SEVENTY-SEVEN: Fatted Calf and No Bull

“We think she’s about to break her mother out of the HaleSpa.  She’s been there once,” I said.

            Edlawit and I stood before him in his Willing Room.  It’s not that he didn’t already know but we just needed some guidance and some comfort.

            “The dreams and memories have intensified now,” said Edlawit.  “But I’m not sure what to do.”  She was almost in tears.

            “And Octavius has been helpful,” said the Diofe.

            “Very,” I said.

            “Edlawit,” said the Diofe. “How has the communication to her been?”

            “Good. I think.”

            “You think? What don’t you know?”

            “Well, it has been during memories.  We’ve just caught up with her in real time, I think.  Everything’s been a jumble.  Out of order.  I’ve – We’ve made sense of most of it.”

            “What don’t you know?”

            “Well, memories.  I’ve thought things and then she’s said or did little things to make me thing she heard me but it can’t be those were things that happened in the past.”

            The Diofe smiled and almost chuckled. Edlawit relaxed.  His chuckle had that effect on you.

            “Edlawit,” he said motioning to her to come sit by him as his large chair expanded into a sofa to make room for her.

            He put his arm around her and pulled her in tight.

            “Edlawit, you are so very good at your gift.  You must remember and believe though that you exist in Eternity, not Time.  Right now, Arous is in Time. She is out there in the City and she has disconnected from me.  She has chosen to connect with you and with Miguel.  You are her only connection to me.  You are outside of time and whatever you think to her, send to her comes ouf from eternitiy to whatever point in time the memory is.  You are not ruled by time, only she is.  Does that make sense?”

            “Sort of,” she said.

            “The important thing is,” said the Diofe. “I give gifts that work.  When you stay in me, my gifts work like they are supposed to. Time has no hold on them.”

“There’s another thing, sir,” I said, “the fatted calf is ready.”

 “Yes, Miguel, the fatted calf.”

“The chief Skin-dancer reported to me this morning, the fatted calf is ready for Spring Jubilee. I can get him ready after lunch to prepare for a morning sacrifice.”

“Spring Jubilee.  The celebration of life, newness, renewed hope and joy.” Then he paused. I know he heard me. He’s not aloof but seemed to be concentrating. Then he looked straight at me.

“Not yet, Miguel. Though I’m happy for all my children, I can’t dance, not yet.”

“I know.”

Edlawit began squalling, anguish pouring out of her in a flood of tears.  He pulled her even closer and held her.

“Will she?” she started but couldn’t finish her sentence.

“You just do what you are called to do, Edlawit.  Use your gifts. Follow the desires of your heart. There is nothing else.”

When the calf tells you he’s ready, and the chief Skin-dancer confirms it, the calf is ready. You wait very long and the calf becomes a bull. Just because he’s from the Mist doesn’t mean he won’t keep growing-up to become a bull. Before long he won’t be the fatted calf anymore, but a fat bull and no one can stand that much bull.

As Aclarid, I can see what is churning in that mind, in that spirit of his, if he lets me in. But I don’t have to know to obey. Her departure hurt him; it has not changed him. In all my existence, I have never seen one shade of change in him. I know that Diofe does not, cannot be other than what he is.  Oh, he’s done the unexpected but it surprised me because I didn’t know him, not because he evolved. The Diofe doesn’t advance or change: he changes us. He grows us up.

            “You’re growing into a beautiful woman, Edlawit,” the Diofe said. “Don’t be afraid and don’t give up.”