The Cauldron by Charles Goodwin Chapter 14

The Founding of Chiron




Chapter 14

Australian Dreamtime.

The night’s darkness receded as the fiery mauve-red Australian sunrise consecrated the new dawn.

The red tailed Quantas jumbo with its white kangaroo insignia banked and commenced its final descent by circling above the most beautiful of all the harbour cities of the world.

‘Look Rebecca!’ Monica’s eyes lit up with pure elation. ‘There’s the Sydney Harbour Bridge. And look, there’s the Opera House. I’m so excited. We’ve finally arrived. Whoopee...!’

Rebecca leaned over to the window and whispered a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens.

‘Yes Monica, we’ve finally arrived,’ she answered devotedly. Her eyes were moist. The invoking majesty of the panoramic Sydney Harbour with its multitude of inlets and outlets, reached out to her as if to bid her spirit an emotional ‘Welcome home!’

And in the distance the misty Blue Mountains offered its maternal sacred protection and silent sanctity.

‘Rebecca, are you crying?’ asked Monica tenderly.

‘I don’t understand it. I feel like I’ve come home to the land of eternal dreaming,’ replied Rebecca without taking her eyes, even for a second, from the beckoning scenery.

‘This land is my final home. I know it.’ Sparkling tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘Monica I’m so happy. It’s the most incredible spiritual feeling! But oh I wished Paul was here alongside me, sharing in this experience.

Monica clutched her hand. ‘He’ll be with you soon. Be patient,’ she whispered.

The huge jumbo levelled out over the sea and lined up with the runway for its landing approach.

Monica grinned and almost babbled with excitement. ‘You know, I feel the same about Australia.I bet you’ve been an Australian Aboriginal in a previous life. In fact I bet I have too. Hey, we could have once been tribal friends.’

Rebecca laughed and at the same time, sobbed with happiness. ‘You are so wickedly delightful, Monica.’

‘You are too!’ she replied with innocent cheekiness.

The plane touched down like a lumbering, yet graceful pelican, and taxied to the terminal. The captain gave the order for the doors to be disarmed. Rebecca and Monica jumped to their feet. Simon stood at the exit to say farewell.

‘Thank you so much for taking such care of us,’ said Rebecca showing her gratitude by kissing him lightly on the cheek.

‘Yes, thank you Simon, you were wonderful,’ added Monica.

‘Now you ladies take good care of yourselves,’ he replied posing with both hands on his hips. ‘And if you can’t be good, at least try to be gentle to us fragile Australian guys. I mean to say, it’s guys like me who have to pick up the pieces, you know.’

Monica giggled at Simon’s gaiety. ‘I’ll try, but I can’t promise. Do you have to fly out again today?’ she asked.

‘Oh no. I have three days in Sydney. And, would you believe, a United States warship is in port. Fun, fun, fun!’ he whispered winking.

‘Then goodbye and be extra careful,’ cautioned Rebecca as they stepped off the plane and into the aero-bridge.

‘It’s a pity Simon is gay. It seems such a waste,’ sighed Monica as they entered the terminal. ‘He’s rather good looking and so caring.’

‘Now now Monica,’ replied Rebecca. ‘I’m sure Simon’s boyfriends would disagree that he’s wasting his talents.’

Rebecca pointed to the baggage collection sign. ‘This way’ she announced exuberantly, almost skipping rather than strolling. ‘I feel like I’m floating on air. I can’t remember the last time I felt this free.’

‘You’re probably on a high with jet lag,’ joked Monica. ‘Personally I would like to drown myself under a shower.’

‘No, can’t you feel it Monica? I’m being serious. It’s the energy of this country. There’s an open and free feeling. Europe in comparison feels claustrophobic and enclosed.’

‘Oh Rebecca, I’m so happy for you,’ flashed Monica. ‘Hey, do you think we’ll see some kangaroos and koalas today?’

Rebecca chuckled. ‘In Australia, anything is possible!’

They collected their suitcases and coaxed the squeaky disobedient trolley through to customs.
‘Good morning madam. Welcome to Australia.’ The relaxed and layback customs officer tapped the computer keys then stamped the passbook. ‘Welcome to Australia.’

'Thank you,’ replied Rebecca. ‘Thank you so much.’

Rebecca waited a few tense moments in the terminal for Monica to appear through customs.

‘We’re in Australia! I can’t believe it!’ exclaimed Monica with arms outstretched. They hugged each other fervently and danced a full circle.

‘Arriving from Amsterdam, I thought at least our luggage would be checked for drugs,’ said Rebecca.

‘What on earth do we do now?’ chirped Monica, ‘Where are we to stay?’

Rebecca didn’t answer. She noticed a shy young man in the crowd staring awkwardly at her from the other side of the terminal. Monica glanced in the direction Rebecca was looking.

‘What is it?’ she asked, a little worried.

‘That man over there in the yellow shirt, near the car rental counter, seems to be trying to attract my attention.’

‘I see him. He’s smiling at us,’ answered Monica. ‘Should we go and ask what he wants? He seems innocent enough and he is kind of cute looking.’

‘I’ll go. It’s me he’s watching. Keep an eye on our suitcases.’

Monica hid her disappointment. She felt a canny warm feeling about this stranger and didn’t appreciate being told to wait.

He was an inch shorter than Rebecca and light framed. Rebecca judged him to be in his late twenties, though his sun bleached curly hair made him look younger.

‘Excuse me, but you seemed to be trying to attract my attention. Can I help you at all?’ Rebecca’s voice sounded firm and forthright.

‘Are ... are you Rebecca Childs?’ he asked stammering.

‘I am. Why do you ask?’

‘Thank.... God,’ he replied relieved, a beaming smile highlighting his freckled face. ‘I thought you would be arriving alone. When I saw two ladies, I wasn’t completely sure.’

‘I don’t understand,’ responded Rebecca. ‘Sure of What?’

‘Oh I’m sorry. My name is Justin Thornton. Wakonda sent me to meet you.’

‘Wakonda!’ But how did he know I’d be on the plane?’

Justin shrugged. ‘How does Wakonda know anything?’

Rebecca was taken aback by the answer. She paused and then eyed Monica gesturing impatiently.

‘Justin, could you come over and meet my friend Monica? I sense she’s feeling left out.’

Justin half nodded. Rebecca held him by the arm, and all but dragged him through the bustling crowd.

‘Monica, this is Justin. Wakonda sent him to meet me,’ enthused Rebecca excitedly.

Justin’s eyes met Monica’s. Neither said a word. Rebecca felt the incredible attraction free flowing between her dearest friend and Justin.

‘How conceited of me.’ Rebecca remarked softly and remembered her request to Wakonda to send someone extra special into Monica’s life. ‘It’s one of Wakonda’s leelas. Obviously Wakonda sent Justin to meet you Monica, not me!’

Monica and Justin blushed, yet both knew so deep in their hearts that it was so.

‘Hi Justin,’ managed Monica shyly. ‘I’m from Amsterdam.’

‘I... I am pleased to meet you Monica,’ stuttered Justin with embarrassment. ‘And I would like to say, I th... I th... think Monica is a lovely name.’

Monica’s lips moved unintentionally. She whispered so that only she could hear. ‘It’s crazy but I know I love you, Justin.’

‘I... I’m sorry. I ..I didn’t hear what you said,’ he stammered, betraying his sensitive innocence.

Monica’s speeding mind caught up with her racing heart. ‘I said.... I love you,’ she repeated, shrugging with disbelief at the words she was vocalising.

‘I...I love you too,’ answered Justin as his last tears of loneliness bade their final goodbye.

Rebecca gazed at the two lovebirds in motherly astonishment. ‘I’ve heard of love at first sight, but you two must take the cherry cake. You know absolutely nothing about each other.’

Monica gave her the most exquisite grin. ‘Dear Rebecca, look who’s talking. At least I didn’t wake up in Justin’s bed and in a strange hotel room.’

Rebecca blushed then laughed. ‘Hey now that’s different,’ she protested.

‘Well you agreed that Wakonda sent Justin to meet me. In which case Wakonda must have somehow known I’d be on the plane. And you did tell me you prayed to Wakonda to send me someone to love... And...’

‘Ok, I get the message,’ interrupted Rebecca. ‘But it appears I’m not the only one high on jet lag.’

Justin felt awkward with the conversation. He took hold of the stubborn luggage trolley.

‘I’m sorry Monica. I didn’t mean to embarrass anyone. I’m usually not so forward.’ Before Monica could respond in protest, he added, ‘I have a car in the parking station. Would you like to follow me?’

Rebecca glanced at Monica. Monica nodded as if to say, ‘Don’t you dare say no!’

‘Can you recommend a hotel where we can stay for three or four days?’ asked Rebecca as they stepped into the fresh morning air. ‘We’d love to tour Sydney before we head off to Chiron.’

Justin peeped at Monica. ‘While visiting Sydney I stay at my sister’s flat in Manly about twelve kilometres across the harbour. There are plenty of serviced apartments close by. And you can catch the ferry or the fast jet-cats into Sydney. Manly has a fabulous beach too.’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ said Rebecca.

‘Sounds perfect,’ sighed Monica. ‘I’ll have to buy a new bikini so I can get an all over Australian tan.’ She grinned cheekily, ‘Oops, I meant to say, a nearly all over tan.’

Justin pretended he didn’t hear the quip about her swimsuit. ‘Fine, then I’ll drive you to Manly. It takes longer by car but it saves lugging all the suitcases onto the ferries.’

‘Do we drive over the Sydney Harbour Bridge by any chance, to get to Manly?’ asked Monica, her eyes flashing with fairy tale wonderment.

Justin smiled and nodded. ‘We sure can do.’

‘Goodie, isn’t this perfectly exciting, Rebecca?’

Rebecca tried hard to mirror Monica’s natural childish enthusiasm. She began to feel the odd person out.

‘Yes, it’s fabulous,’ she replied.

Rebecca chose to sit in the back seat of the late model four wheel drive so that Monica could be next to Justin.

Justin drove slowly and defensively out of the airport gates. ‘Do you live at the ashram?’ asked Monica.

‘Wakonda has requested we use the term ‘community’ rather than ashram. Yes, I’ve been there for over a year now.’

‘And what did you do before joining the community?’ chipped Rebecca from the back seat.

‘I.... I was a Catholic priest. I... I am sorry but when I get nervous I stutter a little.’

‘A Catholic priest. That’s wonderful. I’m baptised Catholic too!’ exclaimed Monica without thinking.

‘May I ask, why you left the church?’ pursued Rebecca with compounding interest.

Justin thought for a while before offering his response. ‘One night Wakonda came to me in an incredibly vivid dream. I thought he was the Master Jesus. Later I saw Wakonda’s picture in a magazine and recognised him. I knew instantly, I had to go to him.’

Justin’s expression turned angelic. ‘The love.... You wouldn’t conceive of the love. It must be like being next to Jesus.’ He paused and then continued with sadness. ‘To leave the Church was the hardest decision of my life. I could no longer equate the ritualistic dogma and internal politics of the church with the actual love experience of an enlightened Master.’

Rebecca recounted in her mind her own dream experiences and astral visions of Wakonda. She profoundly understood Justin’s ardent devotion, and the dilemma he must have went through.
‘I was called in a dream to Wakonda also,’ she announced triumphantly.

She observed Justin’s enigmatic smile in the rear vision mirror. She quickly expanded her statement. ‘I didn’t mean that to sound so egotistical. It’s just wonderful to hear someone else who’s had similar experiences.’

Then suddenly Justin uttered the words Rebecca needed to hear. He spoke with conviction and love. ‘Wakonda is calling hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people to Australia, by way of visions and dream experiences. They are from all parts of the globe and from all religions. There is a miracle happening in Australia and around Wakonda that is impossible to comprehend.’ He paused and added a dramatic tone to his voice. ‘Chiron is the new Noahs Ark in a world of impending storms.’

‘Wow, cool!’ exclaimed Monica. ‘For a change it sounds like, we are in the right place at the right time. Did you pack the umbrellas, Rebecca?’

“Umbrellas. No why?’ asked Rebecca, still stunned at Justin’s statements.

‘For the impending storms, of course.’

Cautious Justin dared to take his eyes away from the traffic for a few seconds to grin at Monica’s playful temerity. They exchanged cute, almost teasing glances.

‘You are truly gorgeous... and cheeky,’ he said.

‘So are you,’ she answered.

God, they are so compatible, mused Rebecca in her mind, as she listened to Monica and Justin exchange niceties. Who would have guessed? My dear sweet Monica with an equally innocent ex Catholic priest.

Justin proved to be a most knowledgeable guide. He purposely detoured so Rebecca and Monica could view some of Sydney’s famous landmarks.

‘This is the popular Darling Harbour leisure and entertainment development. It really comes alive at weekends and has wonderful street theatre. If you look across Cockle Bay, on the other side you can see the Sydney Aquarium facility.’

‘Look up there Rebecca. There’s a Monorail,’ shouted Monica surprised, ‘I’ve never been on a Monorail.’

‘From the ferries, you should catch the Monorail at the end of the Pit Street shopping mall, to come to Darling Harbour,’ advised. Justin, ‘You might consider a day pass, as there’s so much to see within a short stroll from each of the stations on the circuit.’

Justin drove past the imposing Centrepoint Sydney Tower centre and its 170 shops.

‘Make sure you don’t miss the incredible views from the top of the tower,’ he said pointing up to the heavens. ‘On a clear day, the 360 degree scenery would have to rank as one of the best city views in the world.’

He stopped outside his beloved St. Mary’s Cathedral at Hyde Park and gazed upon the hallowed structure with reverent humility.

‘The spiritual presence in St. Mary’s Cathedral is often so powerful that I am reduced to tears of devotional love,’ he whispered devoutly. ‘And the cathedral boasts one of the most heavenly choirs you are ever likely to hear.’

‘It’s a beautiful building. Do you still attend Mass here?’ asked Monica gently, almost becoming teary herself.

He turned and faced Monica as if he needed to confess an indiscretion. ‘Yes,’ he replied reluctantly, ‘As often as I can when I’m in Sydney.’ Then he added nervously ‘And I... I... would like to take you with me one day.’

Monica smiled and clutched his hand with fondness. ‘Justin I’d be honoured to accompany you to church.’

Justin grinned and became quite shy. He started the car and drove down to Circular Quay.

‘There’s the Manly ferry,’ he announced. ‘Make sure you sit up on that front deck section when you board tomorrow. You’ll see the most spectacular views of Sydney.’

‘I bet it’s even more beautiful and romantic at night,’ purred Monica.

‘Well actually, I wouldn’t know how romantic it is,’ replied Justin truthfully, ‘I have never been blessed with a girlfriend.’

‘You have been now,’ teased Monica, fluttering her eyelashes. ‘Just imagine, you can experience all the things you’ve missed out on.’

Justin’s freckled face blushed. He pretended to glance out of the driver’s side window at an overtaking delivery van.

Rebecca came to Justin’s aid. ‘I didn’t realise the ferries docked so close to the city. We’ll only need to stroll across the street,’ she remarked awkwardly.

Monica turned to Rebecca and grinned. Rebecca shook her head with a frown, as if to say, ‘Go easy on poor Justin. You’ll scare him off.’

‘So where to now?’ asked Monica in a normal voice, accepting Rebecca’s unworded reprimand.

‘Just ahead of us at Bennelong point is the Sydney Opera House.’

‘From the air, I thought the Opera House looked like white sails on a small sailing ship,’ commented Rebecca.

‘There’s nothing small about our Opera House,’ replied Justin proudly. ‘The four main halls seat over 5,000 people. The project was designed by Danish architect Jørn Utzon and officially opened in 1973 at a cost of a then controversial, gigantic $102 million. That’s three quarters of a billion dollars in today’s money.’

‘I don’t understand,’ gasped Monica resolutely. ‘How can anyone justify spending a three quarters of a billion dollars on a building to house the arts, when the world has so much poverty and homelessness.’

‘If only the answers to the world’s problems were that simple,’ responded Justin, saluting Monica’s idealism. ‘But at least you can understand why some of the controversy arose. The costs just kept soaring. Once construction started they really had no alternative but to finish.’
‘And it wasn’t over until the fat lady sang,’ mused Rebecca.

‘That’s when the structure started cracking!’ joked Justin as he circled the car near the front of the main hall.

‘Now I’ll show you where the beautiful Royal Botanic Gardens are. I personally love the gardens and often go to meditate there of a weekend.’

‘I’ve heard the Gardens are huge,’ remarked Rebecca.

‘The Gardens were originally Australia’s first farm. They cover an incredible 30 hectares in the heart of Sydney. They not only boasts a wide variety of exotic plants but also magnificent breathtaking views over the harbour.’

Justin continued the tour past the Gardens and eventually turned on to the Bradfield Highway that leads to the bridge.

‘It’s all so absolutely fantastic,’ wailed Monica. ‘Hey Rebecca, we’re actually about to drive over the famous Sydney Harbour bridge!’

Justin continued with his commentary. ‘The bridge is 1148 metres wide and spans 503 metres across the water. It was opened in 1932. Back then it took seven years to complete and, believe it or not, the bridge is made up of over six million rivets.’

‘It’s far bigger than I imagined,’ said Rebecca. ‘At the time, the project must have been an engineering miracle.’

‘It sure was,’ agreed Justin, ‘Before the ‘iron lung’ was built, as it was affectionately called, the cars and horses were transported across the harbour on the ferries.’

‘No wonder the bridge was called the iron lung. How on earth did the city manage without it?’ gasped Rebecca trying to imagine all the traffic going across the harbour laden onto barges and ferries.

‘That’s the point. Sydney was suffocating.’

Justin looked down over the bridge as they began to cross.

‘The area known as the Rocks is just down there,’ he said gesturing. ‘That’s where Sydney began in 1788. In fact the Rocks is the site of the first European settlement in Australia. The colonial buildings are beautifully restored and there are hundreds of specialty shops, restaurants and cultural exhibitions.’

‘Oh I’d love to spend some time there also,’ enthused Rebecca to Monica. ‘We could stroll to the Rocks from the ferry tomorrow morning.’

‘And Sydney’s Taronga Zoo is over there on the other side of the Harbour. The zoological park also covers a 30 hectare site and is reputed to be one of the world’s finest. It certainly has the best views.’

Rebecca grimaced. Even as a child, she’d felt uncomfortable visiting zoos. She realised the more progressive zoos of the world were attempting to give animals a more natural environment. But the image of caged, sad eyed animals, placed on display to an insensitive gawking public, still haunted her.

Wakonda once said in one of his discourses, ‘Only until the human race has evolved to the point, where it is no longer deemed necessary to kill, eat or mistreat animals, will humans cease to kill each other and be violent to each other.’

Thoughtful silence prevailed as Justin headed the car for Manly.

Monica and Rebecca grew weary. The euphoria, resulting from their arrival into Sydney, now began to dissolve. The late October morning sunshine blazed in through the car windows. They felt drowsy and uncomfortable in their now out of season clothing.

Rebecca’s fatigued mind jumped between scattered thoughts of Paul and of Wakonda and his community. Amsterdam seemed another universe away. Beyond both time and reality.
Monica closed her heavy eyes and drifted into a contented state of half sleep. She imagined herself stretched out on the beach in her bikini with the cool breeze blowing sensually over her body. To Monica, sex was meant to be pleasurable. A perfectly natural expression of spiritual love. She fantasised, without self-censor, upon the delightful ways she might instruct and tease her new found virgin.

Justin glanced at her lovingly and a little lustfully, while she slept. He wondered whether he’d made the right impression with her. Maybe I’ve sounded like a know all, he chided himself.
He studied her soft facial features. He noticed the top two buttons of her ruffled blouse were undone. Surely, I could never possibly be deserving, of one who’s heart and soul is so beautiful, he thought nobly. He leaned back slightly, accepting just a tempting devilish peek down at her small firm white breasts.

His repressed sexuality began to stir. He tried to imagine what it would be like to live with her and to watch her bathe under the shower. Guilt, the most useless of all emotions, knocked at the door of his disciplined barriers.

And he felt tormented... and guilty... and ashamed.

Rebecca became aware that the car motor had been switched off. She slowly opened her eyelids to see Monica’s and Justin’s grinning faces staring at her.

‘Oh, I must have drifted off to sleep.’ She sat up, rubbed her eyes and then gazed out of the window. ‘Are we at Manly already?’

Justin nodded. ‘Do you like the look of this motel? It’s not as expensive as the seafront hotels. But as you can see all the apartments have balconies with views of the ocean.’

‘And there are my kangaroos and koalas,’ quipped Monica, pointing to a mural depicting Australian native animals near the ‘vacancy’ sign.

‘The Manly Koala, Serviced Apartments’ look fine to me,’ replied Rebecca sleepily, opening the car door.

‘And the position is fabulous! We’re only a few doors from the esplanade,’ announced Monica.

‘My sister’s flat is in the next street and up the hill. So I won’t be far away if you need me,’ advised Justin.

‘I hope not!’ scolded Monica jovially. ‘You’re not getting away from me that easily.’

Rebecca stretched her legs and relished the clean, fresh sea air. ‘If it’s all right with you Monica, we’ll book the room for three nights to allow time to explore Sydney. Then it’s off to the Blue Mountains and to Wakonda.’

‘Sounds great to me,’ she replied.

Justin lifted the suitcases from the boot and placed them at the reception. He looked at Rebecca. ‘When Wakonda asked me to meet you at the airport, I promised to drive you back to the community personally.’

Rebecca shook her head in protest to the offer. ‘No Justin, you’ve been absolutely wonderful. But we wouldn’t expect you to hang around for another three days before returning.’

‘Hey speak for yourself, I certainly would!’ interrupted Monica, her eyes flashing indignation.

Justin laughed. ‘Rebecca, I think for once you have been out voted. In any case, I have plenty to keep me occupied. Honestly, it won’t put me out at all.’

‘Well, it looks like I’ve lost this time,’ replied Rebecca. ‘Thank you for showing such kindness to Monica and myself.’

Justin nodded humbly. ‘Would you like me to give you a ring tomorrow morning to see how you are getting on?’

Monica quickly responded by strolling up to him and placing her arms tightly around his chest. She kissed him delicately on his lips. ‘Thank you Justin,’ she whispered. ‘Of course I want you to ring me.’

Justin felt her body’s stimulating warmth. He began to tremble with fearful uncertainty. He felt totally embarrassed of his obvious physical response.’

She pressed her lower torso in firmer. ‘And don’t worry Justin, I will prove to you how delectably beautiful you really are!’

‘Th... thank you,’ he stuttered. ‘And pl... please be patient with me.’

The refurbished rooms on the fourth floor were spacious and the prices reasonable. The kitchen had full cooking facilities and the high backed lounge suite proved comfy. Rebecca opened the sliding door to the balcony and allowed the cooling sea breeze to blow through the apartment.
The separate bedroom contained a queen size and a single bed. Monica immediately kicked off her shoes, jumped onto the larger bed and bounced up and down several times, excitedly singing and panting to the tune of ‘Here we go round the mulberry bush’

‘This is how Monica tests the springs,
tests the springs, tests the springs,
This is how Monica tests the springs
in the Koala apartments at Manly!’

‘Whee! So tell me, what do think of Justin?’ she asked jumping to the floor as Rebecca re-entered the room, ‘Isn’t he simply gorgeous?’

Rebecca was hesitant and demurely protective.

‘I admit Justin seems right for you. Though as your friend, I can only advise that you don’t rush headlong into a relationship where you might end up hurting each other.’

‘What do you mean? I wouldn’t hurt Justin,’ she asked disappointed at Rebecca’s negativity.

‘For one thing, he might get cold feet if he feels he’s being pushed too quickly,’ Rebecca added.

‘Oh, I shall not let that happen,’ responded Monica confidently. ‘But I’m not the independent type like you Rebecca. I need a man in my life to make me whole. Someone to love desperately. A husband! I want to have babies!’ She pointed a finger to her heart and nodded wide eyed as she spoke. ‘I intend to be Mrs. Monica Thornton.’

Rebecca felt affronted at Monica’s boisterous statements. ‘You seem to perceive me differently from how I perceive myself. Why do you think we are each so different?’

Monica feigned shyness and didn’t answer. Rebecca became niggly insistent.

‘I would like an answer from you, Monica,’ said Rebecca slightly condescendingly.

Monica shrugged. ‘I’d prefer not to answer. I don’t want to upset you,’ she pleaded.

‘Why would you upset me?’ Rebecca became more resolute. ‘I am waiting Monica!’ she demanded in her most authoritative schoolmistress voice. A voice, which even Rebecca, resented in her self.

Monica sighed with embattled reluctance. ‘Well, for instance, if I loved Paul, I wouldn’t have run off to the other end of the world. I would never leave a man I truly love!’

‘But we were running for our lives...’

‘No Rebecca,’ interrupted Monica. ‘You would have left anyway. Your so called ‘spiritual life’ is more important to you.’ Monica stopped momentarily and then fired, ‘Just because you dislike men so much, it doesn’t mean I have to.’

‘Oh, now I dislike men, do I?’ she spat sardonically.

‘You live for yourself Rebecca. Men are just challenges to you. Probably to overcome some stupid father complex. I don’t know.’

‘Now you are saying I’m selfish!’

‘No I am not,’ insisted Monica. ‘It’s more that I pity you. You are so insecure. You are only going to Wakonda to discover who you are, under the guise of being spiritual! Not to help others. Again, your motive is to want something for yourself.’

‘I didn’t realise you thought this of me,’ said Rebecca, her voice sounding suddenly gravening.

‘And I love you in spite of!’ answered Monica.

Rebecca felt deeply wounded. Monica touched raw nerves that Rebecca had believed were well under control.

‘I’ve always looked out for you. How can you think this of me?’ she pleaded like a controlling mother to a guilt ridden daughter.

‘It’s true you have been kind to me. But I’ve been like a cute little pussycat for you. A not too demanding pet that can offer you company without responsibilities. And, I might add, as soon as it suited you, you intended coming here to Australia without me.’

‘So you behaved like a child; then immediately Justin appears on the scene, you finally discover your tongue,’ countered Rebecca dryly.

Tears filled Monica’s eyes. She shook her head with denial and mournful compassion. ‘No, it’s not directly due to Justin. I realised I don’t want to end up alone like you. I have a lot of love and happiness to offer someone.’

‘You don’t want to end up like me?’ repeated Rebecca in astonishment. ‘Why didn’t you mention you felt like this before?’

‘You have never asked me how I felt. You always assumed you knew what was best for me. You operate from your mind and your intellect,’ blurted Monica. ‘I can’t help it that I operate from my heart.’

Rebecca collapsed onto the bed, totally perplexed at Monica’s outburst. Cascading doubts flooded her mind as to her own self worth and her love for Paul.

‘Perhaps you are right,’ she conceded, emotionally baiting Monica. ‘Perhaps I am becoming a worthless and self centred old maid.’

‘I haven’t said that at all.’ Monica voice became intensely serious. ‘But I feel the time is drawing nearer where we will need to follow separate paths. For both our sakes. While I’m with you, you have an excuse to be non-committal with others.’

Rebecca broke down and cried. She knew Monica was right. The winds of inevitable change were on the astral horizons.

‘No matter what happens, I never want to lose our friendship,’ she pleaded amidst the tears.

In a reversal of roles, Monica held Rebecca to her bosom and rocked her gently. ‘I’ll always love you. We’ll always be friends, I promise.’

‘I’m sorry I’ve treated you like a naive little child.’

‘And I’m sorry we’ve argued,’ replied Monica.

Rebecca wiped away the tears and blew her nose. ‘No, it was my fault. I didn’t want to lose you to Justin. I felt a little jealous.’

Monica shrugged her shoulders. ‘We are both so fatigued. I think we should shower and take a nap,’ she suggested, as the sparkle returned in her eyes. ‘And this evening, we can stroll to the ferries and take the harbour cruise into Sydney.’

Rebecca smiled. ‘I love you. And do you know something?’

‘No, what?’

‘I think Justin and you will make a lovely couple.’

‘I think so too,’ she answered precociously.

Monica slept peacefully in angel land while Rebecca, in the single bed, felt the full restless thrust of jet lag. As if to symbolise physical life, she drifted in and out of twilight sleep and tossed from side to side in bed, like a floundering lost sailboat on a sea of experiential storms. Monica’s outburst had etched in hard. ‘But men are bastards!’ she screamed at herself in her hazy sleep. ‘They are nothing but problems. Who needs relationships anyway?’

Her dream anger turned against her concept of God. She hollered a soul call into infinity.
‘God, why did you make life so damn hard for us humans? You created us so inadequate to cope.’ Rebecca’s argument with herself continued. ‘And if we are made in your image, then God help you also!’

She awoke trembling. A fearful lonely panic crept over her.

‘Paul, I don’t want to be alone. I love you,’ she shuddered clutching her pillow and sobbing. ‘I didn’t mean what I said.’

Once more drifting into a dream state, she saw herself as a little girl in bed for the night. She was crying out for affection and desperately alone. Her father as usual, was in his armchair in the sitting room buried in The Times crossword, blissfully unaware of the sensitivities of a small child.

‘Daddy I love you. I’m scared of the dark. I only need a cuddle. Please come in and give me a cuddle,’ she whispered, praying that her disconsolate words be heard.

Like her parents before her, Rebecca had not been encouraged to voice her feelings.

Instead she shouted, ‘Daddy can I have a glass of milk?’

‘Rebecca, your father is tired. You’ve had a drink already. Now go to sleep,’ insisted her mother through the closed door.

‘Go to sleep! Go to sleep!’ The beastly horrid words echoed through her consciousness.

She could hear Monica hauntingly repeating, ‘Just because you dislike men so much...’ ‘Men are just challenges to you. Probably to overcome some stupid father complex.’

Rebecca cried out in her sleep. ‘No! It can’t be so simplistic. It can’t possibly be!’

Suddenly, from a spiritual dimension of eternal compassion, a loving healing began to flow into her bruised warrior heart. Peace descended and slowly engulfed her being. Rebecca fell into a deep and profound sleep, her overstrained mind finally at rest.

The celestial light at first blinded her spiritual eyes.

‘Rebecca, thank you for coming to Australia. Welcome.’ The form appeared as a simile of an angelic being.

‘Wakonda is that you?’

‘Yes, it is I. Be patient and lovingly accept yourself,’ consoled Wakonda, his sweet voice radiating waves of intense divine love into Rebecca’s heart chakra.

‘Rebecca, when you dream, upon awakening, the dream seems muddled and unreal. Know also that your present physical life is a dream-shadow of a higher reality. A shadowland from which one-day you will awake from. Life may appear unreal and disconnected, however in the spiritual realms the drama of creation unfolds ever onwards according to spiritual law.’

Immersed in the bliss of this nirvanic, spiritual union, Rebecca ‘felt’ her own far off will requesting higher understanding.

Wakonda patiently answered at the level she was able to comprehend.

‘Each of your seven ‘bodies’ have senses similar to your physical body. And each of these bodies has a ‘mind state’ of awareness. When you dream, the corresponding senses and mind states of each of the seven bodies, attempt to interpret the symbology and meaning of the dream according to their harmonic level of memory and conditioning. Thus when you awake, the dream experience seems jumbled. For example, the current experience perceived by your ‘spiritual’ eyes and ears, will be interpreted on awakening, by your limited physical intellect according to its own past experiences.’

Wakonda paused and then added sweetly, ‘Remember always, ultimately you are not the doer, but the channel. Know this and trust in God.’

‘But I failed you, Wakonda,’ exclaimed Rebecca despondently. ‘You asked me to lead Paul to Chiron.’

‘No, you haven’t failed my child.’

‘I... I don’t understand,’ she heard herself respond.’

Wakonda’s astral image began to dissolve and fade as Rebecca’s conscious mind stirred.

‘You have brought Paul’s essence within you. Rebecca you are with child. You will be the mother of Paul’s son.’

Rebecca sat erect, fully awake and startled beyond understanding.

‘No, it’s impossible! I must have been hallucinating,’ she gasped with pure contented wonderment.

Monica awoke to see Rebecca dressed and sitting on the bed.

‘I’ve made you a nice cup of tea,’ said Rebecca exuberantly.

Monica stared at Rebecca, rubbed her eyes, then looked again.

‘Rebecca, what is it? You look glowing. Like you’re transfigured or something.’

Rebecca smiled. ‘I feel simply wonderful,’ she exclaimed. ‘So get up lazy bones. We’re off to Sydney.’

‘Are you sure you are feeling all right?’

‘Absolutely. However I do need to stop off at a chemist or drug store on the way.’

‘Fine.’ Monica shrugged and thought it best not to enquire why.

*

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Copyright 2004 – 2006 © Charles Goodwin. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, storage in a retrieval system or otherwise, without the prior express written permission of Charles Goodwin.

All characters - other than obvious historical figures - in this book 666 The Cauldron are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Prospective publishers with expressions of interest are invited to contact Charles Goodwin at cgoodwin@wealth-creators-club.com *