Reluctant Activists

by Helena Phillips

  The shopping filled the pantry. It was like giving it a new lease on life! The new sheets were pretty, and it was a pleasure to change the bed again. There was water to wash them, and the sun was shining when I hung them on the dilapidated old clothes line which Homarta blithely assured me Sandro would fix.

  What to wear is far more of a problem when you are specifically trying to attract. But I’d found a soft, white cotton top at the local op shop. It flared out from my breasts and finished with lace at my waist. It hung down at the back. My boots were still wearable, and I’d lashed out on a cute jean jacket. The skirt was old, but it was a pretty mix of jumbled flowers, dark pinks and blues and mustard and grey with panels, and it was just short enough. My spirits had picked up after the shopping day, and especially after the talk with Torrenclar; despite his very abrupt exit. It’s disconcerting when they do that. A hot shower with plenty of time, and all was well.

  By the time Sandro came to the door my anxiety had risen again, but I had it under control.

  “Hello!” he said. He stopped and looked me over appreciatively. My smile was soon crushed under his onslaught. That was much better. All of my body was on fire. The self- control had vanished, and his hands were everywhere I wanted them to be. If he didn’t stop soon though, he was going to be in trouble because he would have to carry me to the car. We were both trembling, so maybe he wouldn’t be able to manage it. He began kissing me softly and tenderly as he moved to recovering control, but the effect on me was even more electric.

  With extreme inner strength, I was the first to step away. That was a delightful conquest over my animal nature. He went to grab me back again but stopped before we both lost it. “Dinner calls,” he said cheerfully. Maybe eating was his first passion after all.

  The food to match the mood, we decided, was curry. He drove over the Westgate Bridge into Footscray, for a change. The restaurant had a small table in a quiet spot. Sitting across from him, I found it difficult to remember what had been wrong. The conversation just flowed. We had to get to know each other. From the beginning. Instead of in the middle.

  “Tell me where your project is up to, Bridey.” He was really interested, not just making conversation. He listened to a discourse on place and culture with keen attention. The meal came, and we ate. The expression on his face became intense. “That’s something I find fascinating,” he said. “Because I have half of my roots in the Middle East, and half in Italy, and I’ve grown up in Australia. I feel like a mongrel dog sometimes. Don’t belong anywhere.” He may feel like a mongrel dog, but he certainly didn’t look like one. He looked like a thoroughbred. We ate curry in silence for a while. Sandro was, of course, the first to finish. “I’m sorry about not listening to you on Tuesday,” he said out of the blue, and again the ground moved under my feet. I kept eating. There was danger of me never getting a full meal when Sandro was around, especially as I’d been doing all the talking.

  Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. To ward them off I said, “You hit me!”

  He grimaced. “I didn’t exactly hit you,” he said. “It was more of a smack.”

  “And the difference is?”

  “Well,” he tried this slowly, “I like your bum. It was supposed to be playful, but I was angry with you.”

  What could I do with that? Being angry may have worked, if it had been possible to resist him. We just looked.

  “Tell me, what did I do wrong? Besides slapping your bum,” he grinned which broke the seriousness for a brief second. “Don’t shut me out.”

  Tonight it seemed possible to talk about it; well, part of it anyway. “After three weeks of waiting and hoping, it was all overwhelming. Hadn’t slept well for days. Shutting you out wasn’t the idea. Just couldn’t get it together. That wasn’t meant to happen.” He was so beautiful. “You seem to make all the decisions, and it makes me feel like I’m being swept along,” I looked up at him, challenging. “It makes me feel completely out of control. It’s scary.” It would have been too hard to tell him about my doubts; and most probably a tactical error as well.

  He went quiet. The longer he was silent, the more anxiety flooded me. If this turned into another mess...I took a mouthful and followed it up with wine. It passed the time and the curry was good.

  “Bridey, I’m too used to doing whatever I decide whenever I think it best.”

  “You are,” I said, making the most of the opportunity. He frowned.

  “Don’t do that, I was agreeing with you!”

  Fortunately for me, and everyone who came in contact with Sandro, his sense of humour usually won. “Let’s make some plans together.” He was impossible. Before long we would be in Ireland buying a house together. I shook my head. He had a very quick temper which was frightening. Having spent my childhood sidestepping anger, I wanted to duck from the glare. He saw it and checked himself. “You don’t always read me right,” he said.

  “Of course I don’t,” I snapped. “I don’t even know you.” Anger worked better with Sandro than withdrawing.

  He leant towards me, took my hands again and apologised. “The idea I had, when it comes to plans, was to ask you how ready you are to not be able to shower at your place for a week or so.”

  The thought was horrible. “You’re not fixing the plumbing! I’ve only just got the water back”

  “Whatever you want.” He sounded cross, so I moved in for the kill.

  “You have no idea what it’s like to be without water, or money, for days.”

  This was maybe true, but a bit harsh. He sat brooding and I let him go, deciding I had the upper hand. Turned out I was right. He looked ashamed, but said quietly, “Actually I do know a little about being without water. Travelling in the desert in the Oman teaches you one or two things about water.” He sat back from me though while he thought some more. I wanted to pull him close but resisted.

  “Bridey, could we have some fun tomorrow, or Saturday, or Sunday,” goodness he’s even giving me a choice of days here, “picking out some tiles for your bathroom. No rush to call in the plumbers. Just whenever you’re ready.” He was doing well. Then he followed it up with “You could always shower at my place for a day or two, if you wanted.”

  The picture came readily of being naked in his shower, and we were lost. All seriousness dropped away. We had to leave in a hurry. The car was parked in the middle of a busy street where pedestrians were plentiful. Sandro decided (well he asked me if it was okay first) we would drive over to Williamstown Beach and take a walk. We could hardly wait to get there. Fortunately it was quiet. He quickly became impatient with the restrictions of the car, and we walked towards the sea. The wind was cool and he went back for my jacket. Removing my shoes, I began running along the edge of the water, the wind in my hair and exhilaration giving me angel feet. All the pent up struggles of the weeks flew away, and it felt like I could run forever. Looking behind me, I was puzzled to see him standing watching, but I kept running, making little leaps into the air and then tried some handstands I hadn’t done in a few years.

  It caught me by surprise with how quickly he made up the distance between us, and throwing me to the sand, he landed on top of me. My hair was flying everywhere catching in his mouth and whipping his face as the wind picked up. Somehow my bra came off. His hands on my naked breasts were light and teasing, and his mouth came down on my nipples making me arch into him. It was all lovely. He rolled off onto his back keeping his hand in mine and groaned. “This is agony,” he said.

  He began to tell me about his recent sex life. It sounds stupid but it turned out to be a good idea. He told me how unsatisfying it had been. There was absolutely no doubt about his expertise. It had been clear from the beginning he’d had lots of practice. Surely he knew how to make it satisfying, but he talked about how long it’d been since he’d felt anything for a woman. “There’s beauty and there’s beauty Bridey,” he said. He turned towards me and propped his head on his hand. “There is something enchanting about you. When I watched
you running, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you, but it wasn’t to have sex with you.” He shook his head and groaned again. “I think I more want to eat you, swallow you, have you so inside me we are one and the same. I want you to melt into me. And then I know I’ll still be unsatisfied.”

  The hungry expression and the love in his eyes took away any doubt the words might have triggered. I stroked his face, and he closed his eyes to feel it from the inside. We were able then to play in the wind to warm up, and we turned back along the beach after deciding to try to keep this going for a month. Neither of us felt too confident it would last that long, but there was nothing at stake if we didn’t make it. “My father took my mother when she was too young, without even thinking about what it might mean for her future. How could she know at eighteen what it might mean for the rest of her life to disappoint her family? Why did he not think about that?”

  “I’m glad he didn’t Sandro,” I said. “Then you wouldn’t be here now with me.”

  “True,” he said smiling, “but the consequences all round were extremely painful for many years. I think, for my father, they’re still going on. I need to know Bridey.”

  To distract him, I spoke about my parents. “At some time in the beginning, they must have felt some of this, but before too long, certainly by the time I was three, my mother’s critical stuff and constant need to control squashed it all. I remember her screaming at him. And then everything would be cold for days. Even when they were getting on, life was always logical. No room for passion. I’m sure they stopped having sex many years ago.”

  “Tell me about your father.”

  Images of a man, completely passive, overtook me, and I wanted to shake them off. “He’s kind, but remote,” I said, “a bit like you really.” He stared after me, because I took off at a very fast run. Well it was fast, but not fast enough.

  “Let me show you remote,” he said when he caught me.

  11

  The Source

  Irri-tat jumped when she realised who was beside her. The guilty cringe brought me back to what she had been doing when I’d decided it was time for a challenge.

  “Oh, Hi,” she said. “I mean hello. Oh dear, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say!” Her discomfort made me laugh which broke into my sadness lifting it briefly.

  “What have you been up to now, Irri?”

  Her gaze swept erratically from the water to the clearing and back again. Puzzled, I followed its path. There, were piles of what appeared to be rubbish in groups all around the pool. The predominant colour was yellow but each included flashes of white with faint hints of orange. Was she turning into a bower bird of a different order? It was a dangerous pursuit.

  “What is this?” I swept my hand around. She hung her head and wouldn’t look at me. “Ahem!” I said to draw her attention back to the question.

  “I’ve just been playing with colours,” she said, uncomfortably anxious to please, and clearly unsure how to address me. It was time for us to communicate more regularly.

  “Irri, I am wondering if you would like to do a little work for me.”

  She twitched, becoming more anxious and uncertain as she contemplated her piles. “Sorry. I was trying to clean up for you around this lake. The colours distracted me. Sorry,” she said again.

  Internally only, the sigh was deep, remembering the purpose of the mission and thinking about how awkward this phase is in my relationship with both humans and the spirits scattered around in places such as the lake. Sitting, I indicated she was to join me. Obediently she chose a rock some distance away and below mine.

  “Come up here,” the invitation was accompanied by a warm smile. “Come and sit beside me.” Well there was beside, and there was beside. It was important to accept what she could manage. “There’s a small project on offer, Irri, if you want it.”

  Her enormous eyes glanced up at me and ducking her head, she muttered, “Whatever you want.”

  “Well it might be something you would enjoy,” I tried. “A challenge, and the chance to spend some time with other Caretakers who might teach you.” To me it sounded like the offer of a traineeship. To her, it was clearly closer to a death sentence. She paled.

  “I like it here.”

  “Yes, I can see you do,” I said, looking around at the piles of rubbish and imagining her fantasies preoccupying her for long periods. It was definitely time to introduce some others into her world. “Irri, it might frighten you at first, but if you trust me you will come to enjoy yourself. It’s not good to remain isolated up here in the mountain for too long. It will do you harm. ” She hung her head. “Come down to Melbourne. There are some folks there for you to meet.”

  “Oh no, please, no!” she cried out in anguish which twisted my heart for her. How could I give her choices when she clearly wanted to stay where she was and that was not in her best interests? She needed growth.

  “There’s a little trouble with one of my Caretakers, and a temporary distraction could help. There are also a couple of humans involved.” Of course she had no idea what this involved and heard only what she wanted to hear. It did not appeal to her sensitive nature.

  Her eyes pleaded with me. “Oh please, don’t make me do this!”

  “Come here!” The order offered no escape route. She approached slowly, and I waited until she was far closer than she wanted to be.

  “Irri-tat, you don’t have to fear this. Come closer.” Terrified, she obeyed. I reached out to touch her, and she fell back a few steps, her legs shaking. What was I, some kind of monster terrifying my subjects like this? “Irri, you may stay here if you please and collect rubbish. But, eventually you will need to take up some challenge, or you will wither and fade away to nothing.”

  “Oh please. Don’t do that to me.”

  This was where she required teaching. “Irri-tat! It will not be done to you. This is a chance to grow, and if you do not take up some challenge you will wither, not because I punish you but because you will hate your life!” Why was I always copping the blame for this stuff when the offer was a great opportunity?

  She was crushed by my tone and too frightened to allow me touch her.

  “How about you give it some thought for three days. Then I will return to see what you have decided. You do not have to do what I am asking. It is your choice.” Yeah, of course it is, she was saying to herself.

  I smiled, but she didn’t notice. She was too busy ducking.

  ***

  Back at the landlord’s squat, Homarta’s garden was wilting as she brooded over Elaris. I took my seat beside her encouraged by her obvious warmth and welcome.

  “Homarta, you have done a great job with this piece of barren earth. It is almost a garden worthy of my leisure time.”

  “Do you have leisure time?” The weariness of heart tempted me to unburden to her, but I was conscious of our disconnection since she had been punished. She felt the wariness. “It must be very difficult for you to lose Elaris,” she said.

  “Not much more difficult than it was to put you here Homarta.” I paused. “Can we recover from this?”

  She was thoughtful for a moment. “If you are asking can I forgive you, the answer is no,” she said. My heart sank, but she continued. “You did what needed to be done. There is nothing to forgive except my choices.” Her voice sounded deeply sad. “The time to think has been painful, yet necessary. I’ve missed you greatly but have done my best to win back that which was lost with you. Will you forgive me, my Eagle?”

  My delight flooded the garden. The plants straightened and the sun appeared from behind a cloud. Yet, Homarta had not finished her confession. “There was no thought of damaging our friendship when I was struck with the possibilities of shaking up some change here. The idea appealed to me. Stopping time was a reaction to the mess I’d made, not a bid for power.” This had been clear to me all along. Homarta was usually comfortable with power. She continued. “Being with humans can pollute us. They don’t see you as we do.”
A shake of my head indicated agreement. “Gradually, I became caught up in attempting to stem the flow for you, rather than trusting to your wisdom.”

  It’s impossible to communicate to you how much this speech of Homarta’s meant to my aching heart. As I stood to receive her, she came into my open arms completely returned to me. We leant into each other, and she began to vibrate with her previous life and energy. Powerful forces restored her powers, and she breathed deeply, a satisfying sound for one who had taken this from her. She put her head on my shoulder and snuggled into me in the way of the past. It was deeply nurturing for us both, and I was reluctant to release her in order to address her future; so I held her close while introducing a new challenge for her consideration.

  “Homarta, would you like a break from this place.”

  She laughed. “Why no, Love. It’s more than satisfying sitting here alone waiting for crops to grow.”

  “It has been a hard four weeks for you.”

  “The loneliness has been more for your companionship than anything. Being out of step with you tortures me. ”

  Her reconnection would now mean returning to active duties more to her liking.

  “There is a young spirit who is terrified of me.”

  She laughed again, a rich throaty chuckle. “How could that be?”

  “Am I so terrifying?” There was of course no possible answer to the question. While still holding her against me, the proposal was presented. “Irri-tat! You may remember her. She is not doing so well up there alone in the mountains. She could do with some company. My plan was to bring her here myself, but she won’t allow me to touch her, and she’s unwilling to come. Would you go to her please? If she will allow it, bring her back with you and introduce her to these folks here. It is my belief Bridey and Sandro and Flagran will bring her to life.”