Chapter 26: Vitelli’s End

Marilee came through the front door with Graydon right behind her. They stopped in the kitchen doorway. Her parents sat at the table with Fr. Ambrose, his back to the two young people. When he saw Frank’s eyes lift toward the doorway, Fr. Ambrose rose from his chair and strode forward, extending his hand.

“Good evening, Marilee. It is good to see you again. Who is this young man with you?”

Marilee blushed shyly. She turned to bring Graydon alongside.

“This is Graydon Williams, our friend. He’s helped us so much! Graydon, this is Father Ambrose, our family priest.”

Ambrose extended his hand to grip Graydon’s: the two locked eyes and time seemed to freeze. Ambrose instantly remembered the moment he first encountered his mentor, many years ago, when he sensed the depth of the elder man’s intellect and spirit. That gaze had been returned in measure when the elder recognized his student.

Ambrose felt himself studied in the young man’s gaze. He sensed a mind that had recently grown to power, but he also saw a reflection of something timeless, ancient, as if older eyes weighed and judged him through the eyes of this unusual youth.

Graydon, in turn, recognized a lifetime of dedication and sanctity in this old man’s soul. His face was deeply wrinkled and weary but his eyes were strong, clear, and confident. They were windows to a soul at peace with itself.

The moment passed so quickly that the others in the room missed it, yet in a single instant a bond of respect and trust had formed in that simple handshake.

“It is my pleasure to meet you, Father. I have heard nothing but praise from my elders for all the good things you have accomplished in the valley.”

“Bless you, young man. Graydon, is your name? It is most assuredly my delight to meet you. I sense that we have friends and more in common between us. I believe we will see much of each other before all is done.”

Frank puzzled at this development. He could hazily see the aura of the two, bright and strong around them. When they met their auras seemed to merge and swirl and come away with some of each now shared with the other.

How odd, he thought. Did I really see that, or is my mind finally giving way to the upheaval of this last year?

“Mom, Dad, what’s going on?”

“Nothing much, pumpkin, except we’ve been enjoying Father Ambrose’s company.”

“Well, its good to see you, Father Ambrose. Graydon and I just walked back from downtown. We had a soda at the drugstore. Mom, I brought the mail back from the Post Office. Graydon has to get back to Winthrop. He’s got a ride that will meet him downtown in a little while.”

Marilee excused herself, smiled at Graydon and stood up on tiptoe to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. They blushed while the parents chuckled, amused. She scampered from the kitchen.

“Father Ambrose, are you going back to your chapel soon?” Graydon asked.

“Why, yes ... as a matter of fact, I was just leaving,” Ambrose replied. “Frank, Madeline, please excuse me, and thank you so much for your time and the use of your telephone. I’ll be in touch very soon, and please, don’t be concerned. All will be well, I’m sure.”

“Could I offer you a ride downtown, young man?”

Graydon nodded yes and the two shook hands with Frank, said goodbye to Madeline, and left the house. Graydon seated himself in Fr. Ambrose’s ancient Ford sedan, but before he could close the door the elderly priest moved his finger to his lips and motioned Graydon to silence.

“I fear we may be watched; there is one who may have helpers about, who is struggling mightily to learn secrets we’d rather he not know. We’d best keep our silence for now. I’ll take you downtown, and let you out so you can catch your ride. But I’d like you to visit a mutual friend of ours. I believe you are very close to the Brightmans, is that correct?”

Graydon was slightly startled, but maintained an indifferent expression. He guessed that Fr. Ambrose was well acquainted with everyone in the valley and would know that his family lived close to the Brightman ranch.

“Yes, Father, of course I know them.”

Fr. Ambrose settled himself in the driver’s seat and the old car moved down the subdivision street, toward the hillside lane that curved down and around to the tributary river road and into town.

“Very good. Please visit James Brightman as soon as you can. He will have information for you that I sense you must know, if all is to come out as it should. This information most seriously concerns the three of you, and the sooner we are prepared, the better is our chance for avoiding a great difficulty.” Fr. Ambrose smiled across at Graydon, seeing the young man’s instant astonishment. Yes, he thought to himself, this young man is no one’s fool. He heard me say “three” and he is quickly coming to the right conclusions.

For his part, Graydon was lost in a whirl of thoughts while the old car rattled along, leaving an embarrassing swirl of blue oil smoke behind. Jim and Mike both nagged Ambrose to use some of the charity money to replace the car with something newer, but he refused. “As long as our good Lord sees fit to keep this one running, I’m satisfied to drive her,” Fr. Ambrose retorted with his small smile. “I am used to this one; she suits me. She’s old and tired, like myself, and I’ll not reward her faithful service with a trip to the junkyard, thank you both very much!” And that was the only answer they would get, no matter how they pleaded and cajoled with the old priest.

“Yes, young man. I know your shaman friend very well. I would never utter this outside of this moving vehicle, and I know that you keep a cautious tongue as well. But we both know, since our meeting today, that we’re involved in something much greater than the average eye would see. Please meet with James and your mentor as soon as possible. There is much to be decided, and very little time for us to act.”

Graydon remained silent until they arrived at the corner store where he found his friend waiting. He was quiet for the entire ride back to Winthrop. His soul rejoiced, for some reason he couldn’t quite understand, but he had the odd feeling he’d looked through a window to see a glorious light shining from a new direction.

The dreamscape opened into a mountain meadow. A soft wind, a gentle sun, and a calm sky illumined a peaceful landscape surrounding them as he stood face to face with his soul mate. He held her small hands in his. He saw himself reflected in her calm, beautiful eyes.

The moment changed when his spirit guide, the night hawk, swooped down beside them and fluttered before their upturned faces. Both of them saw the small bird with the bright eyes.

Both of us? Graydon started, shocked that Marilee was standing beside him in this dream and his spirit companion appeared to her, openly. How is this? What does this imply?

She knows, young shaman. She knows your secrets, your soul, the very essence of your being. This is the meaning of soul mate. It should be no surprise to you. From the moment you accepted her love, she agreed to walk this path with you. She will remain by your side for time and eternity. She will not falter nor doubt; she will truly be your strong half, your sure reserve of strength when the trail becomes faint and difficult, and the way seems too hard to continue. She will not let your steps turn aside. She will know the certainty of your love for her, your skill and good heart and your devotion to your purpose. She and you are the two wings of a soaring bird, strong in life and eternal in spirit. Never doubt, never forget, never falter.

The night hawk faded from view. Graydon gazed upon the face of his love, and she at his. They walked a short distance and found a lichen-covered granite shelf at trail’s edge, a natural bench that overlooked a golden valley with a silver river winding down its length. They sat and waited.