Once more Gud walked along the Impossible Curve, which had now become
more impossible than ever.
Gud was lonely, for he missed his faithful companion, the Underdog, whom
he had sold into slavery. His heart was filled with grief, and remorse
preyed upon his soul, and Gud resolved never again to be ungrateful and
never to be unkind, and to grant to all creatures their wishes and to
help them to realize their hearts' desires and make their dreams come
true.
In his sorrow and loneliness Gud walked on until his feet were sore and
he was athirst. Then he came to a flowing fountain of pure water. He
paused and kneeled at the fountain. When he had quenched his thirst, he
removed his sandals and bathed his feet in the stream that flowed from
the fountain.
Then Gud laid himself down by the fountain and fell asleep, and dreamed
that a beautiful bubble appeared on the surface of the fountain.
The bubble which Gud saw in his dream was iridescent with a great
iridescence; for the colors of the bubble were many and they were ever
changing, so that it was never twice alike.
In the iridescence of the bubble Gud saw the essence of transcendent
beauty, for its beauty was as the beauty of youth, and as the beauty of
faith, and as the beauty of love, and as the beauty of a woman, when she
is young and has faith and a longing for more love than she has found.
As Gud looked upon the beauty of the bubble, he saw that it was no
longer a bubble, for it had become a woman of flesh and blood, and hope
and love and beauty. And he saw that she looked upon him with faith and
trust. This pleased Gud, so he spoke in his dream to the woman of his
dream and said: "Who art thou and what wouldst thou of me?"
And the woman replied, "Oh, Gud, I am a searcher after mysteries that
have not been revealed and things which can not be understood. And I am
sore distressed because I have looked and have found them not."
Gud asked, "Have you looked into the mind of man?"
"I have looked into the mind of man," replied the woman, "and it is very
simple."
Again Gud asked: "Have you looked into the heart of woman?"
She replied to Gud and said: "Into the heart of woman have I also
looked, and though it is not so simple, yet do I understand it, for am I
not a woman?"
"Of a truth you are a woman, and you are very beautiful."
And she smiled upon Gud, and when she smiled, he vowed that he would
grant her all her wishes and the fulfillment of all her dreams.
But first he would know who she was, and so he spoke to her again and
said: "Of a truth, and who art thou?"
And she of the iridescent beauty, which is the beauty that is ever
changing, made answer to Gud: "Of a truth, great Gud, I am no other than
the reader of this book which two men are writing about you."
"What's this?" asked Gud, for he was much amazed, albeit not displeased,
to hear that Hersey and I were writing this book about him.
And the iridescent woman said again, "I am the reader of 'The Book of
Gud,' which Dan Spain and Harold Hersey are writing about you."
"How do you know they are writing it?"
"I know," said the woman, "because it is common gossip in the Village,
for every one there gossips about anything Hersey has a hand in."
"Where is this village?" asked Gud, "and who is this Hersey creature?"
"The Village," she replied, "where Hersey burns his wee small flame, is
South of Fourteenth Street and West of University Place, in the City of
New York, which is the Gateway to the Melting Pot of the Planet Earth in
the Solar System of the Universe."
"Which universe?" asked Gud.
"My universe," said the woman.
"It must be a nice one, but what do you wish that I should do for you?"
"What I wish," said she (who is none other than the reader of this book)
"is to find some great mystery in art or literature or in some psychic
science; and I wish that you would inspire these men to put something
into 'The Book of Gud' that no one can understand."
"I will look into the matter," said Gud. And he did.... Then he looked
again into the iridescent eyes of the ever-changing woman and said to
her: "It is useless, for I have searched the soul of that fellow Spain
and he is not an inspired writer but only a disgruntled hack who could
not possibly write anything that you could not understand."
Whereupon the woman was vexed with disappointment so that she began to
weep, and in the small compass of each tear she shed was the iridescence
of a tiny rainbow. As Gud saw her tears, that they were beautiful, his
heart overflowed with tenderness, and he said with a gentle voice: "I
will try again."
And now Gud searched the soul of Hersey. His search was not without
reward and when he returned again to the beautiful woman she ceased to
weep, for in his hand she saw that Gud held a poem. Seating himself
beside her, he read her this poem that Hersey had written in the white
heat of inspiration: