Everyone But You
featuring my friend Cornelius
and the signs from God were clear and they signaled to us that it was time to return to the Ancient Ways
"we will hold a Choosing," Apocryphina had announced. as the eldest Elder of the village, her word was as good as law. "we will do it in the Ancient Way. if the Soup accepts Rodrigo, we will consecrate him, and he will be Holy Chieftain."
the villagers, overall, seemed thrilled at the prospect. some so much so that they were driven to the point of a rambling, religious hysteria. (i think they are still a little "drunk on the wine of God," if you know what i mean.) even Stradivarius seemed pleased, having come around once the bureaucratic complications that arose from the addition of my seat of office were sorted out (complicated and boring, but will explain later if anyone is interested.)
in contrast, i felt myself coming to resent the idea more and more as the day of the Choosing approached. i did not want to be Holy Chieftain. i did not want to be in charge of the village, responsible for the lives of everyone in it! and anyway, the job was a real bureaucratic nightmare, so there was that too.
"but what if the Soup doesn't... accept you?" asked my friend Cornelius one day while we were hanging out. "what if it rejects you or whatever? does that mean... you're not gonna, like, die, are you?"
and i heard real concern in his voice, for he was my true friend, and dear to me. but the truth was, i did not know what would happen if the Soup did not accept me. if i would die, or... something worse.
or something better, the optimistic part of my brain feebly chimed in. maybe nothing will happen at all, and this Holy Chieftain thing will be over, and everything will go back to the way it was before.
but Cornelius—poor Cornelius; dear, sweet Cornelius—interpreted my silence as confirmation of that which he most feared. and he exclaimed a great exclamation of sorrow, and said: "Rodrigo, you must not do this thing!"
and, with sorrow of my own, i said, "ah, but you are wrong, Cornelius. i must do this thing. above all other things, i must do this thing."
"but why?" Cornelius demanded. "why would you risk your life for—?"
"Cornelius," i cut him off. "this is not the first time i have risked my life in the name of Soup. and i do not think it will be the last."
i looked into Cornelius' eyes, hoping to find some connection there. but all i saw was hurt and anger. and Cornelius looked away from me. and in that moment i felt my heart shatter.
this wretched mission of the Soup God's had already cost me so much. and now it was costing me Cornelius, too.
turning away from him, i said, "you do not understand, Cornelius. you are just a wizard. a god is nothing more than a rune on a rock-face to you. a page in a theurgy text. an item in a list. but my God means something to me, Cornelius. you never have been able to understand that. or maybe you do understand and you just won't accept it. i'm not sure. but i guess the distinction doesn't really matter. the barrier it puts between us is the same either way."
Cornelius looked at me, and i saw by the tightening of the dorsal muscles around his murine snout that he was angry. "you think i'm the reason there's a barrier between us? like it's got nothing to do with your emotional unavailability, or your weird codependent relationship with God, or your stupid obsession with soup!"
a look of regret crossed Cornelius' face the moment the words left his mouth. but he did not backpedal or apologize. he adopted a resigned expression, and maintained his silence.
after a moment i rose from the couch and walked over to the window. i stood with my back to Cornelius, looking out at my yard and the dirt road beyond it, the lemon and olive trees of the village orchards visible in the distance, the outer wall repaired and standing high behind the tree line.
"they would make an Atlas of me, Cornelius," i said. "they would place the world upon my shoulders. and when i cannot bear the weight of it, when it all inevitably comes crashing down, they will point at me and say, 'there is him who failed his charge! everything's wrecked and it's all his fault!'"
"who?" Cornelius asked quietly. "who will say that? who is doing all of this stuff to you, Rodrigo?"
and i turned and looked at him, and my heart was full of bittersweetness. and i said, "everyone but you, my dear Cornelius."
