The Fountain of Eden: A Myth of Birth, Death, and Beer
Page 40
Chapter 40
Tangled up in Blue
When Sitting Lotus opened his eyes, all he saw was blue.
A tapestry of blue surrounded him, shimmering like moonlight on mountain water.
The blue brushed his face. It felt like feathers—the essence of lightness, weightlessness, with a pungent, flowery aroma that intoxicated the senses and made him feel lightheaded.
Am I . . . dead? he thought. I tell you what, I sure wasn't expecting it to be so . . . blue!
Then Master Mirbodi's grinning visage cut through the blanket of smelly blue evanescence.
“Novice!”
Sitting Lotus sighed. Well, I guess I'm not dead. Although perhaps Master Mirbodi will haunt me even when I retire from this world.
Sitting Lotus lay on the floor of the cavern, which was far softer than it should have been. The strange sword had reverted from gun form. Not long ago imbued with a life of its own, the blade now lay lifeless at his side.
Master Mirbodi helped Sitting Lotus to his feet. The novice winced. His hip felt like it had been roasted over hot coals, so he used the sword as a crutch. “I can't put any weight on this leg.”
Stephone appeared out of nowhere. “Let me take care of that for you.” She placed a hand on the novice's hip. A soft white light pulsated within her palm and transferred into Sitting Lotus.
The novice gasped, and then exhaled. He bent and stretched, then tried walking around. “Buddha's blistered bhikkhus, that feels better! Why, it's as good as new! How can I ever repay you?”
Stephone shrugged. “It's just what I do. But if you ever want to chat about the dharma in the future, I'll be around. Fascinating stuff, that. Or at least I've always thought so.”
Sitting Lotus grinned. “Yeah, me too.” He around the cavern with wary eyes. He saw some shapes through the azure haze, moving around, but there was no sign of the Furies. “But . . . what happened? I remember pulling the trigger, and then . . . nothing. Say, what's all this blue stuff floating around here, anyway?”
Sitting Lotus reached out and plucked a chunk of blue from the air, then sucked in a surprised breath as he peered at it. “Flowers? Where did all these blue flowers come from?”
For that was what he had first perceived to be blue light, and why the stone ground had felt so soft: there were thousands of blue flowers floating about the cavern!
“They irises,” said Master Mirbodi. He wrapped Sitting Lotus in a bear hug that left the poor novice gasping for breath. “You pull trigger of sword-gun and it start shooting out flowers. In no time room filled and harpies rolling around in flowers, moaning and groaning like in drug-induced trance.”
“The only thing in all the Worlds that can placate the Furies is the blossom of the blue iris,” said Stephone. “I always thought that old myth was a bunch of hogwash.” She shrugged. “Who knew?”
“They couldn't stop smelling 'em,” added Jack. “I even saw Tisiphone shoving 'em into her mouth and munching them down like potato chips.”
“So we got some empty canvas potato sacks from outside the Colonial Eden Grocer, tossed the Furies in, and covered them with flowers,” said Sir Arthur. “Hermes flew them up to level ground, and we sent Tom and Huck and gang to toss them into the sipapuni.”
“Aye,” said Farmer John, “and we just finished dumping the last of the Hoppy Heaven Ale, so that should be that.”
Sir Arthur smiled. “Yes, I do believe we've done it. The universe is saved.” He peered at the novice with dancing eyes. “And it's all thanks to Sitting Lotus.”
Sitting Lotus received many slaps upon the back. He looked mystified during this treatment. He glanced down at the weapon in his hands, then held it out hilt first to Master Mirbodi, as if to pass the sword off.
“But where did this sword come from? And why did it just appear in my hand like that?”
“Novice, you hold Sword of Manjushri! Sword of Wisdom!”
Sitting Lotus dropped the blade to the flower-covered ground, where it landed and ceased to incandesce. “The Sword of Manjushri?! Manjushri the . . . the bodhisattva?! But I thought the Sword was just a metaphor for cutting through the false fetters of duality to true wisdom!”
“You no learn in last week that things you think not-real often show up in Eden, where impossible things happen daily?” Master Mirbodi's gaze bored into Sitting Lotus. “As much as you may think your mind no grasp, perhaps in some ways you still crave things. Different things than before you come to New Shaolin, but still . . . things. Now pick up Sword and keep it close. It entrusted to you until its bodhisattva owner come looking for it.”
Sitting Lotus picked up the Sword with reverence. His quivering fingers touched the hilt, and the magical blade began to shimmer with azure fire.
“And now,” said Sir Arthur, “let us retire and get some well-deserved rest. I know that everybody wants to attend the big sale tomorrow!” He spun to the old farmer, an embarrassed grin on his face. “John, you can stay with me until you get your house fixed up. I feel somewhat responsible for the condition of your homestead, not to mention your bar and brewery.”
But Farmer John just laughed and slapped the detective on the back. “Hey, mythical shit happens,” he said.
The companions made their way to the surface and wandered their separate ways. Everybody did want to attend the “Your Trash, Their Treasure” sale at New Shaolin Monastery tomorrow.
It was sure to be a good time.
Every year, it always was.