The Cross And Pinecone - Part-Three
The Cross And Pinecone Part-Three
By Rod Jones Artist-Writer
From the end of part Two
“John, I can’t believe what I’m looking at. Did you read the title of this book? Of course you did.” If there was such a thing as an enraptured look, it was written all over Mary’s expression. She just stared at the cover and read the words to herself, but John, Claudine, and Jeffrey could see her lips moving. She kept reading the title and other words on the cover repeatedly for the longest time.
After a good two long minutes, Mary looked up at John, “It’s,— It’s, the book, it’s — it’s called: The Cross And The Pinecone. I can’t believe such a book could ever exist.” Mary looked back at the cover of the book and studied it for at least another 30 seconds. Then she looked up at John. Her look this time was a little more serious-minded. “Did you see the name of the author, you must have? This book was written by a woman named Miriam McKinney. John, that’s our last name. I think there was an older couple at our wedding with the name of McKinney.”
Beginning Part Three
John was filled with pride that was all wrapped up in his devotion and love for Mary.
“Mary, in all honesty, I didn’t really pay attention to who the author of this book was. I now see, it’s authored by Miriam McKinney. I didn’t even pay attention to that, but the author has the same last name as us. And it’s ironic that the first name of the author is Miriam, which is kind of like Mary. We never really did find out why both of our last names are McKinney. All I could ever find out is they named you Mary McKinney. I absolutely have no idea how I ended up with the same last name as you. The staff secretary at the orphanage said there was some sort of paper mixup. I never pursued it further. I remember thinking to myself if I were to end up marrying you, Mary, we wouldn’t have to worry about you changing your last name. For some unknown reason to me, even when we were kids, I always thought you and I would get married, very happily married I might add. I don’t think I inwardly wished for that, but now that we are married, well, it’s certainly been a blessing to me. I can’t wait for you to read the book and tell me what it’s all about.”
“OH John, it was meant to be, married we are and married, we will always be. I’m going to take my time reading this book. I can’t imagine a book with a title like, The Cross and The Pinecone, and another thing that’s very interesting, it was written by a woman named Miriam McKinney.”
Nearly a month had passed since Mary celebrated her birthday and the day John gave her the Cross and The Pinecone book, her very special birthday gift. On that day, Mary told John, along with Claudine and Jeffrey Stoots, her bosses from the distillery, that she was going to take her time reading the book. She told everyone that she wanted to absorb every word and explore its deeper meaning, and how that book, with its mysterious title, found its way to her. She very excitedly shared how the author of the book had the same last name as her and her husband.
Claudine and Jeffrey Stoots truly cared deeply for Mary, and of course, John too. In fact, after John and Mary came to work for them at their distillery, they did everything they could for them. When John and Mary announced to them that they wanted to get married, it was Claudine who pulled everything together and made sure they had a wonderful wedding. Two of the guests that showed up were an older couple, and their last name was McKinney. Mary saw Claudine having what appeared to be a serious discussion with them. After the wedding, Mary asked Claudine who that couple was and Claudine basically told her that they were just a nice couple that wanted to go to a wedding and somehow showed up at yours. Claudine was not telling Mary the truth. She knew who they were, in fact, she was the one who invited them to the wedding.
Claudine and her husband Jeffrey knew that it was only a matter of time before Mary re-remembered that couple that showed up at her wedding. Mary was more than curious to find out why they had the same last name as her and her husband.
One evening after all the distillery workers left for the day, including John and Mary, Jeffrey went into the office, sat down across from Claudine and asked her, “Claudine, you and I both know that sooner or later Mary is gonna want to know more about the McKinney’s, why were they at their wedding and who are those folks. They’re especially gonna wanna know why you seem to be having a serious chat with them. I know Mary was watching you from across the room.”
“Quite frankly, Jeffrey, I just don’t know what I’m gonna do. It’s extremely awkward, and now that Mary has that book written by Miriam McKinney she’s gonna be even more curious.”
“Well, I reckon it’s best to just be honest and lay all your cards on the table. Mary ain’t no dumb girl. Quite frankly, I think she needs to know, sure enough, can’t hurt at least I don’t think it can, can it?”
“ You know, I know you’re right Jeffrey. It just seems so awkward, and when John found that book that really made things complicated. But I do know that book is going to be very meaningful to Mary, and in that case I’m very happy for her, and I guess sooner or later the story needs to be told, and I’m not talking about the story in that damn book.”
Jeffrey, leaning back on the chair to the point where he almost fell off, just looked at Claudine with a bit of an awkward smile and said, “ You can bet your last dollar on that one, honey. Best if you just get it all out now. Besides, I think Mary should know. What I would be thinking about is, how is that gonna work out for John? He has no relationships there, other than his last name, which I know when I’ve talked to him privately he can be pretty sore about that especially when he can’t figure out why he and Mary have the same last name, and no one at the orphanage even tried to help him understand.”
“I know youan right Jeffrey. I should start by having a good talk with Mrs. McKinney, probably should speak with both her and her husband. Maybe when we know Mary has gotten a good part of that book read.”
As Mary promised to herself and everyone at her birthday party, she was going to take her time reading The Cross and The Pinecone book. She was doing her best to give John a summary of what she was reading, what she’s learning, and what it means to her spiritually. She desperately wanted to explain to John what she learned by reading, but she herself was trying to understand what the book was really saying, especially the vocabulary it was using.
John was outside of their home, talking to a couple of the other employees from the distillery that also lived on the property. Mostly just idle chitchat, but they wondered why Mary wasn’t coming out after work. They were especially confused with the fact that she wasn’t out walking amongst the trees and selecting what she used to say to everyone, “ I’m hunting down the perfect pinecone.”
John did not know exactly how to tell their fellow employees what she was actually doing. He was pretty sure she would not want to tell anyone about her book and why she was so dedicated to reading it. It became a little bit awkward for John when they wanted to make sure that she wasn’t sick or possibly brooding over an argument that they may have had. At this point, John felt a bit cornered and responded to the fellow employees simply by saying.
“Mary is perfectly healthy and no, we’ve not been arguing. She’s just taking some time for herself to reflect on how she was raised. I decided to give her some space. I know I need it sometimes and I also know you all need it too, so let’s all of us not try to start untruthful rumors. Let the poor girl have some peace and quiet on to herself. Besides, you got me to talk to now. Do any of you have an interesting new joke to tell? Maybe something about the spirits that live in the bottle of spirits that we all fill.
Mary was reading The Cross and the Pinecone book much faster than she intended. In fact, she was running into words that she simply did not know what they meant. She thought to herself, “When I go back to work tomorrow, I gotta ask Claudine if she has one of those dictionaries I can borrow.”
Mary heard the door open and she knew it was John. She closed the book and put it down in front of her, still holding it with both hands. She knew John was going to ask her, “How is it goin?”
John closed the door behind him, and before it was completely shut, he looked over at Mary and predictably said to her, “How is it going Mary? I see you have the book closed in front of you, is it going OK?”
“Yes, I guess so. I don’t understand a lot of the words. I don’t know what they mean. I’m going to ask Claudine if she has a Dictionary I can borrow.”
“That seems like a really good idea Mary, but is there anything you’ve learned in what you’ve read so far?”
“Well, I’ve read further into the book that I intended to. The more I read the more questions I had, but I guess that’s because I didn’t understand a lot of the words. The person that wrote this book, Miriam McKinney had something to do with the new thought movement. I guess that started in the early 1900s. After I got through those chapters, the book started to get closer to what I really wanted to learn. It seems like there is a strong connection between pine trees, the Bible, and apparently Christian teachings. There’s also mention of the pineal gland, which I guess is in our brain somehow. I don’t know if I will ever be able to understand everything in this book. I did learn that pinecones can represent rebirth or resurrection. I’m still trying to figure all that out. I may need to have someone help me better understand what I’m reading. I’m sure that will come over time.”
John sat down by Mary at the table and gave her a hug. “I wish I was smart, I wish I was smart enough to help you get through this book. But maybe the person who wrote it, meant for it to be something that you learn by simply reading it but maybe reading it over time you know, kind of like the Bible. What you know is, I’m not all that familiar with it, and I know you are not either. That wasn’t something we were really taught when we were growing up. I remember every once in a while, a preacher would visit the orphanage and talk to us, but I didn’t really pay much attention and I didn’t really understand or probably appreciate what the heck he was saying. Maybe we both should have.”
Morning came early; especially for Mary. She did not sleep all that well cause she kept thinking about the book. Her and John had their morning coffee and some breakfast, they didn’t really speak all that much. Mary was deep in self-reflective thoughts. Reading The Cross And The Pinecone made her realize that she really did not have much of a religious upbringing. The book made her feel very self-conscious because she could not truly understand some of the words that she was reading and she did not know how they should be thought about.
John and Mary walked over to the distillery, and went to their workstations. Mary’s intention was to go to Claudine‘s office during a break and find out if she could borrow a Dictionary.
Mary took her break and went into Claudine’s office and asked her if she had a Dictionary she could borrow? “Yes Mary, of course, let me get it for you.
I do want to tell you something that I have been looking for the right time to share with you. You know the older couple that was at your wedding. The one that has the last name as you, and they also have the last name of the woman who wrote the book you’re reading. Maybe when you get off of work you can come to my office and we’ll have a nice little talk about all of that.”
This is the end of part 3. Part one and part two can be read easily in the newsletter at:
I will be making the entire story available in a special area on my newsletter. Once it’s completed there you will be able to read the story in its entirety.
The short stories and essays that appear on the Thought Row Vignettes newsletter are written entirely by me, Rod Jones, Artist‑Writer, with human hand and imagination, no AI assistance. Any imperfections in grammar or punctuation are authentically mine. In a web where automated systems now generate much of the content, this is a small space for human‑made fiction and reflection, one human sharing stories with another.