the Oracle.”
“It signified the place of my dwelling.”
“This mountain.”
“Whatever mountain, wherever I dwell.”
“And the seven doors?”
“The mystery has seven parts, seven streams. Each door will open up one of them.”
“But the key I was given couldn’t open them.”
“You were meant to open them,” said the Oracle, “but you would need help.”
“So I was told to find the owner of the house. I was told to find you. And here I am. Now what?”
“Do you mean do I have more to tell you?”
“Yes.”
“No. It must come from you.”
“But I don’t have anything else.”
“If it’s meant for you to be here, then you will. It all began with a vision. There are seven doors. I would suspect there are more visions for you to see.”
“So what do I do now?”
“What did you do before the vision came to you?”
“Nothing.”
“So that’s what you do now. You’ve come this far. You just need to stay open . . . ”
“Until how long?”
“Until the time.”
THE FIRST DOOR
Chapter 5
THE FIRST DOOR
SO WHAT DID you do?”
“I went back to my tent. In the days that followed, I pondered the Oracle’s words. I still had no idea what it was all about. And yet the vision had led me to the Oracle. In at least that much it had proved true. The Oracle was real. Beyond that, I could only imagine where it was all going. So I’m in the middle of a desert with no idea what was to happen next. . . and then it did.”
“What happened?”
“I was in my tent. It was night. Outside the wind was howling and beating against the tent curtains. I was afraid at one point that the wooden frame wouldn’t hold out. And while I could still see the shaking of the tent curtains, the sound of the wind and the flapping of the curtains began subsiding.”
“The wind was lessening.”
“No, just the sound of it, until it faded to silence, as when I saw the first vision. I was about to see another. The tent disappeared. I found myself back in the Hall of the Seven Doors.”
“Where the last vision left off.”
“Yes. I was standing in front of the first door but now aware of a presence to my right. I never turned to look, but I knew intuitively that it wasn’t the man I saw in the first vision. It was the Oracle. He placed a key in my right hand. The key I had been given in the other vision was gone. I inserted it into the lock, and it turned. The door opened. What was behind the door was almost blinding until my eyes adjusted to it . . . the light of a midday sun on a desert landscape. Only after I stepped through the door could I make out what it was.
“I found myself on top of a high mountain overlooking the vast expanse of a desert plain. The plain was filled with multitudes of people, hundreds of thousands of them, maybe more, all dressed in ancient garments. Everyone was looking up to the mountaintop on which I stood. But they weren’t looking at me. As far as I know, I was invisible to them. They were looking at an ancient figure who stood in front of me. He had white hair and a flowing white beard and was clothed in a dark red robe. In his arms was a scroll.”
“What kind of scroll?”
“The kind I would associate with the Jewish people . . . a parchment covered with writing and wound around two wooden rollers. The man walked over to what looked like some sort of natural lectern formed out of the mountain rock, on which he laid the scroll and rolled it to the section he was looking for. One of the two rolls was now almost completely unrolled. It was either at its beginning or its end.
“The old man lifted up his arms and began chanting the words of the parchment that was spread out before him. The language was foreign, and the melody sounded ancient. As he sang, a transformation began. The sky began to darken. Then the appearance of the people in the plain began changing. Most were now dressed in the garments of varied ages and lands. Some were still dressed in robes as from ancient times, but others were now in medieval dress, some in black jackets and hats; others were wearing the clothes of more modern times, overcoats, dresses, and caps. Nearly all of them had some