by
 

 

 

We were about to leave Antaris in the Mother Ship.  This was a huge bell-shaped ship, about half the size of our city on Antaris.  Before takeoff, the ship’s lights were turned on, and encircled the ship like sparkling, dazzling belts.  I stood next to MuOr, ready for the journey.

I saw sights I had never seen before.  The domes of Antaris looked different than they had looked until now.  They glittered in shining blue and their rounded tops looked like a silvery coating.  I continued to gaze at the domes for a long time.  Being outside the domes demanded a great deal of energy expenditure.  Inside the domes there were always conditions that enabled us to preserve our Core of Energy without effort, but outside the domes we occasionally needed to balance the energy in our bodies by using special techniques. 

I received a telepathic message from MuOr, “focus your energy, ElTa.”  I focused my energy, and when relaxation came, I found that I was inside the Mother Ship, receiving another message from MuOr.  “You did that well, ElTa, my child.”  I clung to his hand without transmitting any answer. 

The journey began.  During the voyage the commander of the Mother Ship explained that before we entered the Earth’s atmosphere we would need to transfer to the daughter ships, which are small, flat ships kept in the rear section of the Mother Ship.  We went back and entered one of the daughter ships through a small flight of stairs.  The commanding officer of the Mother Ship stood at the foot of the stairs and wished us farewell.

The people of Antaris have a special way of greeting and saying goodbye to each other: they wave their right hand, holding pinky and thumb up and their three middle fingers down.  When my turn came, I used the same gesture to part from the commanding officer.  MuOr took out the Koren [4], which is a transformer that radiates life energy.  Then he encircled my body with it.  I closed my eyes and its energy merged with my Core of Energy.  The next thing I knew, we had landed on Earth.

 

*   *   *  

 

One morning I arrived in MuOr’s chamber.  I had no idea that on that day my fate would be sealed, and the entire essence of my existence would be changed. 

MuOr received me lovingly, smiled at me as usual, and said, “Today we are expecting guests.  Prince MuNa’aTuba from OroiVu is arriving with two envoys to seek my advice regarding the composition of a crystal.  “MuNa’aTuba is a great healer and an extremely talented man.  Most of his knowledge has been acquired from our people.  We must prepare for their arrival, ElTa.”

That day MuOr was not occupied with studying the piece of rock as usual.  I cleaned his work area meticulously, and made sure that all the crystals and stones were in their appropriate places, working more than usual arranging them according to their frequencies. 

“Our guests are about to arrive,” said MuOr, and sat down at his desk.  I took a seat next to him.  We did not speak, but MuOr transmitted frequencies to me that helped calm me.  A knock sounded on the door, and when it opened three men entered the chamber.  I looked at them and my eyes rested on the man who at the center. 

At that moment I felt an explosion in my Core of Energy.  I could not take my eyes off him.  The three men were attractive, but the man in the middle was astonishingly handsome.  He wore a long white robe and a wide blue belt with delicate gold threads woven through it.  His shoulders were covered with a crimson cloak, and he wore elaborate sandals.  He wore a crown with two yellow feathers.  His smooth, shiny black skin reminded me of the beautiful onyx stones that I had handled so often.  His eyes were large and wise, his nose was vivacious, and his lips, which parted in a little smile, were particularly beautiful and sensuous. 

My entire Core of Energy trembled with the intensity of the frequency that was emitted from this black man.  I felt my heart pounding in a way that I had never felt before, and it threatened to burst out of my chest.    

The man to his left took a step forward and announced, “The Royal Prince MuNa’aTuba of OroiVu wishes to convey greetings to MuOr, and to express gratitude for agreeing to devote his time and meet with him.”  As he spoke he bowed deeply, and the prince and the other envoy bowed as well.

MuOr rose from his chair, approached the three men, placed his right hand on the shoulder of each, and then turned to the prince, saying, “A long time has gone by since we last met, MuNa’aTuba.  I am very pleased to see you.  We will sit and you will tell me how I can help you.  But first let me introduce ElTa from Antaris.  She works with me, but in another few days she will be returning home.  ElTa has an incredible talent for working with energy frequencies.”

 The prince approached me, bowed, and silently returned to his place.  His two envoys did the same.  The man to the left of the prince spoke again, “The Royal Prince MuNa’aTuba from OroiVu greets you, honorable ElTa from Antaris.”

When the prince of OroiVu was near me I felt as if I was being drawn and engulfed in his body and energy. 

MuOr led the three men to a large round table at the end of the chamber, and I accompanied them.  I was grateful to him for doing this at the proper time, since I did not know how to behave in such circumstances. 

I don’t know how long the prince’s visit with MuOr continued, but I could not take my eyes off his handsome face for the entire time.  His intense energy continued to flow straight to my Core of Energy, and my heart yearned for him.  Every movement he made was more like dancing than walking.  His body moved regally, and even the movements of his hands had a charming gracefulness.  While the four men talked I listened to the voice of prince MuNa’aTuba, which was deep and pleasing to my ears.  I did not listen to what they were saying, but only gazed at the prince’s face and listened to the melody of his voice. 

The meeting ended and the three men prepared to leave.  MuOr said goodbye to them, and the prince and his two envoys parted from me silently.  Nothing was said between prince MuNa’aTuba and me, but my eyes followed him until he left MuOr’s chamber. 

I sat down on my seat next to MuOr’s desk.  I was unable to comprehend or understand the impression that the black prince had left on me.  After I recovered from his intense energy I turned to MuOr and asked, “Tell me about prince MuNa’aTuba.  He is so black and beautiful.  I have never seen anyone with black skin like his.  Something very strange happened to me when I saw him.  My heart began to pound and I felt him in my Core of Energy.  I don’t understand what is means.  I only know that my heart yearns for him.” 

MuOr sat down next to me and remained quiet for some time.  I did not disturb him.  Finally he rose, went to the closet in the eastern wall of his chamber, and pushed aside a sliding door.  A shining ray of light streamed out of the closet.  MuOr reached inside and took out his telefi-communicator [5] – a pair of small square boxes made of translucent gray metal.  A thin flexible strap made of the same metallic material was attached to the boxes.  MuOr wrapped the strap around his left arm seven times, placed the communication device on his forehead between his eyebrows, and then wrapped the end of the strap three more times around his middle finger.

I had already seen a similar communication device on Antaris.  It was used for communicating with Earth, and people used it only when there was an important or urgent message to be conveyed. 

The device began to emit a sparkling bluish light, and I knew that communication had been established with Antaris.  When the transmission ended MuOr folded the device carefully, wrapped the strap meticulously around the box, and returned it to its place in the closet.  After the door closed I could no longer see that there was a closet in the wall.

MuOr poured himself a cup of his favorite herbal brew, poured another for me, and came back to sit beside me.  After we drank he turned to me and said, “ElTa, my child, you asked me to tell you about Prince MuNa’aTuba.”

 “Yes, dear MuOr, tell me all you know.” 

“Mu is divided into seven large provinces, in which ten different peoples live. Each of them has an independent government headed by a representative who is called a king.  All the peoples live under one leadership and government headed by Ra-Mu.  Matters of primary importance or those that are liable to influence several peoples are always discussed and decided by Ra-Mu in the presence of all the representatives.  Prince MuNa’aTuba comes from a province known as OroiVu, far away from the capital city of Duarta.  All the people of OroiVu have black skin.  But there are other different races living on Mu. 

“MuNa’aTuba’s father is king of the province of OroiVu.  He is a noble man and very wise, and our people have had very close contact with him.  When he leaves his body his son and heir will become the next king.  MuNa’aTuba is his only son.”

 

*   *   *  

I spent the next few days doing what I usually did while my time to depart for Antaris drew nearer.  I helped MuOr in his chamber, read, went for walks, and swam with my good friends the dolphins and sea turtles.

It was another bright sunny day, and I walked to place on the beach where I usually went.  At the end of a row of tall date palms was a large rock that appeared to be leaning over to dive into the clear water.  I would climb onto the broad top of the rock to sit and call to my friends the dolphins and the sea turtles.  I held my sandals in my hands, since I liked to walk barefoot and feel the warm touch of the sand on the soles of my feet. 

Suddenly I stopped and caught my breath.  I saw three figures approaching, and I immediately recognized the middle figure.  He was tall and black, wrapped in a white robe and crimson cloak, and was walking towards me with the same noble stride.  I could not be mistaken.  It was prince MuNa’aTuba with his two envoys walking beside him. 

I stood rooted to the spot with my eyes fixed on the face of the prince as he approached me.  His energies merged with mine even before he took me into his strong arms.  The flow of energy increased with each step the prince took towards me, and then I felt his arms gathering me to his warm, broad chest.  We said nothing to each other, but there was no need for words.  There was only our joined energy that played a dizzying melody.  His hands stroked my back and then caressed my face and hair.  MuOr would also caress my hair sometimes, but the way the prince did it was different. 

I wanted to engrave that moment into eternity, but when the prince embraced me eternity was already engraved into that moment, and I heard his voice speaking from within that eternity.  This time it was different from when I had first heard it in MuOr’s chamber.  His voice sounded melodious, and his words enveloped me. 

“My beautiful ElTa, daughter of Antaris, since the day I first saw you in MuOr’s chamber I have had no day or night, and I have not been able to perform my duties.  The vision of you never leaves my mind, and my heart yearns for you.”

“My heart yearns for you too, and if all that is happening within me since I first saw you mean that it is love, than I do love you, dear prince, I love you very much.”

 MuNa’aTuba continued to embrace me and caress my body, and I melted into his arms.  I felt his soft, warm lips against mine, and my entire being flowed with this new and wonderful experience.  Thousands of Cores of Energy exploded in my body, and there was a dizzying buzzing in my head.  I joined my energies with his, not knowing that a joining of another kind was yet to come. 

As he took my hand in his he said softly, “If you love me and wish to entwine your life with mine, then marry me and be my beloved wife and queen.  I want you beside me and for you to become a part of my life.  Without you my life will be empty, without taste and without love. 

“I have already spoken with MuOr and asked if he will agree to our marriage.  He said that I must first speak with you, and he told me where I could find you.  He said that he will agree to our marriage if you truly love me and if you wish to marry me.  MuOr is waiting for us in his chamber.  Will you go to him with me now, my love?”

“Yes, my prince, I will go with you.  Let us go to his chamber.”

MuNa’aTuba took my hand in his, and we walked hand in hand on the beach, with his two envoys following several paces behind us. 

 

*   *   *  

 

The day of the wedding arrived. 

Dear MuOr and MuRazi both came, and I was overjoyed. 

From the early hours of the morning wonderful music could be heard everywhere, intermingled with the ringing of bells to form a magical symphony.  The women came to my chamber bearing my white dress and jewelry, and began to dress me.  My dress was made of delicate white material, and when I put it on I was wrapped in tiny folds like ripples of water.  A light blue ribbon was placed on my left shoulder and tied delicately at my right hip.  A gold belt woven with light blue threads was wrapped about my waist, and I wore golden sandals on my feet.  My fingers were decorated with diamond rings that sparkled like stars on a clear night, and I wore a diamond necklace and diamond earrings.  A crown shaped like a lotus flower studded with diamonds and other precious gems was placed on my head. 

The women accompanied me to the splendid hall in the palace.  When we arrived the prince was already waiting for me.  For a moment I caught my breath.  He stood there more beautiful than ever – tall, black and noble, dressed in white.  The thin golden threads that were woven delicately into the white cloth of his garments sparkled in the rays of the sun that penetrated the clear dome of the great hall.  He wore a gold circlet on his forehead studded with diamonds and gold bracelets on his wrists.  I was stunned by his shimmering beauty.  The combination of his silken black skin and the gold, diamonds, and shining white material of his garments created a wonderful harmony of color, beauty and magic that resounded like chords throughout my soul.  I could not take my eyes away from my prince.

The prince walked proudly, leading me to the ceremonial place where four magnificently dressed men were standing.  One of them carried a folded white cloth, and the three others began to help him unfold it.  I could see that the cloth was similar to the talit [6] that our people wore. 

The four men spread the cloth and lifted it above their heads, creating a canopy.  The prince led me to it, and when we were both standing underneath it, the ceremony began.

The priest encircled me seven times, like the way the People of Universe did when they wanted to complete the Circle of Energy.  I didn’t understand many of the words spoken by the priest during the ceremony, but when it was over I understood that he had declared us husband and wife.  The prince placed another ring on the finger of my left hand and announced that the name Mu would now be added to my name.  From now on my name in OroiVu would be ElTa-Mu.

The prince embraced me and added, “This is the happiest day of my life, ElTaMu, my beloved wife.”

*   *   *  

 

 

I will never forget that happy day when I was able to take our third child to the beach on Mu and introduce him to my friends the dolphins and turtles.  But on that particular day the dolphins behaved strangely and were not eager to play with AnTa and Ra as usual.  They came to swim beside them and acquainted themselves with the baby, but they did not dance their special dance around us.  Their calls were very strange, and AnTa and little Ra began to cry loudly.  I understood the distress that the dolphins were trying to convey, and my children perceived it as well, since they understood their language.

I cradled my baby in one arm and held my two older children against my thighs with the other, trying to assess the source of the dolphins’ distress, but they swam up to us, made their sounds, and immediately swam away from the shore.  I knew that they were trying to tell me something, and I preferred to doubt my ability to understand their language.  I was filled with apprehension because I knew that the dolphins were never wrong.  They swam away and did not come back. 

I gathered my children and started back to the palace.  On the way back I received a telepathic message from MuOr telling me to come to his chamber without delay.  My heart began to pound.  I knew that something very serious had happened.  MuOr had never used telepathy to call me to his chamber before.  When I arrived at the palace a vehicle belonging to the People of Universe was already waiting for me.  Within minutes the vehicle arrived at the entrance to the House of Learning in Duarta.  I arrived at MuOr’s chamber at a run.  It was clear that MuOr was distressed, just as my friends the dolphins had been earlier on that bright, sunny morning, when it seemed that nothing could go amiss. 

MuOr kissed the top of my head and said that MuRazi was waiting for us in the main chamber, which could only be entered by People of Universe and elders. 

MuRazi stood in the chamber wearing garments that I had never seen any of the People of Universe wear before.  He wore a two-piece silver suit, and over his shirt he ware an ephod[1][6][5], upon which was a rectangular metal breastplate called a hoshen[2][8][6] with twelve sparkling gems in various colors.  He wore a communication device on his forehead like the one MuOr had used to communicate with Antaris.  Various symbols were engraved on the shoulders and sleeves of his suit, including the symbol of Antaris. 

“Let us sit, child,” MuOr whispered.  We sat down in the deep chairs in the great chamber.  There was silence for a moment, and then I heard his voice again saying, “ElTa dear, it is very difficult for me to tell you that before sunset tomorrow we must leave Mu.”  His words pierced my being like a bolt of lightening.  My senses clouded, and I visualized my children and my prince, and the dolphins.

MuOr perceived my confusion and took my hand, attempting to calm me, but continued on.  “We don’t have much time, ElTa dear, and I must therefore be explicit and straightforward in what I have to tell you.  For a long time I have been studying the strata of the continent of Mu on which our people and the other People of Universe have built their Sun base.  During the course of my research I have discovered gasses far below the surface that are endangering the entire continent.

“When I began my research I thought that the situation was not so critical, and I rejected my hypothesis that the continent of Mu was in real danger.  If I had feared that possibility, I would never have brought you here.  But during the past few months I have collected data that clearly shows that the activity of these gasses has greatly increased.  Cracks have already been created in several places in the continent’s upper crust, and the Great Water has already begun to pour in and flood entire areas.  I was still sure that these phenomena were only local, and that this beautiful place was not destined to be lost.

“It appears that I have become attached to this place more than I thought I would.  I wanted to refute my conclusions, because I thought of you and your children and the prince, but the facts are too strong to deny.  This morning MuRazi verified my conclusions.  The continent of Mu, our Sun base, is about to be destroyed.  When the gasses erupt the continent will be rocked by earthquakes.  It will split into thousands of pieces, tongues of fire will engulf it, and everything that is left will sink to the bottom of the Great Water in one final immense cataclysm. 

“There are forces in nature and in the universe that no technology can control.  Even our technology, or any other technology a thousand times more sophisticated than ours, cannot control them.  They can only be controlled by divine forces.  

“My dear child, we must leave this continent.  If we do not, we are destined to die.” 

I listened to what MuOr was saying through a fog.  My senses were dulled, and I could not speak.  I looked into MuRazi’s eyes, as if asking him to change this terrible news, but MuRazi sent me a clear telepathic message:

“We must leave immediately, ElTaMu.  You must prepare your children and husband.  Our vehicles will take you to the square in front of our House of Study, and from there we will leave in the flat ships.  They will collect seventy people, which is all that we can take.”

“Only seventy people?” I gasped.

“Most of the ships will be going back to our own planets.  There is room for many more than seventy people, but we will not be going back to Antaris.  We will be going in another direction, and we can only take seventy people there with us.” 

“We will not be returning to Antaris?” I asked tearfully.

“No, ElTa dear,” MuRazi answered firmly. 

I turned to MuOr and after a minute that seemed endless I asked him, “Where will you be going, MuOr?”

The dear man patted my hand warmly and answered “Yes, I can return to Antaris.  Most of the People of Universe will board the Mother Ship and return to their home planets, but MuRazi and I have chosen a different alternative.  I have chosen not to go back to Antaris, mainly because of my love for you and your children.  I cannot go back there and leave you here.  MuRazi has also become deeply involved with matters here on Earth since we began to intervene here, and he cannot leave now.  He has chosen to stay and continue to try and fix even a little of what has gone wrong in our contacts with the people of Earth.  We will be joined by several other People of Universe and several other mixed families.  Unfortunately, we have room for no more.”  

 

*   *   *  

 

I took my husband’s warm hand in mine, and we walked to our chamber.  I closed the door, led him to our large bed, and sat down, since I was barely able to stand on my feet.  My husband sat down beside me. 

I held both his hands in mine and spoke to him.

“Today MuOr called me to his chamber and told me terrible news.  The continent of Mu is about to sink into the Great Water.  Most of the People of Universe are returning to their own planets.  We – you, me and our children – cannot go to Antaris, but we must leave Mu.

“Tomorrow before sundown the flat ships of the People of Universe will come for us.  They will take us to a place called ShuMeru[3][10][7].   MuOr and MuRazi will be going there with us

“We must leave, my prince.  Think about the children, about AnTaMu, RaMu and the baby!  Please do all that you must.  We cannot tell anyone about the journey because there is only room for seventy people in the flat ships.  Only you, the children and I can go. 

“My love, I myself can barely comprehend what is happening, this destruction, ruin, alienation and death.  I don’t fully understand the significance of it all, but I know that we must not endanger our children when we have an alternative of life and survival.  Tomorrow morning we must go to the House of Learning of the People of Universe.  You, the children, and I will be collected and brought to the place where the ships will depart.  There is no other way.  We must leave.”

My husband lay back on our bed and closed his eyes.  I waited for him to speak while evening fell and the silvery light of a full moon lit the chamber.  He reached his hand out to me, as if asking me to stand with him against the forces of nature.  I held his hand and my entire being tried to tell him that we must bravely accept reality and not deny it.

After an interminable pause my husband spoke again with a trembling voice, “ElTa, my love,” he said, “Our wise ones and I know that our beloved continent of Mu rests on underground gas deposits.  We know that there are cauldrons of fire deep under the earth all over our continent that threaten to erupt.  This has always been so.

 “These gasses have erupted on the surface of the continent before, and the low areas have been flooded.  There were several times when the cauldrons of fire began to boil, and molten rock covered large areas and destroyed everything in their path, but the continent has never sunk.  Our wise ones did not say anything about such a thing happening, and I speak with them each day.”

   I looked at my beloved husband’s face and could not understand his thoughts.  What did the things he said mean?  Was he not heeding MuOr’s warnings?  Did he not wish to leave in the flat ships?

My husband saw my distress, sat up, held my hand and tried to smile.  I knew that he was trying to calm me, but he replied as if he were speaking to himself. 

“My love, I promise you that everything will be all right.  There is no need to leave Mu.  I think MuOr’s predictions are exaggerated.  If it will ease your mind, we can sail tomorrow morning in one of our great sailing ships, and by sundown we will be far away from anything that is liable to endanger us.  We can even remain on the Great Water for several days.  Our sailing ships are equipped for voyages of several weeks.” 

I knew that I had to convince him to come with me.  “MuNa’aTuba, my prince and dear husband, I love you more than I love my own life, and there is nothing on this planet Earth that I would not do for you.  You must understand that if the matter of our leaving was connected only to you and me, I would go anywhere with you that you chose, and accept any decision you make.  But our decision must also include our three children, whose lives depend on us.  We must leave together, and if MuOr is mistaken, we can return here together.  I cannot conceive of being separated from you.” 

My husband held me to him and said almost in a whisper, “I cannot come with you.  I have never flown in the flat ships.  I… My parents… I cannot… I will wait for you… I will be here when you come back, and you will see that everything will be all right, and nothing will happen.” 

I felt as if my body was empty and only an echo of sadness was left within in.  My soul longed that the night would never end and that dawn would never break.   

But the dawn came.  I awoke with the first rays of light that shown into the room.  Perhaps MuOr was wrong after all?  Perhaps I was parting from my prince for no reason?  Perhaps we would sail away on the Great Water for only a few days?  Yes, that is what we would do.  When my husband awoke I would tell him that we would sail away on the Great Water together.

 

*   *   *  

 

When I entered the children’s chamber both of them were dressed, and the baby was with them.  I looked at the baby crawling on the thick rug, while AnTa knelt next to him patting him on his small head.  RaMu stood quietly looking at me with his large eyes and holding the pet cat, Pash. 

At that moment I made a quick and painful decision.  I picked up the baby and told AnTa and Ra that we were leaving.  I asked Ra to leave the cat, but he only held him tighter, and I said nothing more.  The children were very attached to the cat, and I knew that he would have to come with us. 

I looked out of the window and saw that the vehicles of the People of Universe were already standing at the entrance to the palace.  I held my baby in one arm and Ra with the other, and told AnTa to hold her brother’s hand.  We began to walk quickly to my chamber. 

I called my husband and MuNa’aTuba came in, kissed the children, and tried to take the baby from me, but I did not let go of him. 

“My dear prince, I am going with the children in the flat ships.  The vehicles of the People of Universe are already waiting outside.  I love you, and I hope we will see each other again in a few days.  I don’t want to think even for a minute about leaving you for any longer than that, but I am leaving now.  I am begging you for the last time to please come with us.”

My husband’s face clouded in great sorrow, and I saw tears in his eyes.  He embraced all of us and said, “Go in peace my loved ones.  It will only be a short journey, and we will see each other again in a few days.” 

I embraced my husband, kissed his forehead, and asked him to go outside with us.  The children left their father reluctantly and their small bodies clung to me once more.  I looked at my handsome prince and asked myself, “Why?  Why are you making me suffer so?” 

I entered the vehicle with my children.  From that moment things began to happen, but I was detached from everything around me.  My body moved, but my soul hovered, watching what occurred.  The vehicle moved and rose from the ground.  We reached the square in front of the House of Learning.  The flat ships were already standing there, their silvery metal shining in the sun. 

I felt MuOr’s hand leading me.  I followed him, holding the baby and the children tightly.  I saw dark gray clouds in the sky.  I did not remember ever seeing such clouds in the skies of Mu.  They covered the sun, and it seemed even stranger: a day in Mu during the warm season without sun?  A cold wind began to blow.  It was indeed a strange day.  I sensed confusion around the flat ships, and MuOr quickened his steps.  We ascended the bridge leading to the opening of the flat ship.  My children held on to me tightly and MuOr hurried us along even faster. 

A deep rumbling shook the ship.  The baby began to cry.  A loud roar made the ship tremble again, and before the door closed I managed to see that it was almost totally dark outside.  Another louder roar shook the ship as its door closed and it lifted from the ground.  My eyes were glued to the window.  The thunderous noise could no longer be heard, but the ship still shook with its force. 

 I felt hands taking the baby from me.  I did not resist.  I felt AnTa and Ra still clinging to me.  Only darkness was visible from the window of the flat ship.  Suddenly a bolt of red lightening pierced the darkness, and I saw the sun shining from below.  I did not understand what was happening.  I continued to watch and saw that it was not the sun at all, but a huge inferno engulfing the continent.  It was no longer a continent, but only pieces of one, and the fire consumed the earth.  Huge waves, as tall as the walls around the House of Learning in Duarta, surrounded the burning torches of the continent and sank them to the bottom of the Great Water.  It looked as if all of the Great Water was burning and roiling in a vortex of fire and smoke.  Fire and water embraced each other, refusing to part, and engulfed the entire beloved Sun continent.  Everything burned and then sank before my eyes.  

It continued forever, or perhaps only for a split second, but the flat ship was already far from the vortex of the forces.  Then I knew the sorrowful truth.  I knew that I would never see my prince again.  I would never again embrace his beautiful body, and would never again caress his silken skin.  Everything was over.  My life ended.  A black curtain descended on my soul.

 

Part Two

Africa 

 

 

Kavi’s story takes place in West Africa five thousand years ago – fifteen thousand years after ElTa’s story.  Kavi belonged to the Yoruba tribe, or possibly the Ibo tribe, both of which still exist in Nigeria today.  Kavi’s story tells of the life of a simple village girl, yet it is tied to ElTa’s story in many ways.

 

*   *   *    

 

My name is Kavica, but everyone calls me Kavi.  My tribe is called the Tayuba and our huts are near the Great Water.  It takes only half a day to walk there.  I like to go there, and when I leave at sunrise I can be back home by evening. 

My parents don’t like it when I go to the beach near the Great Water, and they sometimes forbid me from going there.  Sometimes I went anyway without their permission, and they were very angry and punished me by not allowing me to leave the area in front of our hut for several days. 

But there were other things I liked to do besides going to the Great Water.  I like to watch the boys practice shooting with their bows and spears.  Of course, I always hid in the bushes, since I knew that if I got caught the matter would have much more serious consequences than going to the Great Water.

One day when I came back from the Great Water and was walking on the familiar path, I suddenly heard a low whimpering from the bushes.  I began to search among the bushes and my arms and legs got badly scratched, but I paid no attention.  Finally I drew out the small creature that had been whining there.  It was a wildcat cub, and his front paw was almost entirely crushed.  It looked as if the teeth of a larger animal had closed on his tiny foot.  The injured cub was in bad condition and I knew that if it would not be cared for it would die.  I told my mother that I would take the cub to Shangoma.  My mother laughed at me and said that Old Shangoma had more important things to do than take care of a wildcat cub, but I knew that he would not refuse. 

Shangoma was the wise medicine man of our tribe.  The full name of the old wise man was Babalawo Moye Shangoma [1] but everyone in the village called him Shangoma.  He was very old and gaunt, but his walk was powerful.  He could jump like a panther and he had an alert and penetrating look.  His hut was separated from the others in the village, but I knew the way there well, because the other thing I liked to do was to go to Shangoma’s hut and watch what he did. 

 When I came back home my parents and sister were surprised to see that Shangoma had taken care of the cub.  My father smiled and nodded his head in disbelief and I smiled back at him. 

 

I was more interested in the boys’ practice sessions than I was in the games played by the girls my age.  The girls chatted all the time, and I didn’t like to talk a lot.  I never felt comfortable with them.  I wanted to feel that I belonged among them, but everything I said or did was somehow not right.  They went around in groups of two, three or four, and I was never included.  My feelings were hurt again and again, until I finally gave up trying to be friends with them.  The only girl I befriended was Natunji, who was a little older than me.  I liked Natunji a lot and she liked me.  She was kindhearted and often gave up another friend to be with me.   

There was another reason why I liked to watch the boys practice.  There were two boys in the group whom I liked.  I loved one of them as if he were the brother that I never had.  His name was Romulanau, which means “Bright as the Sun.”  The other boy I liked was named Dicke, which means “brave”.  My love for Dicke was completely different than my love for Romulanau.

Romulanau and Dicke were very handsome boys.  Dicke was a little taller than Romulanau, but I saw great depth in Romulanau’s eyes the likes of which I only saw in the eyes of Old Shangoma.  His look was soft and wise and could penetrate the roots of your soul.  What a fantastic sight it was to watch the boys practice!  Their teacher was named Teraka, and he was one of the bravest fighters of the tribe and greatly respected by everyone. 

 

People in our village were already talking about the approaching ceremony commemorating the boys’ entry into adulthood.  At the end of the ceremony the boys would be considered men, and it would then be decided which of them would join the fighters and who would continue as hunters.  In actuality all the men fought in an emergency, but the higher ranking fighters were allotted special privileges and respect, and were therefore exempted from performing many household tasks.  Everyone was already excited about the upcoming ceremony. 

The ceremony itself was conducted at a place outside the village and only the men were allowed to participate.  When the ceremony was over the entire group would enter the village and the singing, dancing and feasting would begin. 

What a wonderful sight!  Everyone was painted in bright colors.  The adult men wore animal skins.  Some of them covered their faces with masks and others decorated their heads and shoulders with huge colorful feathers.  The young men did not wear masks, but their faces were painted with identical colors: red, yellow, green and black.  They wore hats made of white wooden beads and beaded fringes on the foreheads that stood out against the red paint that covered their foreheads.  I looked at the young men and was enchanted by their beauty. 

The rhythm of the beating of the big drums quickened.  The youths who had become men that day were bare-chested, and the cuts that had been made in their chests during the coming-of-age ceremony could clearly be seen. 

I didn’t listen to what had been decided about all the young men, but I waited impatiently to hear what had been decided regarding Romulanau and Dicke.  When Dicke’s name was called I held my breath.  He was called to join the fighters.  I knew that this would happen because Dicke was as his name proclaimed: brave and glorious.  I was proud of him and my heart was filled with love for him. 

I wanted to hear Romulanau’s name called, but my heart felt that his fate would be different than that of the rest of the newly appointed men. 

Almost total silence fell.  Only the drums sounded: boom… boom… boom… like a great heart beating.  A man wearing a lion skin and a mask fashioned like a lion’s head raised his right hand.  The beating of the drums could barely be heard, and the man with the lion’s head mask spoke:

“People of the tribe of Tayuba! We are gathered here today to receive our new hunters and fighters.  All of them are brave men.  May the Gods bless them all!”

He was silent for a minute, and turned his whole body towards Romulanau who stood waiting to hear his fate pronounced.  The lion-man now cried in a loud voice: “Romulanau, come here!”  Romulanau walked majestically and limberly towards the lion-man who began to dance around him.

My heart was pounding rapidly.  Romulanau stood erect and his keen gaze cut through space.  The lion-man stopped dancing, took Romulanau’s hand and proclaimed solemnly, “People of Tayuba!  Romulanau is a brave and glorious man, and is worthy of joining our great fighters, but his fate will be different.  He will become the next Shangoma of the Tayuba tribe.  From tomorrow morning Romulanau will live in the hut of Old Shangoma and become his apprentice and assistant.  May the Gods bless the Shangoma and Romulanau!”

Silence fell when he finished.  Not a muscle moved in Romulanau’s face, and the lion-man began to dance around him again, accompanying himself by quietly singing a song that told of the wisdom of the universe.

 

*   *   *    

 

I walked to the shore of the Great Water and began to look for shells.  That day I found special ones that were larger and more beautiful than any I had ever found before.  I quickly filled the basket I had brought, and sat down on the warm sand to eat the sweet fruits that I had brought with me. 

Shortly after that I began to walk back home.  Suddenly I looked towards the horizon and my heart skipped a beat.  Nor far from me near the trunk of a willow tree I saw the figure of a man.  He stood straight and proud, holding his spear in his right hand.  His long hair hung down to his shoulders in thin delicate braids.  He wore a black ribbon around his forehead threaded with red beads, and he wore beaded bracelets on his hands.  His upper body was bare and he wore a leopard skin around his loins that reached down to his feet.  It was Dicke.

I approached him until I was standing close enough to hear his heart pounding.  My hands stroked his chest and shoulders.  I somehow succeeded in murmuring “I love you, Dicke.”  Dicke put down his spear, and pulled me to him with his strong arms.  He quickly undid the knot that held his leopard skin, and he stood naked.  His beauty mingled with the beauty of the world around us.  The purple rays of the setting sun shone on his body, and I stood unable to believe the magic.  His hands began to stroke my breasts, and my legs refused to support me.  I fell to my knees and Dicke knelt down beside me, kissing and caressing me.  He effortlessly removed the piece of cloth around my hips and our two bodies were joined together in passion and love.  During the first seconds I felt pain but afterwards came the pleasure of mingling with Dicke’s being and with the entire universe.  We made love for a long time, and fell asleep exhausted under the sky wrapped in each other’s arms. 

 

Dicke still did not go to my father to ask if he could marry me.  He claimed that something always came up and forced him to postpone the meeting, and I believed him.  Days passed and became weeks, and then the weeks turned to months, and I continued to love Dicke more than ever. 

One day Dicke told me that he was going to visit a friend in a nearby village, and asked me to bring one of my shell necklaces to him as a present. 

“Of course I’ll give you the nicest, but I’m sad.  How long will you be gone, Dicke, my love?  I can’t bear not seeing you for a long time.” 

“I’ll only be gone for three or four days.  Don’t be sad.” 

“When will you go to my father, Dicke?  We have already been together for an entire season, and you haven’t gone to ask him if you can marry me.” 

“I’ll go to see your father when I come back from my visit, I promise.”

“Oh, Dicke, I love you so much, and I’m waiting for the day when we will be married and I’ll be your wife,” I said, kissing him.

That night I could not sleep.  For the last few days I had felt unwell, and I began to suspect that I was pregnant.  I wanted to talk about it with Dicke, but didn’t have time before he left on his journey, and I decided to tell him when he returned.  Perhaps then it would become apparent that I was mistaken.  But my suspicions proved to be true.  Dicke’s baby had already begun to grow within me.  I was overjoyed, and eager to tell him the news. 

Dicke returned, but he was changed.  He was not happy to see me as usual, and attributed his behavior to the fact that he was tired from his journey.  The next morning Dicke told me that I should not come to his hut at sundown any more.

“Why are you acting this way?  What has happened, my love?”

“Nothing has happened, Kavi.  I must practice with Teraka, and I have to rest.”

I left Dicke’s hut.  The warm rays of the morning sun caressed my body and my thoughts wandered.  Suddenly I longed for Romulanau and the Shangoma.  I decided to go to the old man’s hut.  As I was passing through the village I saw several women standing and talking excitedly.  It was too late to avoid them, since they had already seen me and called to me.  I approached them and greeted them.

“Have you heard the latest news?”  Mosdila the fat woman asked me.

“No, I have heard nothing.”

“Haven’t you heard about Dicke?  He is bringing a bride from the nearby village.  There will be a wedding soon and all of us are invited.”

Her news left my mind in a blur.  I felt that the entire world was spinning around me.  No, it couldn’t be!  Perhaps my condition was making me imagine things.  Perhaps I should go home.

“Yes, Dicke is getting married, and we heard that the bride is very pretty.  Will you make us some of your shell necklaces to wear, Kavi?”

Their last request struck me like a wave of darkness.  When I arrived at my hut I collapsed onto my mat.  I heard people coming in and recognized the voices of Old Shangoma and Romulanau.  I wanted to tell them that I loved them, and that I was happy that they were here, but I could not speak.  I felt Shangoma’s old, withered hand on my head.  It radiated warmth and power.  Another hand which I knew was Romulanau’s was holding mine.  After that I saw only darkness. 

 

I don’t know how long I remained in that state of oblivion, but when I regained my senses I could already feel the baby moving inside me.  Old Shangoma was sitting next to me and Romulanau was holding my hand.  He later told me that he had held my hand the entire time that I was ill, afraid that if he left me even for a minute, I would never come back. 

“Kavi, I am very happy to see you among us again.  I knew that you are strong and brave and that you would overcome your illness.  I know who the father of your child is, Kavi.  Do you want me to do anything about it?  I can make him assume responsibility for the baby.  He will grow to be a man, and will need to be provided for,” the old man said, and his words came to me as if through a thick fog. 

I withdrew into myself, and Dicke’s face appeared before me.  I answered the dear man in a voice so low that it could barely be heard: “Shangoma, as far as I am concerned, my baby’s father is dead, and if he is dead, you have no one from whom to ask for support.  Forget that you know who he is, and never speak of it again.”

 

*   *   *

   

Shangoma’s stories drew me to his hut like magic threads.  I wanted to know more and more about the gods and their dwellings.  But the old man was not there, and I found Romulanau preparing medicinal herbs.  When he saw me he stopped what he was doing immediately.

“Kavi, please sit down here next to me.  There is something I want to tell you.”

I sat down next to him.  He held my hand, and we looked into each other’s eyes.  His eyes said everything.  They spoke of love, closeness, and mystery.

“Kavi my dear, for a long time I have loved one of the women from our village.  At first I didn’t notice her at all.  But every time I walked through the village, she was always there with a smile.  She never said anything to me, but her eyes told me everything.  I began to greet her and after some time we began to talk.  Since then she has entered into my heart.  I want to tell you about her and to hear what your heart tells you.”

“Dear Romulanau, I don’t think you need to tell me about her.  I know who this woman is.  I also love her very much.  She is the only one of the women in the village whom I love, besides my mother and my sister.”

“Do you really know whom I am talking about, Kavi?” Romulanau asked.

“Yes.  The woman is Natunji.”

He looked at me and his eyes were filled with astonishment.  He took my hand, closed his eyes, and seemed to withdraw into himself. 

“How did you know about Natunji?  I only hope that Natunji will agree to marry me and not disappoint me like you did.”

“Natunji will not disappoint you.  She has loved you for a long time, and will be your wife.  Dear Romulanau, I love you with all my heart, but I couldn’t be your wife, and if you look into your heart, you will know that I was right.”

 

Everyone in the village began to talk about the wedding of Romulanau and Natunji, and I took out my most beautiful shells that I had been saving for the occasion. 

The wedding will be etched in my memory always.  All the men in the village, headed by the old Shangoma accompanied Romulanau.  Dicke was also there, but I took no notice of him.  I only felt love for Romulanau.

All the men were decorated and colorful, but Romulanau looked special and stood out from the rest.  His black skin was smeared with coconut oil, which made it shine.  He wore a leopard skin and thin belts of colored leather embroidered in different colors.  Ivory and gold bracelets decorated his arms and legs, and he wore my shell necklace together with a large pure gold pendant around his neck.  On his head he wore feathers of many colors, and gold jewelry shone on his black skin and earrings hung from his ear lobes.  His face was devoid of any paint, which set off his beauty.

Romulanau stood and waited for his bride.  Then the women arrived with beautiful Natunji, and my heart skipped a beat.  Natunji was heavenly in her beauty: she was tall and her body moved like the bodies of the gazelles that wander about the huge savannas.  A katu of expensive material was wrapped around the lower part of her body.  She wore gold bracelets on her arms and a gold pendant around her neck, identical to the one worn by Romulanau.  Natunji also wore a special shell necklace that I had given her as a wedding present.  The large blue shell shone with all the colors of the rainbow.  She wore an elaborate milkete on her head made of red and blue beads strung among golden circlets that hung down over her forehead.  Natunji and Romulanau looked beautiful, and my eyes filled with tears of happiness and love. 

 

A full month had not yet passed since Romulanau’s and Natunji’s wedding when my labor pains began.  My mother ran to call the old village midwife and returned with Mama Maflalu.  She arrived with Ziko, a young midwife, who had a fine reputation, since she had learned from Mama Maflalu. 

Mama Maflalu examined me and said that the birth would not take place for some time.  She asked my mother to make her some sweet semolina, sat down in the doorway of the hut, and began calmly to roll herself a shatiti.

Mama Maflalu finally finished smoking her shatiti, which seemed to take forever, and came to examine me again.  I didn’t understand why the Shangoma had insisted that old Mama Maflalu deliver my son, and my senses were dulled from pain.  I wanted to scream, but nothing came out of my mouth but groans. 

I soon lost all sense of what was happening around me, but I knew that the birth continued longer than usual.  I heard Mama Maflalu’s voice saying that my father would have to sleep outside so that he would not disturb us.  I understood that night had already come, and I had been in labor since sunrise.  When the sun rose the next morning, I heard Mama Maflalu telling me to push… and push… and stop… and push again… 

At last from far away I heard  Mama Maflalu shouting, “The baby’s head is out!  Push a little more, Kavi, a little more, please…”  And I pushed, but it was not me pushing, but a strength and power that came from somewhere outside me.  I managed to hear “We have a son!  We have a beautiful son!” and I sank into unconsciousness. 

 

When my son was eight days old I went to live with him in the new hut.  It was close to my parents’ hut, and my mother promised to come every day to help me take care of my tiny son.     

On the tenth morning after the birth of my son, my mother came to my hut as usual, but this time she came with my father as well.  He went to his grandson, picked him up, and said, “Your son is strong, Kavi, and handsome, too.  Have you named him yet?”

No, Father, not yet.” 

“That’s not good, my daughter.  He is already ten days old and has no name.  How long can you leave him without a name.

“His name is Munatuba,” I blurted.  “Munatuba is the name of my son.  Munatuba.”

 

*   *   *    

 

When Munatuba began his training with Teraka, he spent less time with me on my treks to the Great Water, and was absent from the hut during the nights as well. 

When Munatuba returned, he was no longer the boy I had known.  He had only left the hut a few days ago as a child, and suddenly a fully grown man stood there in his majesty, and it was hard for me to absorb the change.  What had happened?  What had become of my little boy? 

I walked up to the man who stood in the doorway of the hut and began to caress his body and his arms reached for me.  I looked into his face, and it was the face of my son Munatuba.  We stood there for a long time embracing each other.  And I heard my son’s voice through a haze saying, “Mother, I love you so much… I don’t want to ever leave you…”

 

*   *   *  

 

The Old Shangoma announced  that the Magic Stone Ceremony would take place that evening.  The Magic Stone ceremony was very ancient and special.  It was among the secret tasks of all the Babalawos Moye Shangoma.  Everything that was known about the ceremony was only rumors.  When people in the village learned that Shangoma was to conduct the Magic Stone Ceremony for Romulanau, there was great excitement, since members of the Tayuba did not see such a ceremony every day.  Many tales were told about the ceremony and the wonders of the Magic Stone, but most of the tales told that the magic stone had a soul that is tied to the soul of the universe, and that it knew the past, present and future.  The past, present and future were one.  During the ceremony the Shangoma would use the stone to pass all of the wisdom contained in the stone to Romulanau. 

Night fell.  A light breeze began to blow and lightning and thunder made the people who were present tremble.  Everyone looked at the sky.  Was a storm approaching?  It was not a storm since, besides the lightning and thunder, the night was pleasant, the air was fresh and the sky was filled with countless stars.  A large moon shone and promised that the night would be clear.  Where did the strange lightning and thunder come from? 

The Shangoma came out of his hut, and his face was covered with a mask that had never been seen before in our tribe.  Then the old man slowly reached into a brown leather bag and drew out a stone which shone in a blaze of colors in the firelight.  Another bolt of lightning pierced the sky, and whispers of wonder mixed with fear were heard from everyone.  The old man lifted his hand and quiet descended, and his voice resounded as if coming from afar:

“Beloved people of Tayuba! We have gathered here tonight to take part in a special ceremony.  The wisdom of the Gods is stored in this crystal.  This wisdom can be extracted, but cannot be passed to everyone, because not everyone can endure it.  This is not wisdom of quantity but of quality, and this quality is the wisdom of knowledge, that enables us to merge and become One with the Universe.  When this knowledge is extracted from the crystal it will return to its source, and it will also merge with the Universe, with Everything.  The person entrusted with this knowledge will find the Magic Stone when it is needed again, or when he will need to pass the knowledge on to someone else.”

The old man sat down next to his apprentice, placed the crystal on a small copper-like tablet, and passed his hands over it, singing softly.  The stone began to glow in sparkling colors.  The Shangoma placed the stone in his apprentice’s hands, and Romulanau was suddenly enveloped in a golden halo.  I don’t know if the halo was real, or if it was only the firelight, but the sight was breathtaking.

Romulanau slowly leaned back until he was lying on the ground.  The old Shangoma placed the shining stone on his forehead, and began to chant a song known only to him.  The stone blazed like a mighty flame, and its light was blinding.  Many of the villagers covered their eyes with their hands against the dazzling light.  Suddenly another roll of thunder sounded, and the stone resting on Romulanau’s forehead exploded with fire.  Countless sparks scattered in all directions.  The thunder crashed again, and another bolt of lightening flashed, and the sparks from the stone merged with the lightening.  After that, darkness returned, and only the firelight lit the area in front of the Shangoma’s hut. 

The old man sat down next to Romulanau, who was still lying on the ground.  Everyone remained sitting for what seemed an immeasurable amount of time, still stunned and amazed by what they had seen, as if everything that had happened had been in a different reality. 

 

When morning came and I walked back to my hut, far off memories began to surround me.  In one memory I remembered coming out of a strange object – flat and large, and I descended from it and the image of a man was walking beside me.  His clothes were very strange, and he held a mask under his arm that was similar to the one that the Shangoma had used in the Magic Stone ceremony.  In the memory I saw an image of myself, but my skin was white, and the man’s skin was also white.  I pushed the image out of my mind, but it gave me no rest, and the memory would often reappear.  I told no one about it, not even Romulanau or the Old Shangoma.  The memory excited and frightened me.

 

*   *   *  

 

Three months after Romulanau returned from his journey to Ksais [2], Shangoma left his body, and Romulanau became the Shangoma of the Tayuba tribe.  I was heartbroken to see Shangoma’s lifeless body.  I always knew in my heart that the Shangoma would not die until Romulanau returned from his journey, as if he were waiting for his return in order to die in total serenity. 

 

The day arrived for my son Munatuba’s coming-of-age ceremony.  I could not even eat my morning bread because of my excitement.  I stepped outside my hut and breathed the fresh morning air.  The people of the village began to stream towards the central square where the after ceremony feast would take place.  When I reached the square all the young men were already there standing in a circle, and Teraka was about to pronounce the destiny of each one.  Munatuba was there, the most handsome of all.  I gazed at him as if in a dream.  Finally Teraka called his name and pronounced that he was to join the fighters.  The rest of the ceremony was like a ceremony that I had seen many times, but this time the most important person in it for me was my beloved son Munatuba. 

When I returned with my son to our hut it was almost sunrise.  A chill wind was blowing, and Munatuba wrapped me in the leopard skin that had been around his shoulders.  My body trembled but not with cold.  When Munatuba saw that I was shivering he put his arm around my shoulders and held my trembling body close to his.  We entered our hut and Munatuba brought me another skin that I used to cover myself on cold nights. 

He wrapped me in the skin and began to stroke my face.  His large eyes sparkled.  He smiled lovingly at me and a great life energy radiated from his body, and my body shivered like a stray leaf.  Munatuba embraced me, and the skins fell on the floor of our hut.  I felt my exposed breasts against my son’s broad chest. 

“I love you, Kavi,” my son said in a whisper.

“I know, Munatuba, I love you, too.  I think that our love is more than the love between mother and son, and we cannot fulfill it.  I love you with all my soul, my son, but it would be better if you went to sleep in Teraka’s hut, and began to build your own hut as soon as possible.”

“Mother, I never asked you until now, but I want to know.  Who is my father?”

“Oh, Munatuba, my son, that is a very old story.  Your father never took interest in you.  Why are you interested in him? 

My son was silent, and continued to embrace me, and after a long pause he asked in a voice filled with pain,” Mother, is Dicke my father?”

It was as if lightening had struck my heart.  I held Munatuba closer and answered him quietly, “Yes, my son, Dicke is your father.  How did you know?”

 “I didn’t know, but I have had this feeling each time Dicke and I were together.  During our hunting expeditions he risked his life and saved me from danger more than once.  I always looked at his movements, his walk, his speech, and I knew that I am like him in many ways… Did he hurt you, Mother?”

“Yes, Munatuba, he hurt me very much.”

“Do you hate him?”

“No, my son, I don’t hate him.  I never hated him, even when the wound was still new.  But he hurt me badly and now, my son, when you know that Dicke is your father, will you demand your rights?”.

“No, Mother, I never meant to do that, but I feel a calmness within me because now I know for certain who my father is.  No, I don’t intend to go to him, not today and not any other time… I am leaving in the morning, Mother.  I am going away.  I am sailing with the fishermen on the fishing boats.”

“Son, I won’t be able to part from you,” I said, and began to cry.

“I will try and come back before long, I promise, but in the morning I must leave.  Please don’t cry, Mother dear, because your tears will break my heart even when I am not here.  I want to stay here next to you, but something stronger than me is calling me to the Great Water.  I must go and I will try and come back soon.”

I stopped pleading and only my tears continued to fall as I caressed and embraced Munatuba.  We wrapped ourselves in the katu and Munatuba tried to calm me with his love.  I finally fell asleep in my son’s arms, exhausted from the intensity of my feelings, sorrow, and tears.  I dreamed about water, about storms and fire, and everything was mixed up in my dream, and I awoke with a start.  When I opened my eyes, Munatuba was dressed and ready to leave. I kissed his forehead, he blessed me and then he left.  I sat on my mat, covered my head with the leather blanket, and wished my soul would die.

 

I felt that someone else was in the hut with me.  I pulled the skin blanket back from over my head and saw Romulanau sitting next to me.  He looked into my eyes and said, “Oh, Kavi, first it was Munatuba’s father and now it is Munatuba who is causing you to look at your own death?

“Dear Kavi, get up and come with me.  Natunji will prepare some herbal tea that will calm you, and you will be able to talk with her.  Please come.  Don’t stay here alone,” Romulanau said, and helped me to get up.

Despite the fact the day was warm, I wrapped myself in the large skin blanket because I felt that a cold had penetrated me to the bone.  I began to walk heavily after Romulanau towards his hut.  The sky outside was becoming dark, and the air was hazy.  I looked at Romulanau’s face.  He knew what I wanted to ask.  He shook his head and said, “It will be all right, Kavi, everything is being watched.  There are things that we cannot control.  There are things that we cannot change.”

“I smell a storm in the air, Romulanau.”

“We cannot change that, either.”

On the way to Romulanau’s hut large drops of rain began to fall.  The tops of the tress did not move, and I thought to myself that maybe it would not be a storm after all, but only rain falling out of season, and I prayed in my heart that it would be so.

At noon dark clouds covered the sky instead of the usual bright sun.  A strong wind began to blow, and I felt disappointed and abandoned by the protective forces that Romulanau spoke about. 

By evening the storm was already in full fury.  It was one of the worst storms that we had ever had.  Three days went by before it finally ceased.  Most of the huts in the village, including my own, were completely destroyed.  The main well was also totally destroyed.  I sat in the doorway of what was left of Romulanau’s hut and stared into space.  Romulanau stopped what he had been doing and came up to me.  I said only one word: “Munatuba?”

“My beloved Kavi, I have already sent people down to the beach.  Munatuba went out with seven other men, and we are doing all we can to find out what happened to them.  I hope they are all right.”

“My Munatuba,” I said again.

“Kavi, did you love the old Shangoma?  Did you respect him?  Do you remember what he said?  Life and death are one.  Death is only a continuation of life.  Do you remember that?”

I did not answer.  I finally saw them.  I saw them from far away, and they were carrying four bodies.  I knew that one of them was that of my son Munatuba.  My beloved Munatuba was dead, and I died together with him.  After that my body continued to live, but I no longer had anything to do with the matters of the living.

When the people of the village buried the four men who died in the storm, I did not go to the funeral.  I sat in Romulanau’s and Nutunji’s hut and life went on without me.  After Munatuba died, I remember nothing but my own death. 

 

*   *   *  

 

The fighters of the Tayuba tribe knew that the Nazghau tribe was about to attack us.  The entire village was evacuated beforehand to a safe shelter, but I escaped from the hiding place and returned to the village.  I went straight to the place where our dead were buried.  Munatuba my son was there. 

When I heard the battle cries of the Nazghau I did not move and was not afraid, because my consciousness was no longer there.  Only my body was there.  The war cries were very close.  I knew that the fighters were already in the village.  The smell of fire reached me and I knew that they had set the village on fire and that our people were safely hiding elsewhere.  I wanted to run back there, because Romulanau and Natunji were there and I loved them, but my son was buried here, and I loved him so.  There was no cure for my injured soul and it was already too late to leave the Last House, because tongues of fire had already engulfed it.

I had wanted them to cremate my body after I died, as they had done to Shangoma’s body.  Now my wish was being fulfilled, and the bones of my son were being cremated together with me. 

And that is all.  I saw tongues of fire engulf the entire village and the cemetery.  But my soul was no longer in my body.

 

Part Three
Israel, 1994

The names of many of the people in this part of my story have been changed in order to protect their privacy. 

From the very start I was

A part of this spiritual universe,

That which I came from

I shall go into again.

Since it is destined for man to fall

So it is meant for him to rise.

                                     

 Larry Page 

Excerpt from the poem Coming and Going
 

*   *   *  

 

I was born in Poland four months after it was liberated from the Nazi occupation.  My father was Jewish, and lost in the Holocaust his first wife and eldest daughter, together with almost all the other members of his family in the gas chambers and the crematoria.  He was drafted into the reserves when the war broke out.  His company was taken prisoner by the Nazis, who immediately separated the Christian soldiers from the Jewish ones.  Since the Geneva Convention forbade them from executing prisoners of war, the Nazis freed the Jewish soldiers after a short time in order to shoot them.  But this is another story, that belongs to another book [1].  My mother was a Christian whose first husband was killed while fighting in the Polish army against the Nazi occupation.  She also lost her eldest son and most of her family in that horrible war. 

These two tortured souls met in the chaos of ravaged wartime Europe.  Between the bombs and the scattered bodies and mass graves, with the smoke of the crematoria still rising in the skies of Poland, and without knowing the fate of their other loved ones, my parents heeded God’s command to “Be fruitful and multiply”, and so my life began. 

Despite the fact that my family was economically secure, the rest of my childhood was not much better than its beginning.  Loneliness and solitude surrounded me like an abyss that threatened to engulf me.  The atmosphere in our home was unpleasant and estranged.  Both of my parents carried a heavy emotional burden and were occupied with their wounds and sorrow.  They were therefore unable to devote any effort to understanding the sensitive soul of a little girl. 

I grew up with two religious faiths, but knew nothing about either one of them.  Each of my parents kept their religion concealed, probably due to the difficult experiences they underwent during the Second World War, and they can hardly be blamed for doing so. 

In 1957, when I was twelve years old, my parents decided to immigrate to Israel because of the increasing anti-Semitism in Poland.  The change was shocking and traumatic for me, and the first word that I heard in Hebrew was “Goya,” a derogatory term for “gentile”.  I didn’t understand what this meant, but comprehended that it was no less severe an insult as “Dirty Jew”, which had been shouted at me time and time again in Poland. 

Since then I have undergone many upheavals in my life.

 

*   *   *  

 

A year after my divorce all kinds of unexplainable things began to happen.  An inner knowledge awoke within me that my parents were not my real parents, and that I had come to them when I was four years old.  This thought disturbed me a lot and caused me a great deal of anguish.  I tried to ignore it.  I could not understand it: if I had only come to my parents when I was four, what happened to their real daughter?  The entire matter seemed absurd, and I thought that perhaps I was losing my mind.  I tried with all my strength to banish these thoughts from my mind, but without success.  I decided that I had to talk about this with someone – if not, I would truly lose my mind. 

I turned to my close friend Jacob Roth, who is a medium.  Jacob is a quiet, introvert man.  I met him at one of his lectures and we developed a relationship and a friendship without any sexual tension.  It was strange to have such a close relationship with a man that did not involve sex.  This new experience pleased me very much, and was good and constructive in all aspects. My horizons were suddenly broadened and my world became fuller and rounder. 

When I told Jacob what I had experienced and how distressing these thoughts were, he only smiled his childlike smile, and said simply, “Ellen, have you ever heard of a ‘Walk In’?” 

“No, what is that exactly?”

Jacob explained that a Walk In is a phenomenon in which a new soul enters a body and takes the place of one that has left.  This happens with mutual agreement between the two souls, and the new soul commits itself to complete all the tasks that were begun by the previous one.  Jacob explained that this is what had happened to me, and that there was nothing special about it.  There are countless instances like it all over the world. 

A shiver ran over my entire body and quickly turned to trembling.  I closed my eyes.  After the trembling stopped a calmness spread throughout my entire being that I had not felt for a long time.  I still did not fully understand this phenomenon, but at least I knew that I was not losing my mind and that my parents’ real daughter had not been taken anywhere.  Her body was the same: only a new energy – a new soul – inhabited it.  The thoughts that had bothered me for months vanished as if they had never been. 

 

I continued to go to parties and nightclubs hoping to find my knight in shining armor.  The atmosphere in these places was horrible – reminiscent of a meat market.  The Butterfly Club was the least revolting among these clubs.  It had a comfortable atmosphere, and an evening there could be enjoyable.  It was there that I met Ted. 

Those were the days of the Gulf War.  Gas masks were distributed to everyone, rooms were sealed in every home with plastic sheeting and cellophane tape, and the Haifa port was filled with battleships and aircraft carriers from the United States Sixth Fleet.  The entire city was full of American soldiers. 

Everything that evening in the Butterfly Club was as it usually was.  The club was packed with lots of single women and men, and the music was great.  But there was something different that evening.  My glance went from my cocktail glass to the entrance.  The door opened and three black men came in.  Despite the fact that they were not in uniform, it was obvious that they were soldiers from the Sixth Fleet. 

The three black men were so handsome that all of my senses were immediately aroused, and I could not take my eyes from them.  The middle man was older than the others – about 40, and the other two were very young, perhaps in their early 30s.  They moved towards the bar.  Their walk was different and special; their bodies moved as if they were dancing and each movement was graceful and beautiful.  There was something hidden about them that I could not fathom, but I pushed these thoughts aside and merely enjoyed looking at them. 

The music continued to play and my interest in the three soldiers faded.  I began to feel tired and thought about going home, when I suddenly heard someone ask me in a deep voice in English, “Would you like to dance with me?”

I looked up and saw the older black man.  I was confused and embarrassed, but tried to hide it.  I smiled, put my glass down on the table, got up, and let him lead me to the dance floor.  At that moment the music changed from loud disco to a quiet song.  The black man held me and began to lead me to the lovely music.  Another minute went by and he was holding me close to him, and then it happened.  A million flashes of light flooded my entire being.  I lost contact with reality, and the only thing that I felt were great currents of energy in my body and flashes of light in my head, like millions of fireworks were exploding within me and became more and more dazzling.  I felt my knees give way.  I did not understand what was happening.  Through the blur of my senses I understood that the black man was talking to me, but his voice sounded like it was coming from far away. 

The music was still playing and the black man’s cheek was still next to mine.  A sweet warmth flooded me, and he whispered things in my ear that I suddenly understood,  “You are a lovely woman.  It’s a shame you don’t speak English.  There are things I’d like to tell you.”

“I do speak English.  Not well, but I understand,” I answered, and my voice sounded strange.

“Really?  Then why didn’t you answer any of my questions?” 

“I can only speak a little English,” I said simply.  How could I explain to him why I had not answered his questions?

His courtesy and behavior moved me.  He was so very different from all the other men that I had ever met.  Pleasure, warmth and delight spread over me when he took my hand.  I looked at him as if seeing a black man for the first time in my life.  His face was handsome, and I saw that he wore glasses that suited him well.  His shoulders were broad, and the muscles of his legs threatened to burst out of his pants, which were the latest fashion.  He smiled at me and said, “My name is Ted Walter.  As you probably guessed, I’m from the Sixth Fleet.  I serve on a battleship as a mechanical engineer.”

“My name is Ellen,” I answered smiling, as if his smile had spread to me. 

“What a nice name.  It’s pretty, like you.  I’m pleased to meet you.”

Ted asked me what I did for a living and if I was married.  He told me that he was divorced and had three grown daughters.  His hand moved to his pocket and he drew out his wallet to show me a picture of himself with his daughters.  I looked at the picture for a long time, and something stirred inside me, but I ignored it because I didn’t know what to attribute it to. 

Ted invited me to go out for coffee with him, and I accepted.  We left the club with our arms around each other, but instead of going to have coffee we went to his hotel. 

I was in an emotional state that I had never experienced before.  That night the entire spiral of coils in my life began to unwind.

That entire night of love and mystery with Ted was a miracle.  His body was beautiful and his dark skin made me dizzy and aroused me.  When morning came he had to go back to his ship.  He ordered breakfast and we ate together, promising each other that we would keep in touch. 

Ted left with his ship and I longed for him constantly.  I kept watching the port for the return of his ship, but most of the American battleships had already sailed for the Persian Gulf, and only the aircraft carrier Saratoga remained in port. 

At the end of January, 1991 the American Forces attacked Iraq, and another war began.  The threat of Iraqi missiles became a reality for Israel.  We learned to live with another war.  I even went to a party with my friend, where I met a pleasant and attractive Israeli man who became my last white lover.  After Ted I lost all interest in white men.  I wanted a man and I knew that he would have to be black. 

I placed an ad in the singles column of the Los Angeles Times stating explicitly that I was interested in meeting a black man.  To my surprise, I received dozens of letters, all of which were extremely pleasant.  Eventually I made contact with three men: George, Tony, and Larry.  In a way Tony played a more important role in my life than George, but the most important person in my life was Larry. 

Larry wrote his first letter to me before he even knew my name:

 

 

Dear Romantic,

Hello! My name is Larry.  I’m black, and I’m in the middle of writing some romantic poetry.  I’d love to get to know you.  I’m working on a serious relationship with myself (smile).

I’m alone and lonely, which caused me to start writing poetry in the first place.  I would love to write you and start a serious romantic relationship as a pan pal, and if one day we find the need to be together then so be it.

What are you doing in Israel? Do you have a picture of yourself?  If you answer this letter I promise to get you my picture in my next mail along with some poetry that I’m working on.  It’s about romance.  Tell me a little about yourself and I’ll see if I can write a poem about you. 

I am desperately in need of love and romance but we can be friends first. 

Sincerely,

Larry.

 

 

Larry enclosed two poems with the letter, which I read earnestly.  I liked his letter, but I liked his poems even more.  No man had ever written me poetry before.  I wrote that to Larry.  I sent him my picture with a letter in which I told him about all of my disappointments with men and how much I longed for true love, as if we had always known each other.

 

   

My Dear Ellen.

Thank you for answering my letter.  I liked your letter so much I read it three times before I answered it.  And your picture is so beautiful. 

I want to express the joy I felt when I opened your letter.  The scent that came out of it was wonderful.  It did something to me.  I was lifted to new heights and smiled very joyously.  The love that was released from your letter was not a false spell, but very real.

   I’m an electrician by profession.  I’m currently unemployed.  The job market hasn’t been good to me.

The time I’ve been out of work has paid off as far as my writing goes.  Before I couldn’t write a thing, now I’m writing better poetry than I’ve ever written.

I’m so happy you loved my poems.  I will be writing more poems for you since you’ve never had a man send you poems.  I will shower you with poems of love and romance.

Tell me what you would like me to write about and I’ll see what I can do. 

Why do you want to fall in love with a black man?  And why do I want to love a white woman?  I’ve never gone out with a white women before so I can only envision what it must be like.  I did go out with a Mexican woman when I was 16 years old.  She was 19, but I was very immature and that relationship did not last long.  Enjoy my poems.  They come from a lonely man in Los Angeles, sent to a lovely woman in Israel.  May they touch your heart forever.

Sincerely,

Larry. 

 

 

I sing a lonely song

‘Cause  I’m a lonely man

In love.          

What a better way to sing

A song?

 

I sing a lonely song

I dance a lonely dance

What a better way to get

Alone?

                                                 

This is the life of a lonely man

In love with you.

I sing a lonely song

I dance a lonely dance

I play a lonely game,

What better way to play

All day.

                                                  

This is my life,

I’m a lonely man

And I’m still in love

With you.

 

 

I read the song about the lonely man, and my eyes filled with tears.  There was something in Larry’s poems that plucked the most delicate harp strings in my soul.  I was afraid that I was not worthy of them. 

Larry and I began to exchange four, five, six or more letters each week. 

 

My Dear Ellen,

I’m so happy with our love.  How can I express in words what you mean to me?   I can only think of one word: love.

You have made me very happy for today.  I don’t know if we were meant to fall in love.  But by now I’m hit by that love, and until you tell me otherwise, I think that you have been bitten by the same love bug.

I have developed a great respect for you, and a great love.  You have become very dear to me.  Our love is very special and different, yet it grows and ascends to newer and higher levels. 

Please take good care of yourself and remember I’m thinking about you.  You deserve much more then my poetry.  You are loved by me. 

Yours truly,

Larry

 

 

Once upon a time 

Love was expressed

Between a white woman

And a black man.

How great was this love

As great as the bodies of water

Rushing to and from the ends

Of the earth.

 

Loving relationships

Are not confined

To white on white

Or black on black. 

White women

Loving black men,

And black men

Worshiping their white women,

Is a type of love

That is very deep,

It’s in the soul

Of both people involved. 

Yes, love is very deep

When you are on this level.

 

        *

 

White women and black men

Have been lovers

Since early times, when color

Was blind.

With our love my pretty white

Woman,

We shall grow and show

The world

That black men and white women,

Make far better love,

This side of the Milky Way.

 

 

And then a letter arrived that shook the entire foundations of my being like an earthquake that revealed all the hidden places in my past and present, and threatened to bury me.

 

 

My Dearest Ellen,

Our love may be bigger than either of us realized in the beginning.  We have communicated in a wonderful way and the true power of the body, mind and spirit will soon be revealed.  I want to cry.  I want to love you from the bottom of my heart, but now I must tell you the story of my life, because maybe what began between us as merely a fun correspondence has begun to take an unexpected turn.  

I am an alcoholic, Ellen.  I also had a six year problem with cocaine.  Now I’m out of it, but addiction is addiction, and that is what cost me my family, my job, and a certain amount of respect.

I also need to tell you that I was a womanizer, and I just didn’t know what to do about it! You know, I even got married hoping that would stop this practice or troubled habit.

Now that I have gotten that out of the way, you decide if we can still be friends.  I do want to share my poetry with you.  Please remember that most of my poetry is about romance and love.  So if you want me to take you on a Romantic Journey I will pour my heart out to you.

 

Love,

Larry.

 

If that letter was the thunder, than the poems enclosed with it were the lightening.

 

 

The story of Village Amour

 

In the city not far from the

Beach,

You can find Village Amour,

A beautiful place.

 

              *

The story of Amour has been

Kept secret for many years,

But it is said that “We shall

Join forces again in this love

And that it will be greater than

Before.”

 

             *

Where is Palace Paradise?

It is in the House of Amour. 

The king and the queen rule

With wisdom.

The understanding of the laws

Of nature are freely practiced. 

The people are all family

Under One God.

 

In the land of Village Amour

Where no one is lonely

And no one is sad

Lived prince Amour and Paradise

Blue.

 

            *

 

And the Black prince and the

White Queen

Had the greatest love affair

The world has ever known,

They were amour in the order of

Balance.

Now the measure of balance was

Nature in harmony,

And the level they were on

Was total love,

For this is the highest level

Of being. 

 

They could be seen often walking

Into the sunset together.

They were Amour in Perfect Harmony

With themselves and nature,

And the fruits of their love

Were seen in Village Amour. 

 

 

When I read the story about Village Amour time stopped.  It then began to reel backwards to the past, to the black prince and his white queen.  It was a time when colors were blind, and the black prince and white queen experienced the greatest love that the world has ever known. 

Suddenly I knew that something that was not part of this life had been revealed to me, but I still did not know what it was.  I still did not know anything about Village Amour.  I only knew that I had found my black prince, and that he was an alcoholic… addicted to cocaine… a womanizer… and married.  Oh! What was going on here?  What else would I have to go through?  To what depths  would I have to descend?  And you, my black prince, what has become of you?  What has become of your life, my black prince?  Why is all this happening?

When I read Larry’s poems my soul reached out to him and his love, and my body longed for his, but when I read his letters I knew that I would not be able to see his face or to love him wildly or feverishly.  I was heartbroken.  Had I met my black prince only to lose him again, without even being able to meet him face to face?  I felt that life was blowing me about like a dry leaf in a hurricane.

There was nothing for me to do but to write Larry and tell him that I had discovered that he was truly my “black prince” - and not just as a term of endearment.

My love for Larry grew stronger from day to day.  I was deeply concerned about him, and his pain was as great as mine.  His letters were filled with suffering and pain and seemed to bleed like open wounds. 

Meanwhile the storm within me grew stronger.  Nothing but Larry’s poems were able to move me or calm me. 

Each morning I would go to the mailbox with my heart pounding, and when I opened it my heart would skip a beat if there was a letter from Larry.  My heart would pound until I was sure that everyone around me could hear it. 

 

 

My love, I have to admit that I became frightened and a little scared to think that we have been lovers in another time, and got to thinking what might have triggered this great wonder in us and I believe that eye contact may be the answer, for your eyes are the windows to your soul.

You have awoken the sleeping giant within me, and I need your love and direction.  One day I will come to you in the right way with an open heart.  I want to believe that love will cure me. 

I love you with my poems,

Prince Amour

 

 

 

Our love is a shadow

Of great loves. 

Our romance is a dream

Of great dreams. 

Our hearts are singing

A lovely melody.

 

         *

 

Has this love been

In hibernation?

 

 

Yes, Larry, our love is not a part of this world and it was hibernating for the winter.  But how can we fulfill it in the world we are in now?  I want to be with you, to love you, to feel your warm body.  My bed is cold and I need you beside me.  How can we meet?  How can we be together?  I have no money to come to you, and you have gotten lost in this world.

The phone calls with Tony irritated me, but he promised to send me a ticket to Los Angeles and to give me a place to stay and to treat me like a queen.  It was hard for me to resist this temptation that provided an easy solution.

 

  

My beloved Ellen,

Oh, how great is our love.  I can’t explain it either, but I believe that we were meant for each other, and nothing will separate us.

I truly believe that you will not be happy with the older gentleman! So why are you going to him? Don’t do anything that you will regret.  I am here and I am yours.  We can work it out, you’ll see.  I’ve given up my fears and I am ready to take my place in this world.  I only wish that you will be able to be by my side.

I am making progress.  I know the 12-step recovery program and what I need to do.  Maybe I can do steps 4 and 5 together with you.

There is an ancient legend about Village Amour, I think you should study it.  Remember, you are my white queen and I am your black prince, and we shared the greatest love.  Now we want to bring back Village Amour.  It’s in your hands.  Shall we go together or go our separate ways?  I don’t know what to think or how to deal with this.  I’ll read the book that you recommended as soon as my sister gets it for me. 

I’m overwhelmed that you worry about me, but I’m really okay and there is no need for you to worry, I am fine.  I’m used to these strange places and the strangers here are better friends to me than the people I drank alcohol and used drugs with.  These people are strangers, but they tell me that they will love me until I can love myself.  AA.  is a great altruistic movement, and  the people here really have unconditional love.

One good thing about being around people in recovery is that I find so much spirituality among them, and I myself begin to glow.  My true inner being is wonderfully gifted.  I am a truly skilled person but I’ve been afraid for so many years and I blocked out a lot of good that was supposed to happen to me and I started drinking during the late Robert Kennedy bid for presidency.  I passed out fliers, and I shook his hand during a parade.  I watched him die just before my birthday in June.

My dearest, you are right about one thing and that’s that I have to change my whole life.  I have to leave the life style I had.

At Acton I go to a lot of AA. meetings and I listen to people share things about how they stayed clean and sober.  They tell me that I don’t have to drink or use drugs no matter what.  They tell me about honesty, open-mindedness and willingness.  They tell me to take it easy. 

I have been around this program since 1975, when a judge ordered me to go to 30 meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous, but I wasn’t ready to quit drinking.  By 1984 I was arrested for drunk driving for the second time, and that’s when I started using cocaine.  I traded one problem for another.  It has cost me everything: my family, my respect, my daughter whom I love dearly and my job.  I worked for California State University, Los Angeles, for 12 years.  When I left the university all my co-workers couldn’t hold back their tears, but I had decided that I couldn’t go on the way I was going.  So I left work one day and didn’t call in for 10 days, so I really fired myself.   What a mistake!  I haven’t worked since October 31^st, 1989.  But I am told that I have to forgive myself.  And I learned not to wallow in self-pity.

Prince Amour.

 

 

After this letter I was certain that I had already seen everything that there was to see in the murky swamps of life.  I learned something about alcohol and cocaine, and about the 12-step recovery program.  In my mind’s eye I saw my black prince, who had gone from the broad expanses of land and beautiful sunsets where he had walked with glorious people to the crowded, dirty rehab centers, and it was beyond my comprehension.  More than ever I wanted to live with Larry, and more than ever I saw that the possibility of that ever happening was more and more remote.

My love for Larry made me consider changing all of my plans.  I wanted to abandon the plan to go and visit Tony and get to Larry directly somehow.  But Larry was in Acton in a rehabilitation center, and didn’t even have a place for me to stay, and I didn’t have enough money for a ticket or a hotel.  I was physically tired and even more exhausted mentally.  I felt that great powers of my insight were pulling me with increasing forces that were beyond my control.  Tony or no Tony, at least I could see Larry, even if only once.

 

 

My Dearest Sweet Ellen,

I don’t want to lose you but I can’t be with you or see you if you are with another man.  I can’t contact you if you are with another man.  Think about what you want most! Think about what we have found!  Don’t make me stop writing poetry for you.  If my soul is broken then my motive to write will be broken also.

I don’t know anymore.  I need time to think and to feel my own soul.  I have to know that you are free and single.  Then I can write with nothing in the way.  Now I am blocked from writing.  Even now I should be writing poetry but instead I must write these painful letters to you, in hope that you will understand and remain free and single.   I love you more than my words can express.  I have a fire inside me that won’t go out.  You are in my heart forever and we may never meet again for another thousand years, only I hope things will be different then.  I hope that we will meet really early in the next life.

Please!  Tell me that you are my woman and restore my love for you.  Leave this other man alone or we end our Romantic Journey and no more will be revealed to you and I will go to die a sad man with a broken soul hoping to find you again in the next life.  I need to cry! 

You say you love me, yet you are going to another man!  I can’t believe that you truly love me.  If you did, you would not do this to me, but since you are then how can I trust you or your love?

I will end my poetry writing to you and you will never hear from me again – get your older gentleman to write you poems!  I hate what you are about to do.  You don’t love me. 

I was only thinking today when to start and rewrite Village Amour.  You have been a big part in my poetry writing and I am grateful for it and I cherish it, but you can’t love me and live with someone else, it’s not good for neither of us.  I can’t be confused anymore.  My recovery depends on me having a clear mind and I don’t know how long I will be able to see you before you become a problem with me.  I used to drink and use drugs because of relationships.  I can’t deal with a woman I love who is living with someone older than Moses, (I’m sorry, I guess I am jealous myself, or have you forgotten I’m a man also).

I know I told you just the other day that things could be as you wish, and I would see you as often as you want – but now I realize that this will not work.  I am strong and that is why I have to tell you that I love you but I have to back off.  I do not mean to seem cold hearted.  Who else than you knows my love, but even now I have my limits and lines that I will not cross.  When I was drinking and using drugs I must have crossed every line there was.  I had no morals, no ethics.  I have to do the right thing today and seeing another man’s woman and feeling the way I feel about you is not going to work.  I still love you and respect you, I just don’t believe it to be a good idea for us to see each other.  I shall never forget you, only believe me that this is the best thing for us.  I am very sorry that we can’t even hold hands.

It really pains me to write you this letter.  I want to take all the words back but they are coming from within me and I can’t.  I want to take all the words back from my poems but they have already been written and revealed to you, but I can still keep that which has yet to be revealed and this is what I must do.

Love,

Larry

 

P. S.  This is my farewell to you.  The poems stop here.  I can’t compete with any other man.  Don’t look for me.  Live and enjoy.  

 

I have built myself a wall

Around you,

Now I’m in the middle.

The problem is you’re

Never in the picture.

 

I’m very insecure with

My feelings.

I have built this wall

With paper love

False hope and illusions.

 

I know that we will

Always be just friends,

I want it to be so much more

Yet I keep running into this wall.

 

I know now that the

Wall is you,

And the problem is with me.

Just because my liking for you

Could turn into love

Doesn’t mean you have to love me back!

 

 

I did not hear from Larry again for more than three weeks.  I missed his letters and poems and felt their absence like a flower craving for rain.  I wrote him endless letters, with one request: “Please, Larry, send me one poem, it can be just one short poem!  I miss you, Larry, and I can’t go on without you.”  He then sent me a series of short poems, that were no less wonderful than the longer ones.

 

 

Ellen, my love, have you ever wanted something but knew you couldn’t have it and the closer you saw yourself drawn to it, the more afraid you got?

Forget Everything And Run – FEAR – so this is what happened to me.  I became really afraid.

I hope that explains why I put distance between us.  I tried not to get hurt myself, instead I hurt you and that was wrong on my part.  I got brokenhearted without even thinking or taking your feelings into consideration, which was a major oversight on my part.  It was just being selfish.  Will you forgive me? I promise not to let it happen again.

Truly, we can’t go on hurting each other like this.

Ellen my love, I never knew that your feelings for my poems were that strong.  I also badly missed writing you these past few weeks. 

I still love you, even more so now than before.  I never knew that love was so powerful and that I was so powerless. 

You asked a very serious question and I don’t know how to answer it.  What did you mean when you asked  “Suppose I wanted to come to you?  How do you see us getting along with it?”  I’m so confused.  And what about the older gentlemen that you are coming to see in Los Angeles?

I want to cry, but I can’t.  Whatever is going to happen, I wish it was over so we can both know exactly what to do.  

 

 

Larry sent me You are still My True Desire.  I loved it as I did all Larry’s other poems, but something else became clear to me: I could not live without Larry and his poems. 

 

 

You are still my true desire,

And I remember our lovemaking

Was good,

And we had wild and crazy adventures,

Oh, we were so very young at heart.

We spent time in Village Amour, 

I remember the excitement

That carried us on wonders of love. 

I remember the waterfall

That we swam in and I chased you

Behind it. 

There a cave was hidden and it was

Our secret cave, for no one knew about it.

 

 

Oh Ellen, I don’t want to lose you! Please come to me and touch my hand so I can look into your eyes and see the beauty in your heart.  You are deserving of every poem I write and I know it – you are very deserving indeed, only I’m very hurt and confused.  Why is poetry in my blood now, Ellen? Why have I just begun to write six month before I wrote to you? Why have the poems come forth?

I’m almost sorry that I met you, and that I have begun to write these poems.  Knowing that I can’t have you is a deep feeling of insecurity, a loss, a very shameful heartbreaking experience.  I wish I could understand as you do, only I am writing these poems that are driving you wild, and to be honest with you, I haven’t really written anything in days.  I don’t even read the poems I have written.  I’m thinking: What’s the use? I’ve attracted you but I can’t hold on to you, so why write poems anymore? Maybe it was all a mistake?! I don’t know the answer to this question and I don’t know if you know.  Maybe we are destined to repeat our life again in some other time if we can’t correct it in this life?

Some of your letters I don’t know how to answer, so I won’t, but let me tell you this: I am often in the dark about myself and the changes that I make do not happen overnight.  It is a process that I must go through, so please darling, do not be too critical of me when I tell you that I am trying to change, will you? I beg you to be more supportive of my recovery and a little less critical.  I need your support and love more now than I ever needed anything in my life.  I need your encouragement, so please be nice.  I love you and I want to be with you now and forever but the changes I make will take time and only I will know when I am ready.  I promise you it won’t be long.

Darling, I know that you love me and I understand why we can’t be together right now.  All I ask you is to be patient and wait for this storm to pass, for love will conquer all.  I really believe that we will grow even stronger in our love. 

 I do want to continue on our Romantic Journey.  And who else can understand my poems but you? I only write them and anyway I don’t understand what I’m writing.

 

Let’s take a magic potion ride

Through the fantasy of your mind,

Your heart will take a walk

And go with me.

I’m the first lover that you

Held in your arms,

This is love’s magic parade

And we are the grand masters.

 

 

Sweet Ellen, I don’t know what exactly it is that we are about to discover, but I sense that great things will come about and you and I have something to do with it. 

By the time you receive this letter I’ll be moving from Acton to Pasadina to live in a sober living house.  I’m on the waiting list but it might take me a while before I can move in.  I’m due to leave on December  3^rd, but if they don’t have room then I will have to wait for an opening.  Anyway, when you arrive in L. A. call my mother and find out where I am.  Please don’t lose my mother’s address or phone number.

I don’t know how to tell you about life in Los Angeles.  Gangs make people fearful.  Crime is the high price people have to pay for living in the city.  People are not friendly.  Downtown L. A. is full of homeless persons.  Don’t go downtown by yourself!  Never buy anything from street peddlers.  Don’t flash money around suspicious looking people.  Don’t drive alone at night.  Use your best judgment, and be very aware and careful. 

Yesterday evening I was thinking and a strange name came to my mind: Munatuba.  Does this name mean anything to you?  I don’t understand it at all.

 

 

Munatuba?  Munatuba!  That name is familiar to me, but where does it and its familiar ring come from?  It can only be from Village Amour.  But where was Village Amour? 

The sound of that name penetrated my being.  Tears began to roll down my cheeks.   

I weighed the possibility of staying in Israel, but the thought of continuing my work in the hated beauty salon made me reject that idea.  I already had the one-way ticket that Tony had sent me.  I continued to move only on the power of inertia, and my head was empty of thought.  I wanted desperately to see Larry, and the only way to do that was to go to Los Angeles.

 

*   *   *  

 

  On December of 1994, I stood in Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv waiting for my flight to Los Angeles 

At last I was on my way to meet Tony, but I was actually going to see Larry.  I went out through the long passage and could not identify my feelings.  There was nothing there, and I felt hollow when I finally saw Tony standing there.  My knees gave way when I saw the unattractive man from my dream. 

I walked up to Tony like a robot.  His skin was more like a grayish-yellowish-white than black.  The blue windbreaker that I had seen in the pictures he had sent me was covered with old coffee stains.  His pants and shoes had seen better days.  The robot in me tried to kiss Tony because it was the proper thing to do.  But there was something revolting in his movements.  His breath had an unpleasant smell of cigarettes, and I saw that he had unattractive teeth. 

We arrived at a fairly clean apartment with three small rooms.  Everything was cold and unfamiliar.  Tony put down my suitcases, sat down next to the small dining room table and lit himself a cigarette.  I was anticipating a festive meal in honor of my arrival, but there was no hint at a meal.  When I asked for a drink, Tony brought me a can of Cola.

Finally he took some cold cuts and pickles out of the refrigerator.  I was hungry and I made myself a sandwich.  I waited for the ring that I had been promised, but its fate was the same as that of the festive meal: it was never mentioned and would never come.  My automatic robot presented Tony with the gifts I had prepared.  He placed the small packages aside and continued smoking his cigarette.

“Tony, don’t you want to see what I brought you from Israel?”

“Later.  I don’t get particularly excited about presents.”

“What do you get excited about?”

“I never thought about it.” 

We sat there in the small dining room, and there was something inconceivable and bizarre about the situation.  Luckily, Tony did not try to touch me, or even to come closer to me.

Finally he said tersely, “It’s late, I think we should go to sleep.  I have to get up early tomorrow morning and go to work.”

“But you said you would take ten days off work to spend with me!”

“It didn’t work out.”

“So what will I do all day tomorrow alone in the house?”

“Just rest.  I’ll be back by three o’clock.”

I didn’t answer.  Tony got up and went into the bedroom.  I opened my suitcase, took out my toiletries kit, and went into the bathroom.  I washed my face and brushed my teeth.  My automatic robot also went to sleep in Tony’s room, in the bed where he slept.  Tony was already snoring. 

My jet lag kept me awake and I tossed and turned, but sleep would not come.  I got up, went to the kitchen, and began opening cabinets, searching for a jar of coffee.  When I found it I began to try and figure out how to light the gas.  I succeeded in figuring out how to work the switch.  The water in the kettle boiled, and I was pouring coffee and adding milk from the refrigerator when I suddenly felt Tony’s presence behind me.  I turned around and saw him standing there, an angry look on his face. 

“What are you doing?  Why are you making coffee in the middle of the night?” he said angrily.  “You’re making a racket!  None of the neighbors have ever complained about me.  Do you want to get me into trouble?”

 I didn’t understand what was happening.  I thought that perhaps Tony was joking, and I even smiled at him, but I quickly saw that he was genuinely angry.

“I don’t agree for you get up and do whatever you want in the middle of the night!”

“If I need to, I will.  I’m not in prison.  What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

Tony didn’t answer, but went back to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. I went to sleep on the sofa in the living room.  

The next morning when I woke up Tony was already gone.  At eleven o’clock Larry called, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Larry I’m so happy to hear your voice.  How are you?”

“I’m okay, Ellen, and I’m happy to hear from you.  How are you, dear?”

“I’m okay, Larry.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.  When can I see you?”

“I can see you tomorrow.  I’ll be all right here in Pasadena somehow.  But what’s with you?  What’s with your older gentlemen?  How does he take it when I call you there?”

“It’s all right, Larry.  Don’t worry about him.  There’s nothing going on between us.”

“What do you mean?  I don’t understand.”

“It’s not important, Larry.  We’ll talk about it.  I want to see you.”

“You don’t sound happy.  Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.  I just want to see you.  I love you and I miss you.”

Larry said he would meet me at the Fox Hills shopping mall at noon the next day. 

 

I woke up the next day full of excitement.  At last I would meet Larry.  When an empty taxi stopped I got in and told the driver where I wanted to go.  I saw the large building of the mall from far away.  Larry saw the approaching cab, got up from the bench where he had been sitting and started walking towards it. 

He came up and embraced me, and I wrapped my arms around him.  I closed my eyes and the only thing I managed to murmur was , “Oh, my Munatuba, my love, my Munatuba, oh Munatuba.”  I began to cry and I wanted to engrave that moment in eternity, but eternity had already been engraved in that moment a long time ago. 

“Ellen my dear, why are you crying?  Please don’t cry, please.”

“Oh, Munatuba, I never knew how much I would miss you!  Oh, my sweet Larry!” 

We stood there embracing for a long time, and it seemed that time stood still. 

“Ellen, sweetheart, come, let’s go to some quiet place.  I’ve brought all my poems with me.  I want to show them to you.”

We began walking towards the hotel near the shopping mall.  After Larry had paid for a room we went to the elevator and went up to the third floor.  We could not stop embracing each other, and our lips met in a warm kiss.  I kissed his face, eyes, nose, and hands, and he murmured things that I did not understand and kissed me in return.  At last we fell on the bed and lay there in complete silence, locked in an eternal embrace that brought us back to Village Amour. 

 

“Larry, are you ready to show me your poems?  Can we read them now?” I asked quietly.

“Of course,” he said.  “I brought them for you, darling,” and handed me a black folder containing dozens of pages. 

I began to read.  There were poems that I recognized which he had already sent me, and some new ones as well.  There were also many stories.  I separated the stories from the poems, and decided to read them later.

“There are poems here that reveal other things about Village Amour.”

“Ellen, I only write them.  I told you, I don’t understand what I’m writing and I’m afraid of what you are telling me.  Sometimes I believe that everything you say is true, and it scares me.”

“Larry, it’s not a question of believing or not believing.  The things I tell you are true whether you believe them or not.  I don’t even know the whole story, but I  have no doubt that what I know is true.  Where do you think all the information that you are writing about in your poems came from?”

I continued to read and a void of sadness opened up within me.  I closed my eyes.  Larry lay quietly next to me.  After I finished reading the stories of his difficult life, I read his poems again.  We must have laid like this for a long time, because when I looked out the window again darkness was falling on the city. 

Larry spoke.  “Do you have to go back?  I want to stay here with you tonight.  I don’t want to leave you.  I want to sleep in your arms.” 

“I’ll stay with you tonight, Larry.” 

“What about your older gentlemen?”

“Forget about him.  He’s crazy.  I have to leave anyway and go back to Israel.  I don’t have any choice.”

“What’s wrong, Ellen?  I don’t understand.  Are you in any danger?  Maybe it would be better if you didn’t go back there.”

“All of my things are there and I don’t have anywhere else to go.  You’re in that rehab center in Pasadena, and my daughter is in Dallas, and I’m ashamed to tell her everything that is going on.  Where do you want me to sleep, in the street?  Don’t worry, my love, I’ll be all right, really.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.  You see, if I hadn’t gone to stay with him, I wouldn’t be able to be with you now.  Do you understand that, Larry?”

“Yes, I think you’re right, and I can hardly believe that I’m really holding you in my arms.  I’m so happy when I’m with you, Ellen.”

We undressed and embraced as we had done in the hundreds of Larry’s poems that told of what we did in the past.  Larry’s warm touch awakened all my feelings, and I knew that with him everything would be all right.  There was something in our embrace that was not sexual at all.  It was a meeting between two souls who remembered something from the Fantasy Wonderland, there in the far off land of wonders where Village Amour once had been.

 

*   *   *  

 

After I had collected my suitcases from Tony’s apartment, I took a taxi to Larry’s mother house.  When I came in a small woman met me smiling broadly.

“Welcome, Ella, you’re here at last!  I’m so happy to see you.  Please come in.”  She hugged me warmly.  I froze for a moment, since only my mother had called me “Ella”.

“This is my mother, Pinki,” said Larry.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Pinki, and glad to be here,” I said.

Pinki was a small, thin, energetic woman.  Her skin was very light and she looked like a delicate china doll.

Larry said very little.  I always thought I was a quiet person, but compared to Larry I was quite talkative.  During our first few days together it was difficult for me to understand this because I could not find the connection between the Larry who had written me the letters and poems, and the Larry who now lived here with me.  But this didn’t bother me.  I was happy with him until the day my happiness turned to sorrow. 

One Saturday when the California winter sun was shining brightly, Larry decided to take me on a trip to Long Beach.  We walked along the promenade together with many others until we reached to the beach.  It was very different from the white beach of Village Amour, where the black prince had walked with his white queen.  The beach at Long Beach was neglected at this time of year, and piles of litter were scattered on the sand, which was more brown than white.  When the walk ended we were both tired.  

That night Larry fell asleep immediately, but I was restless.  I went out to the back yard and sat down on a wooden bench.  The night was bright and the sky was filled with stars. 

I stood near the control tower.  I knew that this was the hour of doom and All Endings.  Suddenly something huge and shining loomed in the sky.  I looked at the shining object approaching and my eyes were dazzled, but I continued to watch.  When the object was very close I saw that it was a huge bell-shaped spaceship with belts of shining lights surrounding it.  The lights illuminated thick fog around the ship until it appeared as bright as daylight. 

When the ship was very close I saw that it was the Mother Ship.  I waved and gave a sign of greeting with my right hand. 

The Mother Ship hovered near me for some time but did not land.  I wanted to see them badly, but it was too far away.  I was very sad, but I was not afraid.  I knew that no harm would come to me and that the critical moment of All Endings had passed.

The next morning Larry asked me how I had slept.  I asked him to sit down next to me and told him what had happened in the back yard the night before. 

“Ellen, you scare me with your stories.  I don’t understand anything about spaceships, and even less about All Endings.  It scares me, Ellen.  Do you know what it’s supposed to be?”

“No, I don’t understand anything either.  I was never interested in spaceships, or anything having to do with them.  I don’t understand any of it, and I don’t know what it has to do with… Larry, I was so close to them, I could almost touch them!  And I knew how to greet them.  The sign I made with my hand was very strange.  But I know that it’s the sign they use to greet each other.” 

 

*   *   *  

 

When we returned home that night Larry came to bed shortly after me.  I embraced him, but he seemed cold and alienated.  For several days I had sensed this change in Larry, and my suspicions grew stronger. 

“Give me a kiss, Larry,” I asked him, trying to curl up in his arms.

“No, let’s go to sleep,” he answered  “I have to practice self-discipline, don’t you understand?”

“What are you talking about?  Why do you have to do that right now, with me?  You said you couldn’t live without a woman, and that you did nothing but chase women… I only asked you for a goodnight kiss…”

“It’s the same thing.  It has to do with self-discipline.”

“Larry, what about the love between us?  What about our plans for the future?” 

He didn’t answer.

“Larry, I’m talking to you!”

“What do you want from me?  You didn’t come here to see me, you came to see that other guy!  I told you not to come, that it wasn’t the right time.  I’m recuperating and I shouldn’t be going through any difficulties right now.  But you wanted to come and see your old guy.  So what do you want from me?”

“But I love you, Larry.  Don’t you understand that the only way I could see you was to come see him?  He’s nothing.  I want to be with you, to stay with you.  But you’re pushing me away.  I don’t understand…”

“You’re a tramp!”

“What’s a ‘tramp’?”

“Go look it up in your dictionary!” he said irritably.  I got up and left the room and ran into Pinki’s room, sobbing.

“What happened, Ella?” asked Pinki.  

I told her what had happened. 

“Ella, dear, I love Larry very much, but all I can do is pray for him and ask God to show him the way.  Larry has made a lot of mistakes, and God has been merciful to him.  I will pray to Him and ask Him not to abandon Larry.  That’s all I can do.  Come honey, sleep in my bed.”

 

Larry didn’t come home that day or that night.  I was filled with apprehension.  He returned the following evening, said nothing and went straight to his room.  His face showed so much pain that I could not bear it.  I went after him and found him sitting on his narrow bed.  I took his face in my hands, and caressed and kissed him warmly.  He leaned his head against me and sighed.

“Where have you been, Larry?  I was so worried.”

“I’m no good, Ellen.  I’m no good for you, don’t you understand?  I’m sick,” he said weakly.

“Larry, were you drinking, or did you take anything?”

Larry didn’t answer me.

“Larry, answer me!”

“Ellen, I did something really awful yesterday.  I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Did you take drugs, Larry?  Is that it?”

“No… worse.  I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

The next morning I asked Larry,  “I’m still waiting for you to tell me what you did.  Did you go to see another woman?”

Larry shook his head.

“So what did you do, Larry?”

“I stole some money from your purse.”

“What?!”

“Go see for yourself.”

At that moment I felt as if an abyss had opened to engulf me.  I opened my purse and took out my wallet where I kept my larger bills.  There had been three hundred dollars there.  It was now empty. 

“Larry, you’ve taken everything!  Why?  I still need to save up money to go back to Israel.  How do you think I’m going to get back home?”

“For all I care you can walk to Haifa.” 

“Larry, Why did you take all my money?  How much can you drink or use with three hundred dollars? And what am I supposed to do now?”

I left the room.  My throat was choked with tears and I felt dull.  Pinki was standing in the kitchen.  She looked at me, dropped the plate that was in her hand, and rushed over to me.  “Ella, what happened?  What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t answer. 

“Ella, please tell me what’s wrong!”

“It’s Larry… it’s Larry… He’s taken all my money!” I sobbed.

 

*   *   *  

 

I got up and went into Larry’s room.  He was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling.  I sat on the edge of the bed holding his hand

“Larry, I love you.  I’m not angry at you.  Maybe I shouldn’t have come.  I’m sorry, Larry.”

He stroked my hand and held it as if he would fall into an abyss if he let go.

“Larry, I’m leaving in a few days.  Will you be all right?”

“God knows… I hope so,” he whispered.  After a minute or so he added brokenly, “I’m sorry, Ellen, but I didn’t know how to cope with the strength of your love… It was too much for me… I don’t know how to cope with feelings.  I know I’ve got a problem and that’s why I told you not to come.”

There was a long silence, after which I asked, “Will you come with me to the airport?”

“Yes, I’ll come.”

 

Larry came with me to the airport.  As I wept, Larry said, “I want to cry also, Ellen, but I can’t.  I don’t remember the last time I cried… Maybe I never did… I don’t remember.”

“Will you write to me, Larry?” I asked.  I held him as if I wanted to remember his touch for the rest of my life.

“Yes, I’ll write to you.  I promise.”

 

I fastened my seat belt.  A haze of pain surrounded me.  My tears were so hot that I felt as if my cheeks were burning.  The roar of the motors of the plane mingled with the commotion that was inside me. 

The plane lifts smoothly and I look down and see that pillars of fire and smoke are engulfing the land below, and finally the Great Water engulfs it into its murky depths and continues to roil in supernatural force.  And my black prince is on the great sailing ship, there within the fire and smoke, and I know that my beloved Mu and my beloved black prince are lost forever.

A hand takes my baby from me, AnTaMu and RaMu are sitting quietly beside me, and they were always such good children. 

My life passes before my eyes: I am leaving Antaris, traveling in the Mother Ship and afterwards the flat ship.  I disembark from the flat ship and MuOr is leading me by the hand. 

I remember how difficult it was for me to be in that beautiful place that I am now leaving forever.  My talks with MuOr in his chamber, the walks with him along the lotus-covered lake, and my beautiful black prince.  My wedding.  Oh, how handsome my prince looked on our wedding day.  He promised to love me forever and his words still echo in my ears, “EltaMu, my white queen, you have given me your love and made me the happiest man in the world.  Love me forever, my queen.”

OroiVu passes before my eyes, the births of AnTaMu, of RaMu and the baby.  The dolphins and the turtles.  I am afraid of what will become of them.  Suddenly I remember that all the dolphins and turtles had fled when danger loomed.  Only my black prince remained there in the pillars of fire and smoke, and the Great Water engulfed him.

Why?  Why didn’t you come with me, my black prince?  You promised me that you would love me forever.  Why were you afraid to fly with us to Shu-Meru?

And the silent landing in ShuMeru.  The sadness and longing and sorrow.  But the children are the light of my life.  AnTaMu, and Mu Razi, who admired her work in the House of Learning.  And RaMu, who was Mu Razi’s aide, who knows how to operate the Koren and Poehm.  And the baby, who is now a beautiful boy, and his skin is black like that of his father’s.

And KaKum1!  Oh, I don’t like the feeling that this memory brings.  I prefer to remain with MuOr in ShuMeru, near my children. And last of all, I saw how the People of Universe embalmed my body.

Suddenly the voice of the flat ship commander sounded, “Please fasten your seat belts.  We will be landing in New York in twenty minutes.”

Where is New York?  Where is the baby?  And where is AnTaMu?  And RaMu?  I look for MuOr to ask him what happened, and am surprised to see a strange man sitting next to me.  I ask him, “Have you seen MuOr?”  The man looks at me in confusion and answers, “Excuse me, ma’am?”  After a second I regain my composure and answer, “No, no, nothing, sir, pardon me.”

The plane lands.  I look around and the people, the way they are dressed, and their language, are all strange.  I don’t know where to go or what to do, and want to ask someone what to do after leaving the flat ship, but I don’t know the language.  I sit down on a strange yellow chair, close my eyes, and try to make some sense of everything that has happened.  How is it that I am in New York and not in ShuMeru?  Where is MuOr?  Where has he gone?  And where has he taken the children?  I don’t know what to do. 

Larry’s image slowly appears before me.  I see him standing in the airport in Los Angeles, waving.  Pinki’s house.  Tony.  Israel.  Haifa.  Suddenly I understand that I relived my entire life with Larry there, on Mu.  But where was Mu?  It certainly wasn’t in Africa and my name in Mu was ElTaMu.  So where was I called Kavi?  Larry died on Mu.  All this is too much for me.

And the flat ship was the same one that accompanied the Mother Ship that I saw in the back yard of Pinki’s house.

And Antaris?  Suddenly I longed for Antaris.  But I was in New York and had to get to Israel.  And my black prince was back there in Los Angeles.

 

Memories of the beautiful place that sank into the water followed me everywhere.  I knew that there had been a continent called Atlantis that sank into the ocean for one reason or another, but the place where I had come from in the flat ships was not Atlantis, but Mu.  I read everything I could get my hands on about Atlantis, but the descriptions of the place did not fit my memories of my former life on Mu.

I began to study and found that there was another ancient continent that sank long before Atlantis.  It was called Mu, and was more commonly known as Lemuria.  I later learned that Atlantis was actually part of the great Empire of the Sun, which was also called Mu.

 

Larry sent me Wedding bells of Village Amour, The Winds of Time and The Last Temple and I felt that he was getting close to something that had been lying deep in his soul for a long time.  I also knew why he was frightened, but how could I tell him?  He had to discover the entire story for himself, because only then would he be able to continue on, and maybe find peace in his soul at last.

Larry became more and more engrossed in the story of Village Amour, and any doubts I had about anything that had been revealed to me about our lives together on Mu vanished.  The picture was now complete and now I was afraid.  I knew about the end of Village Amour and I was afraid of what Larry’s reaction would be when it was revealed to him.

 

The End of the Story of Village Amour

 

In the land of Village Amour,

Where happiness prevails

The order of the day was

Accepting wisdom,

The highest form of wisdom

Known in this universe.

The more people reached to the heights

The higher we took ourselves

In the universe.

The powers of men were unbelievable,

The influence of the presence

Of the healing prince,

Who would often walk through the sunsets,

Healing people of other worlds,

But never his own.

He would take cosmic journeys

For years,

Returning only to leave again shortly. 

The last thing I remember

Was going through the sunset,

Only when I returned home

It was at the bottom of the ocean.

 

 

I read Larry’s poem and his account about the end of the story of Village Amour, which was at the bottom of the ocean, and I began to tremble with a great wave of energy.  What Larry wrote was the end of the story of Village amour – it was at the bottom of the ocean.

 

*   *   * 

 

One evening, when I had finished writing the story of my lives up to this point, I thought about what I had written about my relationships with men, about the love with Larry, The love with my children, the Earth, and MuOr, the People of Universe, and the sorrow and I turned to MuOr.

“Dear MuOr, I am afraid I will never learn to live on Earth.  I miss Antaris, its purity, the feelings of safety and fullness, the energy that surrounded me there… I miss it …”

“Ta, my child, I can understand the difficulties that you sometimes feel on Earth, and I can understand your longings for Antaris and the flows of energy there, but think, my child:  What happened before Antaris?  Where were you before you lived on Antaris?”

“I understand what you mean, dear MuOr, but I am afraid that I will never know what happened before Antaris,” I answered, feeling my eyes fill with tears.

“You will know.  You are closer to knowing than you think.  Look in your inner self, in your being.  The answer is so close that it is before your eyes.  You are almost touching it.  And don’t be afraid.  I am with you.  I am on the road beside you.  I have never left you.”

“MuOr, dear beloved MuOr, I know that,” I said and I felt a wave of love rise up and engulf me.

The communication terminated and I was left to ponder the question.  What was before Antaris?  Would I ever know the answer?

What was before Antaris?  What was before Antaris? 

The question echoed within me as I went out for an evening walk.   When I returned home I continued to read The Zen Manifesto [2].  It was there that I found the answer to what was before Antaris, and it was right in front of me: 

The whole idea of reincarnation, that the self goes on moving from one body to another body, from one life to another life is misconception.  It is true that when a person dies his being becomes part of the whole.  But he had also something called mind, the memory.  In the past the information was not available to explain memory as a bundle of thoughts and thought waves, but now it is easier.  The simple truth is that when a person dies, his memory travels into a new womb – not the self.

I began to tremble, and a bolt of lightening struck my inner being.

When you are dying, you will leave memories all around the air.  And if you have been miserable, all your miseries will find some location; they will enter into some other memory system.  Either they will enter totally into a single womb – that’s how somebody remembers one’s past.  But it is not your past.

A second bolt of lightening struck me.

You can remember your previous incarnation, your past, but it was somebody else’s mind that you have inherited.

A third bolt of lightening struck me, that was even stronger than the others.

Very few people died in joy.  Very few people have died with the realization of no-mind.  They don’t leave a trace behind.  They don’t burden anybody else with their memory.  They simply disperse into the universe.  They don’t have any mind and they don’t have any memory system.  They have already dissolved it in their meditations.  That’s why the enlightened person is never born; unless he chooses to do so.

But the unenlightened people go on throwing out, with every death, all kinds of misery.  Like attracts like; misery attracts more misery.  If you are miserable, then misery will travel to you  – you are the right vehicle.  The unenlightened people go on reincarnating in their memories and it becomes every day thicker and thicker. 

There is no incarnation, but misery incarnates.

Wounds of millions of people are moving around you, just in search of somebody who is willing to be miserable.  Of course, the blissful does not leave any trace.  The man of awakening dies the way a bird moves into the sky, without making a track or a path.  The sky remains empty.  Blissfulness moves without making any trace.  That’s is why you don’t get any inheritance from enlightened people; they simply disappear.

Your own consciousness has no wounds.

Your own consciousness knows nothings of misery.

Your own consciousness is innocent, utterly blissful.   

     Now I knew the pain of truth.  The understanding of the truth of happiness struck me like lightening, and all at once I understood what MuOr meant when he asked me what was before Antaris.  It was the Ocean of existence – The Ocean that was always there.  And the Ocean that will always be.  The Ocean is existence.  Life.  Eternity. 

Before Antaris, after Antaris, before Mu and after Mu, the Ocean was always here and would be forever.  Absolute eternity.

Antaris was a chapter, just like Mu was a chapter, like Africa was a chapter and like now.  Like waves in the ocean. 

Perhaps there was some desolation on Antaris that I don’t remember, but MuOr had already said that not everything was perfect there.  I remember the desolation on Mu well, the sinking of that beloved continent, death, and the sorrow of the love that sank to the ocean depths.  Memories of that desolation went to Africa, and in Africa there was even greater desolation, and added to that was the desolation of Antaris and Mu, and these memories passed on to the present. 

I needed water… water, I needed to feel water… all those flashing of lightening, and thunders… I went into the shower and there I had an enlightenment.  The hot water flowed and I knew that the desolation of Ta was passed on to ElTaMu, and those memories were passed on to Kavi and on to Elizabeth Ellen Ella… That was enough!  All that lightening filed my being, and I understood:

I am not Ta, and I am not ElTa – Ta the Emissary, and I am not ElTaMu and I am not Kavi and I am not Elizabeth or Ellen or Ella.  I am not any of these beings.  My authenticity is the original purity.  It always was, even when the personality took on itself the mask of “I”.  My authenticity is the entire eternity.  It is the Ocean that is always here, complete and perfect in itself, that knows nothing of what passes over its tiny ripples.

 

I resigned from the Miserable Souls Club and returned home – to my true authenticity.  My attachment to Larry ended at once.  My sadness over ElTa’s and Kavi’sa men also ended immediately.  It was no longer important to me whether or not I lived with one of ElTa’s or Kavi’s men.  It was no longer important to me whether or not I met ElTa’s third child.  I knew that I had completed all the tasks of the soul who had changed places with me when I was four years old.  I was wounded by my understanding of love.  And I bled joyfully.  The love that filled me was greater than I had ever felt before.  It depended on nothing and no one, and it filled my entire being.  It exceeded the boundaries of my body, and made me One with the universe. 

After this enlightenment I realized that Larry had known this secret long before I did, but neither of us understood it at that time.  I reread his poem Revelation Amour and saw that in the first row he had written that the place we are looking for is within our thoughts.  Yes, this place, Mu, Africa, the great love – all this was in our minds, in our memories – memories we inherited.  This discovery was much greater then the revelation itself.  

And the secret within the secret is that these memories can bring me something good, and I can use the knowledge and skills that those women obtained in the past.  But I must return them and not carry them forth or cling to them.  I must dissolve them with the help of consciousness and love.  I was grateful to all those women whose memories I had inherited, who had so much love, wisdom, and knowledge.

The energy of love began to envelope me.  The transmissions were very subtle, and my entire being listened.

“My dear child, now you know,” MuOr transmitted. 

“Yes, beloved MuOr, I know.  Before Antaris there was the Ocean of eternity.  Why did I begin to experience my existence only after I became one drop of it?”

“This is the holy mystery that we wish to bequeath to the people of Earth.  This mystery cannot be transformed into mere knowledge.  Thinking is finite and limited, and therefore it can never conceive a phenomenon that is infinite and unlimited.  There is no explanation.”

“Is this your existence today, MuOr?  Is it the Ocean?“

“Yes, my child, the Ocean is my existence today.”

“Now I was enlightened about this truth, but what is beyond the enlightenment?”

“The Shunyam, my child, the Nothingness that is Fullness, that is Everything.  That is what is beyond the enlightenment – for we should not cling to the enlightenment.  The great emptiness is the essence of being.  It is the Shunyam.”  Mu Or answered what I already knew in the depths of my soul.  I closed my eyes and saw all the tiny pieces made up the entire puzzle. 

The first awakening and knowledge that I was nothing and that I am nothing and will always remain nothing, and that my present mind is only a drop in the Ocean was painful. But the ecstasy of understanding that I am nothing that contains everything, and that I am part of the Ocean, just as I am the entire Ocean lifted me to the heights of solace on which I accepted happily that I am Shunya.

I then perceived that there was one more stage to pass.  I asked MuOr, “And how am I to cross the passage over the enlightenment?”

“Be confident, my child, as you have always been,” MuOr transmitted to me.  “The passage across the enlightenment comes with the passage itself, but you will have to experience that for yourself.  When you make that passage you will know.  Just as the enlightenment has no explanation, neither does the passage after the enlightenment.  It cannot be explained, it must be experienced.”

 

During the days after the enlightenment, I dove into the void of Shunyam, and the Shunyam became more and more empty and black, and I was drawn into it and felt that I was disappearing from the universe.  All was lost to me, all my identities, all my names and points in reality that I could hold on to were lost, and only pure existence remained.  I had no more questions, and wanted no answers.  I was drawn into a black hole in which I completely dissolved.  And there was nobody, because I didn’t have a body any more.  I was just flowing energy, and I became part of the existence and the eternity, and they cradled me in their infinite arms, and it was very sweet and healing.                                  

The days following the enlightenment were days of whirling within the black hole, and in the end I just disappeared within its blackness. 

My soul trembled within the black hole, but MuOr came and gave me his hand, and at that point in existence in timelessness, I knew that the black hole was the passage over the enlightenment. 

Worlds are born from white holes in the same way that worlds disappear into black holes.  If there are holes in the universe where things simply disappear into non-existence, there must also be holes in non-existence from which things are born into the existence. 

Nothingness is like a two-sided coin: On one side, the nothingness is a black hole with a black door through which things disappear.  On the other side, it is a white hole with a white door – a womb through which things are born. 

After the enlightenment we enter a void of nothingness.  All existence disappears; the experience disappears; the I that is experiencing disappears and the only thing left is pure nothingness pregnant with fullness, and complete silence: the ultimate experience – death – before the physical death.

I floated within the tunnel of the black hole in that eternal passage, and I found the white door and opened it, and returned to this existence.  But there within the black hole everything was lost – The “I”, my self, all my inherited memories –  and the enlightenment.  I was freed from myself, and I emerged from the opening of the white hole and looked around like a newborn baby.  My rebirth was completely natural.  I was like an innocent newborn baby with an innocent existence.  Nothing around me had changed.  But everything was different because I had complete freedom.

 

*   *   * 

 

It took me almost a whole year to write my story, during which I had no contact with Larry.  I then wrote him a letter and asked his permission to use his poems.  This was on August 26^th, 1994.

That day Larry sat in San Pedro, California in a rehabilitation center for drug addicts, and wrote me:

“I know that today for some reason you need me…. Maybe we have a date with destiny, you and I.”  In this letter he told me that for the last few months he had not touched alcohol or drugs. 

Today he is contributing from his personal experience while helping other people with substance abuse problems through A. A., where he shears his experiences in public.  He is also learning a new profession. 

With the letter came the poem Red Roses Forever.

 

Red roses upon your pillow

Forever,

Pause while I sign

And take a deep breath.

You are simply radiant,

Lavishing against our sunsets.

While the moon and the stars

Capture your smile,

You hold them captive

'Till the end of time,

Just as my heart belongs to you.

I am under your spell,

Red roses forever. 

 Elle Shunya

To contact Ella Shunya please call 04-8644885 (if calling international: 972-4-8644885, or leave a message here and I'll be back to you soon.

 

 [1] Elim - Hebrew for Gods.

 [2] Lemuria.

 [3] El - Ancient Hebrew and Babylonian word for God.  The addition of the suffix “a” is the  feminine form, thus “El.A” or “Goddess”.  The name “ElTa” therefore means “The Goddess Ta”, or “The Emissary Ta”. 

 [4] A similar device was also used in ancient Egypt, where it was called an AnKh.

[5]  Tefilin – A pair of black boxes containing a parchment with a hand-written passage from Torah, and worn by Jews on their upper arm and forehead during prayer. 

[6]   A four-cornered, striped fringed garment worn by Jews since Biblical times.

 [5]  A vest-like garment that was part of the vestments of the high priest of the Israelites.

 [6] A gem-studded breastplate worn by the high priest.

 [7] Ancient Shumer

 

 [1] Yoruba for “Shangoma, the Wise Guardian of the Secret”

 [2] Ancient Egypt

 

 

 

 [1] Ella Shunya, Mysteries of my Ancestor’s House, Gal Publishers, Tel Aviv, 1997.

1 Ancient Egypt.

[2] Osho, The Zen Manifesto, Rebel Publishing House.