by Scott Blum
Looking out the car window, I realized I had never continued up the road past Martika’s house. The curvy lane narrowed as it meandered up into the mountains, deep within the forest above the Rogue Valley.
“Where are we going?” asked Madisyn.
“It’s a secret,” Martika replied with a childlike giggle, “but I think you’re going to like it!”
We continued up the gravel mountain road until we came to a small turnout that was already occupied by a white Subaru station wagon. Martika parked behind her car’s twin and quickly got out and opened the doors for us. Instantly, Onyx leaped out of the backseat and ran up the path and waited for us on the ledge.
“I guess he knows where he’s going,” said Madisyn.
“Onyx and I walk up here at least a couple of times a week,” agreed Martika as she collected a canvas Co-op bag from the floorboard, next to the pile of books. “I think it’s his favorite place on Earth.”
Madisyn followed Martika, and I trailed behind on the narrow pathway. We hiked up the steep incline for several minutes, with Onyx running in front and waiting at a bend for us to catch up, then happily darting ahead. When we finally reached the top of the hill, Martika paused to allow us to enjoy the vista, which was unlike anything I had seen before in Ashland.
The terrain was distinctly junglelike, as the path ahead appeared to be suspended above the dense forest floor by slender conifers that stretched high into the clouds. Massive shafts of golden light shone through the branches and landed on the well-worn trail like giant yellow spotlights, while millions of golden particles sparkled within the sunbeams themselves. But most unusual was the density of the air—even our breath felt heavier and palpably softer than it did in town.
“Absolutely magical,” Madisyn gasped. “How could I not know about this place?”
“There are many hidden gems around Ashland,” said Martika. “The town is deceptively small, but the magic within is endless.”
The three of us hurriedly traversed the forest path to keep up with Onyx, and once we eventually made it to the crest of the third plateau, the Lab was patiently waiting for us with his front paws crossed.
On our left was an imposing void carved deep into the face of the granite mountain, which resembled a gaping mouth with an insatiable appetite for anything that would dare to walk near it. There was also something disarmingly alive about the depths of the cavern itself, as if the inky shadows inside were undulating and dancing with one another.
“Here we are,” said Martika as she gestured toward the cave.
“I’m not going in there!” exclaimed Madisyn. “I didn’t bring a flashlight!”
As if on cue, the shadows within the cave began to coalesce, and a mysterious woman gradually emerged from the darkness. She had long snowy-white hair and was wearing a reddish-maroon velvet dress that was adorned with several strands of exotic gemstones draping from her neck. The blood-hued velvet cloth dragged on the ground and completely covered her feet so that she appeared to float into the space in front of us.
Martika and the mysterious woman embraced, kissing each other lightly on the lips before Martika introduced us: “Madisyn and Scott, this is one of my dearest friends, Caroline. She has prepared a very special ceremony for Madisyn today.”
Caroline walked up to Madisyn and tenderly held both of her hands and looked deep into her eyes for what seemed like hours. Madisyn’s incredulous expression immediately melted into a blissful smile, and I could sense that my wife became more relaxed than she had been since finding out she was pregnant. Caroline then squeezed Madisyn’s hands and said in a soft voice, “So nice to see you again, my child.”
My wife continued to smile at the unfamiliar woman, and I instinctively held my breath while waiting for her to acknowledge me. Caroline then silently floated in front of me and placed her right hand on my shoulder. I was startled by a current of electricity that flowed from her jewel-encrusted fingers down the length of my arm. She then looked directly into my soul with her piercing emerald eyes. I felt like I was sinking into a bottomless pit, deep within the center of the earth.
“Mr. Scott,” she finally said aloud as her lips pressed into a gentle smile, highlighting the deepest wrinkles around the corners of her mouth and eyes. The lines revealed lifetimes of wisdom that were intimidating at first glance. “Today we will be performing a sacred ceremony that is traditionally for women only.”
My heart sank when I heard these words.
I would have graciously encouraged Madisyn to attend any women-only ritual if I had known about it ahead of time, but after feeling the energy of the moment, I was disappointed that I wasn’t going to be able to share it with her.
After a long silence, Caroline slid her hand down my arm and squeezed my hand firmly. “But we have much work to do, don’t we, Mr. Scott? I have made the appropriate preparations to welcome you into the sacred feminine space for today only. However, you must remain in silence and be mindful of your place as a guest. Do you understand?”
I nodded as Caroline turned to Madisyn and asked, “Are you ready?”
Madisyn smiled as she followed Caroline to the opening of the cave with slow, deliberate steps.
Caroline gestured for her to wait as she removed a long braided bundle of sweetgrass from a wicker basket that was waiting at the entrance. She then proceeded to ignite one end of the braid with a match. The air quickly filled with a sweet pungent cloud, and she began to smudge Madisyn by systematically waving the bundle around the perimeter of her body until every inch had been covered with the blue-green smoke.
“Wait just inside the entrance,” Caroline whispered, and Madisyn disappeared into the dark cave.
Caroline then extinguished the smoldering bundle on the ground and produced a large, well-used bundle of white sage. After lighting the new bundle, she smudged Martika and me in the same way.
The cave was much larger than I expected, and while we were waiting patiently for Caroline to smudge herself, my eyes began to adjust to the flickering candlelight that illuminated the cavern. Nearly a dozen glass votives were nestled into the crevices of the smooth stone walls, and in the center of the cave was a small round table that was covered with an embroidered red velvet cloth. Perched atop were six unlit candles—three large pillars and three medium-sized tapers held erect by a trinity of antique pewter bird-claw candlesticks. Resting at the feet of the shimmering talons was an athame, an intimidating silver dagger with an ornately carved ebony handle.
When the mysterious woman finally entered the cave, all of the candles appeared to dim, and a pronounced chill filled the air. It was as if she commanded all of the oxygen in the cavern and the flames were struggling to stay lit in her presence. I absentmindedly rubbed my arms for warmth through my thin sweater as I watched her mouth move in a silent prayer.
Caroline removed a candle from the wall and walked into the center of the room, gesturing for us all to remain where we were. She placed the votive on the altar and then ceremoniously cradled the dagger with both hands and lifted it high above her head. She brought the athame to her lips and kissed the shining blade. I felt a rush of energy fill the room as I watched her deliberately use the knife to carve a large circle into the dirt around the perimeter of the cave.
She purposely left a narrow opening in front of Madisyn and beckoned her and Martika to enter, making it clear that I was not welcome to join them. I did my best not to take it personally, although there was still a part of me that felt I should be allowed to stand next to my wife and be an active participant in the ceremony.
Once the women were inside, Caroline closed the circle with her dagger and returned it to the altar. She used the candle from the glass votive to light each of the three large pillars, which corresponded in color to the smaller tapers in front of them—red, white, and black. Caroline then moved Madisyn to the center in front of the red candles. Martika was positioned to the left in front of the white ones, and she herself returned to the right side in
front of the black ones.
“I call forth the Triple Goddess to join us on this auspicious day,” Caroline announced in a booming voice that filled every inch of the cavernous space. “Maiden, Mother, Crone, you are within all of us sisters on this earth; and you give us each strength from the power of the moon. As spring into summer, and summer into winter, and winter into spring again, you fill us all with the exquisite beauty of your grace.
“Today we are here to celebrate Maiden Madisyn as she transforms into Mother Madisyn and follows her own divine path of the Triple Goddess. The mother is represented by the full moon, which will provide Madisyn with the essence and energy she needs while embracing motherhood. Her new role is that of the nurturer, and she will be responsible for tending to the seeds and dreams that have been planted within her family. Home and hearth will be the foundation that will bring her strength, security, and resolve during this sacred journey.”
Caroline then removed a single sheet of square yellow paper and a red pen from the opposite side of the altar, and handed them to my wife.
“Madisyn, I encourage you to write down any fears you may have about your new role of motherhood.” Madisyn laughed nervously. “I don’t think that’s enough paper.”
“Just write down what you can.” Caroline smiled.
Madisyn began writing intensely, and in less than a minute had filled the front side of the paper. She flipped over the page to fill the back with little effort. She then turned the yellow sheet sideways and continued writing in the margins until there wasn’t any room left.
“I guess that’s enough.” Madisyn sighed, returning the page to Caroline. “I hope I remembered everything.”
With the deftness of an origami master, Caroline carefully folded the yellow sheet into a small cone and gently placed it upright on the altar in front of the center candles. She then removed the black unlit taper from the holder and gestured for Madisyn and Martika to remove the tapers immediately in front of them. Once all three women were holding their candles, Caroline lit her own from the flame of the black pillar candle and slowly walked to Martika’s side before speaking in a clear, deliberate voice.
“Of the divine circle of the Triple Goddess, the Maiden receives the flame from the Crone.” Once the candle was lit, Caroline kissed Martika on both cheeks and returned to her place to the right of Madisyn.
Martika then turned to Madisyn and said, “Of the divine circle of the Triple Goddess, the Mother receives the flame from the Maiden.” She then lit Madisyn’s candle with hers and kissed her on both cheeks, smiling lovingly.
Caroline then turned to Madisyn and said, “Madisyn, the flame of motherhood that you now hold in your hands burns brightly with the collective fire of the Maiden, Mother, and Crone. You will never be alone on your new journey, and you can always draw from the strength of your sisters.”
In the flickering candlelight, I could see the shimmering path of tears as they made their way down my wife’s cheeks. At that moment a blanket of energy swaddled me, and I hastily removed my sweater, as the temperature in the cave seemed to warm in a matter of seconds.
“It is now time for you to release your fears of motherhood,” Caroline continued in a gentle voice, gesturing for Madisyn to light the paper cone with her candle. Once she did so, it burst into flames and quickly burned to its base. After it had nearly burned completely, the charred remains of the cone magically rose up from the altar and floated toward the ceiling. The beauty of the floating ash was incredible, and when it had disappeared from view, I joined the others in a chorus of gasps that filled the space. Caroline then brought the taper to her lips and blew gently to extinguish the candle. After replacing it in the holder, she gestured for the other two women to follow her lead.
Once the three tapers were no longer burning, Caroline walked directly in front of Madisyn; looked deep into her eyes; and said in a soft, loving voice: “Welcome to motherhood.”
The commanding tone returned to her voice as she turned to the altar. “Dearest Triple Goddess, thank you for blessing us on this auspicious day. When you are ready, please depart in peace with our everlasting gratitude. Return whenever you desire, for you are always welcome.”
She then extinguished the three pillar candles, and when the last one was snuffed, the cave fell to darkness and the electricity present in the air since we had entered instantly evaporated. When my eyes finally adjusted to the darkened cave, I saw that Caroline was quickly shuffling around the perimeter of the circle, erasing the line clean with her feet.
“That was wonderful,” Madisyn said, embracing both Caroline and Martika at the same time. “I feel very supported right now.”
“You are, my dear,” replied Martika as they made their way out of the cave.
I followed behind the women until we had reentered the forest, and then I walked up to my wife. Her face looked different in the golden twilight—stronger and more confident. “I’m proud of you,” I said, hugging her tightly. “You were very beautiful in there.”
“Is there anything we can do to help clean up?” Martika asked Caroline.
“No, I can manage. You all go home, and Madisyn, you would be best served to rest for the next few days—you’ll want to integrate all the new energies that you have received.”
The three of us had started up the path toward the car when I remembered that I had left my sweater inside the cave. Caroline was waiting for me in front of the entrance with my cardigan in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.
“You should call me,” she uttered in a solemn voice as she handed me the handwritten note. “I see something in your field that concerns me—you may need some help.”
CHAPTER THREE
That night I had the latest in a series of anxiety dreams that had begun as soon as Madisyn got pregnant. They always focused on my childhood, although in this one I was much younger than in most.
I stood in front of a local circuit judge flanked by my mother and her new husband inside a linoleum-floored courtroom. The fluorescent lights reflected off the imposing paneled bench separating the judge from the three of us, and our voices echoed as if we were inside a stone cavern.
“It says here that the child’s father has been remiss in paying support for quite some time,” the judge said in a booming and authoritative voice.
“That is correct,” replied my mother solemnly. “And that you and your new husband wish to adopt this child and be legally responsible for all of his needs, financial and otherwise.”
“We do.”
“What is the child’s name? Ah yes, I see it right here. Mr. Scott—”
This was the first time in my life anyone had called me “Mr.,” and it made me feel quite important. I instantly warmed up to the judge.
“—do you understand what it means to be adopted?”
At seven years old, there was no way I could truly understand all the implications of adoption, although I did my best to parrot the speech my mother had prepared me with.
“It means that my last name will change so when my new daddy picks me up from school, they will let him take me home because we will have the same name.”
“That’s true.” The judge laughed. “He’s a precocious little boy, isn’t he? Is that what you want, Mr. Scott?”
“Yes,” I responded as confidently as I could. “I want to be ’dopted.”
“Who can argue with that?” The judge laughed again. “You will receive a new birth certificate within the next four to six weeks that will have the new father’s name on it. I will also order the existing birth certificate with the previous father’s name to be legally sealed for the life of the child. From this date forward, nobody will be able to obtain any official document with reference to the preceding paternity.”
The next morning I stayed in bed while I mulled over the emotions the dream had stirred up. Being adopted hadn’t changed anything from my perspective at first—other than that I had a new last name to play with and was able to discard my
old one with all the ceremony of an empty candy-bar wrapper. In one fell swoop, adoption made the inconvenience of mismatched surnames a thing of the past. One day I was a Saxton, and the next I was a Blum. Simple as that.
As the years progressed, I gradually lost touch with my birth father, although the adoption couldn’t explicitly be blamed for that. He was busy with his new family, and we ended up living well over a thousand miles away from each other. Every few years we would reconnect, and we even managed a few visits during my adolescent years, but his consuming guilt and my growing indifference always seemed to make our visits more awkward than I intended.
However, the adoption itself had a much more insidious effect on me. I never genuinely felt connected to the paternal side of my bloodline because of the confusion of where my loyalties should remain. I felt loved and cared for by my entire family, but I never felt like I belonged. And after my sister was born, the connection to my mother’s side diminished as well. On the surface my family was a cohesive unit that was as traditional as apple pie, but underneath I felt like I was the only one who remembered that I didn’t fit in.
But now I was in the midst of trying to bring another soul into this world, into my own family, and I didn’t even know what family I belonged to. For the first time in my life I felt completely cut off from my own bloodline—the very one I was attempting to pass on to my child.
For the first time in my life I felt truly orphaned.
“Have you given any thought to Autumn’s last name?” I asked my wife, noticing she was also now awake.
“A bit,” she responded coyly.
“I don’t know—I just feel weird about giving her the name Blum. It’s not really my name, you know?”
“That’s a relief,” Madisyn replied. “Because there’s no way I was going to agree to that.”
“Why not?” My feelings were hurt, although I had already conceded the point without her asking.