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A New Jeopardy Part Fifteen
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Then,
the sheer plummet straight toward earth, its singed wings folded
close to its golden body, a great, piercing cry coming from its
syrinx. To Jack's amazed eyes, it shot past, looking like some
glowing star torn loose from the heavens. Into and through the cloud
cover it went, leaving silence in its wake as the kettle flew
westward with their passengers exchanging stunned looks.
************************************************************
With a blast, the misty air inside the clouds bathed her form as she shot through them. Below, lay the earth but she did not gather herself to brace for its impact. There was no need for it in her heart. She kept her eyes on Maximus. That would do her. That would be enough to take her to and through her ending. And so it was she did not see the land below them was rust-colored desert, nor did she see the wide fountain that lay as lore required in the bullseye of the eagle's focus. She did not know how even from the sun the eagle had seen it's sought-for fountain, diving towards it unerringly through the vaults of sky. All she knew was that Maximus was dying and she would not leave him even then.
She saw that Maximus' lips, too, were parted and knew that he was being filled with the swirls of colors. Then the long dive stopped at last and the eagle opened its talon. Maximus drifted through the water, his cape aglow with shades of yellowgold and peach. She released her hold on the eagle's leg, sliding her arms around Maximus' neck, overwhelmed with gratitude to be touching him again. Was it an hour...or some slice of forever beyond the reach of time that they drifted together like that? Her long hair spread out like pink-hued kelp as they slowly turned in some unseen current that seemed to be taking them somewhere. Still his long lashes lay on his cheeks but she could not believe that he had gone on to some other place and left her only with his form. So she drifted with him in her arms, unable to feel anything other than peace.
So often he
had been near the outer boundary of that...so near to watching one
or the other of them...leave. Just hours ago...mere hours...he had
stood there in the snow, waiting for the tiger to leap on Joimus. He
blinked rapidly as he took himself back to the moment when he had
stared down at Maximus as he lay there so hurt, so very, very
vulnerable. The General was not supposed to be so vulnerable as
that...not supposed to be so open to a quick twist of the neck, a
fur drape blocking the intake of breath. How easy to have ended it
all there by the tiger cage. He had taken the toe of his shoe and
run it back and forth along Maximus' side, feeling the metal of the
cuirass that was supposed to protect the General, be a sign and
symbol of his hard strength and invulnerability. In his existence,
Sid had found people to be all too weak, all too
easily... eliminated. The General was supposed to be different.
Over and over Sid had tested the limits of Maximus' ability to withstand, to survive, to endure...and each time he had...no matter what, he had. Sid had not fully realized how much he needed that from one person, how he needed there to be one man not easily eliminated, one man who could withstand whatever. And Joimus. He smiled. How he enjoyed pushing the Pittsburgher to her limits...and beyond. She had this unexplainably deep commitment to the General and testing that, stretching that, trying to break that was the greatest pleasure he had found...well, other than certain activities he engaged in with Bunny when she was not mad at him. He liked to think of the pair of them as his personal lab rats. He felt...robbed. They were gone and he had had nothing to do with their going. He wanted to smash test tubes and splatter chemicals on the walls. He felt empty, almost...lost.
The afternoon wore on in silence as the sun, unmoved by great tragedy, sailed grandly toward the western horizon. Peaches and pinks, scattered streaks of indigo, painted the lower sky and some of the cast snuggled down deeply into the feathers and slept. Himself, half his napkins torn lose and fluttered away, could find no rest, no release for his pain. In his head repeated endlessly the single word, "Maximus . . . Maximus . . . Maximus." Even without closing his eyes he could so easily find himself once again in a pine forest or on the blazingly hot sands of Malta. He and Maximus had been...one...and no one knew the loss of that as he alone knew. Just as he remained ever within each of his characters, each of them still lived within him. He felt as though some great chunk of himself had been ruthlessly severed and the wound of it throbbed and cried out in pain.
"Well, I don't like it!" he snapped. "It won't last," she added, hoping to cheer him. "It never does." "Humph!"
he commented, wishing he had a crowbar and a big plate glass window.
Marti, jarred out of a pleasant dream-fantasy of the Captain and a mysterious horde of blonde women, felt more than a bit grouchy. "Shut up!" she shouted back at him. "We ARE!" he insisted, pointing into the west where lay white shores and beyond, a far green land. Everyone sat up and stared, open- mouthed at the sight. It was true, and it was just as Maximus had described. Ando gulped. She had had other plans. "Is it heaven?" asked Susan. "Could it be Elysium?" wondered Anna. Quite a bit of babbling went back and forth until Teller burst out triumphantly, "It...it's...AUSTRALIA!" Himself
managed a weak smile. It WAS heaven! He let himself sag back into
Phyllis' arms. "Home," he murmured, his spirit worn and
tired, but, oh, so very grateful.
As the eagles sailed over Coff's Harbour, Franki looked down, remembering her visit there. Within moments it seemed the entire kettle dropped low over Nana Glen, landing lightly, smoothly between the barn and the main house. Himself shook his head, hoping his mother was not looking out some window. He had no idea whatsoever how to explain THIS to her!
"I see you've brought company for breakfast," she remarked in that manner that so endeared her to his heart. When they hesitated due to their numbers, she said firmly, "Now don't stand out here in the yard gawking. Come on in! The muffins are fresh out of the oven."
The expression in her eyes told them that even though she had never been in an epi before, somehow she realized she was mother to all the characters. Indeed, as they filed past her through the doorway, her head bobbed up and down as she recognized each of the men, greeting them by name. Teller came in last and Jocelyn looked at him fondly for he was the one who had brought her son home. "You're the new one, aren't you?" she asked, laying her palm on his chest. "What are they calling you these days?" He smiled,
feeling suddenly slightly shy. "Teller," he said softly,
then added, "Mum," wanting to try out the word. Himself
beamed as he watched the two of them together. He quite liked Teller
and liked even more the fact that it was, indeed, because of him
that he was standing now in his own house. Jocelyn joined in his laughter. "This'll take a bit of gettin' used to," she remarked, "havin' two Terrys around the farm at the same time." "Well, where IS he?" Himself asked again, still chuckling. "Down in Coffs running some errands," she explained. "He'll be back, I expect, a bit after lunch." She bustled about, filling plates with eggs, bacon, muffins, pouring mug after mug of coffee and tea. Several of the women helped and soon the food was eaten, the plates scraped, and ready to be washed. When everything was set in order again she took Himself to one side and told him he needed to check his bedroom in the far wing of the house. "Why?" he asked, curious. "You'll see," was all she would say. As he started down the long hall, she added, "Take the lot of 'em with you." Truly puzzled now, he led the large group toward his room. The door was closed and he opened it slowly, letting out a huge gasp when he saw what was inside. "What is it?" asked Lachlan, still a bit far down the hall. "I don't know," Wanda replied. "I can't see yet." Himself stood there a long moment, the flats of his palms resting on either side of the door frame, his head shaking slightly from side to side in disbelief. In his bed, propped up on about six soft pillows and with a fat, quilted comforter halfway up his chest, lay Maximus... smiling at him. Joimus, one of Jocelyn's shawls draped about her shoulders, sat, feet tucked up under her, atop the comforter near the General's knees. She let the book she had been reading aloud to him rest on her lap as she, too, smiled broadly at the figure in the doorway. "Welcome home," she said, then smiling even more widely, added, "we've been waiting for you.”
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