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The Knighthood of Dillen
By G.C. Sheys
Chapter 1. The Dream
So far Dillen Smith’s thirteen years of existence could be described largely as uneventful, even boring. His daily routine consisted of going to school and coming home. No wild parties. No date nights.
His idea of fun was playing with his pets in the yard.
On the outside, Dillen looked like a typical thirteen-year-old. He was tall about 5’8” and lanky. Everyday, he felt like he was growing although that could not be true because his height remained the same. He acted a bit clumsy and awkward. The awkwardness he attributed to his growing hormones.
His dark brown, short hair made him looked younger than thirteen years He enjoyed playing ball games and computer games, just like any teen But for the most part, he preferred to be alone and play with his pets- a ferret named Syber and a Guinea pig named Blossom.
His parents – Chris and Linda Smith – were supportive of his endeavors, which basically consisted of nothing since computer games and pet sitting (two of his favorite activities) were not exactly great accomplishments.
But his mom, Linda, always encouraged him to do something phenomenal. She told him to think outside the box. Be his best self. Conquer the mountains – whatever that meant.
Linda Smith grew up to be the family beauty. She was used to being the center of everyone's attention. It was at thirteen, after all, that Linda started joining beauty pageants. In her youth, she ruled the catwalk. With her statuesque and thin frame, she caught the eyes of numerous talent scouts. She was a crowned beauty at a young age. You could say that she was a social success.
Unfortunately, Dillen did not follow in Linda’s footsteps. Nor did he inherit her social graces. He was more like his dad – socially awkward and shy.
At forty-five, Linda still had her looks. She was tall, slim and sported a wavy blonde hair. Her hair used to be dark brown but she dyed it blonde. She was a homemaker. She had not worked since the day she got married. She found working on top of doing the household chores too stressful. And when she had Dillen, the more the chores stressed her.
Fortunately, her husband, Chris was moneyed. Chris was the same age as Linda. He did not grow up rich. But he was a computer genius. He could read and write computer languages like they were plain English. He got paid huge money for his skills. That enabled him to give his family a comfortable lifestyle.
Chris and Linda met when Chris was tapped by the pageant committee to do some computer works for them. The pageant needed a computer to be set up on stage to provide the backdrop for the gown and swimsuit competition. Chris, being a popular programmer, was the natural choice for the job.
Chris liked Linda from the get-go. They had been inseparable ever since.
It was an odd pairing – a computer geek and a pageant winner. People said they had nothing in common. That their marriage would last, at most, a year. But it had been fourteen years and their marriage was still going strong.
Dillen was proud of his parents. But his mom did not seem to reciprocate his feelings. Linda may not say much but Dillen could sense her disapproval of his reticent lifestyle. She thought he should be a go-getter surrounded by real people not pets. Her expectations on how Dillen should live his life clashed with his.
It was at his mom’s constant prodding to be somebody at the social scene that Dillen found himself imagining to be a knight, a hero or even an actor to make up for his feelings of inadequacy. He wanted to be a knight because there was something dramatic about being one. Maybe because they ride a horse through the sunset.
A hero was, of course, hailed by everyone. He thought it might be cool to be so admired. Or maybe, he could be a famous actor adored by many.
Any one but himself because he thought he fell short of his mom’s grand expectations.
Dillen sighed. If he could just do one spectacular thing, maybe his mom would be proud of him. Sadly, he was just an ordinary boy. Spectacular things did not happen to ordinary boys like him.
Dillen's introversion made Linda worried. And she had no qualms talking about it to her husband.
Dillen accidentally overheard his parents talked about him one day, as they watched television in the living room. They didn't realize that he could hear them when he opened his bedroom door on the second floor.
"Do you think our son has health problems we are not aware of?" His mom asked.
"He's perfect. There's nothing wrong with our boy,” his dad, Chris, assured his mom.
Linda seemed unsatisfied with Chris’ answer, "it’s not what the teachers said. They said he’s aloof, withdrawn, and unsociable. He does not talk to people, just pets.”
“I don't see anything wrong with that.”
“Shy people do not reach their fullest potential. That's what's wrong with that,” she lamented.
Unlike Linda, Chris could not see what the big deal was. Shy or not, Dillen was perfect the way he was. Besides, he didn't want a son who was a social butterfly. "Maybe he's just an introvert,” he muttered a reply.
"He needs to get out of his shell. In this case, get out of his room and hang out with boys or girls his age,” Linda said.
"He'll outgrow this stage. You'll see,” Chris said. Chris had been an introvert all his life. He turned out good despite being shy and withdrawn. He had no doubt Dillen would too.
"I hope so." His mom said. She seemed to stifle a sob.
"Why are you crying?” Chris asked. He thought his wife overreacted.
“I'm just worried for our son. He is our only son, you know.”
“There. There. Don't worry about it. He will turn out fine. Everything will be alright,” he heard his dad said.
“We should have bought him those toy robots instead of letting him get pets. Now, he's talking to the ferret and Guinea pig like they're real people.” Then as an afterthought, Linda asked, “Maybe we should get rid of those pets?"
"The pets are his friends. Getting rid of them might make him depressed. Is that what you want?"
"It might force him out of his shell.”
“That's not the way to do it. It might make him rebellious. Give him time. I'm sure Dillen will come around.”
Linda sighed. “I just hope this phase will be over soon."
"It will be. It will be,” he heard his dad said repeatedly as if he too tried to convince himself to stay positive.
When Dillen came out of his room, he pretended not to have heard the conversation between his parents. He felt bad that he made them worry. But he felt happy being himself. He could not be anyone but himself. He did not see any problem with being an introvert either.
"Do you want to invite your friends for a sleepover?" His mom asked when she saw him.
'What friend?' Dillen thought. “Not this time mom. Maybe later,” Dillen would say no each time.
Despite Linda’s misgivings about his introversion, Dillen loved his uncomplicated life. He lived simply. No dramas. No adventures. No surprises. He preferred it that way.
Well, it was mostly like that until, one day, he experienced something out of the ordinary. Dillen's peaceful existence, all of a sudden, went topsy-turvy. He didn't realize it then but that day heralded a new beginning. A world of adventure unknowingly opened up to him. In hindsight, he should have paid attention to the clues. But he was too preoccupied with his troubles to notice them.
It all began with a weird dream. The first time he dreamt it, he thought he had gone crazy. The details were a bit fuzzy since he had a hard time recalling them but he could remember a voice waking him up in the middle of the night.
“Dillen, wake up! Wake up!” a man’s voice could be heard pleading him. He had been sleeping comfortably in his bed for several hours when the voice woke him up.
Dillen did not welcome this intrusion. He hated to be woken up from deep slumber. One of the most precious things he treasured in life was his sleep. A man, especially a growing one, needed his sleep. But the stranger seemed in need of help. He could not ignore a person in need no matter how much his body screamed for sleep.
He forced himself to wake up, if only to please the stranger. He struggled to open his eyes. At first, he felt disoriented. He couldn't remember where he was. It was dark. The only light he saw was from a distant street light. It took several seconds to get used to the darkness. Then, it dawned on him that he was in his bedroom.
Dillen could see the man stood at the center of his room. But the vision was not so clear. Largely, because he was still sleepy and the room was dim.
He felt scared but sleepiness overtook the fear. Also, he was curious to see the person who woke him up. He wondered what the man was doing in his room. He could not be a thief. A thief would not wake up a homeowner. But he could be wrong. “Who are you?” Dillen mustered the courage to ask.
He could see that the man was dressed in metal gear from head to toe. He looked like one of those horse-riding Knights from the Medieval. His face was not covered by the metal gear. Dillen could see parts of his face illuminated by the street light, enough to give him an idea of how he looked like.
“I'm a knight. I come from the past. We need you Dillen. Please help us,” the man pleaded.
Dillen could hear the urgency in his voice.
“But I am not from the past. I'm right here in the present,” he mumbled an incoherent reply. The drowsiness made him sound more like a drunk. He struggled to keep his eyes open. But all his body wanted to do was fall back to sleep. The bed just felt so inviting and comfy.
“You can go back to the past, Dillen. You have the means to do so. All you have to do is accept the offer. Please help us.” With that, the voice faded away and the man vanished.
Dillen did not have a chance to ask questions. He wa fast asleep. But seconds later, he stirred wide awake. He could not recall exactly what had transpired but he could remember seeing a man in his room just a minute ago. Instead, he found himself staring blankly at the wall.
‘Did he just dream all that…again?’ he wondered.
He had dreamt the same dream for ten nights in a row now. He did not know the guy. He had no idea why the man kept showing up in his dream.
At first, he shrugged it off as just an ordinary dream. Maybe, it was a way for his tired body to cope. But this had went on for far too long for him to ignore. Besides, it was creepy! The man did not seem evil but he did not welcome the intrusion night after night.
Dillen was resolved to put a stop to this dream. He needed to act on it. Fortunately, the next day was a Saturday. There were no classes. He could talk to his mom about the recurring dream. Perhaps, she could help him.
He glanced at the clock on the side table. It was ten minutes to two in the morning. Too early to get up. Dillen went back to sleep. He was dead to the world in no time.
The next day, he talked to his mom about the recurring dream that kept him awake at night.
“The guy looks like someone from the olden times, he wakes me up in the middle of my sleep every night. He has done this for ten nights in a row now,” he complained.
“Does he look familiar to you?” his mom asked.
“No, I never saw him before.”
“That sounds creepy! Does he scare you?”
“Actually no. He seemed like a nice person.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He wants me to go back to the past to help him.”
“The past? It is not possible to go back to the past. It does not make sense at all. Well, dreams don't make sense after all.”
“I wonder what the dream meant?”
“Next time, why won't you ask him how you could go back to the past and help him? Maybe that will answer your question on its meaning.”
“I get so groggy, I often forget what to ask.”
“Maybe your subconscious mind is telling you something. Or, the message holds some clues to your past life or your future.”
“What clues?”
“I don't know son.”
“I have no idea what the dream meant. I just want it to stop.”
“We should go see a therapist next week. He will have much better idea on how to interpret your dream.”
“Will the dream stop if I see a therapist?”
“Maybe so. At least, the therapist can tell you how to.”
“Okay.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I will go check on you several times tonight. Maybe if you have company, he won't show up.”
Dillen nodded. “Maybe so. I just hope he won't show up tonight. It's freaking me out.”
“If he will, call me.”
“I will. Thanks mom.”
“Anything for you, son. Don't worry about it. It's just a dream. If he meant to harm you, he would have done so ten days ago. We'll figure out a way to make it stop.”
Dillen heaved a sigh of relief. Indeed, if he was a bad person, he would have harmed him since day one. “Thanks mom.”
“Why won't you set the table? Lunch will be served soon.” Linda said, “ and oh, before I forget, could you please bring this green bean casserole and pecan pie to our neighbor, Mr. Ridley? He loves green beans and the pie I'm sure he will love both dishes.”
Mr. Bach Ridley was their seventy-nine year old, widower neighbor who lived alone in his house. Dillen's mom would sometimes give him food. Perhaps, to cheer him up because he seemed so solitary. They had been neighbors since Dillen could remember.
Mr. Ridley often saw Dillen when he would leave for school. Or, when he got home from school. The old man had a habit of sitting by the porch each afternoon until the sun sets. He did not talk a lot. He liked to be by himself, much like Dillen. Mr. Ridley would wave his hand at him every time he walked past his house. That was largely the extent of their interaction. Despite Mr. Ridley’s aloofness, Dillen grew fond of him.
Being next door neighbors, Mr. Ridley was invited to every single one of Smiths' Thanksgiving and Christmas parties. If he could not show up for some reason like an illness, Linda would ask Dillen to bring him some food.
During Thanksgiving, Dillen would bring a huge slice of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, meatloaf, cheesecake and his favorite, sweet yams. On Christmas, he would get a slice of ham, cornbread, potato salad, baked beans and chocolate cake.
Dillen remembered the dishes he brought because he helped prepare those foods. Also, they prepared the same foods year after year for each occasion. Which was a good thing because he only ate some of those dishes on those occasions. It made him look forward to those days.
Dillen went to Mr. Ridley's house and knocked on the door. He brought the casserole and pie with him.
“Who is it?” Mr. Ridley asked.
“It's Dillen! Mom asks me to bring you some food.”
“Come in Dillen.”
When Dillen stepped inside the house, he saw Mr. Ridley sitting on the dining table, all by himself. He had a loaf of bread, a stick of melting butter and a cup of dark coffee on the table in front of him. “You're just in time for my lunch,” Mr. Ridley said.
Lunch didn't seem much for Mr. Ridley. Dillen was glad he brought him some real food. The old man needed proper nourishment especially at his age.
Dillen laid the food on the table. “Mom knows you love green beans.” The bean casserole was in a small, rectangle-shaped, disposable silver serving dish. The pecan pie was in a small, round-shaped, disposable silver dish. It was a lot of food for one person. Mr. Ridley would probably eat the food for a day or two.
“And you bring pecan pie too. This is one of my favorites.” Mr. Ridley declared. “These are a lot of food son. Please tell your mom thank you. I truly appreciate her generosity. And thank you too for bringing the food to me.”
“No problem at all. Mom loves to cook and share her food to you.”
“She's a good woman. She looks after me like I'm her dad.”
“She does look up to you like a father. And we are happy to help. You need all the help you can get.”
“Do you have grandparents?” Mr. Ridley asked.
“I do but they live so far away. I barely see them except on special occasions.”
“I won't mind if you call me grandpa. And it does get hard around here since I'm alone.” Mr. Ridley said as he glanced at the bread and coffee on the table. “I meant to cook something for lunch but my gout bothers me.”
“Don't you have children or grandchildren?”
“I do. But, like you, they live far from me. They have their own families now too. They're too busy to come and see me.”
“If you need help Mr. Ridley, you can always count on me.”
“Nah, it's ok. I can manage. I'll be fine.”
“I don't want you to think that you're a bother. You will never be a bother. I'll be glad to help.”
“Thank you Dillen. You're a good boy, son. Your parents are lucky to have you.”
“Thank you for the compliment. I'd better get going now. Mom will serve lunch soon.”
“Thank you Dillen.”
“You're welcome.” As Dillen turned to go, he accidentally brushed off one of the framed pictures on top of Mr. Ridley's table. The picture frame fell to the floor.
“Oops. I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry. I'm so clumsy,” Dillen apologized.
Good thing the picture frame did not break.
Dillen stooped down to pick it up. When he looked at the picture on the frame, he had the surprise of his life. His heart skipped a beat. The man on the picture was the same man who appeared in his dreams for ten nights now! What were the odds that he would find him in Mr. Ridley's house?
“Mr. Ridley, can I ask you something?” Dillen asked as he picked up the framed picture and stood up.
“Yes of course. What is it?”
“This man in the picture. Do you know who he is?”
“He is my friend. Someone I know from the past. Why do you ask?”
“He appears in my dream for ten nights in a row now. Could you please tell me his name? Maybe it will help solve the mystery.
“His name is Artos. I haven't seen him for years. I was fifteen years old when I last saw him. I kept that picture as a souvenir.”
“Do you know where I can find him? Or, at least, contact him?”
“No. The last time I saw him I was in Boston at that time. I never talked to him after that.”
“Is there a way that you can contact him?”
“No. I can't.”
“Do you know his last name? I can search his contact details online.”
“Unfortunately, I don't know his last name.”
Dillen sighed. All he got was a name. There were so many Artos all over the world. How would he find him? “I've been wondering about this dream and the guy. I don't know what to make of it,” he confessed.
“What do you see in your dream?”
“This guy is asking me for help. He said he's from the past. Whatever does that mean?”
“He could be in trouble. And, he literally needs your help. That could be a possibility.”
“But how can I help him? I don't even know who or where he is.”
“He will manifest in due time.”
“Do you think so?”
“He will. Just be patient,” Mr. Ridley seemed so confident.
“I hope so.”
“Let me know if you dream of him again tonight.”
“I will.” Dillen replied, “I’d better get going. Mom is waiting for me.”
During lunch, his mom asked him questions but Dillen's mind was on the picture. Artos – the guy’s name. He thought of the name over and over. He needed to find out more about this guy.
“Are you alright son?” Linda asked.
“Yes just wondering about my dream.”
“Just let me know if he shows up again tonight.”
“I will.”
After lunch, Dillen headed to his room. He used his tablet to search for “Artos”online. The search produced numerous results. He clicked on the images to see if they resembled the man in his dreams.
The search was not successful. Dillen did another search. This time he keyed in the words “Artos knight” mainly because the man looked like a knight. The search results showed images of various men. He kept searching through the images until he stumbled on a knight who looked similar to Mr. Ridley's friend, Artos.
The result showed an image of a knight who looked like the man in his dream. According to the search results, the man was the great grandson of King Arthur of the Knights of the Round Table. What made it so surprising was his birthdate. He was born in the 1800’s. That would make him more than three centuries old! It could not possibly be the same Artos whom Mr. Ridley befriended. Or, the one who appeared in his dreams. He could not be three hundred years old.
Dillen got confused more than ever. Why would a three hundred-year-old man pay him a visit?
He could not find immediate answers to his questions. Perhaps, his dream meant nothing. Maybe, if he would forget about it, the guy would not come back.
That night, the dream that Dillen dreaded didn't recur. Surprisingly, the next day on a Sunday night, he didn't dream of Artos too. He happily reported to his mom that the dreams stopped. He also told Mr. Ridley on Monday, before he left for school, that the dream didn't recur.
“Good for you.” Mr. Ridley said.
“I think talking about the dream helps put a stop to it. I'm glad it's over. I got scared seeing the same dream again and again.”
“It could be a sign Dillen.”
“A sign?”
“Of something bigger. That you're meant to do something big in the future.”
“What could that be?”
“I think we will find out soon enough.”
Mr. Ridley's words puzzled Dillen. But he didn't give much thought to them as he needed to hurry for school.
