Authors: Annie Wald
When Celeste realized he was staring at her, she stopped and blushed.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “It looks like you are curving in and out instead of walking a straight line.”
Celeste hesitated. She had been mocked by other travelers for her habit of kicking pebbles, but something in Peter’s voice made her feel at ease. “I know, I can’t help it. Well, I suppose I could help it, but I’d rather not. I like to kick pebbles as I walk. I know it’s silly but that’s the way I am.”
When Peter said nothing, Celeste began to feel uncomfortable. “I’m sorry if it bothers you.” She started to walk away.
“No, wait. I am not irritated. I’m just amazed.”
“Amazed?”
“Yes, I do the same thing when I am walking by myself.”
“Don’t make fun of me.” Celeste turned red again.
“No, I am telling the truth. Look, here are my pebbles. I’ve collected some nice ones along the way.” He dug into his pocket and took out a handful. He threw the biggest pebble onto the ground and, with the tip of his right shoe, made it skitter across the dirt. Then his left foot stopped it and kicked it ahead to his right foot. “Let’s see you do it.”
Celeste had no rhyme or reason to the way she kicked pebbles, and she didn’t want him to laugh at her. “No, I don’t feel like it.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I liked the way you were kicking.”
Celeste looked at his kind expression. She had never met a person who was so reassuring. “Really?”
“Really. I won’t laugh.”
She kicked her pebble along, then Peter came beside her, kicking his. On they walked, kicking their pebbles while they hunted for berries. Once when her stone went off into the grass, Peter raced for it and started to kick both his stone and hers at the same time, making her burst out laughing as he twisted around like a top. When they got back to the grove, Peter told Celeste how much he had enjoyed their time.
“So did I,” Celeste said.
“I was wondering,” he said, “would you like to walk with me tomorrow?”
“I’d love to.”
The next afternoon they went with a group who were exploring the paths that wandered in and out of the grove. Peter and Celeste quickly discovered they not only enjoyed kicking pebbles,
but they also liked to identify flowers they saw in the woods. They found spearmint and Jack-in-the-Pulpit, lady slippers and violets, and Queen Anne’s Lace. As they walked, they talked and talked. Neither had imagined they would ever have so much to talk about with another person—or be so eager to listen. When they returned to the grove, Peter again asked Celeste if she would walk with him the next day.
“Of course,” she said.
Before she went to bed that night, she got her pack and took out the collection of postcards she had brought with her. These postcards were not like the ones people buy on vacation to remind them of all the places they visited. These postcards were larger and much more brilliant, each with a scene that revealed a person’s deepest yearnings. They were so vivid that if Celeste looked at one long enough, say of a young woman enjoying a honeysuckle flower, she could almost smell the fragrance and imagine that if she reached out she could feel the soft petal and pull out the pistil and taste a drop of sweetness.
One card showed a man and a woman holding hands as they walked in a lush meadow of flowers. Another showed a couple surfing on the waves in front of an expanse of golden sand. There was not a single flaw in her postcards. In card after card, there was not a single flaw to be seen.
When Celeste started on the King’s way, some travelers warned her to leave her postcards behind because the desires in them might lead her away from the King; His gifts were always better than what she could imagine. But Celeste cherished her visions of beauty and tenderness and adventure. She didn’t see
what was wrong about thinking of a sailboat on a turquoise sea or drinking from a jeweled chalice filled with the sweetest pleasures of earthly love or strolling through a garden of roses. Celeste was convinced that if the King loved her, He would give her the desire that was represented in each scene.
After she took out her postcards, she sorted through them until she found her favorite, the vision of romantic love. The scene showed a couple gazing at each other with a gauzy veil between them. Celeste tilted the card to one side. Then a light came down on the couple and the veil came up so they could see each other face-to-face, filled with adoring love until it seemed they were fused into a single being. She stared at the card a long time, imagining the deep oneness of being chosen and loved. Finally she put all her cards away and fell asleep, dreaming of Peter.
In the days that followed at the grove, Peter and Celeste continued spending time together. They meandered while they kicked their pebbles, and they talked about the different flowers they saw alongside the road. Celeste taught Peter duets, and Peter showed Celeste how to climb rock trails. Soon Peter asked Celeste to sit at his table for breakfast. When it was time for a guide to give the morning talk, they always found seats together. Every time Peter took a turn chopping wood and came back tired, Celeste would put warm cloths on his arms to soothe his muscles. Some days Celeste was in charge of singing, then Peter would sit in the front row and watch her with pride. When Celeste was alone with her friends, she couldn’t stop talking about Peter—how solid and dependable he was, how knowledgeable and diligent and eager to serve the King.
But the best time each day was when they could go walking
together. They told each other stories about their families and growing up and how they first heard about the King. They found they agreed on almost everything, and the things they didn’t, they simply put to one side. When they tired of talking, they kicked pebbles, and when they grew tired of that, they made up songs. Their time together seemed like water flowing down a stream. Just as it was impossible to think of the water flowing in the opposite direction, neither Peter nor Celeste could imagine doing anything but walking and talking together.
Before long they were going into the Meadows of Intimacy to share their deepest secrets. Sometimes they stopped and looked into each other’s eyes, and Celeste thought of the couple in her favorite postcard. As she looked at Peter, she felt she was melting into a deep pool, yet at the same time she felt she was being filled.
One week, then another, rushed by. One night Peter stayed up late by the campfire, unable to sleep, poking the coals with a stick. In a few more weeks it would be time to take up his journey again, but he didn’t want to leave Celeste. He loved the way she laughed with lightness, how beautifully she sang, and how she could talk with the shyest person. He felt so happy when they walked together, always relaxed and not worrying what she thought. He remembered how she looked at him with admiration when he had skipped a stone across a small pond they discovered. He thought of how much fun they had kicking pebbles together.
The next day, Peter and Celeste volunteered to help collect more berries. They walked through the higher meadow, plinking the berries into their buckets until they came to an overgrown field and sat on a log.
“I could do this forever,” Peter said.
“Me, too,” Celeste said. “I never get tired of walking in the meadows.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I never get tired of walking with you.”
“Oh.” She smiled. “It’s the same for me.”
Peter took Celeste’s hand and looked into her eyes.
“Will you be my partner? Will you walk with me until we reach the King’s City?”
Celeste blushed and took a deep breath. Her vision of romance was finally becoming real; she was chosen and loved by the perfect partner. “Yes,” she said. “A hundred yeses. Yes.”
As soon as Peter and Celeste returned to the grove, they began to prepare for their weaving day and send-off party. There were decorations to get, music to find, food to order. When Peter started to tally all the expenses, he suggested they skip the send-off party and just have only a small, private dinner. But Celeste said that was impossible. All her relatives from Slouching City were coming. And besides, she had always wanted to have a fancy send-off celebration.
One day they took a break from their planning and visited a guide named Devotion so they could pick out their Cords of Commitment. When they became partners forever, three strands would be woven around their wrists to make a single bracelet. The first strand represented the strengths they brought to their partnership and the things they shared in common. The second strand
symbolized the love that would bind them forever and their willingness to lay down their lives for each other. The last strand stood for the promise they would make to never let go but stay with each other to the very end. Even if the first two strands became frayed, nothing could rip the third strand apart.
There were so many patterns and materials and colors that it took Peter and Celeste a long time to make their decision. They finally chose a royal blue silk for the first strand and a soft, red sheep’s wool for the second. For the third, they chose a durable, thick gold.
“This is so exciting,” Celeste said as Devotion measured their wrists.
“It is,” Devotion said. “But never forget that this braided bracelet is not just something pretty to wear. Your cords will be extremely sensitive to the state of your partnership. They will match the invisible threads that will intertwine through your hearts when you become one. Once the cords are on your wrists, they will cause painful wounds if they are ever cut off. So I trust you have considered well your decision to become partners.”
“We’re absolutely sure.” Peter looked at Celeste with a loving smile.
Celeste smiled back. “There is no one else I want for a partner but Peter.”
“I have seen many who became partners while they were still traveling in the Low Country,” Devotion said. “But when they set out for the Mountains of Maturity, as everyone must, they came to challenging routes they never knew existed. Soon the excitement of being partners disappeared, and they discovered
their partner had flaws and limitations they had never seen before. Their cords began to chafe, and sometimes in desperation they wished to take them off.”
“You don’t have to worry about us doing that,” Celeste said.
“We agree with the guidebook,” Peter said. “Anyone who cuts the cords, except for unfaithfulness, and joins with another partner breaks the King’s rule.”
“That is a good start, but I still want to caution you. You will be traveling together longer than you have already lived, and on a path harder than you have ever walked. You may suffer burrs of unkind words. You may go through the Swamp of Selfishness, the Plains of Distance, or even the Way of Winter. You may doubt that your partner really is the right one for you. You may begin to feel like a prisoner, and your braided cords will feel like handcuffs.”
“You make it sound so gloomy!” Celeste said. “Don’t you have any encouragement for us?”
Devotion chuckled. “You’re right. Although there is no partnership in the King’s City, He created the first partners in the Great Garden. Having a partner can double your joys and divide your griefs. You will lose some freedom walking together, but you will also gain many benefits. You will share the greater strength of two halves made into one whole. You will find pleasant paths and warm mineral springs. When you experience the glory of drinking from the chalice together, you will find your most intimate desires satisfied. You may be blessed with the joy of little travelers—and with them will come many new ways to show how much you love each other.
“Whatever comes,” Devotion continued, “your love can protect
you and help you to persevere. I’m sorry if I sounded too pessimistic. These days so many partners are separating and cutting their cords.” He went to a cabinet and took out two pairs of scissors.
The young travelers shrank away. “We don’t want those,” Peter said.
“We will never need them,” Celeste said.
Devotion rolled up each pair of scissors in a thick cloth. “I’ll put them in the bottoms of your packs. You will do well to leave them there.”
“But do we have to take them at all?” Celeste said.
“Remember the King has set you free. You are no longer slaves. You always have the choice to do good or to do harm, even when you take on a partner.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if there weren’t any scissors?”
“There have been times when scissors have been hard to find, but the scissors are not the real problem. The King intended partnership to make you stronger—and to make you shine more brightly together than alone. But to do this you must love each other with a deep, selfless love. Many partners who have not cut their cords believe they are still following the King’s way, but their partnership is only an empty shell of the King’s design. It’s only a duty for them, or worse, a prison. So don’t be fooled into thinking that if you wear your cords with a cold heart, you are fulfilling the law of love.”
Finally the day came for Peter and Celeste to be joined. The sky was crisp and blue, as beautiful as any postcard. Celeste trembled as she put on her white dress. She felt like a princess, and her mother said she had never looked more lovely. Peter wore a new suit, and his mother began crying when she saw him in it. She said
it seemed only yesterday when he had been a little boy and refused to wear one.