Walk With Me (17 page)

Peter and Celeste stayed at the hut for several days, singing to the King with the other travelers, enjoying the banquet feasts, and taking walks around the grove. One night Encouragement gathered all the traveling partners around the fire and instructed them from the guidebook.

“Remember that we are to bear each other’s burdens. This means you can’t ignore the wounds of your partner and still please the King. Some of you might be tempted to boast about how much you love the King. I’ve seen your looks of devotion as you sing the King’s songs. I don’t doubt your sincerity, but remember that loving the King is only one side of the coin. Turn it over and you will see that loving the King brings love for people. The two aren’t to be separated. So if you are not loving your partner, you are not loving the King. If your partner says she needs to stop and take care of a problem, stop. Don’t tell her it’s not a problem just because you don’t think it is. Together you make one whole traveling
body and if part of the whole is hurting, the entire partnership is hurting.

“Share your struggles and your disappointments with your partner,” Encouragement said. “Be honest with each other, be vulnerable. I know some of you find this difficult. If you do, don’t be ashamed to ask for help. There is a guide at the Warming Hut of Revelation who can give you lessons.”

Peter whispered to Celeste, “I’m sure there are other things a guide could help us with, like having a good stride.” He didn’t enjoy sharing his struggles with Celeste, and sometimes when she talked, he felt he would be suffocated by all her words.

“But you have a wonderful stride,” Celeste said. “Other travelers always compliment you on it.”

“You can always learn to have a better one,” Peter replied, because like most people he preferred to strengthen his strengths and ignore his weaknesses.

Then Encouragement took out an hourglass of today. “I believe all partners are given one of these at the start. But after awhile, it is easy to forget how important it is to spend time alone together. While you are here, take the opportunity to get away by yourselves, especially if you have little travelers.”

Celeste wasn’t sure about that. As much as she had enjoyed the moon of honey, she didn’t want to leave their little traveler behind, even for a short time. But another couple volunteered to watch the little traveler for them. The woman encouraged Celeste to go, saying she had learned it wasn’t good to spend all her time with the little traveler and ignore her partner.

Peter and Celeste felt strange to be alone without the little
traveler to distract them. But as they ate together by candlelight and explored the meadow paths during the day, the pleasure of being partners together returned. Celeste got up early with Peter to look at the sunrise, and Peter gathered an armful of flowers for Celeste. Peter took out their basket of remembrance so he could add a few stones. Celeste put in a bit of the raft that had taken them across Submission Pond. They drank often from the chalice, but it seemed richer and more satisfying than when they drank under the moon of honey.

“Who would have thought when we first drank from the chalice that it could be better?” Peter said.

“But what did we know of love then? Making our way through the Swamp of Selfishness, I have come to know you better than ever.”

Peter laughed. “Better than you ever wanted, I expect.”

One day when they were out walking, they followed a higher path that took them to an overlook. For the first time in a very long time they saw the King’s City, beyond the Mountains of Maturity. As they watched, a great thunderstorm moved over the land and when it was over, a perfect rainbow curved over the mountains with a brilliant arc of purple and pink and yellow and green and blue.

“Oh look,” Celeste said. “Do you see where the rainbow ends in that open area?”

She pointed to a broad alpine meadow that seemed to stretch like a long green wave all the way to the King’s City.

“The Highlands,” Peter said in awe.

“It looks like the most wonderful place. I do hope we get there.”

“We will,” Peter said. “We will.”

“I am so glad we came up this path.” Celeste picked up a small pine cone to put in their basket of remembrance. “I will never forget seeing the rainbow.” For the rest of their time away, they took the high path every morning so they could spend the day gazing on the Highlands and the King’s City beyond. On their last night they fell asleep by the fire with Celeste murmuring, “The Highlands, the Highlands.”

The vision of the Highlands renewed Peter and Celeste as they continued their journey. Over time, two more little travelers joined them, each bringing much joy. But with three little travelers to care for, Peter had to work much harder to find food for them all. Celeste was kept busy with all the dirty clothes; no sooner had she cleaned one shirt, than two more were dirty. The little travelers seemed to take turns being fussy, which made Peter and Celeste irritable. They barely had time to linger along the meadow paths or drink from the chalice, so one of the best things about being partners became just another routine. On occasion, the forest broke open and they would glimpse the King’s City or the Highlands. But when one of them pointed it out, the other was always too tired to be enthusiastic and simply said, “Yes, I see,” or “Well, what do you want me to do about it?”

In my dream, I saw that the refreshment they had received at the gathering hut faded. When they managed to stop at other gathering huts along the way, they were so distracted making sure the little travelers sat still, they hardly heard anything the guide
said. Soon Peter and Celeste were arguing constantly: about what paths they should take, what kind of food was best for the little travelers, what kind of clothes they should wear. Though they had often read in the guidebook that the Servant’s love was not rude or easily angered, Peter and Celeste were no longer trying to imitate the Servant. They assured themselves that they were on the King’s path, going to the King’s City—and that would be enough. It was too hard with the little travelers to walk as the Servant had.

One day Peter decided he wanted to reach a certain cave before sundown so he would have enough time to explore it. He set off with a brisk pace, and Celeste lagged behind with the little travelers, who whined for two solid hours. Even if Celeste had wanted to stop and set up camp, she couldn’t because Peter was carrying all the provisions. Then one of the little travelers developed a painful blister, and Celeste had to carry the little traveler the rest of the way.

By the time she and the little travelers finally arrived at the cave, the sun had set. Peter was glad to see them. “This is the best cave we’ve ever been to. I’ve had a grand time discovering all the nooks and crannies. I can’t wait to show the little travelers everything.” But the little travelers were too tired and refused to go off with him. Peter said he would go by himself then. As he did, he secretly blamed Celeste. He was sure she had been complaining all day, and that was why the little travelers had become so cranky.

While Peter was off exploring the cave a second time, Celeste made a fire and cooked supper and set up the beds. By the time Peter got back, it was quite late. When he saw Celeste asleep by
the small fire she had made, he grumbled to himself. After all these years of travel, it was ridiculous that she still didn’t know how to make a better fire, especially when there was plenty of wood lying around the cave that she could have collected. He went to bed angry, providing the deceiver a foothold.

In the morning he woke up as the first light came into the cave and went off, eager to investigate a few more sections in the deeper regions before it was time to leave.

Soon after, Celeste woke up, stiff from carrying the little traveler the previous day. The first thing she noticed was that Peter’s bedroll was still spread out. He had not been considerate enough to fold it up. Then she saw that he also hadn’t bothered to collect wood for the breakfast fire. She became very annoyed. After feeding the little travelers, she waited for Peter to help take down the camp. By mid-morning he had not returned, and she packed up as best she could. She thought how unfair it was that Peter was always urging them to go faster and farther—but when he found something he wanted to do, they had to wait for him.

Peter finally got back just before noon. Though it would have been easier to eat lunch in the cave, he said they couldn’t waste any more time. They had to leave right away to get to the next campsite, so they would have to eat their sandwiches as they walked.

Along the way they passed another traveling family with six little travelers following in a neat line, not a speck of dirt to be seen on them.

“Celeste, did you see that family?” Peter said. “They’re proof that it is possible to keep little travelers clean, if only you would take the time to wash them.”

“I do my best,” Celeste said.

“Well, obviously you could do better.”

“Why do you always criticize me, and in front of the little travelers too?” she said, raising her voice.

“Why can’t you take a little correction?”

When they reached the next campsite late that night, Celeste discovered she had left their best cooking pot at the cave.

“How could you have forgotten the pot?” Peter said. “There weren’t any bushes for it to hide behind. It was a simple case of looking around to make sure you had everything. Are you that blind? I just don’t understand why you can’t be more careful about our supplies. How many times do I have to tell you that we aren’t rich like other travelers?”

“There you go again!” Celeste shouted. “Why do you always blame me and say it’s my fault?”

“Because it is.” Peter kept his voice calm. “I’m not the one dancing up and down like a mad bee. I can control myself.”

“Oh!” Celeste said, sparks coming out of her eyes. “You march on ahead, you refuse to spend any time with me, you won’t discuss anything, and then at the end you say it’s
my
problem?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Peter said. “I am beginning to think that my mother was right all along. She warned me I was making a mistake because you would always be hot-tempered and emotional.”

“Then why don’t you go back to your mother?”

“I would like to,” Peter said with his teeth clenched, “but I can’t. I made a vow.”

“A vow? You mean a vow to be insensitive to your wife? Or
a vow to appear righteous on the outside, but inside be full of hate?”

They were so caught up in their argument, they didn’t hear the earth grinding under their feet—or the big groan as it slowly pulled apart. In the distance, a few trees crashed to the ground.

“If you would just work a little harder to keep the travelers clean,” Peter yelled, “everything would be fine!”

“It’s fine for you to stand there like you are some saint, but you aren’t!” Celeste shrieked. “You say you love the King, but you are the most self-absorbed person I have ever met. Even my father cares more for people when he’s drunk than you do when you’re stone cold sober!”

“You really must control yourself,” Peter said. Angry steam began to rise from the ground.

“Control myself!” Celeste shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Yes, like I do.”

“I would never, ever want to be like you. You’re inhuman. You can’t feel
anything
!”

At that moment, a volcano erupted into the night sky ahead of them. A bright orange plume of lava shot up in front of them, spewing fiery sparks.

“This is great, just like fireworks,” one of the little travelers said, jumping up and down. But Celeste and Peter went on fighting.

“Just admit you’re wrong,” Peter said. “Why don’t you just say, ‘I’m sorry I forgot the pot.’ I’d love to hear you say that. Could you? Could you say that, Celeste?”

Somewhere in the forest, a clump of lava fell on a patch of dry pine needles. In an instant, a fire began to rage through the area,
devouring everything in its path. Flaming lava continued to spout from the earth. Billows of smoke filled the air, and the little travelers began to break into violent coughing fits. But neither Peter or Celeste noticed.

“Not until you apologize for the way you ignored us all day yesterday and half of today.”

“You deliberately went slow so you’d have something to complain about.”

“How dare you say that!”

A wave of lava that had bubbled over the side of the volcano surged across the forest toward the family. Celeste suddenly realized they were in danger. She quickly put on her pack, grabbed the three little travelers by their hands, and started to run. “I will never, never, I mean
never
speak to that man again! He is a beast, a monster; he doesn’t care about me, and he never has!”

“What man?” asked one of the little travelers, who looked behind to see if a monster was following.

“Never mind,” Celeste said.

At first Peter was too stubborn to follow after Celeste and the little travelers. He thought she was overreacting as usual. But soon his feet became so hot that the soles of his shoes started to melt. Not wanting to ruin a perfectly good pair, he reached for his pack and began to sprint away from the lava and the fire.