The Twelfth Fold ----------------
"Pres-e-e-en-t ARMS!"
Flinching as the balustrade of gun fire echoed away into the distance but also stayed, bouncing around inside her, Scully willed the service to end.
Two Servicemen, straight backed and young with faces set in appropriate carvings of honor and respect, stepped forward and began the ceremonial folding of the flag.
Though Mulder, in every way her partner in life, had served his country as an agent of the FBI and not as a man of the military, his funeral, his death, had been one of service to his country and his fellow man.
Their hands crossing this way and that, Scully counted and recited the number of each fold in her mind, her tears unstoppable but her body stone in its reserve and determination to stand tall and strong for him. Like his love had been for her.
A third man, in military garb and a white collar, spoke:
"The first fold of the flag - a symbol of life."
"The second fold, a symbol of belief in the eternal."
"The third fold made in honor and remembrance of the veteran departing our ranks who gave a portion of his life for the defense of country; to attain a peace throughout the world."
Skinner, Director now, had arranged the memorial service. "It is the least they can do for him." He had said to her in the car. And she had held his hand for his strength had been the only thing holding her up.
Skinner's only nine words said that day but what a mouthful of truth.
Mulder, finally, after twenty years of self sacrifice (the loss of respectable career, the lives of his whole family, and then, inevitably, the ruin of his own health), had found and presented to those ruling parties undeniable proof of the exist- ence of extraterrestrials.
And alongside his irrefutable physical evidence, now under microscope and lock and key in scientific labs around the globe, he had exposed those clandestine operators who had held the very same knowledge for years, foolishly keeping it to themselves for their own agenda of greed and self preservation.
"The fourth fold represents humanity's weaker nature, for as American citizens trusting in God, it is to Him humanity must turn in times of peace as well as in times of war for to receive His divine guidance."
Out of habit, Scully said a rosary while her heart ached incessantly. While she herself felt as if she would fold up and turn to dust.
All was now known and a plan was underway to prepare for the coming invasion the secret operators insisted was imminent. Whether the world was up to it was another matter.
"The fifth fold, a tribute to country, for in the words of Stephen Decatur, "Our country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong.
"The sixth fold for where hearts lie. It is with the heart that allegiance is pledged to the flag, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
How many times had they failed him, Scully asked posterity furiously, as he accepted scorn and ridicule and took on his scarred back knowledge none other had the guts to face?
"The seventh fold - a tribute to the Armed Forces."
These service men, Scully thought. And even greater men like Mulder.
"Forces that protect country and flag against all enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of the republic."
Mostly _without_, Scully mused.
The eighth fold came and her heart cried out against it.
"The eighth Fold, a tribute to the one who has entered in to the valley of the shadow of death, that all might see the light of day, and to honor mother, for whom it flies on mother's day."
Scully's tears flowed long and silent.
Then, suddenly, laughing inside as the ninth fold was made, she wondered what sort of joke Mulder might at that moment be circulating around the Halls of St. Peter?
"The ninth fold, a tribute to womanhood. For it has been through their faith, love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and women who have made this country great have been molded."
Scully wondered if she had touched his character? Molded him?
"The tenth fold is a tribute to father, for he, too, has given his sons and daughters for the defense of our country since they were first born."
The giving away of daughters and sons indeed. Sometimes, the shortsighted perverted use of them. Occasionally, the heartless waste of them.
"The eleventh fold, in the eyes of a Hebrew citizen, represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon, and glorifies, in their eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob."
Scully had not prayed since news of Mulder had reached her. She had not looked to the God of Abraham for comfort or guidance through the new land of her life devoid of that precious portion, the son of William.
Instead she had become like the Wife of Lot, looking back in longing, despairing the loss of him, her soul turning as bitter as sea salt.
"The twelfth fold, in the eyes of the Christian citizen, represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in their eyes, God the Father, the Son, and Holy Ghost."
The Twelfth Fold. Stars. Visible, eternal things. So beautiful.
Mulder was like that. He _was_ that.
The priest was almost done. Only one more thing for him to say:
"Now, when the flag is completely folded, the stars shall be uppermost, reminding us of our national motto, "In God we Trust."
Time would answer that challenge for her.
Scully herself had that and only that left: to find purpose in life because, without Mulder, it seemed lifeless. Hurtful, angry and jealous. Yes, jealous! Something she felt toward God for taking Mulder from her before she'd had her full turn. Her fill of him.
For Mulder had done that, filled her to the brim. Like light filled precious crystal and made it beautiful. Like water filled the ocean bottom and stars the firmament above, both then having complements. Two parts together, and both complete.
She supposed somehow, if she tried hard enough, remembered him often enough, remembered how life-fulfilling he had been to her, she could find a way to forgive God.
A tall man, Skinner, was handing her the folded flag, it's white stars against the royal blue silk; the day lit sky and the night's most potent and eternal beauty, all in the palm of her hand.
Scully touched it gently, with fingers of remembrance, vibrating with grief, and with a mind filled with once upon a time pictures of him. Mulder alive and hers.
Now living but God's.
Somehow she would bear with dignity and strength this last and most glorious symbol of him.
"Holding you in peace forever, Mulder. Go with God."
*
END GenieVB@home.com