Stephen King – The Dark Tower 5 – The Wolves of the Calla

“No,” Roland said.

“No?”

“I simply let things be as they were. I told Eddie because I was afraid that, once they were sharing a room together, he’d discover her wanderings and try to wake her up. I was afraid of what might happen to both of

them if he did.”

“Why not just tell her?”

Roland sighed. “Listen to me, Jake. Cort saw to our physical training when we were boys. Vannay saw to our mental training. Both of them tried to teach us what they knew of ethics. But in Gilead, our fathers were responsible for teaching us about ka. And because each child’s father was different, each of us emerged from our childhood with a slightly different idea of what ka is and what it does. Do you understand?”

I understand that you’re avoiding a very simple question, Jake thought, but nodded.

“My father told me a good deal on the subject, and most of it has left my mind, but one thing remains very clear. He said that when you are unsure, you must let ka alone to work itself out.”

“So it’s ka.” Jake sounded disappointed. “Roland, that isn’t very helpful.”

Roland heard worry in the boy’s voice, but it was the disappointment that stung him. He turned in the saddle, opened his mouth, realized that some hollow justification was about to come spilling out, and closed it again.

Instead of justifying, he told the truth.

“I don’t know what to do. Would you like to tell me?”

The boy’s face flushed an alarming shade of red, and Roland realized Jake thought he was being sarcastic, for the gods’ sake. That he was angry. Such lack of understanding was frightening. He’s right, the gunslinger thought. We axe broken. Gods help us.

“Be not so,” Roland said. “Hear me, I beg—listen well. In Calla Bryn Sturgis, the Wolves are coming. In New York, Balazar and his ‘gentlemen’ are coming. Both are bound to arrive soon. Will Susannah’s baby wait until these matters have been resolved, one way or the other? I don’t know.”

“She doesn’t even look pregnant,” Jake said faintly. Some of the red had gone out of his cheeks, but he still kept his head down.

“No,” Roland said, “she doesn’t. Her breasts are a trifle fuller—perhaps her hips, as well—but those are the only signs. And so I have some reason to hope. I must hope, and so must you. For, on top of the Wolves and the business of the rose in your world, there’s the question of Black Thirteen and how to deal with it. I think I know—I hope I know—but I must speak to Henchick again. And we must hear the rest of Pere Callahan’s story. Have you thought of saying something to Susannah on your own?”

“I…”Jake bit his lip and fell silent.

“I see you have. Put the thought out of your mind. If anything other than death could break our fellowship for good, to tell without my sanction would do it, Jake. I am your dinh.”

“I know it!” Jake nearly shouted. “Don’t you think I know it?”

“And do you think I like it?” Roland asked, almost as heatedly. “Do you not see how much easier all this was before…” He trailed off, appalled by what he had nearly said.

“Before we came,” Jake said. His voice was flat. “Well guess what? We didn’t ask to come, none of us.” And I didn’t ask you to drop me into the dark, either. To kill me.

“Jake…” The gunslinger sighed, raised his hands, dropped them back to his thighs. Up ahead was the turning which would take them to the Jaffords smallhold, where Eddie and Susannah would be waiting for them. “All I can do is say again what I’ve said already: when one isn’t sure about ka, it’s best to let ka work itself out. If one meddles, one almost always does the wrong thing.”

“That sounds like what folks in the Kingdom of New York call a copout, Roland. An answer that isn’t an answer, just a way to get people to go along with what you want.”

Roland considered. His lips firmed. “You asked me to command your heart.”

Jake nodded warily.

“Then here are the two things I say to you dan-dinh. First, I say that the three of us—you, me, Eddie—will speak an-tet to Susannah before the Wolves come, and tell her everything we know. That she’s pregnant, that her baby is almost surely a demon’s child, and that she’s created a woman named Mia to mother that child.

Second, I say that we discuss this no more until the time to tell her has come.”

Jake considered these things. As he did, his face gradually brightened with relief. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes.” Roland tried not to show how much this question hurt and angered him. He understood, after all, why the boy would ask. “I promise and swear to my promise. Does it do ya?”

“Yes! It does me fine!”

Roland nodded. “I’m not doing this because I’m convinced it’s the right thing but because you are, Jake. I—”

“Wait a second, whoa, wait,” Jake said. His smile was fading. “Don’t try to put all this on me. I never—”

“Spare me such nonsense.” Roland used a dry and distant tone Jake had seldom heard. “You ask part of a man’s decision. I allow it— must allow it—because ka has decreed you take a man’s part in great matters. You opened this door when you questioned my judgment. Do you deny that?”

Jake had gone from pale to flushed to pale once more. He looked badly frightened, and shook his head without speaking a single word. Ah, gods, Roland thought, I hate every part of this. It stinks like a dying man’s shit.

In a quieter tone he said, “No, you didn’t ask to be brought here. Nor did I wish to rob you of your childhood.

Yet here we are, and ka stands to one side and laughs. We must do as it wills or pay the price.”

Jake lowered his head and spoke two words in a trembling whisper: “I know.”

“You believe Susannah should be told. I, on the other hand, don’t know what to do—in this matter I’ve lost my compass. When one knows and one does not, the one who does not must bow his head and the one who does must take responsibility. Do you understand me, Jake?”

“Yes,” Jake whispered, and touched his curled hand to his brow.

“Good. We’ll leave that part and say thankya. You’re strong in the touch.”

“I wish I wasn’t!” Jake burst out.

“Nevertheless. Can you touch her?”

“Yes. I don’t pry—not into her or any of you—but sometimes I do touch her. I get little snatches of songs she’s thinking of, or thoughts of her apartment in New York. She misses it. Once she thought, ‘I wish I’d gotten a chance to read that new Allen Drury novel that came from the book club.’ I think Allen Drury must be a famous writer from her when.”

“Surface things, in other words.”

“Yes.”

“But you could go deeper.”

“I could probably watch her undress, too,” Jake said glumly, “but it wouldn’t be right.”

“Under these circumstances, it is right, Jake. Think of her as a well where you must go every day and draw a single dipperful to make sure the water’s still sweet. I want to know if she changes. In particular I want to know if she’s planning alleyo.”

Jake looked at him, round-eyed. “To run away? Run away where?”

Roland shook his head. “I don’t know. Where does a cat go to drop her litter? In a closet? Under the barn?”

“What if we tell her and the other one gets the upper hand?

What if Mia goes alleyo, Roland, and drags Susannah along with her?”

Roland didn’t reply. This, of course, was exactly what he was afraid of, and Jake was smart enough to know it.

Jake was looking at him with a certain understandable resentment… but also with acceptance. “Once a day.

No more than that.”

“More if you sense a change.”

“All right,” Jake said. “I hate it, but I asked you dan-dinh. Guess you got me.”

“It’s not an arm-wrestle, Jake. Nor a game.”

“I know.” Jake shook his head. “It feels like you turned it around on me somehow, but okay.”

I did turn it around on you, Roland thought. He supposed it was good none of them knew how lost he was just now, how absent the intuition that had carried him through so many difficult situations. I did… but only because I had to.

“We keep quiet now, but we tell her before the Wolves come,” Jake said. “Before we have to fight. That’s the deal?”

Roland nodded.

“If we have to fight Balazar first—in the other world—we still have to tell her before we do. Okay?”

“Yes,” Roland said. “All right.”