by Ian Newton
Chapter 9
First Lesson
Before parting ways, Connor gave his Caretakers directions to the old Miller house outside of town. He told them where to find the hidden key, where to locate the emergency food stores, and not to expect him until after dark.
He calculated aloud the cost of a horse, supplies, and the necessary bribes. There was a brief, passionate debate over the moral implications of bribery, but in the end, Ross conceded and counted out the coins. He put them in a small leather pouch and held it out to Connor.
Connor reached for the gold, and Ross said, “You know we make children’s toys out of this back where we come from.”
“Of course, you do,” Connor said sarcastically. “Isn’t that what everyone does with their extra gold?”
“When I was a kid, I had a miniature team of horses made of gold and silver,” Tarquin said. “Altogether, they must have weighed ten pounds. My little sister still plays with them.”
Lifting the pouch from Ross’ hand, Connor gave a half-hearted chuckle. The gold felt heavier than he expected, and he playfully tossed it in the air and caught it.
“It’s just kid stuff,” Tarquin said, trying to make the point clear. “We use diamonds and rubies and all the other pretty stones as decorations at parties. The little kids use them all the time on their dolls and toys. It’s all just play stuff.”
“Play-stuff huh?”
“We learn at an early age what’s important and what’s not,” Ross said, looking directly into Connor’s eyes. “Gold, silver, diamonds, they’re not much more than shiny metal and polished rocks.”
Connor’s grin split into a smile as he slid the pouch into his pocket. “You guys never cease to amaze me. Here I think you’re the wealthiest people I’ve ever met, but you don’t have a clue what to do with it.”
Ravi looked at Tarquin, confirming their suspicion that Connor just didn’t understand.
“What?” Connor asked, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re not expecting me to buy any of this, are you?”
Connor turned to Ross, but Ross just stared back, and casually asked, “What’s King Pridarius have that you don’t?”
“Other than a castle, an army, a fleet of ships, a queen, and an empire, he’s got lots of gold.”
“Fair enough,” Ross said, “but what if he didn’t have any gold, what if he never had any to start with?”
“Then he probably wouldn’t be the king.”
“If that was the case, how would Gothel Pridarius be any different than you?”
“I see where you’re going with this Ross, but it’s not going to work.”
“If you truly understand my point, what happens when you follow my reasoning to its logical conclusion?”
“The problem is your reasoning isn’t logical. This bag of play stuff,” he said, taking the pouch from his pocket and holding it out to Ravi and Tarquin.
“Play-stuff, right?”
They nodded in agreement.
Connor shook his head in disbelief and looked away. His eyebrows were smashed down, his lips were white and tense, and anger flashed in his eyes.
“This play stuff is what everybody in the real world works for! It’s what puts food on the table, clothes on your back and a roof over your head! It’s what separates kings from commoners, and you can’t change that! Nobody can!!” He glared at Tarquin, and shouted, “And you grew up with ten pounds worth of gold and silver that somebody made tiny horses out of?! What do you all take me for, a complete idiot?!”
Tarquin shrugged, and Ravi started to answer, but Ross cut him off by asking, “What if everyone owned ten pounds of gold Connor, what if everyone owned a thousand pounds of it?”
“Reality Ross, give me a question that deals with reality, then I’ll play along!”
“I’m not trying to upset you,” Ross said calmly. “Thank you for the hospitality of your home, we will see you when you arrive this evening.”
Ross motioned to Tarquin and Ravi, and the three turned away from the cobblestone road.
Connor stood watching them as they slowly made their way up the wheel-rutted hill.
“What?! That’s it?” he called after them. “What about my big lesson?”
Ross said something to Tarquin and Ravi that Connor couldn’t quite hear. They kept on walking while Ross stopped.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Took the second one and ran his fingers through his hair. On his third breath, he closed his eyes, cleared his mind, steadied his breathing, and finally turned around.
Walking slowly and deliberately toward Connor, he stopped when they were toe-to-toe. Ross lifted his head meeting Connor’s defiant stare with a calm, placid expression.
He said in his calmest, most non-judgmental voice. “You’ve already been asked the questions. You’ve already taken the test. All we’re doing now is debating the answers.”
Connor’s face reddened as his grip tightened on the bag of gold.
“If the gold in your hand defines who you are or how you treat others, then you’re about to walk into a place that will make you feel right at home.”
Connor was furious, “But it’s not a place you could call home?” The knuckles of his fist had turned white.
Ross’ tone was unphased by Connor’s anger, and there was kindness in his voice, when he said, “Connor, you have a great deal of knowledge, almost too much for your own good, but you lack the wisdom to apply it.”
Connor started to say something, but Ross held up his hand. Connor paused, quite uncharacteristically and waited for Ross to complete his thought.
“I confess that like you, even after all my lessons, after all my experiences, and after all I have seen and done, I too lack wisdom. The difference between us is I realize this, and I look to my teachers, to my lessons, and to the wisdom provided by others to guide me.”
“I’ve never had what you’ve had Ross,” Connor said bitterly. “My parents, well let’s not even go there. I’m an orphan. My lessons were taught to me with a switch or a fist or a boot. Where I grew up, you took first, or there was nothing left. For the longest time, I thought going to bed hungry was what everyone did.
Lying was a skill I learned early, and it was always every man for himself. I’ve never owned a new piece of clothing and until today, I’ve never held a piece of gold, let alone a bag of it.
According to you, having more than two coppers to rub together, or worse yet, using them to buy something is a bad thing. And from what you’ve said over the past few days, being respected for what you’ve earned and maybe even for what you have, makes you a bad person.
Can’t you see how different we are?” Connor’s face was tight with anger, and his cheeks had flushed bright red. “I told you, I’m a bad person. I’ve made bad decisions, I’ve hurt good people, and I’m right where I’m supposed to be; I’m outside the Kingdom!
Look at you!” he said, slipping the gold into his pocket and holding out his hands toward Ross. “You don’t just belong in the Kingdom. You should be leading the parade to get there!
As for me, well I’m just not like you. I’m the kind of person the Kingdom shoots Lightning at.” Connor spread out his arms, and shouted, “I’m the guy who got banished!”
Ross had been trying to hold back any type of emotional response, but his eyes misted over. With Connor’s arms still stretched out wide, Ross stepped forward and hugged him around the chest.
“What?” Connor responded in surprise.
His arms were still sticking out and after an uncomfortable silence, he slowly wrapped them around Ross.
“Was it something I said?” Connor asked, still feeling awkward in the embrace.
He felt Ross let go, so he did too. Ross stepped back and wiped the tears from his face.
“Humble,” he said, with a sniff. “I’
m sorry for not being humble enough or tactful enough or insightful enough. I lack wisdom and frequently feel unworthy to be your Caretaker. You are quite unlike the person I expected to meet at the Oasis. My preconceptions have led to assumptions, and for that I am…”
Connor interrupted, “Ross, I’m sorry if that was too harsh.”
“It wasn’t too harsh,” he said, placing his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “It’s just what I needed. Truth and honesty should never be avoided or withheld.”
“If it helps, I feel better for getting it out.”
Ross smiled, and his face lit up like a child. His smile spread upwards making dust filled wrinkles flare from the corners of his eyes. His forehead even wrinkled a bit, and Connor couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Connor said, feeling foolish for losing his temper. “I’m embarrassed about who I am and what I’ve done.”
Ross listened patiently, knowing he needed to understand Connor’s message without any preconceived notions.
“I miss Andrew. He was like a brother to me. And now, I guess I’m starting to realize I wasn’t even worthy of that.”
The smile faded from Ross’ face, but his expression remained pleasant. He nodded as Connor spoke, acknowledging the emotions and accepting the words for what they conveyed.
“Thank you for listening. I really am trying to figure out who I am.”
“I know you are,” Ross agreed. “And from your actions and your words, it appears you have lost your pride. Would you agree?”
“My pride?” Connor asked, in barely more than a whisper. His head fell forward as he spoke, “If you’re talking about my dignity or self-respect or what value I think I bring to this world, then yes, I’ve lost them all.”
“How did you lose it?”
Connor hesitated, considering the question. “I think they were taken, but I let them go,” he said, shaking his head. “I can go on lying to everyone else, but if it’s just you and me,” he paused and took a deep breath, letting his shoulders slump forward. He let the breath out slowly, as though he didn’t even deserve to breathe the air around him.
“Since it’s just you and me,” he started again without raising his head, “Once I saw how easily they could be stripped away, I knew I didn’t deserve them. It’s hard to explain really. One minute I was going to be the king of the world, and the next, I knew I was going to die, and nobody would have cared.
My pride took me to a place where they serve humble pie for breakfast. I thought I was passed that when I left the orphanage. I thought I was better than that. I thought I was…,” he trailed off when Ross placed his hands on either side of Connor’s face.
Throughout his life and especially during his formal education, Ross had endured countless lessons on pride. From philosophy to fact, he had learned and witnessed how this inner perception of oneself was a defining and driving quality of all humanity.
He was a boy born in the village, a place where only those who have failed can live. A place where the only hope of redemption rests upon keeping a single promise. He had taken his lessons seriously, and it was still difficult to understand the insidiousness of pride.
It wasn’t until this improbable event that the knowledge from his lessons manifested into something more.
Looking up, Connor saw the rounded reflection of his face in Ross’ eyes. Behind his reflection, behind the intricate striations of brown, Connor saw the kindness, the honesty, and the wisdom he knew he lacked.
Ross was looking at Connor, but he wasn’t focused on him. His mind had drifted into a place of deep reflection, a place of tranquility, and from this place he spoke.
“Capture this moment and everything about it,” he said, with incredible intensity.
“How you feel right now, right this very second, may well define the rest of your life. A man who abandons his pride opens many doors. If you can keep pride’s warm and comforting embrace away from your soul, you will walk a different path.”
Ross lowered his hands, but their eyes remained locked.
“So feeling worthless will make me a better person?”
“You’re close,” Ross said, with a glimmer of hope in his eye. “If you would allow me to share some thoughts from my village, you may come to see things differently.”
“We’re still debating the answers aren’t we?”
“Of course,” Ross confirmed, briefly dipping his head to acknowledge Connor’s astuteness.
“I’ll take the lecture or the lesson. Whatever you think might help.”
“Frankly I think lunch would help more, but that’s going to have to wait a little while longer.”
“It’s all right,” Connor said. “I’m used to being hungry. It doesn’t really bother me anymore.”
Ross and Connor stepped to the side of the road, under the broken shade of the trees. Looking down, they noticed a shallow culvert running next to the road. Ross motioned to Connor, inviting him to sit while he took a seat on the other side.
“I’ll try not to make it a lecture, and I hope my words only reinforce what you already know.”
“Fair enough,” Connor agreed. “Like you said, I’ve got nothing to lose by listening. I just hope I can translate the stories from your village into the real world.”
“I’ll do the best I can, and please try to keep in mind I claim no mastery of the things I teach. I’m only providing information that may or may not be of use.”
“My head is already swimming with information that makes no sense. Anything you can do to help me navigate the path ahead is more than I could ask.”
“It’s strange,” Ross mused, sounding far away, “the difference between knowledge and wisdom.” In a couple of blinks, he wandered back from these thoughts and enthusiastically announced, “Well, I don’t want to spend all day sitting here, so let me start by sharing a few of my favorite lessons. They’ve always stuck in my head, maybe they’ll stick in yours too.”
“Here’s hoping,” Connor said optimistically.
“You cannot fill a cup that is already full.”
“I guess that’s true, but what does it mean?”
“It means a lot of things, and I’m not going to spell them out for you.”
Connor pulled up a blade of grass, and asked, “Pride?”
Ross nodded.
“It’s an interesting comparison. I hope there is still plenty of room in my cup.”
“To the beautiful, the powerful and the wise, the mirror always lies.”
“The mirror always lies?”
“It sure does. Anyway, those are my two favorites. The last lesson I’ll offer you this afternoon is called the First Lesson. If you can learn the meaning and the purpose of the First Lesson, you will grow in ways that cannot be described. Many say it’s the first step of a very long journey, perhaps a journey that never ends.
I like to think of the First Lesson as a fishing pole that has a line with a bare hook at the end. It’s not everything you need to fish, but it’s a good start.”
“This is the stuff you teach the littlest of children, isn’t it?”
“It is the beginning, yes. And the point of the First Lesson is not to give away a fish. The point is to give away a fishing pole with a line and hook on it. There is an old proverb that tells us, if you give a man a fish you will feed him for a day, but if you teach a man to fish, he will feed himself for a lifetime.”
Connor laughed, and said, “I’ve never heard that before. I like it, it makes sense.”
“Depending on how hungry you are and how well you pay attention to what comes next, the more successful you’ll be in catching something.
Remember, if it were easy, we would call it catching, not fishing.”
Connor laughed again and threw his little blade of grass at Ross. “All right, let’s hear it.�
��
“You must listen to understand, not with the intent to reply.”
Connor repeated the words to himself several times, trying to commit them to memory.
“This is my fishing pole?”
“It can be, but only if you accept it for what it is. The First Lesson is all about listening without any preconceptions. Is that part clear enough?”
“It is now.”
“Good. So, here’s the problem you’re trying to overcome. When someone talks to you, you immediately start filtering their words, their message, and their intent.
The filter you use is so deeply ingrained within yourself, you don’t even know it’s there. It’s a combination of your experiences, your values, your opinions, even your perceptions. Basically, it’s what makes you the person you are. It’s what makes you unique.
The problem with your filter is it only lets you hear the things affecting you. And since this is the only information making it past your filter, it’s the only information you use to decide if something is right or wrong. If it’s good or bad.
Are you still with me?”
“Maybe, keep going.”
“So there you are, filtering away critical elements of what’s being said because you’re trying to figure out where you fit in. Without even realizing it, you start figuring out what the other person is trying to say before they actually say it. You’re creating a response before they’ve even finished talking because you stopped listening.
You can see the truth of the First Lesson every time someone interrupts. You can see it every time people offer advice or counsel when they were never asked for it. Or when they give a solution to a problem that has nothing to do with them.
For most people this whole filtering and getting ready to respond process isn’t a conscious decision. It’s what they’ve been taught to do their entire lives. It’s like they have to do it. If you pay attention in the Empire you’ll see it everywhere, it’s how everyone behaves. It’s how you behave.
People pass judgment on everything around them based on their own set of values, then they decide to agree or disagree.”
“So I don’t even know I’m doing this filtering thing, but I’m doing it all the time?”
“Yes.”
“And my filter lets me hear only what I want to hear because why would I care about anyone other than myself?”
“Good, now the trick is to turn off the filter.”
“How can I turn it off if I don’t even know when it’s on?”
Ross grinned, and said, “If you accept the wisdom of the First Lesson, then you know you have a filter. If you accept that it’s there, you can learn to turn it off.”
“How do I know when I’m filtering?”
“I’m sorry to say you’re always filtering. I can only help you recognize when your filter might be off. I say might be, because sometimes even when you think it’s off, you’re just listening to yourself.
When you stop trying to listen for information that will help you make a decision or judge a situation, your filter might be off. If you have no response other than “thank you” and no questions you’re hoping to ask, your filter might be off. If you can see from the other person’s point of view without regard to yourself, your filter might be off.
A good rule to remember is this. If you need to ask yourself “was my filter on,” then it was.”
“So that’s lesson number one?”
“It’s a lot to take in, I know, but just knowing about the filter may help you find new answers to old questions.”
“Does anyone ever come back for lesson number two?” Connor asked, with a grin.
“Very funny, and I’m sorry for the lecture.”
“It’s going to take me a while to process what you’ve said, but I think I understand. I’m still not sure how all that makes a fishing pole.”
“The First Lesson is just a tool, a foundation, a beginning point if you will. In time, you may learn to apply it. You may learn to turn off your filter, in which case you’ll actually be fishing. Without the First Lesson, you can never learn to fish. If you can’t fish for yourself, you will always have to rely on other people to feed you.”
“Can we go back to the whole pride thing? I still feel as worthless and embarrassed as I did when I got banished. Unless you can help me understand how worthless is helpful, I’m really not sure how I’m going to walk into the Empire and come out in one piece.”
“Excellent,” Ross exclaimed. “Let’s see if we can’t tie all these ideas together with some real world examples.”
“All right,” Connor agreed enthusiastically. “Let’s see if you can teach me and I’ll do my best to turn off my filter.”
“Good, here we go. Have you ever heard of a king who lost his kingdom?”
“Sure, I mean I guess. Mostly in stories, you know. Usually, there is a war or an invasion or something and the new guy wins and the old king is out.”
“What usually happens to the old king?”
“I’m not sure you ever really hear about that part, but I guess he’s either killed or he runs away or something.”
“Then it’s possible to be the king one day and nobody the next?”
“Or dead,” Connor offered.
“Or dead,” Ross added, with a nod of his head. “Is it also possible for these things to happen to ordinary, honest people who are just trying to make a living?”
“If you mean can a regular person lose everything overnight like the king, sure. It happens all the time.”
“Has it ever happened to someone you know?”
“Come on Ross, you’re looking at the biggest loser you’ll ever meet. It also happened to my father and to Andrew’s father and to Jacob Miller and to a whole lot of people we know, or I mean knew, and dammit, I said we again.”
“Stay with me here, I’m just trying to make a point with some relevance.”
“I understand. Please,” he said, waving his hand casually toward Ross, “keep going.”
“If anyone can lose everything overnight, how is any person in this world different than you? Why is your tragedy so unique?”
Connor didn’t respond, he just sat there chewing on a stem of grass considering the question.
“Did you know there are many more Sanctuaries than just the Oasis? Do you recall that as long as the Kingdom stands and even after it falls, the village must remain? An entire support network exists for those who failed.”
“I never thought of it like that.”
“Do you have any idea what drove these people to their point of ultimate failure?”
“Pride,” Connor offered flatly.
“Pride is used as justification for being who you are. It’s the result of you telling yourself what you want to hear. That way you can protect yourself from the realities of the world around you. It’s your filter’s sole purpose to fill your cup with pride, and when it’s finally full, or full enough, you’ll proclaim yourself to be perfect, you’ll be infallible. You’ll be the only person that matters. You’ll be blind and deaf to everything around you. If you’re lucky, you’ll wake up face down in the dirt one day wondering what happened.
And where does your pride go when everything changes overnight?” Ross asked.
“It disappears like it was never there at all,” Connor said, feeling silly and childish.
“Only if you’re lucky,” Ross said, with a hardened stare. “So you got kicked out of the Kingdom because you weren’t ready. You were knocked down in the dirt and had to pick yourself back up again. Did your pride pick you back up again or was it nowhere to be found?
Would you like your pride back now? You could go into the Empire and stick out your chest. Be a big proud man. Boast to everyone who will listen about your skills as a Blacksmith and a Cooper. Look down on all those little peop
le who have nothing, or on the timid but brave who’ve been wise enough to keep their glasses empty. You could laugh at the people who are just like you, whose pride was shattered by their own mistakes and harsh realities. Why not flaunt yourself, because everyone should know there isn’t anyone better than you.”
Connor was speechless.
“If you’ve got a chest full of pride you don’t even need to worry about tomorrow or the day after because everything will be fine. Unless of course it isn’t.”
“How are you at fishing?” Connor asked.
“I have good days and bad days, but it’s not because my fishing pole doesn’t work.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I forget to use it.”
Connor scratched his head and thought about what Ross was sharing. He pulled up another piece of grass and began twisting it around his finger while his mind wrestled with the First Lesson.
“Listen to understand, not with the intent to reply?”
“The First Lesson,” Ross confirmed, nodding his head and brushing a curious, little bee away from his knee. “I’ve given you enough to think about for the afternoon,” he said, getting to his feet.
He offered his hand to Connor, pulled him to his feet and they stepped back onto the cobblestones.
“Your path is that way,” Ross said, clapping him on the back. A small puff of dirt billowed off his shirt and drifted away in the breeze. “You’ve got a pocket full of gold and a list of items to acquire.”
Connor patted his pocket, reassuring himself that his treasure was still safe.
“I’ll see you back at the house as soon as I can,” Connor said as they separated.
“Connor?”
“Yeah Ross?”
“Maybe you should stop focusing on who you are or who you were and start focusing on who you want to be. That’s really all any of us can do.”
Connor turned to look at him, but Ross was already walking away.
“Now that’s some advice I can work with.”
“Good!” Ross called back, “Now go buy a horse, and try to find something that doesn’t taste like dried meat or old roots for dinner.”
“I’ll see what I can find,” he said, stepping confidently toward a place that seemed like home, even if it was only a memory of home; a memory that fell short of being his own, but was close enough to fool anyone but himself.
“And try not to bribe anyone!” Ross called out.
Connor starting walking backward, and called out, “I won’t need to. That’s not the man I want to be.”
It wasn’t long before Connor was approaching the rear, and subsequently least used entrance to the city.
“Be the man you want to be,” he kept repeating to himself. Lost in thought, he never even looked up at the two guards sitting on barrels or at the jumbled pile of stones mixed up with old gray mortar.
“And where do ya think yer headin’ off ta?” asked a short, round man from atop his barrel.
“Oh!” Connor exclaimed, jumping sideways in surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“Well now ya do!” snarled the other man. His tone was surly and the teeth behind his thin lips and unkempt beard looked mostly rotten. “The question’s been asked! What’s yer answer?”
Connor stepped toward the man and stuck out his hand. “My name is Connor Duncan, I’m new here.”
Ignoring Connor’s hand, the man stood up. He was at least four inches taller than Connor and very thin. His metal helmet tilted forward, almost covering his eyes as he looked down and spat onto the road.
Connor dropped his hand to his side and tried to keep a pleasant look on his face.
Placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, the guard sneered, “We didn’t ask yer name, boy. We asked where ya was headin’.”
Connor paused, and said, “Well, that sort of depends on the two of you.” He saw a third barrel off to the side of the road, and asked, “Do you mind if I pull up a barrel, and we can talk about it?”
The short, round man started laughing and pushed his friend, saying, “So’s we can talk about it!” He went right on laughing, as though it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
“So’s we can talk about it,” the tall man mumbled, “So’s we can talk about it?”
He took his hand off his sword and sat back down on his barrel. “Go on then,” he said, waving his hand toward the barrel, “git yerself a seat, and we’ll just sit right here and have a nice, little chat.”
Connor tipped the barrel over, rolling it until it was in front of the guards, but instead of standing it back up he just sat on it. He had to crane his neck to see the tall man’s face.
“What happened to your guard house?” Connor asked, trying to start up the conversation.
“It fell down,” the short one snapped.
“I can see that, but how?”
“What’s it got ta do with where yer off ta?” the tall man insisted.
“Nothing, I was just curious.”
“It was them waves a Light that done it,” the round man said. “We ain’t had time ta get it fixed yet, not with all the other damage that’s been done.”
Looking around, Connor asked, “Is that what happened to the gate?”
“That old gate popped right off its hinges, it did. Nearly took old Johnny’s head off.”
The tall man nodded enthusiastically, making his metal cap fall over his eyes.
“So you’re Johnny?” Connor asked, looking up at the tall man. Johnny held onto his pointed helmet, nodding his head some more.
“I’m Connor, and you are?” he asked looking at the short man.
“Shaker’s the name, that’s what everyone calls me anyway. Duncan, did ya say?”
“That’s right, Connor Duncan.”
“Any relation to old Jacob Duncan?” Johnny asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Connor said, looking up at them. “He’s my father.”
Shaker started laughing again, and he pushed Johnny. Between gasps, Shaker managed to say, “Did ya hear that Johnny? This is J.D.’s kid. He even looks like ‘em.”
