The first few times Shawn had taken Marty to the labs, the five-year-old had been wide-eyed with awe and curiosity. But by mid-December Marty was starting to act like he owned the place. On one particular morning they were working their way through a step-by-step chemistry demonstration that showed several different reactions, from color changes to gas generation.
Shawn was learning almost as much as Marty.
Every time they would observe a reaction, Marty would have three responses. First he would laugh and snicker like a little kid. That lasted a minute or less. Then he would fall silent and sit staring at the symbolic chemical expressions that explained the reaction. That phase lasted five to ten minutes. Finally he would get curious about the substance itself and start poking at it with whatever was handy, sometimes trying to taste it. That was when Shawn had to get tough.
“You know Marty, that chemical change made our mixture turn black and fizzle. How would you like your insides to turn black and fizzle? That just might happen if you go eating chemicals without understanding them.”
Marty was thoughtful. “I won’t eat it, Shawn,” he said in a sober, almost sad voice. Then a sparkle came into his eyes. “I’ll eat this one!” he said, and proceeded to grab a jar and unscrew the lid.
“Whoa!” Shawn said, grabbing the jar. “See this skull and cross bones?
Know what that means?”
“Pirates!” Marty said with surety.
Shawn closed his eyes. “You’re right. And pirates can be dangerous, and so it means that this chemical is poison. Are you smart enough to know what poison means, or does Brother Matthew have to cancel your Lab Pass?”
Marty pouted for a moment, then smiled. “I’m smart!” he said, and turned to the row of jars and quickly touched each one. “Poison, poison, okay, poison, okay, poison, poison. Right?”
Shawn looked. Some of the jars had been sitting at an angle so that the warning labels were not visible. The two that Marty had identified as okay were Sodium bicarbonate and Calcium chloride. Shawn’s mouth opened in surprise. “Um... you’re right!”
They continued with the demonstration. Shawn gave a simple explanation of buffering agents, and then began to measure out the necessary chemicals.
“Shawn, we add Sodi hypo first?”
“Why should we do that?”
“BOOM!” Marty said, describing a huge atomic mushroom cloud with his hands.
Shawn looked across the room. The Lab Tech on duty was just finishing with some visitors. “Matthew, what happens if we add the Sodium hypochlorite before the buffering agent?”
“It’ll blow up in your face. Do it under the vent hood, please.”
Shawn frowned at Marty, and Marty smiled.
“I wasn’t gonna eat it, Shawn!”
Shawn couldn’t help but laugh.
Ashley was glad she was able to push Jenny to the Audio Production Studio after lunch on the first day the young musician felt strong enough to work on her music again. Brother Brian walked beside, and there was a sparkle in Jenny’s eyes every time she glanced at the young man and he returned her glance and a very genuine, caring smile.
Ashley had speculated to herself what sort of relationship was developing between Jenny and Brian. And she wondered whether it was an assignment or a real, spontaneous relationship. Many others at Lyceum had also speculated. Ashley, and the others, were all smart enough to keep their speculations to themselves and accept the fact that it was none of their
business, and that they would, in all probability, never know.
“Good morning!” Brother Chad said as they entered the studio. He stooped down and kissed Jenny on the cheek, which made her blush. “You know, Jenny, you have about twice as much hair as you had when you first came here.”
“I know!” she said proudly, glancing at Brian.
“So you feel like going back to work?”
“Yep!”
“I’m glad. I’ve found a few passages where I’m pretty sure there are three or four voices that are properly aligned already, and hearing those is starting to give me a sense of how important a work this is. But it really does need you to get it all scored properly.”
Jenny
smiled.
“Shall we start by clearing up a few points in Voice Seven that we didn’t feel sure about last session?”
“Okay!”
They all gathered around the large display screen of the editing computer.
Brother Chad had the computer display and play a few bars. “Any problems there?”
“Sounds okay to me,” Jenny said.
“Me too,” Chad said.
Ashley and Brian, neither possessing significant musical talents, just listened.
The computer played a few more bars.
“I was wondering about this area here...” Chad said.
“Yeah. Something’s wrong. It’s too slow. Um... all those notes in bars thirty-five to thirty-seven should be quarter notes.”
“Yes, I was thinking something like that too,” he said, tapping in the changes.
The computer replayed it, and Jenny nodded with satisfaction.
The process continued for the next forty-five minutes, and then they took a break. Ashley hugged Jenny and headed for gymnastics. Jenny and Brian munched on muffins that had been baked just that morning while listening to the cleaned-up version of Voice Seven. When it ended, Jenny had a contented
look on her face. All seven voices, in isolation from each other, had now been recorded, to the best of her and Brother Chad’s ability. That felt very, very good.
“Now comes the hard part,” Brother Chad said. “Do you know how far into the symphony all seven voices are in perfect sync, in my opinion?”
“How
far?”
“Two
bars.”
Jenny looked sad.
“Yes, we have a lot of work to do.” He caused the musical notations for all seven voices to be displayed together, one on top of the other. Then he had the computer play the four seconds he felt were properly aligned. “Do you like what you hear so far?”
“Gosh. I’ve never heard it all together before.”
“So we’re going to have to use my musical knowledge and your musical insight.”
“I
think it’s right so far...”
Then he had the computer play the first six bars. The corresponding notes were highlighted on the screen.
“Something
is wrong in bar three!”
“You can hear it too? Remember our agreement: you always have to tell me what you think needs changing before I make any suggestions.”
“Um... I think it’s Voice Five. It’s slipping behind.”
“Do I shorten this note?”
“No. Take out the rest at the end of bar two.”
He did, and the six bars replayed.
“Oh my God!” Brian said, for the first time realizing the incredible complexity of Jenny’s symphony. The twelve seconds of music he had just heard were beautiful... more then beautiful, they were truly great. He looked at Jenny with wide eyes and a big smile.
Jenny was smiling too. Her life dream was starting to come true. She was going to be able to hear all the voices of her music played together... if she lived long enough to make the necessary corrections. She was determined to live long enough, even if it required every drug in the world, and she planned to tell that to Doctor Kenneth.
They continued working until Jenny was exhausted from the mental effort and could no longer think. It was 3:30, and they had about forty seconds of the music properly aligned. Toward the end, they had had to make two or three corrections at some places to get the next few bars to fit together properly.
“Let’s end with a final playback of what we think we have right, and we’ll start tomorrow by making any needed corrections in that part before moving on.”
Jenny listened. She couldn’t believe she had played the music she was hearing. In a sense she hadn’t. Only the computer, or seven musicians, could play it all together. And yet all of the voices came from her... or maybe it was more fair to say that they came through her. She knew for a certainty that she had not composed the music, although she couldn’t say who had.
“There’s something in about the middle that bothers me a little.”
“Sleep on it. We’ll look at it tomorrow.”
“Want to go to a movie tonight?” Brian asked.
Jenny closed her tired eyes. “As long as it’s not a musical!”
Brother Chad laughed heartily while slipping an archive disk into the computer.
That Saturday was the last day of evaluation week at Lyceum. A cold rain had been falling for days and it was well-known that the evaluation group had had a miserable campout two days before. Most of them seemed to have taken it in stride.
The group had joined the worship and reflection time in Terrabithia Hall.
Liberty had heard that it was a solid group from which many new members were expected. On her way to breakfast, a skinny freckled girl of about twelve or thirteen suddenly caught up with her.
“Hi. I’m Charleen.”
“I’m Liberty. Your last day of evals?”
“Yeah. Can I sit with you at breakfast?”
“Um... sure... except that I have to get some trays and go to the Small Animal Barn. You can come, I guess.”
“All the teacher said was we had to sit with members!”
Liberty liked her courage. “That’s what you’ll be doing! Just stick with me and I’ll show you where we get trays when we have to eat some place else.”
Liberty led Charleen into the kitchen, and together they made three breakfasts from a short row of serving pans.
“How come you’re eating in the barn?”
“A friend of mine has a llama that just had surgery, and a sick goat, and a tortoise about to hibernate, and anyway I have to see if anyone needs help with the horses.”
“You work with horses?” she asked, eyes big with admiration.
“Uh huh. You like horses?”
“Yeah,
lots!”
“Good. We need more people who love animals. Ready?”
They put insulating covers over their hot food and headed back to the Residential Lobby and then along the roofed pathway to the Demonstration Farm and Zoo. As soon as they were outside and no one else was around, Charleen tried to put her concern into words.
“I was wondering if, you know, there are any, um, cute boys here?”
Liberty smiled to herself. “Yep. You’re about to meet one. He’s taken, but there are others.” For the rest of the walk to the Horse Barn, Liberty thought about the unattached boys, wondering which ones might like Charleen. They entered the barn and Liberty saw that Sister Claire was cleaning Rosie’s hooves.
“Hi, Claire! Need a hand with anything?”
“Want to do Strawberry’s hooves?” the horse lady said with a slightly sadistic grin.
“No, I’m not feeling suicidal today.”
Liberty noticed that Charleen was grinning. The current exchange was not going over her head. Liberty was glad.
“Bring me the can of bag balm, Lib, and a curved hoof knife please.”
Liberty got Sister Claire the needed tools, and then talked to the old horse while her hooves were being finished.
“Thanks. That’s all for now... I just wanted to finish her hooves and salve this scratch on her flank.”
“Sister Claire, this is Charleen. She’s in the evaluation group.”
“Good to meet you, Charleen. And good luck to you!”
“If I get to live here, I think I’d like to work some with animals.”
“Fantastic! Then Liberty and I will be praying for you extra hard. See you guys later. I’m gonna go eat.”
Sister Claire left, and the two girls picked up their trays from the hay bales where they had set them and continued through the Horse Barn.
“That’s Strawberry, and that’s Blackberry. Raspberry must be in the pasture. I don’t work with them yet — you have to have special permission.”
“How do you get that?”
“They’ll let you know when they trust you enough.”
“Who?” Charleen said, getting a little confused.
“The
horses!”
Liberty could tell the girl was rolling that idea around in her head as they made their way to the Small Animal Barn.
After setting the three trays in the office, they went to find Jason.
“Hi, handsome!” Liberty said to the boy who was checking all the sheep for scours.
“Hi, Lib! I’ll be done in a sec.”
“Breakfast is here. How’s Juanita?”
“Good. A little tenderness, but she’s digesting her food.”
“We’ll be in the office.”
Liberty introduced the prospective member to some of the animals, and then they ducked into the heated room. Jason entered a moment later.
“Charleen was asking me about cute boys. I’ve been trying to think who would be right for her.”
“Shawn?” Jason speculated, digging into his eggs and hash browns.
“Are you religious?” Liberty asked Charleen.
“Um... maybe a tiny bit...”
“Maybe not Shawn,” Jason corrected himself.
“Anyway, I’m not absolutely sure he’s available,” Liberty said. “I think I could see her with Brian. What do you think?”
“Oh, yes, perfect, at least... after... you know.”
“Huh?” Charleen said, hoping for a little insight into who they were talking about.
Liberty attempted to explain without divulging sensitive information.
“Brian’s... um... on an assignment right now that doesn’t allow him to... how do I say this... get into relationships. But that assignment is expected to end in a few months. Brian is really sweet. And totally cute.”
“How old is he?”
“Thirteen in January.”
“Same
as
me!”
“Great!” Liberty said.
During the remainder of their breakfast they talked about Charleen’s preference in boys, and about hibernating tortoises, and about horses who were smart enough to choose their own pet people. Charleen could hardly quit laughing. Liberty and Jason smiled, but didn’t laugh.
Soon Charleen had to head back to the Conference Center to rejoin her evaluation group for more tests and a question and answer period. She thanked Liberty and Jason for the information, and carried their trays back to the Dining Hall. Liberty stayed to help Jason with the goats.
Walking back to the main buildings alone, Charleen wondered what Brian would be like... and what possible assignment he could be on that didn’t allow him to have relationships. Probably something to do with meditating all day, she decided. It didn’t matter. She hoped to meet him someday, and any other cute boys who lived at Lyceum, like maybe Shawn, whom she gathered was very religious. But first she had to get accepted. She quickened her pace so she wouldn’t be late to the next evaluation group session.
In one of the few conference rooms not being used by visiting groups, eight chairs were arranged in a circle, each containing a Lyceum member. A light snow was falling outside the conference room’s windows.
“Let’s start by talking about what Marty has been doing. Please save specific problem areas for a little later,” Brother Paul said. “Brian?”
“We like to explore the library, go to something in the Planetarium, sometimes sit in on a class. We just do the class if we pass one and it sounds interesting to him. This week it was Diplomatic Mediation. Last week it was Astronomy.”
“Thank you. Sarah?”
“We just... test each other. I don’t push any more than I have to, you know, to keep him from walking on me. But I’m afraid of what will happen if he tries pushing on other people.”
“Okay, there’s a problem area to discuss. April?”
“He likes to watch me work in the Clinic, asking me about the herbs and things I’m using. He made his first infusion this week: peppermint tea. We had our own little tea party and he loved it. Sometimes we watch a movie. He likes action.”
“Thank you. Joan?”
“Almost entirely Bio Lab. He already has several culture dishes going and a small planter with a variety of things sprouting or expected to sprout soon.”
“Great! Shawn?”
“Chemistry Lab doing demo experiments. And we like to go on walks, and if we go anywhere near the Hall of Shrines, he always likes to peek in.”
“Fascinating. Phil?”
“We spend our time in the Production and Maintenance Pavilion doing all kinds of different things from wood working to matching up odd nuts and bolts. He loves it!”
“Okay. Henry?”
“Bouncing balls around in the Recreation Center seems to be our ice-breaker. Sometimes we’ll watch the gymnasts or the dancers. He looks at the pools and water slides with interest, but hasn’t yet asked to try them.”
“Thank you, Now that we all have a general sense of what our little prodigy is doing, we’ll move on to concerns, and if possible, brainstorm solutions. Sarah already expressed an area of concern. What you said, Sarah, probably sounded a little strange to those here who don’t know you very well yet. But if we’re going to succeed with Marty, everyone here is going to have to have a better understanding of what you were talking about, because, as you indicated, it involves Marty.”
“Jeez... it’s not something I talk about much. Marty is telepathic, but he hasn’t learned any, you know, self-discipline.”
Several mouths opened.
“I’m going to ask you some questions to help clarify for others here, even though I know most of the answers. Okay?”
“Sure.”
“Are you and Marty able to speak to each other telepathically?”
“Yeah. We hardly use talk at all during our morning together.”
Soft noises of astonishment ran around the room.
“Are you and Marty equally telepathic?”
“No. I’m doing about nine-tenths of the work. But it was like that with me and Sister Rachael when I first came here when I was six.”
“Does Marty enjoy his time with you?”
“He loves having someone to telepath with. But he doesn’t like me one bit.
That’s why he’s so testy and pushy with me, I guess.”
“You mean something very specific when you say ‘pushy’ don’t you?”
“Uh huh. He pushes into my mind, without asking, and without being very nice about it, just like I did to people when I was little.”
A few sounds of recognition were heard.
“As I suspected, Sarah, several other members of our team have experienced this already, but perhaps didn’t know how to interpret it or what to do about it. They need your help to understand the phenomenon. Would you be willing to demonstrate what it feels like to have a telepath ‘push’ into your mind?”
“Hmmm. I guess so. I’ve been taught not to do it, and I understand why now. Sister Rachael had to really push back to show me how rotten it felt when I was six and seven and didn’t have much self-discipline. I learned!”
“But in this case it will be for an important purpose and with everyone’s permission.”
Everyone in the room nodded, some more quickly than others.
“I guess everyone needs to know what it feels like.”
“Try to do it with about the same amount of force that Marty uses with you.”
“Okay.”
“Phil, will you go first?” Brother Paul asked.
“No
problem.”
Sarah
pushed.
Brother Phil felt all the emotions that would come up if someone was right in his face, waving their arms, sticking out their tongue, and calling him
names.
“Whoa!” Phil exclaimed, momentarily reeling. “Yep, Marty’s done that to me,” Phil said. “And you, Sarah, could do that ten times worse if you wanted to?”
“Yes, but I won’t,” Sarah said.
“Good!”
“Shawn, you are very close to Sarah, so remember this is nothing personal,” Brother Paul said.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
The moment Sarah began to push at Shawn’s mind, all the terrible feelings of being chased and trapped back in Greenville came rushing at him. He closed his eyes and felt like crying, but it was over as soon as it started. He felt someone take his hands, and opened his eyes to see Sarah kneeling in front of him with concern on her face.
“I’m sorry!” she said.
“It’s okay,” he said, hugging her in reassurance. “It isn’t your fault that I’m always remembering what my dad did.” He looked at Brother Paul. “Marty hasn’t done that to me.”
“Interesting. Is this okay with you, Joan?”
Sarah continued around the room. Joan and Henry were particularly bothered by the experience, but Brian hardly noticed it. It turned out that Marty had never used his telepathic abilities with Shawn, April, or Henry.
The team discussed this situation, and came up with several possible explanations for why some were experiencing Marty’s telepathic pushing and some weren’t.
“Now we need to talk about what our response should be,” Paul said.
“We’re not going to make his telepathic abilities go away,” Henry said.
“We need to correct him when he’s intrusive and disrespectful, and compliment him when he does it nicely.”
“I’ve been taught not to do it at all unless I get permission,” Sarah said.
April, who usually said little at the meetings, spoke next. “That makes sense. It’s not like talking that is easy to ignore. It’s more like shouting. And if you shout at people, they’ll shout back or hit you. Marty has to learn that.”
“Marty may not be ready to only do it with prior permission,” Paul said.
“We can hopefully move him in that direction.”
The discussion continued. As was usually the case at Lyceum, neither Brother Paul nor anyone else set any hard and fast rules. All of the persons on the team were members of Lyceum, and so were expected to be able to take the concepts that had been shared and implement them in their work with Marty.
A couple of other lesser concerns were discussed, and then Brother Paul closed the session.
“We have no meeting next week. Marty leaves tomorrow for the holidays, and so most of you won’t be able to implement these ideas until January.
Thank you, everyone, for your excellent work and your thoughtful feedback.
Shall we go to lunch?”
Everyone nodded and sprang from their chairs.
Ashley happened to be in the inner office when Mrs. Clark arrived. She recognized the voice, and it’s volume. She had no desire to see the fat lady again, and was tempted to slip out the side door into the corridor to the Residential Lobby. But she knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.
“...so you’d like to combine your weeks like you did last time, and stay for two weeks again? That would be great! We have lots of holiday programs scheduled,” Sister Judy said.
“Actually, since I missed November, I’d like to stay for three weeks.
Winter is so nasty in South Dakota!”
Sister Judy considered. Lyceum always gave the benefit of the doubt in any question of credit to the visitor. “I understand completely. I’ll reserve your room for three weeks, and get you the correct number of meal coupons.
Also, I see here that you and your daughter are invited to the Christmas Banquet and the New Year’s Party.”
“Oh, um, I don’t think Jenny would enjoy it if I were there. But the dining room will be open on those nights, won’t it?”
Several unsavory names passed through Ashley’s mind as she continued to listen from the inner office.
“Yes, the Garden Dining Room will be open,” Sister Judy said, completely disguising her disappointment in the large lady.
Mrs. Clark was falling right into the trap they had set. Ashley decided it was time to give Judy a hand. She stepped through the door that led out to the Information and Assistance Counter while looking down at some papers she was carrying, pretending not to know that Jenny’s mother was there.
Then she looked up.
“Oh, Hello, Mrs. Clark!”
“Hello, Sister Ashmore!”
“Ashley.”
“That’s right! How is my poor little daughter?”
A lot richer than you are — except in body mass. “She was sick earlier this month, but pulled through. She’ll be glad you’re here. She really is looking forward to going to the Christmas Banquet and the New Year’s Party with you.
She even told me that if you weren’t able to go to those events with her, she wouldn’t want to go, and would just eat in the dining room instead.”
A smirk flashed onto Sister Judy’s face for a moment. She was starting to understand what had been contrived.
Mrs. Clark realized she couldn’t avoid her embarrassing daughter on those occasions. If she tried to eat in the dining room, Jenny would just follow her there. “Oh, um, gosh... I guess in that case I’ll have to make every effort to go.”
“I’ll carry your luggage to your room. You had dinner on the train?”
“Oh, yes, but it was just a light snack...”
Ashley looked at Sister Judy. “Could we get a tray brought to Mrs. Clark’s room? Her preferences are still in the computer, I believe.”
“Of course!” the other member said, knowing Ashley was referring to the high fiber, low calorie diet Brother Kenneth had put together.
Ashley picked up the bulging suitcases, and the massive lady waddled along behind. She would never dream of moving away from Rapid City, South Dakota, as it was where she had been born, and the welfare system there knew her and took care of her. But it was very nice to be in a milder climate, and to be looking forward to three weeks of ease and tasty restaurant food that she had so intelligently conned out of these unsuspecting people. All she had to do was suffer through a banquet and a party with her sickly daughter. That, she figured, would be better than being seen with her in the dining room.
Liberty went early to her first Environmental Control Technician shift.
She wanted everything to go smoothly. She knew she was not ready to run the Ecumenical Temple or the Arena or any of Lyceum’s other large facilities all alone. She was glad her first solo shift was just in a small section of Conference Center Two.
She entered the control booth and brought all her equipment on-line and started diagnostics. Wandering through the room, she listened to the sound system go through its test tones and samples of music and speech. Everything sounded good. The lights dimmed properly and the projection systems went through their paces. All looked good. The room partitions closed, and then opened again smoothly and silently. She sat down to read through the conference specifications again.
Church elders. Quarterly presentation to their Council of Bishops. Video, speech with amplification, break with deluxe snacks, another video, round table discussion, audio disk, closing speech, then off to dinner.
It should be an easy three hours, Liberty thought. She grabbed the remote control and tapped in a five degree drop in room temperature. They would be coming in from outside, and she knew it was best to warm them up slowly.
Then she wandered around the room again, thinking. Something wasn’t right.
The lighting was too cool. Liberty lowered the color temperature to a nice, yellow two thousand degrees, and turned on perimeter accent lighting at twelve hundred degrees to simulate candlelight. Much more cozy. Then she considered background music for the reception and breaks. Something slightly churchy, but not too specific. She returned to the control booth to look over the selection.
She tried one disk while checking the supply cart of pens, pads of paper, and other useful items that sat by one wall, and decided the music was too old fashioned. Her second choice turned out to be just right. Then she pulled out her pager and tapped in a number.
“Kitchen. This is Sister Jennifer.”
Liberty didn’t know Jennifer personally, but could vaguely attach her name to a happy face. “Hi, this is Liberty in Conference Center Two. I would like confirmation that a deluxe snack cart for twenty-five will arrive here at
three o’clock.”
“I’ll
check,
Liberty.”
“Thanks,
Jennifer.”
Liberty adjusted the placement of a few chairs while waiting.
“Confirmed. It’s being put together now.”
“Thanks. Any good movies playing anywhere tonight?”
“I
think The Hunchback of Notre Dame is playing in my hall tonight.
Want to come?”
It sounded religious, but Liberty felt the need for some company, and all her usual friends were busy or off campus that evening. “Okay!”
“Fantasia Hall, eight o’clock. It’ll be fun to make a new friend. Thanks for asking, Liberty.”
“My conference is about to arrive. See you there!”
“Bye! I’ll make sure your cart arrives on time.”
Five minutes later the church elders and bishops poured in, shedding wet coats and umbrellas. Liberty, dressed in her finest, greeted them. They were all late middle-aged men, and most gave her a second look while ostensibly reading the name and title pinned to her left shoulder.
“Very nice facilities, Matthew. Good choice.”
“Yes. I’ve used the place before. They gave me a good price, but I made sure everything would be top-notch.” He brought the three disks out of his briefcase and approached Liberty. “These go in numbered order. You have our program?”
“Yes. Would you like a pause control for the presentations?”
“No. We want to go straight through all of them.”
Liberty smiled, nodded, and took the disks to the control booth.
Soon the men got settled, and the leader had a few opening words, for which Liberty added a slight amplification, and started bringing the room temperature up slowly. Then he introduced the first video, and Liberty dimmed the room lights simultaneously with fading in the video projection.
“Stop! That’s the wrong video! Technician! I said numbered order!”
Liberty stepped out of the booth and meet the man who was storming in that direction. “That is number one, Sir.”
“Couldn’t be! Do we need to get a man to run the equipment? Start it
again and bring me the other two disks! I’ll show you that you must have put in number two!”
Sexist asshole. Liberty knew she had the right disk in. Egotistical idiot.
She reentered the booth, pressed play much harder than she needed to, and grabbed the other disks. As soon as she stepped out, he snatched them from her. Arrogant bastard.
He looked at the disks, but his mouth stayed shut. In the silence that ensued, Liberty crafted her next sentence. It was as nice as she was willing to be.
“Perhaps, Sir, it was a man who mislabeled your disks.” She could see as well as he that the disks in his hands were numbers two and three. Only number one could be in the player. With her remote control, she stopped the projection. “Would you like me to swap the positions of numbers one and two, Sir?”
“You owe her an apology, Matthew,” one of the other men said in a stern voice.
“I’m sorry. Yes, please, they must have gotten mislabeled.”
Liberty returned to the control booth and started video disk number two.
Many other names for the man ran through her mind, and a number of devious tactics tempted her, such as dropping the room’s temperature by ten or fifteen degrees. But she resisted them, and by the time the first video was over, had settled down enough to properly adjust the amplification for the speech that followed.
The rest of the conference went smoothly, the snack cart arrived on time, and the men filtered out for dinner at 4:30, several of them slipping Liberty tips that totaled over two hundred dollars. She figured it was their way of apologizing for their rude comrade.
When they had all gone, she plopped down in a chair. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her hands shook from the pain of the man’s thoughtless comments. But she was smiling. She had been tested, and she had carried out her work like a Lyceum member should. That was more important to her than anything else. She planned to find Jennifer early that evening and tell her what had happened, and then enjoy that movie, religious or not.
Chapter 22: The Time of the Stable
Thursday, December 21st. Everyone at Lyceum was working hard to prepare for several scheduled holiday programs, numerous special conferences, and the expected seasonal increase in visitors. Ashley had just finished coaching her beginning gymnastics class and was heading for dinner.
Her pager chimed.
“Ashley
here.”
“Phone call, Ashley.”
“Thanks.”
“Ashley, this is Tim!”
“Hi! There’s a package in the mail for you.”
“I won’t get it for awhile.”
“Why
not?”
“My mom asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I said I wanted to visit you at Lyceum, and after thinking about it, she said okay!”
“Wow! Fantastic!”
“I was really lucky to get a seat on a flight. I’m at the New Orleans Airport now. I’ll land in Portland at ten o’clock. Can you meet me?”
“Tonight? Just a few hours from now? That’s wonderful! Of course I’ll meet you, even if I have to walk!”
“Flight 435. See you then. Me and my mom are having dinner together before my flight. Bye! I love you!”
“I love you too!”
She ran all the way to the office to see who was driving to Portland and back that evening.
Ashley was thrilled when she learned that a helicopter flight was scheduled that evening to take a group of U.N. diplomats and a couple of heads of state and their guards and secretaries to the airport, and that the crew was quite willing to hang around the airport an extra half hour so that Ashley could meet Tim.
As soon as Ballet class was over, she showered and dressed nicely, as requested. She would be helping the co-pilot with any needs the passengers might have. When she arrived at the heliport, Brother John Michael was checking all the supplies and Sister Tomasa was going over the bird’s mechanical systems thoroughly.
“Greeting, Sister Ashley!” the co-pilot said. “Our passengers will be here in half an hour. Familiarize yourself with where everything is, and I’ll run through some procedures with you as soon as I get us all stocked.”
Ashley explored the inside of Lyceum’s largest helicopter, which could comfortably carry twelve passengers in addition to the pilots. She also found a small fold-down seat in the back by the restroom, and she had a hunch that would be her seat. Then she made mental notes on the locations of fire extinguishers, air sickness bags, emergency escape hatches, and extra toilet paper. She had never thought about being a flight attendant before, but suddenly she realized it would be a good way to see the world.
“Okay, the main thing I’d like you to help with is safety belts. We’ve got bad weather all over the place tonight, so we’ll be asking the passengers to keep their belts on part of the time. You will be the exception, of course. If a world-class gymnast doesn’t have good balance, no one does!”
Ashley laughed. “But wouldn’t a van be safer in this stormy weather?”
“We suggested that, but they insisted on a helicopter ride. The top of the storm system is at eight thousand, so we’ll probably just fly over it. They’ll love Mount Hood poking above the clouds in the moonlight.”
“This bird is in tip top shape, as far as I can tell!” Sister Tomasa said from somewhere outside. “I’m going to start the engines and make sure they purr,”
she said, climbing into the pilot’s seat. “Hello, Ashley!”
“Hi!”
The black lady started flipping switches and going down her checklists.
John Michael motioned for Ashley to step outside.
“I should have asked you. Have you flown before?”
As they spoke, the helicopter’s twin jet engines started.
“Oh, yes, many times. But my first helicopter flight was the scariest, because we were running late and had to board with the rotors already turning!”
“That can be unnerving. We won’t be doing that little trick tonight.”
“Good.”
“I think our guests are approaching. Let’s look sharp and greet them with all possible respect and grace. Remember, our passengers include a king and a prime minister.”
Ashley swallowed. Sister Tomasa lowered the speed of the engines until they gave only a moderate hum. Ashley could see Brother Kyle in the Heliport Control Room above them. He waved and she smiled back. Then she turned her attention to the approaching diplomats and leaders.
Sister Tomasa joined them, and they all shook hands and welcomed their passengers. The king kissed Ashley’s hand, and the prime minister bowed to her. She was sure she was blushing. The king was, she thought, quite handsome and not all that old. Then one of the U.N. diplomats seemed to recognize her.
“Sister Ashley, right?”
“Yes.”
“Timoteo has mentioned you. You have a clearance already, don’t you?”
“Just
level
one.”
“That’s good. Getting some travel experience and working on additional clearances?”
Ashley thought of her courier mission and her Depth History class. “Yes. I was in Japan earlier this month.”
“Good. Keep at it. The diplomatic community needs strong people with good minds.”
He boarded, Ashley followed, and Brother John Michael secured the passenger door.
As soon as the co-pilot took his seat and put on his headset, he made his first announcement. “Gentlemen, due to the rough weather we expect, please use your safety belts. We hope for a smooth trip as soon as we get above the clouds, and some beautiful scenery.”
Ashley went through the cabin, making sure everyone was belted in. She had to help one rather old diplomat with his safety belt. The dark-eyed king smiled at her, and she returned his grin.
Soon the dome over the landing pad was being opened, and rain began pelting the helicopter’s windows. Sister Tomasa engaged the rotor, slowly increased its speed, and finally took them up into the rainy, cloudy sky.
The rocking and buffeting began almost immediately, and visibility quickly dropped to zero. From her seat in the back of the cabin, Ashley could see that the co-pilot was very busy with his instruments. She grabbed a couple of air sickness bags and began to work her way through the cabin, asking each person how they were doing. One of the diplomats noticed her bags and motioned for her to give him one. The king and the prime minister, however, seemed right at home. Again the handsome king smiled at her.
Suddenly they burst through the top of the clouds and the flight became smooth as glass. Everyone made sounds of delight as they looked out the windows at the awesome scene around them. The peaks of the Cascades, with the eleven thousand foot volcano predominating, glowed brilliant white in the moonlight, all surrounded by a sea of clouds. Bright stars dotted the heavens, and the moon was an almost perfectly round orb in the sky.
Ashley began with the two heads of state, as she supposed was proper, asking each if they would like a beverage or light snack. She served five soft drinks on ice, offered an assortment of crackers and cookies to each passenger, and provided a half sandwich to one diplomat. The king’s magnetic smile was beginning to make Ashley feel a little embarrassed.
About fifteen minutes later Sister Tomasa could be heard talking to the airport. “PDX tower, this is Ranger K371 requesting guidance for instrument landing from eight thousand feet.”
“K371, your guidance beam is on. You will be landing at pad E-12. You are cleared for a vertical approach from eight thousand feet.”
“Thank you PDX tower. Please advise status of flight 6-7-5 to New York
and flight 4-3-5 from New Orleans.”
“Flight 675 scheduled to depart on time at 10:15. Flight 435 running fifteen minutes late, expected to land at 10:15.”
“Thank you PDX tower. K371 clear.”
Sister Tomasa guided the helicopter to a certain point above the sea of clouds. It looked the same as all other points above the insubstantial surface.
Brother John Michael activated his microphone.
“Gentlemen, we are now directly over Portland International Airport.
Please secure your safety belts. Our descent will take about two minutes.”
Ashley went through the cabin again, checking belts and keeping her ears open for any other needs. One man needed more crackers. Soon they reentered the clouds, and the buffeting began anew.
Less than a minute later, Ashley realized that the diplomat who had eaten the half sandwich shouldn’t have. She took him some towels and sealed his air sickness bag, handing him another one just in case. The prime minister looked fine, and the king flashed her another smile, which she returned.
Visibility only returned when they were less than a hundred feet above the landing pad. The huge E concourse building loomed out of the mists nearby, and a large airliner could be seen landing on the runway. Sister Tomasa set the helicopter down inside the circle of lights that was landing pad E-12, without the slightest jolt, and disengaged the rotor.
“Welcome to Portland International Airport, gentlemen,” Brother John Michael said. “Your flight for New York leaves in forty minutes. An airport hospitality and security team is on hand to guide you and assist you while in the airport. We hope your visit to Lyceum was enjoyable, and we apologize for the unpleasant weather.”
As soon as the rotor stopped, a covered walkway was extended from the concourse building and Brother John Michael slid the passenger door open.
The airport team was there, ready to greet their V.I.P. passengers. Ashley made sure they got all their coats and briefcases, and followed the last diplomat out of the helicopter.
The airport team seemed slightly bothered, but the king, the prime minister, and the rest of the party lingered to shake hands again with their pilot, co-pilot, and flight attendant. Several tips were given, and last of all the
king approached Ashley and took her hand.
“Your beauty is beyond measure, young lady. I saw your gymnastics performances in Japan, and I was entranced. I am sorry you did not receive a medal, but I am happy for your teammate who did. You are welcome in my palace any time you can visit my country.”
Ashley was on the verge of tears. No one had ever spoken to her with so much admiration and respect before. The king gestured to his secretary, who brought out an autographed picture of His Majesty. He gestured again, and the aide added a hundred dollar bill to the parting gift. Then the king kissed her hand, smiled for the last time, and turned and entered the concourse building.
Sister Tomasa stepped beside Ashley and put her arm around the youth, who was still somewhat in a state of shock. “There aren’t many world leaders like him anymore.”
“Did you hear what he said? I’m welcome in his palace!”
“Just be careful. He might add you to his harem.”
Ashley giggled. “His country doesn’t have harems,” she said, remembering a lesson in her History class.
“We’ve got some time before your friend arrives. Let’s get our machine tidied up and then go bum around the airport. There’s a place that has awesome cookies!”
Ashley collected all the trash that had been created during the flight, while the pilot and co-pilot checked all their mechanical and electrical systems.
Then they entered the concourse building and soon located Sister Tomasa’s cookies.
“Want to add a Flight Attendant credential to your book, Ashley?” John Michael asked.
She thought for a moment. She knew her schedule was tight, but she didn’t want to pass up any opportunities, especially when they had to do with travel or languages. “That would be fun!”
“Class is Mondays at one.”
“I’m free then.”
When they had finished eating their cookies, they wandered to the gate where Tim’s flight was expected, and a few minutes later his plane landed. As
soon as he emerged from the boarding tunnel he ran to her and they held each other tightly, both remembering the sweet moments they had already shared, only made sweeter by the intervals between. After a long minute they finally separated and looked at each other.
“Did you have to walk?” he asked.
“Nope!” Ashley said, glancing at the pilot and co-pilot standing nearby, and looking forward to being a flight attendant one more time that evening.
Senator Michael Buchanan arrived at Lyceum two days before Christmas.
He flew into Portland International, made contact with a certain person at Lyceum, did some Christmas shopping, and was waiting outside of the Planetarium Theater when Liberty finished her third solo Environmental Control Technician shift.
The audience filtered out, obviously impressed by the historical lecture they had just attended, which included holographic re-enactments that the lecturer could literally stroll through as she narrated. Liberty shut down all her projectors and other systems, collected the disks that had done most of the work, and stepped out of the control booth.
“Very nicely done, Liberty. Thank you. I hope we get to work together again soon,” the lecturer, a white-haired lady of about sixty said, handing the technician half of the tips she had just received.
“Thank you. I really learned a lot from it, both history and technical stuff.
Cross-fading holograms is much harder than simple projections!”
“You did well. Is this gentleman waiting for you?”
Liberty looked through the entrance door. “Daddy!” She ran into his open arms.
“Well, well, how’s my girl? Learning some pretty serious skills, it sounds like. Cross-fading holograms is way over my head!”
“Sister Martha, this is Senator Michael Buchanan, my father.”
They shook hands. “Glad to meet you, Senator. I’m Dr. Martha Goldstein.
Liberty is rapidly becoming proficient with some of the most sophisticated control systems on the planet. She is a pleasure to work with.”
“And I just made almost a hundred dollars in tips, Daddy, which brings my total for the week to over four hundred!”
“Wow. I am very proud. I might be coming to you for a loan if the Senate has to take another pay cut.”
“Not all weeks are so lucrative, of course,” Sister Martha said. “I must be going. Wonderful to meet you, Senator.”
“Likewise, Doctor. And thank you for working with my mischievous daughter.”
“I am not, Daddy!” Liberty said as Sister Martha headed down the corridor.
“Sure you are. You always have been, and you will have a hard time convincing me that you have become a perfect angel just by living at Lyceum for a few months.”
“Well... I did get my first security mission stamp by having friends pin tails on the suit coats of a bunch of church men...”
“You’ll have to tell me all about that one! But first, give me your evaluation of the place. Do you like it here, or should Mr. Neils dig out the information on that place in Texas?”
Liberty burst out laughing. “Mr. Neils... can burn the stuff... as far as I’m concerned!”
“That’s good to hear. Actually, I think he has already done so.”
“Good!”
At that moment, Sister Nancy arrived, immediately slipped her arm around the senator and kissed him. Liberty’s mouth fell open.
“Daddy! What’s going on? What haven’t you been telling me?”
“Well, Honey... um... we didn’t want to have you jump to any conclusions until we had... um... worked out most of the details ourselves.”
Sister Nancy was grinning from ear to ear, but didn’t feel the need to say anything.
“How long have you guys... been seeing each other?” Liberty asked, looking at them askance.
“Um... actually, ever since we met last summer. But you have to understand, Liberty, that it’s not like we’ve been together constantly or anything like that. We have seen each other when we could, when Nancy was coming through New York or Washington, or when I had to be on the west coast for a few days.”
Sister Nancy said, “Now do you see why I was so touched when you said what you did at our last mentor meeting?”
Liberty looked from Nancy to her father and back. “Yeah. Because it really might come true...”
“I’m lost,” her father said.
“Do you... tell my dad things I tell you?” Liberty, with a suspicious expression on her face, asked Nancy, ignoring her father’s comment.
“No, Liberty. I never have and I never will, even if your father and I get married, which... we are discussing.”
Liberty took a moment to absorb her mentor’s statement about possible marriage, but wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet, so she decided to stick with the original issue. She smiled. “Thank you. I didn’t think you would, but I wanted to be sure.”
“Well,” Michael Buchanan said, “now that we are all up to date, shall we go get some dinner? And you, young lady, can tell me all about that security mission stamp you earned.”
They started walking down the corridor together, the senator with one arm around each of the two ladies he loved most in the world.
“I can’t tell you much, Daddy, because it’s an on-going investigation, and we believe the perpetrators are going to make another attempt.”
“I see. Well, I don’t want you to break confidentiality ethics.”
“Actually,” Nancy said, “there could be some very good reasons for sharing this particular situation with your father. Why don’t we all go talk to Brother Fred after dinner?”
Liberty was feeling very content as they entered the Main Lobby. She was glad that Sister Nancy and her father were dating. They seemed somehow just right for each other, and she could tell that they were both happy. Now all she had to do was figure out how to tell her father about Jason, and the possible changes that might be happening soon in her own life...
Christmas Eve was very busy for everyone. Those not directly involved with programs being presented by Lyceum, or helping with events put on by other organizations, were kept busy in the kitchen or the Lodge, on the vans or the helicopters, in the Recreation Center or the Art Gallery.
Liberty had baking shifts, Control Technician assignments, and an extra horse care job. Ashley was dancing in two events that day, had a Children’s Program shift, a few kitchen hours, and was on-call for French interpreting.
Shawn was working in the Gallery, would be in and out of his choir robe all day long, and had a Library shift.
And something was gnawing at Shawn’s heart, something deeply personal.
He had met Ashley’s parents in November, and now her boyfriend Tim was there. They looked very happy, especially when they went off together toward Ashley’s room at night with eyes only for each other. He had seen Liberty’s father arrive, and Liberty had already announced to all her friends that her father and Sister Nancy were thinking of getting married. And Jason was at Liberty’s side whenever possible, helping with her baking as she had helped him with his animals. Also, Sarah’s mother was on campus, and everyone else Shawn knew seemed to have parents or friends of one sort or another visiting.
He dragged himself through the day, not finding the courage yet to fully admit to himself that he was in the dumps, much less share his feelings with others. It was Christmas, and he knew he should be happy. He kept a smile on his face and did all his work well.
But his feelings were reaching critical proportions as he finished his last responsibility of the day, singing in the choir during Lyceum’s Christmas Eve Pageant. It ended a few minutes after midnight, and most of the other choir members dashed off to bed to get as much sleep as possible before the even grander Christmas Sunrise Celebration latter that morning.
Shawn didn’t much care. He felt lost and lonely. He hung up his choir robe and wandered listlessly toward his room. Where were his parents? Why wouldn’t his mother write back to him? Why couldn’t his father at least send him a Christmas card, instead of hired men to kidnap him?
Arriving at his apartment, he realized he didn’t want to stay there. No caring parent or trusted friend or tender lover was there for him, and it felt empty and cold. He pulled a heavy coat out of his closet and headed back outside.
The cold night air felt good on his face, but his heart still ached. Why was there never a girl at his side, holding his hand, kissing him, sharing in his
work and play? He looked up. Misty clouds drifted through the tops of the trees. Occasionally a star peeked through, just for a moment.
Why, Jesus, why am I always alone? Why isn’t there anyone for me?
No answer came. He hadn’t expected any. Deep inside he knew it wasn’t the kind of prayer that had a simple answer. But he felt a little better for the asking.
His feet started moving again, and soon he found himself near the Horse Barn. He hadn’t intended to go that way. It was the last place he would expect to find someone to talk to at that hour. But the nightlight inside cast a warm, inviting glow. He couldn’t think of anything else to do, so he went in.
Some of the horses were standing and others were lying down, slightly on one side with their legs tucked under them, as horses and other large animals do. He came to the stall where all three of the spirited Arabian horses liked to sleep. They were all there, all down in the straw leaning against each other for warmth.
“Hi,
Blackberry.”
One horse looked up, made a low noise, and then lowered her head back beside Strawberry’s flank.
Shawn stood there, looking at the three contented animals, secure in each other’s company. He needed a little bit of that warmth and companionship at that moment, more than anything else in the world, and he realized that maybe God had led him to the barn because that was where he needed to be.
He opened the gate to the stall and slipped in.
Raspberry lifted her head, recognized him, and relaxed. He sat down in the straw near the large animals, and could feel their body warmth and smell their musky aroma.
Suddenly Blackberry shifted her position, leaving a wedge of space between herself and Raspberry. Shawn saw that the space was just the right size for him. With a little fear, and a great deal of faith, he crawled into that space and laid his head on Blackberry’s back. The horse made a soft sound deep in her throat, and that sound seemed comforting to Shawn. He closed his eyes, and was soon fast asleep. He never knew that several warm tears fell from his cheeks into Blackberry’s shaggy winter coat.
All the work and exciting activities and visitors on Christmas Eve would have caused many circles of friends to overlook one of their kind. But this particular circle of friends was composed of three Lyceum members who had bonded during their first day together, had dragged each other through evaluation week, and had been accepted into their new home simultaneously.
In each of their minds, the presence of the other two was nearly inseparable from the idea of living and working at Lyceum.
Even with Tim at her side, Ashley didn’t feel quite ready to call it a night.
She had some Christmas blessings to bestow, and some gifts to deliver, and wouldn’t have even minded sharing a cup of hot chocolate or something with her closest friends. She steered Tim toward the office to use a computer terminal and see where they were.
Liberty had lingered in the Ecumenical Temple’s control room until everyone had departed, playing appropriate music and slowly dimming out section after section of lights. Her father and Sister Nancy had already come by and said good night, and Jason was waiting for her, but she felt incomplete.
It was Christmas, and even though it didn’t hold a deep religious meaning for her, she knew that both Shawn and Ashley were Christian. She felt the need to share something more with them before going to bed. She consulted the computer screen right beside her control panel. Ashley was in the office, but Shawn’s location seemed strange for the hour.
Others, too, were thinking of Shawn.
Three members of the Christianity class went by Shawn’s room, and not finding him, consulted the terminal in the lobby of his residence hall.
Two of his fellow Choir members wanted to deliver gifts. From their respective halls they requested his location from the sleepless information system.
A friend in Shawn’s Greek class had a card for him. Seeing Liberty and Jason crossing the Main Lobby, he asked where Shawn could be found.
One of Shawn’s fellow lab technicians spotted Ashley and Tim coming out of the office and inquired about Shawn’s location.
Although both Ashley and Liberty had been informed by the computer of Shawn’s whereabouts, they thought maybe it was a mistake. Perhaps Shawn had dropped his pager at some point during the day. They both decided to
first go by his apartment. Arriving at about the same time, they found gifts and cards piled around the door from people in Shawn’s General Science and Physics classes, from his Aerobics instructor, and from a member who also worked in the Library. A moment later Sister Rachael and Brother Jacob arrived, also bearing gifts and looking for Shawn.
But Sarah was the one who knew, in the most direct way, that something was not right with Shawn. Every time she had seen him or thought of him that evening, she had gotten the distinct impression that something was eating at him. Now that the Christmas Eve service was over, she knew he was absent... conspicuously absent. Her mind started searching for him in the way that only she, of all his friends, could do.
Shortly after one o’clock on that foggy Christmas morning, about a dozen people had quietly gathered in the Horse Barn to deliver gifts and cards to Shawn. Some of them bore the items that had been placed in front of Shawn’s door. Others brought invitations to hot chocolate gatherings or hot pool soaks. One brought Shawn’s large and full stocking from Avalon Hall’s recreation room. All of them now gazed over the railing into the stall of the three spirited horses, saw Shawn curled up there asleep under his heavy coat, and their hearts throbbed in their chests and tears threatened to burst from their eyes. But they remained quiet — no sound or noise seemed right for the occasion, any more than it would have in another barn more than two thousand years before.
After a few moments, the youngest person there opened the gate to the stall and crept in. Without hesitation she pulled the hood of her coat over her golden blond hair, curled up in the straw beside Shawn, and closed her eyes.
The others looked at each other, and without a word, all knew that they could do no more. Silently they filtered out.
When morning light began to grow in a clear winter sky, the horses one by one stood and wandered out into the pasture. His pillow having just walked away, Shawn sat up, blinked like an owl, and rubbed his sleepy eyes. Then he saw three wonderful sights at once.
He was not alone. There beside him, Sarah lay curled up, still dreaming.
She had spent several hours in a semi-wakeful state, but had finally drifted
into a light, dream-filled sleep. It was something she didn’t do very often, but when she did, it was a very special experience for her.
All around him, perched on fence posts and bales of hay and tack shelves, were gifts of all shapes and sizes, some wrapped and ribboned, some not, along with many cards and letters, and numerous edible goodies with ribbons around them. With a smile, Shawn’s mind was cast back to childhood images of Gepetto’s workshop.
And at that moment the rising sun kindled the treetops with a clear orange light that made Shawn’s heart leap. Everything in the universe that he could see or feel at that moment seemed so beautiful, so perfectly a part of God’s plan, so mysterious and grand compared to his silly feelings of loneliness the night before.
Just then Sarah yawned and opened her eyes. “Merry Christmas,” she said. “Is it morning?”
With a trembling hand Shawn reached out and touched her golden hair.
He wasn’t dreaming — she was really there. Suddenly he understood the joy Saint Francis must have felt when he was joined in his labors by Claire.
“Look!” he said. “We get some sunshine for Christmas!”
Sarah sat up. “Wow! And look at all the gifts and goodies!”
“I think angels have been here. And I think... I think this is the most beautiful Christmas I’ve ever had. God has given me everything I need, even though sometimes I can be... you know... pretty dense about realizing it.”
Suddenly he remembered a verse from the Bible, and it seemed to describe the moment perfectly, so he spoke it aloud. “Surely God was in this place, and I knew it not!”
Sarah smiled. “We were supposed to dance and sing in the program. Can we still make it?”
While glancing at his pager to see the time, Shawn realized with complete surety that if he didn’t go and join the choir, Sarah wasn’t going to leave him alone to do her dancing. Shawn knew, without a doubt, that he had a friend.
“If we hurry...”
“You
want
to?”
Shawn was silent for a moment. Then a smile crept onto his face. “Yes!
I’ve been given many things, and now it’s my turn to give in return!”
Side by side they ran all the way to the Ecumenical Temple, parting to dash into their respective preparation rooms.
Sister April, wearing a simple loose fitting robe of ancient Galilean design, knelt in prayer before a small table where candles flickered, while angels danced around her and the choir sang of her holy assignment. A choir member slipped in late, luckily just before his tenor section had an important passage, and was patted on the back by many welcoming hands.
As Ashley grabbed her bag of little scroll messages to distribute to the youth in the audience, she noticed their missing angel dancer slip in late and grab her bag. She flashed the other a smile, and pranced off to her section of the Temple.
Sister April undertook her nine month journey, circumambulating the floor of the Temple as many times, meeting and parting with friends and relatives, kneeling in prayer by herself, her face changing slowly from timid and unsure to strong and joyful, her gait going from slow and fearful steps to confident strides, her womb growing even as the audience watched. One assistant technician who knew she might have recently begun that same journey observed with wide eyes even as her fingers nimbly adjusted the lighting for which she was responsible.
Suddenly the scene changed, the lighting skillfully modified from sunny daylight to the dim, lantern-lit gloom of the stable. In the audience, a proud father glanced up toward the control room, and thought he could see the silhouette of his very talented daughter.
The angel dancers and white suited ushers fanned out in the rows of seats and escorted all the mothers with very young babes in arms down to the main circle of the Temple. Then the thirty-seven mother-child pairs sat on piles of hay or simple benches as Wise Men approached from the East... and the West, and the North, and the South. A comic scene ensued in which they puzzled over the fact that they sought one child, but had found dozens. The angels added to the fun by each pointing at a different child, and after a moment each changing their revelation to yet a different babe. The Magi pretended to be completely confused, and the audience howled with laughter. A message was there, and those saw it who had eyes to see.
One young dancer was being especially touched by the symbolic task she was performing. She remembered the very real courier bracelet with a possible effect upon seventeen million people. Such awesome responsibilities were a little scary to her, but she knew someone had to do them.
The message was not lost on two young men in the audience who had recently both found loves for the first time. The possible implications, both physical and spiritual, of their love making was mind-boggling to both of them. But luckily the strength of the bonds they both felt with their young ladies were equally as powerful.
One of the young men was a member of Lyceum. He had been preparing himself for great responsibilities for three years, seeing his fellow members commit themselves to service and diplomacy assignments that often risked great amounts of resources and sometimes their very lives. From his seat beside the senator, the father of his beloved, he glanced up at the control room and smiled.
The other young man was still thinking mostly in terms of the values and expectations of upper class New Orleans society. He loved his little lady who even then was dancing within sight, but he wasn’t sure he understood Lyceum. He was smart enough to get many of the messages that were embodied in the Christmas program he was watching, but he wasn’t sure what good they were. Finally he shrugged and decided not to worry about it. The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted to make love to that beautiful little gymnast as many times as possible before he had to return home.
The Wise Men solved their problem, of course, by giving gold, frankincense, myrrh, and savings bonds to all thirty-seven mothers. The choir sang and the audience cheered while the dancers passed out little gifts to all the children still in their seats. That reminded one particular choir member that he had quite a bit of gift and card giving to do that day himself. He looked across the Temple and saw the young girl who had possessed the courage to share with him his night in the barn. As if sensing his glance, she paused in her gift giving, looked in his direction, and smiled. He smiled back, hoping she knew how grateful he felt.
They all had many more responsibilities that day and the days that
followed, and at times Tim was seen helping Ashley serve a banquet or interpret French for a large group, and Senator Buchanan pitched in to help Liberty check lighting and sound levels prior to several events before he had to return to Washington.
With the passing of Christmas that year, the friendship of three chance acquaintances from the previous summer’s evaluation group had been tested and found strong. All three of them felt grateful for their triangle of trust and comfort, but were also aware of the great differences between them. Slowly, they were beginning to appreciate those differences and find strength in them.
So far their days at Lyceum had just been learning and playing and preparation. True, it was intense learning, risky playing, and comprehensive preparation. But sooner or later it all had to be put toward some larger purpose.
None of them could foresee, at that moment, the form that larger purpose would take.
About the Author
Born in the Mojave Desert, J. Z. Colby now lives and writes deep in a forest of the Pacific Northwest.
He has studied many subjects, formally and informally, including psychology, philosophy, education, and performing arts, but remains a generalist. His primary profession as a mental health therapist, specializing with families and young adults, gives him many stories of personal growth.
All his life, he has been drawn toward a broad understanding of human nature, especially those physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual situations in which our capacity to function seems to reach its limits. He finds fascinating those few individuals who can transcend the limits of our common human nature and the dictates of our cultures.
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