Mystical Circles

by S. C. Skillman

  A murmur spread among them.

  Craig turned to Oleg, blushing deeply beneath his floppy hat. “Yes, Oleg; don’t be so self-effacing. Our friend here had a lucid dream last night, which he told me about before this walk. He’s well in tune with his higher self. Congratulations, Oleg.”

  Juliet looked at the Slav. The flush had diminished to a dull purplish hue. She couldn’t work out whether Craig’s praise pleased him or not.

  She then caught sight of Rory’s face. His eyes held a cold glitter. Was he jealous? But before she could consider this further, Craig’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “Right, let’s all turn round and go back.”

  They all set off, following the path down to the farmhouse. Zoe followed immediately behind Craig, and Juliet couldn’t catch up with her. Instead, she fell in step with Rory. “So how do you feel, Rory?” she asked.

  “Life is but a dream,” Rory said.

  “You really believe that?”

  “Of course. Who’d have harsh reality when they can live here?” he replied.

  Oleg moved within range. “Life’s no different from what it was outside. Still goes badly for me most of the time.”

  She glanced at him, bemused. “I noticed you last night in the barn with Beth, Oleg. Didn’t you two sort things out at all?”

  He glared at her. “What d’you mean by that? Sort things out? How? And why were you watching us?”

  She took a deep breath. “I can’t help noticing how much you care for her.”

  “She doesn’t care for me,” he snapped.

  Silence fell. She sought words. “Perhaps you’ve misunderstood her true feelings, Oleg. Perhaps you think too little of yourself. Be encouraged by Craig. He says you’re in tune with your higher self.”

  “That depends upon what he actually chose to tell Craig.” Rory spoke in a snide tone of voice.

  “Rory’s jealous,” said Oleg.

  Rory moved as if he was about to strike him.

  Juliet, alarmed, quickly stepped between them. “What’s up between you two?” she asked.

  Rory looked surprised. “Nothing,” he replied, and sauntered on.

  Then she turned back to Oleg. “What have you done to upset Rory?”

  “Other way round.” His voice filled with self-pity. “It’s him who upset me.”

  “Oh?” She ducked under a low branch. “What did he do?”

  He looked dejected. “He asked me if I could possibly love him.”

  Juliet took the risk of flippancy. “Didn’t you say ‘yes, as a friend? But I love Beth more’? This is, after all, a wheel of love.”

  “No, I’d never tell him that,” he retorted, in a fierce undertone. “It doesn’t work that way. Not with Rory. He gets violent.”

  “Oh?” She started. Her heart missed a beat. “Violent? D’you mean he beats you up?”

  But Oleg was clearly unwilling to say more.

  Juliet now felt a frisson of fear when she looked at Rory. She knew she shouldn’t judge anyone here simply on the basis of what someone else said about them. Even so… She would treat Rory with just a little extra caution until she knew him better.

  But what she really wanted to know right now was: how did Craig mean to deal with all these conflicting desires? Was he really equipped to handle them? Or was this, for him, a dream he never intended to wake up from?

  They’d reached the back door of the house, and the rest of the group were busy taking their boots off and throwing them on the rack in the utility area. She found herself drawn aside by Craig, several metres away from the others, closer to where the cars were parked.

  “Meet me after lunch, Juliet. I’m busy this morning. But I’ll have an hour to give you then. I may be able to explain a little for you.”

  “Thank you Craig. I hope you will.”

  “Have faith, Juliet. Perhaps I can do even more than you hope for.”

  And with that he strode in through the back doorway.

  6

  Uncertain Hopes

  An interview with Craig: that was Juliet’s first priority.

  The scene in his office had aroused her curiosity. And every meeting she’d had with him since then had sharpened it. The Dream Yoga walk that morning had served to whet her appetite even further. She was keen to challenge him on several of his statements, and equally determined to resist his magnetic appeal. She needed to understand the reason for her own strong mistrust. She had further questions not only about the group, but also about his relationships in it, with both men and women; and that, most importantly, would throw light on his relationship with Zoe.

  The fact was, he fascinated her.

  True to his word, he appeared in the kitchen just as lunch finished. Everyone else had left. She and Craig were on their own together with the Nagra and mike. They sat at the top corner of the oak table; she’d placed her audio equipment on the table beside her. He regarded her with his dark eyes. She struggled to control her reaction to him. She’d resolved to keep a firm eye on any psychological tricks of his, like seeming to change his appearance without warning.

  She plugged her cable in and switched on. “I’m grateful to you, Craig, for allowing me to make these recordings.” Good idea to disarm him with the courtesies first, she thought.

  “Nothing gives me greater pleasure, Juliet.”

  Looking at him, she felt encouraged by the openness of his expression. Right ankle resting on his left knee, he sat at an angle to the chair, one arm casually slung along the back. He appeared relaxed, and had changed into a navy tracksuit. Everything he wore, no matter how casual, he wore with perfect style and ease. This was the third time she’d seen him in sports gear. She wasn’t aware the property boasted a squash or a tennis court, or anything like that. She could only conclude he wore the gear because it conveyed just the impression he wanted. And she for one could not deny he looked gorgeous.

  She sat up straight. No unprofessional thoughts. What she wanted here was iron-hard control. She studied the level reading on the display. All was in order. She met his eyes again. They were touched by a faint smile. Plugging the mike in, she held it in front of Craig’s mouth and pressed record.

  As she did so he spoke. “Enjoy last night, Juliet?”

  “Yes thanks. I found that, and this morning’s walk, very entertaining.”

  He looked amused. “Ah. I detect scepticism.”

  “Yes. I find it difficult to believe we can be one hundred percent positive all of the time.”

  “Oh?” he said lightly. “Do leave room, though, for the possibility that I may yet convince you.”

  She had no intention of being thrown off course by any smooth talking on his part, even though she already felt that now-familiar instability in the pit of her stomach. She maintained an even tone. “Would you give me an image that you think represents this community?”

  He seemed to like this question. “It could be represented by an eagle: an eagle on its eyrie.”

  Her eyes widened. “But we’re not high up, here. We’re in a valley.”

  “Physically, maybe. But spiritually, it’s a completely different story.”

  She considered this. It was difficult to find a simple, single meaning in his words. Rory? Oleg? Sam? Beth? They all had their problems. “Wouldn’t you prefer the symbol of a dove?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Yet you teach love and peace. Am I missing something?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  Juliet knew plenty of the things that happened in this house stood way outside the bounds of peace and love.

  At that moment his face seemed about to change. She held her breath. Was he going to do it again? That strange and frightening thing which disorientated yet engrossed her?

  He apparently thought better of it and gave her a calm, steady look. “You’ve missed something all right,” he said. “I teach freedom first. Peace of mind flows from that. And the eagle, as you know, symbolises freedom.”

  “But
being set free isn’t all good news,” she remarked, “especially if you’re unprepared for it.”

  He smiled. “What sort of freedom do you think I give, Juliet?”

  “No idea,” she said.

  “Freedom from one of the most enslaving of all false notions, that other people are somehow responsible for our happiness.”

  “I don’t think I believe that,” she replied, disconcerted.

  “Don’t you? You’ve never felt your wellbeing depended upon what your friends or your lover or your family members were doing?”

  She blushed, furious with herself for falling into the trap. And as she did so, Zoe’s face floated to the forefront of her consciousness. She was afraid she’d break the cardinal rule of her guidelines as a radio journalist, and betray her personal feelings.

  “What about you then, Craig?” she asked. “And the members of your group? It seems some of them feel you hold the key to the rest of their lives.”

  “They’ve still a long journey ahead,” he said. “I don’t hold the key. They do.”

  “Have you told them that?”

  He looked faintly patronising. “No need. It’s something they must learn themselves.”

  She tried another angle. “You mention past negative messages and the power they have over our lives. You help break that link, do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a big claim,” she said. “Don’t you suppose you have a responsibility to your followers? You’ve given their lives purpose and meaning. You can’t expect not to arouse strong, even sexual emotions. As you did in the dynamic meditation session last night.”

  He looked quizzical.

  “When Laura stripped off, for instance, in a desperate bid for your attention.” She was beginning to struggle. Why did he now look so lofty and detached? Though, of course, it did occur to her as she said this, that she may have misunderstood Laura’s intentions, and the reasons for Craig’s self-control.

  She held Craig’s gaze. Had she expected him to appear uncomfortable? Fool, she told herself. Rather, he just looked faintly tolerant.

  “I think you’ve misinterpreted her message,” he said. “Sexual emotions, you say? I can handle them.”

  What else might she have imagined him to say? She felt hot and trapped. Her glance shifted to the rows of highly polished copper kettles and jugs hanging from the overhead beam, and the corn dollies on the wall opposite.

  She fought the feeling that, so far, the score stood at Craig: one, and Juliet: nil. “But do you care about them, Craig?” she asked. “Do you believe what you’re doing is right?” Those questions burst from her without warning. Her hand tightened round the microphone.

  “I don’t think you need be concerned about that.” He chuckled.

  What was that supposed to mean? “How do you see yourself, Craig? What’s your ultimate objective here?”

  His voice took on a hard edge. “You want to know what my end product is?”

  “Yes.”

  He set both feet on the floor, leaning forward so his elbows were supported by the table. Interlocking his fingers, he rested his chin on them as he looked at her. “Let me answer that by asking you a question, Juliet. What are you searching for?”

  She battled the temptation to break eye contact. “Nothing at the moment, Craig, apart from a good interview with you.”

  Would he fall for it? She felt small and weak, hiding behind a smart-tongued façade. After all, it had been a good question. And one she found difficult to answer honestly. Her focus had, until now, been solely on discovering what Zoe was up to, and getting her home again. Why should she feel bad about that?

  Aloud, she said, “All right. Let’s suppose I want to be a very serene, loving being, in tune with the universe.”

  Craig’s eyes regained their warmth. “I’d say you’ve come to the right place.” He sat back again, in a relaxed pose.

  “Ah-ha,” she said. “So that’s your end product.” Had she got the better of him, in this exchange? She hardly believed so.

  “Maybe,” he replied. “But it’s by no means easily achieved. After all, we have ourselves and each other to contend with. One of the things I make clear to my new recruits is there’ll be a lot of hard work.”

  “Hard work?”

  “Oh yes.” He laughed. “My students work. And that doesn’t just mean window-cleaning, polishing and vacuuming – though they do all that. No, I mean psychological work, and spiritual work. I mean work to release negative emotions, rubbish that’s accumulated over the years.”

  Juliet viewed him narrowly. This kind of talk made her glad she wasn’t a member of his group. To her it all sounded very risky. Where might such self-analysis and soul-searching lead? For some it would bring release. For others it might cause breakdown. Who could tell? Of one thing she was absolutely sure. No way would she allow Craig to reach into her, and try to change her mental state.

  “What about the past?” she said. “I’ve heard a number of confusing things about your attitude to that. Some say your aim is to blot it out.”

  He shifted position in his chair once more. “A misunderstanding. Though I do encourage my students to erase their personal history.”

  A small silence fell.

  “Yet you keep souvenirs of your past in your desk drawer,” she remarked.

  His face darkened.

  “If that is indeed what they are,” she said.

  He jumped up, startling her. “What…?”

  She twisted round to look at him in alarm, as he paced across the kitchen away from her.

  “Just take care, Juliet.” He spun to face her. He looked livid.

  She too got up, confused and fearful. She still clutched the microphone. “What’s the matter, Craig?”

  “I hear you’ve been asking Edgar if I help, or indeed join, James in his cross-dressing.”

  “That’s right. Well, it looked like a woman’s headdress to me. In your drawer.”

  The colour of his face swiftly changed, now deathly pale. “That’s none of your business, Juliet.”

  “But I – ” she began, then just as abruptly stopped. A few moments passed. Then she said, “And the burned timber. You never did say whether there’d been a fire.”

  He lifted the kettle, and slammed it down with unexpected violence. She gasped. Her heart was racing.

  He strode back over to her, and took her by both arms. His touch wasn’t gentle. “Just listen, Juliet. No, I don’t help James with cross- dressing. Or join him. Primitive. I don’t need it. I can change my appearance at will.”

  She felt a jolt in her abdomen. “You mean suddenly look like a different person?”

  He nodded, keeping her within his gaze. “Completely different. It’s all about having a fluid and flexible ego. The shamans have mastered it. Once you’ve learned the skill, it’s like a classic sorcery tale. Shapeshifting. Close friends will fail to recognise you.”

  A creepy sensation travelled up her spine. He released her. She flexed her shoulders and arms for a few moments, trying to calm her breathing. She didn’t trust herself to pursue the subject further. “Shall we sit down again?” she suggested.

  He did so. She settled into her chair once more then held the mike out close to his mouth. “We’ve mentioned the past. Your father Don is here with us right now. Let’s talk about him.”

  Craig reacted with a gesture of light dismissal. But she could see through that. “I understand,” she said, “that he runs a property management company in Yorkshire. He’s a man of the world, rooted in practicalities.”

  “True.”

  “He must struggle to come to terms with what you’re doing here.” Did Craig find this line of questioning offensive? She couldn’t tell.

  “Perhaps so,” he said coolly. “If by practicalities you mean the worship of profit, then naturally his values fly in the face of all that the community stands for.”

  “But he was involved in the purchase of this property, wasn’t he? And he
freely chose to join you here.”

  His lips tightened. He said nothing. She’d hoped he might open up on the subject. But it didn’t look like he planned to provide her with any clues. They both remained silent for a few moments.

  She rested her elbow on the table. “Let’s talk again about some of your teachings, Craig.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Do you believe in reincarnation?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You believe we’re perfecting ourselves through many lives? What evidence do you have? How do you account for the existence of evil?”

  “I don’t waste too much time agonising about it, Juliet.” A cryptic gleam entered his eye. “Shall we say the destiny of an evil man is to come back as a slug?”

  She could detect no sign that he was joking. She felt like slapping him. “Really? That seems a bit hard on the slugs. Are we to understand that they are what they are as a punishment for wrongs done in previous lives?”

  “Yes. Tough, isn’t it?”

  How she’d have loved to shake him! But that was out of the question. She sensed his hostility increase. Perhaps it was better to move on to the next subject: the fears for her sister that had brought her here in the first place. “I’m worried about Zoe.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “I still can’t see what effect your ideas might have on her. She’s looking for something to focus her life; but what sort of focus is this that you offer?”

  He laughed. “Your worry is totally misplaced.”

  “You think so?”

  He gave her a long, steady look. “Would you turn your machine off?”

  She obeyed, then regarded him again challengingly. “Zoe’s going through a very changeable stage. No wonder she was attracted to this Centre. She hasn’t stuck at anything at all since leaving university. Not, I admit, that that’s too big a deal. Many go through it. But the point is how can this be the right place for her to end up?”

  “Who says she is to end up here?” He wore a frank, even innocent expression.