The Daughter of the Sea and the Sky

by David Litwack

  Jason was too tired to appreciate the change. The reception had run late and the subsequent cleanup even later. Then he’d slept poorly, tossing and turning all night. He dreamed he was sitting in his cubicle at the Polytech working toward a deadline. On the screen appeared a warning from Kailani, but every time he tried to read it, the bulb above his desk would buzz and flash in an otherworldly display of pink and green, obscuring the words. He awoke to find he’d overslept and, in spite of the nice weather, had to forgo his morning run for the first time at the farm.

  Now, he sat at the encomm and the words on the screen were perfectly clear, dozens of messages on the university network about the reception the night before. How could the news have spread so fast?

  He scrolled, bleary-eyed, and selected a couple at random.

  ~~~

  Posted by: HenryK | Oct 22nd, 5:18 a.m.

  Last night, I experienced my first miracle. At the farm’s open house, after a storm, we were fortunate to see the Northern Lights. Those of us accustomed to our rational world watch such phenomena dispassionately and analyze. Through the eyes of the girl from the Blessed Lands, I was able to see its true meaning—the blessing of the wind.

  ~~~

  Posted by: BarbaraJ | Oct 22nd, 6:07 a.m.

  I awoke after a few hours and have been unable to get back to sleep. I keep thinking about the scene from last night. The Daughter from the Blessed Lands has so inspired me that I will never be the same again.

  ~~~

  So inspired? Jason dragged his fingers through his hair and tried to replay the events of the night before. Long after the Northern Lights had faded to a memory and been replaced by more familiar stars, he’d been loading trash bags onto the farm truck for removal the next morning. Helena had kissed him goodnight hours earlier, and left to take an exhausted Kailani to bed. As he worked to finish the cleanup and join her, the great dark dome of the sky seemed to settle upon him, his own private but infinite universe. With it came a foreshadowing of his mortality, a sense of being alone.

  He’d dropped the bags he was carrying and scanned the clearing, hoping Helena had returned. He’d searched the porch of the great house and the path to the cabins. He scanned the wood line until his eyes teared, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the trees, but all he could see was the moonlight flickering off the wet leaves.

  When he returned at last to their cabin, he found her asleep. He kissed her once, twice, on the soft skin at the base of her neck. She rolled over, still asleep, and rested her head on his chest. He lay there, drinking in the rhythm of her breathing, the elixir of life, as he drifted off into dreams. By the time he awoke in the morning, she was gone.

  He fought off the memory and focused on the screen. What did these postings mean? He scrolled past a few more, too fast to read, then chose one at random.

  ~~~

  Posted by: NewWorldBeliever | Oct 22nd, 6:32 a.m.

  For those of you who need proof the Spirit exists, you should have witnessed what I saw last night. In our oh-so-rational land, we refer to it as a natural phenomenon, but seen through the eyes of a child from the Blessed Lands, it was a miracle. Check out this picture and believe.

  ~~~

  Jason positioned the pointer over the attachment but hesitated. He closed his eyes so tightly that colors flashed beneath the lids, his own personal aurora. Then he opened them and clicked.

  A photogram appeared. At its center stood Kailani in her white dress. She stared out, frozen on the screen, her arms raised to the sky and a blue light reflecting off the stars in her hair.

  Chapter 24 – The Admiring Host

  Sebastian understood little about Jason’s remarkable device, but he could see the impact on the farm. As stories out in the wider world multiplied, word began to filter in from family and friends. Soon lines formed at the entrance to the common room, waiting for a turn at the communicators, as curious members hoped to learn more.

  For the past two days, the farm buzzed with talk of Kailani’s newfound fame. Despite all his years as a manager, Sebastian could never predict how people would react. Some puffed out with pride at her celebrity; others thought it appalling.

  Jason and Helena were understandably outraged, claiming the chatter might endanger the child’s status with the tribunal. Sebastian finally gave in and intervened, suspending Jason’s workload long enough to let him deal with the crisis.

  Jason had asked for and received clearance from his supervisor to delete the most damaging posts. He’d explained to Sebastian that for the better part of a day, he’d poked around, following the chain of offending messages and removing them until he’d exceeded the Polytech’s reach. Then he changed his password, and began locking up his device in Sebastian’s office when not in use. There was nothing more he could do.

  To Sebastian, the breach of their sheltered world had been far from disastrous. Kailani seemed oblivious to her image flying over the comm link. Members remained respectful of her privacy, and following the reception, a few more donations had begun to trickle in. He wasn’t sure he saw the harm.

  Until the morning of the third day.

  The porch of the great house was scheduled to be enclosed with plastic insulation for the winter, so he decided to relax on a rocker and take in the still unobstructed view. The clattering of planks on the bridge interrupted his reverie. Moments later, he stepped off the porch to assist a middle-aged woman from an oversized sedan, a complete stranger to him.

  “How may I help you, madam?” he said. “Do you need directions?”

  The woman glanced around with the look of someone who was lost. “I’m not sure. Can you tell me how to get to Glen Eagle Farm?”

  “You don’t need to get there.” Sebastian tapped the birch wood sign with the tip of his staff. “You’re already here.”

  “Oh.” She seemed flustered. “And who are you?”

  He made an exaggerated bow. “I, dear lady, am Sebastian, the managing director of the farm. What may I do for you?”

  She glanced past him to the peak of the great house roof. Her eyes widened and a worshipful expression crossed her features. “I’m here to see the Daughter of the Sea and the Sky.”

  Sebastian’s brows froze in the down position, and his grin tightened into a thin line. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  “Not possible? Why would that be? Isn’t this where she lives?”

  “Madam, this is a private residence. We can’t have strangers showing up to see one of our members uninvited, especially a child.”

  The woman stared at him, incredulous, then wandered in a circle as if searching for someone with a better answer. When she returned to the starting point, her breath came in short bursts. “But I’ve come so far.”

  “I’m sorry, but the privacy of our members must be respected.”

  The color drained from her face. She fanned herself with one hand and staggered.

  Sebastian caught her by the arm. “Oh dear. Maybe you should come into my office and have some tea before you drive back.”

  With his help, the woman made it inside and collapsed onto a guest chair. When he turned to fetch the teapot with the cherubs, he heard a moan like a wounded animal, followed by uncontrolled sobs. He hastily finished pouring the tea and fetched the ever-ready box with the tissues.

  While she alternately sipped tea and blew her nose, he studied her. Great round cheeks accentuated eyes so swollen it was hard to imagine the lids fully covering them. They looked as if they’d been wet for weeks.

  Five tissues later, she composed herself enough to speak. “My name is Mary McAllister. I’m sorry, Sebastian, if I’ve broken your rules. I had so wanted to see her.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mary. May I ask why?”

  She appeared ready for another outburst, but took hold of herself.

  “It’s been such a hard year. I lost my son a month ago after a long illness. I have no other family, nowhere to turn for solace. Then a friend forwarded a message to me, the
story of that night with the picture of the Daughter. Mary, I said to myself, now there’s someone who can help, someone who understands your pain and can offer comfort. It was then I decided to make the six-hour drive to come here.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Sebastian said. “But I’m afraid—”

  “I don’t mean to cause trouble. I’ve read about the farm and understand the good you do here. Isn’t there any way I could see her?”

  Sebastian had seen the effect Kailani had on strangers at the reception. He thought about how far the poor woman had traveled, how distraught she was.

  What would be the harm? “Very well, I’ll see what I can do, but the best I can offer is a brief visit, no more than a few minutes. Please wait here while I go check.”

  As he left the office to find Helena, he heard a new round of sobs. He made a mental note to place an order for more tissues the next time the supply truck drove into town.

  ***

  Sebastian watched as Mary McAllister’s car drove off, trying to assess his decision.

  Helena had been furious with him when he suggested the meeting, insisting Kailani had been exploited enough. He determined to send the woman away, but Kailani piped up and said, “I’ll be glad to meet with her,” as if it had been the most routine request in the world. Helena stood by helplessly, her last bastion of resistance being to demand she accompany the child at all times.

  The three of them had taken a few minutes alone in Sebastian’s office to commune with the Spirit. When they called him back in, the look on Mary McAllister’s face had eased from desperate to serene. Before leaving, she asked Kailani to bless her. The little girl placed a hand on either side of the woman’s round cheeks and kissed her forehead, then exited, dragging an astonished Helena behind her.

  Mary McAllister had thanked him profusely, saying it had been worth the trip, then pulled a bankbook from her purse and proceeded to write a money order on the spot. Sebastian had forced himself to fold it and slip it discreetly into his shirt pocket without looking at the number.

  Now, as the car vanished around the final curve, he peeled back one corner and read the amount. His hand slipped from his staff, off the angry face and down to the sad one. Rarely had he been handed a donation like this, and never one for such an astonishing sum.

  He staggered back to his office and went behind the desk to the painting of the great house in winter, groping under the frame for the latch. The frame swung wide, revealing a small wall safe. Three spins of the dial, pausing at numbers only he knew, and the safe popped open. He deposited the money order inside, not daring to look at it again for fear it might evaporate. Then he locked the safe and reset the frame.

  He stepped back and admired the painting—another gift from an artist in pain, another gap in the heart healed. He loved the farm, prided himself on managing it well, on anticipating problems and fixing them, but recent events had confounded him.

  Mary McAllister had been helped and so had the farm. Had he exploited the child to do that? What did it all mean?

  As he pondered, a new sound came wafting on the breeze—more clattering of planks. He looked out the window, waited and watched, and gasped as two more cars came rumbling across the bridge.

  Chapter 25 – Madness

  Helena stood to the side as Kailani held court in the anteroom of the great house. The Daughter, as she’d come to be called, sat on the edge of an overstuffed chair offering solace to a pilgrim. She’d fastened the eagle feather from Sebastian in her hair with two aquamarine stones. It fluttered and bobbed as she nodded—strong magic to enhance that which she apparently possessed on her own.

  For three days they’d come, with more arriving each day. Kailani insisted on seeing each and every one of them, and Helena could only hover nearby, regent and protector. They came burdened with sorrow or self-pity, and left with a newfound hope—frequently with their wallets lighter.

  Helena couldn’t fault Sebastian; he’d never encouraged these people to come, nor had he solicited their donations. The funds raised weren’t for his personal benefit but for the good of the farm. Yet neither had he opposed the turn of events. With the conferences becoming a fact of farm life, the pragmatist in him took over. He moved some furniture to the anteroom and provided an ample supply of tissues.

  For the past few months, Helena’s days had dragged, the hours crawling by. Suddenly time seemed to be careening out of control. So many pilgrims, so much sorrow, and all the while Helena’s fears mounted—that the chasm gaping between her and her mother would never close, that Kailani would be taken away and incarcerated, that Jason would tire of her gloom and Benjamin’s abuse and go back to Albion Point.

  That she’d be left utterly, breathlessly alone.

  The pilgrim droned on. When he had nothing left to say, Kailani stood, gave him her blessing, and bade him farewell.

  As soon as the door had closed, the aura of the Daughter disappeared, leaving only the look of an exhausted nine-year-old.

  “Are there more?” she said.

  “You don’t have to do these,” Helena said.

  “Yes, I do. It’s why I came.” She removed the feather and stones from her hair. “Can we get ready for dinner now?”

  Helena felt as if she were back underwater, grasping the fistful of silt and groping for the surface; above her, through the vague sunlight, a familiar face.

  “You go ahead,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the barn.”

  After Kailani left, Helena fluffed the sofa pillows and fetched a fresh box of tissues for what would be an early session the next day. She froze, box in hand, sensing someone in the room. She turned, and there he stood, framed by the arch of the window, lit by the red light of sunset streaming through the curtain.

  Jason.

  He reached out and touched her bare arm. The tissue box slipped from her fingers and thumped to the floor.

  ***

  Jason could feel her trembling, but she said not a word. He listened for her breathing, her heartbeat, for any hint of what she felt inside.

  He held on until the trembling stopped and then led her to the front of the room. “Come sit and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “That’s Kailani’s chair.”

  “I’m sure she’d approve.”

  She sat and he perched on the arm.

  “I... feel so confused,” she said. “I....”

  When she struggled to find words, he finished the sentence for her.

  “...don’t understand what’s happening.”

  “I don’t know how to stop them. I don’t even know if I want to stop them. They keep coming.”

  “Why does she insist on meeting with them?”

  “Penance, she says.”

  “This is Benjamin’s fault.”

  Helena nodded, then shook her head. “My mother takes comfort from him, something I can hardly blame her for.”

  “He’s a zealot.”

  “Kailani seems to trust him—like a voice from the Blessed Lands. And these people... if these myths mean so little, why do they need them so much. What if we’re the ones with closed minds? Sometimes I want to believe too.”

  Her eyebrows bunched together until a crease appeared between them. When she frowned like that, she looked more like her mother than her father. For an instant, Jason pictured her climbing the Spirit Hill at sunset with a pink blossom cradled in her hands.

  He slipped off the arm of the chair and knelt in front of her. “He’s dangerous, Helena. Look at what he’s done to Kailani, how he’s put her at risk.”

  “Which of us is blameless? You and I brought her to the farm. Sebastian accepts the donations. My mother abandoned me. And I couldn’t save my father.”

  “You can’t possibly believe—”

  “And now I can’t even help Kailani.”

  Jason studied her for a long moment, then recalled Kailani at the Reflection Shelter and saw it at once. The mirror images—grief and penance. Grief was Kailani’s burden; Kailan
i was Helena’s penance.

  He grasped her by the hands and looked into her eyes. “You’re wrong. You did all you could for your father, and if he could see what you’re doing for Kailani, he’d be proud.”

  She stared at him and squeezed his hands.

  He held his breath. Please let me in.

  “Oh, Jason,” she said at last. “I need you.”

  She slipped off the chair and into his arms.

  ***

  Benjamin knew the routine: after the last pilgrim left, Helena would send Kailani back to the cabins to change and wash up for dinner. He waited behind the common bathroom, hoping to catch the girl alone.

  At last, she came down the path. The skip in her step had vanished, and she walked with her shoulders hunched.

  He stepped out of the shadows.

  “Mr. Benjamin.” She made a small bow. Since the pilgrims had begun to arrive, she’d treated him with more deference—like an elder.

  He responded with a bow deeper than hers. “Good evening, Daughter of the Sea and the Sky. I hope you’re doing well.”

  She looked downcast. “Not so well.”

  “But why? You’ve been sharing the Spirit with those in need.”

  “I’ve done penance like you told me to, but I still can’t speak to the wind.”

  “Absolution is not easily attained. I’ve been doing penance at the farm for many years, and only recently has the Spirit begun to speak to me. To complete your journey, you must be willing to give more of yourself.”

  “Like what?”

  “Only the Spirit knows. Perhaps if you told me why you need to do penance, I could help you find your way.”

  She wavered, but only for a moment. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Then your penance will continue.”

  “But for how long?” she said, more plaintive this time.

  He waited, allowing her yearning to grow, and then squatted, his face inches from hers.

  “Perhaps,” he said, “for the rest of your life.”

  ***

  When Kailani was late for dinner, Jason went outside to look for her. He found her shuffling toward the barn, dragging her feet and seeming more distraught than usual. In the distance, he could make out Benjamin’s slight form lagging behind.