Evaluation stepped with her through the passage way. Instead of the narrow staircase that took a steep angle into the catacombs, a wide, well-lit stairway mounted a secluded section of the peak enclosed rafters of Pardy Hardy. There, light began to proliferate with her touch to the wall that stimulated a humming sound. Fascinated with the transformation Dale absorbed the scene with curious delight. On the walls posters hung in strategic locations, obviously for the entertainment of the desk’s frequenter. Held on the desktop sat some sort of electronic contrivance surrounded with photographs of their Gemini gift, the tiny emperor and his new sister, Iris, Jack with E.J., Brandy and her stalwart Thug, he and his wife, and their closest friends as well as their distant friends that dated her entrance into the organism.
Previously concealed ceiling windows now flooded the room in light as well as high-flying activity provided by Gaia’s children. In his peripheral vision Dale caught black and gray squirrels racing across the roof to their spiritual destination in the over hanging beech and oak branches. “Who did all of this Goddess?”
“Al and Ell. Do you approve?”
“Always,” confirmed with his continued assessment of the preponderance of what she had opened. “When?” evidenced perplexity.
“Months after Pardy Hardy’s completion.”
“Are you serious?” stupefaction engulfed his countenance laced with mild entertainment.
“You and Riles were busy overthrowing the government,” chuckled. “But Riles wasn’t in the dark long. You know Mr. I Find Things Out,” mocked in playful respect of the giant’s bass baritone voice. “When he did, he was understanding and remained silent.”
“Obviously. I thought he was my confidant.”
“He was and still is. Big Guy would never do anything to undermine you.”
“What do you do up here?”
“I meet strange men;” directed that the paper be placed in a bin on a table not far from the desk.
“Anyone I know?”
“All of them; you know all of them,” absent-mindedly searched. “You’re probably the strangest that’s ever mounted those stairs.”
“You’re going to make me work for this aren’t you Goddess?”
“Nope,” displayed the found key, opened a drawer, and retrieved a stack of paper to place it in his hands. “Since my arrival into this wacky bunch of spiritual entities I’ve been assembling ideas; thoughts from everyone. Over the years I’ve compiled four novels that illustrate, through story, the steps to spiritual flight.”
“I thought those books were more like recipe texts.”
“Usually, but how can anyone learn metaphysics through a cookbook? What I did was I made the stories pieces to which anyone can relate, even if their lives are altogether different from the main characters within these pages.”
“Do I know anyone in these pages?”
“Maybe.”
“Goddess!” set the pages on her desk.
“Kimosabe,” soothed his face, “do you feel as if you have something to hide?”
“No. But Goddess the individuals you're attempting to reach will misinterpret your assiduous efforts.”
“What makes you draw this conclusion? Have you abandoned confidence in the capabilities of the spirit?”
“Not at all; but I do know what's on the
perimeter of the tribes. There will be media-controlled judgments that will convolute what participants have accomplished. All of our efforts will be transformed into a ninety minute film that will have absolutely nothing to do with collective spiritual performance.”
