"I didn't ask you to come here for the view," said Ross at one point. "We have urgent matters to discuss concerning Antonovna."

      "Concerning Antonovna?" I repeated. "What connection do you have with Antonovna?"

      "Nothing to worry about," said Ross and grinned. "I have it from reliable sources connected with Nicolai, that she is reconsidering to join Russia's delegation. The spot has not been filled that she had originally declined. It's not for sure, but it looks that way. I just thought you want to know. I am also offering you my help so that things won't get messed up again between the two of you, as they were in Moscow. It appears she is giving you one more chance."

      I looked at Ross in disbelieve. How did he know? How could he possibly know what happened in Moscow? Of course, everybody knew that I had screwed up there, but nobody knew the details. I didn't even know myself what had happened before it was over. To avoid answering Ross, I shifted his attention onto a sleek private jet that had begun descending into the valley from the seaside.

      "You just proved to me that you need help," said Ross quietly. "Obviously you have no idea how badly you did screw up in Moscow, twelve years ago. Do you remember that evening when the two of you had dinner together at the top of the tower? That whole night became a shameful scene of rape!"

      I shuddered to hear those words. "How can you say such a thing?" I said to Ross. "You weren't even there. Nor did the problem start there. That dinner meeting with Anton went extremely well, I thought. I messed things up afterwards."

      "That's what you think, but that isn't what Antonovna told Heather," said Ross and began to grin again. "She met Antonovna in Moscow during her speaking tour with Nicolai. Antonovna described that dinner with you as a two hour long rape. That description also agrees perfectly with what you have just told me right here. For you, I suppose, that dinner meeting probably went extremely well. No doubt you gorged yourself on the riches of her presence. Am I right? You came like a beggar with an empty heart and feasted on her humanity. She was sensitive enough to notice this right at the start. She called you a hero shortly after you arrived at the restaurant, because of what had happened in Venice, but you belittled all the work we have done there, in order to impress her with a false modesty. She sensed dishonesty in that. Nevertheless, she was generous enough to give you the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, things got worse after that."

      "I that's what she told Heather?" I asked Ross.

      Ross laughed and shook his head. "I think Heather, a kind of coaxed this out of her. I don't think either of them knew they were discussing you. Heather realized it eventually when Antonovna told her about your theory. Apparently Antonovna had tried to alert you that you were screwing up. Remember she had asked gently at one point, if you were trying to entice her, and you responded with a lie."

      "I can remember telling her that there was no need to entice her, since she was already in my heart. That was no lie," I said to Ross.

      Ross put a finger over my lips. "Hush, before you incriminate yourself further. What you said was a lie. It was a lie because you could not feel the truth of it. You spoke as a beggar, from a position of emptiness; or else you would not have brought this subject up. You brought the subject up to justify your rape. You were gobbling her up. Storing her away in your mind for all those darker days to come. Then, when she asked you; 'What are you doing?' you replied with a lie. 'Oh, nothing!' you said. This was dishonest."

      "I had been honest, Ross!" I protested. "I even told her about my theory that this statement was based on. I told her about the Christ idea of the divinity of man, which can exist only as a complete idea. I told her that this means, that all human beings have the male and female elements within them, and that consequently, sexual division is not the reality of our being. That was honestly spoken. I understood this then, as I understand it today."

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