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before anyone noticed she was gone. She felt like a teenager sometimes, but
she kept a diary.
The climb up the hill was not much easier the second time, but she had at
least discovered some of the hazards among the boulders, and this time she
located a natural seat, shaped for comfort. She took a few photos with her
trusty old 35mm, then opened the journal.
Over the years she and Glen had developed a series of code phrases, words
that could be used naturally in the journal or a postcard to "Uncle Abner", or
even in a conversation, but which had specific meanings to indicate, for
example, that things were going either so slowly or so smoothly that she
thought Glen might as well go do something else for a while, or that she
needed someone to hang around the prearranged meeting place until she could
get free, or that she was feeling nervous and wanted to get out soon.
The word used to show this first state of affairs was, appropriately,
"placid", and she used it now, twice, in describing the compound with a third
of its population missing and then on the following page in speaking about the
goats in the field. She did not know if Glen would appreciate the nuances of
the mural (though he sometimes seemed to have a sense of humor), so she spent
some time on that, reflecting on its hidden meanings without giving too much
away herself. She closed the entry immediately after the second "placid", for
emphasis, read what she had written (checking to be sure that she had not by
accident made use of other, contradicting code words), and climbed back down
the hill to see if she could lend a hand in the kitchen.
After dinner, when the dishes were clean and the small children in bed, Ana
was invited to join the community in its group meditation. She accepted with
the appropriate eagerness, hung up her damp dishtowel to dry, and waited while
her new friends Laurel and Amelia checked on the breakfast provisions and shut
down the lights. They took coats from an entire room dedicated to rolling
metal clothes racks hung with hundreds of bent metal hangers, and bundled up
fully before stepping out into the frigid night air. The three women walked
quickly from the dining hall to the hub building, their breath steaming clouds
around their heads, and joined several others just entering the foyer.
This time, however, instead of going left into the school offices or right
into the circular corridor that connected all the classrooms, Ana followed the
others straight ahead, through a set of double doors that looked so like the
walls around them as to be invisible, given away only by the slight
discoloration of the wood where a hundred hands every day pushed them open.
Inside the doors was another, smaller foyer, this one with a solid wall on the
inward side and swinging doors to the right and left, forming a baffle to keep
those outside from seeing in. Amelia went through the right-hand door, Laurel
through the left. After a moment's hesitation, and aware that Laurel was
standing and waiting for her, Ana followed Amelia.
Her first thought on setting foot into the circular meditation hall was how
amazing it was that such a room could be concealed in plain sight, surrounded
as it was by one of the busiest, most public places on the entire compound,
the school.
There were two stories to this building, the school below and the residences
of Steven Change and his oldest companions above, but the domed roof made this
central part taller yet. The top of the circular skylight was nearly forty
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feet above the floor. The actual diameter was not great, but full use had been
made of the volume by the simple, dramatic device of a pair of circular
ramplike steps winding up the walls, forming an external double helix of
platforms, each roughly four feet square, many of which were occupied already
by seated figures, settling into poses of meditation. Some of the platforms
were empty, at irregular intervals, but mostly in the middle section, which
made Ana wonder if perhaps the seats weren't specifically assigned, and their
owners absent.
That was later, though. At first all she noticed was the sense of constricted
space below, underscored by the near-black carpeting on the floor and the
sheer, high walls rising on all sides that gave way to warm reds and gathered
light above until at the very top, where outside spotlights shone down through
the glass, there was an explosion of warmth and movement and golden light.
Just under the glass was suspended a shimmering golden cloud, a sparkling,
breathing entity made up of dozens of fine gold rods held horizontal to the
floor and turning freely in the rising air. Ana had seen something like it
once in a San Francisco cathedral. That sculpture, though, had served to evoke
the cool splendor and ethereal magnificence of the Holy Spirit. This one made
a person yearn to be closer, to rise up from the dark commonality and strive
for light and entrance to the dazzling gold cloud.
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