by S. B. Niccum
“But you can’t give me those answers.”
“I have to let the natural course of life unfold, undisturbed.”
“What’s the use of a gift if you can’t use it? Why would God give me this gift? What’s the purpose of it?”
“Ahh … that question, I can answer. Your gift is one that encompasses many aspects, and it has many applications. It’s called, the Gift of Discernment. Through it, you can read people’s natures and sometimes perceive their thoughts, like with Dorian. If you had your gift for that reason alone, it would be worth it, would it not?” I nodded. “But that has only been one of the reasons for you having this gift. You can see people's natures; you see them because to you, they shine. That light you see, their aura, tells you something about them; tells you a lot in fact.”
“It feels more like an instinct rather than something I see. I mean, I see it, but mostly I feel it.” I shook my head trying to understand it myself. It’s like trying to explain what sorrow feels like, or love, or any other type of emotion.
“Seeing this in people has helped you make friends, and naturally kept you from making the wrong kind of friends.” I thought of Agatha and how much I disliked and mistrusted her from day one.
“What about the voices? Hearing you … and them.” I looked up to thin air.
“Well, that my dear was a bonus ability that has been part of you since—well—always. It’s a sixth sense, like seeing, smelling, tasting, hearing … ”
“What about the dreams? How come I can share dreams with Alex?” I could hear her mouth extending into a smile.
“That that just happened I guess. The Eternals, the Godhead I mean, they communicate with us through what we call, the Link. They are Linked to all of us, dead or alive or unborn.”
“Unborn?”
“Arrgg! There I go again! Just—just stay with me okay?” She begged and I nodded with a smile.
“Okay, as I was saying, they communicate to us through the Link. Eventually this ability can be achieved by all of us, but it’s currently way out of our reach. Except for you two.”
“You mean to tell me that we are the only humans who can do this?”
“No, there have been a few others. I think it’s forged by closeness and a natural tendency to openness. I think that not only are you two meant to be together, but also you have nothing to hide from each other. It seems that your love is … very pure. Some people can love more than one mate, while other people,” her voice got husky; “never fully open their hearts like you two have to each other. So naturally, we can’t Link like you two can. … Maybe someday.”
“You mean to say that if Alex were to … die, I would never be able to fall in love with someone else?” She was quiet for a long time, I don’t think it was my plight that puzzled her, but rather her own.
“I don’t think you would,” she murmured. “I didn’t love him you know, I—” She never finished. In fact, she seemed to have flown away or something, because I sat there waiting for a long time for her to finish her sentence, but it never came. Finally I stood up and went back to the house. Amor was just setting the lunch things out on the back deck. We were having another cold soup—Ceviche—raw fish cured only with fresh lime and salt. My taste buds were dubious at first, but then I realized that the fish was actually cooked, just not with heat.
As soon as my bowl was empty, Paz walked out and plopped herself down on a recliner. I don’t think I ever get used to seeing a nun walking around so casually.
“Hard morning, hermana?” Amor asked with a grin.
“Agh!” Paz draped one hand over her eyes. “The girls were crazy today! Paid no attention at all! Drove me mad! I’ll have to talk to some of the parents while I’m in town.”
“Oooh, that bad?”
Paz nodded.
“We want to come too!” Luz exclaimed with the utmost excitement. I guess she was over the scare she had yesterday.
Minutes later, Dorian, Luz and I were climbing inside an old Volkswagen van with a hand painted picture of the Sacred Heart, and the words “Hermanas del Sagrado Corazon” written around it. Luz held in her lap, a large basket filled with bread and vegetables from the garden: corn, tomatoes, summer squashes, and jalapeños.
On the car ride over to the town, Paz talked endlessly about Dorian, and how happy they were to have him around. “He has been, not only a great friend to Luz, but also a great help to have around the house.” He had been able to perform some of the heavy work that they had been neglecting for a long time. “We would love it if he stayed!” Paz said succinctly.
“I don’t know about that, Aunt Paz, I can’t just leave him here. Besides, I’ve taken responsibility for him.”
“Well, it’s just a thought. I wanted to throw that out there. If he wants to stay, we wanted you to know that he is very welcome to. He seems to fit in quite nicely with us!”
I turned and looked back at Dorian, who met my eyes and smiled from ear to ear. “You like it here Dorian?” He nodded enthusiastically. “OK, we’ll see. Maybe we can try it for a few months and if it doesn’t work out, I can come back and pick him up.” Paz agreed, and Luz started to jump up and down in her seat.
As we drove into town we passed a tall, thick, adobe wall that looked like it had been damaged by fire. It seemed to stretch out quite a ways and it was encircling something. “What’s that?”
“The old burned down Mission,” Paz said, “It burned down about ten years ago, and no one has bothered to fix it back up. The mission itself is much older, colonial times I think, but when I was first sent here, the buildings inside were used as a school. I worked there myself. When it burned down, the school moved to the convent, and I’ve been teaching there ever since. The problem is, that only girls can come to the convent,” she sighed, “I would love to go in there and rebuild the school, so boys don’t have to go so far to get an education. I would love to … ”
“What?”
She shook her head, “ … have the money to buy back this place and do all the renovations.”
I turned and looked back at the mission; it was calling to me somehow. Could it be that I was destined to buy this place for my aunt? I had the money, and I had to spend it!
Sitting against one of the outer walls of the mission, meddling with some junk was a hobo. He looked up the moment the van passed by and he fixed his eyes on mine. I expected to see liquor filled, blood shot eyes, but instead they were lustrous, piercing, and alert.
The downtown district consisted of just a few vendor packed-blocks that led to the main plaza, or park, that was located in the center. Crowning one end of the plaza stood an old church with a bell tower on top. There were no swings in this park, just an old fountain, benches, some trees, and more vendors. My eye caught several handmade linen blouses made after the traditional Spanish way, with a scoop neck, ruffles, and embroidered flowers. Paz had found one of her pupil’s parents, who was working one of the stands, so she headed right over with a determined schoolmistress, step. I wandered off to look at the goods that were being sold, while Luz and Dorian headed straight for the churros.
The shopping area was small, and it all revolved around the plaza, and a few side streets, so I shopped leisurely, not worried about getting lost.
I hated haggling so I paid the price that I was told. This made me a quick and easy target for other vendors, who were glad to make me other offers. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by people; all trying to sell me their products, by way of shoving them in my face. As graciously as I could, I tried to escape them, but not before I had several bags filled with blouses, dresses, a purse, a handbag, some silver jewelry and a huge broad brimmed straw hat.
My hands were full, and I found myself in the middle of the plaza looking about in search of familiar faces, or at the very least the street I was originally on. But from this vantage point, every street looked the same to me and I saw no sign of Paz, Luz, or Dorian, who should have stood out by his mere height.
I bou
ght myself a churro, and asked the vendor if he knew where Luz had gone. He pointed to one of the side streets and I headed in that direction. But the street was desolate and bore no resemblance to the one we came down. I would have turned around and gone straight back the way I came, but something familiar caught my eye. It was one of the corners of the mission we had driven by. I walked straight up to it and dropped all my bags on the ground.
The wall called to me so I placed the palm of my hand on the cool, hard exterior and a strange surge of longing discharged from it. I placed the palm of my other hand on it as well and another surge shot straight through me. I leaned in and placed my cheek against it, and felt as if that wall was the dearest place on Earth. I longed to be in there. It almost felt like … like the answer to all my problems was held inside this ruin.
Could this be a sign that I’m supposed to buy this place and donate it to Paz, so it could be turned into a school again?
“You like this place?” a man’s voice said with a thick Spanish accent.
I turned and found myself face to face with the hobo I had seen earlier. “I think I do,” I responded.
“Maybe you should go inside, see what you find,” he suggested.
“There you are!” Paz yelled from the other direction. I turned to face her and she was walking briskly toward me; her black nun’s habit rustled around her and made her look like a strange crow, about to take flight. “Where did you go? What are you doing here?”
“I was just—” I turned to look at the man, but he was gone, “—looking for you, but then I found this place, and—. Did you see the man that I was just talking with?”
“Man, what man? Was there a man bothering you?” Paz asked alarmed.
“No, not bothering me.” I turned and looked again, but there was no sign of him.
“Come on; I left Dorian and Luz alone at the computer place.”
Chapter 22
That night I dreamt of that mission wall, I was scaling it like Spiderman. I woke up and lay awake for a while, and when I finally went back to sleep, I dreamt of that wall again. This time I was not climbing it but was stuck to it. There was a force that was keeping me attached like a magnet. Then the hobo showed up again. He was holding an ax, but not in a threatening way. He was simply holding it as someone would hold a tool they were about to use.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
“Mathonihah,” he answered.
“What kind of name is that?”
“Native American.”
“This ax, what is it for?”
“It’s a tool; you know what it’s for.”
“Will I use it?”
“You are the ax; let Him be the hand … ” Mathonihah turned and walked away, after placing the ax on the ground at my feet. He had a curious face, like that of an old man, only he wasn’t old. He reminded me of that policeman, John Lovell, who interrogated me after Agatha disappeared and was in that picture with my dad. They both shone differently than other people did. Their auras were brighter, but they also hinted of something ancient … as if they held the wisdom of the ages in their hands.
When I woke up in the morning, my body was aching, as if I had been literally stuck to that wall all night, my fingertips felt raw as well, as if I had really climbed that wall. It was still early, so I thought I’d take a walk on the beach.
Instead, I found Amor doing Yoga on the sand; she was in the middle of her Sun Salutation when I joined her.
I wasn’t very good at Yoga, but I followed her every move. As I stood straight and stretched my arms high over my head, and then slowly bent forward and into Down Dog, my tight muscles started to stretch and relax.
From the beach we could hear noises coming from the kitchen. It was Luz, playing the piano.
“She has played that song every day, since dad died,” Amor mentioned.
“Really, did he teach her?”
“No.”
Luz’s mind had never developed beyond the age of ten or so, and the most astonishing thing was, she looked young. Her body was like that of a grown woman, but when you saw her face, you couldn’t help but see the child. She lived just like a child, who played all day among the flowers and birds. I envied her bliss. No doubt, no one would wish to have a disability, but she made it look appealing. Dorian often joined her in her girlish games, and together they did their chores and tended the garden like the innocent Adam and Eve might have before the apple incident.
That day went much as the other days had, and I was getting into the rhythm of life here with my aunts. But I felt fidgety; I hadn’t had a single dream about Alex since the last one where the man promised him that help was coming. I wondered if maybe help had come and they were safe; or if they had tried to escape, but got caught and were in even more trouble than before.
During tea I asked Paz if she knew anything about the old burned out mission and if it was for sale. She told me that she had checked on it, and the mission had recently been purchased under a random company name, “International Investments”, or something. You couldn’t get more generic than that. The actual owner’s name was a mystery.
This was a great disappointment to me, because I wanted that building more than anything else I had ever wanted. The oddest part was that acquiring it so it could be converted into a school seemed secondary in importance. So why did I want it so badly?
“Señor DeLeon.”
“Are they ready?”
“Sí señor, they are ready for the exchange. You’ll be here for it?”
“Yes, I’ll be there first thing in the morning. I trust you kept them isolated and that you told no one about them?” The phone connection was not the best, but it was good enough to convey the threat in Eros’ voice.
“Sí señor,” Teodoro eyed Mathonihah, with misgiving. He had gotten drunk a few nights ago with the money that he had been paid up front. Unfortunately, Mathonihah the old Indian Shaman, had celebrated with him and later insisted on seeing the prisoners out of mere curiosity. He was harmless of course, had no family, came and went and did his odd Indian things, so Teodoro hadn’t worried much about him, until now.
“The one—the girl one … she’s bad.” Teodoro changed the subject, “She has the fever, she might not make it.”
“Well you had better do something to make sure she does make it. A lot of money is riding on this and I’m not about to lose one of them right before I get paid,” Eros warned.
“But she needs a doctor; I don’t know what to do for her.”
“No, no doctors. Don’t you have a curandero or something? Just pay one of the town’s healers to give her some of those Indian homemade drugs you have down there. Just tell them it’s for a cousin of yours and that you need something to give to her.”
“Well…okay, I think I know just the one.”
“Just make sure that they can all stand when our visitors come. If you do this well, you’ll be a rich man.”
“Sí señor.” As soon the line was severed, Teodoro shook his head. “Mathonihah, can you cure the girl?”
Mathonihah shrugged uninterested. “Tal vez,” he said, “I need to go up to the mountains and get some herbs. I come later and cure her.”
“How late?”
Mathonihah shrugged again, “late, maybe midnight.”
Teodoro let out a long sigh and raked his hair with his hands. On the one hand, if he didn’t keep these soldiers alive, he would not get his money and might even get his legs broken by Eros. On the other, he hated to give up his sleep, especially when he had to wake up at the crack of dawn to hand the Americans over to those crazy Al Qaeda people. Why did they care so much anyway if they were healthy or not? They were going to cut off their heads regardless.
“Okay, here’s the key to the gate. You just go in there and give her your medicine, then make sure you lock it up again. I’ll give you part of my money, when I get paid.”
After dinner, Dorian approached me, with a piece of paper in hand. He gave it to me
and walked back to his usual seat on the couch. The paper contained a new picture of Alex. The picture was of a small room, with three soldiers; one of them was a big black guy, with a thick bandage tied around his thigh. The other, a wounded female soldier on the ground and the third was Alex. He was sitting up with his back against the cell wall, his face was turned toward the front and it registered shock, as if he had just seen a ghost. The oddest part was that the drawing was so vivid; I could swear that he was looking right at me!
For some reason, this picture unnerved me. I called Valerie and told her about it, as proof that Alex was still alive. Then I asked Paz to pray with me, and finally, Amor made me some “tea” that she guaranteed would soothe my nerves.
“No valerian root!” I warned.
She smiled, “I’ll give you something else this time. Don’t worry; it will calm you, that’s all.” And it did. I hoped that feeling calm and meditating would help me connect with Alex again, but it didn’t. Instead I tossed and turned and wished I had taken some of that valerian root after all. At some point though, I must have dozed off momentarily, because I woke up startled by the eminent feeling that someone was watching me sleep—again.
My eyes fluttered open and it took them a few minutes to adjust to the moon lit room. I could see the outline of a figure at the foot of my bed—it was a woman’s silhouette—and my heart slowed its pace and I sat up.
“Amor?”
“No…Luz.”
“Luz?” With her hair loose around her shoulders, and in a nightgown, she looked exactly like her sister. And why shouldn’t she, they were identical. “Do you need something?” I asked, raising my pitch, as one does when speaking to a child.
“You need to trust Him.”
“Who? Are you OK, Luz? Should I call Amor?”
“No,” she said, this time her voice sounded more child-like. Then she collected herself somewhat and continued in a grown-up voice. “You need to trust Him, that’s what I was sent to tell you.”