“That’s not what’s bothering you, though.”
“Partly, it is. I’m scared I’ll fail to challenge her because of my love for her. But then I feel ashamed of my weakness. Guilty I’m letting her down either way. I’m in a mess.”
“She gets under your skin, doesn’t she? She has from the beginning.”
He groaned and lay back on the earth resting his head on a small log. “The most challenging part came later, after we’d played in the lake, enjoying each other, and I watched her relax and let go. She began to apologise for her struggles. Great waves of love for her swept over me, and I had to reign myself in. The worst was when she insisted I tell her what I was thinking. So much of me just wanted to gather her up. I’m not sure what I wanted. Instead, I took myself away, before I did damage.”
Homarta smiled at him. “And now you want to be back with her?”
“Of course I do!” An edge to the words sounded impatient, but Homarta knew different.
“This is difficult work we do, isn’t it?”
He twisted to drop his head into her lap. The possum, displaced, ran off in search of food. Homarta’s hands were warm and heavy on his head. Vibrations began their way through his long, silky hair, making paths across his scalp and tracking his neck muscles which stood out to meet her fingers. Gradually, the pain, loss and loneliness eased. Her warm lap against his shoulders encouraged him to sink his whole being into her while she stroked down his shoulders, across his chest and stomach pausing with her hands resting on it. The vibrations flowed through him, filling his emptiness, exciting his desire and elevating him until he floated slightly above her as he would on a wave. After some minutes during which his enjoyment expanded and developed, she grasped his hips and flipped him over bringing him down to lie across her lap. Her hands once more spread their warmth and energy over him, exciting and soothing as she went, until he shuddered and flopped back satiated and relaxed into her lap. “That’s better,” he muttered. She sat, her hands warm on him while her affection flowed through his whole being. She was like a plant, rooted deeply, still and undisturbed.
Eventually, he stirred.
“Homarta, who holds you like this?”
She smiled. “There are Earth Caretakers here. We tend each other. Since I’ve been resting, there’ve been satisfying encounters with one beautiful spirit not far from here. My reservoirs are feeling healthy.”
“I’m glad.” The awareness that he was now ready to return to work sent a wave of melancholy over her, but she rejoiced in two thoughts, having been able to help him, and knowing she herself still had weeks of freedom ahead. Drawing a deep and cleansing breath into her lungs, she blew it out into the air around them. At this, the same thought occurred to them both. “Elaris.”
“Once, she would have been here with us,” Torrenclar said. “She would have been playing in the wind and spreading sweetness everywhere. She is a Caretaker no longer.”
“I’m surprised the Source held her close for so long before changing her,” Homarta raised her brows reflecting on the ways of the Creator, always working with, never against. “It takes time and patience. I have little of that.” Torrenclar shook his head. “How is Flagran managing alone? We started with four, and now he’s carrying the entire weight of it.”
“If I hadn’t come up here, Homarta, I would have been moody and useless to him. But, I sense he needs me now. Things have become complicated.”
She grimaced. “Perhaps, I should come back with you.”
“No,” he said firmly. “The reason you lost your perspective was because you hadn’t taken a break. Since then, you’ve been confined for many weeks and stuck with Irri-tat. You should stay a while longer. Your full powers are certainly returning.” He stretched luxuriously recalling her ministrations with pleasure and gratitude. “Perhaps, you could take up that work full time.”
Grinning, she said, “just for you to get your needs met. I don’t think so. Even when they’re particularly frustrating, people are delightful. Serving the Source with humans gives me considerable satisfaction and reminds me of the pace of change.” She winced. “The enforced restrictions were useful, but it was painful to be in disgrace…again.” Her eyes closed. “Although,” she said, opening them, “even in the darkest part of that, at the beginning, my Eagle was carrying the weight of it, giving me a task to soothe my wounded ego.” The thought of the garden she had left behind brought mixed feelings, especially as Bridey would miss her. “Kus arms were held out for me. I cannot understand Elaris’ perspective.”
“Is it possible it had nothing to do with her? That she was not in any way to blame?” Torrenclar had been pondering this for some time. “If only she had accepted the way the Source saw it. Now she is known as Ravesh.” He shuddered.
At this point, the atmosphere in the cosy and secluded tiny clearing, where they stretched out on the floor of the bush, began to change. Their welcome warmed me. Reaching for their open arms, I kissed them both, saying, “You enjoy this place.”
“Yes, Love,” Torrenclar answered, smiling at me with affection and delight which I was afraid was unlikely to last, and I hated the thought of what I was about to take him through. “You’ve done well here.” And he grinned at me.
“I’ve missed you, Torrenclar.” My heart turns over at these moments in a way most humans would deny. I recalled his fear and confusion one morning on the beach, when he had spent the entire night with his thoughts circling him like carrion seekers; after the earthquake. And they had then, as now, been filled with distress and confusion. He struggled with aspects of our friendship and its demands, obsessing about my nature and attempting to make sense of that which would not clear for him. He complicated what was simple. “You are in a better place now, dear friend.”
“I think so, Love.” He shook his head slowly. “Is it possible spirits should have a mate?” I was surprised he had even raised the subject.
“Can you see yourself with a full time companion over centuries?” He shook his head. “Torrenclar, you like your freedom. You spend so much time with your own thoughts and don’t seek to share them with anyone. Sometimes, not even with me.”
“I wish I could understand the longing. It would make it more bearable.” I wondered about that. It didn’t seem to make much difference to him when we discussed this extraordinarily challenging aspect of the nature and order of things.
“The longing is in your best interests. It should drive you to stretch towards me.” My gaze caused him to squirm, avoiding my eyes. The question grew exponentially until Homarta silently left us. He began to rise imagining he might escape. I stilled him with an outstretched hand. “Sit down. I want to know what’s going on between us.” He didn’t sit, but continued to stare at me, angry now. “What I ask of you in friendship,” I continued, “cannot in any way be replaced with your guilt. It is not a substitute I will accept.” He walked away.
Ignoring the message in my refusal to respond, Homarta called again and again, in an endlessly repeating pattern. It rang until I could bear it no longer. The change in the atmosphere signalled my presence to her, but she waited until I showed myself. Homarta could be determined. It is of course customary for people and spirits to harass me with their needs. This is the way of it. Sometimes, it’s not until they have beaten down the door that I will grant them the favour they seek. But in this instance, Homarta had no favour to request. I sank to the ground opposite supported by a huge gum and slowly raised my eyes to her face. What I saw in it set my heart on a different course from the one he’d left behind him, but I remained where I was, giving her half a smile. She rose and stepped across the distance between us. She cocked her head to one side and pursed her lips. I shook mine, but she squatted in order to meet my eyes, and I could do nothing to prevent it without disappearing. She turned around, and I thought for a moment she was leaving, but instead she sat, forcing her great bulk between my knees and leaning back against my chest making it impossible not to put my arms arou
nd her. These she clasped with her hands. We remained together there all through the night, and my wounds were anointed by her loving.
***
Torrenclar made his way to a lonely surf beach surrounded by intense rocky cliffs. Waves roared as they rushed to smash against them. Here, he attempted to make sense of his position. His first thoughts were that he had stepped across some line with me, and now was in danger of losing his way altogether. He replayed the scene, putting himself into that place where his fear and self-doubt tortured him. Terror overtook him. He could see no way out of the mess. He could not call to me, because he had walked away from a direct command. He tried to give his thoughts a new direction by thinking of Bridey, but this only swamped him with need for comfort and support. Wrestling with himself had been his way forever, and he knew not how to prevent the battle attempting to block it and finding himself circling repeatedly. While Homarta was holding me, Torrenclar was forcing his mind to answer the question, ‘How does a mere spirit ever become good enough for the Creator?’
The temptation to shake him was rejected. It would have been a real danger to our friendship. Even now, he was ready to abandon me because my requests were too difficult to carry out. As he thought of his uncertainty, he felt guilty, then harassed by the fear of the consequences. And so, on it went.
While he struggled, I lay in Homarta’s arms, my head on her breast and my heart soothed as it beat against her diaphragm which rose and fell gently beneath me. My face was hidden. My thoughts my own. But my heart was with Torrenclar in the impossible task he had set himself. It was his nature to be the way he was, and it was mine to mould and stretch until he could more easily choose a useful path for his energies. It was difficult to leave him to it. In the end, events back in Melbourne made it easy for me to find him a way out, however temporary.
Homarta clasped me as I began to rise from my haven, and I allowed her the pleasure of believing she was successful in keeping me for a few moments longer. Then, I lifted off her and kissed her deeply thanking her without words and went to join my friend whose chaos was about to destroy him against the rocks of despair.
“Come, my love,” I said to him. “It’s enough.”
He turned to me in anger thrashing out at me. Pinning his arms, I held them and blew my breath on him softly until he relaxed, falling into me.
“This is not the way, my darling,” I soothed him. “You cannot make it work.”
He rocked, as he attempted to thrash around in my arms. He beat against me with his fists. He even attempted to pull his feet up and kick me away. He had never allowed himself such anger with me, and he could not control it. Then he attempted to verbalise his rage. He screamed. “I have given you everything. I have tried to do your will endlessly. Yet you leave me alone when I am at my most lonely and vulnerable. I hate you!” He struggled out of my grasp, and a flash of guilt buckled him at the knees. I grabbed him before he could gain any distance and looked deep into eyes where I saw the beautiful spirit who was my friend. He averted them and twisted away but could make no progress from my grasp. I was determined.
“Now, you are where you need to be, Torrenclar,” I told him giving him a firm shake. “Now is the time to let yourself be who you are.”
He glared. “What does that mean?”
“It means you must freely give up all your guilt at not being perfect and just love me the way you are.” He groaned and attempted to fall away, but my hands were firm on his wrists, and he could make no progress. I shook him lightly until his rage flared again.
“How dare you pin me? Let me go.”
“How dare I?”
“Don’t pull that one on me,” he shouted. “You give me impossible tasks and then leave me struggling. I cannot and will not bear it any longer.”
If I had let go of his wrists at that moment, he may never have returned to me. Instead, I clasped him with a firm grip around his biceps and pulled him in to allow him to scream into my face; which he did with complete abandon. “You made me like this,” he shouted. “You expect too much of me. I have no idea how to make it work.” His face pulled closer to mine, and the anger was intense. “I can’t do it! I will not do it.” He struggled, but I would not release him. He began to shake. “I’m not strong enough. I don’t understand you. It’s too hard.” And then, he crumpled.
I picked him up and carried him into the sea. Grasping his hand, I dived to the bottom of the ocean and we swam together through its marvellous depths. Large and small passed us, each creature swimming about some business while we absorbed their peace. Whales drew to us calling out, and I answered. Their language was haunting and involved, and it gave me great joy to converse with them. Complexity is beautiful. Torrenclar came along for the ride because he had no choice, but it cleared his head a little and when I pulled him to the surface again he was quieter and calmer. He faced off with me when I let go his wrist.
“I do hate you,” he told me.
I nodded. “And yet, I have need of you, Torrenclar, today. Flagran can no longer keep up with the work, and it would be a bad thing if he collapses as well, wouldn’t it?” Stiffly, he agreed.
“Well then. Go back to them all in Melbourne and do what you do. And do it for me despite your anger.” My eyes were clear, and there was no way out for him. So he nodded; a single barely perceptible movement. And he went.
“Til we meet again soon, my darling.” I called after him, softly.
***
Sandro
This was not to be borne!
A male nurse, coming in to wash him, was shaken away. He tried to verbalise his need to manage by himself, but the man was completely obtuse. By the time he’d thrashed and wrestled to avoid having his genitals taken in another man’s hands, he’d been threatened with another sedative and given up in disgust, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. Fortunately, the curtain was drawn around the bed so Bridey coming in to visit wasn’t subjected to the sight of him being handled like that. The inability to speak was infuriating. When it overtook him, he couldn’t bring even a single word to the surface. When she was allowed access to him, he was sulking and pulled his face away from her kiss. Everything inside had been longing for it, but there was no way to draw her back. She was hurt and confused. Her attempts to communicate were useless, and she looked like she wanted to leave again. But, Josh appeared.
Josh had a way of picking up on the vibes, glancing from Bridey to him and back. “Hey, guys! Bad timing?” Sandro’s head shake was irritable which left him unconvinced. “Well. What’s up?”
The patient frowned and turned away. Bridey said, “Sandro’s in a grump today, I think.”
Josh whistled softly. “Still can’t talk bro?”
He shook his head clamping his eyes shut against their pity. When they opened again, Bridey was walking towards the door thinking to get some coffee and a newspaper, but he misinterpreted the action and called out “No. Don’t go!”
“Whoah!” Josh was delighted and leant over to give him a high five.
Bridey turned and came back and kissed him. He held her for a moment with the good arm squeezing an apology. She pushed back the hair from his forehead and said: “How about some coffee? A newspaper?”
He attempted to calm. “Latte,” he said. They cheered, and he grinned.
“That’s better,” Bridey said seeking Josh’s permission. He waved her away, and she went towards the corridor, her steps interspersed with little skips.
With only the two of them, Josh asked an important question. “Wouldja mind if I moved in with Bridey, Sandro?”
“Please.” He couldn’t resist the excitement at his own cleverness. This meant another high five. “Ask her,” Sandro said. Their delight could not be contained, and they were in danger of disturbing the peace, even though Sandro’s was mostly expressed in grunts. Unfortunately, the male nurse from the washing incident was his staff for the whole shift and came in to see what was up. Instantly, the patient’s face fell back into a sulle
n, unhappy sulk which was where it was when Flagran stepped into the room. They could see him.
He waited until the disgruntled nurse had left the room before he spoke. “Sandro. Josh. What’s up?”
The sight of Flagran cheered Sandro immensely. “G’day,” he said.
Flagran’s face lit, and he came across to congratulate him. But, when he bent to kiss him, as he’d been in the habit of doing while Sandro had been largely unconscious, he was met with a horrified pulling back. He looked at Josh enquiringly.
“Male nurses.” Josh screwed up his face in disgust, and Flagran grinned. He grabbed Sandro by the hair and tilted his face back bending towards him until he called out, “Get off me, you mongrel.” That was his first sentence. Bridey, stepping into the room with coffees and a hot chocolate for Josh, almost dropped the tray. They all stood and stared, as Sandro’s grin spread from ear to ear. The male nurse returned to put a stop to the disturbance but was delighted by their news, and as he couldn’t see Flagran, ignored the noise.
“How would you be if I came to stay at your place for a few days, Bridey?” Josh asked.
Bridey thought about it briefly. “The company sometimes would be good,” she said. “How are you at washing dishes?”
Josh screwed up his face, and Sandro growled. “Study?” He asked. The group around the bed would cheerfully have washed his dishes for a year and given him anything he wanted at that moment. But, unfortunately, with Flagran present, Josh was restricted to the truth. He cringed, and Sandro suspected the computer had hardly been opened.
“Josh’s been ill, Sandro,” Flagran said, winning himself a grimace from the boy.
The look of concern was, according to its recipient, undeserved. “I know you’re paying for it Sandro. That was why I thought I might get more done if I had a home to work in. If you’re sure you two don’t mind? Been a bit crook,” he tried. “Had to live with a woman in Carlton, cos I couldn’t stand up at first. Must’ve been a bug.” The lie earned himself a cuff from Flagran which was duly noted.
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