The Adventure
Legends for the Children of Eden
Tuma Souvlak stared at his reflection in the pool. Though he had occupied this new level of consciousness for nearly twenty-seven years now, he still marvelled at the agility life had given him. Life was different here in this completely new Third Density aspect of existence—very much so—as a human. He stood and turned to walk away from the placid pool; its distant cascade scoring the air around him with the din of falling water. He looked at the forest around him and his attention was drawn to a sprawling tree of magnificent height in which hundreds of colourful birds rested on their perches between the broad green leaves. Was it the change—this transformation? Or could it be that Creation is just that marvellous to behold? Ever since he had crossed over, the old ways of the Bolin were fading from his intellect—not the memories of his former life; he was losing his old habits. He was becoming more and more human with each passing day. Tuma reckoned that this was an aspect of his new—immortal—life that was, by any evaluation, an asset to him. He walked on. Early morning walks through the sprawling park behind his villa had become a personal constitution to him. It invigorated him and energized his still powerful intellect—got him ready for whatever the day might offer. Today, he thought, he would visit Master Kin.
All of the Bolin recovered by The One Infinite Creator had been born off-world to human parents. When they had come of age, they chose to return to their home world. But they no longer called it Safut. They had decided to change its name to Eden—a reference to an ancient and mythical place in human literature; this decision was made by the entire community in the form of a knowing as the people had incarnated in unity consciousness. That is to say: they would, voluntarily, dispense with the memories of the old ways and of the old language and of the old world and its ancient order. To every Bolin who had accepted the way of Awah-Pall the Prime Creator, their memory would be cleansed in the process of transformation and they would be called, now, The People of God. Eden, then, was brought into the fold of humanity. The Elohim had finally taken away that mysterious distortion in the fabric of space that had hidden the planet and its star system for all those millennia. It became a destination for others travelling the nearby system of home worlds. The people of Eden were well-known for their hospitality and the change would be eternal.
Tuma walked out along the park’s pathway toward the village. At the intersection of the entrance gate and Summit Street, he turned left onto the sidewalk and headed for Master Kin’s new villa overlooking Extensia Bay. He liked walking on these new legs of his. They seemed designed for it! The street he walked along was quaint and narrow—sheltered from the midday sun by ancient maples whose wandering limbs spread like umbrellas laden with wide green leaves. Their soothing shadow offered a cool shelter but allowed the sun’s rays to stream through their boughs as a myriad of narrow beams splashing along the sidewalks and the pavement of the street. Each house was tidy and efficiently designed and most had copious yards surrounding them—yards of deep blue-green grass kept short and neat often bordered by flower beds. His community was alive with colour and ambience. “How fortunate we are that those on the other home worlds have donated their resources and time to terraform our Eden.” Tuma thought. “It was a nice place to live before but now it is absolutely heavenly!” Eden had been transformed as well it would seem.
Tuma stepped through the front gate of his master’s yard and walked down the walkway to the front door. He swung the door knocker twice—it sent a deep knock echoing through the cottage. From inside the house he heard: “Tuma? Is that you?” Tuma recognized the pleasant voice of Lady Gwendolyn—the new name that Marsute had chosen for her new life. “Yes, my lady.” Tuma answered through the screen.
She hurried to the door and gently pushed it open. “Well come in, my boy. Kincaid will be so glad to see you!” Kincaid was the name that Master Kin had chosen. He had thought it clever to have a new name so similar to his original one. He had been born into the family MacLellan on Gannemead and had kept his hereditary name to honour his human father and mother.
“Where is he my lady?” Tuma asked.
Lady Gwendolyn indulged Tuma’s reverence for her and her husband. “He’s on the veranda with your uncle Karl playing some new kind of game that your uncle brought with him from New Iberia.” She replied and then began to hurry off into the kitchen. “Go on out there and make yourself at home. I’ll bring you some refreshments shortly.” She reassured him.
Uncle Karl was none other than old Klephat the Privy Consul. In his previous life, he had turned a new leaf and laboured arduously to repent and stay upon the path of Awah-Pall and, in keeping with the Creator’s promise, he was justly rewarded. He had been born to Tuma’s grandfather back on New Iberia. Tuma had kept his name. He liked his name. Lord Emile had told him that, considering all the help that he had given them toward achieving their goals, The One Infinite Creator would certainly approve. And, sure enough, when Tuma was summoned before the Prime Creator to be made a sovereign integral prior to his leaving for his new life, the Prime Creator addressed him as Tuma Souvlak. It was no coincidence that he was born into the family Souvlak. Lord Tofla, as was expected, had made all the arrangements years before.
“What are you two up to?” Tuma asked humorously as he stepped on to the veranda.
“Come and see, nephew!” His uncle bid him. “It’s called chess and it’s absolutely fascinating!”
Tuma walked over to his elders. “Tuma!” Master Kin said. “It’s good to see you, my boy. Look here at this new game. You and I will have to learn it and play it together some time.”
“Certainly,” Tuma replied “but where did you find it?” He asked.
“At a trade bazaar on New Iberia!” His uncle replied. “I travelled home to that distant world just to see what it looked like after all these many millennia and attended the trade bazaar with a friend. Oh it was very entertaining. Well, I watched these two fellows engaged in a pensive competition—they were playing this game; and, I said to myself, there! That’s what I’d like to play! So I bought this set. What do you think?”
Tuma considered the set pieces and the board and saw that it might be a game of strategy. “It looks as though it might be a game of strategy. Is that a king and a queen there?” He replied pointing to the two white pieces.
Kin and Karl looked at each other and smiled.
“Oh he’s my nephew now Kin.” Karl said tauntingly.
“Yes and you have every right to be proud of him. He’s still in command of the most intelligent mind among our people!” Kin answered proudly.
“I’m supposing that these pieces are subordinate components as they are more numerous. What’s this here?” Tuma asked pointing to the rook.
“Here, what piece?” Kin asked.
“This one.” Tuma replied pointing to the rook again.
“Ah, let’s see.” Kin answered opening the rule book and guide to the appropriate page. “It’s called a rook and represents an early form of keep that was frequently the object of siege warfare in the ancient times of Earth.” Kin explained giving the book to Tuma. “Here you go boy, let’s get you oriented in the right direction. Then, after you’ve learned the game, you can explain it to your uncle and me!”
Tuma took the book from his master’s hand. “Thank you Master Kin.” Tuma replied respectfully.
Kin shook his head and smiled. “You’ll never change, thank the Creator, you’ll always be Tuma.”
“Would you want him any other way?” Karl asked.
“Of course not! Would we want the sun to skip a day?” Kin replied with a touch of sarcasm and then he began to laugh. The two men rose up to go for a walk in the park. “We’ll be off on our daily walk now, my boy.” Kin said.
Tuma sat down in his master’s chair and began to study the gaming pieces and refer to the book. Kin threw his head back in a quiet expression of laughter and slapped Karl on the back as they made their way toward the back yard. “Come on, Karl, it will probably take him a whole half hour to figure everything out.”
“Indeed.” Karl answered smiling. And the two old friends walked off.
“Did you know that this game was very popular amongst the ethnic Arabs of ancient Earth master?” He didn’t hear a reply so he looked up from the rule book. Tuma realized that he was alone and looked around. He saw his uncle and master Kin slowly walking toward the park; they were engaged in friendly conversation. He shook his head and returned to his studies. He thought to himself: “I see Uncle Karl’s point! This game is fascinating to be sure!” He continued to examine each piece and learn how it should be used. “Absolutely fascinating,” he thought again! Lady Gwendolyn arrived with his refreshments—sweet cakes and iced tea.
“Where have they gone?” She inquired.
Tuma looked up from his book and realized that Lady Gwendolyn was talking to him. “Ah, forgive me, my lady. They went to the park for their morning walk.” He said.
She smiled. “If they’re not back in two hours, Tuma, please go and look after them. You know how they can go off on those…those mini-expeditions of theirs!” She asked.
“Aye, my lady, master Kin has taken up entomology now has he not?” Tuma asked.
“Yes he certainly has!” She remarked. “Oh his study is covered with his…unusual collection!” She answered finding the most discrete words to frame her mild distaste for the idea of collecting bugs—as she was wont to call Kin’s hobby.
Tuma erupted in laughter. Lady Gwendolyn joined him. “I shall…redirect his interest into other subjects, if I am able.” He said holding up the book. She read the title.
“Oh, Tuma!” She began. “That would be infinitely more civil an interest to occupy his time. Please do the best that you can!” She replied almost begging him with her gentle laughter.
He smiled back at her and went back to his studies taking a moment to sip some tea and have a sweet cake.
Lady Gwendolyn patted him on his head. “Dear boy. I’m so glad you’re part of this family.” She said. He looked up at her but said nothing as his mouth was full of sweet cake. “Go on now and enjoy yourself, Tuma.” She said as she turned and left the room. He would master the game and then go on to become the inspiration of every one on his home world. Tuma Souvlak, the Chess Master. Lady Gwendolyn would soon introduce Tuma to her sister’s unbelievably beautiful niece, Marta and Marta would soon master Tuma Souvlak.
***
The Return of the Wanderer
Jerusalem Revisited
John ben Zebedee was reborn to a couple whose spirits had been his original parents in ancient times by the commandment of The One Infinite Creator—and his friend, the Sovereign Integral, Jeshua. The Prime Creator had proclaimed that Its friends should be given restitution in their new lives; they would be given their hearts desire. After all, they had given everything to the success of Its careful planning, including their lives, to work the reclamation of all of Creation. So it came as no surprise to anyone when, in the twenty-fifth year of his new life, John elected to return to Earth, now “The Living Library” and migrate to the eastern shores of a place called Israel. There he established a claim to a small piece of land on the outskirts of Netanya overlooking the Mediterranean Ocean. He moved his family there to live with him and re-establish his roots once again—now that he knew where his roots were and who he was. Earth had become yet another paradise so meticulous was the work of those Fourth Density people who had made the trip with The Great Mother. Those who now inhabited the place often witnessed the miraculous presence of their Master Crafter in the personage of Jeshua. Jeshua would stop to visit all of his old friends from time-to-time.
Keeping Its promise eternal, the Prime Creator became a companion to all—an omniscient, omnipresent, all-powerful presence that took a personal interest in the life of each and every one of Its countless creatures. Jeshua often expressed this growing contentment at the expanding Universe and all of the life within it and he often spent time with his friends from the old days, taking supper in John’s house—with all of those noble souls who had followed him through thick and thin through the progress of the ages. John was content as well. He remembered everything now; his new body did not have the shortcomings of the old one. There were no limits to his recollection. His brother James was also with him and it gave John great pleasure to see that all he had lost had been restored to him.
“John! Think fast!” His older brother said as he threw a pomegranate at him.
“Ahhh!” John cried out catching the bright crimson fruit just before it hit the centre of his chest. He struck the fruit on the edge of his father’s knee wall and broke it open. Then he began to consume the tasty kernels within. Red juice spilled over his lips and on to his chin. He bared his teeth at James and mocked a lion’s growl in a joking gesture.
“Mother! John is threatening me again!” His older brother teased.
“Stop playing with your father’s pomegranates!” Their mother said as she sat reading a letter from their aunt. She reclined comfortably in a wooden deck chair that Jeshua had fashioned himself as a present for her one feast day. It held a prominent place in the courtyard of their home.
John finished his pomegranate. James walked up to him and threw his right arm around his left shoulder to give him a hug. “What will you do today?” He asked.
“I’m taking father’s sailboat out to do a little fishing.” John replied.
“What? Fishing? Again?” His brother teased.
“I distinctly remember the time we were all imprisoned in that hole in the ground near Jerusalem after Jeshua had gone on ahead of us. Oh how you whined and wept and wished that you could go fishing then.” John prodded him.
“Those were rough times weren’t they brother?” James replied leaning comfortably against the courtyard wall.
John sat down on the knee wall and looked out over the placid ocean that stretched before their home as far as the eyes could see. He took in a deep breath and then exhaled it. “Yes. Yes they were. You know, I remember some of what went on afterwards—I mean long afterwards…after the Tribulation…and then, after the Apocalypse…and then finally, the Great Migration. But it’s all somewhat of a blur after that. Emile told me that the problems with my memory were related to an earlier design that had limits to how much information it could process. The new design taps into the soul’s intellect through the pineal gland and that intellect is, of course, connected directly to The Source. There’s unlimited storage there—huh?” He added tapping the top of his head to indicate his functioning pineal gland.
“Oh for certain but there are some moments that I’d just as soon forget. You know what I mean?” James rolled his eyes.
John understood. He began to drift into a reverie. James understood that his brother needed some quiet time and left him to himself saying: “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
John, still focused on the sea, nodded his head affirmatively and waved goodbye without turning back. James smiled and walked away. He had lived on the New Earth for over a century now. His family was all settled in and well cared for. Earth was an abundant paradise of a place. It was under the “Governorship” of the Cassiopeians. You could work if you wanted to but no one had to. In his part of the world, James enjoyed the customs and ancient traditions of his people. There were other places on the planet where other people found a personal peace in their own way. But everyone who walked the New Earth walked in harmony with The One Infinite Creator. As promised, it was Heaven on Earth—the Prime Creator always kept Its promises…time meant nothing to Its mindset.
John sat there for the longest time—until his father found him day dreaming. “John,” his father said to him, “come and eat now son, mother has supper ready. Don’t make her wait.”
Always the obedient son, he broke from his reverie and, smiling at his father, rose up to join him in the courtyard where his mother had set out a delicious but light repast for the evening meal. Father gave thanks and they all reclined to eat and talk of the day’s events. Mother told them news from the Galilee. Father thought that he and mother might go to Jerusalem to visit relatives. Would John be all right alone, they inquired. John reminded them of his actual age and they all broke out into a fit of good-natured laughter. John picked up his goblet and drank from it. His father’s home made wine. How absolutely precious the flavour was upon his tongue! He looked at his parents from across the dining table and thought how wonderful everything was now and he wished that it would never end. And then, he realized that, of course, it would never end.
***
The Appeal Made Manifest
The Promise Fulfilled
It had been fifteen thousand years since the transformation of man and for a very short time, the Earth became cooler and the ice crept back down from the northern climes. Mother was bathing herself in time! It pushed the human beings south through the grasslands and forests of the northern continent that had once been known as The Americas. The inhabitants of Earth remained gratified. No deserts compromised the abundance. The winters were longer but not bitter. The tropics cooled to a degree but not so-much-so as to change the pattern of life there. The changes came and went in such a fashion to permit the people and the other living things to cope. Wisely, the elders had instructed all to build where they knew the ice would not come so that the dwelling places of the people remained undisturbed.
The human beings revelled in their freedom and self-sufficient independence. There was no one left upon the Earth to challenge their autonomy. Gradually, the original five hundred nations returned, all of them, complete with their ethnic features, their customs and traditions, their culture and their art, after all, this was a Living Library and the Cassiopeians delighted in all the rich variety! This time though, there would be no conflict among the peoples. All of them lived in harmony for they knew the Earth belonged to all the people. The great buffalo herds—long a symbol of the blessing of “Man Above”—returned to the plains of the northern continent in fantastic numbers! Deer were plentiful. The rivers, lakes, and oceans teemed with all kinds of life. The land gave in to huge tracts of forest. Trees grew so large that thirty braves could not complete a circle around their massive trunks if they stretched out their arms and held each other’s hands! All manner of creatures inhabited the land as well; all kinds of fowl, rabbits, foxes, wolves, the bear, the puma, beaver, otter, and elk just to name a few. And the human beings slowly adopted their ancient ways once again. The wisdom and the knowledge of Nature returned to them. Some chose the life of nomads following the great herds in their yearly migrations. Others became farmers planting bountiful gardens and orchards. Still others became craftspeople of every denomination. There were those who returned to the dense tropical forests and others still that became a sea-faring people once again. It was a time of great renewal.
Everywhere, throughout the land of the human beings, one could see the happy smiling faces of bright-eyed children; they played relentlessly. This, the elders said, was a sign that Man Above—the name that they had given the Prime Creator—was close by. And the animals of lore returned—the wise talking ones who gave advice and kept watch over all. They empowered the people once again so that living life each day became an adventure to treasure for all of eternity. At night the people built huge camp fires and sang the holy songs from the ancient times and danced in celebration of the promise fulfilled. Tears were only shed in joy and hearty laughter now. No disparaging words were ever spoken. The Shamans and medicine women performed only blessings for no one got sick anymore. As time inevitably progressed, the Creator allowed the human beings to forget their past and know only the complete happiness of their new life. The sorrows would be purged from them! The people of Earth respected this decision and kept their peace as wise men keep a secret. Someday the human beings might want to remember and tell stories before the camp fire as lessons to be learned. But, for now, they were left content.
In the lands of the Lakota, above the sprawling plains now given over to the great herds of buffalo, there is a place of considerable significance the people call Mato Paha in the native tongue. It is a holy place where the people commune with Man Above; great power is given to those who make the journey. In recent years, as the ice was in retreat, the elders had decided to encourage an expedition to the place in early summer. And so, those who wished to join the pilgrimage began their travelling late in the month of the moon of green leaves—‘can wape to wi—which is to say in the Common Tongue, the month of May.
For this purpose, the people did not employ any of the technology given to them but walked or rode their horses in family groups. Sometimes they would stop to take a day or two of rest along the way. Children would play in the grass or forest—their parents would set up comfortable camps known to the human beings as their home away from home. Through tribal ritual, that was their ancient tradition, the men were allowed to fish and take game to feed their families offering respect and acknowledgment to the animal sacrificed. The women kept the hearth, searched for the eggs of flightless fowl, wild strains of plants, grains, tubers, and fruit to supplement their family’s diet and supervised the family’s growth and development in much the same fashion as they had always done—now that the people were free from the evil of subjugation. Everyone did their part to strengthen the community as had been done in the ancient times before their power as human beings had been taken from them.
In the lands of the human beings, there were no other settlers. There were no whites, no blacks—no people of yellow complexion. This was not because the human beings discouraged such a thing for they did not. As in the Lakota tradition, one could not own the land upon which the people walked; it was there for everyone to enjoy and use wisely. No, the other peoples of the new Earth knew of the sad History that was the red man’s and how they had suffered indignity at the hands of everyone they had met. Then too, the population of the planet was naturally small now and there was enough room for everyone. For these reasons, the other peoples of the Earth kept the customs of the human beings as well and had decided, collectively, not to take up any claim to those lands upon which the human beings had chosen to make their way through life. After all, the human beings were their brothers and sisters now. To show their love meant that they should show them respect as well. Friends and relations would visit bringing gifts and sharing and trading goods from distant lands. Many of the human beings would go on long walkabouts taking in the sights and learning the customs and cultures of their brothers and sisters in faraway places. But, in the New Kingdom, the land upon which the human beings walked was at the centre of the Earth and everyone knew that it was sacred.
Sung manitu tanka sa lay sleeping in the meadow not far from the camp. The people were not disturbed to find the great beast had chosen their company. He was a wisdom-giver; a wise talking animal charged by Man Above to bring the art of reasoning to the little ones. He had great patience. In ten thousand years, no one of the Lakota Nation had ever witnessed him losing his temper—even when children would frustrate their own parents with their unbridled carelessness, Sung manitu tanka sa—Red Wolf—would seek them out and teach them the ways of their ancestors; he could motivate them to adopt the ethical and moral behaviour of their people through the power of his intellect. The elders claimed that he was oft the more effective teacher because of his great size and colourful coat; he also had a pleasant disposition and a friendly face—dominated by honest eyes. This unusual incarnation captured their attention, the elders would insist, and it empowered their imagination; after all, children will be children. Everybody knows that!
Screams Twenty Times had nestled into his fur—curled up into almost a little ball of a child and slept with him beneath the warm yellow sun of early summer. Her long black hair covered her face and the pretty feather that her mother had tied to a braid danced merrily in the air as a gentle breeze passed along the ground. She had picked some prairie flowers for her mother but then she had come upon Red Wolf as she skipped along the path back toward the village encampment. The huge animal lay there sleeping soundly and she thought a nice nap might do her some good. So she walked up to him and ruffled his long soft fur to make a place for herself and, having done so, lay down with him and fell off into a deep sleep. Red Wolf woke momentarily and raised his great head to see who had disturbed him and, seeing it was Screams Twenty Times, he smiled his wolf’s smile and put his head back down to doze off again. Her mother had been trying to get her to take that nap for most of the afternoon“You can rest for a while, Bright Eyes.” Quiet Man told his wife. “See there?” He said pointing to the place where the huge wolf lay with their daughter sleeping safely in his fur. “Thank Man Above for Red Wolf’s assistance.”
Bright Eyes smiled. “It is amazing how he reason’s with their growing minds. Is it not? Where they would ask us, ten times, the same question, he manages to get them to understand a thing on the very first try.”
Bright Eyes chuckled to herself. She was grinding corn meal with the new-fangled hand mill that Quiet Man had traded from the hardware store in the settlement. It made the corn meal come out so powdery-smooth! And with such meal she could make those delicious cakes he so much enjoyed.
“What is it?” Quiet Man asked.
“Oh, I was just thinking of that humorous name you’ve given her…Screams Twenty Times…Ha! It’s funny.” She replied though mild laughter.
“Well, she was given to such tantrums as a baby. I started to listen to her once and counted twenty times that she screamed as you tried to feed her! After that, and until she began the transformation, I would notice that, whenever she would throw a fit, she’d scream twenty times! Interesting observation, isn’t it?” He explained.
“Maybe after twenty times her tiny body became exhausted and just had to stop.” His wife reasoned.
“I am so glad that the Crafters have designed such limitations into us.” Quiet Man smiled and he began to laugh his gentle big-guy laugh. “Children! Well, she can pick her own name when she reaches nine years and the transformation becomes complete.” He said. “I’m going for a walk up onto that mountain over there. I want to be alone for a while—to think.”
“Is something troubling you, my husband?” Bright Eyes asked with some concern.
“Oh, no I just have had enough of all the noise in the village today. I want some peace and quiet for just a little while. Does that sound selfish?” He inquired.
“No it does not, my good husband. You are the perfect companion. Go on now. Go for your walk and find yourself some quiet time. You deserve it. Go! Go! When you return, your supper will be ready.” She encouraged him with a placid smile on her face.
Quiet Man approached her and swept her into his powerful embrace. “I am in love with you!” He said and he kissed her soundly. “I am glad we are together again!” He added. And he set her down gently.
She slapped him affectionately on his muscle-bound chest. “Ow!” She cried. “You are so solid—like the rock of the mountains! So…so solid and…handsome too!” She said coyly as she winked at him. Then, smiling like a she-fox, she returned to her duties.
He shook his head slightly. “Humph! You are some kind of nice-lookin’ woman!” He said and then he turned to walk away toward the forest beside the campgrounds and up the rolling slope of the mountain.
The clatter and clamour of the village faded away as he climbed the hillside. A mountain goat path made the ascent much easier than it might have been. When he reached the promontory, he stopped to take in the view below. It was approaching dusk now. On the plain, several miles distant, a wall of ice about a third of a mile high ran north-east until it buried itself into the horizon. In the wide valley below, the village ran along the winding river for several miles—the stark white tepees belching the smoke of their evening fires as they warmed the interior. He saw the far-away figures of his people mill about—the women prepared the evening meals around communal campfires. The men had gathered into groups here and there to talk of the day’s events. Children ran boisterously through the midst of the encampment engaged in their endless play.
Quiet Man looked beyond the village and saw the buffalo way off in the distance; they had settled in for the night some stood, some had lain down in the grass. The Earth was coming to rest again. Quiet Man remembered this scene from ages ago when, in another life as Jan Pinchette, he had been given a vision by his teacher, Wanagi Ska. Quiet Man looked down at the base of the mountain—the very place that he had begun his ascent. There stood a tall and powerfully built man with a full head of platinum coloured hair. He was looking straight up at Quiet Man. Wanagi Ska had returned from his walkabout. He raised his right arm and opened his had to expose his palm to Quiet Man. Quiet Man returned the gesture. He knew then that he had been given a vision of his future and now he was standing in the middle of it.
He had been reunited with his beloved wife, Sarah, who had now taken her original name of Bright Eyes. They were members of the Beaver Clan. How ironic, Quiet Man thought. The mysterious “Keepers”—the Kree had once referred to him as such. He was a shaman of his clan now. He brought spirit power to his people—the angels and the wisdom-givers ministered to them. Life was good. He had met three of his former children from the old life. They still addressed him as father. His offspring from one hundred generations addressed him so; he was often given such great respect. The Elder Race—those souls that had been created at the beginning of time—often said of him that he was slow to speak and quick to act in the service of his people. He looked toward Wanagi Ska again and saw that his wife, the sister of long-lost Running Deer, who had claimed her original name Spotted Fawn, was with him. They embraced and passionately kissed. “Ah!” He thought. “At last some justice has been paid to the White Ghost for the many long seasons of service to Man Above. He is happy once again.” Quiet Man saw that the stars had begun to bleed into the evening sky and thought he had better return to his family. It wasn’t right for a man to ask of his wife a fine supper and then forget to show up to eat it! He turned to make his descent and, as he walked, he heard the haunting melody of a flute. It played a song the name of which he could not recall. He passed by the tree line and could hear it echo inside the forest. Perhaps, he thought, someone might be offering the melody up to Man Above with his evening prayers of gratitude.
As Quiet Man left the tree line and descended the slope to the valley floor he could hear the noise of the village once again. It had become much quieter because families were taking in their evening meal. He walked toward the village outskirts and could see the communal campfires glowing red and orange in the night air—the faces of the people surrounding them aglow with contentment. Soon he found his own encampment. His wife and daughter sat near the cooking fire. Bright Eyes was instructing Scream Twenty Times how to stir the vegetable stew that she had made for them. Quiet Man saw that his wife had made him his favorite corn bread cakes and, as he approached them, he reached down and took one from the plate to eat.
“This is good. Have you tried one, my daughter?” Quiet Man asked the little girl.
“Yes father, I have and they are very good.” She politely replied.
Scream Twenty Times was coming of age now. She was six years old and, in three years, she would soon approach the day of transformation when, in their ninth year, all of the children are known to connect their spirit—their soul— with their true self, The One Infinite Creator, and become whole. “Except for the one boy,” Quiet Man thought as he watched his daughter help her mother. He was thinking of that strange young man, Stands Alone, who had never connected it seemed. He could speak but he hardly did so. He had passed way beyond his ninth birthday and was now sixteen years of age and still he had not made a declaration. He was consummately good mannered and a very obedient son never having given his parents anything about which they might have complained. But he always seemed remote and off in his own world—as though he were sleepwalking. It troubled the tribal elders much.
Quiet Man suggested that his parents bring him along on this year’s pilgrimage. “You could pray with him when we reach Mato Paha.” Quiet Man suggested. “Perhaps Man Above may appear and tell us what must be done.” The elders thought this a wise suggestion and hoped for the best. Once during this pilgrimage when Quiet Man and Red Wolf communed together—taking a nice long walk along the river bank away from the village, they had seen Stands Alone wandering by himself. Quiet Man asked the wise old wolf if he knew what might be the problem. Red Wolf simply said: “It will be revealed in good time.” And he dropped the subject. Being polite, Quiet Man did not raise the topic again and they discussed many, many things that afternoon.
He sat down on a folding chair beside the fire. His wife fussed over him—filling his plate and making sure that he was properly cared for. He had often told Bright Eyes that she didn’t have to do that but the hearth and the home were her dominion. He was compelled to cooperate with her perspective on that part of their life together. She proudly handed him his plate of food. It smelled heavenly! He took it from her hand and thanked her. Quiet Man waited until she had fixed a plate for their daughter and herself and, after everyone was seated together, they gave thanks to Man Above and began to eat. Everyone was quiet at first but then Quiet Man thought he’d strike up a conversation.
“You see that Wanagi Ska has returned from his walkabout?” He inquired of Bright Eyes.
“Yes. And, did you see who he has brought with him?” She chuckled.
“Ah, yes, isn’t that nice? After all this time; they are finally reunited. I wonder why she chose to wait so long.” He asked.
“She told Peacock Woman that it was because she had been on many adventures throughout the Universe having been told that the White Ghost was committed to his duties for Man Above. She didn’t feel as though it would be right to distract him. And, well, I agree with her. We are all immortals now. We have plenty of time to get to know one another again.” Bright Eyes replied observantly.
“Humph!” Quiet Man said finishing a mouthful of stew. “This is good!”
“Thank you my husband.” Bright Eyes replied.
“I think that she is a major distraction for Wanagi Ska now! Ha!” Quiet Man laughed good-heartedly slapping his right knee. “And why not? He waited patiently. The future belongs to those two love birds now.”
Bright Eyes smiled at her husband. “He is your friend.” She said matter-of-factly.
“And my teacher,” he added biting down on another corn bread cake.
“Say, how do you make these so sweet without using sugar?” He inquired.
His daughter looked up at her father. “It is a woman’s secret, father.”
“Oh—that’s right! I almost forgot!” Quiet man replied smiling affectionately at his daughter.
Bright Eyes rose from her place and poured Quiet Man a cup of hot mint tea. “Here, husband,” she said, “this will help you wash down the corn bread.”
Quiet Man took the mug from her. He brought it to his nose and smelled the aroma. “Mmmm!” He said taking a sip. “Not too hot!”
“Elder Brown Eagle told me that the camp moves on tomorrow.” She reported.
“Yes, I have been told that I must accompany that strange boy, Stands Alone, at the head of our column.” Quiet Man explained. “The Elders believe that he must be in full view as we approach Mato Paha. You know—so that Man Above can see him.”
Bright Eyes simply nodded slowly in acknowledgement. She knew Stands Alone’s mother and how much his strange affliction often worried her. But, everyone in the tribe understood that everything had a place and a reason for being and such matters were better left to Man Above to resolve. They would reach Mato Paha tomorrow at dusk. It would be an interesting matter to see what happened next.
***
In the morning, the people began to break down the camp—carefully disassembling their tepees and packing their belongings. Everything was loaded into carefully constructed wagons built as flatbed boats with undercarriages and wide sturdy wheels on each of the three axels; one articulated axel in front and two tandem axels in the back. Should they have to ford a river, the wagons would float across allowing the animals pulling them to swim. On occasion, the wagons could be used as barges floating up or down stream tied to their teams by long ropes that could be released in an emergency. The drivers would then lead their teams alongside on paths pulling the wagon-barges along to their destination. Paths had been worn into the riverbank from generations of drivers and teams using the river in such a fashion.
The rest of the community rode horses or walked. People walking were sent to the front of the column—for obvious reasons; those that rode horses were behind them and the wagons behind those that were mounted. Such pilgrimages were carefully planned for months in advance. These were community events in the lives of the human beings. On this morning, the elders—the tribal chiefs—and those that formed the hierarchy of tribal government walked along the wide road toward the center of the Earth in a long column nine abreast. Their pace was not a hurried one but then neither was it leisurely. And, out in front of the people walked Quiet Man and Stands Alone with the elders of the Beaver Clan. His wife and daughter rode with his parents somewhere in the back of the column—his father had been asked to tend to the wagon and its team. It was a clear day and the air was fresh and invigorating. Quiet Man thought of how often it was such whenever he participated in a pilgrimage. The elders always chose a time when the rain was far off so that the people could travel in relative comfort. Not everyone wanted to ride either a horse or a wagon. Many of the human beings preferred to walk.
A pilgrimage could take a few months to complete. But, what else were the people to do but serve the Prime Creator and give thanks to It for such a wonderful life? The human beings were known throughout the Earth as master craftspeople because they would execute their skills as a gift to Man Above—they were that devoted to The One Infinite Creator. Everything that they made, all the music that they composed, even their art and the words that were written down in poetry and prose were devoted to Man Above. Their love for the Prime Creator radiated from everything that they did and so the people tended to behave as a cohesive community of men, women, and children. They were sovereign integrals, yes, but their strength came from their communion with The One Infinite Creator as a people.
Quiet Man looked out over the prairie as they walked along the road. To his right, he saw Red Wolf walking alongside the column far off in the grass—his back visible above the swaying vegetation from time-to-time. Here the grass was much taller than where he and his family lived. He also noticed that the occasional trees that dotted the landscape were magnificent natural living sculpture. They had not been disturbed for centuries and they were huge. The road upon which the people walked wound its way between these trees. So great were their boughs that, very often, the people would take refuge from the warm summer sun beneath the shade they cast.
Stands Alone walked beside him; he hadn’t said a word since they had resumed their journey earlier that morning. He just walked along beside him and seemed to be preoccupied in contemplation of some sort. He was a very pleasant young fellow. His parents had claimed that, when he had reached the age of transformation, which is nine years of age, he had not revealed himself nor did he choose a name. Stands Alone had always been a quiet child but they expected him to change in the same manner as did everyone else. Instead he merely continued on in this quiet pensive behavior. Everyone in his clan had just accepted it as part of the plan of Creation. He understood the popular languages among his people—both Lakota and the Common Tongue. When his father took him on trips to the settlement, he went with him and helped him. He was an obedient and helpful son to his mother and a kind older brother to his younger siblings. He was just a very quiet person that, in his private moments, preferred to be alone. “Very strange,” Quiet Man thought, “very strange, indeed.”
By the afternoon, the people could see Mato Paha in the distance. It gave their hearts great joy. Perhaps, Man Above would visit with them this year. Quite Man noticed that Stands Alone kept walking out in front of the column. It was as though he was anticipating something; he was eager to press on. The elders looked at Quiet Man with approval. It may be that, this year, his transformation would be completed—at least they all hoped that it would. They reached the sacred mountain in the late afternoon and began to set up an encampment along its southern base—well away from the mountain out of respect for Man Above. Many had brought wood to fuel their campfires but a number of the men scattered out among the forested places to gather dry fallen wood along the forest floor. By sunset, the encampment was alive with the business of the people as they cooked their evening meals and warmed their tepees. If Man Above would come soon, they would surely see the sign—a column of light as though a whirlwind of fire had settled down among them. They would begin their ceremonies tomorrow.
***
Quiet Man rose up early—at twilight—when the tension between the dark of night and the light of day are equal. He got dressed and ventured outside of his family’s tepee; he stretched his arms and yawned. He surveyed his world. The Earth was still quiet—its creatures still resting. The horizon displayed a thin blue-white line of light that gradually faded into the black night sky. Above his head millions of stars still twinkled. The sun was on its way into a new day and it lifted Quiet Man’s spirit. He loved Man Above and felt obligated to worship him deep inside his heart but he longed for his comfortable bed at home on his family’s small ranch. Man Above would understand; it was a matter of simple creature comfort—thus had he been fashioned; he was a “caretaker” after all.
The camp fire was nearly out. It had a few lingering coals; Quiet Man would use these to rekindle it to life. He began this task in a casual manner—almost without thinking. Someone stirred inside the tepee; Quiet Man left his tinkering with the camp fire and looked inside. It was his daughter in a restless sleep turning to the left and then to the right. Quiet Man thought he might wake her but his wife then awoke, surveyed the immediate situation, and just rubbed the child’s tummy a bit. Screams Twenty Times stopped her restlessness and fell back into a deep sleep. His wife looked up at him. Even emerging from her sleep her eyes shone that Bright Blue of her namesake. She smiled at him. He put the extended index finger of his right hand to his lips as a sign to be a quiet as possible for the child’s sake. Bright Eyes nodded approvingly and then flopped back down in her sleeping bag and closed her eyes. Quiet Man withdrew and closed the entrance flap of the tepee.
The morning time was chilly even though this was summer. He could see his breath until he approached the growing campfire. He stirred the coals beneath the wood he had carefully stacked into a cone of fuel. Then he swung his wife’s kettle closer to the fire filling it with fresh water from her carryall. A nice hot cup of mint tea would wake him from his grogginess. After about an hour, Bright Eyes emerged from the tepee wrapped in her thick woolen blanket. She walked to the campfire and sat down on the log beside him. He fixed her a cup of tea.
“The festival begins today?” She asked as a confirmation.
“Hmmm. Yes, today.” He answered. “Well, at least they will begin the preparations. Brown Eagle told me that today is the first day of the full moon. Today is Tree Day.” His expression became somewhat distant; he seemed to be musing. “See there?” He explained pointing to the little planetoid as it followed its ancient Mother through the heavens. Though the moon was in its own orbit about the sun now, it still was a fascination to the people of Earth. Its countenance wasn’t as before; it had become yet another celestial light in the heavens now. But, the people of Earth remembered and the calendars had been adjusted to reflect the change in both its presence and purpose.
“What are you thinking of, my beloved?” She inquired in an attempt to break him free from his reverie. She wanted his conversation.
“Oh, I was thinking of Stands Alone. What will happen to the poor little fellow?” He answered.
“Ah, yes!” She replied. “I had almost forgotten.” And she drank down some of her tea.
Today, after the dancing and singing to alert Man Above that the people were ready to receive the spirit of the Prime Creator, Quiet Man and the elder Chiefs would take Stands Alone up into the sacred mountain to ask Man Above for guidance. They had received no messengers; they had no communications from Man Above for nearly seven years. They reasoned that the Prime Creator had not deserted them; the land was still blessed and the people were still prosperous. There had been peace throughout the world since the days of the first transformations thousands of years before. So, the elders knew that Man Above had a plan because seven—the number of years that Its spirit had not manifested itself to the people—was the number of the Most High; The One Infinite Creator.
The sun began to show itself on the horizon. Blue bled into night as it continued its ascent. Soon, mighty Jupiter began its ascent as well. Quiet Man and his true love, Bright Eyes, watched the event huddled together before their warming campfire. They savored the moments; the entire village encampment would soon be awake and the joy of life among their people would surround them once again. Birds began to twitter and they heard a hawk screech in the sky above them. They could hear the low bellow of the buffalo off in the distance. Somewhere nearby they heard Red Wolf stir—his yipping calling out to his cousins in the forested areas surrounding them. Then they began to hear the conversations of their people as they emerged to greet the new day.
Bright Eyes smiled at her beloved. “Let me start our breakfast.” She begged. He continued to hold on to her as she rose. “Stop it you lusty man!” She laughingly said as she gently slapped at his hand.
“Do you really want me to stop?” He said jokingly.
“No! I want you to let me fix us breakfast before that garden variety elf of ours wakes and wonders where her meal is!” Bright Eyes pleaded.
He let her go laughing. “I think that I will go visit with Red Cloud and learn of what the elders have planned.” He said as he rose up from the fire. It was still cold and he wrapped himself up in his blanket.
“Make sure that you are back within the hour. I don’t want your food over cooked and I don’t want you to have a cold meal.” She lectured.
“All right. All right.” He said calmly waving his hand at her and he walked off toward the eastern end of the village where Red Cloud’s clan had made their encampment.
As he walked through the center of the village encampment, he saw the men constructing a sacred circle in preparation for the Sun Dance. It was very close to the summer solstice and the “full moon” would be upon them soon as Luna made its closest approach to Jupiter on its orbital path. Two of the men were busy at the center of the circle preparing a hole to accept the cottonwood Sun Pole—the symbol of Wakan Tanka which is to say: The Great Mystery—a name given to The One Infinite Creator by the Lakota people. All of the human beings had begun to call Him Man Above because, in those spirited visitations throughout the millennia since the first transformations had begun, the Prime Creator always appeared as a powerfully built man with a friendly, kind face. Other men constructed the sweat lodges where the participants would go to purify themselves prior to engaging in the ceremony. Still others organized the places for the drums and the singers where ancient sacred songs would be sung to the beat of the drums which beat was the rhythm of the human heart—a symbolic reference to the heart of the people.
Though the promise of Man Above had been secured, the human beings of every tribe still performed the Sun Dance. They did this to assure the Prime Creator that they would never forget the lessons that had been learned in ancient times; lessons learned at the hands of the evil-doers who had tried to eradicate the human beings from the face of the Earth. Although they no longer pierced themselves, they kept the custom of the dance to celebrate the blessings of Creation. So, now the Sun Dance was performed in celebration of the fulfillment of the promise: That the human beings should be restored and the land put back beneath their feet; and that they should be given immortal life to enjoy the blessings of Creation forever and ever.
As Quiet Man approached his great chief’s encampment, he looked ahead to see Red Cloud walking away from the village toward the banks of the New River and he hurried to catch up with him.
“Slow down Quiet Man.” Red Cloud advised as Quiet Man approached him.
“My Chief, you have eyes in the back of your head!” Quiet Man said with some humor in his tone.
“My spirit could see you when you were standing with your beloved at the cooking fire this morning.” Red Cloud replied. He had returned to the people a chief but had become a very powerful healer as well. Healers looked after the people in a number of ways that were not exclusively related to physical health. But, children still got into mischief and often hurt themselves. Such shamans could heal the cuts and scratches and mend the occasional broken bone with a thought! After a child’s transformation, they would become very much less impetuous and given to listening more intently to the wisdom-givers. Red Cloud’s intuition was also vast and mysterious—not like those of his contemporaries. “You want to know what we should do with Stands Alone. Don’t you?” He added.
“Yes, my Chief.” Quiet Man replied. “Should I bring him to Two Bears Walking to begin his purification?”
“An excellent idea.” Red Cloud replied. “The boy is something special. I believe—in my heart—that Wakan Tanka will unravel a great mystery before our eyes during this festival. I have asked several of the others—those from other nations among the whites and the blacks and the yellows—if they had ever witnessed such a thing as a child passing over the transformation and they had not. Therefore, I believe Stands Alone to be unique and I believe that his troubles are caused by an ancient task that is yet unfinished.”
“Some of the shamans think that since this is the seventh year from the year that Stands Alone should have passed through his transformation, this will be the time of such a revelation.” Quiet Man said walking beside his revered leader.
“Mmmm! I agree with that as well. We all pass through the transformation in the ninth year of our life because the number nine is the number of completion. Seven is the number of God it signifies a revelation of our living experience—a discovery! Perhaps the Creator means to finish something that he started long ago. Let the ceremony begin. And, when it has been completed as is the custom of our people, you shall bring him up into the sacred mountain and, there, pray for the Creator to visit with us. Let us hope that an answer is forthcoming.” Red Cloud explained.
“Very well, my Chief,” Quiet Man replied obediently.
“Now, get back to your beautiful wife before she has us all praying to the Creator for deliverance for having kept you from the breakfast she prepares!” Red Cloud said with affectionate humor in his voice.
Quiet Man smiled back and then turned to trot back to his tepee. There he found his wife in the process of preparing his first meal of the day. Their daughter sat upon the log before the fire sipping a cup of tea. “Little family!” Quiet Man said as he approached. Bright Eyes looked up at him and beamed an approving smile.
“Good morning, father!” Screams Twenty Times said.
“Good morning, my sweet!” Quiet Man replied as he sat down beside them. Bright Eyes gave him his plate and his utensils and he assumed a comfortable position and began to eat. She passed him a hot mug of tea. Quiet Man took it and drank from it. The warmth of the tea and the pleasant warmth of the presence of his little family enveloped his emotions in contentment.
***
Now, the ceremony of the Sun Dance can last a number of days but it is in the last four days that those who have prepared themselves participate in the ceremony of the dance. On the first day of the first “full moon” of the summer solstice, those who have been appointed find a cottonwood tree to use as the Sun Pole. With great care and affection, the tree is brought into the sacred circle from the west. There, its top is decorated with bundles of sage and kinikinik—a type of tobacco derived from the red willow. The pole is then erected by placing it into the hole prepared for it. The participants, who have purified themselves, and fast abstaining from all nourishment except a tea made from the sage plant, dance and pray and meditate. On the third day, and in place of the ancient custom of piercing, the participants make every attempt to dance until they are exhausted. When all sit down to rest, the drums and the singing of the ancient songs stop. The village falls quiet and the people meditate on the goodness of their new life and do so until the sun sets. Because the spirit of all life is holy, even the animals give way to the meditation of the people. At the center of the Earth, all becomes quiet to show respect. At the end of the day—at dusk—the participants are allowed to drink one final ceremonial cup of sage tea and, after prayers of thanksgiving, the people celebrate with a great feast called Hoka.
Just before dusk on the third day—when the shadows grow long and the air becomes cool again, Quiet Man brought Stands Alone to a place just outside the sacred circle. There, Red Cloud approached them in full ceremonial dress. He had four assistants with him and each assistant carried a cup of body paint prepared from natural sources. Taking a clean brush from each assistant, Red Cloud painted the four quadrants of Stands Alone’s face. Facing him, he painted the upper left quadrant with red paint signifying that his blood was the blood of his people. On the upper right quadrant the great chief used yellow paint to signify wisdom and bravery for he was sure that Stands Alone would soon meet with The One Infinite Creator. In the lower left quadrant Red Cloud used black paint to signify strength as the boy had been fasting now for three days. And, finally, in the lower right quadrant, he used white paint to signify that the human beings had been reunited with their true spirits which had been animated by God at the dawn of time. This, Red Cloud hoped, would remind Man Above that Stands Alone had not fulfilled his destiny and that he needed His help.
The sun was setting but had not yet touched the distant mountains. It sat there—a bright orange ball in a clear blue sky that bathed the planet in its seemingly inexhaustible energy. The rim of Jupiter was now low on the horizon and the encampment became quiet. People throughout the village began to make their way toward the gathering. Red Cloud gently turned Stands Alone toward Mato Paha and signaled to Quiet Man that he should proceed as they had planned with a simple nod of his head. Quiet Man gently took hold of the boy’s left elbow and led him toward the mountain’s base. The elders followed several paces behind them. The musicians beat their drums and sang out a prayer of supplication:
Wakan Tanka!
I have purified myself.
I have fasted.
I have wished
And I have wanted.
Now I beg you, Great Creator!
Show your face and speak to me!
I am here!
Grant my petition.
Fulfill my yearning and make me whole!
That I may walk among my people
And share the knowledge of the Universe.
This is my birthright is it not?
As Quiet Man and Stands Alone reached the mountain’s base, the drums fell silent; the singing stopped. In the east, they sky began to fade into the wine-dark of night; a few stars began to appear. From the west came a mild and pleasantly warm breeze. It rustled in the tops of the trees and made the young pines creak as they bent to its gentle force. A glowing aura settled in upon the mountain and began to extend outward until it enveloped the entire encampment. The people looked about and then looked at their hands and wondered as the aura clung to them and intensified. They heard a loud screech from above; everyone looked up! It was Wambli Ska, the great white eagle! He had not been seen in a long, long time and the people marveled at his size and his presence; he was a wisdom-giver. He gently glided into their midst and settled down on a huge rock that formed part of the embankment at the base of the mountain. Everyone was enamored with his magnificent appearance. He stood over six feet tall and was pure white from head to claw. The aura clung to him as well and made his person glow making his appearance all the more wondrous.
“Take off your moccasins,” he commanded the people, “for the ground upon which you stand is holy.”
Everyone broke from their reverie and quietly removed their moccasins—men, women, children. Red Wolf slowly made his way toward the base of the mountain to sit on his haunches, facing the people, opposite White Eagle. He began to glow a beautiful red-orange color like that of the sun! Quiet Man and Stands Alone stood between the two wisdom-givers now—each great being standing several feet from them.
“Behold, your Creator who loves you!” White Eagle said. And with that, the image of Man Above gradually appeared in front of Quiet Man and Stands Alone. He was dressed in a beautiful wardrobe of pure white buckskin. Strange and wondrous designs delicately embroidered with closely woven beadwork of precious stones decorated his shirt. His hair was long and braided in the fashion common to the men of the human beings and about his head he wore a pure white headband of braided leather interlaced with golden thread. Around his waist he wore a finely decorated belt of intricate beadwork and upon his feet were beautifully decorated moccasins. Man Above smiled at them and took a few steps toward them. Quiet Man could actually feel the power of the Prime Creator moving through his person and his heart began to race. He looked at Stands Alone who remained almost oblivious to what was happening—silent, obedient, and humble before the Creator. Man Above addressed the boy:
“Running Deer. . .I have heard your prayer. It had brought me great pain to see my first born perish from the Earth. Forgive me, my son. I had meant the others to be the vanguard of my Word—my Promise. They were created to lay the foundation of a sacred trust!
They were to share in the giving—creating a new Universe. But, perhaps, I should have been satisfied with the old one. They offended me. They killed off the old men and little children, women too, and the horses, the dogs, and the buffalo! Nothing that was alive then meant anything to them! They had eyes in their head but they couldn’t see. They had ears but they didn’t hear! I gave them hearts that beat within their breasts but they couldn’t love anything other than themselves.
Therefore, I decided then—oh so long ago: You would be made whole again! The ancient ones would rise to claim their rightful place upon the land again. But this time, I would not change The Way.
When the last of them was gone, their evil destroyed by a long season of my disappointment, I caused the rolling grasses to grow thick as in the ancient times. The buffalo now feed upon the plenty and grow strong and increase their numbers.
As the great herds travel back and forth, they cause the dust of the earth to rise up into the wind. And, from this dust I call out to all of my venerable people by name and make them men and women and children again.
Behold, my son, the time of evil upon the Earth has long since ended. My anger was kindled against those who had no spirit. My fury approached them from the East to descend upon their wretchedness and consume them! I tore them all to pieces for what they had done. But, you continued to trust me.
For your kindness and gentle nature, I will give you gifts of great value as an eternal reward: The company of your loved ones, short mild winters followed by a warm pleasant springtime, golden harvests, and a summer love to call your very own.
Come child; I release your spirit. Here boy, walk with me now.”
Quiet Man stood amazed as the paint fell away from Stands Alone’s face and he became radiant—his clothing too became white, even the deer skin. Stands Alone shook his head and looked at his arms.
“My hand,” he said, “my hand! Was it not severed from my arm just a few moments ago? And where is this place?” He asked looking at Quite Man. “Who are you?”
Quite Man looked at Man Above for guidance. The Creator nodded his head approvingly. “I am Quiet Man. You have been in a deep sleep. Tell us who you are. What is your true name? Fear not. You are with your people and the image of your Creator is before you.”
Stands Alone looked at Quiet Man quizzically. Then he turned to Man Above who reached out and touched his right shoulder. The boy slowly turned to face the elders and all the people. “I am Running Deer!” He proclaimed.
The people let out a collective sigh—almost in relief to see that Man Above had restored the boy to his true nature. Then, Man Above stepped forward and put his left arm around Running Deer’s shoulders in an affectionate embrace. He gently waved His right arm in front of him and the sun was made somewhat brighter. Again, the people sighed in awe. Then with great affection He spoke:
“Is the Sun not beautiful as its light plays upon the river's waters? The wind among the great pines is as a song in the ears of the living, is it not? Have you ever seen such a beautiful sky, Running Deer?
Breathe deep. Fill your soul with the rest you have surely earned and the Hope that you deserve. Look here, your mother and father approach us.” Wakan Tanka released the boy and encouraged him to step forward toward the people.
A couple emerged from the crowd—a man and a woman. The woman was crying—her face awash in tears of joy—her arms outstretched beckoning to the boy. And, immediately, Running Deer recognized them. “Mother! Father!” He cried out to them as they moved through the elders to embrace their son who was lost to them all these thousands of years but was now restored. Then Wanagi Ska approached with his beloved, who was Running Deer’s sister. The young maiden embraced her brother as well.
Wanagi Ska looked directly into the eyes of his Creator. “Beloved,” he said to Wakan Tanka, “you always make everything come out just right. You have my gratitude.”
Man Above smiled and walked toward Wanagi Ska and embraced him. “Obedient son!” He said affectionately. “You shall never know sorrow again!” Man Above stood back looking into the face of his adoring servant and smiled warmly. Then he turned to Red Cloud and said a most astonishing thing:
“Great Chief, I have come to share in the Hoka! May I therefore attend?” He asked out of the great courtesy that so much a part of His being.
“My Beloved! You need never ask your people such a thing!” Red Cloud said astonished. “We are your children and you are our Father. Our house is always open to you!”
Man Above laughed a gentle laugh and gave Red Cloud and affectionate embrace; Then, He walked toward the elders. “Good then, let us feast and enjoy each other’s company.” He said as he led all toward the sacred circle. He waved his arm in a gently sweeping motion and blossoms burst forth from the sage stems tied to the top of the Sun Pole! Man Above signaled to the musicians that they should make merry the feast of the celebration of the return of Running Deer. And, from that day forward, the human beings would solemnize this day and call it: The Day of the Promise Fulfilled.
As the sun was then allowed to set on this great day, the musicians beat their drum and sang out a prayer of thanksgiving:
Look here all you people!
Wakan Tanka sits among us!
See him eat our food!
See him drink pure water!
See how He is happy and laughs
As the Heyoka dance to lift our spirits!
Bless us all this holy day.
Bless the Earth and its entire people!
Wakan Tanka sits among us!
We shall all live forever!
There will be no end to time.
There will be no end to time.
From that day forward, the Earth became more beautiful than it had ever been. The grass was greener, the sky was vivid blue in daytime and deep and dark at night allowing all of the billions of stars to light up the night. When the old moon would pass by in its solitary orbit around the sun, it showed brighter and more beautiful than anyone could ever remember. Life became prolific bringing with it the magical energy of its essence. The Myrmidons were pleased; their precious living library now complete. In time the people, who assisted them as caretakers, forgot the past that had brought so much evil and suffering. And the angels walked among men again for the Earth had been taken up into that Fourth Density dominion of Wakan Tanka, the Co-Creator Elohim of The One Infinite Creator! The sun was perpetually renewed by His presence. The Cosmos was given to men as a place where they could enjoy adventure and great expectations! And, mankind became fruitful and multiplied throughout the Universe. All the life that God had fashioned did not fear mankind after that for every creature, large and small, knew that these were the stewards of their worlds—the gardeners and the husbandmen that were given the Trust. That Trust became the whole of Creation! And our most magnificent One Infinite Creator, would never be lonely again!
* * *
The Eddies in the Currents of Time
The Makers Rejoice!
“A toast to our success!” Emile proclaimed raising a goblet of deep red wine. He had completed his own transformation and was absolutely thrilled with his new personage—a corporeal body of his density’s higher resonance. Tofla too had decided to make the transformation and, as soon as his body had reached a suitable maturity, sought out his old friend. They were handsome young fellows all tall and powerful, their smooth skin so immaculate that they almost took on the gleam of precious stones! This day they wore their most excellent robes of deep royal blue and white with golden threads along the hems and sandals of the finest material. For on this day, they were to celebrate the fulfillment of the Creator’s Promise by participating in a great feast!
Tofla picked up his goblet and returned his friend’s gesture. “To our continued success,” he said, “Our powers having been magnified and our status notwithstanding.”
Emile drank deeply and then realized what his companion had said. He stopped drinking, swallowed his wine, cleared his throat, and bobbed on his heels just a bit. Leaning toward Tofla with just a tad of drama in his body language he asked: “Has the Master made you aware of another project?” Emile’s chin was raised somewhat—he eyed his friend with a sideways expression holding his goblet close to his abdomen.
“Well, no, He hasn’t but…well…you know how He is.” Tofla replied.
Emile felt relieved. “Ah...you don’t think He might ask for improvements to this one, do you?”
“Oh no—not at all; I suspect that there’s some other cosmic corridor to explore; another adventure so-to-speak. What say you?” Tofla inquired.
“Oh, I’m all for that!” Emile returned and he lifted his goblet to his lips again. He took another gulp. “My most benevolent Jeshua, this stuff is delicious! Michael!” Emile called across the room. The big archangel was talking to a friend. Michael snapped his attention away from the conversation momentarily to see what Emile wanted. “I say, Michael, from where did you get this wine?” Emile asked him.
“The Master made it.” Michael returned.
Emile extended his goblet toward him in a gesture of thanks. Then he turned to Tofla.
“Is it any wonder, then,” Emile offered raising his goblet to his friend!
“Yes, indeed.” Tofla replied. And they continued their discussion about what, of all the possibilities, their next project might be.
“Gentlemen…gentlemen,” Tuma Souvlak called out as he entered the room clapping his hands to get their attention, “our supper is served in the Grand Dining Hall. Please follow me.” And all of the guests from this congregation milled through the great doorway into the gigantic dining hall of the Master’s new Palace. Tables were arrayed neatly and elegantly decorated. Delicious delicacies of every kind populated the dining tables in great well-dressed serving dishes. The dinnerware was like nothing anyone had ever seen! Everything gleamed in gold and precious gems. And, the bread smelled wonderful! On the dais there sat the Master with his companions and close to him, on his right side, was his favorite, John Zebedee. Emile, Tofla, Michael, and Gabriel paused before they took their seats. They looked at each other and smiled to one another.
“That sight makes all the effort worth the time and energy it took. Wouldn’t you agree, my friends?” Michael asked his companions. The others shook their heads affirmatively.
They sat down. Others in the hall followed suit. And when all became quiet—the guests seized with great expectation, the Master rose from his seat and spoke to them: “Welcome,” He began, “welcome to this celebration. Let us all give thanks to The One Infinite Creator, whom we all lovingly serve, for this magnificent day.” Everyone bowed their heads in silence. Then the Master said a prayer of gratitude.
“Heavenly Spirit: we give thanks to you for the patience you have shown to all of us. We thank you for your generosity and for the sustenance we have received. We abide in your indestructible and unconditional love. Today we celebrate the fulfillment of your promise and revel in the beauty of this Paradise that you have fashioned for us. But, most of all, Magnificent Creator, we are most grateful for the eternal life with which you have blessed us all so that we might enjoy this Paradise with you.”
Then the Master sat down and, selecting a loaf of bread from the basket in front of him, he broke off a small piece and dipped it in his wine. He consumed the morsel and then smiled upon all of them saying: “Please, dine with me, my beloved friends.” And, he began his meal. In the presence of The One Infinite Creator, everyone joined in this communal supper. It would not be the last that they would share together for, in the New Kingdom, the House of this Master Crafter would be open to everyone and His table set for all time.