Chapter 10
And Amen
To Eduardo, the announcement of the winning candidate would be anticlimactic. It would place an extraordinary event back into a context of competition. This night, all were winners. All were equally loved of God and he had showered upon all those present a manifestation of his love.
Fumblingly, he tried to express this to Anneliese, asking her leave to go out into the open air under God's sky, where his soul could continue to soar upward and the moment would be prolonged. The stars were brightly shining, their immense size reduced to twinkling pinpoints by inconceivably enormous distances. Lalo recalled Blaise Pascal's pensée about mankind: Just the right size in the universe. Infinitely smaller than a pinpoint compared with a star but huge beyond all comprehension in comparison with the atoms, the electrons, the quarks, composing our mortal bodies.
Just right! Read these words of Martin Rees, Britain's Astronomer Royal, from his book Just Six Numbers (slightly paraphrased):
These six numbers constitute a recipe for the universe. If any one of the numbers* were different even to the tiniest degree, there would be no stars, no complex elements, no life. The improbability of this occurring could be compared to the possibility of a Boeing 747 aircraft being completely assembled as a result of a tornado striking a junkyard.
*Example: the weight of the nucleus of a helium atom compared with that of the two protons and two neutrons fused to make it.
Yes.... Just right! Tears sprang to his eyes anew as he considered again that God is just and everything will be all right, just right, if we put our trust in him and do his will. Glory! Glory! Just look at the sky, those orbs seemingly without number, glitteringly, constantly repeating the message of Psalm 19: "The heavens declare the glory of God."
"And so does Earth," Eduardo murmured half aloud. The pseudo-synesthetic transcription floating in the air merely validated his irresistible urge to praise God in song. What better for this than St. Francis of Assisi's Canticle of the Creatures. Tentatively at first, his voice quavering with emotion, and then with a volume matching every increment of fervor, he gave voice to the beautiful 13th century words. The parking lot was empty of people at the moment, but it would be just fine if anyone listened passing by, stopped and listened, joined in with him, or hurried quickly away from what the truly unliberal might call a breech of civil liberties.
All creatures of our God and King,
Lift up your voice and with us sing!
Alleluia! Alleluia!
O burning sun with golden beam
And silver moon with softer gleam:
Oh, praise Him! Oh, praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
O rushing wind and breezes soft,
O clouds that ride the winds aloft:
Oh, praise Him! Alleluia!
O rising morn in praise rejoice,
O lights of evening find a voice.
Oh, praise Him! Oh, praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
O flowing waters pure and clear
Make music for your Lord to hear
Oh, praise Him! Alleluia!
O fire so masterful so bright,
Providing us with warmth and light,
Oh, praise Him! Oh, praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Dear mother earth, who day by day
Unfolds rich blessings on our way,
Oh, praise Him! Alleluia!
The fruits and flow'rs that verdant grow,
Let them His praise abundant show.
Oh, praise Him! Oh, praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
O ev'ryone of tender heart,
Forgiving others, take your part,
Oh, praise Him! Alleluia!
All you who pain and sorrow bear,
Praise God and lay on Him your care
Oh, praise Him! Oh, praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
And you, most kind and gentle death,
Waiting to hush our final breath,
Oh, praise Him! Alleluia!
You lead to heav'n the child of God,
Where Christ our Lord the way has trod.
Oh....
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"Ohhhhhhh!" Pérez came to as gentle hands stroked his forehead and patted his cheeks in an effort to revive him. Without opening his eyes, he knew it was Anneliese. The touch of her hands, her fragrance—as soft, synesthetically, as the delicate touch, color, and scent of Edelweiss.
"Eduart! Eduart! What happened? Why are you sprawled out on the ground? Speak to me, speak to me! Have you had a stroke? A heart attack? Meine Liebe, meine Liebe, sag mir, sag mir was dir geschehen ist!"
Eduardo was tempted to play this out a little longer, as the touch of heaven in the canticle lingered now in the caress of Anneliese's tender hand on his brow.
"I.... I don't know. I was all alone here in the parking lot, no one else in sight. There was a slight rustling sound behind me, I thought, and then I was out.... until just now. Do I have a lump on my head somewhere?"
"No blood, but a lump, a contusion, yes. Do you think you can get up if I help you? There's a first-aid kit in the motor home and you could lie down on the bed while I take a better look at this."
"Sure. Once I'm on my feet I should be able to make it."
A little wobbly at first but then O.K., it was so pleasurable having Anneliese tenderly support him that he wobbled waveringly on.
"Give me your door opener, can you? I left my handbag with Linda. Wait a minute! This door is open! How can that be? Didn't you lock the motor home doors?"
"I'm sure I did. I always do. But in today's world of security measures and counter measures, one measure is always ahead of the other. It wouldn't be impossible for someone to break the code."
"Well, get in. I'll give you a boost."
"That's all right. I can make it now.... Hey, what's this? A note on the driver's seat. What the...!
"Javert! So he was Javert," exclaimed Eduardo.
"Who, mon amour? Javert?"
"So, you haven't been doing any proofreading lately. That's the name I gave the putative implacable pursuer not yet accounted for.... Snow! It turned out to be Snow.... The Hispanic who betrayed himself by calling me what to an Anglo ear—a highly trained phonetician's ear—would come out sounding something like Beterson, with an unaspirated Spanish [p]. He couldn't have been older than 17 or 18 when he got into an argument with me after a panel discussion at the Instituto. Called me a capitalist pig, un cochino capitalista. Said I was taking bread out of the mouths of the poor.
"When I sincerely tried to personally offer assistance, he accused me of trying to bribe him away from his invincible Marxist principles. I've never for a moment borne him any ill will. I'd have even turned the other cheek if he hadn't knocked me out cold. Whew! Instead of shooting me he merely bludgeoned me with whatever firearm he was packing. Oh, my. He apparently didn't put a hole in my head only because of the impression Alice made on him. Before the pageant got under way I felt his eyes on me and spotted him in the audience but couldn't place him.
"That was all so long ago, but who could forget it? I've come across lots of fanatic Communists in my day, but none tan empedernido como él—as diehard and obdurate as he. Not that I knew it until now. Who would have thought that a slow burn for vengeance over so many years would turn so white hot now? Quite possibly Pinochet's release by the British government and his return to Chile is what finally triggered this. Of course any supposed slight to Pablo Neruda, the darling of the Socialists and Communists, could permanently enrage a Red Chileno."
"Well, Eduart, I suppose that's the last we'll see of him and anyone like him out of the past. Thank God, from whom all blessings flow!"
"Amen!" and "Amen!" the two breathed out simultaneously, with sighs of relief.
"End of story," punctuated Eduardo.
"Warte mal, Liebchen! Just a minute! You still don't want to know the results of the competition?"
"Well, all of the contestants were outstanding, but it's enough for me to know in my heart that Alice performed best of all in all categories. Whatever the judges may have decided is of no particular interest to me."
"O.K., Eduart, that's just fine, because I intend to write a sequel and the result will be disclosed one way or another in my novel. It will be written in my native tongue, of course, not in a hodgepodge of languages like yours. I'll let you translate it to English, though."
"German girl talk to English girl talk?.... Not my forte in any language.... except with respect to one of the most obscure, unusual forms of exclusively girl talk ever talked by womankind. But it's a deal, if you'll help me with the girl talk part!"
Eduardo would like to close with a cloze test:
In defense of both Halls, it must be said that this professor must have just grabbed his tests at random out of an old filing cabinet. They seldom had much to do with the lectures, the textbook or the assigned outside reading list.
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