With the chant, Jonas knew, the community was accepting him andbitcoin euro in tempo reale his new role, giving him life, the way they had given it to the new child Caleb. His heart swelled with gratitude and pride.
Sophie took the cap off the blue bottle and took a large gulp. This juice tasted fresher and sharper than the other. Again everything around her changed suddenly.bitcoin kurs rekordInstantly the effects of the red bottle disappeared and everything slid back to its normal place. Alberto was Alberto, the trees were back in the woods and the water looked like a lake again.
But it only lasted for a second, because things went on sliding away from each other. The woods were no longer woods and every little tree now seemed like a world in itself. The tiniest twig was like a fairy-tale world about which a thousand stories could be told.The little lake suddenly became a boundless ocean-- not in depth or breadth, but in its glittering detail and the intricate patterns of its waves. Sophie felt she might spend a lifetime staring at this water and to her dying day it would still remain an unfathomable mystery.She looked up at the crown of a tree. Three little sparrows were engrossed in a curious game. Was it hide-and-seek? Sophie had known in a way that there were birds in this tree, even after she had drunk from the red bottle, but she had not really seen them properly. The red juice had erased all contrasts and all individual differences.Sophie jumped down from the large flat stone step they were standing on and bent over to look at the grass. There she discovered another new world--like a deep-sea diver opening his eyes under water for the first time. In amongst the twigs and straws of grass, the moss was teeming with tiny details. Sophie watched a spider make its way over the moss, surefooted and purposeful, a red plant louse running up and down a blade of grass, and a whole army of ants laboring in a united effort in the grass. But each tiny ant moved its legs in its own particular manner.The most curious of all was the sight that met her eyes when she stood up again and looked at Alberto, still standing on the front step of the cabin. In Alberto she now saw a wondrous person--he was like a being from another planet, or an enchanted figure out of a fairy tale. At the same time she experienced herself in a completely new way as a unique individual. She was more than just a human being, a fifteen-year-old girl. She was Sophie Amundsen, and only she was that.
"What do you see?" asked Alberto."I see that you're a strange bird.""It is the only way to become a human being. It is the only way to become more than a naked ape ..."
Sophie sat for a while staring into the garden through the little holes in the hedge. She was beginning to understand why it was so important to know about her historical roots. It had certainly been important to the Children of Israel.She herself was just an ordinary person. But if she knew her historical roots, she would be a little less ordinary.She would not be living on this planet for more than a few years. But if the history of mankind was her own history, in a way she was thousands of years old.The Middle Ages
... going only part of the way is not the same as going the wrong wayA week passed without Sophie hearing from Alberto Knox. There were no more postcards from Lebanon either, although she and Joanna still talked about the cards they found in the major's cabin. Joanna had had the fright of her life, but as nothing further seemed to hap-pen, the immediate terror faded and was submerged in homework and badminton.
Sophie read Alberto's letters over and over, looking for some clue that would throw light on the Hilde mystery. Doing so also gave her plenty of opportunity to digest the classical philosophy. She no longer had difficulty in distinguishing Democritus and Socrates, or Plato and Aristotle, from each other.On Friday, May 25, she was in the kitchen fixing dinner before her mother got home. It was their regular Friday agreement. Today she was making fish soup with fish balls and carrots. Plain and simple.Outside it was becoming windy. As Sophie stood stirring the casserole she turned toward the window. The birch trees were waving like cornstalks.Suddenly something smacked against the window-pane. Sophie turned around again and discovered a card sticking to the window.
It was a postcard. She could read it through the glass: "Hilde Moller Knag, c/o Sophie Amundsen."She thought as much! She opened the window and took the card. It could hardly have blown all the way from Lebanon!This card was also dated June 15. Sophie removed the casserole from the stove and sat down at the kitchen table. The card read:Dear Hilde, I don't know whether it will still be your birthday when you read this card. I hope so, in a way; or at least that not too many days have gone by. A week or two for Sophie does not have to mean just as long for us. I shall be coming home for Midsummer Eve, so we can sit together for hours in the glider, looking out over the sea, Hilde. We have so much to talk about. Love from Dad, who sometimes gets very depressed about the thousand-year-long strife between Jews, Christians, and Muslims. I have to keep reminding myself that all three religions stem from Abraham. So I suppose they all pray to the same God. Down here, Cain and Abel have not finished killing each other.
P.S. Please say hello to Sophie. Poor child, she still doesn't know how this whole thing hangs together. But perhaps you do?Sophie put her head down on the table, exhausted. One thing was certain--she had no idea how this thing hung together. But Hilde did, presumably.
If Hilde's father asked her to say hello to Sophie, it had to mean that Hilde knew more about Sophie than Sophie did about Hilde. It was all so complicated that Sophie went back to fixing dinner.A postcard that smacked against the kitchen window all by itself! You could call that airmail!
As soon as she had set the casserole on the stove again, the telephone rang.Suppose it was Dad! She wished desperately that he would come home so she could tell him everything that had happened in these last weeks. But it was probably only Joanna or Mom. Sophie snatched up the phone."Sophie Amundsen," she said."It's me," said a voice.Sophie was sure of three things: it was not her father. But it was a man's voice, and a voice she knew she had heard before."Who is this?"
Sophie was at a loss for words. It was the voice from the Acropolis video that she had recognized."Are you all right?"
"Sure.""From now on there will be no more letters."
"But I didn't send you a frog!""We must meet in person. It's beginning to be urgent, you see.""Why?""Hilde's father is closing in on us."
"Closing in how?""On all sides, Sophie. We have to work together now."
"How...?""But you can't help much before I have told you about the Middle Ages. We ought to cover the Renaissance and the seventeenth century as well. Berkeley is a key figure..."
"Wasn't he the man in the picture at the major's cabin?""That very same. Maybe the actual struggle will be waged over his philosophy."
"You make it sound like a war.""I would rather call it a battle of wills. We have to attract Hilde's attention and get her over on our side before her father comes home to Lillesand.""I don't get it at all.""Perhaps the philosophers can open your eyes. Meet me at St. Mary's Church at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. But come alone, my child."
"So early in the morning?"The telephone clicked.
"Hello?"He had hung up! Sophie rushed back to the stove just before the fish soup boiled over.
St. Mary's Church? That was an old stone church from the Middle Ages. It was only used for concerts and very special ceremonies. And in the summer it was sometimes open to tourists. But surely it wasn't open in the middle of the night?When her mother got home, Sophie had put the card from Lebanon with everything else from Alberto and Hilde. After dinner she went over to Joanna's place.