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10. THE CONFESSION
Freegirl knew the inquisition was inevitable.
She thought carefully before answering, for she did not want to break her protective silence.
Suddenly she blurted, “I’m going to the Lore Halls because some of the people in my family have not been healing.”
There. She had said it. “It would be wise if... you tell no one,” the girl spoke coolly.
Tyber was caught unexpectedly, and into a gasp he went. Not healing?
Not possible.
Momentarily, he pulled back from his unusual companion, and looked into the flames of their campfire, searching for sense.
Not healing?
“What do you mean ‘not healing’?” Tyber asked, hoping he sounded calm. But news like this—absolutely impossible news like this—was unnerving.
Freegirl did not know how to answer him without telling him of her Vision, her name, the prophecy—and how she’d taken five days to heal a wound. She was beginning to feel heated and annoyed.
“I can’t tell you what is happening, Tyber, just there are things I do not understand, and I'm hoping the Images of the Lore Halls can help me.” She paused to compose her emotions, and then added, “Everything is fine with my family now, so there is no need to worry.”
The concept of worry practically did not exist, unless being stalked by a Predator. And then one did not worry; one merely focused.
Tyber hesitated before speaking, feeling very confused. Then suddenly, after a strong inhalation he said, “Last month, while I was riding along the river, I saw the strangest sight. About twenty fish lie rotting at the water’s edge. I could not figure how they'd died. I pinched my nose shut—the stench was atrocious—and looked closer. I thought maybe a fisherone had lost a net of catch, but I could see no hook marks or tears in the skin. They were bloated fish, slimy, black and dead.”
The girl rested on her side, and stupidly stared at him. Not wanting to believe, she looked away.
But then she could bare it no more. Tears began to swell in her face, and drip down her cheeks. “Oh Blood,” she cried to herself. “Oh Blood, here it comes.”
Tyber wanted to understand and talk, but Freegirl was tired and upset. She wanted to go to sleep and dream. And Dream. And Dream. So the exasperated girl told him not now, and in tears fell asleep.
A puzzled Tyber let it go, for he was to awaken before dawn and tend to the campfire. He fell asleep without another word.
When the sun peeked over the horizon to blaze upon Shadow Meadow and the creatures living there, Freegirl’s eyes popped open to the darkened dawn. How soothing the dark world was. If life could always be easy and free of challenges, what paradise it would be.
Then she probed her thoughts more deeply.
Her people and her home had never been anything but paradise. Even when the challenges were life-threatening, there was always the awareness of a greater force in the universe protecting. The family was forever supportive and understanding. The resources of Photopia were infinite.
So, why did Freegirl always feel like an alien, lost and empty?
Then she remembered…
She was not the only one who had troubles in healing. At the Full Moon Gather, many of her friends and family had experienced healing difficulties. Her father had been subdued for awhile, and even Tyber had seen unnatural, and inexplicable death.
As she lay pondering, feeling quite alone, a voice, the voice spoke softly in the background. “You are not alone, Heart. We are always here. Your destiny is part of The Plan. Trust.” At that moment, she felt something very warm touching her wrist. It was the golden chain.
As drops of water swelled in the eyes of the awakening girl, she was bolted back to the world by a whinnying Black Raisin. The horse was anxious.
Her companion awakened with a slight startle, as the teen-agers shot a sleepy glance at one another.
“What a way to awaken,” mumbled Tyber. “Is it morning already?”
Freegirl wiped back the hint of tears and said, unaffected, “I guess she’s anxious to get moving,” referring to the horse, who would not stop neighing.
“OW! Stop that!” grumbled Tyber, who was up in moments rolling his sleeping bag into a bundle. “You’re hurting my ears!”
Freegirl followed the young man’s move and both of them silently stoked the fire to cook breakfast. Normally, the two would have honored the sunrise by bowing to it and stretching, but the persistent horse hurried them.
At that moment, a shadow began to cross the soft light of the dawning sky. The two teens looked upward and saw more than a million fliers—many birds flapping their wings in unison. They covered the heavens to fly over the green valley. The children instinctively moved under a tree. As thrilling as Shadow Meadow was—with its morning shade of determined wings filling the air—the occasional plop of bird droppings was to be avoided.
When the sky cleared, and the moving machine of feathers disappeared into the forest, the campers resumed their routines.
Although Freegirl was not as experienced at camping and traveling as Tyber was, she was aware of self-sufficiency and the outdoors. This was a knowledge all Children of the Glimpse were taught by their parents. Camping directly off the land was as important as singing and dancing— hunting and planting. Whatever Tyber knew, Freegirl also knew.
As wild oats were cooking, and Freegirl was swimming downstream, Tyber took his horse and Black Raisin upstream for a drink of fresh water. He untied them, and led an anxious pair from camp.
Ordinarily, Tyber would not have had his horse tied, for Wilson and the boy were very close—the horse stayed with the boy out of love. But because the less familiar horse, Black Raisin, did not know her riders, she was apt to leave them and return home. Desertion the travelers did not need, so the horses had been tied to a tree during the night.
Freegirl returned from the water to finish cooking the cereal and witnessed a sight. She was thankful for what she saw, as it immediately pulled her out of her melancholy mood.
“Whoa! Whoa! You’re out of control!” Tyber was softly hollering at the horses to calm down, as the three of them zoomed toward the apple grove that held their belongings. Wilson and Black Raisin were so full of energy they practically carried the young man, as he held them to a simmer. “Can you believe these two?” he asked Freegirl. “They know they’re on an adventure and can’t wait to get going!”
Freegirl started to laugh, as she took the lead rope of Black Raisin. Before grasping her horse’s line, the restless black mare pushed Tyber into Wilson, almost knocking the boy off his feet.
“You comediennes are having quite the romp, I see,” joked Freegirl, as she approached the jumble.
Tyber’s response was quick, but not rude. “We are not comediennes, and this is not a show.” He became so suddenly serious Freegirl had to turn her head. He would not see her contorted face, as she held back a burst of laughter.
“Maybe you should try discipline,” said the girl, as she held tightly the halter of her mount, and her laughter.
“Black Raisin misses her home,” said Tyber. “She’s never been borrowed before now. If your legs are rested enough, we can give them a gallop.”
“I stretched well last night, after my run. My legs can handle a fast gallop, if it makes the horses happy.”
Freegirl was surprised at how sore her muscles had become. She had no intention of telling her companion her body was still sore, because she did not want to appear weak. Weakness was nonexistent in these humans.
Most Children of the Glimpse could adjust immediately to any type of muscular strain. They were taught, at a very young age, to stretch daily and relax. If they suffered pain when their muscles were being introduced to something new, it meant they were not relaxed, and were probably unconsciously fighting the unfamiliar position.
It was a sign something weighed heavily upon her spirit. When she was calm enough to have no thoughts, but to float peacefully upon the hammock of her imagination, she noticed a painful burden lift--one that was sitting tightly across her shoulders.
But since the Vision had come to her, and since she was no longer with her family and close friends, the burden of her position had grown. Her sore muscles, she believed, were the consequence of a spirit in distress.
Tyber was thinking about his riding partner, Freegirl. She said her family had experienced healing difficulty. She had muscles hurting beyond normal, as he noticed her slow, careful walk, and stiff mounting. He was also aware she did not sleep well. She had tossed and moaned during the night.
But weirder still, the young woman had appeared out of nowhere—materialized—to travel to the north pole, to an inhospitable place--a six thousand mile journey with no provisions, or plans— no maps, no company, and never said goodbye to her family?
Strange.
And, seemingly, getting stranger...
The teens strode an easy pace upon the trail that meandered next to the water’s edge. The trail would twist up to the higher banks, out of the shade and into the sunlight—only to casually return back to the Whisper Waters.
The riders walked, trotted and cantered. It was a secure path to ride—firm and free of sharp rocks, tangling vines, and potholes. The only obstacles were the random rabbits and ground squirrels, darting across the way.
Excellent timing was to be gained, if only Freegirl was not so sore, and stiff from the ride.
“Tyber,” she spoke, trotting her horse to ride along side of him. “I have to walk.”
“Are you serious?” Tyber’s tone was concerned, as he watched Freegirl slide stiffly off her mount. He had never heard of anyone getting sore from merely riding a horse.
“I wish I was kidding,” she answered, as a slight grimace tightened her cheeks. “I don’t know what is happening with my legs... and back... but they hurt.”
If a Child of the Glimpse was unfamiliar with a certain type of muscle training, they could get sore limbs and back. But healing was so natural, the soreness should be gone within moments of the new muscle position.
They continued walking—with Tyber upon Wilson, and Freegirl leading Black Raisin. The sun was high noon and baking in a gentle way. “Maybe the Fireye will help you heal your muscles,” said a caring Tyber.
“Maybe,” said Freegirl. Unsure of her new situation and her destiny, she kept quiet and let her head fall forward, chin almost grazing her chest. The whole world was caving upon her. She had never known true peace, as other Children of the Glimpse had. Always the foreboding presence of the nightmare invaded her happiness.
And now this. An inability to heal last month, and the present inability to ride a horse freely.
“Freegirl,” said Tyber gently. “A heavy struggle lives inside of you. I can smell it,” he foretold. “I have never known anyone melancholy, as you seem. Life is nothing but wonder, and learning how to focus. No matter what the pain, there's always the power of the knowledge gained.”
Tyber waited patiently, as Freegirl clenched back her tears. “So what’s going on with you!” he suddenly burst.
She glanced up at him bit by bit, with gloomy, meek eyes, and watched him upon his huge mount. Taking a deep breath, and allowing the tears to flow gently over her cheeks, she said simply, “The end of the world is coming.” Then she looked back toward the ground.
Tyber’s mouth dropped open. He looked blankly, as Freegirl resumed her downward stare. The young man did not hear her correctly—yet he heard her correctly, as if a wild boar had squealed, and charged into him. “Oh, save me,” he thought—but did not utter.
He looked into the sky, the beautiful, holy sky, and wondered what he was going to do with his strange companion. He certainly could not leave her, nor would he think of it until she was safe with his friends at the Lake. Being in her presence was anything but peaceful. He felt completely out of control escorting an enigmatic stranger to gentle people he’d known his entire life. He could not introduce someone of such a troubled state to those he knew.
“Freegirl.” He broke into her intensely preoccupied gaze.
She lifted her chin, wiped her eyes and looked up at him again. A timid smile rolled across her lips as she heard the Voice say, Gently, child, do not scare the others.
Tyber watched her with great concern.
Then Freegirl asked him, attempting humor, “How would you like to be me for one day?”
Not at all amused, Tyber answered, “I would not like to be you for one instant. Your spirit is in so much pain your body is mimicking it. That is why your muscles hurt. Our bodies are only as free as our spirits.” He was kind but direct.
And Freegirl had had enough. Suddenly, breaking into uncontrollable cries, she mumbled, “I knowww… Don’t you think I know?” Her voice quivered, her heart contracted, and her face became a gushing flood.
Tyber was absolutely crushed in seeing so much misery in another human being. He urged his horse over to hers and grabbing the bridle on Black Raisin’s head, forced the animals to stop. A much weakened Freegirl also halted, and leaned her head against the mare's neck.
In moments, Tyber was off his horse and standing in front of the girl, who did not appear as free as her name.
“Holy skies,” he said. “You are really suffering. Come,” he encouraged her, as he put his arms around her. “You’re not alone. I will help you as far as I can."
Tyber's compassion was compelling. "Everything will be as it should be. Don’t be afraid of what you cannot see—there is harmony all around thee.” He wasn’t sure from where these words came, but he enjoyed the poet in him.
The girl continued to sob, with her slumped shoulders trembling. The horses could tell something was disconcerting to the people. They stood near and remained very still, watching.
Then Tyber took control of the situation. After securing the animals to a tree, he led Freegirl off the trail toward a great maple tree.
The tree was full of birds—they filled the valley with singing and whistling. The children folded onto the cushioned green, under the maple canopy.
The grass was as thick as a pillow and relaxing under the shade of the tree. The sad one put her chin in her hands and stared ahead, trying not to cry.
Tyber clenched her wrist, and as if he was going to pull her spirit out of her body, he asked. “What do you mean ‘the end of the world’?”
Freegirl was quieting, exhausted from crying. She thought very carefully. This person, the young man who had discovered her in a most bizarre way, had been one of the most understanding and supportive people she'd ever met. Her parents were always gentle and kind, but they never understood her.
And without understanding, support is hindered. He had gone out of his way to carry her to Rainbow’s, then went even further by escorting her to Save the Lake, where he had friends. Other people would have tried to convince her to get home.
Gently, she heard the Voice say. She would tell him what she could, without horrifying him. At that moment, she saw the quakes and the tidal waves rise in front of her. Eeeeee…must be very careful.
With a softly broken voice, rough and monotone, she began. “It seems a big change is coming—a very big change.” She sighed heavily. “It seems some of the Children are finding interference with ordinary healing. Many of the people’s Dreams are of a sickened nature.” She knew Tyber was staring at her, so she took another deep breath. “That is…there have been signs of Disease.”
Tyber’s eyes bulged from their sockets. “Disease!” he interjected loudly. He was so stunned by his companion’s last statement he didn’t even try to be polite. “I can’t believe humans could ever have disease! Who did you hear this from?”
Freegirl did not want to finish the conversation. She was tired, tired of everything, and tired of her thoughts. She leaned her head to one of her shoulders, and reluctantly, continued to oblige her inquisitor.
“Members of my family have experienced some difficulty in healing.” She was aware of the strain to sound convincing.
Tyber looked at her, with a disbelieving frown. The girl ignored his look; after all, he’s the one who wanted to know.
“Then an incredible thing happened,” she continued. “Just before you saw me sitting in the wildflowers, I met a spirit.”
She continued. “The spirit guided me to a place in the middle of Mount Gold. I’ve heard any one whose been there has never returned. It has peculiar gravity. It let me drop, but it was so slow I felt like I was floating. They say a person could be dissipated by the unusual pressure, and vanished.”
Although phenomenon of wild nature exists everywhere upon Photopia, Tyber was increasingly interested. “I know little of this mountain or this place. Are you the first person to have survived it?”
“I don’t know, but the inside of the bottom is loaded with diamonds. The walls and floors are covered with them.” Then she remembered her golden chain of hearts. “I found this in a pile of diamonds,” she said, as she held up her wrist. The bracelet danced in the daylight. “The spirit told me this chain was left for me by an Angel.”
“Left for you, specifically?” he asked. He was not jealous or envious, just puzzled.
“Evidently. The spirit knew I would be coming centuries ago, and to protect me, she put her power into this chain.”
“Protect you from what?” Tyber was becoming more confused by the moment. The only thing from which Children of the Glimpse needed protection was hungry Predators and foul weather.
“I don’t know,” answered Freegirl, pondering. “I only know the spirit, or spirits, gave me information about the future. They showed me the humans are focused too intently inward. They are spending too much time in Contemplation, Dreaming too much, and leaving their bodies for too long.”
“Oh no…I can’t believe this.” Tyber shook his head in disbelief and confusion. “We're supposed to be Contemplating, and exploring the Imagination, Freegirl. This is the miracle of being human. We have the ability to evolve in any direction, to expand the boundaries of our minds. We can be anything we want! Do anything we want! Just look at the Images! This is the special gift human beings have been given. The Material World is so limited and structured if we did not reach into ourselves and Dream, we would become congested with the baser things in life. We would find ourselves very bored with simply eating, sleeping, talking and reproducing. We might become so lethargic in our baseness even reproducing would get boring. I mean, Holy Skies, Freegirl! Doesn’t everyone want to fly? Doesn’t everyone want to live in Dreamland? In paradise? Aren’t we all looking for the ultimate high?”
Freegirl patiently listened, for he had a mouthful. Her traveling companion was getting very emotional about their conversation. She could only agree with everything he said. When he finally quieted, she replied, “That's exactly what I told the spirit, when she said we are ignoring our emotions and our bodies.”
“That’s impossible! We are the most emotional and giving creatures ever created! And all of us exercise our bodies every day!”
“I know this. But the spirit said because we spend so much time inside our Selves, in the Dreamscape, and in our spiritual studies— obsessed with our Imaginations, she said— we do not spend enough time with each other and the planet. She tells me we are the caretakers of Photopia, and we have not been paying attention to Mother Nature. Even though we are very caring and aware of our surroundings, we are constantly detached from ordinary life. She says sometimes we forget we are simple animals— just like the ones we hunt. Because we are so very intelligent, we tend to put ourselves above the basics, above nature, and above the animals. And this detachment from the Material World is going to freeze us.”
Freegirl took a long, deep inhalation through her nose, then added, "The spirit calls it The Inevitable Change."
Tyber was listening, and wondering.
She continued her explanation. “Most humans experience the Dreamscape more than they experience their bodies. They love to Contemplate alone, and forget to touch each other. They forget to be with each other. We constantly remove ourselves from ordinary sensation, as if ordinary sensation is just not deep enough—or powerful enough. Because we leave the Material World unattended, we have created a hole in the Web. The puncture is unraveling by the year, and for our continued absence, the warmth is seeping out of this hole. This emotional leak will eventually freeze the planet.”
Tyber was silent, his face unreadable. She had a way with words, and he was not sure how to respond. Then slowly he formed the words, “Oh my blood. Oh my heated blood. What do you mean freeze?”
Freegirl’s eyebrows lifted as she patiently replied, “The spirit says we're in the Age of Frigidity. Because we detach from our bodies to Dream, we have forgotten how to think, how to feel, and how to touch—and those three things keep us warm."
Freegirl added, " We cannot live, if we are not warm."
Her theory was painfully simple and starting to make sense.
Detachment from the mind, the emotions, and the body—in order to Dream—could lead to an imbalance. And unbalanced things invite disease.
He let flow a great gasp of air. Frowning at her with a humble gaze, he asked, “What is going to happen?”
“The planet is going to force us into a new awareness—a wiser consciousness, if you can imagine that—by shaking us with disasters. For Mother Nature has more power than any of us.”
Tyber contemplated her words. Indeed she was a strange character, and only one of such originality could idealize something as preposterous as this: the planet causing death among its people to change their awareness!
Why would the Children of the Glimpse, so loving, so brilliant, so wise, be required to change their awareness? Was it possible they were unbalanced?
He continued thinking. Under all circumstances, change must prevail, as Change is the only thing in life, guaranteed. Change is growth, evolution, improvement, creation, and death. Change is endless; nothing is constant. If the universe is infinite, then Change is an ongoing process--all things are forever changing.
Tyber remembered the dead fish. It was an unusual event, indeed, something of which he had never heard, and something that could not be explained. “Oh Freegirl,” he mumbled.
The two teens sat quietly under the sky. “This is why you must go to the Lore Halls, for the Images would understand the future and the Change better than anyone.”
“Yes, Tyber. This is why I must go to the Lore Halls.” The girl was calm now. Her left hand displayed a dance of golden hearts, as her fingers played softly with the grass blades. She gazed inward.
In a soft voice she continued. “But there is one unfortunate possibility.” She gave him a meek smile, one that looked vaguely frightened. “The Images are the most powerful people on Photopia. Because of their discipline and manipulation of the Dreamscape, they may be more detached from their bodies than any of us.”
She reached over and put her hand on Tyber’s knee, and looked him in his eyes. Taking a deep breath she added, “It is possible they rarely make love, and may be the coldest ones of all.”
At that same moment, a spark of intelligence united their thoughts. The two glimpsed the gravity of one definitive truth: the Lore Halls were located near the North Pole, where it was freezing.
The teens stared into the void. Sitting quietly under the maple canopy, they considered Destiny and shivered.
A screech burst into the air above the maple tree. The children shot looks toward the sky and saw a macaw flashing blue-green feathers in the sun. Black Raisin whinnied loudly in response, and Wilson snorted. Tyber and Freegirl agreed it was wise to go, for theirs was a journey with no time to waste.
Riding side by side in the silence, the horses broke into a gentle canter. The path was beginning to widen. Freegirl’s leg muscles had relaxed a bit, having released most of the pain since her talk with Tyber. She was feeling her life had finally begun, and was excited for her coming journey.
The afternoon temperature was soft and warm, as a swirling breeze of cool, ocean air weaved around them. It would not be long before the Sea You was far behind them, and the salty sea winds out of reach. The grass stretched as far as the eye could see, billowing in the breeze, long, overgrown stems bordering the edge of the trail near the river.
That evening in camp, as the sky was turning from deep blue to black, and the stars were ripening in the void, Freegirl and Tyber lie mesmerized on their backs. In their sleeping bundles they watched the sky.
One by one, the stars began to dance, leaping distances across time and space—energy balls burned out millenniums ago, but still appearing as lights to the gazers of Photopia, millions of miles away.
A light show accentuated the sky, all bright and sparkling, as the cosmic designs ripped through the atmosphere, glowing in the night with their performance. The waning moon was a charge of white electricity, still swollen with a voluptuous beam. The tired campers floated under the marvel of magic, and in gleaming streams of consciousness, fell asleep.
At least once a week, the people upon Photopia saw nightly showers of light—star shows from heaven.
Theirs was a cosmic paradise, sleeping under the moon.
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