The Sleeping Serpent: A woman's struggle to break an obsessive bond with her yoga master

by Luna Saint Claire

  Leaving the house, Sofia handed Nico the car keys. They put the top down, and she wrapped her head with an Hermès scarf, pulling a black Pashmina around her shoulders and donning her big Chanel sunglasses. They made good time, even with Nico sometimes slowing to look at the homes and ranches. Although the countryside was beautiful, Sofia preferred the beach, comforted by the constant rolling of the waves. Walking together along the beach, Nico would first agonize about the future, laying blame on everyone else for his misfortunes, then moments later boast with complete conviction his certainty of being a celebrity guru, while Sofia assured him he was a gifted healer and that she believed in him.

  Though some areas of Agoura Hills were covered with mini-mansion subdivisions, Claudia and Roberto’s house was modest, sitting on a few acres of land with a barn. When Nico and Sofia arrived, everyone was out on the patio, where his dad manned a large stone fire pit outfitted as a grill. In keeping with Argentine tradition, his dad had prepared a parilla, the traditional Argentine barbeque of assorted meats. Lanterns hung from the trees, creating a festive setting. Relieved to see Claudia was also wearing jeans, Sofia followed her into the kitchen to ask where she should put the gifts.

  “You didn’t need to buy us anything,” Claudia warmly admonished. “We’re glad you and Nico were able to join us. You can put them by the pesebre—the nativity—next to the tree.”

  As she put the packages down, Sofia noticed their tree had cotton balls hanging on it along with traditional ornaments, and wondered about them. Returning to the kitchen, she offered to help Claudia, who just smiled and handed her serving utensils, saying, “If you don’t mind, just set these on the table, and I’ll be outside soon.”

  When dinner was served, and everyone was seated, Roberto placed a huge metal platter of barbequed steak, ribs, and chorizo in the center of the table. On either side, Claudia set down decorative pottery bowls filled with traditional Argentine dipping sauces: chimichurri, a green sauce of olive oil, vinegar, garlic, and herbs; and criolla, a spicy red sauce. Then Claudia held up her glass, “Let’s toast the asador.”

  Sitting next to Sofia was Claudia’s son, Anthony, who was good-natured and quite chatty, asking how she and Nico had met. Without going into too much detail during dinner, she explained, “I had stomach problems, and a friend at work told me about Nico. So I went to him, and with yoga classes, energy healing, and the supplements he made for me, I was cured! That’s something no doctor had ever been able to do.”

  Anthony perked up. “That’s fascinating, Sofia! Being a pharmacist, I’m curious what supplements Nico used. I’ve studied all the traditional supplements, as well as the curative powers of herbs like chamomile and peppermint. Both are good for stomach troubles. Do you know if he used one or both of them?”

  She quickly swallowed a bite of steak. “I don’t know, he doesn’t really tell me the specifics. I just know he said we had to combine the supplements with his energy healing and yoga. He does Kundalini Yoga, you know.”

  Anthony nodded, and she continued, “Oh, and the tea. He makes a special tea that I drink before the energy healing ceremonies.”

  “A tea?” She shook her head, but before she could answer, Roberto led another rousing toast, “Happy Christmas. Feliz Navidad!”

  As the evening air cooled, Sofia pulled her Pashmina tighter around herself as Roberto called jovially, “It’s time for fireworks. They’re set up at the top of the hill, far from the barn.” Winking at Claudia, which Sofia found very endearing, he added, “We wouldn’t want the horses to break their stall doors!” Squealing, the children ran ahead with the dogs running alongside.

  Finding Nico, Sofia tried to take his hand, but he snatched it away. She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why did you wear those fancy boots? You’re struggling to walk up the hill,” he sniffed.

  “I’m not having trouble, Nico. These are short heels. I’m fine.”

  He shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”

  Hoping no one else had heard him, Sofia flushed with embarrassment. Finally at the top, as Roberto launched the fireworks, she reached for Nico’s hand, hoping he wasn’t really that angry with her. But when he pulled away again, she stepped back, signaling her displeasure, too. It had been a beautiful dinner, a wonderful traditional Christmas, with children and dogs and fireworks. Why is Nico such a spoilsport? she wondered. Why did he have to make her miserable—or was it that he just couldn’t enjoy himself?

  Once gathered in the living room, Sofia sat on the floor next to the tree with the children, who eagerly tore the wrapping paper off gifts tagged with their names. While the gifts were passed out, she remembered to ask about the cotton ball ornaments.

  Roberto laughed. “That’s our snow, Sofia.”

  Nico and Sofia were thrilled when they were presented with a case of the ambrosial Malbec they’d had at dinner. Roberto, pleased with the journal, said he would paste his favorite labels in it; and Claudia declared that the little red coin purse was as precious as a piece of jewelry. Except for Nico still giving her the cold shoulder, Sofia felt the reassuring warmth of family. After saying good night and Merry Christmas to everyone, they walked to the car, and Sofia benignly suggested, “Let’s put the top up.”

  “It’s a nice night. I want the wind to keep me awake.”

  Great, she thought, he’s drunk and driving us home. Worried, she offered to drive.

  Gruffly, he replied, “Get in, Sofia. I’m fine.”

  Deciding the air would do her good, too, she wrapped her head in the scarf. They hadn’t gotten far when Nico started in again about her shoes. “You’re such a stupid fashion victim, Sofia. It’s embarrassing to be with you stumbling around like you can’t walk, all because you have to show off your expensive shoes.”

  She countered, “Your jeans cost more than my shoes, and at least I can buy my own stuff!”

  The flash of his eyes told Sofia he wasn’t done yet; he hadn’t even gotten started. “Sofia, I don’t ever want you discussing my business with anyone! Especially not Anthony. He’s a doctor, and it’s not for him to know what I do to cure people. He’ll just steal my ideas. You’re too stupid to see he was pumping you for information. You’re a fool, and you damage my business. It will cost me!”

  Sofia was incredulous. “Seriously, Nico? You think Anthony, a pharmacist, is going to become a yoga teacher and steal all your ideas?”

  Nico tensed and pressed hard on the accelerator. Looking over at her instead of at the road, he screamed, “I’m not just a yoga teacher! You’re a fucking idiot. A moron! I’m a shaman! I know a thousand times more than that idiot you were talking to! So you keep your mouth shut about my business! Do you hear me, Sofia? You’re a fucking asshole!”

  She started to panic. “Nico, look at the road, please! Stop yelling at me and watch the road.”

  He bellowed, “Don’t tell me how to drive, you fucking moron! I know how to drive. I’ll show you how to drive this fucking car. You drive like the fucking pussy you are!” With that, Nico hit the accelerator harder. Sofia bit her lip as the Porsche’s torque surged the car forward, and the speedometer rose to 100, then 110, then 120 miles per hour. Taking the turns on Kanan Dume wildly, Nico barely managed to stay on the road. Still, he kept up his frantic pace, and thankfully, the Porsche held its ground.

  Sofia started crying and implored, “Please, Nico. Please slow down. I promise. I’ll never speak about your business to anyone, ever! Please, please slow down. I’m scared!”

  Ignoring her appeals, he continued accelerating, and Sofia started praying. She prayed that they wouldn’t crash. She prayed they wouldn’t die. She prayed until they had stopped in the driveway at her house. Then she flung her door open and ran up the stairs without saying a word, slamming the door of the bedroom shut. Not knowing whether to be angry or sad, she threw herself on the bed and sobbed. She was just grateful to be alive.

  Nico came in and turned her over to face him. Sitting on top of her to hold her d
own, he snarled, “Stop your crying! Stop being such a baby. I know how to drive a fucking car, Sofia. Nothing was going to happen!”

  Unable to catch her breath between sobs, she replied in a thin and tremulous voice, “You scare me, Nico. I don’t know why you had to do that.”

  He thundered, “I had to prove my point to you, Sofia! You never listen to me—you disrespect me! You damaged my business tonight because you don’t think before you open your stupid mouth!”

  Still trying to catch her breath between sobs, she stammered, “Nico, we could have been killed. You’re crazy. Insane! There was no reason to drive like that!”

  Nico’s eyes were dark. Still pinning her arms down with his legs, he growled, “I had to teach you a lesson, Sofia. You made me very angry, and you embarrassed me. Now apologize.”

  Sofia whispered helplessly through her tears, “I’m sorry that I embarrassed you.”

  Nico shook his head, the darkness on his face growing deeper. “Say it like you mean it, Sofia—and what else?”

  She blinked back tears, her voice catching in her throat, “I am sorry, Nico. I love you. I’m sorry that I spoke about your business to Anthony. I’m very sorry.”

  Slowly, his darkness lifted a tiny bit. He grunted, “OK, that’s better. Don’t let it happen again.” He paused, staring her down. “Now blow me.” Rolling off of her, he commanded, “Kneel on the floor.”

  Still weeping, Sofia complied. Towering arrogantly over her, Nico unzipped his fly, and she saw that the wild ride and fight had excited him; he was hard in anticipation. Unexpectedly, Sofia found she was also aroused. After stepping out of his jeans, he looked down at her darkly, the yellow flecks in his eyes flashing like lighting. Being dominant always made him hornier, and he stroked himself as she licked her lips in anticipation. Placing his hands on each side of her face, he ordered, “Open your mouth.”

  When she parted her lips on command, he pushed into her, sliding his cock along her tongue. As Sofia wrapped her mouth around his stiff shaft, his eyes glazed over. Sucking hard, she ensured he was very wet with saliva before taking hold of him to slide her wet palms over the throbbing head. Rocking his hips and fucking her mouth, he gathered fistfuls of her hair, moaning deeply and plunging punishingly into the back of her throat. Lost in rapturous ecstasy, he didn’t speak, just pumped swiftly, only stopping his relentless thrusts long enough for her to stroke the length of him and sweep her tongue around the tip. Holding her head to him, he pumped his hips to meet her mouth as she deep throated him, milking the base of his cock with her hand and sucking him mightily. Making sure her fingers were very wet, she slid a finger to his anus, pressing along the opening. Nico released a guttural groan in anticipation. As if spellbound, he made low growling noises when Sofia explored the opening of his anus. Feeling himself hitting the back of her throat, combined with her patient massaging inside him, he became even more aroused, swearing, “Goddamnit, Sofia. You make me crazy.”

  Unable to move, she moaned so he would feel the vibration at the back of her throat. He yanked her hair until her scalp stung, but she could feel him twitching and knew he was ready to erupt. To heighten his pleasure, she slid her finger slowly in and out of his anus, fucking him until he ejected hot semen down her throat. She took it all, swallowing each burst as he kept coming while he forcefully held her to his groin. When he released her, she licked every remaining drop, telling him how beautiful he was—how much she loved him—and how much she loved the sweet taste of his cum.

  12

  Luna felt at home the moment the plane landed in Albuquerque. No matter how often they drove to Santa Fe along the Turquoise Trail, it was always clear to her why New Mexico is called the Land of Enchantment. The snow-covered mountains in the distance were framed by deep red and terracotta colors, accented with green sagebrush against the turquoise sky. In the spring, the crisp air carried the fragrant scent of the ubiquitous lilacs and blooming irises, like the ones painted by Georgia O’Keefe. Now, autumn’s light saturated the colors of the cottonwood trees emblazoned in yellow leaves, providing a stark contrast against the cloudless cerulean sky. With native ceremonies and the scent of burning piñon permeating the air, Christmastime was special.

  While Tyler was driving, Luna read another diatribe from Sofia about Nico. It was obvious to Luna that she was the only one Sofia could talk to about him—the only one who wouldn’t tell her she was crazy—because she loved him, too. Secretly, Luna treasured Sofia’s e-mails, which were more like journal entries or confessions. They had become her vicarious connection to Nico. Between his booming business and Sofia monopolizing his time, Luna now only heard from him when he needed something from her.

  He had awakened something in her. It wasn’t as if she had been unhappy, but rather confined, like never having colored outside the lines. She loved Tyler. He was the perfect husband…and he allowed her to be herself. But Nico was exciting, an adventure, even a bit dangerous. He made her feel more alive and like anything was possible. Rereading Sofia’s dismal letter full of complaints about him made Luna miss him more. Gazing out her window, the red layers of the sheared rock cliffs blurred through her tears. Calling him now in front of Tyler was out of the question, but not because she couldn’t. It was that she knew Tyler would feel hurt—dismissed.

  Feeling a hot plume of butterflies erupting in her belly, she gripped the phone tightly in her hands, wishing he would call. When it didn’t ring, she shut her eyes, hoping to suppress the fire that consumed her. Shoving the phone into her tote bag, she heard that song she’d put on her playlist by Avril Lavigne, “Anything but Ordinary,” playing in her head.

  Grateful for their arrival in Santa Fe, Luna pulled herself out of her compulsive thoughts. The cute B&B where they were staying was just off the Plaza. A kiva fireplace in the room added to the romantic atmosphere. She intended for this time alone with Tyler, away from their daily routines, to ignite some passion in their relationship and hopefully dampen her obsession with Nico. Luna quickly unpacked while Tyler lit a fire, filling the room with the exotic aroma of piñon. Already feeling the drop in temperature at the 7,000-foot elevation, Luna changed into leggings and a cashmere turtleneck, along with her favorite suede jacket. Pulling on tall, dark brown, distressed leather cowboy boots with cream colored embroidery, she felt ready to dance at El Farol, where they traditionally dined their first night in Santa Fe. After they enjoyed a selection of tapas and a bottle of hearty red wine, Tyler allowed Luna to get him onto the tiny, packed dance floor. With her arms wrapped around his neck, any sadness and longing she held dissipated with the movement of their hips to the spicy salsa rhythm, both laughing when they attempted to follow the merengue danced by the locals.

  Christmas morning, Luna woke up thinking about Nico and Sofia. She was happy they were going to his father’s, and would be with family. After breakfast at Pasquals, she and Tyler purchased several gifts from the Native artists who sold their wares under the portal at the Palace of the Governors. Christmastime was magical, filled with sacred animal dances and a torchlight procession of the Virgin at Taos Pueblo, followed by the customary matachina, a colorful dance in elaborate costumes that had been introduced to the area by Spanish missionaries.

  When Luna called Nico to wish him a Merry Christmas, he seemed cheerful. Yet he didn’t want her to hang up.

  “Wait, Luna…” he interjected.

  “Are you OK?” she asked.

  “Yes, it’s just…you know how Claudia and I don’t get along. She doesn’t like me.”

  “I know,” Luna sighed. “But Sofia will be there. Just be nice.” It was her way of telling him not to start a fight.

  “I guess so,” he muttered. His silence hung in the air. Feeling connected to him, she didn’t want to hang up either, and just listened to him breathing softly. “How is Santa Fe?” he finally asked.

  When Luna told him about the sacred dances, he perked up. “Text me pictures, please.”

  “We’re not allowed to take pict
ures, but there are some cool pictures online. I’ll show you when I get back.” She noticed Tyler signaling her. “Nico, don’t you have to leave?”

  “Yeah, I guess…”

  “Have a good time, honey…Merry Christmas.” She waited for him to hang up first. He didn’t like it the other way around. When he didn’t, she added, “I love you.”

  Making the mmmmwhaa sound for blowing kisses, he replied, “I love you, too.” After hanging up, she sat on the bench in the Plaza, teary eyed. Something about Nico physically tugged at her heart.

  A few days after Christmas, Luna received another e-mail from Sofia:

  Dear Luna,

  I am accepting that I cannot change him, and neither can you. I am having the most difficult time facing the fact that I love someone who takes love for granted. HE IS ABUSIVE! He will do anything to get what he wants. He blew up at me on Christmas Day because I talked to Claudia’s son, then he nearly killed us on the drive home in my car. He drove over 100 mph all the way and I was crying, begging him to slow down. When he acts like this it scares me! But I LOVE HIM SO MUCH! I don’t want him to be alone.

  Sorry to bother you on your vacation. I just needed to tell you what happened.

  xoxo Sofia

  Walking up Old Santa Fe Trail, Luna stopped to admire inlaid pocketknives in a shop window. She thought they were like jewelry. Nico would love one, and it would be something he would have forever. Inside the shop, she inquired about the blade. It was not shiny silver, but dark grey with swirls in it. The shop owner told her it was hand-forged Damascus steel, which she thought was very unique and exotic—kind of like Nico. Deciding right away to get him one, she first had to choose from a myriad of inlay combinations. She loved turquoise, but it didn’t have the right look and feel. Nico was darker. Finally, she picked out a knife that was black jet, a gemstone derived from decaying wood under extreme pressure, with Apache Gold cabochon, a combination of steatite and golden pyrite. The gold flecks reminded her of the yellow flecks in Nico’s eyes. After paying the shopkeeper, she tucked the little box into the zippered compartment of her handbag.