Fred might have seen Ross' discovery also as an answer to the enormous challenges the whole world was increasingly facing in our age of the ever-present potential for a nuclear war, which we had once boldly faced, but without avail. There had been times in times past when things had been moving with lightning speed for us, so that a solution seemed just around the corner. But the coveted solution was never attained. Eventually we simply stopped fighting like Goya's donkey that one finds standing serenely and oblivious amidst the hubbub stirred by a giant colossus. The scene is that of the great 1808 painting by the Spanish artist Francisco Goya with the title, The Colossus. Goya had painted the scene of a society in great turmoil overshadowed by a giant person representing war, or more precisely, Napoleon's war. Everyone was scurrying to escape, except the donkey. The donkey simply stood his place calmly with a serene tolerance caused by an indifference that comes from a mind that was too blind to see the danger that was hidden above the clouds, but which the thunder spoke of. We had become the perfect replicas of that donkey until Ross' discovery. And that had happened a year ago. It started like a dream then.

      It might also have been in part Fred's own inability to respond to our dilemma of living like replicas of that donkey, which may have caused Fred to stay away from us for those past years. Now Ross' discovery appeared to have given him an inspiration, the kind of inspiration that sometimes comes with the Christmas season.



      Fred arrived unexpected that Christmas, almost as if he aimed to revive the old tradition. He had always arrived unexpected in the past, often for a brief visit between Christmas and New Year. That's how he arrived again that day. He simply showed up one blustery morning, casually with a cheerful, "Merry Christmas," flowing from his lips, as if the intervening years had been simply erased. We had all come together that day at Ross' place, Tony, Sylvia, and I. Heather had invited us over. Our getting together for Christmas had been one of the few traditions that we had maintained, which Heather had encouraged us to keep alive, perhaps in the hope that we would somehow get out of our rut and revive what had become dormant. Fred arrived at Ross' door that very day carrying a bag of small presents, just as he had always done. He acted as if nothing had changed, and in the same manner, Heather greeted him with a kiss.

      "Wow!" said Fred with a smile. "Something HAS changed."



      I couldn't help wondering if Ross had something to do with Fred's visit. I knew that he had been talking with him about his research and my involvement with it. But did he also tell him about the New World that had emerged on the horizon as the result of his discoveries? Or did Fred come to us on a hunch, or merely in another attempt to search for an answer to this puzzle that we had become for him. If so, Christmas did provide a perfect opportunity.

      Whatever his reasons were, Fred didn't mention them, but he did speak to Ross at length, or rather Ross commandeered his attention. It started with a simple question by Fred. "How big is big?" Fred asked.

      "How extensive is your knowledge of History?" Ross asked Fred in return. The question must have seemed like an insult since Fred was the champion among us in this field. Ross asked the question, but he continued as if he didn't expect an answer. Ross did most of the talking.



      It certainly was good to have Fred with us again. Ross had motioned Fred to make himself comfortable in his 'traditional' reclining chair by the fireplace, the one facing the window and the sea. Fred smiled at the gesture, though obviously, he hadn't come to visit us to look at the sea. He was looking at Ross.

     "When did the Civil War end?" asked Ross.

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Stories about  Love from novels by Rolf A. F. Witzsche