by Curtis, Gene
Gunnison and Mr. Diefenderfer were there too, already sipping out of dainty cups.
Dutifully, Bekka poured hot water into cups and found spicy Tai and blueberry green tea packages for herself and LeOmi and they set about the process of steeping and dipping till everyone was contently sipping in the circlet of chairs around the hot water pot.
“As you know LeOmi, the Council has had time to consider your actions of the night spent outside of the school. Gunnison recommended the adoption of the orphaned coneys, which seems to have added stability, not to mention much joy, into your life.” As if the mention of coneys was their cue to produce themselves for inspection there was a stir in the book bag that LeOmi had set on the floor, but no noses peeped over the flap. They were content to wind themselves in the bottom of the bag and look up towards LeOmi in their quiet mode.
“Magi sometimes have to do things that an outsider may not think wise.”
Bekka hadn’t stopped fidgeting since they entered the room.
“Bekka, do you need to step out for a moment?” Gunnison folded his hands in his lap as to display the proper lady-like posture that she should be an example of.
“No sir. I was just wondering what direction this meeting is going?” She proposed her question to Mrs. Shadowitz, but Gunnison jumped in before she could answer.
“With your permission, Mrs. Shadowitz?”
She graciously bowed her head to give him permission to continue.
He nodded to her and proceeded to speak to LeOmi, “It is known that you have spent some time with Slone Voif and his followers.”
LeOmi nodded as she was prompted to do.
“We have some issues with Slone’s way of doing things. What about you, do you agree with his methods of–let us say –revenge?”
“She was confused when she first came to the school…”
“Miss McGraw, I believe I was speaking to Miss Jones.”
“Now Leo, there is no reason to be overly official, after all that is why we are here and not in the Council Chambers.”
He nodded and took in a deep breath before continuing. “Only you and God know your heart. We can ask, is daughter like mother—love of things or love of God?”
“Get to the point Leo,” said Mrs. Shadowitz.
“Spy for us.”
“What?” Bekka said.
Mrs. Shadowitz’s hand slightly raised and Bekka resumed the hands folded in lap position.
“Well, you already know what happened with the blanket at the moat. There was another incident just recently where Mark Young, Chenoa Day, Jamal Terfa and Nick Poparov were accosted by Voif’s gang. They stuffed them in trash cans while they were in the mall area.”
“Despicable actions from Magi students.” Mrs. Shadowitz shook her head and took another sip of her tea.
Gunnison looked at Mrs. Shadowitz.
“Please continue Leo.”
“We know that Slone has shown some attraction to you.”
LeOmi and Bekka both fidgeted in their seats at this remark.
“She can’t help it if he is attracted to her.”
Mr. Diefenderfer spoke up for the first time, “People are not…evil by nature…but rather…that they have…many inborn capacities…some for good…and some others…for evil…We must look…to see if…there is good.”
LeOmi got to her feet and faced Gunnison.
“What are you asking me to do?”
“Spy for us. There is no one better for this job than you.”
“NO! You can get somebody else.” At this she turned towards the door and her pace increased the closer she got to the door way.
“Remember you’re on probation…” Gunnison stood as well.
“She has…the right…to choose.”
Bekka stopped Gunnison before he could follow LeOmi.
“Why wasn’t I approached with any of this?”
“We all know how close you are to LeOmi. You demonstrated that at the last Council of Elders.”
“You know that there will be ramifications for her, her father and possibly the rest of her family too.”
* * *
Bekka knew where to find her.
“It seems that whenever you are angry, you go to a tree. I guess only those as close to you as I am would notice that, but that may be something you want to consciously change as soon as you can. Never allow yourself to be tracked by your habits.”
“What is that, rule number 45,589?”
“Something like that.” Bekka giggled and abruptly stopped.
“There seems to be a connection with being calm—and nature, I guess it’s because nature just listens. I feel that way too. I have loved this tree since I was a child.”
The coneys were perched in their favorite spots in the Olive Tree. Low enough so that they could see everything, yet high enough to stay out of easy reach. They had paths that they followed up and down certain branches almost as if it were a raceway track.
“Actually, an olive tree is a symbol of the ability to be a dutiful, loving and caring person.” Bekka picked up a few olives that had fallen to the ground. “This Olive Tree has a history. It is said to be a cutting from the olive grove that Caleb started when he was awarded Hebron, a share of the Promised Land in Israel.” “As you can see, they had to bring in a swimming pool of soil with it.”
They both couldn’t help but touch the trunk of the tree.
“Do you miss the oak tree back home?”
“Sometimes…The trunk was so big; I couldn’t put my arms around it.” She hugged the Olive Tree and looked up into the canopy.
“There was an old hornet’s nest up high in the branches of the old oak. I guess the salt air ran the hornets away.” She looked at the exposed roots. “My sister and I would walk around the tree, over and over again. There was no grass and we had exposed the roots in our path in the soil.” She moved her hand delicately feeling the texture of the wood, the life of the tree. “Lightening would strike it, wind would knock out branches, but it still stood tall and strong, as if to say, ‘I can take it, what else do you have?’”
LeOmi was silent for a moment. Then she asked Bekka, “Are you going to try to persuade me to do what they want me to do?”
“Nope. You have to make your own decisions.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem to make sense. It almost feels like it’s a trick and my decision is a test.”
“Gunnison has a different way about him doesn’t he?”
LeOmi nodded. She picked-up her book bag and called the coneys with a cluck of her tongue. They came immediately to the trunk of the tree and waited for her to jiggle the opening of the bag a little.
Sunset fast approaching persuaded them to leave the abundant food and shelter for the love and warmth of the bag which LeOmi quickly nestled onto her back.
“What will happen?”
“They can’t force you into doing something you do not want to do.”
LeOmi nodded and headed inside. Bekka stood and watched her go. The sunset closing the day.
As Bekka pulled out her notebook she said, “Or can they?”
* * *
Bekka surprised LeOmi when she met her at the rain forest as she had finished her tour for the day. Bekka was doing a little dance as LeOmi came around the corner.
“Well, you’ve got mail! Not from your father but from New Orleans, Dorcus Avenue. It is from your grandmother?” Bekka handed LeOmi an envelope that had been addressed to her father’s home in Virginia.
“I thought that you would like to read this in private, so I’ll see you later at the museum.”
LeOmi didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. She took the letter and went inside the shack at the rain forest. It was empty, like most of the time, so she let the coneys roam and opened the letter:
Child,
I have told you that one day we would discuss the things that pertain to your family history. Today is the day that we will begin. If you look for these answers on your own, my petit Yvonne,
be cautious. When a person does things excessively wrong, like your mother has done, they are always looking behind, to see who has almost caught them. She loved the thrill of it, always fascinated with the forbidden unknown places. I do not want you to always wonder who is fast approaching.
Your query was about the crest, whether I recognized it. Yes I did and you will notice the family crest as the letterhead has the same likeness in the second quadrant on the shield. This crest has been in the family for hundreds of years. A crossed scimitar and quill; the crest of the Neo-Phylum or that has been known recently as the New Order.
In the past I have asked, “What has brought you to me” in New Orleans in the first place. Still it is not clear. It has something to do with your mother, of this I am sure. Perhaps it is because you can only find your answers through me! You shouldn’t ask anyone else, and don’t tell anyone else of your questions. Not your father or your siblings. Not anyone.
There are those who play the role of pretender–those who pretend to love and enjoy their life. They cannot do it well if their heart isn’t in it, they cannot play the role flawlessly: dutiful daughter, loving mother –or both or neither. Whichever role your mother was playing, she played it, sometimes quite well, other times not.
I know that all things happen for a reason.
LeOmi, don’t be like your mother. Don’t lie—don’t ever lie. Don’t be like me and evade the truth, and the future. The pretender’s heart soon cannot be recognized by its owner.
Bonjour,
Your Grand-Mère
PS: I have been visited by someone who claimed to know your mother very well. He is a man of much authority here in New Orleans and other places as well. He has asked questions and made accusations that I find to be insulting and without basis. I have dealt with these things in my own way.
Since the Flags Match and the all night out episode, LeOmi had made it a point to learn more about Bekka. That included spending time with Bekka and…some of Bekka’s other charges, who were apparently nowhere near the amount of trouble that she was.
Sundays are rest days for all of The Seventh Mountain, students as well as teachers and counselors and every Sunday, Bekka and her father, Mr. McGraw, would spend as much time together as was possible. Generally the time was spent in the museum, where Mr. McGraw was also the curator, the Keeper of Artifacts.
The museum was located on the first floor sub-level of the school. The artifacts were there for study and they had come to The Seventh Mountain Museum from a number of places. Historic finds, personal collections on loan, recovered through war or by legal means. Some of it had been passed down to the museum since before documented history began. The museum was huge and there were glass-covered display cases everywhere. Each case held some type of artifact. Mr. McGraw was meticulous at what, when, where, how and why each item was stored at the museum and if any new information had been noted on the check-out sheet, it was to be dully recorded and documented on the item’s information page. Updates were made on a regular basis, and LeOmi was very surprised to see that many artifacts were checked out and used quite often.
The museum was also the location of the labyrinth. Twenty feet along the wall, a velvet rope held by two stands marked an area where the wall vanished once a day. No one had ever returned from it, so it was a mystery all in itself.
* * *
LeOmi handed Bekka the letter when she arrived at the museum. She read it in silence. She looked closely at the crest and then she handed the letter back to LeOmi.
They were both silent for a moment. Bekka put her hands together as in a short silent prayer. Then she said, “When I was young, my parents worked all the time, the same place that my father is working now, cloistered back in that office, their desks just across from one another. It’s a good cause and they were wonderful and so dedicated, he still is but I was an only child with workaholic parents. If I had known that I would lose my mother from a stupid accident, then I certainly would have spent more time with her. I suppose that is one of the main reasons that I hate to see you leaving your dad out of everything that you do.”
LeOmi turned her head, as if it were a physical blow.
“Don’t get upset. I won’t pressure you or say anything more about it unless you want me to. But anyway, I used to watch movies. I especially loved the Jimmy Stewart and John Wayne movies. There were others too, but they were my favorite actors. They always overcame overwhelming odds for the good of all—or at least those who deserved it. Do you know what I am talking about?”
LeOmi shook her head. “I suppose, but we had books.”
“Yes exactly, and you felt like you could take their place and be that person, even through their heartache.”
LeOmi didn’t say anything, but she was thinking about how sad she had been when she found out that her mother had wished that she had a different life.
“Oh, I can see that you aren’t thinking about it the same way that I did. It wasn’t that I wanted to trade in my life for another one; it was that I shared their heartbreaks and joy during the two hours or so that I watched the movie. I wish that you could have learned from those actors like I did.”
Bekka turned LeOmi to face her, “I was sad and lonely. I felt unloved. I know that you can relate to that. But if you could have anything—anything at all, what would it be?”
“I would like to know why.”
“Exactly, and this is what your grandmother is dangling before your face. You have been through the heartache and now you want the joy.”
“Joy?”
“Yes joy. You have been through more heartache than most people and…that joy part must be looking very irresistible. Just make sure and weigh the cost and see if it is an amount that you are willing to pay.”
Tears dripped from LeOmi’s eyes. “It seems like every time I get closer to an answer, there are more questions.”
“I have been thinking for a while, that we need to take you to an oracle, a seer, a person who can relay things that will happen in the future.”
“Mr. Diefenderfer is a seer.”
“Yes, but he has already sung to you. Mrs. Shadowitz can suggest someone, if you agree.”
“I do need some answers.”
“It is my experience that things may be just as plain as you please but it takes a perfect stranger to convince you that it is true. Do you ever wonder why that is?”
Chapter 13
If Trapped, Resourcefulness is Required
LeOmi didn’t know what to expect. This gift was something that she didn’t understand. Bekka reminded LeOmi of Debra from back in the Old Testament. Debra was a seer that judged her people giving divine knowledge from under a tree. But there was also the witch of Endor who used methods that were not divine, as in speaking to the dead.
Leah Jefferies was no witch and no judge, but she was gifted, after they spent time talking over tea and scones, Bekka left them alone.
“Now let me set you straight. I don’t read tea leaves or feel your aura, I listen. Do you understand?”
LeOmi nodded and set down her tea cup.
“I can see that you are an Anti-Empath. Do you know what that means?”
LeOmi again shook her head.
“Other people feel what you are feeling. Have you experienced that?”
LeOmi’s frown prompted Leah Jefferies to say, “Well perhaps you will notice that more-so in the future.” Then she began. She didn’t sing like Mr. Diefenderfer. She closed her eyes and bowed her head and then–it was kind-of like a list being read:
“You search for mother’s Journal…
“The six woes have plagued your family…
Covetousness
Desolation
Excess
Captivity
Iniquity
Destruction
“Beware. Your mother desired contrasting freedoms.
“Avoid the fog of war.
“There is danger in your future. To you, your father and Mark with the staff.<
br />
“The Ruby Knife is yours.
“Betrayal and death.
“Remember David’s Copper mines.
“Mark this, you are wise, The Eternal deals justly….
“The upright fares well under Him but sinners fall.
“In the end, invasion is unavoidable.
“Success isn’t sure, in fact failure is likely.
“One additional thing you must know. Time is running out.”
She opened her eyes and looked at LeOmi, “But I believe you already know that.”
* * *
Bekka and the coneys were waiting for LeOmi at their regular seat at The Quarters.
“Well?”
LeOmi had taken out some paper from Aaron’s Grasp and started drawing a circle with spokes like a wheel–like Henry’s Wheel of Four Ages, his Wheel of Life. She could see it was time for her to face her wheel also.
“My teacher from New Orleans had a wheel above his mantel at his ranch. I am sure that you have seen things like that before?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Well, Henry’s Wheel was a remembrance of the path that he took throughout his life. His father had one and I suppose his children will carry on the tradition. Anyway, it was big, about the size of the table tops at The Quarters. It was like a carriage wheel, delicate yet sturdy. It had twelve spokes that represented divisions in his life. Four of the spokes were bigger than the others and they represented infancy, youth, middle age, and old age.”
Bekka watched as LeOmi drew a crude shaped wheel on the paper.
“Each quadrant had two smaller diameter spokes that divided each quadrant of the wheel into three more sections. Henry divided them by seven so that the large spokes represented ages zero through twenty-one which was infancy, forty-two which was youth, sixty-three which was old age, and eighty-four which was death. Full circle. A vine was woven in and out of the spokes which represented the ease and difficulty of the paths that he took.