“So.”
The Prophet observed the Child, standing before him with balled fists, crinkled forehead, and fire in her eyes, her back stiff with tension.
“So what, Child?”
“So when?”
“So when what, Child?”
“You know what I mean?”
“Tell me.”
“So you can avoid it? No.”
“Okay.”
“So why, Prophet?”
“So why what, Child?”
“So what’s the plan when we pause?”
The Prophet chuckled. Their harbor for the next eleven months wasn’t far away, and The Child sensed it.
“You’re laughing at me again.”
“No, Child, I never laughed at you. I’m just amused at your indomitability that sometimes defeats your own denouement. “
“So does that mean I’m bad.”
“No.”
“So what?”
“So what what?”
“About my indomitability that defeats my own denouement.”
“Sometimes, Child. I said, sometimes.”
“So?”
“Look at Mr. Whale. What’s he doing?”
“Navigating while he swims beside the lily pad.”
“And Mr. Eagle?”
“Scouting while he flies above us.”
“Have they asked what happens when you pause?”
“Of course not, Prophet.” And The Child giggled. “They’re happy with me.”
“So what does that mean, Child?”
“They aren’t thinking about it.”
“And what else?”
“They’re taking a day at a time, maybe.”
“So why are you worried, Child?
“Prophet?”
“Yes, Child?”
“You think I’ll love such a long pause, Prophet?”
“Don’t think about it, Child.”
“Why not?”
“It hasn’t come yet.”
“So what should I do today?”
“Capture the sunrise and see it with your mind; watch the bud bloom on the lily pad; observe the flight of Mr. Eagle as he flies against the wind; ride Mr. Whale as he masters the water waves; collect these golden nuggets, Child, and put them in the treasure trove of your heart as you move into your future.”
Shalom,
Pat Garcia
