CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Even though her mind felt like it was holding its breath waiting for Carla to burst back through and take her home, she swore she could start to feel some small movement in her toes. Her legs were coming back to life! She waited a bit and then wiggled them again and it almost seemed like the blanket had rippled. Sophie decided to keep up the pretence that her legs weren't working for as long as she needed to, before she could surge free and run away if she needed to.
The hope she felt was enough for her to catch her breath and summon up a little energy. Carla would understand if she took off and didn’t wait for her and she would be the first person she called when she got home safe, Sophie promised herself. Especially since Carla seemed to be taking her time. Perhaps the woods were harder to find from the road than Sophie originally thought. An ambulance van would have a hard time driving its way in here. Hopefully, the ambulance officers weren’t on foot and lost.
Her planning and excitement were interrupted by guttural sounds. Like a koala's mating groan, throaty calls filled the evening. Please, please don't let there be an orgy going on outside, she begged to the air. That was more than she could bear. Even one of Clive's chintzy sermons would be more tolerable. But as she kept listening, she realised they were chanting. Some in unison, some in lag. The words she didn't recognise; it sounded like gibberish. Except there was one word she thought she might have recognised. Veh-nusss. Veh-nusss. It peppered their chants. She thought back to the Wild Woman Ceremony and rolled her eyes.
Despite the lulling rhythm of the chants, the way they mispronounced Venus really irked Sophie and she despised being stuck to the bed and inside the tent more than ever. Her frustrated wail brought in two of the women; ones she had not yet properly seen. They were indistinguishable from the rest. They, too, had the same fleecy jumpers and hair parted directly down the middle, a lack of colour, a lack of sprightliness about them that just made Sophie feel dusty inside. They were dull to look at. If they were a beverage, they'd be watery instant coffee. In the fading light, with the licks of firelight sneaking in behind them, they looked like bats. Their faces drawn long and comically menacing. It was the only non-bland thing about them. Despite their scowling faces, they were excited. One woman gently bumped her palms together. 'It's time!'
'Time for what?' Sophie demanded.
'Venus time! It's here.'
The other woman stepped forward, right up to Sophie's side and started to slide her hand under her armpit.
'It's great! You'll see.' She hauled her upright and the other woman slid her arm underneath her knees. Together they awkwardly carried Sophie out into the night, outside of the tent. Sophie relaxed into their grip, letting herself sink. She was so delighted to be getting some fresh air, getting out of the miserly tent that she didn't even care what crackpot ritual or party was about to happen. Plus, she could see better if the ambulance was coming.
They positioned her on a wide rock in front of the fire, blankets still wound around her legs. Choosing to eat the rich potatoes that were doused in rosemary, sage and nettles— easing a weakness she attributed to lack of nourishment— she watched everyone around her tucking into the white fleshy globules, dribbles of bright yellow butter drip down their chins. If they were eating it, she was safe to do so. And she treasured the milky and fresh taste on her tongue and wanted more.
The chanting had ceased and a murmur of delinquent chatter spattered about the unformed circle. Again, there was a palpable anticipation hovering and it was thrilling. Sophie caught the tail end of it.
Through the wavy ether of the fire flames, she could see the men and women of the group differently to how they were. They were plumper, more jovial and spirited. Their clothes were of a bygone era, a mixture of tatty items and far more formal and pristine numbers: a sharp vest here and a glinting monocle there. Around their feet scampered several small monkeys, also dressed partly in human attire. The women rushed in with widened hips and bottoms, enhanced by fabric and frames of clothing. Boots stomping and hands clapping, that added to the percussion of excitement. No matter how they looked, how they were dressed, they were all doing the same thing. Rubbing big oblong shapes over up and down their arms, over their necks, lifting the hem of their pants and skirts to rub up and down their shins and calves. They held these discs, which glinted warmly against the firelight, in their palms and raised them upwards, seemingly unwilling to pass to another. One woman had a pot full of old pennies that she passed out one coin at a time, jingling the pot in between each person. Everyone took their penny enthusiastically.
Everley emerged from the darkness between two of the medium-sized tents holding a peculiar box. The box looked like a handful of books squeezed together with button-sized satellite keys. Sophie thought she was holding an antique music box but when Everley started playing it like a squeezebox, stretching and flexing the bellows to create and lengthen notes, it was obvious that it was an unusual musical instrument. She toggled at the keys with a deftness and sat down, resting the instrument on one thigh, all the while her mouth frozen in a half-smile. The sound was jarring but not altogether out of place as the scene before Sophie whirred and collided and confused her into losing her sense of reality. More than once, staring around at the people and fire before her, she forgot where she was and how she got there. Like a few times over the past few months, even before Alex left, her mind felt like it was melting and leant away from the fire, momentarily believing her brain was like a big goopy marshmallow that would threaten to melt out her eye sockets and ear holes.
Sophie thought about Alex, although he seemed to be fading in her mind: their days together, the joint activities, what he would wear on the weekends. A mental picture of his face was still there but some features shifted a little: she couldn't remember if he had a little curl of hair that kept flopping over his wide forehead or if she had imagined that. His earlobes were either really globular or pressed right to his skin, like they didn't exist at all. But Sophie discarded these particulars as irrelevant because the feeling, the yearning, to find him and be with him again was still there. It wasn't questionable. If he were here, he would watch these people silently until the next day, when he would look at her earnestly and asking, straight-faced, 'it's Venus time!' and they'd guffaw at the shared joke all morning.
The chanting of 'Venus' returned and got more hurried and insistent and with each sibilation. Sophie felt like she had been flung around a merry go round, her eyes watering from dizziness. None of the faces that surrounded her were particularly interested in Sophie and she didn't know who to screech out for to stop her from tumbling over and over, so she held her breath and waited for the vertigo to be over. Surprising herself, she longed to be back in the small tent in the safety of her narrow hard bed.
The people around the fire came to a hush as Clive, grinning so hard that his face looked like it couldn't stand up to it anymore, bounced through, gesturing for everyone to quieten down with his arms. 'Venus is!' He bellowed to the fire circle and everyone cheered untidily. 'Alright, alright. Shhh.' Clive pointedly looked everyone in the eye, lingering on Sophie. There was an incomplete silence. Cracks of the fire danced around them, a very faint bleating of a sheep and the shuffling of feet on dirt. Clive held them in that state of taciturnity until it was awkward and it made Sophie want to scream but instead, she sniffed and made herself promises that she would do what it takes to get away from this group the second even one of her legs came back to life. She ached to wiggle her toes to see how it was progressing but didn't dare in case someone saw. Waiting until she was put back in the tent and everyone was asleep was her only option.
The silence became even more uncomfortable, which Clive derived drips of glee from, like a grapefruit being squeezed into his mouth. He clapped his hands sharply three times and then he began. 'Finally. Finally!' He shouted with so much intensity that a few people noticeably jumped. 'We have been waiting for this moment for decades, some of us, nay all of us, for lifetime
s. Ever since our first Senior opened up about The New Way to accept the power of Venus and all its alchemical gifts and bringings, we have awaited this. And through the Universe's willing, not to discount the hard work of all of us...' he paused to nod at a few people around the circle, '... we are closer than we have ever been to accepting our birthright and mission in harnessing the alchemical controls that reside in all of us but for those who choose not to see. Every one of you has chosen not to live in the dark anymore. You have chosen to be the people to truly see. To stop the limiting notions that have been imposed on us as humans for centuries. To only accept what we have been told we can do, is in our capacity. But not you, no you have accepted a higher way. A lighter way. And, we can all agree, a better way!'
A collection of applause punctuated his sentiments. Sophie could barely swallow back down all the hot bile that was rising. Looking around the campfire again, all traces of how she saw them had transformed. There they were, all wearing their white jumpers like they had always been. No outdated costumes, no squeezebox, no monkeys. A trick of the fire mirage.
'After many attempts that have all lit up the correct, and proper, pathway but have not seen us share this moment, until now, we can all rejoice in the fact that our efforts are finally being paid off in the most exquisite and rewarding of ways. And that the seed of Venus is now finally with us, after our years of searching and spellwork and summoning. The seed is here.' Again, more applause and cheers. The two men had clamped a hand each on the other's shoulder, in triumphant comradery.
Sophie felt her throat harden and watched the faces of those around her. They were all eating it up like he was dishing out bowls of chocolate and they were starving. Everything that he said was a bunch of nothing meaning words. But if they meant nothing, why was Sophie uncurling inside herself? She longed for one of her fainting spells, induced or not, so she didn't have to bear witness to this derangement.
Emerging from the trees, came the billowing curls of Carla. Sophie almost squealed and knew that her willingness to escape had brought her rescuer in the form of the very person that had been rescuing her from herself all along. But the unhurried way that Carla moved forward unnerved Sophie more than she already was. She searched for her silky eyes but they had turned beady and focused and they all but swept past Sophie without recognition, like a laser scanner looking for something to identify.
'Carla, help me. They won't let me go!' Sophie strangled out a plea.
Carla contemplated Sophie for a second, with a sideways tilt of her angular chin and squinted her eyes at her with a pity that could have blown apart the circle of campers. Sophie slumped forward as soon as she realised Carla was wearing one of the signature jumpers with a big “X” painted on the front. Everley placed a delicate hand on Sophie’s back and was making half-hearted circles which she didn't have the energy to shrug off. Who was this woman that she had split herself open for and shared all of her most disturbing experiences and fears with? Clive answered her question with more of a bounce and wobble on his toes. 'Our valiant leader is here, everybody!' Sophie blocked her ears to more sickening applause.
'Enough!' Carla shrieked so loudly and sharply that even Sophie could hear it through her plugged ears. Everything went ghastly still. Even the fire seemed to cower in response. 'This will not come as welcomed news. Yes, we have reached a stage we have been awaiting for nearly thirty years but I have to inform you that more testing is required.'
Sophie watched as a few people around the circle flopped forward, dismayed. Despite Abigail weeping into her hands, Sophie still couldn't understand what was really happening and she felt so very on the outer, which pressed her to want to escape even more. To forget about this place and its weird antiquated people like it was a fever dream. Sophie tried to subtly turn around and scan the clearing for the best escape route. But Everley, who was still rubbing her back, mistook the action and leant in to hug her, obscuring her view past the group. The distant baby wail floated in briefly again and upon hearing it, she really did start to believe she was in one of her lengthy nightmares.
'Bring her out!' Carla shouted back to the tents. By now, she stood upon a wooden crate that had been covered in a small crocheted blanket of orange and reds, which mirrored back the fire. The light from the fire was throwing shadows on Carla's face that distorted the woman that Sophie knew. Her nose edged forward more and her eyes were sharper, a harder, more sinister look had emerged and Sophie missed the soft, warm woman that had taken all her vulnerabilities and wrapped them up for her.
Clive leapt up to Carla and tugged at her forearm. 'Are you sure...?' He tried to postulate but Carla shook him off roughly and he stumbled back, falling on his backside. It was only when Sophie noticed that rather than embarrassment, Clive showed a concern that distorted his face, so he looked like a child and an old man, all at once.
A woman rushed forth from the biggest tent, her arms out in front of her carrying another bundle of crocheted blankets with more muted colours of flamingo and fairy floss pinks. A wail erupted through the navy-blue night and Sophie could feel the surrounding trees lean in protectively. The sound made her look up towards the rich blanket that held them all steady, the decorated night sky that offered both freedom and containment. The sky pulsed and loomed closer, begging Sophie for something that she could not translate. Carla held the baby up in her hands, cradling its head and rear in each hand. The crocheted blanket fell to the floor and the baby's mouth screamed open so wide it almost took over its tiny head. Sophie heard Abigail gasp and start to sob to match the baby's wail.
'Abigail, since you seem so upset, this test will be good for you to conduct. Will you step forward please Abigail?' Abigail shook her head into her hands, her pitted sobs continued.
'Abigail. Consider yourself on the other side of this. The growth, the revitalisation and the empowerment. You can reach your potentiality by seeing through this task and you know it. Otherwise, you can stay stagnant in your resistance and probably keep butting up against whatever inner turmoil this is causing you again and again until you learn this precious lesson. You have a choice.' The choice that Carla presented was barely so. Sophie didn't really comprehend what Carla was proposing but Abigail dug her toes into the dirt and her sobs had morphed into a funnelled yowling.
'Abigail? Would you like to come forward?' She shouted over the baby's cries which had syncopated with Abigail's.
Everley had moved over and crouched beside Abigail. She scooped her hands under one elbow and coaxed her up. Abigail resisted but not enough. She was led to where Carla was standing, presenting the baby to Abigail to take hold. Carla slid the baby into Abigail's arms where she hunched over the bright red thing, sobbing into its face. Her hair hung like a shield between the baby and the onlookers and Sophie watched her shoulders jiggle up and down because she couldn't see her face or the baby and she couldn't predict what was going to happen. But the way that her stomach had crimped itself, like the end of a toothpaste tube being squeezed, ensured that what was about to happen was going to be horrific.
'You have a choice, Abigail. Continue as you have been or push yourself to new echelons. Release yourself from your poisoned narrative and break free to be the limitless being that you can be. For once you hit that space, you will be helping your fellows to get there also. And collectively, we are going somewhere great. Somewhere that humans have always been calibrated to be. Do it now Abigail!' Carla was screeching but at the sky, rather than at Abigail. Her cheeks shot around like a rabid dog, like they had been hit with a Newton's Cradle.
'I can't! I can't!' Abigail tried to hand the baby, who had sensed its need to be quiet and subdued as a matter of survival, back to Carla. But she was rebuffed by Carla's outstretched palms.
'Abigail. You know that's not the best choice for the highest good of you and your fellows now, do you?' Carla's voice became nastily sing-songy.
'But I don't want to do this! I don't care about growth anymore. I'm obviously not made for this ki
nd of evolution!'
Sophie watched Abigail transform from a virtuous and meek maiden to a venomous rat. And her rage was contagious and it was hard not to root for her. Carla snatched the baby back and stepped off the box. She leaned her face in close to Abigail, who had stopped crying but her cheeks were still shiny from the tears. 'I want you to do something, Abigail.' Carla's voice had floated to a level and calm tone.
'Yes, Carla?' Abigail resigned herself to a final sniffle and looked at her feet.
'I want you to get the fuck out of my sight!'
Abigail scampered off to a tent that Sophie couldn't see and she let out the breath that she'd been holding. A few others around her did the same.
The whole time, Clive didn't remove his eyes from Carla's face, nodding in agreement with whatever she said. Turning back to face her mignons, Carla looked each in the eye, daring a defiance that she could unleash her unsettled rage upon, now that the dragon inside her had been stirred awake. 'You all make me sick,' she spat and then turned to nod at Clive, who was caked in adoration at her side. He reciprocated the firm nod and slowly made his way around the circle, gently landing a hand on each shoulder, smiling as if he'd just been told the secret of life. No one flinched or tensed under his touch and Sophie wondered if she would be patted the same since, essentially, she was an outsider. But when he came to her spot, he moved in front of her and yanked her forearm so hard that Sophie felt a twinge in its socket. Clive gripped her arm tightly and yanked her towards the fire.
The Tens Page 11