He decided to ask her. “Why is this so hard?”
“It’s not hard,” she said quickly, then paused. “Okay, can we have Min standing by but not networked?”
She was grasping now. Why was she so desperate to leave Min out?
“Fine,” he said, feeling a little angry now. “I’ll call her. We’ll meet at your place.”
“Fine,” she said, also sounding a little angry, and then the line went dead.
He looked at the phone, surprised. Had that been their first fight?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“BASED ON MY interview,” said Min, “soul fragmentation.”
“Self-inflicted?” asked Livvy.
“As far as I can tell.”
Livvy nodded.
The three of them sat in the sedan on the curb. They had left the photographers behind at Livvy’s condo. Nobody waited for them here. Unless the client’s family was holding press conferences where the lightning shaman was mentioned, her schedule wasn’t public knowledge. If any media had followed them, they had probably stopped when Min had taken the exit for Pacoima.
The ride over had been tense. SK must have said something to Min because she had looked between Livvy and SK at least a dozen times in the rearview mirror. For his part, SK had said nothing. He didn’t fiddle with his phone either. He just looked out the window.
“Are we ready?” asked Livvy.
“All ready here,” said Min.
SK opened the car door and got out.
I guess that’s a yes.
She sighed and got out of the car. She knew that she and SK needed to talk but now was not the time. As usual, the needs of the client took priority.
Frankly, she was glad for it. Glad to be working again and glad to be helping somebody.
The front door to the tiny home was already open. A short, slim woman in her mid-forties greeted them in Spanish. “Gracias,” she exclaimed. “Thank you so much for coming.”
Although she tried to smile, her bruised and cracked lower lip made it horrifically lopsided. Livvy immediately reached out her hand. As the woman took it in both of hers, she watched the spark. Livvy gently reached to the side of her face with her other hand.
“Did he do this?” Livvy asked in Spanish.
“He isn’t himself,” pleaded the woman. “He hasn’t slept for three days.” Then she suddenly burst into tears and hugged Livvy, burying her face in Livvy’s coat.
“It’s okay, Rita,” said Livvy. “He’s going to be okay.”
Rita let go of Livvy and backed away from the front door, letting the three of them enter. The front room was immaculate. Heirloom pieces of furniture, arranged so as not to seem crowded, gave the room the feeling of another era. Juan’s brother, seated on the rose-colored sofa, stood awkwardly but nobody else was there. No crowds, no onlookers, no family members. The number of people who were willing to be around Juan had dwindled over time.
A scream came from behind the closed bedroom door in the short hallway. “Stop!” they heard Juan yell. “Stop! I won’t do it.”
Rita suddenly turned a frightened look to Livvy. As she reached out her hand–then quickly drew it back when she realized what she’d done–Livvy realized that Rita wasn’t frightened of Juan. She was afraid Livvy would leave.
“Please,” she said. “He needs you.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Livvy said. “We’re not leaving.”
“He was like this all night too,” said the brother.
Livvy nodded to him. “Wait here with Rita,” she said.
“Leave me alone!” Juan screamed. Something crashed against the door.
Min jumped.
“Are you sure?” the brother asked.
“I’m sure,” said Livvy.
“Rita,” said SK. “Why don’t you let Min take a look at your lip for you.”
Rita nodded as Min gently steered her toward the kitchen.
Livvy approached the bedroom door and knocked lightly.
“Juan, it’s Livvy,” she said. “I’m coming in.”
Livvy felt a slight pressure on her lower back and turned her head. SK was letting her know he was there. Their eyes met and Livvy breathed a sigh of relief despite the situation. He was the intercessor and he was with her. She nodded, turned back to the door and opened it.
• • • • •
Juan had jammed himself into the far corner of the bedroom. He wait on the floor next to a gleaming high top dresser, his knees drawn up to his chest. Like Rita, he was in his mid-forties and slim. He worked odd jobs, handyman, construction, in various parts of the San Fernando Valley while Rita worked as a nanny. She took long bus rides to the neighborhoods where nannies worked.
“Hi, Juan,” Livvy said, as she sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor in front of him.
SK closed the door and stood in front of it. He set the mat and shoulder bag at his feet.
“They keep telling me to hurt people!” Juan screamed as he pressed his fists to his ears.
Juan had heard voices since his late teens. Sometimes they told him he was in danger, or his mother and father were poisoning his food, or his brother was going to knife him in his sleep. When the voices were particularly loud, he would hide in his room for days. Over the years, Carmen had managed to keep him together, at least enough that he could function, but it was becoming more and more difficult.
“I know,” said Livvy, her voice low and non-threatening. “I’m here to help.”
He turned frantic eyes on her and then SK.
“You remember, don’t you Juan?” she said. “We’re here to help.”
The babbling erupted. “Remember! Time! Here, there, the hand, the time, remember.”
This ‘word salad’ had gotten worse over the years. It was as though Juan was growing tired–tired of fighting the voices in his head, tired of having to keep a tight hold on himself in order to get through the day. Just tired.
He banged his forehead on his knees.
“Juan,” said Livvy.
According to Rita, Carmen had thought Juan was the victim of someone’s ill will. It would have been easy to make that mistake. Livvy had worked on that assumption the other time she had seen Juan. She had searched the Multiverse to find who or what might have targeted him. Although she hadn’t found anything, the trip to the Multiverse seemed to have done him some good. That was months ago. Now he was banging his head.
When Rita had begged not to have her appointment canceled, Min had gotten a thorough and detailed patient history from her. Juan’s problem didn’t appear to be anyone’s doing except Juan’s. It was a classic case of soul fragmentation. Livvy hadn’t seen any evidence of the fracturing in her initial visit, but it made sense.
“Juan,” said Livvy, her voice calm and level. “I’m going to touch you.”
He kept banging his head.
Livvy came forward, up on her knees, and slowly stretched out a hand. “Juan,” she said.
Her fingers touched his hair with a small spark and he stopped moving, leaving his head on his knees. “There,” she said. “That’s better.”
Without warning, he raised his head and grabbed her wrist with one hand, the other arm still wrapped around his knees.
“They say to hurt you,” he ground out through his clenched teeth.
Livvy heard SK move behind her.
“It’s okay,” she said quickly, as much to SK as Juan.
He was grabbing her wrist so hard his fingernails had broken the skin.
“It’s okay, Juan,” she said. “I know you don’t want to do that.”
In response, he squeezed harder. Livvy ignored the pain, looked into his eyes, and smiled softly. His eyes went wide as he searched her face.
“No!” he screamed. “I don’t want to hurt anybody.” He flung her wrist aside and put his head back down on his knees.
“Good,” she said, putting her hand back on his head, gently stroking his hair. “I know you don’t want to hurt anybody.” Sh
e moved her fingers further into his hair, massaging.
“We’re going to set up some relaxing candles,” she said quietly, staying in contact with him. “And the incense will help us be calm.”
She heard SK open her bag.
“I don’t want to hurt anybody,” he whimpered. “They tell me to do it.”
“I know,” she whispered, matching his tone.
She moved closer to him and slid her fingers down the back of his neck, massaging, feeling the tension there release. She heard the sound of SK’s lighter, then the sound of the curtains being drawn as the room darkened.
“It’s the voices,” he whispered, barely audible.
“I know,” she said lowly. “We’re going to stop the voices.”
He gave a tiny nod.
“That’s good,” she whispered as she began massaging his shoulders. “That’s good. I know you’re tired." He started to slump a little. “Yes, you’re tired. Very sleepy.”
He slumped to the side and his arms slid down his shins. Livvy could see his face and his eyes were closed.
“It’s okay to lie down,” she whispered as he leaned toward the floor. “I’ve got you, Juan.”
She moved sideways with him as he nearly fell over. She cradled his head in her hands and gently laid it on the floor.
“It’s okay to sleep.”
She smoothed his hair as he lie still, curled on his side, his mouth slack.
“Sleep, Juan. I’ll see you on the flip side.”
When she turned back to SK, her mat was already laid out, parallel to the iron frame of the antique bed. Three purple candles were lit and glowing, each on a small metal dish. A thin stick of incense leaned out over the long wooden tray meant to catch the ash, and a small wisp of smoke rose steadily from it. Livvy quickly crawled over and lay down. The goggles were plugged into the network box on the other side of the mat next to SK. He held them out to her as she leaned back.
“Back in a bit,” she said, taking them.
“I’ll be here,” he said.
• • • • •
In the Middleworld, the clouds above streamed along the dirt path toward the black lake. Livvy immediately headed in that direction. She began at what seemed to her an easy trot but the forest on either side of the path zoomed past, nearly a blur.
A small figure on the beach quickly grew, and in only moments she was standing with Juan. The wind she had created with her high-speed approach ruffled his shirt, and he turned around just as she was coming to a stop. He jumped back.
“Livvy!” he exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”
“From the real world, just like you,” she replied.
“Oh,” he said, as if that explained everything. “How do you move so fast?”
Livvy gave a little shrug, not really sure herself.
“It’s a shaman thing.”
He nodded and seemed about to ask another question when Livvy touched his arm.
“It’s time to find your other selves.”
He switched gears. “Oh, I’ve already started.”
“You…what? You’ve already started?”
“Yes.”
He bobbed his head quickly and pointed across a small looping inlet of the black lake. “But that guy over there won’t let me come near.”
Livvy followed his arm and sighted down it. There, at the edge of the water, stood another Juan. He raised his hand about waist high and waved.
“I tried to walk around the edge,” said the Juan next to her. “But he keeps circling. I swear I’ve been around this lake fifty times.”
Well, he won’t be able to circle away from me.
“Give me your hand,” she said.
No sooner had he placed his hand in hers then she was running at top speed. In what seemed like an instant, they were standing with the other Juan, who jumped back, his identical shirt ruffling in the wind.
“Hi, Juan,” said Livvy and the first Juan in unison.
The second Juan gaped at them both and started to back away.
“No you don’t,” said Livvy.
She easily took him by the upper arm. If she’d wanted, she could have hefted him overhead. It was enough, though, just to keep him from leaving.
“Why don’t you let me come close?” asked the first Juan of the second.
“Why should I?” said the second Juan, pouting.
“Because I’m you!” said the first Juan.
“How was I supposed to know that?” asked the second Juan. “You come running after me all the time!”
Soul fragmentation. Something in the real world had happened to Juan, maybe when he first started showing signs of his condition in his youth. It might have been terrible, or it might have been something that only seemed terrible. It didn’t particularly matter. The real Juan had splintered his spirit, cleaved it off to protect himself, to distance himself from something. Although his crisis may have passed years ago, his soul had remained fractured and, unless somebody did something, it probably always would.
“Okay, you two, enough,” said Livvy, shaking them a bit.
A clap of thunder pealed across the lake and echoed from the mountains. Both Juans ducked their heads. The flashes of lightning within the clouds were reflected in the mirror surface of the lake.
“Great,” said Livvy.
According to her spirit helper, there was at least one more Juan and he was in the Underworld.
“Let’s go,” she said as she strode toward the water.
“Where are we going?” they asked in unison.
“To get in touch with yourself.”
She splashed in, dragging them with her. She drew them close to her but needn’t have as they started to hug her from both sides. Thankfully, before she tripped, they had reached the swirling black waves and submerged.
As a unit, they flew from the fountain into the Underworld. Livvy landed on her feet and gripped them tightly until they could stand on their own.
“Wow,” they said together.
Livvy let them go as they turned to watch the receding inverted funnel of water.
Where’s Mom? Livvy searched in every direction, nearly spinning in place. Oh gods. Has she disappeared?
“What are you looking for?” asked one of the Juans from behind.
“Nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” said the other.
She turned back to them. Even though she knew Juan wouldn’t remember this, she still felt compelled to lie. “I’m looking for you.”
Spurred to action, they began searching in every direction as she had done, which she knew was useless.
Focus. Get this done first, then look for her.
She quickly checked the direction of the clouds. “Okay Juans,” Livvy said, as she took their arms again. “This way.” Unable to keep up with her, Livvy lifted them off the ground as she ran.
The clouds above switched direction several times, navigating her to the third Juan’s location. The skyscrapers of the plaza quickly gave way to shorter business buildings then utility companies, warehouses, and small factories. They were among the oldest buildings in the Underworld–brick buildings with broken windows, most one story tall. Livvy had never been in this section of the Underworld, nor did she care for it. The grime and cracks in the facades made it seem abandoned, a reminder that the living had no place here.
In seconds, they stood in front of one of the crummier places, its painted wooden sign hanging at an angle above the weathered double doors. “Juan’s Boxing” the sign read. The doors creaked inward as the wind of Livvy’s arrival blew past. The clouds above had come to a freeze-frame standstill.
“Boxing,” said the Juans.
Self-defense, thought Livvy.
It made sense, unfortunately. This was where they were going to find the violent Juan, the one who wanted to hurt people. Suddenly, in the silence, a bell that marked the beginning of a round in a boxing match rang out from the interior.
“I
think that’s our cue,” said Livvy, and she pushed them through the door.
• • • • •
I ought to call in Min right now. Have her plug in and make sure everything is all right in the Multiverse.
Then SK looked down at Livvy, lying on her mat.
I ought to but I said I wouldn’t.
SK sat down on the floor next to her. He had checked both her and Juan and then gone around the room and unplugged everything from the wall sockets. He knew Min was outside keeping the family company. He’d told her when he called to bring her goggles and be ready for a Multiverse journey. She hadn’t seemed bothered in the least about Dominique.
“I’ll get to work with Livvy!” she had said, excited.
“More than likely not,” he said, “but I want to be prepared.”
He looked down at the network box with Livvy’s goggles connected. He and Livvy had agreed that she would start out alone and Min would wait in the wings. It’d be up to him to make a judgment call based solely on what he could observe in the real world: respiration, heart rate, and any other signs of stress.
He watched Juan’s even breathing; his eyes were closed as he lay on his side, as if he were simply taking a nap.
There was no reason to send Min into the Multiverse now–no reason he could put his finger on. Only a feeling of unease.
He shifted his legs a little.
He was worried about Dominique, of course, but the real worry came from Livvy. Why the resistance to Min? Why the secret books? Did they have something to do with Dominique?
Livvy’s diaphragm rose and fell easily, and the pulse at her jugular was strong and steady. He looked down her length and stopped at her wrist. Even in the dark, candlelit room, he could make out the bloody fingernail marks that Juan had left.
“Oh Liv,” he murmured.
He looked back at her face, calm and still.
They needed to talk but, despite being up most of the night, he still had no idea what he would say–what he could say. For now, it was sit and watch.
Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3 Page 39