Priestess of Paracas

by K Patrick Donoghue

  “Five, maybe ten minutes.” Anlon described how Pebbles seemingly finished the drawing but then picked up her pencil and added onto the picture before she conked out. “She inserted a symbol. I’m not sure what it is. Hopefully, when she wakes up, she’ll be able to tell us. She also added a necklace on the other woman.”

  As they turned to join Jennifer, Sanjay asked, “What did you make of her rendition of the other woman?”

  “Her head, you mean?”

  “All of her.”

  “Looks like the kind of woman you wouldn’t want to cross, with or without the alien-looking conehead.”

  They arrived at the chest. Standing alongside Jennifer, Sanjay peered down at the completed drawing, “Yes, that’s very telling, don’t you think?”

  “What’s telling?” Jennifer asked.

  “We were talking about the other woman,” Sanjay said. “If one ignores the idyllic oasis-setting, the full-frontal nudity, she looks like a field general outlining a battle plan.”

  “She definitely doesn’t come across as a wallflower, that’s for sure.” Jennifer turned to look at Anlon. “Which is weird, because Pebbles isn’t a wallflower either, but she totally drew herself like one.”

  “Yes, that’s what I mean when I say the depiction of the other woman, of both women, is telling,” Sanjay said. “We have journals full of Pebbles’ dreams portraying this other woman fleeing in fear, yet she exhibits no fear in this picture. Quite the opposite. On the other hand, we have Pebbles, whom you have both described to me as being a scrapper, a fighter, and she is very passive in the drawing. It is a complete role reversal.”

  “I noticed the same thing.” Anlon waved his hand over the drawing. “Is it possible we’re misinterpreting the picture?”

  “How so?” Sanjay asked.

  “Maybe it’s a reflection, a reverse image.” Anlon paused, then said, “When I first looked at it, before the inconsistencies began to bother me, I saw it as Pebbles seeking guidance from the other woman. But the more I study it, I wonder if it’s the opposite. I wonder if Pebbles drew this picture, not for us but for the other woman.”

  “Say what?” Jennifer frowned.

  “You are thinking of the symbol Pebbles added,” Sanjay said.

  Anlon nodded. “Exactly. I think she may have created the picture to say to the woman—”

  “Oh, my God. That’s it,” said Jennifer. “Pebbles used the picture to tell her to buck up…to get her shit together.”

  “Something like that.” Anlon smiled.

  “It is an interesting theory, but I am not sure I agree,” Sanjay said. “When Pebbles and I discussed projecting a safe haven into her dream, the purpose was to coax the woman in her visions to reveal why she is frightened, why she is fleeing, what she is protecting. From what Pebbles said to us earlier, she seemed to believe she had all those answers…before she drew this picture.”

  “What picture?”

  The three turned to find Pebbles standing behind them, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Through the gap between them, she spied the open sketchbook. Anlon stepped aside while Jennifer and Sanjay backed away. As Pebbles edged forward for a closer look, she said, “Oh, my.”

  CHAPTER 9: FLASHBACK FURY

  Aboard Sol Seaker

  Kona Kai Marina, San Diego, California

  September 19

  Curled into the corner of the sofa, the blanket now resting over her legs, Pebbles watched Cindy Tanner enter the living room pushing a breakfast cart. As she approached the sitting area, Anlon closed the sketchbook.

  “Thanks, A.C.,” Pebbles said. She covered her blushing face. “I can’t believe I drew that.”

  As Cindy began to pour out coffee into waiting cups on the tray, Sanjay asked, “You do not remember drawing the scene?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, I think it’s beautiful,” Jennifer said.

  Pebbles accepted a saucer and cup from Cindy before answering Jennifer. “Would you feel the same if it was your privates on display?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Uh huh. That’s what I thought.”

  With the coffee distributed, the white-gloved Cindy readied a tray holding spoons, a cream dispenser and sugar bowl.

  “To the best of your recollection, was the drawing an accurate depiction of your dream?” Sanjay asked.

  “A little too accurate,” Pebbles mumbled as she poured cream into her coffee.

  “So, you were both naked in the dream?” Sanjay asked as a follow-up.

  “Not at first. Well, I think I might have been from the get-go, but Citali wasn’t.”

  “Sit-who?” Anlon asked.

  “Citali, like Italy with a soft ‘c’ in front. That’s her name,” Pebbles said. She darted a look up at Cindy as she replaced the cream dispenser on the tray the stewardess held out. “Sorry we’re subjecting you to more talk about my psycho visions.”

  “Hey, don’t say stuff like that,” Anlon said. He patted Pebbles’ knee. “Neither you nor your visions are psycho.”

  The blushing Cindy moved quickly to the opposing sofa to offer the coffee add-ons to Sanjay. While he spooned in some sugar, he said, “You were saying that Citali was dressed when the dream began.”

  “Yeah, just like all the other times I’ve had the desert dream. She’s in rough shape, kind of staggering across this huge rocky wasteland.”

  “When did the oasis come into the dream?” Anlon asked. “Before or after men start chasing her?”

  “Before. Sanjay suggested inserting the oasis into the dream before the stress part of the vision.”

  “What was she wearing in the dream?” Sanjay asked.

  “Same tunic-dress she has on in most of them. But in this one, it’s nasty. All stained and torn. She reeks pretty bad too.”

  Jennifer sat up and placed her cup on the coffee table. “You’ve never mentioned the tunic was stained before, or anything about her being stinky. See, this is why we need to set this all down in your dream journal before you forget stuff.”

  Pebbles rolled her eyes. Sanjay pressed on. “So, when did she take the tunic off? And did she seem bothered by it? What I mean is, was she embarrassed to be naked in front of you?”

  With a frown forming on her face, Pebbles said, “You seem pretty infatuated about her getting naked.”

  “It’s a potent symbol in dreams. If she seemed upset by being seen without her clothes, it typically would mean she feels vulnerable. If she seemed comfortable, at ease, it is a sign that she feels confident.”

  Pebbles glanced at Cindy, who was now readying a basket of muffins on the cart, and then back at Sanjay. “So…I don’t know how to say this without it sounding super weird, but…”

  “But what?” Sanjay asked.

  Pushing off the blanket, Pebbles uncurled her legs and scooted forward until she was perched on the edge of the sofa. She looked at each of her friends and said, “The moment the oasis formed, the dream stopped. The whole time we were together, the whole time we were talking, it felt real, like being with Malinyah. You’ve met her, Sanjay, you know what I mean.”

  “The experience of meeting Citali was different than what you experience in your dreams?”

  “Exactly.”

  “In what way?” Jennifer asked.

  Pebbles turned toward her. “Well, both feel real, but in the dreams, I don’t ever feel part of them. You know? I’m someone else. I’m her. Everything that happens is about Citali. But, in the oasis, I was there. I was interacting with her.” Pebbles redirected her gaze at Sanjay. “What I’m trying to say is that Citali, her consciousness, is inside my head. So, when you ask me how she felt about taking off her tunic like the answer is some kind of symbolism, I can’t tell you. Because it wasn’t a dream. It was a real interaction with a real person.”

  Sanjay listened, nodding at intervals. When Pebbles finished speaking, he said, “I think I understand what you are saying. In the dreams, you see and feel what she sees and feels. But in
the oasis, you observed from your perspective, not hers. So, you do not have a sense of how she felt about removing her tunic.”

  Cindy began to cough and excused herself from the room. Pebbles could not be sure, but she thought she heard Cindy giggle before she started coughing. As she watched Cindy leave, she answered Sanjay. “Well, that’s not entirely true. I could see her reaction when I suggested she take it off.”

  “Ah…so you encouraged her to remove it.”

  “Yeah. So what? She looked hot, dirty and tired. I thought she would feel better if she took it off and came in the water with me.”

  “Whoa. Wait. You were in the water? Your picture shows you two sitting by the pond, not in it,” Jennifer said, her pen poised above her notepad.

  “Well, first, we swam and talked for a while. I thought it would cool her off, make her feel better.”

  Jennifer turned to Sanjay. “Can we just start at the beginning and go through the dream…excuse me…the oasis meeting…from the top? We’re missing important details jumping around like this.”

  “I agree with Jen,” Anlon said. “I know you want to skip to the end, Pebbles, and talk about what was in her bag, but we could use some context.”

  With a huff, Pebbles said, “All right, all right. Just quiet down so I can concentrate.”

  She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths while she revisited meeting Citali.

  The water was cool, refreshing, the scent of the flowers pungent. The chirps of the birds were melodic. Pebbles closed her eyes and treaded her legs in long, slow strokes. “I’m telling ya…you’ll feel so much better if you just come in.”

  With her eyes shut, Pebbles could not see the white-haired woman standing at the pond’s edge, but she could hear her labored breathing. She could feel the woman’s aching muscles and weary mind. Pebbles’ feet throbbed with the pain of the woman’s swollen cuts, and her throat burned with thirst.

  When the woman first came into view, her appearance had shocked Pebbles. Not because of her haggard condition — Pebbles already knew she was withering from the desert’s cruelty —but because of her physical attributes. From her deformed head to her snow-white hair and its sharp contrast to her dark tan, to her MMA-fighter-toned body and glowing tiger-orange eyes, she looked like a circus freak.

  Pebbles imagined a barker calling out, “Come one, come all, you’ve seen the elephant man, the two-headed sisters, the bearded lady, but you’ve never seen an attraction like this! Is she an alien half-breed? A mutant from an experiment gone wrong? Or something more sinister — a demon among us mortals? You be the judge…”

  But Pebbles knew she was none of these things. She was just a woman, scared, tired and all alone.

  Cupping her hand, Pebbles pooled water in her palm and sipped. The burning in her throat began to subside. She took another drink and opened her eyes. The white-haired woman fell to her knees and stabbed both hands in the water. Forming a bowl with them, she gulped and sloshed down several handfuls. After the last of them, she looked up at Pebbles.

  “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” Pebbles said.

  The woman nodded. “Who are you? Where am I?”

  “My name is Pebbles. What’s yours?”

  “Citali.”

  “That’s a pretty name. Prettier than mine.” Pebbles reached out her hand. “Won’t you come swim with me, Citali?”

  “Where are we? Where is this place?”

  “I made it up in my mind. Do you like it?”

  “You are a sorceress.”

  “No…I’m just me.”

  “You are marked like a sorceress.” Citali pointed to Pebbles’ neck and shoulder.

  Gazing down at the Japanese symbol representing the word strength on her shoulder, Pebbles said, “Oh, those. They’re just tattoos. I’ve got more.” She held up both wrists. She floated onto her back and pointed to her pelvis and ankle. “Kind of like the gold paint you sometimes have on your body, only these don’t wash off.”

  Citali rose up and stepped back. “How do you know I wear gold paint?”

  “You’ve been in my dreams. Have I been in yours?” Pebbles lowered her legs and glided through the water toward Citali.

  “Dreams? What dreams?”

  The closer Pebbles got to Citali, the farther the woman backed away. Pebbles halted and treaded in place. “Dreams of you running away. Of people chasing you. They want what’s in your bag.” Pebbles pointed at the bag resting on Citali’s hip. “What’s in there, anyway? Why are people trying to take it from you?”

  Citali pulled the bag up to her chest and clutched it. “I was right. You are a sorceress!”

  She turned to flee. Pebbles cried out, “Please don’t go! I want to help you.”

  “You cannot help me. It is too late.”

  A mist formed beyond the oasis, a mist into which Citali disappeared.

  “Then stay and help me!” Pebbles shouted. She watched the mist grow thicker. “Please!”

  She waded to the pond’s edge and crawled on her hands and knees onto the sandy bank. Head lowered, she whispered, “Tell me why you’re inside my brain. Tell me how you got there.”

  A thin voice whispered back. “It cannot be. I am dead.”

  Pebbles looked up. Though she could not see Citali through the mist, she could feel her presence. “I know, Citali. She put your mind on a stone. The same one she put my mind on. Our memories, our consciousnesses, got mixed up together.”

  “What do you speak of? She? Stone?”

  “She suffocated you, didn’t she? In the mudbank of the river.” Pebbles collapsed onto the sand and rolled onto her back. Covering her eyes with her forearm, she said, “The bitch strangled me—”

  Pebbles stopped her recitation of the oasis encounter in mid-sentence. Anlon reached out to touch her shoulder. “Pebbles? Are you all right?” Her body was afire and trembling. He looked up at Jennifer and Sanjay. “Something’s wrong.”

  Sanjay was off the sofa and kneeling by her in an instant. As he felt her wrist for a pulse, he stared up at her lowered head. “Her eyes are flicking back and forth. I can see them move under her lids. She is in REM. She is dreaming.”

  Pebbles began to grunt. She flailed her arms, smacking Anlon in the face. Sanjay said, “Quickly, help me move the table out of the way.”

  With one hand covering his bleeding nose, Anlon grabbed hold of the table just as Jennifer began to drag it from between the two sofas. With the two men pushing and Jennifer pulling, they cleared the area just as Pebbles tumbled onto the floor. Head thrashing from side to side, she coughed and gasped.

  “We need to wake her up…like, right now!” Anlon said.

  “No…don’t,” said Sanjay. “Let it play out. She has suppressed it so long. It needs to come out.”

  In the candlelight, evil flickered on Muran’s face. Woozy, Pebbles tried to speak but no words would form. She tried to move, but her arms and legs would not respond. Muran’s hands slid underneath Pebbles’ tunic and stroked her body. The woman nibbled on her neck and licked at her chin. She laughed as Pebbles whimpered.

  “I wish you hadn’t ruined your beautiful body with these horrid tattoos, but you’ll do,” Muran whispered in her ear. “Now, don’t struggle, dove. Shh…be still.”

  Pebbles felt her tunic tear away and hands fondling her. As Muran kissed and licked her way around Pebbles’ body, rage flared inside — a rage strong enough to heat her skin but too weak to move her drugged limbs. She pleaded for Muran to stop, but all that came out were bleats. Muran laughed and slid off the bed.

  As she moved past the footboard to which Pebbles’ legs were lashed, Muran removed her own tunic. She turned away from Pebbles and looked at the wall of tribal masks facing the bed. Pebbles lolled her head to the right to will her wrist to slip from the bind that gripped it, but the limp hand barely twitched.

  She felt a weight upon her and turned her head to see the naked Muran above her. A smile on her face, Muran whispered, “Be still, my pet. Close you
r eyes.”

  Pebbles shook her head and grunted in protest as Muran cloaked her eyes. Seconds later, she felt Muran’s hands traveling all over her body before they snaked upward and closed around her neck. Pebbles then felt the weight of Muran’s body stretch out on top of her. Muran let out a moan and crushed her thumbs down on Pebbles’ throat.

  No! Stop! Help! Get off! Stop! I can’t breathe! Stop! Please!

  The writhing struggle was brief, for Muran was too practiced and Pebbles was too weak to stop her. As the darkness that covered her eyes also blanketed her mind, Muran’s coos echoed in Pebbles’ ears. “Yes, that’s it, dove…go to sleep.”

  A hand touched Pebbles’ shoulder. Startled, she turned to find herself sitting beside Citali at the edge of the pond. Citali said, “That was terrible. I’m so sorry. Are you dead too?”

  Pebbles raised her hands to her throat and soothed the raw skin. “What? No. I’m still alive. God, I haven’t thought about that night in a long time. I hope I never do again.”

  She closed her eyes and rolled back into the pond. As she disappeared into the cold depths, Pebbles heard a loud splash above her. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see Citali swimming toward her, the ribbons of her white mane flowing behind her naked body. Citali reached out a hand. Pebbles took hold of it and together they rose to the surface.

  With their heads and shoulders bobbing above the water, Citali touched Pebbles’ face. “I can feel you.”

  “Same here,” Pebbles said. “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

  Citali nodded. “You were right. The water feels good.”

  Pebbles smiled and enclosed Citali in her arms. “Thank you for coming back. I didn’t want you to go. I need you.”

  “Why?” Citali asked.

  “To find peace…for both of us.”

  When Pebbles opened her eyes, she saw Anlon, Sanjay and Jennifer leaning over her, concerned expressions on their faces. “Why am I lying down again?”

  “You went into a trance,” Anlon said. “A very intense trance.”

  “Why is your nose all swollen?”