And Seven knew that it was all right, that everything was all right, always had been all right, that it had only been their own anxieties and doubts that ever made it all seem wrong. They were all couched and safe, forever secure, forever jubilant at the heart of their own beings. There was never anything to be afraid of, if only they trusted the great sweet security that forever held the vitality of their beings, for they were all truly splendid, a part of a loving universe that cradled them forever in a safety and love literally beyond all comprehension.

Seven cried out to Cyprus, “That love is a part of all of us now. I can sense it if I don’t try. Trying makes it difficult, because it’s there all of the time. It’s always here”—Seven smiled incredulously—“or there. Anyhow, it’s everywhere, and it couches and protects the very heart of our beings. So it’s all right. Everything’s all right and always has been.”

And Cyprus answered. “What have I been telling you?”

Seven said aloud to George and Gregory Diggs. “I have to go now, or pretty soon at least. But even if you don’t see me, I’ll be around, and in a way I’ll be a part of each one of you.”

He felt inside his consciousness, and saw Josephine driving more quickly than she should have down the dark streets toward George’s house. “Do take life easier,” he said gently to her. “You’re accomplishing more than you realize, and as I told the others, everything really is all right….” Seven sensed the night air and the smell of lilacs, and knew that Josephine was pulling into the back yard below. He whispered good-bye once again, and Josephine smiled to herself and drove up to George’s garage. She straightened her dress as she got out of the car.

Seven felt a catch in his physical throat. He said to George, “I sort of liked this physical body. The eyes and hands and hair, the ears and all, fit me really well. But I don’t really belong here this way, you know—and I think, George, you’ve always known that in a way. I wish you all the very best of luck, but I’m afraid you won’t remember me. Not consciously. I’ll be around, anyway….” Seven looked at all of them and grinned the best, gayest smile he could conjure up.

Cyprus said gently, “It’s time now, Seven. They won’t remember, but they will.”

“Won’t remember what?” asked George.

“What?” asked Gregory Diggs.

“Gee, I don’t know,” George replied. “I just had the feeling that something important had come and gone, yet not gone. And don’t ask me what the hell I mean by that.”