Eleven Hundred Sand Dunes

by Helena Phillips

  “I’m sorry.” I look up, and he’s moved closer and is standing over me. The stick is on the ground at his feet. “Woah! That was intense.” He’s fighting himself, and I fear he’ll walk away again. I don’t want him to go. “Please. Just come down here.” I stare at him with longing, and he drops to his knees in front of me. We stay in this tableau together looking love at each other. That’s the only way I can describe it. The air is completely still around us, and the birds are quiet, listening and waiting. Sunlight blinks at us through the leaves and shines down on his beautiful face. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

  He lifts his arms and puts them on my shoulders, “You nearly had Flagran on top of you this afternoon, too.” The cool grey eyes penetrate.

  I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to rile him.”

  “It’s a habit of yours to argue about everything. How you imagine it might be helpful is a mystery to me. Flagran was ready to lose it with you, and you still don’t take the hint.”

  “I’m just not into being bossed around.”

  “Do we usually ask you for unreasonable things? Don’t we normally save that for when it’s important? Can’t you tell the difference between being asked to do something on a whim and an instance where your quick response might be vital?”

  Ashamed, I hang my head, but rather than relenting, he presses on. “What do you think it means to me to have you refuse to come with me? What is it you think I’m asking of you?”

  “I don’t know,” I wail. “I wanted to come. I just felt guilty about wanting to.”

  “Guilty about what?”

  “Sandro. No wonder he feels threatened. It makes me so guilty.”

  He’s pressing his forearms into me, and I’m desperate for him to stay. He stiffens, but he doesn’t pull away. “Flagran hates having to challenge someone the way he did Sandro this afternoon. He needs your support. He needs friendship and trust. It’s all any of us ask.” I chew this over. But the clincher is still to come. “How do you think it is for me when you treat me as though I can’t be trusted with you?”

  He pauses. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, and he drops his arms as though he’s half talking to himself. “Of course. I wrecked that, didn’t I? I had forgotten.”

  I put my hands on his shoulders now willing him to face me. “No! No! Don’t say that! That’s not how I see it at all. It’s not about you. It’s about Sandro.” He stares into my eyes trying to work out if that’s real. I fix them on him, and he smiles sadly. I stroke his face with my hand and run my fingers over his lips. He leaps to his feet and turns his back, and I know what he’s thinking. I am on fire. It’s news to me. But. Somehow it’s okay. I stand and call to him quietly, and he turns and gives me a sad grin.

  “Isn’t this place exquisite?” I say. He nods. Then he puts his arms around me and holds me against him for a while. “Don’t turn away from me, Bridey. You are safe with me; as safe as you feel with Homarta, only different.” The feeling of his shoulder against my cheek and his body against mine is full of excitement and longing. He asks me if he can kiss me, and I nod. He leans towards me and softly presses warm lips to mine lingering for a minute then pulling back and offering me the most tantalising smile. “Thank you,” he says.

  We decide it might be time to walk back towards dinner. He holds my hand all the way, and when, as we approach the camp, it tries to pull away without my permission, he stops, turns towards me and glares. “That didn’t last too long.” It’s mortifying and completely out of my control.

  I stand on tiptoe and kiss him.

  “That’s better,” he smiles. “You’re forgiven.” Dropping my hand, he leads the way to where Homarta is cooking.

  “Is he awake?”

  Homarta shakes her head. “Not sure. But you can go into him now, if you like. I’ll call you for dinner.”

  ***

  Sandro

  The sounds and smells of evening around the camp came to him as he struggled out of a heavy, post sleep, drowsy feeling of dread. Homarta was singing softly to herself and, as he lay listening, the song wound around his brain, pulling it out of the darkness into reality and the realization that dinner smelt good; perhaps it was time to rouse himself and offer some help. When he turned over, his muscles complained. Then he remembered the fight with Flagran. Anger shot through him, and at exactly the same moment, the picture of crawling towards him on his hands and knees flooded back. He’d been held. It was safe there, and then Flagran had left. Tears ran down his cheek just as the zip on the tent alerted him to someone coming in. Quickly brushing them away, he sat up, unwilling to face things lying down. It was Bridey. Her expression was wary, but gentle.

  “Do you mind if I come in?”

  “Of course not.” His voice was thick.

  “Would you like a drink,” she asked.

  Coffee would have been lovely, but that was too much trouble, so he asked her for water. “No worries. I’ll be back.”

  It gave him a chance to pull himself together. She was gone a while. When she crawled in again, she said, “I’ve put the coffee pot on. Homarta’s going to bring it in when it’s ready.” She handed him a water bottle, and he took a long drink, lying back down exhausted. She knelt on the edge of the bed waiting for a cue, so he beckoned; the warmth and softness of her body grounding him until Homarta stuck her head in with the coffee.

  This meant sitting up with Bridey and felt more formal. Tension tugged. The elephant in the room was him of course. Instead of waiting for him she said, “It’s been a big day. I just went for a walk with Torrenclar while I was waiting for you to wake up. Homarta wouldn’t let me in.”

  Some response was required and, searching around for the right answer, he found this. “How did that go?”

  She flushed. “It was lovely. At first I wanted to stay with you but everyone told me I had to go with Torrenclar. Not just suggested it. Insisted. Flagran was ready to explode when I resisted and that really frightened me. It felt like Torrenclar was angry too. Walking with him was scary. But instead, the peace of this place took over.” With slight hesitation, she added, “He kissed me. He asked me if it was alright, and then he kissed me on the lips.”

  “What sort of a kiss?”

  “Gentle.”

  “He’s a good one, isn’t he? He was holding me out there like I was a child in his arms. It felt extremely secure. There’s no way he would go from looking after me like that to going behind my back with you. It’s difficult to get used to this stuff.” She was staring at him as though he was from outer space. “It makes it easier when you talk to me about it.”

  “I was going to say no. In fact, I did say no, but there was absolutely no choice about it. Flagran was frightening. I thought he was going to hit me. In fact, I’m sure he wanted to.”

  Recalling his own expectation of having his face slapped at one moment that afternoon, he flinched. “He said some horrible things to me. I deserved them, but he seems to have suddenly cracked. He held onto me though, when I needed it.” He reached out for her, but the coffee was in the way. “Are you okay?”

  When she nodded, he said, “Do you know, Bridey, I’ve been more jealous of Homarta than Torrenclar lately.”

  She was stunned. “Why?”

  “Because she’s always got her hands all over your body, and you love it.” Just in time he stopped himself from telling her that she never let him do that. The thought of Flagran slapping him was a big deterrent.

  “Would you like it to stop?”

  “No. Then I’d have to feel bad about shutting something down. I just need to get over myself. Pull my head in. If you’d let me stuff up sometimes that’d help.” Her melting look made him sweat all over. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. My body’s not up to it. There’s no energy left.” Silently, he pleaded for understanding, and she said, “That’s okay. It would have been lovely because it’s been too long. Anyway, dinner’s ready.”

  When their lips touched everything down below jumped
to attention with hope. Before they left the tent, she said, “Josh is upset about you.”

  “Oh God. I’m not up to that tonight either.”

  “Of course not. Just smile at him or something. Let him know you’re alright. He won’t pry.”

  Gathering his resources, which would have been lonely in the smallest plastic zip lock bag, they went out to face the crew. Their three sites included a kitchen tent making it look like the Caretakers were campers as well. The fire blazed. Somehow, Flagran always managed to make it look bigger than should’ve fitted inside the small grills you were supposed to use in this camping ground. They had their rules, but they liked Flagran, and, as there were no other campers and it was the middle of winter, it didn’t seem to matter. Homarta had a pot steaming on the coals emitting heady aromas.

  The Caretakers raised their heads. Sandro went to stand behind Torrenclar and Flagran where they sat in front of the fire and put his hands on their shoulders letting his body lean into them both. A shot of love flowed through him. It was intense and indescribable, and felt as though it had come from somewhere else. Then he kissed them each in the way he would have kissed his father if he’d been there. In all his time of living with Jarrod that had never happened. Josh was staring at him.

  “You and I are doing some work after dinner, mate. The tent. Eight o’clock sharp! These two will have to do the dishes.”

  Flagran leant backwards and grabbed hold of Sandro’s waist pulling him forward and over his chair which tipped as Sandro sprang on him, wrestling him to the ground. Torrenclar leapt up and moved out of the way at one point, catching Josh’s anxious look and giving him the come on, join in, signal. The two of them onto one Caretaker was not at all balanced, but it gave them great satisfaction. One sore leg and a gammy arm made Sandro pull out way before any damage, but Josh was on a roll, literally. Flagran must have been going easy on him because, as they moved around the grass, Josh landed a jab or two.

  “Give him a few from me Josh!”

  It was a big mistake. In an instant, he was out from under Josh and heading towards Sandro. He picked him up in his iron hold shaking him. Then he lowered him to the ground grabbing him up against his body and almost squishing the breath from him. As he held on, suddenly it became clear Flagran had been hurt. It was not just about them. It was also about him and the cost of challenging. No wonder he’d held back. Sandro hung on. When his eyes opened again, the rest of the group were staring at them. Flagran gradually unlocked his hold until his face was visible, and the pain in it kicked Sandro in the guts. Gently, he pulled the Caretaker towards him again and, using his sleeve, wiped his face. Then Flagran stepped back, flashed a quick grin and walked away to gather himself. While he was absent, the three humans, despite their concern, tucked into the stew wolfing it down. Bridey gathered plates and carried them over to the wash up dish. Then she also disappeared.

  ***

  She’d gone in search of Flagran, and it took some time. Unless he’d wanted to be found, it would have been a fruitless quest. He began walking towards her just as she’d decided to give up the search. With a wry smile, he held out his arms. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I can’t work out what came over me.”

  She shook her head. “Yes you can. I was being a pain.”

  “I almost hit you.”

  “I know. I’m glad you didn’t.” She snuggled her head into his shoulder absorbing his warmth and friendship. “I’m sorry I make it so difficult sometimes. I forget you’re a person and think you’re tough enough to cope with anything.” She hesitated. “Even though you’ve shown me that’s not true.” He put his head on her shoulder, and she cradled it in her hands. Suddenly, he lifted it.

  “I have to go now.” He disappeared.

  ***

  The Source

  “COME.”

  He had obeyed instantly, alert and afraid. I took him to a place far north of there where the scrub was wild and thick. There were no human inhabitants but, earlier that day, I had set small fires to the east in damp patches and encouraged a light breeze to blow the resulting smoke across several hundred hectares of wild land encouraging its animal life to evacuate to safety. He gazed around him, puzzled and apprehensive about what this might mean.

  “Make use of this place Flagran. Clear it up for me. Be back Saturday to see the humans home.”

  He hung his head and received the words without hesitation. It was like I had no connection with him that he could remember. “Are you angry, Lord?”

  “Flagran! How is it you can call me Lord? Where is our friendship? Why do you not turn to me when you are in pain?”

  He began to speak, but I moved towards him and placed my fingers across his lips holding them there. He kissed them. When I released my pressure, he grimaced. “I’m a mess, My Core.”

  “We will talk after you have returned to yourself, my dear. Remember my love for you whilst I’m away.”

  The fire, aided by a sudden savage wind, was wild. Dramatic balls of it rose from the dense bush and were chased for kilometers round and around in circles whipping up speed and intensity as they made their way across the land. As each dimmed, another was swept into the frenzy. A massive wall of flame rushed towards the desert sands as though its journey was timed and the end point about to move out of reach. Flagran ran through it, behind and at times above it, as he took refuge in the towering trees shrieking down at them in excitement. He made daring leaps between them, swinging his body from hand to foot; hanging down and screeching maniacally at the blaze as though it were the enemy coming to take him hostage. All through the night he chased it, and by the following morning was slowing down content to bear witness to its effect on the scrubland as it cut great swathes through grass and bush. Then he rallied leaping to his feet and danced a crazy polka shouting his thoughts to the wind. He made many mad dashes to the rescue of small creatures, but few remained to meet their fate scurrying into narrow holes heading deep into the earth to let the fire pass overhead. At these mercy flights, he took the fire to task making out they were enemies, only to urge it on as soon as it responded to his pleas for mercy and slowed. He spun in wild circles screaming out frustration and confusion. Not once did he call on me. That was not Flagran’s way.

  ***

  I decided to join them around the fire that evening, after Josh had done his school work in the tent with Sandro. For me to join a group required a particular set of circumstances where the love and connection between members was strong. They couldn’t see me of course, and at first the humans continued to jostle each other. Homarta pulled them up, “Guys, we have a visitor.” Startled, the three stared out into the dark night attempting to discern a figure, as Torrenclar laughed.

  “It’s a long time since I appeared in human form, nevertheless I am here.” Only Josh failed to recognise the voice. “It seemed you might want to catch up with me about Flagran’s welfare,” I told them, “so fire away.”

  Complete silence filled the atmosphere with unease. Humans struggle to settle in silence. Homarta came to me leaning into the space where the others saw only light against the dark background. She raised her face for a kiss, and I blew one across to Torrenclar whose face lit. Josh was looking spooked. “Josh,” I said, “Thank you for joining us.” He opened his mouth and only warm air appeared against the cool night.

  “You have been hard on Flagran today, folks. He’s not doing so well tonight.” Three faces flushed rosy, joining the flames of the fire to their skin. “Yet each of you in your own way have attempted to make it right with him. He will be content with that. He knows you love him and did nothing intentionally to hurt him.” Their faces remained fixed on me, waiting. “You, however, have much to learn about the spirit world and who and how to trust.” My gaze drifted with purpose from one to the other, and back again, and although they couldn’t see it, their anxiety rose to a pitch as my attention settled on each. I continued. “Flagran has been faithful to you, has he not?” They nodded, uncomfortabl
e. “Each of you has been blessed by his presence in your lives. You will not fail to recognise this again unless you wish an audience with me about it.” The night went still behind us. Giving it time to speak its warning, I continued. “Few humans receive the privileges of walking with one of my Caretakers daily. You have been committing the grave error of taking it somewhat for granted. This is to cease. Bridey! Will you walk with me please?”

  Me! She was thinking. Why me? Clambering to her feet, she followed me to withdraw into the dark night. She was trembling.

  “When we spoke together last,” I challenged, “you lied to me.” She froze. “But, that was not your greatest mistake. That was in thinking me too dull recognise it.” She gasped, and began to expostulate, but I cut her off. “Many think me too obtuse to know what is going on with the world, and, if it happens that I do, they believe me too disinterested to act. Reality cannot be further from the truth.” She began to shake, and her knees wobbled. I leant over her and grasped her by the shoulders. “Your response is unhelpful. I have no intention of doing you harm. But in the future you will remember this moment between us. You must pull yourself up if you are making the mistake of believing my interest in you must mean I lack intelligence, or am an imposter.”

  Leaving her to digest this, I continued to walk with her while she thought. She had courage. She began to tell me about what she saw as the many gifts bestowed on her lately and how grateful she was. “Every time you speak to me I’m overwhelmed, and I get muddled and say stupid things,” she ventured. “It’s…it’s not that I lack respect…I’m not used to this stuff. I’m sorry, because I don’t deserve you even talking to me like this.”

  “It’s not about creation deserving the Creator. It’s about the creation respecting and valuing its place.” She nodded. “Most of all, I want you to return my love. You can’t do that if you question each and every moment what this is all about.” She agreed, and this time she appeared to understand. “So, I ask you again, Bridey. How can I help you with Sandro?”