The Celestine Prophecy
An Experiential GuideBy James RedfieldWarner Books
Copyright ©1995 James Redfield
All right reserved.ISBN: 9780446671224Chapter One
A Critical Mass I drove up to the restaurant and parked, then leaned back in my seat to think for a moment. Charlene, I knew, would already be inside, waiting to talk with me. But why? I hadn't heard a word from her in six years. Why would she have shown up now, just when I had sequestered myself in the woods for a week?
I stepped out of the truck and walked toward the restaurant. Behind me, the last glow of a sunset sank in the west and cast highlights of golden amber across the wet parking lot. Everything had been drenched an hour earlier by a brief thunderstorm, and now the summer evening felt cool and renewed, and because of the fading light, almost surreal. A half moon hung overhead.
As I walked, old images of Charlene filled my mind. Was she still beautiful, intense? How would time have changed her? And what was I to think of this manuscript she had mentioned-this ancient artifact found in South America that she couldn't wait to tell me about?
"I have a two-hour layover at the airport," she had said on the telephone. "Can you meet me for dinner? You're going to love what this manuscript says-it's just your kind of mystery."
My kind of mystery? What did she mean by that?
Inside, the restaurant was crowded. Several couples waited for tables. When I found the hostess, she told me Charlene had already been seated and directed me toward a terraced area above the main dining room.
I walked up the steps and became aware of a crowd of people surrounding one of the tables. The crowd included two policemen. Suddenly, the policemen turned and rushed past me and down the steps. As the rest of the people dispersed, I could see past them to the person who seemed to have been the center of attention-a woman, still seated at the table ... Charlene!
I quickly walked up to her. "Charlene, what's going on? Is anything wrong?"
She tossed her head back in mock exasperation and stood up, flashing her famous smile. I noticed that her hair was perhaps different, but her face was exactly as I remembered: small delicate features, wide mouth, huge blue eyes.
"You wouldn't believe it," she said, pulling me into a friendly hug. "I went to the rest room a few minutes ago and while I was gone, someone stole my briefcase."
"What was in it?"
"Nothing of importance, just some books and magazines I was taking along for the trip. It's crazy. The people at the other tables told me someone just walked in, picked it up, and walked out. They gave the police a description and the officers said they would search the area."
"Maybe I should help them look?"
"No, no. Let's forget about it. I don't have much time and I want to talk with you."
I nodded and Charlene suggested we sit down. A waiter approached so we looked over the menu and gave him our order. Afterward, we spent ten or fifteen minutes chatting in general. I tried to underplay my self-imposed isolation but Charlene picked up on my vagueness. She leaned over and gave me that smile again.
"So what's really going on with you?" she asked.
I looked at her eyes, at the intense way she was looking at me. "You want the whole story immediately, don't you?"
"Always," she said.
"Well, the truth is, I'm taking some time for myself right now and staying at the lake. I've been working hard and I'm thinking about changing directions in my life."
"I remember you talking about that lake. I thought you and your sister had to sell it."
"Not yet, but the problem is property taxes. Because the land is so close to the city, the taxes keep increasing."
She nodded. "So what are you going to do next?"
"I don't know yet. Something different."
She gave me an intriguing look. "Sounds as if you're as restless as everyone else."
"I suppose," I said. "Why do you ask?"
"It's in the Manuscript."
There was silence as I returned her gaze.
"Tell me about this Manuscript," I said.
She leaned back in her chair as if to gather her thoughts, then looked me in the eye again. "I mentioned on the phone, I think, that I left the newspaper several years ago and joined a research firm that investigates cultural and demographic changes for the U.N. My last assignment was in Peru.
"While I was there, completing some research at the University of Lima, I kept hearing rumors about an old manuscript that had been discovered-only no one could give me any of the details, not even at the departments of archeology or anthropology. And when I contacted the government about it, they denied any knowledge whatsoever.
"One person told me that the government was actually working to suppress this document for some reason. Although, again, he had no direct knowledge.
"You know me," she continued. "I'm curious. When my assignment was over, I decided to stay around for a couple of days to see what I could find out. At first, every lead I pursued turned out to be another dead end, but then while I was eating lunch in a cafe outside of Lima, I noticed a priest watching me. After a few minutes, he walked over and admitted that he had heard me inquiring about the Manuscript earlier in the day. He wouldn't reveal his name but he agreed to answer all my questions."
She hesitated for a moment, still looking at me intensely. "He said the Manuscript dates back to about 600 B.C. It predicts a massive transformation in human society."
"Beginning when?" I asked.
"In the last decades of the twentieth century."
"Now?!"
"Yes, now."
"What kind of transformation is it supposed to be?" I asked.
She looked embarrassed for a moment, then with force said, "The priest told me it's a kind of renaissance in consciousness, occurring very slowly. It's not religious in nature, but it is spiritual. We're discovering something new about human life on this planet, about what our existence means, and according to the priest, this knowledge will alter human culture dramatically."
She paused again, then added, "The priest told me the Manuscript is divided into segments, or chapters, each devoted to a particular insight into life. The Manuscript predicts that in this time period human beings will begin to grasp these insights sequentially, one insight then another, as we move from where we are now to a completely spiritual culture on Earth."
I shook my head and raised an eyebrow cynically. "Do you really believe all this?"
"Well," she said. "I think ...
"Look around,? I interrupted, pointing at the crowd sitting in the room below us. "This is the real world. Do you see anything changing out there?"
Just as I said that, an angry remark erupted from a table near the far wall, a remark I couldn't understand, but which was loud enough to hush the entire room. At first I thought the disturbance was another robbery, but then I realized it was only an argument. A woman appearing to be in her thirties was standing up and staring indignantly at a man seated across from her.
"No," she yelled. "The problem is that this relationship is not happening the way I wanted! Do you understand? It's not happening!" She composed herself, tossed her napkin on the table, and walked out.
Charlene and I stared at each other, shocked that the outburst had occurred at the very moment we were discussing the people below us. Finally Charlene nodded toward the table where the man remained alone and said, "It's the real world that's changing."
"How?" I asked, still off balance.
...
