The Knapsack...part 3

Alistair paused a moment in the story, as if listening for the words that would come next.  Then he began to speak again. She could not take her eyes off hisface.

For the next two days she walked with the man who wore the golden robe. Well, more accurately, she followed him as he seemed to walk too fast for her and her knapsack was heavier than ever with the addition of all the lilies.  Finally, she collapsed onto the ground and, frowning, he stopped, turned back, and walked to where she lay.

"Can you not keep up?" he chastised. 

"It...it's the weight of my knapsack," she whimpered. Looking up his tall, splendid form she asked again, "Could you help me carry it....just a little while?" 

He laughed, showing perfect, white teeth. "It's not in my job description." 

"It's so....heavy," she sobbed.

He studied her with glittering eyes. "But you knew that all along....didn't you."  It was a statement, not a question. 

Closing her lids tightly, she sighed, "He....carried it for me." 

The man sneered, his lip in a sharp curve. "He had nothing better to do with his time."

She looked at him again then, and he smiled. "While I....I have work to do, places to go, people to see." 

"You are busy then?" she asked, not understanding really.

He looked back over his shoulder in the way they had come. "Because of him." 

Then he snapped, "Get UP! I have no patience for your weakness! Here!" And he handed her another lily, deeply scarlet with its center shading into black.

She took it, fascinated by its rare beauty. "Put it in your hair," he commanded. 

She did as he asked, but the weight of it caused a terrible pain in her neck and shoulders.  "I...I don't think I can wear this lily!" she gasped.

"Of course you can, " he said, looking at her, his eyes narrowed and hard. "You chose it." 

"I...I chose it?" she asked, confused.

"Did you not?" he almost laughed. "Did you not choose to cross the stream and come to me, taking my lilies?"

"Yes," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I did."

She had fallen near a large pine tree, and digging her fingertips into its bark, used it pull herself upright. Swaying unsteadily, she looked at her hands, cut and bleeding from the rough bark, one nail halfway torn off.  She remembered the warm gentleness of hands that had lifted her to her feet on the shadowed lane, and her chin trembled.

"Tears," he said, "will get you nothing but wet cheeks. You have delayed me long enough! Walk!"  

Inhaling a ragged, deep breath,  she trailed after him.  For two more hours she trudged, barely seeing where she was going as her thoughts were so filled with memories of a hand patting the grass beside the stream, a voice inviting, "Come, sit."  She recalled how he had looked standing in the morning light, holding the bread. Even now she could taste it on her tongue.     

The man in the golden robe stopped and she walked right into him, so unaware had she become of her surroundings.  The knapsack shifted and she fell hard.  He crouched beside her as she tried to get her breath back and when she could focus somewhat again, noticed he was holding out a lily in a flaming dark orange color. 

"Do you want it?" he asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

She looked at it long and carefully. Surely it was beautiful and were she to wear it would be....  Suddenly she saw a face...a face filled with joy as she had eaten the fruit he gave her. Blinking, she looked again at the lily, aware for the first time that these lilies had no fragrance.  In his hand, the orange lily seemed almost to flame and burn, becoming an ugly, horrid thing.

"No!" she said, "I do not want your lily." 

His eyes grew blacker as he stood, glaring at her. "Do you think...he...would have given you better? You have made your choice, my dear. " He poked at her knapsack with the tip of one elegant shoe. "I have proof of your choice." He smiled. "Besides, he is dead and you...you have come to walk with me." 

It was true, she knew, it was...all...true. "I have...rights...you know," he continued, "when you make your choice. You are quite stuck with me, now and forever." 

"He lies," a familiar voice said firmly from behind her.

Both heads jerked around quickly at the sound. A man stood there upon the grass, garbed in a marvelous tuxedo, a smile upon his lips but a truly fierce look in his eyes.

"Who...who...?" she stammered, not recognizing him at first. 

"She is MINE!" the robed one snapped.

"So it would...appear," the man in the tux replied levelly, coming forward, standing near her.  He looked down at her, his eyes filled with galaxies, with wings, with things for which there are no names. 

"No matter...what," he said, "without boundary...without end." 

He rested a palm on her head and she felt a strange awareness of every cell in her being and that each of them was being filled with some great charge of positive light that changed their very molecular structure.  It was then she noticed the white satin of his shirt was stained with blood and she knew him for who he was. Her hand reached out, fingertips touching the large, red stain. Then, turning her palm, she looked at it, looked at his blood upon her flesh.

"NOOO!" cried the golden-robed man.

She moved, turning toward him, holding out her hand between them. "Yes," she said.

His face a mask of rage, he pointed at her knapsack. "What of THAT?" he shouted.

The other man bent and in one smooth motion, lifted it off her back, dropped it on the ground and placed his foot on it. It disappeared.

"Knapsack?" he smiled. "Was there a knapsack?" 

His eyes turning suddenly lion-like, he said sternly, "Now...GO!" 

Taking hold of her arms, he lifted her to her feet. Pulling the lily from her hair, he crushed it in his hand, though he never once took his eyes off hers. A smile grew and grew upon his lips even as tears of joy welled in his eyes.

"Oh," he said, nodding slightly, "HOW I love you!" 

"Why?" she said, "Why would you love me?"

"It is why you were made," he replied.

"Why I was made?"

"Yes," he continued, "for me to love...to...to...be loved."

He looked at her seriously then. "Do you think you love me?" 

A great light shone in her eyes as she answered. "No." Then she threw her arms about him and cried loudly, "I KNOW I love you!"

Sweeping her lightly up in his arms, he walked swiftly over a long rise, coming out at the entrance to the country club.

"Here?" she said, puzzled, when she saw where they were. "But we...began... here."

He smiled. "It is when we return to where we had our beginning that we know where we are."

"But," she protested, "I...I can't go in THERE!"

He had by then carried her up the stone steps and had stopped just outside the great, carved entranceway.

"Look," she pointed out, "there is a security pad. You see, I can't go inside. You have to have an approved fingerprint to gain entry." 

"Try," he said, turning her so her hand could easily reach the pad.

"No," she cried, "it won't work...it can't possibly work!" She buried her face in his neck, ashamed.

"Try," he repeated.

Hesitatingly, she reached out her right forefinger, but kept it hovering just above the pad.

"Try," he urged again.

Reluctantly, she pressed it firmly on the pad, her teeth clenched down on her lower lip. As though it had been a mere hologram, the huge door simply melted away, leaving a wide open entryway.

"How...?" she marveled.

"Look at your hand," he said simply.

She did and saw that her fingerprint was covered in his blood.

"My God," she said, looking at it, stunned.

"Yes," he murmured.  

Still carrying her in his arms, he stepped over the threshold and into the enormous room, all oak-paneled and with candled chandeliers everywhere. A table was set, close to a large bay window that overlooked the gardens. He walked to it and stood her gently on her feet. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the magnificent dinner that was spread upon the table.

"For...me?" she whispered.

"For us," he said. "It was all prepared but could not be eaten alone...so I went outside to wait. I knew you were coming down the lane."

As she remembered that night, she suddenly recalled how she was dressed, how out of place she was in this glorious hall. She clutched the front of her dress with both hands,shamed by her appearance.

"Look," he said, knowing.

Tremblingly, she let her eyes gaze down her front. All her dirt, all her grime, were gone. She was not only clean, she was spotless, and her dress fell in soft white folds to the floor.

"My God!" she said, amazed.

"Yes," he replied, smiling, "yes."

Alistair's voice stopped, and he simply sat there, gazing into Ahnna's eyes. He had taken her on a journey with
him without ever leaving the bench. Something deep inside her, hard and sharp, began to fuzz around its edges.
"Y...yes?" she repeated.

"Yes, Ahnna," he smiled, reaching out to run a fingertip down her cheek.

"Do...do you think you could...hold me...for a little while?"

He circled his arms around her and she rested her head against his neck. In a few moments a cheer went up from inside the house.

"I think the New Year has begun," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

She moved enough to lift her face, looking up at his. "Yes," she murmured, the single word filled with meaning, and ever so softly, he leaned, kissing her lips.