Reluctant Activists

by Helena Phillips

  In too little time, we came to the point in the river where the flow disappeared. Sandro and I had stood here on the Saturday of our weekend away. It hadn’t felt like this then. I remembered feeling delighted and full of spirit feelings which were totally different to these ones. Huge quantities of water, enough to create an astounding noise which filled the area so much it was impossible to hear anything else, suddenly and inexplicably disappeared into a massive boulder. I took all this in. It was important. How, I had no idea. Then he turned and started back along the path pulling up way further down at the place where the flow shot out from under the boulder again. We watched it do that for a while, and I began to settle.

  Then he said, “Bridey we are going into that.” The words made no sense at all.

  “Well you may be. But I’m certainly not!”

  “Yes, you are. We are going to do this together.”

  “Why on earth would I want to do that?”

  He didn’t speak. We continued to stare at the hole; or rather at the water rushing from where it appeared out of the ground. Theme park rides are not my thing. I’d already explained this to Sandro in one of our discussions where he’d been enthusiastically telling me about activities he found exciting and I knew to be terrifying. Rooted to the spot, I struggled to rescue my hand, but it was as fixed as Irri-tat’s hands had been around my neck. This was another death.

  “Up to this point Bridey,” Torrenclar began, “have you trusted me? Have I ever put you in danger or asked anything of you that’s too hard?” No, he hadn’t, but that was not the point.

  “If I don’t do this, what happens then?”

  “You will think of Irri-tat.”

  There was absolutely no comparison between me doing this terrifying thing for no purpose, and Irri getting a little courage with everyone around to help her. Torrenclar was completely unmoved by the argument. Never trust angels who seem to be all sweetness and light. It’s a myth.

  “Soon we will be taking on some new adventures, Bridey, and doing this will give you courage for them.”

  I didn’t want any new adventures and certainly wasn’t keen to develop any courage which might make me terrify myself. Frozen in panic, I called to the Source. “Don’t make me do this, please don’t? I’ll do anything you want. I’ll take Irri-tat and help her any time you need me to. Just don’t make me do this.” This time the Source didn’t come, and didn’t answer.

  As I stood there, my hand locked in Torrenclar’s, something changed. He slowly released my hand. This indicated the challenge was withdrawn, and I whispered a quiet thank you to the Source. But, inexplicably, instead of feeling released, the thought of getting it over with arrived. Even now it’s too hard to explain how that worked in me. No matter how much it terrified me returning without doing this was too much of a failure. “Okay.” I said rushing, grabbing Torrenclar’s hand. “Don’t you dare let go!”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Hold on a minute. Why are we going in backwards? It would be bad enough going through the hole downstream, but this is ridiculous.”

  “Because salmon swim upstream to reproduce.”

  “But I don’t want to reproduce. Yet.”

  “Shall we do this?” All I could do was nod, struck dumb with fear.

  We began to approach the water slowly. Why couldn’t he take me in the same manner he’d brought me here? It was absolutely freezing. We stood in the middle of winter facing a stream so cold it was unthinkable. The plan was for me to completely immerse myself in it, voluntarily. I tried to pull back.

  “For your sake we need to get this over with quickly,” Torrenclar said, and as I nodded again, he pulled me into the raging stream of freezing mountain waterfall.

  “Take a breath!”

  I was going to die, but even then taking a breath was inevitable. He pulled me under and next we were travelling through the stone against the water pressure. My ears and nose filled up, and the pain from the cold was excruciating. Because of the pressure of the water, it took too long to progress. I was battling to live, desperate to breathe, unable to make sense of where I was or how far the end would be.

  Then we were through. Spluttering and shuddering and unable to put my feet anywhere, I reached the top of the boulder by being dragged up it, slime spread all over my clothes.

  Torrenclar was looking glorious, filled with light, wet and smooth and tall and strong. I, on the other hand, was shaking and shivering and unable to believe in life. He struck a rock with a stick, and flame sprang up surrounding me with heat. At least I was too wet to burn. Steam filled the air around me. He reached into somewhere, surely he didn’t have pockets, bringing out a flask of something which he insisted I drink. Warmth spread through my body. It must have been alcohol because I began to feel good as the cold receded. It was impossible to grasp the fact that I had survived.

  “You have twice in the last two days faced what you were sure would be too much for you,” Torrenclar said. “Now you are ready for real adventures.”

  “But there was no choice.” Shivering and still shocked by the suddenness of this particular adventure which had come from nowhere, I said, “You brought me here against my will.”

  “True. But you stayed of your own choice. Not mine. Not the Source’s. You also chose to let Irri-tat stay and grow.”

  “I didn’t want to, and I regretted it immediately after.”

  “Of course you did. Just because you choose something doesn’t mean it will then be easy. Sometimes you have to be taken to places you don’t want to go and given choices you feel you’re not up to. That’s the only way we grow.”

  “You don’t have to though.”

  He laughed. “Of course I do. But my challenges are of a different nature altogether.”

  “What could you be afraid of Torrenclar,” I scoffed.

  He became grave and thoughtful. “My challenges are all about my relationship with the Source.”

  “When you say that, I don’t want to go on with this. It’s terrifying. If it’s always a struggle, why would anyone do anything to bring on more?”

  “Now you understand what Irri-tat is struggling with.”

  “But that’s different.”

  “Only because your struggles are so different from hers.”

  “This was a punishment to make me understand.”

  There was a quick flash of anger. “How can you say that? Where are you now?” It made no sense. I just wanted to go home and live a normal life.

  “Are you angry with me now, Torrenclar?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Just a moment ago, you were angry. I saw it.”

  “True. But no, not with you. It was a very brave thing you did. You can’t see that now, but you will when you look back.”

  I smiled at him tentatively. He held out both his hands. “Are we still friends?” While I put mine in his, there was hesitation surrounding his question. For the first time I had experienced his strength and power, and it frightened me, making me want to draw back. His smile was wistful. He began to journey home with me more slowly than on the inward trip. We made stops along the way, but made little conversation. It was clear he was giving me time to process before landing back in the real world. While grateful for it, there was a sense of loss.

  16

  Bridey

  You can imagine how much I wanted to go to work after that. There was no sign of Sandro when I finished the shift, and he must have been still sulking because he didn’t even text. I was tired from yesterday’s ordeal and pissed off with his behaviour when I needed him. It was clearly his problem he couldn’t face knowing the fate of his father. It certainly wasn’t mine. We were booked in to see the manager of the Centre for Multicultural Studies in Dandenong at three o’clock. From there the plan had been to visit one of Sandro’s father’s ex neighbours. The couple were half expecting us, but Sandro had built in an escape clause for himself; it depended on time.

  Early the followi
ng morning I was faced with Irri-tat. This was so far from what I needed every excuse not to venture outside whipped round and around in my head. Homarta and I hadn’t even spoken about what had happened yet. The massive event of the gathering at the waterfall had passed as if we’d all gathered to have a cup of tea.

  The day was one of those cold winter ones towards the end of June when the clouds decided to clear for a change and allow some blue sky to poke through. Josh was fast asleep in the spare room. The days when you need the most sleep you wreck it by waking way before you’re ready, and it’s always impossible to drift off again. I felt groggy and grumpy.

  It looked like Homarta was instructing Irri-tat. There were piles of weed looking things in their laps, and they were bent over them talking seriously. Something kept coming over me making me take risks I’d decided not to take. There didn’t seem to be any way of simply enjoying life. I was over challenges! After a slow breakfast and two cups of tea, I couldn’t come up with any further delays.

  The chill in the air increased along with the heat in my body. At first they didn’t notice me. It was Irri-tat who looked up and instantly dropped her work preparing to leave. Homarta said something, and she sat down again, bending to gather up the herbs (which is what they turned out to be). The resentful look on her face told me the climate hadn’t improved much since last we’d met. Maybe it was fear; maybe it was anger. She should’ve been feeling, at the very least, embarrassed.

  The walk across the garden was horrible. Would I sit down with them? Wait ‘til invited? Say hello and leave quickly? Neither of them spoke. Homarta’s greetings had always been one of my favourite parts of venturing outside. Now she was distant. Torrenclar had been tough and stern the day before. Everyone was against me. Except perhaps Josh.

  “What are you two up to?” The complete silence made leaving appealing, but when I began to turn away Homarta stopped me.

  “Don’t go Bridey. Irri-tat has something to say to you.”

  “Oh, no,” I said hastily. “It’s alright.”

  Homarta was stern. “Irri-tat!”

  I waited. Homarta focussed on the young spirit, and the silence continued. About five minutes passed. It was ridiculous. Homarta frowned at me when I became restless, and I didn’t want to piss her off so I hung about feeling stupid. It reminded me of times when my mother had been forcing me to apologise and I’d been absolutely determined not to give in.

  Eventually this little voice said sullenly, “Thank you for letting me stay here.” Well! She could have apologised for attacking me!

  “Irri-tat. If you don’t apologise, we can’t move forward,” said Homarta firmly.

  “What if I don’t want to move forward?” She was such a sulky sook.

  “You have two choices,” Homarta was clear and decisive. “Either you apologise to Bridey, or you will go back to the Source. Which is it to be?”

  During the silence which followed, my mind went back to how it was for the Source when people or spirits were terrified. If my mother had told me “wait until your father gets home”, I would have thought, Great! Let me spend some time with him alone. But she never suggested it. On Irri-tat, the pronouncement had a profound impact. She cowered in obvious terror.

  “Is it not clear what you are to do to begin repairing things? It’s only at Bridey’s request that you are remaining here. Isn’t this what you want?”

  She thought about it while I tried to be patient.

  Homarta began to speak again. Her hesitation and her tone made me uncomfortable. “When I was younger, it was a habit of mine to see myself as pretty slick. One day I decided to leave my job.” She hesitated and taking a deep breath, continued. “There were some new strains of herbs, these here actually, which is reminding me of that time.” A shudder passed through her. “I was keen to go off and explore how they might be developed for medicines and breakthrough treatments, but my exciting ideas were out of sync with the Source’s plans. It seemed ridiculous and hard to understand how the timing made any difference. I made up my mind that ku was holding me back for no good reason. It is pathetic now, looking back. The job was satisfying and productive, as much peace and quiet as needed, friends everywhere, all the freedom possible, but I was impatient to be off. My ideas and plans were making me restless and appeared far more important than any of that. The worst of it was I believed my Eagle, the Creator, loved me so much I must be particularly important. Ku didn’t realise how ready I was to take on new ventures. This was all quite clear to me.” To my horror, tears began to falling down her cheeks.

  “When ku came after me and called me to order, it went like this. Everything about me became like sawdust, stuff you blow away. All the creative ideas, of which there had been plenty flowing through my mind continuously, dried up. My core felt lifeless. Ku towered over me demonstrating how all my creativity flowed from the Source and had no relation to any greatness on my part. It was withdrawn then. You saw me, Bridey, when I was stripped of my powers after the tantrum resulting in an earthquake. That was nothing. Then, I was certain my Eagle loved me dearly and would not leave me to wither away. All I had to do was to be humble. Seek out my place again, and all would be well.”

  She struggled to speak the next words. “My nature keeps pulling me to think about my wonderful ideas and how good I am. There have been several events like this one over the years, because my focus slips backwards towards all that could be achieved without the restrictions of having to check in. Timing is a common theme. The way the Source sees it, everything has its time. Which means each small change here will impact on every other plan and development.”

  She coughed and gasped for breath, pushing herself to keep talking to us. “But the very worst was the first time. It was years before my creativity returned and only when my place in creation became clear. My dear Eagle, for the first and last time, spoke to me in a way I will never forget, then deserted me for years. Well it felt like that; although I know now ku is always waiting and watching. But there were no conversations. No awareness of a presence. No feelings of Love. It was a barren time. Everything about the earth has been enriching always, except for those years when nothing would grow to fullness, animals kept their distance, other spirits, any I would have wanted as friends, stayed distant. It would all fix itself eventually, and I continued doing what I thought would get me out of the hole. But it took far too long for me to work out what was wrong.”

  I went and stood behind her wrapping my arms around her neck and snuggling my face into hers. She reached for my arm holding it there for a minute. Then she stood up and faced Irri-tat who sat with her head bowed, and she shouted at her.

  “All you have to do is apologise to Bridey and you are free, Irri-tat. Free to become yourself and take on the work ahead of you. The interest and excitement is missed while you cling to your rubbish. Bridey was right. You are lazy. If you don’t pull yourself out of this, you will be lost. Leave me now and think on this.” My thoughts went to my resistance to coming out here this morning, and about how often I avoid things. Irritat started towards Homarta, but she was dismissed with a wave of her hand. She slunk away then to wherever she went.

  My love for Homarta increased to a level where her disapproval or anger no longer felt dangerous, after that story. When she showed her weakness, it was hard not to cry with her. Because she was so big compared to me, she pulled me onto her lap and we sat there together for an hour or so. She was keeping me warm from the cold winter air, and I was comforting her because Irri-tat had been such a challenge, and she felt she was failing. “Bridey, it wasn’t helpful to scream at her. I couldn’t stop myself.” I snuggled deeper into her, and the Source was all around us.

  It was ten o’clock before I broke away. I’d decided to ride my bike around to Sandro’s on the off chance he’d be there; didn’t want to face being rejected by phone. The wind was cool. I pulled up and resettled my hat down over my ears, my scarf across my mouth and took off again. The exercise helped. This would b
e the first time I’d been to Sandro’s without him picking me up.

  As Brunswick St. approached, my nerves began to take over. But after my morning, determination won out. It occurred to me suddenly to stop and focus on the Source before hitting Sandro’s place, so I sat in a coffee shop on my own, facing away from the street and focussed. I particularly asked for help for our time in Dandenong; if he came. Feeling more settled, I set off again, pulling up outside Sandro’s house and hoping Flagran might be around. He wasn’t. Struggling with the gate, my hands were shaking. The doorbell rang in the distance. For a while no one appeared to be home, and a wave of disappointed relief was flowing over me when the door opened. He was beautiful, and I was besotted. He stood back holding the door for me. He offered me coffee. I sat on the high stool watching him.

  He leant across the bench putting his chin in his hands and stared at me quietly. It was clear there were no problems between us. “It’s good to see you,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “What have you been up to? Are you in the area?”

  “No. This is a special visit.”

  “I’m glad,” he said. “Bridey, I’m sorry I’m such a pain.”

  “You are,” I grinned. “You are so painful for me to be around I don’t know why I put up with you.”

  He leant further across the bench and reminded me he was a lovely kisser. Then he told me about his time with Source the day before. When someone describes this stuff to you, and you’ve experienced it yourself, you feel excited for them, and a little jealous that it wasn’t you. In comparison to my afternoon with Torrenclar at the waterfall, he’d had the better deal. Mine had been terrifying and too hard.

  We spent the next hour or so going through the possibilities of what might happen today and what it might stir up for him, which ranged from hope (an unwelcome visitor from the past), grief (maybe his father would turn out to be dead), anger (because it had all been so near, yet he hadn’t known) and many other worries, some of which he couldn’t articulate well, but they were there. Then we walked out for an early lunch because we were starving. Flagran joined us. While he was there, I told them both about my past twenty four hours.