The Valkyries. Пауло КоэльоЧитать онлайн книгу.
know that if they don’t, we’ll be unable to see them.”
Paulo closed his eyes.
“Imagine your angel, and you will feel its presence right now, right here.”
They fell quiet, lying there on the floor of the desert. There was not a sound to be heard, and Chris began once again to feel like she was in a film, playing to an invisible audience. The more intensely she concentrated, the more certain she was that all around her there was a strong presence, friendly and generous. She began to imagine her angel, dressed in blue, with golden hair and immense white wings—exactly as she had pictured her angel as a child.
Paulo was imagining his angel, as well. He had already immersed himself many times in the invisible world that surrounded them, so it was not a new experience for him. But now, since J. had assigned him this task, he felt that his angel was much more present—as if the angels made themselves available only to those who believed in their existence. He knew, though, that whether one believed in them or not, they were always there—messengers of life, of death, of hell, and of paradise.
He dressed his angel in a long robe, embroidered in gold. And he also gave his angel wings.
THE HOTEL WATCHMAN, EATING HIS breakfast, turned to them as they came in.
“I wouldn’t go out into the desert at night again,” he said.
This really is a small town, Chris thought. Everybody knows what you’re doing.
“It’s dangerous in the desert at night,” the guard explained. “That’s when the coyotes come out, and the snakes. They can’t stand the heat of the day, so they do their hunting after the sun goes down.”
“We were looking for our angels,” Paulo said.
The watchman thought that the man didn’t speak English very well. What he had said didn’t make sense. Angels! Perhaps he’d meant something else.
The two finished their coffee quickly. Paulo’s “contact” had set their meeting for early in the morning.
CHRIS WAS SURPRISED WHEN SHE SAW Gene for the first time. He was quite young, certainly not more than twenty, and he lived in a trailer out in the desert, several miles from Borrego Springs.
“This is a master of the Conspiracy?” she whispered to Paulo, when the youth had gone to fetch some iced tea.
But Gene was back before Paulo could respond. They sat under an awning that extended along the side of the trailer.
They talked about the rituals of the Templars, about reincarnation, about Sufi magic, about the Catholic church in Latin America. The boy seemed to know a great deal, and it was amusing to listen to their conversation—they sounded like fans discussing a popular sport, defending certain tactics and criticizing others.
They spoke of everything—except angels.
The heat of the day was intensifying. They drank more tea as Gene, smiling agreeably, told them of the marvels of the desert. He warned them that novices should never go into it at night, and that it would be smart to avoid the hottest hours of the day, as well.
“The desert is made of mornings and afternoons,” he said. “The other times are risky.”
Chris listened to their conversation for as long as she could. But she had awakened early, and the sun was getting stronger and stronger. She decided she’d close her eyes and take a quick nap.
WHEN SHE AWOKE, THE SOUND OF THEIR voices was coming from a different place. The two men were at the rear of the trailer.
“Why did you bring your wife?” she heard Gene ask in a guarded tone.
“Because I was coming to the desert,” Paulo answered, also whispering.
Gene laughed.
“But you’re missing what’s best about the desert. The solitude.”
What a cheeky kid, Chris thought.
“Tell me about the Valkyries you mentioned,” Paulo said.
“They can help you to find your angel,” replied Gene. “They’re the ones who instructed me. But the Valkyries are jealous and tough. They try to follow the same rules as the angels—and, you know, in the kingdom of the angels, there is no good and no evil.”
“Not as we understand them,” Paulo countered.
Chris had no idea what they meant by “Valkyries.” She had a vague memory of having heard the name in the tide of an opera.
“Was it difficult for you to see your angel?”
“A better word would be anguishing. It happened all of a sudden, back in the days when the Valkyries came through here. I decided I’d learn the process just for the fun of it, because at that point, I didn’t yet understand the language of the desert, and I was upset about everything that was happening to me.
“My angel appeared on that third mountain peak. I was up there just wandering and listening to music on my Walkman. In those days, I had already mastered the second mind.”
What the hell is the “second mind”? Chris wondered.
“Was it your father who taught it to you?”
“No. And when I asked him why he had never told me about the angels, he told me that some things are so important that you have to learn about them on your own.”
They were silent for a moment.
“If you meet with the Valkyries, there’s something that will make it easier for you to get along with them,” Gene said.
“What’s that?”
The young man laughed.
“You’ll find out. But it would have been a lot better if you hadn’t brought your wife along.”
“Did your angel have wings?” Paulo asked.
Before Gene could answer, Chris had arisen from her folding chair, come around the trailer, and now stood before them.
“Why is he making such a big thing about your coming here alone?” she asked, speaking Portuguese. “Do you want me to leave?”
Gene went on with what he was saying to Paulo, paying no attention whatsoever to Chris’s interruption. She waited for Paulo’s answer—but she might just as well have been invisible.
“Give me the keys to the car,” she said, at the limit of her patience.
“What does your wife want?” Gene finally asked.
“She wants to know what the ‘second mind’ is.” Damn! Nine years we’ve been together, and this stranger already knows all about us!
Gene stood up.
“Sit down, close your eyes, and I will show you what the second mind is,” he said.
“I didn’t come here to the desert to learn about magic or converse with angels,” Chris said. “I came only to be with my husband.”
“Sit down,” Gene insisted, smiling.
She looked at Paulo for a fraction of a second, but was unable to determine what he was thinking.
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