Twenty-five minutes after Zola had gone, and having consumed the bitter tasting Iboga root, and having vomited twice, and wondering if he’d done the right thing, Cooper sat staring so intently at the tree, with his eyes stretched so open wide, they began to hurt.
He watched, certain a strong wind was getting up under the tree’s branches but then, slowly, little by little, the bark of the tree started to change into a ripple of colors. Moving with grace along the ground.
Greens and blues. Visions spectacular. A fountain of pinks and gold, dancing round like magical raindrops falling from the moon which covered him with light. Grass growing so high he couldn’t see where it ended, and water covering the floor which he didn’t fall through.
He stretched out his arms straight in front of him. Felt the heavy weight of nothing. He looked along his arm and followed the dancing beams to his hands, and from his hands to the tips of his fingers. From the tips of his fingers he touched someone else’s hand.
‘Ellie?’
‘Yes, Tom, it’s me… I’m here. You’ve found me.’