Remember The Moon (24 page)

Wow. I can see how powerful a painting can be. That woman in the art gallery fed her soul with Maya's painting, didn’t she?

Exactly. And you helped make that happen.

I didn’t really understand during my life as Jay, but I can see now how stunted I was as a human being.
How much of my life had I missed? I don’t think I ever experienced Maya's energy exchange by looking at her paintings. I wish now that I had noticed those paintings and their effect on me.

The important thing is that you have learned that now. Jay, you have been given special permission to connect to the earth plane in order to help Maya, Marcus, and Calder. But remember that everything you do, whether it’s here or on Earth, has a consequence. Be aware of your thoughts and actions.

OK, but aren’t those repercussions pre-determined by us here, during the plotting process?

The plotting process is just that, Jay. It is a plan. A look into some of the possible consequences of our actions. But the plots can change in unexpected ways, through tiny derivations – other plots that intersect with our own – so that even a serendipitous event instigated from the spiritual realm to help a human toward a greater understanding of himself might not be predicted and thus, this is merely a process, not an end result. This process provides clues as to how a possible scenario might unfold. You can help in this process of events, if you are willing. Like I keep saying, Jay, everything is a choice here.

I sat beside Maya as she lay in her bed, crying. I wanted to wipe the tears from her cheeks or feel them dripping onto my chest as she laid her head against my shoulder. Instead, I could only watch and combine my thought energy with hers. I sensed her anguish over her broken relationship with Dom and I wished I could take back my selfish thought of Sean Connery that day with the psychic, my attempt to keep Maya from Marcus. I thought I was doing her a favor. I didn’t want her to be hurt again by Marcus, and instead I let her be devastated by Dominic. I wanted to help Maya, but just seemed to make things worse for her.

I can help, Jay.

How?

Liz has been called. She can help you to help Maya.
Penelope smiled and disappeared as quickly as she had arrived.

Ask Maya to call Liz.
Penelope’s thought was clear, even if she was no longer present.

I looked at the tear-stained face of my wife and thought simply,
call Liz
.

Maya's eyes fluttered closed and she slept. The next day she called Liz and made an appointment.

A few weeks later, Maya sat tucked into the couch, Liz across from her in a chair.

“I feel so stupid,” Maya said. “I really thought Dom was the one, because he seemed to match your description of the person I would meet at the art opening. I actually thought Jay sent him to me.”

“In a way he did,” Liz said.

“Why would he send me someone who I wasn’t meant to be with?”

“Every person that comes into our lives comes for a reason. Think about what you learned from your relationship with Dom.”

Maya leaned back into the couch and seemed to be thinking. “He saw me as beautiful. After Jay died, I didn’t see myself that way at all. I thought men would see me as a dried up old prune of a mom.”

Liz laughed. “Hardly, Maya.”

“I thought I would be scared to love again, fearful of another loss. But I fell in love with Dom. He taught me that I had the capacity to love another person and that I was worthy of being loved.”

Liz nodded. “And armed with that knowledge, you are now better prepared for any new relationship that comes along.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right. Are you going to tell me what’s next?”

Marcus’s apartment was certainly a testament to a bachelor lifestyle. At the front door he took a leash from a hook and turned toward his big, black dog, curled up sleeping in a big chair.

Suddenly I felt weird being there, watching him.

Why am I here?
I asked. My dad shimmered within the frozen scene of Marcus’s apartment.

To help Marcus.

Why help him? I still can’t get over the fact that he slept with my wife.

It isn’t obvious? Look around, J.J.

Scanning the apartment again, I noticed all the art on the walls. Every frame held one of Maya's paintings. Paintings that she had sold over the years, often not knowing who had bought them. He had no doubt chosen this apartment for its gallery-like wall space. The room resonated with her energy.

He’s a creepy stalker of my wife?

That’s your human speaking. What does your heart tell you?

“C’mon, Jericho,” Marcus said, interrupting us. “Let’s get you out for a pee.” Jericho perked up his ears and looked at Marcus and then settled his head back down on the armrest, clearly not interested in a walk.

“Jericho, let’s go!” Jericho took his time yawning, his big tongue curling up into his mouth before sticking his forepaws out as he slid reluctantly off the chair.

“Am I intruding on your sleep, you poor, lazy dog?” Jericho just yawned again and came sniffing around me. He sat and looked at me, cocking his head slightly as if trying to give my image meaning. “Why are you staring at the wall, ya crazy mutt? Let’s go.” Marcus attached Jericho’s leash to his collar and together they walked out the door. They strode through Stanley Park, Jericho sniffing every tree and lifting a leg before continuing.

You will be together again.
I couldn’t tell if the thought was mine or someone else’s.

Marcus stopped abruptly. He closed his eyes, appearing to be deep in thought.
I need her.
I heard Marc’s thought clearly.

And she needs you.
These words did not come easily to me. I wanted to be the one she needed.

But she doesn’t want to see me.

She wasn’t ready.

And what makes you think she’s ready now?

I kept my thoughts silent in reply.

I think I’m going insane.
Marcus shook his head as if to rid himself of his own thoughts. Jericho stopped walking and sat waiting for Marcus, his head cocked, looking at me again. “Who are you looking at? Jericho, I think we’re both going insane.” With that, Jericho jumped up and bounded to the end of his leash, pulling it from Marcus’s hand, causing him to take off running after the dog, who, ready for a chase, kept running through trees with Marcus calling after him. I didn’t follow. I knew Marcus had heard me. I didn’t know how long it would take, but the seed was planted. Still, he would need more prompting to nudge him toward Maya. But this whole idea of getting Maya and Marcus together still seemed farfetched. A little too convenient.

Dad? You still there?

Always.

Is Marcus really the right person for Maya?

All you know of Marcus is what Maya told you about a time in her life when her heart was broken by him.

Does that mean she didn’t really love me? Did she always love Marcus?
I hated sounding like a whining three-year-old.

Maya, like any human, has the capability to love many people. Of course she loved you. Why do you even question that?

Because I’m starting to see the inevitability of her relationship with Marcus.

Yes. You have the perspective now to see that Marcus was a predetermined presence in her life. But then, so were you.

My father faded and I returned to the living room with Maya and Liz.

“He’s showing me a dog. A man walking a black dog,” Liz said. Maya looked at her blankly. Of course she would have no way of knowing that Marcus had a dog.

He’s coming back to you, Maya. He will find you again.

“Someone is looking for you,” Liz said. “I’m not sure what that means, but it’s what I’m getting. There is someone coming, Maya.”

“You mean a new relationship? God, I don’t think I can do that again. Dom turned me off relationships for a while.”

“The universe knows when the timing is right. You might not be ready now, but when the timing is right, it will happen. And you will be better prepared for a new relationship because of what you learned from Dom.”

“I hope you’re right, Liz.”

I hope so too,
I thought.

At that moment I began to feel an odd sensation, one of being lifted and floating at once. I moved away from Maya and Liz. My aura changed from pale yellow to a pale purple. My father seemed to recede from me. I felt no panic at this, but instead a sense of euphoria swept over me.

What’s going on? Dad? Are you doing that?
At my beckoning, my father appeared.

It’s not my doing. It’s yours. I believe you are being absorbed into your new level. Light is absorbing your energy and as you move up, you will begin to understand more. You are becoming more of an integrated part of the collective of soul-spirits.

Why now?

You’ve earned it, of course. Through the renewed condition of your heart, now the universal energy has deemed you ready for more learning. Your human-ness has dropped away to such an extent that your soul-spirit is able to rise higher. You are becoming purer in soul-spirit, Jay. Embrace it.

The light around me shone with a new intensity. Colored lights surrounded me and I realized these were other soul-spirits who existed in this new realm, which I hadn’t been able to see until now. I felt serene and tranquil, yet elated as well. I wished I could truly laugh, or shout or clap. I looked up and saw my dad hovering just above me, smiling. His aura pulsed a brilliant shade of emerald green I hadn’t seen before because I hadn’t yet achieved this level of clarity. I realized I no longer saw him in his Rolling Stone’s t-shirt and I hadn’t noticed the change.

That green aura matches your eyes,
I thought. My dad just continued to float upwards into a realm beyond my reach. I heard his words:
Don’t forget about Marcus. He needs you now.

T
he yellow walls, French doors out to a garden, and tightly woven grey carpet were unfamiliar. Drum equipment, an electric guitar, a small electric piano and an amp and their respective power cords snaked around the room. Calder sat behind the drums and his friend Owen stood in the center of the cords, holding a guitar and picking out the notes of a song from memory. Calder tapped his sticks against the snare lightly, trying to keep the pace and maintain a rhythm. It took a few minutes to recognize the tune as “Hey Jude”. Each time Owen plucked a wrong note, he started again from the beginning. The tiny amplifier beside him reverberated.

“Hey, can I jam with you guys?” The man startled the boys, who stopped playing abruptly. He came farther down the steps and stepped over the wires to give Owen a high five. I was shocked to see it was Marcus.

What’s going on?

My dad appeared.
Think of it as a little nudge, J.J.

This is a pretty big nudge, Dad. This was not my doing. I assume it was yours?
My dad seemed to shrug and vanished.

Typical.

I heard that.

“Sorry, O. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Marcus said to Owen.

“It’s OK.”

“You want introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh yeah, sorry. This is Calder. Calder, this is Marc.”

“Hey.” Calder raised a drum stick.

“You guys sound pretty good. Would it be OK if I played this keyboard?”

“Sure, but it might be too low for you,” Owen said.

“That’s OK. I’ll just get down like this.” Marcus kneeled in front of the tiny electric keyboard and pushed the switch on, causing it to hum to life. “You guys start and I’ll just jump in.”

Owen strummed the first bar of “Hey Jude” again. Marcus quickly caught on and followed Owen’s lead, playing the song perfectly, which helped Owen stumble his way through the whole song without stopping, despite his mistakes. Calder had a look of awe on his face as he pounded out an improvised rhythm.

“Wow! That was so cool!” Owen turned and said to Calder, “Dude, was that not awesome?” Calder nodded his head.

“Mind if I show you something?” Marcus asked Owen. Owen shrugged as Marc eased his way up to a standing position. He held his hand out for Owen’s guitar. He held it against his thighs and positioned his hand on the frets. “If you hold your fingers like this, you’ll be able to change chords faster. Here, you try.” Owen took the guitar and tried to put his fingers in the positions Marcus had shown him. Marcus reached over Owen’s shoulder and helped him place his fingers correctly. “It takes practice, but it really helps when you get it. Try the chord now.” Owen strummed and then changed chords by sliding his finger smoothly down the strut. The next chord came perfectly as did the one after it.

“Nice!” Marcus said when Owen stumbled and stopped playing.

“Cool! That really works! Thanks!”

“No problem, buddy.” Marcus then turned to Calder. “And you know, if you let your wrists go limp as you play, rather than playing with your whole arms, you won’t get as tired. Also you’ll be able to play faster. Can I show you?” Marcus took the sticks from Calder and wedged himself into the tiny slot against the wall as Calder vacated his seat. Marc played a long, upbeat solo that left the kids standing agape. He stopped playing and smiled. “Now you try.” He got up and handed the sticks back to Calder.

Calder sat down, held the sticks over the drums, and began playing, this time mimicking the floppy wrist movement that Marcus had just demonstrated. His drumming seemed smoother. He beamed a smile at Marcus. “I wish you were my drum teacher! I’ve been going to him since I was seven and a half and he never taught me that!”

“Really? That’s like the first rule of drumming. You might need to find a new teacher.”

Seeing Calder and Marcus together seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Before now, I had never imagined them together. Why would I? And now I realized they shared a love of drumming, which of course was no coincidence.

See, son, there’s a reason for everything.

Maya, at her easel, leaned in close to the canvas as she dabbed tiny blobs of rose colored paint to create the pinky slabs of rock that I recognized as a landscape view from her Georgian Bay cabin. The phone rang, and she clamped the paintbrush between her teeth so she could pick up the receiver and still hold the palette.

“Mom! Owen’s mom and dad want to know if you want to come over for dinner. There’s this really cool guy who’s teaching me drums. Can you come now?”

“OK, well, give me a few minutes to get out of my painting clothes...”

Maya hung up and finished adding the last of the paint to her canvas. She stood back and cocked her head to look. She shrugged and stuck her brush into a jar of turpentine, a jar already bristling with other brushes. She wiped the palette clean with a paper towel and screwed some of the lids onto the tubes of paint. She pulled her hair out of its elastic as she walked to the bedroom and opened the louvered closet door, stepped out of the old jeans smeared with paint, and put on a cleaner pair. She slipped a loose sweater over her head. In the bathroom mirror, she brushed on some blush and dragged her fingernails down a strand of hair, trying to rid it of a glob of cadmium red.

“Ugh,” she said to herself, leaning into the mirror. “That’s the best I can do on short notice.”

From the fridge she grabbed a bottle of Prosecco, pulled on a jacket to ward off the late September chill, and walked ten minutes through the ravine to Owen’s house. Patty, Owen’s mom, answered the door.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” Patty ushered Maya in. “We have a friend visiting from Vancouver and thought it would be lovely for you to meet him, you know, since you’re both Canadian,” Patty said as she winked. “Wine?” In the kitchen, Patty took down a glass from the cupboard. Maya placed her bottle on the counter.

Voices and the squeal of a guitar accompanied by a fast drumbeat floated up from the basement stairs.

“The boys are all down there ‘jamming’,” Patty said. “It’s been so cute. Our friend Marc’s been coaching them. He played in a band at one time, I gather.” Patty handed Maya a glass of wine.

“The boys must be loving that.”

Men’s voices were heard on the basement stairs. Ian, Patty’s husband, emerged and walked over to give Maya a hug. Maya wasn’t paying attention to their guest. Ian let go of Maya and turned to Marcus.

“Maya, this is Marc, an old friend who’s visiting from Vancouver.” Maya looked up and froze. Marcus looked just as shocked.

“Hello, Marcus,” Maya said, regaining her composure. Marcus seemed to be catching his breath.

“Marcus? Do you guys know each other?” Patty asked. “Yeah, from a long time ago. And yes, Marcus is my full name, but mostly I just go by Marc. With a ‘C’.”

“Well, it certainly is a small world!” Patty said.

“Hello, Maya.” He approached her and held out his hand. “Good to see you again.” Maya seemed flustered and pulled her hand back. “Maya and I knew each other as kids,” Marc said calmly, still looking at her. “Our families both had cottages on the same lake in northern Ontario.”

“Yes. And Marcus attended Jay’s funeral,” Maya said abruptly.

“And your art opening in Vancouver,” Marcus said.

“Yes,” Maya said, eyeing him.

“This is just amazing!” Patty said.

“Hon,” Ian said, “I think we’re ready to put the burgers on.” Ian held a platter of burger patties and was headed toward the door.

“Shall I join you?” Marcus asked.

Calder came bounding up the stairs. “Marc, will you come listen to us? I think we figured out what you were talking about. You gotta come!” Calder grabbed Marc’s sleeve, pulling him toward the basement.

“I’ll be out here if you need me,” Ian said, disappearing outside.

“Calder, give Marcus a moment. He’s with the adults. Maybe he doesn’t want to play right now,” Maya said. Calder looked at her quizzically.

“Who’s Marcus?”

“It’s my full name,” Marc said. He looked at Calder and then at Maya.

“Calder is your son?” Marcus asked.

Maya shrugged helplessly. “Sorry. I hope he’s not being annoying.”

“I’m not being annoying!” Calder complained. “Marc, pleeeease?”

“I’ll be there in a sec, buddy, K?”

Calder nodded and disappeared back down the basement stairs. The guitar squeals and drumbeats started up again. “Sorry,” Maya said.

“No, I just didn’t connect... He looks different than he did at the funeral,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, he’s cut all that long hair off.”

“Ah, right. I should have known. He looks a lot like you. He’s a really great kid, Maya.”

“Yeah, he is,” Maya replied, looking at Marc directly for the first time.

“I’ll just see what they need. Be back in a sec.” He glanced at Maya before going down to the basement.

The series of events that led to this moment were carefully plotted, though not entirely by me. Calder's interest in drumming came from me, but my father played an obvious part in this meeting of worlds. I couldn’t control the actions of either Maya or Marcus. I was still a reluctant player in this game of fate, not fully convinced that Marcus was the right person for Maya. He still had an arrogance about him that I didn’t like.

“So, Patty, how do you guys know Marcus?” Maya asked as she pulled out one of the bar stools and sat at the kitchen island so she could watch Patty slice tomatoes and onions.

“It’s weird, really. Ian met Marcus at Elliot Bay Bookstore of all places. They got to talking about some book and just sort of hit it off. We began getting together for dinner whenever he was in town and now, rather than stay at some nondescript hotel, he stays with us for a few nights when he’s here. We all just adore him. Amazing that he’s an old friend of yours. Do all you Canadians know each other?”

Maya laughed. “No. We don’t. But it is amazing. He’s the last person I imagined bumping into so close to home.”

“He’s still single...” Patty looked at Maya with a glint in her eye. I could tell she enjoyed this matchmaking role.

Marcus re-appeared from the basement. “Who’s still single?” he asked.

Patty blushed. “Maya is.”

“Patty!” Maya said, blushing.

“What? I know neither of you would ever admit it, so someone has to.”

Maya twisted her wedding ring, now on her right ring finger. Marcus took the stool next to Maya. Neither spoke as they watched Patty arrange buns on a plate. Marc fiddled with the tab on his Coke can.

“Did you know Jay as well, Marc?” Patty asked, breaking the silence.

“A long time ago. I hadn’t seen him since we were teenagers,” Marc replied. “But I know he was a good guy.” Maya looked surprised. I was surprised as well. I always thought Marcus had nothing but contempt for me, being the one Maya chose to marry.

“Such a tragic accident,” Patty said. “Just so meaningless.”

“It sucked,” Maya said.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Marcus said, smiling slightly.

“I have no better words,” Maya said. Another awkward pause followed.

“Are you two OK here for a moment?” Patty said. “I just have to go grab some paper towels from the garage. Be right back.”

Maya turned to Marcus. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Did you just become friends with these people so you could get to me?” Maya asked, sounding accusatory.

“What? That’s ridiculous and you know it. I had no idea you knew Patty and Ian. How would I?”

“Because they live in my neighborhood and have a boy the same age as Calder?”

“I had no idea what neighborhood you lived in, Maya. I don’t even know how old Calder is at this point.”

“Well, it just seems awfully coincidental!” Maya said, her voice shrill.

“I’m back!” Patty pulled the wrapping off a roll and fiddled it onto the holder attached to the wall. Marc and Maya remained silent.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Is everything OK?” she asked.

“Yes, of course.” Maya's face flushed.

“Maya and I were just getting caught up,” Marcus said and smiled at Maya. Maya looked uncomfortable.

Ian came through the door with the empty burger platter and placed it in the sink. “Burgers are on. It’ll be just a few minutes,” he said. Marcus and Maya sipped their drinks as they watched Patty and Ian do the dinner prep dance around the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do?” Marcus asked.

“I think we have it under control, Marc. Thanks,” Ian said.

“We just need to set the table,” Patty said, juggling a bowl of green salad and another of pasta salad toward the open deck door.

“Here, let me,” Maya said, grabbing the bowl of pasta salad. Marc followed with the platter of buns and a tray of condiments. Ian called the boys from the top of the basement steps and grabbed the wine and another couple bottles of beer. The usual dinner frenzy of items being passed around the table, drinks being poured, all punctuated with laughter made me miss dinner with friends, the smell of meat on the barbecue, the taste of a cold beer.