The Den (16 page)

Skyla became aware of the fact that Alex’s hand was soft and familiar.  To the right, James held her other hand.  His hand was cold and hard.  With her eyes closed, it didn’t feel like a hand at all.  She could have been holding an inanimate object.  Skyla began to count her heartbeats to keep clam.  When she reached 780, it began.

-Nineteen-

Soul Mates

Lucy began with a chant.  It was a nearly inaudible murmur, but Skyla thought it sounded like “home.”  The others joined in, and the room buzzed like a beehive.  The white light from the candles encircled the six meditators, blanketing them in a sphere of comfort.  The humming went on for what seemed to be twenty minutes.  Then Peter began a prayer: 

We begin
The Seven Sacred Let Lines
.

Let no one disturb this circle of light.  

Let all who are within the sphere be kept safe from the outside world.  Let the light follow and protect us wherever we may go.

James sat up straighter and continued the prayer:

Let us understand each other in every way. 

Let us have the gift of sight in darkness. 

Let us hear each other in our minds. 

Let us feel each other in our hearts. 

Then they dropped hands and bowed their heads.  Mara said, “I’ll get it.” 

“No.  I want Lucy to do it,” James said.  “Lucy, go get it.”

Lucy walked over to a little cooler that was in the corner near the kitchen doors.  She took an old Coke bottle out and held it up for inspection.  She slid it under the opener that was attached to the underside of the staircase railing.  There was a clink as the bottle cap dropped to the floor.  Lucy crossed through the circle holding the open bottle.  A drop of something thick and burgundy-colored spilled onto her right hand as she knelt in front of Skyla. 

Lucy held out the bottle with a smile and an encouraging nod.  Skyla reached out and grasped the bottle with both hands.  Lucy shuffled back on her knees.  Skyla liked the feel of the cold, heavy old-time glass in her hands. She kept her eyes on Lucy as she raised the bottle to her lips.  Was this what was expected of her?

Lucy nodded.  Skyla kept her eyes on Lucy’s face.  She lowered her head instead of raising the bottle.  She rested her lips on the mouth of the bottle.  It felt so nice and cool, as if she were about to suck on a refreshing ice cube on a hot afternoon.  She wrapped her lips around the bottle.  Alex raised his hand and placed it on Skyla’s back.  She shook it off.  She didn’t want to have his hot hand on her now.  His brief touch felt as if it had burned through her shirt.  She could still feel it there.  It irritated her.  She wanted to enjoy the fresh coolness of all things in this cellar.  Skyla didn’t see or didn’t care to notice, but next to her James looked to the heavens and murmured, “Thank you.” 

Skyla closed her eyes and leaned backward as if her upper body were a lever.  She brought her head and the bottle back at the same time.  The first drop of liquid flowed onto her waiting tongue.   It was cold and tingly.  It numbed her tongue and then the back of her throat.  It touched the roof of her mouth on the way, chilling that as well.  It slid down farther, and Skyla swallowed reflexively.  She drew the bottle out of her mouth.  She swallowed again slowly, staring at the glass bottle she held.  A quarter of the liquid was gone.  She licked her lips and tasted the salty-sugary combination.  It was refreshing and filling at the same time.  She got up onto her knees and put the bottle to her lips again.  She took a bigger gulp this time, stopping only because she wanted the drink to last.  She didn’t want to finish it in just two delicious swigs.  But then she couldn’t stop herself—she immediately took the third and last greedy gulp, finishing the bottle. 

When it was done, Skyla looked at the bottle in wonder.  She sneakily leaned in and stuck her tongue inside the bottle’s mouth, trying to lick it clean.  Then she brought the bottle back up and leaned her head all the way back.  Perhaps there were some drops left at the bottom.  There were.  These tiny drops were sickly sweet at first taste, but they left an aftertaste like stale blood.  She handed the empty bottle to Lucy, who was still resting on her knees in front of her.  They were face to face, kneeling a foot apart. 

“Sorry.  I finished it,” Skyla whispered.

“Yes.  That is good.  I had a fresh drink last night.  We all did.  This was saved specially for you.  Steve is on a trip to retrieve more for our stock.”

This statement should have given rise to questions for Skyla to ask her new friends, but it did not.  Her surroundings all began to feel very comfortable.  It all began to feel so very safe.  She wanted to drink some more right now.  She continued tasting the staleness on her tongue and wished it could be that first salty-sugary taste that lingered instead.  She began to feel a bit queasy, but she relaxed and let it pass.  The others smiled so warmly at her.  Even Mara seemed to be a comrade.  James took her right hand and held it to his lips.  He kissed it softly.  It was an intimate gesture.  Alex was the only one not smiling now.

Lucy pushed herself backward until she was back in her original spot.  She sat cross-legged again and spoke to Skyla.  “Now you go first.  You focus your attention on me.  What am I thinking?”

Skyla sat down like the others and tried to focus.  It was not difficult.  It was like breathing.  As long as she remembered to inhale, the sounds would flow in on the breath.  She thought she’d heard Alex a few times over the past couple of days.  It was coming back to her.  She would just relax and clear her mind now.  Lucy’s thoughts came to her quickly.  Though Lucy’s lips were still, her voice was moving across the circle to Skyla. 
I’m so glad you drank it.  So glad you join us now
.

These thoughts were deliberately aimed at Skyla.  They were clear and so very easy to hear.

The exercises continued for an hour or so.  Alex remained silent.  Skyla began shifting ever so slightly toward James.  James reached out and took her hand again.  It felt cold and inviting.  She held it and was glad.  The incense was getting the best of her, and she became dreamy.  She looked into James’ eyes.  They were so very dark, black maybe.  It almost reminded her of looking into the mirror.  Everyone always commented on how Skyla’s own eyes could not really be called brown.  They were actually black, especially when Skyla was angry.  Her eyes would go dark as night when her temper was roused.  She leaned in closer.  Those eyes were capturing her.  She could not look away.  Then she heard James speak.  She heard it plain as day even though his lips did not move. 

Yes. It is I, baby.  I have been waiting for you for ages.  I have missed you.

Skyla reached out and touched his face.  It was ice cold and hard.  It reminded Skyla of when she’d touched her grandmother as she lay in the coffin.  The funeral had been very peaceful, but Skyla never forgot the icy, leathery touch of her grandmother’s hand.  It haunted her, and she always wished she hadn’t done it, hadn’t leaned over the coffin to kiss her grandmother’s cheek and touch the hands that were folded frozen around the white rosary beads.  

Skyla moved her fingers to James’ lips.  Up close they looked like the color of red roses.  They were stained red.  It looked as if James had been kissing a woman who wore bright red lipstick.  She lifted his lip and ran her fingertip up to his fang.  It was sharp.  She pulled her finger back quickly, as if she had been shocked. 

James silently answered Skyla’s silent question. 
Yes.  Mine are quite real.

How do I know you?  Why do I know you?  Why am I filled with such fear when you are near?
 

James laughed at her.  Out loud he said, “One thing at a time, my dear.”

Skyla jerked her head to the left to find Alex.  The quick movement caused Skyla’s head to spin once again.

Alex took a deep breath.  He would be patient until they left the den.  It was impossible to keep your mind straight down here.  When Skyla was in the fresh air, she would remember herself.   She would remember the self from this lifetime.  He would figure out a way for her to keep her thoughts straight in the den.  He was in love with her, and he knew she was falling for him, too. 

Lucy tried to help Skyla.  “If Steve were here, it would be clearer to you.  Certainly his energy would bring up your repressed past-life memories.”

“My past life?”  Skyla was beginning to cry.

“Yes, love.”  James was earnest.  “Don’t you remember me?  Don’t I look familiar to you?  You are one of us already.  You were my wife long ago, but you were taken from me before I could fully make you mine.  I was made immortal while you were still in practice.”

“Enough!” Alex shouted.

“This is not making any sense,” Skyla said.

Mara jumped in to explain.  “Sure it is.  Focus harder.  You are most connected to James.  You are his soul mate.  Don’t you feel it?  We all were together the last time around, but you were linked to him in a special way.  You two are mates for eternity.  Or you will be soon.”

“That is right,” James said.  “This life, you are even more mature.  It won’t take long to make you immortal.  I think maybe you are ready now.”

“What?”  Skyla was utterly confused, and she began to sob.

“No.  We wait for Steve,” Alex said.  “She isn’t committed yet.  If you force her, then she might reject you afterwards.  Instead of being your eternal mate, she will be your eternal enemy.  She hasn’t decided.”

“A threat?”  James glared.

“Fact!” stated Alex.

“Careful, Alex!  I get it—you have feelings for her,” James snarled.  James kept his seat.  He did not want to leave Skyla’s side.  He went on in a slightly more controlled tone.  “You must remember, Alex, she isn’t yours.  This life is shallow.  Go beyond your human needs.  Think with your soul.  You know that Mara and you were to be joined.  You waited for her.  Now when she is finally ready, you refuse her.”

“I do not know that!  I don’t know anything for sure, and I do not remember my other lifetimes.  I only know what Steve said, and he isn’t here now.  I know that when I saw Skyla, I felt connected to her.  Maybe Steve is wrong.  Maybe you are wrong.  Maybe Skyla’s mine.”

“First of all, I don’t belong to anyone.”  Skyla’s words were garbled because she was crying.  “I mean, I am Skyla Jane Judge, and I belong to my parents, Vera Benoit and Joseph Judge.”

James was gentle.  “Think about it.  Haven’t you always had special powers?  Haven’t you been a mind reader and a witch?  Yes.  It is because you nurtured this part of yourself in a past life.  You were part of us then. We were all there.  Only I was made first.  Steve didn’t have time to get to the rest of you—to make you all immortal.  You lost your lives too soon, before he could bless you.  There were others that did not approve of Steve’s ways.  These jealous immortals finished you, Alex, Mara, Peter, and Lucy before Steve could save you.  Those enemies could never win.  Everyone knows that souls travel through lives together.  It took Peter a few lifetimes, but he made it back to us first.  Then Lucy and Alex came back, in the same womb at the same time.  It took only a few years longer for Mara, but Steve found her.  He found her and took her back.  We were all looking for each other.  The souls even came back in close proximity to New Orleans.  They were trying to get home.  You traveled farther away, but I knew you were back since you were seven years old.  I knew because you called out to me then.  When you were just a child.”  James smiled.

“I called to you?  I don’t remember you,” Skyla whispered.  Doubt began to flood her thoughts.

“Yes.  The witch, Beverly, helped me to hear.  I came to you once.  I felt you and left the den to find you.  I left Steve for three months.  It was the longest I had been away from the Quarter in all my existence.  I visited you in your garden every day that summer.  Do you remember at all?”

Skyla held her head in her hands and tried to clear a path for her thoughts.  Did she remember?

-Twenty-

The Shadow

Skyla thought of the yard at her childhood home in Chestnut Hill.  When she walks into the yard from the kitchen, there is a screened-in porch.  If she looks to the right, there is a narrow vegetable garden.  It had been there for as long as Skyla could remember.  Out the screen door, to the left, the yard stretches in front of you.  The left and back property lines are always lined with lilac bushes.  In the summer, large flowers cover them and their perfume fills the yard.  Behind them, a chain fence stands to keep out critters.  The fence continues along the right side of the yard and the vegetable garden.  The garden stretches all the way from the screened-in porch to the back of the yard.  When you first walk into the garden, the tomatoes greet you.  During the summertime, the plants are tall and bright green.  The tomatoes grow red and plump. 

Skyla remembered there were always tomatoes.  Over the years, other vegetables were planted in the garden: cabbage, carrots, pumpkins, and whatever else dear Vera decided to plant.  There were always those beautiful tomatoes, though.

There is a gate at the farthest left end of the garden that allows the gardener to exit and enter into the other part of the backyard.  This gate stands only about a hundred feet from Skyla’s tree, the only tree in the backyard.  It is a large oak, and it presides over the farthest left corner of this property.  A great big tire hangs from one of its thick branches. When Skyla was a little girl, she would swing as her mother worked in the garden.  Sometimes she would run through the sprinklers to keep cool.  She would dance around the yard, enjoying the cool drops that would catch her as she leapt over the oscillating spout. 

Skyla remembered an evening when she was swinging on the tire and a dark figure sprang up from the shadows of the lilac bushes.  The shadow lingered in the corner where the back fence met the left-side fence.  Skyla had looked over at her mother, who was in the vegetable garden tending to the ripened tomatoes.  Vera was at the front end of the garden, nearest the house, and Skyla could see the top of her straw hat glistening in the fading light.