A Limbo Tale

“I think I’ll stop here, Friend,” I said with tired Legs and weary Head, the first words spoken in many miles.

Friend slowed and pointed onward into the dunes of worn-down sand. “You can’t stop now, Anon. If You stop walking now, You’ll never get Anywhere.”

“Maybe so,” I said, beginning my long sit in the silt. “But I don’t know.”

“What don’t You know?” Friend said impatiently, still taking small steps away from me, too driven to stop.

“Well, how could I know? I can’t do any knowing if I’m always walking.”

“But what is it You need to know?” Their voice became smaller as it travelled farther over the grains.

“I don’t know,” I said simply.

“Hmph,” Friend said rudely, realizing they were to be alone in their wordless trek from then on. “Well, You can sit there and stay not knowing!” Friend shouted over the growing distance, “I’m going on to Find Out!”

“And I will sit here and Figure Out,” I said to myself, knowing Friend wouldn’t listen whether they heard or not. I took a last long look at them as they disappeared behind the dune horizon. Their gait was admirably undaunted by the exhaustion I know they should have felt.

But figure out what? I thought. First, I thought, I should figure out how to get a good rest.

We haven’t seen much at all in a long while — nothing that looked made for us to rest upon.

I sat on the ground with Legs crossed and breathed aimlessly for a minute. For a minute, there was nothing in Head at all, save for the sand in the Wind I inhaled.

Body told me to lean back, so Hands stretched forth behind me and supported my lean. Fingers wriggled their way into the grey dust — it was soft, they said.

Eyes were drawn up to the sky, hoping to see stars. It was a shame to see none, but that’s how it always was: Grey up and down.

I compromised with Body: lean forward, not back. It’s still a lean, I said.

That’ll do, said Body. But why? Body asked.

I want to play with the sand, said Fingers. Hands agreed.

Silly Hands, said Arms, obliging and putting Hands into the sand.

Fingers frolicked unfettered in the fine grains, making little channels and dunes in the dust. Wind carried the surfaces of the silly slopes away, just as it did with the Finding-Out slopes.

I’ve got an Idea, Hands and Fingers, said Wrists.

Yeah, Wrists? Asked Hands excitedly.

I want to play, too, said Wrists, but we should all play together. Arms, too.

How’s that go? Asked Fingers.

Like this, Wrists said readily, guiding Hands and Fingers through the sand as Arms suspended them all above their playground.

I found myself swirling arcs and circles in the silt, thinking, What fun this is! The sand does whatever I want . . .

I’m tired, said Spine after some time. So, I leaned back as I had before.

No, not like that, said Spine.

“I’m sorry Spine,” I said. “It must be Head’s fault,” I said, having Hands feel the aching point at which Spine and Head met.

It’s alright, said Spine. It’s only because there’s something in Head.

“Oh, well, let me get that out for You, Spine. What’s the big Idea, Head?”

Ask Hands, said Head.

Hands had a great Idea. I stood up on stiff Legs, deciding to stay on Knees instead, and Hands pushed together a big pile of sand.

Body laid Spine and Head down on the side of the pile, and Legs shoveled together a little mound for them to rest on. They learn quick, those Legs. Body wriggled its contours into the shifting silty sand.

“This really is quite soft,” I said to Myself. I guess I figured out how to get that rest, I thought, letting Eyes close up for the first long time in a while.

Ears woke me up. Someone’s coming, they said.

I stirred and sat up from my mound. I looked around.

“Hey there, Someone!” I shouted when I saw them.

They were walking with the same steady gait as every Wanderer. They looked tired, though.

“What are You doing just sitting there, Anon?” Someone said when they were close enough that they didn’t need to holler.

“Oh, You know, going Nowhere,” I said, smiling for some reason.

“’Nowhere’?” Someone said. “Where’s Nowhere?” They asked.

“Right here, I guess. Where are You trying to go?” I asked.

“Somewhere,” Someone said, “Or Anywhere.”

“Oh, I don’t like Anywhere. Everywhere is better, but I haven’t been there yet.”

“Do You want to go Everywhere with Me?” Someone said, smiling for some reason.

“Maybe,” I said, “But I’m liking Nowhere for now. Nowhere has nice people.”

“But I’ve been walking for so long,” Someone said wearily, getting very close and about to pass Me. “I thought I’d end up Somewhere. I should keep walking.”

“Wait a second, Someone,” I said before they could walk off, “Think of all the walking You’ve done. It’s — “

Someone finally stopped, just a few steps away. “’Think’?” They repeated. “What’s that?”

“Let your Head Listen to your Legs,” I said.

Someone frowned, but that just let Me know Someone was Listening.

“What are your Legs saying, Someone?”

“They are saying they are tired,” Someone said.

“It’s probably no surprise,” I started, “Just Think of all the walking You’ve done. And where’s it led You to? Nowhere.”

“But do You Think if I kept walking, I might end up Somewhere?” Someone asked.

“Maybe,” I said. “Do You know where Somewhere is?”

“It’s . . . somewhere.” Someone looked down at the mound I made. “Is that comfortable?”

“Sure is,” I said. “You should make one, too, and then We can go Nowhere together.”

“Make one? I don’t know how,” said Someone.

“I’ll show You, and then You’ll know,” I said, standing up and piling together another pair of uneven mounds next to mine, then sitting back down.

Someone laid on the mound next to me and groaned for the release of discomfort. “You know,” they said after a moment, “I thought I would belong Somewhere, but I could never Find Somewhere.”

“I’ve recently Figured out that I belong Nowhere,” I said.

“How’d You do that?” said Someone.

“I did some Listening. And some Thinking.”

“Who’d You Listen to?” Someone said.

“Myself,” I said.

“What’d that make You Think?” Someone asked.

“I was tired. It made me lose my Friend.”

“Oh,” Someone said sadly, “A Friend is a terrible thing to lose.”

“They are the one who is lost, trying to Find Out.”

“At least they are going Somewhere,” Someone said.

“They are going Nowhere. I am already here, and now I’ve met Someone.”

Someone smiled, “Then this isn’t Nowhere anymore. Now it’s Here.”

I smiled, “I’m Now Here with You.”

“Here is good,” Someone said, “Now is good, too. Now Here is good.”

“Come to think of it,” I said suddenly, “What is all This?”

“All this What?”

“All This sand, these dunes and valleys. Where does the wind come from and where does it go to? How many people are Wandering here?”

“I don’t know where it all came from,” Someone said, “But I know I’ve seen many Wanderers besides Myself. Sometimes We walk together for a time, but then they always Wander somewhere else. I Wonder where they are going . . .”

“Do You ever see footprints?”

Someone frowned. “No, I never have.”

I looked around, “I don’t see mine or yours either.”

“Then there’s nothing of yours, and nothing of mine, so it’s only You and Me,” said Someone.

“There is nothing here to have. There is only sand. And even if I shape the sand into a mound, one for You and one for Me, We could both switch mounds and call them our own, so they were never ours to begin with.”

“But if You made the mounds, aren’t they yours?” Someone asked.

“No,” I said, “I suppose they belong to the Sand, and the Sand cannot be had.”

“But what if my Hand grasps the Sand,” and Someone took a fistful of sand, “I now have the Sand.”

“No,” I said, “Look at the Sand. It is leaving You. It can be borrowed, but it cannot be had.”

The Sand slipped away between Someone’s fingers and was carried by Wind until Wind could borrow no longer.

“Soon, then,” Someone said, “The Sand We borrowed for our mounds will be returned by the Wind. What will We do then?”

“I suppose We will return the Sand into mounds, or We will return to Wandering.”

“Which do You think We will do?” Someone asked.

“I think,” I said, pausing, “I will continue to look at You. The Sand, for all I know, could exist Here only to hold You up where I can see You.”

Someone blushed, “Anon, please.”

“I’m sorry, Someone, but You will need to continue blushing, for I am afraid You may only be Here to add color to the Land with your Face.”

“And what are You Here for, Anon?”

“To Give thanks to Artist for adding such color.”

“It was your Words that added such color,” Someone said, “So that would make You Artist.”

I couldn’t think of Words for a moment.

Then I said, “You know, now that I’ve had time to consider it, I think I would like to go Everywhere with You.”

“Hmm, not yet, Anon, but soon. I’m having too good of a time just being Here Now with You. But first,” said Someone, getting to their feet and pushing over all the sand of her mound so it melded with mine, then laying in it once again. “That’s better,” they said.

Body felt Someone’s Body touching it. Hand had an Idea.

We held Hands and looked up into the grey sky, waiting for stars to come out.

Stars never came, but Sleep did.

“Anon! . . . Anon, is that You?”

I stirred and saw Friend approaching from a direction different from the one they had gone from.

“Who is that, Anon?” Someone said sleepily.

“That’s my Friend,” I said happily, “The Friend I lost.” I stood and waved, “Hello, Friend!”

I noticed that Friend’s gait was not so undaunted as it used to be. They walked toward Me slower than they had walked away from Me.

“How did You get so far ahead of Me, Anon?” Friend said when they got near.

“Ahead?” I said, incredulous, “I have not moved since You left.”

“Not moved?” said Friend, incredulous. “Who is that?” They asked, pointing to the sitting Someone.

“Maybe You have been going in circles, Friend,” I said. “This is Someone. They came along and decided to stay. I implore You to consider staying Here with Us.”

“No No,” Friend said. “I have to keep going.”

“Where shall You go, Friend?” I said to their Back as they continued on as before.

“To the edge of the Land, if I must,” they replied.

“But what if there is no edge?”

“Nonsense. Every Land has an edge. If I just keep going straight, I’ll get there.”

“To Where has your straight line brought You, Friend? Think about it! It has brought You back to Me, to Here! Perhaps there is no straight and there is no edge!”

Friend finally stopped. I saw them crane their Neck up to the sky and watch for a few seconds. Dismayed, they dropped their Head and returned to where Someone and I waited.

“I just cannot, Anon,” Friend said solemnly. “I cannot stand this place any longer. There is Nothing. It makes Me Nothing to be a part of it.”

“Maybe so,” I said. “But We are Something. Obviously, there is Nothing to Find Here. Nothing but Us. Perhaps that is what We are meant to Find.”

“But what is the point?” Friend said hopelessly. “Why Find each other if there is nothing to do with each other?”

Someone finally spoke up, “I’ve Learned the point is to Ask Questions like that one. Through Ourselves and Each Other, We Learn.”

Friend sighed doubtfully. “What is it You would have me Learn?”

“Only what You desire to Learn, Friend,” Someone said.

Friend craned his Neck up again and squinted. “I want to Learn why We cannot see the stars. Why does the sky never change color?”

I smiled with pride for Friend. “Perhaps We are too low. Perhaps the grey only goes so far up, and if We were high enough, We could see beyond it.”

“But how could We ever get up so high beyond the sky?” Friend shook their Head.

“Bigger mounds?” Someone suggested.

Friend looked and saw our mounds and frowned.

“Trust Me,” I said, “It’s easy.”

Someone and I started immediately, running around with our Spines stooped into the Sand, scooping it into our Hands and ploughing it together into one pile. Soon enough, for a lack of Anything else to do, Friend took up our task.

Friend could not help but Laugh at Themself. Their Laughter was contagious, infecting Me and Someone both.

The sky never darkened or brightened, We never tired or hungered, We piled and piled and piled and Laughed and Laughed and Laughed, until our humble Pile had become the largest dune in the Land.

Still, the grey of the sky was not pierced, so We continued on.

Wanderers from all over the Land saw our Pile while atop the dunes they climbed and turned to head Themselves to our conical beacon.

They would ask and be inducted into our Piling. Everyone was so tired of Wandering, it seemed, that they preferred Cooperation over Isolation, even if the project was as ludicrous as collecting the Sand of the entire Land into one monumental mound.

Our Bodies finally had enough and commanded We rest once more. Our Bodies had gotten a taste for resting, it seemed as well.

Friend, Someone and I, along with all the others in the Land, climbed atop our astronomical mound.

There was a little bit of space at the top that couldn’t be seen from the ground. We passed through the grey and Found Ourselves in the Heavens.

Stars and Galaxies and Angels of Dust decorated our blessed Eyes with their glory. Forever, We would have sat there and gazed.

“So, This is the true Sky,” said Friend.

“It’s unbelievable,” said Someone.

“It’s no more unbelievable than your Beauty, Someone,” said I, in the midst of Celestial Magnificence, unable to take my eyes off Someone’s face.

“Take in the sight, Anon,” Someone urged, “Before the Sand is returned.”