Revelations of the Ruby Crystal

by Barbara Hand Clow

  “Regardless,” Claudia continued, “now that Francis is pope, resistance will build up against him from conservative elements in the Church. For example, a Catholic fundamentalist movement became very strong during the dark days of John Paul II and Benedict XVI. These elements are entrenched and they will attempt to undermine Pope Francis. Considering how easily previous gains in the Church were reversed during the past forty years, we shall see how far the Church can progress. People are desperate; they look for hope where they find it, and Francis seems to be such a warm and heartfelt man. Maybe something different is going on, although I doubt it, as the conclave was full of corrupt men and Francis is a Jesuit, an order known for secrecy and political manipulation.

  She leaned back in her seat and shrugged. “If real positive change is coming, it would be because the world is exhausted by five thousand years of male dominance. I hope Francis represents the rise of the feminine to balance the masculine. He has even suggested he believes the feminine must rejuvenate the Church. But, you’d know he is serious about that if he advocates strong roles for women in the Church. Sarah and I went to the Sibyl’s Oracle near Naples to tune in to the lower dimensions to see if we felt earth forces regenerating nature, the basis of life. I’ve noticed Francis says important decisions require feminine intelligence, earth wisdom. Yet, there sits the Vatican on the midline with only men running the show while the true feminine dries up in the collective mind because men and women lack creativity in a techie world. Sarah, what does the Sibyl say now?”

  Sarah was concentrating deeply while listening to Claudia, so the question flipped her mind to a higher dimension. She replied in a clear and sure voice from another world: “Pope Francis alluded to the feminine in men as well as women. The true feminine is severely underrepresented in the collective mind. Feminine power is magnetic, which means it draws everything to it. It holds everything together like gravity; it may be gravity. Without it, things fall apart. When Sarah walked in the oracular tunnels, she felt the energy lines of the inner Earth. Realities shifted, signs the inner Earth is shifting. The lower world is a fast track propelled by those who flow with it, for example, the way Francis ignited the conclave. That is, our thoughts activate the telluric realm that affects us in our world. Francis may be reading positive forces in the collective mind accurately and moving with the lower energy pathways here in Rome; maybe that is why he knows when to act. There will be little resistance to Pope Francis in Rome, at least at first.”

  Armando was feeling lost in so much intellectuality, so he hadn’t heard much of what was said. Yet what Sarah had said about the inner Earth had jarred him, so he spoke up. “When I did the regression, I found a part of myself that was trapped in the lower world, which really is hell. The world we inhabit is purgatory. The hierarchy doesn’t realize it is trapped in hell, even though Dante made it clear eight hundred years ago. Perhaps Francis can nudge them into purgatory where they would have to change. Certainly the Church is not in heaven! My new paintings are layered to depict these three levels simultaneously very much like some Renaissance painters. The archetypal level populated with images and beings that exist within us is where I find the puppet masters. When I depict them, I feel them; they hover above us all. We can’t shift reality out of hell-bent destruction unless we detect what’s influencing us by seeing our parts in the drama. I think the Church will just dissolve in hell eventually because the hierarchy got too inflated and pulled the dark and light down into our world by means of liturgy, rituals, symbolic clothing, and abuse. It will implode no matter who is in charge or how many white doves are sent to fly. I hope Pope Francis has a sense of humor! At least he seems to be very kind. I’m amazed anybody takes a leadership role during times like these.”

  Eventually they all said goodnight to Armando, and Claudia went home to bed exhausted. She kept thinking about her return to the garden cottage, which had brought the ugly feelings back. She’d picked a dozen multicolored tulips and put them in a mason jar on the kitchen table. Then her last act was to scatter them on the tapestry coverlet covering the infamous bed. Drifting off to sleep, she wondered, Why did I go back there?

  She fell into a deep sleep and found herself rocking in a wedding bower—a great basket lined in gleaming white satin that was swaying in a tall tree over a winding pathway in the forest. The rattan basket leaned with her body weight as Umbrian folk music and birdsong filled the air. Her long ivory silk dress with blue scarves was spread out on the basket’s puffy satin multicolored pillows. It was 1912. When her lover walked down the pathway, she tipped out of the bower . . . I am sexy and beautiful, here to entice him as he comes!

  A beautiful man wearing a black satin tuxedo walks under the bower looking up. There on a nest he sees a golden goose with bright blue eyes and a floppy wide-brimmed hat tied with a red ribbon. The goose ties a blue silk scarf into a big bow while singing a love song. He grows feathers and webbed feet as his mouth and nose transform into a beak; his neck lengthens into the perfect curve. He is ready for her. Together they fly over a magical lake to a fish awaiting them for the wedding feast. For the female goose, slices of cantaloupe surround the large white fish. Orange cake bordered by cherries will be their dessert.

  40

  The Painter and the Photographer

  Jennifer Appel arrived in early May on a late evening flight from Paris to Rome, took a cab to the Hotel Gregoriana, and went straight to bed. Early the next morning, she strode briskly down the Spanish Steps on the way to her brother’s apartment. Flower vendors were already opening their carts, so she bought tulips and daffodils. She noticed she was being watched. A few men sidled by her when she turned to go further down the stairs, but her haughty and determined look easily put them off. She was wearing loose beige linen pants and a skimpy black T-shirt stretched tight across her chest by a large leather backpack. She wore a hammered gold choker that gleamed in the morning sun as if she was in Rome to conquer. Leering local men wondered what she carried in her backpack.

  She arrived at the apartment and rushed in to see Sarah’s smiling face. Simon clenched her in a bear hug and then held her back to see her face. “You look happy, Jen. Are you in love?”

  She handed him the flowers. “Oh, no, not at all. I just love walking around Rome, especially in the spring. Your apartment is wonderful! We’ll have such a marvelous time. You are glowing, Sarah!” she said, admiring Sarah’s rounded belly under a loose white blouse. “Those pearls are fabulous. You look Edwardian, just perfect for being photographed in Rome. Simon, go put on a linen jacket, something romantic! Sarah, also bring a pretty shawl, maybe a hat, a few accoutrements to flatter you. I’ve got my cameras, so I’m all ready!”

  They rushed around grabbing what they needed, but as they were heading out the door Sarah’s phone rang. “Oh, hello, Sarah! I’m so happy I’ve reached you!” said a lilting, excited Italian voice. “This is Matilda Pierleoni! Armando will be here in a little while to prepare for a big show in Rome. Now that we have our country house fully open, will you please come visit this weekend and bring Simon with you? I am so anxious to meet him; Armando speaks so highly of him. Armando’s newest work is here now and he wants you both to see it. Do come!” Sarah glanced at Jennifer and Simon, wondering what to say. “Matilda, how lovely of you to call, and of course I’d love to bring Simon to your villa. However, Simon’s sister, Jennifer, just arrived from Paris to visit and photograph us.”

  “Oh, Sarah, excuse me for asking so much, but bring her too! We’d love to meet her. And she could take some photos of you and Simon in Tuscany! You could give one to William for his birthday in August. We’d love to have Jennifer come! You could even stop by Orvieto for lunch and a few photos.”

  Sarah needed to discuss it with Simon and Jennifer, so she said she’d call back in a few minutes. Simon and Jennifer couldn’t resist the prospect of staying in an ancient castle in Tuscany, so the visit was arranged and they went out the door. They had a wonderful day walking around taking p
hotos in piazzas, on the Spanish Steps, in the Borghese Gardens, in front of fountains, and in outdoor cafes. Jennifer took hundreds of photos and impressed Sarah with her focus and endurance, which nearly exhausted Sarah.

  On the following morning, Guido picked them up, and in a few hours more photos were taken in front of Orvieto Cathedral’s golden façade. Eventually the car made its way up the curving driveway up to Castel Vetulonia. The beautiful views of the countryside entranced Jennifer and Simon. Guido said, “Sarah, I assume you remember the room you stayed in and possibly the one your father stayed in? If you like, you and Simon can stay in your room, and you can show Jennifer to the other room across the hall? I will bring up your bags.”

  Sarah led them through the back gate where Matilda and Pietro waited. She took Matilda’s hand and kissed her on the cheek, and then she kissed Pietro’s glowing cheek. They both exclaimed over Sarah and her growing baby belly. Sarah smiled and accepted their gracious compliments, but she couldn’t help but notice the sadness hidden deep in Matilda’s eyes. Sarah turned to introduce Simon and Jennifer. Matilda took Jennifer’s hand to welcome her, as did Pietro, and then Matilda turned to Simon with a warm smile. She looked into his dark, intense eyes, taking note of his sweet and handsome features. “Oh, what a pair you make, Simon, and your beautiful sister is just as charming.”

  Both Simon and Jennifer smiled to acknowledge the compliment, and then they went up the back stairs to the front entry hall. Jennifer looked up to the vaulted ceilings and then cast her eyes down to the ancient worn stone floors in front of a magnificent wide stairway. “This is just exquisite! It is so lived in and warm and I think early Renaissance? What a magnificent great hall! Sarah, you did not prepare me! This is a castle!”

  Simon was taken aback by seeing what Sarah could have so easily chosen. He could hardly believe she’d resisted such romance and beauty. He was very impressed yet slightly stunned, so he took Sarah’s hand and blurted out, “Now, this is a staircase for a bride’s descent!”

  There was a pause while Sarah blushed, causing Jennifer to shoot them both a quizzical look. Always the perfect hostess, Matilda said, “Oh, yes, Simon. I came down these stairs as a bride, as did Armando’s older sister! When I was married here more than forty years ago, this hall was not restored, so our wedding was rustic and romantic. I will show you some photos while you are here. Now, go to your rooms to freshen, and we will all meet in the library for drinks at six when Armando will join us.”

  Sarah and Simon settled Jennifer in her room, which featured a heavily carved, dark oak medieval bed with a lavishly embroidered canopy. A sunny balcony with an intriguing view of a tower by a back courtyard beckoned. Jennifer looked out and exclaimed, “I will just sit there all afternoon! See you for dinner. But wait. Who is Armando?”

  Simon and Sarah exchanged quick glances. He said, “He is their oldest son, a painter. We have recently become acquainted and I’m sure he will enjoy meeting you!” Jennifer rolled her eyes and showed them to the door.

  Sarah opened the double doors to her room and led Simon in. A profound silence gripped them both as they stood gazing at golden Tuscan fields bathed in late afternoon sunlight. They were enthralled by the distant views of amber patchwork hay fields and grapevines in many shades of green and red interspersed with old walls and winding roads. Double rows of cypress trees marked neighboring ancient villas and roads. Simon said in a wistful, quiet voice, “If Armando had not attacked you it would have been hard to resist this. This is every woman’s secret dream! His parents are delightful, this villa is magical; you might not have been able to turn him down.”

  “Simon,” she replied thoughtfully, “it did all appeal to my vanity and my fantasies but being with Armando never felt quite right. Once he did what he did it made the decision pretty easy. Besides, he was not meant to be my husband, only my friend. You are my love.” He embraced her, running his fingers through her hair and enjoying the feel of her rounded belly against his. “ I think you might be able to feel little flutters,” she said happily placing his hand on her belly.

  At six the three of them went down to the library. Sarah had warned Jennifer to dress for dinner, so she walked in wearing a high fashion teal and gray geometric-print silk dress that resembled an abstract expressionist painting. It accentuated her long slender waist and slightly hugged her broad and strong hips. The neckline plunged in a deep V, offering subtle views of her small yet very shapely breasts, and a gold necklace with dramatic tourmaline teardrops accentuated her neck. Her entrance startled Armando; it was as if a tropical bird had flown into the library.

  Jennifer was so distracted by the library that she had to remind herself to focus on her manners. She noticed a tall, catlike man in a beige linen jacket standing by an alcove with a tall window watching her. He seemed to pull through the room toward her! She felt awkward yet curiously dominated as she approached Matilda to greet her. “Hello, Matilda. What a stunning and warm library! The vaulting looks medieval, yet most of what I’ve seen of your villa is Renaissance. Is this room medieval?” She waited for an answer while Pietro gazed at her, and Armando appraised every inch of her body.

  Matilda replied, “Yes, Jennifer. This room, my favorite, was the original great hall in the 1300s. This end of the castle is from the earlier period, as is the dining room. The kitchen area is the oldest part, possibly tenth century. I am so happy you like our library.”

  Simon joined them, saying with enthusiasm, “This is such a wonderful library! I could just stay right here forever.”

  Sarah noticed Armando standing slightly apart. “May I introduce you to Jennifer?” She crossed the room and took Jennifer’s arm to lead her away from Pietro. Jennifer took a deep breath and forced herself to look directly into Armando’s eyes, although she was exceedingly nervous. I have never seen a man as beautiful as this one. I could cast him in my lenses for a hundred years; he is luminous.

  Armando’s knees weakened when she came closer. This woman was the woman from his dreams! She seemed to fly into his chest and then fly out, distorting his vision. Cool waves flushed through his body edging out to rushes of hot fire when he extended his hand. Oh my god, I’m going to touch her. He took her hand and noticed it felt warm, so he held it for a moment lacing his long tapered fingers through her palm onto her pulse. His hand was locked into hers like a magnet. “Welcome, Jennifer. I do hope you like your room and your visit so far? It is my pleasure to meet you. If you enjoyed the afternoon sun out on your balcony, you may have noticed the square medieval tower just beyond the courtyard, my painting studio?”

  The electric silkiness in his fingers thrilled her as he continued to hold her hand. What do I do? Is this Italian? French guys do this when they want to go upstairs. She smiled gloriously, revealing perfect teeth. “Yes, I am happy to be here, so honored to be graciously invited by your mother. I cannot imagine anything more marvelous than this castle.” Then she boldly penetrated his sensual, distant eyes, which reflected her own enigmatic presence.

  “How excellent! I am sure we will have a wonderful time together.” He looked around acknowledging the others once again. “I am anxious to show all of you my work.” Armando knew the others realized something big was going on. Simon could tell Jennifer was extremely attracted to Armando. This made him a little nervous. But he knew his sister was a strong woman who could hold her own, certainly more experienced than Sarah had been. Matilda and Pietro beheld the stunning woman standing by the window with their son as if she’d always been there. Watching them, Sarah recalled the first time she had seen Armando in that room. She’s older than I was and he is a different man; she can handle him.

  The party of six lingered with wine and sparkling water for Sarah. Once the conversation began, it flowed like a perfect dance. Jennifer relaxed in a large Windsor chair feasting her eyes on the books, rich fabric, and art. Armando came over to sit on the edge of a heavy oak bench next to her and said, “Everything is in this library, so please feel free to come
down for books. Don’t miss climbing the spiral staircase to the upper balcony where there are more.” He knew this lovely woman was very taken with him. Her classic angular features and large dark eyes were exotic, and her body was strong yet delicate like Simon’s. She was confident, bold, and didn’t hide her attraction to him. He felt playful, so he said, “I feel like I’ve seen you before. Have you appeared in Parisian magazines, or did we know each other in another lifetime? I know that sounds like a naive come on, but I don’t mean it that way. I am sincere.”

  What do I say to that? Making sure nobody else was listening she said, “Maybe there is something in me that reminds you of yourself?”

  “Well, if so,” Armando said, laughing, “then I must be beautiful inside, which I never thought was the case. Forgive me, Jennifer, I am an artist and I must say, you look exquisite in this room. It’s as if it has been waiting for you.”

  Jennifer replied very discreetly in a low voice, “Since you are also an artist, I will not think of you as merely a flirtatious Italian. I accept the compliment. Now, may I return the favor?” He showed his assent by smiling enigmatically. “You are very elegant and serene; you would make a fabulous subject.”

  Armando tilted his head and smiled more warmly, accentuating his sensual lips and alluring dark eyes; he liked her boldness. He said outrageous things to her, and she handed them right back. He felt free and playful, the way he had been long ago before life got so complex. She liberates me.