Dove: Why indeed? Attention is not required. When the time comes—when the Infinite Soul manifests itself—then most will pay attention. And they will remember what I’ve said—I and other teachers. But even then there will be some who disbelieve—notably those who have lessons to learn that require disbelief. And their disbelief will hold lessons not only for themselves, but for everyone else.
54
Lee knew she had a problem, had suspected it at supper. The girls had been less spontaneous than usual. Then, after dessert, they’d sat a few feet apart on the sofa—sat upright!—reading. Raquel, whose evening it was to be first, had not gone to the computer, and Becca hadn’t asked if she could.
Which made it difficult to concentrate on the News Hour. The Mexican government had collapsed that day, and the Mexican army had taken over. General Montoya was talking good intentions. One might hope. The fighting in Yucatan and Chiapas, and up north in Chihuahua and Sonora, had slackened, but it was unclear whether the rebels were interested in negotiations, or were simply shifting gears.
Ben came from the kitchen after cleaning up, and plopped down in his recliner. Then Becca, as if she’d been waiting, got up soberly from the sofa and walked over to her mother.
“Mom?”
Lee hardened inwardly. It seemed to her she knew what was coming. “Yes?” Her voice was hard.
“I’ve got a question.”
“What is it, dear?” She said it stiffly.
“Well, Dad has finished the Millennium Procedures and started on the Advanced Spectrum. And Raquel and I . . .”
“No!”
Becca continued evenly, but there was hurt and resentment in her eyes. “I am the only child in sixth grade who hasn’t done Life Healing.”
“We went over this last fall. I will not . . .”
Lee stopped herself short of saying “allow you to be brainwashed by this cult.” I am the only child . . . Not all the other kids. Not even the only kid. I am the only child.
Somehow that choice of words hit Lee. And Ben had done Life Healing before she’d met him. Now he’d done far more. And his only fault was, he handled situations smoothly and considerately, though occasionally that irritated her when she thought he should be angry. And there was Mr. M, and the Crow nation, and everyone here including Susan Klein, whom she liked more than any other woman she’d ever known.
She bit her lip and looked at Ben, who pretended to be intent on the News Hour, leaving her on her own.
“The only child,” she echoed.
Becca nodded soberly, and from the sofa came another voice. “I’m the only one who hasn’t in the fifth grade, too, who’s old enough. But that’s all right for a little while. Becca can start first, and when you see it isn’t hurting her, you won’t feel as bad when I ask to.”
Lee looked at her husband, his gaze still on the television. “Oh Ben!” she said, half irked, half plaintive.
He looked at her, smiling slightly. “Why don’t you and I talk about it in private. You can ask questions and I’ll answer them. Maybe it’ll seem less threatening.”
“Or maybe it won’t.”
“True, but you’ll have a clearer sense of what it is you’re—um—protecting them from.”
She wondered what he would have said if the “um” hadn’t saved him. Or her. “Becca, Raquel,” she said tightly, “your father and I are going in the breakfast nook to talk. You will go to your room. Or to the computer room. Do not interrupt us. And don’t get your hopes up!”
“Yes, Mom.” Solemnly.
“We won’t, Mom.” Also solemnly.
Lee led the way into the kitchen area and slid the door closed behind them. Then they sat down across from each other at the table. “All right,” Lee said, “talk.”
After a moment he did, for fifteen minutes. “It might help to evaluate the people who find it useful,” he finished. “Susan and the other teachers you know, and the people you work with.”
She nodded. “And you, most of all. You’re good people, all of you, but . . .” She pressed her lips together.