“Are you really serious about this tattoo? If you are, I could find a petroglyph that had definite significance to remind me of this summer and the things that were special about it,” Olivia said.
“She’s getting sentimental, you guys. This is a rare moment,” Anna said, giving Olivia a gentle shove.
“I can be sensitive. I’ve had a really good summer, and I’ve really enjoyed the time I spent with all of you. It was special, and I’ll always remember it.”
“Ditto,” Kate said.
“And I think we should each get one. Group tattoo time,” Madeline said.
“Well, I’d hate to miss out on this orgy of prickly pain. I’m in,” Anna said.
Maggie looked at Celia.
“If I remember correctly, group rules cite there will be no peer pressure,” Celia said.
“No, there’s no pressure. But if you’re scared, we understand,” Olivia chided.
“C’mon now, the idea is not to coerce anyone. It’ll ruin the moment, and the tattoo won’t have honest karma,” Maggie said.
“Tattoos with karma. Oh, Maggie, you are going to give them a scare when you get home. And just for the record, I am not afraid. It’s just that tattoos are so permanent. It’s not like fashion or hairdos. You can’t make the damn things go away.”
“That’s the idea. A tattoo will forever remind you of a point in your life when something really good happened,” Olivia said.
“Are you guys counting two sappy moments?” Anna said.
“Or something good coupled with a radical change,” Maggie said.
“Let me get this straight. You want a tattoo to commemorate your switching sides of the fence,” Celia said.
“It is a pivotal point in one’s life,” Kate said.
“It’s like the poem you wrote after you got your first tattoo, ‘Tattoo My Esprit from the Conformity of Mind,’” Madeline said to Kate.
“Exactly, and it seems Maggie is feeling some of those same vibes,” Kate said.
“You know, for such a young bunch you all are pretty much in tune,” Celia said as she began to reevaluate her position. “Not that age inspires wisdom.” She looked at Maggie. “Maybe you’re right. We all need little reminders of where we have been and where we are going. Do you remember that part in Moby Dick when Melville talks about the skin being a text and the importance of marking it?” Celia asked Maggie.
“I do. That was one of my favorite parts.”
“Does this mean you’ll do it?” Olivia asked.
“Yes, and I know exactly which petroglyph I’m choosing.”
“Share. Which one?” Anna asked.
“It’s the one with two Kokopellis, the one I call narcissistic copulation,” Celia replied.
“Why that one?” Olivia asked.
“You can’t be serious,” Maggie said, hoping this choice was in jest, a payback of sorts.
“I am serious. The way I see it, the two figures are identical. They are not distinguishable by sex or definite signs of gender. Those primitive people had a different view of sexuality. It could be one of the first homosexual symbols, for all we know. And since I’ve spent most of my adult life being a lesbian and engaging in what the dominant culture oftentimes views as narcissistic copulation, that symbol becomes the physical manifestation of my text.”
“For someone who wasn’t even considering the possibility of getting a tattoo you certainly have thoroughly analyzed your choice and its meaning,” Olivia said eyeing Celia curiously.
“I just never had a good enough reason, a strong enough love of duality, to want to adorn my body with a symbol so permanent, that’s all.”
“And now you’re saying you do?” Maggie asked.
“Yes, my darling, now I do.”
“Pass me the tequila and stop being so sappy,” Olivia said.
“Boy, the sentimental stint certainly didn’t last long,” Celia replied, handing her the bottle.
“Olivia, that’s not nice. Finding your other half is absolutely beautiful, an event to be cherished, one that is not easily achieved,” Kate said.
“Nor easily kept,” Anna said, ruefully.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Olivia asked.
“I think you know already,” Anna replied.
“Are you referring to our failed love affair?” Olivia asked.
“You two were lovers?” Maggie asked, shocked by the revelation.
“Yes, it’s the beautiful rise and demise of our ongoing relationship. We just can’t seem to get away from each other,” Anna said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Yes, we just go through periods of dating other people,” Olivia said.
“And of missing the one person you really enjoy the most,” Anna said.
“You miss me? Really?” Olivia said.
“No, I just follow you around for no apparent reason,” Anna said.
“What’s the problem?” Madeline asked.
“If we knew that, we wouldn’t be having this discussion, now would we? We’d be part of the love-twins cult, living happily ever after basking in the warm glow of each other’s undying love and adoration,” Olivia said.
“Now I would call that an obvious expression of frustration,” Celia said.
“Listen, you love birds. Do you think I like existing in this state of limbo? Yes, I love Anna. But when we act like lovers we fall apart; when we act like friends we go on forever. If I could stop, change it, make it go away, or get it really going, don’t you think I would? Do you think I like not having someone to share my life with? That it’s pleasant or something? That always worrying Anna will someday find someone and walk out of my life forever is what I want?” Olivia said, taking a swig of the bottle out of turn.
Anna looked at her, puzzled. “Are you serious?”
“No, I made it all up for the hell of it.”
“Oh,” Anna said. “May I have a drink of that?”
Madeline and Kate wandered off to explore the kiva after breakfast. It made Maggie think about what Olivia had said about the love-twins cult. When Celia had told Maggie that Madeline and Kate were coming, she said they were lovers. After they had been at the ranch a while, Celia was convinced they were mystical twin lovers that traveled through time, losing each other only to find one another again and again, perfecting their lives and their love with each pass through the realm of life.
At first Maggie laughed at what she thought was Celia’s preposterous idea, but the more time she spent with them the more she began to see what Celia did. They were mystical love twins. How else could two such people find each other and become such perfect complements?
Maggie watched them scale the small incline that led to the kiva, helping each other along, holding hands, playing. Will we be like that? Maggie wondered.
Celia came up behind and kissed her neck. “I missed you.”
“But I haven’t gone anywhere.”
“I can still miss you,” Celia replied.
“Whatever are you going to do when I’m gone?”
“Miss you ever so much. Can’t I come with you?”
“No, we decided already. You have too much going on here right now, and Minneapolis is not going to be a vacation. And I would prefer to leave you out of the familial invectives.”
“Are you sure you don’t have ulterior motives?”
“Such as?” Maggie replied, shaking the water off the breakfast dishes.
“Such as in keeping me from reliving certain unpleasant memories.”
“Do you really think I’m that astute and sensitive?”
“Yes,” Celia said, taking her in her arms.
“Well, you’re only half right. I don’t want you to go through another disownment on my account. I remember how mean people were to you.”
“What is the other half of your reasoning?”
“I need to process this alone. I don’t want you to think that I’m cutting you off, but I don’t want you to see my old life. I don’t want you to have that
memory of me.”
“I understand.”
“And are you relieved?”
Celia smiled. “Very relieved. I would go if you really wanted me to, but I’m glad you don’t.”
Chapter Seven
Maggie sat on a rock shelf meditating while the others explored a nearby ruin. It was so quiet in the canyon that she could think without distraction and let her mind flow where it wanted. She was dreaming. The idea came out of nothingness. She indulged it. She was no longer afraid of her dreams. She no longer hid from them.
Later when she lay in Celia’s arms listening to the buzz and click of nocturnal creatures, she worked through her dream, gave it substance, grasped its content.
“Celia?”
“Yes, darling.”
“I have an idea.”
“Should I be afraid to ask?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You aren’t going to color your hair purple?”
“No, Amanda beat me to that one. It’s hard to imagine her so stodgy now. She is the same age as Olivia and Anna, yet she is already so set in her ways.”
“Perhaps you can help her regain the joy she lost somewhere.”
“No, she’ll have to do that on her own. She needs her own set of keys for that.”
“Yes, I think you’re right. What’s your idea?”
“I want to turn the ranch into a women’s art center. Keep the apprentices on, pay them a salary, make lots of pottery, teach classes, turn it into a community. There’s land enough, labor enough, enough of everything to make it work. We need to share what we’ve created this summer with many others.”
“Maggie, it’s a nice idea, but it’s not feasible. We would be way out of our league. You’re talking lots of time, money, and planning.”
“We have all that. You’ve made it work on a small scale; it could also work on a much larger scale.”
“It takes money, Maggie. I don’t have it.”
“But I do. I have more than I knew what to do with until today. Today I know. I know it would work. It’s been waiting to work. You’ve already laid the groundwork. All you need is a major investor. Now you have one.”
“Maggie, you’re dreaming.”
“It’s not a dream you haven’t had. You can’t say you haven’t thought of it. You don’t want to let the apprentices go. You’ve had to let too many of them go. Create a place where their talents can really be used. I know you don’t like sending them back into a world that crushes them. I know you’ve felt that weight at the end of every summer. What if you could employ the ones who want to stay?”
“You’re not being practical.”
“I’ve been practical and safe all my life. It’s only since I threw caution to the wind that I’ve begun to live. Don’t limit yourself, Celia. Take the risk. Think of it: an art center, a commune, a business, a school, a place to live, a movement. My God, we’ll have to come up with a logo.”
Celia rolled over and groaned. “You’re out of control, Maggie. Stop!”
“I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about it. I want to do this, Celia. Promise me you’ll think about it.”
Celia rolled over to face her, leaning up on one elbow. She could see the fire in her lover’s eyes. “I promise to think about.” How could she refuse? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t dreamed of it herself. But it was always a dream, a frightening dream. She was not an entrepreneur. She needed someone else’s spark.
Maggie kissed her. “Thank you. Just let your mind soar with it. Imagine. Promise?”
“Promise.”
Maggie kissed her again. She felt desire, and reached gently for Celia.
Olivia and Anna sat on the rock that bordered the stream soaking their feet. The cold water felt good as it ran across their feet and made rivulets in the smooth water.
“It’s almost over, and you know how I hate endings.”
“We could always come back next summer,” Anna replied.
Olivia looked at her. “You know as well as I do that too many things can happen in a year’s time to even think of a plan like that. When it’s over, it’s over. I wish we could stay. That’s what I really want. I want to hang out in the desert and make pots. To hell with rest of the world. I just want a little corner to work in.”
“You want a sanctuary.”
“A sanctuary where living could have some dignity, a sanctuary from all the insanity.”
Anna took her friend’s hand and kissed it. “I’d be willing to try. Maybe we could find a place and try being together again.” She took Olivia’s face in her hands and kissed the tears away.
It was at the bar in Flagstaff with all of them sitting at a glossy, well-worn, thick oak table that Maggie revealed her plan, one that Celia had tentatively agreed to. Maggie’s excitement had been contagious. Celia liked her life being so full, and she wasn’t eager to see it emptied again.
They sat in a circle around the table, sunburned and dusty, each with a glossy bandage covering her tattoo. They were drinking pitchers of beer to take the edge off their painful experience.
Maggie explained her plan and waited for their reaction. Smiles crept across all their faces, except for Olivia’s. She burst into tears and turned for Anna’s arms.
“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s beautiful, perfect. We wanted this so bad and now it’s happening. They’re happy tears, believe me,” Anna told her.
Olivia nodded her agreement.
“You guys really want to stay? See if we can make this work?” Celia asked, still dazed that the ranch meant as much to other women as it did to herself.
“We didn’t want to leave, but summer was over and so was the program,” Madeline replied.
“I have never felt as at peace as I do at the ranch. It’s the place I was looking for and couldn’t find,” Kate said.
“Can we farm?” Anna asked, looking earnestly at Celia.
“Farm?” asked Celia.
“Yeah, like grow all of our own stuff and some to sell too. Think about it. Food is a major expense.”
“Brew our own beer?” Olivia said, smacking her lips.
“It’s worth a try. This could work,” Anna said emphatically.
Celia smiled and took Maggie’s hand. “You were right.”
When they returned to the ranch, it was with anticipation and not the dread of packing up shortly. It was night when they pulled up in front of the house.
Amanda was gone.
“I thought she might be,” said Maggie, setting the note down on the kitchen table and picking up the plane ticket. Maggie looked at the date on the ticket. Amanda had generously given her a week’s notice.
“You and Amanda do have one thing in common—plane tickets.”
“Yes, but look how well the first one turned out,” Celia replied.
“Will I be so fortunate again?”
“Yes, because the next one will be the one back.”
“You noticed it’s not a round-trip ticket. She is in for a surprise.”
“Does she think if she wills something it will simply happen because she wants it to?” Anna asked, suddenly angry at the young woman she hardly knew.
“What a wretched little bitch,” said Olivia.
“Olivia! That’s not nice. She’s Maggie’s child,” Kate reprimanded.
“No, she’s right. Amanda is a wretched little bitch. I just wish I knew why. What did I do? What could I have done to make her less hostile? She has no room for the beautiful things in life. She never has.”
“That’s too bad. You’d be a neat mom to have. I wish you could have been mine,” Olivia replied.
Maggie turned to look at her. “Thank you.”
Walking out to their cottage, Anna took Olivia’s hand.
“You know, you’re starting to lose some of your rough edges.”
“What do you mean?” Olivia asked.
“What you said to Maggie. That was nice, and I know you meant
it.”
“And do you like these softer edges?”
“Yes, very much.”
“I’m glad.”
Celia found Maggie in the bathtub. She sat on the bench near the edge of the tub, took the sponge, and gently washed Maggie’s back, thinking how much she would miss her, her touch, her laugh, her hands, her lips.
“Are you going?”
“Yes, I suppose I should. Will you miss me?”
“No, not at all.”
“You beast,” said Maggie, reaching for her.
Celia melted into her touch. “More than I could ever tell you.”
“Please, don’t cry. We can’t have two of us blubbering.”
“I know. Just be careful. No jaywalking, no answering doors to strangers, no fast car rides.”
“Why? Are you afraid I won’t come back?”
“I let you go once. I couldn’t bear to do it twice.”
“I’m coming back.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“She better come back,” said Olivia as the four of them watched Maggie leave.
“She will. She loves Celia. She loves this place. And she loves us. She’ll be back,” Anna said, putting her arm around Olivia’s shoulders.
Maggie wouldn’t let them go with her to the airport. She told them that when she had come from Minneapolis she had taken a cab to the airport. She couldn’t bear good-byes in such sterile public environments. She’d rather have a nice dinner with them and then leave. And they had had a nice dinner.
They had taken their bandages off their tattoos after dinner and hugged one another other goodnight. But now it was morning and she was leaving. They all felt it acutely. Each day was going to seem long while she was away.
“We’ll have a big party when she gets back, have Karen and those guys come down. We’ll make a weekend of it. C’mon, this is going to be hard enough without all these long faces,” Celia told them.
The dust died down on the road and, except for Olivia, they left the porch one by one.
“Take care pretty lady. Don’t let them hurt you too bad,” said Olivia to the now empty horizon. Maybe that was why it was so hard to let her go. They all knew the difficulty of informing the straight people in your life of your new love. It takes more than persuasion; it takes courage. Olivia said a silent prayer and walked off into the early morning.
Saxon Bennett - The Wish List Page 11
