“Didn’t see that coming, did you?”
Lilly lay back in the bed, flabbergasted. “But aren’t you the town mayor or something, on the council and who knows what else?”
“I multitask.”
“Have you always been my Guardian?”
“Yes, always.”
“But I thought Guardians, you know . . . guarded.”
Letty stopped her knitting. “Did someone tell you I was good at this?” She laughed her shrill giggle. “Lilly, what we do would be simpler if humans weren’t so complicated. Most of you have such a low opinion of yourselves, you don’t begin to realize how powerful your choices and dominion are. Even human choices that are born of shadow-sickness must be treated with respect, because it is human beings who make them. So we watch and attend and then interfere when allowed, which is my favorite part. It’s one of the reasons your prayers are so powerful. It lets us mess with things.”
They could hear John coming down the hall, whistling his usual melancholy tune.
“Does he know?” asked Lilly.
“No.” She grinned. “He just thinks I’m old and odd. A Curmudgeon is what I think he calls me.”
John entered, glanced at Lilly, and looked so relieved that she thought he might cry.
“Lilly!” he exclaimed, and gave her a hug, which she returned. Something had changed inside her and she felt none of her usual hesitation or caution. “To see you awake and looking so well is the best gift I can imagine. You two have been catching up, I see.”
“Some,” acknowledged Lilly. “But I still have lots of questions. I take it you know about Simon and the mirror?” It felt good to not have secrets to hide anymore, and Lilly was determined to keep it that way.
“Yes, we know,” John said. “Simon has been shadow-sick from the first day he arrived here with Anita and Gerald.”
“You knew and didn’t tell me?” Lilly was shocked.
“Would you have believed us?”
“Probably not,” she acquiesced. “Why didn’t you stop him?”
“We needed time to determine what he was after. To tell you without proof would have driven you deeper into the dark that you were fighting.”
“Well, he said some pretty terrible things about you and the others.”
“In the nicest sort of way, I imagine,” grunted John. “You have to give him an A for effort.”
“So where is he? Simon?” Lilly wondered, and again the other two exchanged glances.
“I set a trap, which he voluntarily sprung. As we speak, he is miles to the south being companioned, like Karyn is to the north. They need to discover they are not alone before they can really be together.”
“Karyn. His wife? But I thought she was—”
“Karyn was the Scholar who became shadow-sick before they even got here. That mirror of hers probably had a lot to do with it. Terrible device. Anyway, our hope is that after their individual healing they will be reunited, embarrassed but better.”
“So why did he want me to use the mirror?”
“When I confronted him, he said he truly believed that you could use the mirror to change history and return his wife to him.”
“Where’s the mirror now?”
“Locked away deep in the Refuge. Scholars will try and mine its secrets. A preventive measure.” John clapped his hands as if to end the discussion. “So, Lilly of last questions, anything else come to your mind before we take you to the kitchen and feed you? Oh, and by the way, I came just now to see if the Healers were right. They said you have made remarkable progress. Unprecedented, I think was their term, an ambitious term for experts. They told me that you could even try and walk, if you are up for that. But very slowly and with a lot of help.”
Lilly was thrilled. First, John helped her sit at the edge of the bed, which they then lowered until her feet touched the floor. Carefully, she stood for the first time since her arrival. It was liberating, such a small success, but the effort left her light-headed, and after only a couple of wavering steps, she returned to the bed now converted into her chair.
“Amazing,” John declared, and Letty smiled ear to ear. “We will work on that and more. What do you think sparked such an unprecedented recovery?”
“Adonai,” Lilly replied.
“Of course,” affirmed John. “Adonai, and timing. Something I will never quite understand, but for which I am grateful!” He spoke it into the air as though talking to Someone invisible.
Letty led the way as John wheeled Lilly out. To Lilly, everything felt different, almost new, her senses heightened. She was thankful too and silently whispered such to Whoever might be listening.
Gerald and Anita, upon arriving in the dining area, rushed to give her hugs, which again she returned easily and openly.
They had barely sat when Lilly blurted out, “My thankful heart today is my best offering.” The others looked at her, bemused. “Well, I figured if I was ever going to learn to pray, this was as good a start as any.”
Over a comforting meal of soft eggs and buttered bread that tasted better than anything Lilly had ever put into her mouth, each person told their version of the past few days, with many laughs and occasionally a tear or two.
“Was I awful to you?” asked Lilly. “I was, wasn’t I? I am so sorry.”
“Not to worry, dear,” offered Anita. “We all were aware that there was much more going on behind the curtain than we could see.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Lilly. “It was a lot worse than you could have imagined. Simon and the mirror convinced me I was Lilith.”
“Lilith? Really?” Gerald blurted, obviously irritated by the mere suggestion. “Sheer fabrication! Mythology that has no truth in history.”
“I remembered how you feel about her, but it didn’t matter. That mirror and its poison reflected back the lies I already believed about myself. That I was a worthless, ugly girl, who might redeem herself by doing one good thing—save the world by stopping Mother Eve from turning.”
“Wow!” stated John, surprised. “And how were you supposed to do that?”
“I’m embarrassed to say,” stated Lilly slowly. “I thought if I gave myself to Adam as a substitute for Eve, he would stop trying to get her to leave the garden and join him, and then the world would be changed.”
“I didn’t know about this,” admitted Anita, “but I don’t think anything has changed.” She looked back at Lilly. “Has it?”
“I don’t think so,” Lilly replied, now herself a little uncertain.
“What happened?” asked John.
“Adam rejected me, or rather, Lilith. He chose Eve. That’s when I thought I was going to die, and Adonai came and found me.”
“So if nothing has changed,” surmised Gerald, “then at some point Eve must have left the garden.”
“I don’t know,” stated Lilly sadly. “But that seems to make sense. And Adonai seemed to think she would. Why would she do that?”
No one had an explanation that aligned well with what Lilly knew about Eve.
As the conversation continued, Lilly became aware that Anita and Gerald seemed to be hesitant about finishing their meal, as if they were keeping something from her. Finally she asked, “What is going on, you two?”
Anita clenched her jaw and couldn’t speak, so Gerald attempted, but a cascade of tears flowed with his words.
“We have received a summons, a request and invitation to another time and place, and we have accepted. We didn’t know how to tell you. I guess it seemed that if we kept talking, we would not have to say good-bye. I know that is silly, but it’s how I . . . we feel.”
“You’re leaving?” Lilly felt a rush of emotions. “When?”
“Soon,” Anita said sadly. “In a couple of hours. It was very sudden, but we both agree it warranted a quick response. I’m so sorry, Lilly. If there were another way . . .”
“No, it’s okay, really. I just didn’t expect it. You two have become . . . special to me, and I . . .” Lilly didn’t k
now how to find the words to say how much the couple mattered to her.
“We love you too,” said Gerald.
“And, Lilly,” continued Anita. “I have learned over a lifetime to trust God with everything that becomes precious to me, as you, dear one, have become to us. This is only the beginning of our story. If we didn’t have that sense, we would not be leaving.”
Lilly was quiet and then said, “I need to go and get something I would like to give you. Please don’t go without saying good-bye, okay?”
“Of course. At any rate, we also heard the Caretaker was coming for a visit later this afternoon, and we decided that if he wants either of us, he will have to put a little more effort into it.”
“I don’t understand! Who is this Caretaker person?”
“I’ll explain that to you later, Lilly,” said John. “But right now Gerald and Anita need to prepare for their next journey. Let’s all meet back here in an hour or so to say our farewells.”
“Letty, would you take me to my room?” asked Lilly, and without a word the Guardian pushed her out and down the hall.
“Thank you.” Lilly sighed. “I didn’t know what to say about all that I am feeling. It’s like . . . I mean, it’s as if I’ve finally found a family, and just as quickly they all get taken away.”
“Nothing stays the same, dear one. Trust is not a once-in-a-lifetime decision, but a choice made within each moment as the river runs. We are thankful for the gifts that surround us, and then we let them go, trusting that nothing will be lost, even if we lose it for a time.”
“I am really trying to understand, I am. You probably think I’m just a mess.”
“I think you’re a teenager.” Letty laughed. “The words often go together.”
That made Lilly laugh and she felt better.
When everyone gathered again in the living area to say their good-byes, Lilly handed her journal to Anita, who looked surprised.
“Your journal? Lilly, what is this?”
“It is my gift to you, the one thing that is most important to me, and I want you and Gerald to have it. You two mean more to me than anything I have, even something that is most precious.”
Anita and Gerald were both stunned. John looked on like a beaming father.
“Thank you,” said Gerald. “Truly, one of the greatest gifts we have ever received.”
“John made me this book, and it’s actually a recorder, like the ones down in the Vault. I’ve recorded everything I’ve witnessed, the good and the not so good, because I want you to have that too. I’ve done my part, and now I think it’s time for some Scholars to figure out what it all means.”
John showed Lilly how to add the Scholars’ hand-signatures so they too could access its contents. “I assume,” he told them, “that you will find another Vault in the place where you are going. There you can store and play it back for study.”
“We will see you soon enough, Lilly. It’s just a matter of time.” Without more fanfare everyone exchanged hugs with forehead touches, and then the Scholars left without looking back, for reasons that Lilly understood.
She parked her chair a few feet from the filament window and tentatively stood. John moved close but didn’t assist as she made a few weak, tottering steps to look down onto the beaches below. “I did it,” she proudly exclaimed, and John clapped in agreement.
Gingerly and carefully, she made her way back and sat, exhausted but elated. “John, will you wheel me to the Castle Patio so I can feel the wind and sun?”
For a second he hesitated before he spoke: “I would like that very much.” They soon made their way up the ramp and were about to go through the door and out into the sunshine, when Han-el unexpectedly appeared in front of them.
The Guardian smiled. “John,” the Singer sang, “I will be attending.”
John lowered his head for a moment and thought before nodding. “Thank you!”
“Attending what?” Lilly asked, a sick feeling creeping into her stomach.
Without answering, John pushed her past the Angel and into the open sun. Instead of feeling warmth, Lilly’s heart was gripped by a chill. She took a sharp, surprised breath. Looking out over the water was a stranger in a three-piece suit, his head topped by a black bowler hat that accentuated his pasty and anemic skin. The man’s eyes were hollowed and dark. In contrast to the blacks and whites he wore was an accessory completely out of place: a bow tie of bright scarlet.
“You’re the Caretaker?” she uttered, still trying to curb her fear.
The stranger didn’t turn but answered, his voice smooth and cold. “I have been looking for a friend, a particular one for a long, long time. A Collector. I think you know him, do you not? Is he close by?”
“I’m right here, Caretaker. As if you didn’t know,” John stated flatly.
One could almost say he smiled, this solemn man, but if that is what his expression was, it didn’t last for more than a fleeting moment.
There was something eerie about both his demeanor and authority, and Lilly edged her chair away. She instinctively didn’t want to be near him, not so much because he might be an imminent threat, but more because he stirred up profound trepidation and uncertainty in her heart. It was hard for her to imagine this man close to anyone, especially John the Collector.
“He might be your friend,” she whispered. “But he gives me the creeps!”
“A matter of one’s perspective, I suppose,” John laughed.
“He makes me think of a mortician,” she noted. “Except for that bow tie.”
“The tie?” He laughed again. “That has never made any sense to me.”
Now John spoke directly to the stranger. “So you have come for me?” The question caught Lilly by surprise.
“Wait—you knew he would be here? Why didn’t you say no when I asked to come up here?” she sputtered.
“Lilly, not once have I told you what to do or not, so why should I start now?” And leaning down, he kissed her on the forehead.
The Caretaker turned and for the first time acknowledged the Collector and nodded to Han-el.
“Hello, old friend,” he said to John. “You have been a wily one, difficult to trace.”
“I had help.” He tipped his head toward Han-el, who stood with arms folded.
“True, but now your passport is full. It’s time for you to go.”
“John,” Lilly hissed, “what is he talking about? Go where?” She was afraid to hear the answer.
“Go where?” John asked the visitor on her behalf. “Another island in between worlds somewhere, or in between dimensions?”
“No, not this time, John. Today, you go home.”
As if things were not strange enough, at these words John burst into tears.
“Home? You’ve come to take me home?” he sobbed, his legs giving way. He slumped to the ground next to Lilly’s chair. She put an arm protectively around him, but she was devastated. Twice in one day, it now seemed, she would be losing someone.
“I know why you came up here.” She breathed the words through gritted teeth. “John, you’re going to die, aren’t you?”
John, gathering himself, stood. But he was smiling through his tears. “May I have a moment to say good-bye?”
“I will wait only long enough for that before I dance you home.”
Ignoring the Caretaker, John knelt to speak to Lilly, face-to-face. “Lilly, I didn’t know for sure. I had my suspicions but was uncertain. I am sorry it is so sudden.”
“I hate this!”
“I know and understand,” he reassured her. “Lilly, listen to me. Because of Adonai, what looks to you like death will be for me more living.”
“I don’t understand!”
“You will, dear Lilly, you will.”
“But aren’t you sad? I’m so sad, I think I am going to fall apart.”
“It is always sad to leave one place and time and enter another, especially when you leave something, someone who is precious. When you get to be my
age, you know when a new beginning is close—it’s a premonition maybe? Letting go is also a returning.”
“John, you have helped put my heart back together. Do you know that you are the first man I’ve ever trusted, ever loved?”
“My honor and my privilege,” he whispered. “Lilly, God is such a magnificent artist that no one is ever healed alone. One day you will see how much healing you’ve brought me.”
“Me?”
“Lilly, I am not asking you to trust me for a lifetime, just for now, today and in this moment. Will you trust me?”
It took her minutes to catch her breath as he wiped away her tears. Finally, she said, “Yes! I will trust you, in this moment.”
“Then tell me good-bye.”
And she did. She hugged him and kissed his cheeks and cried and cried some more. And then she whispered, “Good-bye, John. I will see you soon.”
“You will!” he declared, and taking a deep breath, stood.
“Wait! I have one last question.”
John laughed, clean and clear. “Of course you do, what is it?”
“In Eden there are so many names for God. What do you call Him?”
“That is an easy one. My favorite name for God is Cousin!”
“Cousin?”
“Yes! I have always loved to tell anyone who asked that God is my cousin!” John beamed, as if he were growing younger. “Adonai, Jeshua, Jesus, the second Adam—my cousin, you will see!”
As he turned to face the Caretaker, Han-el appeared walking next to him and took him by the hand.
“I love you too, Lilly Fields!” John yelled back at her, his childlike joy radiant.
And reaching up above the rail, the Caretaker opened what appeared to be a door materializing in the air. He took John’s other hand and with a single agile step the three disappeared right through it. Lilly sat, her mouth open, as the portal shimmered and then evaporated like an image on the water disturbed by a splashing stone.
“Such a show-off,” stated Letty, standing next to her. “Come on, Lilly, we still have work to do! Good thing I don’t need stairs and ramps. Let’s get out of here!”
Nineteen
* * *