Reluctant Activists

by Helena Phillips

  Then there was that. What gave him the right to decide? The look on my face made him even more frustrated. “What?”

  “Well you’d think I’d get a chance to have a say in that.”

  He stared at me gobsmacked. “You’re giving me all the messages to stay away from you, and now you’re saying you should have the right to say we’re having sex.”

  “No. That’s not what I meant.” I was tired, confused about my own mind, frustrated with him.

  “I’ll go then.”

  “No. Don’t do that. Just hop into bed with me and hold me. Please.”

  So we attempted to be close, but I was all over the place, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. I rolled over onto my stomach and turned my head towards the door.

  “Bridey, will you just turn around and let me talk to you?” When I didn’t turn over, he slapped me on the bum.

  I sat up. “What did you do that for?”

  “Because you are so frustrating.”

  “How dare you? Go away. You just don’t get it!”

  He slipped out of the bed, pulled on his jeans, was half way to the door, when he turned back and sat down on the bed beside me. “I’m sorry Bridey. It was a sexual thing. I’m frustrated, and I have no idea how to get close to you when you’re like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “All over the place with me. I don’t know what you want. I don’t even know what I want.”

  When he said that, I felt a stab of fear. Maybe he was going to leave me again. The thought pulled me back instantly. I held out my arms and snuggled into his shoulder. “I’m such a mess Sandro. I don’t do relationships. I’m just no good at it.”

  “Tell me what you want right now,” he said softly, “and I’ll do it.”

  I clung to him for a moment. Then I said, “I want you to kiss me, and then I need some time alone.”

  He groaned. “Don’t decide to give up, will you? I can do better. I’m really sorry I slapped you. It was just a chance to play with your bum. Well part of it was.” As he began to do what he was good at, my body was responding, but I tried not to let on so it wouldn’t get messy. He went away quietly, and I lay there staring up at the ceiling and wondering how I was going to survive this. While I lay thinking and resting, Elaris came to me. We talked about the mess, and I told her about the slap. She laughed. “You’ll sort him out Bridey. He just needs a bit of training in not taking charge.” We talked softly about love and fear and hopelessness. Later, when I woke up, she was gone, but I felt a great sense of her sweetness in the room.

  ***

  The Source

  After Elaris left Bridey, we met at the top of the Westgate Bridge. Her loveliness was clouded in discontent. I waited for her to begin, as it was she who had called me. At first she was silent, then it came at me, brittle and hard. “You are angry with me, my Master,” she said. How dared she call me that! It was a nasty challenge.

  “As you are with me, Elaris.”

  “It feels like I’ve lost my best friend, but I have done nothing to cause it.” It was difficult to see how she had come to this conclusion after several attempts of mine to draw her near again.

  “Yet, each time you are asked to do something for me, I have to approach you and order you to assist where once you would have gladly worked with me.”

  “But that was your decree!” she said. “You told us to do nothing without your direction.”

  “That does not even remotely resemble my instructions, Elaris.”

  She ignored that. “Everything you asked has been done. Dancing with Sandro and taking him to see Melbourne at night. Lying with Bridey comforting her. When will you give me back my freedom? I’m desperate to fly from here, go to the mountains, cross the deserts.”

  She was fortunate I was not inclined to tantrums, for I was furious with her. “You are sulking, Elaris. Your temper is making you ugly.”

  She actually glared at me. “How long?”

  Sometimes, there is nothing to say which will make any difference. She knew exactly what was going on with her restriction to Melbourne. It was little enough to ask of her, and besides, her enforced stay had only lasted four weeks to date. It would be many more before the ban was lifted. I disappeared from her sight. She attempted to leave the city, but her wings were clipped.

  Torrenclar came to me then, for I had summoned him. “Elaris is in trouble.” My voice was clipped and sounded curt. “She is in danger of brewing up a storm. Stop that from happening, Torrenclar.” He stood before me, confused and hurt by my tone. At the pain in his face, my anger melted, and a small smile, especially for this my very dear companion, appeared to soften the moment. “Please forgive me, Torrenclar. I’m sorry. You did not deserve that.”

  “It’s painful to see you hurting, Love,” he responded. “What can I do?”

  “She needs toughness at this moment, and I am loath to deal with it. I am too angry.” Torrenclar waited. “Go and find her and see if you can talk some sense into her before we must choose the hard path.” My grief choked off the words. He waited with me attempting to reach me with his love, but the situation was unbearable. My pleading smile made him wince, and he left to do what he could.

  He discovered her thrashing around amongst the boats in the Bay. She was completely out of control smashing them against each other and the jetties. He scooped a couple of small boys from the water where they been thrown from fishing on the pier, returning them to their parents. To them, he looked like any other swimmer. He struggled to catch hold of her, but she was too strong for him alone, and he called on Flagran for assistance. Their combined efforts only resulted in her causing more damage. Finally, I had to take her in hand myself. This was always a last resort when a spirit became intractable. For me, the pain of it was unbearable as we had once been so close. I isolated her in a tiny area deep in the mountains and left her there many days. Once she had had the chance to review her position, she might just return to herself.

  The others were crushed. It was nasty business for them to watch. It is difficult to describe the impact of this on all of us.

  Elaris had been a very sweet spirit, inclined to commune with me often. Until recently she had been biddable but had turned away when the others became uncertain. It is hard to have friends when you are at the top. Everyone believes you are emotionally disconnected; strange when each of my creations is made to reflect me. I could no more create a being with no soul than I could leave the earth without its Caretakers. To lose a friend like Elaris hurt me deeply. It would take a long time for me to win her back, and I would have to proceed slowly. The friendship would be forever altered.

  It was a sad and quiet group which gathered at Bridey’s house that night.

  ***

  Bridey

  The point of making a dessert was to prove I wasn’t completely useless. It was just cooked when Sandro’s voice at the back door alerted me to Flagran’s presence. Rushing out, I jumped up at Flagran like a little puppy. He swung me round and around and kissed me pointedly on the lips, lingering longer so Sandro would punch him. It was good to have him back.

  The fire was, of course, huge and satisfying in a primal kind of way. Our family hadn’t camped, but I had loved beach and mountain holidays with families of my school friends. Sandro was loving, but distant. Torrenclar was subdued and hard to reach. Flagran’s efforts to be cheerful were obvious. The evening lacked its usual spark.

  We ate the remains of Gabriella’s lunch. Competing with his mother was impossible, but my chocolate self-saucing pudding, developed by some friends of mine, was a success.

  After he’d eaten, Sandro asked permission to take the floor. He began by thanking them for their presence in our lives, but his next words surprised me.

  “I want to tell you my story. Not only because it might help you to understand where I’ve been, but also because I’m hoping you might be able to point me in the right direction.” I was seated opposite him with Torrenclar. Life was too chopp
y. Concentrating on what Sandro was saying distracted me from the general atmosphere of gloom.

  “Before I was five,” he started, looking across at me, “my mother and I lived in Iran with my father.” He paused. “I loved my father passionately. He was everything. Then he decided to give me up.” The pain was still there, intense and alive. “My father married my mother when she was just eighteen, and he was caught up in the political situation in Iran. She thought he was the most magnificent man she’d ever met. She admired his passion and commitment to a cause. I don’t think she cared much at the time what the cause was. He and his friends were part of the group which was holding 400 people hostage at the American embassy just before Nixon came into power. Their freedom was successfully negotiated, and my father began to lose interest in the cause; thought it had too many flaws. He was about twenty-two when I was born. Gabriella’s family were devastated she could marry without them even meeting. They cut her off. Life in Iran was dangerous for our little family. They attempted to emigrate here, but Australia wouldn’t take my dad. So he sent us off saying he would fight the system and see us soon.”

  It seemed like it might be helpful to go across to him at this point, but he shook his head when I started to get up. Torrenclar put his arm around me and hugged me drawing me closer and I settled back against him.

  “I didn’t see my father again until I was in my twenties. He was in the Baxter Detention Centre. He didn’t look like my dad; not the one I remembered. He looked haggard and lost and old. I keep picturing him behind bars, but he wasn’t. He was sitting at a table in a common room. Visiting your long lost father in prison is hell. I had no idea what to say. I just went away, and I haven’t seen him since.” Flagran had shuffled closer to put his hand on Sandro’s leg. He grasped it hard.

  “How did you find out where he was?” Homarta asked him gently.

  “In Dubai, returning to Iran and searching for him had always been part of my plan. I discovered he’d bought a passage on a medium sized boat and was heading out to find his family in Australia.” Sandro dropped his head. It took a few minutes before he continued.

  “My mother gave up on him when I was about eleven and took up with my step dad. I hated her for a few years and absolutely refused to take him on as a dad. No matter what he did, and he tried lots of things. He’s a good man, but you see I already had a dad.” His voice shook and my guts twisted. It was difficult to imagine him not relating to Gabriella. They were so close now. “When the earthquake happened, Homarta, you stopped me catching the train at Southern Cross. I was on my way to meet a man who thought he could help me find him. He’d escaped from Baxter, took off across the desert in South Australia and I hadn’t been able to find a trace of him. Then this man made contact. He was probably after money, but I’ve been so desperate.” He raised his eyebrows at her with a grim smile.

  No one spoke.

  “Bridey,” he called across to me. He was trembling. Flagran moved to let me sit close between them, and then he spoke to us all.

  “The Source wants us to be involved,” the others nodded, “and had asked Elaris to do some research for you a few weeks back. It seemed important not to distract you while you were sorting stuff with Bridey, and other things, but now I can tell you she found some news of your father in Dandenong.” Beside me, Sandro flinched, and the colour drained from his face.

  “Don’t get excited. He’s not there any longer, otherwise we would have told you sooner, but some neighbours of his would be keen to meet you. The man on the train was another hoax.” I tightened my arm around him and leaned in so he could feel my warmth. My head was spinning with images of the illegal immigrant behind bars, and a five year old boy crying for his father.

  This was not a night for singing. Slowly, the Caretakers slipped away, and we were left alone inside.

  “Sorry to walk out on you tonight, Bridey, but I have to get out of here,” Sandro said. That made sense. We walked together to the front door, held each other tenderly and he went home. A long hot shower while trying to process the evening was followed by a restless night.

  Wednesday came with me feeling tired and overwhelmed. I worked diligently at the kitchen table to distract myself, then decided to go spend some money before work. There was twelve hundred dollars in my bank account of unpaid rent. Never having had money, it was hard to use it. The only imperative was to stock my pantry. Instead, I treated myself to a restaurant meal in Carlton before work. It was lonely. I’d tried to contact Sandro during the day, but he didn’t answer his phone.

  ***

  Thursday morning, before I could drag myself out bed, my phone went off. It was a text from Sandro. “How about dinner tonight?”

  I shuddered. Couldn’t we just leave it? Of course I texted back “Okay. Sounds good.” It was comforting to know he hadn’t walked away, yet.

  Some more research was not only essential for me to catch up, but it helped with the chaos. As the topic opened up, the sense of bewilderment lessened. By twelve o’clock, things were in much better shape all round. I was hungry and decided to do my shopping. The walk appealed to me but one of those trolleys old people use could have come in handy. With my pack on my back and two shopping bags, I set off to walk to the local supermarket. Perhaps it wasn’t very cheap, but the atmosphere was friendly and the produce good quality. Besides, I was rich.

  Before the first corner, Torrenclar appeared. While his appearance was delightful, it felt awkward out with him walking along like this. Apart from that, he clearly had an agenda, and I was anxious about what that might be. “How’re you doing, Bridey?” he asked.

  There wasn’t an easy answer to that, so silence seemed the next best option. “It’s a lot to take in isn’t it?” How did they just get this?

  “I’m struggling,” the faint words mirrored my battles. “Why can’t we just be happy?” Determined not to cry in public, I bit my lip and took a deep breath.

  “You don’t have to get it right you know.” Of course that was essentially correct, but it didn’t work that way with Sandro.

  “He is just so sure about what’s happening, how he feels, where we’re going. I’m terrified I won’t be able to keep him.” Even after this morning’s text, the world was spinning. “What does he see in me, Torrenclar? He could have any number of beautiful, sophisticated women who are mature enough not to behave like me.”

  “Perhaps they are not as lovely as you are in the heart department.” What did that mean, but a wave of pleasure lifted my spirits instantly.

  “This is going to be a stuff up Torrenclar,” I said desperately. He walked quietly beside me thinking.

  “How do you know when I need you?” I asked him. The question had been in the back of my mind for weeks now. “How did Elaris know to come to me? Sometimes I want one of you and I get stumped because I have to wait until you come.”

  “Did you want me just now, Bridey?” His soft voice filled me with indescribable longing.

  “Always.” It was embarrassing, but it popped out. “I thought time alone to think would help, but everything circles in my head, especially what a mess I was in the other afternoon, before we all got together, and how angry Sandro was with me.”

  “Is it possible he was a bit frustrated because he didn’t know how to reach you?”

  “He tried and tried, but he couldn’t tell I was trying too. My mind has been filling up with bad thoughts about myself. They take over. He was lying there right beside me, and I couldn’t talk to him. It was horrible.”

  “When you feel like that, think of one of us. It will help clear the rubbish.”

  “But I don’t want you to come when I’m in bed with Sandro...”

  Torrenclar said slowly, like he was trying to find the right words, “We wouldn’t come, Bridey. It’s a spiritual thing. The messages and the comfort just pass through the airwaves. You can receive comfort like that but more importantly at this time, you need clarity. The confusion is coming from a bad place, and it’s to
o difficult to clear it on your own. We can help you with that.”

  “Is that bad place inside me, because it certainly feels like it?”

  “Are you asking if you are bad?” This was a difficult question. Feeling bad and being bad could be different.

  “Not bad precisely, I think I’m messed up.”

  “Of course you are,” he said reassuringly, “you and the whole human race.”

  “Why are we?”

  “Two reasons. One, you come from stock which has had to develop over centuries making your way forward as a race. Secondly, because you choose not to be in touch with the Source of it all; that which makes sense of the struggle and clears the way.”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t my choice. My parents refused to let me.”

  “So true, Bridey. But now you know at least about the spirit world, what are you doing to rectify it?”

  “The other night when I was desperate to find Sandro, I tried, but nothing happened. I was talking to myself.”

  Torrenclar stopped in the middle of the path, and turned me towards him. “Didn’t it? Are you sure about that?” Pictures of emptiness poured in, and then it came to me, “I had an idea about how to contact Sandro.”

  “Exactly!” Thoughts swirled around as I contemplated this.

  “I’m off, Bridey. You could practice this now if I leave you.” He disappeared in front of me.

  I continued walking and although it felt strange, awkward and uncomfortable I tried to talk with the Source. Why not go straight to the top? At first nothing seemed to be happening, and all my concerns kept interrupting. But then, when I stopped trying to make something happen, a lovely feeling washed over me, and it became very clear I was in good hands. The Source had given me the Caretakers. Clearly I was in luck.