"`I will conceal nothing from you, Father,' I said. `I'm not fit for anything. My life is one long chain of disasters and failures. I can show you lost opportunities and crucial mistakes in setting and meeting any sort of goals. Needless to say, I'm not proud of any of that, but it's the truth, and there's nothing I can do to make it either go away or change. I beg you therefore, Father, don't tell me that the Creator fashioned mankind in his own image and form. If that were true in my case, then the Creator who made me would need to be ashamed of what He had created and chew His fingers in sheer regret.'
"The monk was not the slightest bit upset by what I had said nor did he treat it as sacrilege. Instead he gave me a response that was consoling and reassuring. `Every lost sheep thinks the way you do, my son,' he said. `But, whenever the times seem to turn against you and other weak creatures like you, they make sure that you are returned to the fold because of your excessive concern about the minutiae of this ephemeral world of ours. That is the way it has been since the beginning of creation and for century after century. The ways of God are not for knowing or examination.'
"It was with firm step and resolution that I withdrew, my eyes riveted on the earth beneath my feet. Ever since that encounter, I have had this desire to meet God so that I can discuss with Him (in a short chat or a dream even) a variety of pressing and complex issues. I want it to be head to head, over a table, in a cave, or under a tree, with the wind blowing free. No ceremony, no intermediaries, and no translator.
"Eventually there came the night-perhaps after a hundred of them-when in a dream I saw a being crowned with light. Not for a single second did I hesitate before ascribing to Him the attributes of God. At first I was somewhat scared, but then I prepared myself to embark upon the conversation. But I had scarcely opened my mouth before I felt myself violently enveloped by a sharp, loud voice that simply repeated the precise words that Paulo the monk had used with me earlier. When in my panic I spotted that same Paulo drawing ever closer to me with a mocking, crafty look on his face and then withdrawing amid the ringing of chants and bells, I leapt out of bed, eyes bulging, tongue lolling, and body sagging. It only took a few days to complete the purgation of those things that tied me to this world and its people, after which I set out on my way. I have traversed my homeland and the straits, and now here I stand before you, Sir, all tatters and anxieties. By now I have despaired of the above-mentioned priest and my own God, and I ask for succor from your own God."
I immediately started communing with myself, asking God the Almighty, the Lofty and Powerful, God of all peoples, to offer forgiveness. What was I supposed to say to this vagrant, recusant Christian? Would he understand me, I wondered, if I spoke to him in a way that would normally require me to use gestures and symbols with my own students?
I decided to use uncomplicated language in the hope that some of it might manage to offer him some comfort and ease his situation.
"Brother in faith," I told him, "it is by observation and experience that I have now been drawn to the conclusion that anyone who fails to aspire to the loftiest of delights must inevitably find himself groveling in the lowest of pits. The elixir of perfection lies in the quest for it. God's pathways are treacherous, because they are tortuous and steep, and yet they are neither closed nor inaccessible to those who would tread the path of knowledge. Those who decide to pursue that path are given commands. `O human,' they are told, `strip yourself of your illusions and fancies. Make it your goal to rise upward, thus overcoming inertia. You are bound to encounter the luminescence of closeness to God. Make a point of regularly engaging in rigorous endeavor and forceful hypothesis, and you will find yourself blending with the corpus of phases and the comprehension of the Living One. Through knowledge and exploration you may well arrive at the very dominion of truth."'
As I said this, I suddenly realized that it was almost certainly like a passage from my missing manuscript: "If God is either extremely obscure or extremely obvious, there can be no need for learning."
With that the man leapt to his feet, his eyes agleam with the spark of someone who has just become aware of God. He paused for a moment, as though contemplating or recalling something, and then addressed his soul in his own language. As far as I could understand, he was posing it a question.
"What are you asking about, thou guest of God?" I asked.
"The ascetics' forest! Am I anywhere near it?" he inquired.
"About two miles away," I replied.
"The words you have just spoken-may God reward you for them! — have made me long to be there. I will make my way to it and to its inhabitants."
"By all means do so," I told him, "but you need to realize that the people dwelling there will only warm to you if you discard all the superfluities of your existence the same way they themselves have. If you find them pondering the heavenly kingdom and praying submissively, do not try to talk to them. If you do happen to speak to them and they run away, you should be aware that it is the very smell of you that makes them distance themselves. At that point, Pedro, begin as they began. Don't hurry. Roll in the dust and purge yourself with water whenever you find any. Warm yourself by the lighted candle and breathe in the pure air. Wherever you alight, wherever you turn your gaze, there will be the face of God. Just speak His name, and you will see Him looking into your eager, monotheistic soul."
I stood up to say farewell to my guest. He hugged me joyfully and, with tears in his eyes, wished me well. With that he hurried out.
"0 Lord," I prayed, "I have counseled your erring servant who needed to do things I have not done myself and have thus empowered him. So forgive and restore me, then move me toward those sublime goals and still loftier love."
I kept praying to my soul for elevation and purity of spirit, when all the while it was completely preoccupied with the woman who kept disturbing my waking and sleeping hours and penetrating my inner self and every line of text…. A woman about whom I was totally ignorant! The way she had looked at me at the port, her letter to me… Now here I found myself drawn toward her in a way I had never felt before. Was this a disaster that the fates had thrown in my path in order to test me? Or was it instead a form of relief and an opening? Or again a fall into the abyss? In the context of the present, that is the glaring question; indeed, more than that, the very foundation and principal core of those questions.
The rest of the day afforded me enough time to embark on some selective investigations. On the morrow however, it would be a matter-with God's strength-of more applied and focused energy.
5
NEXT DAY I WOKE up full of energy, although my mind was still moistened by a dream whose particulars had dissipated, leaving behind some vague and contradictory shards. I performed my ablutions and prayed, then put on my clothes and some scent. I was planning to go down into the city again to replenish my provisions and check on the general situation of the people there. That is exactly what I did.
The first place to which my own two feet guided me was the port. Right by the entrance I spotted the woman's messenger, almost as though he were waiting for me to arrive. Using body movements and winks he gestured to me to follow him, but I decided not to do so in case people were keeping an eye on me and for fear of arousing suspicions. Instead I went into the fish market and bought several types, except for carp, that is. Then I went to the herb and perfume markets and purchased whatever supplies I needed. Every time I turned around, it was to find the same young man watching me and making the same lewd gestures. I headed for the vegetable market and filled the remaining space in my basket with fruit and vegetables.