Undivided

Say good-bye to unwinding, and hello to a you that’s truly you!

75 • Gatherings

The granite and marble markers of history hold memories that can’t be unwound, especially so, the monuments of Washington, DC. They have witnessed change and stagnation, glorious feats of justice, as well as shameful failures of democracy. Lincoln’s and Jefferson’s eyes have seen great strides in Martin Luther King’s dream, and have welcomed him as he strides forward in stone between them. Yet those same unblinking eyes have seen Vietnam War protesters teargassed, and thousands tranq’d during the first teen uprising. None of these things can they forget any more than the war memorials can forget the names they so solemnly bear.

A gathering begins to form before those vigilant eyes during the last few days of October. Airlines scramble to add flights to their schedules, the metro is at constant capacity, and vehicular traffic within the capital ensures that walking is the fastest way to get anywhere aboveground.

The grassy expanse of the National Mall begins to speckle with tents in a slow but relentless occupation days before the actual event, which, as it is scheduled for November first, has been dubbed by the media as the “All Saint’s Uprising.”

From Capitol Hill the portent couldn’t be more ominous than the obsidian-dark wall of a thunderstorm rolling in from the Chesapeake Bay.

•  •  •

Far to the west, there is another, smaller gathering. This one on a commune outside of Omaha, Nebraska. The gathering is a wedding—a bittersweet one at best, because of the parties involved. Una Jacali will wed Wil Tashi’ne in the only way she can.

The Arápache council forbade it to be done on tribal land. The Tashi’nes, although they love Una dearly, could not support it either, and chose not to attend.

It was Lev who came to Una’s aid, and suggested that a revival commune—a place dedicated to the virtual union of someone divided—would be openminded when it came to Una’s concept of “divisional matrimony.” And Lev knew just the guy to ask.

As it turned out, CyFi and his dads were more than happy to not only provide the venue, but also to track down the beneficiaries of Wil Tashi’ne’s parts—a task much easier now that every last rabbit hole of Proactive Citizenry’s database has been opened to public scrutiny.

Not all of Wil’s parts would come, but enough agreed. Perhaps they agreed to come out of curiosity, or for the novelty, or just for the chance to meet Camus Comprix, who is expected to be among them. All told, there will be twenty-seven grooms, representing almost two-thirds of Wil Tashi’ne. That a number of the grooms will be women seems little more than par for the course.

“True, the course is about as surreal as an Escher staircase,” one of CyFi’s dads pointed out, “but what’s life without a little vertigo?”

76 • Lev

“I gotta tell ya, Fry, you really did a number on yourself with those tattoos—and that fur hat just ain’t working.”

Lev peels the kinkajou from his head, where he often goes, but rarely pees anymore. Lev lets him cling to his shoulder instead. “First of all,” Lev tells CyFi, “they’re not numbers, they’re names; and second, don’t insult Mahpee, or he might claw your eyes out.”

“What? Little umber Elmo got claws?”

Lev smiles. It’s good to see CyFi again, even if it is under unusual circumstances. Of course, any circumstances are better than when they last saw each other.

“So, I hear you got a girlfriend,” teases CyFi.

“Kind of, I think. It’s a long-distance thing,” Lev tells him. “She’s gone back to Indiana with her family, but I’m still on the Rez in Colorado.”

CyFi raises his eyebrows. “Could be worse, if you catch my drift.”

The sun comes out from behind a stray cloud, lighting up the garden. As the day is unseasonably warm, it was decided to have the wedding outside, within the circle of stones at the garden’s center, the participants within the circle, and the guests standing just outside of it. With no tradition for this sort of thing, rules and structure are all spur-of-the-moment. Right now all the “grooms” mill around the i

Then, just before the ceremony begins, Lev hears a familiar voice behind him.

“I swear, I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you doing something crazy.”

He turns to see Co

“Whoa,” says Co

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Lev says, finally catching his breath. But as he looks at Co

“What happened?” Lev asks.

Co

Lev accepts it without further question, knowing that with Co

“Well, the important thing is that you’re here,” Lev says. And then he realizes something. “But . . . why are you here?”

“To see you, of course,” Risa tells him. “Cyrus told me you’d be here.” Then she turns to CyFi. “Hi, Cyrus. Good to see you again.”

“Wait a second,” says Lev. “You two know each other?”

But before Risa can answer, a guitar begins to play, and Lev gasps—almost going into a coughing fit again—because he recognizes the music right away. That’s Wil playing! Lev turns to see Camus Comprix sitting in the center of the circle—one of the few grooms actually wearing a tuxedo. More so than ever, he expresses Wil’s soulful music so perfectly, Lev could swear Wil is really there.

In a moment Una comes down from the main house, flowers and ribbons woven into her long hair and wearing a traditional native gown. She doesn’t smile, but maintains an unreadable expression that speaks of more emotions than can possibly mix.

She enters the circle, and in front of the minister, Cam takes Una’s hand. But when the time comes, it’s someone else, a man with Wil’s voice, who speaks the vows, and Una looks into the eyes of yet another when she says hers. And although she exchanges rings with Cam, when the minister says, “You may now kiss the bride,” that honor goes to someone else entirely. Lev finds his internal compass spi

“That’s going to be one crowded wedding bed,” says Co