Manifesting the Grail

“Well, it looks like you are definitely not pregnant.” The attending physician said.

“What?” Chelsea replied astonished.

“You are not pregnant.” The doctor repeated.

“How can that be?” Chelsea asked as she became uncharacteristically emotional.

“Your various hormonal levels are such that you are not with child. What typically happens with women that are under unusually stressful situations---life changes, traumatic events and such, they may enter a phase of perimenopause. This can be treated with effective hormone therapies---“

“I’m not menopausal. I’m only twenty- seven.” She said growing ever more upset.

“Don’t misunderstand, Miss Barrett. I’m not saying that you are menopausal or even in perimenopause. What I’m saying is that incredible stress can bring on the symptoms. You’re just out of balance.” Doctor Whitcomb tried to calmly explain. But his words felt like needles and with each puncture Chelsea felt herself deflate even more.

“Were you…em, were you trying?” The doctor stumbled in his British tone.

“Trying?” Chelsea managed to say through her sobs.

“Trying to conceive.” He said softly.

“NO---no, no, no. It was an accident.” She said.

“Then perhaps you’re relieved to know that an unplanned pregnancy has been averted.” He said and he smiled as if his words had absolved and resolved the situation.

“Are you on birth control?” He asked as he took notes.

“Yeah. I’m on the pill.” She said.

“Perhaps when you return to the states you can see your regular gynecologist and have the doctor prescribe something that will evenly distribute your hormonal make-up.” He smiled condescendingly.

“You can’t do anything for me right now?” She asked. “I’m planning on being here for another three months. The fatigue is overwhelming. I need something so I can function and do my job.” She said.

“Do you have your birth control medication with you?” He asked. She flipped out the oval packet with the perfect circle of tablets. He eyed them and handed them back scribbling as he turned.

“You’re health care benefits don’t apply here in the U.K., you see.” He said and he looked pointedly at her.

“I see. It’s a cash only business.” Chelsea said cynically.

“Sterling.” He said in a chipper tone as he continued scribbling. “We’ll have to do a full blood work-up.”

“Can I come back?” She asked as she tried to strategize how she could pay for the new medication.

“Certainly.” He replied amiably as he reached into his white coat and produced a card.

“Just ring us up.” He said and smiled and then turned on his heel and left Chelsea alone to dress in the examination room. She sat there and a cascade of disappointment rolled over her. She could not understand why. The pregnancy had been an obstacle. But now that it had magically vanished she was experiencing loss. She could still taste Ashley on her lips and whatever soap she used mingled with her own scent stayed with Chelsea. She could smell Ashley in her hair. And somehow she thought if she wished hard enough that perhaps the pregnancy would have been the hinge that glued she and Ashley together. She fantasized that as a result of their lovemaking the child she would produce would be wholly theirs, not Scott’s. She imagined with poignant accuracy the visual characteristics that were hers and the ones that were genetically her partner’s. She had somehow subconsciously grown excited at the idea of this child being the perfect combination of Chelsea and Ashley. Intellectually she knew that it was a biological impossibility, but she could dream. And now her dreams were gone and she wondered if, perhaps, this is what it felt like to miscarry. As the tears subsided a wave of fatigue enveloped her and she wondered if Ashley had come back to the hotel to find her missing. She grabbed her phone and texted: “Couldn’t wait. I’m at the doctor’s. xo, C”

Ashley had just stepped back onto the elevator at the Savoy when her phone buzzed signifying that she had just gotten a text. She figured it was Felix so she’d check it later. Fumbling for the room key she exited on her floor carrying the coconut soup. As the door to the suite swung open she was met with silence.

“Chelsea?” She said in a regular tone. “Chelsea!”

There was no answer. It was odd and as she sat down she wondered if maybe Chelsea decided to meet with Scott again. The thought of it tore at her and she felt her stomach ache. Where could she have gone and why didn’t she call? She wondered. Then her mind began to meander to those scary places. What if she had a medical emergency? She wondered. She called the concierge from the room phone.

“Good Morning. How can I help you?” A friendly voice answered.

“Yes. I was wondering if there were any emergencies here on the top floor this morning?” Ashley asked.

“Emergencies?” The woman reiterated.

“Yes. My friend wasn’t feeling well and I’ve come back to the room to find her gone.” Ashley explained.

“There have been no emergencies here at the hotel. Perhaps, she made her way to a clinic.” The woman replied cheerfully.

“Yes---okay, thank you.” Ashley said and she hung up the phone. Just then Ashley recalled the text noise her cell had made. She quickly grabbed it from her purse just as the door to the room swung open. Chelsea stood there pale and about to unravel. Ashley froze.

“Are you okay?” Ashley asked not moving afraid that her world might collapse.

“No---yes…and no.” Chelsea said softly like a child as she shuffled over to one of the canopy beds. Ashley laid her phone down and waited. Chelsea sat down on the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the stone wall.

“I’m not pregnant.” She whispered deflated.

There was a part of Ashley that wanted to jump for joy but she could not. Somehow Chelsea’s emotions carried over and although intellectually she was glad that her friend would not be burdened with a child, she was also aware that a part of her wanted a child.

She sat down next to her and took her hand.

“I…I understand.” Ashley said and they sat there for some time in silence as the business of London drifted up off the streets and into their space.

“I dreamt it was…ours.” Chelsea said and she felt herself slowly submerge into tears.

“Oh, now. It’s okay. It’s all right. If you really want to have a child you can. You’re young enough and…” Ashley said trying to comfort her.

“No…I mean….really ours.” Chelsea said as she looked straight into Ashley’s eyes. Ashley understood completely.

“Well we can try.” Ashley chuckled hoping a little levity would help the situation. Just at that moment Chelsea’s eyes moved to Ashley’s hair. She wore a look of amazement.

“What?” Ashley asked. “What is it?”

“You’re gray.” She said still taking in her friend’s appearance.

“Yeah, I need to color my hair.”

“Don’t!” Chelsea said. “It’s more gray than I remember from last night even.”

Ashley got up and looked in the mirror and she was awestruck herself. The hair at her temples had turned color almost overnight. She was indeed gray and almost white.

“Wow.” She whispered as she pulled her hand through her mane.

“I like it.” Chelsea said smiling.

“Do you think it’s the Thai soup?” Ashley asked. Chelsea shrugged. She retrieved the sustenance encased in a plain white paper sack.

“I already had mine.” Ashley said. “I made an appointment to see Dame Chelsea Thornton this afternoon.”

“I think I might stay behind.” Chelsea said and her eyes were growing heavy. “I’m just so tired.”

“Sure. Sure. Take a nap and I’ll be back by eight and we’ll have a nice supper on the town.” Ashley replied.

Richard awoke with a start. He rubbed his eyes and found Victoria sitting at the end of the room at a small servant’s desk as the winter sunlight bathed her in an almost whitish glow.

“What are you doing, dear?” He said softly as he cleared the sleep from his voice.

“Making notes.” She said without lifting her head. “I must contact Stanford White about the house. Repairs should begin by mid-April for it to be habitable by the end of the summer.” She said and her forehead crinkled with determination. “We shall have to spend our anniversary elsewhere I’m afraid…Perhaps Paris?” She giggled.

Richard looked about and found that Mr. Watkins and Mrs. Hopkins had already dressed and begun the day.

“They’re at breakfast, dear.” Victoria said and she finally looked up and smiled at him.

“I was waiting for you.” And her words cascaded over him like a memory from the future. It echoed and resounded with potent meaning and revelation. He sat down in a small cane chair next to her. She ran her fingers tenderly through his hair and she gazed at his temples.

“So distinguished.” She whispered and she smiled revealing a part of herself that Richard had not fully seen before.

“You’ve been through so much.” She said almost to herself but trying to explain the increase of white in his hair. But Richard was well aware why his hair was turning gray so fast. It was not stress or trauma or fear, but rather knowing. She gazed down at his hands and noticed the orange thread wrapped about his index finger. She pulled at it and he seemed protective.

“Saving threads from my scarf?” She said lightly.

“Yes.” He replied leaving no explanation.

“Whatever for?” She asked.

“So I won’t forget.” He said teasingly.

“What is it that you might forget, dear?” She replied inquisitively.

“What you’ll look like in one hundred and twenty two years.” He replied enigmatically. She laughed but there was something very real to his words and she knew deep down that he was telling the truth. She gazed out of the window over the white landscape and the river in the distance. The way the light reflected off her porcelain skin reminded Richard of the halos that the renaissance masters used to paint in a bygone era.

“We’re finally going home.” She said in a dreamy tone as if they had been away for years.

“Yes, we’re going home.” He said and he kissed her tenderly.

Ashley parked her rented Vespa and quickly walked into the Assisted living residence where Dame Chelsea Thornton lived. As she moved to the circular ‘concierge’ in the lobby she noticed that Delilah was sitting there.

“Delilah, would you please let Dame Thornton know that I am here for my appointment.” She said sweetly without ever looking her in the eyes.

Delilah hissed, got up and disappeared for a moment. Ashley took in the grand hall that was the foyer. Various etchings and engravings lined the dark oak walls. It seemed more in keeping with an exclusive Victorian men’s club than a contemporary home for the aged. Suddenly a young nurse appeared. She was not dressed the requisite white or green scrubs. Her attire was for a formal dinner. The only clue that she was a nurse was her name tag.

“Maggie Cummings.” She said as she stretched out her hand warmly. “Dame Thornton is very excited to see you…Right this way.” They walked down the elegant hallway that Ashley had remembered the night before but turned right into a large sunroom. Dame Chelsea was sitting in a wheelchair next to the window reading the London Times.

“Ah, my protege! Maggie you are a dear. Thank you.” The Dame said warmly. Maggie smiled and petted her hand.

“If you need anything just ring.” Maggie said as she smiled at Ashley and vanished leaving them to their private conversation.

“You’ve seen him.” The Dame said and she patted the chair next to her signifying Ashley to sit.

“Him.” Ashley reiterated unsure whether or not to speak of the experience.

“Grandfather.” The dame said. Ashley slowly nodded as she sat.

“I knew it.” And her eyes took in Ashley’s graying hair. “Soon there will be no demarcation.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Ashley said confused.

“You seek the grail.” The Dame smiled.

“Actually I came to talk to you about learning the Rhys paintings.” Ashley said.

“I gave you the order. The rest falls upon you, dear.” She replied.

“Yes, I know. But for me to stay in London for the required length of time I was wondering if it might be all right for Chelsea and I to stay at the Hyde Park residence?”

“Why certainly. I suggested it last night. I don’t know why you’re staying in that old hotel. I shall ring Mr. Wilkins and let him know to expect you this evening for dinner.” The Dame said and her smile was supple and young and her eyes bright as if she were twenty years old again.

“You realize you are everlasting, grandfather.” She continued. And the words gave Ashley pause. “You’ve met the one who holds.”

Again Ashley slowly nodded unsure of the words and yet quite sure of the meaning.

“The grail holds.” The Dame continued. Then she took Ashley’s hands in hers and gazed at her intently. A smile bloomed across her face.

“I want to come back, grandfather.” She said softly as if revealing the ultimate secret. “Will you visit me again?”

Ashley nodded yes.

“There is much to learn.” The Dame continued then she turned toward the window and the sunlight and closed her eyes. Ashley got up and placed the small blanket across the Dame’s lap and tiptoed out.

Approaching the Event Horizon

It was dark and damp and the wind blew fiercely as he tried to remain upright on the shifting slick deck.  He wrapped the orange thread tightly about his finger as the driving rain almost blinded him.  Lightning lit up the foreboding sky revealing the yawning portal of oblivion.  At that moment Richard had been slammed to the deck and nearly washed away into the depths of the Irish Sea but the wooden rail that lined the small fishing vessel acted like a strainer letting the water slip violently back to its source.  Grasping for some kind of foundation he reached out and folded his arms around the iron cleat as the deck swayed almost vertically out of the water.  He was almost airborne as the behemoth waves crashed again with such force that the decking buckled.  As the boat sunk down into a trough he heard voices yelling in the dark from another part of the vessel.  A small boy slid down the bowing deck still clasping a post that had come apart in the last crest.

“Malachy!” Richard screamed and he thrust out his arm to catch the child.

“Help!” The boy squealed amid the din of rain and pounding waves.  Richard caught the boy by his wrist before the sea swallowed him whole.  He hung onto the cleat with his other arm and though the water rushed over him with relentless fury, he did not let go. Once again the boat dove into another trough as the waves gathered strength.  Richard pulled the boy closer and wrapped his arm about his waist.

“They’re all gone.”  The boy yelled over the noise of the tempest.

“Who?” Richard replied.

“Everyone! Mum, Da, me brothers!” He screamed as the boat climbed another crest and the ominous height of the wave revealed the desperate fall within moments. As the water cascaded relentlessly over them, Richard mustered all the strength he could to hold on. 

“Let go!” The boy squealed as he coughed from taking in water.

“No!” Richard shouted as the water hit them like cold steel.

“Let me go!”  The boy cried and the weight of the water plucked him instantly from Richard’s grasp into the black watery expanse.

“Malachy! Malachy!” Richard screamed as he gasped for air. He realized at that moment that the boy was lost.  The boat pitched and broke in two and before Richard understood what was happening he was submerged in the vicious, freezing water.  Feeling his last ounce of breath leave him he bobbed to the surface just in time to take in air.  The lightning flashed across the horizon illuminating the last visible remnants of the boat. It disappeared quickly, the last vestiges of the mast swallowed whole as if it had never existed.  He remembered what his Da had once told him: Try and float and move with the tide.  Don’t struggle against it.  The sea always wins.  He let the waves take him and he felt as if he were riding on the wing of a giant bird.  He could feel the orange thread still tethered tightly to his finger and he thought maybe if he called Ansa she might help him.  He already called on her once before and so he was unsure if she would hear him a second time. He did not value his own life nearly as much as his wife’s.  So he closed his eyes and let the waves move beneath.  And there in the center of his vision was a glowing circle of green.  He opened his eyes for a moment only to find that it inhabited the center of his vision.  It took his breath away and yet gave him a sense of infinite peace.  At the center was a black circle that looked like the pupil of a human eye and the green shafts of shimmering light flickered like the iris of a man and yet it was beyond human.  Within the immeasurable heights of samhadi, the mystics call it the Eye of God.  He began to form the word in his mouth yet he felt no urgent need to call.  Ansa…Ansa was the handle.  She was the one constant thing to grab hold of and she was there.  As the sea crashed all about him, Richard felt as if he were floating just above the water.  And the eye that took him in with such great compassion and infinite love illuminated the night and the darkness.  He felt lulled into a calm almost hypnotic state.  There, at the edges of the green shafts of light defining the outer circle, was a thin almost imperceptible line that shown as fire, an orange glow electric with power.  And he realized that Malachy had not disappeared into the tempest. The boy he had let go of was Richard. He had released himself into the water.  He looked over at his hand floating on the surface of the black sea and the orange thread was gone.  He watched with rapt fascination as the eye before him dissolved and the thin orange line that defined the circle unfurled into a flat line that set itself on the horizon.  The rain stopped, the thunder had moved further away and the clouds revealed a tiny speck of clear sky providing the first light of dawn.  As the day broke and the amber light of beginning cast it’s glow he slowly opened his eyes to see Chelsea laying there beside him.  She was naked and yet covered by the rough blanket that the hotel had afforded them.  He rubbed his eyes in utter confusion and took in a deep breath and as his vision cleared and the light grew stronger through the windows of winter he could see his wife, his extraordinary, stunningly beautiful wife as she slept peacefully, the saffron scarf covering her shoulders.  There against the pillow he saw the bit of orange thread that had disappeared into the sea of dreams.  He rolled over onto his back and gazed at the window.  The stark white light of early March set the dingy yellowed window sills and walls ablaze with its sharpness.  The white and the blue and the orange thread all swam through Richard’s mind and he felt compelled to sketch his vision and perhaps, even to paint it.  Victoria remained in peaceful slumber.  Richard gently took the orange thread and once again wrapped it about his finger.  He was hungry but not so much for regular food.  He was famished for nourishment and so he closed his eyes and let his breath grow full and even.

 

 

The first light of the day crept in through the hotel windows bathing the canopy bed in a soft pinkish, amber glow.  Ashley could feel the warmth of her skin making contact with Chelsea’s.  She was breathless in her expression and they slid across each other in perfect rhythm.  Ashley felt herself submerged.  Every cell in her body shimmered.  She was in the perfect throws of ecstasy.  And as her body, mind and soul reached epiphany she could see her ‘beloved’.  There was no other word she could find to describe what Chelsea was to her.  Laying in her arms and taking in the hypnotic effect of closeness and breath and release she watched with awe as Chelsea turned and gazed at her at length with no words. Words would have cluttered the pristine place they found themselves in.  There was no sound except for their even breathing and the stillness of being.  Just beyond and outside the window Ashley could see the Eye.  It appeared in a kind of silhouette as the sun rose quickly over the Thames.  Something about the huge ferris wheel struck a chord.  There was a familiarity with it even though she had never been to London before.  Then her eye caught Chelsea and she watched with rapt attention as Chelsea let her hand glide over her naked belly.  It was a seemingly unconscious act that played out before her in slow motion.  The curve of Chelsea’s body in the early morning light and the way she regarded the life inside brought about an intense reverie.  At that moment Chelsea and Victoria were one.  And Ashley had the uncontrollable need to kiss that place and so she took Chelsea’s hand and moved to her belly and kissed the area where life becomes real.  This sweet small act of reverence took their breaths away.  The enormity of the moment was rife with all those things that are bigger than life itself and Ashley watched as tears began to form in Chelsea’s eyes.

“I remember.”  She said softly choking back tears.  Ashley was confused and overwhelmed and, perhaps, mystified.

“I ‘see’ you.” She said and she laughed through her tears.  She let her hands move across her belly and suddenly everything seemed exactly right.  All of her worries dropped away.  All of the daily cares and chores evaporated before this magnificent moment of bliss. It somehow made sense to Ashley even though she could not completely grasp the breadth of it all. 

“I have to stay.”  Ashley said as she nestled closer.

“What do you mean?” Chelsea asked still high from the moment.

“I have to stay and study the work.” Ashley replied.  Chelsea gazed up into the canopy and after a moment said, “Then I’m staying, too.”

Ashley smiled a huge Cheshire cat grin and it made them both laugh.

“I’ll…come up with a reason for staying longer.” Chelsea said nonchalant.  “There are plenty of artists and stories to write about here in old London town.”

“What do you fancy for breakfast?” Ashley asked in her faux London accent as Chelsea got up.  The sound of it sent Chelsea and she had to catch herself for a moment.

“Ask me again.” Chelsea said a bit unnerved.

“What?  What’s wrong?”  Ashley asked.

“Nothing.  I just had a very déjà vu moment.” Chelsea replied smiling.  Then Ashley playfully circled around her and embraced her from behind kissing her neck. 

“What do you fancy for breakfast?” She whispered in her London accent once again.  The sound of it nearly made Chelsea faint.  Ashley helped her back to the bed.

“That’s it.  We need to get something to eat and then we are going to the doctor.”  Ashley said as she started to dress.

“Where are you going?” Chelsea asked.

“To go to the Thai place to get you something that will stay down.”  Ashley replied.

“Why don’t we just order some eggs from room service.”  Chelsea said as she lay back down on the bed overcome with fatigue.

“You’re going to have to cancel your appointments today.”  Ashley said assertively.

Chelsea nodded.  Ashley made the sign for getting on the phone.

“Better do it now.”  She continued as she slipped her sandals on and made her way to the door.

 

Ashley lit out onto the Strand.  She kept the London Eye in her sights and realized she needed to walk in the direction away from it in order to find the ramshackle Thai restaurant.  She vaguely remembered she passed an old bar, Ye Olde Cock Tavern, on her maiden voyage.  There was something familiar about it, but she could not place the vague memory.  Perhaps, she had seen a picture of it somewhere.  It was historic after all.  As she walked she felt invigorated and fulfilled.  It was a crisp summer morning with only a few clouds in the sky.  She thought she had lucked out since London and rain were synonymous.  So far the weather had been great.  She kept the Eye in her peripheral vision and for a moment she felt as though she hovered slightly above the ground.  The Rhys paintings took over her thoughts and she made a mental note that she needed to visit Dame Chelsea Thornton again either later in the day or first thing the next morning.  Plans had changed and perhaps the Dame would arrange for them to stay at the Hyde Park residence.  With each step she thought how amazing that just a few days ago she was in New York living alone and hoping Chelsea might be the love of her life.  Now, in the course of 24 hours she went from feeling like a cuckold to experiencing the most life changing, unexpected, thrilling connection with another.  And though her life was only a third over she knew, somehow, that Chelsea would, indeed, be the absolute love of her life and many other lives. She walked passed Temple Church and a wave of sudden comprehension grabbed her.  She was exhilarated and even giddy.  The structure itself was comforting but not so much in an exoteric religious way, but rather in an esoteric numinous way.  Built in the 12^th century by the Knights Templar its round shape eluded to equality, perfection and the cycles of life.  And for the first time she could imagine herself married…married to a woman.  It had been so foreign to her until this poignant moment.  But she could see herself betrothed to this amazing, breathtaking woman.  The idea of it also brought great responsibility and for Ashley and Chelsea to survive and move about in the world as a couple they would have to demarcate a no-man’s land within their union.  It would be absolutely private and no one else would be included in that chalk circle of intimacy.  Even when the times might be rough or there were questions within the relationship, the boundary of ‘you and I’ would remain invincible to outside discrimination. 

She turned down Old Mitre Court and kept walking until she found herself in front of the Temple library.  She felt like she was entering the fabled holy of holies as she progressed further into the tightly packed neighborhood. She made a slight right down the cul-de-sac.  There, sandwiched in between rather modern looking buildings was the shack that was the Thai restaurant with the magical coconut soup.  The savory aroma wafted down King’s Bench Walk and she did not know how hungry she was until the spices and the scent of manna brought her ever closer to satiation.

“I waiting for you long time.”  The old woman said from the doorway waving her arm frantically.

“Come!  Come, you late.” She said as she disappeared inside.  Ashley had brought the piece of bright orange sari with her.  It was a nice accent to her shorts and summer top.  As she entered the place was packed with mid-morning customers.  There were a lot of Asian people this time and some East Indians all waiting to have their breakfast.  They were animated in their conversations and Ashley wondered what all the commotion was about.  One of the cook’s from the kitchen recognized Ashley and pointed down the long wooden corridor.  Ashley nodded and passed by more Asians crammed up against the wall and sitting at the tiny table sipping tea and eating ethnic food.  As Ashley moved across the threshold into the back room she could see the old woman talking with a man who had his back to her.  The old woman smiled and her eyes twinkled and she waved Ashley over to the table.  The man turned and as his eyes met hers she felt the ground suddenly vanish.  He was dressed in a black wool Victorian morning suit.  His eyes were penetrating and greenish brown.  His hair a thick dark mane of unruly chestnut.  He sported the requisite mustache and goatee that was the fashion of that era.  She knew him.  She knew him better than she knew herself.  He stood up never taking his eyes off of her.

“Richard Rhys.” He said and his voice was deep and smooth and she could hear her own voice imbedded in his.

“He having baby…just like you.” The old woman said and she laughed out loud. 

“Congratulations.” Richard said and he was as solid and lifelike as Ashley. 

“Thank you.” She replied a bit out of breath.

“Sit, sit, sit.” The old woman barked and Richard pulled a chair out for her and his etiquette was impeccable.  He was sexy and attractive and charming and if Ashley didn’t know any better she could have sworn she was being swept off her feet.

“He about to paint the paintings.” She continued.  Then she turned to Richard and said, “She about to study them.”

“Study what?” Richard said confused.

“I show you.”  The old woman said.  Then she took Richard’s hand and unwound the orange thread from his finger.  He smiled weakly.

“Helps me to remember.” He murmured.

Ansa placed one end at his fingers and the other in Ashley’s.  Suddenly Ashley could perceive the environment through his eyes.  If she closed them she could see exactly what he was seeing and feel everything he was feeling.  Even his private thoughts became hers.  Inside his mind she was aware that he was quickly recognizing himself in her.  He was referring back to “The Sleeper Wakes” and observing that the material goals in the story were not the ones he was seeking.  He was seeking union with the divine.  And so was she.  And part of that equation was Victoria.

“How is Victoria?” Ashley inquired and the question jarred Richard.  He regained his composure and Ashley was privy to his task of connecting the dots.

“She’s fine, thank you.” He said and his gaze pierced her to her core.  “You’re the one.” He said with delightful discovery.  “You’re the one that brought us food.  You saved her life.”

“Victoria found me.”  Ashley said softly.  “It was the polite thing to do.”

He reached over and placed his hand on her arm and to Ashley’s surprise his arm was embedded within hers.  Even though he was wearing a coat, the dark hair of his forearm manifested on her bare limb.  She was stunned and amazed and she could feel him touching her from within. The awareness was profound and mystical.

He was about to begin the most important artistic work of his life that would change and inspire others through the course of nine decades.  She was about to embark on an alchemical journey using his master paintings as a road map to transcendence.

“Eleben.” Ansa said softly.  Then she pointed to her own garment, Ashley’s scarf and the thread that Richard held.  They were all from the same piece of cloth and probably spun from the same plant. 

“Illumination.” She whispered.