The Return
Page 3
Decisions are sometimes forced on one. Lydia knew this the day Mr. Taylor approached her and asked what she thought Truth was. It took her so by surprise that she stammered out that it seemed to her that Truth kept changing, and it was such a personal thing that no one could really know. The truth for one person was not the truth for another.
“So do you think going to Iowa you’ll find Truth?” His eyes sparkled with glee and a wry grin spread across his face.
Lydia felt her cheeks grow hot. This man always seemed to know things before he was ever told, and always had a purpose to what he said and asked. There was no idle chatter with him.
“I don’t know,” she admitted with a soft giggle. It was beyond her to guess what was coming. “Maybe Truth and the truth are two different things?”
“Aha,” he said, bringing one hand up, then swinging it up and around, bringing her attention to the retreat grounds. “Such devoted workers we have here.” Lydia saw co-workers in the gardens picking vegetables, tomatoes they would be canning, cabbages and carrots they would process. What was he getting at? She was a devoted worker, too.
“Maybe we need someone to think about this truth business. Maybe develop a new course to offer next year. Something about truth and interpersonal relationships.” He turned to look at her, his hands resting at his sides. “Something about truth as we come to know it. What is really true?” Now he put his hand to his mouth and narrowed his eyes. “You have any ideas on that?”
Lydia strained to find an answer. Was there really a right answer? She swallowed. “I know that humans do terrible things to one another and asking why doesn’t always bring out the truth.”
He nodded slowly. “But it haunts them, propels them into asking questions? Sometimes from beyond the grave?”
“How did you know?” It was a whisper. She looked into his eyes, dark and warm, deep and mysterious.
“You’ve been preoccupied. People notice, hear a little of this, a little of that, they talk. No secrets here, Lydia.”
“Oh. Well.”
“So,” he said, smiling. “I was thinking. Since your energy is already in Iowa, perhaps we could use it to develop a course on Truth. You could keep notes, do a journal, post regular emails.”
Lydia shivered. She couldn’t figure out whether this was a reprimand, or an order. But she knew it was asking for a commitment to the Yoga Ranch. Which maybe meant they didn’t want her lost in a search that might go nowhere. Or somewhere hard to recover from. It also seemed like a lot of hard work. “I could do that,” she answered a bit weakly, feeling strange, like being sent out like a dove from the boat to find land. “The truth doesn’t always set you free, does it?” she asked. “It might just make you want to know more, and more, and more.”
“Or it might stop the quest and stall the journey. Your mother needs your understanding to move on. You need back-up, and that’s what we’re offering.”
“You make it sound...dangerous.”
“You’ll do just fine as long as you don’t forget your back-up team.”