Yeah, looking around, Tobias saw what looked to be a couple of rabbis at least, and maybe some Buddhists, though he wasn’t sure. Probably no Hindus, and certainly no Sikhs. Tobias wondered if the coven could work on that. Do some actual outreach, or talk to the pastor about it, at any rate. There weren’t even any first nations folks present, that he could tell.
He wondered if anyone on the Interfaith Council had contact with any of the Multnomah or Wasco peoples. Even if the tribal members were Christian, they would add a much-needed viewpoint to the group.
One step at a time, he thought to himself. The witches were here now. The Sikhs and others would hopefully come later. If it turned out to be worth it.
More people crowded into the room.
“I guess we should have gotten the sanctuary after all,” said a brown-skinned Black woman with slicked-back hair. She was dressed like a business woman, in a skirt and pumps. Tobias thought she was with the Unitarians, though he wasn’t sure. She was acting like a meeting facilitator.
“Well, it’s too late now,” she said, and raised her voice. “Please just try to find a spot. I’m afraid some of you will have to stand, so we’ll try to make tonight’s meeting short.”
People shuffled around, excusing themselves and shucking out of their heavy coats. The room was already warm. Tobias felt some sweat on his upper lip. He swiped at it.
“What time is this meeting supposed to start?” he asked Brenda. He was sandwiched between Brenda and Raquel.
“I think 6:30,” she said, “I don’t know.”
“And how long is it going to run?”
“These sorts of meetings?” she said, “Despite what Jaqueline just said, they always run too long. You can duck out if you need to.”
He settled himself into the chair, his heavy coat on his lap. Waiting. And then he walked through the open door—Aiden. Tobias’s heart thumped faster. He licked his lips. Wow, the man was beautiful.
Tobias stared at Aiden as he walked to the front, dark hair swept off his pale brow, and those long, dark eyelashes framing his eyes. He was still wrapped up in his heavy winter coat with a navy scarf around his neck, and a wool cap tucked inside his hands. He must have felt Tobias looking at him, because he looked up, startled, and stared across the room.
Giving Tobias a quick nod and a small smile, he turned to the facilitator who had just spoken. Tobias felt relieved. The smile signaled that Aiden must have meant it about having another date sometime. At least he hoped so.
Aiden sat down in a chair in the front. That same facilitator stood up again.
“Okay everybody, thank you all for coming. I know it’s a cold night but it’s only going to get colder and at least we have a warm place to meet in. My name is Jaqueline, and I’m with the Unitarian Universalist congregation and will be facilitating this meeting tonight. I invite Rabbi Schwartz to please come up and lead us in an opening prayer.”
Rabbi Schwartz was a tall, thin woman with a skullcap on her head, glasses, and short gray-and-black hair curling around her face. She wore a purple shirt and black jeans.
“Thank you, Jaqueline,” she said, then addressed the gathering, “You can close your eyes or leave them open, whatever works for your tradition.”
And she raised her hands and closed her own eyes.
“I call upon the spirit of love to enter this space. I call upon the spirit of understanding to be with us. May we seek your guidance. May we open our minds and hearts. Please give us the strength to help our brothers and sisters on the streets during these cold months when they need us the most. May we shine the light of love for them. May the light of love fill each of us and guide our words and our thoughts during this meeting, Amen,”
“Amen,” people replied.
“Blessed be,” said several coven members.
“Blessed be,” Tobias said.
The facilitator stood again and said, “Thank you, Rabbi” as the rabbi made her way back to her seat. “I’d like to ask Aiden from De Porres house to speak to us, and then afterwards we’ll break into small groups to start brainstorming ideas for our winter task force. Just feeding people isn’t enough. We need to put pressure on the city to actually do something to solve the problem of homelessness in Portland. And I know you’re all here because you’re deeply concerned and interested in this. It’s time, though, that we move towards real action. So let’s figure that out, folks. But first, Aiden.”
He stood, wearing a simple navy button down shirt over a white T-shirt. His face looked cold and drawn. Tobias sat up straighter in his chair, waiting. Aiden closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Tobias breathed in with him.
Eyes still closed, Aiden spoke, voice reaching clearly to the back of the room.
“Mary Jo died last night. She died cold and alone. She died on a sidewalk in this city wrapped in a sleeping bag. Damp. Lonely. I hope she fell asleep and didn’t know she was dying. I hope she had some comfort in the end.”
His eyes snapped open. “But I don’t know that she did. I know that this city did not give her enough comfort. I know that this city did not offer enough help. Our kitchen fed her every day and offered tea and conversation, but we couldn’t offer her a real home. Her home was among the other people on the streets who are also struggling. This city is responsible for each of them. We are responsible for each of them and we are responsible for the life and death of Mary Jo.”
He closed his eyes again, mouth pinched, face even paler than before. Then, like the rabbi before him, he lifted his hands. His blue eyes snapped open once again, his gaze moving around the room.
“I spent this afternoon kneeling in prayer in front of the police station. As you know, the police have been making sweeps of the homeless camps, or as we call them, the houseless camps. These camps provide shelter, home, a place to live in community, but they are consistently threatened by people whose homes happen to be houses instead of clustered tents. The more those camps get dispersed, the more those homes are scattered, the more people like Mary Jo will die from cold, from neglect, from want.”
Tobias’s stomach churned with sour bile. Regret and a sense of guilt twined with grief. He wasn’t sure how many of those emotions were his own. He wasn’t usually an empath, but Aiden affected him in ways he wasn’t used to.
“We have got to stand together and stop the sweeps, and find a better way to show these people that we are part of their community. And my prayer today was that we each be filled with the holy fire. The fire of change. The fire of justice. The fire of love. And I prayed for that fire to move through us, kindling in us that desire to step forward and be a presence of hope and true justice, not just charity.”
He looked around the room again. “I know many of you are very involved in charity. So am I. The works of mercy are important. Well, I understand now, maybe for the first time in my life, that the works of mercy are not enough. We need to figure out together what the works of justice are, and I know in my heart that is the work of this group. It is our holy work.”
Tobias felt as though breath barely flowed into this lungs. The air around him was practically vibrating. The room was hushed, the air felt thick. Tobias felt the pressure of it on his face and his chest.
“Jaqueline asked us to form task forces to make real change here,” Aiden said. “The first thing I ask us to do is to insist that the police stop the sweeps. The other ideas I’m going to leave up to you. Thank you.”
Aiden lowered his hands then, and the air rushed back into Tobias’s lungs.
“Powerful,” Raquel murmured next to him.
Tobias nodded, “Yes.”
Damn. The world seemed determined to turn every emotion in his life on its head, didn’t it? Because Tobias knew right then, in that moment, that he was in love.
12
Aiden
Aiden felt as though his skin were vibrating. He couldn’t even look up. He collapsed into his chair, trying to slow his breathing down, one hand clutching his heart, sure that he was going to burn up,
burn alive.
“Do you need anything, Aiden?” Jaqueline asked as she crouched near his chair, slim skirt tucked behind her knees. Her brow was creased, though the rest of her face looked perfect beneath the slick coif of her hair.
So many people looked out for him, he realized. Usually it was Stingray. She was always attuned to what her crew was doing, and how they were feeling. Plus, she’d been one of the people who had lobbied to the community to take Aiden in when he had first arrived, a hungry, scared seventeen-year-old.
Jaqueline was nothing like Stingray on one hand, but the two women shared some characteristics. Both of them were strong, not afraid to fight, and as nurturing as the day was long.
He looked up. “No, no, I’m okay. I just need to sit for a moment.”
“You let me know. I’m going to get the groups started. Okay?”
“Sounds great,” he said.
Okay, Aiden, what’s happening? He wondered if he shouldn’t have gone to the doctor like the priest had asked him to, except this didn’t actually feel physical, despite the weird physical manifestation of it. It felt—he wasn’t sure—metaphysical, spiritual.
What are you, some kind of holy man? He scoffed at himself, shaking his head. He didn’t feel like any kind of holy man, but they were the only people who had these weird experiences, in his mind. They were the only ones that people told these kind of stories about. That was so not what he needed. Going out to gay bars, picking up strange men, waking up in their beds and then what? Being a holy man? They didn’t seem to go together.
And Tobias was here. Of all the places…and it looked like he was with those witches Aiden had heard some of the more conservative Baptists grumbling in the hallway.
A coven had walked into the Portland Interfaith Council. It was like a bad joke. Who’d have thought that would even happen? Aiden had barely been able to look at Tobias when he was standing up talking. His eyes kept glancing over that sharply chiseled face, the long nose, the deep brown eyes, the full lips.
He couldn’t deny the attraction. He was a metal filing and Tobias was a magnet.
“Just stop it,” he muttered, head in his hands. If he could just sit here and breathe awhile, maybe Tobias would end up in a group trying to plot some help for the houseless of Portland and Aiden could make his excuses to Jaqueline and slip away. He wanted another date with the man, sure, but he wasn’t quite ready for Tobias to have seen him like this, with the fire pouring through him.
And if it turned out he was a witch? What then?
He felt overwhelmed now. Exposed. Confused.
“Aiden.”
It was that voice, sweet honey in a cup of warm and soothing tea. And the smell of him, like fire igniting charcoal and the first hiss of frankincense, smoke wafting towards the sky. He smelled like comfort, and like a place of worship, both. Aiden breathed in and finally lifted his hands from his face and sat up again.
Tobias crouched down in front of him. “Are you okay? You look kind of ill. Do you need me to get you some water?”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll be fine.” As if.
Tobias pulled a chair up next to him. He held out a woven, equal-armed cross that looked like it was made out of straw. Aiden grew still inside when he recognized it. It was the cross from the stained glass window. He looked up into the brown eyes he’d spent hours staring into two nights before. “The cross of St. Brigid,” he said.
“Yes. I’ve been weaving them all week. We just celebrated her holiday—Imbolc, the Irish call it. The coven always gets together to honor her. Actually, I honor her every day. I say my prayers, light my candles”—he nodded—“you know, magic stuff.”
Aiden’s stomach clenched. “Coven? You’re in a coven?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
Aiden didn’t know what to say to that. Of course it was a problem. Damn it. Really, God? This is who you send me?
Aiden didn’t answer Tobias’s question. “Magic stuff? Sounds more like Catholic stuff.”
“Well,” Tobias responded, smile not leaving his face, “I don’t know how much you know about it all, but sometimes I think they’re pretty much the same. Magic and…whatever Catholics do. And yeah, I’m here with my coven. Arrow and Crescent. And yes, before you get there, I call myself a witch.”
Aiden shook his head.
Tobias held the cross out towards him. “I’d like you to have it,” he said. Aiden reached for it, feeling the smooth, dry, papery quality of the straw, running his fingers over the bumps where other pieces of straw had been wrapped around the ends, tying off the arms of the cross. It looked like a pinwheel. Like the toy he had when he was eight. He loved running around with it as it blew in the wind, making whirring and clicking noises, colors flashing and flying as he ran.
“It’s like a pinwheel,” he said.
Tobias nodded. “Same basic principle. Every culture has a sun-wheel. This is the Irish form. We consider the equal armed cross to represent the seasons and the elements.”
“Just looks like a cross to me,” Aiden said.
Tobias nodded and sat back. He didn’t say anything else, he just looked. Aiden felt that gaze on his skin, he felt his body respond. Witch or not, Tobias was the first person he’d been attracted to since he was, oh, gosh, sixteen probably. For years he’d hidden himself away, first just running, trying to find a home, and then working. The soup kitchen took up every ounce of him. He rubbed his chest again.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tobias asked.
Aiden paused. If anyone understood weird stuff like this, it would be a witch, right? “I had a weird experience the other day and it’s staying with me.”
He could hear the murmur of people’s voices as the small groups started up, discussing strategies. He heard Mary Jo’s name and felt the wave of grief crash through him again. Water meeting fire.
“What kind of experience?” Tobias asked.
Somehow, Aiden knew this man, this witch, would understand.
“I… It was weird. I was praying in church and nothing was happening, and I stopped in front of a stained glass window on my way out.” He held up the straw cross. “St. Brigid, actually. And then all of a sudden, it felt like my heart was on fire and I collapsed. I came to with this priest standing over me, and my chest still burning.”
“Was it a heart attack?”
“That’s just it, no. Like, it wasn’t that kind of classic pressure, left arm going numb thing. Besides, I’m too young and I’m healthy; I’ve never had a problem in my life. Got checked up at the clinic six months ago,” he said. “It felt…spiritual. Do you understand that?”
“I do. And if you’re willing to talk to a bunch of witches, I think Brenda or Raquel could help you out, or maybe Tempest. Tempest is a healer.”
“Like you,” Aiden said.
Tobias nodded. “Like me, but different skill set. And Brenda and Raquel, well, they’re two of the wisest women I know.”
“I don’t know, Tobias. To be honest, I’m kind of freaked out by this whole witchcraft thing. It’s news to me, you know. You could have told me.”
“While we were dancing? When you kissed me? After the second beer? When exactly was the right moment, Aiden?” His voice sounded irritated. “You didn’t tell me too much about yourself, either.”
Then Tobias took a breath and looked around, as if he was searching for an answer somewhere among the groups of people gathered in clumps throughout the small room.
Aiden watched him, torn between wanting to curl up in the man’s arms again, and run as far and fast as his boots would take him.
Tobias leaned forward and dropped his voice. “It’s not a big deal. Think of it this way. Think of it as the religions people had before Jesus came. Think of it as the religion that people had when they just trying to get along with the land and the animals and just discovering how to use fire. Think of it that way. I mean, haven’t you ever walked down the street and felt like the world was alive?”
�
��Yeah,” Aiden said, “I guess I feel that sometimes. With the trees, or the people who come to eat at the kitchen. The priest calls that the indwelling spirit.”
“Yes! That indwelling spirit is something witches work with all the time. We believe the world is alive: every plant, every rock, every drop of water, every flame, every person. We also work with Gods and Goddesses, those larger forces. Some of us feel that they make up that thing that you call God. Some of us feel they’re all separate individual entities.”
“And you?” Aiden said.
Tobias grinned. “Well, the jury’s still out for me. But I work with Brigid a lot and I feel like she listens to me, and I feel like she helps me heal people. So as far as I’m concerned, Brigid at least is real, as real as anything else, as real as you sitting here.” Then he laughed. Aiden liked his laugh a lot.
“What’s so funny?” Aiden said.
“I didn’t come to this meeting expecting to talk theology with you. I didn’t expect to see you here at all. I suppose I should join a group, and figure out what we’re going to do.”
“Join my group,” Aiden said, then flushed a little with the boldness of that statement. “I mean, I really want to get people together to stop the sweeps. These people here, they’ll join us if we come up with a plan. But mostly they’re going to try to figure out more conservative ways to deal with the problem.”
“And you want a more radical solution?” Tobias said.
“I just told you, man. My heart’s on fire. I have to grasp something. I have to grasp the torch, I have to grasp the root. I don’t know if any of this makes any sense. It doesn’t really make sense to me, but all I know is I’m ready to do something drastic.”
Tobias held out his hand. Aiden looked from the hand up to Tobias’s face, then he nodded, transferred the Brigid’s cross to his left hand, and took Tobias’s right hand in his own. They shook.
Aiden found that he didn’t really want to let go.
“I’m in,” Tobias said. “Whatever you need, I’ll do my best.”
By Flame Page 6