by S. F. Kosa
“She can’t,” I remind him. “She’s got to keep everything running, and we only have two copy editors.”
“And I’ve got one of them at my beck and call,” he says, smiling again. “I guess I should remember how lucky I am to have you.”
Guilt seeps through the mass in my chest, diluting the relief. “Don’t ever forget it,” I say.
Chapter Nine
The Retreat
May 7, 2000
Breakfast prep was done by sunrise, breakfast dishes by the time the golden ball of light filtered through the upper quarter of the dense canopy of the pines, and that was when Parvaneh could rub a little grease on her chapped hands and head to the meeting hall for morning meditation. It was already going on; Parvaneh and a few others were always late because of the nature of their chores. It always made Parvaneh worry she was being left out of something good.
As she exited the dining building, she listened to the shrieks of playing children, punctuated by the cries of an infant coming from the nursery dorm. She paused, unable to tell which baby it was—Kyra’s girl, born three weeks ago; Ladonna’s little boy, born two months ago; Octavia’s little girl, Parisa, born on the first day of the New Year. So many babies to take care of—Parvaneh wondered if Xerxes got left on his own more often than not. She’d seen him wandering alone a few times, digging around in the woods. She’d only been able to play with him a few times. Meditation took up every moment not filled with work, but she didn’t feel like a servant or anything. Most of the time, she actually felt happy, surrounded by friendly people, safe from the outside world, content, and busy. She fell into bed every night completely exhausted only to be roused by Eszter before sunrise to start the day’s chores.
“Parvaneh!”
She turned to see Eszter jogging in her direction from the dorm. Her belly led the way, and when she reached Parvaneh’s side, she put her hand on it, panting. “Headed to meditation?”
“Yep,” Parvaneh said.
Eszter laughed. “Don’t sound so excited.”
Parvaneh returned her smile. “Hard to be too excited about something I apparently suck at.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not something you’re graded on.”
“Easy for you to say.” Parvaneh pointed at the little lump of the meditation stone in the front pocket of Eszter’s robe. “You got an A. Everyone else too—months ago! Everyone except me.”
“I didn’t realize it was stressing you out so much. Why didn’t you say something?”
Parvaneh gave her a sidelong glance. “Seriously? It all seems so easy for you.”
Eszter stopped in her tracks and tugged on Parvaneh’s shawl, drawing her to a halt. “You can talk to me about this stuff, okay? A year ago, I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t able to even sense the deep consciousness when everyone else seemed able to touch it so easily.”
“What changed?”
She offered a ghost of a smile. “I put my trust in Darius. He invested in me.”
“I know he does that,” Parvaneh said. After the evening sessions, he often chose one person to work with individually. He’d never once chosen Parvaneh. She’d often wondered what he was getting up to with them so late at night, especially when it was a female Oracle like Zana or Eszter, but after her first stupid assumption about Darius’s private session with Shirin, she’d figured it was better not to assume. “And it was helpful?”
Eszter bowed her head. “When I joined the Oracles, I thought it was a miracle. I thought this was the magical solution to all the crap I’d been through.”
Parvaneh let out a dry laugh. “You mean it’s not?” She sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I love it here. And I know people care about me. But I guess I thought the meditation thing would get easier, you know?”
Eszter drew her into a hug, the rock poking Parvaneh’s flat belly through their robes. So close. “Receiving your name is only the start. It just means you’re in the mix, that you’ve decided to do the hard work. Remember what Darius said about the whole thing sometimes feeling like crawling over broken glass?”
Parvaneh nodded against Eszter’s shoulder. Her warmth felt good. She smelled like soap and milk and earth, maybe because one of her chores was to rise at four in the morning to milk cows. “I just wish Darius really saw how hard I’m trying. It’s like he pays attention to everyone except me.” She sighed. “It’s hard not to be jealous of everyone.”
Eszter squeezed her and let her go. “Darius loves all of us. You don’t have to feel left out. Are you really worried about that?”
Parvaneh shrugged.
“You’re not alone, Parvaneh. We all struggle with envy sometimes—just keep walking the path. It’s worth it. I promise,” she said, rubbing her belly. She’d been overweight to begin with, but in the last month, it seemed like she’d ballooned, hips straining against the seams of the robe. Wouldn’t be long before she’d need Beetah to make her a bigger one.
Parvaneh watched Eszter. Listened to the swish of her palm over the fabric of her robe. “Are you pregnant?” she blurted out.
Eszter’s face flushed. “That wasn’t what I was talking ab—”
“But you are?”
Eszter nodded, looking down at her belly. “Am I showing already? I didn’t think…”
Parvaneh felt her cheeks heat. She didn’t want to tell Eszter that she just looked bigger all over. “You’re glowing. How far along?”
“About ten weeks? Ladonna helped me figure it out. So that means I’ll be due in December.” She smiled. “It’s an amazing feeling, knowing a life is growing inside you.”
“Who’s the father?”
Eszter blinked at her. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been an Oracle for over a year,” Parvaneh said. “I didn’t know you were sleeping with anyone. Is it Kazem?” she whispered. He had a silent, rough charm to him. “But I’ve seen the way he and Zana look at each other,” she continued, “so maybe not…?” She took in Eszter’s red face, her teeth clamped over her lip. “What about Mir?” Short but muscular, Mir was a great storyteller and had a booming laugh. “Or—”
“What does ‘father’ even mean?” Eszter asked, not meeting her gaze. “The deep consciousness sends us a soul, and it doesn’t matter which bodies offer up the building blocks of the shell that it will occupy. It doesn’t matter whose body shelters it. Each of these souls belongs to all of us.”
Parvaneh put her hands on her hips. “Come on. Whatever secret you’ve got, it stays with me. I’m a vault.”
Eszter’s gaze slid from side to side. “Fine. It’s Gil, okay?” she said through clenched teeth. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Parvaneh opened her mouth, giddy questions on the tip of her tongue, but the door of the dining hall slammed shut with a bang, and Basir was striding toward them a moment later. “Why aren’t you meditating?” he asked Parvaneh. “I turned you loose ten minutes ago.” He glanced at Eszter and nodded, not questioning why she wasn’t meditating.
“She offered to walk me to the meeting,” Eszter said. “And I had a cramp, so she was staying with me until it passed.”
“Oh,” said Basir, his expression softening. “Take your time, then. I’ll see you in the meditation space.” He walked past them and entered the meeting hall.
“Are you sure the father isn’t Basir?” Parvaneh asked, giggling.
Eszter closed her eyes, obviously trying not to laugh. “Stop it! We have to get in the right frame of mind!” She grabbed Parvaneh’s hand as they reached the door, still smiling. “Becoming an Oracle doesn’t save you. Staying does.”
“Okay,” Parvaneh whispered, shedding her laughter, girding herself. She could already smell the incense lacing the air. She remembered what Darius had told her in that moment with his thumb in her mouth, his body overwhelmingly close: he’d been using himself as a symbol of the deep consciousness, sho
wing her that she had to stop fighting it. She wanted it so badly that it was a taste on her tongue, like yeast or salt, earthy and sharp.
With her head up, she inhaled the smoky-sweet incense fumes, held it in her lungs as long as she could. At the front of the room, about twenty Oracles sat close together, their hands on one another and on the channeler—the person whom Darius had deemed most connected to the consciousness for the session. It was Shirin, gray and gaunt, just as it was on most mornings. Ziba, the other elderly, sick Oracle, was usually the channeler during the evening sessions, when Darius himself didn’t do the job—and when no one was giving birth, of course.
Shirin was curled on her side on a mattress on the floor, probably because it would have been too painful for her to be lifted onto the altar. Last night, Parvaneh had heard her screaming for Kazem, who came rushing in to bring her more pain medicine to douse the fire in her bones. Darius was at her side now, his fingers threaded into her brittle, white hair. Parvaneh had asked why the woman wasn’t in the hospital; she certainly looked like she needed to be. But Octavia had only given her a quizzical look and said, “This is where she needs to be. She’s eager for the embrace of the consciousness, just like we all are.”
Shirin didn’t look eager right now, though. She was trembling and moaning in apparent agony. But Darius held her head in his hands, and the others had their palms against her body, fingers curled around skinny limbs. Many of them had their meditation stones clenched in their other hands, occasionally bringing the rocks to their lips.
Basir was at Shirin’s feet, and Eszter squeezed her voluptuous body between him and Fabia, who opened her eyes and gave Eszter an annoyed look. Parvaneh shoved down a kick of irritation. She knew she was supposed to love every person on this compound, and with some, especially Octavia and Eszter, it was easy. Darius, though intimidating, was steady and magnetic—she was scared but drawn in, always wanting more from him even as her heart raced and her fear made her want to run. Even the ones like Basir and Kazem, who were gruff or silent, weren’t outright mean. No one else seemed to have her problem of despising Fabia, though—it was just one more thing Parvaneh needed to work on.
She edged behind Eszter, as there was little room anywhere else. The Oracles were crowded around Shirin, shoulder to shoulder, swaying like one giant, undulating organism. And Parvaneh had a part in it; she knew she did. She put her right hand on Eszter’s back and closed her eyes, fisting her empty left hand. Behind her closed eyelids, her vision exploded with orange and brown, purple and black. She focused on the shapes, on the scents, on the sounds, trying to melt into all of it, trying to shed her own skin.
After a while, she sagged with frustration. Boredom. She wished there were a clock on the wall, then remembered it wouldn’t tell her much; the session would be over when Darius said it was. Sometimes they lasted all day. Sometimes they ended quickly and everyone ran off to do their chores. Darius insisted that time was imposed by others to control them, and he taught them to deny its power…but Parvaneh couldn’t help it. She felt as if they’d already been there for hours. She swore she could hear the happy cries of the children all the way from here. She wished she could breathe fresh air; her head was pounding. She squirmed, trying to get comfortable. Her left foot was asleep.
“You’re not focusing,” Fabia whispered.
She glared at Fabia, who had closed her eyes again. “Are you?”
“Parvaneh,” Darius said quietly. “Fabia was trying to call you back to the moment. That was an opportunity for you, and you batted it away like a mosquito.”
The reprimand had been delivered in a gentle enough voice, but to Parvaneh, it felt like a shout. A slap. A guarantee that a meditation stone was not in her near future. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. And then forced herself to add, “Fabia, thank you for trying to help me.”
She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see Fabia’s stupid, self-satisfied smile. She didn’t believe for a second that Fabia had been doing anything other than trying to get her in trouble, but what mattered was how Darius saw things.
A warm hand took hold of her fist, pushed the fingers open. She opened her eyes to see that Eszter had reached behind her and pressed her meditation stone into Parvaneh’s hand so that they were holding it between their two palms. Eszter laced her fingers with Parvaneh’s and squeezed, making the rough edges of the stone dig into Parvaneh’s skin. It gave her a sensation in the here and now, something to focus on. She imagined the stone was a cave and herself inside it, staring in wonder at the scatter of crystals all around her, lit by an unearthly light, growing brighter by the minute, warmer by the second. Her whole being pulsed with the wonder of it. This was it—this had to be it. The deep consciousness, glowing and infinite. Finally, finally, she was approaching it. Her eyes stung with tears. She clutched at Eszter’s hand desperately and scooted closer, trying to tighten their connection. But in doing so, she knocked Eszter off balance, causing her to pitch forward.
Crack. A low, dull sound, followed by the old woman’s hoarse screams. Everyone looked around wildly, their gazes landing on Eszter, whose left hand was still held tightly in Parvaneh’s.
“I’m sorry,” Eszter cried. “Oh, Shirin, I’m so sorry!”
“Basir, Tadeas, Zana, get Shirin back to her bed,” said Darius. “Fabia, go fetch Kazem, and tell him to bring the medicine and a splint to Shirin’s room.” He stood up, grimacing. Like he felt every bit of agony right along with the gaunt, old woman at his feet, whose ankle and shin were already swelling and growing purple with blood.
“Oh my god,” Parvaneh whispered. She watched in a daze as everyone else buzzed around Shirin, like they knew exactly what to do. Many left, striding up the aisle to the back as if they were on a mission. Basir and Tadeas and Zana, along with a few of the others, lifted Shirin’s mattress.
Parvaneh tried to take the corner near her head, but Darius gently pushed her away. She stood helplessly as the others shuttled Shirin out of the meeting hall. Darius watched them go with an intense focus, as if he were willing strength into their muscles. A moment later, everyone had gone. Only she and Eszter remained. Darius turned to them. “Tell me what happened.”
“It was me,” Eszter said quickly. “I lost my balance. An accident.”
“Leave,” he said to her. He reached out and caressed her cheek, brushing away a tear. “You’re lying to me, which saddens me more than you can possibly understand. You were trying to share your meditation stone with Parvaneh. I felt the change, like a static charge.” His gaze traveled to where Shirin had lain, agonized and screaming. “Then came the shock.”
“I only wanted to help,” Eszter whispered.
“But you aren’t ready to provide that kind of guidance, are you?”
Eszter shook her head, giving Parvaneh an apologetic glance before she trudged up the aisle and through the back door. Now Darius moved so he was face-to-face with Parvaneh. “You were trying to take what isn’t yours. And in doing so, you disrupted our connection to the deep consciousness.”
“I didn’t mean to. She offered the stone to me, and—”
“Parvaneh, how could you? I’m not keeping a stone from you to be cruel. Why would I do that to my fellow Oracle? I’m doing it for your protection, to give you a chance to grow into readiness. You see the result when you’re not ready. You see what happened just now.”
Parvaneh nodded miserably. His heavy hands closed over her shoulders, and he pulled her against him. She stared at the hollow of his throat, saw the vitality beating beneath his skin. They were chest to chest. “Do you feel how we are connected?” he whispered.
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she nodded anyway.
“This is why we’re here. To connect with one another. To reach for something deep inside one another. But we can do damage if we grasp for things before we know how to hold them, mentally and physically.” His chuckle vibrated through he
r body. “Never pick a fruit before it’s ripe. This is a lesson I myself have to learn each and every day. Patience.”
“I’m trying. I didn’t see the harm—”
“Is Eszter your guide here?”
“No.”
“Who is?”
“You are.”
“Not me. The deep consciousness. I am only its voice here.” He looked down at her. “Why did you let her pull you away from my guidance? Am I not enough? Am I failing you somehow?”
She shook her head, her gaze flitting over his face. She didn’t know where to put her eyes.
“Until you trust, you won’t be ready to surrender.” He pulled her hands up, placed them on his chest. “This is just the shell of me,” he whispered. Then he put his hands on her waist, held on as she tensed. “And this is the shell of you. Inside of us, there are souls desperate to connect. The stones are one way of drawing your focus, allowing you to reach out. But don’t attach too much to them. Because it’s this that matters.” He was pressed so tight against her. It made her want to cling and run and scream and laugh.
He let her go. “I need to rest,” he said. “Please go help Basir with lunch.” He walked to the front of the room, typed some code into the keypad above the door handle to his office, his fingers dancing clockwise in a square, four digits. It clicked; he opened the door and disappeared inside. The moment the door closed, Parvaneh ran, desperate for the kitchen and her chores, anything mindless, any escape from the jumbled mix of love and fear and yearning and disgust and desire and greed and defiance all tangled up inside her head.
Chapter Ten
Bend, Oregon
December 11, present day
Less than a mile into my run along the quiet streets of Bend at six in the morning, it feels like my shins are on fire. I try to stick to the asphalt surfaces instead of the concrete sidewalks, but it does little to help. The grass is wet from last night’s rain, and I only have one pair of running shoes, so I don’t risk soaking them.