All Things Are in Motion

THE COUPLE SLEPT UNTIL WELL INTO THE EARLY MORNING. AFTER A brief visit with the baker, a call to the Director at the FBI, and a conversation with a now-conscious Dennis and his wife, Artie returned to the apartment to gather Smythe and their luggage before heading to the airport.

Smythe was still a bit skittish and easily startled, but once seated on the plane, she finally began to relax. Of course, the first-class seat didn’t hurt either. She stared out the window with a glass of whisky in one hand and Artie’s hand in her other. She scanned her body. She realized a new emotion had emerged. Something she had not felt before.

But it was not happiness she felt. After everything she went through all those hours, days, and months ago, the people harmed to either protect her or seek justice—happiness in light of it all was not the emotion her body evoked. It was not contentment, either. That would suggest she was at peace and fulfilled, and she knew she was not either of those states of being—in time perhaps, but not just yet.

Smythe remained quiet for a time, listening for the elusive word which matched the feeling in her body. And then it revealed itself. Grounded. She felt grounded in all that had occurred in her life. It seemed to her that everything that happened had unfolded the way it was supposed to. Equally as important, she felt fully present in her here-now moment knowing that her Beloved was in the midst of everything, and within her Beloved lay perfection.

She sat watching the clouds drift below the blue sky and realized she had been waiting for all of this to make sense. A feather floated above her and landed on her chest. She picked it up and held it gently in her hand.

I have yet to piece it all together, my Beloved, but I am similar to this feather. Moving along a path from beginning to end, emptying parts of myself which no longer serve me. At times I was resistant. Ok, a lot of the time, I was resistant, but now I understand. I am willing to go where you lead me.

Artie took the feather from the palm of Smythe’s hand, quickly examining its intricacies.

“The stewardess just walked past us with a pillow. Probably came from there.”

“Hmm. You know, I’ve never flown first-class. What’s interesting is that while there’s real glass, real silverware and china, and feathered pillows, the view out the window is the same view from anywhere on the plane. You could have saved yourself some money and flown business or coach, you know.”

“It’s the service one receives here. And, it’s safer,” Artie remarked. “A private entrance into this section allows me to see who’s coming and going.”

“Is there a possibility that someone is on board with us?”

“Unlikely, baby. You’ve already testified.”

“Well, all of the movies I’ve watched make these kinds of people seem vengeful. Why wouldn’t they want to kill me? It sends a clear message that they’re still in control.”

“True, yet not true. For now, from what I am told, the group is in chaos. They’re probably starting an internal power struggle, and they’ll be too busy infighting to keep you on their radar.”

Smythe returned to gazing out her seat window.

“To ask you not to worry is pointless, but I am going to suggest it anyway. Don’t look over your shoulder. Don’t think about the ‘what ifs.’ I have daily reports coming in, and it’s my job to think about your safety.”

“But you need to relax, too. I’m concerned for you as well. They must know who you are, right?”

“They do.”

Artie’s response was a bit of a gut punch to Smythe. While she appreciated the truth of it, what she really wanted was assurance that Artie would be safe.

Artie searched Smythe’s face and then whispered. “Remember, I was an FBI agent, and I worked with a firm that had members of the syndicate as clients. And then, there were my two guys. I assume they’ve always known.”

“But you weren’t a threat back then. Now that you’re protecting me, aren’t you more of a threat?”

“Stop. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“It’s hard not to.”

“Choose.”

Smythe sighed. She knew Artie was right. She remembered her teachings. All thought is energy. All thoughts create things. All things are in motion.

“While we’re away, let’s make plans,” Artie suggested.

“For what?”

“To leave the valley. You can work from anywhere, and so can I. Let’s make our dreams come true. Wadda ya say? You up for a new adventure?”

“Sounds like music to my heart, love.”