Lewis & Ondarko - Best Friends 03 - Now and Zen (13 page)

“What?”

“Remember that woman we met on the ferry when we were coming over before the retreat started?

Pat paused. “You mean Windcatcher?”

“No, the one who helped me up when I fell.”

“What about her?”

“She’s been sort of haunting me.”

“Oh, Deb, you have a too rich imagination.”

“Maybe. Or maybe not.”

“Well, if it worries you, you can always tell Gary about her.”

“I probably will.”

Pat walked back to the cabin to change her shirt, as the dog followed her.

“I’m staying behind to set up the writing workshop,” Deb called. “Remember, we have to lead it today.”

“Okay, I’ll be right down,” Pat said louder than necessary into the phone a few minutes later as she entered the door.

Remember what Swami Ji, the Yoga master, said
she told herself as she hung up the phone.
Breathe. Just breathe. In with the calm clear air, out with the… what the hell is happening down at the self defense class? It sounds like all hell has broken loose. It’s a damn good thing I didn’t put out a glass jar to put a dollar in every time I’ve sworn, or I’d be broke before the day is over.

“Oops I did it again. I’m outta here!” she yelled to no one in particular. “The gods of chaos are laughing today, that’s for sure.”

Slipping into her new tennis shoes, she ran out the door leaving a confused dog alone in the cabin. The dog popped her head up from the couch where she was catching a snooze.

She huffed out the fine hairs around her muzzle as if in a laugh. “Humans! Who can figure them out?” she seemed to be saying in dog language as she laid her head back down and settled in for a nice long nap.

Pat climbed onto the golf cart that Julie had managed to place in the driveway for her, and went bumping down the street. Along the way, she met Bev sitting outdoors under a colorful Thai umbrella at the station she was assigned on Bell Street. Her electric scooter was festooned with ribbons flying in the breeze. Pat waved at Bev who was doing a reading for another woman seated in front of her.

Waving back gaily, Bev turned her attention to the business at hand. The other woman’s worried face made Pat hope Bev was remembering the first rule of good card reading.
Never scare the pants off your client.
She noticed that Bev, in spite of all the work, looked ten years younger.

“Wow that line is getting long!” Pat called out, noticing women waiting patiently for a turn. Immediately, she regretted her words. But, instead of looking worried or tense, Bev looked energized.

“Yeah, isn’t it great? Bev called back. She turned back to the woman in front of her.

“This card may look bad, but it really is a good card for change,” she said.

Pat flew by the crowd and continued on her way.

I can’t believe a person sometimes has to face their own mortality before they can begin really living.

She slowed for a gaggle of older women crossing the road to go into the Mission Hill Coffee Shop when she heard a familiar voice ahead and off to the right.

“That’s right ladies, take your can or your water bottle, whatever you have, and just dip it right into the lake there. What could be better than to have a watercolor painting with a bit of the big lake right in it?” Noreen called out.

Dutifully, about seventy-five women walked into the icy cold water, giggling and gasping. They dipped their hands in the lake to get water, which to Pat, resembled a massive baptism scene. Pat drove on.

That Noreen. How like her to make a simple act of getting ready to paint into an almost spiritual event. Every time those women from all over the world look at the painting they created, they’ll remember the big lake.

Nearing a beach along the way, she slowed down.

What a pretty sight,
Pat thought, as a tiny girl, her innocent face lit with joy, stepped onto the sand, putting a cautious toe into the chilly water. Instead of wearing a bathing suit, she had on a bright yellow dress that danced in the breeze. Her toe nails were painted different colors.

“Why all the colors? Couldn’t you pick?” Pat called out, drawn by the child’s innocence and hoping to make contact.

Turning slowly, the child looked seriously first at her toes and then at Pat. To her surprise and delight, Pat realized it was Gracie, Deb’s granddaughter.

“No, it’s because I like all the colors so I used them all.” She laughed as she ran up to Pat. “Don’t you just love them?” she asked. She was already both sure of the answer and sure of herself.

“Yes, I do. Did you come with someone?”

“Of course, silly.” She laughed again. “I’m just a child!” “There’s Mommy over there,” she pointed. “We came to your party to pray.” She shifted from one foot to the other as if eager to dance.

“To pray? What for? Do you want a puppy, or a surprise?”

“Oh, no, for goodness sake.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard about it from some girls who live here and Mommy says we can do it, too.”

“The children told you they pray?” Pat asked with interest.

“Yes, and they invited me back next year.” She came closer and whispered, as if to share a secret. “We pray her back.”

“Back?” Pat frowned. “Did someone go somewhere?” Startled, she thought of the missing woman.

“Must have, don’t know. But she has a nice name. Want to hear it?”

“Sure. If it’s okay for you to tell me.”

“It’s Hope. Isn’t that pretty?” She tapped her little foot as if Pat were a bit slow.

“So. How do you pray? Is it like on your knees or do you read it out of a book?”

This time her laughter was like little bells on the wind. “You know.”

“I’m afraid I’ve forgotten a long time ago. Remind me,” Pat encouraged.

“You sing it, or dance it, or just laugh it out loud.” She stared sympathetically into Pat’s eyes. “Just try. Even old people can remember how.”

Thanks a lot,
Pat thought. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Well, I think… nobody told me, but I think it works better in a bunch. Together.”

“Together?”
Where two or more are gathered,
she thought.

“You can do it alone, but hope works better together because when you’re bad, you want to be alone and hide, right? But when you’re good… “

“You want to share it?”

“Right.” She ran off to play with the lake.

Pat felt much better.
I wonder who this Hope is that she was talking about. Or is it hope they pray for?
Putting her thoughts aside she continued on her way.

Stepping on the pedal, Pat raced past St. John’s church and then slowed for the large crowd ahead of her.

It must be the crazy full moon or something,
she thought, surveying the scene. Driving into the agitated crowd, Pat stopped and jumped off the cart, as one woman helped another one up off the ground.

“You said I should show you how it was done,” the standing woman said to one on the ground.

“Right, like I meant throw me half way across the island?” the now standing woman huffed as she dusted herself off.

“Ladies, ladies. What the heck is the matter? And where is your instructor?”
She had better not have panicked and run away is all I can say or she’ll owe me a tall one when this is over. Sure she can handle thieves and a wife abuser, but a crowd of women learning self-defense? How much could you ask of a policewoman?

“Oh,” said one tiny grey-haired woman helpfully. “She had to take a young girl to the Doc.”

“To the Doc? What happened?” Pat turned to the two women in the center of the crowd. “Did one of you hurt her?” she asked with her hand placed accusingly on her hips.
Goddess,
she thought exasperatingly,
what is this world coming to?

“Us? No! How could you even think that?” they said together, united in the face of Pat’s anger. “No, this girl came by on her bike and fell and hurt her knee. Our teacher asked us to keep things going till you got here.”

Oh, great, Pat thought. “Did she give you any other instructions?”

“Just like not to kill each other, or break anything,” someone said with a giggle. “She said the Doc was busy enough with the pregnant woman.”

“Pregnant woman?!” Pat asked incredulously. Then she let out a heavy sigh. “Never mind. I don’t actually want to know. Anyone know about self-defense here?”

There was silence except for the sound of the waves. Hesitantly, a woman of about eighty-five raised her hand part way up.

“You are in charge,” Pat said as she pointed at the woman. “Show them some moves and whatever you do… “

“Don’t kill each other or break anything,” several women called out. Everyone laughed.

Getting back on her cart, Pat tooted her little electric horn cheerily at the women.

“Now count off in twos and stand like this facing each other,” she overheard a surprisingly vigorous voice say.

The last thing Pat saw in her rearview mirror as she drove away was the image of the tiny woman soundly throwing her hapless partner onto the ground.

Wow, the marina is full today,
Pat thought, as she drove down the dirt road toward Coole Park.
Some of the women must have sailed over. I might as well check in on the croquet tournament as long as I’m down here. It’ll be great to see at least one thing happening as it’s supposed to.

“Hey, Pat,” a voice called from the woods to her right. She slowed and stopped as Mike’s wife approached her. “Have you made any headway on that missing woman?”

Pat shook her head.

“Truth is, we’ve been pretty busy with all the women who are not missing,” she said, waving her hand in reference to the whole island.

“Busy? It’s more like this would be a special hell reserved for micro-managers.” Noticing Pat’s reaction, the woman smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry. Everyone seems to be having fun. It’s a real happening, like the sixties, only no sex and drugs.” She patted Pat on the shoulder. “But seriously, it would be a big help if the authorities knew for sure the woman was or wasn’t part of the retreat crowd. Mike’s been going crazy with guilt that someone might have been lost on his watch.”

“I know, I know. Gary has asked us to try to help him find out more about it. Truth is, we can’t tell who half these crazy women are. Our registration sort of went by the wayside after the fifth or sixth boatload of women arrived. I wish I could be more help. Tell Mike when you hear from him that we’re doing the best we can.”

After setting up materials for the writing workshop, Deb decided to go for a walk.

I don’t feel like going back to see how the classes are going just yet. I don’t feel like doing anything, really.

She meandered around, until she found herself at the golf club, up on the hill on the eastern side of La Pointe. She sat down on a bench, looking out over the top of the town to the beautiful lake.

I don’t think I’ll ever go on another retreat, no matter who leads it. For that matter, I don’t think I’ll ever listen to one of Pat’s dumb ideas again.

The lake was beautiful to look at and so was the town. In every direction Deb looked there was something going on for the retreat. She could even see Pat in the distance driving off towards Coole Park Resort on the silly golf cart she had commandeered.

I only wanted to have a little fun,
she thought.
I just wanted to feel younger and more carefree for a few days. And darn, not only has the retreat gone cockeyed, but there’s that missing woman.

She had a feeling someone needed her right then, but she sat stubbornly for a moment anyway. Looking at the waves sparkling like diamonds, and boats bobbing, she felt herself relax.

There must be a God or a Goddess, or something anyway, to make such a beautiful place and to keep it from harm.
Deb is a believer who has a deep-seeded belief in goodness.

“Mind if I sit?”

Looking over at a native woman standing by her side, she moved over.

“No, of course not. I’m just trying to take a breather, from it all.”

“The retreat, you mean? I know. You’re one of the organizers, aren’t you? I was just at the painting class. It was great. That Noreen really knows how to get people going. And she is so respectful of the lake. I’m sure the lady was smiling at her.”

“The lady?”

“Yes, you know. We islanders have always believed in the lady who protects it. She is said to renew everything on each summer solstice. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s a nice story.”

“Is it supposed to be Madeline, the woman who the island is named after?”

“Well, that was her Christian name, given to her by a black robe so that she could marry a French man. Some say it’s her, but the legend seems to go back longer than that.”

“Who do you think it is?”

“Me? I don’t think about it much. We celebrate the renewal of spring at solstice, and it brings hope. That’s enough for me. But when I was a child, I once thought I met her.”

“Really?”

The woman laughed with embarrassment. She paused.

“Yes, I was frightened one night. I had stayed a little too long on the beach, not listening to my mother, don’t you know? It was dark. The darkness almost took a shape and I was too scared to go home on the lonely dirt road. I started to cry. Then a woman came. A woman about my mother’s age. She took my hand and smiled. And then it didn’t seem so dark anymore. She just took me right to my door.”

“Was it the spirit, do you think?”

“Could have been. Even if it wasn’t, she got me home safe, but didn’t keep me from a smack on my behind for being late.” She chuckled at the memory. “Who knows how legends start up? Maybe you and your friend will become one after this weekend.”

“Well I certainly hope not! Have you heard about the woman who is gone from the ferry?” Deb asked.

The woman nodded.

“What do you think happened?” Deb prodded.

“I think sometimes things happen and we never know why. Maybe she just lost hope, or maybe she was taken up to the sky. After all, you Christians believe in the rapture, don’t you?”