In the distance, a strange noise cried out like a bird. Frightened it was not a bird, but possibly the Patridian guards, Thura jumped up and hid behind another, more densely branched pine. Sophia, unfazed by the unseemly noise, put her hands to her face and returned the same strange bird call to Odigo. Within minutes, the young man appeared and greeted the women.
“You haven’t traveled as far as I would have expected. Of course, you were probably waiting on Thura to catch up with you the entire time, right?” Odigo said with a sly smile.
“No. We were moving together the whole time,” Sophia said, walking directly past Odigo without looking at him.
The young man raised his eyebrows and looked at Thura, who in turn raised her shoulders and hands in bewilderment at the old woman leaving them.
“Call out to her, Odigo. Ask her where she’s going!” Thura said.
“What do you mean? Why me?” Odigo asked. “You’ve been with her the whole time.”
The young woman gave the young man a light-hearted but menacing look.
“Okay, okay,” Odigo said in resignation. “Sophia! You are going the wrong way! Where in the world are you going!”
Without stopping or even turning around to acknowledge the question, the old woman continued to hobble away into the woods before shouting back.
“Where I belong!”
CHAPTER 12
Prodido stood alone in the center of the dirt road running directly through the nearly year-old town. Staring westward toward an ocean veiled in darkness, his only sense was the warmth of the passing breeze. The windows of each house lining both sides of the road remained lightless, the townspeople still fast asleep, as the religious leader awaited Ochi for their early morning meeting.
From behind, the sun’s first rays began to disproportionately break through the uneven density of the woods on the east end. Remaining perfectly oblivious to his surroundings, Prodido only considered the possibilities of his imminent conversation. Savage cries piercing through the silence startled the religious leader. Prodido, turning toward the disturbance, noticed the dark shadows of what appeared to be three or four vultures and a lone wolf closing in on the carcass of a small animal. He could not help but watch the unending back and forth between the animals but then appreciate the reward of the wolf’s persistence.
“Good morning,” a voice called out from behind.
“Oh! Good morning, Ochi,” Prodido said, turning back quickly. “I was just admiring these wonderful creatures, and how dogged and relentless they are in satisfying their most primal and insatiable instinct. Ah! Praise God for his handiwork!”
Putting his arm around Ochi, the religious leader continued.
“Velos was the one who was instrumental in setting up this time for us,” Prodido began. “It seems we never have an opportune time to connect without others around. It is either at the family dinner table or after services. So this is genuinely a blessing to spend some time with you.”
“Likewise. What’s been on your mind?” Ochi asked.
“I have been thinking about this infant community of ours, Ochi,” the religious leader began, “and the amazing progress we have made in such a short amount of time through your leadership and hard work. But I cannot help but wonder if this infant community of yours is not ready to move from milk to solid foods if you know what I mean.”
“That’s certainly an interesting way of putting it,” Ochi said. “I’m not quite sure I would have described our town that way myself. But I have to admit you’ve intrigued me. Go on.”
Abruptly positioning himself in front of the leader, causing him to stop in his tracks, Prodido faced Ochi with a seriousness commensurate with the opportunity he perceived.
“The Lord has blessed you, your Excellency, if I may call you that,” Prodido said. “You are a principled leader with a strong sense of right and wrong, and the people see that in you. That is precisely why they respect you and have continued to follow you. You have given them the milk they have needed in this season. But the children are rapidly growing and demanding the kind of food you cannot provide. They need real sustenance, your Excellency.”
Ochi began to laugh as he found amusement, not only in Prodido’s unusual metaphor but more so in his early morning sobriety.
“I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee,” Ochi chuckled. “You sure know how to get really serious, really fast, don’t you? I like that.”
Sensing the opportunity in front of him, Prodido excitedly continued.
“A community cannot be made holy by virtue of a principled leader,” he explained. “You may guide them and give them direction, both of which you have done exceedingly well. But like branches of a tree, a people can only grow in holiness as they are rooted in holiness.
So my question to you, your Excellency, is how will these branches ultimately grow and flourish if someone does not order this community in a way that leads to holiness?”
Ochi remained quiet and pensive. While he proudly carried the weight and responsibility of being the de facto leader of this fledgling community, he was coming to realize his complete inadequacy as a visionary. But it was not a result of negligence on his part.
Ochi operated in a world of organization and function. He understood structure and found comfort in its rigidness and predictability. He had been the perfect leader to execute a detailed plan of building a community physically from the ground up and leading people through it. But seeing a future painted with possibilities and then navigating people toward that future was way out of his wheelhouse. So the thought of being their visionary was a weight he did not wish to carry.
“As you know, your Excellency,” Prodido persisted, “and speaking strictly as a man of God, the Lord judges those whom he places in positions of authority more severely. Whether you like it or not, or whether you are even willing to acknowledge it or not, you will be held to account by the Almighty for how you decide … ”
“Good morning, gentleman,” Kaleo interrupted from behind. “I want to apologize for my tardiness. Would you mind catching me up on what I’ve missed?”
Attempting to make light of the conversation, Ochi immediately turned and smiled.
“Well, my friend, you’ve missed quite a bit,” he said. “Prodido was just about to enlighten me on his spectacular vision for the future of this community.”
Raising an eyebrow, Kaleo rebuffed.
“You don’t say. Well, I think we’re doing a pretty darn good job of leading the people at the present. Don’t you think, Ochi?” he asked.
“Everyone seems to be getting along just fine, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
Prodido’s irritation with Kaleo being a part of their meeting was readily apparent. By meeting at sunrise, he had hoped to speak freely with Ochi without Kaleo constantly offering his own two-cent opinions on everything. But as Prodido well knew, Kaleo believed he should be by the leader’s side every waking hour as his head guard.
“As I was saying, Ochi,” Prodido began again, ignoring their new third wheel. “It is your responsibility to order this entire island in a way that calls it to holiness. Walk with me.”
The men walked westward toward the open space at the end of the dusty road. Their fleet of battered boats still lining the shore below. Prodido turned, facing the long stretch that ran directly between the newly constructed houses, as Ochi and Kaleo turned with him.
“This,” Prodido announced emphatically with a penchant for the dramatic,” is Patrida.”
The men stood in silence.
“What’s a Patrida?” Kaleo blurted out.
Closing his eyes in utter frustration, Prodido answered in a disgusted monotone.
“It means fatherland. This island shall be the land of God our Father,” he explained.
“Oh,” Kaleo mouthed.
“I like the sound of that,” Ochi added. “It has the sound of seriousness and sophistication like we’re a real town with a real identity. I even like the hidden meani
ng of it, too. Tell me more.”
“Well, the area in which we are standing will display a criminal’s gallows,” Prodido continued. “No matter where one stands in Patrida, they will be reminded of God’s justice for the wrongdoer.”
The whites of Kaleo’s eyes grew along with his disbelief. He expected Ochi to return the same reaction. But Prodido had already captivated the leader.
“Seems pretty gruesome and unnecessary. Don’t you think, Ochi?” Kaleo asked in an attempt to inject some common sense into the conversation. “Can you imagine people waking up one day with some sort of death contraption in their face? We have a good thing going here, and we’re doing things the right way. There’s no need to threaten people to be good. That’s not the way you do it.”
“Good morning!” a young boy called out, running up from behind the men.
“Tyran! What are you doing up so early?” Ochi asked.
“There’s my little buddy,” Kaleo said as he put his hand on Tyran’s head, messing up his morning hair even more. “You’ve got a good kid here, Ochi.”
“We’re discussing some important business right now, Tyran. Why don’t you go back to the house and see what your mother is doing,” Ochi instructed.
“The boy can stay here with us, Ochi. He’s no problem,” Prodido offered. “It is never too early to begin instructing a young boy in how to be godly, you know.”
“I appreciate the offer, but he can join us another time. Off you go, Tyran,” Ochi demanded.
“Very well then,” Prodido responded. “But back to your comment, Kaleo, before young Tyran joined us. And I say this with all due respect. One can only understand the riches of God’s mercy and forgiveness when they first understand the fiery rage by which God’s wrath and judgment burn toward the unrepentant. That is why the criminal’s gallows are essential. If the people do not understand judgment, how will they ever understand the path to freedom? Let’s continue.”
Prodido walked in a straight line down the center of the dirt road ahead of the two other men and opened his arms wide. Rising above the tree line and centered directly in front of the religious man, the sun’s brilliance appeared to be summoning them and calling them forth.
“There is only one way to freedom,” Prodido cried aloud, “and the people will know it intuitively as they walk along this road. The only way to travel from death to life, from enslavement to freedom, is along the straight and narrow path. This road shall be known as the Monon, for it is the only way.”
With Prodido still walking ahead, wholly lost in his plan’s grandiosity, Kaleo attempted to reason with Ochi.
“Does this not sound the least bit bizarre to you?” Kaleo whispered.
“Maybe from the outside looking in,” Ochi said without regard to the volume of his speaking voice, “but his logic is sound. People need to know right and wrong. They need to understand justice and punishment. Once I explain how this vision will help preserve peace and create greater freedom, everyone will be fine with it.”
Still whispering, but this time raising his voice, Kaleo responded.
“You mean you’re seriously considering doing this?” he asked. “Have you not listened to a single word at our gatherings? And what others have been saying to Prodido? The way some of them have started to challenge him and his ideas of faith and…”
“What are we talking about here?” Prodido interrupted. “Did I hear my name, Kaleo?”
“You sure did,” Kaleo announced. “I don’t like one bit of what you’re talking about, to be honest. I think it’s backwards the way you talk about God. I was just saying that people like Numa and Sophia talk about a God that changes people through love, not fear and punishment.”
His blood boiling at Kaleo’s constant distraction and interference, but careful to remain patient and composed in front of Ochi, Prodido invited the men to join him at the spring.
“This is where we shall experience the God of love, Kaleo,” the religious leader said. “We shall call it Sanctuary. For it is in this place of freedom where we shall gather each evening as a community to worship and experience the presence of the Almighty. And around these waters, we will build a sacrarium, a holy monument, to wash the repentant and make them holy.”
“I like it. I like it a lot. Maybe we should start calling you Father Prodido,” Ochi joked.
“Well, I want to go on record to say that I don’t like it at all,” Kaleo announced. “I’m not a religious scholar, but it doesn’t feel right to me. People can be holy without all the pomp and dramatic effect. I would go so far as to say that we can experience God anywhere, anytime. So yeah. This feels like a bit of a power grab to me, if I’m being honest.”
Prodido patiently watched the blood-red sunset fade into the vast black waters as darkness draped around him. Turning his back on the final light emanating from the horizon, the religious man walked along shadows while keeping an eye out for his new acquaintance. From a few houses away, Prodido saw the silhouette of a man standing at his doorstep.
“Heard you got your hands full, preacher man,” the man barked out.
“You have no idea,” Prodido said as he stepped onto his porch. “And please, call me Father. Father Prodido. Now, come in and have a seat at the table. I am going to call for my boys to join us.”
The tall, slender man walked over to the dark wood table and pulled out one of the matching chairs. But before he could sit down, Father Prodido returned with his two sons.
“This is my oldest son, Pali,” he said. “And this is my younger son, Machi.”
The man shook their hands and took a seat.
“Boys, this is Fovos,” Father Prodido said. “We have gotten to know each other over the last couple of weeks, and I find him to be equally comedic and resourceful. Now, while he and I chat, will the two of you do what I asked of you earlier?”
Without hesitation or a single word spoken, Pali and Machi promptly headed toward the door and exited.
“So tell me about this Kaleo character and what he’s all about,” Fovos said.
“Yes, yes, Kaleo,” Father Prodido responded. “Well, as you know, he is Ochi’s head guardsman, but I say that in jest. He neither has the legitimacy nor fortitude to be in such a position. He assumed it solely by merit of proximity to the leader. And as you have seen for yourself, his dozen or so guardsmen, if we can even call them guardsmen, are more helpful servants of the people than enforcers of the law.”
“So he’s the kind of guy that would put his foot in the doorway when you’re trying to close it, huh?” Fovos scoffed.
“That is precisely how I would describe him,” Father Prodido said. “And I am convinced that the way you get him to move his foot is by removing the man from the doorway entirely.”
Fovos, who had placed an old toothpick in the corner of his mouth, rocked back in his chair, put both hands behind his head, and nodded.
“I sure am liking the way you think, Father,” Fovos said. “While there’s always more ways to skin a cat than one, I appreciate a man who’s not afraid to just rip the damn skin off!”
Three knocks at the door preceded its opening, with Kaleo entering first and the brothers following closely behind. Father Prodido stood and greeted his guest.
“Kaleo, please, come have a seat,” the religious leader said. “I have been ruminating on our time together this morning. I believe we have unfortunately been moving in two very different and opposing directions in how we see this fine community’s future. I have called you here because I am desirous of us aligning our priorities. In fact, there is nothing that would make me more joyful than for us to get on the same page.”
“I agree,” Kaleo heartily replied. “When you have a good thing going, the best thing for everybody is to get along and then come together to work out their differences. So I sure apprecia…”
“That’s why I have asked Fovos here to join us this evening,” Prodido interrupted. “I am not sure if the two of you have officially met, but I can as
sure you he is a fabulous mediator.”
Fovos put down his chair and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. With a subtle tilt of his head, Fovos motioned for the brothers to take their place. Pali and Machi moved behind Kaleo’s chair, each putting a hand on a shoulder.
“Here’s the way ol’ Fovos mediates,” he said. “I say, and you do. See how that works?”
Kaleo sat unmoved in nervous silence.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” Fovos began. “You’re going to step down as head guard and move out of that fancy little house of yours. Where you take up residence is your own business, as long as it isn’t along this road. Alright, boys, we’re done here.”
“I’m not stepping down just because you say so,” Kaleo challenged. “And you’re crazy if you think I’m moving out of the house I built with my own two hands.”
“Oh. He wants to know the why,” Fovos said as he laughed and looked at the others. “Father, this guy’s a sharp one. He isn’t gonna do it just because we say so. No! This ol’ boy wants to know why!”
The four men surrounded Kaleo and began laughing riotously.
“You see, you’re gonna do it because today Ochi’s wife announced to the town that she’s pregnant with their third child,” Fovos said. “Now, is she really pregnant? Of course not. Does ol’ Ochi think he’s going to be a daddy? Of course he does. But no one has to know that she’s not really pregnant, you see. And I’m doggone certain she’ll announce her miscarriage after a few months.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Kaleo demanded.
“Well, as far as the boys and I are concerned,” Fovos said, “that’s your baby! And I’ll be happy to tell the whole damn town that you’re the daddy. Now, is that the why you were looking for?”
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