confined
otherwise,” I said.
“Why weren’t you allowed outside except in
his presence?” Johna asked.
“I don’t know,” I insisted, pushing my hands
on the wooden table as if a secret panel would appear and give me
answers. I received nothing more than a painful sliver in my palm.
“I never understood it.”
Johna sank to the bench across from me,
resting her hands on the table to steady herself. She stared at the
table taking steady breaths. A sharp gasp from her mouth startled
me to attention. Johna lifted her eyes to mine, gazing
intently.
“Great Eloh. Could it be true? I never put
it all together,” she muttered. “It’s beginning to make sense
now.”
She stared into my eyes. “May I read you,
child?”
“Read me?” I asked. “Use your gift to hear
what I’m thinking?”
“It’s more complicated than that and only
partially related to my gift. I’m going to merge my thoughts with
yours. It will allow me to search your memory for anything you may
have forgotten but still remains.”
“Is this something any gifted person can
do?” I was still amazed at the range of abilities.
“Not all, but some. I am not the most
powerful, but I have been known to find nuggets of truth otherwise
hidden from the person who bears them.”
“Of course,” I said. “I trust you.”
I sat next to Johna on the bench staring
deeply into my mentor’s eyes. If Johna could find anything in there
that I didn’t know, then I was more than welcome to let her sort
through my mind.
Johna gripped my hands and stared into my
eyes. A few moments passed before she slowly pulled away, staring
at me in horror.
“I never suspected,” she said. “I should
have, everything considered, but I didn’t. Oh Eloh, how could I
have missed this?”
“What?” Mark and I asked in unison. Anxiety
rose from my stomach to my chest.
“You are the Prophet. The one we have been
waiting for,” she said, shaking.
I laughed, pulling my hands away from hers.
“That’s absurd. I don’t even have any gifts.”
Johna stumbled away from the table and
grabbed a book from a nearby shelf. She leafed through the pages as
I tried to steady myself. Of all the ridiculous things I’d ever
heard. To be told I was the Prophet. It was ridiculous. Insane.
Unbelievable. Me?
“Remember the story I told you and Ivy?
About the man who made the prophecy? He had rare gifts that no one
has shown until now. Until you. He too could read the clouds.” She
closed the book, leaving a finger to hold her place. Her eyes found
mine. “That is what you do, isn’t it?”
“I,” I stuttered, “I like to tell stories,
that’s all. I don’t interpret shapes like little children.”
“No, you most certainly do not,” Johna said.
“It makes sense. He wouldn’t let you outside. He only allowed you
to see out the windows in his presence when he asked you to tell
him stories. You were prophesying.”
“I was not. I just let myself get carried
away in my stories,” I insisted.
“What did you tell stories about?” Mark
asked, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know. Kings and queens, nobles,
pretty much anything that popped into my head.”
“What do you know about royalty?” he asked.
“Did you ever experience any of it outside your master’s
castle?”
“No,” I said. “I made it all up. It’s called
imagination. If I’m a prophet, why hasn’t anything happened while
I’ve been here?”
“You’ve been shut up in the house,” Johna
said. “Kept away once again from the outdoors.”
“I can look through a knothole in the
shutters.”
“A person can’t talk well if someone has
their hand around her throat,” Johna said.
“What?” I giggled. This was becoming more
ridiculous by the minute.
“You’re only seeing but a tiny slice of the
sky. It’s not enough. Let’s go to the back room,” she said,
grabbing my hand.
Mark and I followed an excited Johna across
the cottage.
Johna pushed open the door, strode across
the
otherwise,” I said.
“Why weren’t you allowed outside except in
his presence?” Johna asked.
“I don’t know,” I insisted, pushing my hands
on the wooden table as if a secret panel would appear and give me
answers. I received nothing more than a painful sliver in my palm.
“I never understood it.”
Johna sank to the bench across from me,
resting her hands on the table to steady herself. She stared at the
table taking steady breaths. A sharp gasp from her mouth startled
me to attention. Johna lifted her eyes to mine, gazing
intently.
“Great Eloh. Could it be true? I never put
it all together,” she muttered. “It’s beginning to make sense
now.”
She stared into my eyes. “May I read you,
child?”
“Read me?” I asked. “Use your gift to hear
what I’m thinking?”
“It’s more complicated than that and only
partially related to my gift. I’m going to merge my thoughts with
yours. It will allow me to search your memory for anything you may
have forgotten but still remains.”
“Is this something any gifted person can
do?” I was still amazed at the range of abilities.
“Not all, but some. I am not the most
powerful, but I have been known to find nuggets of truth otherwise
hidden from the person who bears them.”
“Of course,” I said. “I trust you.”
I sat next to Johna on the bench staring
deeply into my mentor’s eyes. If Johna could find anything in there
that I didn’t know, then I was more than welcome to let her sort
through my mind.
Johna gripped my hands and stared into my
eyes. A few moments passed before she slowly pulled away, staring
at me in horror.
“I never suspected,” she said. “I should
have, everything considered, but I didn’t. Oh Eloh, how could I
have missed this?”
“What?” Mark and I asked in unison. Anxiety
rose from my stomach to my chest.
“You are the Prophet. The one we have been
waiting for,” she said, shaking.
I laughed, pulling my hands away from hers.
“That’s absurd. I don’t even have any gifts.”
Johna stumbled away from the table and
grabbed a book from a nearby shelf. She leafed through the pages as
I tried to steady myself. Of all the ridiculous things I’d ever
heard. To be told I was the Prophet. It was ridiculous. Insane.
Unbelievable. Me?
“Remember the story I told you and Ivy?
About the man who made the prophecy? He had rare gifts that no one
has shown until now. Until you. He too could read the clouds.” She
closed the book, leaving a finger to hold her place. Her eyes found
mine. “That is what you do, isn’t it?”
“I,” I stuttered, “I like to tell stories,
that’s all. I don’t interpret shapes like little children.”
“No, you most certainly do not,” Johna said.
“It makes sense. He wouldn’t let you outside. He only allowed you
to see out the windows in his presence when he asked you to tell
him stories. You were prophesying.”
“I was not. I just let myself get carried
away in my stories,” I insisted.
“What did you tell stories about?” Mark
asked, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know. Kings and queens, nobles,
pretty much anything that popped into my head.”
“What do you know about royalty?” he asked.
“Did you ever experience any of it outside your master’s
castle?”
“No,” I said. “I made it all up. It’s called
imagination. If I’m a prophet, why hasn’t anything happened while
I’ve been here?”
“You’ve been shut up in the house,” Johna
said. “Kept away once again from the outdoors.”
“I can look through a knothole in the
shutters.”
“A person can’t talk well if someone has
their hand around her throat,” Johna said.
“What?” I giggled. This was becoming more
ridiculous by the minute.
“You’re only seeing but a tiny slice of the
sky. It’s not enough. Let’s go to the back room,” she said,
grabbing my hand.
Mark and I followed an excited Johna across
the cottage.
Johna pushed open the door, strode across
the
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