Rama Omnibus

by Arthur C.

  “My working hypothesis,” Johann said, not noticing her mirth, “is that the worms, or perhaps some less advanced egg or larvae form, are deposited in the nut bud at the beginning of its growth, when its exterior has not yet hardened… I collected some of those buds today. If you would like, I could bring them over now and we could test my hypothesis together. Although without a microscope—”

  “Dear Brother Johann,” Beatrice suddenly interrupted, “I would dearly love to know more about your fascinating plants, but I would much prefer a stroll beside the lake tonight. Would you care to join me?”

  “Of course,” he said, standing up. “Look, Sister Beatrice,” he then said defensively, “if you really have no interest in what I am learning…”

  “Don’t be silly, Brother Johann,” she said, laughing and taking his hand. “I enjoy sharing your research. I just like teasing you even more.”

  She led him down to the beach. It was not totally dark. The light in the sky or ceiling that had originally led Johann to the island always shone when the artificial daylight was gone, providing illumination roughly equivalent to light from a half-moon.

  “So what should I sing for you tonight, Brother Johann?” Sister Beatrice said merrily as they walked along the sand hand in hand. “You’ve been such a good sport about everything, I feel I owe you at least one request.”

  “Do you know all the songs from The Phantom of the Opera?” he said, remembering her medley soon after they and their ex-Valhalla colleagues had all been gobbled up by the great extraterrestrial sphere.

  “Certainly everything that Christine sings,” Beatrice replied. “I played that part for three weeks at the Minneapolis Summer Festival in thirty-six.”

  “Then I’d like to hear ‘All I Ask of You,’” Johann said.

  “It’s a duet in the show, I’m sure you remember. Do you want me to sing for both Raoul and Christine?” she said. “Otherwise, it wouldn’t make much sense.”

  Johann nodded. Sister Beatrice let go of his hand and bounded out in front of Johann on the sand. She was wearing a one piece, white jumpsuit with red stripes on the shoulders. She turned, smiling, and began to sing.

  “No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears; I’m here, nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you.”

  Her voice had never sounded more beautiful to Johann. What he was watching was even better than the fantasies that his mind and heart had been creating during his moments alone ever since he had realized how much he was in love with her. The woman he adored was singing a love song for him.

  “…Say you love me every moment.”

  I do, Beatrice, I do, Johann thought, more than I would ever have believed possible.

  As the song continued Johann was swept away by the beauty of the moment. His heartache became so fierce that he could barely breathe, and a flood of tears burst forth from his eyes.

  “…Love me, that’s all I ask of you.”

  He could not say anything when she was finished. Johann stood unmoving in the sand, transfixed, tears running down his cheeks. Sister Beatrice approached him warily.

  “Are you all right?” she said after she noticed the tears.

  He still could not speak.

  “Dear Brother Johann,” she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

  He was awake most of the night arguing with himself. In the early morning, while Sister Beatrice was meditating, he swam several extra kilometers, trying to use up enough nervous energy that he could think through his dilemma with calm, measured thoughts. The extra swim did not help much. As soon as Johann started thinking again about the idea that had taken control of his mind, he became nervous and agitated.

  He knew that Beatrice was planning to take a bath after breakfast. He knew also that he wanted to see her naked again. What Johann could not decide was whether he should be sneaky, and watch her bathe from a convenient hiding place, or just boldly walk down to the beach and start a conversation, as if it were a completely normal thing to do.

  And what will happen then? he asked himself for the hundredth time. If she asks me to leave, how can I then violate her trust by watching from behind the rocks?

  But is that any worse, another voice in Johann’s head said, than being a Peeping Tom without her knowing it? Isn’t that an even bigger violation of trust?

  Johann had gone through many many scenarios, each with a different outcome. He was so preoccupied with his decision, which he had not yet completely made, that he hardly spoke to Sister Beatrice during breakfast.

  She noticed his unusual behavior. “What’s wrong, Brother Johann?” she asked. “Are you not feeling well this morning?”

  He mumbled something about a stomachache. “It could be those brown cereal grains,” Sister Beatrice said. “I’m not sure our digestive systems can handle them after they dry and harden.”

  Johann continued to eat his breakfast without saying anything. “So what are you going to do while I take a bath?” Beatrice asked innocently.

  I’m going to spy on you, he thought instantly, so that I have more images to drive me crazy in the middle of the night.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I might go back to sleep… I swam a long way this morning.”

  “You really don’t look well,” she said after studying his face. “I wonder if there are viruses and bacteria in our paradise after all.” She leaned over and felt his forehead. “You certainly don’t feel as if you have any fever.”

  My fever is of a different kind, he thought. One that I don’t think you would understand.

  When Sister Beatrice departed, taking with her the soap they had made by heating and cooling a mixture of herbs and thick fluids from some of the plants, Johann plopped down on his mat. I am not going to move until she returns, he told himself. I am stronger than my desire.

  He tried to concentrate on what his next round of experiments with the brown nuts should be, but images of Beatrice kept coming into his mind. After several minutes Johann stood up and left the cave, heading toward the beach where she was bathing.

  He crept up noiselessly to a vantage point he had selected the previous afternoon. She was not in her usual spot. In fact, although he could hear Sister Beatrice singing softly to herself, he could not see her at all. Johann left his safe hiding place and moved in the direction of her voice.

  She was on the sand on the other side of an unusually tall group of shrubs and bushes that were surrounding a single tree. Using one of the branches of the tree to support himself, Johann tried to lean around the bushes. When he still couldn’t see Beatrice, he leaned farther. The branch snapped and broke. Johann fell to the ground.

  “You startled me, Brother Johann,” he heard Sister Beatrice say a few moments later. She had hastily wrapped a towel around her midsection.

  “I was coming to see you,” he said, getting to his feet. “I slipped and fell.”

  Sister Beatrice’s eyes surveyed the entire scene, including Johann’s imprint on the ground, the shrubs and bushes, and the broken tree branch. Johann felt certain she knew what he had really been doing.

  “Brother Johann,” she said at length, looking directly into his eyes, “please don’t come upon me suddenly like that. Especially when I’m not wearing any clothes. It’s an issue of common courtesy.”

  Johann finished brushing himself off. “I’m sorry, Sister Beatrice,” he said. “I’ll try to give you more warning in the future.”

  She turned and walked back onto the beach. “That soap is all over my body and it’s starting to itch. I’m going into the water… I guess as long as you’re here, you might as well bathe too. The lake is certainly big enough for both of us, and I brought an extra towel.”

  Sister Beatrice dropped her towel on the sand beside the soap and dashed into the lake. Johann watched her naked body disappear under the water. He took off his clothes and rubbed the sticky soap all over. Johann noticed that Beatrice was looking away from the shore and not paying any attention to him. Hi
s heart already pounding furiously, he carefully fixed her location in his mind, took a deep breath, and dove into the water.

  Johann swam with powerful strokes, well beneath the surface of the clear water. He could see Beatrice’s lovely naked bottom when he was still ten meters away. Johann swam up to her, grabbed her legs, and turned her upside down.

  “You sneak,” Sister Beatrice said with a laugh, splashing him wildly when she was again standing upright. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

  He splashed her back. Beatrice dove under the water and grabbed his legs, trying to topple him. She was not strong enough. She surfaced right in front of him, her breasts barely underneath the water. Her wooden Michaelite amulet was resting just above the top of her cleavage.

  “You’re just too damned big, Brother Johann,” she said. “It’s not a fair fight.”

  He reached down and kissed her on the lips. To his surprise and delight, she returned his kiss. He opened his mouth a little. Her soft lips parted and their tongues touched, first ever so lightly, and then, as the kiss endured, her tongue began to move about, tickling his, driving him into an uncontrollable desire.

  “I love you, Beatrice,” he said when their lips separated. “Oh, how I love you.” He kissed her wet neck, then her forehead.

  “And I love you, Brother Johann,” he heard her say just before their lips touched again.

  The second kiss was even more passionate than the first. Johann lifted Beatrice out of the water. With one hand on her buttocks, and the other behind her back, he carried her, while they were still kissing, all the way to the beach. She had both her arms around his neck. He laid her gently on the sand and knelt beside her.

  Johann removed his lips from hers. His mouth moved quickly down her body to her right nipple, which he caressed softly with his tongue before widening his mouth and engulfing as much of her breast as he could. He had never known such desire. Johann reached down with his powerful arms and forced her legs apart, sliding his body on top of her.

  “I can’t, Brother Johann,” he heard her say. “Please don’t.”

  Johann opened his eyes and saw the face he adored only a few centimeters away. She was frightened. “Please don’t,” Sister Beatrice repeated entreatingly.

  In an instant both of his options flashed through Johann’s mind. His exploding desire told him that Beatrice couldn’t possibly stop him now, and that she certainly would forgive him eventually. After all, she had enticed him with her kisses…

  With enormous willpower, Johann threw himself away from Sister Beatrice and onto the sand beside her. Trembling from the effort, he lay on his back for several seconds. Then he stood up, uttered a long, horrible wail, and dashed at full speed into the water.

  10

  It will be better if we talk about what happened,” Sister Beatrice said that evening near the end of dinner. “We can’t just ignore it.”

  Johann put his plate of sliced fruit on the ground. “I’ve already told you once that I don’t want to discuss it,” he said sharply. He stood up and turned his back on Sister Beatrice.

  “I don’t understand why you’re so angry, Brother Johann,” she said. “I have not accused you of forcing yourself upon me, and given the circumstances, I would expect that my right to be upset about the situation—”

  “I do not want to have this conversation, Sister Beatrice,” Johann interrupted her. He spun around, pain and frustration showing on his face. “Certainly not now… Maybe not ever."

  “But that’s childish,” she persisted. “How can we not talk about something so important? Up until now, our friendship has been based on honesty and trust. If we don’t share our feelings about last night…”

  Johann started walking away from Sister Beatrice and the fire. “Where are you going, Brother Johann?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “Somewhere else, at least until I understand what I am feeling. Someplace where I can’t see you, or hear your voice.”

  She heard his footsteps on the path. “Good night, Brother Johann,” she said.

  He slept on the beach not far from where the incident had occurred. When he awoke in the morning, Johann went for a very long swim. It was almost the middle of the day by the time he returned to their cave area.

  Beatrice was sitting in the cave nearest the fire. For the first time since they had arrived at the island, she was wearing a robe and a headpiece. Johann assumed that she must have made them either the previous night or earlier that morning.

  “I’m glad you came back, Brother Johann,” she said. “I missed your company… And I was worried about you.”

  “Thank you, Sister Beatrice,” Johann said without emotion.

  “Have you had any breakfast?” she asked solicitously. “I completely peeled one of those large green melons, the ones you like so much.”

  She pushed a plate with the melon slices in his direction. He picked it up without comment and sat down with his back against the rocks.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and praying, Brother Johann, because of what happened yesterday,” Sister Beatrice said tentatively. “Please don’t be offended. I’m not asking you for a discussion—it was wrong of me last night to try to force you to talk about it—but there are some things I would like to say to you, to clear the air, so to speak…”

  Johann continued to chew his melon in silence.

  Beatrice took a deep breath. “In my heart,” she said, “I guess I have known for some time that you were in love with me, and that you desired me physically. I deceived and deluded myself, Brother Johann, by insisting in my open thoughts that you and I were just good friends, like a sister and a brother, and that there was nothing wrong with the flirtatious play that we both enjoyed so much… Yes, Brother Johann, I enjoyed it too. More than I was willing to admit. It was a fantastic ego trip for me to be the object of your adoration.”

  She stopped, struggling, and looked away from Johann. “The worst part, Brother Johann, is that I tried to deceive God also. In my prayers and communion with Him, I never acknowledged what I thought you were feeling about me, or what I was truly feeling about you. It’s obvious why I didn’t. Had I suggested, even one time in a prayer, that I thought you found me sexually desirable, or that I could not stop myself from wondering what it would be like to kiss you, then I would have been forced to change my behavior… By not telling God what was really happening between us, I violated His trust, and undermined a relationship with Him that it has taken me years to develop.”

  Sister Beatrice paused again. When Johann still didn’t offer any comment, she continued. “I swore to God last night that henceforth I would tell nothing but the truth, to Him and to you. I promised that I would be alert to my self-deceptions and would set aside time every day to commune with Him about my feelings. As an outward manifestation of my renewed commitment to the vows of the Order of St. Michael, which are responsible for the greatest happiness I have ever known, I also promised Him that I would again wear the robe and headpiece of the order at all times, to remind me, in case I might ever again forget, who and what I am.

  “It is now time, Brother Johann,” she said with increasing tension in her voice, “for me to tell you the truth. I do love you, as I told you yesterday, more than I have ever loved another human being except Michael, but I will not abrogate my vows to God because of my love for you. I can now admit to you, to myself, and to God, that I wanted you to kiss me with passion and desire. Yesterday was thrilling, Brother Johann, and very very special to me. But it was wrong. Wrong for both of us. Wrong for me because I have sworn an oath to God to have no sexual encounters of any kind. Wrong for you because my behavior was misleading, and it most certainly confused and frustrated you.

  “What happened yesterday will not be repeated. Last night and this morning I apologized to God for my deception, and I asked for His forgiveness and love. I am telling you now, my dear, dear Brother Johann, how sorry I am for any pain that I may have caused you by my earlier ac
tions, and I promise you they will not recur. Please forgive me if you can.”

  Sister Beatrice smiled and held her hands out to Johann. He stared at her, a blank expression on his face, and then walked away toward the beach.

  Their lives changed in many ways. Sister Beatrice was true to her word. Johann never saw her when she was not wearing her habit. She suppressed her playful side, fearful that he might misinterpret any play as flirtation.

  Each of them spent more time alone. They continued to have their meals together, beside the fire, but they no longer slept in the same cave. Their conversations had unspoken boundaries, and focused on safe topics such as her sewing, or her experiences as a priestess of the Order of St. Michael, or his botanical investigations.

  They no longer swam together in the lake. His morning swims became more therapeutic in nature. Johann would continue to swim until he was so fatigued that he could not feel the dull heartache that was his constant companion. The heartache always increased in intensity each time he was about to see her again.

  Sister Beatrice did not sing after dinner. Sometimes, when he would return to the cave area after a trek across the island, Johann would hear her singing to herself. Usually the songs were religious. Nevertheless, it was many days before he could hear Beatrice singing anything without feeling a painful contraction in his chest.

  In time a numbness replaced Johann’s heartache. Beatrice no longer appeared in all his dreams. He still had no enthusiasm, however, for anything else in his life. Not even when he discovered that the worms were somehow a part of the brown nuts, and formed naturally inside the shells, without any external intervention, did he feel real excitement. His swims, his hikes, and even his scientific experiments were only planned diversions. At least as long as he was engaged in one of those activities, Johann did not torture himself too much with thoughts about his unfulfilled love.

  “I’m becoming very worried about you, Brother Johann,” Sister Beatrice said cautiously one evening after they had finished dinner. “You have not been yourself for a long time… At least not the Johann I thought I knew.”