The Good Kingdom

"Chari?" I replied, slurring the word. "What happened?"

"By the goddess, you are drunk!"

As Chari helped me into my chair I thought I heard Astrid snicker. "You never could hold your liquor, Francesca."

Tara looked at me concernedly. "You passed out from drinking too much wine," she said. "Are you all right my child?"

"I think so," I replied, rubbing my face hard.

From far away in the distance I heard the faint sound of someone screaming. At first I thought it was just the voice of one particularly drunken sister, but the constant urgency of the plea soon cut through the general cacophony like a knife. Others heard the voice too, and suddenly the entire crowd was thrown into a tumult.

It was Karin, one of the girls who lived on the outskirts of the village nearest the treacherous mountain pass that leads down from the Shishma Pangma into our valley. She ran toward us followed by several other girls, all of them waving their hands in wild gesticulation. Being Christians, they did not celebrate the ritual of the goddess, their religious tradition forbidding them to take part in our ceremony. It soon became apparent what was causing all the excitement.

"It's a man! A man!" Karin cried, as she ran straight toward me, struggling to catch her breath.

The girl nearly knocked me out of my chair as she hurled her body into me, her face hot and flushed and dripping with sweat. The small group of girls who had followed close behind her were so overcome that they fell on the grass exhausted and out of breath.

"By the goddess, what are you talking about?" I asked her. "What man?"

"He's in the ravine!" she replied, gasping for breath. "He's dead I think."

Tara stood up. "Are you sure you saw a man, Karin?" she asked the girl. "Maybe it was an animal that you saw."

"No, holy mother," the girl replied. "It was a man. But he's not moving."

"You're absolutely sure it was a man?" I asked her.

"Yes, yes!" she replied impatiently. "Come see. I'll show you!"

Everyone was in an uproar. The last men to appear in our village was my father and two other scientists in his expedition party, who had found their way here against all odds almost twenty years ago. To Tara the sudden appearance of a man was no accident. This was the sacred day of the goddess and this was her gift to us—at least that's what Tara and many others believed. For my part, I remained dubious. But if Karin was right, and it was truly a man whom she saw lying in the ravine, then we needed to act quickly.

Tara tapped me on the shoulder. "This is the will of the goddess. Let the child lead you to him. Go."

We gave the girl something to drink, and then she led me, Chari, Ide, and several other girls whom I had chosen to accompany us, to the place where the man had been spotted. We took along a stretcher, a canteen of water, some herbs, and some meager medical supplies that had been brought along on my father's expedition. The journey was less than two miles but it seemed we covered the distance in only a few minutes, running most of the way.

The ravine had been formed ages ago by the crystal clear waters that flowed down from the precipitous heights of the stark Karakoram mountain range, which forms the western barrier of our valley. At some remote point in time the river had eroded the surrounding rock, creating a deep and narrow gorge that ran for several miles in an almost unbroken fashion through the fertile lowlands. It was at the base of the ravine that we first saw the body lying supine on a small outcropping of rock. Karin was right. It was indeed a man, but he was not dead.

"See!" Karin cried, as we watched the man move his body slightly upon our arrival. "I told you it was a man!"

He was young, probably no more than twenty-five years old, and dressed in a gray parka that covered most of his body. Next to him was a green-colored bag of some material I did not recognize, and strewn about him were various items that had fallen out of it. His head was still covered with a fur-lined hood and his snow boots were completely waterlogged. As we drew closer to him it was apparent that he had suffered from the effects of prolonged exposure to the cold and rarefied air. He extended his hand toward me and tried to speak, but just as suddenly let it fall to his side. He seemed to be in great agony.

I took the canteen and had Chari and Ide slowly raise his head up so that I could give him some water. I kneeled down beside him and, as I removed his hood, all of us gasped at once.

Protruding from the mass of jet-black hair was the face of the most handsome man I had ever seen. Despite all the hardship he had endured, and even though his body was wracked with pain, his face was beautiful, if such a word can be ascribed to a man. In all respects, he possessed the classical features of the mythical Adonis: a small aquiline nose, the nostrils symmetrical and delicate; a chin that was firm and well shaped; a generous mouth that revealed a set of white, perfect teeth; and a complexion devoid of any physical abnormality. But the most singular aspect of his appearance were his eyes, which were large and of the most intense, violet hue. He now lifted them up to me in silent supplication, as if trying to convey by feelings alone what his lips were unable to utter.

"It's going to be all right," I said, trying to comfort him as I held the canteen to his mouth.

He took a few sips of water and then slipped away into unconsciousness.

"He doesn't appear to have any broken bones," Chari said to me, "at least not from what I can tell."

"Let's get him onto the stretcher," I replied, getting to my feet.

"Don't you think he's pretty," Karin said to me, taken as the rest of us were by the man's incredible good looks.

"A man is not pretty," Ide said, correcting her. "He's handsome."

Karin continued to stare at the prostrate form as the girls gently moved his body onto the stretcher. "I don't care what you say. I think he's pretty."

The stretcher hardly proved suitable to accompany the man's six-foot frame, but with all eight of us carrying him, we were able to get him back to the village without too much difficulty.

When the other women caught sight of what we were carrying they scrambled to get a better view of the unconscious man; fighting amongst themselves to be as close to him as possible. Audible exclamations of delight and astonishment greeted us as we stood at the head of a vanguard of spellbound women who followed us every step of the way toward the vihara where Tara now stood waiting patiently for us. The old woman looked down upon the man we held in our arms and smiled when she saw his face, directing us to carry him into the monastery.

There were several beds already set up in the vihara itself, and with much effort we managed to get him onto one of them. We removed his parka, gloves, and boots and then removed the rest of his clothing, which was completely saturated. A crowd of women stood around him as we undressed him, gasping in sheer delight as more of his undergarments were removed, revealing a taught, muscular body whose perfect proportions reminded me of the statue of David that the great Italian artist Michelangelo had created many centuries ago.

The girls tittered anxiously as I removed the man's underwear. He had been wearing a pair of black briefs with some man's name printed on the elastic rim—a certain Calvin Klein I believe it was—and as I slowly removed the wet cloth his penis sprang into view. It was an ample specimen that caused the crowd to coo with pleasure. Even Tara could not suppress her joy at seeing such an attractive-looking cock and laughed heartily as she reached down and fondled the flaccid member.

"This is a good penis!" she remarked, examining it closely. "I would say about ten inches when erect. And the testicles are big and firm. The goddess has provided for us very well my children."

I, along with the rest of the crowd, stood there gaping in awe at the beautiful man's naked body. Astrid wasted no time in taking over from Tara, running her tiny hands all over his genitals.

"I've never seen anything so lovely," she said, devouring him with her eyes.

"He's no more handsome than Francesca's father was," Chari noted, as she too let her hands gently caress the man's shoulders.

Juliette agreed. "Yes, James Antonetti was a beauty indeed!" she said, puffing on her pipe. "The goddess is most generous to send us such handsome men!"

As she said this she joined the others in letting her hands glide over the magnificent body.

It was impossible to keep the women at bay. Everyone wanted to get a glimpse of the stricken man, and I was forced to keep him in his naked state until each person had had the chance to lay their hands upon him. It was Tara's wish that each woman touch the body in this fashion, in deference to the goddess. But I knew that the real motive, despite fulfilling their curiosity, was the need for physical confirmation that this man was indeed real and not an illusion, as well as to prepare them for the ritual that was soon to follow—the ancient ritual of the fertility goddess, Saraddevi.

When each woman had done her obeisance to the goddess by affirming the fact that the man they had laid hands upon was a gift bestowed upon them by Tara herself, I covered the body with several woolen blankets and assigned a contingent of girls to keep watch at his bedside in alternating two-hour shifts. They were to alert me if there was any change in his condition.

The crowd was reluctant to leave but Tara and I made it clear that the man needed to recover, and it was best that we let him sleep in peace. Even though the temperature was a mild 75 degrees, his body was showing signs of having suffered from prolonged exposure to the cold, and I thought it best to keep him as warm as possible. Beyond that, there was nothing more we could do except to let him rest.

"Did you find any identification on him?" Tara asked me as we walked toward her lodge.

"Nothing," I replied. "But he must have taken some provisions with him. I am assuming that he was part of an expedition and must have lost them along the way."

"That is probably what happened. The Karakoram is a treacherous, unforgiving mountain. The high winds, severe cold, and scant air all take its toll on the human body. The only reason he survived is because the goddess willed it. I know you don't believe in her, but I can offer no other explanation for his survival."

I had no desire to debate the metaphysical nature of her beliefs, but I had to admit that I could offer no plausible alternative theory. My own father had been found in a similar situation, but in his case, a knapsack was found alongside his unconscious body containing various personal effects, one of which was a cell phone. The phone never worked because the electronic signal could not pierce through the blanket of low-lying clouds that formed a perennial cover over the entire valley, scattering the sunlight into one giant diffused canopy through which nothing—not even very high frequency radio waves—could penetrate. The valley was also enclosed on all sides by high mountains that reflected the radio waves back toward the earth, further preventing the signal from getting through. I had often thought that if we had been able to make contact with the outside world, we could have enjoyed many of the technological benefits that the outsiders took for granted. But Tara had often warned me that the world from which my father had come was corrupt and evil in many ways, and that the goddess Tara meant to keep us forever protected from the life-negating influence of an earth dominated by brutal and rapacious men.

"When he has recovered, he must be indoctrinated," the old woman said as we stopped at the entrance to her lodge. "He must be told the truth; the reason why he is here."

I nodded my agreement. "I will have Chari and the others gather some Mandukya plants tomorrow. But we should wait until he is fully recovered before giving him..."

At this point my voice trailed off as I remembered the ill effects that plant had produced in our men.

"I know what you are thinking my child. I do not like the idea of giving him the potion. But it is our existence that is at stake."

"So we're going to use him just as we did my father?"

"So it has been with every man who has found his way here. It is the will of the goddess. We must not question it."

She raised her bony hand to my face and caressed my cheek. I knew she understood my dismay at having to use an innocent man as a guinea pig, but her beliefs, unlike mine, were deeply held and allowed for no compromise. This man, whoever he was, would learn to accept his role in our society. He had no other choice.

************

I awoke at sunrise the next morning, having enjoyed a quiet and restful sleep. As soon as I had finished bathing, dressing, and having my breakfast, I walked up the long stairway to the vihara and saw that there was a small crowd of women standing outside the front entrance. When they saw me coming they moved aside and greeted me with furtive glances.

"Why are you all standing around here?" I asked them. "Do you not have tasks that need to be done?"

"We were concerned about the stranger," Elia replied, a pretty woman in her early fifties who never wasted an opportunity to be nosey. "Chari told us that he has not awoken once during the entire night."

"Where is Chari now?"

"Inside."

"I want all of you to go away. There is nothing any of you can do for him except disturb him with all your silly chatter. When he is better I will let you know."

With reluctance the women slowly withdrew, looking over their shoulders every few seconds to make sure that I was observing their progress down the stairs. Once the last of them had disappeared, I went inside and found Chari, Ide, and Astrid sitting by the stricken man's bedside conversing in soft tones. The other girls I had assigned to watch over him were gone.

"I let them go," Chari said to me. "They were half asleep anyway."

"How long have you been watching him?" I asked her.

"Since about an hour ago. I don't think he has moved a muscle all night."

I looked down at the man, his face godlike and radiant in the faint rays of the morning sun. I gently placed my hand over his brow to feel his temperature and found that his head was no longer hot. However his breathing remained shallow.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Astrid cooed softly, staring at his handsome face. "Maybe he's a god."

"I doubt that," I replied. "Tara and I believe he was probably part of an expedition and that he got lost in the mountains."

"But Tara believes the goddess sent him to us—you don't."

"No, I don't. But he's here and we have to care for him."

"I'm sure Astrid would like to do more than just care for him," Ide laughed. "She can't take her eyes off him!"

"And neither can you!" Astrid replied. "No girl in this village can keep her eyes off him except for Nola, and that's because she likes women."

"Keep your voice down," I said to her. "In fact, why don't all of you go and tend to your chores. I will sit with him for a little while."

Astrid responded with a sly grin. "Oh, I see. You want him all to yourself. Is that it?"

"I want him to rest, and your big mouth is going to wake him up."

"I don't want to go," she said defying me.

"Get out of here Astrid. Right now!"

She was about to protest but Chari gave her a threatening nod and pushed her toward the door.

"All right, I'm going!" Astrid complained. "But I want to see him as soon as he wakes up!"

"Let me know if you need me," Chari said as she guided the annoying girl out the door.

Sometimes being the leader of a people can have its benefits, and this was clearly one time in which this was so. I never liked ordering people around, but sometimes it was necessary. My primary obligation, as Tara had never failed to remind me, was to help bring the stranger back to health. But I had to admit that I wanted to admire the manly work of beauty without having to share him with anyone else. Selfish of me perhaps, but that is one of the privileges of rank.

I sat with him for several hours, examining every minute detail of his glorious physiognomy with my eyes. Just before noon he stirred and threw the blankets off his body, revealing his lean, muscular legs and sensuous backside. He began to mumble something and then cried out, but it was nothing more than incoherent babble. His eyes never opened once and I could tell that he was having a fitful sleep. I took a cool, wet towel and wiped the sweat from his face, then replaced the blankets. He seemed to quiet down then and I left him in the care of several girls and went home.

For three days he remained in this condition until very early on the morning of the fourth day he awoke and asked for some food and water. It was Chari who had been with him at the time and she had come running to my lodge to announce the news.

"Get up, Francesca!" she screamed as she ran into my bedroom. "Get up! He's awake!"

As soon as I had dressed, we both ran up the stairs to the monastery where we were assailed by a gathering of our sisters who had been made aware of the stranger's recuperation. Ide was standing at the doorway as was Astrid, Juliette, and scores of other women mulling about talking loudly.

As I burst through the door I suddenly slipped and skidded several feet until my body landed face down at the feet of our amused and befuddled Adonis. I looked up into his dreamy violet eyes and could feel my heart flutter.

"Well, that's one way to make an impression!" he laughed as he offered me his hand.

As he helped me to my feet I noticed that he was wearing his old clothes and looking none the worse for wear.

"Thank you," I replied, unable to take my eyes off him.

"Your friends have been very good to me. They provided me with food and water and gave me back my clothes."

"Yes," I stammered. "I can see that."

At that moment Tara entered the monastery looking very regal in her purple gown. Two of her attendants were with her followed by half the population of the village. She smiled and walked over to us with a swift gait, her arms outstretched.

"Welcome to Swarga Loka!" she said to him, kissing him firmly on each cheek. "You are looking well! Have our sisters treated you kindly?"

"Yes, yes, indeed!" he replied, somewhat overcome by all the sudden attention. "Who are you may I ask?"

"My name is Tara. I am the servant of the goddess Tara and spiritual leader of the people of Swarga Loka. And this," she said pointing to me, "is Francesca, the chosen one. May I ask your name?"

"Jonathan Francis Cooper," he replied. "I'm an American. I...I..."

He suddenly grabbed his head in his hands and fell back onto the bed taking me with him.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, trying to free myself from his grasp.

"I don't know," he replied. "I should know. After all, I'm a doctor."

"A doctor?" Chari asked. "As in 'medical' doctor?"

"Yes, I'm a GP. You know, a general practitioner. I was with six other people. We were on an expedition to the Himalayan mountain range when we got caught in a blizzard and then the avalanche came and..."

He threw his head back on the pillow and groaned.

"You must get back into bed," I urged him. I turned to Chari. "Bring me some water."

Chari quickly did as I asked and handed me a cup, which I then offered to him. He drank slowly, massaging his forehead as he did so.

"I may have suffered a slight concussion," he said. "I don't suppose you have any aspirin?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Do you have anything to handle the pain? Herbs, roots, some kind of plant extract?"

Tara motioned to one of her assistants to remove something from a jar on the table. The girl did so and gave it to the doctor.