Walk With Me

by Annie Wald

  Faithfulness took pity on Celeste. He put his hands around hers and helped her dig the hole. Celeste reluctantly dropped the cards in, one by one. Then together they pushed the dirt over the cards. As they walked back to camp, Celeste felt sad for the dreams she had left behind and wondered how she would be able to be Peter’s partner without them.

  THROUGH THE WAY OF WINTER

  Before Faithfulness left Peter and Celeste, he told them there would be other guides ahead if they needed more help. “But even if you do not find these guides, persevere. You’re on the right track. Don’t give up. Forget what is behind and fix your eyes on the Servant’s path. Be careful though, because you will see other travelers taking simpler paths in hope they will be able to skirt around Skull Hill and the bridges of forgiveness. But you are bound to come to these places on the way to the King’s City. Though they will look unpleasant, do not turn away from them. Otherwise you might find yourself so far off the path that it will be very difficult to find your way back. And it would be better not to attempt the Mountains of Maturity during the winter cold. The climb is difficult enough in good weather.”

  Peter and Celeste left Faithfulness and continued through the wilderness. Celeste still pined for the comforts and dear friends she had left behind in the Orchard of Earthly Delights. She wished she could convince Peter to go back. But he was determined to march on, and she resigned herself to the hardness of the journey. Every day she felt colder than before. She was still on the path to the King’s City but her love for the King, which had once been a blazing fire, now was reduced to a handful of embers. She could have fanned it into flame, but whenever she considered the idea, she balked at the effort it would take. It seemed easier to drag along behind Peter, who seemed in better shape. As for Peter, he was so preoccupied with the journey, he never stopped to read the guidebook or ask for the King’s help, and his heart had also turned cold.

  They struggled to make their way over tree roots and rocks on the narrow path. It took all their concentration not to trip and fall. They had forgotten that when they relied on the King, He gave them His strength, and then they could be sure-footed like deer, leaping up to the heights. Instead they trudged on slowly and the cold became colder. They had given up their postcard visions but hadn’t replaced them with a warm love for each other. Peter didn’t think to help Celeste over the difficult spots, and Celeste didn’t bother to say anything if she noticed a better route. And as a result, they suffered a deep chill that shivered them to the core.

  The path became steeper, but they kept on going. If they had been talking with each other, one of them might have suggested they stop to look at the map. They might have checked their supplies and searched for an opening in the trees where they could see how far it was to the next camp. Then they would have seen the path was leading them up a steep slope that ended abruptly at the snow-covered Loveless Peak—without any way to continue. And they would have noticed a fierce winter storm was gathering in the west.

  Instead, they assumed they were heading up one of Mountains of Maturity and they kept walking up the sharp incline. Out of breath from the climb, they finally came to a halt. But they didn’t check their bearings. They only wanted to lighten their loads, and they went through their packs to see what they could leave behind. Then they did the most dangerous thing of all: they took out their kingly gifts and kept their heavy burdens.

  They struggled on as valiantly as they could. The trail, which had been taking them up the southern slope, curved to the east. After a brief stretch, it brought them to the north side of the peak. Clouds moved in and blocked the sun, bringing a frosty bite to the air. Even though their bags were lighter, they struggled to make the climb, and they hoped the path would soon flatten to make the journey easy again. But the trail curved around the slope and brought them to the north side of the peak. Ahead of them lay a treeless expanse covered in deep, crusty snow that led all the way up to Loveless Peak. Peter and Celeste gaped at the challenge before them.

  “How did we get here?” said Celeste, irritated that Peter had not stopped to check the map. “We’re getting very high up, but this doesn’t look like the Highlands. I don’t see how we can go on. You know how tiring it is to climb the smallest hill with the little travelers.”

  “Faithfulness told us to press on and keep straight ahead,” Peter said. “Weren’t you listening?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t say anything about snow.”

  “He said that if we came to an unpleasant stretch, we shouldn’t go around it or else we would end up too far off the path.”

  “I think we should set up camp here and figure out another way to go. The little travelers are complaining that their fingers and toes are tingly.”

  Their feelings for each other had turned to ice and without their kindling of affection or their sheepskins of humility, they spent a frigid night huddled together. The next morning they continued up the peak. A harsh wind arose, and soon the air was filled with snow. They could barely see the path. Perhaps that was just as well, because it took them across a jagged ridge with a vertical drop-off on either side. How long they walked like this, they did not know for their journey together seemed frozen in time. Peter trudged ahead to blaze a trail through the deep snow, carrying one of the little travelers on his shoulders. Celeste lagged behind with the other two. The snow turned into a blizzard, and icy flakes stung their faces. They valiantly pushed on, afraid that they would freeze if they stopped. Indeed, if Peter and Celeste had not been carrying the little travelers, who shared their own warmth, they might not have made it.

  Finally the wind died and the snow lightened. In the faint winter sunlight they could see the path leading straight up to Loveless Peak. “Maybe you can climb it yourself,” Celeste said, “but I’m going back down with the little travelers.”

  “You won’t be able to find the way.”

  “If we go on, we’ll die of hypothermia.”

  “All right,” Peter said. He began to lead them down, retracing their steps as best he could. The little travelers didn’t mind the journey. They threw snowballs at each other and jumped off the drifts, remembering the fun they used to have in the Orchard of Earthly Delights. Then one rolled into a snow-filled gully and found, buried in the snow, a sign for a warming hut of revelation. Peter and Celeste saw the sign, but they didn’t stop to look for the hut. As cold as they both were, neither wanted to talk to a guide.

  The sun set and the moon rose over the snowy slope. They continued descending through the night. Occasionally Peter paused to let Celeste catch up with him, but as soon as she drew near, he would start walking again.

  Finally Celeste could no longer bear it. “I have to stop and rest.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Won’t you wait for me?”

  “I already have.” He began walking again.

  “You are the most insensitive, mean, heartless person I have ever known!” Celeste yelled.

  Peter turned around and yelled back. “It takes one to know one!”

  Their echoes reverberated around the peak, loosening the snow. They heard an ominous rumble and in another instant, an avalanche was rushing down the slope. Celeste managed to grab two of the little travelers, and Peter reached for the third.

  “Swim,” he told Celeste. “We have to swim through the snow.”

  They flew through the cold darkness, terrified they would not survive. But when the night was again finally quiet, they found they all had landed in a clump at the bottom—except for one little traveler who was stuck upside-down in the snow and had to be dug out.

  In the light of the growing dawn, they could see they were in a sorry state: their packs bent and torn, bruises everywhere. They brushed the snow off the little travelers. Celeste scowled at Peter, thinking how he had almost killed them all. Peter glared at Celeste, thinking he would have never yelled if she hadn’t yelled first.

  “We should stop and warm ourselves,” Celeste said.

  “With wh
at? All our extra clothes are cold and damp from the snow.”

  Tears came to Celeste’s eyes, and she closed off a little more of her heart to protect it from the hurt she felt.

  They resumed their journey. There was no sun that day, and the clouds sank lower and lower until they were walking in a fog. They could barely see their cords of commitment, but they could feel them chafing their wrists in the cold. Then the path turned to a toe-numbing slush, and Peter and Celeste had to carry the little travelers to keep their feet dry. They tramped on in silence, just as they had when they crossed the Plains of Distance, and the soggy, muddy snow stayed with them for a long time.

  Along Desolate Canyon to Revenge Chasm

  DOWN INTO DESOLATE CANYON

  In my dream I saw how far Peter and Celeste had wandered from the path to the Highlands—and how much harder they had made their journey to the King’s City. Yet as dark as their way appeared, there was still much hope, for the King would never stop caring for them. Indeed, He was waiting eagerly for them to turn to Him, so He could lift their burdens. Though they had given up their kingly gifts, spurned the help of His guides, and no longer read His guidebook, yet He would restore them, if only they would take His grace. His deepest desire was to give them everything they needed to continue their journey. But Peter and Celeste became so preoccupied with taking care of the little travelers that they no longer stopped to consider all the King had done for them. They forgot how He had provided food for them and how the Servant had forged the knife of grace. But the King still cared for them and helped them soldier on through the slush.

  After a time they found themselves heading across a plateau of scrub desert, much like the Plains of Distance except the plateau was even hotter and drier. At first they were glad for the change from the numbing cold of Loveless Peak. But soon they regretted the new path, for there was no shade or any oasis where they could get water. So when they came to a trail that had been cut through the plateau by an ancient river, they followed it, hoping to find a stream.

  Deeper and deeper they descended until they reached the bottom of Desolate Canyon. Tall rock walls blocked the sunlight, making the canyon as gloomy as a dungeon. They found no sign of water but lacked the strength to climb out of the canyon, so they started down the sandy channel. Soon the path was covered with little stones, but neither thought about how they used to kick pebbles together. Then they came to a stagnant stream dribbling out of the canyon wall. The trickle looked harmless, but Peter and Celeste didn’t realize they were at the headwaters of the River of Unfaithfulness, fed by runoff from the melted snow of Loveless Peak. They didn’t know that as the river went on, it broke off into many branches—making it easy for couples to become separated from each other—before it ended in the Valley of Cut Cords.

  “I suppose if we follow the stream, it will take us out of here,” Peter said.

  “Are you so sure?” Celeste had come to detest how Peter always was convinced about his own ideas.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” He pulled back his shoulders. If there was anything he hated, it was the way Celeste mocked his sense of direction.

  At first the strip of water was narrow enough to step across if they wanted to. With Celeste on one side of the stream and Peter on the other, they started tracking the stream. The water quickly turned foul as it became wider and twisted through the canyon, filling the air with a rotten smell. Without the distractions of the Orchard of Earthly Delights or the comfort of their postcards, Peter and Celeste each felt a dull ache of loneliness that seemed deeper than what they had felt before they had become partners, for then they had depended on the King for comfort. Now they walked as if they were a hundred miles apart. Their steps echoed through the empty hollow canyon, punctuated only by the stones the little travelers threw at bushes clinging to the walls until Peter told them to stop, afraid they might start a rock slide.

  When it was time for lunch, they sat on some boulders, Peter on his side of the stream and Celeste on hers. While they ate, they saw a woman walking toward them, right in the middle of the scummy water. She wasn’t wearing cords of commitment, but they could hear her talking to herself, saying, “Where is he? Where is he? Oh my love, come back, come back.” When she saw Peter and Celeste, she became distraught and rushed toward them. “Have you seen him? Have you seen my husband?”

  “We’ve only come to the canyon this morning,” Celeste said. “You are the first traveler we’ve seen. But tell us what he looks like, in case we find travelers ahead.”

  The woman sat down in the water and started to tell them her story. “What does he look like? When I first met him I thought he looked like a knight. He had an easy stride and big strong hands, and he was always so considerate—he’d lay down his coat so I wouldn’t have to step in mud puddles. And he had such grand plans for the journey to the King’s City. He was going to travel only on the high roads so he would always have a good view. When we agreed to become partners and travel together, it was the happiest day of my life. Then we had our weaving day and that became the happiest day of my life—until we drank from the chalice under the moon of honey. That was when I began to believe that each new day would be better than the one before, walking with my knight in shining armor.

  “But I had fooled myself, for he never had any armor, shining or not—he was just an ordinary man. Soon I discovered he had a fear of heights, so we never did take the high roads he had always talked about. How disappointed I was to plod along in the valleys beside him. The only thing he talked about was himself. Day and night it was always, ‘me, me, me.’ I thought it would get easier when little travelers joined us, but that only made things worse. He didn’t like the way I disciplined them and said I was too soft. And for all of his complaining, he never helped me with them. He just sat around the camp eating and eating until he grew pudgy. Then he turned bald and started to snore every night so I could barely sleep.

  “It felt so hopeless because we didn’t believe in cutting our cords. The only thing that kept us together was that he loved the little travelers as much as I did. Can you imagine how miserable I felt, trapped on the journey with such a common, uninspiring partner?

  “I never meant to leave him—I swear I didn’t—but how could I help it? One day a knight came by. At least he looked like a real knight, handsome and dashing and wearing shiny armor. He said he was lonely just like I was, and we started going on walks together in the meadows. Then he took me up to a high trail, and it was thrilling to finally see a view. I suppose I knew it was wrong, but I felt so alive when I was with the knight. After all those years walking with my tiresome husband, I thought the King would understand.

  “Then one day the knight took out his chalice and offered me a drink. But I didn’t drink just for the sweetness. No, it wasn’t just for that. I loved the way he looked into my eyes as we drank, not turning away like my husband did. I felt so happy then, to finally experience what I had been missing. After that, the knight and I went walking as often as we could. It wasn’t easy; we had to meet in secret. But there are so many little side canyons here that it’s not as difficult as it would be someplace else. After feeling dead for so long, I finally felt alive. When I wasn’t with the knight, I felt such intense anticipation at the thought of seeing him again. And then we would meet and I would see his face light up—” The woman hugged herself, as if trying to give herself comfort.

  “Then one day, my husband discovered me slipping off for a rendezvous with the knight. He said I had broken my promise to him and betrayed the King—and if that was what I wanted, that was what I would get. I didn’t feel too sad when he made me leave. In fact, I felt relieved because now the knight and I could go off together as we had always talked of doing. And for a while, walking with the knight was so perfect, it was like being under the moon of honey all the time. But the excitement didn’t last. I began to notice he had his own faults, ones I hadn’t seen at the beginning when the chalice had been flashing in front of me. That’s when I re
alized that all I had done was exchange one set of imperfections for another.

  “We started to argue and soon he began to stay away for a week, and then for two weeks at a time. Since we didn’t have cords of commitment, what could I say? One morning I woke up and discovered he had left for good. He didn’t even leave a note. I looked for him for a while, but I couldn’t find him. I finally gave up and started out on my own again, but I found the way was much harder by myself. I had always thought nothing could be harder than living with my husband, but I was wrong. I missed him. We had traveled so far together and had raised the little travelers together. I realized that walking with him wasn’t as bad as I had thought. He had always been faithful to me. Maybe he wasn’t the most handsome partner, but he had never abandoned me like the fake knight had.” She started to weep. “I want to walk with him again, but I don’t know where he and the little travelers have gone. I’ve searched and searched, but I can’t find them anywhere. Please, please, if you see my husband, tell him I love him and I want to come back.”

  Celeste promised they would. But Peter thought it was unforgivable that the woman had broken her vows, and her husband should refuse to take her back. That was what he would do if Celeste ever left him.