Revelations of the Aquarian Age

by Barbara Hand Clow

  “Before you came, I had a long talk with Armando and shared what I’m about to tell you, the big secret that must be revealed, since to survive this perilous transition into Aquarius, all must be revealed. According to Calleman, the division line between East and West, the midline, is at 12 east longitude going through Tunisia, Rome, Berlin, and up through Scandinavia, basically where the East/West discontinuity exists. We are in Malta because it is close to this line, and many of us live in Rome or spend time here. The Rome vortex is marked by a huge pinecone sculpture in the Belvedere Courtyard in the Vatican, the symbol for the pineal gland. Stand next to it if you want to feel how Earth’s power pervades the Vatican and Rome. So, here is the big secret: Washington, D.C., is exactly 90 degrees west of Rome, making it the power center of the Western hemisphere. The Masons chose this location for the capitol and aligned all the streets and monuments to access Earth/sky power—as above, so below. Ovason says the most powerful configuration is the triangular complex on Pennsylvania Avenue that mirrors the equilateral triangle in Virgo formed by Arcturus, Spica, and Regulus, the star that rules kings.

  “Over time the U.S. abandoned its principles in order to sell armaments and torture. You once were growers of corn for the world; now you make weapons. The U.S. must disarm. If not, Earth changes, terrorism, violent weather, fires, and biological degradation will destroy your country. Unstable weather will cripple America if you continue to destroy Earth. The people you’ve armed are rising up, as are your own people.”

  David’s solar plexus locked up as he listened to Pietro; he was finally getting some answers. “Thank you for this. America’s Achilles heel is arrogance, and the power in Washington is weirdly arcane. American power is much deeper and subtler than I realized; I have a lot to think about. What I do know for sure is that this year is not going to be an easy one.”

  Pietro nodded in solemn agreement and put a hand on David’s shoulder when they stood up to walk out of the library. The glowing embers would be rekindled early in the morning.

  David got up late the next morning just in time for lunch with everyone. The first course, spaghetti Bolognese, was rich and grounding. “I’m jet-lagged and grateful for good Italian food. This is delicious! You haven’t gained any weight, Jen. How do you do it?”

  Jennifer was glowing with happiness. “I walk miles every day. If I didn’t, I couldn’t eat the delicious food dished up in this house. Here come the lamb chops. I’ll walk them off this afternoon.”

  “Well, you look absolutely beautiful. Marriage agrees with you, don’t you think, Matilda?”

  “Yes. We’ve been watching her blossom. Even her Italian is coming along well, much more quickly than with most Americans,” Matilda said, smiling approvingly.

  After the long leisurely lunch, Armando went back to his studio, and David and Jennifer settled themselves in her parlor. She wanted to talk with him alone because Sarah and Teresa would be coming for dinner and staying in the house for a few days.

  “I’m getting right to the point, since we don’t have a lot of time. I’m very happy with Armando and love living in this house. However, some very heavy and deep things are coming up for me, maybe because I’m so happy. A few months ago, I was torn apart by uncontrollable jealousy, so I got some help.”

  David studied her face, which showed a few small lines wrinkling off her unfathomable eyes. Maybe she didn’t sleep well last night? Nothing was said for a minute or two. “Why jealousy? Surely Armando is faithful?”

  “Oh, it’s not Armando, not at all, it’s me. I’ve been seeing a Jungian analyst. Now I realize I shut you out of my life when I was in Paris in my twenties. That must’ve hurt you. I’m truly sorry.” She looked into his thoughtful eyes giving him her hand, which he firmly grasped.

  “Well, yes, that was hard for me, but I thought you needed space to find yourself.”

  Her mouth pulled back into a slight grimace as her eyes watered and her other hand flapped back aimlessly. He listened to the clock chiming in the hall. She pulled her legs up onto the cushy easy chair and slightly hung her head. She hugged her knees as she raised a face now streaked with tears. “This is so hard. I have to tell you something very unpleasant because I’ll never be able to tell anyone else.” She coughed while sweeping the tears off her cheeks. “Even though you raised me with sound principles, I had a long affair with a married man in Paris, a man with three children. I almost destroyed his wife, but she outlasted me. He broke up with me, told his wife the truth, and they went into therapy to save their marriage. I was bitter until I found Armando. He doesn’t know about the affair, I won’t tell him; this guilt is mine. Meanwhile, I’m tortured with jealousy over an old lover of Armando’s, a woman who is his good friend. So I am in therapy.”

  David was churning inside. Her eyes pleaded, but he was disgusted. How could she do that after the way we raised her? “Jennifer, you know how I hate to hear this. Have you done anything to approach his wife to apologize?”

  “I’ve thought about that, but I think it would hurt her even more. She never met me, which I think is best. Hopefully they have gotten beyond it. It was my fault: I seduced him. Once I got him, like a spider I ensnared him in my web, torturing him with hot sex. I drove him crazy and almost destroyed him, proud of my power over him. Now I fear some woman will do it to me.”

  “You have to be very careful about this. The thoughts and feelings you’re having could trigger things in Armando. I have to say I hope now you see why it’s so important to be faithful.”

  She felt very uncomfortable, judged just when she needed kindness and support, so she stopped talking. David waited but knew she wouldn’t say more. She was always like that when she felt judged by him. “Jen, have you forgiven yourself? No matter what you did, it can always be forgiven. You can forgive yourself and let it go.”

  A small squeaky voice came out as she stared into his contracted hard eyes, “But can you forgive me?”

  David was torn. Was she asking for help with something she couldn’t forgive in herself? Would forgiving her weaken the sanctity of their family? Will Rose forgive her if I can’t? “Do you feel the pain this man’s wife endured? Do you realize their family could have been destroyed? She could have even killed herself because of you.”

  The searing pain in her heart was frightening. The truth is, I couldn’t go to him when I needed him, and I didn’t. That’s for sure, considering how he is treating me today. He felt her withdrawal and pain. “I can’t judge you. You were brave to tell me the truth, but I must be absolutely honest. You have not forgiven yourself, so it’s not about me. I wish you’d told Armando before you married him. Why didn’t you?”

  She arched back in her chair and stretched out her legs, staring helplessly into his icy eyes. “Maybe I’m just a predator. I tried to get a woman’s husband, and then when I wanted to marry Armando, I didn’t tell him the truth about myself even though he wanted to tell me about his past. Maybe I’m too obsessed with getting what I want no matter what.”

  David processed this new information, yet still he didn’t know what to say. There was a long pause. She should have been honest with Armando. But, that’s the past, damn it; get past the past! “Any one of us can change and become a person who wouldn’t act the same way again. What does your therapist say or advise?”

  She walked over to the mantle then turned to her father. “His name is Lorenzo. He says this is all about me. He wouldn’t have advised me to tell you, much less tell Armando. He says I can face myself, all the truth about what I’ve done, and when I’ve done that, I can be free. Yet, now I’ve told you and burdened you. I’m sorry. You’d be happier if you didn’t know.”

  David felt a flow in his heart as he remembered holding her and stroking her soft hair when she was small and feeling troubled about things in school. I think I didn’t feel she’d ever need me again. All I do is worry about Simon, yet she needs me too. He stood up and walked to her by the fire to embrace her and stroke her long black hai
r. “Who am I to judge? I love you no matter what you’ve done. Love is greater than judgment, a trait that dominates us way too much as Jews. I can’t judge you, I don’t. I simply love you for who you are. I forgive you, sweetie, I forgive you.”

  He held her tightly while he felt the resistance and pain flow out of her body. It would all be gone in time, the forgotten memory of a big mistake. As he held her by the fire, the long process of forgiving herself finally began.

  14

  Man on the Hill

  Sarah drove through the open gate of the Pierleoni garden. She parked close to the house and took Teresa out of her car seat. Teresa wanted to walk on the stone pathway to the front door, so Sarah held her small hand and guided her on the uneven surfaces. She seemed to be so small. Her eyes widened when she looked up at the massive wood door with menacing gargoyles on each side. “Grandpa, here?”

  “Yes, little one, Grandpa visits this house.” The door swung wide open and they stepped into the great hall. David rushed forward with arms out; Matilda, Jennifer, and Armando staying behind. Sarah moved to the side while David hugged Teresa. Then she stood aside smiling shyly, the perfect little princess.

  Matilda exclaimed, “Welcome you two! We’re so happy to see you. And Teresa, my, my, you look lovely.”

  Teresa smiled politely then screamed, “Grandpa!” and rushed to get back into David’s arms. For just a moment, time stopped while they enjoyed the happiness on David’s face as he hugged her once more.

  Sarah held Teresa’s hand as they all walked through the long hall of tapestries. The toddler peered up at them with attentive curiosity while David held her other hand pointing at flowering trees, mythical animals, and grand ladies and men riding horses. Following behind, Jennifer whispered to Armando. “Isn’t she adorable in that smock and fancy black patent leather shoes? She seems so grown up, yet she’s not two.”

  Hall of tapestries

  “She makes David so happy. I hope we will be able to do this for my parents, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I hope to be pregnant as soon as possible—the reason I don’t want to resume my work in Paris. I want to be here all the time to start our family.”

  “You are making me very happy, sweet one.”

  David led Teresa behind the tall bookshelves to a plush velvet window seat where a golden tabby cat lay sleeping. When Teresa reached for him, he raised his head, glared at her, and switched his tail. “Best not to touch him too quickly, Dante doesn’t like to be bothered. Would you like me to lift you up so you can sit next to him?”

  Teresa eyed Dante warily then nodded slightly.

  A maid in a black dress and white apron brought Teresa some fruit juice and asked David what he wanted. Dante got up and thumped down to the floor switching his fluffy tail. The other guests relaxed by the fire while David sat with Teresa, but soon she wanted to join the group. Her Auntie Jennifer stood with amber jewels glowing in the firelight. Teresa came near and stared at her with level eyes. “Hi, Auntie Jen!” Sarah had worked with her to say their names properly for days before David came to Rome.

  Dinner was soon ready, early because Teresa would not last long in the highchair. Beeswax candles and deep red wine were enchanting, and Matilda was surprised by how neatly Teresa fed herself while her eyes eagerly followed the action.

  Pietro was talking. “David, congratulations on such a lovely grandchild! Sarah, I can see you enjoy being a mother. Ironic, isn’t it? The world is a mess, yet we have our private joys.”

  Matilda was on Teresa’s other side and noticed the gleam in her eyes when a cherry tart came out. “Ah, Teresa, you like dessert? I do too, my favorite.”

  Matilda was very surprised when Teresa answered precisely, “Yes, I love dessert. And, I love your flower walls over there, Auntie Matilda.” She pointed, almost spilling her milk. Matilda looked over at the dark oak panels painted with delicate blue flowers on vines.

  Sarah caught Matilda’s eye. “She loves art and painting already. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “That’s great because I have some wonderful books of famous paintings for young people, the ones Armando loved when he was little.”

  Sarah was about to reply, but could see Teresa was getting restless after dessert. “Teresa, please say good night. I’m going to take you to play with the babysitter!” Teresa said good night to everybody, and Sarah returned when the main course was being served. Dinner was slow and pleasurable. It was a joy to be with David again.

  Jennifer and Armando sat by the fire in the sitting room next to their bedroom listening to the clock in the hall strike twelve melodious chimes. There was a scratch at the door. She opened it and in marched Dante switching his furry tail. “Hello, Dante, what are you doing up here tonight? Did that little girl bother you?” Dante ignored Jennifer and jumped up on her chair. He glared when she removed him to sit back down with Armando. “Piggy cat. My dad and I got some time alone to talk today. He is always so reassuring, a great father.”

  Armando was eyeing her sleek curves under an ivory silk peignoir. “He loves being a grandfather, gives him hope for the future. Anything special you discussed?”

  “I told him that we are very happy, but that I have been struggling with jealousy. The first thing he wanted to know is whether you were being faithful, and I emphasized it was about me.” Silk tickled her nipples when she noticed he was taking sneaky peeks. Come to think of it, what do I know about what he does?

  “I’d say it is a little soon to worry about that; we’re still honeymooning. You are gorgeous and sensual. Your breasts drive me crazy. When you stood up to let Dante in, I lost myself in your sexy ass.”

  Deflecting the conversation to sexual innuendoes, is he hiding something? Actually, he seemed a bit distant lately, but that often happened when he was painting a lot. “Too soon to worry? Are you saying eventually I will have to worry?”

  The conversation irritated him. It was time to take her to bed before they started this insane argument all over again. “Of course not, darling! You’ll never have to worry. I love you. Though there is something I want to bring up. But first, anything else to say about your conversation with David?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I know we agreed not to share our past, but I think we should be open about what we’re doing now. Do you agree? If you return to your career, you’ll be alone with men, photographing them in very intimate settings and maybe traveling for work.” He didn’t notice her eyes retreat. “Women flirt with me all the time during openings and I always tell you about it. Often you’re there and can see.” He noticed she was edgy. What’s she so nervous about?

  “That’s a good idea,” she said in a throaty voice. “Did something happen I should hear about? Did you do something?” she said in a mildly accusatory tone while watching his facial muscles.

  “Well,” he said rolling the l’s, “I didn’t do anything, wouldn’t do anything, but there is something you should know in case you hear about it and misinterpret it.”

  She was sure he was lying through his teeth. “What is it?”

  “Well, I asked Claudia to come to my studio last Tuesday because I needed help with the bee symbol in my painting of Mary Magdalene, the bee that came up in conversation in Tuscany. I feel like you’d want to hear it from me.”

  Mad and chaotic dizziness overwhelmed her; she couldn’t hear well, her vision blurred, and her throat closed. Armando seemed to fly away from her. She felt insane and wanted to get up and move, hit something, pull on something, but she stayed in the chair. Dante looked up with quizzical amber eyes and stretched out his front paws. Then he jumped sideways and rolled when a hot coal popped out of the fireplace. Armando got up and flipped the ember back into the fire. Jennifer wanted to scratch him because he’d brought jealousy back. She struggled for control. She had to defuse the tension by chitchatting, so she said, “So, then, what does she say about the bee? How long was she in your studio?”

  Armando felt his penis stir because she
’d leaned forward making her small breasts visible under the low neckline. He was sweating, felt dizzy in the back of his head, his skin felt scratchy and dry. Oh, God damn! The lizard! Barely audibly he croaked, “Down!” Her confused expression alarmed him. “Oh, the bee, well she was with me for a few hours because I made lunch since she was kind enough to come over. She loves Lorenzo, you know, really loves him.”

  Jennifer was feeling so crazy that her fingers itched to tear his eyes out. Her brain buzzed, chest was heaving, and she just wanted to scratch him or die right now. “Oh, so you talked about love with her, not the bee? Does she tell you how Lorenzo makes love to her?”

  Armando was looking at a mad Jewish shrew; he hated her. How dare she ask him things like that! Bitch! The lizard was burning his groin and making his penis hard. He said in the sly voice she’d heard once before, “We don’t need to talk about Lorenzo making love to Claudia, we need to make love ourselves, you bitch. Don’t you know that’s what keeps a man home? Come on you slut, come on and do it!” He went over and grabbed her left arm forcefully yanking her up. Dante jumped up with all four legs rigid and shot for the door with the hair raised on his back as Armando shoved her roughly toward the bed. He went to open the door for the cat, came back, and grabbed her arm again.

  She was contemptuous, yet relieved to just move. Jealousy was the worst feeling she’d ever had and at least his behavior allowed her to be angry with him instead of feeling crazy. She pulled his gripping hand off her arm saying, “I am your wife, you can do what you want with me, but don’t hurt me. Don’t, Armando, or you will be sorry.” She lay down on the bed and began pulling her peignoir up over her thighs staring at him with smoking eyes.