Eleven Hundred Sand Dunes

by Helena Phillips

  She sat overawed, obviously traumatised, and it was a while before she spoke. “I know, now, I can’t be part of the group. I’m a horrible person, and I’m not welcome here. I’ve stuffed everything up, and I just need to be left alone.”

  “What do you think has happened to you here, Bridey?” She needed to express this to them. “Are you overwhelmed by being chastised?”

  “No. I deserved to be pulled into line.”

  “Then, why are you leaving us?”

  “Because Homarta told me I was as horrible as my mother, and now I don’t know what else to do. I tried to apologise, and I thought it would be alright, but it wasn’t. Torrenclar won’t speak to me. Flagran’s not my friend any more. I know why. Elaine is a nasty, bossy person. I can’t stand to be near her.” Her tears overwhelmed her, and I gathered her into my lap stroking her hair until she drifted into sleep.

  “Well. Here we are gathering to assess and discern the fault here. Flagran. What have you to say?”

  “Nothing my Core. I’m disgusted with myself.”

  “Homarta, do you see any discrepancies between the standard of behaviour you expect of yourself and the ones you have laid on Bridey?”

  She nodded.

  “Torrenclar, will you take Bridey to Sandro now,” I handed her up to him, “and then return to me. Flagran, gather up Josh and go. We will talk some more as you travel.”

  Homarta remained alone to face me. “You have almost broken her.” She acknowledged it. “Tell me where you are coming from with this.”

  “I wanted her to take me seriously. To see that she is in grave danger of mimicking Elaine’s incredible rudeness. And, I was angry.”

  “And did you not achieve what you set out to do by wiping the floor with her last night? She came to you and prostrated herself. What more did you want from her?”

  “Sandro’s struggles this morning brought it all back again for me. I didn’t think it through enough.”

  “No, you didn’t. Now you have chastised her for going cold on you, and then followed it up by behaving towards her in the same manner.”

  “I am ashamed, Love. There is nothing to justify my behaviour. What would you have me do now?”

  “The impulse to give you some of your own medicine is strong in me.”

  “Yes, Love.”

  “But it will serve no purpose other than to satisfy my anger.” This brought tears to her eyes, and I waited while she struggled with herself. “You must make this right with her. Immediately. She is twenty five and new on the journey. What do you expect of her? You, who have had hundreds of years to adjust your behaviours. And yet you expect more of her than you would of yourself.” She was dismayed hearing it described in this way. “It’s only a very short time since I have had to pull you up for taking things into your own hands. I trusted you with her, and you have let me down.”

  Talking to her in this way was punishment enough. There was no purpose in pursuing it further. I stood, and she remained seated with her head bowed. “What do I need to do now?” she asked me again. I shook my head, and, telling her we would speak later in the day, left her to sort it out and went to walk with Torrenclar.

  He had carried her gently to Sandro, who came towards him. She was in a deep sleep and would remain that way for an hour or so. Sandro attempted to take her but couldn’t with his broken arm. There was an awkward shuffle until he stepped back towards the camp and sat down. Divesting himself of his burden, Torrenclar pulled a chair towards him and sat.

  “What’s happened to her?”

  “She has been confronted with herself in a way that was inappropriate, and now she is in a sleep state while she recovers.”

  “Who did this to her?” Sandro asked savagely.

  “We all did in a way.”

  He glared at the Caretaker. “Why? She’d done her best to mend things. Leave her alone to get over it. She’s sorry. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Yes, Sandro, it is enough. We have each been reacting in our own way today without considering its impact on her. I am sorry for my own part in this.”

  “What was that?”

  “She needed comfort and support from me, and what she received was distance.”

  Sandro bent over her and drew her body up against his chest. “She’s not a bad person. It was a three day temper. I hated every minute of it. But she’s been through a lot. You all need to cut her some slack. She apologised. Leave her alone.”

  “You are completely right. Please forgive me for adding to your burden. The Source wants to talk with me now. I must go. We can take this up again.”

  He had to accept that.

  We walked across the sand dunes, dry, hot and still. This was not his favourite place. We walked for some time to give him an opportunity to centre himself with me. Then he spoke. “I was moody yesterday and today for a number of reasons.” This was true. He found it hard to take a back seat when it came to Bridey. “I am still jealous of Sandro.” When I didn’t speak, he continued. “I wanted to deal with Bridey myself. There was so much turmoil that I kept my distance.”

  “Thank you for the clarity. Unfortunately I cannot give it the space it deserves. At this moment we need to look back. Tell me about your actions since we last spoke of this.”

  He flushed and stood rooted to the spot.

  “I remember warning you about two aspects of your relationship with Bridey.”

  He closed his eyes and waited for the blow to fall. When I answered his silence with a quiet of my own he opened them again and met my gaze. “Please don’t take me away from her, Love.” Quiet strength filled the space around us. The sun beat down upon his shoulders.

  “That will depend on how well you manage the next steps.” His hope filled him with light and his clothes shimmered silver in the dry air. “Return to my request. Tell me about your actions!”

  “I have found it difficult to be with her since Mallacoota.”

  “Why?” If he had not been so anxious about the consequences, he may have argued with the question. He knew it as insistence he answer for his thoughts and actions, rather than a search for information. Again, the silence grew with his discomfort. I pressed down on this.

  “Last we spoke I instructed you to be careful. I remember telling you she was fragile. The last thing I want is to separate you, but you must answer for yourself. Now.”

  “I began to keep my distance, and it made her angry.” I waited. He felt tortured. His resistance to exposing himself in this way was extreme. “I went to her and I set her up to come out and challenge me.” I nodded. The silence grew while he wrestled. “Then I rebuked her for playing games with me,” he began to tremble, “and it gave me great satisfaction and relief of some sort.”

  “You of course were playing games, yourself.” He agreed and turned his face to hide his disgust. “Fortunately, once you saw her fear, you were able to pull yourself up.”

  “It is an incredibly difficult struggle. I want her to fight me so I can feel the sparks between us.”

  “And Bridey? Are you doing her harm?” He stared. “Answer me!”

  “No.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because when we met after, there was more ease between us.” He had lowered his voice, but the words were definite.

  “Then why are you struggling with this conversation?”

  “Because the behaviour is out of character for me. I am floundering and pulling back when I know I should be supporting and teaching her. I am ashamed of my performance.”

  “Sit!” I pointed at the ground, and, when he dropped down gracefully to the sand, I sat beside him. “When you slapped me,” he flinched from the words, “you moved into a new side of yourself which has been previously unexpressed. Since then you have been floundering.”

  “Is it because I hurt you, Love?”

  “You did hurt me, and the pain was intense.”

  “You have never raised it since, though.”

  “How would tha
t have been helpful to you?” He shook his head. “I can bear my own pain, Torrenclar.”

  “I wish you did not have to do so because of my actions. I have continuously regretted it. Each time it comes to mind I am flooded, yet I cannot retrieve it.” He reached across and laid his hand on top of mine.

  “It was the shock. And the way you chose.” Again the silence filled the desert spaces around us, but now they were less fraught pauses. “Perhaps I can forgive you, and you could let it go as I have done.” My smile brought slight warmth into his face. He bent towards me and laid his shoulder to mine. “Now, we must return to Bridey and sort out your most recent decisions. Where were you going with the withdrawal? Is there a chance you thought it might be useful to her?”

  He stroked his chin as he thought about this. “I wish that had been my primary motivation, but I fear it was anger.” My expression, held for some time, made him squirm.

  “You have done great damage to her, and now you must repair it if you can.”

  He hesitated. “I should have seen the danger. I’ve been obsessed with how close I want to be with her, and then lost track of loving her.”

  “I think maybe it’s all beginning to click for you, my friend. Obsession is not love, is it? Your love for me has often been restricted by it. It may contain traces, but they are certainly not the same thing.”

  “It doesn’t get any easier.”

  “I want you to tell her how much you love her. Today.”

  “Won’t that get in Sandro’s way?”

  “If it does, it’s for him to deal with.”

  He left me to take up his challenges, and I sat on the dune reflecting on the order of things before us. This was peaceful. It was time now to take my own direction and sort out Homarta.

  All was quiet in the camp. Bridey had woken and Sandro had taken her for a driving lesson hoping it might distract her. She went unwillingly, and the lesson was a failure because she was unable to focus. Homarta was alone seated in a huge camping chair which only just accepted her bulk. When I appeared before her, she searched my face. “What is going on here, Homarta?”

  “Nothing, Love. Bridey and Sandro want to be alone together. I have no idea of the next steps for me. Are you still angry?”

  I bent towards her, placing my hands on the arms of her chair. She kept her eyes fixed on mine. “You need to come up with something that would help, and soon. Ravisher and Irri-tat will be arriving. You cannot leave Bridey open to their assault like this. Her condition is unacceptable to me.” My face was centimetres from hers.

  “Will you forgive me, Love, because I want you to kiss me?”

  My mouth came towards hers, a long slow movement of anticipation, and then I pulled back from her. As her full rich strength had returned, I, like the others with whom she came in contact, enjoyed it immensely. She was full of creative potential, and wherever she walked on the earth it blossomed under her feet. Other spirits came to her for comfort and renewal, for her wisdom and warmth. Humans were suffused with sensuality which often became a problem for them because it could be at odds with their cultural expectations. She understood this. She adapted to what was needed much of the time. When she was at her fullest, I often played with her, an exchange of loving attention. But there had been several events such as these over the centuries. Feeling her full power and determined to value her own approach above all others, including mine, her willfulness and stubborn refusal to bend became a serious problem. If she continued in this way, she would be back as she was after the earthquake. No matter how much I enjoyed her, she must still find her place in creation and work from there, otherwise the mess could be catastrophic.

  There were many creative ways of approaching this. It is always my preference to approach the spirits with love, attempting to turn them, rather than aggression or power. We still had a small margin of possibility here, but it was promising to be a struggle between her desire for me and her pride.

  I withdrew.

  ***

  Bridey

  Sandro has me in his arms when I wake up, and for a moment the only memory is how lovely it is that we’ve reconnected. This morning, waking to his eagerness was mind-blowing because last night he completely rejected me. Now, within five minutes of waking, horrible feelings are beginning to creep into my awareness. Where are they coming from? That question should never have been asked, because, after that, my world tumbles down all around me. I want to go home. The Source doesn’t want to take me. Ku wants me to stay here.

  Sandro convinces me to go for a driving lesson to break away from the bad thoughts, and there doesn’t seem to be any other choice but to sit here brooding and frightened, so I go with him. When I drive up to the campsite, the first thing I see is Homarta waiting for me. I feel sick. Now what? Sandro doesn’t understand, and I can’t tell him what she said. Flagran has taken Josh to get him away from my meanness, and no one knows where Torrenclar is although Sandro told me he’d carried me over to him when the Source had put me to sleep.

  Homarta is coming over, and I search for a place to hide.

  “Sandro, please don’t leave me.”

  He stands beside me and waits for her to arrive, and when she asks him to leave us alone, he refuses. He puts his arm around me, and I think how brave he is to face off with her. She stares at him considering her next course of action. In the end, she decides to get on with it. I creep closer to Sandro, and he squeezes me tight against him. This is perhaps the first time anyone has protected me when I’m getting into trouble. He probably couldn’t have done anything if she had attempted to get her way, but the thought that he wants to look after me makes a huge difference.

  She holds out her arms to me. How can she think I would go to her now? I stay where I am, safe. It’s hard to believe our friendship has come to this, because I love her so much. Thoughts of when she turned up at Mallacoota and how ecstatic I’d been flood me. Confusion begins to creep in, and the coldness comes back. Just take me home Sandro. I need to get out of here. My body goes numb. Thoughts of hating myself and also of being completely alone where nobody loves me, return. I shut my eyes fearing I’m about to faint. When I open them, it’s like the time after the earthquake when she headed towards me. I remember my terror. She’s closer to us. My body begins to shake.

  “Bridey. You are safe,” she says. “Sandro, can we go and sit together? I don’t think she will be able to stand much longer.”

  I feel us moving forward, and I keep my eyes closed. Then he pushes me down gently, and I see he wants me to sit on the camp blanket with him. She isn’t with us. I look around, scared she might be behind, but, she’s gone away. Sandro crosses his legs and pulls me to lie against him. I want to go back to sleep. His arms are locked over my chest, and it feels very safe. She isn’t going to do anything while he’s here.

  He puts a cup of warm liquid to my lips, and I remember I’m hungry. Why won’t they feed me? I’ve been trying to be good. It doesn’t taste too bad, and it helps with the thirst so I drink it saying “Sandro, I’m really hungry.” He kisses the top of my head telling me food’s coming. They feed me fruit and yoghurt in small pieces, but when bread’s offered, I can’t make it go down. We need to get home quickly. Bad things are happening, and my head’s very strange. I think I’m going to be sick, but it passes, and my head becomes more and more fuzzy. I fall over because I can’t hold myself up.

  ***

  Sandro

  He lay down behind her, his body close, one arm around her and his other hand on her breast. This day, which had started so well, was filling him with confusion and anxiety. What was happening? Homarta had given her a sedative of herbs and was sitting near them. “Why is she so frightened of you, Homarta?” he asked her. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  She hesitated for only a second. “She came to me this morning after you had made love to her, and instead of taking her in I gave her another dose of my anger.”

  “Why would you do that?” It filled me with dread.
It made no sense. “Was it because of my struggles? Because I shared them with you.”

  “Partly, yes, I’m afraid.”

  “But you told me you wouldn’t use what I said against her.”

  “Yes, Sandro. I did.”

  “Why?” This was important. How could I trust her when she had let me down like this? Attacked us both.

  “Because I didn’t think. It seemed important to draw her attention to her rudeness again.”

  “What could you have possibly said to her that shot her over the edge like this?”

  “I told her she was like her mother.”

  If it had been possible for him to sit up without leaving Bridey, he would have confronted her. That was outrageous. “She’s nothing like her mother!”

  Homarta shook her head from side to side, thinking. “Some of the aspects of her behaviour were just like Elaine, Sandro. Her total disregard for anyone else’s feelings, for example.” This had to be accepted, because Homarta was right, but that didn’t mean she was like Elaine. How could he love someone who was like Elaine? It didn’t make sense. Homarta began speaking again. “It was a huge mistake on my part, Sandro. She didn’t deserve it, and I wish I could take it back again, but things we say can’t be retrieved, can they?”

  There was no answer to that. Who was he to judge? His own rudeness in the hospital had been simply a result of frustration, but others had suffered from it. “How long will she stay like this, and how will it help her? She’s gone over the edge, hasn’t she?”

  “I am hoping Torrenclar will come back before she wakes up.”

  A stab of jealousy shot through him. Yes, of course. The maestro, the master of all words and emotions. He would fix it. With this thought came a sudden stab of pain in his right bicep. By the time the object of his frustration walked into the camp, Sandro had pulled it together and the pain had diminished. But he was grateful for the warning because Torrenclar took things in at a glance.

  “Has she not woken yet?” He was puzzled. “She should have been awake for hours.”