Gentle Correspondents,
I do hope that nobody gets overly annoyed by seeing this twice, if they
_do_ see
it twice. As you may know, I have posted nothing since the last part of
December, and
the question is: why?
Well the answer is simple. My dad is a stubborn man.
On Monday, 22 Febuary, he was admitted to a hospital here in Atlanta,
suffering
from a combination of Congestive Heart Failure, Diabetes, Pulmonary and
other Edema,
and what looked, to this untutored eye, like a moderately amusing case of
Walking
Pneumonia. In addition to other complications arising from a period of whipsaw
Hypokalemia / Hyperkalemia lasting more than a week.
He has been fighting this combination since slightly before Christmass,
and I
assure you that had there been even one less condition than there was, that he
would not be in the hospital even yet.
As I say, a stubborn man. Also, I love him dearly, as you can now, by no
doubt,
tell. Fortunately, I am even stubborner, although such a struggle must
needs be
extremely protracted. And also, as should need no emphasis, I have had
little time
or energy to write fanfic.
As of today, the enforced rest seems to be doing him good, and he is
expected to
leave the hospital in four or five days. This should give me the chance to
finish RAALS
5A, an event that I have been looking towards with as much fervor as any
other.
In anticipation of that happy event, and in thanks for your patience, I
have
enclosed a small teaser of RAALS 5A, which I hope will give you
satisfaction for the
next day or so.
With great sincerity, I remain:
Your very humble and Obediant Servant, Eric Hallstrom
When I was a King and a Mason -- in the open noon of my pride,
They sent me a Word from the Darkness. They whispered and called me aside.
They said -- "The end is forbidden." They said -- "Thy use is fulfilled.
"Thy Palace shall stand as that other's -- the spoil of a King who shall
build."
I called my men from my trenches, my quarries, my wharves, and my sheers.
All I had wrought I abandoned to the faith of the faithless years.
Only I cut on the timber -- only I carved on the stone:
"After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known!"
-Rudyard Kipling, _The Palace_
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Akane's room was dark and still in night's embrace. Akane, however, was
not. Shadowy dreams of loss and pain lurked just beyond the border of the
waking world, and a pit of darkness vast enough to suck her down forever
awaited her least little lowering of defense. This she knew. What she did
not know was how to fight the encroaching dark. If she could only find
a target, something to hit with her fist or her sword. If it were only an
external threat that she could face head on. If it were only an obvious
weakness, something even in herself, but something she could come to
grips with. But what could she do with dreams in the dark?
Lost in her silent, failing struggle, she did not hear the quiet opening
of the door, nor did she note the form that ghosted across her room until
it actually sat upon her bed; and by then, of course, it was too late.
Ranma had already heard her faint whimper, already seen her toss and turn.
Numbly she turned her head to look at Ranma, and was again surprised by
the serene concern in her friend's sapphire eyes.
In some sense, Akane had always lived her life in a continual state of
insecurity, always convinced that the next day, the next challenge would
prove her painfully gathered skills inadequate, would leave her bereft and
lacking in worth. It was not that she did not appreciate her own skills
as a martial artist; indeed, in some ways those skills were themselves the
source of the problem. She was good at martial arts, but, she felt, _only_
at martial arts.
For all of her girlhood, Kasumi had been the perfect female figure.
When their mother had died, she had stepped into the role of alpha female
with barely a hitch. Nabiki had become skilled in manipulation, using
her mind and her skills at sneakiness to get things accomplished; for the
benefit of the Dojo itself, mostly, it was true. Denied primacy in these
areas, Akane had specialized in the Art, taking up the family school that
neither of her sisters had expressed an interest in, and in that pursuit
she had established a primacy of her own.
What she had not established was that her primacy was real. Always, in
the back of her mind, came the thought that her sisters had _allowed_ her
that primacy, because it did not matter. That no-one contested her in it,
because no-one cared. That all that her effort had bought her was ...
nothing. In the bright light of day she could look around herself and
see her strengths. In the light it looked like she had made of herself
a warrior who could overcome any challenge she attempted. In the light
it looked like the paths she had turned aside from offered little in the
way of real challenge. In the light it looked as though _she_ had taken
the harder path, the path of greatest growth, and that the necessary
parts (Oh, not _all_ the parts, no. But you don't need _all_ the parts
to get by.) of the others would be ... easy. Mostly. In the light.
But things do have a tendancy to look differently in the dark. And if
you were lying on your back looking up at the ceiling, and if you were
somehow to relax the guards you normally hold that keep you from thinking
unpleasant thoughts like that, then, having thought one unpleasantness
, you might go on to think others. You might begin to think that the
path that you had chosen, far from being the path of greatest growth,
was instead the path of least result. You might begin to think that you
had traded the ability to make cookies for the ability to nearly get the
woman you have just realized you love killed.
Or, you might begin to question just how much all this practice you
have been doing in your chosen field has actually bought you. You might
begin to compare the things you had learned on your own to the things
that, let's say, Someone had taught you, and conclude that you had learned
nothing of value yourself at all. You might begin to think that you were
... lesser, second rate. And you might begin to wonder what use you,
yourself, actually were. A second rater moreover, you might begin to
think, who has had the great idiocy to fall for a first rater in the same
field.
And you might begin to wonder just what use there is in saying, for
example, "Ranma and Akane". "Ranma and Kasumi", you might think, makes some
sense; "Kasumi" can cook ... and clean ... and ... and be Kasumi. "Ranma
and Nabiki" allows "Nabiki" to be sneaky and make money. But if all "Akane"
is good for is fighting, and if "Ranma" already has the fighting part
of "Ranma and Akane" covered, then what use in "Ranma and Akane" is ...
"Akane"? And if "Ranma and Akane" is a thing that you are coming to
believe is the thing that makes being "Akane" worthwhile, but there is no
use in "Ranma and Akane" for "Akane", then what use _is_ "Akane"? Or ...
_is_ there any use for "Akane" ... at all?
And these are the sorts of thoughts that have a tendancy to cause theor
thinkers Deep Distress, and, on that count, to be relegated to the far
background and never allowed out into the conscious portion of the brain.
And this in itself can cause certain problems.
For instance, when confronted with the aforesaid "Someone first rate
in the same field", and the occasion to meditate on silken scarlet hair
and sea-deep sapphire eyes, and the opportunity to ask the question "Is
there room in 'Ranma and Akane' for 'Akane'? Or, indeed, is there any
reason to entertain the concept of 'Ranma and Akane' at all?", then
thoughts like these might cause you to wimp out. And, for another
instance, even if you _are_ the "Someone, etc." and even if you _know_ that
there is indeed very good reason to entertain the concept of "Ranma and
Akane",
and furthermore what role "Akane" should play in it, it does not necessarily
follow that you _also_ know whether there is any reason to consider the
concept of "Akane and Ranma". And in this case similar thoughts can not
only cause you to wimp out, but also to pay less attention to subtleties
of interpersonal conversation than might otherwise be the case.
To summarize the summary of the summary: people are a problem.
And this goes a long way towards explaining why, when Ranma said,
"Problems?" Akane did _not_ say, "Yes! I'm tired, I'm sick, I hurt and I'm
so confused and overwhelmed that I can't think. I need to bury my face in
your hair for several years to clear my head. Make love to me 'til I pass
out!" but rather (in a much smaller voice), "Can't think. Too much."
And why Ranma did not hear what she meant, but only what she said.
And also why, when Ranma knelt on the bed and drew Akane up into a
reverse embrace, so that Akane was sitting in front of Ranma with Ranma's
arms folded beneath her breasts and the top of her head beneath Ranma's
chin, and said, "Maybe I can teach you a technique to help. Do you
trust me?" Akane just said "Yes," instead of "With my honor, my life and
my soul. And, incidentally, if you wanted to move your hands up a bit I'd
be perfectly happy to trust you with my body, too." And Ranma, of course,
missed that, as well.
Even world class martial artists, gifted with the perception to track
another person's motives and intentions in the heat of mortal combat
have their occaisonal off days. Which is a shame, it's true. But it just
isn't time for this story to go lemon yet.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay, Acchan," Ranma murmured, "this is called 'the Rainbow', because
the way you begin requires you to picture one in your mind. What I am
going to ask you to do is to close your eyes, and then to impress upon
yourself a vision of each of the colors of the rainbow, one by one. As
you visualize each color, you will attach to it all of your tensions,
unhappiness or pain and imbalance in a specific area. Then, when you
release the visualization of the color, you will also release all the
negative chi that you have just collected.
"The order and rythm of the colors will allow you to completely rid
yourself of negative energy and to achieve a focussed and receptive
mental state. Then, when you have passed through all the colors, you will
find yourself standing on a darkened landscape, where you will encounter
a stairway leading down.
"If you choose to descend the stairway, you will then encounter a
well-built, solid door, to which, you will find, you hold the only key.
Behind the door, if you choose to open it, you will find your Library, or
Study, the metaphorical center of your intellect.
"This technique employs a mixture of focused meditation and self-
hypnosis, and I repeat that you may _choose_ to descend the stairway,
and you may _choose_ to open the door to impress upon you that it is
_your_ door and _your_ stairway, and that _you_ may and must decide when,
and whether, to proceed in each and every case. I will be here to guard
you, this first time, and I will show you the way, but it is your will
that must impel events. If you decide to reverse the exercise, all you
need do, _at any time_, is open your eyes. Okay?"
Akane nodded, silently.
"Then begin with the first color of the rainbow," Ranma said, quietly,
"think about red, soft, warm red ..." Ranma kept her voice in a soothing,
lulling murmur, just loud enough to hear at close range, and began to
enter into the rythms and pauses of a hieratic chant.
"All there is is red ... red is the color of physical relaxation ...
let the red fill every corner of your body, let it pick up all the pain
and fatigue and tension and then let it flow away ... red flows away and
is followed by orange ..."
Ranma's low contralto voice flowed over Akane's weary mind and soothed
her deeper and deeper into a trance state, taking her through the colors
of the rainbow, and also through all the stages of release of care and
tension, "... violet is the color of union with the Tao, the Tao is
everything and nothing, become part of the color and let the color become
part of you ... drift down with the color as it gets darker and darker
... closer and closer to the dark ... less and less color ... less and
less of everything ... everything going away until you are alone with
yourself and the Tao ... don't be afraid ... I'll be just out here ...
nothing will get by me to harm you ... tell me when you are ready to go on."
Akane seemed to drift down, through a slowly fading violet haze, down
to a gentle landing on her feet. All around her she sensed a darkened,
empty plain stretching far away. Though in looking around she could not
see any sign of Ranma, her presense still nestled close about her, warm
and comforting. "Okay," she said, "now what?"
"Turn around," Ranma replied, "Do you see the stairway?"
"Uh-huh. Should I go down?"
"Whenever you're ready."
Akane slowly walked down the stairway, feeling very secure, as though
she were following an old, familiar pathway, to a well-beloved destination.
At the bottom of the stairs, she came to a small landing, seemingly cut
out of the living rock. It was filled with a sourceless illumination, and
could be exited in only two ways: the stairway up, and a large, forbidding
door made of iron-banded oak. The door did not open to a touch, and the
keyhole exuded a definite impression of unpickability. "Ranchan? I'm
at the bottom, but I can't get the door open."
"Look in your pocket. You're carrying the key."
"I don't remember any key that looked like that ... hey! You're right
Ranchan!" Akane unlocked the door, and opened it upon wonder. "Ranchan!
It's a library alright! Wow! There must be _millions_ of books and things,
there's Mangas all over the place, all my favorites ..." Ranma assumed a
pained look, "... the paintings on the walls, they're beautiful ...
Kamis! Look at that desk! Thing's big enough for planes to land on ...
ooohh! Nice, comfy chair too! Ahhh! This is really nice, Ranchan. Are
you sure it's mine?"
"All yours, Acchan," Ranma chirped, "Let me give you a present?"
"Ummm, sure. What is it?"
"Look on the desk, it may be under something. It's a small book,
leather binding, thin pages ...."
"I see it! Ranchan! It's really expensive .... are you sure you can
afford to give it to _me_?"
"Trust me. Now if you open the book, you will see that I've written
a word on the first several pages, right? The first page says 'Akane',
the second says 'study', the third says 'focus', the fourth says 'sleep',
the fifth says 'dream' and the sixth says 'return' right? And the rest
are blank."
"Yep. So?"
"So if you pick up the book and concentrate on 'Akane' you will then
concentrate on who you are and why. This will let you more fully integrate
new skills and experiances into your tao. Likewise 'study' will focus
your subconcious on making sense whatever the last things you have just
learned are, 'focus' will let you concentrate on one specific thing that
you are thinking of, 'sleep' will let you do just that, 'dream' will
give you the ability to direct and explore your dreams, and 'return' will
bring you back. You can do more than one thing at once, and if you open
your eyes without concentrating on 'return' part of you will keep, for
instance, studying everything you have been learning that day; even while
you are alseep, or eating dinner, or whatever."
"Gotcha. Pretty cool."
"Glad you like it. Now concentrate on 'return' ...."
Akane opened her eyes and looked around, blinking. She noticed that Ranma
had somehow moved from behind her, holding her up, to sitting on the foot
of the bed. 'Awwwww.' "Ohayo, Ranchan, what now?"
"Do me a favor."
"Okay."
"Go back under and hit 'Akane' and 'sleep'. I'll see you in the morning."
"Spoilsport."
"Slacker."
Akane stretched and yawned, laying back into her covers before Ranma's
folded arms stance as colors whirled around her. Soon, the beautiful
walls of her Library opened around her. Walking over to her desk she picked
up the book Ranma had given her and thumbed through it. For a few moments
she stopped on the first blank page and stared at it intensely, then
she picked a fine quill pen off the desk and dipped it in the ink sitting
in the small inkstone. Poising the pen over the page she used the best
calligraphy she could muster to write the word 'Ranma' on it.
Holding the book open in her hands, she sank down into the chair and
got comfortable. Then she focused her will on the pages 'Ranma', 'Akane',
'sleep' and 'dream'. On the last word she closed the book and put it
down on the desk, letting her arms out wide in an enormous stretch and
cracking all her vertebrae, before settling backwards to go to sleep.
Outside the library, Ranma looked down fondly on Akane's sleeping
form and ghosted out the door and back to the guest room.
And had there been anyone around that night who was able to see the
rising ghosts of dreams on the night air, that someone might have spied
the columns of such rising strongly and fully from two seperate rooms
of the big old house, remarked on how similar to each other they were,
and been astonished. But there wasn't, and so, no-one did.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
--
"12:00 AM, January 1, 2000 AD: The wrong hour on an arbitrary day a year
early of celebrating the 2000th anniversary of a date specified over 500
years later based upon an incorrect calculation." --Greg Friedman
-Eric Hallstrom
Eric Hallstrom
hallcon@mindspring.com