His eyes widened, and then he smiled. “Yes.”
“How?” she demanded. “How did you do it?”
He told her of a group of alchemical doctors hidden in a far desert, people who’d studied the essence of Green and Red, and ways to change bodies through herbs, scalpels, and even spirits so subtle they could enter the body through small cuts on the palms or directly through the breath. To find these people she would have to travel through many lands and across dangerous territory. There was one thing that would help her. In every place there were people like them. Some, like the teacher himself, had made the journey and returned, others were weak, either physically or emotionally, but they loved the ones who could do it, and helped them in any way they could. That way they might imagine they themselves were passing through the “Alchemist’s Palace,” finally able to eat the food they had craved all their lives. Together, all these people formed what they called the Underground Caravan to help the Changers on their way.
Kara didn’t dare tell her parents what she was going to do. They would try to stop her, and if she got away, and succeeded, she would come back a Green, unable to live in their world of Redness ever again. She left them a letter to ask their forgiveness, saying only that she had to do the most important thing in her life and they would never see her again. With what little money she had, and the address of the nearest stop on the Underground Caravan, that tunnel through the world, she set out.
She traveled for two years, the hardest, but also the most exciting time of her life. Even if she could have gone there directly it was very far away, but the path of help zigzagged so much she felt like a ball of dust blown from one corner of a room to another. When she ran out of money she discovered there were men who would pay her to wear green clothes and eat green food until she vomited on herself. She hated them and sometimes imagined killing them even as she smiled and made loud smacking noises with her lips as she took a bite.
Finally she saw it. Kara had expected something grand and ancient, with stone turrets or golden domes. Instead, she came over a hill of cracked brown dirt, with a green scarf wound around her face to protect her from what she thought of as red winds, and saw a low building of stone and glass. It looked like it had grown out of the desert floor. Over the stone, green and red vines twined together. Looking at them Kara felt both queasy and excited.
Before she approached the building she reached into her bag for a green cloak. She’d stolen it years ago from an unlocked house and kept it hidden under a pile of old toys in her parents’ garage. Now she’d carried it on her journey and sometimes wrapped it around her when she slept, if she thought no one would spot her. She swirled it around her and fastened the clasp.
Kara didn’t know what she expected. Maybe a kindly doctor would step out, or a group of Changed Greens who would welcome her with a platter of delicacies. Instead, a door opened and a tiger and leopard slinked out, each step slow and deliberate, as if they wanted to make clear there was no need to rush. The black eyes fixed on her, the teeth gave off sparks in the sun. Instead of yellow and black the tiger was red with green stripes, the leopard green with blood-red spots.
Kara backed away. She looked all around, as if someone might rush up and rescue her. No one. “Please,” she said, not sure if she talked to the beasts or to someone hidden in the building. “It’s not fair. I’ve come all the way across the world. I gave up everything.”
“Not everything,” the tiger said, and moved low to the ground, tensed to jump.
The cloak, she thought. They were punishing her for wearing a green cloak when she was still a Red. It was so unfair, they were supposed to be different, to help. Backing away, she reached up to the clasp. If she took it off, would they let her go? Maybe she could throw it at their heads so they couldn’t see as she ran back over the hill.
No, she thought, with the clasp half-open. She’d rather die for real that run back to a dead life. She re-fastened the cloak and stepped forward. The tiger and leopard leaped at her throat.
Over the next weeks Kara knew consciousness at only rare moments. There was pain, and stabs of pleasure, and tiny bursts of light that went off under her skin. Ghosts moved alongside her, Green and Red nurses and doctors. Sometimes she saw an old woman with loose silver hair, a long white dress, and skin so smooth and colorless it seemed almost transparent. Kara had never seen someone who was neither Red nor Green, and she would have stared if she’d not been too tired to keep her eyes open. The woman said her name was Beatrix. When she stroked Kara’s forehead with the tips of her fingers green light ran through Kara’s body.
Kara woke up for real in a green wooden bed, under a green cover. She realized she was wearing a green nightdress, while alongside the bed a green robe lay over a wooden chair painted all over with green vines. Ignoring the wobbliness in her legs, Kara jumped up and ran to a mirror on the side wall. Yes! She could see the change in her face and skin. She was Green! And hungry, unequivocally hungry, with no more horrible choice of eating food she hated or food her body could not really accept.
Just then a man came in, a young Red with a silver tray of food, all of it green, green, green. He laughed happily at her greedy appetite, her sighs of delight. It sounded like the laughter of someone who knew just how it felt. It struck Kara—she’d never thought this before—that as much as she was Green, and had always been Green, she was something else as well. She belonged to a secret tribe, the Changers. Her bond with this transformed Red, this man she didn’t know and could never be close to in the outside world, might be stronger than with any Green she would ever meet. She thought of all the Greens and Reds who’d helped her find her way to the Alchemist’s Palace. She reached over to hug the young nurse. What would outsiders think of that? A Green hugging a Red. They both laughed.
She sat down on the chair. “Is Beatrix here?”
Nurse Red stared at her. “Beatrix?” he said softly. “You saw her?”
“Yes, of course,” Kara said. “She helped me when I was hurting.”
“Just a moment.” He got up and left the room. A few minutes later he came back with a short elderly man, a dark-skinned Green in an elegant white suit. “Good morning,” he said. “I am Dr. Virgilian.”
“Oh,” she said. “Were you the one—Did you change me?”
“Yes. Many of us worked on you, but I led them.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“Rosso tells me you were visited by a woman named Beatrix. Would you mind telling me what she looked like?”
“Of course,” Kara said. She described the old woman, and added, “I assumed she worked here.”
“Not exactly,” Dr. Virgilian said. “She shows up from time to time. On a volunteer basis.”
“Oh. Well if you see her could you tell her I want to thank her? She was really very nice to me.”
“Yes, certainly. Tell me something, Kara. Are you happy? Now that you’ve changed.”
“Oh yes. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Thank you so much.”
Dr. Virgilian smiled. “Then we are happy as well. Congratulations, Kara. Welcome to your new life.” He clasped both her hands in his for a moment, then bowed slightly before he walked to the door. With his hand on the knob he turned and said, “Feel free to explore the building and the grounds. And if I don’t see you again before you return to the world, please remember that you are always welcome here.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Oh, by the way,” he added, “the name Beatrix? It means ‘she who brings happiness.’ I looked it up once. Isn’t that interesting?”
Kara stayed for over a week. She watched the Alchemists in their laboratories whose walls were covered with symbols and formulas. She talked with other “transcolorists,” a term she learned from Rosso, who himself had come years ago, expecting to change and leave but had decided there was no place he would rather be.
One afternoon she was sitting in a sun room with a young man named Willem, a New Green like Kara herself. Kara asked, �
�Were you scared out of your mind when that tiger and leopard came out?”
Willem squinted at her. “What?”
Kara wanted to run from the room. She said, “You know, when you first came to the Palace.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I knocked on the door and Rosso opened it and welcomed me. I was very happy I did not have to explain anything.”
“Oh,” Kara said. She felt herself shiver, and hugged herself. “I’ve got to go.” All that day she wanted to ask Rosso or even Dr. Virgilian but didn’t want them to think she was crazy. She must have passed out from hunger and dreamed it all.
The night before she was due to return to the world Green Kara woke up to a strange sound. A mix of sustained high-pitched notes and low, sharply punctuated cries, it seemed a kind of singing, but nothing she’d ever heard or imagined. She was not even sure if it was human.
She put on her green robe and stepped into the empty corridor. Where was everybody? Couldn’t they hear it? She walked towards the sounds. After various turns down different passages she came to a spiral staircase she’d never seen before. She squinted up at it, confused, for it seemed to reach higher than she remembered the height of the building. It was dark, but at the very top she could see points of color and a shimmering line of white. Beatrix?
Kara climbed for a long time. With every turn the singing (if that was what it was) became louder, the high notes piercing her skin, the low a shock to her bones. A couple of times she tripped and almost rolled down again but managed to stop herself so she could push upwards.
The first thing she saw when she reached the top was the open gates. There were two doors, one green, the other red, both engraved with complex diagrams that looked like messages. On the other side of the opening she saw first nothing but darkness and tiny lights that appeared and disappeared, with swirling lines that seemed to vanish in on themselves. As she continued to stare she thought she saw the tiger and leopard, fighting or dancing with each other, so fast she could hardly see them. And there were people, or at least she thought there were, so hard to see. Maybe it was just a trick of the lights, for now she could see color and pattern, green and red, and colors Kara’s eyes couldn’t even figure out. She stared, her mouth open, her fists clenched.
It took a few moments before she saw Beatrix on the left side of the gates. Her white dress shone dimly in the dark. She said, “Beloved Kara. The Gates are open for you. You may enter or leave. There is no blame.”
Kara lifted a foot. If she passed through she would become something she couldn’t even imagine. She would know rushes of color and tone most people never suspected. Except—she would have to give up her life as a Green. There were no Greens or Reds beyond the gates, only color that never ended and never stayed the same. “I’m sorry,” she said to Beatrix. “I waited so long. I’m sorry.” She turned and ran, as fast as she could, down to the solid ground of the Alchemist’s Palace.
The trip back to the world was much easier than the journey out. Rosso gave her money and maps, and now that she was a proper Green she could eat, and be with her own people, whenever she wanted. She found a town she liked, and got a job, and went back to school, and eventually became a librarian. She made friends, even fell in love a couple of times, though never for very long. How could she tell a lover the most important thing about her? It was only late at night that she sometimes wondered, just what was that thing? That she had been a Red and was now a Green? Or that she passed up the chance to become something else?
She joined the transcolor underground network, sheltering travelers and directing them to the next stop. She helped so many they called her “the Travel Agent.” She found small groups of neo-Greens, and even a mixed group of Greens and Reds. It thrilled her to discover how much their lives were like hers, the childhood of loneliness and fear, the desire that made you feel like a leaf in a hurricane of fire. And then the discovery of hope, the ecstasy of change. But she never mentioned the tiger and leopard, or the singing, or the doorway she thought of as the Beatrix Gates.
After fifteen years had gone by, Kara traveled back to her hometown. For a week she stayed in a Green hotel, went to all the Green restaurants, and the Green markets. She watched groups of teenaged Green girls, or Green children in their Green playground. Finally she took a taxi to her parents’ home and rang the bell.
Kara’s mother answered the door. Her face sagged a little, and she looked shorter, but she was dressed more carefully than Kara remembered, in a red skirt and jacket that looked almost elegant. Distaste flickered in her face before she coated it with politeness. It was nothing personal, Kara knew, just what any Red feels towards a Green who shows up on her doorstep. Kara had felt the same way once, when a Red plumber came to fix her toilet.
“Can I help you?” Kara’s mother said.
“Mom,” Kara said, “it’s me. Kara.”
“What?”
“I’ve changed, Mom. I always wanted to change and I did it. That was why I left. But it’s me. I missed you.”
“How dare you?” her mother said. “I don’t know who you think you are or who sent you with that sick joke.”
“It’s not a joke. I’m your daughter.”
“My daughter was Red. Can’t you see that? What’s the matter with you? She was a beautiful Red girl and she disappeared a long time ago. Some Green pervert must have taken her. If you don’t get out of here right now I’m calling the police.”
“Mom, please—” Kara’s mother slammed the door. Kara walked away.
Years passed. Kara became head of the regional library system, where she promoted books on openness and tolerance. She continued her work with the Underground Caravan, and even received an award at a secret convention deep in the mountains. She hid the plaque—gold, with green and red swirls that reminded her of the Palace—in the bottom drawer of her night table.
One evening, at a Green health club, she met a schoolteacher named Devra, who was bright and funny. They went for a drink, and then the next night dinner, and soon they were lovers. Devra was wonderful and Kara even thought she loved her. But after some months Devra wanted marriage, and while Kara thought this would be wonderful and could even imagine them as old women together in a house by the sea, she knew she could not get married without telling Devra her secret. She broke it off. For some time she berated herself for cowardice and a too-long habit of secrecy. Then one night, as she was sitting alone with a glass of green curaçao, it struck her that she wouldn’t know what to say. In the years before she’d changed she would have known exactly what to say, the same narrative she now heard over and over from the people she helped. Something shifted, however, that last night in the Palace. It left her with a riddle that seemed beyond solution.
As time went on, a new spirit of openness stirred in Kara’s country. People talked about Greens and Reds becoming friends, even lovers, though many wondered how this could happen since sharing food was so important in romance, and they’d get sick if they even cooked together.
One Sunday morning Kara sat down with a cup of green tea and the paper. Suddenly she gave a cry and spilled her tea. The magazine cover showed a handsome adolescent Green staring out at the camera. The lighting allowed his face to shine while hiding his clothes. You could see the eyebrow ridge, the separated lip, the lines in the neck that clearly marked him a Green. Across the bottom of the page, in bright pink, were the words “I AM A RED!”
Kara read the article three times and might have read it forever if the phone calls hadn’t started. Everything was there, the longing, the hopelessness, the constant thoughts of suicide. There were various attempts at explanations, talk of nature’s (or God’s) mistakes, fetal brain chemistry, and so on, none of which interested Kara in the slightest. More important was the claim that the “condition,” while very rare, occurred in Greens and Reds of every culture.
Would people suspect her, Kara wondered. Her best guess was no, though her hands shook even as she pretended to think calmly. She’d bee
n Green for so long, was so established, looked just like any other middle-aged Green woman.
Some of the callers worried about their own safety. Others hoped the outside world would become more tolerant. Still others worried if the Caravan would have to increase security, and what it all might mean to the Alchemist’s Palace. After several hours Kara stopped answering the phone.
She went and lay down on her bed, stared up at the pale-green ceiling. What did it all mean? If it all became public, maybe even accepted, would that make it normal? Or understood? Did she herself understand anything?
To Kara’s relief no great change happened. People discussed the article with fascination or disgust. Some made jokes about it, or claimed it was all a hoax. Kara took a tolerant stand admired by many of her friends. Soon the question was mostly forgotten.
One day, thirty-two years after she’d left the red and green building in the desert, Kara saw a sign outside a planetarium. “Music of the Spheres,” it read. “Ancient dream, modern reality?” She was in a city new to her, for a conference, and had the afternoon free, so she stepped inside.
The planetarium was a circular room with a dome-like ceiling and wide seats that tilted back like dentist’s chairs. Though there was no official separation, custom gave the left side to Greens, the right to Reds. Kara sat down among a class of chattering high school students. There was more space on the right, but you just didn’t do that. She would have been uncomfortable, even if no one else was sitting there.
The room went dark and the ceiling lit up with an old-fashioned image of the heavens, a blue-black sky with the constellations marked in dotted lines. A recorded man’s voice intoned platitudes about the ancients’ belief in gods and spirits. The image shifted to concentric circles with the earth in the center and small circles labeled with the names of the sun, moon, and planets. The speaker told how people believed that the earth was at the center of a series of spheres, each one with its own musical tone corresponding to the diatonic scale. Sonorous sounds echoed around the room.
The Beatrix Gates Page 3