Stranger in a Strange Land

“Thou art God. Share water.”

“Never thirst. And don’t ever pay any mind to what Duke says—from the way he behaves he must have been a bottle baby.” She leaned over Duke and kissed him even more lingeringly while he patted her ample fundament. Ben noted that she was short, plump, brunette almost to swarthiness, and had a mane of heavy blue-black hair almost to her waist “Duke, did you see anything of a Ladies’ Home Journal when you got up?” She reached past his shoulder, took his fork and started eating his scrambled eggs. “Mmm… good. You didn’t cook these, Duke.”

“Ben did. What in the world would I want with a Ladies’ Home Journal?”

“Ben, stir up a couple of dozen more exactly the same way and I’ll scramble ’em in relays. There was an article in it I wanted to show Patty, dear.”

“Okay,” agreed Ben and got up to do it.

“Don’t you two get any ideas about redecorating this dump or I’m moving out. And leave some of those eggs for me! You think us men can do our work on mush?”

“Tut, tut, Dukie darling. Water divided is water multiplied. As I was saying, Ben, Duke’s complaints never mean anything—as long as he has enough women for two men and enough food for three, he’s a perfect little lamb.” She shoved one forkful into Duke’s mouth, went on eating the rest herself. “So quit making faces, brother; I’m about to cook you a second breakfast. Or will this be your third?”

“Not even the first, yet. You ate it. Ruth, I was telling Ben how you and Sam pole-vaulted from Third to Ninth. I think he’s uneasy about whether he belongs in the Sharing-Water tonight.”

She pursued the last bite on Duke’s plate, then moved over and started preparations to cook. “Duke, you run along and I’ll send you out something other than mush. Take your coffee cup and skedaddle. Ben, I was worried, too, when my time came—but don’t you be worried, dear, because Michael does not make mistakes. You belong here or you wouldn’t be here. You’re going to stay?”

“Uh, I can’t. Ready for the first installment?”

“Pour them in. Then you’ll be back. And someday you’ll stay. Duke is correct—Sam and I pole-vaulted… and it was almost too fast for a middle-aged, prim and proper housewife.”

“Middle-aged?”

“Ben, one of the bonuses about the discipline is that as it straightens out your soul, your body straightens out, too. That’s a matter in which the Christian Scientists are precisely right. Notice any medicine bottles in any of the bathrooms?”

“Uh, no.”

“There aren’t any. How many people have kissed you?”

“Several, at least.”

“As a priestess I kiss a lot more than ‘several,’ believe me. But there’s never so much as a sniffle in the Nest. I used to be the sort of whiny woman who is never quite well and given to ‘female complaints.’” She smiled. “Now I’m more female than ever but I’m twenty pounds lighter and years younger and have nothing to complain about—I like being female. As Duke flattered me, ‘a Levantine whore’ and unquestionably much more limber than I was—I always sit in the lotus position when I’m teaching a class, whereas it used to be all I could do just to squat down and straighten up again… hot flashes and dizziness.

“But it did happen fast,” Ruth went on. “Sam was a professor of Oriental languages at the University here—the city U., that is. Sam started coming to the Temple because it was a way, the only way, to learn the Martian language. Strictly professional motivation, he wasn’t interested in it as a church. And I went along to keep an eye on him… I had heard rumors and I was a jealous wife, even more possessive than the average.

“So we worked up to the Third Circle, Sam learning the language rapidly, of course, and myself grimly hanging on and studying hard because I didn’t want to let him out of my sight. Then boom! the miracle happened. We suddenly began to think in it, just a little… and Michael felt it and had us stay after service, a Third Circle service, one night and Michael and Gillian gave us water. Afterwards, I knew that I was all the things I had despised in other women and I knew that I should despise my husband for letting me do it and hate him for what he had done himself. All this in English, with the wont parts in Hebrew. So I wept all day and moaned and made myself a stinking nuisance to Sam… and couldn’t wait to get back to share more water and grow closer again that night.

“After that things were steadily easier but not easy, as we were pushed through all the inner circles just as rapidly as we could take it; Michael knew that we needed help and wanted to get us into the safety and peace of the Nest. So when it came time for our Sharing-Water, I was still unable to discipline myself without constant help. I knew that I wanted to be received into the Nest—once you start, there’s no turning back—but I wasn’t sure I could merge myself with seven other people. I was scared silly; on the way over I almost begged Sam to turn around and go home.”