As if reading her thoughts, Clive looked up and pointed to Sophie. 'You have recently experienced your soul crack, yes?'
Sophie turned her head away from Clive's pointed stare and rolled her eyes at no one.
'Indeed. It seems so.' He confirmed.
Sophie mumbled under her breath which did not deter Clive in the slightest, for he was on a roll. He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet but the top half of him remained steady and focussed. 'As people, you are so fragile. It's wonderful that you are. Truly. You were made that way. The fragility causes the soul crack that you have all experienced at some point or are susceptible to one. We're sorry you had to go through that. It is ugly. Have it be known that your fragility is your superpower. It's what makes you. It's what creates you. It's what you created out of. This fragility— and I really want you to ponder and meditate on it— this fragility is a special kind of magic. Float away with it. People will love you for it. Some bastards— as you humans would say— will take advantage of it because that is the only way they know how to interact with it. They are not skilled or advanced enough to handle or live with another's fragility unless they are soaking it up and destroying it. Like a flower, they have an impulse to smash it up and pull the petals off. Rather than lovingly admire it, take care of it, be fuelled by its beauty. Again, be assured that on Venus, fragility is celebrated, worshipped and encouraged. Please cultivate your fragility now so as to not harm other lifeforms when our planets join in harmony.' Clive dumped his hands to his side, which signalled he was done with his discourse. ‘And now... questions?'
Eager hands shot upward, even before he finished the word. Clive spread his arms wide and his head bobbed. As quickly as the hands were raised, his struck out, like a cobra and pointed to a man sitting next to Everley who had just sat down after handing out more cups of tea. She was flushed with delight from her duty.
'Please, will you speak of Venus?' The man queried and shuffled excitedly.
'It would be an honour. The planet Venus welcomes you as one of our own. The conditions are different than what you are used to there on earth, with all its density and physicality and, most of the time, its depravity. Just like leaving your home when you go on vacation, you must leave earthly ways behind when you embark Venus. Although the planets will be joined, there will only be one way and that is The New Way of Planet Venus. For it is stronger, more powerful and it holds a magnetic field that is at a higher frequency than that of planet earth's. The density will fall away and the lightness of Venus will burn, like a bushfire, that of earth's. We do not wish to destroy your glorious abode but the damage has already been done. Those that have been seeking to enhance their vibration and have prepared so, will be willing and fitting for the frequency that our dear planet possesses. There are things that weigh you down. Your attachment to things, to places you call home, to people you think you belong to—' Sophie could feel Clive's eyes bore into her— '... and ways of being. It is all futile in The New Way and the sooner you can discard those peacefully, without yanking it from your existence like pulling clumps of hair from your head, the better and easier you will transition.'
Another questioner was called upon rapidly. 'My question is... ohh... I'm strangely nervous. Is it going to hurt when Venus comes for us?' A mousy woman twittered.
'Firstly, I can say it will be a more natural feeling and experience and more long-lasting and thus much more satisfying and safe than your current experience. But you need to prevent yourself from seeking the fireworks and the sleepless nights of tingles that could come from melding with The New Way. Those “Hollywood” feelings. I can see you expect great, monumental things. A candy land where you are in constant orgasm. You must circumnavigate these preconceptions at once. For everything about The New Way will feel nothing short of natural. With the correct preparation, of course. Preparation, as led by those you see around you now, is the key to mitigating culture shock and will ensure you step fully into your fullness of bliss, without any raw adjustment. Venus is.'
Again, hands shot up before he finished. Another hand was picked from the sticks. 'Please, can you tell us about prophecy?'
Clive hesitated and Sophie watched with spite at the thought that something had choked him and his charade would have to stop. A little fire of rage and objection burnt inside her. This man knew nothing of personal situations and his advice seemed a little more than harmful. But she'd gorged herself on the slow-roasted pork and potatoes and had become weary again, her limbs heavy.
Things were getting a little peculiar so she promised herself tomorrow, she would arrange a lift back to the city. Even if she had to beg every person in the camp. Besides, she had another appointment with Carla scheduled. Sophie wondered if she would confess to watching and following her.
As Clive’s words danced on, Sophie watched as everyone seemed to warm right up. Even the thin girl, Abigail, was smiling with her lips pressed into her knuckles.
'Please. More questions?'
Sophie scoffed and heads snapped around to her. 'Where's my husband then?' Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jesse shake his head at her.
'Great question my dear. Although we often don't use The Talk for such nugatory matters, I can tell this is causing you great anguish. And we're not friends with anguish. So, first, let me ask you a question. When was the last time you saw your husband?'
Sophie really had to think. 'Err... six weeks ago.' Sophie hoped she was right. The exhaustion and befuddlement of the ordeal had left her for wanting to keep track of days and such mundanity like using a calendar.
'I see. And we hate to be cryptic here but we want to say to you that sometimes things that do not want to be found will remain lost. Until they are ready to be found again.' Clive raised an eyebrow at her.
Sophie swore he was trying to make a point. 'So, you don't know?'
Clive's face set hard and went to launch into an attack when he turned a corner with his performance. 'Wait, wait... stop now. Something's happening,' Clive extended a palm and shook it out in front of him. Looking at the ground, he paused for an uncomfortably long time. Long enough for people to grab one another's shoulders in anticipation. Sophie noticed that Everley even had time to lay a few cylinders of wood on the big fire outside the shed. As she did the fire popped so loudly that it made everyone, especially Sophie, jump. With the fright, a few people shouted in glee. Taking advantage of the timing, Clive let it rip. 'Yehhawww!' Clive sounded like a deranged cowboy. 'Here it is. It's coming. Venus wants us to get a taste.'
Things were building and getting feverish. People were no longer happy to stay seated, some pouncing on their haunches, bouncing their backside up and down with excitement. Jesse tipped a cup of water over his face and shook it off. One woman had her eyes closed and was dancing to an imaginary beat. Sophie watched the warm light across one side of Abigail's face and even she was glistening with excitement, her eyes thick with water about to spill over her eyelashes.
'Feel it! All y'all feel it!' Clive repeatedly scooped his hands up towards the sky, like he was throwing marbles. 'I urge thee to feel it and rejoice in the bliss that is our destiny. Can you feel it?' The circle before him whooped in response and Sophie had no doubt that their feelings of elation were genuine, just manufactured rather than some divine ecstasy. Clive admired his handiwork of the frenzy before him and it was then that Sophie realised it was all fake, just as she suspected. She saw it in his face, he was so thrilled with himself that it made her nauseous. He caught her watching him and even the thrill of the party, which danced like fairies about him, couldn’t stop the crushing disappointment of being caught. He flicked his eyes away from Sophie, pretending that he hadn't seen her and threw himself into a forced grin, grabbing Jesse and twirling him around in a waltz. Sophie waited for him to shut the evening down. But the end of his tirade did not seem close. Perhaps he was putting on an extra show for Sophie but he jumped off the front of the stage and landed on bent knees like a cat. Grabbing the fr
ont collar of his shirt with both hands, he yanked down hard and his shirt stretched open, revealing his surprisingly smooth chest.
'Hear the rumble of the Venus alchemy forming, like a cloud rolling together in time to spit thunder,' Clive shouted at them. 'Listen to the Seniors who prove themselves for you time and time again, the means to The New Way through the cultivation of alchemy. They do not guide you wrong. Have they yet? No, you will see that they have not. There is no room for questioning their leadership or their expectations, when they know the way.'
Sophie wondered if the routine was as transparent to others as it was to her. Cricking her neck, she looked around to the entrance, which was now gone. The shed door had been shut tight against the night. All of a sudden, Sophie felt claustrophobic and the campers’ antics were no longer just amusing.
'He's a shaman you know. A powerful one at that.' A wispy woman leant over and mumbled at Sophie conspiratorially. 'I don't like to say the word "cure" but I'm sure he had something to do with my health improving.' She sucked at her lips, Sophie was too stuck in the middle of politeness and panic to shift away so she sat silently, tensing up and willing the woman with her crunchy hair and embroidered on butterflies to find another distraction. 'I had cancer you see. I can tell you this, I don't mind. Yeah, breast cancer. Last check-up, told me it was gone! Can you believe that? I'm certain that he had something to do with it.' She stabbed a fist in his direction. Sophie was put off by the woman and willed the evening to end so she could collapse in her small bed and it would be closer to a time when she could get back home. Just a little sleep and then she would walk on her own back towards her car at the first light.
But the woman persisted. 'Yeah, he does 'mazing things, let me tell you. Helped some kid walk again, apparently. I've never seen the kid but that's what a lot of these people here have told me. There must be summin in it, ya know?'
Clive had quietened down and sat at the edge of the stage with his legs swinging. One by one, the campers sat down, flushed and sweaty but silent. Some lay with a thud to the ground, as if it were a yoga class. Two women lay in another woman’s lap, each taking a thigh for a pillow.
In a melodic voice, Clive said 'notice how tired you are right now. It's because you are relaxed. Your soul is releasing tension and there's an unwinding. You no longer need to be on high alert because you’re uncovering the truth. Of where your true home is. And what you must do to prepare. Sink into it. 'Relax...' he swept his hand around the room. 'Relax...' his voice fell to a murmur. 'Relax.'
Sophie resisted his words and the absurdity of this man and his pathetic brainwashed followers. But she could not deny that some part of her was still listening to Clive. She had been pining to truly relax ever since she turned thirty.
She finally yanked her arm free from the woman next to her and stood up to leave. As she stood, she fainted.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The banging shot through Sophie's sleep. Moving from the shed to her bed was a muffled memory. Had she been asleep hours or minutes? Abigail, her face rimmed with her bonnet, was peering down on her. 'Come on, he has summoned us again.' She put out a hand, which Sophie reluctantly took and instantly tumbled onto the floor, almost dragging Abigail with her. 'I'm sorry, I mustn't be awake properly.'
'Never mind. Everley and I shall lift you.' The two appeared at her side like doves.
'Can I perhaps just stay in bed and sleep? I'm awfully tired.' Her own words sounded underwater.
'You can but what if he has information about your husband?'
Sophie allowed the two to scoop their arms under her thighs and carry her out towards the fire. The fire was low, just a tidy pile of red coals. Around it were tall torches poking out of the ground, small flames wavering whilst they waited. The atmosphere was jubilant, confirmed by the hand drumming and eruptive laughter that filled the place with noise. Despite her aching tiredness, there was a magnetic quality to the campers' reactions. Had they been up since the dinner? It reminded Sophie of childcare, where kids were busy like ants, indulging in their choice of play. Swirling paints with their fingers just for the heck of it and declaring that it is a rainbow over and over again. Or building towers with blocks for the sheer delight of smashing them down. Repeating animal noises just to hear how they sound coming from their damp mouths.
'Is he gunna have another go at one of his so-called sermons?' Sophie boldly asked Abigail.
Taken aback she replied, 'oh no, this is the Wild Woman Ceremony. You're going to love it!'
'Oh Christ, this sounds positively gag-worthy.' And she sighed a long heavy sigh, letting her arms flop to the sides of her body.
Abigail shot her a look of confusion and then moved away to gather an armful of sticks. Sophie surprised herself when she felt a bit of relief when Abigail silently returned to her spot next to her.
Clive declared the Wild Woman Ceremony to begin and the campers gleefully and dutifully wove their sticks— mandrake and oat tree roots— around each other. No one bothered to offer Sophie some, which she was secretly pleased about but she was bored so she watched Abigail, who was weaving her roots carefully, with an intensity of a student sitting exams. When she'd finished, she held up a small, complicated wreath to show Sophie. 'See?' She said with pride.
'Oh. What is it?'
'A Mandrake root wreath. We make them in offering to the Wild Woman so she doesn't lead us to hell.'
'Symbolically, yeah?'
'Whatever do you mean? The Wild Woman lives in the woods. She's real. I've seen her.'
'Oh, come off it.'
'It's true! Do you say that I lie?'
'I say that it could have been anything at all and the imagination loves to turn it into a scary thing. That is something I know to be true.'
'Well, I saw her and her lights. Over that way,' she pointed beyond the big shed.
'Is she like a real person? A neighbour or...'
Abigail clutched her arm. 'No! You absolutely must be afraid of her! She is the woman that lives in the woods and is the guardian of the sky, the ground and the sea and the one you shall find at crossroads. A true night wanderer, she will lead you astray or take you directly to riches at her will. As mortals, it is hard to say how to best please her or disappoint her but we try.' Everley nodded along beside Abigail.
Clive overhead and sidled up next to the women and continued Abigail's warning. 'We must never say her name for that will summon her but we must respect and fear her as much as we need to, for she is the keeper of the dark in the woods and has the power to break us or illuminate us, at her desire. If we do not please her in a way of her choosing, she will keenly and unremorsefully lead us into the underworld where she will leave us to die a thousand times and live a thousand times more in a hell that is worse than that of our own creation. If we somehow please her, she will help us transition well to The New Way when Venus connects us. You must never, NEVER, go into the woods alone at daybreak or dusk for that is when she roams and will reflect her enticing light back at you. Without preparation and appeasing, which you clearly have not get done, she will most certainly drop you down to the underworld. And I just don't like your chances, no matter how special you are. Although, truth be told, the Wild Woman is in all of us. Existing in the dark, blackest parts of our mind, waiting to guide us gently back into the day when we have lost our way through the woods of our thoughts. I will tell you though, she is to be feared. Because without warning, she will drag you down by the skin into the layers of hell. Without mercy, too. For she doesn't get attached to your emotions or hear your pleas for help. Her call of judgement is one that is perfunctory and seemingly callous but who are we to judge what she judges? We cannot be both the judged and the judge. We, in our infancy and nobility of mind, in our denseness of energy, of our limited foresight, even those with the gift of prophecy, do not know enough to know the difference between what is right and what is wrong when it comes to deciding the pathway at the crossroads. So…’ he continued passionately, as a few
others had tuned in, ‘…if you cross her at the wrong time, when we have not offered enough, she will slice your throat with her thumbnail and you will bleed your unholy and unprepared blood into the soil below you and will be eaten by the wood mice until you are nothing but empty, bleached bones.' Clive was spitting and his veins stood up in his hands, which were shaped like claws as he warned against the supposed Wild Woman.
Sophie laughed at the delusional fairy tale he was telling. She wondered how much more of this nonsense Clive had stored up inside him.
'Silence!' Clive clapped his hands for attention which brought everyone to an abrupt halt. They all rose and stood in a misshapen circle at the edge of the clearing, all facing outwards into the surrounding woods. And like confetti falling, one by one the circle members started repeating the words 'for you, for you' in a melodic and eerie chant. Some held out their wreaths in front of them and some wore wigs fashioned from tree roots, leaves and twigs. Sophie turned to quiz Abigail, but she too had absconded to be part of the circle.
The Tens: A captivating psychological thriller about a cult Page 9
