping his chin in his hand as he gazed up at Seth. "Do you have any more questions you'd like answered?"

"Yeah. Were you ever in love with my mother?"

"Ehh... for about ten minutes, or so."

"Ten minutes?" Seth spluttered. "That isn't being in love, that-that's-- disgusting!"

"Hmm. Seems your idea of being "in love" is a little different from mine," Leo said mildly. "And that which caused your entrance into this world can hardly be considered disgusting."

"Then why do you tell me to stay away from humans, you big hypocrite? Talk about straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel!"

"Are you finished," Leo asked, suppressing a yawn.

"No," Seth muttered, toeing a crack in the stone floor. "Just tell me, O Wise One, what I'm supposed to do for the rest of my life, if I can't have a human for a mate?"

Leo's eyes went vacant, as though his thoughts were turning inward. "That is a good question," he said softly.

Seth snorted.

"I don't know," Leo said, then suddenly burst into laughter. "I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes. "But it's really quite silly, don't you think? You see, my boy, I'm still not terribly sure of what I'm going to be when I grow up." He stood and firmly took hold of Seth by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. "We have to let go of the past, Seth. Nothing in this life is worth taking seriously."

"My faith is worth taking seriously," Seth said, standing passively in Leo's grip. "'Seek first the Kingdom of God, and all these things will be added unto you as well'. That is the way I see it."

Leo reluctantly released him, and looked thoughtfully into his face for a long time, before turning away to his busywork.

They said nothing more for the rest of the evening.

After their meal the next day, they continued their work in the shop. Leo was back to his usual, quiet self, as he carefully carved the detail in the manes of two Tibetan-style dragons intertwining each other, as they wrestled their way up a pole.

"What inspires you to do this, Leo?" Seth asked, as he watched over Leo's shoulder.

Leo plucked at the loose curls of wood, and blew shavings out of the crevasses in the sculpture. He sighted along the pole, and then slowly straightened, looking satisfied. "Hm?" He looked at Seth as though waking from a deep sleep.

"Why do you work so fervently at these carvings?"

"It releases the demons, Seth," Leo replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "It takes them out of my head and traps them in the wood, and oh, how they fight to be freed again... heh, but I have them where I want them... where I can see them." His calm gave way to mild apprehension as he glanced up at Seth. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you go at it with such energy and devotion, and I have never seen work quite like this. They look so... alive." Seth gingerly touched the wood.

"They are alive, Seth. Only, they are trapped. Like I said, trapped." Leo's eyes glowed as he looked at the other sculptures around the room. "And when the weather abates, they will be sent out to guard this place, be put out as a warning. No... trespassing." He jabbed the short bladed, carving knife deep into the wooden bench for emphasis on the last word.

"Point well taken," Seth said faintly, eyeing the knife.

"I meant the demons, Seth," Leo said softly. "I have nothing against the people. They are all right... as long as they aren't those type of overpaid, overfed Westerners who leave their trash lying about, stealing statues from the temples for souvenirs... pissing into the streams..." He made a noise of disgust, as he yanked the knife out of the bench.

"They'd peel off plenty of bills for these carvings," Seth said.

Leo stopped and gave him a searing look.

"Hey, I was just trying to be helpful. I think your work is the best I've ever seen!"

"Do you?" Leo frowned at the collection of grinning cheppu hanging along the roof beams.

"Yes, I do."

Leo's expression softened as he stared at Seth, then he broke into a prim smile. "Would you be interested in seeing my murals?"

"You do murals?" Seth said in surprise.

"Do you want to see them or not?"

"Yes, I would. Where are they?"

"Upstairs, so bundle up. The roof is gone at the south end, so it's a little raw, but at least it's out of the weather."

"Well, let's go!" Seth buttoned up his parka.

"That's the sort of thing you'd tell a girl, isn't it?" Leo said as they climbed the narrow staircase.

"What?"

"'Would you like to see my murals? They're right upstairs'- or is it- etchings?"

Seth snorted. "I doubt any girl would fall for that line, Leo. That is so passé."

"Whatever. I suppose I wouldn't be very good at that sort of thing," Leo muttered half to himself, as they entered a long narrow hall, dimly lit by the gaping holes in the roof at the far end. The wind rattled the loose timbers, and snow whirled around them as they made their way to a closed door.

Leo motioned for Seth to follow him, as they entered. The room was small, its narrow, recessed windows tightly shuttered against the battering wind. Leo set the oil lamp on a thick log standing on end, so that it bathed the entire room in a golden light.

Seth slowly walked along the wall, wisps of steam curling around his face as he held his breath for a moment.

The colors and shapes took form, and Seth recognized the cheppu and dragons floating among lofty, jagged mountains and whirlwinds of cloud. Sleek horses pranced, manes and tails rippling, and galloped along stretches of tall, waving grass. Birds took wing, and some with long, graceful feathers alighted on lush branches laden with flowers and fruit. Tawny, cat-eyed shepherdesses in black skirts and cloaks, with red tassels braided into their hair, watched over flocks of downy sheep and goats, and a surefooted snow leopard looked down from its rocky perch at herds of tusked deer padding through the conifers, in the background. The style was exquisite, both strong and delicate, of Persian and Japanese influence, and uniquely Leo's.

"This is the Room of Dreams," Leo said quietly.

"Amazing," Seth whispered. "I had no idea you were such an artist."

"Neither did I, until I came here."

"What materials did you use? The colors are so subtle and earthy..."

"Charcoal, chalk, iron oxide, sulfur mixed with tallow."

"Amazing," Seth said again.

"Amazing," Leo echoed, with a faraway look in his eyes. "Want to see any more?"

Seth hissed in mock derision. "Can fish swim? Of course I want to see more!"


The next room was larger, only partially completed. 

"This is based more on reality, it reminds me of things in the past. Called the Room of Conscious Memory," Leo said, stepping aside to let Seth enter first.

"I think I know what you mean," Seth said, walking slowly along the wall to inspect the detail, then stepping back to see it as a whole. "A kind of pattern has developed, here. Fluctuating from..."

"What are you, an art critic?" Leo asked suddenly, in a tone that bordered on sarcastic amusement.

"I was just... observing, Leo, I've always enjoyed art."

"Yes, and I have noticed you draw pretty well, yourself. Good potential, though it seems a bit trapped by the influence of your peer group."

"What makes you think that I'm..." Seth turned his attention on Leo. "You know, the more I get to know you, the more I realize how little of you I understand."

"Must you understand me to love me, Seth?"

"You know that I have always loved you, father."

Leo lowered his eyes a moment, then gazed at Seth. "That much is apparent, considering what you went through to find me, and guarantee your staying here. Not to mention putting up with my foolishness."

"It's just... you aren't the person I thought I knew. I don't think even your own brothers would know you any more."

Leo leaned toward Seth, to search his face. "They never knew me all that well, Seth. They were too wrapped up in the art of self-preservation to spend much energy in trying to figure me out... beyond wondering what my next move was. Beyond looking to me for guidance."

Somehow, Seth knew that Leo was leading up to that point he had been so careful to steer away from, until now.

"No," Leo was saying, "The only one who knew me well was Splinter. He could see through all my 'model student' posturing. He wanted badly to tell me to stop the charade... but I think he knew that I was deep in denial... in spite of my weariness of the scout-leader role I was playing. But it was so ingrained in me, I thought had no options beyond my training, living to exact revenge and survive retaliation until the mission was completed. But when it was over?" He seemed to forget Seth, as he continued his dialogue mostly with himself, settling on his haunches in the middle of the room and resting his head on his forearms.

Seth stared curiously at him a moment, then went on looking at the mural.

There were images of tall buildings, rooftops, subway cars festooned with red graffiti, a skyline at dusk that was unmistakably Manhattan's... the arch at Washington Square, where people in Halloween costumes paraded in their own scattered version of Mardi Gras. A sea of faces in varying shades of tan and brown, a forest of feet passing gratings, a tartan-like pattern of streets from high above, with endless strings of cars, trucks, yellow cabs, busses ... the farther Seth progressed along the wall, the busier it became, as though Leo had been inspired to add more detail as the images brought on more images that inspired more memories and so on.

Then there came blocks of individual scenes, sometimes done in energetic, bold, almost careless strokes, other times in fragile color and delicate lines, with the same sensitivity and detail as the Dream Room. A woman with luxuriant, golden hair and fashionably dark clothing sat at a kitchen table, reading a paper, while getting ready to sip at a steaming mug. A man in a business suit, holding a tan briefcase, looks warily around as he approaches a crosswalk, while nearby, a girl with a backpack, wearing the uniform of some private school, calmly peels an orange into a trash bin, oblivious to the people and traffic hurrying past her.

A red car speeds down a deserted highway, headlights glowing in long streaks against wet tarmac while the twinkling buildings and the black river reflecting a starlit sky pass in a blur... then the drawings ran into sketchy, vague outlines and faded, unfinished.

"You missed it, didn't you?" Seth turned to see Leo had raised his head, and was watching him.
"What?"

"The dead turtle on a stick."

"What??"

Leo got to his feet and gestured toward the opposite wall. "The dead turtle... on a stick. You missed it."

He brought the lamp closer, to better illuminate the drawing, which Seth could see was done with terrifying skill and accuracy in charcoal and white chalk. The absence of color did nothing to lessen the heart-stopping impact and horror of the scene, of a familiar looking, turtle-humanoid figure that hung, cruelly bound by its wrists, to a scaffolding. Its face was tilted back, teeth gnashing in its last throes of agony, partially hidden in the shadow of its arms that twisted over its head in an unnatural angle. Brambles wound themselves in a complex strangle-hold around the figure's neck and legs, the long, sharp thorns piercing the flesh so that the blackened blood ran down its warped body, soaking the ground in huge, lightless holes, riddled with pale, fingerlike roots and the skeletons of a myriad of tiny creatures...

Seth turned away, swallowing hard against the bile rising in his throat.

"What's the matter, Seth? A true artist never averts his eyes."

"Why did you draw... this?"

"It drew itself," Leo said defensively. "It had to come out some time, and finally, it did. Then I left it alone. It's been living in this head long enough."

"That's some memory... or was it a nightmare," Seth breathed, stealing another glance at the drawing.

"Nightmares are in the next room, Seth. This was only a self portrait."

Seth rubbed absently at the knot in his stomach. "What happened?"

"What happened... what happened," Leo muttered, giving the top of his head a nervous scratch. "What did not happen? That would be easier to define. What did not get broken?"

"I don't quite follow you."

Leo's jaws clenched, and Seth drew back a little. They locked eyes, each a different shade of pale, unblinking, until Leo lowered his head and groaned softly, his fingers absently clawing at his eyelids, as though warding off some terrifying vision. "Leonardo... went off one snowy December evening, and faced the enemy alone, never to return," he said from under his hands.

"Return... to what," Seth asked when Leo stopped speaking.

"To where I was before, Seth," Leo said in annoyance. "How do I explain this to you? You weren't there. Everyone else was, they witnessed my defeat. I never had to discuss it with them, Seth. They found me, and thought I was dead. And when they found I wasn't, they expected me to die. Then when they found I was not going to die, they let it go, and put it conveniently behind them. I tell you, it hurt more to stay alive and face my own stupidity than it would have been to die. It's not the same anymore... not the same..." Leo fell silent for a moment, as he gazed up at the drawing. Then he turned away with a sigh. "The dead turtle on a stick. One of Raphael's little jokes, which he used when he felt safe enough to needle me again. I welcomed it to his silent sympathy."

Seth curled his lip a little, more out of weariness than disgust.

"I take it you don't want to see the nightmares?" Leo asked gently.

Seth slowly shook his head, and headed toward the stairs.

"Seth, I'm sorry," Leo said, as they sat warming by the hearth. "It was an impulsive, insensitive thing for me to do."

"It's the truth, though, isn't it?"

Leo's hand rested on Seth's shoulder, giving it a warm squeeze. "Yes, it's the truth. But I could have tried a different approach. You are still a child."

"No, I'm not!"

"Seth," Leo shook his head as he looked down at his feet. "Please, don't try to grow up so fast... life is far too precarious, the moments of innocence are fleeting, and once lost, are lost forever."

"Yes. Then again," Seth sighed. "Innocence is replaced by enlightenment... and knowledge."

"Ah. Well said," Leo sighed, as he reached for his bowl of tea.

Seth 03