Mr. Keeze nodded at Faye and Frank and let his words sink in as he watched Wisdom’s light dawn upon each Faultsom brow and leave her kiss. After a few moments, he spoke again:
“Do you now see, my dear friends, that in the end, the flower surrenders itself and all its beauty in order to make a way for its precious seeds to be cast forth upon the wind? The blossom gives up its glories and pleasures to make a way for its babies to be planted in the earth. These in turn carry The Art of The Intention — The Way of Artifex. Seeds grow and bloom and nourish new life. Artifex Be Extolled!”
As he said this, each Faultsom felt themselves resonate with every flower waving in the endless fields that encompassed them. They entire family reverberated, with a passionate cry:
“Artifex Be Extolled, indeed!”
After a moment of reflection, Mr. Keeze’s eyes darkened sharply and then dimmed with a look of sorrow.
“In your world, many have not known of The Intention — the purpose in The All of It All. They have not known The Ardor of Artifex truly expressed in Knight and Bride. Even the flowers in your world understand what people have forgotten: that true love is only known in complete surrender to selfless intentions. Without this selfless love, many hearts in your world, though they survive, are never awakened to true life.”
“Papa!” Chief cried as he sidled up to his Dad and reached his arms up. “What ith he talking about? What ith The Ardor of Artifeth and all that thtuff?”
Frank picked up his youngest son and looked into his freckled face:
“Well, buddy, I think Mr. Keeze means that there is a plan of love inside of everything…a purpose…and he is saying that we can find it in each seed.”
“Well, I knew that, Papa. Thath tho obvioth. Doethn’t everyone know that?”
Frank chuckled and squeezed Chief ’s face up close to his own, as they turned their attention back to The Gate Keeper.
“No, my little Amazeling, not everyone understands this. Many will never receive The Seed; many will never surrender themselves to The Intention, but will hoard lifeless pleasures and seek to generate their own empty plans. True life and love never come of this.
“All of Wonder wonders at such sad goings-on in your world. Some of those who do not know The Ardor of Artifex seek to fill the void with empty, selfish pleasure and personal fulfillment. Others desire to stamp their own likenesses, whims, and desires upon one another. These things can only produce tragic, hollow results, and create shallow, puppet-like people who do not nurture the growth of true selfless Intention and Purpose.”
Faye and Frank nodded their heads, recalling the vacant look in the eyes of so many of the kids they saw coming home each day from The Grown-Up Factory. Right then and there, they knew that even though it would cost them everything, they would never stop fighting for their family to know Wonder’s Intention. And in this Purpose, maybe one day, they would all know The Ardor of this Artifex, which was somehow hidden in The All of It All.
Thinking out loud, Faye ventured:
“I know what you are saying is real, but is there hope for our world?”
“My slocks and sippers…no…ah…here it is…my socks and slippers! Of course there is hope! Dear friends, here is the marvelous secret hidden in every Seed of Wonder: Even when humans are not championed by selfless love, even when you fail each other, The Intention of Artifex is still buried in the soil of each life. When The Seed penetrates even the most forsaken of hearts, it awakens. So, in The Seed, there is Hope.”
At this, The Gate Keeper approached each member of the family, one at a time. Starting with Frank and then Faye and afterward, moving to each child, he stopped and paused, gripped their hands in his, and poured a twinkle’s worth of his joyous gaze into each Faultsom’s heart. As he did this, Frank, Faye, Constance, Charleston, Chance, and Chief were stilled with quiet assurance, feeling waves of pure love flow down upon them through the majestic red door that hovered and opened in the sky. It flowed through Mr. Keeze as he whispered a special secret into the ear of each family member. Standing on his tiptoes, he spoke softly to Faye:
“My Dear, do you know who you are…?”
As he continued, Faye felt that his words carried weight, yet they drifted away on a the breath of a zephyr, making them inaudible to anyone else. Faye’s brow furrowed as she tried to make out their significance.
To Constance he whispered, “You have the heart of the valorous Bride and the Intention of the passionate Knight is pursuing you. Generation awaits you. You are brave and strong and you carry a great Purpose — to scatter the Wonder of new life into your world through your strength, beauty, and fragrance. Receive The Ardor of Artifex and give this love to the forsaken.”
What he said to each of the others may not be revealed at this time, Dear Reader, but let it be said that Mr. Keeze’s words swept the remaining cobwebs from their minds and shooed the lingering fears from their souls. When he had finished, he gave them one more admonishment:
“As you return, my dear ones, I leave you with these Seeds. Receive them and they will grow. They will bring the hope of Generation into your world.”
“But my friends, beware the thorns and darts of The Shadowlands! You will pass through dim places as you return. But remember, there is always hope.”
At this, he clicked his heels together, wiped a tear from his eye, bowed deeply, and waved goodbye.
As the air around them began to swim and they faded from his presence, the Faultsoms caught one last glance of The Gate Keeper standing with his hand upon his heart. From a distance they heard his deep and melodious voice echoing:
“Receive The Seeds…receeeeeeiiiiive The Seeeeedddss!”
They were transmigrating, filtering in and out of spaces and pathways as if moving through hidden doors in a funhouse maze. Penetrating layers of time and dimension, the voyagers felt themselves sinking down, deeper and deeper, into an atmosphere that grew heavier and darker with each passing moment. There were flashes of light and cloudy mists through which they traveled toward their inevitable destination — a destination that they desperately wished they would never have to reach. The Faultsoms were aware of each sensation as they absorbed the impact of the words Mr. Keeze had whispered into their ears. His Seeds carried a weight that penetrated their consciousness, imparting strength to their hearts. They were comforted by what he had said, that is, until they began to feel a shift in the atmosphere. Their journey was taking them through a very scary place which was thick with shadows and dark light. Sensing danger mounting all around them, the unsuspecting Faultsoms felt as though they would suffocate in the dread that was quickly engulfing them.
“Heeere they commme! Thossse sssssickening Wwwon-dererssss!” A brittle, hissing voice spit the words out with such disgust as though it was choking on the gall of its own hatred.
“It isss farrr worsssseee than we antisss-ipated!” A spying scout screeched in revulsion, alarming many others who had hidden themselves in the shadows.
“The He and She and the sssspppawn of their Generationssss have…Sseedsssss!”
Now the entire cohort was in full battle alert. Their commander shrieked:
“They mussst be neutralizzzed before it’ssss too late. The Pressscribed Order mussst not be quessstioned!”
Razor-sharp shafts and thorns were unsheathed and aimed with chilling accuracy. Deadly in their subtlety, these weapons were cunningly designed to leave wounds that would go undetected. Each one inflicted just enough discomfort to penetrate its victim and unleash an insidious flow of refined destruction, but never produced enough pain to actually reveal the true nature of its immense threat. A chill wind blew upon the Faultsoms now, and mocking hisses teased their thoughts.
“Ow! What was that?” Chance was assaulted by a stab at his heel.
“Yikths, Mama…thomething jutht bit me on the leg! Like a huge mothquito…no fair!” Chief was incensed at the attack.
“Sheesh! What is this?” Charleston felt a scratch across his arm
leaving an abrasion of some sort.
They were now being propelled quickly as if to get them out of this dim and dreadful region as soon as possible. More darkness, and more hissing surrounded them.
“Something sharp pricked my forehead, Mom.” Constance cried out.
“I feel tho prickly!” Chance yelled.
Sensing the growing danger, the unsuspecting travelers felt as though they would suffocate in the dread that was quickly engulfing them. Sizzling and sputtering sounds pierced the air as the darts found their marks and the thorns and brambles about them scratched their fragile flesh. Each prick implanted poisonous invading thoughts that would soon grow to choke out all opposition.
“You’ve been trrrriccckked!”
“This is jusssst a fantassssy.”
“You’re Forssssaken.”
“It’ssss all your fault…”
Creepy voices whispered cruel thoughts, gleefully inflicting their venomous little torments. Frank felt something pierce him between the shoulder blades. Faye felt a jab just under her rib cage.
“This must be ‘The Shadowlands’!” Chance shouted.
“Ith tho creepy!” Chief wailed.
“I’m afraid!” Constance cried.
Frank had an inspiration:
“The Seeds! Everyone, Mr. Keeze said, ‘Receive The Seeds’!” Frank boomed. “Focus on what Mr. Keeze said…think about what he told you!”
Faye turned The Gate Keeper’s words over and over in her head as she plummeted through the shadows.
“Dare to Wonder…To find Artifex is to be found,” Mr. Keeze had whispered to her. But spewing from the darkness was an acrimonious voice opposing her.
“It’ssss all your fault, Mrsss. Faultssssom…you have failed…”
Constance found herself listening to an eerie voice, as she tried to remember what Mr. Keeze had told her.
“Forssssakennn. Alonnne. You are neverrrr enoughhhh.”
Constance was chilled to the bone as the words penetrated.
“It’sss all a myth…You are too ssssmart to be trapped in this fantassssyyyyyy…” The voice trailed off into the distance.
“Don’t be fooled by their delusionssss…There issss no Purposssseee.”
Cheering with glee, the attackers retreated into the periphery, gloating over the impact of their warcraft. Victory was surely at hand. If these meddlesome interlopers did not resist, they would soon drift into acquiescence. Watching with evil anticipation, the assailants were thrilled to see their victims succumbing to a lethal mixture of doubt, fear, and depression.
“Successssss!” came the jubilant hisses. They were certain they would prevail.
Suddenly, a string of their curses filled the atmosphere for their evil assault was somehow being countervailed. So it was, for when the Faultsoms focused on their Seed Secrets the pain inflicted on them would diminish, and the hope in them would brighten. But as they passed through the shadows and descended into their own world, they each had to fight hard to keep from being overwhelmed by the panic and growing feeling of depression that assaulted them on every side. Faye and Constance felt their energy draining away. It was so difficult to resist the dark voices.
The wicked watchers were now observing with dread. The He and his boy-spawn were putting up a fight! With them victory could not be assured. At least not, yet. But the She and the girl-spawn were another matter. They had failed to resist.
Just when the Faultsoms thought their trial would never end, the family heard a happy, funny sound in the distance. What could that be? Why, it was the echoing of The Song! What a relief! It cut through the dark thicket they were traversing and vibrated in the air, creating a welcoming sonic landing pad for them. They were actually entering back into those last moments outside their home when they had burst out into that silly singing! They could even hear their own voices rising up from beneath them, and they joined in singing with themselves as their feet touched the ground and their bodies gained substance. Cornelius, their hound dog, was still barking wildly and running back and forth when they became visible again to The Well Being Officers, who were still standing on the sidewalk, absolutely flabbergasted.
With effervescent and utterly ridiculous good humor — especially in light of what they were still facing — the Faultsoms stood together bellowing that insidiously optimistic song — laughing and crying. Now they sang it with new words:
We are Jolly Jaunty Voy’gers!
A returning delegation
For we’ve found our happy hearts
And sing for joy with admiration
Of the Wondrous seeds and secrets
That deserve our cogitation.
So there’s hope enough in every heart
To change this rotten situation!
There they were, in front of their dumble street home, hugging each other and laughing and chattering incessantly like Llopens! Chance noticed that their banter carried a familiar quality to it and shouted above the noisy voices:
“Hey, Ho, there, family! Here we are — the natty, nattering Faultsoms!”
Recognizing the familiarity of their energetic jabbering, Charleston giggled:
“Ever the excitable chaps, aren’t we?”
“Yeth! Leths Down and Dig!” Chief chimed in.
“Yeah, you guys do sound like those annoying little fuzzballs…” Constance had a bit of a snarky tone in her voice, but then she cracked a good-humored grin.
Faye and Frank looked on, smiling as silly “pollen-esian” sayings bubbled up and out of their lips as well. This strange embodiment in their midst of their histamine-provoking friends was oddly reassuring, as the Well Being Officers who were still there, had overcome some of their shock and were now closing in around them.
As the officials approached to seize the children from their parents, they walked into the middle of the Faultsoms’ uproarious, Llopeny yakking, and suddenly started to sneeze! They sneezed and sneezed and could not stop! With their eyes watering like sprinklers and their noses stuffed up like cocktail olives, the officers were quite incapacitated. They were pretty perturbed and perfectly pitiful.
It was then that it began to dawn upon members of the family that something from Wonder was breaking into their world! It was as if they had brought the Llopens back to Dumble Street, or maybe they had paved the way for the WBOs to encounter Wonder’s whacky goings-on.
A lightbulb turned on inside Chance’s head and he shouted out.
“Wow, guys! This is too weird. I just had this idea: What if stuff that happened in Wonder can happen here somehow?”
“Yes…” Charleston mused, “Makes one consider the possibilities. Perhaps there are other experiences we can import from Wonder into our realm now that we have returned.”
“Cool! I’m going to try it…thith ith going to be my favorite part of the job, thith ith!” Chief exulted as he quoted Mr. Keeze.
Giving each other a knowing look, the boys clapped high fives, hugged their sister and parents, grabbed their bags, and deposited themselves in the vehicles assigned to take them away from home. This they did, mischievously, jabbering like Llopens while the deputies continued to sneeze, wiping their watery eyes and blowing their noses on their coat sleeves.
Constance, too, ran to give everyone a last kiss, laughing at her brothers as a wave of hope rose in her heart. Moments later, however, she felt a jab in the middle of her back and noticed a faint hissing sound behind her as she ducked into the waiting car. She turned to see where this came from, but saw nothing. Dismissing this as just being in her imagination, she was determined to shake the dark feelings.
Faye and Frank waved goodbye. How was it they could be so sad and yet so hopeful, so concerned and yet so calm all at the same time? But this is how they felt. So, they shouted their “I love you’s,” surrendered their kids to an unknown future, and walked back into their forlorn old house, arm in arm, with faithful Cornelius trailing along, quite confused.
As determined by the State, Consta
nce, Chance, Charleston, and Chief were sent to separate temporary care facilities until they could complete a Social Re-Alignment Program (or SyRAP, as they came to call it). Although the kids attended SyRAP sessions with program counselors assigned to reorder their thoughts and beliefs, they seemed, for the most part, to remain the irrepressibly curious and ebullient kids they had been before.
To the degree that they learned to be absorbed in Wonder, they were more or less impervious to the effects of the sappy, sickening, SyRAP’y seminars. These were very dark and confusing times, to be sure, but the realignment curriculum didn’t compete well with the curious clues they began to discover around them when they looked closely. These clues hinted at Artifex and The Intention in The All of It All.
Even when they were told that they needed to give up the outdated, antisocial, and unscientific notions they had grown up with, the Faultsom kids had available to them the sound, sights, and sensations of Wonder — if they chose to focus on that dimension.
During times when they felt lonely, isolated, or anxious they would feel the sting of the wounds they had received as they descended through The Shadowlands. Doubt, fear, and emptiness would creep over them and fill their thoughts with cynical skepticism and bitterness. Until, that is, they chose to remember and cherish the words The Gate Keeper had whispered in their ears.
Back home, rambling around their empty Dumble Street house with Corneilus, and aching most terribly for their children, Frank and Faye clung to their reminiscences of Wonder.
Faye was frequently visited by fear in the night hours as she worried about her kids. Always, when this happened, she felt a pain hit her under her rib cage as her thoughts unraveled. What if her kids were harmed? She had no way to protect them or help them. Awful outcomes flooded her mind. The kids were off in those state facilities under the control of people whose job it was to reprogram them. If it weren’t for her and her wild ideas and crazy pursuits, maybe things would be different. Why did she always insist on pushing the envelope? Why couldn’t she just back off and let Frank take the lead in these things? That would have been safer. Maybe then they could have all just fit it with everybody else and stayed out of trouble.
Mrs. Amazing and the Seed Page 11