“Maybe there’s another way to see it. How did he see it?” asked Mae.
“That I was some tacky little slut with bad clothes who was more fun in bed than his wife?”
Mae shook her head. “Replay the scene. What did he say to Esther? What did she say to him?”
“That I had undeserved fame,” said Addie.
Mae held out her hand and replayed the scene in which Ted and Esther discussed Addie in the sanatorium. Ted was speaking, “She just needed me so much. She was like this little lost child, and something in me couldn’t resist.”
“So,” said Addie, defiantly. “He liked the fact that I needed him. What man doesn’t like that?”
“Some men are better fathers than others,” said Mae kindly.
Addie scowled, unwilling to continue the discussion.
“You could send him and Esther some love,” said Cerise.
“I can’t send love I don’t feel,” said Addie, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. “Besides, you saw Esther and what she became, how much she hates me now, the revenge she desires even though ultimately she won. How is that forgiveness?”
“Do you really think what you saw is a true vision of Esther now? Or is it just how you expect her to be?” asked Mae.
“We all saw her, didn’t we? Didn’t Long Feather have to shield me from her psychotic wrath? It clearly wasn’t just in my mind. I am grateful, though, that the battle with Ted wasn’t prolonged. But then it was in Esther’s best interest to cut Ted loose from me. We did have that amazing chemistry after all and I’m sure she didn’t want to risk a reconciliation between us.”
Addie paused a moment to consider all she’d just witnessed, then murmured softly, “It’s too bad, though.”
“Yes, it’s terrible to endure so much strife,” said May calmly. “Can you forgive him for hurting you?”
“No, I meant too bad I didn’t know it wasn’t Artie who liberated Lissa and my money. I’d thought he was my knight in shining armor, my rescuer, but apparently all he did was prepare some documents. And I got stuck with him.”
“We’ll deal with him soon,” promised Mae, “But for now can you let go of your anger, forgive Ted and Esther for hurting you?”
Addie shook her head, but in order to move the proceedings along, she said wanly, “OK, I forgive him, forgive them both.” She looked down, not wanting to gaze into the eyes of her guides. It was terribly frustrating to review her life with this group, and she regretted a loss of solitude. Could she ask them to back off and let her be for a little while? Would that be allowed?
When Addie raised her eyes, they were gone! Had they heard her thoughts? There really was no privacy here. It was truly dreadful.
Suddenly she saw him! He was a man who appeared to have been carved out of charcoal. Like a graphite Gumby figure, all in dark gray, he loomed toward her, a smile on his face, a bouquet of ashen flowers in his hands. The man was surrounded by a gray cloud and his image shimmied, fading and reappearing uncertainly. There was nothing heavenly about this demon, and Addie began to shake.
It grew deathly cold all around her, and Addie shivered as though her teeth were chattering. Was this some hellish phantom? An escort to another plane? She shuddered in terror, wishing her guides would reappear and save her from certain doom.
The man reached toward Addie as she stepped back. His hand outstretched, he offered her the bouquet, which crumbled into pulverized ash and fell to the ground. His eyes grew wistful, and suddenly Addie recognized him.
“Addie,” he said simply.
“Get away from me,” she shouted, holding her hands up to block any further approach, for she knew it was all deception, some form of hellish entrapment. “Get away. No! Get away from me!”
Suddenly her guides faded back into sight, and they flanked her. Each reached lovingly to the man before her, bathing him in a sparkling shower of light. Only briefly did his ashen demeanor brighten, and for a short time she glimpsed the tortured face of the man she’d known so well.
“Addie,” he pleaded.
“Don’t come near me!”
He stood before her, his head bowed, and dissolved, blowing away like ashes on the wind. Addie collapsed to the ground, wrapped into a tiny ball, her arms around her knees, rocking and sobbing.
CHAPTER SIX
“What a fool I’ve been! What a dupe! This is no afterlife, no entryway to Heaven. This is Hell! How could I not have seen it?” Addie remained on the ground, rocking in a tightly clenched ball, ranting in one long stream of words. “Hell, I’m in Hell. It’s just so obvious. Where else would I be? Where else could I be? Where else would he be, here dragging me into Hell with him, for whatever eternity is. Does anyone think charcoaled guys are in Heaven, in the afterlife, whatever that is? Nobody thinks that because it’s not fucking true. See—I said fuck, and nobody could say that in Heaven. This is Hell!”
Addie’s eyes glowed violently, and in a rage, she stood, glaring at her guides. “And you—spirit guides, or whatever you call yourselves. Well how the fuck would I know that you’re the devil? I saw Hitler didn’t I and a bunny who was really just Hitler, and you’re probably Hitler too, or the devil. You’re not angels, hah, clearly not angels. Everyone knows what angels look like and you don’t look anything like that. Just a cheap costume party, cheap trick. Under those outfits you probably have horns and long red tails and you’ll probably just morph into one big devil and start whipping me. I’m on to you now.”
Addie raced away, looking back angrily toward her guides, who for once didn’t remain beside her, and shouted, “Don’t you follow me. I’m getting out of here. Protect me—ha—like I’m going to believe that from the likes of you. Don’t come near me. Stay away, I’m getting out of here. There has to be something other than this. I WILL find it.”
Her pace quickened as she moved more speedily forward into the void that surrounded her, but in front of her lay nothing but emptiness. At least she was moving, was once again taking matters into her own hands, rather than standing there pointlessly rehashing her disastrous past. It felt better than anything had since she’d been taken prisoner in this hellish place. She laughed briefly, but kept on walking. Could one describe Hell as hellish? Who cared!
She glanced back over her shoulder and there stood the Hell posse, looking sympathetically toward her, but she wasn’t fooled. Of course they were going to look sympathetic. If they glowered, it would be too easy to unmask them. At least they weren’t following her.
Addie swiveled her head forward and realized there, looming in front of her once again, he stood, his ashen countenance terrifyingly bleak, the smile on his face more gruesome to behold than if he’d snarled or spit embers at her. “No,” she shouted, once again holding out her hand to block him from coming any closer. “NO! Get away from me! Come no closer. Be gone!” Her voice sounded reassuringly confident, almost Biblical, and anyone would be afraid of her, wouldn’t they? “Disappear, I say, disappear. I want nothing to do with you.”
Addie turned and began running in a random direction, hoping the hellish apparition would once again dematerialize but it seemed that no matter in what direction she raced, he easily floated alongside her, smiling and reaching toward her, his eyes glowing softly, in what she knew was a demonic plan for her annihilation.
The terror mounted in her heart, and there was nobody to turn to. The devils stood where she’d left them, benignly smiling toward her, apparently relishing her imminent obliteration. She would be a slave in Hell, and there was nobody to help her. What would it mean? What would happen? Was there death beyond death? No, probably not, but there could be misery, surely, worse misery than had already been visited upon her. Addie began to sob and pant, speeding wildly in random directions and back again, covering so much ground, on ground that didn’t even exist.
Who would help her? What about that Chinese goddess who’d come earlier? Was she too the devil? She’d seemed so pure, so kind. Before Addie could even recall the name, no
t needing even to whisper it, Qwan Yin appeared, alight with love, and she enveloped Addie in tender arms, her handmaidens flanking them and surrounding them with radiant streams of joyful music and sparkling incandescence. Afraid just to surrender to the joy of being held, Addie scanned the area around her. Had he gone? She couldn’t see him, so that must mean he’d been scared away and if so, wouldn’t that mean he was a demon and this goddess was a true spirit, someone safe?
“Am I in Hell?” whispered Addie, too terrified to say the words aloud.
Qwan Yin laughed, still holding Addie in a comforting embrace. “You’ve put yourself in hell quite a few times, haven’t you?” she said in a voice that was more music than speech, “But as for there being an official Hell, a place on a map, do you really believe such a place exists?”
“I’m being tormented right now, so yes, this is it.”
“It is hard to see the truth sometimes, and you know this from your work, am I not correct?”
“No, you are exactly right,” said Addie, still quite hysterical, “But I am being haunted, pursued, tormented.”
“You’re just afraid of looking back. There are things you’d rather leave cloudy, but if we let you do that you won’t be able to move forward. You can read a map, can’t you?”
“A map, like of Heaven? Where I could pick where I want to go?”
Qwan Yin laughed again, a sound as perfect as flowers opening their petals, and she said, “No, a map on earth. What’s the first thing you must know before you find where you’re going?”
Her head throbbing, Addie could barely manage an answer, but said, “You have to know where you want to go.”
“Yes, true, but don’t you have to know where you are when you start? You must know where to put your finger on the map, where you’ve begun, so you can see in which direction to turn.” Addie remained perplexed as the goddess continued, “And now we’re trying to help you see where you are. Soon enough you will find it easier to see more clearly. You’ll stop resisting, stop drawing the clouds down closer over your eyes. You’ll release the clouds and open your eyes. And then I’ll return and you’ll walk right through me.”
“To a better place?” asked Addie, terrified.
“To where you belong.”
“You mean to Hell?”
Qwan Yin lay her hand gently on Addie’s head and let it rest calmly there for a moment. “No Hell,” she answered.
“Then if there is no Hell, is there no Heaven?”
“There is life in different forms,” said Qwan Yin, “Energy intermingling with matter. Spirit beyond matter. Love, joy, togetherness, experience, reflection, giving and receiving. Right now you’re in the afterlife, but you know this already.”
“If there’s no Hell, is there no devil?”
“There is spirit detached from love, but love is always there ready to be reclaimed.”
“So if there is spirit, there is God?”
“Yes, of course, the central force of life, the pure light of love at the heart of everything.”
“But I never understood at all, not religious at all, but if God is perfect, and He created everything, and it is all such a mess, then wouldn’t He be disappointed, not just in the creation but in Himself? That He had failed and had not produced perfection. And if all this imperfection came from God, then how can He be perfect? And if He and only He is perfect, then isn’t being God so terribly sad and lonely? None of it ever made sense to me.”
“Why not just think of the universe not as something that has been created, but something in the process of being created, a dynamic work in progress.”
“So I will not go to Heaven. Nor to Hell.”
“You will go where you belong. You’ll know when you’re ready, and when you’re ready you’ll be without fear. For now, you must trust those who are here to help and guide you. Let them give you the love you need, trust them to help you open your eyes.”
Addie’s lips quivered as she spoke, “But I just know I will be destroyed.”
Qwan Yin laughed, hugging Addie more tightly. “You tried to destroy yourself, didn’t you? But aren’t you still here? Nothing created is ever destroyed, just transformed.”
“People are sometimes punished, I just know it.”
“You punish yourselves. You act and react and fall into bad habits, like dancers who have learned the steps incorrectly and constantly repeat them. That’s the point of what you’re doing now—retracing your steps, so you can rechoreograph your dance.”
“I can’t help it, I don’t feel safe.”
“That’s where the trust comes in. What do you say to a child at the doctor for a shot, that it will hurt a little but will help much more.”
Addie took a breath and considered the situation. She knew that she could stand here in the arms of this woman, who to her was the most pristine vision of absolute purity she had ever encountered, and she could have as much time as she needed. Qwan Yin would not leave her. It was utterly comforting and Addie wanted so much just to remain where she was, cosseted in angelic arms, seeing nothing of her own dreadful life, just here enveloped in perfection. But she knew more was expected of her, and she would hate to disappoint someone who clearly loved her so much.
“No,” said Qwan Yin, “Don’t do it for me. Do it for yourself. It will be worth it, I promise you.”
Addie bowed her head, ashamed to have had her thoughts read, but Qwan Yin squeezed her arm, then unleashed a torrent of sparkling light, marking off a huge area surrounding Addie. “See, you have here a safe zone. You were always safe, but now you see the evidence of it.”
Addie nodded. “Thank you so much. I love you, Mother,” she said, without thinking, then glowed with embarrassment.
“You are my child,” said Qwan Yin serenely, “Think of me or call my name and I will come.”
As Addie watched Qwan Yin dissolve into the ball of whirling colors, she was once again surrounded by her guides. She looked into their eyes and said, “I’m sorry.”
“We know,” said Cerise.
Addie clenched, watching herself at nine, expecting to see replayed before her something utterly horrific, but instead she was in the Bonnet house, being given a bed in her friend Joanie’s room. Momsy, as Addie had always called Joanie’s mother, was piling clothes on the bed. “We’ll buy you some new things of your own soon, I promise,” she said kindly, “But for now these should fit you perfectly.” Joanie was twelve and there were many pretty things she’d outgrown that Addie was delighted to have. Nobody had shopped for her in quite a while and her own clothes were now old, and too small. Tears filled her eyes as she surveyed the pile on the bed. Momsy reached out and wrapped Addie in her arms and held her very tightly. “I know you’re scared,” she said, “And that you miss all your own things. You’ve gone through something terrible. But you’re safe here, so don’t you worry. And we’ll get you a nice doll and a bear or bunny too. But for now, how’s this?” Momsy offered her a pink bear that was a little worn but very snuggly, and Addie clutched it tightly, knowing it was one of Joanie’s favorites.
It felt different to be seated at the Bonnet dining table, even though she’d eaten there a million times. The chair she had always sat in was now hers permanently, between Joanie and Momsy. Across from the girls sat Joanie’s two younger brothers, often squirmy, frequently dusty, usually in trouble. Joanie’s dad was always making jokes, and everybody always laughed. That’s what they did in families—they joked and laughed. They ate dinner. Sometimes they had barbecues and aunts, uncles, and cousins joined in. When it was somebody’s birthday, there was always a party. Addie wondered if there would be a party for her in July. Maybe Momsy would bake her a cake, with mountains of that gooey white frosting she loved. When she thought of all these little things, Addie was so glad her life had changed, but she couldn’t stop and focus on that for too long. Wasn’t it enough just to be happy without thinking too much about how and why?
When Joanie was fifteen, she met the love of h
er life, Paul Hamilton, and she decided then he would someday be her husband. Addie spent hours in the bed beside Joanie’s listening to plans of marriage, of the children they would have, the wedding, the dress Joanie would wear, the dress Addie would wear, the house they would live in. “But then we won’t have a room together any more,” said twelve year old Addie.
“You’ll always have a room in my house, don’t worry, you’ll see,” said Joanie.
At sixteen Joanie was grounded many times a month, but she always managed to sneak out, spending late nights with the boy whom she called her dream man. Addie grew terrified and decided she must always be on her best behavior. Momsy had to punish her own child, but what if she didn’t bother to do that with Addie, what if she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble, that Addie wasn’t worth the effort? She had to be perfect, the good girl, the one who never needed to be grounded.
Joanie managed to graduate from high school, but she was pregnant and already married, having eloped the moment she missed her period. “It doesn’t matter at all,” she’d said to Addie, “You can have the big wedding and the fancy dress. I just want to be married.” Addie knew that Momsy was disappointed in Joanie, and she tried even harder to be the perfect girl. She got the grades, the scholarship, and she was now the only daughter in the house. Joanie had moved to a little apartment with her new husband.
“I was so happy there,” said Addie to her guides. “They were my real family, where I truly belonged. They were what a family should be.”
“Then why did you worry so much about being good?” asked Cerise.
“I didn’t worry. I just wanted to try harder than Joanie did.”
“Why did you have to try harder?”
“So I could be a Bonnet, not a Penny.”
“But if they were your real family, weren’t you one of them?”
“It’s not like they adopted me or anything you know. I just lived there. I couldn’t alienate them.”
The Sportin' Life Page 27
