The Waste Lands (The Dark Tower #3)

Jake scraped the steel across the flint. A spark jumped, and this time the kindling caught fire. He sat back contentedly and watched the flames spread, one arm slung around Oy’s neck. He felt well pleased with him-self. He had started the evening fire . . . and he had guessed the answer to Roland’s riddle.

“I’VE GOT ONE,” JAKE said as they ate their evening burritos. “Is it a foolish one?” Roland asked.

“Nah. It’s a real one.”

“Then try me with it.”

“Okay. What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a head but never weeps?” “A good one,” Roland said kindly, “but an old one. A river.” Jake was a little crestfallen. “You really are hard to stump.” Roland tossed the last bite of his burrito to Oy, who accepted it eagerly. “Not me. I’m what Eddie calls an overpush. You should have seen Alain. He collected riddles the way a lady collects fans.”

“That’s pushover, Roland, old buddy,” Eddie said. “Thank you. Try this one: What lies in bed, and stands in bed?/ First white, then red/ The plumper it gets/ The better the old woman likes it?” Eddie burst out laughing. “A dork!” he yelled. “Crude, Roland! But I like it! I liyyyke it!”

Roland shook his head. “Your answer is wrong. A good riddle is sometimes a puzzle in words, like Jake’s about the river, but sometimes it’s more like a magician’s trick, making you look in one direction while it’s going somewhere else.”

“It’s a double,” Jake said. He explained what Aaron Deepneau had said about the Riddle of Samson. Roland nodded.

“Is it a strawberry?” Susannah asked, then answered her own ques-tion. “Of course it is. It’s like the fire-riddle. There’s a metaphor hidden inside it. Once you understand the metaphor, you can solve the riddle.” “I metaphor sex, but she slapped my face and walked away when I asked,” Eddie told them sadly. They all ignored him.

“If you change ‘gets’ to ‘grows,’ ” Susannah went on, “it’s easy. First white, then red. Plumper it grows, the better the old woman likes it.” She looked pleased with herself.

Roland nodded. “The answer I always heard was a wenberry, but I’m sure both answers mean the same thing.”

Eddie picked up Riddle-De-Dum! and began flipping through it. “How about this one, Roland? When is a door not a door?” Roland frowned. “Is it another piece of your stupidity? Because my patience-” “No. I promised to take it seriously, and I am—I’m trying, at least. It’s in this book, and I just happen to know the answer. I heard it when I was a kid.” Jake, who also knew the answer, winked at Eddie. Eddie winked back, and was amused to see Oy also trying to wink. The humbler kept shutting both eyes, and eventually gave up.

Roland and Susannah, meanwhile, were puzzling over the question. “It must have something to do with love,” Roland said. “A door, adore. When is adore not adore . . . hmmm . . .”

“Hmmm,” Oy said. His imitation of Roland’s thoughtful tone was perfect. Eddie winked at Jake again. Jake covered his mouth to hide a smile. “Is the answer false love?” Roland asked at last. “Nope.”

“Window,” Susannah said suddenly and decisively. “When is a door not a door? When it’s a window.”

“Nope.” Eddie was grinning broadly now, but Jake was struck by how far from the real answer both of them had wandered. There was magic at work here, he thought. Pretty common stuff, as magic went, no flying carpets or disappearing elephants, but magic, all the same. He suddenly saw what they were doing—a simple game of riddles around a campfire—in an entirely new light. It was like playing blind-man’s bluff, only in this game the blindfold was made of words. “I give up,” Susannah said.

“Yes,” Roland said. “Tell if you know.”

“The answer is a jar. A door is not a door when it’s ajar. Get it?” Eddie watched as comprehension dawned on Roland’s face and asked, a little apprehensively, “Is it a bad one? I was trying to be serious this time, Roland—really.”

“Not bad at all. On the contrary, it’s quite good. Cort would have gotten it, I’m sure . . . probably Alain, too, it’s still very clever. I did what I always used to do in the schoolroom: made it more complicated than it really was and shot right past the answer.”

“There really is something to it, isn’t there?” Eddie mused. Roland nodded, but Eddie didn’t see; he was looking into the depths of the fire, where dozens of roses bloomed and faded in the coals.

Roland said, “One more, and we’ll turn in. Only from tonight on, we’ll stand a watch. You first, Eddie, then Susannah. I’ll take the last one.” “What about me?” Jake asked.

“Later on you may have to take a rum. Right now it’s more impor-tant for you to get your sleep.”

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