There is for me a startling realization of hearing the crickets chirp and smelling the musky odor of Marilyn's grandmother's perfume. Not far away a river flowed and I could hear that too. I was there in that moment as it happened and how I came to be there I will never truly know.
The old woman regained her composure and looked at Marilyn. There was no trace of the compassion or concern left in her face. Now there was nothing but a desperation to keep the other woman from finding a fate she had missed out on. The old woman grabbed her granddaughter again set on pulling her into the house.
Marilyn let her grab her but pulled hard against the grip at the same time. Such was the motion that if the grandmother let go Marilyn and I, as one being, would go tumbling backwards over the edge. The drop, though not very far, would still mean death. On the ground below the landing a collection of the grandfather's tools lay scattered about. To fall there would insure that at least one tool would be landed on, most likely finding a delicate organ within Marilyn’s body to shred and kill.
The old woman's fingers bit into the skin of Marilyn's upper arms. Little droplets of blood pooled around the old woman's yellowed nails. I wanted to yell at the old woman, to tell her to stop hurting my grandmother, to stop hurting me who felt the young woman's pain just as vividly as if it were happening to my own body. At the same time I didn't want the grandmother to let go or Marilyn's pulling would cause us to go flying over the edge.
Somewhere in the distance, either my own grandmother, safe in my bedroom back home, or possibly in Marilyn's mind as she spoke to herself, a voice said don't be afraid.
Marilyn laughed at the old woman "It didn't want you."
The statement was meaningless to me. To live in the moment was to hear fine details that were not always in my grandmother's storytelling. However, it stung the old woman deeply.
The grandmother frowned. "So go to them." She said and let her grip slip from Marilyn’s arms. Together, Marilyn and I, sharing that young body, flew backwards over the edge of the porch and into empty space.
There was a brief moment to look on in shock as the grandmother allowed for an action to occur that could prove fatal to her granddaughter. There was no time to focus on that shock though. The fall was very real.
How do you explain the sensation of free falling in a place that exists twenty-some years before you will even take shape in your mother's womb? Marilyn and I fell towards the ground and her mind was moving the whole way down. In her mind she thought of something she wished she had said before letting go. To tell that hateful old woman that she had messed up. You missed them once but you could have found a place with me if only you had not allowed the hate to fester. Now they shut you out, give you the coldness without the comfort of their embrace. I pity you. These were Marilyn's thoughts.
The fall should have not been so long. It should have lasted a moment before the earth raised up to hit us allowing one of the old man's tools to find its way into our back. But the fall was happening in slow motion and the ground was a far way off.
Somewhere beyond the trees a loud whirling wind was forming. An invisible mass of motion and voices, each whispering to one another. It pushed through the forest and caught sight of its target falling over the edge of a roof.
I wanted to feel the earth quickly, to have the fall done, but there came no impact for the wind broke from the forest and swept us up like a feather caught in a breeze. From falling to flying through the forest faster than Marilyn's legs could have ever run. The wind wrapped itself around Marilyn's body like a blanket and snuggled itself close to her skin.
Marilyn cried out in joy not fear. She called out answers to the voices that whispered to her from inside the wind itself. She caught herself sighing as the wind glided over her so slowly, almost seductively. It pressed against her roughly then seemed to slide down over her spine with a lover's touch till it came to rest in the small of her back. As if that wasn't enough, the invisible hands sought out more intimate spots to touch and stroke. It passed over her breasts and lapped at her naval.
Marilyn laughed even harder, enjoying the intrusive touch. I could only experience it with a sense of wonder since I had never felt or known such sensations were possible of the body. Even though my mind was quickly growing up with the telling of this tale, my young body was still not equal of the task. All I could do was marvel over this living wind.
The wind pulled us through the forest and pushed us into a clearing. I could hear the night life making its noises all around. It seemed louder here. I could also hear the faint sound of water running over rocks. Then, a moment later, the river was there before us.
The wind's whispers disappeared as we approached the water and with the loss of the whispering we lost the wind as well. It left us floating some twenty feet above the narrow body of the river. As each moment ticked away, Marilyn's body dipped a little lower, a little closer to the water's surface. With the whispers gone, Marilyn began to think more clearly. She heard her own grandmother's words in her head, the talk of death at the river. She felt a sudden sense of panic.
I wanted so badly to calm her. To tell her that even now, as she lived this here, somewhere in another time a much older version of herself sat next to me in my bed, telling me this story. But I could not; my voice was silent here.
Marilyn's body came to float about five feet above the surface of the water. I could feel the coolness coming off of it, smell the freshness of the stream. Time seemed to slow down as everything died around us. The present kept on moving but we were stuck in this spot. The noises became more and more distant as all the noisemakers traveled on with the world.
We were caught in the spent moment. A place of time used up and left discarded to rot.
We were in a groove and could not move, but at the same time this used niche in space wanted very badly to spit us out. It was like this place of decay could not function properly so long as this living flesh was stuck. There was pure unseen energy building up behind us that gave off heat and an odor that smelled like burned metal. The energy pushed into Marilyn's legs as it beat at her belly and chest. Marilyn was beginning to cry. Her tears were being pulled away by the energy as soon as they overflowed her eyelids. We were slowly suffocating under the weight of this strange force.
The wind was returning though. It could be heard in the distance again. A dull collection of whispers steadily coming forward and getting behind the energy. The first time the whispers had come and grabbed us. This time they threatened to plow over us, tearing Marilyn's body apart with their deafening roar.
The wind pushed against the energy and the energy kept building behind us. It felt like being the cork in a bottle of soda water that needed to be opened. Marilyn cried out in pain and I was sure the forces pushing at her would eventually crush her. But as it heightened to a peak it all exploded and Marilyn and I were propelled forward like a bullet being shot from a gun.
Marilyn, moments before locked in the past, now pushed through the fabric of the present and soared into the future. Her body once again moved over the water, the speed of her motion increasing till the air pressing against her seemed to burn. She let her arms move out as though she were letting her wings out to catch the breeze and take flight.
All the while Marilyn screamed with laughter. It was the flight that most people only knew in their dreams. I'm not dreaming this, she cried over and over in her mind. The idea that maybe somewhere, back there on that porch or maybe on the ground below, her body lay dying didn't seem all that bad. If this was death then dying was under rated. It made life seem more like a punishment and less like a gift. None of that mattered any longer, none of it. She couldn't feel the ability to worry or feel upset by the things in her life that had stuck out like sore little wounds. Nothing mattered any longer and there was a great measure of pleasure in such an idea.
The wind guided Marilyn's body around the bends and turns of the river, leading her towards the place at the river's end that let out into a l
arger body of water. At that opening the night sky seemed to grow brighter. Not like the sun was somewhere peeking out to lighten it, but more like the curtain of night was no longer as dark as she once viewed it. I could feel Marilyn's curiosity, wondering what thing could take away the dark shading of the night sky.
The trees disappeared as did the land that ran along side of the river. Our speed was still increasing as a calm overcame Marilyn's whole body. With the calm came the feeling of the body giving way. The skin that imprisoned her was tossed off. The rope like veins that encircled her limbs was pulled away like so much thread from her muscle mass. Then the muscles themselves were pulled away like meat from a carcass. A layer of solid, brilliant yellow glowed around her inner body; the protective energy that covered the soul. The glowing wrap held on for a moment before bursting into a million points of light that fell away into the water below. All that was left was the purest form of energy that was the real Marilyn and that form soared closer to the water as a spirit.
I continued to travel inside of this woman, hidden somewhere in that energy. I wondered if I would wake up from this experience at some point. Was it just a dream? I found the idea of having to eventually wake and return to my own body a very cruel thought. In this form I could imagine why some ghosts stayed close to the earth.
The water below us began to hum and the night time sky lightened even more. We were almost there, wherever there was. It was just a feeling.
Up ahead it seemed as if the water went on forever, though if you looked real closely there was a drop not too far away. Possibly a water fall that took the water down to a lower level.
I held my breath knowing where we were, what we were about to see. This was the thing my grandmother was first describing when she began her story. It was this thing that was made of cool liquid and running glass. Something so smooth and sleek you could cut yourself on its curves. It had three separate bodies as well as three separate minds, yet it thought as one being. Grandmother always had a hard time putting this thing into words. I couldn't believe I was about to actually see it.
In the distance I could just make out three figures. I began to relax just as the spirit of Marilyn began to tense. She was at first upset because of their presence. She wanted this to be her place and her place alone. She wanted to order the wind with a simple command to touch her in all the ways she'd never been able to make a man touch her. Most of all, she wanted this experience to be her’s alone. Like a spoiled child she didn't want to share.
It was at that moment of her anger that she heard the collective voice of the three figures. The jealous thoughts kept crossing her mind and the voice told her this was natural for her to feel, but she should push such thoughts away. It would only weigh her down till she fell into the waters below. Below the waters a spirit would simply sink forever and ever.
The idea of being lost below the water startled the woman. Marilyn did her best to still her thoughts. She tried to concern herself more with seeing what was in front of her. What this thing looked like.
At the edge of the water, were it gave way to a water fall, three female forms hovered above the surface. They appeared to stand on an invisible platform some ten feet above the water's surface. The tops of their forms were quite defined but as you moved down their bodies slowly began to fall apart into a gas-like form. The legs merged into one limb that stretched casually down to the waters below. Each form was slightly shrouded by a brilliant thing of light, whose colors swirled in and over the women changing constantly. They looked like the visions people described as angels. Angels that floated slightly apart from one another in the shape of a triangle.
Marilyn looked very hard to see past the glowing shrouds to the faces hidden within. The act of focusing seemed to encourage the trio to be better seen.
The woman at the middle, who stood before the others, had no defining traits of a woman in her body. She had no hair upon her head or nipples upon her slightly slopping breast. Her skin was as white as ivory and her features were very feminine and beautiful. This woman smiled at Marilyn as the two met one another's eyes. Then the colored shroud seemed to burst with light and erase the vision of the woman behind it.
The woman to the right did not want to be seen and she kept her shroud bursting so that Marilyn could never quite see the figure behind the colored swirls of light. Ever so often she could just catch sight of the woman briefly. Her skin was the color of lilacs and her hair long strands of silver, almost metallic like. Her hair was long and wrapped around her body, slowly losing its solid form as it came to the legs that stretched into the water. Her face was severe though, too cruel to be very beautiful.
The last woman to the left only hid behind a faint glowing bit of the colored shroud. Her skin was a lighter shade of ebony, smooth and polished looking. Her hair was course and pulled into cords that wrapped about her head. Her face was painfully beautiful and wise; the vision of a long dead Egyptian queen.
The wind pulled at Marilyn and began their probing a new. It tried to whisper in her ear but she would not take her gaze away from the three visions before her. The wind pressed more urgently.
The air hummed as the creatures spoke again. "They are jealous of you. They would have your attention instead of me." the collective voice said to Marilyn.
I thought that I could just make out the individual voices of each woman. But just as I thought I could pick them out they meshed into one voice again.
Marilyn willed herself to stop, her free flight coming to an end. She let her body stand so that she was facing the vision instead of floating on her belly. She looked at each individual.
I could feel a sadness inside of Marilyn, something that made her feel bitter. Moments later she was crying as she addressed the figures.
"You're the banshees that crazy old woman told me about. Each of you are so lonely, I can feel it. It's choking me... this loneliness causes you to act as one so you can fool yourselves."
In front of Marilyn the colored shroud glowed brighter and it seemed to pulsate. I believe it was either shocked or saddened by the young woman's words. Yet I think Marilyn was speaking with a bit of knowledge. The women, lost out here in this water filled nothingness, seemed hopelessly lonely.
The colors swirled and the four spirits (and one mental hitchhiker) that occupied this space stood in silence. Marilyn continued to cry and the ladies continued to gaze past the shroud at her. Finally there was a collective sigh as the women spoke again in that eerie singular voice.
"It surprises me that you should come to that conclusion so quickly. Most of the guests who visit me do not utter such thoughts until much later. But I ask you this: Would you not be lonely if your place was just beyond the present? Do you see anyone other then me in this place? And do not mention the wind for that is only the gathering of lost souls who found their way here. They are nothing of value. There is only me, myself and I in this place. There was a time when each of those words referred to a different person, a different identity, but that was long ago."
Marilyn let the tears glide over her phantom cheeks but the sobs had stopped. She was trying to understand what this being was trying to say to her and in part she did understand. "And were you always here or are you trapped? Did the three people you once were come as one or did you find your ways here alone?"
The vision sighed and seemed to smile. It was as though it were pleased with the questions.
"In the time that I was three identities we found our way here alone. First there was I..." and at this the black female glowed a little brighter to show it was her being spoken about. "I found this place to be so peaceful that I could not leave. Then the loneliness began to overshadow the bliss. And then I found my way here through magic and mistake..." The middle woman bowed her head to show this was her tale. "And I found myself here lonely so I befriended myself and there was bliss once again. It only lasted a short time even though there is no time measured here."
I held my breath because I wanted to
hear the cruel looking woman speak about herself. How had she found her way here and why had she stayed? She did glow brighter but a moment as though she wanted not to draw attention to herself as she told her story.
When Jupiter Sighs Page 4