by Angela Peach
But when we reached the rocks, we both stopped. I remembered his words — to trust our intuition for which way to go, and now we seemed kind of stuck. I tried to summon some moisture into my mouth, but even my eyeballs felt dry. In fact, I'd happily have licked his if I thought there was any kind of fluid on them, and been more than willing to share my own eye juice with him. Had I had any, that is.
Mr Red (I couldn't remember the name he'd told me and had this nickname in my head now) made to shuffle off to the right, but something made me touch his arm and stop him. I shook my head and continued to walk in the same direction we had been to get here, not caring if he followed me – I was on my own mission now. His gentle barefooted steps behind me confirmed he was trusting my intuition over his own, for whatever good it would do.
Yet after over an hour and a half of seeing nothing but rocks, dirt and foliage, my heart began to do a worried jig in my chest. What if we didn't find him? How would we describe where we were to the emergency services, and what reason could we possibly have for pulling such a reckless stunt and needing rescuing?
I stopped walking. Enough was enough. Our lives were at risk now. I turned around to tell Red, and that was how I saw it. In fact, if I hadn't stopped where I did, when I did, we probably would have walked straight on by without seeing it, but see it I did. Goosebumps raised on my scorched arms.
Over to our right there was a small dip in the landscape, and just poking out of the top of the dip was the tip of a teepee. I started walking towards it, hoping this was real and not some kind of mirage created by my hopeful mind, but it just got more real the closer we got.
There was a young woman in her mid twenties smoking a cigarette on a stool outside, and I got the impression she'd been expecting us as she didn't look at all surprised to see two straggly visitors rocking up. If anything, she seemed mightily pissed off. Her long dark hair looked as if it had just been freshly washed and styled, and her plain shirt and jeans fresh on. I wondered how she could look so neat and tidy in such a dusty, wild environment.
Red found some last reserves of energy as we neared and got to her before me, falling to his knees in front of her. She rolled her eyes, unimpressed.
“I'm here to see the Indian. I followed all of the rules, just like I was supposed to,” he rasped, and my eyes watered at how dried out he sounded. Shaking her head as if he'd totally irritated her, she finished her smoke and stubbed it out angrily.
“Follow me.” She glanced at me, curiously. “Not you. Wait there.”
Then they both disappeared into the large (and no doubt deliciously cool) teepee, leaving me wondering what I was supposed to do. There wasn't anywhere to sit, unless I wanted to poach the woman's chair, so I sat on the ground with my back against the fabric and rested my eyes while I waited.
“Here, drink this. Slowly, otherwise you'll cramp up.” I started guiltily as the woman had silently returned and was offering me a roughly carved wooden cup filled with fluid I assumed was water. Her expression had altered dramatically and I couldn't help but stare at the kind and compassionate lady before me as I took a well needed swig from the cup. As it flowed gloriously down my dry throat, I was startled to find the liquid inside wasn't water after all, more a sweet and beautifully soothing elixir of some sort. I tried my best not to chug it back, but the cup was empty all too soon.
“Thank you,” I practically whispered, overcome with gratitude.
“You're welcome. I have some cream inside for your skin, so you won't burn.” She watched me, a small smile playing on her lips. “So where'd you pick that joker up?” She asked, hooking her thumb towards the teepee entrance.
“I saw him walking along the road and just kinda tagged along. Sorry, I hope it was okay for me to turn up?”
“What are you talking about? We've been expecting you! He was never supposed to make it here.”
I swallowed, marvelling at how the elixir was still coating my mouth and throat, but puzzled at her words.
“Me? I don't understand.”
“Mr Red in there was never going to find us, so he musta tagged along with you. At the rocks?”
I remembered how he had indeed been about to head off in a different direction when I'd stopped him, roughly about the same time I noticed her use of my nickname for him.
“How did you...?”
“That's not important right now. In a few more minutes, we can go on in and do what you came here for.”
“What's happening in there?”
“Well, it's kinda complicated. Visitors like you we expect, and know are coming. But there was a time when everyone wanted to come out and see us, with stupid inane questions like is my husband cheating on me, will I get that promotion, am I going to have twins? So we moved a bit further out and made up some rules to be followed in order to be seen by us. Travel by foot from town, no food or water, yada yada yada.” She laughed, a wickedly mischievous look on her face. “Now only the ‘dedicated' make it out to us, so we get them rehydrated, give them a pokey pipe to smoke, and feed them some peyote. Let them find the answers on their own.”
“Isn't that a bit reckless? What if they have an adverse reaction or something?”
She gave me an incredulous look.
“Reckless? These are people who have walked twenty odd miles in blistering heat with no water, I'd say they're pretty reckless already. Anyway, they always go away happy.” She shook her head. “Where are my manners? My name's Mina. It's a pleasure to meet you Nicola.”
I shook her hand, puzzled.
“My name's Nikki.”
“No, honey, it's Nicola,” she said softly. “Don't worry, it won't be long before it all gets straightened out.”
“Will the Indian give me the answers I need?”
Mina frowned, amused.
“No, he just cooks up the peyote for the others. You don't think you're here to see him do you?”
“I...I don't know.”
Everything was starting to feel really surreal and hazy, especially when she took my hand to help me stand.
“It's me that's been waiting to see you. Come on, we can go inside now.”
“I feel...weird.”
“It's called sleepy. You've never experienced that, have you?”
I yawned, finding it hard to keep my eyes open as we went through the small opening into the dark tent. Mina guided me to a pile of what looked like sheepskins on the floor and indicated that I should sit down, so I sank into the plush softness. It was hard to see anything, but I could tell it was a lot bigger on the inside than it appeared to be on the outside.
“Huh. Like the Tardis,” I commented, more to myself.
“I suppose, yes. Nicola, do you remember when you were nine years old?”
“Did you drug me? Was that drink peyote?” I asked, shaking my head against the softness enveloping it.
“No, I didn't drug you, I just have...let's say 'an effect' on people.” Mina cocked her head at me, thinking to herself. “Let me get you another drink, then I think it might do you good to talk rather than me asking you questions.”
She walked backwards into the darkness so I was unable to see her, despite gazing intently. I felt like I was in the depths of some large cave in a mountain, and restrained myself from shouting out to see if I had an echo, mainly because I wasn't sure how I'd react if there was. Also, it was so black in here, I had to blink to reassure myself my eyes weren't closed. On the floor in front of me was a magazine, and I picked it up, thinking how out of place it seemed in here.
“Here. This is the same as before, so just sip it, okay?”
My eyes snapped open, startling me, and I sat forward breathing heavily.
“What's happening to me?”
“You just drifted off for a few seconds. It happens.”
“But, I felt like I was awake!”
“That's what it feels like to dream. You've never experienced dreaming before, have you? Let me ask you something. Do you believe there is anything real ou
tside your perception of reality?”
“What?”
Mina sat on the blankets next to me, and put her arm around my shoulders. It felt kind of safe and I found myself snuggling into the comfort with ease.
“Start at the beginning, and tell me about your life. Not the mundane stuff, the important stuff. The secret stuff.”
“You'll think I'm crazy,” I whispered, knowing I was going to tell her anyway.
“You are crazy. But I want to hear it from your own mouth.”
So I told her. For the first time in my whole life, I told the full unedited version. How I was Nikki for twelve hours of the day, living in Saloam Springs, USA, but every night at exactly the same time, I would close my eyes and wake up as Nick, angry Scot in the UK. We both looked roughly the same, and both loved women, but that was where the similarity ended. Although we shared the same passion for art, I was successful whereas she had failed miserably. Twelve hours in each body, neither able to communicate with the other, nor wanting to.
“Have you ever wondered if this is all real? Or rather, how much of it is real?” Mina asked carefully.
“I used to all the time. But wondering never answered any of my questions so I stopped. Is it real?” I got the feeling she knew more than she was letting on, but wanted me to work it out for myself rather than just tell me.
“Is anything real? Ultimately everything is made up of energy, but it's how we perceive it through our eyes and other senses that makes it 'real' in our minds. You had your first dream a short while ago, and it felt as real as you sat chatting to me now, correct?”
I nodded, frowning.
“So how do you know you're not dreaming now? This feels as 'real' as when you were dreaming, so how can you differentiate between the two experiences?”
My jaw fell open, and I stared at her, completely stumped.
“Am I?”
“Whether you're awake or dreaming, honey, my answer would always be the same. What's more important is to ask if you are really in control.”
I felt a hand shaking my arm gently and turned…
…Opening my eyes as I did so.
“Hey, you drifted off for a second there. Here, I brought you some fruit.”
I jumped up from the floor as Mina crouched down in front of me, holding out a small bowl containing what looked like mango in bite size cubes.
“No! We were just talking! You were sat down with me and...and...what the fuck is going on?” I cried out, feeling completely out of control. Mina put a gentle hand on my arm, squeezing reassuringly.
“It's ok, calm down honey. Come here,” she whispered, pulling me into her arms. I found it hard to breathe and wondered if I was having a panic attack, but allowed her to embrace me only because I needed to feel something solid.
“What's happening here?”
“Whatever is happening to you is what you need to see, or hear, or feel. It's the way it is in here. I can't give you the answers, but you can find them from your experience if you are smart. Some people see what they want to see, or just plain ignore the truth, but that's for them to choose. You've been given the answers, Nicola, choose how to interpret them in whatever way you wish.”
“But, I didn't get any answers, just lots of questions.”
“If you have the right questions, you'll find the right answers. Ask the wrong ones, and you'll only get sent in the wrong direction.” She stiffened, pulling back to look me compassionately in the eye. “Oh dear. I do have something to tell you after all. There will be a lot of death coming your way, and you won't be able to stop any of it so don't try. It's only from the death that you, your true self, can be reborn.”
I blinked at her as an icy shiver invaded my nervous system.
“Who? Who's going to die?”
“We're all going to die. When our time comes, it will always be at the right time.” Mina stroked a red bang away from my face before kissing my forehead soothingly. “Now it's time for you to go. Your bike is outside and you have just enough time to get home before Nick takes over. Good luck sweetheart.”
I opened my eyes and found I was outside the teepee, sat against the canvas in the same position where I'd been when I first got here. I jumped up and ran into the teepee, only to find it empty, and a good deal smaller than how it had been when I'd been in it before. If I'd been in it before.
Mina, the Indian and Red were nowhere to be seen.
Running back outside I stopped dead in my tracks — my bike was on its stand waiting for me with my leather jacket and helmet.
I rode home, crying all the way, and when I closed my eyes for Nick's turn, there were still tears falling.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I woke knowing the slut I shared my mind with had been spreading her snail trail again and I stripped myself of my pants and t-shirt as I made my way to shower clean her animal lusts.
Nikki was like a man: ruled by her sex organs.
I snorted and let the warm water cool my hatred.
Helena had kissed me.
It was not Freya’s kiss.
Helena was married and having a man’s baby.
Helena who had sworn she could never love anyone but me.
My Helena, that I had loved for ten, lonely years was nothing more than a liar, who had fallen with ease down the well-worn path of husband and child.
But I loved her!
Did I? Did I really love her? Could I feel love for someone who let me slip from their life without a fight and never thought to come looking for me, knowing where I lived? Helena had meekly accepted the version of events fed to her by her wealthy, judgemental parents who had never liked me and who disapproved of our love affair.
Everyone disapproved of me except Freya and the woman I called mother.
I had wasted ten years of my life loving a ghost, a woman who existed only in my mind and I began to cry with the injustice and stupidity of it all.
My heart, that I thought so fierce and loyal, was nothing more than an organ of duplicity, tricking me into a loneliness that I surely did not deserve. I had loved Helena and no other. I had not leapt into bed with others, unlike Nikki. I had remained true.
“Until Freya,” something whispered.
“Until Freya,” I agreed, through my tears that wet my face and were drowned by the water of the shower. Almost like my tears were being washed away.
Helena had kissed me and…
Nothing. Ingenting.
Ten years is too long to hold on to passion. And in my darkness, a light had shone in reminding me of the wonder of love and of why I had been so reluctant to let go of what I had once felt.
I stepped out my shower, towelling myself dry, and found a clean pair of pants, clean bra and a t-shirt that declared Joan Jett loved rock and roll.
I found my jeans and boots by the door, where I must have thrown them off in my haste to get to bed, and grabbed my fags, before shutting my door on the snib.
I lit one of my cigarettes, stuffing them into my back pocket, looking at the engraved Zippo. It said: “An end is a beginning.” Helena had given it to me when I was sixteen and thought it was cool to smoke. I used to light my smoke, then blow the flame, seeing it waver and wobble in my wind but still it would burn.
“That’s my love for you,” I’d tell her. “It will always burn.”
I looked at the lighter I had re-filled for the last ten years and I huffed, throwing a big breath to the flame.
It died in my wind.
Nothing lasts forever. I thought it would but I was wrong. Flames die out and new passions ignite new flames. If a love is unrequited it is because it is a love that is not meant to be, otherwise it would surely be requited and celebrated because true love always finds a way.
I kicked my heels past Freya’s door and made my way outside. The rain had stopped but it was still cold and I wished I had put a jumper on. It wouldn’t matter, as I had no intention of being out for long. I quickly made my way to our local park, where I sat on the grass d
ampening the bottom of my jeans. I picked at the daisies that grew abundantly, deftly stabbing holes in their stalks with a fingernail to thread through another stalk. I made myself a daisy chain and placed it on my head, and sat playing with flowers a moment more.
It wasn’t long before I was back at Freya’s door, this time stopping to knock. I felt a flutter of nerves in my stomach as I waited for her to pull open her door and greet me with her alluring smile.
“Nick!” she beamed. “Are you coming in? Oh, I love your daisy tiara,” she laughed.
She was perfect, I thought, drinking in her image. Her hair was loose and tousled, betraying that I had roused her from a slumber. Her eyes were sleepy but still sparkled with interest and her white silken night-dress clung to her hips and breasts, sending a shiver down my spine that jellied my legs.
“I made one for you,” I said, still stood on her doorstep, holding out her daisy chain in my hands, like a sacrificial offering.
She laughed again, happily taking the flimsy flower chain and placing it on her white-blonde hair. It is the simple things that make women smile I have found.
“Thank you, Nick. Come in, please,” she said, holding the door wide but not so wide that my body had to slip against hers as I slid past. Our eyes met for an instant and I felt the blush of my passion spill through my cheeks.
The last ten years of my life had been spent in days filled with hatred and anger, and this is what I had become used to. I had been so consumed with Helena leaving me and threw my pain into anger at the world. Around my ears, my world was dissolving and I did not have enough anger now to fight off my feelings. Finally seeing Helena had wiped away the time between and now I felt empty.
Empty ready to be refilled.
I went into Freya’s lounge where her sofa was, remembering the last time I had sat there the night she had cooked me dinner. I don’t know how long ago that was.
“What is it you are wanting with me, Nick?” Freya asked, padding across her carpet with her bare feet.
