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Occasionally, a dream might contain minor variations or a stray additional detail, but they always featured the intense sense of desperation. It was this vivid intensity that disturbed Peter, the authenticity in Maureen’s descriptions. It was intangible, something that was triggered by the Holy Land itself, a feeling Peter had first encountered himself while studying in Jerusalem. It was a sense of getting very close to the ancient — and the divine.
    After her return from the Holy Land, Maureen spent many long-distance telephone hours speaking with Peter, who at the time was teaching in Ireland. His confident and independent cousin was beginning to question her own sanity, and the intensity and frequency of the dreams was beginning to trouble Peter. He applied for a transfer to Loyola, knowing it would be granted immediately, and boarded a plane for Los Angeles to be closer to his cousin.
    Four years later, he wrestled with his thoughts and with his conscience, unsure of the best way to help Maureen now. He wanted to take her to see some of his superiors in the Church, but he knew she would never consent to that. Peter was the last link she allowed herself to her once-Catholic background. She trusted him only because he was family — and because he was the only person in her life who had never let her down.
    Peter sat up, giving in to the understanding that sleep would elude him this night — and he was trying not to think about the pack of Marlboro’s in the drawer of the nightstand. He had tried to stave off this particular bad habit — indeed, it was one of the reasons he chose to live alone in an apartment and not in Jesuit housing. But the stress was too much for him, and he yielded to this spot of sin. Lighting a cigarette, he exhaled deeply and contemplated the issues facing Maureen.
    There had always been something special about his petite, feisty American cousin. When she had first arrived in Ireland with her mother she was a scared and lonely seven-year-old with a bayou drawl. Eight years her senior, Peter took Maureen under his wing, introducing her to the local children in the village — and providing black eyes for anyone who dared make fun of the newcomer with the funny accent.
    But it didn’t take long for Maureen to assimilate into her new environment. She healed rapidly from the traumas of her past in Louisiana as the mists of Ireland enveloped her in welcome. She found refuge in the countryside. Peter and his sisters took her on long walks, showing off the beauty of the river and warning her of the pitfalls in the bogs. They all spent long summer days picking the blackberries that grew wild on the family farm and playing soccer until the sun went down. In time, the local kids accepted her as she became more comfortable with her surroundings and allowed her true personality to emerge.
    Peter had often wondered about the definition of the word “charisma” as it was used in the supernatural context of the early church:
charism, a divinely bestowed gift or power.
Perhaps it applied to Maureen more literally and profoundly than any of them had ever dreamed. He kept a journal of his discussions with her, had done so since those first long-distance phone calls, where he logged his own insights on the meaning of the dreams. And he prayed daily for guidance — if Maureen had been chosen by God to perform some task related to the time of the passion, which he was increasingly certain she was witnessing in her dreams, he would indeed require maximum guidance from his Creator. And his Church.
    Château des Pommes Bleues

The Languedoc region of France

October 2004
    “ ‘M ARIE DE N EGRE shall choose when the time is come for The Expected One. She who is born of the paschal lamb when the day and night are equal, she who is a child of the resurrection. She who carries the Sangre-el will be granted the key upon viewing the Black Day of the Skull. She will become the new Shepherdess and show us The Way.’