His father rose out of his times.
Of course they will never know.
How can any of them ever know what influences they have had? This is the challenge to all the race – to go beyond, with no knowledge of the power they can wield, to change things.
Simply with their openness to our realm …
Yes, indeed.
Will there be others, do you think?
There will always be those who will try, and many will fail – most, in fact.
Let us see who else can go beyond themselves, as the great ones before them … The Son, The Prophet, The Glory …
They will always be with us, and with them, and their Word is emblazoned forever.
Morality is unclear to men. They twist and turn it to their own devices.
Yes, of course. They are men. They will always put their own interpretations to it. But not all. Not all.
No, not all.
We must prepare a welcome for the older boy. Despite his immediate failure, he left behind his own influence. He left a call to the younger boy. That was not an easy thing to do. He found the connection across time – this is not easily understood, and yet he found the key. This was a great courage on his part. And there were nonetheless some great men of the time – sons of the Prophet even – who were greater and more beneficent that others may have thought, then or now.
Yes, the Bishop didn’t see it in this light. Just the words, but not the reality.
And this is the problem after all – words alone. But without application they are worthless.
Perhaps, as you say, he did not really fail.
The monk stood from his kneeling, and the two turned together and walked solemnly from the Cathedral, past the building going on around them, and the noise, and the gaping holes still in the side of the great Church.
All the religions are one.
If there be an ear to hear, or a heart to understand.
Lord Abelard sat by a large fireplace, his booted feet crossed and resting on the table before him.
‘How many did you say?’
‘Over a hundred, my Lord,’ replied the Priest, sitting opposite, comfortable but not so much as his host.
‘Well then, we’ll round them up in the town and send some packing down to London.’
‘I don’t think that’s necessary, my Lord.’
‘Why the devil not? If the King wants Jews, I’ll give them to him.’
‘Because the Bishop does not want Jews, my Lord.’
‘I see.’ Abelard dropped his long legs to the ground and stood, wandering nearer the fire.
‘So you’re the Bishop’s man then? Well, I’m the King’s!’
‘I would say you are both, sir, and it is perhaps not so simple to put a preference to such a thing. Nor indeed wise.’
‘Who the devil do you think you are to tell me what’s so wise, Priest?’
‘Merely some advice for your Lordship’s consideration. There’s been enough to stir the folk about lately, and I think – and our Bishop agrees – that it would be best if we leave things to calm for a while. The King has enough to make his foolish example of.’
‘That’s a brave statement, to call our King foolish.’
‘Just his action, sir. Just his action.’
‘Hmm. Well then. Is there anything to suggest a crime then?’
‘Not particularly. The boy had wandered and obviously been caught in a trap. It would have been easy enough for him to fall.’
‘Bloody poachers! What happened to that last one? Best we at least make an example of him then.’
‘I believe he was given a beating by your men and thrown out on a road with his arms broken. I expect he’s been set upon by thieves or some such by now. Certainly, he’s not been heard from since, as far as I’m aware.’
‘Well, get back to your flock man and don’t be bringing me any more of these problems. Keep them settled, for God’s sake!’
‘With your help, sir …’
‘Not with my bloody help! The next nonsense you bring me and I’ll have someone’s head.’
‘Indeed.’ Father Taylor stood and bowed his head just a little, waiting for the Thane to reciprocate.
An acknowledgement almost imperceptible came and the priest turned and left the room, hearing some piece of furniture kicked or thrown behind him as he closed the door. The Father smiled at the frustration exhibited from the other man.
I was such, once.
There was a balance to restore among the people of these parts, and he thought it would bring a fresh vision of the future for many simple but noble lives.
The Bishop walked the path from the wharf; his assistant, Peter, in tow. The days were cooling, much to everyone’s relief, and tempers had burnt out likewise.
Thank God.
‘How are you, Peter?’
‘Eminence?’
‘How are you?’
‘I’m well, my Lord. Thank you.’
‘There were two monks here recently, along this path – one older and one younger. Do you know them?’
‘There are so many come to the city, my Lord. No, I’m sorry.’
‘No matter.’
The two men, Bishop and priest, walked on together. There was no hurry today.
‘I’m sorry about the bird, Eminence.’ Peter braved a comment before being spoken to, which would not have been his usual way.
‘Thank you, Peter. I’m sorry for it too.’
‘Are you well, Eminence?’
Hugh stopped and looked at the young priest. He smiled.
‘Thank you, Peter, for your concern. You have been a loyal servant in such trying times.’
‘I’ve seen the weight of it on you, my Lord.’
‘Yes, yes, it has been that.’ Hugh resumed his walk, and the priest continued the pace alongside.
The Lord prevails.
‘The Lord prevails, my Lord.’
Hugh smiled.
Jacob Yazd lit the seven candles on the table before him and bade his family bow their heads in their usual daily prayer, grateful for their safety, for a growing calm, and for Angels living and dead that some part in even the most meagre of fortunes. Although life could not be thought of as meagre.
Berta Draper nestled back in her chair, smothered in rugs, and closed her eyes.
The puzzle of many events linked together in a picture in her mind.
Well then. Sometimes I’m right. And sometimes I’m less right.
21
Walking along the lakefront beneath her office, Alicia’s mind floated in a joyful melancholy of her present being. It was a state she enjoyed, and it gave her pause to reflect on what had been and what was, well beyond her own existence and those in her immediate surrounds. Alicia relished change at the same time that it also swept her into wallowing in her own history, followed by a wonder at how she had achieved this new intersection virtually without knowing it was to come upon her.
The excitement of change, the planning of it, the events and such that had occurred for herself and for her family, an enlightenment as to several new realities in their lives, the prospect of something better – all this rolled into a giant ball of light and energy in her consciousness that she revelled in. It seemed only perfect that the day was light, the colours of autumn were at their picturesque best, and the air was still. There was even the warmth that sat at the comfortable optimum between too warm and not quite warm enough.
Alicia smiled at those passing by her on the path, and noted as she did that these recipients of her blithesome charm were a fuller, more caring, more spirited humanity than she’d noticed in a while, and she made a mental note to reassert her intellectual views on the depths of human kindness and of humanity in general.
With a wrapped-up sandwich and a bottle of juice in her shoulder bag, Alicia settled on a wooden bench just off the path and closer to the lake and pulled out her light lunch. A pair of swans immediately paddled near.
‘Don’t even think
about it, all right. You’re not having any. Shoo!’ she waved an arm at the two birds and they retreated a fraction. Alicia pretended to ignore them and hoped some other passer-by might attract them with the promise of more enticing snacks.
Munching her sandwich, Alicia’s reverie extended to the history of the place she sat, the two-thousand-year-old town and its thousand-year-old cathedral, and she marvelled at how many had walked this path before her and for what purpose. She felt sorry to be leaving the town just as she was uncovering its inherent riches, not to mention that she had overlooked the pleasure her own family had taken in Lincoln’s many stories and figures, and for that she resolved to take better notice of what the people in her life were thinking and doing and becoming..
Finishing off her crust and resisting the urge to throw it out to the swans – lord only knows they’d be back at her in a shot wanting more, and bringing all their friends with them – Alicia picked out her second sammie and smiled at an elderly gentleman who’d just that moment sat at the other end of her bench seat. He tipped his hat to her with a polite nod and a smile and wrapped his overcoat across him, apparently cold despite the day.
It was less than a minute had gone by when Alicia felt compelled to make a further acknowledgement.
‘Cold?’ she asked.
‘Oh yes.’ The man turned his head and smiled again, as though he were nonetheless about some purpose in sitting there.
Alicia knew she was going to be saying more although she could not have said why that was the case.
‘It’s a lovely day though, isn’t it?’
‘Oh yes. Yes, indeed,’ the man responded similarly, turning briefly to her and then back to a purposeful stare across the lake. He spoke very well, and Alicia fancied he was probably well educated.
‘I’ve been thinking what an incredible spot this is,’ remarked Alicia, ‘and how many must have walked this path over so many hundreds of years.’
The man smiled again, but this time without turning his head or saying a thing, as though he were enjoying a private joke. For Alicia’s part she could see the thought entertained him and wondered why. She looked at him a moment further and then returned also to a concerted stare out to the lake, and the simple pleasure of an egg sandwich.
After a few more minutes the thought entered Alicia’s head that the man had intended some purpose in sitting next to her, and as she was thinking what further enquiry she might make of him, he spoke instead to her.
‘Even these swans have been here these many years as well. One even speaks with our Bishop, I hear.’
‘Spoke,’ said Alice.
‘Beg pardon?’ said the man a little absent-mindedly.
‘A swan spoke to the Bishop,’ she repeated.
‘Oh yes, of course.’ He was smiling again.
The two sat again quietly.
‘What do you do?’ Alicia asked after another minute or two.
‘Oh, I’m retired now, my dear,’ the man replied. ‘But I keep active,’ he went on enthusiastically. ‘I like to impart my worldly wisdom where I can,’ he dipped his head to her and smiled.
‘Well, the world could certainly do with more of that. In fact, I’ve found myself in need of some lately,’ said Alicia, ‘and it’s a hard thing to come by. Our lives are very complicated, aren’t they? It’s a challenge to balance it all and make sense of it all. Don’t you think?’
‘I think we make it complicated,’ the man replied, ‘when really it’s very simple.’
Alice had the feeling the old man had a lot more to say but was only going to do so if she asked him, as though he had no wish to impose his views unbidden. In that case, she decided she ought to ask him.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Well, what in your life is complicated, tell me, my dear,’ he responded.
‘Well, I …’ Alicia started, taken aback. ‘Well, I’m a physicist. I have a complex set of workplace relationships, and I’m married with two children, one of whom is autistic. And we’re going to move to America, we’ve decided. And …’
‘Well, that all seems most uncomplicated,’ the man asserted.
‘I suppose when it’s all in one sentence, it does seem fairly simple,’ responded Alicia.
‘So the question is, of course, why have you made it complicated?’
Alicia laughed. ‘So my life’s not complicated. I just made it that way.’
‘Oh, it’s not something to be ashamed off, my dear. Everyone does it.’
Alicia laughed again. ‘Do you do it?’
‘I’m not everyone,’ he replied, leaning in towards her in mock conspiracy and smiling. ‘But I did have to practise for many years before I was as good at it as I am now.’
‘As good at what?’
‘Creating my life myself. Knowing that I’m responsible for it all.’
‘And making it less complicated too, I suppose,’ Alicia asked further.
‘We don’t make something less, nor do we make something more. We just make it.’
‘Now you are making it complicated,’ said Alicia, smiling.
‘Do you have a bone in your body, my dear, called “complicated”?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Do you own a thing called complicated?’
‘No.’
‘Well then, this thing you want to make less, where do you start with that process if you can’t find it to make it less?’
‘But it’s a state – a state of being,’ replied Alicia.
‘Is it?’
‘Well, isn’t it?’
‘Life occurs for you as being complicated, but that doesn’t mean it is.’
‘So life occurs for you as being cold, so you wrap your coat around you – you make yourself warmer. Am I right?’
‘Yes! Perfectly.’
‘It’s not just that it is cold?’
‘No. There are some in the world who would find this quite tropical, I’m sure,’ replied the man.
Alicia looked at her companion and weighed up whether he was mad, plain old eccentric, quite intelligent in a quirky kind of way, or some combination. She thought he was at least harmless,
definitely sweet, and certainly quite sincere.
‘Well, I shall be off on the remainder of my walk.’ The gentleman suddenly rose. ‘Very nice to meet you,’ he said, bowing a little and tipping his hat to Alicia.
‘And you.’
Alicia watched him walk away and noticed he tipped his hat to others passing by, as though his personal code insisted he acknowledge every person he came within several metres of. She wished she’d spoken a little more with him; indeed, she felt he’d had yet more to say, as did she.
Oh, well.
Alicia thought it was the nicest conversation she’d had all day.
Satchel in hand, Alicia stopped by Dryden Cooper’s office on her way out.
‘You off?’ Dryden asked, looking up from his desk.
‘Yes, in a mo,’ Alicia replied, stepping in and closing the office door.
‘What’s up?’
‘Just wanted to let you know, I’m been shortlisted for a new position,’ Alicia stated.
‘You’re joking!’
‘Nope.’
‘Where?’ Dryden asked.
‘Columbia,’ Alicia replied.
‘New York?’
‘Uh-huh.’
Dryden remained stunned a moment while Alicia gave a hope-you’ll-understand smile.
‘That’s a big change,’ Dryden commented, settling into the idea.
‘It’s the right time for Pete and I, and we think we can probably get Tim into more advanced treatment in the United States,’ Alicia responded.
‘And your research … ?’
‘…. will be part of a broader programme there and across much of the East Coast,’ said Alicia.
Dryden paused. ‘Well, good for you,’ he said, smiling back at her.
‘Thanks.’ Alicia took a deep breath. ‘I’ll … let you know.’
‘Good. Good,’ said Dryden.
Alicia turned and left the office quietly.
‘They’re negotiating nuclear weapons reductions in Geneva today,’ Pete mentioned, as he strolled across Lincoln Square with Alicia.
‘Good, but I’m freezing – can we hurry up?’ Alicia put her arm through Pete’s and pulled in close.
‘Aren’t you interested?’
‘No, I’m fucking cold!’
‘Fancy a pash under the arch?’
‘My lips are nearly frozen and my tongue’s practically hanging out. No!’
‘Worth a try.’ Pete grinned as they quickened their pace through Exchequer Gate to the Cathedral close.
‘You don’t think I’m going to be too much of an outsider, do you?’ Alicia asked.
‘No more than everyone that goes is,’ Pete replied.
‘So you’re a bunch of oddballs then?’
‘As best as I could describe it: yes. C’mon, here we are.’
Pete steered Alicia through a small front gate and up the short path to a cottage front door. Just as Pete went to knock, the door opened anyway, as much to Loraine’s surprise on the inside, as to Pete and Alicia’s.
‘Hello!’ Loraine exclaimed. ‘Do come in.’ She stepped back, pulling the door wide open with her.
‘Hello, Loraine.’ Pete smiled, stepping in and kissing his host on the cheek.
‘You lovely man, how wonderful to see you! And you, Alicia! Come in, come in! I was just shooting out to the gate with the milk bottles, head on in. I won’t be a tick,’ she said, scooting out the front door.
Pete took his coat off to hang in the hall, keeping a foot at the front door to stop it slamming shut in the wind. Loraine tottled back in from the gate just as quickly as she’d gone out, and Pete closed the door behind her.
‘Brrr, it’s cold out. Well, come on through then,’ Loraine repeated, guiding Pete and Alicia down the corridor.
Alicia could hear the chatter coming through the door ajar at the other end, relieved at not having to walk into a quiet room where everyone would be bound to stare at the newcomer. She was surprised then when most faces in the room they entered did turn towards her, and more so that a few cheers, whoops, and handclaps greeted her as she walked in behind her husband. She looked at Pete, raising her eyebrows questioningly, and then turned a grateful smile to the group in general.
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