Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end.

Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881)

British politician and author

so, what’s your story … Jason

Santa Fe, New Mexico . 1968

“What are you running from … does it have a name?” asked Father Matthieu.

“Please, just sign the paper and let me go in peace,” Jason said, without looking at the Father. “I will never ask you for another favor. Please, I have to leave Santa Fe and the ...”

“Jason, what is the last part of that sentence … that’s the part that will haunt you for the remainder of your days. Honor the last part of your sentence with your admirable strength, not your remorseful weakness.”

“Thank you, Father. Please forgive me. I am so sorry for everything. I …”

“To be forgiven, you must first accept its truth,” said Father Matthieu. “You have my blessings that your truth will be the traveling companion on this journey you now wish to begin. Forgiveness waits in the shadow of its truth, Jason. It is not mine to grant, but yours to accept from the one of courageous heart and gracious unconditional love.”

“Goodbye, Father,” whispered Jason.

“Au revoir, Jason Pascal,” said Father Matthieu.

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Paris, France . current day

“There you are … what are you doing back here in the shadows of your limelight, Jason?” asked Alexandre. “Oh, let me guess … remembrance of things past. Man, you have got to let history go and enjoy your moment!” “Fifty years is a long time to hold tight the past, my friend,” said Alexandre. “You have just been awarded the MacArthur Genius Grant, and you sit here in this dark balcony of yesterday’s regrets!”

Jason shook his head, as if to rid the thoughts that played over and over in his mind. “Just thinking about when I last talked to Father Matthieu,” said Jason. “We talked about shadows … forgiveness waits in the shadow of its truth … those were Father Matthieu’s last words to me.”

 “What’s it been … fifty years since you and the Father last spoke?” asked Alexandre.

“Yes, you’ve got the timeline right,” said Jason. If only I could erase my stupidity.

“That might take more than fifty years, my friend,” chuckled Alexandre.

You know Father Matthieu would be very proud of you, Jason.

“I don’t know about that,” shrugged Jason. I think he would have been more impressed with me completing a certain sentence than any award… and you know what I am talking about.

“The truth shall set you free, my friend,” dramatized Alexandre.

“The stage calls to you, Alexandre,” grinned Jason.

Jason heard his name announced … Dr. Jason Pascal, American architect and physicist, is awarded the MacArthur Fellowship for his creative developments in the field of experimental physics and the influence on next generation environmental architecture.

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“Congratulations, Dr. Pascal. May I ask you a few questions for our article?” asked The New York Times reporter. “Ask away,” said Jason.

“What are your plans for the $625,000 stipend you have been awarded?” asked the reporter.

“I plan to … (Jason glances at his watch)

“I am so sorry, but I have a plane to catch. Could we do this interview by phone after I arrive at my destination?” asked Jason.

“Sure, but I have a tight deadline, could we talk tomorrow … say at 10:00 a.m.?” asked the reporter.

“Yes, that should be fine,” said Jason. Make that 10 o’clock New York time, added Jason.

“Until tomorrow, then,” said the reporter.

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“Hey, Jason … where did you go, man?” phoned Alexandre. “There’s a room full of very distinguished people waiting to rub elbows with the Dr. Jason Pascal, newly minted MacArthur Fellow.”

“I’m sorry, Alexandre. I had to get out of there … I am headed to the airport … back to the States,” said Jason.

“What state?” teased Alexandre.

“The state of it’s-none-of-your-business,” chuckled Jason.

“That says it all, my friend. Enjoy your trip back to the Land of Enchantment and its honey lavender memories. Call me. Remember, the truth shall set you free. Adiós, mi amigo.”

“Adiós, mi amigo,” said Jason. You are a royal pain in the butt on most days, and I do mean that in the nicest way, Alexandre. What my sister sees in you is still a mystery to me after all these years, laughed Jason. You and Arielle are my lifeline. Seriously, my friend, thank you for everything.

“Likewise, my friend. See you in a few weeks. Don’t worry, I will take care of things here,” assured Alexandre.

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What are you running from … does it have a name? … Yes, Father Matthieu, it does have a name, Jason thought to himself as he settled in for his international flight back to the States.

“Please fasten your seat belt Dr. Pascal, we are preparing to take off. We wouldn’t want to lose a MacArthur Fellow,” winked the flight attendant.

“Word travels,” said Jason.

“Oui, monsieur Pascal. Félicitations!”

“Merci beaucoup,” replied Jason.

The overnight flight to New York – JFK provided Jason the time to think about some of his many experimental mind-twisting projects. Were it not for the fact that people were now standing in the aisles scavenging for their belongings in the overhead compartments, he would be perfectly happy thinking and sleeping … think sleeping … perhaps a new term, laughed Jason. But, it is back to the real world and its pesky realities, Jason said to himself.

“I guess this is really happening … I am going back fifty years to recoup a wrong and to hopefully make things right,” mused Jason. Just not sure what the right may be, but the wrong has staked its clarion victory inside my head for decades. I can hear you, Alexandre … the truth shall set me free. But, free for what and for whom … you forgot to insert that part of the equation, Alexandre.

“Au voir, monsieur Pascal,” said the flight attendant. “Au voir, merci,” said Jason.

“By the way, did you ever figure out who you are?” asked the attendant.

“Pardon?” asked Jason.

“You kept mumbling in your sleep that you needed to find you … who you are; what you are … I believe were your words,” said the attendant.

Jason smiled and said, “I am afraid the hunt is still in progress.”

“Best wishes, Dr. Pascal. Your connecting flight to Dallas and on to Albuquerque is Terminal 8 Gate 45, smiled the attendant. Good luck with your hunt. It’s worth the effort, you know.”

“I truly hope you are right,” said Jason. Thank you for your help.

Jason finally made it to the Admirals Club at JFK’s American Airlines terminal. He had to prepare mentally for the interview with The New York Times reporter. The clock was ticking loudly in his head and his eyelids struggled to stay open. The prop of responsibility to the MacArthur Foundation would have to be the buttress to stay energized for the next few hours. But, how to brace for the days ahead, Jason questioned as he gazed through a window of tomorrow’s future. A mystery yet to be revealed, much like the Miraculous Spiral Staircase in Santa Fe’s Loretto Chapel. Jason imagined himself at the base of this mysterious beauty … silently praying that the spiraling steps would lead the way to the untold truths that had held him captive for so many years.

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The truth shall set you free … reason has its truth … the heart will find a way … conditions proven over the ages -- the laws of physics meet the universe of love. “Could physics provide the steppingstone to a miraculous healing of yesterday’s regrets?” Jason wondered.

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“Excuse me, Dr. Pascal, the conference room is available for your call,” said the attendant.

 “Thank you, I guess it’s time to get back to reality,” Jason said with the same smile he had once shared fifty years ago on one special Hello, I Love You night.