Miss Buddha (36 page)

“What do you mean?”

“To not disbelieve is not the same thing as
believe.”

Good point. “Let me put it
this way then: I don’t
know
that she was the Buddha, but I believe her when
she says that she was.”

Yes, this she could see, for she nodded
again. Then she said:

“What should we do?”

“I’ve thought about that. I think we should
do two things: Keep an air tight lid on who she is, and assist her
in any way we can.”

“It’s clear what you can do to help her, but
what do you think I can do?” wondered Kristina.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her.”

“I think I will do just that,” she
answered.

::
80 :: (Pasadena)

The strategy agreed upon that morning among
Melissa and Ruth Marten, Ananda Wolf, and Julian Lawson was that
Ruth would have to be at least sixteen years old to even vaguely be
taken seriously, whatever message she would deliver to the
world.

Melissa and Ananda would have preferred that
she does nothing of any sort until she is eighteen, but Ruth
strenuously objected. They looked to Julian to mediate. He had seen
sixteen-year-old geniuses, had in fact been one himself, come to
think of it.

“See?” said Ruth, turning pointedly to
Ananda and her mother.

“Is that right?” said Ananda.

Julian explained that he was accepted at Cal
Tech at that age for his exceptional aptitude for science.

“Maybe it’s easier to be accepted young in
that field, as a scientist,” suggested Melissa.

“That’s the field I’m entering,” Ruth
pointed out.

Which Melissa realized, yes, of course,
that’s true.

So, for the next five years or so, Ruth
would have to cool her heels, and prepare.

“Five years,” said Ruth. Not in protest,
more as a sigh.

“You can help me in my research,” said
Julian. “I’ll make you my research assistant.”

“You can do that?” asked Ananda.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Five more years,” said Ruth again.

No one answered her this time.

::
81 :: (Pasadena)

“Ruth,” said Kristina after the final bell.
“Would you mind staying a while.” Someone, she didn’t catch who,
giggled one of those look-who’s-in-trouble giggles in Ruth’s
direction. If Ruth noticed, she didn’t show it.

“Sure,” she said.

Once the classroom had emptied, Kristina
walked over to Ruth’s desk and pulled out a chair—to small,
really—and sat down.

“Julian told me,” she said.

“I know,” said Ruth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had promised Melissa and
Ananda not to tell
any
one.”

“But you told Julian.”

“I couldn’t help it.”

“You are the Buddha?”

“I was the Buddha.”

“And you have returned?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Why?”

“Why? Take a look at the world, Kristina.
That’s why.”

She blushed at her own stupidity. “I’m
sorry, Ruth.”

“No need.” Then said, “I had hoped that by
now the Dhamma would have spread and taken good root everywhere and
that the world would now manage on its own. But what I
saw—especially when I returned as Bruno—proved otherwise.”

“You were Bruno?”

“Yes, Kristina.”

“I should have known.”

“How could you have?”

Kristina frowned, then shifted on the narrow
chair. “What is the Dhamma?”

“It is Dhamma in Pali, Dharma in Sanskrit.
It is the Buddha’s teaching. When I taught the Buddha’s Dhamma I
voiced it in Pali.”

“Ah,” said Kristina. “Dhamma.”

“The world is on a suicide course,
Kristina,” said Ruth. “I must do what I can to stop it. I must turn
it around. But the world is like a far too huge ocean liner on a
perilous course, far too close to and heading for the rocky shore.
How do you halt such a vast momentum and turn it toward safety and
enlightenment?”

“I don’t know, Ruth. How do you?”

“By science, I hope. By unifying science and
religion. That’s what I hope.”

“To wed science and religion. That’s what
Julian said your plan was.”

“Yes, to wed science and religion. An old
bristlecone thought that would be a good idea.”

“What?”

“Another story,” said Ruth. “Another time.”
Then: “Do you think it will work?”

“Science and religion?”

“Yes.”

Kristina took a long internal journey, and
fell silent for so long that Ruth wondered if Kristina had in fact
heard her.

She had. Returning, she said, “Today’s
priest is the medical doctor. But I don’t see anyone marrying
medicine and religion. The scientist is not quite as deified,
though he is viewed with respect and not a little awe. But will
they listen to him, or her? I don’t know.”

“I trust they will. The bristlecone said
they will.”

“The bristlecone. Tell me. Now.”

Ruth did.

“You’re a little much to take,” said
Kristina once Ruth had finished her White Mountains story. Though
she smiled as she said it.

“But that’s what he said,” said Ruth.

“Well, he’s been around long enough. He
should know.”

“My thought, precisely.” Then, “But you
don’t think it will work?”

“I didn’t say that. In fact, I think it’s
the only tack that will work.”

Ruth nodded. “I’m glad,” she said. “I’m glad
you agree.”

The Kristina asked the burning question:
“How can I help, Ruth?”

Without hesitation, Ruth answered, as if she
had already considered this, at length, “Help me through high
school without me going crazy. Help me to transfer to Cal Tech to
work with Julian as soon as that’s feasible. Help keep my secret
secret.”

“I can do that,” said Kristina.

“Sorry for not telling you sooner,” said
Ruth.

::
82 :: (Pasadena)

Melissa had not been moved by anyone for as
long as she could remember. Not since meeting Charles so long ago,
and those feelings—she had since discovered and eventually admitted
to herself—had not been love as much as compassion.

Who was this Julian Lawson, and why had Ruth
told her what she did about his heart. Who had he given it to?

Then, as the mind tends to do if you let it,
it rushed off into sweet courtship, engagement, marriage and a few
more children before she got a fix and a hold on it again. Melissa,
for heaven’s sake.

Still.

:

At one point that evening she asks her
daughter, seemingly out of the blue, “What did you mean about
Julian Lawson’s heart?”

“It’s been given.”

“To whom?”

“To Kristina Medina.”

“But she’s married.”

“That is why,” said Ruth, “his heart will
forever be given, for it will never, can never, be received. And so
can never, will never be returned.”

“What happened?” asked Melissa, but Ruth had
said enough on the subject, and would not answer. Maybe she didn’t
know the details.

Melissa tried to envision the circumstances
of Julian Lawson’s given heart but could not. What she did see,
however, is that her daughter was right, for in recalling his
visit, she could sense no interest whatsoever drifting her way from
Ruth’s new teacher—his heart already truly given.

::
83 :: (Pasadena)

Both Kristina and Julian held true to their
promises to not only keep the secret, but also that they would do
anything they could to help Ruth, and so it was that upon finishing
seventh grade at Pasadena Polytechnic—and now an acknowledged
fourteen year old science protégé—it was decided in an
unprecedented move by both Polytechnic and Cal Tech that she would
transfer to Cal Tech under the now Professor Julian Lawson’s
guidance and tutelage to continue her education.

At her own request, and eventually granted
by Cal Tech—whose board didn’t quite see the point of it, but
consented since Ruth, and her mother, both insisted—she would
augment her science curriculum and research with courses in
philosophy and religion. Her stated reason was personal interest,
while her real reason was preparation.

:

Melissa more or less succeeded in wholly
putting aside her interest in Julian Lawson, whom she saw a fair
amount of, especially once Ruth transferred to Cal Tech; but she
did not manage to finally transcend her perceived need until after
a conversation they had in the spring of 2025 in Julian’s office
(now much larger and better kept—William, his assistant, insisted
on neatness, and would take matters in his own hands if Julian
lapsed).

Julian and Ruth were working on a new series
of experiments to prove that what allowed non-local communication
was simply life itself, the true underlying reality to everything.
They had made good progress, but while they both saw the results as
evident, other, more critical views, were nowhere near convinced,
and so they continued to refine and redo.

Another day had come to an end and Melissa
had driven over to Cal Tech to pick up Ruth—they were headed for a
dinner with Melissa’s parents. Ruth, however, was not ready yet,
and pleaded for “five more minutes” which soon had turned
forty-five.

Melissa, meanwhile, dropped in on Julian,
who, as always, was delighted to see her though still as
un-interested (by Melissa’s yard stick) as ever.

“She’s not ready yet,” by way of
explanation, as she sat down.

“Yes, I know. She wants to re-check some
settings for another round tomorrow.”

“Five minutes, she said.”

“Don’t hold your breath—or her to it,” said
Julian. Then he said:

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. For a long
time, actually.” But did not go on.

“Meaning to ask me what, Julian?”

“Does she talk in your head as well?”

She laughed more at the surprise of it than
the question itself, then quickly gathered herself. “Yes, she
certainly does.”

“It scared the pants of me the first
time.”

“Me, too,” she admitted.

“Can you talk back?” he wanted to know.

“Sure.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t seem to find
that, that,” he faltered.

“Tongue?” she suggested.

“Yes, precisely. That tongue. I have to
speak my answers out loud. But I hear her just fine.”

Melissa wasn’t sure what to answer, what to
suggest. For her the tongue, as she had put it, had been found
naturally, it had just been there, for her use, no finding
involved. Julian had not found it, and she could see that it
bothered him, at least on some level. Instead of trying to say
something comforting, she said something that had been on her mind
for at least as long:

“I have a question for you.”

He waited.

“Does your heart still belong to Kristina
Medina?”

“How do you know?”

“Ruth.”

This was the first time Melissa had ever
observed someone about to blush but then change his mind. Like a
shade announced that never arrived. Odd sensation. She realized
that she had put Julian very much on the spot, and was about to
apologize when he said:

“Do you believe in fate?”
Then, before she had a chance to answer, clarified, “I mean, do you
believe that for each person there is a someone that is fated to be
your,” he stopped, apparently searching for the right word; “your
partner,” he said—having gone full circle and then some;
from
mate
to
partner
to
girl
to
intended
to
destined
to
mate
again
and then finally back to
partner
.

“Do I believe there is someone out there
meant just for you?”

“Yes. That’s what I mean.”

“I used to.”

“Not anymore?”

“I haven’t thought about it lately.”

“I believe there is. And I believe that when
you find that someone you’ll know, just flat out know that this is
the person you were intended to spend the rest of your life
with.”

“But she is married.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. That was my
problem. She was already spoken for.”

“Perhaps she is not the one.”

“Oh, she’s the one, all right. I told you
that you flat out know. I flat out knew.”

“And,” she said. “You gave her your
heart?”

He looked up at hear, startled. “Yes, that’s
precisely what I did. I gave her my heart.”

“And you have not retrieved it in all these
years.”

“No, I haven’t retrieved it. I gave it away
for good.”

“You are an amazing man, Julian Lawson.”

Julian didn’t reply. Instead he seemed to
retreat a little, to consider some internal scenario, memory
perhaps. Melissa regarded him with a feeling part wonder, part
compassion. What was he giving up to remain true to his gift? Was
he happy, was he truly happy with such a profound choice?

Then something occurred that made them both
sit up and look at each other in wonder, for he answered her
question, quite clearly, and purely by thought: “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” She said aloud.

“You heard that?”

“You heard my question?”

“Yes I did,” said Julian.

“Yes I did,” said Melissa.

“Well, I’ll be,” said Julian. “Looks like I
found that tongue.”

Then she thought the question, “Does
Kristina know?”

“That she owns my heart?” he said.

“Yes.”

“No. No, she does not.”

Melissa nodded. Yes, she could see that the
noble, the loving thing to do was to not tell her.

“Yes,” Julian said. That’s the noble, the
right thing to do.

“I had a thing for you for a while,” said
Melissa. “Though not anymore.”