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Nine ..my soul hath power to know all things, Yet is she blind and ignorant in all. Sir John Davies Jill left before Christmas. The holiday season was one of the busiest times at the Lodge, and Ted took on extra shifts at work, leaving himself less time to think, or hurt. But the hour always came when he couldn’t ignore his loneliness. Ques- tions and doubts crowded him, borne for the first time from his heart as well as his mind. How did a God work, he won- dered, with angels who could make such a colossal, messy mistake? How could a loving God choose to bind him, his very soul, to a woman who would bring such misery upon them both? The obsession was broken, the angels had failed. Throughout the winter, Ted withdrew, isolated in his own thoughts, coming to terms with the meaning of betrayal and loss. He had little contact with his friends and sought instead a world beyond the human. There were always the moun- tains, ringing the valley like monuments to calm endurance, and for Ted they were a place of healing. In time, then, he came back to himself. The pain matured into experience, and Ted was able to rejoin the social world of the Lodge with renewed gusto. His good humor returned, but there was a new seriousness belying it and new questions that Ted could not yet formulate. All he knew for sure was that things in the world were capable of illusion. Things could appear to be one way yet in reality be something alto- gether different. Cement could look like redwood. Like Jill’s love. Like the soulmating of the angels. The loyalty of a The Child - Nine friend. He knew the world was not what he saw with his senses, but he didn’t know what lay beyond or behind it. And he didn’t know how to find out. Still, with all the recuperative qualities of health and a strong spirit, Ted got back into the swing of parties and friends. He skied down the winter slopes as often as he could get away from the job. He quit thinking about Jill every day, pushing it all farther and farther behind him, until at last the ache felt dim and remote. His friends welcomed back the old Ted, and he threw himself into everything, including his work, with a zest. In addition to his room-service employment, he was frequently hired out by the Lodge to cater private parties for some of the valley’s most prestigious guests. There, winter was a time of non-stop social gatherings, and everyone who was anyone, from movie stars to international tycoons, gave at least one big bash before the season ended. One of the most genial families wintering in Sun Valley were the owners of a pharmaceutical company, whose large chalet was a crown jewel of the resort area. And when their turn came to host the big party, they hired the Lodge caterers. Ted was one of a dozen employees sent to the chalet, all dressed in their best uniforms. His job was to serve drinks to the hundred or so guests gathered at the luxurious home, and his buddy Robert tended the bar. As Ted brought in the drink orders, he noticed that several guests asked for a drink that looked quite enticing, garnished with an orange slice and a cherry. They called it an Old Fashioned, something Ted had never heard of, and he thought it looked delicious. “What’s that taste like?” he asked Robert as he loaded another round of glasses on the tray. “Super,” Robert said. “You want me to fix you one?” “I’m not supposed to drink while I’m working,” Ted replied hesitantly, eying the glasses. “Who’s going to know?” Robert smiled. “Here, I'll fix it, and you just set the glass out of the way somewhere. Then you can sneak over for a sip whenever you’re not busy. Scotch or bourbon?” Masquerade of Angels B