Canary Island Song

by Robin Jones Gunn

  “Guts?” Tikki ventured.

  “Yes, that’s close. Most women cannot dance with this sort of passion in their gut because they have not loved enough or lived enough or lost enough to know this depth.”

  Before Carolyn could process that thought, her mother went on to say, “We’re going to concentrate on the feet now. We will move only the feet. Our hands, she said, must stay here, at the waist.”

  “Cinco paseos,” Lydia said, and Carolyn’s mother echoed, “Five steps.”

  Carolyn followed the steps with her left foot lunging forward, then she stepped to the side with her right, then forward and to the other side and then back. As she pounded the floor in her practical, black, slip-on shoes, she realized her steps were too big. Her feet weren’t straight. She was clomping about instead of sliding from position to position. Tikki and Carolyn’s mom seemed to pick up the steps more readily, which was no surprise.

  “No, no, no.” Lydia stopped and pointed to Carolyn’s feet and tapped her right leg so that Carolyn would begin with the right, not the left. Lydia demonstrated once more, and Carolyn tried again and fumbled again. She let out her frustration in a growl.

  “Tranquila, Carolyn,” Lydia said with complete calm and a motion for Carolyn to breathe. “Tranquila.” She continued her instructions in softly spoken Spanish, making small gestures with her lovely hands.

  “She is saying these five steps embody the journey of life. We begin always with the right. One step to the right, followed by the left foot coming along behind. Then the left foot moves back to where it began, and the sympathetic right foot follows the left foot halfway with a small step. And then with confidence the right foot follows the rest of the way to the left foot with the fifth step. This is made lightly and with confidence.”

  Lydia stood tall and straight in the final position, as Carolyn’s mother said, “And we end up back where we began, but we are wiser and more experienced because of the steps we have traveled.”

  “I love this!” Tikki said. “This is my life right now. I need to return home wiser and more experienced, that’s for sure.”

  The three women went through the cinco paseos again. Carolyn knew her shoulders had slumped, and her head had jutted forward and was bobbing along after each step. She knew that nothing about her position, posture, or pace looked anything like her instructor’s. But she was trying. She was going through the motions. That had to count for something.

  Lydia stopped. She stepped closer to Carolyn. A deep passion blazed in Lydia’s fiery eyes. With a swirl of faithfully rolled “r’s,” Lydia expressed herself as if she were imparting to Carolyn the ancient secret of life and womanhood.

  “She is telling you that in life, it is not enough just to do the steps. You cannot merely go through the motions. You must dance from the stomach up. The way you are moving, she says you are a loose woman. This is no way to dance or live.”

  “A loose woman?” Tikki teased Carolyn, giving her a pat on the side. “You hide it so well.”

  Lydia placed one open palm on Carolyn’s stomach and the other on the small of Carolyn’s back. She pressed firmly on the soft flesh that Carolyn kept hidden behind the tummy control panel of her jeans.

  Carolyn’s mother explained Lydia’s stream of words. “She is telling you that this is where life happens within you as a woman. In your stomach. In your gut. It is here, in this deep place, where a woman invites her husband and where her babies are cradled before they are born. This is where she nurtures and brings forth new life. Here is where a woman holds all her secrets and hides her hurts and her dreams. Your dance must come from this same place. From the stomach up. When you dance like that, then you will begin to live like a Woman of the Canaries.”

  “Oh, that was beautiful.” Tikki rounded back her shoulders and drew in her stomach. “I love that. From the stomach up. Come on, Mom, you loose woman, you, we can do this.”

  Carolyn placed her hands on her sides and pulled in her stomach muscles. Lydia stepped away and gave a nod for her to begin. With her chin up and leading with the right foot, Carolyn and Tikki began in sync, taking each step from the stomach up. Right, left, left, right, right. Back where she started, wiser for the journey.

  Carolyn’s mother sedately applauded the two of them.

  Tikki broke out in the best smile. She had tiny glimmers of delight in her eyes. “You did it, Mom! Look at you! You’re dancing! You and I are dancing. Oh, this makes me happy.”

  Carolyn smiled and received a nod of approval from Lydia before she moved on to the next step.

  “Las cruces.” Lydia demonstrated how the left foot begins and crosses behind the right in a series of invisible crosses that seemed to be marked on the dark wood floor.

  “This is where in life the sacred intersects with the common,” Carolyn’s mother explained, as she repeated the motions. She made the steps look easy and graceful. Her shoulders were back, and she was dancing as Carolyn knew her mother had always lived, from the stomach up, with the sacred and the common intersecting naturally.

  Lydia moved on, introducing the chulero. This side step included a lunge of the minutest proportions but a lunge nonetheless.

  “This is my favorite one so far,” Tikki said as she struck a lunge pose and held up her hand as if she were holding a sword. “En garde! I dare anyone to try to mess with us.”

  Lydia put a quick halt to Tikki’s joking around and had her three pupils line up again and repeat the steps all the way through three more times. Cinco paseos, las cruces, chulero. Tikki had it all memorized, and Carolyn’s mother was right there with Tikki, anticipating the next move and making the smooth transitions. Carolyn felt she was admirably holding her own. She was a little slower, but each step was taken with her head held high.

  “This next movement is with the right arm.” Carolyn’s mother gracefully repeated Lydia’s demonstration and raised her right arm while keeping her elbow bent slightly.

  “Keep your wrist tilted over your head, fingers in harmony with each other, thumb relaxed.”

  Lydia looked up to her hand, slowly turned her wrist so that the palm faced her as if she were holding an invisible ball. She drew her hand to her face as if giving it a sniff, and then with a confident staccato motion, she looked as if she were throwing away whatever invisible item she had been holding in her hand.

  Lydia did the motions again, rapidly explaining each movement as Carolyn’s mother slipped into her easy undercurrent of translating for Carolyn and Tikki. “This is the garden. Life, your life, is the Garden of Eden, and you are Eve. Now reach up your hand. You pick the apple, you smell it …”

  With bravado, Lydia thrust her arm across her front at an angle, as if quickly throwing away the apple. All the while her face was still turned to where her right arm had been in the air.

  “She says you are Eve, and it is your turn. What will you decide? You sniff the apple, and you throw it away! Then you do this.”

  With a snap, Lydia’s left arm went up with fingers gracefully posed. Her left index finger victoriously pointed to the heavens.

  “That’s cool,” Tikki said. “Do it again.”

  Lydia demonstrated, and Carolyn’s mother translated Lydia’s running commentary. “Every woman has this moment in her life when she must make her choice. You hold in your hand the apple. You smell it, and what will you do? It is your turn to make the decision. Will you take the bite? No! You are a strong woman. You throw it away and take a stand of victory because you did not fall for the trap.”

  They all watched as Tikki repeated the motions. Then Carolyn’s mother did them with grace. All eyes turned to Carolyn. Lydia stepped closer and once again pressed her hand to Carolyn’s stomach and then to the small of her back. Carolyn stood tall as she reached up, picked the invisible apple, drew her arm past her nose, and threw the apple away. Her left arm rose to the ceiling, index finger pointed toward the heavens.

  Lydia gave her nod of approval and said, “Ahora con la música.” She
walked over to the end table in the corner and pressed a button on an old-fashioned boom box. Passionate flamenco guitar music filled the room. All three of the students lined up and improved their posture. They began with the cinco paseos.

  As they moved into las cruces, Carolyn felt her stomach tighten. It was there, in that simple room with the paint-chipped walls and the passionate music surrounding these three generations of women, that Carolyn witnessed something ancient yet invisible. The sacred was intersecting with the common. They were being invited to step inside the mystery.

  They performed the lunge in unison and continued the steps as they each reached for their imaginary apple. Carolyn suddenly knew what her “apple” was: the lie she had bitten into many times over the past seven years. She hesitated only a moment, and then with a snap, she “threw it away” and thrust her victorious left arm into the air.

  Unexpectedly, a wave of tears came over her. She clutched her stomach with both arms, as if a deep place inside of her had been punctured and something was being released from her spirit.

  Lydia was the first to notice Carolyn’s reaction to the music, the motions, and the meanings. She came to Carolyn’s side, slipped her arm around her, and made a soft cooing sound like a dove.

  “Mom, what’s wrong?” Tikki and Carolyn’s mother gathered close. “Are you frustrated? Because you shouldn’t be. You did great! You danced all the steps. You’ve got it.”

  Carolyn’s mother stroked her hair as a reservoir of silent tears continued to stream from Carolyn’s eyes. “What is it, mi niña?”

  Carolyn didn’t know how to explain what had just happened inside her.

  Lydia spoke, and Carolyn’s mother voiced the wise woman’s insight. “You have thrown away something that was poison to you, have you not?”

  “Yes,” Carolyn whispered.

  Tikki reached for Carolyn’s hand. “Mom, what did you throw away?”

  Something inside her felt stilled. Tranquila.

  “I was … I was angry. At God. I have been mad at him for a long time.” A silent trickle of tears flowed down Carolyn’s cheek. “When you’re angry at someone, you think you have the right to ignore them. I chose to throw away that anger. I can’t ignore God anymore.”

  Abuela Teresa took Carolyn’s face in her hands and kissed her on both cheeks. Tikki put her arms around Carolyn and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. Lydia smiled softly.

  The rest of the lesson was a blur. What had happened inside of Carolyn was in sharp focus. She felt different. New. Lighter inside as well as with her steps. The padding of sorrow, doubt, and pain that had been a hidden buffer in her life for so long seemed to have lifted.

  As they said their good-byes, Carolyn was reluctant to leave this place of unexpected hope and healing. She wanted to align her life with the steady rhythm of the island and always live the way she felt right now, with her shoulders back and her stomach strong.

  Lydia pressed her hand once again to Carolyn’s stomach, as if Carolyn was now carrying new life within her and Lydia was feeling for movement. She had a few last words.

  “Lydia says that you have been given one of the best gifts this island has to give. For centuries sailors have come here for repairs and for supplies. They leave this island ready for the next part of their journey. Today you have been made ready for the next part of your life’s journey. The wind has returned to your sails.”

  Carolyn immediately thought of the dream she had experienced weeks ago in which she and Jeff were sailing together off Angel Island. The wind filled the sails, and in her dream Jeff had laughed his best, free-spirited laugh. She almost felt as if she could hear the faint echo of his liberating laughter rolling from the courts of heaven as she left Lydia’s home. Carolyn no longer blamed God for the tragedy that had so altered her life. She knew Jeff was with the Lord. He was free.

  And now so was she.

  “Al vivo la hogaza y al muerto, la mortaja.”

  “We must live by the living, not by the dead.”

  THE DECISION ABOUT what to do next after the dance lesson was an easy one. Lydia’s house was four short blocks from the boardwalk at Las Canteras. The three women strolled arm-in-arm and found an open table in front of Al Macaroni under one of the shaggy beach umbrellas.

  “You two have spoiled me, you know,” Carolyn’s mother said. “After you leave, I won’t want to eat my own cooking. I think I would eat lunch here by the sea every day, if I could.”

  “I love it here, too, Abuela,” Tikki said. “This time has been a treat for all of us, don’t you think? I loved the dance lessons. Absolutely loved them. I wish I could go back for more.”

  “You can,” Carolyn’s mother said. “All you have to do is extend your visit. Or move here.”

  Carolyn looked up from her menu. She half-expected her mother to be looking at her with a visual nudge to let Carolyn know that that last comment was meant for her. But her mother wasn’t looking at her. She was reaching into her purse for a tube of lipstick, which she expertly applied to her lips without the use of a mirror.

  “I’ve never known how you could do that,” Carolyn said. “You never miss either.”

  “Practice, mi niña. Many years of practice. Now, what should we have for lunch today?”

  “Will you order for me, Mom?” Tikki asked. “Whatever you get is fine with me. Nothing with too many onions, though. I need to use the restroom.”

  When Tikki stepped away from the table, Carolyn asked her mother, “Are you happy here? Living here, I mean. Are you glad you moved here?”

  Her mother looked surprised at the question. “Do I not seem happy to you?”

  “You seem happy. You have your sisters and you live in a nice apartment. But don’t you miss the life you had before this?”

  “Of course. Every day I miss you, Marilyn, and your girls. Every day.”

  “Do you ever think you might come back to the States to live with us?”

  She paused and looked out to sea. “I will tell you something. I did not know what I was doing when I moved here. That is the truth. I think I was in shock after your father died. I missed him so much. It was a big move across a big ocean. At the time, you and Marilyn had your husbands and your daughters. I know you will scold me if I say this, but I didn’t think either of you would have time for me if I stayed living near you.”

  She put up her hand before Carolyn could protest. “It’s what I thought. No one expected both of you to be without husbands so soon after I left. My feelings were … well, it was as you experienced in the release within your spirit at our dance lessons. I was angry, even though I didn’t know that’s what it was. I was angry that your father was gone and that I was left alone. Somehow I thought I would be less alone here.”

  “And have you been?”

  “Most of the time. But as I said, I miss you, Marilyn, and your girls very much. Why do you ask these things, Carolyn?”

  The moment had come for Carolyn to process aloud Bryan’s idea for how they could move forward now that their paths had brought them back together.

  “Bryan is staying here, in Las Palmas. He realized it will take a long time to work through the settlement on his stepmother’s house, and he’s decided to stay during the process.”

  “What about his job?”

  “He can work anywhere. Do you remember how he explained that he works from home with just his computer and his phone? He can do that here.”

  “This is interesting.” Carolyn’s mother pressed her lips together. “And how will this affect what has begun to blossom between the two of you?”

  Carolyn looked down at her hands. She realized she had just folded her paper napkin, neatly matching the corners and smoothing the crease in the center. “He’s asked me to consider staying here too.”

  “Staying here?”

  “Yes, with you.”

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What about your job?”

  “I�
�d take a leave of absence from now until school ends in June. That’s eleven weeks. Then I’d have the summer off.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I think so. One of the teachers took a similar leave a few years ago, and he was able to come back to his position.”

  “And would you want to go back to your current position?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the thing. There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know what I’d do with my house. Rent it, maybe. Or find someone to house-sit. I’ve even wondered if it’s time to sell it since it’s just me living there now. Some of the rooms are freshly painted; so I think it would show well, if I put it up for sale. But I’ve thought that if I rent it I’d at least have some income. Some houses in our area have sat vacant for a year or more before they’ve sold. I don’t want that to happen to my place. I’ve put too much love and effort into keeping it up. That house is full of so many memories. And it’s not that I’m saying I need to hold on to the house to preserve all those memories, it’s just that …”

  “Tranquila, mi niña.” Carolyn’s mother reached across the table and took her hand. “You do not need to answer any more of the questions about the house or your job right now. Those things will settle themselves. They always do. You have only one question you need to answer. What is your heart telling you about staying here to be close to Bryan?”

  Carolyn hesitated. She had asked herself this question a hundred times in a dozen different ways.

  “I take that back,” her mother said. “I asked the wrong question. Your face tells me that you would very much like the chance to linger here and see what might come of this relationship. Am I correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then here is the right question for you. Are you willing to follow your heart, to trust your gut, as your daughter would say?” Carolyn’s mother offered a soft smile as she added, “Because when you are willing to take a risk, even if the outcome is not as you hoped, then you will be ready to love again.”