The gentle gurgling of the river soothed her, as it always had. The golden sunshine warmed her skin as it trickled through the tall pines surrounding her. A soft breeze brushed her cheeks. She became aware that she had been smiling without knowing exactly why. She took a deep breath and filled her lungs with fresh Colorado air.
What happens to us when we grow up? she wondered. What happens to that sense of wonder and the belief—no, not belief ... the knowing—that all is possible, which we take for granted when we are children? What happens to the carefree spirit that comprises our natural existence? Returning to this spot rekindled all of those aspects of her being. They rushed back into her, as if they were living beings returning home, filling places of emptiness that she had not even been aware existed within her being. Here in this place she felt life surge through her ... here, where money was without meaning, personal status was unknown, and worldly accomplishments were insignificant. Did the trees care about her wealth or lack of it? Did the birds that soared through the valley inquire as to her right to be there? Did the air and sunshine judge her worthiness? In this place she could again remember who she was, and that the purpose of life was simply—to live! When had she learned how to forget all of those things?
She closed her eyes and allowed this sense of awe and wonder to fill her.
"Good afternoon, Father Angelino,” she chirped. Angelino had silently walked up behind her. She had not heard him, but sensed his presence nonetheless, without really knowing how. Gradually she was growing accustomed to these awakening awarenesses she was discovering.
"Hello, Susan. You are learning rapidly.” his voice carried obvious pleasure.
She opened her eyes slowly and turned to face him. “When do we move up to light sabers?” she cracked.
Angelino laughed. “When ready you are, young Skywalker.” Susan smiled brightly as he sat beside her. Together they surveyed their surroundings.
"This is a wonderful place you have brought me to, Susan."
"I shouldn't have taken so long to return here. I didn't realize how much I've missed it."
"One of the most difficult tasks we have is retaining the things that make us truly human, the things that compose our true essence."
"Father Angelino, why is it that sometimes I understand exactly what you mean and other times your words confuse me?"
Angelino picked up a stone and skipped it across the river. Susan smiled at this uninhibited action.
"Susan, enlightenment can come in two ways. It can be like turning on a spotlight in a darkroom, or it can occur gradually, like turning up a dimmer switch."
"How does a person know when they are enlightened?"
Angelino smiled at her. “When you are truly enlightened, you will not ask if you are."
Susan's face indicated her dissatisfaction with that answer. Angelino looked down at the ground near his feet in contemplation before continuing.
"Do you remember learning how to drive?"
Susan laughed as if remembering a disaster that became funnier with the passing of time. “I sure do. I almost gave my father a heart attack the first time he took me out driving."
"Driving was pretty awkward at first, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"You had to consciously think of all the steps and movements before you could make them ... putting the key in the ignition, starting the engine, putting the car in gear, checking for traffic before pulling out. Then while you were in traffic you probably had to focus very hard on keeping the car heading in a straight line. Am I correct?"
"Yes, Father Angelino. I found it very hard to steer straight when I was learning."
"But you practiced. You eventually got your license ... perhaps to your father's dismay,” his eyes twinkled playfully at the jibe, “and you drove more and more. Then one day ... and I'll bet you can't pinpoint the exact day ... you began to drive without thinking about it at all."
Susan's face brightened. “Yes. I think I know what you mean."
"You didn't have to ask, ‘Do I know how to drive?’ You just did it, without thinking about needing it validated. Enlightenment will come like that, as well. You will just know that you know that you know."
"You always make it sound so simple, Father Angelino."
He laughed. “Well, my child, it is simple ... just not always easy. But then, it was never meant to be easy. Nothing of value ever is. If we did not have to earn enlightenment, we would never appreciate the gift of it."
They both sat silently for a while, enjoying the peacefulness. After a long period of silence, Susan asked, “Father Angelino, what is going to happen now?"
"What do you think is going to happen?” She was about to protest his answering a question with the same question but he interrupted. “Don't resist the question. What does your heart tell you?"
Angelino had taken this approach with her often. Although he never specifically said so, it wasn't hard to discern that it was a form of training to help her develop hidden senses and discover hidden recesses of awareness. She still wasn't very good at it, however, and because she wasn't good at it, she became annoyed when he expected her to do it.
"I'm not sure, Father.” She knew she wasn't going to get away with that as soon as she uttered it. Angelino just looked at her with his “Tsk, tsk” face.
"What if you were sure?” he smiled.
Susan closed her eyes and wrinkled her brow in intense concentration.
"What are you doing, Susan?” Angelino asked.
"Shh. I'm concentrating."
"You look like you're in pain."
She opened her eyes and looked a bit wounded.
"Susan, you're trying too hard. Don't try ... just do it. Relax and let your mind go, just as you do when you do your meditation exercises."
Susan nodded determinedly and closed her eyes once again.
"Open your mind, Susan. Relax. Surrender your resistance."
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then another.
* * * *
Angelino smiled his approval. She was an excellent student. The key was to relax the body, then the emotions, then the mind. Once that was done, the true essence of the soul would naturally be released ... and with it, amazing powers. It wasn't something that you could summon up by will. Quite the contrary, willpower defeated the entire process. To bring forth the inner senses, one had to simply quiet the layers of being that tended to obscure them. Angelino had been coaching Susan in the disciplines designed to accomplish that.
Angelino remained quiet, allowing Susan her experience. When Susan had first suggested this place as their sanctuary, he had immediately felt it was a good idea. When they first came into the valley, his instincts were confirmed. This place truly was sanctuary. The coming days and months were going to be difficult ones. He knew he would welcome having this place to retreat to ... if only they could keep its existence secret.
At last, Susan opened her eyes slowly. She turned toward Angelino and he could see she had taken in more than her conscious mind could process. However, Angelino knew the inner being always absorbed all that it experienced, even if the outer mind could not. Slowly, her being and outer awareness returned to the valley.
"Did you get your answer, my dear?” Angelino asked gently.
Susan nodded vacantly. “I ... I ... think so, Father Angelino."
"Do you wish to share it with me?"
"A flower."
"A flower?"
"Yes, Father Angelino,” her eyes widened and her voice grew more excited, like a child trying to explain Christmas. “Oh, it was so beautiful. The most beautiful flower I've ever seen. It had petals of iridescent white and around the edges it was fringed with the deepest purple. And...” she stopped herself and bit on her lower lip as if what she were about to say would be too silly to share.
"Please go on, Susan,” he said reassuringly.
"Father ... the flower sang to me."
"Oh?"
"See, I knew you would laugh a
t me."
"No one is laughing, my child. Please..."
"It wasn't a voice that sang ... but I knew it was singing somehow. It was the most beautiful song! As if Heaven itself were singing its happiest melody.” She stopped. Her eyes were welling up with tears of profound joy. “Oh, Father Angelino, words can't describe it. It was the most wonderful flower ever."
Angelino closed his eyes and smiled to himself. Yes! She was the one. I have been right from the beginning. He silently said a prayer of thanks. Susan noticed his pleasure.
"Father Angelino, do you know what it all means?"
"Perhaps, Susan."
He sat silently, offering no more.
"Well...? Are you going to tell me?"
Angelino chuckled. “No, Susan, I cannot. No one can presume to interpret the visions of another."
"Then how can you say you know what it means?"
"If I were to tell you, then the validity of the vision would be destroyed. Only you can determine what it means for you. The meaning of the vision will reveal itself to you. For now, hang onto the essence of it ... hold on to the joy that fills your heart. Know that whatever the meaning of your vision, it is ultimately one of great joy and happiness."
"Has anyone every told you you're an old poop?” she pouted playfully.
He laughed loudly. “I think a certain Pope may have mentioned that to me a time or two."
Then he grew more solemn.
"Susan, there are many things that I cannot tell you. Not because I wish to withhold them from you, but because you must discover them for yourself. I will tell you one thing, however."
She looked at him expectantly.
"Do you remember that day when I told you that you carried greatness within you?"
"Yes."
"Well, Susan. I was more right than both of us could have known at the time."
* * * *
HAD ANYONE BEEN walking along a certain isolated road in the Colorado Rockies, they would have noticed a large van bearing the markings of the Genetic Engineering Project making its way slowly up the mountainside. A passenger car followed behind it. With its headlights groping the darkness, the van found a small access road and made the turn onto it. This road was rougher and the van slowed down even more. About a quarter-mile down the road, the headlights of the van revealed a small, unattended cabin surrounded by tall pines and aspens. The van pulled up as close to the cabin as the road allowed and stopped. The car parked alongside it. The surrounding countryside was thrown into total darkness as the headlights of the two vehicles were turned off.
For a brief moment, the silence was penetrated only by cricket chirps. Then the van doors opened and one figure emerged from either door. One also stepped out of the car. Flashlights were turned on and their narrow beams reached into the darkness.
"Is this the place, Mathias?” Steve said.
"Yeah. This is it. It's small, but nobody ever comes up here. We can hide here for a while."
"We'd better get him out of the crate,” John said, as he swung open the back doors of the van. A large wooden crate took up most of the space. The rest was taken up with personal effects and supplies. “Give me a hand."
The three of them lifted the crate onto the ground. John pried it open with a crowbar. Inside was Jesus. They had sedated him and then strapped an oxygen mask onto him so he would not suffocate from the confinement. They were all relieved to discover that he was still unconscious and more so when they realized he was still breathing. They had found some jeans and a clean shirt to dress him in. It was amazing how contemporary he looked dressed that way and lying there with the oxygen mask strapped to his face.
"Mathias, you go open up the cabin. John and I will carry him in."
Once inside the cabin, Mathias lit a kerosene lamp. Steven and John laid Jesus on a small sofa and removed the oxygen mask.
Steven couldn't help but wryly muse to himself that they had been enacting the exact opposite of the crime of murder. Rather than smuggling a dead body out, they were smuggling a newly created, living body in.
John said, “I'll start bringing in the supplies."
Steven looked around the cabin. Except for the lack of electricity and running water, it was pretty well furnished. He dropped down into a stuffed chair next to the couch and allowed himself to take a deep breath. It felt like he had been holding his breath for the 24 hours it had taken them to make the trip from Washington to Colorado. His body ached from tension he had been unaware of until that moment.
A half-hour later, the van was unloaded, Mathias had started a fire in the fireplace, and the three of them sat exhausted, while Jesus continued to sleep. There was no way to tell how long the sedative would last. At the moment, none of them cared. They were weary and wanted only to sleep. Without speaking, John began laying sleeping bags along the floor for each of them.
Mathias produced a transistor radio and switched on a listener call-in show. The topic of discussion was Father Angelino and his obviously insane rant that had been broadcast around the world. The caller was wondering how someone with Cutler's reputation could be taken in by such a thinly veiled attempt at publicity by someone who was clearly not playing with all his rosary beads. They listened for a while, just to see if there might be something about them on the news. They didn't really have any reason to think there would be and they were correct, there wasn't. Feeling a bit paranoid was natural, however, under the circumstances.
The three of them had not really discussed the merits of Angelino's televised address. They all had their own points of view on it, naturally. As if by some unspoken collective agreement, the topic was never broached. In their own way, each of them was dealing with the implications of the man they had resurrected from the Shroud of Turin. The silence being shared by them now was a part of that process.
Steven rose from his chair with some effort and walked out into the night air. The air was cool and refreshing. He looked upward and saw a forest sky teeming with stars ... more stars than he had ever seen in his life. A meteor dissolved in a fiery blaze of light just to the south. He had been born and raised in a big city and had rarely spent time in the country. Taking in the fullness of the mountain forest, he began to understand what he had been missing. Up here in the mountains one could almost forget everything and find a sense of peacefulness, he thought to himself.
He heard John's footsteps come up behind him. Neither spoke for a long time. Finally, John spoke.
"It's sure beautiful out here, isn't it?"
"I was just thinking that, John."
After another silence, Steven said, “I haven't thanked you yet. You took a big risk helping me with..."
"Forget it, Steven. This was too much to pass up. I should probably be thanking you. I'm still not sure what all of this means, but this is really huge, what we have done, you know."
"Yeah, I suppose so. But, I have to wonder if we haven't gone too far. Did we let our arrogance overrule our common sense? Did we go beyond where Man was intended to go?"
"I don't know. We're scientists. We could no sooner have passed up this chance than a fish could grow legs and walk."
Steven sighed. “I suppose you're right. I just can't help but wonder what we've unleashed here."
"Well, it's a little late for that now."
* * * *
Another shooting star streaked across the southern sky. For the moment, they could put their concerns aside and just take some time to regroup. This was the perfect place to do it. None of them really had any idea what to do next.
What they didn't know was that less than five miles away stood a cabin where Susan and Angelino were doing very much the same thing.
* * * *
TIMOTHY SAT IMPATIENTLY in front of his computer monitor. Where was he? Why hadn't Angelino been online? Surely he would have something to say to him. What was he up to? Certainly he must be aware of the opinion that most people had of him ... the result of The Council's machination ... that he was an insane lu
natic. This silence was more troubling to him than anything that Angelino might proactively attempt. After all the attacks on him in the media, why wasn't Angelino stepping forward to defend himself? So typical of him. Whatever you expected Angelino to do, he usually ended up doing the opposite.
Timothy started at the knock at the door. Cardinal MacArthur opened the door and entered tentatively. He looked shaken.
"What is it Gregory?” Timothy noticed his demeanor.
"Your Holiness, someone is here to see you."
"Who is it?"
Timothy was taken aback as Number One barged in past MacArthur.
"Number One!” He did not have the presence of mind to conceal his distress.
"Sit down,” Number One ordered. “We have things to talk about."
Timothy obeyed automatically. What was Number One doing here? The Council chief never risked exposure in public. What if someone observed? Only something of the gravest severity would bring Number One out in the open like this. Timothy did not have to think long to realize what that “something” was.
Number One got right to the point. “You have failed us, Timothy.” Number One shot a sharp glance at MacArthur and said, “Leave us."
MacArthur looked over at Timothy, a helpless expression on his face. Timothy nodded to him to comply. The door closed silently as Cardinal MacArthur disappeared through it.
"You have allowed this renegade priest of yours to threaten the Agenda,” Number One's dissatisfaction was undisguised. There was no time for formalities, and even less inclination to exercise them. “You know the man. What do you think he intends to do?"
Timothy swallowed hard. He had no idea what Angelino was up to, but he knew that was not what Number One wanted to hear.
"I think he is clearly acting irrationally. He just wants to undermine us and has always been opposed to the Agenda."
"Timothy, that is not good enough. It makes no sense for him to make public statements exposing us, unless he has a greater purpose in mind. I hope you are not making the mistake of underestimating him. We know his history well. He is no fool."
Shrouded Destiny Page 17
