“So, did we go from one side to another in the tomb—in the tunnel you pulled us through—to get to Sanctuary?” said Elli.
“Yes, yes, precisely—one side of the tomb is opposite another side in Sanctuary!”
“But,” interjected Elli, “it seemed to take time, Aneht . . . Not a lot of time, but some time—maybe five minutes of time?”
“Well, of course, inside you it took time, for time is all about what is happening on the inside of you . . . inside time, not the outside!”
“Is that what Butterfly meant by time ‘being a subset of eternity,’” said Elli, who then quickly added, to leave conversation about Cannotoads for another time, “or, of no time at all?”
“Yes, yes . . . Well . . . I don’t know this Butterfly you’ve told me about, but whoever he is, this one Butterfly has it correct.”
“Aneht, how do you know all this? Understand it all?” said Beatríz.
“I don’t dear girl! I simply proclaim it!”
“Childheart once told me,” said Elli, “that you cannot believe what you don’t understand. If you do not understand all this, then you can’t believe it, can you? I mean, because you wouldn’t know what you were claiming to believe!”
“Yes, yes . . . Now you are beginning to see it correctly—and, no, I do not know it—and so do not understand it—and so cannot believe it—but, yes, yes, but—as in nevertheless—the eternal nevertheless—” Aneht said, pointing a finger skyward, “I know the Good, and so understand the Good, and so believe the Good . . . And so proclaim the word of the Good . . . As that which is true!”
“But how, Aneht, do you know the Good?” Elli asked, leaning forward with Beatríz, each looking eager in their wonderment.
“Why, of course,” replied Aneht, in a gentle voice, “by being in relationship with the Good.”
“And how does that happen? How do you have a relationship with the Good?” said Elli, her eyes locked onto Aneht’s.
“By being Aneht in ways that I, Aneht, cannot be, except in relation to the Good! I know who and what I am by myself, and who and what I am in relation to the Good—which is always both more than I truly am by myself, and so more of who I truly am—”
“So, in other words, Aneht,” interrupted Elli, “you can proclaim what is true, even though you do not know it—or understand it—or even believe it—because you know and understand and believe the Good to be true—who calls you to proclaim what the Good tells you to proclaim?” (Like the Cannotoads, Elli was thinking.)
“Yes, yes, Elli—I think you have it! You are, in asserting what is true, making no sense! Yes, yes! But you are making sense of yourself!”
Elli squinted in perturbation, as if saying to Aneht, “I’m lost again!”
“Yes! Yes! You make—truly—no sense, Elli, but you also do so make sense by making sense of yourself—and so of the universe—and of your place in it!”
The sun was beginning to redden as it dropped slowly down the dusky sky toward the western horizon. Rivers of color, including changing hues and shades of red and yellow, flowed through low-slung clouds that lapped against the distant edge of the forest. Beatríz was about to ask Aneht what she meant when she said that by their being in her Mud Mansion they were also at the center of the universe, but she shivered visibly, suddenly aware that she was no longer basking in the light and warmth of the sun.
Elli was puzzling about other notions, including the notion of living eternally each moment, and was about to ask Aneht what she meant by their being prepared for war, when Aneht, on noticing Beatríz’s discomfort, announced, “Yes, yes! More time for questions, but we must be off! Off at once! Falcons will be above and about, spying for Sutante and looking for captives or prey wandering unawares!”
“I didn’t think any of the enemy was in Sanctuary, Aneht!” said Beatríz, in distress.
“Oh—yes, yes! No, no! No enemy in Sanctuary, but above Sanctuary! The Falcons cannot land in Sanctuary, but they can fly above it and snatch from it! Must be very aware at night! Yes, yes! So, let us be off!”
“Off to where?” asked Elli, as Aneht grabbed their hands, pulled them gently from their chairs, and dove back into the dome, lifting the girls off their feet.
“Why, off to sleep!”
“Here in Mud Mansion, Aneht?” asked Beatríz, her discomfort swallowed by an earnest curiosity.
“No, no! Heavens no! We go to sleep in the stars!” Aneht said, flinging the girls behind her as—effortlessly—she seemed to fly swiftly up one flight of circular stairs after another until almost instantly on leaving the porch they were standing in the middle of the single, uppermost dome of Mud Mansion, Aneht peering straight up at the hole glimmering in the middle of the ceiling. Beatríz could feel and smell that they were still inside the mansion, but that was as much as she knew.
“The hole in the ceiling, Beatríz,” Elli said. “Aneht is looking up at the hole. She looks sort of like a cat trying to decide if it can jump that high!” Aneht giggled.
“Yes, yes! Onto the starway! Here we go!” Aneht launched herself into the shimmering hole, pulling the girls up behind her as if they weighed nothing, and disappeared.
~nine~
What shattered the silence for Alex and Jamie, startling them to alertness, was a single, incongruous sound: of someone singing! Of someone humming—in the distance, and getting louder! Alex and Jamie looked at one another and then quickly all about them, straining to hear more clearly. They heard a definite humming sound; but there seemed to be words as well—and a tune of some sort weaving its way in and out of the constant drone. A large shadow passed swiftly over the water, and the combination of sounds became loud and distinct and constant, as if whatever it was that was making the sounds was accompanying them downstream, above the river and just out of sight.
In the light breeze Alex and Jamie were stunned to hear distinctly a song wafting playfully on the wind:
“I’d rather be a bee
than a big brown bear;
I’d rather bee a bee
than a rocking chair.
I’d rather bee a bee
than a cup of tea;
I’d rather bee a bee
‘cuz a bee is me!”
I’d rather bee a bee
than a warty toad;
I’d rather bee a bee
than a gravel road.
I’d rather bee a bee
than a big oak tree;
I’d rather bee a bee
‘cuz a bee is me!”
Oh . . .
I’d rather bee a bee
than a big red ball;
I’d rather bee a bee
than a waterfall.
I’d rather bee a bee
than a . . . ”
At that moment, hovering just above their heads, Alex and Jamie, their mouths wide open, saw what appeared at first blush to be a black and yellow bumblebee, of the sort they had seen in their yards back home, except much larger! As in the size of a buffalo! The sound of its wings was almost deafening, and they would