The Loved and the Lost (48 page)

“You made it! Good show,” he laughed jovially. The younger Hansum, with Guilietta in his arms, looked around in astonishment.

“How? Who?” he began, looking to his older self.

“All in good time. And this fellow is . . . You know, I think it might be better not to say the rest of our names just now.”

“Whatever you say, Elder Yu.”

“Elder Yu?” Lincoln questioned. Hansum shook his head. Sideways shrank his blanket again, revealing Guilietta. “Oh, and look what we have here. Medeea, how is she?”

“Who's he talking to?” the younger Hansum asked. The older one waved his hand again, ‘later'.

Medeea came and looked at the sleeping Guilietta, putting a hand to her own temple.

“Oh, she's much better. And we've caught the infection this time, before it hurt the fetus. The baby is fine.”

Both the old Hansum and Lincoln laughed joyously.

“She's fine,” Lincoln crowed. “She's going to be fine and so is the baby! Medeea, can you wake her up?”

“Absolutely,”
and she nodded.

“Baby?” the young Hansum began to ask, but stopped when Guilietta eyes fluttered. “Guilietta?”

“Romero,” she said quietly. “Is it still a dream?” and she looked around.

“No dear. It's really me.”

“Am I in Heaven? Are we in . . .”

“No darling. These people from my home saved us. And they made you better. Everything is going to be all right.”

“I don't understand . . .” Guilietta began.

“All will be explained soon, young lady,” the old Hansum said. “My boy, see if she can stand.”

“But . . .”

“Modern medicine,” the old Hansum reminded.

Guilietta was wobbly, but able.

“It's a miracle,” Guilietta said.

“A MIRACLE! A MIRACLE!” came the cry of the Signora, waking up.

“What? Where?” Agistino's rough voice was heard as he bulled his way onto his feet, pulling his wife with him.

“Mama, Papa!” Guilietta cried, and she and young Hansum ran to them.

“Guilietta, my Guilietta, we're together in Heaven,” the Signora cried as Guilietta fell between her parents in an excited embrace.

“Together in Heaven.” Agistino cried joyously.

“Thank you, dear angels,” the Signora said to the heavens, and then stopped when she saw the younger Hansum. “I suppose Cristo is kind and forgave you too.”

“No Mama,” Guilietta laughed kindly. “Apparently we're not . . .”

“Tell her later,” the old Hansum advised. “Your journey is not over.”

“We're not in Heaven yet?” the Signora asked. She put her hands to her temples. “My head. Voices and sounds don't echo anymore. I feel . . . different.”

The old Hansum felt his Lincoln's touch.

“Let's confer,” and the older Hansum, Lincoln, Shamira and Medeea stepped away. “I guess we did it,” Lincoln said quietly, a smile on his face.

“Yes. Thank you. Thank you all,” Elder Hansum laughed.

“Look at them. They look so happy,” Shamira said.

“The nano bits have already balanced the Signora's brain,”
Medeea told them.

The younger Hansum had his arm around Guilietta, looking like he never wanted to let her go.

“I thought we were done,” the older Hansum sighed, watching them. He looked back at his comrades. “I'm in this all the way. But are you sure you want to . . .” Shamira looked right at Hansum, her green eyes showing over the veil. They glistened more happily than Hansum had remembered seeing them since Kingsley's death.

“I'm all in too,” Shamira assured him. “I have no regrets.” She put a hand to the node on her neck and tapped it. “My temporal protection is off.”

“And you two?” Hansum asked Lincoln and Medeea. “Once they go through the vortex . . .”

Lincoln looked at Medeea. It was a joint decision.

“Sweet heart?”
Lincoln asked.

“This way, we get to do it all over again,”
she answered,
“and with all our good friends, including Guilietta.”
They kissed.

“Thank you. Thank you all,” Elder Hansum said, and he reached in his tunic and took off the necklace with his own temporal protector, dropping it to the ground. “Friends,” he called out to the others. “It's time to go.”

“Time to go to Heaven, kind angel?” the Signora asked.

The older Hansum smiled. “You could say that, dear woman. You truly could.”

“Oh Agistino,” the Signora said, taking her husband's arm. “Together,” and the Master smiled and crossed himself.

“Friends, be not afraid of what you are about to see,” Elder Hansum said. “It is but a doorway to another place. Sideways . . .”

And there, before them on the walkway, a vortex formed. But, instead of being vertical, it was horizontal, so they could all walk through it. A wind gusted and sucked in leaves and vapor from the clouds. The Signora smiled broadly, gripping Agistino with one arm, her bonnet with the other.

“The stairway to Heaven,” she chimed.

Guilietta was staring, almost trembling, at the sight of the whirlwind. The older Hansum watched the light of it dance off her radiant features. Looking at her, he was almost frozen with awe, a softness in his eyes that bespoke a century of devotion.

“I'd almost forgotten . . .” the old Hansum began to say.

“Forgotten what, elder?” young Hansum asked.

“So beautiful. So . . .” Then he shook his head. “Please, enter now the Sands of Time.”

“Come, my darling,” Hansum said to Guilietta, gently pulling her by the hand. She held back, her lips slightly parted and worry in her eyes.

“It's safe. I wouldn't do anything to harm you,” the older Hansum said, smiling.

As Guilietta passed him, she stopped.

“Signor, your eyes, they're so much like . . .” The old man leaned forward and whispered in Guilietta's ear.

“Hush. Tell me in fifty years. Now hurry.”

“Aren't you leading the way?” the young Hansum asked.

“No, you go ahead. I'll be staying here for now. But first, let me look one more time upon the faces of my youth. The faces of all youth. Youth and courage. Youth and possibilities. Youth in a world where all is conceivable,” and the older Hansum stepped back. “Farewell. Take care of each other.”

The older Hansum watched his younger self step forward, smiling encouragement to Guilietta. As they stepped into the whirling vortex, one of Guilietta's hands was holding the younger Hansum's, the other was touching her belly, where the baby lay. The older Hansum beamed and was now truly content. The della Cappas followed into the vortex, walking happily to their own new futures, to the old Hansum's soon-to-be-extinguished past. But he didn't care.

“The meaning of life is to give your life meaning,” the old man said to himself. “This I have done,” and he smiled. Hansum turned to Lincoln, Shamira and Medeea. “Good bye old friends. I guess we'll see each other on the other side of tomorrow.”

The old Lincoln and Medeea stood in an embrace, both smiling at Hansum, and then they locked eyes with each other, making the other the last thing they would see. Shamira stood with her hands clutched in front of her, a smile of joy and awe on her face. With the roar of the vortex in his ears, Hansum's skin flushed with excitement and expectation, content in his submission to a successful sacrifice.

As the young Hansum's foot started to step out of the other side of the time portal, the elderly Hansum began to laugh with anticipation and felt his emotions peaking — his final emotions. He raised his hand to his cheek, in a gesture of awe, but as the two parts of his body came together, they passed through each other, as if vapor. Through fading eyes, he saw his younger self almost into the future. And as they became more solid there, he felt himself passing into nothingness, into a never-was-ness.

“Love has won,” he whispered, “Love has . . .”

As countless generations of humans into the future watched this new scene play out on their Mists of Times Chronicles, it was like Hansum's parents' home was in a little snow globe setting. For thousands of years, what became known as
The
Tragical Tale of Romero and Guilietta
, became one of the most watched History Camp stories. And at the end of it, Hansum always walked into his family's home with the beautiful young woman on his arm, presenting her to his parents.

“Mother, Father, Charlene, this is Guilietta. She is my wife,” he said, his voice echoing in the cosmos.

Men and women, forward through the ages, watched as the two young people wed again in the 24th-century. It was not an elopement this time. Hansum's parents were present, as well as Guilietta's. Bringing the Signora and Master della Cappa forward in time, curing the Signora of her mental illness and giving them places in the future, seemed to work out. The History Camp Time Travel Council ruled it didn't change the time in between, so no harm was done. And Agistino was a huge help at the 14
^th
-century Verona History Camp.

“Congratulations Guilietta,” the sixteen-year-old Shamira said, as she embraced Guilietta at the crowded wedding reception. A proud Hansum of eighteen looked on, standing next to the fifteen-year-old best man, Lincoln.

“Thank you, sister,” Guilietta replied, smiling radiantly.

“Oh, it's hard to hug you now,” Shamira laughed, stepping back. “Can I touch?”

“Per favore, please,” Guil answered. Shamira put her hand on Guilietta's beautiful large belly.

“It's harder than I thought. Oh, it kicked,” and everyone laughed.

“How are you enjoying your art history courses, Sham?” Hansum asked, and a wicked smile came to Shamira's lips.

“Oh, it's been . . . very gratifying,” she said waving someone over. Guilietta looked up as a shadow fell across them. “This is someone I met in class. He's a sculptor and from the 26
^th
-century.” A large hand extended to Guilietta and then Hansum. The other went tenderly onto Shamira's shoulder.

“Hello. I'm Kingsley.”

“Ah, there you are, Lincoln,”
Arimus called.
“I've found you at last.”

“Oh darn, and I've been trying to hide from you, Arimus,” Lincoln kidded. “You're the guy who put us through all that torture.”

“A student often calls the lessons of life a trial,
But as you grow, there'll be no denial.
Those same struggles are what makes one interesting.”

“Arimus, did you find out who that Elder Yu was?” Hansum asked.

“No, not yet. It still remains a mystery.
I went back to retrieve you at the Arena
and you were already gone . . . history.”

“Strange. So strange,” Hansum said. “Whoever he was,” Hansum said looking to his Guilietta, “we have a lot to thank him for.”

“Si, God bless Elder Yu,” Guilietta said. “He seemed like a man of love. His eyes reminded me of yours, husband. Everything reminds me of you.”

“The same here, Guilietta. I guess that's what love really is,” and they kissed.

“Oh, there they go again,” Lincoln complained. “You won't find me falling like that. Never. Ever. Okay, now that you found me, Arimus, what else ya got to make me even more interesting than this adventure already has?”

“Oh yes, of course, my young mind-delver,”
and Arimus reached into his robes and took out
a tiny glass tear vessel.
“Lincoln, please give your greetings to Medeea.”

“Oh, zippy,” Lincoln said, smiling at the bottle in his hand. “And yet another big adventure is about to begin.”

-the end-

Thank you for reading
The Verona Trilogy
. I truly hope you enjoyed it.

Most futuristic novels don't give you the back story of their civilizations. They just plop the reader into the middle of the characters' lives and start the story rolling. The writer lets readers infer much of how the civilization works from what happens around the characters. I do pretty much the same thing. After all, it's the characters and the story that is important, and the quality of its telling. But behind the scenes, writers of future fiction have to work out a general history for their world to rationalize why things are the way they are. But, I thought, why not share the backstory? Some readers might find it interesting. That's what follows here.

The Verona Trilogy
takes place in three time periods; the 24th and 31st-centuries, when the characters are in the future, and 14
^th
-century Verona, Italy, when they are in the past.

While writing the first book of the trilogy,
The Lens and the Looker
, I spent months researching 14
^th
-century Verona, and even went to modern Verona, spending days taking in the many sights. What a difference that made to my vision of the tale's telling. Many of the buildings, streets and churches have been maintained much as they were in the past, so I felt I was wandering in and seeing the same things my characters did. I wanted details to be as realistic as they could and, for me, it's the details in the research that feed and inspire my writer's imagination.