“Indomitable,” murmured the waking Child. “Indomitable. Prophet said I’m indomitable.”
“Good morning, Child. What are you murmuring about?”
“Where are we?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because it’s still dark, and even though we’re on water, there’s no sunlight.”
“How do you know there’s no sunlight, Child?”
“Prophet, that’s easy. When I sleep on the ocean, the sun always wakes me up; unless, a storm is brewing.”
“Look around you, Child.”
The Child looked. She saw green foliage hanging onto the lily pad. A heart shaped opening lay a few feet before them with tall, thin trees springing up from the water, and above and around them were funny shaped rocks that had been hewn by the wind of time.
“The lily pad is in a cove,” The Child said.
“You need to rest.”
“But we were out on the ocean. How did we get to this cove?”
“Rest, Child. Stop trying to figure it out.”
“Prophet?”
“Yes, Child.”
“What is indomitable?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I woke up during the night, or at least I think I was and heard you call me your indomitable child.”
The Prophet laughed.
“Don’t laugh at me, Prophet!”
“I’m not laughing at you, Child.”
“Then, why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re indomitable.”
“But what does indomitable mean, Prophet?”
“I’ve made you some nice seaweed pancakes with fruit from the trees. Would you like to eat breakfast now?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what, Child?”
“What indomitable means?”
“Would you like to hear another story?”
“Should I stop being indomitable, Prophet?”
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s in you.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Tell me a story while I eat.”
“About what, Child?”
“About your indomitable child, of course,” The Child said, and The Prophet smiled.
Shalom,
Pat Garcia
