by Diana Stone
Out of the blue, Jack asks me if I’d like to go to the vortex. He says it’s worth a try if I want to go.
“Yes… count me in,” I exclaim. “Oh wait, I’m supposed to lead rides today,” darn it.
Veronica gives me a smile, “It’s okay, I’ll cover for you. See the vortex. I know you’re curious.”
“Thank you!” I give her a quick hug, something I rarely do.
21
The Vortex
Jack tells me, “I’m happy to play chauffeur, just leave your truck at the barn.”
“What am I supposed to feel at the vortex?”
“There is no guarantee, it’s different for everyone. It may be turned off today,” he jokes.
“Well, I hope it’s a life-changing event. I’ll accept even a bit of vertigo as proof it exists.”
“Jess, it’s real,” he says with a straight face.
When we arrive at his barn, he shows me Old Glory, who looks happy and healthy even though he’s old. The vortex healed him.
He backs the ATV out of the garage. “We’ll drive to avoid the long trek, or are you feeling good enough to walk?”
“Right now I have low blood sugar. If the vortex does anything I’d like to have the strength to stand up to it. Can we have a bite of something delicious from your fridge? Eat good food when it’s available, that’s my motto.”
“You’re a special woman, you know that?” he says with a gleam in his eye. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”
Standing in front of the open fridge, I have so many choices.
In my peripheral vision, I see him, leaning against the island with an amused expression.
Eagerly, I pull out the stack of glass containers. I remove the one labeled ‘quiche’ and replace the rest. This sounds good. He selects two plates from the cabinet and puts them on the counter.
He guides me to the bar stool and sits me down. Then returns to the quiche and divides it into two large wedges. When the microwave beeps, he removes it and places my half in front of me.
Twenty minutes later I’ve stuffed myself with a delicious meal. “I’m full, really full. I could almost go to sleep,” I murmur.
“My dear, of course you’re full, you just ate a wedge of spinach quiche. You’re a good eater, that’s nice to see,” he chokes down a laugh.
“I love good food. Salads are alright as long as they have everything on them like pecans, pears, and gorgonzola. Otherwise, they’re just leaves.”
“Now you’ll have enough energy to handle the vortex,” he notes.
We go back to the barn and mount up on the four-wheeled all-terrain cycle. Slowly motoring up the canyon, past oak trees, and sage; I’m sitting behind him, and since we’re going so slow, I have only one arm wrapped around his waist. I’d have to be dead not to feel the outlines of his hard stomach. I like traveling by ATV!
Each bend of the canyon brings a new scene. A flock of shy California quail takes flight in panic. He points out a fennel bush that must have about twenty tiny gray birds, hanging upside down and twittering. They’re picking at bugs. I’m amazed at the beauty of the wild canyon beyond the controlled, pruned and staked wine grapes. We keep going deeper into the hills where only the wild plants grow with abandon. A coyote trots up the hill looking calm but keeping out of our way.
As we putt around another bend, it looks and feels different. Jack down shifts and stops. “We’ll walk from here.” I appreciate his concern as we walk the last few yards. Speaking in a voice barely above a whisper, he points to the area to the right of the dry stream bed. Its dimensions are something like 24’x 24’, in a secret cove at the base of the sandstone bluff. There’s a twisted oak tree growing at the top of the canyon. That must be the tree Joe mentioned.
“It also affects the oak trees,” I point out to Jack.
“You might think the stream carved out this area. But you see the opening is small, it’s about six feet across. Once you’re inside, you can see it’s larger. Water would have opened up the entry and washed it away,” his eyes sweep across the canyon walls. “So what else could it be? I’ve ruled out wind erosion since nothing else around here is shaped like this. Monument Valley and Canyon Lands are examples of wind and water erosion. The vortex is unique to this spot,” he points to the entrance.
We move toward the bluff surrounding the entrance. He shows me it’s made of sandstone.
“Isn’t Sedona made of sandstone? I haven’t been, but I hear that some people feel things there.”
“Yeah, it’s sandstone,” he answers, then returns to his explanation. “There’s something else interesting; when you enter the cove the temperature gets warmer. Oh and it’s also a magnetic anomaly! One time I brought a compass inside to test and it went wild,” he turns to look at me. “Now you know as much as I do about the vortex.”
“It’s damp.”
He points to a little spring in the center. “It’s keeping the area wet even in a dry year like this. The water keeps bubbling up. There’s no other water around and it isn’t run off from the hills. Maybe it’s coming from an underground stream. But why would it come up here?”
“Maybe there’s a crack in the bedrock,” I make a guess.
He nods at my suggestion and continues pointing out anomalies. “What also makes this odd, is that when you stay still and look around, there aren’t any birds. There aren’t any lizards… look around. Even the plants are different. There is lichen growing on the walls. It looks like a little prehistoric world in here,” he steps over to the wall and points out little plants clinging to the sandstone. “There isn’t much growth in here, despite the water. You’d think this place would be overgrown with plants and animals coming to get water.”
“I wonder if they feel something strange and stay away,” I muse.
“Do you feel anything yet?” he brings his attention back to me.
I shake my head no. I’m keeping alert and waiting for anything strange.
“Let’s sit over here,” he directs me to a log that’s big enough for two people. “I had this brought in a few years ago. There was a nice old lady who used to come here to meditate. I don’t want it becoming a hang-out, with beer bottles left around, so I’m keeping quiet. It’s a special place, and we don’t know enough about it.”
We sit companionably on the smooth wooden bench. It looks like a hunk of wood that was sanded to remove the splinters. I tell him it’s a nice touch to make it smooth when it’s such a big log. “I haven’t sanded it. The last time I saw this it was just a log.” It’s still a log, but it’s smooth on all sides. It reminds me of the handrails at Disneyland that have been worn smooth by millions of hands.
He reaches over and takes my hand. At first, I think ooh-la-la, he’s getting cozy. But, no. I’m feeling something like dizziness come over me. I look at him and I see he’s feeling it as well. We each give a questioning grin and sit silently. A strong scent of sage comes into the circle, but there isn’t any sage in here. I feel a circular movement of air, the air seems to be swirling. I see the sand moving at our feet. I’m trying not to get creeped out. I clench his hand tighter. Sand swirls faster in the circle. I bet this is how the log became so smooth. I’m getting light headed. Like when you have a cold and your head feels like it’s in the clouds. My thoughts are becoming hazy and I’m incredibly relaxed. I feel like I’m sitting next to someone who will help answer my life questions; that our paths are crossing. This continues and I feel content. I have a knowing feeling that everything will be alright and that everything is alright.
Did time slow, or is it racing? I have no idea. The vortex slowly releases its hold on me. I come out of my ‘drunken’ state with a deep sigh and a smile. After a while, Jack releases my hand and looks at me with a questioning eyebrow.
“Wow, that was weird,” I admit.
I won’t tell him that he’s my soul mate. I will tell him it made me feel relaxed and light headed and gave me some insight into my life. That I had a deep, knowing
feeling that everything is right with my life and I’m on the right path. I realize I’ve relaxed and am not afraid of the snakes anymore.
“Yeah, I’m not thinking about work right now, and it’s given me other things to think about,” he says.
Why does he keep looking at me, then looking away, like he’s trying to decide what to do? Do we have the same destiny of being soul mates, or is it something else? Does it tell you what you want to hear, or does it tell you the truth?
“Did you have any pain before this?” he queries.
“No, you?” I reply.
“Yes, my ankle was sore. I twisted it jumping from the truck.”
“You never told me, I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, it was worth it to be your hero,” he moves his foot and raises an eyebrow, “The pain has gone.”
“Did you smell sage, like I did?” I ask.
“Yeah, I did,” he sniffs the air. “I don’t smell it now.”
“We both smelled sage. Your pain went away and my soul feels better. I wonder if it fixes what needs fixing,” I question.
“I have to decide whether I want to do this again, it’s otherworldly. Don’t come here without me, all right?” he gives me a serious look. “I can see you coming here by yourself and something going wrong.”
“When do you want to try it again? I’ve heard people who work with energy don’t do it more than once a week.”
“I don’t know about this. My ankle feels good, but it’s a little creepy. I did it for my horse and if it helped you, great, but I…,” he trails off, looking uncomfortable. “I haven’t felt it this strong before. The wind came up when I brought Glory in, I lost hold of him and got out, and watched from the outside. He felt something, but he didn’t run out.”
“He felt better staying here, that’s why.” The horse was smarter than the man.
“I may leave this to the old ladies and sick horses. Promise me you won’t come here alone,” he insists.
My eyes look up and to the right, searching for something that isn’t a lie. I need to avoid making a promise. “Yeah, you’re probably right and it’s a long walk,” I add more fluff to lead him away from a promise… “Good thing I don’t have rattlesnake problems all the time. I really don’t need to come back.” Need? Perhaps not, but I want to.
He looks at me with a scowl. I raise my eyebrows and shrug my shoulders. Sorry bud, I’ll be back. Live a little. This is too interesting to let it slip under my radar.
He chauffeurs me home in silence. We’re both deep in thought. I’m planning on taking any sick animal there, to see if I can save it. I need to make this a clinical experiment. I’ll only do it once a week or so. I promise. Ha, there’s my promise. At least he hasn’t forbidden me from trespassing on his land. That would be a little uncomfortable. Especially if I get caught.
We pull up to the barn and he shuts off the engine. It looks like he plans on talking. He turns to face me.
“Jessica, you’re a very interesting woman, I’ve never met anyone like you,” he looks down at the ground, thinking.
“Thank you. My ex-husband told me I was boring. I guess I’m not anymore.” They say you’re boring when you disagree with what they want.
“Boring? He was probably trying to get you to do something stupid.”
Wow, I just thought that… we must be soulmates!
“I’ll be going to France on business. I’ll be away for 10 days.”
“That sounds fun, I went several years ago with my ex. We stayed at bed and breakfasts and got to know the owners. They even asked if I would house-sit their 200-year-old stone fortress the next summer while they vacationed in Biarritz. They had two show jumping horses and didn’t want to leave their care to the help. I felt honored to be asked.”
“Did you go back and house sit?”
“No, the next summer I went to Italy. I didn’t want to return to Paris that soon.”
He gives me an odd look. I think he’d return to Paris.
“I’ll text you to see how you’re doing. Let my staff know if you need anything. I’ll tell them to help you with whatever you need,” he gives me a stern look. “Don’t do anything heroic about Pickett. We may not have his prints on the bag, but he’s the one who left the snakes. Don’t go off alone and don’t sleep in your horse trailer.”
“I promise you that,” I agree.
Jack deepens his look, his pupils dilating. Last night’s passion flickers through my body. He leans in, gently cradling my cheek in his hand. He tastes my lips with his. Slowly, softly, enticingly.
My whole body swoons in response. My spirit sings. It is pure bliss for about a minute until he breaks it off and looks at me with surprise.
“I think the vortex affected me. I should go,” he looks a little pale, or at least he acts pale. He gives me a strong, long hug. “Jessica, I don’t know... I need time to think about things, about this, about us. It’s moving fast. It’s a good thing I’ll be away for a while.”
“Okay.” There’s nothing else can I say.
“I’ll text you and send pictures,” he starts to get out of the car.
“Don’t worry about walking me to the door, I can manage, though I appreciate it.”
Before he turns to go, he takes a long look at me… almost dazed.
Then he drives away.
I think I need to sit down. The haystack makes a good place, it’s sweet smelling and peaceful. So, how am I to interpret this? I go through several possibilities… He saved me from the rattlesnake. He responded and we slept together. I know he liked last night. He took me to the vortex and held my hand during our insight. Then he looked out of sorts after he thought about what he discovered.
Did he have the same insight I had? Does he believe he’s my soul mate?
He looks like he’d had an epiphany and it scared him. I wonder if he feels the same about me, but is afraid of it. He’s such a businessman and he’s in a loveless marriage. He is a genuinely nice man, but I bet he is careful about being chased. Most are after him for his money, status, looks, car and what he can give them. Plus he’s heroic, nice, creative, and loves his horse.
So, I won’t chase him. It’s only ten days. I can handle that. He smelled the sage, just like I did. That means something.
22
More from Mrs. Johansen
Later in the day, he calls to let me know he spoke with Mrs. Johansen. She doesn’t believe Pickett is a bad man. She thinks it’s all a misunderstanding. She said she discussed it with Wayne and he told her I jumped on him in the winery and am now spreading lies. They’re planning on getting married in the fall, which is just around the corner. He has given her an engagement ring. She’s upset that we subjected her future husband to this kind of scrutiny.
“What? Is she demented?” I’m trying not to screech.
“That’s what I’m wondering. Jess, I carefully laid it out. She can’t see the truth. I spoke with the detective and he said his hands are tied. He can’t swear that Pickett only wants her for her money. He hasn’t committed a crime against her,” he grumbles to himself. “Sorry, I was just trying to remember if she has any relatives who can help. I don’t think she has anyone since her husband passed away. She’s been alone since then and she’s perfect for Pickett to pull her in.”
“I know there isn’t anything that we can do. He hasn’t commit a crime, except with me. I bet he says it was all my fault.” A July-December romance after a few weeks. He has a criminal record for fraud, and she’s wealthy and going a bit senile, and thinks she’s in love. Look where love gets her. Suckered and about to lose her fortune. I hope she has her money locked in a trust or gets a prenuptial agreement before marrying him.
“We can’t do anything,” he sighs in frustration. “We know what kind of man he is. He’s dangerous and could do anything from kill her, to convince her to give him large gifts. There is no way of looking into his head to see what he is planning.”
“I wonder if we could have one of
her employees watch them. No, I guess not, that would mess with her privacy,” I reject the idea.
“I’ll send Luke over to meet him, but not actually threaten him. He’ll tell him in a certain way, to watch his step.”
“Luke has a certain way about himself. He’s big, muscular and acts pissed off,” I remember well.
“He perfected the tough-guy act years ago. He’s actually a pussy-cat.”
“Yeah, right. But do you think I should see if I can befriend her and do something? I hate to sit by, but what am I going to do, offer my services as a concerned citizen?”
“Jess, stay out of it. It’s not worth it. We already know what he can do and I’m not sure he’s finished. If it was him. We know he’s a crook. I know people who take care of things, but I don’t want to call in the big guns. It’s not our battle.”
“Okay, I’ll steer clear, it makes sense. I’ll also watch my step.”
“Nothing heroic!” he insists.
“Not unless it falls at my feet,” I agree.
Jack says goodbye once again. I will steer clear of Pickett because I can’t be on guard every second. I have too much to lose with my horses alone out here in the middle of nowhere. I don’t have a bodyguard, nor can I live that way. But still, I hope it ended with the snake incident. It may not have been him, but I don’t think I have any other enemies. I was on the police department too long ago for it to be related unless it is a convict out on parole.
