ShadowDance

     Carol thought her heart would explode in her chest.  “Oh, thank God!” she exclaimed, hardly able to manage the tears filling her eyes, the thoughts pummeling her consciousness.  “Oh, I’m just so relieved to hear she’s safe!  So very glad!”  She looked around for a tissue with which to sop her tears and wipe her nose.  “And she’s—is she okay?”

     “Yes, dear, she is.  I’m sure she’s in a deep sleep at the moment.  She was soaking wet and exhausted by the time she arrived,” Elaine explained honestly.  “But after a warm bath and some food, she slipped off to bed for a nap.”

     There was silence, one in which Carol felt she was hurdling thoughts, one after another; leaping, and unable to stay long enough to draw near.  As if sensing the younger woman’s discomfort, Elaine ventured forth, her voice soft and soothing.  “Carol, I know this kind of thing—it’s anomalous in your relationship.”  She paused, and Carol easily imagined the silver-haired woman pondering her words.  “Therese said a little bit, but not a lot.  Just enough to help me understand the struggles that brought her here.”

     Carol’s heartbeat began to thump painfully, banging away until she heard it in her ears like the thunder of an approaching storm.  “And—” She stumbled, afraid of what she might hear.  “--and does she want me to come there?  Or will she come back home soon?”

     Elaine cleared her throat.  “I’d only be guessing to say one way or the other.”  She paused, stumbling through the stilted conversation.  “I’m certainly going to encourage her to call you when she’s awake and feels her thoughts are clear enough.”  Another pause, more throat clearing.  “I do know Therese loves you very much, Carol.  My impression is that she needed some distance to make sense of her own inner turmoil.

     Oh, I understand turmoil.  “I understand,” Carol responded, sadness echoing her every word.  “You’ll tell her that I’m thinking of her and I’m here?  I’m not going anywhere?”  Not like last time.

     “Yes, of course!” A pause, again.  “And I’ll take really good care of her here.”

     “I know.  Thank you, Elaine.”  Carol rang off and as she did, she felt crushed by melancholy.  And anger, which came rushing in to fill any gaps.  This whole goddamn mess is Harge’s fault!  Why is he doing this?  Doesn’t he care about Rindy?  Does the man not have one iota of decency?

     “I’m still here, you know.”  Abby’s voice cut into Carol’s unhappy reverie, and the blond looked over at her old friend.  She had a patient smile on her pretty, angular face, a look of tolerance in her eyes.

     “I know, Abs.  I’m sorry.”  Carol’s slender shoulders rose and fell as if labored.  She shook her head, running a tremulous hand through her already unruly hair.  “I’m sorry,” she said again, embarrassed at her self-absorption.  “I gather you get the gist of the call…Therese is safe at Elaine’s…she arrived this morning…she’s napping now…she needed some space.”  She sighed.  “And she’s going to call me soon.”

     Abby studied her companion with the critical, knowing eye of an old and trusted friend.  Carol looked stressed and spent, her complexion almost bleached, and this caused the other woman to jump to her feet.  “Listen,” she commanded, taking charge, “I’m going to fix us a light bite to eat, okay?  I’m famished and you look like you could faint on the spot.  Then we’ll talk some more.”  When Carol looked like she might object, Abby held up a hand.  “No, not a word.  Go freshen up, wash your hands.  This won’t take long.”

     Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, Carol cringed.  Her skin was completely devoid of color, making the blush she’d applied in the morning look like crude, jagged slashes.  Her eyes and lips seemed faded, too, and her hair had turned into a mess of tangles and frizzy curls in the warm, humid apartment.  Jesus!  She was appalled.  She decided to remove the offensive makeup, and after a wash her face looked fresh and enlivened.  She ran a comb through her golden blond locks, not even bothering to lament the frizz.  After using the commode, Carol felt more equipped to speculate over the myriad thoughts and possibilities fighting for attention in her mind.  Yes, much better, she thought as she left the bathroom.  More like myself.

     Abby was in the kitchen, slicing cheese.  She halted her task to glance at Carol with a doleful expression.  “Do you people eat?  There’s next to nothing in this house.”

     Carol smiled.  “Yes, Abigail, we eat,” she replied, grabbing plates and utensils.  “Lately, though…you know…stress…I’ve been going out…and it’s been so hot…”  Her voice faded, and Carol was left with a feeling of having survived another wave.  She sighed.  Treading water kept you alive, but it was so exhausting after a while. 

     Her companion placed a platter on the kitchen table.  “Sit.  You look better, but still awful.  Let’s eat.”  She gestured to the sliced cheeses, grapes, cold chicken, and crackers.  They filled their plates, munching in silence for a few minutes.  Abby was pleased that Carol was eating and refrained from asking the questions volleying around her head.

     Eventually, Carol spoke.  “Thank you.”  She shook her head.  “I’m sorry for being this way.  It’s—”

     “Don’t even go there,” Abby interrupted with her own head shake.  “Don’t, Carol.”

     Carol’s eyes darkened, the blue gray turning liquid with tears.  “You know me.”  Her words were halting.  “This just isn’t how I am.”  She looked around the kitchen table, needing a cigarette.  “But Therese can just affect me …and Rindy is like an arrow in my heart and—” The tears spilled over.  “--I’m just so tired of this, Abby!”

     The other woman watched her with a mixture of sadness and frustration.  “Then deal with it.”  Abby’s words were abrupt, cutting, and Carol’s eyes flashed with anger.  “Deal with it already.” 

     “I have been dealing with it!  How can you say—”

     “No!”  Again, the direct, almost commanding words.  “You haven’t really, Carol.  Ever since you heard from Harge, you’ve been avoiding the issue.  You seem to be avoiding time alone in your own home with Therese.  You grab a cigarette whenever I ask you how you’re feeling and—” Abby stopped, knowing Carol was in a precarious place and not wanting to go any further.

     Carol watched her, irritation rising.  “Why are you stopping?  Just say what you’re thinking!”

     The other woman took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second as she considered her words.  “We’ve known each other forever, honey.  And I’ve figured out—”  She stopped again, feeling as if the neurons in her brain were on a mission, seeking memories and moments and instances, hopping from synapse to synapse until a network was lit up like a radar screen.

     “Carol, when you withdraw, it’s not just to protect yourself.” Abby held up a hand, as if to ward off a blow.  “I’ve lived through it with you, many times.  Enough to see that sometimes—” Amber eyes sought blue gray eyes now, piercing in focus.  “I think you withdraw to withhold and manipulate…maybe even punish.  And I think it makes you feel powerful…” She hesitated, afraid she was going too far, “…and lately I’m not sure who you’re punishing.  Harge?  Therese?  Yourself?”  She felt unnerved, frightened by her own honesty, and shook her head.

     “I don’t want you to lose the love you have, Carol!  I don’t want you to fuck things up!  You and Therese are so fortunate.”

     “I’m not fucking anything up, Abby!” Carol almost shouted.  “Harge is!  And I don’t know what you’re talking about—yes, I pull away, but I don’t punish anyone!  And none of this is my fault!  Things were great until he told me about maybe moving away with Rindy.  Therese and I were fabulous!  And now I don’t even know what to do.  What to say.  Do I fight for this relationship?  Do I let Therese go and then assert my parental rights?  I’m Rindy’s mother!  I can’t bear the thought of not seeing her frequently…”  She choked back tears.  “Either way, the loss…too much.”  The tears fell.  “It’s just too much to bear.”

     Abby’s heart was breaking for her dearest friend.  She scooted her chair closer, reaching for one of her hands, and it was cold despite the warmth of the kitchen.  Bringing their foreheads together, she said, “And I won’t let you bear anything alone, Carol.  No matter what happens.  I know Therese wouldn’t either.”  She sighed, and it fell upon the silence like strands of a web.  “Talk to her.  What the two of you have is special.”  Abby leaned back, reaching up to push Carol’s hair from her eyes. 

     “Don’t let yourself be victimized by this whole thing!  When she calls, talk it all out.”

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     I had taken Sparky down to the beach for a walk.  We skirted the shoreline for a long time, and it felt so wonderful to have the light but steady wind accompanying us.  The morning’s torrential rain had passed, leaving a very warm and humid day in its wake.  The cool breeze refreshed me body and spirit.

     I sat for a while on a seat I carved out of the warm sand, just taking in the swell of the waves while I watched Sparky play at the water’s edge.  The earlier storms had created a wild seascape of blue and green and gray, with a steady splash of white where the waves crashed and foamed on the shore.  The repetition was calming, almost hypnotic, and I could feel myself relaxing for the first time in many weeks.  Sparky either scampered after the swooping seagulls or charged the waves, barking ferociously.  I think it was sitting still that allowed me to feel grateful for the simple pleasure of watching my Newfoundland friend play.

     I also missed Carol and Benny terribly.  Nothing ever felt right without her.  Every picture was missing a vital image.  The thought depressed me all over again; I fought the despondency that had been hovering for weeks.  My mind flashed back to the conversation I just had with Sr. Alicia.  I could hear her words in snippets; her hope; her faith; her passion.  She was actually excited that Carol and I had this “opportunity to heal together.”  I was more concerned that our relationship was falling apart and shared none of Alicia’s joyful anticipation.

      I watched the gulls, wishing I could soar and dive that way, with such unencumbered power and freedom.  I felt crippled and couldn’t even say why.

     Alicia had been quite confrontive at one point.  She asked me to consider whether I was “refusing an invitation.”  To do what, I asked.  She had rattled off several possibilities:  To live?  To leave the past in the past?  To live in love and not fear?  The words had flown off her tongue with all the energy of the rushing, crashing, splashing ocean in front of me.

     “Therese darling, have you heard of Lazarus?” Alicia asked.

     “No.”

     She chuckled, obviously picking up on the fact that I didn’t care about him, either. “He just popped into my head!  I think the Holy Spirit is giving me a nudge for you,” she went on in her vibrant way.  “Lazarus was Jesus’s friend, someone he dearly loved.  He had two sisters, Mary and Martha, and they desperately wanted Jesus to get to their home to cure Lazarus when he was critically ill.

     “He didn’t arrive until after Lazarus died and was buried.”  I kept listening, mostly because Alicia is an excellent storyteller, and her energy felt infectious.  “This is the part I want you to think about, darling.  Jesus was so heartbroken by his friend’s death that he performed one of his miracles.  He had the stones moved away from the entrance to Lazarus’s tomb, and he stood there and issued a command: “Lazarus, come out!  Come out!”

     There was no way I was believing this.  Reading my mind, Alicia offered me some advice.  “Now Therese, don’t even think about whether this miracle is true or not.  My focus isn’t what you believe right now.  I want you to ponder the symbolism of this story…and put yourself in that tomb.”  She paused, sensing from several hundred miles away that the wheels were turning in my brain.  “Are you in a tomb now, dear, in your own life?”  She paused again for a few moments, time in which I felt something move inside, as if an arrow had hit some mysterious target deep within me.  “If you were being called out of your tomb, would you go?  Or would you stay there in the dark for some reason?  What would be calling you forth?  What would hold you in place?”

     “Alicia, this is all just too…”  My voice gave out on me.  I wanted to sleep.

     “Therese darling,” Alicia said in a soft, motherly voice, “just consider asking the Divine to help you with this.  No matter how it feels in our tombs, we are never alone.”

     Dear Alicia.  Always my wise, nurturing mother.  I loved her with an ache.

     I watched Sparky for a bit longer, amused by his innocence.  He was a big, wet, goof, charging at the waves and barking furiously, then retreating to the dry sand, then charging again as if he’d never seen the ocean before.  Oh, to be a well-loved Newfie, living on the ocean, playing in the waves, and drying off before a warm fire.  What a life!

     My legs had begun to cramp, and I whistled to my pal, thinking of Benny again.  “Come on, Sparky.  Time to go, boy.  Time to go!  Elaine will think we’ve been taken by pirates.”  He chugged over to me obediently as I stretched my legs.  As we began to walk, I thought of Lazarus.

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     The phone rang once, and she snatched it from its cradle.  The thump of her heart was sudden and almost painful.  I’m going to have a goddamn stroke.  “Hello, this is Carol,” she said, trying to keep her hand from shaking.

     “Carol, it’s me.”  She thought Therese’s voice held a note of fear.

     “I was hoping it was…”

     “I’m so sorry if I frightened you!  I didn’t mean to.  I just really needed the space to think, to talk with a friend.” 

     “And have you—”

     “I’ll ask Elaine to take me to the station in the morning, ok?  Is that ok?  Can we talk?  I mean, really talk?”

     Carol felt something begin to shift, like the almost imperceptible movement of an iceberg before it calves.  It was both calming and unnerving.   She spoke, unable to help herself.  “No, sweetheart.  I’ll come there and get you!”  She couldn’t stand the thought of Therese on the trains for some reason.  Enough is enough.  “I’ll leave early!  Just seeing the ocean for a bit will be lovely and--”

     “No, you don’t have to!  I’m the one who came out here in the first place, I’ll—”

     “Stop!  Don’t mess with me, Therese.  I’m coming there.”  Carol was shaking by now, so much so she wondered if she could drive all the way to the far reaches of Long Island.  She felt like she was drowning.

     “O-kay.  Okay!  Come get me, Carol.  And maybe we’ll have a walk on the beach before we go.”

                                            _________________________________________

     “Carol’s coming here.  She’s always so proper—she called to tell me.  I really want you to come, too, Alicia.  Please?  Can anyone bring you down for dinner?  I’ll ask Carol and Therese to stay, and we can have a nice meal together, just the four of us.  It will do us all some good, don’t you think?  I just feel like us old girls have to support our younger women as much as we can.”  Elaine laughed.  “What else are we good for at this point, anyhow?”

     “Speak for yourself,” Alicia replied, her mind already working.  “Well, I could ask one of the parishioners, I suppose.”  She was silent again, for so long that Elaine wondered what her friend was thinking.  “And?  Will you?”

     The old nun had fallen into spontaneous prayer, whispers rising from her heart.  “Of course, I will.  And Elaine, don’t forget to pray for them tonight.  We must pray, above all else…”

     Alicia was thinking of Therese as she rang off.  She hurt for the young woman, hurt for Carol.  She wished she had the power to help them move beyond this hurdle.  She wished even more that she could help them open their hearts, to welcome God into this place they had been stuck.  She had seen the power of Divine Love at work!  She had seen the miracles that could happen when you opened your heart, when you invited the Presence to transform you.

     Now, she said a prayer she had written some time ago, one she prayed often:

When I am the seed; plant me.

When I am the soil; till me. 

When I am the clay; shape me.

When I am the dough; knead me.

When I am the song; sing me.

When I am the tune; play me.

When I am the kite; lift me.

When I am the stone; build me.

When I am the spice; add me.

When I am the sojourner; guide me.

When I am the lover; love me.

When I am the ashes, spread me.

When I am the life; transform me.

     The candle on Alicia’s prayer table glowed.  Her heart was filled with peace.