Children of the Source Page 11

  “Food. Clean up. Change of clothes?” I repeated.

  “A bath. Clean clothes,” he said, looking incredulously at his rags.

  People wore what they could get, altering the clothes as best they could with sewing kits gotten from the trading posts. The government trading posts sold only rugged heavy duty work clothes. The prices, subsidized, were small, but the clothes were quality.

  “A hot bath.” We picked up some clothes at the storeroom, and left him at the bathhouse.

  Jack Lazrus saw me and walked over. “Concerned?”

  I stared at the closing bathhouse door. “The man feels life’s an ugly tragedy. Daughter pregnant. Son-in-law caught some disease and died painfully. Nomads a lot of years. Worked some. Stole some.”

  “Who hasn’t?” Jack said. “Story of my life before here.”

  “True.”

  “Whatcha gonna say to him?”

  “Not much I can say. Listen mostly. Let the man get it outta his system.” Where was he going with this?

  “How do you tell someone who has experienced what he has that he has a hand in creating what happens to him?” Jack’s malicious grin made me chuckle.

  “If he really knew how it worked, he might want to join a union of personalities lobbying for better working conditions from their Entities. If that were possible.” I shook my head. “Very few people have any idea ... ”

  “So what else has your attention?” Jack said. “You tug on your earlobe when something’s bugging you.”

  “Something ... something. Can’t put my finger on it. The man has the smell of a politician or used car salesman. Right now it’s in feeling form,” I said. “The man has a history, but it’s hard to get a hold of. He’ll bear watching.” I smiled at Jack, remembering when he came to us.

  We didn’t always keep ourselves prisoners in our community. Sometimes, with care, we’d have an outing or picnic in the pine forests surrounding us, or go to the great reservoirs to swim or boat. One day at the reservoirs we found a man sleeping by the overflow intake of the new reservoir. He wore a pair of ragged shorts, and waking, pulled a worn and torn army blanket around him as some sort of shield of modesty or defense. Long matted hair and beard made a skinny underfed body even more prominent. And the wild animal eyes darted uncertainly over us. A crude small bow lay next to him, but he made no move toward it, perhaps seeing our guards and their crossbows.

  The clear blue May sky sailed only a couple of thin scattered clouds. Mike Roseman directed the guards to aim their crossbows away. He took a step forward. “Hello,” I said.

  “I’m not a wild animal.” The voice, a cold chiding whip, made everyone perk up.

  Becky Corn, old and irascible to the core, said, “You could have fooled me.” The man went red.

  Jana, her daughter, snorted. “Gawd, Ma, kindly shut your mouth.”

  “What’s your name?” Mike asked.

  “Jack Lazrus.”

  “How old are you, young man?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “Where are you headed?”

  “I was told to come here.”

  Becky arched an eyebrow. I could see it coming, dripping with sickish sweet sarcasm. “Really? By who?”

  “By whom, you old witch,” Jack corrected. “In dreams, Mister,” he said to Mike.

  “Okay. Where are you from?”

  “Salt Lake,” came the faltering reply.

  “Relax,” I said. “You’re not the only one acquainted with that forced labor camp. We aren’t going to turn you in.”

  His stance became less wary. Becky was casting around for something wretched to say. I gestured to the canoe. “Come on, let’s go canoeing before Miss Becky finds something interesting to impart.” That got everyone going including Becky who reluctantly followed Jana away. Jack and I put the canoe in the water. A fifty million gallon reservoir makes a pretty good-sized lake. I urged him into the canoe and as I paddled we talked. “My name is Jamie. Tell me of your dream.”

  He brightened, recognizing my name. “The Wizard. A dream to get answers,” he said shortly.

  “About what?”

  He looked off at the Peaks for a long while, then trailed his fingers in the clear water, making eddies. Finally he said, “To find out about the Teacher.” He saw the surprise on my face and took it for something else.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have come.” Then defiantly, “I’m not crazy. I dreamed. I know he’ll come from here. I just don’t know how or who.”

  Someone has the ball. “Why is it so important to you?” I paddled around Becky and Jana. Becky stuck her tongue out at Jack, who broke into a grin and laughed.

  “I just need to know. Are you the Teacher?”

  “No. Sure not. Just a generic man,” I said. “You’ll find out, though.”

  “You know, don’t you?” His voice held accusation.

  “I have some ideas,” I said carefully. “Join us and be patient, Jack. But be careful of gurus, self-proclaimed spiritual masters and psychic experts. Do you really need them? The ones you seek expect you to be responsible for your own spiritual development. Not be running around seeking it outside yourself from someone else.” The Ingathering. That was eight years ago. Now Jack was one of us.

  We talked until the older man came out of the bathhouse clean, shaven, with new clothes and looking refreshed. Jack excused himself.

  The older man offered his hand. “Ren Locus. Call me Ren.” I took it and introduced myself.

  “Elaine’s my daughter,” he said. “Been on the road a long time.” We went to the Dining Hall where he ate in silence. When he was finished, we walked.

  “I used to work in the copper mines before the shutdowns. Made good money, too. We lived on unemployment for a while, hoping things would change. Sold stuff, did odd jobs to pay the mortgage. Other stuff got repossessed. Everything went by the wayside. Unemployment ran out. Finally we lost the house. I was scared.”

  He hocked and spat. “We hit the road. Tent cities sprang up. Lived in a couple. Killed a range cow once to feed everyone. Then one day we ran out of gas, parked the car, and began walking. Life was hard. Mannie, my wife, died about that time. We buried her next to a tree.” Unshed tears filled his eyes, he pursed his lips, and ran his tongue over his lower lip. “Elaine took up with a young nomad. We stayed together for three years. Then about four months ago he took sick and died really painful.” We stopped and looked over at the reservoirs, half their thirty foot depth sticking up out of the ground, the rock and dirt sides lush with green clover. “I love the earth, the sky, the water, but I don’t understand what we’ve gotten into. The death, suffering, and pain make no sense.” He faced me. “People say you’re a miracle worker. The squatters down the road call you the Wizard. How do you make sense of this?”

  “You experienced it. People must make sense of their own experiences. What’s important to you now?”

  “Elaine. The baby.”

  “She’s fine. Still in labor. What else?” I said. “How do you view money?

  “Haven’t seen any in three years. Haven’t used any in five years. Don’t worry about it.”

  We walked toward the clinic. “You’ve lost your fear of money, material possessions. You value your family more. What do you want now?”

  “A good place to live. Out of the weather. Some place where we don’t have to look over our shoulders all the time. Be with good people I can trust. Raise good food. The basics. To be together and be happy.”

  “So you learned some things. Life isn’t as senseless as you think.”

  “What is its purpose?” He looked at me stunned and almost angry.

  “To learn. To be. We’ve pooled our knowledge here. It works.”

  “Why does it have to be so painful?”

  “Would you learn if it wasn’t?” I shrugged. We stopped at the stock pond and enjoyed the new mule Baldy. His rapid recovery pleased everyone. His big eyes watched us carefully, then he stomped a couple of times and brayed. We l
aughed. Baldy brayed the laughing hee-haws. I have never gotten used to the abrasive, up and down, squeaky hinged sound. It always leaves me startled.

  Suddenly Ren sat down on his haunches, covering his face. “God. I feel so weak. It just hit me. Took all my energy. What is it?”

  “Your daughter is birthing. Relax. Don’t fight it. She needs your energy. Let it happen.” I let my mind roam to the clinic. The birthing wasn’t especially hard, but the woman’s physical condition was nutritionally poor. She was also scared. Laith touched her shoulder. She gasped and relaxed. The baby’s head crowned and then emerged, slightly lavender. Helen asked her to push, and Laith caught an energetic boy. I looked back down at Ren, then something pulled me back to the clinic. Helen looked startled. Laith let go of the left leg. Everything looked normal so I turned back to Ren.

  We stayed by the stock pond until Ren stood. I gestured to the clinic. “Want to see your grandson?”

  He walked unsteadily toward the clinic. “Yes.”

  “Take it slowly. You gave a lot of energy to Elaine.”

  “Could you explain?”

  “Often people with emotional commitments to each other lend energy when it is needed. I remember once my father was getting a tooth pulled. We lived in the same town. Shortly after eleven I felt as you did - drained and exhausted and weak with an almost overwhelming desire to sleep. Later that day we talked, and he confirmed his tooth being pulled at the same time. He’d needed my energy. It’s quite common. Most people never think of it or connect the two.”

  “How’ d you know it’s a boy?”

  “Ever gotten a first impression and had it be right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s like that. Do it enough, you get good at it.”

  “Wizard stuff.”

  I smiled. Something didn’t add up with this guy, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Okay, Grandpa. Let’s go see your new grandson.”

  We reached the clinic and went in. A festive air ruled, mother and child together in bed, the boy fastened securely on a plump breast.

  “Hi, grandpa,” Elaine greeted her father, radiant.

  Ren smiled and bent to kiss her forehead. The child opened an eye, and Ren backed up startled. “Hey, there’s someone in there.” Everyone laughed.

  “No. I mean a real fully aware person. Like a big person in a small body.” He looked around for someone to confirm this.

  “Anyone you recognize?” Laith asked, coming into the room.

  “Talk about first impressions, I swear it was my brother Lance.” He waved a hand in disbelief. “Ahh, that’s impossible,” he said.

  “Why?” Laith asked.

  “Reincarnation?” Ren said, surprised. “That’s nonsense.” Then with artificial brightness he began, “You only go around once in life ... ” The baby howled.

  “Look again,” Laith invited.

  Ren bent. “Damn. That runty cuss died in ninety-eight. I don’t know. Seen a dog behave exactly like another dog who died earlier. People. I don’t know.” He rubbed a running nose.

  “Daddy? I did dream of Lance once or twice while I was pregnant. Never did think much of it at the time.”

  “What was he doing?” Helen asked.

  “Packing a suitcase in one dream. Next dream, a couple of weeks ago, he arrived at a new home.”

  “Good symbolism,” Evan said, his ruddy features looked pleased.

  “Good symbolism?” Ren looked from Evan to Laith.

  “He’s come home. A new home,” Evan said.

  “Well, maybe,” he began grudgingly, and the baby howled. Ren raised a hand defensively. “Okay. Okay. I’ll keep an open mind.” The baby went contentedly back to the nipple. The people laughed.

  “Where do we go from here?” Elaine asked her father.

  Laith spoke up. “Babies and new mothers require special attention. Why don’t you stay here a while. You’re welcome, and we can give you and the baby the care you need until you’re on your feet.”

  “Sure it won’t be an imposition?” Ren asked.

  “No problem,” I said. “We have extra places to live. All we ask ... ”

  “Is be good to yourself, each other, and the earth,” Ren finished genteelly. Right then he reminded me of an enterprising frog. I knew this guy somehow, but where? His familiar essence awakened a warning within me. Not someone to be trusted. Dangerous, but in ways unknown. It’s unsettling inviting a known problem into your home. Someone you can’t trust, and someone who is willing to hurt other people to entertain and satisfy themselves.

  A little later outside, Helen pulled me aside. “You don’t trust Elaine and Ren.”

  “Elaine’s fine. Ren’s been on the loose an awful long time. He doesn’t trust anyone, sees any organization or group of people as a threat to his freedom. He’s used to doing what he wants when he wants without constraints of any kind. Scary guy.”

  Helen stared at me. “You know this man.”

  “Yep. But I can’t place him. He’s already looking for weapons and planning to leave.”

  “He’s welcome to leave any time,” she said. “He’s not a healthy man.”

  I nodded. “What surprised you so much about Laith and the baby?”

  “What I wanted to talk to you about,” she said, taking my knowledge in stride. She did the same thing, and indeed had taught me how. “You didn’t see it?”

  “No. Just the surprise on your face.”

  “The child’s left leg was twisted almost completely around. Laith simply touched it and the leg remolded itself to a normal state. Never seen that before. What’s going on?”

  “Walk with me a moment,” I said. We strolled toward the bathhouse.

  Finally I said, “You’ve known Laith is very special, but haven’t known how to define it, half worried your suspicions are true, and this might ruin your future life together.”

  “True,” she said, the pain and worry barely hidden.

  “Your suspicions are accurate, but not your worries.”

  She stopped and looked at me. “The Messiah?”

  “No, not exactly,” I said and grinned. “May I tell you a story?”

  She laughed. “Okay.”

  “There are Beings, Entities if you like, who created the Earth. This is a staggering idea. The Earth is a living Entity in its own right. Conscious and supremely aware of Itself. But this you already know. You often lead us in communicating with the Earth. Laith is part of an ancient Being that helped create the Earth. One that has devoted Its self to helping the Earth through its many eons and years.”

  “And the Messiah idea?”

  “Simply that. A powerful idea birthed in myth and hope. Some people yearn for a Super Being, a benevolent God, that will take all their troubles away, right all wrongs, and make the world a paradise. There are Super Beings capable of this, but they would never take your free will away, nor would they create a mindless heaven on Earth. The Earth is built deliberately to create contrast, which in turn provides the extremes for learning. It has nothing to do with our versions of justice, morality, or good and evil. This, I’m afraid, would outrage our Mr. Hensley’s of the world.

  “Laith is part of an ancient Being, as are you, an Order of Beings, who act as Custodians for the Earth. Notice I said for the Earth not of the Earth. There is a very great difference. They act in concert with the very heart and mind of the Earth Entity to help accomplish Its needs and goals. The Earth has been host to a great many species, man being just one of them. Does this help you?” I took a deep breath. “Now, ask yourself some questions. Why do I feel I’ve known Laith forever? Where does that place me in the scheme of things? Why do I feel so connected to the Earth?”

  She stared at me. “Thank you, Jamie. It’s making sense now.”

  “More will follow. It, like many things, comes with impeccable timing.”

  “Got to get back to Elaine and the baby.” I bowed. She left.

  “You look like someone grabbed you by the unmention
ables and won’t let go,” Greg Lopez said, coming up to me. Always one to get at the heart of things. “‘Brooding darkly’, I read in a romance novel once.”

  “Crap,” I said.

  He laughed. “I usually don’t have that effect on people.”

  “Not you, Greg. Just something is up and I can’t define it.”

  “Maybe you’re not supposed to, Jamie.” We walked up to the animal barns, pens, and corrals. Always enjoyed the beasties. Goats and mules. Baldy was there, he looked at us, eyes wide and ears up. I smiled. I see them as equals - personalities in different bodies.

  “Every moment is the luck of the draw. Got to trust the moment,” he said. “Oh, there’s the Boss. Gotta go.” He waved at Alice, his wife, and left.

  Laith met me as I walked up to the clinic. “The birthing went well. We gave Elaine some Fennell tea to bring in her milk. Fortunately the uterus tightened up so it won’t bleed. Good in her run-down condition. Tonight we’ll see about getting her to walk to the Dining Hall. Do her good.” He stopped. “Got it figured out?”

  “Nope.”

  “It will come to you one way or another.” He grinned that impish grin of his.

  “That’s what I’m worried about. The another way.”

  Later that evening Elaine walked to the Dining Hall holding her baby. Ren tagged along, plainly excited about the wee creature and his daughter. He brushed his grey brown hair out of his eyes, and rubbed a rough hand over his new denim shirt. “You’ve changed,” he told her.

  “I’m a mother now, Dad.” Elaine gave him a huge smile and cuddled her new baby. Ren looked away, bland smile around darting eyes. They ate a hearty meal, probably the best they’d had in years. Our food is prepared with love and caring. That makes it much more nutritious. The same way we raise it, creating a fantastic abundance by communicating with the Earth, its many energies and those that support them.

  Elaine stayed at the clinic that night with Helen, Laith and Evan. We left Ren at a guest house. Mike Rosen stayed with him. Always good to have Mike keeping an eye on things. A no-nonsense man with a suspicious mind, his restless energy based itself on a near disaster that almost wiped us out when a band of jay hawkers infiltrated our community. We turned the tide, but lost three people. Most of the jay hawkers died. Ten in house-to-house fighting, and the seven we captured Carson hung on his great scaffold at the fort. Six others escaped to parts unknown. Carson’s soldiers found three of these dead of wounds. We played for keeps. It’s the only way when defending our own. We took no chances.