David Strumfels: To Learn, to Love, to Live

Still, he knew eventually the trials would be over, these hard moments behind them and their future happy and confident again. Or at least, he thought he knew. But when the time came that she burst out with the accusation that he loved Gaia more than he loved her—how could she not see that both were one and the same, that each reinforced the other?—that was the first time he finally permitted himself to wonder if they would one day go their separate ways.

It was also the last time he ever thought about quitting the program.

It was the culmination of his studies, however, that finally strained their marriage to the breaking point. “Don’t you realize how dangerous that is?” Janet screamed at him when he told her about the astronaut training. “You could get killed! Why do you have to do this? Why?”

“It’s important that I do this,” was his answer. “Try to understand: you can’t really comprehend something until you step away from it and study it as a whole; and you can’t grasp your connectedness to it until you try to detach yourself from it,” He started to say more, than sighed at the absurdity of even trying to make her understand what was so obvious to him anymore. He shook his head: there was a time when they shared so much; now—

The simple fact was, he was not the same Bill Malone she’d married. All of a sudden that was clear in a way it had not been before; clear as an unpolluted night sky, blazing with stars. These last few years had transformed him, in ways and to an extent he could not even have imagined in advance. More important, that she could not imagine now. The simple fact was she could no longer understand. Or even communicate. She didn’t possess the knowledge, or wisdom, to do so.

He could not bring himself to give up yet, however. “Do you want me to go back to the Jiffy Mart?” he finally offered, wondering what he would do if she said yes. But she did not say it; “I suppose not. Anyway, it’s too late to start over.” Her eyes settled upon his. “All right, Mr. Malone: go to the Moon and the stars if that’s what you have to do. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Hearing that made him feel better. It was good to know that she hadn’t given up yet either.

He didn’t go that far. But six months in orbit, studying the global effects of pollutants on the ozone layer, while spending four hours in meditation each day before the blue-green Goddess of all life, transformed Bill in a way that even contact with an alien civilization couldn’t have. And in some very specific ways. “I’ve been thinking a great deal,” he revealed one of them to Janet when he got back. “I know the law allows us to have our one child, but…”

The divorce proceedings were begun the next day. Bill exhaled the tensions of the last couple of years; in retrospect he’d seen it coming for so long now that to finally have it happen was more denouement than climax. He was even able to find some humor in the situation: at least he wouldn’t have to worry about cheating on his spouse when he became a Big Businessperson, or whatever he would be eventually.

Assuming he ever had time for that part of life again. Or interest.

He went to see Professor Eisenhart immediately after the graduation ceremonies. His old prof still had the grimness, the same steel in his manners, but he greeted Bill warmly. “I’ve been expecting you for some time, my boy. How does it feel to be finally among the elite?”

“It’s hard to believe I was ever anything else,” Bill admitted. “That I spent so much of my life in ignorance—and worse, thought I was enlightened the whole time.”

“Now you understand what I meant with that remark about the Marquis de Sade,” Eisenhart laughed. They laughed together. He did indeed understand.

“Now get out there, Bill Malone, and don’t cut ’em any slack.”

Bill grinned. He was ready, and knew it.

It was a few hours later, while packing his stuff from his and Janet’s compartment, that he came across the letter. His first reaction was surprise that he’d never bothered to trash it, even after four years. Of course he realized that it must have had special significance when he’d first read it, but that was practically a lifetime ago…

The best thing that ever happened to you. And not just to you: Janet’s hands are on your shoulders, her smile on the back of your head, her warmth in your soul. Reaching back, you take her hand and squeeze it tightly, almost too tightly.

He wasn’t sure how the tears started, or how long he’d been crying. Or, once he realized it, how long Janet had been standing behind him, watching his convulsions. Perhaps hours.

“Where did we screw up?” he asked without turning. “How did it end up like this? How?”

How? Don’t ask how. It just happens, that’s all. People go their paths; sometimes they’re different paths, even if they start at the same place. That’s life.

“Don’t be so defeatist,” she said, reading his mind again. “Sometimes, people just get lost. Or get left behind on the trail for a while. But if you give them enough time…”

This time he did turn. She sat down, and placed a hand on his arm. “Read the letter again,” she instructed him, with a soft smile on her face. “More carefully.”

“Wha—?” But he did so, though how a four-year-old letter—he read it again, this time more carefully. Then again. And again. Then he was scrolling through it over and over, unable to believe its contents, his hands and heart trembling. And something wild inside him, fighting to break out.

This was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“It came for me just this morning,” she explained. “I was going to tell you. I—I’m going to need a lot of help to get through the next four years. Especially if everything you told me about Professor Eisenhart is true. But I’m sure I can make it. I know I can.”

He was crying again, but this time it was from joy. “I know you can, too. I’ve always known it. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. We’ll get through it all right, you’ll see.”

He made many other confident statements as well. But it was the gigantic hug and kiss that communicated his feelings better than anything.

Getting his first position proved easier than Bill had expected. Of course he had a wealth of assignments to pick from, but since they were all going to be ground-floor opportunities it made sense to take the one he was already most familiar with. It was pure serendipity that the management opening at the Jiffy Mart developed at the same time he received his degree.

The suit and tie were uncomfortable, but Bill knew he would get accustomed to them. Nor did he ever complain, even inwardly, about the long hours; running a business, even a small business, in an environmentally sound manner was in itself more than reward for the time and energy. As Janet was learning herself, to serve Gaia was an honor, not a burden.

He did wish they had more time together. What precious little time they did have was almost entirely devoted to her studies. Sometimes it got so bad he found himself wishing she would go back to her job at the arboretum, and leave loving the Earth to him. But only half wishing—she couldn’t give up now, not after all they’d been through. Besides, he knew that once Janet completed the path he’d been down, their relationship would be that much the richer for it. Yes, it was well worth the struggle, however hard it became and however long it lasted.

For after all, in the end that was the whole point of it, wasn’t it? To learn how to love all living things without sacrificing your own life or its loves. To be one and one with the whole. To interconnect while still feeling your own heart beat. To live life to its greatest and smallest.