Chapter 3 – The Calling Place

A terrible feeling of panic set in, and Jake’s breaths came in short gasps. Dead! He should never have sneaked out through the window! And he never even got a chance to say goodbye to Mom and Dad. Somehow, the bad things, the fighting and the mind-changing and the broken promises didn’t seem to matter anymore, and all he wanted to do was hug them and never sneak off again. Tears broke across his eyelids, and Ursus became a brown, hazy blotch. Dead! Nine years old, Dead! And what was worse, he got stuck in the wrong Heaven!

“So am I really dead?” Jake said, his voice quavering.

“You are here,” said Ursus. “That is what I know.”

“What if I’m in the wrong place?”

Ursus picked up a trail, and began to wander off again. Jake followed him.

“Really!” Jake said. “What if I got put in the wrong place? What am I going to do…” his voice trailed off. Tears dripped off the edges of his jaw, completely forgotten. Knowledge had burst into his brain, like the dawn.

Wolfie was here.

“Ursus! Wait!” Jake dashed ahead of the dog, stopping in front of him. Despite his excitement, Jake still found himself amazed at Ursus’s size. Jake was no shorty; in fact, he was the second tallest kid in his class. He stood nose-to-nose with Ursus, trembling with excitement.

Ursus turned away.

“I won’t fight you,” Ursus said.

“What?” said Jake, confused.

“I won’t fight you. I don’t know why you wish to fight. I do not challenge you. I am no threat.”

“ Fight? Who said anything about fighting? I just figured out why I’m here. I’m here for Wolfie. He’s a dog, like you, only not so big. Dad named him. I used to think it was a stupid name, because dogs and wolves are basically the same, but then I found out Dad didn’t name him after a wolf, he named him after this guy Mozart, who used to write music a long time ago. Wolfie’s my best friend, and I think I’m supposed to find him, and then I can go to the right place. Can you take me to that Calling Place?

Ursus sad down on his haunches and looked intently at a nearby tree, never locking eyes with Jake.

“You don’t wish to fight?”

“No!” said Jake. “I don’t even know what got that into your head.”

“You are a Giver,” said Ursus. “I have not been among any Givers in a long time. Givers don’t know about challenging. You looked into my eyes. That is an offer to fight. I don’t wish to fight.”

“I won’t offer to fight you again, I promise,” said Jake.

Ursus rose on all fours again. He walked past Jake, and began to trot.

“I will take you to the Calling Place,” he said. “Follow me.”

Jake followed Ursus at a fast trot through the forest. Jake found that he could run as long as he wanted; the air, fresh and cool, seemed to sustain him. Intense joy coursed through him as he wove a path through thick, gnarled oaks and tall maples, their bright green canopies waving in the breeze. Without realizing it, Jake had gone from a trot to a run, as he tried to keep up with Ursus’s long, loping gait.

The forest was one of the most magnificent things Jake had ever laid eyes on. He was no stranger to the woods, but he had never seen woods like this. Every single tree must have been a thousand years old, and not a single tree was cut down, not a single tree was dead. It coursed with a life that Jake could feel every time his foot sank into the soft moss that covered the ground.

“How far does this forest go?” Jake asked.

“There are many dogs here,” said Ursus. “Many packs. There is room for all of them. There is also the great Grassland where the cats and horses run. Some tell tales at the howl of other animals in the grassland as well. But I have never seen them.”

They ran in silence for a time, and the great forest slid by, constantly changing in undiminished beauty. The longer Jake ran, the less he wanted to leave this place. A part of him wanted to stop running, and climb into the branches of one of the old oak trees, as high as he could, until he was above the leafy crown. He wanted to look out over an ocean of green that stretched forever. But he also wanted to find Wolfie, and so he followed the giant dog, wondering what he would say to his friend when he saw him again.

What would Wolfie say to him? Anywhere else, the question wouldn’t make any sense. But here, dogs could talk. At least, Ursus could, so it made sense that other dogs would be able to talk as well. What would Wolfie say? Jake wondered whether his friend would even remember him. The question nagged at him as he and Ursus wound their way among the ancient trunks. Would Wolfie be glad to see him? What if Wolfie like his new dog-friends better than he liked Jake? It wouldn’t be a surprise if that was what happened; Jake could understand why someone wouldn’t want to leave a forest as amazing as this one was.

“Over there, beyond those trees is the Calling Place,” said Ursus. He stopped, turned around twice, scratched a small trench in thick mat of fallen leaves, and then laid down.

“Aren’t you going to come with me?” Jake asked.

“You must go. I must stay,” said Ursus.

Just ahead lay an opening in the trees. Warm sunlight poured across a field of tall grass, rippling in the breeze like waves on an ocean of green, gradually sloping downhill until the rest of the field was lost from view. Jake paused, his stomach tight. For a brief second, Jake thought about Heaven, and how all the church people had gotten it wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be nervous in Heaven!

Ursus lay among the fallen leaves, his enormous head nestled between his paws. Jake turned toward the meadow, and then stopped, embarrassed at himself.

He hadn’t thanked Ursus. Not for pulling him out of the river, not for leading him to the Calling Place. What was worse, he never thanked Wolfie. Every walk, every game of catch, every tear-sodden shoulder offered when Mom and Dad fought in the other room when they thought Jake wasn’t listening. Wolfie had been there, and Jake never once thanked him. He had never even thought about it.

Jake sat down next to Ursus, and brushed his hand across the dog’s muscular shoulder.

“Thank you, Ursus,” he said. “Never would have found this place if it wasn’t for you. I don’t even know where I would have ended up if you hadn’t pulled me out of that river.”

“It is good to help a Giver,” Ursus said.

“Hey, when Wolfie comes and I go to People Heaven, I’ll find your person and tell him to come get you. What was his name?”

Ursus did not answer.

“Come on. I’ll tell him that you’re over here waiting for him. He’ll be so glad to see you! I know if you were my dog, You’re the first person I would want to come find.”

Ursus turned away and lay down on his side. “Go now and call. Call, and go to the place where you can run free. I will stay here.”

Jake was puzzled, but he didn’t press the dog further. He got up and headed toward the meadow. He walked slowly at first, looking back every few steps to see if Ursus had moved, but there he stayed, lying on his side, apparently unconcerned about what Jake did.

Jake emerged from the forest and looked down upon a great bowl-shaped valley, encircled by a vast expanse of ancient trees. The sliver of meadow he had seen from the forest was beautiful, but it didn’t prepare him for what he saw once he passed the tree line. Grass tall enough to get lost in covered the valley floor, extending in luminous ripples all the way to the deep brown of the tree trunks that surrounded the valley’s edge. Here and there, flowers dotted the meadow, floating among the green, dancing against the waving grass like schools of playful fish. In the center of the valley sat a mound, its rocky face the only feature distinguishing it from the rest of the grass. In the center of the mound was a dark spot, too dark to be rock, but it was so far away that Jake could only guess what it was.

He waded into the petal-soft, and fragrant grass. Behind him, the great forest seemed to melt into a deep, impenetrable green, but somehow, Jake wasn’t concerned. The valley’s slope was gentle, but easily noticeable; as long as he continued downhill, he was certain to find the mound. There was no question in his mind that the mound was the Calling Place; there didn’t seem to be anywhere else in the valley that might qualify.

The scent of grass permeated the air as Jake made his way deeper into the meadow. His excitement grew with every step. Wolfie was somewhere in the forest, just waiting for him to call. He thought of the nights just after Dad came home from the vet alone, and how he had asked God for one more chance to see Wolfie. At church they always said that God had his own ways of answering prayers, but Jake hadn’t given it much thought until now. Mom and Dad would probably be angry if they knew God had let him drown just to answer a prayer about a dog. That, at least, was something Jake wouldn’t have to worry about answering for. Hopefully, Mom and Dad would find him once he got to the right Heaven, and they’d probably be happy to see him, since they probably wouldn’t have anything to fight about once they died.

A dog barked somewhere nearby. Jake paused, trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound, but the bark echoed through the valley, making any attempt to find its direction futile at best. If there were dogs barking, it meant that he must be getting close to the calling-place, and so he set off at a run, the grass whipping past his ears and through his toes. There was another bark, and then another, and Jake could scarcely contain his excitement.

“Wolfie! Come here! Wolfie!” he shouted, dashing has fast as he could into the valley. Gradually, the slope diminished until he found himself running across flat ground. The grass began to recede, growing shorter and shorter until the mound burst into view. It was much larger than it had been at the rim of the valley, rising more than fifty feet from the valley floor. He was still a fair distance away from it, but it seemed to grow larger with every step. The dark blotch he had noticed grew larger as well, until Jake was absolutely certain what it was.

It was a cave.

So Dog Heaven was connected to Regular Heaven by a tunnel! Jake smiled. Only an awesome God could come up with an idea like that.

The mound towered over him as he grew closer and closer to its base. All around him echoed the joyous barking of dogs. He looked this way and that, but he saw nothing but the green rush of grass and the colored blur of wildflowers. The cave loomed ahead, and Jake’s run became a sprint. He was so close he could almost see into the cave’s mouth.

And it looked like something was moving inside. The shadow became a blur, and then a pale figure emerged.

A man!

Jake stopped. The man seemed to be looking right at him. Jake waved his arms over his head.

“Hey! I’m Jake! My dog’s Wolfie! What’s your dog’s name?” he shouted.

The man was still too far away to make out any features, but the shape was unmistakably human. Jake began to run again, shouting as he went. Though looking squarely in Jake’s direction, the pale figure made no indication that Jake was there. He seemed to be looking past Jake, through Jake, for something else.

Jake’s run slowed again, and finally, he stopped. The mouth of the cave seemed no closer, and the man no clearer than he was before, when he was farther away. A feeling of dread crept into Jake’s stomach and stayed there, filling his center with ice.

“Hey!” Jake cried again.

The pale figure raised his arms, and then stretched them out wide. A wave of relief flooded through Jake, and he waved his arms in return.

“I thought you couldn’t see me!” Jake shouted. “My name is Jake Philips. I must have drowned in the river, and somehow I ended up in the wrong Heaven. Do you know the way back?”

The man didn’t answer.

“Hey!”

A dog barked, so close that Jake spun around.

“Wolfie?”

A dog, small at first, appeared out of the tall grass, growing larger as it dashed closer. It seemed pale, as if it were made of glass, but its coat steamed and rippled as it ran, full speed, toward the cave mouth. Jake’s eyes widened.

It was Wolfie! It had to be him. He was still far away, but Jake recognized the run. It had to be him!

“Wolfie!” Jake cried, dropping to one knee.

The dog ran through him.

Jake looked down at his body, half-expecting to see a gaping hole where the dog had gone through, but there was nothing but his own sweatshirt and jeans. Another bark make him spin around again, just in time to see the dog leap into the air and land in the man’s arms. They embraced. Even from afar, Jake knew that the man’s face was probably covered in dog drool from all the licking, and if the man was anything like him, he’d love every second of it.

“Hey! Wait!” Cried Jake. Neither the man nor his dog took any notice of him. The dog, now back on the ground, ran circles around the man, leaping and barking as he went. Tears welled in Jake’s eyes as the two turned and vanished into the mouth of the cave, the dog’s happy barks echoing across the valley. Before Jake could cry out again, the man and his dog disappeared from sight.

Sobbing, Jake leaped to his feet and ran as fast as he could toward the mouth of the cave. He’d find his answers inside, he was sure, and then he could come back and get Wolfie and everything would be fine. If People Heaven was anything like Dog Heaven, Jake knew he’d be happy there, and once he had Wolfie and Mom and Dad, things would be perfect. Maybe drowning in that river was the best thing to ever happen to him.

He wanted to believe, as his legs pumped and the air rushed in and out of his lungs. He wanted badly to believe, but as the cave loomed closer and closer, he knew it wasn’t going to be.

The cave was a mirage.

Instead of the mouth of a giant cave, he found a smooth piece of rock, polished like marble, embedded into the gray-brown rock of the mound. Utterly dejected, Jake wandered around the bottom of the mound searching frantically for some kind of opening, some proof that what he had seen had actually occurred. He found nothing but a pile of boulders, overgrown with ivy and wildflowers, while the wind blew cruelly across its face, whistling a little between the rocks.

Jake fell to his knees. He had never felt so terribly alone.

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