What can I say about Stephen? He’s always there, always at the periphery of my life. A reassuring presence in my screwed up life. Sometimes that lanky frame may be there in body; chin resting on long fingers but his mind is elsewhere following the script in the books he always has clutched before him. Oh he’ll use new technology, true, but give him a stinking old tome any day. Preferably made of vellum.
He says little but sees everything with those calm brown eyes. He is rarely pushed to show outward emotion. When I need him he always comes. It may take him a little time to find me but he always comes through. Stephen is a good man who will not be moulded or coerced into anyone’s designs.
Which is what fascinates me about Stephen so much. Why me? Why defy his spiritual leader, his greatest teacher, his own father to protect and shelter me like he has done this past six years?
Saint Stephen, the Martyr
He never explains and I’ve learned to be content with that.
What I do know is that I love him. He is my brother. My only constant.
I don’t know if he would die for me.
I’m not sure I’d die for him. I’d kind of hoped that we’d never have to find out.
Preposterous name. Sexist, misogynistic, and completely un-universal if there is such a term. Blake half understood it when he wrote of the Four Zoa’s:
Four Mighty Ones are in every Man: a perfect Unity
Cannot exist but from the Universal Brotherhood of Eden,
The Universal Man, to Whom be glory evermore. Amen.
What are the Natures of those Living Creatures the Heavenly Father only
Knoweth: no Individual knoweth, nor can know in all Eternity
I suspect Elijah sees himself as Albion, the Universal Man who stands astride his own Eden as depicted as a landed English estate (blame Stephen for the imagery. For our first Christmas together he gave me the complete works of William Blake. My father preferred Dante). He even has the tweeds. Mind, as pretty as our corner of Northumberland is and despite the abundance of apple trees, I’m not sure it is quite an Eden. There are those that would argue. Stephen likes to argue, particularly about Brotherhood doctrine and history. I understood very quickly why he and my father had been such fast friends; their main difference being that my father would have taken the time as a scholar to explain things patiently to me. Stephen just gives me a Dewey Decimal number and sends me to the library.