The Traveler

25

Vicki Fraser watched Hollis and Gabriel grab the motorcycle and lift it into the back of the van. “You drive,” Hollis said as he tossed the keys to Vicki. He and Gabriel crouched beside the motorcycle while Maya remained in the front passenger seat with the shotgun on her lap.

They turned west and got lost on the narrow residential streets that cut through the Hollywood hills. Gabriel kept asking Maya questions about his family’s background; he seemed desperate to find out everything as quickly as possible.

Vicki knew only a few facts about the Travelers and the Harlequins, and she listened carefully to the conversation. The ability to cross over into other realms seemed to be genetic, inherited from a parent or a relative, but occasionally new Travelers appeared without a family connection. Harlequins keep elaborate lineages of past Travelers and this was how Thorn had known about Gabriel’s father.

Hollis lived a few blocks away from his storefront capoeira school. The single-family homes in the area had front yards and flower beds, but gang graffiti was spray-painted with dripping lines on the walls and billboards. When they turned off Florence Avenue, Hollis told Maya to move to the back of the van. Sitting up front, he instructed Vicki to slow down whenever they saw groups of young men wearing extra-large clothes and blue bandannas. Each time they stopped beside these gang members, Hollis would shake hands with the young men and use their street names.

“Some people might come around and ask about me,” he told them. “Tell ’em they’re in the wrong neighborhood.”

The driveway of Hollis’s two-bedroom house was blocked by a chain-link gate woven with plastic strips. Once they drove the van down the driveway and closed the gate, the vehicle was concealed from the street. Hollis unlocked the back door and they went into the house. Each room was clean and uncluttered, and Vicki didn’t see any signs of a girlfriend. The curtains were made out of bedsheets, oranges were stored in a clean automobile hubcap, and one bedroom had been filled with barbells and turned into a gym.

Vicki sat down at the kitchen table with Gabriel and Maya. Hollis took an assault rifle out of a broom closet, snapped in an ammunition clip, and placed the weapon on the counter. “We’ll be safe here,” he said. “If someone attacks the house, I’ll keep them busy. You jump over the wall to my neighbor’s backyard.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t want anyone to risk their life for me.”

“I’m getting paid for this,” Hollis said. “Maya is the one who’s doing it for free.”

Everyone watched as Hollis filled up a kettle and boiled water for tea. He opened the refrigerator and took out bread, cheese, strawberries, and two ripe mangos. “Is everybody hungry?” he asked. “I think I’ve got enough food.”

Vicki decided to make a fruit salad while Hollis made grilled-cheese sandwiches. She liked standing at the counter and slicing up the strawberries. It was uncomfortable to sit next to Maya. The Harlequin looked exhausted, but she couldn’t seem to relax. Vicki thought that it would be painful to go through life always being ready to kill, always expecting to be attacked. She remembered the letter that Isaac T. Jones had written to his congregation about Hell. There was a real Hell, of course. The Prophet had seen it with his own eyes. But my brothers and sisters, your main concern should be the Hell you create within your own hearts.

“You told me a few things about the Travelers when we were in the van,” Gabriel said to Maya. “But what about the rest of it? Tell me about the Harlequins.”

Maya adjusted the cord on her sword’s carrying case. “Harlequins protect Travelers. That’s all you need to know.”

“Are there leaders and rules? Did someone order you to come to America?”

“No. It was my own decision.”

“But why didn’t your father come with you?”

Maya’s eyes were focused on the salt shaker in the middle of the table. “My father was killed a week ago in Prague.”

“The Tabula did it?” Hollis asked.

“Correct.”

“What happened?”

“That’s not your concern.” Maya’s voice was controlled, but her body was almost rigid with anger. Vicki felt like the Harlequin was ready to jump up and destroy all of them. “I’ve accepted an obligation to protect Gabriel and his brother. When that’s done, I’m going to hunt down the man who killed my father.”

“Did Michael and I have anything to do with this?” Gabriel asked.

“Not really. The Tabula have been hunting my father for most of his life. He was almost killed two years ago in Pakistan.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t waste your emotions,” Maya said. “We feel nothing for the rest of the world and expect nothing in return. When I was a child, my father used to tell me: Verdammt durch das Fleisch. Gerettet durch das Blut. It means: Damned by the flesh. Saved by the blood. Harlequins are condemned to fight a battle without end. But maybe the Travelers will save us from Hell.”

“And how long have they been fighting this battle?” Hollis asked.

Maya pushed the hair away from her face. “My father said that we are an unbroken line of warriors that has lasted for thousands of years. On Passover, he would light candles and read from chapter eighteen in the book of John. After Jesus spends the night in the garden at Gethsemane, Judas shows up with Roman soldiers and officers sent by the chief priest.”

“I know that passage in the Bible,” Hollis said. “Actually, it’s kind of a strange detail. Jesus is supposed to be the Prince of Peace. Throughout the New Testament, no one has ever mentioned weapons or bodyguards, but suddenly one of the disciples-”

“It’s Peter,” Vicki said.

“Right. Now I remember. Anyway, Peter draws a sword and cuts off the ear of the high priest’s servant, a man named…”

This time Hollis glanced at Vicki, knowing that she would have the answer.

“Malchus.”

“Right again.” Hollis nodded. “So the bad guy is standing there in the garden with only one ear.”

“Some scholars feel that Peter was a member of the Zealots,” Maya said. “But my father believed that he was the first Harlequin to be mentioned in a historical document.”

“Are you telling us that Jesus was a Traveler?” Vicki asked.

“Harlequins are fighters, not theologians. We don’t make pronouncements about which Traveler is the true embodiment of the Light. The most important Traveler could be Jesus or Muhammad or the Buddha. Or it could be an obscure Hasidic rabbi who was killed in the Holocaust. We defend Travelers, but we don’t judge their holiness. That’s up to the faithful.”

“But your father quoted from the Bible,” Gabriel said.

“I come from the European branch of Harlequins and we have close ties with Christianity. In fact, some Harlequins read farther in the book of John. After Jesus was taken away, Peter-”

“-backed out on Jesus.” Hollis turned away from the stove. “He was a disciple, but he denied his Lord three times.”

“The legend is that Harlequins are damned by this. Because Peter didn’t stay loyal at that moment, we must defend the Travelers until the end of time.”

“Sounds like you don’t buy that,” Hollis said.

“It’s just a story in the Bible. I don’t accept it for myself, but I do believe that there is a secret history of the world. There have always been warriors defending pilgrims or other spiritual seekers. During the Crusades, a group of Christian knights began to protect the pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land. Baldwin II, the crusader king of Jerusalem, let these knights occupy part of the former Jewish temple. They began to call themselves the Poor Knights of Christ and Knights of the Temple of Solomon.”

“Weren’t they usually called the Templars?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes, that’s the common name. The Templars became a rich, powerful order that controlled churches and castles throughout Europe. They owned ships and would lend money to European kings. Eventually the Templars stopped occupying the Holy Land and started to defend people who made spiritual journeys. They developed connections with heretical groups, the Bogomils in Bulgaria and the Cathars in France. These people were Gnostics who believed that the soul is trapped within the body. Only individuals given a secret knowledge are able to escape this prison and enter into different realms.”

“Then the Templars were destroyed,” Gabriel said.

Maya nodded slowly, as if reminding herself of a story she had learned long ago. “King Philip of France feared their power and wanted to seize their treasury. In 1307, he sent his troops into the Templar headquarters and arrested them for heresy. The grand master of the Templars was burned at the stake and the order ceased to exist-publicly. But only a few Templars were killed. Most of them went underground and continued their activities.”

“Lunchtime,” Hollis said. He set a plate of sandwiches on the table and Vicki finished making the fruit salad. Everyone sat down and began eating. Maya had relaxed slightly, but it was still an uncomfortable atmosphere. The Harlequin stared at Gabriel as if she was trying to decide if he had the power to cross over. Gabriel seemed to know what she was thinking. He looked down at his plate and picked at his food.

“But why are you called Harlequins?” Hollis asked Maya. “Isn’t that some kind of actor with a painted face, like a clown?”

“We took that name in the seventeenth century. The Harlequin is one of the characters in Italian commedia dell’arte, usually a clever servant. The Harlequin character wears a costume with diamond shapes. Sometimes he plays the lute or carries a wooden sword. The Harlequin always wears a mask, concealing his identity.”

“But that’s an Italian name,” Hollis said. “I was told that Harlequins used to be in Japan and Persia and just about every other place in the world.”

“In the seventeenth century, the European Harlequins began to contact warriors from other cultures who were also defending Travelers. Our first alliance was with the Sikhs living in the Punjab. Like the Harlequins, devout Sikhs carry a ritual sword called a kirpan. Around the same time, we also made alliances with Buddhist and Sufi warriors. In the eighteenth century, we were joined by an order of Jewish fighters in Russia and Eastern Europe that defended rabbis who studied the Kabbalah.”

Vicki turned to Gabriel. “Lion of the Temple, the Harlequin who defended the Prophet, came from a Jewish family.”

Hollis looked amused. “You know, I’ve been in that town in Arkansas where they lynched Isaac Jones. Thirty years ago, the NAACP and some Jewish group got together and put up a plaque in honor of Zachary Goldman. They make it like a peace-and-love brotherhood thing because this Harlequin killed two racist bastards with a crowbar.”

“Was there ever a Harlequin gathering?” Gabriel asked. “Did the different groups ever meet in one room?”

“That would never happen. Harlequins respect the randomness of battle. We don’t like rules. Harlequin families are connected to each other by marriage, tradition, and friendship. Some families have been allies for hundreds of years. We don’t have elected leaders or a constitution. There’s just a Harlequin way of looking at the world. Some Harlequins fight because it’s our destiny. Some of us fight to defend freedom. I’m not talking about the opportunity to buy fourteen different kinds of toothpaste or the insanity that drives a terrorist to blow up a bus. True freedom is tolerant. It gives people the right to live and think in new ways.”

“I still want to know about ‘Damned by the flesh, saved by the blood,’” Hollis said. “Whose blood are you talking about? The Tabula, the Harlequins, or the Travelers?”

“Take your pick,” Maya said. “Maybe it’s everyone.”

THERE WAS ONLY one bedroom in the house. Hollis proposed that the two women share the bed while he and Gabriel sleep in the living room. Vicki could tell that Maya didn’t like the idea. Now that she had found Gabriel, she seemed uncomfortable when he wasn’t in her sight.

“It’ll be okay,” Vicki whispered. “Gabriel is only a few feet away. We can leave the door open if you want. Besides, Hollis has the rifle.”

“Hollis is a mercenary. I don’t know how much he’s willing to sacrifice.”

Maya walked several times from the living room to the bedroom as if she was memorizing the position of the doorways and walls. Then she went into the bedroom and slid the blades of her two knives between the box spring and the mattress. Both handles were sticking out. If she dropped her hand down, she could instantly pull a knife from its sheath. Finally she got into bed, and Vicki lay on the other side of the mattress.

“Good night,” Vicki said, but Maya didn’t answer her.

Vicki had slept with her older sister and various cousins during vacations and was used to their restless movements. Maya was different in every way. The Harlequin lay flat on her back with her hands clenched into fists. It looked as if an immense weight was pushing down on her body.