Thunder clouds roll across the sky in black and blue lines as I climb. Lifting a heavy legs up the steep ascent, a cramp twinges through my neck, and I stumble to my hands and knees. Palms scuff the rough-hewn stairs carved into the curved sandstone cliffs, and I lick my lips as a light mist falls over me. Moving at a snails pace, my hand catches the camel colored stoned, some of it crumbling under my weight as I struggle up. I glance over the edge, unable to see the ground below through the thick fog swirling in the distance. Anxiety washes over me, as I grab a piece of broken rock and with trembling hands drop it.

No sound echoes back. Shuddering, I continue carefully. The side of my neck twinges again, but I ignore it as I pull myself forward. Only a few feet left, and I’ll be at the top of the stairs. I crawl to the top and collapse forward. My breath comes in a hard rush as I look around the flat green field stretching out in front of me. Off to the far left stands a lone oak. The tree’s ancient limbs seem to bend at odd angles, almost as if the new growth had tried to twist off in an effort to get away. The old oak held on, though, securing the new to it with the strength of its will.

Under the shade of the giant tree, stands a small apple-cheeked boy and a large grey Elephant. The boy has The Elephant’s trunk held steady in one hand as he squints inside. His mouth puckers into a pout as he rears back, rubs his eye with a small fist and leans in for another look. He runs a small perfect hand over his bright white tee-shirt and slides it inside his navy short’s pocket pulling out a hankie. He reaches up and puts the hankie to the Elephant’s nose.

“Blow,” he demands in a childish voice. The Elephant complies, the sound of Her trumpeting call fills the air, echoing against the sky as the boy grabs the Elephant’s trunk and peers in again.

“What are you doing?”

The boy blinks, glancing away from the Elephant to give me a brief, disgusted look. “I’m trying to see inside, you imbecile.”

I fight the urge to do something malicious as The Elephant turns and frowns.

“Everyone learns in their own way.”

The voice is a deep throbbing bass and I realize The Elephant is speaking. Glancing my way, Her eyes bloodshot, I gap at Her bit. I'm pretty sure I’ve heard That Voice before.

“You couldn’t send a burning bush?”

There is a quick quirk of the Elephant’s mouth, and I’d swear She's smirking at me. She shakes off the boy’s hand and raises Her trunk letting out a sound that shakes the ground. I shrug. It's not like I'm in the position to judge.