He paused and looked in her eyes. They had a tinge of disbelief in them.
“Alena? I know, it must sound crazy as hell to you, coming from me.”
“No, of course I don’t think it’s crazy. Shocking, yes, I guess this is how you felt when I finally told you everything,” she answered.
“And that’s not all I’ve been seeing. I can see lights around people. “
“Auras?”
“I don’t know what you’re supposed to call it, but I can see yours. It’s bright purple and blazing around you like crazy. And….spirits.”
“What in the?”
Mike nodded, knowing how strange he must have sounded.
“You have a whole entourage by the way. Spirits. Your ancestors. And man, they’re hardcore, too. Wouldn’t let me tell you until I proved my intentions were good. They’re all around you, Alena, rooting for you. So am I.”
For a few silent moments he gazed into her eyes. “Leen, I…I think I’m a Bridger, too,” he said. Alena was numb with confusion.
“What did you just say?” She was barely able to get the words out.
“I might be a Bridger.”
“Wait, just hold on a second. You’re seeing Shetani, and auras, and spirits now, and on top of it you think you may be a Bridger? Who are you and what did you do to Mike?”
“Leen, I know it’s blowing my mind too, but…maybe some of your…I don’t know…magic…got transferred to me.”
“Why do you think you’re a Bridger?” she dropped her voice to a whisper. Michael undid the second and third buttons of his blue linen shirt and untucked a chain bearing a large, gleaming purple stone inlaid in a setting of five golden cobras.
“When the brightness left, this was around my neck.”
Alena sucked in a quick, startled breath as she brushed her fingertips over the amethyst, feeling its power surge through them.
“How… how did you get this?” she stammered, her thoughts still jostling wildly in her head.
“Alena, I have no clue. None. It’s like some kind of switch got turned on in me through you and now the floodgates are opened.”
“I don’t get it! Did you go through a painting, a mirror? You haven’t met one Being of Light?”
“No, I haven’t gone through any of the things you did. I don’t understand it either, but. I feel like this is all meant to be.”
Alena’s eyes were riveted on Michael’s amulet, examining it. With hesitant fingers she gripped it carefully and then turned it over to study it further. There were symbols intricately carved into its prongs, symbols similar to those burned into her father’s chest. Her thoughts were racing.
“Gloria! I have to speak to Gloria! Mike, just give me a few please, I’ll be right back.” she interrupted and rushed down the hallway to 3A.
“Hi Gloria, how are you?” she said breathlessly when Gloria answered.
“Hey honey, are you all right? Come inside.”
“Yes, yes I’m fine,” she said quickly. Gloria watched as Alena scurried through the door and stood at the sofa.
“Well you’re looking a bit antsy there, what’s the matter?”
“ Gloria look, there’s someone I’d like you to meet, Michael.” Her words were coming in a rush.
“Your gentleman friend, the tall handsome fellow. I know him,” She answered, eyeing Alena again as she ran her hand over her hair and bit her lip.
“Can I bring him by? I need you to….look at him for me.”
“What is this about?”
“Gloria, he just told me that he may be a Bridger. I thought you might be able to take a look at him and get a read or something on whether it could be true. Can’t you sniff this sort of thing out like you did from me?”
“A Bridger. Hmm. Well why would the man make such a thing up?”
“I don’t think he would, I just don’t understand it. Gloria, he’s wearing an amulet. An amulet! And it looks almost exactly like yours. Where the heck did that come from? How can this be? All of the sudden he’s talking about seeing Shetani, ancestors, and auras. No visits from Mary, or Isis, nothing of the sort. Just one day, poof, he’s got powers and an amulet from thin air. Can he really be a Bridger without going through the initiation that I’ve been going through?”
“The two of you have been intimate I presume?”
“Yes, we’ve uh...been…intimate.”
“Of course, Osiris returns through the sacred cauldron.”
“English please, Gloria.”
“Simply put, your womb is his portal, Alena. You initiated him with it.”
“But we’ve had…relations…before and he never turned into a Bridger then.”
“He’s always been a Bridger, but only now have you been standing fully in your powers. Your womb is the temple at which he received his.”
“My God.”
“And love, well it is the most potent and ancient catalyst in the universe.”
“I…I’ll have to come back later. Thanks Gloria.” Gloria grinned as Alena shuffled out of her door as quickly as she’d come.
Michael barely waited for Alena to close the door behind her.
“So what did she say?”
“Mike, you are a Bridger.” She’d recovered from her shock enough to smile.
“Yes! I feel it so strong. Just like you’re here to anchor the black divine feminine, I think I’m here to anchor and resurrect the black divine masculine. It’s fate Alena, it can’t be explained. Divine intervention. Everything happens in its own perfect time right? God just saved the best for last.”
He pulled her close and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. “From the moment I saw you back in school, I knew. I knew that I would always be with you. I’ve probably waited lifetimes.” He brought each of her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “Can’t you see, Alena? We’re Twin Flames. We’re back together to bring massive change to this earth. Again.”
She remembered suddenly—the sweet feel of his spirit, his smile, the call of his soul to hers—every cosmic detail of lifetimes past came flooding back to her. It was at that moment that she knew, without a doubt, that what he said was true, he could see her. She had waited, too. She had waited for lifetimes to be seen, truly seen by his knowing and adoring eyes. There in all her clothes she was naked before him, more vulnerable than she had ever been to any man in her life. She was laid bare and opened to love and to life as he gazed devotedly into her and bore witness to her light. He wrapped his strong arms around her, enveloping her in his protective warmth. Stillness. Heartbeats. Elation coursed through her body rushing joyful tears to her eyes.
“I won’t ever let you go,” Michael said softly. “I’m going to be the man that you and Maya need.”
He held her tighter than ever, their bodies leaning in as one.
TWENTY-EIGHT
It was the evening that Michael and Alena made love as two Bridgers reunited that it happened. She had drifted to sleep in his arms and in the next moment she was standing between two enormous emerald obelisks. Isis towered before her wearing a broad collar of yellow gold and her Staff of Life in hand. Her earlobes bore earrings made of moon and star. In her eyes shone the heartbeat of the cosmos.
“Daughter, you have accepted the quest required of you and so began the advent of your ascension. With you we are all well pleased.” Isis swept her hand toward a crowd of thousands of light beings smiling upon Alena. Alena stood motionless, her eyes surveying the angelic-looking guests before her and the wonders of the temple. It had been made even more magnificent since Tabiry and the priestesses had first ushered her through it. In the center a massive pillar made of solid amethyst throbbed with power, the Crystal of Isis.
“Now Daughter, understand that you have only reached the midpoint of your initiation. Yet it has been decided that you shall receive the powers that have since been presented to you.” Isis turned to the crowd.
“Council of Ancients, Brothers and Sisters of the Great Cosmic Light,” Isis beg
an, “The time has come when we choose another great being in human embodiment. Our daughter shall take her place in the fulfillment of the Divine Plan. She will lead the first string of humanity in Earth to usher in the New Earth. What the Shetani have sought to destroy in the human world shall be made whole. Honor your Dark Mother and all of those who have given their human lives for the Plan by honoring yourself. To you, I give the Power of Transformation.”
The Beings of Light roared with sounds of celebration, returning to silence when Mary Magdalene appeared at Alena’s side.
“Dear One,” Mary said with a broad smile. “You have heeded our call obediently and walked through the open door to your destiny. Keep your faith only on the Christ within your heart. Draw your power from the Divine Flame that is ever aglow inside of your Queendom. Teach your sisters and your brothers to turn away from the illusions of your world and to destroy the Shetani once and for always. To you I give the Power of the Heart.”
At that, Oshun appeared in skirts weaved of solid gold and this time with a garland of hibiscus crowning her head.
“My Daughter, to you I grant the Power of Joy. Show your people the way of unconditional love, compassion, and joy beyond logic. And to your sisters, show them the way back to their honey magic. You are this. You are Joy.”
Suddenly Isis began again, “Blood of Isis, magic of Isis,” she said. A strange gold instrument materialized and hovered midair, its sharp point fashioned into the shape of an Ibis’ head and beak.
Isis pricked Alena’s finger with it, drawing a sole carmine drop of blood. Next appeared a small, gold sarcophagus richly adorned in carnelian and lapis with ankh symbols engraved into it. Isis held it reverently in the palm of her hand.
“This, is your womb, My Daughter,” Isis said to Alena. The box opened slowly. From it Isis withdrew a glorious amulet and upon its stone she placed the single drop of Alena’s blood from the instrument. Once her blood met with the jewel it pulsed with a glow of the three powers she had been granted. Isis placed the amulet around Alena’s neck.
The amethyst’s illumination against her throat set off a million points of light that pierced into her flesh and past the boundaries of her body. She felt the powers course through her like a flash of three fires snaking from the tips of her toes and flaring out through the crown of her head. A deluge of violet fire rained down on her and she stood joyfully engulfed in the divine flames.
“Kneel,” Isis commanded.
Alena fell to her right knee and bowed her head.
“What have you learned? Confess it with your tongue,” Isis said.
“I have learned that I am Divine, Mother,” Alena answered without effort. The words spilled easily from her mind’s eye to her lips.
“What have you seen? Confess it with your tongue.”
“I have seen my Divinity,” Alena answered.
“What shall you do? Confess it now with your tongue.”
“I shall show your children that they, too, are Divine, Mother.”
“Yes, you will lead them back to their origin.” At that moment Alena’s hand began to glow with the blinding blue light.
“Ah, your inheritance,” Isis said, acknowledging it. “The Sun of Sirius. Your father’s mission is your mission. The Shetani’s poison was what he chose and in the end and he let it overtake him. In his evil ways, he strengthened you, Alena. Your father created a well of compassion within you deep enough to hold the suffering of others and transmute it with your power to heal. He lacked good character in this lifetime, and forced you to find your strength so that you could carry on the torch he could not bear. We need you to know that underneath the darkness, he was a light-filled and valiant soul. He still is. He gave in to the Shetani’s madness but his original intent was to fight for the Plan. Only the family blood, the pure Sirian blood, can hold what I am about to impart to you.”
A legion of Alena’s ancestors raised their hands and she saw that their hands glowed, too. They too bore the Sun of Sirius.
“The Sun of Sirius is the seed of light that was lent to earth so many years ago before the fall of man, it is a purifier. And now, in addition to your new powers, we shall grant you the Flame of Restoration. With this gift your very touch holds the power to restore sacred memory from the divine heart. It can return the brain to the memory of royalty, of the original glory and to one’s divine purpose. In your hand is revolution. You hold the power to return the consciousness of the black race to its original glory. My Daughter, you are hereby exalted to my Tribe. Welcome,” Isis announced.
A roar of applause and cheer echoed throughout the Council.
Isis rapped the ground five times with her Staff of Life to conclude the Initiation. Five, the number symbolizing great change.
TWENTY-NINE
The morning was swathed in an uneasy stillness that Alena had sensed in her spirit before she even opened her eyes. It was the morning of the Spring Equinox. The energy thinned the air and seized the winds, rousing her from a sound sleep. She rose and peered through the window to the blackened snow drifts and leafless trees lining the streets. Even the sidewalks were sparse and quiet. This was her moving day. After nine months, she was leaving East Church Street for a beautiful brownstone apartment in Park Slope. As she stepped out into the morning air, Alena filled her nostrils with the sharp cold of the new day. She felt it again; something lurked just beneath the calm. She tried to release the feeling as she dropped Maya off at Gabriel’s and went about her day.
That evening when she returned to her old neighborhood for the final time, Alena was greeted with a cacophony of screaming and wailing, both from sirens and from forlorn women. It was coming from a growing mass of people just a block from her apartment. Their eyes were aghast and fixed on the sidewalk. She pushed her way through the chaos trying to peer over their heads.
“What’s happened here? Excuse me, I live here. What’s happened?” Alena asked anxiously.
“Pigs shot a child. A baby.” One of the neighborhood women spat with disgust as she shook her head in disbelief. “Killed a goddamned baby.”
Alena felt a tug at her coat. One of the neighborhood boys she’d seen from time to time had grasped her sleeve. “Miss, over here,” he said. Alena let the boy lead the way to the opening in the crowd and her eyes were horror-struck, too. There on the sidewalk Benjamin’s small body lay where it had fallen after a police officer’s bullet had pierced his heart. The concrete was stained with his blood.
“My God! Oh my God! Takeah’s son!” she cried out. Her hand flew over her mouth in shock. A sense of nausea gripped her and bowled her over to her knees. “No! Not BJ!” Alena’s screams joined with those of the swelling crowd rushing behind her.
One of the men yelled. “Where’s the ambulance? Where the fuck is the ambulance? Can’t they at least put a sheet over him and give that boy some dignity? See, they don’t give a fuck about us. Out here killing us off, don’t care who goes down. Any other goddamn day five-o be swarming this bitch in five seconds. This shit is bullshit man. They want us all dead.”
She looked up to see Takeah restrained by two officers, her face twisted in horror. “My baby, they killed my baby…” Takeah shrieked over and over, her eyes fixed on her boy as she sobbed wildly.
Alena fought her way through the swelling crowd and rushed over to her. Gloria was not far behind. Incapacitated with grief, Takeah tottered on her legs until the weight of her limp body started to fall to the ground. Two men helped to catch her before she hit the ground. Alena grasped her arm and Gloria fanned her face with her scarf.
“Please, bring her with us. Quickly,” Gloria whispered urgently. The two men raised Takeah to her feet and whisked her through the crowd behind Gloria. A woman, a mother, without hope. The sense of injustice boiled inside of Alena so wildly it was as if her own child lay dead in the street. She felt that at any moment it would break through her skin and detonate the world.
“Get her in here; bring her in here, please. Lay her on th
e bed. Yes, just lay her right here,” Gloria instructed the men into her apartment. “Thank you, brothers, so much.”
“It’s the least we can do, Ma’am. It was bad enough she had to see her boy shot up like that, then the cops got the nerve to treat her like she the criminal. It’s a damn shame. They better pray Bengy’s peoples ain’t get they badge numbers or else they gonna be some five-o turning up missing. Anyway, you call us if you need us. My name is Brotha Ski, that’s my number here.” He passed his business card to Gloria. It read, “Ski’s Imported Oils and Such.”
“Thank you,” she said before they turned to leave.
Gloria pulled Takeah’s shoes off and tucked her under the blanket. Takeah whimpered and turned her head to vomit. Gloria laid a cold compress against her forehead.
“Shouldn’t we call someone?” Alena said frantically. “An ambulance? She looks like she’s in shock.”
Gloria swatted away her words with a wave of her hand and shook her head.
“Those doctors won’t do a thing for her except give her a night’s stay in the psych ward and send her home with some Valium. Just let her rest here for now. If she needs more attention then we’ll call. What she really needs right now is love. And prayer.”
“Does she have any family we can call to help comfort her? Bengy!” she cried, fresh grief weakening her voice. “Does someone have her boyfriend’s number?”
Gloria waved her hand again. “The man who almost killed you? Think straight now! If that boy isn’t still in prison he’s already on his way here, I’m sure. What I’m not sure of is how much help he’s going to be to this poor girl.” Gloria peered through the blinds onto the courtyard and shook her head slowly. The crowd had grown after Benjamin’s body was taken away and the officers demanded they disburse. Night had fallen over them along with their thickening grief and anger.
“This neighborhood is going to burn to the ground if that Bengy fellow and his friends have anything to do with it. These young people are tired. And for what they did to little Benjamin. Time is up,” she sighed deeply. “The Shetani are busy.”
A Fistful of Honey Page 22