The Seventh Direction

PART THREE: Stalking Violet. Episode 47

                                                                                   ["D/A" narrates —A.A.]

I was grinning at Bluebird's ----tap-tap-tap----  tapping and at Master' J's "New code" said Aces' chair,  when Crabtree burst through the door, slammed on the brakes and said: "Something funny?" She looked down at her uniform. Maybe she'd spilled something and I was laughing at her? She lifted her eyes and looked at me weird. I pointed to the window. Bluebird was jumping up and down, up and down, spinning in circles, his wings sporadically flapping—a blue cartoon in the light of the Moon! "Oh-h," she said. "I see," she said, doubtful queer look on her face. "Is that a . . . friend?" I bobble-headed, side to side, as if unsure and trying to decide; then nodded up and down, wider grin. She poured me a glass of water. "Really? Here—" she said, suspiciously, then clunked the jug down on the night table, and scurried out. Master J' instantly resumed his place, seated in Aces' chair. I glanced at the window. Bluebird was gone.

"Faithless," he said, he was grinning too. (There IS something about humor, isn't there?)

"Will you teach me how to do that?" I asked.

"I already am," he said, then became serious. "But you know, usually it's a step by step thing. No more leaps, for a while? Not till you're fully prepared and Love again says so?"

There was at least one good clue in his last statement, and a probable-question or two that I should ask. But my next query: "Master J', what is it about humor that makes me feel so good?" brought the smile back to his face.

"It is a bit of a mystery, isn't it?" he said, "and magical the way it opens us up, sometimes puts us in The Zone. Eclectic. Electric."

My eyes bulged. "If . . . for a moment . . ." he dithered, "we could be Christmas Trees—" And wouldn't you know it, he did it! Aces' chair and he became the best decorated Tree I'd ever seen! Then he said: "Now make me laugh and watch me light up!"

But I couldn't. I was too blown away to do anything other than stare! He laughed and lit up anyway, a moment, two . . . Then, back to normal, he pinched out a last bulb that had snuck back with him. "I'm not perfect!" he said. "Now into bed with you and I'll speak to your earlier doubt and fear . . . and—" he paused, as if listening to something "—address once more your new time-line and initiate a safeguard."

"You mean my doubt and fear of getting stuck in Dreamtime before I'm ready to go?"

"Right," he said, paused again. "Umm . . . I have to go somewhere. Stay where you are."

"Where you going?" I said. Master J'—like I was going to take off on him.

Another pause, likely for good measure. "Have to steal something."

"You, steal?"

"Ummmmm . . . yes."

"Can I come?" How exciting, I thought.

Indecision, then he said, "Why not?"

"Where are we going, and what are we going to steal?"

"You'll see. And we're going to the other time-line. Don't get too close to Dorothy."

"Because I might get—"

"Precisely," he said.

"How close is close?" He spread his hands out to about three feet. "Oh, I can do that."