Chapter 2

Dante and Karla examined Oscar with the eyes of artists. They observed more than was there to be physically seen. Noticing the disturbed expression on Karla’s face, Dante said, “You see it, too.”

“Yes,” Karla answered. A shiver went through her body. She had seen that same look in John Carter’s eyes just before he had consecrated the Carter Glade. It had been there when she had painted the last portrait of him.

“I’ve seen that look before,” Dante said; his voice dropping in volume to a near whisper on the last word. There had been times when Happy Harry had that same look.

Head swiveling from one to the other, Oscar watched the two artists discuss him as if he were not present. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What is it that you see?”

“We see the look of a man who knows his fate,” Karla answered feeling sick to her stomach.

Feeling sad by what he saw, Dante turned away and said, “You do not need to sit for me. I’ve seen all that I need to create a statue of you.”

“Same here,” Karla said while closing up her sketch book. Physically, Oscar had not changed even though his voice had become much deeper. It was his aura that had changed and, despite the fact that the aura wasn’t visible, she would be able to capture that aspect of him in her portrait of him. The face wasn’t a monochrome of the old crayon flesh color, but a mixture of many colors. The application of those colors could be manipulated to convey far more information that possible within a simple photograph. It would be subtle, but it would be there in her work giving it the indefinable something that would make it a great painting.

Pleased that he wouldn’t have to sit for them, Oscar watched the pair of artists pack up their supplies. Within five minutes, both had left the room after giving him curt farewells. The brusque, almost angry, nature of their exit bothered Oscar. He ran out of the room and caught up to Karla. Talking to her back, he asked, “Did I upset you?”

Karla slowly turned to face Oscar. With incredible sadness in her voice, she answered, “Yes and no. John Carter was my hero. The last time I saw him, he had the same look in his eyes that you have. I don’t know how to describe it. There’s a mixture of a hundred different feelings in it. There is strength, weakness, pride, humility, bravery, fear, happiness, sadness, and ... well ... there are more contradictory emotions than I can even name. Underneath all those contradictions, two things shined forth more than anything else: wisdom and determination.

“People talk about destiny or fate, but I don’t think most people really and truly understand that concept. They may see the glory, but never the cost. I could see in John’s eyes that he knew exactly what was going to happen to him. He knew the cost. I see that in your eyes,” Karla said. By the time she had finished answering his question, tears were running down her face.

“I’m sorry that I upset you,” Oscar said looking down at his feet.

“You didn’t upset me. It is just that I saw John Carter there for a minute. I miss him,” Karla said. She flashed on the memories of a little girl in a burn ward meeting a man who was magic. He saw her and not the burns that had scarred her.

“Where?”

“I saw him in you. I don’t see how anyone can face the future knowing what it holds for them. You manage it. Somehow, you are still able to smile and keep your sense of humor. I can see why everyone has compared you to John Carter,” Karla said. She bit her lower lip and looked at Oscar trying to avoid his eyes. She added, “I loved John Carter. He was special.”

“I’m not John Carter,” Oscar said.

“I know. You are Oscar Meyers. You are special, too,” Karla replied brushing a hand against his cheek in a sign of affection. She turned and walked away before she said more than would be proper.

Oscar watched her leave and then walked down the hall in a slow thoughtful pace. His thoughts were racing a thousand miles per hour while he considered what she had said to him. He wondered if his feelings were that obvious to everyone. One thing was certain; it was impossible for him to hide his feelings from his girlfriends.

Leaning against the wall of the hallway, Oliver watched Oscar as he wandered lost in thought. When Oscar was about to pass by, he called out to him, “Oscar.”

“Oh, it’s you,” Oscar said coming out of his thoughts.

“You seem rather reflective today. What’s the matter?” Oliver asked.

“The artists took one look at me and then ran off,” Oscar said. He gave a weak grin and added, “You would have thought I was ugly or something.”

Oliver made the obligatory short laugh, but turned to the real matter at hand and asked, “So what is bothering you?”

“They said I’ve changed and the changes make them uncomfortable,” Oscar answered.

“Oh, is that all. Well, you have been a little more serious since returning from the glade,” Oliver said in a serious tone of voice. For the past year, Oscar had approached life in a carefree manner. Since coming out of the glade, he was more measured in his conversations. It was as if he was afraid of allowing others to get too close to him emotionally. There was a sense of distance between him and everyone else. In a way, it reminded him of talking with William Redman Carter.

“I guess,” Oscar said. It was hard to ignore what the Gods and Goddesses had said to him in the glade. If that wasn’t enough, it was going to take him a while to get used to having William’s gift full-time.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. I do have one complaint though,” Oscar said.

“What?”

A small smile came over Oscar’s face as he answered, “I’m still a quarter inch short of five feet. You’d think that they’d have given me that extra quarter inch.”

Oliver laughed at the often voiced complaint and said, “They gave you a voice that makes you sound ten feet tall.”

Shaking his head at the mention of his voice, Oscar forced a laugh. He was tired of hearing about his voice. Every female he encountered commented on it. There was something that Oliver was attempting to hide from him. Knowing the answer, he also knew that he was going to have to go through the conversation. He asked, “What were you doing waiting here?”

“I was waiting for you,” Oliver answered with a sigh. The news he had to deliver was not good.

“I know. Mullah Farzin bin Saud and Fareed Khomeni have been killed,” Oscar said deciding that it didn’t matter how the conversation was approached. As he said the words a great sense of sadness settled over him.

“Yes,” Oliver said in confirmation.

“How?”

“They were specifically targeted by a roadside bomb,” Oliver answered. Hundreds of cars had passed the point where the explosion had taken place, but the bomb had detonated only when the car containing the two men had driven past.

“They were in Germany,” Oscar said wondering how he knew that little fact.

“Yes,” Oliver said surprised by Oscar’s comment. There were times when Oscar’s new ability to see the future took him by surprise. He wondered how much of the young Druid’s seriousness was a result of that new ability. For the second time in the course of this conversation he thought about William Redman Carter.

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Oscar said shaking his head.

“I know that the past two years have been rather difficult. You and Fareed Khomeni didn’t exactly get along that well,” Oliver said.

“We got along well enough. I rather liked the guy although he found my questions irritating. I understood that my approach to learning material didn’t match his expectations,” Oscar said.

“Does this change things?” Oliver asked.

“I don’t know. It is up to Allah,” Oscar said not realizing how true his words were.

“Ah,” Oliver said feeling as if his question had been deflected. Curious, he asked, “So how are you going to bring peace to the Middle East?”

“I am to become a prophet,” Oscar said.

“That’s all they need in that part of the world, another religious nut,” Oliver commented and earning a dirty look from Oscar. He said, “I assume that you are going to go around trying to convert people to a message of peace and love.”

“No,” Oscar said. He sighed and said, “This news about Mullah Farzin bin Saud and Fareed Khomeni is very bad. It is never good when a servant of a God or Goddess is killed. There will be consequences.”

The week long break at the end of the summer quarter had finally arrived. On the third day of the break, Oscar married Debbie and Georgia in a wedding ceremony held at the campsite beside the river behind the Biggers’ house. It was officiated according to Druid tradition. Georgia wore a white robe. Debbie wore a blue robe with five stripes on the sleeves. After much debate about the color of robe Oscar was to wear, it was decided that he would be accorded a gray robe symbolic of his service.

The official guest list was small in comparison to William’s wedding, but attendance was more than large enough for Oscar and his wives. The majority of people were students and, while pleased to celebrate Oscar’s marriage, most were just happy to have a distraction from their studies. His mother and father were there along with Debbie’s and Georgia’s families.

Not everyone who had been invited had been able to attend. The ones who failed to attend were obvious by their absence. William Redman Carter had chosen not to travel, although Ed Biggers had come. Mullah Farzin bin Saud and Fareed Khomeni had been assassinated only a week after the invitation had reached them. The Reverend Leroy Jones was in Italy with his bodyguard, George. Rabbi Teitelbaum was in Israel where another minor war was being fought.

The absences wouldn’t have been noticed by most of the people who attended. Their attention was on the party after the ceremony. Picnic tables loaded with food had been set up in front of the Biggers’ house. Under the canopy of green trees, the people in the crowd were busy filling plates while listening to music played by the first Druidic Bard. The atmosphere was light and carefree as befitted a wedding.

While others were partying, Oscar, Georgia, and Debbie were in the house talking with the parents. Irving Meyers raised a glass of wine in the air and said, “Here’s to your marriage. May it be long and happy.”

The toast did not have the intended cheerful reaction. It was a painful reminder that Oscar was going to have to pay a high price in the execution of his service. Georgia and Debbie both sighed. Seeing their reaction, Oscar put an arm around each of them. The parents did not understand the reason for the muted reaction and looked at the trio with concern.