The Celestine Prophecy: An Adventure Page 9

  “I am very sorry,” the woman said, wiping up the water. “The girl is so clumsy.”

  The young girl exploded, flinging the remaining pie at the woman, missing, and splattering pie and broken china across the middle of the table—just as the proprietor returned.

  The old man shouted and the girl ran from the room.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, hurrying to the table.

  “It’s no problem,” I replied. “Don’t be so hard on the girl.”

  Wil was on his feet, figuring the bill, and we quickly left. Reneau had been quiet, but as we walked through the door and down the steps, he spoke.

  “Did you see that girl?” he asked, looking at me. “She is a classic example of psychological violence. This is what the human need to control others leads to when taken to the extreme. The old man and woman are dominating the girl totally. Did you see how nervous and stooped she was?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But it appears she’s about fed up.”

  “Exactly! Her parents have never let up. And from her point of view she has no choice but to lash out violently. It is the only way she can gain some control for herself. Unfortunately, when she grows up, because of this early trauma, she will think she has to seize control and dominate others with the same intensity. This characteristic will be deeply ingrained and will make her just as dominating as her parents are now, especially when she is around people who are vulnerable, such as children.

  “In fact, this same trauma no doubt happened to her parents before her. They have to dominate now because of the way their parents dominated them. That’s the means through which psychological violence is passed down from one generation to another.”

  Reneau stopped suddenly. “I need to get my sleeping bag out of the truck,” he said. “I’ll be down is a second.”

  I nodded and Wil and I continued toward the campsite.

  “You and Reneau have been talking a lot,” Wil remarked.

  “Yes, we have,” I said.

  He smiled. “Actually Reneau has been doing most of the talking. You listen and answer direct questions but you don’t offer much.”

  “I’m interested in what he has to say,” I said, defensively.

  Wil ignored my tone. “Did you see the energy moving between the members of that family? The man and woman were sucking the child’s energy into themselves until she was almost dead.”

  “I forgot to watch the energy flow,” I said.

  “Well, don’t you think Reneau would like to see it? What do you make of running into him in the first place?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you think it has some meaning? We were driving down the road and you see someone who reminds you of an old friend and when we meet him he happens to also be looking for the Manuscript. Doesn’t that sound beyond coincidence?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perhaps you met so that you could receive some information that will extend your journey here. And doesn’t it follow that perhaps you have some information for him as well?”

  “Yes, I guess so. What do you think I should tell him?”

  Wil again looked at me with his characteristic warmth. “The truth,” he said.

  Before I could say anything else, Reneau came bounding down the path toward us.

  “I brought a flashlight in case we need it later,” he said.

  For the first time I became aware of the twilight and looked west. The sun had already set but the sky was still a bright orange. The few clouds in that direction carried a darker, reddish color. For an instant I thought I saw a whitish field of light around the plants in the foreground, but the image faded.

  “Beautiful sunset,” I said, then noticed Wil had disappeared into his tent and Reneau was pulling his sleeping bag from its case.

  “Yes, it is,” Reneau said distractedly without looking.

  I walked over to where he was working.

  He looked up and said, “I didn’t get to ask you; what insights have you seen?”

  “The first two were only described to me,” I replied. “But we just spent the last two days at the Viciente Lodge, near Satipo. While we were there, one of the people doing research gave me a copy of the Third Insight. It’s pretty amazing.”

  His eyes lit up. “Do you have it with you?”

  “Yes. Do you want to look at it?”

  He jumped at the opportunity and took it into his tent to read. I found some matches and old newspaper and started the fire. After it was burning brightly, Wil crawled out of his tent.

  “Where’s Reneau?” he asked.

  “He’s reading the translation Sarah gave me,” I said.

  Wil walked over and sat on a smooth log someone had placed near the fire area. I joined him. Darkness had finally descended and nothing could be seen except for the bare outline of the trees to our left, the dim lights from the station behind us, and a muted glow from Reneau’s tent. The woods were alive with night sounds, some of which I had never heard before.

  After about thirty minutes, Reneau emerged from his tent, the flashlight in his hand. He walked over and sat at my left. Wil was yawning.

  “That insight is amazing,” he said. “Could anyone there actually see those energy fields?”

  I briefly told him of my experiences, beginning with our arrival and proceeding through the point where I actually saw fields myself.

  He was silent for a minute, then he asked: “They were actually doing experiments where they projected their own energy onto plants and affected the plant’s growth?”

  “It affected their nutritional potency, too,” I said.

  “But the main insight is broader than that,” he commented, almost to himself. “The Third Insight is that the universe on the whole is made up of this energy, and we can affect perhaps not only plants but other things as well, just by what we do with the energy that belongs to us, the part we can control.” He paused for a full minute. “I wonder how we affect other people with our energy?”

  Wil looked at me and smiled.

  “I’ll tell you what I saw,” I said. “I witnessed an argument between two people, and their energies were doing really strange things.”

  Reneau pushed up his glasses again. “Tell me about that.”

  Wil stood up at this point. “I think I need to turn in,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

  We both said good night and Wil entered his tent. Afterward I described as best I could what Sarah and the other scientist had said to each other, emphasizing the action of their energy fields.

  “Now wait a minute,” Reneau said. “You saw their energies pulling at each other, trying to, say, capture each other as they argued?”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  He was thoughtful for a few seconds. “We must analyze this fully. We had two people arguing over who had the correct view of the situation, over who was right—each seeking to win out over the other, even to the point of invalidating the other’s confidence and to outright name calling.”

  Suddenly he looked up. “Yes, this all makes sense!”

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “The movement of this energy, if we can systematically observe it, is a way to understand what humans are receiving when we compete and argue and harm each other. When we control another human being we receive their energy. We fill up at the other’s expense and the filling up is what motivates us. Look, I must learn how to see these energy fields. Where is this Viciente Lodge? How do I get there?”

  I told him the general location but said he would have to ask Wil for specific directions.

  “Yes. I’ll do that tomorrow,” he said with commitment. “For now I should get some sleep. I want to leave as early as possible.”

  He said good night, then disappeared into his tent, leaving me alone with the crackling fire and the night sounds.

  When I awoke, Wil was already out of the tent. I could smell the aroma of hot cereal. I slipped out of my sleeping bag and looked out through the t
ent flap. Wil was holding a pan over the fire. Reneau was nowhere to be seen, and his tent was gone.

  “Where’s Reneau?” I asked, climbing out and walking over to the fire.

  “He’s already packed up,” Wil said. “He’s up there working on his truck, getting ready so he can leave as soon as his part comes in.”

  Wil handed me a bowl of oatmeal and we sat on one of the logs to eat.

  “Did you two stay up late talking?” Wil asked.

  “Not really,” I said. “I told him all I knew.”

  Just then we heard sounds from the path. Reneau was hurriedly walking down to us.

  “I am all prepared,” he said. “I must say good-bye.”

  After several minutes of conversation, Reneau walked back up the steps and left. Wil and I took turns bathing and shaving in the station owner’s bathroom, then we packed our gear, filled the vehicle with gas, and departed, heading north.

  “How far is Cula?” I asked.

  “We should be there before nightfall if we’re lucky,” he said, then added, “So what did you learn from Reneau?”

  I looked closely at him. He seemed to be looking for a specific answer. “I don’t know,” I said.

  “What conception did Reneau leave you with?”

  “That we humans, although we are unconscious of it, have the tendency to control and dominate others. We want to win the energy that exists between people. It builds us up somehow, makes us feel better.”

  Wil was looking straight ahead at the road. He looked as if he was suddenly thinking of something else.

  “Why do you ask?” I inquired. “Is this the Fourth Insight?”

  He looked at me. “Not quite. You have seen the energy flow between people. But I’m not sure you know how it feels when it happens to you.”

  “Then tell me how it feels!” I said, growing exasperated. “You accuse me of not talking! Getting information out of you is like pulling teeth! I’ve been trying for days to find out more about your past experiences with the Manuscript, and all you do is put me off.”

  He laughed, then shot me a smile. “We had a deal, remember? I have a reason for being secretive. One of the insights concerns how to interpret the events of one’s past life. It is a process of becoming clear about who you are, what you are here on this planet to do. I want to wait until we reach this insight before we discuss my background, okay?”

  I smiled at his adventurous tone. “Yeah, I guess.”

  For the remainder of the morning we rode in silence. The day was sunny and the sky blue. Occasionally, as we proceeded higher into the mountains, thick clouds would float across our path, covering the windshield with moisture. Around noon, we pulled over at an overlook that afforded a spectacular view of the mountains and valleys to the east.

  “Are you hungry?” Wil asked.

  I nodded and he pulled two carefully wrapped sandwiches from a bag on the back seat. After he handed me one of them, he asked, “What do you think about this view.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  He smiled slightly and stared at me, giving me the impression that he was observing my energy field.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Just looking,” he said. “Mountain peaks are special places that can build energy in whomever sits on them. You look as though you have an affinity for mountain overlooks.”

  I told Wil of my grandfather’s valley and of the ridge overlooking the lake and how it had made me feel alert and energized the same day Charlene had arrived.

  “Perhaps growing up there,” he said, “prepared you for something here, now.”

  I was about to ask him more about the energy that mountains provide when he added, “When a virgin forest is on a mountain, the energy is amplified even more.”

  “Is the virgin forest we’re headed for on a mountain?” I asked.

  “Look for yourself,” he said. “You can see it.”

  He pointed toward the east. Miles away, I could see two ridges which ran parallel to each other for what looked like several miles, then they converged, forming a V shape. In the space between the two ridges lay what looked like a small town, and at the vortex, the point where the two ridges met, the mountain rose sharply and butted off into a rocky summit. The summit appeared slightly higher than the ridge we were on and the area around its base seemed much greener, as though covered with lush foliage.

  “That area of green?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Wil said. “It’s like Viciente, yet more powerful and special.”

  “How is it special?”

  “It facilitates one of the other insights.”

  “How?” I asked.

  He started the jeep and pulled back onto the road. “I’m betting,” he said, “that you will find out.”

  Neither of us said much more for an hour or so, then I drifted off to sleep. Sometime later Wil was shaking my arm.

  “Wake up,” he said. “We’re coming into Cula.”

  I sat up in the seat. Ahead of us, in a valley where two roads came together, was a small town. On both sides were the two ridges we had seen. The trees on the ridges seemed as large as those at Viciente and spectacularly green.

  “I want to tell you something before we drive in there,” he said. “In spite of the energy of this forest, this town is a lot less civilized than other areas of Peru. It’s known as a place to get information about the Manuscript, but the last time I was here, it was full of greedy types who didn’t feel the energy and didn’t understand the insights. They merely wanted the money or recognition they might get by discovering the Ninth.”

  I looked at the village. It consisted of four or five streets and avenues. Larger frame buildings lined the two main roads that crossed in the center of town, but the other streets were little more than alleyways lined by small dwellings. Parked at the cross-roads were perhaps a dozen off-the-road vehicles and trucks.

  “Why are all these people here?” I asked.

  He smiled daringly. “Because it’s one of the last places to get gas and supplies before going deeper into the mountains.”

  He started the jeep and drove slowly into town, then stopped in front of one of the larger buildings. I couldn’t read the Spanish signs but from the products in the window I presumed it was a grocery and hardware.

  “Wait here for a minute,” he said. “I want to go in for a few things.”

  I nodded and Wil disappeared inside. As I looked around, a truck pulled up across the street and several people got out. One was a dark-haired woman in a fatigue jacket. To my amazement, I realized it was Marjorie. She and a young man in his early twenties crossed the street and walked right in front of me.

  I opened my door and got out. “Marjorie,” I yelled.

  She stopped and looked around, then saw me and smiled. “Hello,” she said. As she began to walk toward me, the young man grabbed her arm.

  “Robert told us not to talk with anyone,” he said very softly, trying not to let me overhear.

  “It’s okay,” she said, “I know this person. Go on in.”

  He looked at me skeptically, then backed away and went into the store. I tried then, in a stuttering way, to explain what had happened between us at the gardens. She laughed, and told me Sarah had related everything to her. She was about to say something else when Wil walked out with a handful of supplies.

  I introduced them, and we all talked for a few minutes as Wil placed the supplies in the back of the jeep.

  “I have an idea,” Wil said. “Let’s get something else to eat across the street.”

  I looked over at what appeared to be a small cafe. “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  “I don’t know,” Marjorie said. “I need to leave soon. My ride.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Back to the west a couple of miles. I’ve come up to visit a group studying the Manuscript.”

  “We can take you back later, after dinner,” Wil commented.

  “Well, I guess that
will be okay.”

  Wil looked at me, “I have one more thing to pick up. You two go ahead and order and I’ll order something when I get there. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  We agreed, and Marjorie and I waited as several trucks passed. Wil walked down the street to the south. Suddenly the young man with whom Marjorie had arrived walked out of the store and confronted us again.

  “Where are you going?” he said, holding her arm.

  “This is a friend of mine,” she replied. “We’re going to eat and then he can run me back later.”

  “Look, you can’t trust anyone up here. You know Robert wouldn’t approve.”

  “It’s okay,” she said.

  “I want you to come with me, now!”

  I took his arm and pulled it off Marjorie. “You heard what she told you,” I said. He stepped back and looked at me, suddenly appearing very timid. He turned and walked back into the store.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  We walked across the street and into the small diner. The eating area consisted of one room and just eight tables and was permeated with the smell of grease and smoke. I spotted an unoccupied table on the left. As we walked over, several people glanced up at us for an instant, then returned to what they were doing.

  The waitress spoke only Spanish, but Marjorie knew the language well and ordered for us both. Afterward, Marjorie looked at me warmly.

  I grinned at her. “Who is that guy you were with?”

  “That’s Kenny,” she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Thanks for helping.”

  She was looking directly into my eyes, and her comment made me feel wonderful. “How did you get connected with that group?” I asked.

  “Robert Jensen is an archaeologist. He’s formed a group to study the Manuscript and to search for the Ninth Insight. He came by Viciente a few weeks back, then again a couple of days ago… I …”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Well, I was in a relationship at Viciente that I wanted to get away from. Then I met Robert and he was so charming and what he was doing seemed so interesting. He convinced me that our research at the gardens would be enhanced by the Ninth Insight, and that he was on his way to find it. He said searching for this insight would be the most exciting thing he has ever done, and when he offered me a place on his team for a few months I decided to accept…” She paused again and looked down at the table. She appeared uncomfortable so I changed the subject.