TWENTY-SIX: Spring Jubilee

People from the City always came to Spring Jubilee.  Last year seems like yesterday.  It was the last time we saw Threse.

“Miguel!” I heard a familiar voice call across the meadow.  She was walking with Priscilla.

            “Therese, it’s always good to see you!” I said.

            “Aren’t you going to ask ‘when did you get here, Therese?’”

            “How’s the City?” I asked.

            “You heard about the Ephor? The World Prime Ephor, who was also the Ephor of Canadi, was well, met his end?” she asked. “Of course you have.  The under-citizens are speculating that he was assassinated but, of course, it that doesn’t come across on any of the IDE-Walls.”

            “Newspapers?” Priscilla asked.

            “Of course, but only the under-citizens really take them seriously.  To your everyday City folk it’s just fun gossip.”

            There was silence between all three of us.

            “I never can get a handle on the real world when I live in the City, Miguel.  Here seems so far away,” she paused. “Does Ricci have anything to do with it?”

            “Ricci,” I sighed.  “Since he was the Lieutenant Ephor he’s in a good position to be Ephor of Canadi.”

            “Ephor of Afriarbe is Prime Ephor now.  I hear he’s a friend of the Diofe?”

            “Yes,” said Miguel.  “He should be here for Spring Jubiliee.”

            “When’s the last time we had a friend of the Diofe as an Ephor of one of the Pantaganents much less, World Prime Ephor?”

            “It’s been a long, long time,” I sighed.

            “How old are Arous and Edlawit now?”

            “Ten and eleven,” said Priscilla.  “And you won’t believe it but they are putting on a show for the Jubilee.”

            “Really?” Therese asked.

            “They’ve written it and are performing it themselves.”

            “I’ve heard Arous is a pretty good Skin-Dancer,” said Therese.

            “Yes. She’s telling most of the story with the help of a couple other Skin-Dancers we know.”

            “Efavah and Mekko?” Therese asked.

            “Yes!  Two of the best in the world.”

            “So good they were forced underground,” I said. “They were so good a telling stories people hated them.”

            “I see them about once a week or so.  They help support the mission in the City. Some nights I have them come in and storytell.”

            “Be careful, Therese,” said Priscilla.

            “I know, I know,” said Therese, then changing the subject.  “I’ve seen Arous’ mother.  She’s very popular on the IDE-Walls.  She was one of the runners up to be the late Ephor’s Idelle.  Instead, she’s Lueitenent Ephor Ricci’s Idelle.”

            “That was no accident, I’m sure,” I said.  “Nothing with Ricci is an accident.”

“He’s a slippery one I’ll give you that.  And the people of the City love him,” said Therese. “And Arous, does Ricci know she Skin-Dances?”

            “Yes,” I said. “He found out when she was a small child.”

            “How long before she and Edlawit -”

            “How much do you know?” I asked.  I was surprised.

            “Enough to know, I’ll see Arous in the City.  I don’t know when.”

            “It’s a few years yet.  Even I don’t know when.”

            “She leaves the path,” Therese sigh. “Is it for sure? I know with your mind-sight sometimes the future is mutable.”

            I put my arm around Priscilla and pulled her close to me.

            “There are a few other things that must happen first.”

            There was the blast of a ram’s horn.

            “It’s time for the show,” Priscilla said jumping up and clasping her hands together.

            “Ladies,” I said. “It would be my pleasure if you would accompany me to the theatre.”

TWENTY-FIVE: Plateau Drop

“He beat you to it,” I said to Edlawit.

“How did he do that? How’s that possible? He blocked me!”

“Because,” I sighed. “He has jurisdiction.  He’s a Guardian.”

Edlawit smiled.  “Well, that makes me feel better.”

I didn’t return her smile.

“Isn’t it?”

“Yes and no.  Guardians have the power of Life.  They can heal all sorts of brokenness and give you wisdom and strength to endure anything.”

“That sounds good.”

“They also have the power of Death. They don’t just guard people they guard purpose, the ultimate purpose, the Final Sound.  If you get too far off your purpose, too far away from the Final Sound that move life in its natural progression, then your purpose can be given to someone else and you’re dismissed from it.”

“So if you don’t keep moving forward in time, when it all comes together, toward the Final Sound, then?”

“Then, he’ll take you out of the plan.”

“There’s no deviation from the line, then. But what about the Thirteen? We can’t deviate, can we?”

“Um, well,” I said. “Not trying to make this more complicated than it already is but time is more like a spiral.  Like a wheel within a wheel within a wheel.  There are many wheels. It’s not just a straight line and it’s not just cyclical.  It’s neither and both.”

Edlawit didn’t look amused. I hadn’t answered her question.

“And they are all sort of jumbled up.  Well, they seem jumbled but there is order, was order. Like a rubic’s cube that someone all mess up. Except the cube is more like a sphere with wavy lines going through it. That’s time.”

“Forget time, Miguel,” Rhoda was exasperated. “I want to know about the Thirteen.  If we bring everything together then how can we deviate, I mean, can we? Has Arous stepped from the path?”

“It’s complicated.  It’s something only the Diofe can answer.”

“Who were all those others, then? I’ve never seen them before.”

“The cat,” I smiled. “Is the most important, right now.  He is her personal Guardian and he wasn’t talking to her.  He was talking to us.”

In less than fifteen minutes Arous was at Plateau Drop.  She got out of her hoveh and walked to the edge.  Arous looked down from the plateau onto the desert below. Her stomach did butterflies.

From the desert below, Plateau Drop was a sheer that towered almost one thousand feet to the top where Arous stood.  Looking down, down, down.

The instructions were simple: drive to the edge and wait.  A hoveh ferry would buoy it-self up and vehicles were driven onto it.  It then the ferry would descend to the dessert floor.  Desperados riding horses or others walking had to hoof it down to winding path that was one hundred feet north of the ferry; it took hours to get down that way.

Arous got back into her hoveh and followed the instructions: she drove onto the hoveh-ferry.  Snake like straps wound their way around the front and back of her car.  She made sure her roof was secure. Before she could look up from buckling her 2^nd seat belt she was free falling through the air. She screamed.

The hoveh-ferry bounced twice and stopped. The straps retracted with a zing and the ferry said, “Thank you for coming. I hope you enjoy your ride across the desert.”

Arous wasted no time heading straight for the City.

TWENTY-FOUR - Breakfast

Even though the shower energized her, she began to sink into a deep sleep. Foggy images of her father, Priscilla, Miguel, Edlawit, the house and all the others began to float through her mind in grays borrowed from a silent movie.  As she walked through the house, all around her seemed ignorant of her presence.  When she asked Edlawit if she wanted to race to the pond, Edlawit turned and walked away from her.  Everyone around her talked and made a fuss.  Their voices sounded far away and strained as if she were listening to a Victrola.  “What?  What!” she called out in her stupor, almost waking herself up.  Her eyes tried to open and she caught the shadowy image of a man in a long coat and a wide brimmed hat standing erect at the foot of her bed and looking down at her.  All about him was dark and still.  He tilted his head down.  He had no face, no features, just grey shadows.  Somewhere in her vague memory he was familiar.

“He beat you to it,” I said to Edlawit pulling her out.

“How did he do that? How’s that possible? He blocked me!”

Arous body shot up.  She stared into the gray room.  She listened.  The door knob rattled.

She jumped out of the bed and rushed for the bathroom.  She’d noticed a one-inch pipe about the length of a baseball bat leaning in the corner.  She grabbed it running to face the intruder coming through the door.

“Hold it,” said the old man with his hands outstretched.  “My wife thought she heard you crying out over here and made me come check on you. I knocked but you didn’t answer, so I came on in.”

She dropped the pipe.

“I’m sorry if I startled you.  Is everything O.K.?”

“Yes, I was just having a bad dream,” she said.

“The wife’s fixing breakfast.  She’d love for you to come eat with us.  We don’t get many visitors around this time of year. Sun’s too strong. Too hot. Most folks are just ready to drop off the plateau and into the dessert.”

“Thank you.”

“It’ll be on the table in about a half hour.  She’s quick with a good breakfast.”

As the old man closed the door, Arous collapsed on the bed, exhausted.  Aware of her own labored breathing, she noticed that sweat drenched her clothes and hair; the entire bed was soaked.  She rolled over to the window, lifted the curtain and looked out.  The sunrise spun all the grays to pinks and oranges.

That same urge to be wet was nagging at her again.

Shower.  Then breakfast.  The road. Good.

Breakfast was filled with random chatter of the old couple.  They chirped sporadic about this or that.  Arous attempted conversational contributions through nods and smiles. She said many a warm thank you to the mature couple as she got up to leave.

“Wait,” said the old woman.  She turned to the kitchen sink with a bandana in her hand.  She wet it and handed it to Arous.

“It’ll keep you moist in this dry heat,” she said, handing it to Arous.

“How did you know?” asked Arous.

“How did I know what, dear?” asked the old woman.

“Nothing.”

She passed through the screen door to her hoveh.  They waved, watching her glide out of the parking lot.

“Strange girl.  Seemed nice,” said the woman.

“Not sure how nice. I swear, as I was leaving out the back of the house this morning, I saw him when I was coming around the corner, a man walking from her room. A big, tall one like those, well, tall like a Sasquatch but all man. Maybe one those warriors that are always traveling through at night to the Bowl at Alippiana . . .”

“A Nephilim, dear?” his wife asked. “Oh, they’re reputation is worse than they are. You know that.  I don’t think they’d been in these parts.  Mostly stay in the hill country, though stranger things -”

“Do happen. Anyway, I never seen a Desperado that tall.  Could’ve been though.  They’re always running in and out of that diner.  Poor woman next door. Feel sorry for her. Always shooting up the place - ”

“Like they got no sense. If it’d been one of those boys, I’d agree with you. Not nice at all,” she continued his sentence.

“ In any case, I didn’t recognize him.”

“Well, what did he look like?” his wife asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Didn’t you see his face?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “But I couldn’t tell you what he looked like.  Tall as he was, I’m sure he was a Desperado. I think that was him I saw and his girlfriend dragging that wild bunch out of the diner yesterday.”

“How do you know it was the same one if you don’t know what he looked like?”

“It just seems like, you know?”

They continued waving until Arous was out of sight.