Read Online Our Lady of the Forest by David Guterson - Free Book Online Page B

like seagulls flying in slow motion and a cat multiplying into twenty cats sort of like in a hall of mirrors and also a tree squeezed so tightly by a cable that I could literally hear it… weeping. And it all seemed more real than real, more real than normal does, but it was just inside my head in the end. It was just something my head made up. It was just a trip I was on.
    I know what you’re saying, Ann said. But this isn’t like that. It’s different.
    Different how? said Carolyn.
    I remember, said Ann, my science teacher in the ninth grade saying that if you were a dog or a bee, everything would be different. You wouldn’t see what we see. If you were a fly this teacup wouldn’t be here. If none of us were in this room and just a fly was buzzing around there wouldn’t be this cup.
    What is this, Ann, Philosophy One-oh-one? I thought you believed in God and Creation. What are all these deep thoughts?
    I’m just saying—I saw the Blessed Mother.
    Look, I have to pee, said Carolyn. So hold the phenomenology, please, until I empty my bladder.
    I saw Mother Mary, repeated Ann.
    Carolyn got up and went toward the bathroom. Remember to lift the handle, called the priest. You have to hold it for about three seconds if you want the thing to flush right.
    Then they were alone together, the visionary and the priest. He could hear her rough, asthmatic breathing. He became self-conscious and began to worry that the fine hairs shooting from his ears now that he was close to thirty were highly objectionable. Ann, he said. That’s your name, I guess. The epistemological argument can be a compelling one.
    Sorry but I don’t follow you.
    It doesn’t matter when I think about it because your argument isn’t really epistemological, it’s empirical to its core. It’s based on data, raw evidence. It’s based on knowing something definitively because you’ve experienced it directly and explicitly and without questioning the validity of your senses. There’s no deduction or induction. Just your sensory impression.
    Anyway you don’t believe me, Ann said.
    I do believe you. I didn’t say that. I believe you saw Our Lady.
    But you don’t believe she was actually there.
    That’s what I’ve been talking about. That’s exactly the question at hand. What do you mean by actually?
    Really there. You know. Not just something that came from me. Something that came from outside of me. That’s what I mean by actually there. Really there, Father.
    Really there is the central question.
    And I can tell you don’t think she really was.
    I’m just saying honestly that I don’t know. I’m just saying it didn’t happen to me. I have no direct experience of Mary, unlike you, can you see that? For you, it’s one thing, for me it’s another. What I have is your report about it which I am not criticizing in any way, but still it’s important for me to be certain before I decide that the Mother of God is really, actually present. It’s just too important to accept on its face without asking fundamental questions.
    She told me I should come and tell you everything.
    And in what way would you describe her tone?
    I don’t know. What do you mean?
    I mean is she giving you a firm command when she instructs you to come and talk to me? Is it an order, a request, a suggestion maybe? How would you describe her tone?
    It’s a command, Father. She commands me.
    A command sounds… scary. Is it scary a little? Is all of it kind of frightening?
    I’m scared about one thing.
    What is that?
    I’m scared about the devil, Father.
    There isn’t any devil, Ann.
    Yes there is. I feel his presence.
    The priest appraised her disconsolately. It’s normal to feel unsettled, he said, in a situation like this.
    Ann leaned toward him desperately. Suddenly my whole life is different, she said. I didn’t ask for this to happen. But it