Thirst No. 5 (28 page)

“What is that word, ‘gravity’?”

“It’s a word from another time. It’s the force that keeps you from floating off the ground.”

I laughed. “You’re teasing me. There is no such thing.”

He spoke in a serious voice. “This world is not the only world. Each star you see in the sky is like the sun, only so far away you see it as a tiny point of light. Around many of these stars circle worlds like this one.”

I shook my head at such a wild idea. “It’s hard to imagine.”

“One day deep inside your heart you’ll see millions of stars and know that what I tell you is true.”

“Maybe you can see stars inside. I don’t know about me.”

My doubts caused him to smile. “What I am, you will become. It is only a question of time.”

“The rabbis tell us to pray each day. But this . . . meditation. How is it different from prayer?”

“I’ll answer your question with a question. Let’s say that one day you are walking down the road and you happen to meet God. He’s in a human body and
you can talk to him. But he’s busy and can’t stay with you long. What would you do? Would you let him speak? Or would you do most of the talking?”

“I would let him speak,” I said.

“Why?”

“God is wise. He knows so much more than me. It would be a waste of time to try and tell him something.”

The Master nodded. “Life is like that short visit on the road. Prayer is for those who wish to talk to God. Meditation is for those who only want to listen to him.”

“That’s a beautiful story.”

“It’s called a parable. A story that teaches an important lesson.”

“Can I tell it to Thomas?”

“You will repeat it to many people in this life. When you teach them to meditate.”

I was surprised. “I have your permission to teach other people?”

“Meditate a few years. When you feel the time is right, then you may begin to teach.”

“What if I say the wrong thing?”

“As your meditation deepens, the right words will come to you.” He stopped. “Why the sudden long face?”

I hesitated. “It’s nothing you can help me with.”

“Tell me and we’ll see.”

“When you talk about the wonderful things I might see and do in the future, I have trouble believing it will happen. I’m not even sure I’ll get to meditate. My father has already chosen the man I am to marry. His name is James. He’s a good man, he works hard. My father says I have no choice in the matter, that I must obey him and marry James. He says James will take care of me and the children I’ll probably have.”

“Do you love James?”

“I hardly know him. We have only spoken twice. But I know he’s very religious, very strict. He’ll expect me to obey him and keep my mouth shut. I doubt he’ll let me meditate.”

“It sounds like a problem.”

“Oh, Master, it’s horrible! I don’t know what to do!”

“Say you could do anything you liked. What would you do?”

“Anything?”

“Anything at all. Say there was nothing to stop you.”

“Well, I love to paint. My father is a stonemason, and sometimes he lets me paint pictures on the walls he builds. But I would love to paint real pictures that
people can hang in their homes. And . . .” I stopped.

“Go on.”

“What I was going to say next is impossible.”

“Tell me and we’ll see how impossible it is.”

“My brother, Thomas, makes the most wonderful sculptures. He’s so good he’s been invited by a local businessman to travel to Rome.” I stopped and hung my head. “I want to go with him.”

“And paint in Rome?”

I looked up. “That’s my dream. To be a great artist in the greatest city in the world.”

“Then do it. Follow your dream.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand, my father would never let me go. I’m a girl, I’m only sixteen years old, I have no rights.”

“You and Thomas are close, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“He knows you want to go with him?”

“Yes. He’s like you. He says I should come with him.”

“Then go, Veronica. Go to Rome.”

“Disobey my father? I can’t. I mean, even if I tried, he’d stop me and beat me.”

“How did you come here tonight?”

“I walked.”

“Did you tell your father? Your mother?”

“I just told Thomas. He helped me climb out our window.”

“That’s how you’ll go to Rome. You’ll climb out the same window. Only when you leave for Rome, Thomas will go with you. It’s simple.”

I stared at the Master in shock. “You want me to break every rule I have ever been taught?”

“Why not? They’re silly rules.” He stopped and spoke in a serious voice. “You’ll never be truly happy unless you follow your heart. The joy you find in the world, the joy you find in meditation, both come from being courageous.”

I trembled. “I feel what you say is true. But I’m afraid.”

“I was afraid when I started to teach.”

“Really? You? I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true. I knew what I had to teach would anger a lot of people. This is a primitive world, Veronica. Angry people do crazy things.”

“Are you saying you could be killed?”

“We may both die at the hands of others. It may be soon, it may not be for many years. It doesn’t matter. What matters is what we do today—that we do what we feel is right.” He stopped. “Wherever you go, Veronica, I’ll be with you. Remember—you were born in this world to be a candle. To light up many hearts.”

His words stirred deep feelings inside me. But I had so many doubts, so many questions. When I went to speak, though, he motioned for me to be silent. He was through speaking. He was telling me I already knew what I needed to know.

I bowed to him and left.

• • •

I have just finished what Mr. Grey has translated of Veronica’s story when Seymour calls. He says they’re at the Mirage, top floor. Brutran has reserved a separate room for each of us. Mine is 1178. I can pick up my key at the front desk. He also says he’s figured out a way to punch through my memory block, if I’m interested.

I have time before Mr. Grey gets out of surgery. I decide to see what my old friend has come up with. During the taxi ride to the hotel, however, the small book haunts me. The Master did not sound anything like the historical Christ. I doubt the story was even about Jesus.

Yet all the tales surrounding the veil tie it to a young woman named Veronica, and the present-day custodian of the artifact, Sarah Goodwin, valued the book so much she went to the trouble to hide it in her bedroom wall. Clearly Sarah believes the story is genuine, and that the Master the young woman spoke to was the same man I saw in the veil.

It is all very confusing.

Still, I enjoyed Veronica, her spunky attitude, and several of the
Master’s lines touched me deeply. I find it interesting that the Master taught Veronica the ancient Vedic form of meditation known as
Vichara
—a Sanskrit term that means “meditation on the Self.” That is the Self with a capital
S
—the Supreme Self, or the Brahman.

A close reading of the Bhagavad Gita shows that Krishna taught a similar practice. Ironically, Krishna said in the Gita that the technique was difficult for the average person to master, that the constant repetition of his name was an easier path to realization. Having lived in India, I know the majority of yogis consider
Vichara
a waste of time unless one has been blessed by God. Of course, Veronica, in her own innocent way, made it clear she felt blessed by her Master.

On a lighter note, Veronica’s Master was definitely ahead of his time. Equal rights for men and women? Follow your dreams? If he was indeed Jesus Christ then it was no wonder they crucified him. Also, his remarks about gravity and the true nature of the stars—it is like the man was not just enlightened, he came from an advanced civilization.

The book raises more questions than it answers.

It is frustrating not knowing how it ends.

I go to Matt’s room first. I don’t need supernatural hearing to know he’s playing the game on the other side of the door. I knock and he calls for me to come in.

Matt sits on the center of a king-size bed in a hotel robe. He has recently showered; his long dark hair is still wet. He doesn’t
bother to look up as I enter. I let the door close at my back.

“How’s Mr. Grey?” he asks.

“So-so. He’s in surgery. His temporal lobe’s bleeding and his brain has swelled. He’ll be lucky to make a full recovery.”

“Is he in good hands?”

I come over and sit on the bed. “I think so. The surgeon’s name is Dr. Tower. He has an excellent reputation. I liked him. He’s optimistic.”

“Good,” Matt says.

“Are you still mad?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Liar.”

Matt shrugs. “Honestly, Sita, I couldn’t care less what happened today. My problems with you are much older.”

I groan. “Please, Matt, let’s not rewind the Teri tape. We’ve talked it to death, and the truth is we were both responsible for her death. We both made mistakes. I should never have contacted her. You should never have contacted her. I should never have changed her into a vampire when she was dying. And you should never have killed me for making her a vampire.”

“I wasn’t myself when I shot you,” Matt says.

“I wasn’t myself when I slept with you.”

“Now who’s the liar? You knew exactly who you were. You just happened to be in Teri’s body.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you while we were screwing.”

Matt shocks me by raising his arm to strike me. He takes it a step further, swinging his fist toward my face. His speed is blinding—I’m not given a chance to duck. All I can do is brace for the blow. I know his strength. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t break my jaw and send half my teeth clattering across the floor.

But at the last instant he stops himself. His fist makes contact with my cheek but that’s it. Drawing in a deep breath, he withdraws his hand and sits back down on the bed. He moved so fast I didn’t even realize that he had stood.

“Sorry,” he mutters. He picks up his laptop and—it’s hard to believe—returns to playing the game.

“I’ve never seen you hit a woman before,” I say.

“You’ve seen me kill a few.”

“Those were Telar females. They don’t count.”

He nods, but it’s clear he’s hardly listening.

“What’s gotten into you?” I demand.

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure? Or is it possible that what John said is true? That the game is dangerous.”

“It’s not dangerous.”

“I disagree. It’s pushed you over the edge.”

Matt stops playing and stares off into the distance for several seconds, before finally closing his laptop and looking at me.

“I’m not angry with you about Teri. Not tonight,” he says.

“Well, that’s a relief.” When he doesn’t respond, I add, “Pray tell what I’ve done to upset you this time.”

His response staggers me. The casual way he says it.

“Do you know how close my mother came to killing you?”

I stand from the bed. “That’s a lie! Umara showed me nothing but love and support.”

“That was after you met her. But before that, when my father was still alive, she often talked about killing you.”

“Bullshit. Umara was too mature to be jealous of me and Yaksha.”

“It was never a question of jealousy. Her view was practical. She knew of the vow my father had made to Krishna. To destroy all the vampires before he left this world. She knew who the last vampire was, and why my father hesitated to kill you.” Matt pauses. “For many years, for more than you can imagine, my mother wanted to ease his torment by getting rid of you.”

I tremble. He’s telling the truth. “And you? Did you feel the same way?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t either of you pay me a visit?”

“My father forbade it.”

“Good for Yaksha,” I say.

Matt’s expression darkens. “Don’t taunt me, Sita. Not now, not when it comes to my father. It’s because of you we never saw him again. When he went to kill you, he didn’t go to die.”

“You’re wrong. I spoke to him. He was tired of life. He
wanted it to be over. He told me. Those were his words.”

Matt throws his feet over the side of the bed and stands. His old habit returns; he begins to pace. “He wanted to die
after
he said good-bye to us.
After
we got a chance to say good-bye to him. You made that impossible.”

“I protected myself. I had a right.”

“Yeah, you had a right. Just like a black widow has a right to kill its mate after luring it into its web.”

“That’s not fair. I tried to kill him, yes, he was trying to kill me. But I never tried to seduce him.”