I wanted Dia.
~ ~
The boat was already in the dry dock when I returned. She looked absolutely enormous out of the water. I marveled.
Armon was nowhere to be found, but he had fantastic drawings of the restoration and some photos with details of what the woodworking would look like. Every image made me more and more eager to put my hands to work. Suddenly there was a bang and clattering up near the entry. Armon was standing at the stern launching trash toward a dumpster. He laughed as some of the pieces found their mark and I chided him about the ones that missed.
“You are back sooner than I expected,” he grinned. “Eager to get your hands on her, eh?” “Yes, I am. I feel like I am reborn. I am so grateful for this opportunity.”
“You’re a fine seaman, Sebastien. Getting her back here with you at the sails was so much easier than getting her to Marsala. Get up here, now. We have much to strip away before we can begin to remake her.”
“Aye Captain!” I teased. And we worked our hands raw for weeks, stripping away the facade to get to the heart of the project. I told Armon about my trip, even though I expected him to think I’d lost my mind. But he listened with rapt attention, eagerly eating up the details of walking with the twin founders of Rome, and setting off down the Tiber with King Tiberinus.
And I described every detail of his boat from the carving to the oars. I told him about the fountain and the days I spent with Oren Gale and his impossible family.
Armon told me I was blessed to have the immortals guiding me. He said he felt blessed that they chose him to take the journey with me. His words encouraged me so I told him about Dia with her hair like the setting sun. I told him what Kira told me at the fountain and how she chided me for not knowing my history. And I confided to him that even though I knew the date and what I needed to do to open the gate, I still didn’t really know where I was supposed to be to make it all happen.
“All the seas meet at Corsica,” Armon said matter-of-factly. “Tyrrhenian and Ligurian on the west, Balearic and Mediterranean on the east.
“Corsica,” I echoed.
Of course Corsica was the answer.
How could it not be the answer? French land that meets Italian water. And even more than that, Bastia was the dividing line. The place my old life ended and this fantasy began was the place I had to return to if I wanted this love to be real.
And I wanted it to be real.
I needed it to be real because I couldn’t stop dreaming about the way it felt when she touched me and how my soul began to sing when she kissed me.
SEDICI:
I practiced playing the song on the pan flute every spare moment.
I’m certain my neighbors were beginning to despise me, but the days were passing me by quickly and that was both a blessing and a great cause for crippling fear and insomnia. I kept telling myself that I had it right. Bastia. March first, the night the new moon would have started the New Year according to the twin founders of Roma. I had the water from Bracciano to offer when I lit the fire on Matronalia and asked The Goddess Vesta for the hand of one of her eternal daughters. I had the coin that held Dia’s wish and the Lotus leaf, though I did not know what purpose it served except as a symbol of resilience.
Cala called me quite often. I’m fairly certain she was just trying to keep me on track, but she was so much like Adrienne that I hardly got a word in when we spoke. Still I assured her that I would be in Bastia on the Kalends, and she was happy.
Oddly, Adrienne did not call me. Not once since the holidays.
Perhaps her father had finally had it with me after I quit my job, but if that was the case, it was okay. These people who took me in and encouraged me to find myself and my fate, they were my new family.
And I was happy.
~ ~
“Bastien,” Armon started as we worked side by side, sanding away aged paint from the hull. “I was wondering if you wanted me to accompany you on your trip. I though maybe you could use a ‘best man’ so to speak, to stand up for you. If you feel you must do this alone, I understand. You can take my boat to Bastia...”
I looked at him for a long moment, and I began to smile. He’d been treating me like a son since the moment I met him on the dock the day after Christmas. He was teaching me a skill that I was more than thrilled to learn and I could not even put into words the change he’d made in my life. “I would be so honored to have you stand beside me, Armon. I really would. I’ve been so afraid to hope for this. It seems insane and yet, I’m not the first to walk between the worlds. I lost my family and I lost myself for a long time, but I feel so lucky to be where I am. It seems fitting that you would be there with me, you’ve been the boatman twice. You got Oren Gale to his fate and it would be an honor to have you there as I attempt to meet mine.”
“Not attempt, Bastien, you will succeed.”
“I will. I will.” I replied, and my heart believed the words.
~ ~
The weather was perfect on the morning Armon and I set out. The sky was clear, the sun was shining and a light wind filled our sails as the boat flew across the waters.
Hope filled me.
And just that quickly, the time had come.
Armon and I walked along the beach. We were both simply dressed to uphold the custom of Martonalia and we made our way to the nearest point to where the land met the dividing line of the seas. The sky was darkening around us as we set the ring of stones and stacked the timber high enough for a fire that we thought would burn through the night. I dug through my satchel for the matches I packed, but my hand found the silver lighter the world had given me in Trastavere. I looked at it carefully in the waning light, it was engraved with lotus flowers and I knew it found it’s way to my hand for this moment. I flipped the lid and the blue flame rose strong and high. I said a silent thank you to the world for the help.
I took the lighter to the ringed timbers, knelt and set the flame to the wood. The wood crackled and the fire came to life unnaturally quickly. I stepped away, back to my satchel to get the lotus leaf and the water from Bracciano, but as I stood to walk back to the fire, a young woman blocked my path.
“Welcome Pontifex,” she started. “You must pay the tithe and then place your offering before the fire.”
She was dressed all in white with long hair that hung free on this night. She carried a small urn. And though I didn’t know the title she addressed me by, I knew that what I needed to give her to pay the way was the coin that held the wish that this day would come. I took it from my pocked and held it out between us. “This?” I asked.
“Yes, Gatekeeper.”
I kissed the coin and clenched it tight in my fist for a moment as I whispered to Dia to please come to me. Then I let the coin fall into the urn.
“You and the boatman may enter. Make your offering as soon as the sky is dark and the first star lights the night.”
“Thank you,” I answered with a bow.
“Did you see that, Bastien? She she just walked right out of the blue!” Armon gasped.
“We’re in Bastia, my friend, but I think we just crossed into a different world.”
The sky seemed to be darkening very quickly. I took the lotus leaf and my thermos to the ring of stones and I set them before the fire. The first stars gleamed above me and I prayed to the fire to grant me success.
In that instant, the fire began to grow.
It was lit from within with colors unnatural to fire and for a moment it seemed that what blazed there was actually a gate. My heart was pounding in my chest. I thought the Goddess herself was coming for me, but a man stepped from the flame, a man I did not know. He inclined his head to me.
“Sebastien Parodi, you have opened the gate. I am Folquet. I was the first. We have much in common, you and I. You see, I am a man of Marseille who is also son of a Genoese merchant. I have come to lend my voice to your song.”
And j
ust as I was about to thank him, he continued.
“I brought another with me.”
Out of the flame stepped my father.
Tears flooded my eyes. I threw my arms around him and he laughed as he returned my embrace.
“She kept her promise to me, Bastien. Now I will sing one more time so the promise made to her will be fulfilled.”
“I will sing as well,” said another voice behind me.
Folquet began to laugh. “Of course you will!”
There behind me stood Oren Gale with his wife and his children.
“It is time, Sebastien,” Folquet said softly.
I held the flute that had come through the hands of countless men looking for this door way to the immortal realm. I held the magical instrument in my mortal hands, hands that shook just a little. I called out her name to the water. Armon and my father stood at my shoulders as I began to play the notes and three voices lifted in song to accompany me. The water began to froth out on the still sea. The Daughters of the Eternal Water rose to the surface, joyfully splashing the water into the air as they danced. And the one I wished for rose among them and she walked toward the shore. The water fell away from her as her sunset colored hair blew in the gentle breeze.
Tears fell from my eyes as I played the song all the way to its climax.
Dia stood smiling. She pressed her hand to my heart. “I feel it, Sebastien, the same love I feel in my own heart.”
“You are all my heart has ever loved, Dia.” I told her. But as I reached out for her hand, here eyes grew wide. I turned. The fire grew strong leaping high into the clear night sky. The flames licked out at me, though the fire did not spread and none of the others moved from their places. Still, I shielded Dia from the fury of it with my body.
“She is come, Sebastien. It is the Great Mother, ruler of all that is eternal.” Dia whispered as she held my arm.
I dropped to my knees as she took form in the flame and stepped from the unnatural light.
“For one who has felt unloved, many have come to uphold you,” The Goddess started. “Rise, Sebastien Parodi, let me look upon you.”
“Great Mother, grant me this gift. I beg you find me worthy of this daughter who has been locked in my heart, though I denied the water and I denied my life. I repent. I believe in fate and in love. I give myself completely.”
She reached out and touched my heart. That touch burned. She drew her hand back just a few inches and pure white light was drawn from me, making a bridge of sorts between her hand and my heart. I looked from that light to the woman holding my essence in her palm and I knew she was judging all I was.
“Dia,” she called at last. “His gate is open. If you accept him place your hand here and you will be the key to his heart.”
“I accept him, Great Mother. He is all that was promised and so much more,” she answered as she looked up at me with eyes that were blue and green at once, eyes like the sea. Then she took her hand, took the light from The Mother and became part of my soul.
“The promise is fulfilled, you are bound in love and in life. You are one.”
“I think that means you may kiss the bride, Sebastien!” my father said in his joyful voice.
And I did kiss her, my dream, my love, my mermaid who gave my life a purpose.
The whole company cheered.
I knelt again and kissed the hand of The Mother on the night of Matronalia. “Thank you for this gift. I will cherish her, I swear it.”
“Don’t thank me, Sebastien, thank all these people who have made this journey because they love you,” she smiled. “I think your father would like a few words before the gate closes.”
And I turned away as she called Armon to her. I wanted to listen, but I didn’t want to intrude. I took Dia’s hand and we walked over to my father.
“Papa, I’m sorry...”
“Bastien, I am so proud of you. I was always so proud to be your father.”
“I was so stubborn. I missed so many opportunities to learn from you. I missed you so much.”
“You weren’t so stubborn, you were a child, remember that when you have children of your own. You have life, a good life ahead of you. The Parodi line will continue, and I have gotten to see magic happen for you.” He reached out and stroked Dia’ cheek. “Love her with every ounce of yourself, Son. Never forget how much love made this possible.”
“I won’t forget, Papa. I won’t forget this time.”
But just then Floquet laid his hand on my father’s shoulder. “It is time, Gian.”
My father put this arms around both Dia and I for a moment, then he turned and walked back through the gate of fire with Folquet.
Dia held me tight as I watched him leave, but I was not sad. My father was happy. Like the music, he became eternal. He gave the nymphs such joy in life that they took him beyond this world.
The fire flared up into the sky one last time and then extinguished without any assistance and all that remained was the ring of stones.
“What did she say to you?” I asked Armon.
He looked at me with eyes filled with wonder. “She said when my time was come, there was a place for the boatman and the Nymphs would guide me home. Can you believe that? She would take me to the eternal realm.”
“Yes, I can believe it, my friend. I can absolutely believe it.”
And there we all stood, seven people who were tied together as a family because The Mother made it so. Oren Gale brought champagne with him to celebrate this wedding and we laughed and danced and sang under the moonless sky. Cala was just as lovely and as talkative as she always was, and I could see Dia’s joy as she spoke with her. I had not met Evan in Ostia, but as much as Cala might have been a muse like her mother, Evan might have been a God. He resembled his parents, but only mildly. He looked like every statue of Mercury come to life.
Impossible children.
And a life filled with love.
This was my fate and when the morning sun sent it’s first ray over the horizon we all praised it and then we said goodbye.
But not really goodbye because we were a family.
IN SEGUITO:
Years passed though time didn’t seem to match the numbers.
Armon and I finished the Greek boat. Being the first that I had a hand in restoring, she was hard to let go, but we took on another and others after that.
I woke each morning with this woman, who was more beautiful every day, pressed into my side. I was blessed. We had children, twin sons we named Gian and Zale. When I held them at their birth, I wondered if they would bicker like the sons of Mars, I wondered what fate they would find in the world. And I marveled that Dia would give me such a gift. A few years later we were blessed with a daughter, Merielle. Unlike her brothers, she had Dia’s sunset colored hair, and she was otherworldly like her mother.
Dia and I sat on the beach at San Tropez, watching the children splash in the water. The boys held their sister’s hands as the waves came and they jumped and laughed. I wrapped my arm around my wife as we watched. “Dia,” I asked softly, “do you miss it? Do you miss the sea and your sisters?”
She looked up at me, then she pushed me down on the blanket where we sat and leaned with her elbow upon my chest. “Never. Not even for a moment, my love.”
“Never?”
“I have love. I have a beautiful husband and children. Look at them, Bastien. Look what we have made! Would you change anything about this life?”
“Not a thing, my angel. Not a single thing.”
* * *
“That was sweet. I liked the brothers, even through all the bickering there was still love.”
“I liked them too, what is life without a little humor, right?”
“Right! Tell me another. Tell me the most perfect story of the most perfect love.”
“I don’t know if I know that story. I think you should tell me the perfect story. I have told a numb
er of them, but I’m still not sure if I’ve made my way into your heart. Tell me what love is for you, so I’ll know what I need to do to make you happy.”
“You don’t need to do anything. You already live in my heart. You are perfect to me. I don’t need a story to define what is right here in my arms. I just love that you tell them. It’s sweet, and it gives me so much hope to know what’s inside your heart. But I will tell the next story so you will know how I feel when I listen to yours.”
* * *
Beloved Disciple
Ahat:
‘A woman’s heart is different from a man’s, I think. Even when she suffers, a woman’s eyes can still show the love inside her.’
Those were the first words Yeshua spoke to me. Those were the words that bound me to him for all time. He was a man set upon a task that would change the hearts and lives of men for generations to come, but ours was a story of love that would last for eternity.
~ ~
I sat alone at the side of the road. I was dirty in more ways than just the visible smudges and the filth beneath my fingernails. The pain and noise inside me were tearing me apart more than the abuse or my disgrace. The people making their way into the market looked away, avoiding my eyes, pretending I was not there, or whispering to their children to give a wide berth and beware the demons that hovered in and out of me. There were no tears left inside me to cry, I was too far depleted. Though I carried ample coins, I made no effort to replenish myself. I just sat, staring at nothing because there was nothing else for me to do.
I saw his company from the corner of my eye as they approached the crossroad. I kept my head low and wished to remain unseen, though I watched them warily, discreetly. Men had caused me enough difficulties; I did not need any more trouble.
But I could feel him like the sun shining upon my shoulders, and that feeling stirred something within.
He stopped when he noticed me sitting there.
He was not standing near me, he was still a good ways down the road, far enough that I could have left that spot before he reached me, but I didn’t. While I cowered from the masses, I lifted my head and met his eye boldly. I still cannot say why, his presence just seemed to call my soul and my eyes followed.