Aurator, The (20 page)

There was a pause and I could only guess some remembrance of sadness. I connected the jeweler’s knowledge of us suddenly with more depth.

“Max? How many of us are there in San Francisco?” I asked.

“Hmmm,” he pondered, “I don’t know exactly. Remember though, except for the Seniors in Greece and us, no one has been formally organized. The Seniors have only been together for around thirty years or so, and that was at the urging of Tomas and… well… others.”

Just then the door opened and my other two girls came in. They saw the television on and looked at me inquisitively, to which I waved that it was okay and they disappeared. It’s okay, I thought, double homework tomorrow. I took a moment to mouth, “Where’s Dad?” Alex whispered back, “He’s working in the garage.”

Max cleared his throat. “Anyway, I went off on a tangent. I’m sorry. These purposes went on for some time, but one night in particular was very difficult and I got hurt in the scuffle. It was my own fault really. I fell off a scaffolding. Don’t ask how. I came home that night and had some scrapes on my face and arm. Vivian was there and when she asked what happened… I… well, I thought about lying but I was tired of lying. Not being able to keep it from her anymore, I began to tell her the whole story. She sat on the couch next to me, listening to everything. She made no attempt to interrupt or ask questions. When I was finished, I hung my head and would not make eye contact… ashamed. Not for doing what I had done but for being dishonest.

“She got up from the couch at that moment and walked out, shutting the door behind her. I was so scared. I thought for sure she was going to pack, take our two sons, and leave me. Or call a doctor or the police.”

I wanted to interrupt him to ask questions but I was sitting on my seat, engrossed in each word he spoke.

“Moments later she reentered the room holding a box. She sat back down on the couch next to me and placed the box on the coffee table. I wondered what was in the box. It looked like an old sewing kit, and for a split second I hoped she didn’t have a gun in there.”

He chuckled at this.

“Well, needless to say, I’m still here. She unclasped the lid and swung it open. Taking out antiseptic and bandages, she began to clean and cover my abrasions. We still laugh about that box, I’m the doctor in the house and didn’t even know there was a first aid kit. She did not speak while she cleaned each wound, and quite frankly I knew better than to say anything. When she was finished she closed the box and sighed. I waited, nervously.

“She said to me, ‘Max, you’ve never given me any reason to distrust you. You are a great husband and father. You have an amazing work ethic and genuinely care about others.’

“Then looking at me she said, ‘I believe you. We always agreed we wanted to make a real difference and here’s the opportunity.’”

Max paused for a moment, then said, “I was ecstatic, this had gone considerably better than I had anticipated. ‘However,’ she started again, ‘I will not have our sons put into jeopardy. So mark my words, I love you and will stay with you, but the minute our children are in danger I will leave and you will never hear from me again.’ I remember this so vividly. Her eyes were intense with no hint of indecision. From then on she knew everything. Everywhere I was going, what I was doing and what I had done. It has made things much easier, but not everyone is as open with their family. You have to make the decision that is right for you, Megan.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I’m assuming that the reason you asked me this question was not because you are so entranced with my life that you need to know more. Rather, you’re gathering information to make a well-informed choice of your own. Am I right?”

I smiled, “Yes, you’re right.”

“Well, dear, only you will know if it’s right or not. If I can help in any other way I will.”

I didn’t seem to flinch when he called me dear. I thought about this for a moment, took a deep breath, and then took a leap of faith to speak. “Max?”

“Yes?”

“I’m a little curious about my husband’s… aura.”

“What about it?” he asked with interest.

I dropped my voice slightly in case any of the girls were listening in on my conversation, “Well… when I married him it was, white… sort of, and gold-like, shimmering… it seemed to make me feel safe and secure.”

Max interrupted, “It’s what?! Did you say gold in color? That is…”

But I cut him off because that was not my point. “Max, listen to me… it’s not now… it’s, well, dark.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Hello? Are you there?”

He cleared his throat to let me know he was still on the line but then said nothing. I waited for what felt like forever until he finally spoke.

“Megan, I think we should talk about this. You are not supposed to be with a dark aura. This can’t be good… for you. Plus I don’t understand why it would… change.”

He spoke with a tone of authority that I had not heard before. “Max, I thought we had discussed how auras can change based on decisions. Well, I don’t know what decisions he could be making that would cause this, but… oh I don’t know anymore.”

I could hear him take a deep breath in, “I’m sorry Megan, you are right, it
can
change. I’m just surprised… I…” but then he trailed off in a leading fashion and I knew it was my turn to speak.

I wanted to ask more questions about his reaction but decided to table the conversation.

“Max, thanks for everything and for looking out for me. Can we talk about this later?”

“You’re welcome. Anything to help you, and yes, we will discuss this later. We will have to.” His voice was not encouraging or supportive but rather pacifying.

We said good-bye and hung up. I announced loudly that television time was over and it was time to get homework done. I giggled when I heard the chorus of “Aaawww.”

The family had a wonderful night. We laughed over dinner, took a walk before it got dark, and then everyone settled into bed. Even Luke, who had seemed so distant lately, appeared to have a good night.

That night I couldn’t sleep. Getting out of bed I walked downstairs. I picked up my phone and dialed Max’s number before looking at the clock. Ugh, 12:15 a.m., but it was too late to hang up, the phone was already ringing.

“Hello?” Wow, he answered.

“Max?”

“Hi Megan, what can I do for you?”

“Geez, don’t you ever sleep?”

“I’ll sleep all I want when I’m dead,” he said.

“I’ve heard that before. Listen, I want to talk to you about Luke and… well… everything.”

“Sure, why don’t you come by the house tomorrow, say around ten? We’ll see if we can’t have another
history
lesson.” His voice flitted about as if he knew something I didn’t.

“Okay, thanks.”

I hung up the phone after our good-byes.

24. Distant
 

The next morning we all awoke and got ready for the day. Luke was definitely in a foul mood and had announced he wasn’t going to work. His aura seemed darker, and I found myself trying not to make eye contact. The girls were thrilled to see both Luke and me taking them to school.

“Daddy?” Trina asked.

“What honey?”

“Are you sick? Why are you not going to work?”

“I’m going in, just later.”

Keeping my eyes on the road, I could feel him looking at me from the passenger seat.

After dropping each girl off, we drove back to the house. Once inside, I explained that I had errands to run.

He sneered under his breath, “Always have somewhere to run off to, don’t you?”

My heart hurt when I heard his disgusted tone, and I shook my head back and forth slowly. “What Luke? What have I done? Why are you like this? I don’t understand.”

Losing the battle against the tears that were struggling to break free, I began to cry. I sat down on the couch and put my face in my hands. I let the tears flow. In all the years we’ve been together, I had never felt as distant from him as I did in this moment. In so many ways I was so strong now, but with this man I felt so vulnerable and fragile. This was foreign, and a very scary place for me to be. My rock, whom I have depended on for years, was crumbling in front of me, and I didn’t have any idea how to fix it.

Luke walked over to sit beside me, but as he did I felt a cold front emanating from his aura push against my side and I instinctively pulled away. He responded to my movement and did not attempt to move any closer.

He took a deep breath and began to speak. “I’m sorry for… well, I don’t know what for. Something is different lately, and, quite frankly I have been blaming you. You seem distant and gone, not here. Even when you’re here in the flesh you seem otherwise preoccupied. But the truth is that I seem to be going through something right now. I’m not sure why, but for the first time since we’ve been together I don’t feel connected to you.” He paused to see if I would respond.

Looking up finally, I noticed that his aura had a slight shimmer to it. My husband was in there somewhere. I asked him, “What can I do? I don’t like us like this.”

He shook his head to show he had no answers.

Not wanting to leave things like this, I reached out for him. Pushing past the coolness, I took his hand. He squeezed my hand back, but things were different. “What now?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he responded. “You know, other friends have gone through troubled times and they have come out of it just fine. It’s just…” He turned away as if looking for an escape from the room. He got up, and I watched him pull his fingers through his wavy blonde hair as he walked away from me. He drew in a long breath before he spoke again. “I don’t know what’s going on. I’m so angry all the time. I’ve never felt like this and I don’t like it but… well it’s just where I am right now.”

“Do we need to go to counseling?” I asked. The husband I used to know would never frown on outside help, but this man? I wasn’t sure he’d be up for it.

My breath caught as he turned around briskly and I felt a sharp stab of cold. My instincts to react to this fired up, and I fought to keep my actions under control. I waited and watched as he glared at me for what felt like hours. His face looked angry and pained with words that were struggling to get out and lips that were desperately trying to keep them in. A black aura stretched around what looked like his shimmering gold aura trying to break through the heavy armor. After several moments the scuffle seemed to end as the shimmering gold glimmer of hope slipped away.

He sighed a long sigh, and I knew the conversation was coming to an end. The face that had anger and frustration on it just moments before fell into a flat emotionless facade, covering every emotion he was not willing to entertain. Walking toward the front door he grabbed his jacket, but turned slightly without making eye contact to add one last parting thought. “I don’t know how much longer I can feel this way… do… this.” And then he was gone.

25. The Light
 

A couple of hours had passed since Luke walked out the door. All I knew at this moment was that I needed to change my shirt, which had become saturated with tears. I wish I had an answer for this. What makes someone go so wrong? Was I to blame? Was I doomed to spend the rest of my life with the man who just walked out the door? So many questions and not enough answers.

I jumped at the sound of my cell phone ringing. I raced across the room to grab it. I answered it before checking who was calling, “Luke? Luke?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and my heart skipped a few beats thinking it was Luke. “No… Megan? I’m sorry, this is Max.”

Max? I gasped as I looked at the clock which read ten-thirty. “Oh no, Max, I’m so sorry. I’m leaving right now. I’ll be right there.”

“Megan, take your time,” he said with obvious concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”

I took a moment to answer, probably long enough to prove that I wasn’t okay. “I’m just running late. I’ll be right there.”

After hanging up, I rushed to clean myself up and raced out the door. I made it to Max’s house in record time, and he was waiting for me at the door. I took a deep breath and told myself to hold it together since this wasn’t the right time or place to get into the dilemma that was my marriage.

He reached out for me as I walked into the room and hugged me very close. My walls were crashing down around me, as I struggled to keep control. I opened my mouth to ask him to release me, but what came out instead was a muffled scream buried deep into his argyle sweater vest. The tears came faster than I could have imagined as my body began to shake.

He moved me toward the couch and held me for a while as my frustrations continued to pour out.

Finally the crying slowed and I was able to tell Max about Luke. By the time I had finished the story of his aura shifting, his moods, and the anger that seemed to encompass him, Max and I were sitting apart but he continued to hold my hands. He said nothing and simply listened.

After I finished talking and had a better grasp on my emotions, I asked Max, “What do I do now?”

He reached up to lightly stroke my cheek and said, “Nothing.”

He smiled as if reading the confusion on my face. “That’s right, Megan, nothing. Not everything in life needs to be fixed. And even if it does, it usually can wait. Give it some time and let Luke work out whatever he is going through. It is not up to you to determine how fast he changes and grows, you just have to determine whether you want to be there to watch him go through the process.”

I scoffed. Even if his advice were right, I wanted a fix. Before I could say this, Max interrupted me.

“Megan, this one’s not your battle. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can… and the wisdom to know the difference.”

I didn’t want to feel better, but I grew up with this saying in my house since my parents were in Alcoholics Anonymous, and this phrase always gave me a “get out of jail free” feeling. A do-nothing clause for the situations in life when we are at our most hopeless. I nodded at Max, and he leaned to kiss me on the forehead.

“It’ll be okay. You’ll see.” He lifted my face to his, and the look on his face gave me hope.

“Okay Max.” Then taking a deep breath I decided to move on. “What did you want to tell me?”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he nodded his head up and down. “Tell me about your family, Megan. You have three daughters, correct?”

“Yes, why?”

Max walked over to his desk and started flipping through several papers and old leather-bound books. “Tell me about them? What are they like? Are their auras… well… white… like Luke used to be? Or like he is now?”

I felt slightly defensive at this comment about Luke’s aura and that my children, who were good to the core could have anything wrong with them. I decided to explain. “Max, my girls have auras… but they are neither white nor black. They are, in fact, gold.”

He stopped moving papers around and his head turned and his eyelids raised with a look of inquisitiveness. “I’m sorry, what color?”

“Gold,” I stated very matter-of-fact.

There were several moments of silence while he stared at me

“Are you sure? I don’t question your instinct on this, but… gold?”

“Yes, ever since they were babies each one of them has had a very distinct gold aura.”

He had a pained look on his face. “I don’t know how to explain this. I have a mathematical equation in front of me that does not add up. Wait a minute.” His voice trailed off as he rose from his desk, walked to the other side of his study, and opened a small drawer in a built-in bookshelf. After lifting up a few pages, he pulled out a single sheet of off-white paper wrapped in plastic with what looked like handwritten words on it. Studying it for a moment, he turned to me and took a deep breath before he spoke. “These are words written by another Aurator who was friends with Hippocrates.” He held up the single sheet of paper.

I gestured to show that I didn’t understand the importance.

He smiled and said, “Listen.” He read, “You need to continue to foster the future of our family, and this will be accomplished in the tri-feminine with the secondary gift.”

Max’s eyes furrowed as he stopped. “Your girls have gold auras? All of them?”

“Yes.”

Scratching his head, “I have to admit that this is a bit confusing, but there’s something here about a secondary gift. Do any of your girls show any signs of special skills?”

I paused to think about it. “No,” I said in a tentative tone, waiting for what was next.

He motioned for me to join him. We walked over to a painting hanging next to his desk. “Have you ever seen this painting before?” Max asked pointing at a reproduction of a painting I had seen many times before of Jesus as a toddler and his mother Mary. I nodded yes.

“Well, what do you notice about the painting?”

I looked at it but came up with nothing and shook my head.

After a moment, Max answered his own question. “Okay, see the halo around both Mary and Jesus?”

I nodded but still didn’t understand where he was going with this.

“What if I told you these were auras?”

That got my attention.

Now I could see it differently. Circular gold
auras
were drawn around the heads. I had never considered this possibility, but here I was, staring at a picture of Jesus with an aura—a gold one—and I wondered what it could mean.

Max began again, “Throughout history there have been many paintings of Jesus that had this halo. However… they were usually drawn by Aurators and always depicted auras. Sort of changes things, right?”

“Well, it does put a different perspective on those old paintings,” I replied

“The word halo, or
halos
in Greek means a light encircling the sun or moon. In other words, a light encircling the whole celestial body… aura.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “If Jesus was supposed to be of immaculate conception and Aurators were all men, then why did Mary also have the aura?” I was proud of my astute observation and raised one eyebrow at Max.

Max’s grin widened with what I could only guess was his amusement at my infantile question. Suddenly I wished I could take it back.

“That’s a good question. The history books do depict a woman… a virgin… getting pregnant with Jesus. So of course, how else could it have happened but by heavenly means. The truth, however, is that in those days they had no means to medically check to see if someone was a virgin. Quite frankly, even today you can get pregnant without… well… complete… um… action.”

I was surprised and mildly entertained at his sudden embarrassment. He cleared his throat and continued.

“Anyway, my belief, and the belief of all Aurators, is that Jesus was just part of a long bloodline of extraordinary people. However, he seems to have been one of the most powerful and clearly the most famous.”

Even though this idea tore apart my religious realities, things were starting to make sense. I was in the right place. The pieces were connecting for me. But what would this mean for my family?

“Hmm,” Max said. “I suppose we’re going to have to figure this Luke situation out. Give me a minute. I want to make a phone call.” He stood and went to the phone and dialed. I heard a ringing echoing in my head and realized he was calling Nicholai.

Fiddling with the spiral cord on his antique phone, Max spoke in the receiver, “Hello? Yes, it’s Max.” He explained what we had been discussing and then his voice faded out.

My mind wandered to what Max had read to me. Tri-feminine? What did that mean? My maternal instinct fired up when I thought about my daughters being dragged into this kind of madness.

Max hung up the phone and turned toward me. He was just about to speak when someone knocked on his study door. Before he could answer, the door swung open and a tall man with familiar features walked into the room. He was a good-looking man who entered with confidence.

“Hi Dad,” he said as entered the room. Then seeing me, he stopped in his tracks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were with someone. I couldn’t find Mom, so I came here.” He walked over to Max and they embraced in a hug.

“That’s okay. This is my friend Megan.” Then motioning back toward his son he made introductions. “Megan, this is my son, Bill.”

I stood to meet him as he walked toward me. Now I could see his features more clearly. Salt and pepper hair, which he must have gotten from his mother, but the face was all Max. His aura was bright white… just like his mother. We shook hands and then he turned back toward Max.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. We were in the neighborhood, and I just wanted to say hi.”

Max’s smile shone with the warmth of a proud father as he spoke to him. “No, never a problem. You’re welcome anytime. Who are you with?”

“Jeffery’s with me.”

“Jeffery?” Max exclaimed, almost giddy.

“Yes, he’s looking for Grandma to update her on his latest painting.”

Max turned toward me. “Come on, I’d like you to meet my grandson.”

We all walked out and down the long hallway that led to the kitchen. I had never been to this part of the house. I had just seen the entry and his study. We entered a kitchen that looked like it was straight out of the pages of
Architectural Digest
. The walls were covered by cabinets that were a deep mahogany and reflected the twenty or so meticulously recessed lights sprinkled across the ceiling. There were several black granite countertops that encircled a massive island containing the cooktop and a second sink. The floors looked like Italian tile with hand-painted tiles scattered throughout.

Everything was spotless and shiny and looked brand-new. Vivian was sitting at a small table in a nook next to the kitchen. She walked over to us, stretched her arms wide, and with a large smile she gave me a big hug.

I looked over at the table to the seat next to Vivian’s. My breathing stopped. I saw a handsome man in his twenties, their grandson, sitting at the chair. However, I also saw the red aura that encircled him. I took a deep breath and walked forward to greet him. He seemed to sense my odd reaction and looked back and forth at the others before shaking my hand.

We said our pleasantries and Bill began talking with his mother, so Max excused himself and shuffled us back to his study.

Back in his study he shut the door again and turned toward me. “What was that about?”

I looked at him, “What?”

“What happened when you saw my grandson?”

I suddenly wondered if Max could see his aura. “Wait a minute, what color is Jeffery’s aura to you?”

Max’s forehead wrinkled, “White.”

I shook my head, “Max, his aura was red.”

His eyes went wide with shock, “What?”

“I swear. That’s exactly what I saw. Why didn’t you?”

He sat down and stared at the floor mumbling, “I don’t understand, how can this be. I don’t see it.” Then looking up at me, “He didn’t seem to notice an aura around anyone. What if he hasn’t completed a purpose yet but because of your skills you can see his before?”

“I don’t know, Max, but I’m telling you there’s no doubt in my mind that he has a red aura.”

A smile grew on Max’s face and he said with a sense of pride, “Well, it seems I was able to pass it along. I had wondered, but no one’s aura ever changed so I figured that it wasn’t to be. He’s twenty-seven years old. I wonder if he’s getting close.”

This suddenly was a funny thought to me… Max was excited that his grandson was also going to be a killer. Odd that this should be such an acceptable desire for a family member.

Looking at me, Max added, “Well, I guess I missed the obvious when I went to his graduation from his master’s program last June. He received his master’s in nursing.”

“Ahh, smart man,” I said.

We said our good-byes and I headed home. My mind couldn’t help but wander while driving, and I began to wonder what the future would hold for Luke and me. Was I really to spend my life with someone with a dark aura? I reflected back on that first day we met and I could almost feel the warmth on my skin just as I did on that first day. A smile spread across my face. but as I pulled up to the house I could feel it slip away. I pulled next to Luke’s truck in the driveway and saw Luke sitting on the front steps.