Gold Lame' (That's le-mayy) (Gold Lame' Series)

by C. Pic Michel

  Amelia watched incredulously as the cat morphed ceasing to be a tiger. In its place crouched a large man with skin darker than Jojo’s. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and too baggy pants that he held up with one hand as he started running along the path. He began yelling at the boy upon each pass.

  “Back off, you! Leave me alone!” the man shouted and waved his free arm over his head.

  Jojo paid no attention to his threatening tone. Clearly he felt in control of the situation. Again he blasted through the air toward his target, this time sporting a huge machete in his hand. Darius, the man, stood and prepared to duck when the boy came in swinging. He ran a step and turned to face the boy as he tried to calculate his best avenue for escape.

  As the snail approached more closely, Darius looked over the edge of the path. He looked back at the boy who was toning a battle cry. Amelia sat on the howdah feeling her chest tighten as she watched the man climb over the railing and stand precariously balanced on the edge of the mountain. Jojo and his snail zoomed in for another pass.

  Amelia barely shouted "NO!" as the man jumped up in the air and disappeared beyond the edge of the path. Amelia almost fainted as the snail proceeded over the edge after the man. Amelia heard Darius yelling from below. She stretched herself flat on the howdah and peered over the edge toward the scene. Darius had landed in the safety net and was scrambling toward the edge on all fours. Jojo held his machete high in the air and flew the snail so it pounced at Darius again and again.

  “Stop! Stop!” Darius shouted. “Stop it!”

  “Oooo. Leave me aloooone!" Jojo mocked. "Get a-waaaay!” Jojo impersonated Darius and laughed as Darius fell to the edge of the net, and grabbing on, lowered himself to a treetop disappearing in the foliage.

  Jojo and his snail hovered in the air for a moment apparently watching as Darius fled. Then Jojo turned and directed the snail to return to the high mountain path landing in front of Hrim. As Jojo disembarked his trusty steed, the snail shrank, returning to its normal size. Jojo picked up Dumbo and tucked him on top of his turban.

  Jojo looked up at Amelia, his face bursting with a look of pride that spoke of a job well done. Standing in front of Hrim he asked for a ride. Hrim extended his trunk. The boy sat on the thick limb that curled around him, and Hrim began slowly walking along the path again.

  Amelia glared at the boy half angry for the appearance of a tiger he apparently had manifested, half grateful that he had been able to vanquish the beast.

  “Who’s Darius?” she asked over the top of Hrim’s head toward Jojo.

  “Nobody,” Jojo replied, “just a big ugly nobody.” His small shoulders slumped just a little bit from his brave-chested posture just a moment before. For some reason Amelia didn’t think they were through with Darius.

  Pause, pause, pause…

  I need to spruce it up a bit, Amelia heard Hrim thinking. The howdah shifted under her as it transformed from a simple piece of woven reed to become a much more lavishly appointed settee draped with a silken canopy. A basket appeared on the platform. Opening it Amelia saw it was filled with fruit. Looking over the edge of the howdah Amelia saw that Hrim’s head was covered with an ornately woven tapestry of many bright colors.

  What’s going on? Amelia asked.

  We’re almost there, Hrim thought. First impressions are very important.

  What’s this village like anyway?

  We’ll find out when we get there. Hrim allowed for the imaginings of all involved and continued along the path.

  Amelia let her head fall back against the edge of the howdah. In the distance she could hear music. She was unsure of what instruments were playing. Perhaps a sitar and some sort of a flute? she wondered as she rocked in the howdah watching a slight breeze move through the veils that made the canopy. Amelia listened as the sound of a village filled the air. At the edge of the village she listened as a mother chided her resistant child. As they grew closer in she could hear the calls of vendors reaching out for buyers. She could hear objects clinking together. They sounded like pots and pans in the kitchen of a restaurant.

  Now from beyond the rim of the howdah she could see skinny, colorful, two-story buildings going by. Vendor’s booths were shaded by large colorful stretches of fabric. Amelia sat up just as Jojo came over the top of Hrim’s head and stepped inside the howdah. The marketplace was packed. People in long silken wraps and cotton materials examined the wares and foods available at countless booths that lined the road.

  Though it didn’t seem that anyone took particular notice of Hrim, he moved through the crowd effortlessly, albeit even more slowly as he approached an alley and turned away from the cacophony of marketplace sounds. Amelia looked around. The alley was empty and cool as the buildings on either side provided a clear path for the breeze and also complete shade from the sunlight. A man dressed in billowing black pants and a short vest that opened to reveal his smooth chest stepped out of a doorway. Amelia’s eyes met with his. They were dark and deeply set under thick heavy eyebrows and wavy hair. She felt as if she knew him. He seemed to recognize her. There was nothing about him that suggested anything further. He didn’t smile. He didn’t turn into a tiger. She wasn’t sure he was from her dream and not Jojo’s, so she nudged the boy.

  “Do you know this guy?” Amelia watched him for a moment. Jojo’s eyes were fixed on the man as the boy seemed to study him with distrust. Either Jojo knew the man or just didn’t trust men in general. Something in Amelia agreed with that idea and she wondered if she might actually know the man herself.

  The man approached Hrim and moving to the side of the elephant and guided him to a sitting then lying position on the ground. Amelia and Jojo balanced themselves to and fro through the steep but smoothly executed movements. The man held up his hand beckoning Amelia to disembark the howdah. Jojo scrambled down on his own and looked up at Amelia. She reached out and took the man’s hand. It was strong and supportive. She rested her forearm against his as she stepped to the ground in the gold lame shoes.

  “The Guru has been waiting for you.” The man spoke in a soft accent that seemed not to suit the setting. Amelia followed his lead toward the door then stopped. “What about Hrim?” she looked back at the elephant covered with a white layer of dust.

  I’ll be fine, Hrim reassured her. Amelia looked at the man. Like Jojo, he did not appear to have heard what the elephant thought. Amelia wondered if he could pick and choose who his thoughts became apparent to.

  It depends on where you’re coming from. Hrim attempted to answer. They are not in the same place as you even though they are interacting with you.

  In her mind Amelia heard the voice of Judy Garland once again saying, People come and go so strangely around here. The man smiled and motioned invitingly toward the open door. Amelia looked through into a very dark room. She looked back at Hrim.

  You’ll be fine. He nodded for her to continue. Pay attention and learn.

  Amelia reached out and Jojo’s hand slipped into hers as they disappeared through the doorway. The tall dark man followed after her.

  Pause, pause, pause…

  2 Guides, Gurus, and Guessing Games

  Hrim stood up and shook the dust from his deeply creased skin. A bath would feel wonderful right about now, he thought to himself. He checked up and down the alley to make sure no one was around as a shiver went through his body. Slowly his creased hide gave way and Hrim began to shift from a tall wide elephant to the form of a thin, short man clad in a white cotton robe with sandals on his feet. His bald head shined even though no sunlight was on it directly. His deeply tanned skin retained softer creases to match the age of fifty or sixty years. From beneath eyelids that had long stretched and fallen over his eyes, Hrim looked toward the doorway through which Amelia and Jojo had disappeared. “Be well.” He softly voiced a simple blessing.

  As he started back toward the marketplace another man clad in a similar white robe jogged toward Hrim. Touching him with a friendly gesture on the shoulder
, the man slowed to walk beside him. “Hrim!” The man was happy to see him. “What are you up to these days?”

  “Ah, Jahni!” Hrim embraced his friend. “Same old, same old.” Jahni was younger than Hrim by at least twenty years. His soft sand colored hair was thick and neatly trimmed. His body was slender and muscular under the robe. He seemed to tower by six inches over Hrim as he grinned handsomely toward the old man.

  “Still guiding?” Jahni asked.

  “As ever,” Hrim nodded. The pair stepped out of the alley into the crowded market. As they walked, the crowd parted before them, though none of the people seemed to take any notice of them. It was as if they moved without knowing why, or even knowing at all, that they were making way for the pair.

  “Dreaming or dying?” Jahni asked. Hrim seemed distant. Jahni bent forward to look into Hrim’s face. Hrim looked up and out at the sky.

  “A little of both,” Hrim acknowledged, then added, “Still too early to tell the final tally.” Jahni nodded his head knowingly.

  As they walked beyond the edge of the village the river became visible. Women were gathered on the shore, washing clothes for their families. Nearby a yak was drinking from the edge. A short distance beyond the usual riverside activities, several white cotton robes were hung on the branches of low lying trees and a party of men were bathing in the river. Hrim and Jahni walked upstream to join the group.

  Hrim considered the thoughts he had read in the man’s mind before leaving Amelia and Jojo in his care. The guru will help her, Hrim reassured himself. As Hrim prepared to hang his robe, some green Avadat finches lighted on the branches of the tree.

  “Come,” Hrim invited, and one of the tiny birds flew to his outstretched finger. “And they call you?” Hrim asked for the bird’s name.

  “Binga,” the bird replied.

  “Binga,” Hrim repeated. “Would you be so kind as to pay a visit to Guru Tetta’s house today and watch a friend who is on her journey there?”

  “I am honored by your request, sir.” Binga curtsied well for a bird, pressing her belly to his finger and then sprang into the air turning toward the village.

  “Hrim,” Jahni called from the water, “take a break! They’ll still be there when you are refreshed!”

  Pause, pause, pause…

  The only light inside the house was from the narrow windows that looked out in the alley where Amelia and Jojo had left Hrim. As their eyes acclimated to the dim light, Jojo and Amelia were filled with wonder, each at different sights in the room. Jojo let go of Amelia’s hand and sprang from her side as he raced toward a table filled with food.

  “What’s this?” Jojo pointed to a filled dish on the table.

  “Jojo!” Amelia started to call him back to her side.

  “It is okay,” the tall, dark man reassured her. “He is hungry and the food is for our guests.”

  “Us? You were expecting us?” Amelia asked.

  “Of course.” the man replied.

  “But how could you…” Amelia started to ask.

  “How could we know?” the man completed her question. “Guru Tetta saw you in the distance and made preparations for your arrival.”

  Amelia looked around the room at men and women bustling throughout, arranging cushions and chairs, placing bowls of fruit and vases of flowers on low tables. Incense was burning which filled the room with a rich fragrance. A soft haze of dust from the streets outside floated through the windows on the light. A woman in a blue sari was pouring water from a pitcher into small bowls around the largest table. Amelia felt breathless as she took in the simple beauty of the room.

  “Who is Guru Tetta?” Amelia asked, watching as Jojo sampled from the dishes. She closed her eyes and looked away as the boy pulled something back out of his mouth with a sour expression and dropped it under the table. It’s just a dream, she thought.

  “EXACTLY!” The voice of an older woman boomed behind Amelia, seemingly in response to her thoughts. Amelia turned on her gold lamé heels and managed to catch herself before she tripped. Looking down she avowed, First chance I’m going to check the bazaar and get some more sensible shoes!

  “No.” The old woman interjected and pointed to the shoes. “Those stay. They are important.” Amelia looked at the woman and then at the shoes.

  These shoes are a pain in the, Amelia checked herself, feet!

  “They stay!” The woman dismissed Amelia’s thoughts while slicing her hand through the air in a gesture that finalized the dialog. She brought her hand back toward Amelia offering to shake hands. “I am Tetta.”

  Amelia was speechless as she took in the commanding woman’s features. Tetta was a round, but muscularly tight, light skinned woman with gray steaks running through massive dread locks of black hair pulled around her head and falling loosely down her back. A powerful force emanated from the woman’s eyes, eliciting respect while conveying a deep sense of appreciation.

  Amelia’s escort cleared his throat and, thinking Amelia did not understand she was meeting her host, he bowed quickly toward Amelia and whispered, “This is the guru.”

  “And this is Miguel.” Guru Tetta’s expression revealed her amusement with his attempted subtlety as she gestured to the tall dark man. She turned and extended her hand again to Amelia. “Come.”

  Amelia missed the hand and looked at the dark man. Miguel? she thought. That name doesn’t sound like it belongs in this dream.

  “Well it does,” Guru Tetta definitely replied to Amelia’s thoughts, “and there’s nothing I can do about that. It will connect for you in time.”

  Amelia looked into the woman’s eyes. Finally connecting her hand with Tetta’s, Amelia looked confused. “Aren’t guru’s supposed to be old men?” she asked. A titter of amusement circulated among the people in the room.

  “I can see we have a lot to talk about.” The woman raised Amelia’s hand and led her toward the cushions beside the table.

  The old woman fell onto her cushion with a deep sigh. A soft light fell on the side of her face from the window next to her. The other side of her face dissolved from a sea of wrinkles into shadows. Amelia startled when a chirping bird flew through the open window to land on the table in front of Tetta. The Guru looked intently at the bird as it chirped and hopped around in a circle on the table.

  Tetta smiled and Amelia watched silently as the guru seemed to be listening to the bird’s thoughts. Amelia watched as the woman’s mannerisms seemed to morph between strong and decisive to deep gentleness and compassion. She felt safe in her presence.

  “As you wish,” Guru Tetta said to the bird, “and tell that old fart I said hello when you do.” Amelia looked at the old woman curiously. Not only had she supposed all gurus were men but she also didn’t imagine they would use the word fart.

  “Eat,” the woman invited, picking up a pierce of Chapattis. “You can dispense with the Guru and just call me Tetta.” Her hostess was beating Amelia to what she was about to wonder by only milliseconds. “Guru is a title that simply means that you are here to learn.” Tetta explained the salutation. “Some would still say a woman can’t be a guru,” Tetta mused. “But such politics are not why we’re here.” The old woman brushed the crumbs from her hands and placing them firmly on the smooth surface of the low table, she pushed herself up to stand. “You can’t learn on an empty stomach or without rest, so eat. Elissa here will show you to a room when you are finished.” The guru’s gaze connected Amelia with a young woman across the room who smiled at Amelia. “Jojo will go with Miguel.” She held up her hand to silence the speaking of Amelia’s thoughts of concern for the boy. “Sleep and we will meet later.” Tetta gently bowed a short movement toward Amelia and crossed into the shadows of the room leaving through a distant doorway.

  Amelia looked around, then obligingly reached out for a piece of Chapattis bread. What am I here to learn and how do I sleep during a dream? she wondered.

  Pause, pause, pause…

  “So will you speak to my class?” Jahn
i asked Hrim as they dried themselves on the riverbank. The sun was warm and the breeze felt good on Hrim’s back as he pulled his white robe over his shoulders.

  “If you insist.” Hrim didn’t openly resist the invitation. Hrim preferred field work; it had been centuries since he had been a professor at University. After he took leave of educating the masses who showed up in the sleeping dream he took on individual apprentices who could consciously show up for class, and instructed them in their graduate field studies by giving them roles in teaching scenarios he selected from his caseload. In recent years Hrim had taken up working alone.

  “Hrim, I don’t need to tell you how valuable an hour of your stories could be to my students.” Jahni piped in to the silence which was growing too long. He missed Hrim’s presence in the halls of the most ancient school among all planes of consciousness. Like an aging male elephant, Hrim just didn’t feel like running with the young boys anymore; he knew their tendency to defer to his experience kept them from developing their own skills.

  “Well, perhaps we can make an exchange.” Hrim offered. “I may need you to put on your dancing shoes little missy!” Jahni was reminded of countless rescues during which he played a dance hall girl in the wild west of the newly formed United States.

  “Not fair!” Jahni wrinkled his nose at the thought of all the high noon shootouts when he had played the loser’s girlfriend in order to get him out of the dust and on his way to unfailingly pearly gates or hellfire of bonfire proportions. “I’d rather walk miles of endless highway hitching a ride as an undercover angel.” Jahni dramatically referenced a legendary method Hrim had developed for keeping people out of the Wait Zone when it wasn’t yet their time.