Maya's Aura: The Awakening

by Smith, Skye

  "If their relationship wasn't bullet-proof," Maya pointed out, "Erik would have never agreed. Oh well, at the wedding next Saturday you can truthfully tell your mother that you are sleeping with him. That should get her off your case for awhile."

  "How did you know my mother is on my case?" Emma asked.

  "Because Karl's mother is on his case, and he and you are about the same age. Aging mothers are just grandmas in waiting."

  "So you think there is no hope?" Emma felt her morning happiness slipping away into the fog.

  "Of you carrying Karl's child? I can see that happening. Of you breaking up Karl and Erik, that will never happen."

  "Carrying Karl's child." At first the idea shocked her. She brooded silently, slowly munching on toast and sipping coffee. It would get her mother off her back. His too. No, no, no. Absolutely no to single motherhood. That was too much work. "I suppose there is no chance of you coming with me to interview the child grabber today."

  "Absolutely none. If my testimony was the difference between him hanging or him getting away, then I would; but they don't need me to hang that guy. He was caught red-handed. He has admitted it. Besides, I already told you. He smelled of charred toast." She picked up her next piece of toast. Smelled it, and then put it down again.

  "There is no death penalty in Canada. And a good thing, too, with all these new DNA tests constantly proving men innocent that have been sitting in prison for decades for capital offences." Emma turned to Maya and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Okay, I'll keep quiet about you, but don't you dare hang me out to dry if the police find you."

  "Deal."

  "Maya," Emma said thoughtfully, "you weren't using yourself as bait to catch that guy, were you?"

  "Absolutely not. If anything it's the other way around. If there are guys like that around, they zero in on me."

  "Umm, before I have to go and interview more psychos, do you mind if we go upstairs and do Yoga again? This time I want to try to catch your Lily scent."

  "Oh please, and can I try touching you with my skin this time?"

  "Ooooh, can the boys watch?"

  "Only if they wake themselves up," Maya giggled. "I don't think we will be that long."

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  Mister Li's shop was very quiet. His fifteen minutes of fame were spent. Maya was wearing her plainest skirt and blouse, and had her hair up, and was wearing dark sunglasses. She was trying her best to look like a teacher, not a schoolgirl. It didn't fool Mister Li.

  "I no tell the police," he said, "it was the little girl's mother."

  "What happened to the puppy?"

  "The bad man gave it to the little girl."

  "Mister Li, yesterday when you hit that man the first time, I saw your hand barely touch him and yet he was thrown back two feet. Do you have special powers in your hands?"

  "You never come Sunday to Tai Chi."

  "No, but I have only been here a little while."

  "Yeah, I know, you live with Mister Erik. He's a nice fellow. You do good."

  "But your hands?"

  He spoke some words in Cantonese to his granddaughter sitting at an old table in the rear of the store. She took her time erasing an answer in her homework. Then she gathered up the book, and moved over to the counter by the door where the money drawer was, and carried on with her homework. He then motioned Maya to follow him.

  They went through the store and to the back where there was a steep staircase. He yelled upstairs and there was a faint answer, and then he took her out into the back garden. The single most unusual thing in the garden, in spite of all of the strange Chinese statues, was a hanging punching bag. The big heavy kind.

  "You watch," he said as he stood to the side of the bag and then did a strange almost prayer-like thing with his hands and arms. "First, I center my energy." He did it again. "Then, I focus my energy." He slowly pushed his arms out until they almost touched the bag. "Then, you release energy." The hand moved ever so quickly and ever so slightly, and yet the heavy bag swung wildly.

  A woman as great an age as he came towards them, taking small steps. "My wife show you." He spoke to her in Cantonese, and she nodded and came up to Maya and shook her hand.

  "Good," she said, "you good. Get bad man. In China, execute him." She ran her finger across her throat. "Better Canada, let him suffer long time, like all the mothers must." She went and stood before the heavy bag and stopped it from swinging. Then she centered herself and posed herself and then seemingly barely touched the hanging bag with a one-two. The bag careened wildly and the elderly woman had to step back to save herself from being hit by its back swing.

  Maya turned to the old man. "I have a dangerous power in my hands." She held up her gloves. "Not a muscle power, some other kind of power. When I touch a man lightly on the cheek," she touched her own cheek, "he goes to sleep. When I touch a man hard on his throat," she touched her own throat under her chin bone, "he dies. Can you explain this to me, or, or, can you tell me how to control it?"

  "Power not from jab. Power from inside?" He asked, and she nodded. He explained it to his wife, and they jabbered away for some minutes.

  "Take off glove. Please to touch my cheek." She did so and his eyes fluttered and he started to fall. His wife balanced him. They talked for a while longer.

  "Wife say, your touch may be same on cheek and throat, but in throat is many spiritual centers. Takes only light blow to throat to do much damage."

  "But where does the touch come from? Why are my hands not normal, and safe?"

  He spoke to his wife and she walked away and came back carrying some rubber garden clogs. "You put on feet, then touch my cheek." She did so and again the wife had to step behind him and balance him. They talked some more.

  "I turn my back, wife check you all over. Okay?" He turned his back while his wife ran her hands very lightly, sometimes touching, sometimes not touching, everywhere on her body. Everywhere. She spoke to her husband. Then she turned to Maya again and took one hand in each of hers and then pulled backwards and arched her arms sideways so that the four arms created a circle. She let go and spoke to her husband for a long time.

  "You not suppose to have this power. You gwai lo, you woman. Should not have. This is monk power. Monk train long time for this power. Why you have this power? This is white power. Power for good against evil. Why you no kill bad man? Why you wait for me?"

  "I was wearing gloves. I was afraid of hurting someone by accident."

  "You no wear gloves. You learn control," Mister Li said emphatically. "This is gift from gods. No hide in gloves." His wife spoke to him. "She say not gift from gods, gift from goddess. Fertility goddess. Bah, I don't believe in all these gods. Only one god, one goddess. Sun and Moon."

  "Can you teach me control?" she said. "Please."

  He spoke to his wife. "You come back tomorrow. Same time. You promise you come?"

  "I'll come." She followed the wife back through the shop. On the way, the old woman picked up a plastic bag and ripped it open. When they reached the front counter the old woman snapped open a golden yellow silk scarf, long and flowing.

  "You bless my grand daughter," she said and then said something to the school girl.

  "Aw, gran, I don't believe in that old stuff," the girl said but she shrugged her shoulders and dropping her pencil, slid out from behind the counter. She bowed her head and waited.

  "You bless her," the grandmother said motioning her to take off her gloves.

  With two bare hands she held the scarf forward and hung it over the child's neck. "May you always be safe from bad men," she said. At that moment, it was what she wanted most for all little girls.

  "Good one, good one," said the grandmother and bowed her out of the shop.

  The fog had completely lifted now and the blue sky was clear of clouds and the sun was warm and there was not a trace of wind. She was feeling better than she had felt in over a week. She walked back home, grabbed her beach bag, put on a sun dres
s and ran to catch the next bus to U.B.C..

  She skipped down the long trail to Wreck Beach, but when she was down on the sand she stopped in her tracks. The beach was packed with clothed people. Students. She began the hike down to the far end, the gay end. On the way she stopped for a sandwich at one of the officially-winked-at food stalls.

  "Hey Chiquita, haven't seen you around for a while," said the sandwich maker. He always called her Chiquita when she wore this yellow sundress. "Banana, get it?" he said to the woman helping him. She was the pie lady. Usually she would wander around with a basket on her head filled with slices of her homemade pies.

  "Sorry, love," Amy the pie lady said, "sold out of pie. All those student types snaffled it all before noon. I have some special brownies, but they aren't for hungry people. Small and powerful and give you the munchies something fierce."

  "What is happening? Orientation?"

  "Sort of. It happens every year. About a week into the term suddenly all the first years learn about the nude beach. The guys all come down to see tits, and the girls all come down to meet the guys. The trail end of the beach will be like a normal city beach until the weather breaks. The regulars just move closer to the gays."

  "But there are too many dorks around sitting on logs just waiting for some woman to take her top off. That's gross."

  "Just go deep into the gays. When the dorks try to get close enough to ogle your tits, a couple of the fellas will go and sit beside them and wiggle their winkies at them. They turn around and leave, right quick."

  She sat and chatted to Amy while she ate her sandwich. Amy had sold pies on this beach for ten years. She knew everybody and all the best gossip. "What do you do in the winter, Amy?"

  "I find myself a hot tropical beach and lay there and wait for local women to bring me pie. That's what this beach is like, a third world beach. Lots of roving vendors. Anything you want brought to you. " She pointed to a line of men standing by a huge upturned log. "Marie and Theresa have set up their barber service again today. Look at the lineup. You think none of those guys had ever had their hair cut by a nude woman before."

  Maya said "so long" and walked towards the gay end. Once she reached a point where most of the people were naked, she took off her clothes and walked in the nude. The late summer air and sun felt delicious on her skin. She could feel her aura growing in range with every step.

  She was bumbling along saying hi to anyone she recognized and sensing for other auras, when she heard an angry shout. She turned around to see where the shout came from. It was from right behind her. Four fully clothed guys were following her holding their phones up to use the in-phone cameras.

  The shout was because two nude guys, really big guys who she knew were bouncers at one of the pubs, had come up behind the four and blocked their retreat. Nude men all around the four were now yelling at them that cameras weren't allowed. Sure enough, they had turned around to retreat only to have their way blocked by walking mountains.

  She had seen this before. Either the four would prove that they had erased the photos, or the other men would erase them by smashing the phones. She kept walking, feeling very secure. She was almost far enough away from clothed people to find a spot for her blanket. A few very obvious older heteros were trying to look nonchalant hoping she would settle near them. As if.

  She finally chose a place beside two very white, and obviously first year women who were sunbathing in their bikinis. They shot her a shocked look that said, not only was she all the way naked, but that she had been walking around naked.

  "Hi, I'm Maya," she said. "Stick close to me and I will keep you out of trouble." The women introduced themselves in those annoying little-girl voices. "One hint. If you want to sunbathe at this end to escape all the annoying creeps at the other end, then you should take your bikinis off. This far down the beach is considered nudist, not clothing optional."

  The giggles dried up in their throats, and they started discussing what she had told them, and then started arguing. One wanted to leave, the other wanted to stay. Eventually one took off everything, and the other just her top.

  Even though they were in the center of the gay area, the little enclosure they were in with logs on all sides, was almost all women. There were a lot of unwritten rules on this beach, mostly designed to protect privacy. The only men who settled in this enclosure were coupled. Either with a woman or with another man.

  She saw Randy the beer guy and waved him over. She looked at the two women. They seemed to be mesmerized watching the handsome gay guys that were parading about. "Randy is coming to sell me beer," she said. "Speak up if you want some. He is a safe guy to buy from. He never sells open drinks to women, and doesn't sell open drinks to guys who are taking them to women. He opens them and hands them to you directly. Then it's up to you to guard it."

  "Huh?" they said looking at each other.

  "So no one, like, tampers with your drink. So no one, like, drugs you without you knowing it."

  "Oh, right, yeah, we knew that." said one of the girls. She was feeling really dreamy nice and didn't know why.

  Randy finally got there, after making two sales on the way. "Maya, good to see you. Where is Alicia today?"

  "She has a boyfriend now, and classes. Do you have any IPA left?"

  "Last one," he swung his pack down and looked at the two newcomers. "Anything for you ladies? lager, cider? That's about all I have left." He felt a warmth growing in his crotch. There was something about this Maya chick that really turned him on. "Ladies?"

  Maya took her beer and handed him the money. He had to fumble with his fanny pack to get change. She looked over at the two newbies. They couldn't take their eyes off the size of him. "Give them a peach cider each. I'll pay." They didn't make a sound until he had walked away carrying his pack in front of him, then they broke out into gasps and chatter and giggles.

  Eventually they thanked her for the ciders and fumbled around in their overly large purses and repaid her. All three of them kneeled up to sip their drinks and to be high enough to watch people over the top of the logs. They were kneeling like that chatting when Amy and another woman came to join them.

  "Maya, this is Marique, Randy's friend from Belgium." The contrast between Amy and Marique was stark. Amy was pushing forty and had drooping breasts and a stomach that had pushed out children. Marique was early twenties, had high pert breasts and absolutely no midriff bulge. She had short, curly, light brown hair streaked with blonde, blue eyes, and a perfect light tan all over. Like all over. "Can she join you until I run out of ingredients for sandwiches?"

  Maya agreed immediately. There was something openly friendly about the woman.

  Amy said in a lower voice, "She likes to be nude, but it's like a zoo over at the sandwich shop right now. Too many boys from Burnaby." By which she meant men who would never take their pants off because of what the pants were hiding.

  Maya began chatting with Marique, which was not easy because English was perhaps her fourth language after French, Flemish, and German. Still, she was a delight to listen to after the little-girl squeaks of the other two women.

  They talked about Belgium and California and what they liked and didn't like about Vancouver, and all sorts of other little things. Maya learned that Belgium was a small country between Holland and France, and it was very flat and marshy. Marique even drew a map for her in the sand. Eventually Marique said in her delightful accent, "I hope I do not embarrass you, but I feel very, how you say, infatuated, no, more sexy, sexy infatuated with you."

  "Horny," Maya filled in.

  "Yes, horny, I feel horny for you." Marique said. The other two women were obviously listening because they broke out in silly giggles and made faces at each other. Marique tried to correct what she had said. "Not horny for you, horny around you, do you compris?"

  That set the other women off again, but this time the one that was nude added, "I have to say, that since you sat down I have been feeling incredibly horny as well. I thought
it was because I was being naughty in the nude." She looked at her friend, who was nodding in agreement.

  "I have been told that I have that effect on people," Maya replied quietly. "It can be quite a lot of fun on a nude beach."

  " Omigod, is that why Randy's jumped to attention? That was you," said the nude student.

  Marique was trying to follow the conversation. "Wait, let me think. You are the woman that Randy has spoken of. The one that embarrasses him every time. That is why Amy brought me to you. She plays a funny on Randy."

  "Do you want to see?"

  "Yes, please," replied Marique.

  "Then all you have to do is stroll with me through the logs. We'll go that way past the gay men. It'll be safer." She and Marique stood and strolled slowly together along the lines of nude men lying on towels or sitting up talking with each other.

  "You see them," Maya whispered to her, "they are gay men, yes, but they are still men. When they see how lovely you are they will get stirrings. Once they begin to stir, then this effect I have will exaggerate- you know that word? - exaggerate the stirrings." She smiled at Marique and their eyes met and exchanged very naughty looks. "Okay, that guy is looking at us. Watch." As they watched, the man became suddenly stiff and he quickly rolled onto his tummy to hide it.

  "No, is this true, you do this?"

  "Well you start them, I finish them," Maya explained. This was good fun, and a delightful way to search for others with auras. As they sauntered passed the lines of men, the action was timed like an a chorus line from an old musical movie from the thirties, only instead of waves of kicking legs there was a wave of embarrassed men turning onto their bellies.

  They returned to their towels by a different route. Of the fifty men they had affected, only a handful did not roll over to hide their excitement, and interestingly they were all the older, fatter, balder ones. She sensed no auras.

  Back at the towels, the other women wanted a try, so each had a turn on a different route and Maya got to do an aura search through the entire crowd at the end of the beach. There were none. She was beginning to understand why Erik had been so excited when they had first met. He had been searching this beach for auras for ten years.