The Secret (Life, the Universe...)

We were in the desert last week, in our van, and I woke Louisa deep one night to tell her my dream. I had been nominated to be one of the Guardians, that tiny group of people who were entrusted with The Secret of Life and the Universe, to keep The Secret safe, and to pass it on from one generation to the next--sort of Davinci Code set-up (not that I've read it).

So it was time for our arcane group to meet--I think it happens every forty years--in a desert castle under the mountains (think St. Catherine's monastery). There were maybe 100 of us, in our black monks' cowls, hooded, our faces hidden from each other. The wind was blowing against the shuttered windows, and the candles--the only source of illumination--were guttering and sputtering. We all stood expectantly facing the front of huge hall.

An ancient, wizened master appeared, holding in his hands a long wooden box, which he proceeded to unlock. Seven locks, I counted. He withdrew a huge double scroll, like a Torah, and placed it on the lectern where he unrolled it. I could see his rheumy eyes slowly read whatever was written there, then he looked up, about to impart The Secret to us all. We all waited, anxious, expectant. Finally, he spoke.

"We're fucked!"

He rolled the scroll up, put it back in the box, locked the seven locks, and departed. We all turned and walked silently to the door, we Guardians of the Secret.