At sunrise, people gather at the waterfall. Noah, their leader, stands on a boulder, smoothed from the many times his feet have climbed atop it. Noah has brought people to the waterfall for 3 years, but he has never taken “the journey.” Noah, however, did create the term: “the journey.” The term gave his work more credibility. With people in Pandemonium banting about the term, Noah’s leading people to their disappearance did not seem strange.

Noah stood on the boulder, his back to the two dozen people—the number of people used to be larger, and while “the journey” was normalized in the lexicon, its popularity waned. Noah breathed deeply and turned to the crowd.

“You took my father!”

A voice erupted from the crowd. Noah did not see who screamed the accusation, but he responded in a calm voice: “Your father simply went on the journey. His choice, not mine.”

“But you brought my father here. Without you…”

“Without me,” Noah said, “your father would still be curious: what lies beyond the waterfall? I helped your father answer his curiosity.”

“What about your curiosity?”

The heckler’s face came into view for Noah. The voice and face united, and Noah could see the young lady’s face was purple.

“You cannot answer me,” the heckler said.

“I can answer you, and I will. But first, tell me your name.”

“My name does not matter. Your malicious actions are what matter.”

“Malice? How can leading people to their freedom be malice?” Noah said.

The other in the crowd, the ones who did want to disappear, rumbled at the heckler–You don’t understand; Noah is a good guy; Go home!

“If ‘the journey’ is so great, then why have you not taken it?” the heckler’s voice rose above the din.

The question quieted the crowd, and their focus shifted from the heckler to Noah. The crowd’s eyes pleaded with Noah: give us an answer.

“My role is to facilitate other’s journeys. Not to take a journey myself,” Noah said.

“Sounds like you’re scared,” the heckler said. “You disappear through the waterfall, and these folks will no longer pay you to take them here. ‘The journey’ will end your gravy train.”

The crowd let out a collective Ah. The men in the crowd stepped closer to the boulder, and Noah realized he needed to say or do something quickly. He had never prepared for a day when the crowd would turn against him. In the past, before numbers began dwindling, the crowds obediently followed him, paid, and stepped through the waterfall. Noah assumed they were happy, although he did not have a clue where they went. He told his followers that when they stepped through the waterfall, they went to the place of their dreams. Everyone’s dream is different, so everyone’s destination is different.

“What was your father’s dream?” Noah’s voice boomed about the sound of the crashing water.

The crowd stopped. The heckler looked nervous.

“Tell us,” Noah said.

“My father told you his dream,” the heckler said. “Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, I do. But do you really know your father’s dream? Your hesitation makes me think not.”

“To see unspoiled nature.” The heckler’s voice was firm. “He wanted to return to the time when Earth was still natural. Trees, flowers, and animals abounded. To lie in the grass, look up at an azure sky, see an eagle gliding, and feel the sun warming his face: that was his dream.”

“And that is where your father is now,” Noah replied, lifting his chin and encouraging the crowd to applaud.

“How do you know that’s where he is?” the heckler asked. “How do you know people survive the waterfall? No one has returned to tell us what they saw.”

“Our ancestors gave us the proof with their stories about the power of the waterfall.”

“Old legends. You are putting people’s lives in danger due to old lies?”

The crowd vacillated, and this scared Noah.

“If your faith in the old stories is so strong, then step through the waterfall.”

The heckler’s statement hung in the air, resonating.

“Then there would be no one to lead others,” Noah said.

“We are only stepping through a waterfall,” the largest man in the crowd said. “How much leading do we need?”

The crowd rumbled their support for this idea, and as the idea strengthened, their volume increased. The heckler seized her moment: “Noah, she called out, “walk through the waterfall!”

“Walk through the waterfall! Walk through the waterfall! Walk through the waterfall!”

Noah swayed atop the boulder. The vitriol of the crowd slapped his face. Noah knew he could not talk his way out of this situation. A deep breath, he straightened his back, and proclaimed: “Watch! As I walk through the waterfall.”

The crowd silenced. Noah stepped off the boulder, the heckler pushed her way to the front of the crowd, and all present waited anxiously.

Noah thought: What am I doing? But as his number of followers dwindled, perhaps a change was needed.

Noah raised his arms above his head, faced the crowd, and announced: “Peace be with you all! May your journey take you to your dreams!”

Noah slowly turned, stood still a few seconds, closed his eyes tightly, and stepped through the falling water.

He felt nothing. No impact. No moment of arrival. Nothing. He opened his eyes and saw that he stood in shallow water at the base of the waterfall. The pool was the same. The boulder was the same. But the crowd was gone.

He saw trees surround him. He slowly made his way to the boulder and placed his palm on its surface. It felt real. He climbed atop it and looked toward where the crowd had stood. Nobody was there. No heckler. No noise.

He called out. No answer. He waited and waited. He sat on the boulder and watched the waterfall in despair. Nothing changed. No one came. Hours passed.

On the third day, he heard voices. He stood up with excitement and walked towards the sound. Then, he saw them. A couple people standing at the base of the waterfall, the same place he was when he first arrived.

His crowd. They looked confused. They looked afraid.

“Now what?” the heckler walked forward slowly and asked, angered by the fact that Noah had lied.

Noah had no answer. He looked at the people waiting for him to lead. He had nothing to offer them. No stories. No legends. No promises.

“The journey is over,” Noah said. “We have to find a way to live here.” He turned and walked into the trees. After a moment, the crowd followed.