by Lee Baldwin
Lylit sits in soft grass, inhaling the sweetness of the flowered earth, the salt-scent from Lian’s bare skin. She strokes his firm belly. The sky is deepest violet sculptured with filaments of cloud that beckon sunrise. Lian looks into her eyes. They are in human form, still with human minds.
“One thing you never told me.”
“Yes, love.”
“Raziel. He helped you remain hidden, with the girl.”
“Ah. He is actually quite brilliant. It was his idea.”
“Tell.”
“He saw me struggle back from the dead, one of the times.”
“One of the many. I grieve for your pain.”
“But you are here now. You have killed all the misguided ones. Raziel told me that events were to become interesting.”
“I am starting to loathe that word.”
“He told me where to wait. When he came back, he said he had found one, a woman newly with child. One who had released a second egg.”
“Ah. Ingenious.”
“He said I would be safe. The price was to remain absolutely silent through gestation, birth, for the lifetime that followed.”
“You are lucky it has been so short.”
“It was eternity. But I grew so close to her, I saw her clear through, all her faults, her misfortunes, her hurts and her courage.”
“You are sublimely beautiful as a mortal, my Lylit.”
“As you are, my soul. But in the womb, it was she who came to me. She who pulled me in. We became one. With her, my soul was safe hidden. She is my sister and I love her. I have betrayed her. You must help me.”
“Raziel saved you.”
“No. Raziel thought of it. He is sublime among angels. But it was Tharcia who hid me, Lian. Her love that protected me. It was her pain and anger that released me. She needs to know and be protected. I must take care of her.”
When Clay opens his eyes, he’s surprised Tharcia is not there. On the edge of the bed rubbing his face, recalling the night’s majesty, sharp guilt edges in. We’ve made the biggest mistake two people can make. He pulls on jeans and a shirt, walks out barefoot in search of coffee.
This morning Tharcia intends to be ready, not ripped away in her jammies again. Soon, she expects to be abruptly summoned for her final reckoning. She trembles. She has thrown down everything.
Stands on the porch, watching pale light come up beyond the trees, waiting. The rising day is still, deer move among the trees. Her eyes are drawn by a graceful spiral path, a circular labyrinth in the center of the clearing, the path traced by horse’s hooves, before it stopped in the muddy ashes of her mother’s clothing.
She wears black skinny jeans, high polished boots with pointy toes, dark maroon sweater beneath a leather jacket. Her hair a white thicket around her face. When she hears clinking in the kitchen, she goes in. Bomber sits on an arm of the sofa. Tharcia leans down, the cat stretches out its neck to sniff noses with her. She smiles.
When Clay sees her face he knows. She is desperately afraid. Watches her over the rim of his cup as he takes a first sip of coffee. Good. She makes it dark. Sees in her eyes no echo of their night together, all pushed down by fear. Get her to talk.
His question is rhetorical. She’ll probably call him a ‘tard, a dweeb or some such, but the convo has to start somewhere.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m going to hell.”
He lets her reply soak into his brain. It’s too damn early for a philosophical discussion.
“Pardon me for saying it, but you are putting yourself in hell already.”
“Huh?”
“You can win.”
She pours herself another coffee. Her third. “Fracking fat chance of that.”
Clay gathers her in his arms. She squeezes half-heartedly, doesn’t look at him. Compared to the wild animal that held him through their glorious night, she’s in another universe entirely.
“Look,” he says, “you’re not the only one who grew up tough. I never knew if my dad was proud of me, he died before I straightened myself out. My mom was so sick the last year of her life…”
“My mom was sick for all of hers.” Scowly face, her tone cold bleak.
“My point exactly. But there is someone right here who is already proud of you. And I’ll be proud when you come home with that wise ass grin on your face.”
Faint light stirs her eyes. “Come home?”
Clay nods. “You will. You’ll come home and be here. You can be here as you have been. Or you can be here with me.”
She furtively meets his gaze. “With you,” she whispers, disbelieving. In her heart too, an ache of guilt.
Clay cuts into her thoughts. “How do you know they will tell the truth?”
“About what?”
“The vote.”
A polite knock at the door.
“You can win,” Clay says over his shoulder. “If not, change the rules.”
On his porch stands Lylit, embodied as a garden fairy. She’s the second-loveliest woman he’s ever seen. Her graceful wings are transparent, edged in iridescent gold and fine purple streamers. Vines of tiny pale flowers wrap legs and hips.
“Good morning! I hope you slept well. As if sleeping is what you two were up to.” Lylit’s laugh is musical.
She folds her wings to enter the doorway. Bomber looks at her with head-cocked interest. She walks over and strokes the cat’s neck. On the sofa Tharcia’s sketchbook, open to her drawing of Clay. But now in the picture is Tharcia, a filmy gown like the goddesses on her wall, standing in front of Clay, her back to him. Her arms are extended so that they clasp hands, her face lifted to his.
“Nice dream,” Lylit says.
Clay comes over. He hadn’t seen. The two together on that page are beautiful, courageous, impossible.
“You do have hope,” he whispers, half to himself.
Lylit faces Tharcia. She’s taller, filmy wings brush the ceiling.
“We have a little time. Lian is nearly ready.”
“Let’s bounce and get it the fuck over with.”
“Tharcia, my sister. You have so much to look forward to. While we are waiting, you once asked Lian a question.”
“Which one?”
“You asked him why I have enemies.”
“Because you betray people like you betrayed me!” Tharcia’s eyes steely blue.
“Yes Tharcia, I have. You are right. But I was vilified and pursued because of the lies about me. Angels fear me because I am awake. Angels can be unimaginative. Powerful, but not so original. I am like Lian, he is alert and creative. As are you.”
“Sure. So what?”
“There is a wisdom in being mortal. Lian and I lived it last night, it was revealing. We’re alike, Sister.”
“Could we just get on with it? I’m not ready for any chilling this morning.”
“Soon. But you need to know some things about Clay.”
“Don’t you dare talk about Clay.” Her eyes flash a warning.
“Ah. Do you know what I was doing here? Why I met him as Lillian?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“You do, more than you think. You need to know why I was attracted to Clay. You both do. I saw right away I did not need to nurture him. His survival would not depend on me. Tell me you don’t see that, Tharcia.”
Looking from Lylit to Clay, Tharcia gets it that she is right. Clay does not need her, except in the ways she needs him. He is fully grown, as soon she will be.
“There is something else, Tharcia, something women will want to hear from you.”
“As if I get the chance, after today.”
Lylit laughs. “A little self-confidence would help. Tell them that Lylit accepts no less than their individuality, who they are at their core. I call out to those who are secure, who do not need to falsify themselves for acceptance.
“Tharcia, for all your life, you sheltered me. I thought I was safe to come out, when Lian was finally here. But mis
guided angels still hunted me. The desire to live as human was too strong. I’d been silent within you so many years. I wanted to taste life, human life. As Lillian, I found Clay because of you.”
Tharcia takes two quick steps and slaps Lylit hard across the face. Lylit’s mouth opens in surprise.
“That is another way you betrayed me! First by selling me out to Lian so you could be with him. Then you bagged the only man I have ever loved.”
“Oh! So that’s what it feels like.” Lylit’s hand to a crimson-printed cheek. “Jealousy. I hear it works wonders, sometimes.”
Clay looks from one to the other. “Jealousy, Tharcia? Love?”
“It’s too late.” Lower lip out, she’s not looking at him.
“What’s too late?”
“I’m going to leave and never come back.” Her sorrowful reply.
“Tharcia, dear Sister. Please have faith. It is not what you think.”
“Yah, right,” Tharcia says hotly, “it’s not what it looks like. You weren’t really fucking him.”
Lylit stands before her, takes both her hands. “Tharcia, you are the small pebble that first pulled away from the dam, to start it crumbling. The forces were in place. But you started it.”
“What if was some other idiot pebble?”
“Oh it would have happened, just not quite so soon.”
Tharcia is marginally interested. “So, later. By how much?”
Lylit considers, her dark eyes take on a mischievous cast. “I’d say about twenty-four minutes.”
“Holy shit,” Tharcia says angrily, “for that I put my ass in the wringer? We’d be doing the same thing?”
Clay laughs, can’t help it. It’s all too much. Tharcia gets the grand absurdity, shakes her head. “Thanks loads, bitch-sistah.”
“I owe our mother a big debt too. I have paid it.”
“With what?” Tharcia sneers.
“When we see Lian, he will tell you.”
Tharcia’s heart sinks at the thought of that final throwdown. “Are we ready to bounce? This waiting is too hardcore.”
Reckoning
Rather less abrupt than Tharcia’s previous arrivals, she and Lylit descend toward the Pentagon in a long glide. This time, she holds hands with the most sublimely lovely human form she has ever seen. White hair, long like her own, blows out behind, Lylit’s gossamer wings above them. Doesn’t matter. Tharcia is still angry.
“You need to know about your father,” Lylit says into Tharcia’s silence.
“It’s Clay. Not that Porterfield idiot.”
Lylit shakes her head. “No. Tharcia, do you remember where you and I first saw each other?”
“That dream. The secret sister one.”
“That was no dream. Do you recall who you met there?”
“Your friend. Some different name.”
“His name is Raziel. He loves you. Your life had already begun, with your mom. Raziel then slept with your mother, and I hid within the second embryo.”
Tharcia can only stare. It is too much. The vision that drove her to her knees. Two cell-islands adrift in darkness, impossibly small, calling out for one another.
“Our mom made love with an angel,” Lylit smiles at her. “She must have been a little okay for that to happen.”
From a great distance they see Lian, an unreal form jutting from the horizon near the Potomac river. Around them on their descent, pillars of smoke rise up as far as eyes can see, the horizon is a gray smudge. The massive beast sees them twenty miles out, the wings lift, reach out from his shoulders to span two thousand feet. As they get closer, Tharcia sees that something else is unfurled as well. She curses.
“He could have avoided showing me that!”
Lylit laughs. “Get over yourself, Sis! He’s just reminiscing about our first night together.”
Tharcia turns red in the face. She too has things to remember, with Clay. As they glide down, Lian shrinks to normal size, pulls himself back into human form, neatly clothed. The Pentagon courtyard looks as though battle tanks drove through it, trees and benches scraped back to the inner walls, deep-scarred impressions from Lian’s huge clawed feet. Lylit and Lian hold tight. Tharcia hears Lylit’s whisper, “It’s almost over.”
Tharcia’s mood shifts. Beyond the outcome of the vote, whatever fate awaits her, she gets it she will miss them. Walks to where they stand, wraps herself close.
“I don’t want you to go. Either of you.” Her eyes brim.
“Sorry, Tharcia. The longer I stay the worse the damage. It’s the leakage.”
“Figure it out! Please stay. You are my best teachers yet.”
“Wise child,” Lylit laughs. “I am glad you said yet.”
“Okay then, can we get it over with? Just give me the bad news.”
Lian and Lylit stand close, radiant in joy to be together.
“Alright,” Lian says. “I first have something to tell you. You need to remember that my ultimate intention is peace and unity among mortals. I wanted to create a superior reality. I thought that the Creator’s original reality was imperfect and therefore sought to change it. That is my shame. I have changed my mind about some…”
“Dear Lian,” Lylit cuts in. “May I? Tharcia, I was responsible for counting the votes. My demons. It was closer than I can tell you. But too many people are afraid and…”
“Hold it,” Tharcia says. Clay’s words repeat in her head. Change the rules. “Was my vote counted? Was Clay’s?”
“Of course,” Lian says, searching Lylit’s face. “Vardøger was responsible.”
“We didn’t go to sleep. Besides, Vardøger wasn’t there.”
Lylit gives Tharcia a conspiratorial look. “She sent him away, Lian. She didn’t want the little jerk leering at her while she was with Clay. I can certainly understand that.”
“Well then…”
Tharcia squares off on Lian. “I just gave you two examples of votes that were not counted. How many others were missed? Lian, how can you prove to me that Lylit’s count is accurate?”
“Tharcia, you know that Spirit beings are…” Lylit begins.
“Save it. Both parties have to be equally informed about the process and results for the outcome to be binding. Our bargain is null and void.”
“What!” Lian’s face goes red. For a moment there is a flickering image of the scaly lizard-thing but he controls it, keeps himself in human form. Puff of steam from both nostrils.
“She’s right Lian,” Lylit says. “You and I know how it was decided, but we can’t demonstrate it to her.”
“There’s something else we have to settle. Clay and I were talking...”
“You had time for talking?” Lylit laughs.
Tharcia ignores her. “Lylit, you told me that the Sumerian priests made up harsh stories to discredit you. And all women. It’s all based on lies.”
Lylit nods agreement. “Lian and I discussed this.”
“Lylit, you told me that women were once honored for our ability to create life. What the hell happened? Religions talk about God the Father. Isn’t that a psych that males are superior? This is what you should absolutely fix.”
“It was part of your bargain,” Lian says, “but it is nullified.”
“Why, because you and she can’t show me proof about the vote? Lylit’s spell and this bargain were totally set up to get you two back together. I got sucked into it by chance, because of your boy Raziel. If you want to give as good as you got, give me what I asked then go play your games somewhere else. You can’t be the only beneficiaries after all this calamity.”
“What do you want?”
“Things I said before. For women and men to see themselves as equals. Make our egos work right so there isn’t so much aggression. Make it so everyone can experience the Creator directly. Make the dream state focus on gratitude. Teach that killing is not okay for any reason.”
“Absolutely not. That is everything you asked for, without a contest.”
“That is so
not right! I am not the one who controlled the voting. And look what happened out there, thanks to you both. So much destruction, so many deaths, all that fear. All because you, Lian, think you are such a teacher. You are the energy source of the patriarchy.”
Lylit, standing close, flattens a breast against his bicep. “Lian, she has a good point.”
“In fact Lian I think the patriarchy revolves around your ego. As much as I like you, we’d be better off if you just left.”
“How can you say you like him, if you want him to leave?”
“It’s complicated.”
“This problem is insoluble,” Lian says.
Tharcia shakes her head. “In a male view it is. Me and Lylit are trying to bring everyone’s needs into it.” Her voice is strong, the most hopeful in days.
“She’s right, Lian. It’s how we girls roll.”
Tharcia shoots her a puzzled look. “Since when do you speak street?”
“I have a very excellent teacher.”
“The bargain we made, Tharcia, is nullified” Lian says. “But all is not in vain. You have achieved something finer.”
“What?”
“Lylit now is safe on Earth. The goddess culture is more than your T-shirt slogan. Lylit is again alive in the hearts of women who long for the truth. More will soon join them.”
“Women such as you, my sister,” Lylit says. Her eyes cast sisterly pride.
“No! You have to give us what I asked. For all the hell you brought.”
Lian in that moment grows taller, wings rise up, but not those of a scaly lizard. His body flows into a gilded masculine form, bronze-feathered wings long and graceful rise high from his broad back. The godlike countenance gleams as bronze, nine feet from the ground. Tharcia has to tilt her head back to look him in the eye.
“Alright,” Lian says, in a voice burnished deep as his skin. “What is the single thing you most desire, out of all we discussed?”
“One?” His face is so bright Tharcia finds it hard to look straight at him.