Walk With Me (19 page)

In my dream, I hoped that this would be a fairy tale—and that before long all would be well with Peter and Celeste. They pushed across the plains, and although they had moments of happiness, most of the time they plodded on, silent and dejected. Celeste was sure that Peter didn’t love her anymore; he never listened to her, asked her questions, or shared what he was thinking. To comfort herself, she would take out her postcards and imagine living in one of them. The cards became blotted with tears. But she refused to give up her desire for romance, and she judged everything Peter did against the scenes in her postcards, which made his faults appear even more vivid.

From time to time, Peter would carry Celeste’s pack and gather the firewood, the water, and the food. But when he did, he felt resentful. He thought back to the early days of his journey and his worry that walking to the King’s City would be more difficult with a partner. His fears had now come true. Traveling with Celeste made the way much harder. Once Celeste asked him what was wrong with him, and he said nothing was wrong with him. It wasn’t his problem—Celeste was the one who needed to change. Until she did, he had no choice but to keep on doing his duty.

One day while Peter was out looking for food, he came upon a traveler sitting by the path, with a grimy chalice hanging from his belt and a five-foot stack of postcards beside him.

“Would you like some pictures?” the man asked. “I have a whole collection of thrilling pictures—ones with men and women drinking from the chalice—and some real spicy ones just of stunning women. Here, do you see how this Eve tilts her head back as she drinks, and look at that drop of liquid on her lips.”

“It’s not good to look at those cards on the way to the King’s City,” Peter said. But in the bottom of his pack were a few postcards he had picked up when he was looking for a partner. He had never gotten around to throwing them away.

“I’m a traveler too,” the man said. “I’ll admit that before I met my partner, I had a problem looking at these cards. But now that we’re together, what harm is there?”

“Doesn’t it make you thirsty?”

“Sure—isn’t that the whole point of looking?”

“Then what do you do?”

“Since I’m taking the Servant’s path, I would never go to one of those chalice cabins to drink with a stranger. I only look at the cards by myself. That’s all.”

“What about your partner?”

“Well, she’s nice and all, but she isn’t like these women. Take a look at this beauty. Have you ever seen such a long neck? If I found a woman like this to walk with me, I’d be tempted to change partners. Imagine the drinks we’d have from the chalice.” He wiped his sleeve to catch the saliva dripping from his mouth.

“But surely you drink from the chalice with your partner?”

“Yes, but it’s nothing like this. It cheers me to think what it might be like.”

“How can that be good?”

“Good? Good has nothing to do with it. We’re men, aren’t we? We get thirsty and we have to do something about it. If we don’t want to drink with strangers, this is the only thing we can do.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to learn to enjoy drinking from the chalice with your partner?”

“No, I’m sure she doesn’t want to. Besides, she spends a lot of time looking at her own postcards.”

“She has those cards, the ones with romantic scenes?”

“Yes. Your partner does too?”

Peter nodded.

“Worst invention ever if you ask me. The King should ban them. All those cards do is make her mushy and want to go for a walk holding hands. Holding hands! That’s not going to get the chalice filled. I say it’s better to look at these pictures.” The man went back to admiring the women on his postcards.

That night, for the first time since he had joined with Celeste, Peter took out his old postcards and looked at them. They stirred his thirst as much as they had before he married Celeste. He wondered if looking at them would help when he and Celeste drank together from the chalice. He would look at them for only ten minutes once a week. There wouldn’t be any harm in that. After all, he didn’t have a five-foot stack—just enough to fit into an envelope.

So Peter began to look at his postcards as he walked across the plains searching for food. He looked at them more often than he
had promised but he justified it, thinking that since he had to be away from Celeste, he needed something to pass the time. Soon he was looking at the postcards every day, and collecting more cards that he found along the way. Then he began to look at them late at night back at the camp when Celeste and the little travelers were asleep. The cards didn’t really satisfy him, and they made him even more dissatisfied with Celeste. But he couldn’t seem to help it. And in my dream, I saw this was not a fairy tale, but the long, hard road of life.

A
fter walking such a long time on the Plains of Distance, Peter and Celeste were relieved when they came to a wide river that flowed from the Mountains of Maturity. It turned the plains into a wild grassland and at a small rise, they could see that the grassland soon turned into a thick, forested wilderness that extended far into the distance. It looked like food would be plentiful, but the path was small and rugged, no more than a scar that slashed through the rough country. The thought of going through it discouraged them. Not only did they still have their heavy burdens and the three little travelers, they also had new unhealed wounds which would make hiking difficult.

South of the rise a broad path descended gently into a thriving green valley. In the middle of the valley stood a grand orchard with rows and rows of all kinds of trees that were pleasing to the
eye and good for food. Beyond the orchard were squares of neatly farmed fields of vegetables and lines of fruit vines. Blessing and abundance were the staples of the land.

When Celeste saw this, she was ready to go down into the Orchard of Earthly Delights. But Peter hesitated. “Something doesn’t seem quite right about it.”

“What do you mean?” Celeste said. “This is the most beautiful place we’ve seen on our journey. And look at all those travelers down there.”

“I can’t put it into words,” Peter said. “Maybe it looks too perfect.”

Celeste became annoyed. “Of course. You don’t mind walking along the ridge into the wilderness; you go off and leave me with the little travelers all day while you gather food. But if you were the one staying with the little travelers, you’d want to go down to the valley and take it easy for a bit.”

“What if it takes us off the path to the King’s City?”

“Look how well-watered and well-ordered and clean the orchard is. It must have been created by the King—and how can anything the King created be bad? Besides, we can always come back up and rejoin the path.”

Celeste was right that the King had created everything that grew in the Orchard of Earthly Delights. Generations of travelers had come to settle there. They cultivated the fields and fruit trees and made it into a comfortable, prosperous place—without the tainted ruin of Slouching City or the stiff dryness of Upright Village.

However, as Peter suspected, something wasn’t quite right.
The splendid pleasures of the orchard were meant to be only a foretaste of what awaited the travelers in the King’s City. Yet once travelers experienced all the good things the orchard had to offer, they became satisfied with the earthly bounty and often decided to give up their journey and settle down in the orchard. Over time, the path through the orchard to the King’s City had become blocked by the trees and fields. The only way out of the orchard, besides the wilderness path, led directly back to Slouching City.

Peter took one more look at the wilderness that lay ahead of them and thought how hard it would be to travel on the demanding path with Celeste complaining every step of the way. Then he contemplated the peaceful beauty of the Orchard of Earthly Delights. “I think we deserve a rest,” he said.

As they went down into the valley and entered into the orchard, they marveled at the variety and wealth around them. The best of the King’s creation had been collected into one marvelous place. There were fruit trees: apple and pear and cherry and plum and apricot and orange and lemon, and nut trees: almond and pecan and hazelnut and coconut. They saw grapevines and strawberry patches and blueberry bushes and raspberry bushes, as well as fields of wheat and corn and beans and tomatoes and cucumbers and peppers. There were cows that gave creamy milk and hens that laid rich eggs.

The little travelers could play all day, sliding down shallow waterfalls into splashing pools, and jumping into soft sand pits.

There were lakes with pleasure boats and shaded rivers to canoe through, and small woods with paths that made travelers feel like they were still walking to the King’s City. In their free
time, travelers could enjoy flower gardens filled with fragrant rainbows of lilies and hyacinths and irises and peonies.

There were also improvements that had been invented by the travelers themselves. Craftsmen had learned to make vibrantly dyed fabric. The furniture was carved with intricate designs, and there were colorful stained-glass windows. There were schools where little travelers could learn, and museums and concerts and plays to attend. If a traveler fell ill, doctors could cure almost any disease. But all of these advanced benefits were not cheap. Travelers who settled in the orchard eventually needed to stake out a larger claim to pay for the style of life they wanted.

The orchard covered most of the valley, and it took Peter and Celeste a long time to explore all the delights. They were happy to see that the King had not been forgotten, for many who lived in the orchard met at the gathering huts and read the guidebook. In fact, two leaders, Indulgent and Smooth Talk, were organizing people to build the biggest gathering hut in all the King’s country.

But like the residents at Pigeon Hole, travelers here paid little attention to instructions in the guidebook that made them feel uncomfortable. In the lanes, one could often see a traveler in a new hat and coat greet a poor traveler who wore old, worn clothes and lacked enough food for his family. “Wear the King’s garments of praise and feed on His will,” the well-off traveler would say, without considering that he could give one of his extra coats and bags of food. Many travelers built large houses so they could store everything they gained, for they had forgotten that when the King called them home to His city, they would have to leave everything behind.