Redemption's Warrior

by Jennifer Morse

  He grins at her. “You have to surrender into the sweat. It’s a different mind-set. Most girls try to avoid sweating.”

  Juanita giggles, “When do I get to hit you?”

  Christopher laughs with her.

  “Okay, it’s my turn,” Juanita says excitement lighting her eyes.

  “What will we do exactly?” he asks.

  Juanita frowns, “it’s kind of hard to explain. I’m going to take us through to the opposite side of time; day is night and night is day.”

  Christopher shakes his head, “What?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  Juanita shrugs, “maybe a little.”

  “I trust you with my life.”

  “Well then,” Juanita smiles. “Let’s sit here. Do not move from this spot.” She squeezes his hands, “If you move around I may not be able to bring you back.”

  Juanita unconsciously bites her fingernail.

  Christopher nods.

  She takes a deep breath, exhaling and shaking out her hands.

  “Should I copy everything you do?” asks Christopher.

  Juanita gives him a playful punch. “Breathe in and breathe out, just like we did in your martial arts lesson. Juanita reaches down to her side where she carries a bulky woven bag made from thick fibers of alpaca wool. The natural colors vary from cream to stone to brown. A hint of sage and rosemary drifts toward him when she opens the bag.

  Pulling out four rocks she places a stone in each direction. In the south she places a red rock. She explains this is a sacred circle. “Some healers open their circle in the east. La Currandera opens a ceremonial circle in the south, a place of trust and innocence. Following clockwise we arrive in the west.”

  She places a black rock, shiny and lined with striations, in the west. Smiling at Christopher she says, “West the place of setting sun. Some say death and transformation, even perfection or ecstasy live in the west.” A white stone follows in the north and then a yellow stone in the east. When she has all the stones in place Juanita begins a prayer; part song, part chant. She places different objects from her bag around the circle. Christopher can feel power building around them. The air is sticky yet weightless.

  Juanita’s voice has become a singsong prayer and he falls into the rhythm and tone. Incandescent beams of violet, gold and green flash then disappear. The air feels feathery against his skin. Juanita’s glows a nimbus of light surrounding her. Christopher floats. I hear a song alive in her words. His muscles unwind. He falls into her instructions, wrapped like a package in the depth of her intonations and cadence. Now her voice travels across a distance. “In your mind’s eye, see us standing on this cliff. The sun shines. Feel the warmth on your skin, the gusting wind. It fills us with pinpoints of light. Standing together, holding hands, we are dissolving into pinpoints of light.”

  Her directions reverberate in his body. Releasing his past, he moves beyond the shell of circumstances known as the story of his life. In Juanita’s lilt, inflection and rhythm, everything has transformed into dancing bits of light.

  Eventually she says, “Can you see the horizon, the place where the earth and sky meet? It’s particles of light. We are particles of light. Now, with me, slip into the opening, the horizon where earth and sky are one.

  On a sigh, Christopher slips through the opening. He floats through pinpoints of light. Ahead he perceives Juanita’s light body. He follows her moving beyond the edges where the earth and sky meet. He opens his eyes. They are sitting on a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean surrounded by dark night and millions of sparkling stars.

  The air leaves his diaphragm in a “whoosh” of combined terror and disbelief. “This place?” he asks, “a shared dream? Does it really exist?” He’s starting to hyperventilate. “I don’t know if I’m more scared this place might be real or a hallucination.”

  Juanita takes Christopher’s face in her hands. “Hey, hey, we are here together in a sacred dimension. Remember to breathe. I’ll count, six count inhales and six count exhale.” She holds onto Christopher’s hands while they breathe.

  Once centered Juanita laughs saying, “Look at the efforts I make to spend a night with you.”

  Enchanted and dazzled Christopher asks, “Am I breathing in starlight?” Beside him Juanita starts to hum, adding, “Yes, very good Christopher. Breathe deeply the starlight. Ask for a visitation. Tonight we seek Star Woman, an ancient power, carrying the void before time as we know it.”

  As she speaks an explosion of light bursts from her chest. So bright, so vast, it blinds him.

  She cries out, anguished, collapsing at his side.

  He yells, “Oh my God! Juanita! What happened?”

  Juanita’s lifeless body drapes across his lap. “No!” he shouts. Cradling her, rocking, shielding her from the cold, “No! You cannot have her!”

  He wants to get up and run for help yet he’s glued to this spot. Panic crushes him. Where do I get help in this place? He has no idea how to save her.

  • • •

  Solar winds buffet him. Stars stream by. He loses himself in the eternity. The weight of Juanita’s body pulls him back. How long have I sat here? How much time do I have?

  Incomprehensible to live a life without Juanita, inside him a primordial scream gathers. He reaches out to the line where earth and sky meet. He pulls together, into his belly, the power of breaking dawn and twilight. With supernatural strength he calls on the powers of the four directions. He wraps himself in the planetary winds and bellows, “Juanita! Come back to me!”

  The roar echoes through him. Waves, pinpoints of light, stream over and around him. They coalesce, past starlight, at the edge of existence. He bends over Juanita pulling her to his heart.

  Looking up he’s alarmed to find a gigantic face filled with stars staring at him. An eye blinks. The face transforms into a woman, a woman standing within a universe of stars. Pointing her finger at Juanita, she asks Christopher, “Why did this woman bring you here?”

  Heart pounding, he can barely speak. “I don’t know.”

  Rocking Juanita in his arms, looking into the woman’s eyes filled with star shine, he swallows hard. “For generations before and eons after, in the stillness of a new day, in the night’s starry skies, I will love her.”

  Star Woman’s image imprints deep within his cerebral cortex. “Please help me,” he begs. Personifying lunar darkness, turning it inside out, Star Woman speaks. Through her celestial winds birthing the Milky Way, in the pulse of solar systems, in the beginning and end of time, she is infinite and eternal. Her eye falls on Christopher filling him with despair. How will Sovereign Life find importance in the infinitesimally small… me? We are irrelevant…

  Her voice is the explosion of stars splashing across the galactic sky. Shaking uncontrollably Christopher slips into her primordial pulse, oscillating. Negativity, unresolved bits and pieces of his consciousness flee within her vibratory disposition. He is one, with the totality, the sublime beauty of existence. In the cosmic melody of Star Woman he feels peace.

  She calls on him. “Welcome, Redemption’s Warrior.”

  He breathes starlight. “Star woman. Please help me.”

  Stars outline her face layer upon layer of starlight creased and folded giving her form. “Very good. You are willing to ask for help. Most humans … forget… to ask for help.”

  She gathers a cosmic breath and blows it over Christopher who still holds Juanita in his arms. His insides turn to water as Juanita wakens. Her chest, rising and falling, stars spinning, the universe expanding. He can feel Juanita’s heart, beating at one synchronized with his heart. Star Woman’s face fills the edges of the universe. She exhales transcendence. A heavenly voice embodies the union of opposites. “When two hearts, in their innermost heart beat as one, then all of time stands still and bows before them. This is the power of love. Never forget it.”

  She evaporates. Christopher’s head drops forward, bowed over Juanita, he we
eps.

  • • •

  When Christopher next opens his eyes they are sitting on the cliff looking over the ocean. The sun beats warming their skin. He sees the ocean with new eyes. In the union of sun and water, the refractory power creates miniature diamonds. Shining stars in the depths of the ocean, born of sun and water. He thinks I can almost see Star Woman’s face.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  Juanita shakes her head and her voice trembles. “Honestly Christopher I don’t know. I was trying to introduce you to Star Woman, but I had one experience and you had another. Both were tests I didn’t anticipate.” On a soft moan, “What will La Currandera say?”

  She reaches for Christopher’s canteen of Islas Tres Maria’s spring water. Taking a long drink she hands the container to him. “La Currandera would tell me ‘all is well that ends well.’” She shakes her head. “I’ve been taught to do better. I’ve been taught the importance of holding ceremonial space.”

  Christopher drinks. Cool water soothes his throat. Every part of him is parched, dusty with the solar winds of creation. I feel charred by starlight. Who would believe me if I told them this story? The answer instantaneously is Juanita.

  Now they are back safely on the cliff they move to sit under the shade of the banana trees. He asks, “What do you mean hold ceremonial space?”

  Juanita sighs, “When we journey with cosmic elements we can fall apart. Oh I don’t know how to say it. Let me see… it was my job to hold the intention so clearly that we would only stay right in that spot. Instead I was pulled to a different place.”

  Already Christopher’s memories are starting to disintegrate. What did Star Woman say at the end? When two hearts beat as one time stands still… This the power of love. Never forget.

  Pealing a banana that has fallen, amazingly at her feet, Juanita breaks off half and hands it to him. “Tell me everything you remember,” she says around a mouth full of banana.

  Wiping his mouth after another long drink of water Christopher says, “It’s hard to remember exactly. One part I’ll never forget. You died. I called for you. A woman made of starlight told me, ‘When two hearts beat as one, the power of love… All life stands still. Never forget.’”

  Juanita nodded. “I could hear her. I heard her say, ‘Never forget the power of love, the power of two hearts joined in love.’”

  Drawing a shaky breath he laughs, “She told me never forget but already I can’t remember exactly what happened.”

  Putting a reassuring hand on his arm, Juanita nods. “That’s how it works, Christopher. La Currandera says when you are in a ‘ceremonial altered state,’ you might call it a meditative state. Like when you told me of your journey to collect the pieces of yourself broken off in trauma.” She grimaces, “after you were dumped here on Islas Tres Marias. Wait. Let me start over.”

  Christopher nods and Juanita continues. “When you are in ordinary waking state you remember the facts, the rules, of the physical world.” Frustrated Juanita tugs on her hair curling at her shoulders. She says, “It’s so hard to explain!”

  She puts her hands in front of her, each one cupped and says, “In one hand lives the ordinary world and its rules; in the other hand lives dreaming or ceremony or prayer. When you are in either world it’s difficult to remember the other world.”

  Christopher nods in understanding. “Yes, that’s a great explanation. I understand what you’re saying. But,” he swallows hard. “What happened to you? Juanita I thought you were dead.”

  He reaches for her hand. It’s Juanita’s turn to laugh shakily. “I think I did die in a way, Christopher. I had no idea this could happen. While my ‘dream body’ was with you my ‘light body’ went somewhere else.”

  “You’re talking in riddles, ‘dream body, light body!’ Just tell me what happened!”

  Paling slightly Juanita says, “Suddenly I was with an aboriginal man. His face and body were painted white with dots and spirals. He had a stick, like a wizard’s wand, and he carved me open like a surgeon with a scalpel.”

  “He said,” Juanita’s eyebrows pinch, frowning. She reaches into her memory for the exact words. “He said I had to die and be reborn in love.

  “While you struggled, he planted inside me crystals glowing with starlight. He called them, ‘earth stars.’ I could see you and I watched him. I was in both places at once. La Currandera calls this double dreaming.”

  Her tears start to flow and Christopher is helpless. He pulls her to him, “Shhh,” he whispers. “We are okay now. You’re okay.”

  Juanita shakes. “He told me that if you could not find the power to call me back, transform your heart and open to love, then I would die. I would exist only in my ‘light body.’ He used his stick to fuse me back together.”

  Juanita pulls up her top and looks at her stomach. Down the center of her midline a radiant white light, shines like a scar. Her eyes widen when she looks up at Christopher. Simultaneously they say, “Wow!”

  Juanita continues, “I heard you call me.” She grabs his hand and squeezes. “Wait I almost forgot. He gave me a message for you.”

  Juanita reaches for the water bottle. She takes a long drink and then continues. “He said, ‘Redemption’s Warrior, your journey of redemption, beyond this island, is to re-make your world.’ He gave me this to give you.”

  Juanita holds up her hand. Peaking over her shoulder, watching with interest, Christopher can see Juanita’s white swan. Slowly Juanita uncurls her free hand. A flash of brilliant blue, as deep as the ocean surrounds them and Christopher sees the pulsing florescent blue of his dragonfly. It flies into his heart. Christopher is pulsing with blue light, filling him with wonder, an internal earthquake shakes. Toxicity, all of the anger he’s felt each day of his imprisonment, falls away, freeing him.

  Smiling Juanita says, “He told me to tell you ‘follow your dragonfly home.’”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FROM FAMINE TO FEAST

  When El Jefe calls Fat Luis into his private study Fat Luis cannot help but gawk. Dark woods, hand loomed silk rugs, and crystal decanters filled with liqueurs on a massive antique sideboard just the beginning. Although second in command Fat Luis has never been invited to one of the many parties held in the hacienda.

  Saltillo tiles, chandeliers, velvet sofas and oversized chairs stuffed with down feathers create an inviting atmosphere. Luis can imagine the harvest dining table groaning with food. Just thinking about it makes his mouth water.

  The hacienda is the only air conditioned building on the island. Even the hospital utilizes ceiling fans. The library is cool and fresh. Fat Luis is sweaty and self- conscious. El Jefe stares at him.

  Did I sigh out loud? Clearing his throat he says, “You called for me El Jefe?”

  Chewing on his hand rolled cigar El Jefe appraises Fat Luis. He ignores the man’s efforts to gather his wits, probably a necessary evil after rushing over to the compound. Placing his cigar on a crystal ashtray he takes note of the jam stain on the front Fat Luis’s shirt. He says, “I’ve heard the gringo prisoner cooks a good barbeque.”

  “Yes, El Jefe. He barbeques chickens he has raised.” Luis mouth is watering just thinking of Christopher’s barbeque sauce. “He uses chilies, tomatoes, and onions grown in his small garden.” He drops into reverie imagining one of Christopher’s chickens all for himself.

  El Jefe’s voice pulls him out of his food trance.

  “I need you to supervise the purchase of fresh fish from one of the fisherman outside the mile perimeter.” Picking up his cigar rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, he continues, “In the past your fish selection has been… lacking. I’ve heard the gringo is a good cook.” His fingers tap out his impatience on the walnut stained desk. “Before the fishermen turn back at sunset I want you to take the launch, with this gringo and have him select from their catch. Instruct him to barbeque the fish and bring it to the hacienda before eight o’clock. Tonight Carmen and I will have a dinner party.”
r />   Chewing the cigar, he asks, “How long have you known about the gringo’s chicken farm?”

  Fat Luis sweats in silence. To say he’s known all along will sound like he gave permission. To say he only discovered recently will reveal his ignorance. El Jefe waves him away. “Never mind, it’s harmless. Go get dinero from the controller. An envelope waits for you.”

  As another afterthought he adds “Do not negotiate with the fisherman.” He taps his forefinger on the desk. “Give him one offer. If he does not accept he will never fish off our islands again.”

  As Fat Luis exits the hacienda, Jacinto lights his cigar blowing smoke toward the ceiling. His eyes are flat. Every encounter he perceives a potential challenge to his authority. Even the smallest battles must be conquered.

  Luis lumbers into the jeep. After picking up dinero he orders his driver to search of the gringo. His driver navigates the jeep down to the dock. He says, “When the putas visit the gringo can be found on the cliff with the Captain’s daughter.”

  Fat Luis snaps his fingers for the binoculars. He observes Christopher and Juanita sitting side by side. He asks, “Is that all they do? They just sit and talk?”

  “Yes.”

  “El Jefe has a soft spot for his niece. Why else would he let her talk with the gringo?” Still looking, Fat Luis sees Juanita vanish. He mumbles, “What happened?”

  He lowers the glasses and carefully cleans the lens. He hands the binoculars to the driver. “Are they still there?”

  Confused the man looks at him but takes the binoculars. Looking at Juanita and Christopher, Fat Luis plays a trick on me?

  Handing back the glasses he says, “Yes, they are sitting on the cliff.” Looking again Fat Luis sees they have moved to sit beneath the banana trees. Christopher seems to be comforting Juanita and even hugs her. A blast of brilliant blue surrounds the couple. Once again he lowers the binoculars and cleans the lens.