The Practitioner

by Ronica Black

  He crossed his arms and watched her, waiting for her reaction.

  She spoke slowly, carefully. “I know exactly what Johnnie is, and she is way more than just hope. She is possibly everything. But if you really care about me or her, you’ll help me stay away from her. I just seem to do nothing but cause her hurt and vice versa. And it wouldn’t be fair to her to let her in now. I still dream about Barb. Ache for Barb. Christ, I still spray her cologne on my sheets just so I can fall asleep. I still have her toothbrush. It still stands right next to mine. Tell me I’m ready, Michael. Knowing all that, tell me I’m ready.”

  He sat in silence and she saw his eyes fill with tears, but he blinked them away.

  “I can’t.”

  She sat back, justified. “Thank you.”

  “But I can help you,” he said. “If you’ll let me. We need to clean out her closet. Clean away her things.”

  “I tried when I redid the house. I don’t think I can.”

  “Keep a few things, but the majority of it, I think for your sake you need to give it away to people who could use it.”

  “Michael, we are too close for you to counsel me.”

  He held up a hand. “Not me.”

  “The shrink? I see her twice a month. What more do you want?”

  “That’s a start.”

  “What then?”

  The waiter brought their food, and they paused their conversation to bite into smothered chicken enchiladas. Elaine groaned and then felt her throat tighten as the realization came that she’d last eaten there with Barb. They’d come up for their anniversary, eaten there, and then gone off to their time-share and made love in a candlelit bathroom in the Jacuzzi tub. Then they’d sat on the patio as a storm rolled in and smoked cigars and drank wine until they couldn’t stand. It had been one of the greatest weekends of her life.

  “What?” Michael asked.

  “Nothing.” She took another bite. “Just memories.”

  He ate slowly as if unsure as to what to say. “Memories are okay.”

  She chewed and looked out the vast front window. The sky was darkening. If she wanted to get to the vortex, it would need to be soon.

  Michael finished another bite and chased it with some beer. “So what I was saying…I think I know a way to help. It’s right up your alley. Nothing religious, no shrinks. But very spiritual.”

  “Okay.”

  “I think you should go to a sweat lodge.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”

  He blinked. “No, I’m not.”

  “I’m not going into one of those tents with a dozen other people where some guru tells me to let everything go. Besides, I’ve heard they aren’t safe.”

  Michael looked defeated for a moment. But then he seemed to get the nerve to speak.

  “I knew you’d say all those things. And you may not be wrong. So I asked for a real medicine man. One-on-one type deal.”

  “What? Where?”

  “At the visitor center. I asked the old man there if he knew of any serious practicing medicine men. Turns out, he knows one.”

  Elaine pushed her food around, already feeling full. Michael had her intrigued, and a part of her didn’t like it. A part of her liked the wallowing in misery. She felt comfortable there and alone. No one could reach her and she could be with Barb. She didn’t want his clean hand offering to pull her up and out of the swamp of misery.

  “Is he white?” she said, wanting to discredit Michael’s man.

  “No, he’s Navajo.”

  “And he’s here? In Sedona?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much does he charge?”

  “That’s just it. The guy says he doesn’t do it for profit. He may take a donation, but he doesn’t do this for just anybody.”

  Elaine took another bite and then eased her plate away for good. “You’ve already arranged for me to meet him haven’t you?”

  Michael shifted. “Elaine, I love you. You know that.”

  “Damn it, Michael.”

  “Just try. For me.”

  But she really wasn’t all that upset. She found herself a little curious. She sighed and waved the waiter down for a box to go. “I’ll do it as long as you let me go to the vortex alone.” She took a piece of ice into her mouth and chewed. Michael finished eating, taking his time. She drilled her fingers along the table.

  “It’s going to storm,” he said.

  “It’s not too bad yet.”

  “I hate you,” he said.

  She smiled. “I hate you too.”

  She blew him a kiss. “Take my food back to the condo, will ya? I’ll be hungry when I get back. She smiled at his grimace and left, weaving her way between tables.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  The outside air had cooled considerably, and a bit of a wind had kicked up. Elaine crossed the street to her car and pulled onto the main road. Then she headed back toward the entrance of town and turned toward a lower creek area. By the time she parked, the lightning was growing closer and the dark sky loomed overhead. The wind blew against her as she exited the car and stretched, tugging on her hiking boots, stretching her quads. Her blood began to pump in anticipation as the earthy elements awakened her senses and the beautiful environment lured her forward. She pulled on a light backpack containing water and a few snacks, a plastic bag full of matches, and an emergency blanket.

  People crawled up the parking lot toward her, faces pink with sun, hair windblown. They looked pleasantly spent and happy, breathless but beautiful. Some greeted her; some warned her of the storm. She assured them she’d be okay and made it to the bottom of the parking lot where she climbed over a wooden fence. She could’ve taken the well-known path, but she didn’t feel she had time. So she cleared the fence and walked along the dry creek bed, creekside homes to her right, small creek to her left. As she walked, she took in the elements and held out her hands as if to thank whatever higher being there was for creating such a beautiful place. She closed her eyes briefly, thought of Barb, and whispered a prayer to her.

  “I’m here,” she said and she imagined, no felt, that Barb said it in return. She opened her eyes and focused on the red rocks in the distance. The lightning cracked around them, and soon she knew it would break the shell of a dark sky and leak out rain. But she didn’t have far to go now. She found the path up to her right, left the homes behind and entered wilderness. The shade was cool and still, the breeze having gone, the calm before the storm. She hiked farther in, bypassed two more hikers with a smile, and then came to a stop at the area she was after.

  “Barb.” She could feel her and her hair stood up on her arms. She smiled and a tear fell. Carefully, she removed her backpack and stepped into the center of the vortex. She was surrounded by trees and foliage, as if they were protecting it. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and held out her arms. The dizziness came at once, and she laughed nervously. “I’m here, Barb,” she said. Then she closed her mouth and spoke with her mind. She offered her energy up and out, wanting the vortex to take it. The dizziness intensified, and she knelt, placing her hands in the grass and leaves. She angled her head to the sky, felt a stirring deep within her chest. Her heart careened but in an excited way. Like it did at night when she was so damned tired but couldn’t settle to sleep. It pumped hot blood throughout her, and she settled down to sit as she felt it begin to pull up out of her skin. It tingled and toyed with her as if she were a puppet and someone above were pulling her strings. She knew if she opened her eyes she’d grow sick with dizziness and motion sickness and the feeling would be lost. So she kept her eyes closed and whispered, “Take me, just take me. Take me and make me feel. Put me back together again.”

  She sat and swayed, and soon a drop of cold smacked her forehead. It startled her, but she laughed. Another fell, then another. She held out her hands and opened her eyes. White streaks fell from the heavy blue-black sky.

  She was laughing when someone stepped into the clearing
. Elaine couldn’t see very clearly.

  “Sorry,” she said, trying to stand. “I’ll leave you to it.” But the person came closer and took her gently by the arm. Elaine at once looked at her. “Johnnie,” she breathed.

  “We have to get you out of here,” Johnnie said.

  Elaine tried to pull away. Her energy was still mixed up, swirling, alive with no destination. “No, I’m okay.”

  It began to pour. Johnnie looked up; lightning splintering the sky.

  “We need to make a run for it. Before that lightning is on us.”

  “But I feel so good,” Elaine said. She held out her hands. “I need this. I can feel her.”

  Johnnie stepped back. “Elaine, please.”

  “Why are you here?” Elaine asked.

  Johnnie looked to her left, hesitated. “Come on.” She held out her hand.

  Elaine stood in the pouring rain. Johnnie looked serious, anxious. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed, scaring her. Johnnie found her backpack, picked it up, and again held out her hand. “We have to go now.”

  Elaine moved, took her hand, and they hiked farther up. The trail was muddy, the tree roots slick. They lost footing a few times but kept on. Then Johnnie made a turn and they went off-trail. Thunder clacked again, directly overhead. Elaine winced.

  “Up here,” Johnnie said. She spread through branches and brush, held them open for Elaine. They walked through and came to an opening in the rock face. Johnnie took Elaine by the waist and pushed her up. Then she jumped up and climbed inside. Johnnie took her to the back of the cave and tossed rocks into the darkness.

  “Why are you doing that?” Elaine asked, heart still racing.

  “Rattlers,” Johnnie said, before giving up and settling down. “They hibernate in dark places like caves. Just wanted to know if we were safe out here.” She offered a seat to Elaine. They were in the middle of the small cave, away from the lightning but away from the dark entrails where snakes or who knew what else might be hibernating.

  Elaine was trembling and so was Johnnie. The rain was steady and heavy.

  “It’s going to last an hour or so,” Johnnie said. She unzipped her jacket, took it off, and pulled off her long sleeve shirt.

  “Here.” She handed both to Elaine.

  Elaine waved her off.

  “Elaine, take off your wet shirt and bra and put this on. It’s not a request, it’s not a nice gesture, it’s a demand.”

  Elaine studied her a moment and then took them off. Johnnie was serious. She’d never seen her so serious. Slowly, she turned around and undressed. Her hands shook so badly she thought she might need help. But somehow she managed. When she finished, Johnnie stood, took her wet clothes, wrung them out, and laid them flat on the rock surface.

  “Now your shorts,” Johnnie said.

  Elaine stared at her.

  “Again, not a request.” Johnnie looked away, arms crossed, and waited. Elaine peeled off her shorts. “I’m not taking off my underwear,” she said.

  “You can cover up with my blanket.”

  Elaine hesitated and then took those too off.

  “Hand me your blanket, please.”

  Johnnie unzipped her bag and pulled a soft blanket out of a waterproof bag. She handed it to her.

  Elaine wrapped her waist and sat.

  But something wasn’t right. Johnnie stood in a bra and wet shorts.

  “Let’s share the blanket,” Elaine said. Johnnie sat and removed her shoes and wet socks. She ran both hands through her short hair.

  “I’m good.”

  Elaine laughed. “Bullshit. You’re shaking.”

  She stood, opened the blanket, and eyed her. “Come on. It’s not a request.”

  Johnnie blushed despite her cold state. She was careful not to look at Elaine below the waist. She crossed to her and they sat, blanket warming them both.

  Elaine busied herself removing her shoes and socks as Johnnie had done. She laid them out to dry.

  “What are you doing here?” Elaine asked. “Did Michael send you?”

  Johnnie appeared confused. “I came with a friend.”

  “And to the vortex?”

  “I was coming here, to the cave.”

  Elaine glanced around. “Are those…”

  “Native American drawings? Most likely.”

  “Are we supposed to be in here?”

  “Probably not. But I’m not sure people know it exists. I only know because of Henry and Jolene.”

  “Your friends.”

  “Right.”

  Elaine was amazed. “Imagine who they were, how they lived. How long ago they lived.”

  “Henry knows. He can tell you. You should meet him,” Johnnie said softly.

  The rain continued to fall, and the lightning and thunder shook their surroundings.

  “Why are you out here alone?” Johnnie asked.

  Elaine sighed. “I wanted to go to the vortex. I needed…”

  “Barb,” Johnnie said.

  Elaine got choked up and nodded.

  Johnnie did something surprising. She pulled her close. “You’ll find your way,” she said. “Have faith.”

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Elaine felt tears run down her face, but she brushed them away. She was tired of crying. But Johnnie held her close and looked out at the rain with her.

  “You can cry, you know,” Johnnie said. “Even strong people cry.”

  Elaine laughed a little. “I just feel like I’ve done enough of that for one lifetime.”

  Johnnie was quiet and seemed thoughtful. “I can only imagine,” she said. “I don’t know if I’d survive if I lost someone I loved so deeply. Someone like…” But she turned her head, and the breeze chilled them, blowing her short hair.

  “Someone like…who?” Elaine asked, unable not to.

  Johnnie wouldn’t look at her. “You already know,” she said.

  “No, I don’t.”

  Johnnie scoffed. “I think you do.” She turned and looked into her eyes. “I think you know I’m in love with you.”

  Elaine felt herself gasp, but it wasn’t consciously done. Johnnie was staring into her, falling into her eyes. Elaine’s heart began to pump so hard she could feel it. It even clouded her hearing.

  “I—Johnnie,” she breathed.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Johnnie said softly. “I know you still love Barb. And I understand why. If I lost someone like you, I’m not sure I’d ever recover.” She stared off again into the rain.

  Elaine leaned into her, gripping her arm. “You know I love you too, Johnnie.”

  She felt Johnnie tense. “No, I didn’t know.”

  “I do. Somehow, someway, you have snuck under or over my wall. You reached my heart and infiltrated. I think I knew it the first day I met you. You standing there so nervous, yet refusing to leave. Paint on your jeans, your hands, showing the passion you have for your craft. You were so incredible, so real, so raw. I could feel who you were. Just like you can with people.”

  “But you can’t be with me,” Johnnie whispered.

  Elaine again felt tears come. “I love Barb.”

  “You’re confused,” Johnnie said. “You feel guilty.” Johnnie turned and gently wiped her tears. She softly, delicately kissed her cheeks, her trail of tears. “You don’t have to worry. I understand. I’m not going to pressure you.”

  Elaine snuggled closer, and Johnnie held her as she softly cried. Elaine breathed in her skin, felt the strength of her upper body, clung to her like a tower of love and strength. Around them, the rain streamed down, and Elaine felt like the earth was crying with her. Mourning.

  Johnnie soothed her, melted against her, and they rested their heads upon each other.

  Eventually, when Elaine could cry no more, and the rain slowed and the birds sung once again, Elaine broke the silence.

  “I hear you’ve seen a colleague of mine.” Hearing so had stung a bit at the time, but she didn’t blame Johnnie for trying out a new pr
actitioner.

  Johnnie laughed a little. “Yeah, she’s not for me.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s cocky. I don’t do cocky.”

  Elaine smiled and nodded knowingly. “Most of our gay women love her.”

  “I’m not most gay women,” Johnnie said.

  “No. No, you’re not.”

  They sat in silence for a moment and Elaine took Johnnie’s hand, tracing her palm.

  “Have you been painting?”

  Johnnie groaned. “I suppose. Mostly abstract. Which is new for me. But my friend really turned me on to it. And of course, I still paint—”

  “Me?”

  Johnnie smiled, but she looked embarrassed. “I sold some,” she said. “To a Brazilian collector.”

  “Really? I think I’m flattered.”

  “You should be. He’s very picky about his portraits.”

  “Is he?”

  “Yes, and now he wants nudes of you.”

  Elaine laughed, unable not to.

  “I turned him down.”

  “Why?”

  Johnnie looked at her incredulously. “Because you don’t want me near you, much less painting you nude.”

  Elaine shrugged. “I don’t know. I might.”

  Johnnie released her. “Please stop mind-fucking me. I get enough from Gail.”

  Elaine patted her leg and Johnnie jumped. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to.”

  Johnnie looked at her, then covered her hand with her own. “You have a way of…moving me.”

  Elaine stared back. “So do you.”

  “But we can’t.”

  “No.”

  They inched closer. Elaine closed her eyes to kiss her. Johnnie did the same. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, startling them. They backed away.

  Johnnie stood and paced the cave. Elaine couldn’t help but notice the planes of her pale abdomen, the freckle near her belly button, the fullness of her ample breasts held by the tight sports bra.

  “I think you should paint me.”