Reluctant Activists

by Helena Phillips

  “I would not have let her kill you Bridey. I have other plans for you.”

  While that sounded good, perhaps, depending on the plans, the rest needed more clarification. “What would have happened if I didn’t ask for help?”

  “One of the Caretakers, your friends, would have come at just the right time, and you and I would not be sitting here having this conversation.”

  This was big stuff for me. My hand tightened in that clasp and a beautiful sense of being kissed surprised and delighted me, replacing the fear. The moment was too short. What came next swept all that away.

  “What shall I do now with Irri-tat, Bridey?”

  I shuddered. “Don’t ask me. How would I know?”

  “You’re the one she attacked. Her fate is in your hands to a certain extent, once I’ve finished with her.”

  “No,” I groaned, desperately uncomfortable with the thought. “I don’t want that.”

  “No, I’m sure you don’t. But nevertheless I am putting it in your hands. What shall I do with her? How should she be punished? Shall I take her back to the mountains?”

  Everything in me wanted to say yes, because that would mean I wouldn’t have to face her again, and not only was she dangerous and had frightened me terribly, she was also a pain in the arse to be around, and I wanted to be rid of her. These thoughts began to wrestle with images of her lonely in the bush somewhere, no friends, nothing to do, no excitement. “That’s not a fair question.”

  “No, you’re right. It isn’t. It would be far easier for you if someone else punished her for you, and you could just forget all about her.”

  “Are you asking me this because I started it? Because it was my fault?”

  “No, Bridey. I’ve already told you it wasn’t your fault. She is responsible for her own actions. All you did was challenge her; not very kindly, but it was all true.”

  The feeling of shame crept back. “It was partly my fault she lost it with me. I do seem to be very lucky with everything these days.”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it. This is your journey. You may be feeling very blessed at the moment, but you won’t always feel this way.” I tried to imagine what that might mean.

  “What shall I do with her, Bridey?”

  “You better leave her here, I suppose.” It sounded grudging but determined. “It’s no good sending her back. She’ll just get worse.”

  “Thank you.” The Source was smiling. I could feel it. “Will you feel safe with her around?”

  “Will you look after me?”

  “I would love to. Thank you for asking.”

  Sitting there with the Source, who was majestic and approachable at the same time, was the most enormous and abundantly filling experience. Words don’t/can’t even approach it.

  “There’s something else I’d like to ask you,” a flush warmed my neck and face. “It’s a bit embarrassing.”

  “Go on. Take a risk.”

  “What should I call you?”

  The smile was even stronger this time. “Everyone calls me anything they like. I definitely prefer names used respectfully, but when people and spirits call me the way they see me, it’s most often a great delight for me.”

  “That’s complicated. I don’t think I can call you anything then.”

  “I’ll leave it with you.”

  The time was up, but there was much more to learn, and I was loath to be separated. For a moment there was the sense of being flooded with love, and then it was gone.

  Menacing memories eased their way back into the garden. What had happened seemed less important while the Source had been with me, but now it poured back leaving me vulnerable and alone, ashamed of my attack on Irri-tat. There was mud all over me, my raincoat and my legs were black. Irritat’s return haunted me. I wanted to flee. Get as far away from this place as possible. Perhaps I should go and live with Sandro. There’s no way we’re ready for that yet. The side gate creaked and I looked over, seriously considering running.

  It was Josh. Immense relief was quickly squashed by his reaction when he saw me. “What’s up Bridey? You look like shit.”

  It’s amazing how quickly lies come when you need them. “Oh, I just tripped over a tree root.” He searched around for one and not finding it looked a little sceptical.

  “D’ja need anything?” Many things ran through my mind, but none of them involved Josh.

  “What do you need Josh?” It was a friendly question but with just a hint of impatience.

  “Well, I was wondering if you had any food actually. I haven’t eaten since yesterday when some old codger bought me a hamburger and gave me a lecture about getting a job.” This was said with cheerful unconcern.

  With that, my mind turned to getting up off that bench, making my way back into the house, cleaning up myself and letting Josh go through my cupboards for food. What were they going to think of me when they knew? Of course they would already know.

  Josh had found some baked beans and bread which he was toasting as though toast was the meaning of life. “Am I in the way?” he asked suddenly.

  “No, why?”

  “Feels awkward around here today.” Josh had come to visit me on his own several times now, and we’d developed a friendly banter which of course was totally missing today. There didn’t seem to be anything I could say without having to tell him the whole story. He was ravenous, and he wolfed the food down totally focussed while I went off to change my clothes and attempt to tighten up my insides. Before he’d finished, Sandro arrived, and I remembered we were going out for a late lunch before I had to work. As he chatted with Josh in the kitchen, my guts were churning, and I couldn’t move.

  Eventually, he came after me and found me sitting on the bed covered in mud. He growled and looked back towards the kitchen, but I whispered quickly, “No. Nothing to do with him.” We couldn’t talk with Josh in the house. And I felt paralysed. He sat beside me until we heard Josh call out, “Thanks, Bridey.” The door slammed, and I made a mental note to think of something to explain my behaviour the next time we caught up with him.

  “What happened?” Answers wouldn’t come. The more I thought about my behaviour and Irri-tat’s reaction the less I could speak about it, even to Sandro.

  “Bridey are you hurt?” He was looking at me anxiously trying to assess where the damage might be. “Was it anything to do with Josh? He seemed okay.”

  “No, it was Irri-tat, before Josh even came.”

  “What happened?” Urgency had crept into his voice.

  With Sandro, I was learning to bring up what I was thinking before he got too impatient with me. Once he was irritated and fear began to take me over, I would never get the words out.

  “I said some horrible things to her, and she attacked me.”

  He was astounded. “I can’t imagine you being horrible to her. Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I told her she was not putting in enough effort, and I was sick of her sulks.” The thought of what happened after that made me shudder.

  “Well it doesn’t look like she did much damage. I wish I’d been here. Was it a cat fight?”

  “Sandro it was no joke. She had her hands around my throat, and she was strangling me. She shoved dirt into my face. It was terrifying. She was terribly strong. I couldn’t do anything about it.”

  He examined my neck and face finding them clear of any signs of being attacked in the way I’d been describing. He went silent.

  “I thought I was dying.” The memory made me shudder. “I called to the Source for help. That’s what stopped her. Instantly. There are no marks because Homarta and the Source must have fixed me up. But it was absolutely horrifying. You have no idea.”

  Sandro did however, have some idea.

  “What happened then?” After he heard about my conversation with the Source, he was not too happy about Irri-tat being around anymore. Apparently it was no news to him that she was jealous of me.

  “Sandro, I’m now going to have to face Hom
arta. And definitely Irri-tat. Take me away somewhere. I don’t want to do this.” We discussed the pros and cons of putting it off. He ran me a bath and climbed in behind me. It made such a difference not being on my own. When the water began to cool, we’d decided to face the music together; and then to head out to eat. Leaving it would have meant coming home, or not, to the unknown. Much too scary.

  Dressing in clean clothes and having clean and dry hair helped. It would be years before I stopped appreciating those things. Sandro was keeping his eye on the backyard through the kitchen window. Flagran had arrived. We were both cheered by what that meant. Chances were Torrenclar would be there too. The only remaining difficulty was my conviction they were all there to judge me and my behaviour. Sandro couldn’t picture that. Holding hands, we went out to face the music.

  All the Caretakers looked up. It felt like walking out onto centre stage. Sandro gripped my hand firmly. Homarta’s face was unreadable. Irri-tat was nowhere to be seen. Flagran poked the dead fire and only Torrenclar smiled. That smile was not his usual glow but more restrained.

  As we approached, Sandro began to speak normally. “Hi guys. Good to see you all.” A tangible ripple of relief ran through the party. Torrenclar stepped forward. He gave Sandro a questioning look which made him drop my hand and move away. He held out his arms to me. I couldn’t look at him, but I let him hold me. When he pulled back to stare at me in concern, he put his hand under my chin and gently raised it to search my face. Then he kissed it in a few places and murmured “I’m really sorry Bridey. I wish you hadn’t been through that.”

  I was stunned. Next, Flagran linked arms with me holding me close against his side. We stood together staring into space. My mind was with Homarta. Why was she holding back? Was this going to be a stand-off? The tension inside grew unbearable. I pulled away from Flagran and turned to face her. She gave me a tentative smile.

  “I’m sorry Homarta. It was a horrible thing to do.” She stared at me, shocked, as I went on. “I didn’t think. It was her telling me she had to go back and how unfair it was. It’s done her a lot of damage hasn’t it?” The confusion on Homarta’s face told me she knew nothing of what had passed between me and the Source.

  “Bridey. It’s me who should be apologising. Irri-tat is going back to the mountains as soon as the Source has finished with her. You don’t have to be frightened anymore.”

  “Oh, but yes I do. She isn’t going. She’s staying here.” They were all struck dumb.

  ***

  15

  Nights in Melbourne were becoming cold as winter deepened. Thanks to the new connection with the landlord a much more effective heater had been installed. This of course only reached the centre part of the house. My bedroom was still freezing. When Sandro stayed with me, we kept each other warm under a thick wool doona which I’d purchased with my newfound wealth from not having to pay rent. Sometimes the deep bath warmed us up together. We lay back both of us dreaming of the beautiful clean tiles and wondering if the floor would survive the weight.

  Cold nights suited Flagran’s need for fires and somehow, not only did we never receive complaints from neighbours or council, but there seemed to be an endless supply of burnables. These were hunted out by Flagran in his trips around the city and collected in the new trailer Sandro had bought and parked at my place. Although the lane at the back of the house, originally there for the night cart, had always been part of my awareness of the place, I had never imagined its usefulness for delivering things.

  We often gathered around the fire, the five of us, sometimes joined by Irri-tat and lately by Josh when he wasn’t in the mood to find us boring. Flagran had developed the habit of cooking the barbeque for us. I loaded him up with mushrooms and onions, sliced potatoes and the odd sausage, but my favourite was chops. Sandro whipped up some incredible salads for us, and the nights when Josh stuck his head in, it was great to have three for the meal. He was still a free spirit. He and Sandro clashed over small things (not surprising when you think of how flammable Sandro had been when I first met him). He couldn’t see that he’d ever been as annoying as Josh, and perhaps he hadn’t done all the illegal stuff, but he certainly hadn’t been easy to raise. You only had to spend some time with Gabriella to hear all about that.

  This Tuesday night following the attack, there were only four. Torrenclar had set off on a mission somewhere and Irri was at one of her haunts around Melbourne, something she did regularly when life around us became too challenging. In this case, she was avoiding everyone because she was in disgrace. The meal over, Homarta had begun to sing. When she lifted up her powerful voice, she sounded like an African woman engaged in tribal business. The strains of the song were many, some of them picked up by Flagran and others by Sandro’s magnificent voice. It had taken me a long time to join in with them, beginning with a soft hum in the background and then, with many pokes and embarrassing silences where they all waited for me to take a risk, I gave up worrying about the way it sounded and did my own thing. They seemed content, and I was ecstatic to be part of a choir!

  The song we were singing together was endless and exotic when we were interrupted and halted into sudden and complete silence because Torrenclar was joining us with his arms full of a figure we didn’t at first recognise. Homarta and Flagran jumped to their feet pushing and pulling chairs around to make room for him to sit with his burden. In the firelight, shadows played across his face. I wanted to go to him, but Flagran put out his hand in a gesture new to me, and held me back. The others had gradually shared their recent experiences of her with us and we were aware of her prison, not that we understood it.

  “It’s Elaris,” said Sandro softly, and Homarta nodded.

  The figure in Torrenclar’s arms had its head buried against his chest and was quite still. We sat in total silence. He was holding her as one would hold a toddler who’d fallen asleep on the way home, but this burden was larger. She’d been missing for so long and from what I’d heard, which was little, she’d been something in the way of a raging demon. He didn’t speak to us, just dropped his head onto hers, crooning softly. The other two Caretakers joined in with a slight hum, and the song wove its way around. It was all creepy, and the urge to go to bed was strong. Sandro moved his chair closer taking my hand in his and holding them both in his lap. Should we even have been there? The Caretakers had taken us into their community so completely it had never occurred to me that spirit business might not be appropriate for us. Torrenclar had brought her here, to my place, and at a time when we were clearly engaged in enjoying each other. I gathered some courage and stayed to await events.

  After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, she turned her head enough to take in the light from the fire, but her eyes quickly closed against it. More minutes passed, and her eyes flickered open again. She seemed small and fragile, but also the vibe from her was dark and ugly. As we waited, her movements increased until she was able to turn out towards us, not making eye contact. Sandro was facing away from the scene. It was horrible.

  “Hello Elaris,” I said gently, horrified to hear my own voice. Where did that come from?

  Abruptly she sat turning her eyes towards me. They were filled with something I couldn’t make out, but it was not pleasant. Torrenclar tightened his arms around her and she said, “It’s alright mister nice guy. I won’t hurt your little favourite.” Her voice lacked all the musical quality it had once had, sounding gravelly and strained.

  Sandro started up in my defense, and the others glared him into stillness.

  “You promised to be nice Elaris.” Torrenclar moved her to a position where he could look into her face. “You need to do this well if you are to stay with us tonight.” Ignoring her snarl, he continued. “You have some big stuff ahead of you, and this is only a weigh station. I can easily return you in a moment.”

  “You’d like to do that wouldn’t you,” she snarled. “Then you could all return to your party in peace.” He stood with her then, turning
to the back lane as though ready to leave. She cried out in a voice filled with misery, and my heart twisted in its haven and began to thump slowly as she was clearly close to breaking. My legs jumped up and went over to them; heaven knows what gave me that sort of courage.

  “Elaris please don’t go away again. We’ve missed you. There has been a big hole every time we get together.”

  She must have been picturing us as rejoicing to be rid of her because she looked down at me from his arms pleadingly and said, “Don’t let him take me back Bridey!” Torrenclar was unmoved and instead of softening, he shook her. It was so unlike him.

  “Don’t try any of your tricks on her sweetheart because the rest of us will not let you pollute her with your nonsense.”

  “Oh, Torrenclar...” I began, but he glared at me, and told me to sit in a voice I hoped he would never use on me again. He shook her harder. Her head rattled from side to side like a tissue in the wind, so fragile it might have torn away. Homarta called to me, but I ignored her. Flagran came over, picked me up, and carted me to the veranda. By the time he was finished telling me off about how little I knew what I was doing, and how unhelpful it was, I was crushed.

  “Take her inside,” he said angrily to Sandro who was coming to my defence. It was unbelievably harsh. Sandro obeyed without question closing the blind to shut out the outside. I sank into a chair at the table with no inkling about why they were angry with me. Sandro watched me helplessly, just as confused. We waited for about ten minutes. Flagran came in through the back door, and I searched his face for some softening, but he was still stern. He came to the table and without any preamble took each of us by the hand, saying, “The Source is asking for you” and swept us away. This was the second time in two days I was facing the Source.

  Travelling through the spirits’ world must be interesting, normally. One could think about what was happening and how this all fitted in to the physical realm, but in this case we were in the dark in more ways than one. Sandro reminded me afterwards that he’d had experiences with Torrenclar and Flagran which had prepared him for this kind of travel, but for me it was terrifying, particularly as we were being summoned.