by B. G. Thomas
When he had come around to the direction where he started, he nodded and then placed the blade back on the altar.
“And now we call to the Watchtowers, asking them if they will, if it pleases them, join us tonight.” He looked at Cedar and nodded once.
Cedar was already standing at the north side of the circle, and he turned and faced outward. “Spirits of the North,” he called out. “We ask you this evening to attend our Circle. Element of Earth. Element waiting to be awakened on this Solstice. Element of soil under and between our toes. Dust that makes our bodies and to which we will return. Come to us!”
Cedar swiveled back around on his heel like a soldier, eyes flashing. Wyatt’s heart sped up. Perfect. His words were perfect!
He turned to Sloan, wished that his friend could have gone last, gotten more hints on what to do. He looked so nervous. It was clear that Asher and Peni had reasons to claim the directions they’d claimed. But Sloan? Of course, except for Cedar, none of them really knew what they were doing. And was there anyone here that really knew what to do?
“Sloan?” he said.
Sloan bit his lip. And then he turned around, facing the east, and, voice quivering ever so slightly, said, “Spirits of the East, we call to you this evening and ask that you join the Circle. Element of Air.” He went quiet for a seemingly endless moment, and then he continued, voice going stronger as he went. “First breath that a baby takes. Breath that my mother believed God breathed into Adam. Gentle wind that brings to me and the whole neighborhood the scent of the hyacinths from her garden. Breeze that plays the music of her chimes that she loved so much. Please join us!”
The words took Wyatt’s breath away. They were even more perfect than Cedar’s. So personal. So powerful. Exactly what this Circle, any circle, needed. And when Sloan turned around, there were tears in his eyes, and he smiled at Wyatt and Wyatt’s heart filled with love. I love you, he mouthed to his friend, and smiled when the silent words were returned.
He looked to Asher, gave him a single nod.
Asher returned the nod, smiled a gentle smile, and visibly swallowed. He turned to the south and after a brief pause, let his voice ring out. “Spirits of the South, we call out to you and ask that you join us tonight. Element of Fire. Element of our souls. Fire that flames across the branches of that ancient bush, but does not burn it. Flame of the burning coals that the seraphim touched to Isaiah’s lips and took away his iniquity and forgave his sins. Pillar of fire that led the Israelites out of captivity in Egypt. We invite you to join us.”
Wyatt’s eyes had gone wide, his heart beating faster. Asher’s words…. Again! Perfect! He had made this personal as well. He had known. Tears welled up in Wyatt’s eyes. How had Asher known?
He took a deep breath and turned to Peni. Had Cedar’s eyes been flashing? There was that and more in Peni’s black eyes. A virtual storm. Once more Wyatt could scarcely breathe. There was power here. The hair on his arms was standing up. He thought he could almost smell the ozone. Was he the only one? Was he just imagining it? Could anyone doubt that the Spirits of the Watchtowers were arriving?
Peni turned slowly to the west, his movement graceful, his lava-lava (now hanging to his ankles again) swirling around him and revealing his pe’a, and once more Wyatt felt that power in the room as it cranked up another notch. What Peni had gone through to get those black marks of deep-set ink…. Yes! There was magick there!
“Spirits of the West,” Peni cried. “We call to you tonight and ask you to join us, o ou uso—my brothers—in this Circle. Element of Water. Element of our blood, seed of our loins, To Sua—water exists within. Of the seas and fresh water that Tangaloa-fa’a-tutupu-nu’u brought forth from the Rock. Tilafaiga and Taema swam through you to bring the basket full of tattooing tools to Samoa. Please, oh Spirits, join us tonight.”
There were tears running down Wyatt’s face by the time Peni turned. Not in his wildest fantasies had he imagined that anything like this would or could happen tonight. This was wonderful.
This was true friendship.
That his friends would not only do this for him tonight, but join with all their hearts.
Wyatt opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again to no avail. There was so much emotion.
He took another breath and let it out slowly… and began again.
“Thank you, my brothers, for your special gift. I have no doubt that the Spirits of the Elements are here with us tonight, helping us work our magick. I feel them.
“Tonight is the time for looking forward, for moving forward, for calling forth what will come and manifest all that we wish to come. The Solstice is when the Oak King challenges the Holly King to rule the world and his half of the year. Should he win, he will bring new life and challenge us to grow.”
Wyatt took his wand in hand—one he had carved himself from a hawthorn branch from Camp Sanctuary—raised it straight up over his head, and closed his eyes. “Ground yourselves, my friends. Close your eyes. Imagine that you are a tree, your body the trunk, your arm the branches, and your feet sinking like roots into the ground. Imagine that they are roots. Feel them extend down, down, down….”
Wyatt could see it in his mind’s eye. He could feel his feet, feel them rooting, growing, reaching downward.
“We are pulling energy up from the earth, pulling in the power of the earth, letting it nourish us and fill us. Feel it in your feet, feel it running up and flowing into your body—the trunk, your legs, your thighs, your cocks, your ass, your torso, your chest, your heart. This is ours to take. A gift of the Mother. Let it run up into your face—”
Wyatt could feel it!
“—and up your arms and into your fingers—”
He could feel the energy, and his skin tingled and even his fingers felt hot. He let all of that rise up through the wand.
“—and now out! Let it rise up above you into the air and into the night sky! And let it rise and rise and rise until finally, it slows and falls like gentle rain onto your heads and your body and down into the earth again, a continuing cycle. Taking and giving and receiving and giving again….”
And Wyatt could feel that too. He’d felt it before. But there was something different about this time. It had never felt so wondrous, not even at Men’s Festival in a Circle of a hundred men.
He waited. Rode with the feeling. Let it fill his heart with gladness. Finally opened his eyes.
“My brothers,” he said, “we are grounded and ready to work our magick.”
CHAPTER SIX
“I’M GOING to guide us in a simple meditation,” Kevin told his friends.
“A meditation?” Cauley asked. “No magic? I mean, I was hoping for some magic.”
Kevin shook his head. “No magic. Except for the magic that is always there around us.”
“Oh,” Cauley said. “I was hoping for….” His voice faded away.
“For what?” Kevin asked, and then quite suddenly knew.
“Nothing,” Cauley replied quietly, lowering his head, his face totally lost in shadow now.
“Cauley,” Kevin said, his voice barely above a whisper. God. Was Cauley hoping for some kind of magical healing ritual? If so, it was certainly nothing he knew how to do.
He got up from his chair and went to one knee, ignoring the melting snow. Reaching out, he took Cauley’s gloved hand in his own. “I don’t know how to work magic. Not really. Nothing more than any of us.”
Cauley lifted his face and, God, in the light from the flames his face looked almost like a death mask. “Why did this have to happen to me?”
Kevin had no idea how to answer. Did anyone? His mother had asked the same kind of question when his father had an affair on her.
“Why, Kevin? Why? Why did he do it? Was it me?”
He hadn’t known what to say to her then, and he had no idea what to say to Cauley now. But that look on his old lover’s face begged him to say something.
“I… I don’t know, my sweet friend—”
&nbs
p; “Friend,” Cauley whispered.
“I don’t know why anything happens. Not really. I know that I believe what my Wiccan friends say at Festival. That we all come from the… well, they say the Goddess. And to her we will return. It’s a circle. None of us will live forever.” He looked up into the falling snow and Cauley followed his example. The big flakes fell on their faces, and when they looked at each other again, Cauley’s eyelashes looked like downy feathers. In seconds they melted away into tiny drops, catching the firelight like crystals.
“We are all the same,” Kevin said. “Us. The snow. The fire. We’re made up of stars. We’ve been around forever, and we return to that energy, and we come back again and again. I believe that.”
“Will I come back?”
In some form, thought Kevin.
“I think it would make me happy if I came back as a snowflake and I could fall on your face.”
Kevin’s heart swelled with both love and sorrow at those words, and he couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss Cauley on the mouth. He kissed him hard. Fully. Nothing chaste about it. He wanted Cauley to feel the love he would always have for him.
When he sat back, Cauley gasped. “Oh, Kevin.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “Thank you for that.”
Kevin swallowed hard, nodded.
“So let’s get on with your meditation,” Cauley said with a little laugh.
“You got it,” Kevin said. “And I have one little ritual planned as well.”
“There we go!” Cauley exclaimed. “I knew we could get something in there!”
So Kevin returned to his chair, caught Theresa’s eyes (she had been so quiet), brushed away the little snow that had accumulated on his seat (this close to the heat of the fire it was like they were in a protective bubble), and sat down. “All right, then. Everyone close their eyes.”
Theresa did as bid, and through the flickering of the flames, he could see Cauley had as well.
“Now. I want you to imagine that you are standing. You turn away from the fire, and you walk into the dark. Feel it all around you. But wait! Surprise. It’s not cold. If anything, it’s nothing. Just very comfortable. Perfect….
“Then… there ahead of you… you see a door. It’s red. There is a single light on that door and you go to it and open it. You are not afraid. You know there is something good inside waiting for you. And yes! To your surprise you are looking out at a beautiful summer day and you are surrounded by a field of red zinnias.”
He was using part of the Queer God Ritual from Men’s Festival, but modifying it for his own use. Making it simpler. That ritual could go on for a long time, and he had an idea that Cauley was good for maybe a half hour more out here. Maybe less.
“See them? Can you see the zinnias?”
“Yes,” said Theresa. “I—I can….”
“I think so,” Cauley said. “Yes. Me too…. May I pick one?”
“Yes,” Kevin said. “Pick as many as you want.”
“Just one,” whispered Cauley.
“Now we are going to walk through the field. We don’t hurt them. They almost seem to part for us. And as we walk, we see something ahead. The red… it’s ending. They seem to be getting taller. Oranger. And yes! It’s poppies!”
“Like in The Wizard of Oz,” Cauley said with delight.
“But these aren’t deadly. They don’t want us to go to sleep. They fill us with their orange. Orange light. Orange life. And just like the zinnias, they part for us….”
“I’m picking one of these too,” Cauley said.
“Me too,” Theresa said. “I love poppies.”
“And look guys! Up ahead.” Kevin could see it all as well. A field that went forever. But…
“…but up ahead the flowers are changing again. Yellow! It’s yellow sunflowers. All different shapes and sizes. And yellow. See them?” He could. “Feel them….”
“So beautiful,” said Theresa. “Warm.”
“Yes,” Kevin agreed. “So warm. Like heat on sore muscles. Or warm water on tired feet.”
“Warm,” Cauley said in a voice Kevin could barely hear. “Picking one….”
“And we’re walking… walking….”
“I think it’s changing again,” said Cauley.
“Yes. It is. Can you see what it is?”
“Green,” Cauley said. “It’s green! Right? Green?”
“Yes,” said Kevin. “Green, lush ferns.”
“And those flowers you gave me for my birthday last year,” Cauley said, excitement in his voice. “Bells of Ireland or something like that!”
Kevin smiled. Yes. Moluccella laevis. He could see them too. Tall stalks covered in bell-shaped green flowers. One of his favorites, and one day he would live somewhere where he could have an actual garden and grow them himself.
“Yes,” Kevin agreed aloud. “Bells of Ireland. And they radiate life. Green life. Filling us with their growing energy.”
“Picking just a tip,” Cauley said. “A small one. I’m making a bouquet.”
The thought made Kevin smile again.
“We walk. We keep walking. It is a wonderful day. The walking is easy—”
“Flowers parting,” said Cauley.
“—and we don’t get tired. And up ahead….”
“They’re changing,” said Cauley.
“Blue,” said Theresa.
“Blue,” repeated Kevin. “Big, huge hydrangeas. Some as big as your head.”
“Ooooh…,” said Cauley.
“They feel cool,” said Kevin. “Can you feel it? Can you feel the cool?”
“Soothing,” said Theresa.
“Soothing,” echoed Cauley.
“We are walking through a field of hydrangea bushes. Weaving through on a tiny path. And any hurts we have? Any pains? Why, the coolness of the hydrangeas are taking them away.”
“Soothing,” Cauley said again. A whisper.
“And now the bushes seem to be shrinking. Getting smaller. Making way for… indigo. Indigo irises. Stunning, gorgeous irises. So many. Everywhere!”
Kevin was totally lost in the vision he had created for them now. He was there. There completely. He could see Cauley standing to his left, looking strong and healthy like he had on that first day they met in Central Park. He was glowing. Surrounded by a golden aura. Kevin looked to his right, and there was Theresa, looking resplendent. Like a fairy queen. Or a goddess.
He sighed. And moved on. “We keep going,” he said. “Keep walking and look…. There. Just up ahead of us. Shrinking again. And this time for purple violets. Violets as far as we can see.”
Gorgeous.
“But this time, instead of going on, we lay down. We lay right down in the violets. And they are like a warm blanket. A thick blanket. We lay down on our backs.” Kevin could see, now deep in a near hypnotized state. Drifting along…. “And they fluff up around us, and we look up into a beautiful sunny sky. The sky so very blue, with only a puff of pure white cloud, and the light of the sun is so warm, so golden. And the violets. They fill us with their purple power.”
“Queer power,” Cauley said quietly, the awe clear in his voice.
The words surprised Kevin. Purple was the queer color. Had been for thousands of years. Gay men had identified each other by wearing amethyst. But how had Cauley known that?
There really was a kind of magic in the world, he thought.
Kevin all but whispered, “Now my friends—”
A piece of wood popped in the fire pit.
Now is the hard part!
Or at least potentially.
“—this is where we’re going to do a little bit of work. It might sound hard, but it’s worth it. I want you to use your imagination. I want you to think of something that happened this past year that no longer has a place in your life. Something you are done with. Over. See it in your mind, floating over you. Picture it. Picture it blocking your view of the lovely sky.”
Kevin allowed himself to do what he asked of them. Wouldn’t let
himself wonder what Cauley might be seeing.
He saw too much time in an office where he no longer worked day to day. He saw a city that, even though he loved it, kept him from the Land that he loved so much. He let a furtive night in an apartment with a man whose name he didn’t know flash there as well—a night that had made him feel so empty afterward, and the memory of an orgasm that wasn’t even very good.
“Now let the sun blaze through it,” he said aloud. “Let the new-coming sun burn it away. Let it banish those images, those thoughts. Let them burn away with the old year.”
He imagined it. The sunlight poured right through the visions in his mind like a bright light through a piece of celluloid. It got brighter and brighter yet didn’t burn his eyes. It only shone through and through and through and then the pictures were… gone.
After a long moment, he said, “Now picture something you want. Something missing in your life. Something you want to come into your life in this New Year. See it…. See it before your eyes… and pull it into your arms.”
And here was the joke—he’d come up with this idea and gotten his friends to go along with it, and he wasn’t even sure what it was that he himself wanted.
But then to his surprise…
Kevin saw words floating before him, dark against the glowing screen of his laptop…
I just wanted u to know I am free! I have finally dumped my loser lovers ass!
And the echo of a thought…
So Wyatt was single now?
And another image—a sweet, short little man, rounded just the way Kevin liked (padded), with a lightly hairy chest, adorable round little butt (oh! Such a sweet little round butt!), and the darkest eyes, puppy eyes. Saw them cuddled on a blanket on the beach at Camp Sanctuary. Almost felt lips against his own, full and soft and so sweet. Heard his laughter—Wyatt’s laughter.
Kevin let out a gasp.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“THE HOLLY King and the Oak King are battling, my friends,” cried Wyatt. “See them! Feel the energy—the forces of nature that radiate from them! Not destructive. No. This is not evil. This is not war. This is change. This is Creative Force. Feel it hit you in waves.”