Skyclad

by Max Ellendale

  "Who's going to watch the front?"

  "The chime." She nodded for me to follow and I did.

  Mae led me past the door I saw yesterday into a darker part of the building. A storeroom door hung open to the right revealing a space littered with unopened boxes. We entered the room across from it. The dim lighting set heavy shadows along a deep blue sofa. In similar fashion to the rest of the store, tapestries adorned the walls though the ones in this room were a mix of pentagrams, Celtic knots, and tie-dye. Plush pillows coated the floor against one wall beside a tall lamp covered with a reddish scarf. Glass balls of all sizes dangled from braided cords mounted to the ceiling. I had walked into a cozy gypsy nest.

  "What's this room used for?" I asked as Mae struck a match and lit a row of candles along the windowsill.

  "For me," she said. "Pick your poison." She gestured toward the couch and pillows.

  "Do you own the shop?" I asked, taking a seat on the sofa and setting the notebook in my lap.

  "Yeah. Sometimes I think it owns me though." She dropped down to sit cross-legged on a fluffy pillow, tucking her feet beneath her skirt. I opened my mouth to ask what she meant but the jingling chime pulled my attention.

  "Oy! Mae!" A husky female voice called out.

  "Back here, Liz," Mae shouted in return, glancing to the door then back to me.

  "I've got a bone to pick with you, ay." The tiny woman appeared in the doorway. Her thick Australian accent superseded her mere presence. Clad in simple jeans and a sweatshirt, the woman named Liz stepped into the room. "Well 'ello there. Who's this, 'ere, Meadow?" She glanced to Mae.

  "This is Ella. Liz is one of our intuitives," Mae explained.

  "Lovely to meet you, lass." Liz offered me a toothy grin. "Meadow here treating you well?"

  "You're name's Meadow?" I glanced to Mae with a raised brow.

  "My parents are hippies." A light smile curved her pink lips.

  "Hippies is an understatement, Meadow Breeze. An' ya think she'd tell 'er customers her real name." Liz cackled, jamming a thumb in Mae's direction as she left the room. "Imagine that."

  "Sorry about that. She's a bit out on the piss this morning." Mae cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted the latter part down the hall. Liz cackled again before a door thudded shut.

  "On the piss?" I lifted a brow at her, stifling a chuckle.

  "Drunk. She says she gives her best readings piss faced. Who am I to judge?" Mae laughed, leaning back on her elbows. Her skirt lay heavily against her form, casting gentle waves about her curves.

  "Is your name really Meadow Breeze?"

  "Yeah. My parents are legitimate hippies. They met at Woodstock and they've been smoking reefer all around the country ever since. They've settled in California now though. Happily in their 60s, living the life."

  "What was that like for you growing up?" I asked.

  "Fine except I didn't get to go to a normal school and we never stayed in one place long enough to make friends. I guess it's why I've stayed here for so long." She shrugged, folding her hands on her stomach. "What about you?"

  "My parents weren't hippies." A hot wave of emotion heated my cheeks. I hadn't expected the return question at all. Which, in hindsight, was pretty naive. I hadn't thought about my birth parents in years, if I could help it anyway. I gripped the notebook in my lap when my palms began to sweat.

  "Were they super smart professors like you?" Her question seemed playful and I wondered if my sudden upset tipped her off. Maybe she really could see auras.

  "No. I never met my birth mother." I figured I would lead off with the truth.

  "Oh. I'm sorry."

  "It's all right.

  "Your father raised you?" She sat up now, resting her elbows on her knees.

  "I was raised… in a community." I shook my head, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear in effort to distract myself. "I um…don't really talk about it. There's no reason to."

  "We don't have to. Besides, everyone should be here soon."

  "What? Everyone?" My voice sounded higher pitched than I intended.

  "Drumming circle. You wanted to learn about Wicca. I'm going to teach you about Wicca the way I was taught." Mae pushed herself up to stand. "C'mon. Leave the notebook here."

  "I... um… Do us… I don't…"

  "Don't think so much. C'mon." Mae waved for me to follow her. Reluctantly, I set my notes and purse down and followed.

  Liz ushered in a group of five women as Mae and I entered the front room. Each of them carried a drum or bongo. Three men ducked inside just as she turned the "closed" sign over.

  "What are we supposed to be doing?" A fresh ripple of anxiety swirled in my stomach.

  "Drumming. Don't worry," Mae said as booming tones greeted her. Cheerful voices, endless hugs, and cheek kisses filled the room with a jovial energy that had me relaxing some.

  "Everyone, this is Ella. She's joining us for the first time," Mae said after they settled down.

  "Demetri," said the blond man, extending his hand, which I shook.

  "Nice to meet you all," I said, after being introduced to a string of unique names. Andromeda, Jayna, Sarai, Opal, and Raven made up the women. Demetri, Marlow, and Kane completed the men in the group. I couldn't help wondering if most of them had made up their names themselves. All of the entrants appeared within the same age range of late-twenties to mid-thirties.

  "Oy, let's get on with it, Mae." Liz tossed pillows around the floor before plopping down on one with a small drum in her lap.

  "Who invited your negativity, Lizzie?" the woman called Opal jested as she sat beside Liz.

  "Sit next to me, Ella." Mae gestured to the spot beside her. She sat cross-legged and I mimicked her posture.

  "What should I do?" I muttered.

  "Nothing. Just relax." Mae smiled, her grayish eyes twinkling until she drew her attention to the others. "Let's set the intention today for healing our hearts and relaxation."

  "Sounds good." Demetri set the bongos between his knees. Some of the others nodded while they positioned their drums.

  "Oy, Mae. Are ya loosin' it, ay? Set the circle first." Liz gestured around us.

  "I think you need to change your name to 'Oy Mae' instead of just Mae," said Opal as she elbowed Liz.

  "You do it, then, Liz. You know how," said Mae, her tone even, though a light pinkish flush tinged her cheeks.

  "The newbie has her ready for a kip," Liz muttered to Opal as she stood. A few people who heard her chuckled or snorted.

  "What's that mean?" I whispered to Mae.

  "She's just teasing me." Mae nodded toward Liz. "She's casting a sacred circle around us for protection. Three times about." She waved her finger in the air three times clockwise. "She'll use an athame to direct her energy."

  I watched as Liz cast the circle how Mae described. Most of the others in the room closed their eyes as they focused on the ritual. Part of me felt awkwardly out of place, like a voyeur to something private. Another part found intrigue over the rite and the practice. Liz held the small double-bladed dagger and walked around the seated people three times. At the close of her final lap, a light comforting warmth pressed in on me, soothing my worries over being an outsider. She muttered something that I couldn't make out before rejoining the circle.

  "Demi, why don't you begin today?" Mae nodded to the man and he began to drum.

  A lone thrum rattled my brain at first. It wasn't soothing in the least. Jumpiness had me tense and I gripped the hem of my jeans in effort to remain calm. A few beats later, another drum joined. The bass-heavy pounding brought the sound down an octave. The others joined, one by one until they formed a rhythm that pounded in my ears and chest. People around me calmed, leaning into the comfort of the drums. Mae, at ease beside me, sat cross-legged, palms facing up in her lap.

  The drumbeat unsettled me, unearthing something deep inside me hidden away and sealed tight. Emotions I worked hard to keep in containment. Hot, prickly tears pressed against my eyelids. I
shouldn't get this upset over nothing. Nothing except the sound of drums. In a room full of strangers banging on stretched hides, my nerves got the better of me. I didn't want them to see me upset. I dropped my head into my hands and let the feelings roll silently through me. Was I sad? Angry? Hurt? It seemed like hurt. Visions of my former life flashed through my mind’s eye.

  I gasped when something brushed my shoulder, trying desperately not to cringe as the sensation moved toward my back. Mae's fingers clasped my wrist and, as I looked up, she moved in front of me. Our gazes met and her lips said, "It's okay," though I couldn't hear her over the drums. I shook my head and held my breath, hoping the emotions would stop on their own.

  Mae pulled me toward her, tucking me close to her body as she stroked my hair. Her free hand settled on my knee and we remained this way while the others drummed. I didn't stop her. Her gentle fingers tickled the hairline under my ponytail, sending soft, soothing shivers down my spine.

  Minutes passed though it seemed like hours. Eventually, the drumming subsided. Mae stood, tugging me by the elbows to join her before ushering me from the room. Away from the others, I calmed down a bit and swiped at my eyes. We returned to the room with the sofa and I snatched my belongings from it.

  "I have to go," I croaked.

  "Just wait for a minute." Mae stepped in front of me when I made for the door. "What happened?"

  "Nothing. I need to go. I'm sorry," I said, avoiding her gaze as I regained my composure.

  "Ella…"

  "I need to—"

  "Please? I can't let you leave this upset."

  "I'm fine."

  "You're not."

  "I am."

  "Ella," she said, closing the door when footsteps entered the hall. "Sometimes drumming circles can bring things up for people—"

  "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

  "I didn't think it would upset you. I'm sorry. Just… just sit for a minute and breathe." She gestured toward the sofa.

  "I am breathing."

  "Yeah, but way too fast. C'mon." She guided me by the elbow and, for no other reason than to avoid seeing the others, I sat down.

  Mae joined me, her eyes never leaving me as I focused heavily on the curl of the notebook paper in my lap.

  "I don't like getting upset in front of strangers," I said after a few minutes.

  "I'm a stranger."

  "Large groups of strangers." I wiped the last of my tears and sighed. "Sorry."

  "Don't be. What bothered you?" Mae tilted her head as she watched me, ginger tendrils tumbling over her shoulder.

  "I don't know. I just thought things I try not to think about." I shook my head. "I really should go."

  "Okay," she said, her lips pursed. "Can I call you to check on you at least?"

  "Yeah. All right, I guess." I stood, tossing my bag over my shoulder. I scribbled my number down on a piece of paper that Mae handed me and gave it back to her.

  "I'll walk you out—"

  "No, it's okay. I'll… I'll talk to you later." I glanced in her direction before making a beeline to the door.

  Chapter Three

  "Final exams are just six weeks away. I haven't decided yet on a paper versus a test. It depends on my mood of the moment," I said as I passed back last week's assignment to the class.

  "C'mon, Professor F. Can't it be a take-home?" Simon whined.

  "A paper is considered a take-home in my humble opinion." I shrugged which caused the class to groan. "A paper it is then, a nice ten-pager. Unless any of you would prefer to be the spokesperson rather than Simon."

  "Professor?" Jaeyon raised her hand.

  "Yes, Jaeyon, go ahead." I gestured in her direction.

  "If it has to be a paper, can it be five pages instead with an annotated bibliography?"

  "I'll consider it."

  "Thanks, Professor." Jaeyon returned to scribbling notes.

  "Suck up," Simon muttered.

  "Oh grow up, Simon. This isn't high school. You make everything worse for us," erupted Eleanor, the former quietest student in the class. "What if she already thought of giving us a take-home test? Your whining ruined it."

  "How do you know what she's thinking?" Simon scoffed.

  "It's in her rubric if you cared to read it. It says one, just one exam would be take-home. We've got only six weeks left and haven't even had an exam yet! Just think for once." Eleanor turned her back on Simon, red-faced under a mess of blonde curls. She glanced at me and muttered, "Sorry."

  "Don't be. You're right." I returned to the front of the classroom, perching myself on the edge of the desk as thirty dumbfounded faces stared at me. "Eleanor raises a good point. Why is that?"

  "Because Simon's a douche," called a male voice from the back of the room. The class laughed and Simon glanced over his shoulder but I couldn't pinpoint who said it.

  "Despite Simon's nature," I lifted my voice above the commotion and the class settled. "Why is Eleanor's outburst poignant?"

  "She's smart?" A husky voice belonging to Eric called out.

  "Indeed. But why should we consider what she said?"

  "Because…" said the thoughtful voice of Pierce, whose slight body barely filled his chair." The culture of this class is that Simon is a clown. Everyone's gone on all semester tolerating it. Eleanor made a stand that she won't anymore."

  "Which does what?" I glanced around the room.

  "Increases the chance that the rest of us will speak up and, if he responds, change the culture of the classroom. Simon will either conform or leave." Jaeyon beamed, glancing at Simon now.

  "What are your thoughts on this, Simon? You've gone quiet," I said, fighting the smirk that tugged at the corner of my mouth.

  "I don't like that you've made an example out of me, Professor," he said, lifting his gaze to me briefly.

  "So what are you going to do about it?" I crossed my arms, lifting a single brow at him.

  "Write a paper," he muttered, then sat up suddenly. "Or… take an open book test in my dorm room during the last week of the semester."

  I smiled.

  The class erupted into cheers and I couldn't help laughing.

  "You broke the Ice Queen," Eric said to Eleanor loud enough for me to hear but not enough for me to acknowledge.

  "Your final will be a take-home," I announced over the ruckus and the class applauded. I didn't expect them to begin changing things that they didn't like right away. All I could hope was that they would, at least, think about it.

  ***

  "I think Greece will suit me this summer," Delia said as she chomped on crunchy dressing-coated lettuce. "Athens then off to Crete."

  "Sounds nice," I said, poking around at a stray chip beside my half-eaten sandwich. "I may offer at least one summer class."

  "How exciting, El, be still my spirit." Delia dropped her fork with a clatter, brown eyes gleaming with mischief.

  "Shut up. You tease me mercilessly. Sometimes I—" The shrill of my mobile phone burst from my purse, interrupting my threat. I dug it free and flipped it over to see the store number of The Triple Goddess on the screen. "Sorry."

  "Just get it." Delia waved me off.

  "Hello?" The cold screen of the phone pressed against my cheek.

  "Hey, it's Mae."

  "Hey…" I said as Delia lifted a brow at me.

  "I'm sorry about Sunday."

  "It's okay."

  "Let me make it up to you, all right?"

  "How?" My brow wrinkled and Delia mouthed, "Who's that?" I ignored her.

  "I want to take you somewhere. Without a crowd."

  "Where?"

  "Somewhere quiet and private, I swear. That is, if you still want help with your thesis. You can just interview me like you wanted." Mae's tone, though steady, mingled with the slight excitement that only hope brought. I hesitated. "Trust me, okay?"

  "Just once," I obliged, for now.

  "Where can I meet you?"

  "Right now?" My voice lifted an octave.

&nb
sp; "Yeah." Mae snickered. "Are you super busy?"

  "Um… no. I… we, I was just having lunch at work." I stumbled over my words. Delia had resigned to staring at me, her lunch long forgotten on the table.

  "When do you get off?" Mae pressed.

  "Now but I'm in Beverly."

  "Me too."

  "Isn't this the store number?"

  "The store is my mobile."

  "Oh. I'll meet you… Um…"

  "At the library."

  "The library. Yeah, okay." That seemed like a safe and solitary enough place to meet.

  "See you then." Mae hung up.

  "Who was that?" Delia gawked as I pocketed my phone.

  "No one. Just the woman who owns the shop I told you about. I need to finish her interview," I said as I stood to gather my belongings from the faculty lounge.

  "Are you sure? Your face is beet red." Delia rose along with me, tossing out the remainder of her salad.

  "I'm sure. I'll see you later." I saluted her as I slung my bag over my shoulder.

  "See ya." Delia wagged her brows at me. "I'll call you later and you can tell me all about your gentleman caller."

  I rolled my eyes and bowed out before she had a chance to take another jab at me.

  ***

  Perched on the library steps, Mae, in her usual long skirt and boho blouse, sat idly staring up at the blossoming cherry tree. Before I could put the car in park, she met my gaze and smiled. She snatched up the basket she had beside her and fluttered down the steps, her hair drifting in the breeze.

  "Hey," she said, leaning through the passenger window before climbing inside.

  "We're not staying here?" I asked, swallowing the nervousness that rose from my gut.

  "Not today. Head that way," Mae said, pointing toward the road ahead. I obeyed and pulled into traffic.

  "Where's your car?" I asked.

  "No car. Liz dropped me off here. Do you live close?"

  "Down that road there about a mile out." I nodded to the street east of the library.

  "Oh, the brick building?"

  "Yeah. What about you?" I asked, obliging when she gestured toward the road that led to the conservation area.

  "You've seen my place," she said as she gathered her hair over her shoulder, taming it away from the wind.