Episode one

“Good grief, pilgrims coming up the trail. Do not they know there’s three minutes left in the fourth quarter. Now I must move the portable satellite dish and hide my ear buds,” the wise man grumbled. Life on the mountaintop became monotonous. Because pilgrims never varied in their questions. Monks compensated with WIFI.

“Oh, great wise man, what is the meaning of life?” they would ask.

I am tempted to tell them to invest the money they spent coming in the stock market or a saving account, but that would deprive me of the tip money. I use the money to help the poor, of course. I also use it to pay for my WIFI and the subscriptions I watch. Behind me is a small opening that leads to an underground chamber. In the chamber is a T.V, my computer, a kitchen, and my bed. Off to one side is a small study where I read to keep current on replies to the question,” What is the meaning of life for wayward pilgrims.” I belong to a chat group who works to keep the answers fresh.

The heat of the summer is the busiest time of the pilgrim season. Winter is the monk’s favorite. The monks sit under an overhang watching the snow. It is so quiet. The hilltop during falling snow is stunning. You hear mice running across the snow. The air is still. The quiet heals a person. The pilgrims are few. The ones that brave the cold are experienced travelers. They know the monks spend more time with the winter pilgrims than the summer ones. The answers to life’s questions in winter take a deeper meaning.

The satisfaction from living underground is extreme for the monks. The pilgrims believe the extreme solitude satisfies the soul of the monk. During the winter, the silence penetrates underground like fog seeps into everything. Under a blanket, a warm fire makes meditation easy. So is watching sports or binge watching a show from the 50’s. The winter became ideal.

Today started good. Few pilgrims struggled their way up the hill. Rain yesterday made the steep hill difficult. Local shepherds made a few dollars rescuing the fallen or guiding them up the hill. On days such as this, for a small fee, a drink of water helped the pilgrim rest for a second. The monks were grateful for the opportunity to help the shepherds. They struggled in life.

The day changed when I smelled smoke coming from my cave. Hurrying inside, my WIFI receiver smoked from behind. Unplugging it, the burnt smell filled the cave. My concern stemmed from the things I wanted to watch on T.V. tonight. The call to the WFI provider promised a replacement in the mail tomorrow and arrival within ten days.

A pilgrim’s questions became too personal which never went well. I lost my religion when a pilgrim asked if I had a sex life. So now I sat in the solitude of my cave in silence. Dark descended across the hills filling the hilltops last. I made sure no one could see light escaping the cave. It became a mystery and people wondered where we slept at night. One monk put a bedroll under the overhang, telling people that was his bed.

Today took a challenging turn when a young female pilgrim came at dusk, dressed in black, difficult to see. She walked stooped at the waist, giving the impression she aged with time.

She stopped before the entrance to the my cave and said, “Forgive me father for I have sinned. I need absolution of my sins which are many. “

I stopped and looked at the stooped woman, “Yes you do. Your sins are many, too many to do at once. Your absolution will require at least two or three days.” The woman stood straight and let the black coat slide from her shoulders to the floor. She walked to me and threw her arms around me. I said again, “Didn’t I teach you to hang up your coat?”

The woman, now visible, shook her long blonde hair, letting it fall. She appeared to be in her early thirties. Tall and lanky describer her appearance. We talked late into the night. I prepared her bed and gathered toiletries for her to ready her for sleep. She traveled a great distance to come and was ready for sleep.

 I watched her sleep remembering when she left. She traveled here to spend time with me when it was not safe at home. She believed she was safe on the hill. I taught her so much during those times she stayed here with me. Together we created responses to questions about the meaning of life which drove the pilgrims crazy. Her absence from the cave seemed longer this time. I surprised she came. I watched her sleep. Her sleep did not seem restful. Weariness overtook me too and I prepared for bed.

The next morning as we sat for breakfast, we tried to catch up with each other’s lives. It was difficult because the woman’s life continued to be a mystery. One day when she was here, several years ago, the woman came accompanied by another woman. I discovered the other woman happened to come as a bodyguard.

I asked, “Why does she need a guard? No one knows she is here. She is safe.”

The bodyguard replied,” She is safe as far as you know. I am here to make sure. Just pretend I’m not here.” The woman resembled a professional middle linebacker, difficult to miss. The stay was short. The young woman and the bodyguard left because the woman returned to school. What grade or college level, I did not know? Judging by her curves she was between 16 and 20. She spoke as an educated person. I wondered if she dated, enjoyed life? There were few clues.

We talked over breakfast. I remembered when she was young, she ran like a deer. She found everything, hidden or not. I struggled to keep her in the cave. When Pilgrims came, she wanted to visit with them. To her, the meaning of life involved games and chocolate. I believed she chose the right path. The pilgrims looked for something more sophisticated. I made sure there was ice cream and puzzles when she came. The child thought it was great I had a full kitchen and T.V. in my cave. We played games till we both fell asleep.

As we finished breakfast, the young woman asked about her first visit. “Tell me about the first time,” she asked. “How did I arrive here?” We discussed this many times, always with the same story.

I replied, “A pilgrim arrived late one afternoon. He stood tall and large. He did not ask about anything. He just said, “Take care of this.” He opened his coat, placing a bundle in front of me. As he turned to leave, He said, “Make sure nothing happens to it.”  When I opened the bundle, there inside wrapped, warm was you. “What could I do with a baby? I hurried into town, asking for the needs of a baby. It is a miracle of God you survived. And look at you! Such a beautiful young woman, full of life!”

The young woman smiled and said, “I owe my life to you. You will never know the danger I experienced that day till today. It is time for me to go.”  She turned and reached for her purse. “I must take care of one thing before I go.” She reached into her purse and pulled a Glock nine-millimeter from her purse. As she turned to face the monk, a moment of shock registered on her face just before she heard a low thump. A small hole appeared in her forehead. She collapsed to the ground.

 In great sadness, I looked at her, “Forgive me Father. I have sinned.”