"Ring, ring, ring, ring!"

The alarm from his clock aroused him, bringing him back from his sojourn, but not from the depths of despair. Glancing briefly at his clock and passing his hand over his face, Forester decided to rise from his tomb. He dropped his feet over the edge of the bed, and felt about with them for his houseshoes. Upon finding them, he finally stood for the first time in hours.  He stumbled his way to the dwelling’s only bathroom, felt the wall for the switch, and held on to the sink with both hands, with his head bent towards the concave structure, continuing to contemplate a way out of his mental anguish.

 He finally stared into the mirror. Staring back was a wan and haggard face. Unable to bare the sight before him, Forester slammed the palms of his hands into his forehead.  Ashamed even to look in the mirror and confront himself. A stranger to his soul, the worst type of stranger. He was dying inside. And the pain was intensifying.

    As he continued to roam aimlessly to his destination, he was soon struck by a distant voice, reiterating something his tormentor once said. The wind grew stronger and the voice grew nearer. Then he heard the voice clearly:

    "All we have to do is open our eyes and the heaven we seek will be clearly seen before us." Upon hearing this, Forester stopped, with head lowered and hands in pockets, and thought.    

    "Hmm, Maybe there is something revealing in this statement? Maybe, just maybe we seek wisdom in the wrong places?," said Forester to himself.    

    He finally reached the intersection of Hepburne and O’Hara. Turning left, Forester was getting closer. It was quite evident where the deserters spent their nights.  Unlike Hepburne, O’Hara was littered with homes on each side and illuminated windows could be seen in almost every household.  Shadows from within could be seen passing to and fro.  Nearly every yard was decorated with trees of various kinds, gardens with flowers of several different hues, white gates in the forefront, and statuettes with a myriad of shapes and colors.    

    Forester came to a two-story house with its gate ajar, his intended destination.  He walked to the door after closing the gate. Inside the house there was total darkness. He hesitated for fearing to disturb the resident from his sleep, but he had come this far and it made little sense to turn around now. After little deliberation, he knocked on the door. He knocked again, but louder. Rumbling could eventually be heard from the top room. Then, a dim light illuminated the above window.  The window rose slightly. The curtains that decorated the sides of the window from within could be seen rustling backward from the wind’s force.

    In a half sleeping tone, a voice bellowed, "I hope for whoever’s sake that this is an emergency." There was a brief pause, then the voice returned, "Who is it?"

    "Forester!"

    "Forester?," iterated the voice. "Give me a second."

        After a few minutes of mass confusion, the sound of someone stumbling over objects, drawers opening and shutting, the bumping against walls, a tall, opposing frame appeared in the now opened door.

    "Well, image seeing you here, old friend. Why am I so honored?" the figure said.

    "Have you ever had a heavy heart and just needed someone to talk to in order to lighten the load?," Forester responded dejectedly, as he remembered why he came. The images and luster of East Eden seemed to drift away.

    "Yes, we have all been there. Come in." The figure opened the door wide and stepped to the side. As Forester entered, he felt the warmth of a hand on his back.  Except for the ray of light that poured down from the upper half of the house, the bottom half would have been completely dark.  

    "Let’s go upstairs," suggested the figure, and proceeded to lead the way with a slight limp.  They walked through the darkness, up the spiral staircase, into the light of the upper room. We went into a room that operated as his study. He instructed me look around, have a sit, do whatever pleased. He then left room and promised to be back shortly. In this room, Forester and other fellow academic cohorts had spent many days and nights mulling over the problems of the world. Discussions ranged from politics, philosophy, religion, and various social issues.   

    The furniture was solid and in good shape. In two of the four corners stood a nightstand with shaded lamps. In the third was a tall wooden stand for hats and coats. The fourth was bare. The centerpiece of the room was the oak desk with its littered papers and one shaded lamp on the left side.  The bookshelves at the opposite ends of the room were filled to capacity.  One could see from the backs of the books that they were about the subjects that had been discussed at length by Forester’s cohorts. Books that were antithetical to each other coexisting in the same space (holy books representing various religions and Twain’s Letters From The Earth, Nietsche and Descartes, Karl Marx and John Calvin,….) especially danced before his eyes.  He browsed through a couple of books. He came across one entitled Apocrypha Old and New Testament.    

    "Endless miracles, endless lies," he thought with a wry smile on his countenance. He opened the book and read a passage from the first page that appeared before his eyes, "His disciples said to him, ‘When will the kingdom come?’ ‘It will not come by watching for it. It will not be said, 'Look, here!’ or 'Look, there!’ Rather, the father’s kingdom is spread out upon the earth, and people don’t see it. The word according to the Gospel of Thomas." He had read these passages on several occasions and this was the first time that he considered that there was more to this meaning. Then he thought, holding the book with one hand and bringing his index finger to his mouth, "I heard the words, but I didn’t understand the meaning?" Something his tormentor had said long ago had him thinking. "Maybe her only recourse was to…." A voice from downstairs called out, breaking his train of thought.    

    "Is there anything you desire from the kitchen?!"

    "No, thanks!"

    With his train of thought disrupted, reshelved the book of miracles and resumed browsing through the collection of books. Stopping now and then to read a few passages from various books. After several minutes of looking through a myriad of books that only served to add to his confusion, Forester took a seat in front of the centerpiece.

    He soon started thinking about the figure that would soon occupy the chair behind the desk. The dignified professor who broach subjects and issues that most of his colleagues were to afraid to mention. The professor when ostracized by peers always stood steadfast. He was a simple man who lived simply by his wisdom and wits. A man who never uttered disparaging words about anyone. A man who sought knowledge to enrich others as oppose to seeking knowledge for his own personal ends. To Forester, the man always displayed an unreal persona. Whether in East Eden or West Erebus, the man’s passion and demeanor never wavered.

    Forester always wondered want was the true nature of his being. He appeared apart from all around him. A wise man among the sleeping masses who traveled down an awakened path.

    The man with the heavily graying hair and a countenance that revealed a man of about fifty returned with a clear pitcher of water and two empty glasses on a tray. He set the tray on the desk and proceeded behind his desk to his chair. Looking squaring at the figure before him, he saw a man who was deeply troubled, despite his efforts to hide his despair. The man from behind the desk broke the silence.

    "Why the look of anguish, loneliness? I have never you in this state," the figure said in a concern manner.

    Forester dropped his head and said in a lowered voice, "Professor, I just don’t know anymore, I just don’t know anymore."

    "What there is to know you already know."

    Forester looked up in a perplex manner.

    The professor continued, "You said you just don’t know, I believe," he paused, caught the look on Forester’s face, then resumed, "but, I say that you do know but hide the truth from yourself.  Unfortunately, this is the pattern of most people. They either ignore the truth or deny it all together because the truth has always been more difficult to accept. Man has found it easier to go through life in a daydream. Man has found it easier to estrange himself from his fellow man. In this state, he does not have to confront the obvious. Life has become nothing more than a lie."

    Forester could now see a face full of passion.    

    "Man lies about everything. Just as you are lying about not knowing what ails you."

    The words were forcing Forester to search deep within himself – a search he had always sought to avoid. Maybe the truth was deep within and just never had the will to look in the most obvious place.

    Forester knew the professor was not one to hold back his true feelings, which made his opinions all the more poignant.

    "You speak as if there is no hope for mankind," Forester interrupted.

    "It would take a miracle for man to change is coarse."

    "Well, maybe if man paid more attention to his respective religious text, he would be more willing to change his ways," said Forester in a sarcastic manner.

    "You are still talking about looking in the wrong place for the truth. You see all these books?" he waved his arm in a circular motion and continued, "They can only provide man with wisdom, but they can never provide man with ultimate truth. A man, who bases his belief system on what comes from a book instead from within, cannot be trusted. The truth has to come from deep within one’s self. But, sadly, the few people who have had this insight have been persecuted or ostracized by their countrymen. People frown on anything that symbolizes difference. They won’t take time to understand the uniqueness that differences can bring.  Instead, they prefer to hate what they don't understand. And do you know why?" He stopped to look at Forester in an inquisitive manner and then continued, "For you see, embracing differences requires thought. Thoughts require effort. To think is to work your mind excessively. Thoughts can be revolutionary. Thoughts can be earth shattering. Because of this, thoughts are feared. In some cases, thoughts are feared more than death itself.  Yes, I tell you, differences in others represent a freedom that frightens most because the people who are different are the ones who have the courage to think for themselves.  Strangely, darkness represents security.  It is easier to keep one’s mind shackled from the light than to open it and be consumed."    

    "So, difference is freedom?"

    "Yes, separation from the throng is freedom," said the professor dejectedly. There was a long pause in which Forester thought he should say something to continue the discourse, but John continued before Forester could get a word out.

    "Differences," he whispered, then said in a louder tone, "I'm reminded of a past event in a distant town," his gaze had a distant look in them as he began telling a story of long ago. 

"There was this young woman of about twenty-six.  She resided in Tartarus, a provisional town of about six thousand.  Tartarus was a pious town that held extreme fundamental views on nearly very subject, especially matters regarding male/female relationship.  Anything that went against the generally accepted religious tenets was deemed abnormal.  She was expected to hold the same views as her overly pious father, who was the head of the family, and acquiesce to his demands.  There was little verbal complaint about her servitude because her father demanded similar compliance from her mother. For most of her life she accepted this form of man/woman relationship, but she did not accept it as being normal. For Lilith was not like most of the people who inhabited her region. Her thoughts were far from provincial. She possessed inside her mind the seed that has been the catalyst of monumental changes. The seed that allowed the ancient world to change into the modern world. The seed that allowed man to reach the zenith of his existence. That seed was the word – why.  And she made sure that she nurtured that seed. She watered it with as much knowledge as possible, and protected it from all forms of ignorance.  Therefore, she took it upon herself to know as much as possible. When she was a child, she delighted in her parents reading to her. She delighted in going to school. When she was forced to end her formal education, for women at this time were expected to go eight levels in their schooling and then concentrate on traditional roles for women, she still found ways to seek off to the town’s library to read the few books that the facility had to offer. She refused to accept her relegation.  She read of distant places. She read of ancient times. She read of famous individuals littered through out history, and marveled at how grand it would be to be among them someday.  She also dreamed of how one day she would be a shaper of major events like the individuals she read about.  The days were plenty when her mother would find her in the hayloft reading when she was required in the kitchen or elsewhere in the house or when her father would demand she come out of her room and help her mother with some chore that her mother was falling behind on.

     ‘You won’t catch a man with those books,’ her father would bellow.

    ‘How you know I am aiming to be married,’ she would sometimes retort.

    ‘You here that Elizabeth? She is getting too big for her own good.’

    ‘I blame those books,’ her mother would add now and again. 

‘I tell you that you need to do more reading of the Holy Book and less of that other nonsense that you fill your head with,’ her father would say even more persistent. ‘Those books are filled with ungodly things and it is making you ungodly.’ 

    At this comment she would shutter at the thought that her father or mother had found the literature that she sent off for – materials that included subjects of a sexual nature and other liberalizing materials. She had even begun writing personal things in her diary that were meant for her eyes-only. But by the fact that her father was only moderately upset was evidence that her father had not located her personal cornucopia of books. The library books had angered him moderately; his anger would have known no bounds if he had found her most private contraband. She constantly had to find new cordons to protect her prize possessions.

    Once she was assured that her father was only referring to the town’s library books, she would defend her quest for knowledge.

    ‘Father, times are changing. Whether you want to accept it or not. Women are no longer settling for relegated positions. Women have same desires as men and the modern woman will not settle like the women of the past.’

    Elizabeth would put her head down, fully understanding that she was the woman of the past. Her father’s eyes would grow furious with anger at the word, desires.

    ‘And what desires would you mean?’ inquired her father.

    Embarrassed by her father’s assertions, she would blush and say, ‘Oh, father, I'm just saying your ways cannot be mine.  Times are changing and I have decided to be among the change. That is all I am saying. I have to change,’ and go about her duty of helping her mother.  

    When she was not at the library or helping her mother, she would take long walks to the river and dream of a better life. She would also think about her life experiences. While she was unknown to man, she had become to know herself to the fullest extent. At this time in her young life she was far more advance than most of the women twice her age. While most women were simply tools to satisfy their respective husbands' desires and needs, she had reach passions that far exceeded most women. For the most part, she was content to learn more about herself, but she was soon reaching womanhood and her father was pressing her to get married.  This pressure would only increase after church one Sunday. A visiting young vicar from a neighboring town caught sight of Lilith from the pew that he occupied. He was seemingly taken by her natural beauty. On several occasions, he was seen making glances in her direction. After the service, he went over to the family of three and introduced himself, steadying his eyes on the blossoming flower. Lilith seemed to take little interest in the young man, but her father was quite the opposite. The young vicar and her father talked for several minutes, while Lilith appeared totally aloof.  Not one to allow an golden opportunity to pass him by, he invited the vicar to lunch.   

    Her father became ever so persistent that she marry this young vicar who had won his heart more than his daughter’s.  In the beginning she refused to relent, but at her mother’s entreaties, she considered marriage to a man of the cloth. She considered growing in unison with someone who would help her achieve her goals and vice versa. Upon meeting the vicar, she thought him to be attractive and somewhat intelligent. After months of her mother’s entreaties and convinced that marriage would not be an impediment to her worldly goals, she eventually married her father’s choice, a man she had known for little under a year. But she did not marry the vicar simply to please her father. After seven months of walks in the parks, dinner dates, and even trips to the church, she began to genuinely enjoy his company. She half-heartedly shared some of her goals with Cerberus who seemed to be interested in her dreams of being somebody important.    

    But what may seem to be love can oft times be deception, for once the ring was upon Lilith’s finger, the polite Cerberus slowly began to change – for the worst that is. At first, it appeared that vicar Cerberus would take all her needs in consideration, emotional and physical, but he became selfish and extremely jealous. He expected her to remain confined to the house and perform women’s work, as defined by him.  Sundays were even more heart wrenching because she was expected, being the vicar’s wife, to engage in nonsecular activities the entire day.  She lamented over predicament.  She felt like a flower denied the rays of the sun. She was slowly withering inside.  It wasn’t long before she began to rebel. Rebelling against his pious thoughts. Rebelling against his way of life. Rebelling against his touch, opting for her own, for she longer found him physically attractive. He, who was denying her soul its freedom, was soon seen as a tormentor to her very being.  It (the soul) could no longer breath. She felt ignorance strangling her seed. She felt her dreams spiraling to the earth, no longer soaring high among the heavens. Their arguments increased. To avoid their confrontations, she would take long walks through the countryside. Her walks always ended at the river where she would lie down and dream of drifting to far away lands.  She also dreamed of meeting a man who would be her equal, not her lord and master. She could not understand why someone needed to reign over another human being. Had not god intended all his creatures to live equally and in peace in his garden? Can there truly be love between humans when one group controls another? More importantly, can there be love between man and woman when one is more concern with maintaining control? Did god mean for this to be? And if so, is god flawed? Whatever the answers may be, she knew it was time for change.  In their second year of marriage, she decided to get a job outside the home, which infuriated her husband, but she simply could not accept her confinement any longer. Her search would be brief. There was an opening at the town’s library, and because the overseer of the library had a strong dislike towards the vicar for some long ago incident, he hired his most faithful customer. The town was abuzz with astonishment.  Everybody was whispering about the latest scandal. When Lilith appeared in sight, the whispering stopped. She could feel their eyes cut through her, but she continued to hold her head high, proud of the decision she made for herself. Unlike the garrulous women who talked behind her back, her seed was growing and nearing full bloom. She enjoyed her work. When the workday ended at 8:00 p.m., she could hardly wait for 10:00 a.m. to come. The time would slowly go by while she was away from her sanctuary and go by quickly once there. The library was her place of solace.

    By the third year, Lilith and her husband no longer slept in the same bed. They had grown completely apart. Eventually, she did the unthinkable by asking her husband for a divorce.  She gathered her belongings into her two suitcases and headed for the train station, anything that was purchased by her husband was left behind. Cerberus purposely stayed away in order not to be present for her departure. Since the town she originated from lay only ten miles away, she decided to take a carriage rented out by the train station. Once a carriage was made available, there would be three other passengers adjoining her. Two ladies whom she had seen in passing while residing in her old town and a gentleman she had never seen, who lifted his hat to each lady as they entered the carriage. Once positioned, the two ladies, sitting opposite of each other, chatted amongst each other as if they were old friends. The fairly young gentleman sat quietly with his head slightly titled. The hat that he wore shaded his face and the frock coat did little to hide the fact that he was physically fit. The thin cushion on the seats did little to soften the ride, each person could be seen wincing in pain from each bump in the road. The passengers, upon reaching their destinations, collected their items and went their separated ways. Only minutes from home, she walked the route she knew well and moved back into her parents’ home, who where greatly dismayed at the events that had transpired in their daughter’s life. As soon as she appeared in the doorway, her mother ran to her only child, and, after holding her daughter tightly in her arms in what seemed like an eternity to Lilith, went to a chair in the corner to continue crying. Her only words were:

    "My dear child, my dear child," she reiterated over and over again.

    Her father simply walked over to her, collected her luggage, and took her belongings to her old room. Her father bore the shame of his rebellious daughter’s nature. Just as his daughter was the victim of vituperative comments and stares, her father had fallen prey as well. As time went on, he spent less time among the general public. He seldom engaged in drinking at the pub, as in olden times, or any other activity men of his age would normally be interested in. His interaction with his daughter was limited to a few words and short glances, despite Elizabeth’s efforts to produce a better relationship between them.  Lilith would have done just about anything to see her father smile and return to his old ways, but she had to remain true to herself. She could never bend to his will or any man’s.

    Soon, Lilith was able to secure a position at the town’s library, with mild complaints from her father. Except for the addition of work, which occupied much of her time, life had resumed as before with walks to the river and dreams of distant places. The rustic scenery that saw her in childhood was just as beautiful as ever. She walked with bated breath among the trees and flowers littered everywhere and among the myriad of insects and birds that pervaded the landscape. She felt completely fulfilled in her isolated sanctuary that her heart could ask for nothing more.

    She also felt peace within the library walls. Knowledge was beforehand her at every turn. Her old friends lay in wait for her touch, Browning, Poe, Wordsworth, Byron, Wilcox, to name few.  When she wasn’t helping someone, she was enriching her mind to its fullest.    

    With the coming of the raining season, trips to the river lessened. More time was spent at the library, reading and working incessantly. Day in and day out, basically the same people entered the library’s only ingress. There was only a certain segment of society that was interested in learning beyond their required years, so that the days afforded little variance. One day in particular began as all other days during the raining season. The rains cascaded heavily from the sky. Lightening could be seen intermittently dancing across the darkened firmament as the thunder roared incessantly. Lilith busied herself by shelving books and answering the queries of the patrons.

    In a flash, Lilith was denied the ability to see the hand that was placing the books onto the shelf. Sounds of mild hysteria could be heard from all directions. Lilith went to the circulation desk, where everyone appeared to be congregating. A voice could be heard over the other voices, saying, "Calm down, don’t panic!"

    Lilith went to one of the reading tables and waited. After some time, the entrance door opened, emitting light into the darkness briefly. An eminence figure was seen entering the library and soon engulfed by the darkness as well. The rain could still be heard coming down.  After what seemed like an eternity, the light soon replaced the darkness. Lilith flickered her eyes several times to adjust to the return of the lights. The aggregated throng near the circulation desk dispersed immediately, some leaving and others resuming their search. As Lilith headed back to her station, she noticed a tall figure with a black frock coat and black hat moving toward the circulation desk. He tipped his hat in the same manner as the man who had shared the carriage ride with her. She resumed her work of shelving as things return to normalcy.  Upon completing the historical section, she headed for the poetry, with several books in hand. As she turned the corner, she bumped into the figure with the black frock coat as he made the turn from the section she was entering.  She dropped the books in her possession as well as he. He immediately stooped to pick up the books, apologizing for his carelessness. As he collected the books into one stack, he noticed one and commented:

    "She walks in beauty and enchants all that gaze upon her," he said smilingly, as he placed Byron on top, and stared intently upon her.

    "That’s not the next line," she blushed.

    "I never liked confinement. I prefer to be as creative as the creator and soar as high," the smile never left his face.

    "Don’t you owe it to the author to be as true to his or her work as possible?" inquired Lilith.

    "There are times, I suppose. But," he continued his admirable gaze in her direction, "this was not one them."

    He finally handed the stack of books back to the owner and collected his. She said thanks and he politely tipped his hat in his trademark way.    

    The stranger settled at an unoccupied table across from where Lilith busied herself with her work. Every now and then, she found herself glancing in the stranger’s direction. She fancied her wits to know what brought him to town. The stranger appeared to be oblivious of her as he copied down notes from the books that he had taken from the shelves. Lilith soon became more curious to know what the stranger busied himself with. As oppose to taking a direct route to the circulation desk, she decided to walk pass the stranger’s workstation to glance at what kept him occupied. Steadying her way toward the stranger, feigning mindlessness at his activities, she attempted to quickly look over his shoulders without him noticing. But as she neared the stranger, he immediately looked and said:

    "Would you like to take a gander to satisfy your curiosity?" said he in the same brazen tone as when he first spoke to her.

    "Whatever would lead you to think that I’m interested in your affairs?" she responded astonishingly.

    "Well, I noticed your glances in my direction while you worked," he added.    

    She could now see several books of Shakespeare on the table, from poetry to plays to analysis of the bard by other writers.

    "How would you know I was looking at you if you were busying yourself with your work?" she queried.

    "Because I was secretly looking at you," he smiled, while she looked downward to avoid his convivial stare.

    Several seconds elapsed before she finally built up enough courage to satisfy her curious mind:

    "By the way, what are you working on that have you so consumed?"

    "Besides being a teacher, I am constantly writing. Doing research. I have had the luck of being published in a few newspapers and magazines. This is my latest project," he said with pride.    

    Him mentioning that he had been published sparked more interest in what he was doing.

    "What is the subject of your latest project?" she asked eagerly.

    "The true concept of love," said the stranger, searching for an initial facial response. "I have been reading through various works for the past six months. I have read various religious texts, poetry from various writers, novels and novellas from various authors. At present, I’m reading through Shakespeare’s sonnets and plays."

    "What have you concluded?"

    "Man has lost the true meaning of love. For various reasons, the bestowment of words is more valuable than acts. Man has fallen prey to the false notion that if he proclaims his love through words to whomever, god or fellow man, this is sufficient. I personally blame religion’s dominance over the spiritual world as a factor for this erroneous thought. This is one of many arguments that I’m formulating."

    "But doesn’t, let us say, god demand that we profess our love for him through our praises and that faith is essential to attaining heavenly bliss?" she asked in a bewildered tone.

    "And I say that any god that requires his subject to bow and praise him endlessly is a false and vain god that needs to be discarded."    

    "But, by words, one can," began Lilith, but unable to finish her thought.

    "Words are beguiling. They lack weight. There is more truth in actions," continued the stranger.

    With every word that left his mouth, she became even more intrigue in the man before her.    

    "Let’s take a look at Lear," he grabbed a book across the table, pulled it towards him, and fingered through the pages until he located the section that he was looking for.

    "He is indicative of the very nature of man, foolish and vain. In this section, King Lear demands proof of his daughters’ love. Goneril and Regan offer their father hollow praises. They flatter the bewildered fool. Goneril tells her father ‘I love you more than word can wield the matter; Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty; Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; no less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; as much as child ever loved, or father found; a love that makes breath poor, and speech unable, beyond all manner of so much I love you.’ Not to be out done, Regan says ‘I am made of that self mettle as my sister, and prize me at her worth. In my true heart I hind she names my very deed of love; only she comes too short, that I profess myself an enemy to all other joys which the most precious square of sense possesses, and find I am alone felicitate in your dear highness’ love.’ But when Lear asks his daughter, Cordelia, what words she has to offer to prove her devotion to him, she responds, ‘nothing.’ She refuses to have her love bonded by weightless words. Her duty alone will be her proof. Her love his more honest and profound. Her love surpasses the love her sisters profess. But Lear rejects this highest form of love. Lear is assuaged by emptiness."

    "Yes, she would even lose her life proving her love and devotion to her father," said Lilith, still pondering the logic espoused by the stranger.

    Looking in amazement, the stranger said, "You have read King Lear?"

    "Yes, I love to read. It’s one of my few pleasures. But I have to admit that I never analyzed Lear in the same manner that you have just done."

    "And this concept of love is not only expressed by Shakespeare, it is also written in Christian lore. Let’s take the Holy Bible."

    Once again, he reached for a book stacked under several other books and continued:

    "Look here, even Jesus in Matthew says, ‘For the son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels; and then he shall reward every man according to his works.’ Salvation cannot be bought with words, but earned with works and being true to oneself. But the very people who profess their love for this Jesus refuse to follow his example. Man has truly lost his way. Man lacks the courage to be true to himself, so he engages in this false concept of love."

    For some time, they continued their conversation. He begged her indulgence on several topics. His respect for grew more and more as she displayed her depth of knowledge on various subjects. He could clearly see that she was no traditional woman. She expressed an independent mind as well as an independent spirit, he thought, which added to her overall attractiveness.

    It also became known during their initial conversation why the stranger had come to reside in the town. One of the instructors at the preparatory academy for boys retired and a distant cousin wrote to him, informing him of a vacancy. She also learned that the stranger’s name was John Baptista.

    That night, she laid in bed thinking about her conversation with the stranger. For the first time, she felt stimulated by another. His image consumed her thoughts. With every twist and turn, he was there, with his confident smile.  For the next two months, Baptista would appear at the library, working diligently on his research. He soon began scheduling his visits to coincide with her work schedule, and, upon his arrival, she devoted much of her time to him. With each encounter, their talks became even more intense – she consumed by his knowledge and he of hers.

    As the cold weather abated and the gray clouds receded from the skies, Lilith began her sojourns to the river. When Baptista asked her how she spent her free time away from the library, she talked about her blissful trips to the river. Intrigued with the scenery painted by Lilith, he implored her to allow him to venture with her on her next trip.

    The day that was set for their trip was that upcoming Saturday. She would meet him at his bower, which lay near the edge of town. The day was filled with people busying about, carriages carrying people to and fro, children playing in the streets, and women making their weekly trips to the marketplace. Upon reaching the bower, the busyness of town life soon drifted from her mind. The gentleman who frequented the library appeared before her in different attire. The black hat, frock coat, and black pants were absent. In their place were a straw hat, a plain white dress shirt (slightly unbuttoned), and khaki leisure pants, which blended well with Lilith’s white sundress. They walked, charmed with each other’s presence.  Upon reaching the area Lilith found so enchanting, Baptista immediately saw the beauty that had so captivated his guide. Everything about the atmosphere seemed heavenly, from the river’s peaceful flow to the trees’ gentle swaying at the wind’s command. Finding her usually place in paradise, she sat down on her knees, while Baptista lay on his back with his hands behind his head. They shared each other’s dreams and desires. They drifted together to ancient times and far away places. His hand encompassed hers. He noticed how her hair cascaded down her face. He was soon staring into her eyes. She felt his stare pierce her soul. She tempted to look away, but he quickly placed his hand on her chin and pressed his lips softly against hers. For several hours they held each other, enjoying their closeness. With the setting of the sun, they decided to make their way back to the town. Fearful for her safety, he walked her to her home. Upon reaching their destination, they continued laughing, holding hands, staring into each other eyes, and wishing time would remain still. Finally, he held her close and briefly kissed her. And then, he was off.

    In the coming months there were trips to their private sanctuary, meetings at the library, where he continued his research and she assisted whenever possible, dinner dates in town, visits to his bower, and walks in the park. Soon, people in town were talking and whispering about the unholy union. Whenever they were seen about in town, the townspeople stared with disdain, especially when they appeared together. The mere idea that a woman would leave her husband and take up company with another man was seen as sinful and unbecoming of a true Christian lady. Despite the constant barrage of criticisms levied against her character, she remained undaunted, for she had little concern for the thoughts that occupied the minds of her detractors. But there was concern for her parents – would this serve to embarrass them even more; would they be further isolated from the community; would their hearts be weakened again by her rebellious nature. These were the thoughts that ran through her mind, but, in the end, she knew that she had to remain true to herself.

    Lilith rarely mentioned whom she was spending her evenings with to her parents, who inquired whenever she came home at an unusual hour, but it wasn’t long before her parents began to hear the talk about their daughter. And it wasn’t long before Lilith’s father demanded a meeting between the two men. Despite her reservations, Lilith relented and asked Baptista would he be willing to meet with her parents, in which he readily agreed. The meeting was set for the following Sunday evening.  

    Lilith spent the entire Sunday in a nervous and an anticipative fit. Each emotion working against the other. When one seemed to be gaining the advantage, the other would usurp the other’s momentum. The anticipation was the result of waiting to see Baptista. The nervousness was the result of not knowing what to except from her father’s treatment of their guest. After church, each individual went about their usual Sunday activities.  Elizabeth went to the kitchen and began cooking, while Lilith’s father sat in his favorite chair and perused through the Bible. But today, his attention was divided between the Bible and the local newspaper, which stated on its front page in bold print: War Looms.  Lilith's father's piousness was only matched by his patriotism, since it was god's will that made the land of his birth great.  Lilith went about the house cleaning, straightening items, and periodically helping her mother in the kitchen. Every now and then, she would nervously look in her father’s direction, who appeared oblivious of the attention.

    A knock was heard lightly rapping on the door. Lilith’s heart skipped several beats before she regained her composure. Lilith went to the door and opened it. A voice was heard saying, "Hi, my dear," with excitement.

    Her father immediately looked up, putting his Bible on his stand. The guest was lead to his seat. Baptista greeted the other occupants and sat down. Few words were exchanged between Lilith’s father and Baptista, despite the latter’s efforts to strike up a conversation. There was a few glances directed toward Baptista, but for the most part, Lilith’s father was now busying himself with his pipe. Lilith soon reappeared to direct the gentleman to the room that also acted as a dining room. During diner, Elizabeth made general conversation – inquiring about the town he came from, inquiring about his job, commenting on the weather – while her husband observed quietly.

    After dinner, everybody returned to the front room. This time, Lilith made her place next to the guest, while Elizabeth sat in her special seat. Unlike their initial meeting, Lilith’s father initiated a conversation with the visitor. 

    "Your last name is Baptista," Lilith's father pondered for several seconds.  "That doesn't sound English," the old man looked suspiciously at the visitor.  

    "Your right.  My mother was English and my father was from Spain.  Because of his deep devotion to my mother, he remained in England, where I was born and raised."       

    "How long have you been in town?" her father asked, still with a hint of suspicion in his voice.    

    "A little under a year."

    "I haven’t seen you about much," continued the inquisitor.

    "I have been extremely busy with work and my research."

    "Work?"

    "Yes, I teach at the academy for boys," Baptista stated proudly.

    "Education is fine, but to much education tend to make one forget who is really in control. One must never forget the true source of his abilities," said Lilith’s father, raising his right eyebrow, anticipating Baptista’s next response.  

    "So I have heard said before," said Baptista, hesitantly.

    "So you heard said. Don’t you believe it?" her father lend forward in his seat, staring at the visitor.

    "Father, can't we please change the subject and talk about something less serious," pleaded Lilith.

    "Let the man answer the question," her father commanded.

    "I think man has to take responsibility for his own actions, whether he succeeds or fails."

    "The failures are ours; the success is do to his glory."    

    In an attempt to bring the conversation back under control before tempers erupted, Baptista, in an acquiescent manner, raised his hands and said, "Perhaps, maybe there is some truth in what you tell yourself."

    A perplex look pervaded the face of Lilith’s father, but he would not be deterred by fancy talk.

    "You say that you have been in town for nearly a year. I don’t believe I have ever seen you at any church services or functions," said Lilith’s father, inquisitively.

    "And you won’t, sir. For you see, my path to salvation is different from yours," Baptista stated boldly.

    "Your path?" the bewildered look returned to Lilith’s father’s face. He looked around at Elizabeth, then at his daughter. During the entire conversation, Elizabeth was sitting nervously behind her husband on the sofa, unable to concentrate on her knitting project. She also desired a change in conversation to ease the tension, but she knew her husband’s fervent determination well.

    "Yes, my path. I believe the life of man is filled with uncertainties and because of these uncertainties, we are forced to accept subjective truths that can never be proved. All beliefs are essentially unknowable, including the central tenets of Christianity. That is why I have a different take on all matters deemed spiritual."    

    "A different take, blasphemy. There can be only one truth, which has been revealed" the old man said enraged.

    "Your concept of Christianity is quite different from mine. I choose to live by my interpretations."    

    "What was handed down to my forefathers before me and revealed to me by them is the only interpretation anybody could ever need. And it will be only the true believers who will be allowed to go to heaven and be with God," the old man said with increase vexation, now leaning forward and clinching the arms of his chair.    

    "Well, sir, that’s your interpretation of things. But, others in this world have to be allowed to find their own way.  Because others choose a different path to follow for their salvation, does not make them less than the people who choose the Christian path. In life, we are all born at the bottom of the mountain. It does not matter what path one takes. It does not matter what side of the mountain one chooses to climb, as long as they are striving for the top. Those who spend their time trying to convince others to follow their path are actually impeding the way for others, for god has no preference. And for those who are open minded enough to make it to the top of the mountain finally realize god’s true goal, which is for man’s heart to be filled with unconditional love for all humanity. This is the god I serve and worship. Any other god should be disregarded as useless to humanity."

    "The God who gave us Christianity, so we can be saved and achieve everlasting happiness when we die, the God who sacrificed his only begotten son for our salvation, is useless?  Do you even love God?" demanded Lilith’s father.

    "Why, I should be asking you that question."

    "What?" the old man said in a bewildered tone.

    "No disrespect, but your interpretation is an example of man’s cowardice. Man refuses to be what he claims to love the most. Man says that he loves god. Man says that he loves heaven. But, then, he places god and heaven high above out of his reach. He seeks shelter from, and I stress from, the very things that he claims to adore the most.  Man says that he loves god. Man says that he loves heaven. But, then, he places god and heaven high above out of his reach. He seeks shelter from, and I stress from, the very things that he claims to adore the most. By doing this, man is allowed to talk like his god without acting like his god. This is cowardice. I think that the whole message and purpose of Jesus have been grossly misunderstood by his followers. You talk about a heaven in a sky, Jesus was talking about a heaven on earth. Jesus wanted to bring the kingdom of god to earth. He wanted to build a community among people of various lands and cultures under the mantra of love. But this message has been usurped by a more insidious message, the ecclesiasticism of the priests, who have been an enemy of mankind. They weigh mankind down with their myriad of creeds and rituals. They have only served to divide man into various sects, with each sect claiming that their way is the right and only way. Instead of men loving in the name of religion, they prefer to kill in the name of religion. But man doesn’t even stop there. They are bold enough to say, ‘god is on our side while they set out to destroy humanity and the will of their savior,’" Baptista said with passionate appeal to his inquisitor.

    Lilith’s father began to feel the weight of his ignorance in the presence of the more learned guest. He looked around for support for his position. Elizabeth and Lilith both sat quietly, one in bewilderment at the words of the visitor and the other in added enlightenment. Finally, the inquisitor lashed out uncontrollably at the visitor:

    "This is outrageous. It’s hedonistic. It’s blasphemous. This change in scriptures will be your road to damnation. Heaven can’t be on earth. Heaven must be afar, so man will continue to strive for his grace!"

    "Why not strive to make a heaven on earth for all god’s children to live in peace? This is what man’s faith should lead him into doing. Instead, man has reduced his faith to prayers and useless flatteries to the omnipotent.  And what do these prayers consist of? Hope for a better world? Everlasting peace? No! These prayers are usually centered on selfish gains at the expense of others. Lord, grant me this! Lord, grant me that! Lord, help me defeat my enemies in your name, as we are presently about to do! All nonsense."

    "I have heard all I can stand from this demonic talk. You have defiled the name of our Lord. And you have just insulted the country in which I, myself, once risked my life for. I wish you to go and never see my daughter again."

    At this statement, Lilith was upon her feet, nearly screaming, "You don’t have the right to make such a demand. I care deeply for him. And no command you could ever give can change my feelings."

    "I am still your father and you will obey," Lilith’s father said forcibly.

    "Oh, Odin, please," said Elizabeth in a pleading tone.

    Baptista rose from his seat, collected his disassembled attire, and turned to Lilith’s father, "As far as seeing your daughter again, I leave that to her. As far as darkening your door, I will obey your wishes," he paused for a second to look at Elizabeth and continued, "for I wish not to cause dissension and discomfort in your home. But, I would like to leave you with this. Neither your beliefs, nor mine, can be the absolute standard of morality. Our beliefs and revelations can only be a tool in directing us along the right path. Creeds are to aid in the moral fulfillment of its followers. There are myriad of ideas in this world, and they should all be respected if they promote moral excellence. People should be allowed to find their own savior wherever they choose and still be respected by others who decide to follow a decide path to salvation.  If this was the creed mankind lived by, the world would be a much better place.  Goodnight, sir," and the visitor, taking one last glance at Lilith, disappeared into the night, despite her supplications for him to stay.  Tears came to Lilith's eyes.  She turned on her father and they began to argue, with Elizabeth trying to quell them.  After much time elapsed with him commanding and she protesting, she dashed out of the house. She had to see Baptista tonight, to make sure that he was fine. As she headed for the bower in the direction that she had traveled on several occasions before, the heavens released its cleansing power.  By the time she reached her destination, she was completely wet. She saw the glow of a candle in the window. She hesitated, then knocked on the door. She could see a curtain in the window being pulled back. The door was immediately opened. The occupant put his arms around Lilith and brought her inside.

    "My dear, you are wet. You should not have come," Baptista said in a caring voice.

    "I just had to see you, if you are willing," she paused, "to see me."

    "I will always be willing, always. As I told your father, if you want to see me, I shall not complain. But you have to believe me. I didn’t want to argue with your father, but sometimes I become so passionate, I forget," he began shaking his head until Lilith put her hands on his cheeks and said:

    "I understand, I understand," she said gently.

    He looked deeply into her eyes and said: "Nothing can compare to your beauty. The evening sun descending behind the majestic hills; the glistening dew kissing the morning grass; the soft rustle of the leaves at the wind’s command; the waves on the water as they rush to shore and recede from whence they came – all pale to the beauty you possess."

    They kissed passionately.    

    The hunger that their bodies felt was soon engulfed by their oneness. They felt liberation in being close to each other.  While others imprisoned themselves with their pious belief systems, they would choose freedom – freedom to think, freedom to be human, freedom to love unconditionally, freedom to express their sexual desires.  Worldly concerns dissipated in a cloud of smoke.  Their passions ran deep as an ecstasy of intense pleasure consumed them. He felt peace and joy inside her garden, and she fulfillment.  This night was the first of many nights where they would come together to satisfy their innate hunger.

The candidness of her behavior – from her manner of dress to her lack of attendance at sectarian activities – was the cause of increase stares, whispers, and even jeers, but Lilith remained oblivious. She was in love, truly in love. She had never experienced love of this magnitude before – to be loved by someone, who loved her for her, someone who was willing to accept her without trying to change her.  Nothing could bring her down, not even the coldness of her father’s attitude toward her. The routine of her days remained the same – work at the library, Baptista coming to the library after work from the academy, visits to the bower, trips to their sanctuary on the weekends.  Despite the acerbities levied against her, she felt a sense of heavenly bliss. She could only hope that her happiness could last forever, but life, just like the capricious wind, is ever so changing.  The events of the day were soon catching up to them.

    Several weeks had passed and another wintry season was upon them. The greenery and myriad of colors that littered the fields were withering. The setting of the summer landscape was slowly giving way to the demands of nature. Nature’s luster was losing its glow. But this deadening effect was not just limited to nature. Baptista’s exuberant disposition toward Lilith seemed to be changing as well. Where there was once gladness on his countenance when in her presence, there was now sadness. Where there was once immense passion in his heart, weariness was now looming. Reticence was replacing candour. The change was becoming quite apparent to Lilith. She began to long for the caring and loquacious person that she had fallen in love with, who now seemed submerged in deep thought. Attempting to break through the wall that Baptista was building around himself, she went to his bower to plead for his confidence.        

    For several minutes, Baptista stared at the beautiful countenance. He gave a slight smile and then turned his back to her. He gave a deep sign of despair.

    "My dear, I know I have not been myself lately. But something has come to me that greatly grieves me."

    Lilith walked over to him and put her hands on his back for comfort.    

    "Whatever it is, our love can conquer it," she said tenderly.

    He turned around and looked deeply into her eyes. Then, dropping his head, he turned around and walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer, took out an official letter, and handed it to her. She read it. Her heart sank, as she now understood what he had been enduring for the past couple of weeks.

    "They can’t. They just can’t," she said despairingly, sinking into a chair.

    He knelt before her, holding her hands.

    "I have tried everything," he said with tears coming to his eyes, "but nothing has worked."

    "We have so much to live for and they seek to destroy it with their ways," she said as tears began filling her eyes.

    "I leave in two weeks." He refused to allow his eyes to meet hers.

    "Two weeks," she whispered after him.

    "I promise, I promise, I will come back to you, no matter what hell they send me to," he said, now looking her directly in the eyes.

    She tempted to lower her head, but Baptista placed his hand on her chin and said, "I promise," he then kissed her.  

    They would seek to make every moment last. There were nights where they just held each other as closely as possible, as if trying to merge into one being. Trying to smile became even more painful than crying. Nothing mattered, but the warmth of their touch. The times she spent apart from his presence were spent longing to be near him. She could only think of days when their happiness seemed to be endless. And now, those fourteen days that were to run out slowly had run out fast and was gone. She accompanied him to the train station, where he would depart. There was a sea of people waving flags, as a band played patriotic tunes. The throng was in a fervor. Others, like Lilith, came to see their loved ones off and wish them safe return. The scene that they hoped to avoid was now upon them. Various noises could be heard coming from the train. A man’s voice bellowed over the mass confusion, calling for all passengers to board the train.  Young men flooded pass the despondent lovers. Tears filled their eyes. One could not begin to fathom the depths of sadness they felt upon their parting. They embraced passionately one last time. Then, he held her firmly by the shoulders and said to her, "Before a chasm is wedged between us, I need for you to know that I would prefer to go through eternity with you than with any other. You saved me," he paused, finding it harder to speak. "You saved me from the decadence of this world. No matter how mad the world becomes as it spirals into the abyss, your love must remain pure. It is people like you who must teach the world that there is a better way. It is people like you who will be the saviors of this earth. As I leave you, I can truly say I now know what it feels like to reside in hell."

    By this time, Lilith had broken down in tears, but mustered the strength to say, "I love you."

    Their lips tenderly osculated and, then, they parted.  He gathered his belongings and disappeared into the flood. As he walked down the aisle to his seat, a porter patted him on the back and stated his support for men like him.  As the train pulled out from the station, central in Baptista’s mind was the state of mankind. Forever the truth seeker, he had long since sought empirical evidence to prove the depravity of mankind as being unique in comparison to other species in the animal kingdom. He researched the habits of other species, extinct and extant, which made him quite aware of the cruel nature of the lower animals, and compared them to humans. He compared humans from various cultures. He had read great philosophical works covering the propensities of human behavior. But in the end, his findings remained inconclusive. He was always left with the question, "Were the actions of man truly representative of depravity or just a normal response to his surroundings, as with other animals?" And now, as the crowd cheered gaily at their departure, as the band played encouraging tunes for their sanguinary endeavors, as people on board the train praised their courage, Baptista was struck with an epiphany. Baptista pondered about man’s acceptance of what is normal with his ability to think on a higher level. "Yes, that’s it," he thought. He was finally able to conclude what made man’s depravity unique in comparison to other living beings. "We are the rational beings. We are the sapiens. And despite man’s attainment of higher knowledge, it is what he is still willing to accept as being normal, which provides clear evidence of his depravity." But this revelation as the miles widened between him and the bearer of his heart and soul did not serve to assuage his wounded heart.  The normalcy of man had managed to strike a fatal blow to his existence.  The rest of the night was spent with his mind oscillating between his beloved and mankind’s depraved nature.

    Lilith summoned up the courage to continue her daily activities, but a minute did not go by that she did not pine for a return of happier times. Baptista’s cousin had promised to look after the bower and his belongings. Any letters sent to Lilith would go through him. A letter arrived once a week for the first four months of his deployment. He had promised her to write a letter a week, which he managed to fulfill. Whether short or long, every letter was cherished equally. She longed for her weekly meetings with Baptista’s cousin. She was like a child in a candy store, waiting impatiently for his or her treat.  In them, Baptista expressed devoutly his undying love for her.  He intentionally left out the horrors that he witnessed. Each word served to uplift her spirits. She read every letter several times, wishing it was his voice saying each word.    

    The week that ushered in the town’s annual winter festivities began and ended like any other week.  On the finally night, merriment filled the atmosphere as people openly expressed their joy. Decorations littered the town. Flowers adorned the doors of homes and stores alike. Ribbons with seasonal colors were tied around trees in bow like fashion. In the dark of the wintry night, the people braved the harrowing elements and ignored the incessant howls. Not a soul in town seemed deterred. Men of all ages could be seen dragging into town the biggest logs they could find in the woods and setting them ablaze. Each spark seemed to leap deep into the night air. Over some fires, meat was roasting. The smell of cooking flesh was one of various aromas that filled the air. Reverie and feasting reigned everywhere. Many of the youths in the community dressed in extravagant costumes and ran wildly about, while the older members dressed in their regular attire and congregated into small groups to converse gaily. Small children were carried on their father’s shoulders or lead by the hand by their mothers.

    On this day of festivities, Lilith had arranged to meet Baptista’s cousin, Lilith had arranged to meet Baptista’s cousin to pick up her letter. After helping around the house, she heading for her intended destination. She passed townspeople who were busying themselves with the night’s celebration. In the past, she had looked forward to the merriment, but this year she was filled with worry. Upon reaching the place, she knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer. She walked to the window on the right side of the house and looked in. There was complete darkness inside. Disappointed, Lilith turned to head home, walking dejectedly along the same path she had come. As she turned to walk down the business district, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. It was Baptista’s cousin coming toward her from the opposite side of the street. Her heart leaped with excitement, but the owner of the voice had a grave look on his face. He informed her that no letter from Baptista had come this week. A concern look appeared on her face. He assured that if anything came, he would send it to her immediately. She thanked him and continued home.  

    By the time she made it home, her mind was racing from one extreme to the other. Had he been killed? Had he been serious injured? Had his duties been so burdensome that there was no time to put pen to paper? If only there was some way of knowing whether he was safe. Upon reaching her house, she burrowed herself into her room. While her parents prepared for the night’s activities with the rest of the townspeople, she lay deep in thought. Hours passed. She opened her eyes to complete darkness.

    By the time she made it home, her mind was racing from one extreme to the other.  Had he been killed? Had he been serious injured? Had his duties been so burdensome that there was no time to put pen to paper? If only there was some way of knowing whether he was safe. She burrowed herself into her room. While her parents prepared for the night’s activities with the rest of the townspeople, she lay deep in thought. Hours passed. She opened her eyes to complete darkness. She resumed her thoughts of him. Soon, the sounds from the outside filtered into her room. She tried to ignore them, but there was simply no escaping, as the sounds pervaded the night air. The joyous sounds only served to disturb her even more. A mixture of feelings began running through her. On the one hand, she felt weighted down by a sense of abject hopelessness. Not knowing the fate of her betrothed was beginning to take its toll on her. Four hours had passed and she was nearly an emotional wreck. "Why didn’t he write," she kept thinking. On the other hand, she felt contempt at the execrable nature of man. How could man engage in merriment when their fellow countrymen’s lives lay in constant danger? How could man accept this madness?

    Next week came and went, and once again, he had failed to write. Several weeks passed with no word. Lilith was beside herself. All her thoughts were of him. Her emotional state began to wear on her physical state. Each day, she was eating less and less. In the beginning, she tried to hide her anguish, but eventually she could no longer conceal her grim aspect. Her entire anatomy had changed, but, somehow, the emaciated figure managed to carry on as best she could. Every now and then, she would even muster up the will to smile briefly. Lilith’s change in deportment was evident to all that encountered her. The townspeople credited her disparity to her wicked ways. "What does one expect when they turn away from the Lord," thought many. Her father, who had yet to forgive her for her defiance, continued his obstinate attitude toward her, saying as little to her as possible, even as she withered away, but her mother took a more humane approach.  She prayed for her, she comforted her, she shed tears for her. She did everything a benevolent guardian was supposed to do for an ailing child, and Lilith was deeply appreciative, even though her present state of mind prevented her from being more outwardly gracious.

    More weeks passed without a word. Her days consisted of work and confinement in her room. The once vibrant young woman was now a hollow shell. Life was passing her by and she could do nothing to keep pace. Then, one day, Baptista’s cousin appeared at her parents’ doorstep. Lilith’s father was attending to business at a council meeting. Elizabeth answered the door, exchanged salutations with the man see had in town, and called for Lilith. After straightening herself as best she could, she appeared at the door. Lilith saw that the man had a grave expression on his face. She stepped slowly outside. The gentleman looked into the pallid face and told her the news she had been dreading since the abeyance of Baptista’s letters. Upon hearing the words, she fainted.    

    When she regained consciousness, the words, "Status....Missing in action for several weeks, presumed dead," still echoed in her head. After receiving this news, all the hope that had served to give her strength was extinguished. She had been cast into eternal damnation. The anguish she felt from being separated from her true love was more than she could bear. The exorbitant pain was crushing her.  Thoughts that she had never entertained were now haunting her. What could life mean to her now? She would never see her one and only true love again. Thoughts of being with another man abhorred her, just as the thought of bearing another man’s child, which she knew she would never be able to do. She was drowning in her thoughts. With each passing week, she sunk deeper into despair. There was nothing she or anybody could do. Her mother with all the love of a caring human being tried earnestly to lift her spirits. Her father, on the other hand, like the townspeople, inanely suggested that her anguish was do to her lack of faith and that only strict obedience to her nonsecular upbringing could deliver her.

    Finally, nearing the brink of absolute madness, from deep within her burrow, she decided on her only recourse. She put on the dress that was Baptista’s favorite and headed out the door unbeknownst to her parents. She went to her sanctuary. She knelt by the river and reflected on the past year. Tears of joy came to her eyes when she thought about the love she shared with Baptista. Then, she thought of life without him. She pounded her fist into the ground. She looked at her reflection in the river. She no longer recognized the face staring back at her. She passed her hand over the image.  Once the water calmed, the haunting image had reappeared. Lilith thought about why she had come to the only place that had afforded her peace. Then, she decided to go forth with her decision. She placed her feet into the glistening water, remembering how in the past this simple act brought her immense pleasure. Soon, her entire body was immerged completely. The pain would soon be over.    

     Three years had passed and the war had come to an end. The town’s youth trickled back home. Many returned scarred for life, emotionally and physically. The people of Tartarus welcomed them with open arms. Euphoria for the brave warriors was at a fervor pitch. Flags and patriotic signs were littered all over the town. Men who returned wearing their uniforms were barraged with handshakes and pats on the back. Among those who came back was a young man, wearing a black frock coat and black hat to match, just as he had four years earlier. The horrors of being in a prisoner of war camp had taken its toll on his body. He now walked with a noticeable limp and needed the aid of a cane. It would take a long time for the once healthy body to heal. But the mental anguish that he was now forced to endure far out weighed the physical pain. Upon his release from captivity, Baptista wrote to Lilith, while in the hospital. In a lengthy letter, his cousin unregrettably informed him what had transpired.

    For several months, Baptista lay deep in thought. Many days went by without an utterance of a word. All that was important to him in this world was gone. He longed to be with her, to feel her touch, to hear the voice that once assuaged his heart, to see the smile that once lit up his countenance. But, with the news from his cousin, hope had turned into perpetual despair.  There were times when he thought of joining her, but knew he must carry on.

    Now, as he walked down the streets of Tartarus, he saw her image everywhere. The pleasant life he once shared with her remained foremost on his mind. Tears came to his eyes. The memory of it all became too much of a strain on his brain. The rustic setting that once brought him joy was overbearing. He knew immediately that he would have to leave, if only to maintain his sanity. But, before he went, he had to know what were her last days were like.  Two days would pass before he built up the courage to visit the parents of Lilith.  For two days, he just sat in his cousin’s house thinking about the life that could have been.

    He knocked lightly on the door. The door slowly opened, a weary looking face appeared from behind the door. Recognizing the familiar face, she invited him inside. He immediately expressed his deepest condolence. The figure that once reigned supreme with absolute authority over his home now sat in silence in his chair. He acknowledged the visitor with a quick look, but no words. Sorrow ran deep in both their faces. Elizabeth spoke at length in a trembling voice about her daughter’s anguish over losing him. Listening to woman and occasionally glancing in the eyes of the old man only added to his pain. After some time, Baptista parted company with the grieving couple. The day was still young when he decided to make his most difficult journey since his return to Tartarus.    

    As he came closer to his intended destination, the pain in his heart became increasingly unbearable, but he knew that he must go forth. The sanctuary was just as lovely as when he first gazed upon it with Lilith, everything in full bloom, but the same feelings did not pervade his being as when he first came with his beloved. Tears filled his eyes. Words were useless. He simply bowed his head and lamented over his loss. Hours passed with him deep in thought. A gentle rain began to fall. The time had finally come for him to move on. The next day, he boarded the noon train and left Tartarus, never to return."