felt himself drifting, drifting away from this table, this conversation, this confession.
Suddenly, softly, Jim,s voice brought him back.
"This is an exceptional place, this," Jim said. "Ah, but what a price you,ve paid for it."
"Don,t I know?" Reuben pressed his lips together in a bitter smile.
He put his hands together in an attitude of prayer and began the Act of Contrition: " ,O my God I am heartily sorry, ... heartily sorry, I am; with all my heart, I swear it, I am heartily sorry; please show me the way. God, please show me what I am, what manner of thing I am. Please give me the strength, against all temptation, to do no harm to anyone, somehow to do no harm, but to be a force for love in Your Name."
He meant these prayers, but he did not deeply feel them. He had a sense of the world around him, insofar as he could grasp it, and of the tiny speck that was the planet Earth, spinning in the galaxy of the Milky Way, and of how tiny was that galaxy in the vast far-flung universe beyond human grasp. He had the sinking feeling that he was speaking not to God but to Jim, and for Jim. But hadn,t he spoken to God in another way last night? Wasn,t he speaking to God in his own way when he looked out there at the living, striving forest and he felt in all his parts that that striving of all living things was a form of prayer?
The silence was filled by sadness. They were united in sadness. Reuben said, "Do you think Teilhard de Chardin could have been right? That we fear that God does not exist because we can,t spatially grasp the immensity of the universe; we fear that personality is lost in it when maybe it is a superpersonality that holds it all together, a superconscious God who planted evolving consciousness in each of us - ." He broke off. He,d never really been good at abstract theology or philosophy. He hungered for theories he could understand and repeat when he needed to repeat them, in which every single thing everywhere in the seemingly hopeless reaches of space had a meaning and a destiny - even Reuben himself.
"Reuben," Jim answered, "when you take the life of a single sentient being, innocent or guilty, you go against that great redeeming power, whatever it is, however it might be described - you annihilate its mystery and its force."
"Yes," said Reuben. He kept his eyes on the oaks that were fading into shadow as he watched. "I know that,s what you believe, Jim. But it doesn,t feel that way when I,m the Morphenkind. It feels like something else."
Chapter Twenty-Four
REUBEN HAD PUT the lamb shanks on for supper before he,d ever gone out in the woods. The meat and vegetables were simmering in the Crock-Pot all afternoon.
After Laura made a particularly luscious salad, of lettuce, tomato, and avocado tossed in the most delicate olive oil with herbs, they sat down to dinner in the breakfast room and Reuben, as usual, devoured everything in sight while Jim touched a little of this and a little of that.
Laura had put on what Reuben thought was an old-fashioned dress. It was made of yellow-and-white-checkered cotton and had sleeves with carefully sewn cuffs and white floral buttons. Her hair was loose and shining. And she smiled spontaneously at Jim when she drew him into conversation about the church and his work.
Conversation between them became easy; they talked about Muir Woods and Laura,s research on the "understory" there, that is, the floor of the forest and how to prevent it from being destroyed by the constant foot traffic of the thousands of people who, understandably enough, wanted to see the unbelievable beauty of the redwoods for themselves.
Laura spoke not at all of her past, and Reuben certainly didn,t feel he had the right to move the conversation into the dark waters, and Jim spoke with enthusiasm about the St. Francis dining room and the number of Thanksgiving meals they hoped to serve this year.
In the past, Reuben had always helped serve on Thanksgiving at St. Francis, and so had Phil and Celeste and even Grace when she could.
A heavy gloom fell over Reuben. He would not be there this year, he sensed it. And he would not be home for Thanksgiving either, when the family gathered at 7:00 p.m. for the traditional meal.