August 1977
He stood on the corner-- blue eyes blazing, hands on his hips, sandy hair blowing in the wind. Directly across the street from him stood the specter of an old house, ugly in appearance, well beyond any help of preservation. His focus was not on the house, however, but on a car filled with belongings parked in front of it. Four people struggled in and out of the house like an army of ants bearing objects: a man probably in his late thirties, dark hair, eyeglasses sliding to the tip of his nose; a woman, early thirties, dark auburn hair cascading about her shoulders, beautiful green eyes; a young boy full of energy who was probably eight or nine years of age; and a girl he knew full well was probably twelve...her long, dark pony tail bouncing behind her.
"I can’t believe she’s moving in there!" he muttered.
"They are moving in there," a voice beside him said. "It is a choice they made. You are not going to interfere!"
"Well, can’t they see the place is about to fall in!" he exploded. "It’s-- it’s nothing but a fire trap. It isn’t safe. What are they doing, anyway?"
Zarbok sat down beneath a tree
"Xyron, sit down!" she said, and privately wondered how many times she had uttered this phrase to him over the years!
Xyron dropped upon the grass beside her, glowering at the activity across the street.
"Haven’t I told you a thousand times this is her choice, her script. You might as well come with me back to the spirit world and prepare for a new--"
"NO!" he interrupted her, vehemently. Then softening, he added, "I told you I don’t want to do that. I’m happy being just the way I am!"
"You are living in the form of a person who no longer exists...who has not existed now for--" she paused to calculate, "--a long time!"
"So?"
"And I’ve also told you...Regan Marston doesn’t know you. She has no idea who you are. Dasha is living inside her and will not be free until Regan’s script has ended. That script does not end for many years."
"I don’t care. I’m willing to wait it out!" he answered.
"You need to be readying yourself for a new incarnation. You need to be preparing yourself--"
"I don’t want a new incarnation!"
The observers fell silent...Xyron’s angry eyes still fastened upon the activity across the street.
Zarbok shook her head and smiled. Such a pair...twins...created from the same energy source so long, long ago...both young souls filled with too much energy! From the moment of their creation, the two saw only one another and danced across the face of Heaven, laughing, singing, making such a noise. Zarbok was appointed Dasha’s guide; Tandekar was to guide Xyron...but that relationship lasted no time at all. Xyron ran circles around Tandekar and had the poor old guide talking to himself. As a result, Tandekar abdicated his role and sought a tamer soul. And so Zarbok took Xyron under her wing along with Dasha. However, guiding Xyron was a full time job.
"If you hadn’t interfered when she married that guy--" he spluttered.
"Dasha didn’t marry Isaac Marston. Regan Johnson did." Zarbok wondered again how many times she had reminded him of that.
"I intended to march down that aisle and throw her over my shoulder and march her out of there, and--"
"Xyron!" Zarbok was completely exasperated. She remembered seeing him at the back of the church fully preparing to do just that when she caught him by the ear and marched him outside.
"OW!" he yelled. "No one yanks me around by the ear!"
"Well, I just did! Now sit down!"
And they had the same discussion then that they were having now.
The following year provoked another encounter when Xyron discovered that Regan Marston was pregnant and announced he was finally ready for a new incarnation.
"Oh no you don’t!" Zarbok informed him. "You’ve already played out that script a couple of times, and you aren’t going to play it again for a while."
"Aw, come on!" he begged.
Katya...another of Zarbok’s charges--who could sometimes outdistance Xyron on the impossibility scale--occupied the daughter’s role. Xyron did not know Katya, but Zarbok knew that he envied her present incarnation.
"Now listen," Zarbok told him. "I have to leave. I don’t want you interfering or I’m going to make you come with me."
"I’m not going to interfere!" he spluttered. "I’ll keep my hands in my pockets...see?"
"Yes, I know full well how long they are going to stay there. I want you to promise me that you are not going to disturb those people."
He remained silent.