January to January: A Journal

September

September 3

I was back in Rabbit God's garden. It was a lemony afternoon with a sprightly breeze in the air, filled with drifting blossoms like they were floating on an invisible river current. There were birdsongs too, but I couldn't see any birds. Instead of bunnies hopping about, butterflies of various hues flittered to and fro amongst exotic flowers in full bloom. I found the stone table empty. I sat down and waited, enjoying the bucolic scene around me without regard to the time.

Suddenly, there was a swirling pink cloud in front of me, with tiny pinpricks of diamond light. It coalesced into a rough form before blazing too bright for my eyes (though sight was an illusion in this Dreamland). When I blinked again, Rabbit God was smiling at me, all serene and dazzling with unearthly radiance. I had a feeling it was an unnecessarily theatrical show of ability, meant to impress lesser mortals.

He wasted no time. "I'm glad you're safe. The threads have been well sorted out already. Again, my apologies."

"It's not your fault, actually. It's mine," I sputtered immediately as Rabbit God dipped his head in a short bow.

Rabbit God looked up, eyes blinking in a comical "huh?" expression. "I heard your prayer, and was confused when I received it. How was it your fault?"

"I...I stalked the poor guy, and helped him up in the lobby at work when he fell down. I guess that was when our threads entwined," I sighed, not daring to look at the god toward whom I had expressed such ire and indignation before.

"Oh," Rabbit God said as he placed a gold-manicured finger on his pink lips. "That would make sense, but not enough by itself...oh well, let's just say we each contributed to the issue, and we resolved it mutually. How's that?"

I smiled my acquiescence. Rabbit God clapped his hands with glee. Instantly a tea set appeared. This time it was an odd mix of delicate jade teacups beside a fluted alabaster...thing (looked like abstract art belonging to a museum or gallery instead of a Chinese garden) that took the place of a teapot, and a whole variety of other instruments which I knew from past lessons as a student was part and parcel of a formal tea set for guests. The toolkit though was all off: many of the pieces were silver and European in design. Anyway, I just watched the whole process of preparing tea. Rabbit God seemed to be so immersed in it, he had a serious expression broken only by a juvenile act of biting his lower lip, and ultimately giving off the vibe of a student concentrating on an important exam.

I giggled at the image of a millennia-old god with adolescent mannerisms. He looked up and cocked his head to one side. I was again expecting rabbit ears to pop right out of his head. His questioning expression turned to mirth as he must have read my mind and he giggled along with me. When the older generations comment on how strange the ways of gods were, this must be what they meant. Wise beyond measure one moment, carrying the burden of the turning of time on their shoulders. Then in another breath, they turned more carefree than the butterflies flitting about, engrossed in what seemed like play.

"Well put! Well put!" he laughed.

"Rabbit God, can you not...I mean," I said in deference. I was beginning to get disconcerted by the strengthening telepathy between us. Or rather, the one-way telepathic bond he seemed to be enjoying and which I am not.

"Oh! Pardon! So sorry! It's so rude of me!" he suddenly exclaimed before I could finish. He bowed again with raised sleeves, the tea ceremony forgotten. "It's been most exciting having you here in my garden. Very few mortals have the capacity to stay and chat with me." He sighed.

"Really?" It perked my curiosity. Surely I wasn't the only mortal to have had the pleasure of interacting with this most curious god!

"Well, it's been so long," he sighed again, with eyes sparkling off into the mists of time. It looked like he developed cataracts all of a sudden. "The last one must have been about two centuries ago. I forget the manners of the times. While my workload has somewhat risen in the past century or so, most of the prayers were addressed so generally to the universe, that it takes some time for it to be sorted out to me."