by Jack Massa
When I don’t say anything, she goes on. “Don’t you want to talk about it? I want to help if I can.”
I’d like to tell her. I think about telling Violet and Kevin the other night, and how relieved it made me feel. But I’m so ashamed, so afraid she’ll think I’m a freak. Besides, how could I tell Molly, of all people? Molly the ace reporter, the compulsive blogger.
“Abby, you can trust me.”
“Can I?” My voice sounds small and whiny. “Anything I tell you will end up online.”
“No, it won’t. I promise.”
I’m just not sure. “If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t write about it.”
“Write about it? Well, I write about everything. But that doesn’t mean I have to post it. I’ve written tons of stuff no one but me has ever seen.”
I shake my head.
“All right,” Molly says. “This is tough for me, but I swear I won’t write about anything you tell me—unless you give me specific permission. Okay?”
So I tell her. About the vision in the circle, about seeing Shadow Man, about my repeated drownings the other night. I don’t tell her about Granma, Violet, and Kevin doing magic. I have to respect their privacy, and besides, I take seriously what the Circle of Harmony manifesto said about keeping those things secret.
“I had hallucinations when I was younger, and they put me on meds,” I explain. “But it was nothing like these past few days. These feel so real. I almost think they are real…somehow.”
“I think that’s possible,” Molly says quietly. “It fits with the whole spiritualist history. What you saw in the circle sounds just like the kind of magic rituals they used to do up there. And the black shadow guy sounds a lot like what Laura Hilton and the Parkers saw. And the drowning—it could be you were reliving what happened to Annie Renshaw…”
She looks at me, and her eyes are moist. “God, Abby. I understand why you’re so scared. I appreciate…I’m honored that you told me.”
“You won’t tell anyone else?”
“No, I promise. And I won’t write a single word about it. But I’m going to do some more research. Maybe I can help you figure it out.”
By the time I meet Granma back at the shop, I’ve been able to compose myself. The tingling fear is still there, but I haven’t seen any more visions, so I’m able to hold it down.
On the ride home, Granma remarks that I’m awfully quiet. She asks if everything is okay.
I don’t want to worry her if I don’t have to. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking about stuff. I need to decide about initiation.”
“Right. So what are you thinking?”
I’m thinking the scary hallucinations will keep coming back, and if initiation might help me learn to protect myself, then I probably should go ahead. But taking that step feels really momentous, and frightening in a different way—like giving in to believing that the whole scary mess is real.
“What would you do if you were me?”
Granma laughs. “I would probably ask my Granma for advice. And she would tell me, once again, that it’s a decision only I can make.”
“Right…”
“I’ve pretty much told you all I know, Abby. If you have more questions, I think you should talk to Violet. She’ll help you if she can.”
After dinner, I tell Granma I’m going up to my room to catch up on my homework. But instead I dig out my Tarot deck and ask the cards’ advice: Should I accept the offer and be initiated into the Circle of Harmony?
The reading shows lots of fears and nasty obstacles. But the crowning card is the Magician. Holding up his wand under a bower of roses, he looks so calm and certain.
The true magician.
In the outcome position is the Queen of Pentacles. She sits on a throne, also under a bower of roses, with a blue stream running nearby. She gazes serenely at the pentacle in her lap, a five-pointed star in a circle of light.
Like a gift. The gift of all the world.
Maybe it’s crazy, believing that my visions are real, that magic is real. That’s what Franklin and my other friends would say. I don’t even want to think about what Mom would say. Maybe I’m giving the secret Abby too much control, and it will lead me into trouble.
Except I’m already in trouble.
Crazy or not, my heart tells me this is what I need to do.
I go downstairs and tell Granma that yes please, I would like to be initiated into the Circle of Harmony.
8. Unless you know my name, you cannot pass
“I’m so excited for you,” Violet says, handing me a glass of iced tea. “And I’m excited for me. It’s been a long time since we initiated someone.”
I’m sitting on her sofa, the ceiling fan spinning overhead. It’s a hot day, and I’ve walked over from the antique shop.
“I really appreciate your help, Violet. You and Kevin have been so kind to me.”
“Not at all!” Violet is across the room, opening the creaky doors of an old armoire. She hunts through piles of folders and papers. “Now, let me see. I’ll need to brush up on the Initiation Ritual with Kevin and your grandmother…Here it is.” She sets a brown folder aside. “And we’ll need all those instructions and essays for you to study afterward…they must be in here somewhere.” She shuffles through all the shelves, selects a few loose pages, and finally gives up. “Well, I can find those later.”
She carries the folder over and sits down beside me. “Okay. So you’ve read ‘Admonitions to the Candidate.’ Any questions about that?”
“I guess not. It makes sense, as far as it goes. Purity of intent, learning to watch your own thoughts, following the Five Principles—I get all that. But I’m worried about the actual initiation. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”
She lays a hand on my wrist. “Not to worry. The ceremony is designed so that the candidate is guided through everything. You’ll just follow your grandmother around and take your cues from her. In fact, most of the time you’ll be blindfolded.”
“Oh.”
Violet has opened the folder and is glancing through the papers. “Yeah. We’ll have to modify this a bit. In the old days, the ceremonies were conducted outdoors. But with only the three of us to officiate, that’s too difficult—making sure it’s private and all. I’ve spoken to your grandmother, and we’ve agreed to use her house. Have you ever done any meditation?”
“Umm. Yes, in yoga class. And we had a sports psychologist talk to the team once about visualization.”
“Excellent. The training of a true magician begins with meditation and visualization.” She taps a finger on her lips, thinking. “Now, we’ll set up the magical chamber in your grandmother’s living room. So first thing Sunday morning, I want you to clean that room slowly and carefully. Treat it as a form of meditation. It’s symbolic, you see?”
“Okay.”
“And no breakfast. You’ll need to fast, starting at midnight on Saturday.”
I nod.
“Now, let me see. After you clean the room, you take a warm bath. I’ll give you a vial of oil to put in the water. Burn a single white candle in the bathroom. Relax in the water, breathe deeply, and meditate. Meditate on the Five Springs and the principles they represent—Love, Endurance, Balance, Amity, and Bliss. Can you remember all that?”
“Sure.”
“Good. Then after the bath, you’re to dress in the white gown that I’ll give you. Then just relax and wait for us to start. If you get anxious, resume the meditation. Notice whatever thoughts and distractions come to mind, and just gently dismiss them and go back to the Five Springs. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Now, let’s see, what else…what else?” She turns over a few more pages. “Oh yes, the oath. Very important. Before you can be accepted as a candidate, you must swear to keep three promises. First, that you will hold everything that happens in the Circle secret. That means secret from everyone except ot
her initiates. Second, that you will follow the path of true magic to the best of your abilities. This basically means that you appreciate this is a gift and that you take it seriously. Now, the third is the most important: that you will use any occult powers you gain only to bring good and harmony into the world. Good and harmony as exemplified by the Five Principles. This means you swear to reject the temptations of vanity and evil magic. As I told you once before, Abby, this is harder than it sounds. Many who started down this path have gone astray to one degree or another. I believe that’s what caused the decline of the Circle.”
I think about Annie Renshaw and the vision I saw in the clearing, the man and the two girls with wands. “I’ve heard that some of them in the old days practiced evil magic.”
“Oh, it never seems evil at first,” Violet says. “A spirit appears, promises you power, appeals to your desires. It’s so easy to be seduced. We all want to believe we’re greater and more important than we are.”
“So how do you guard against that?”
Violet points to her heart—“By listening here”—and to her brow. “And judging here. This path is designed to make you ever more conscious of your higher nature. As you advance, you will hear its voice in your heart. But you must always remember to use your intellect to judge: Does what you hear and desire conform with the Five Principles? Will it bring harmony into your life and into the world?”
It feels overwhelming. And Violet senses my anxiety.
“It’s not easy, Abby. Other spiritual paths—religions—give you all the answers. And that’s good—that helps people stay on a safe course and live good lives. But the path of magic is a path of growth. It forces you to find your own answers. It’s hard, but it’s the path some of us are called to.”
When I hear that, something moves inside me, something rising in my heart. So when Violet asks me if I’m sure, if I’m ready to swear the oath and keep the three promises, I clench my jaw, squeeze down the flutter of panic, and answer.
“Yes.”
“Good girl. Then stand up.”
We both stand. Violet reads the three parts of the oath, and I repeat them. Each promise feels like a step into the darkness, like I’m already blindfolded. But I reach back to the answer that rose in my heart, and it gives me faith and strength. When we sit down again, I feel relieved, like I’ve just run a race and can now catch my breath.
Violet says, “Now, the only other thing is to choose your magical name. Each magician is known by a secret name that we use only inside the Circle. It can be whatever you wish. Some people choose animal totems or other names from the natural world, and some people choose mottoes based on one of the principles, sometimes in Latin or another language, to sound more exotic. Whatever you choose, it should represent the highest aspiration of your soul, the ideal that you aim for.”
“Wow…I don’t know. Can you give me some examples?”
Violet smiles. “No, dear. They’re secret. I can’t repeat any actual names until after you’ve been initiated. But you can take your time to think about it. Just let me know before Sunday.”
“No. Wait, please.” This feels super-important, and I’m just not sure how to choose.
When I hesitate, Violet speaks gently. “You might want to close your eyes and be guided by your inner voice. Ask yourself, what is your ideal? What have you found or done in this life that signifies you at your best?”
“All right.” I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and ask. What comes to mind is me running on the track, with the Hudson Heights High logo on my shirt.
I open my eyes and ask, “Is—would Fighting Eagle be too silly?”
Violet looks delighted. “Not at all. I think it suits you beautifully.”
So two days later I stand in Granma’s hallway, barefoot in a white gown, with a black silk scarf tied over my eyes. I can hear Granma and Kevin and Violet in the living room, talking in soft voices, moving things around.
Setting up the magical chamber.
I’m nervous, but not really afraid. Since that day I went kayaking, I’ve had no more scary visions or nightmares. My anxiety level has been up and down but manageable. I wonder if just making the decision to be initiated was enough to surround me with another sphere of protection.
I smell incense.
In a little while I hear drumming, a steady thump-thump like a heartbeat. This goes on for some time, and then it is mixed in with the sound of tiny bells—the shaking of a tambourine. Next I hear their voices chanting, intoning speeches in praise of the Circle of Harmony, of the venerated founders, and of the great spirit Lebab. I hear footsteps, then Violet’s voice summoning the Elementals, the spirits of the four directions. She calls them “our friends” of air, fire, water, and earth.
“I now declare that the magical chamber is open.”
Someone approaches me and takes hold of my hand. Granma.
We take two steps, and then I hear her sharp knocking on the door jamb.
From inside, Violet’s voice: “Who knocks at the threshold of our hidden chamber?”
Granma answers, “A seeker of knowledge. A friend who would join our company.”
Violet: “Has the seeker sworn to protect our secret knowledge?”
Granma: “Her oath is duly recorded.”
Violet: “By what name may we know this candidate?”
Granma: “Her name is Fighting Eagle.”
Violet: “Let Fighting Eagle come forward.”
We take a step. But then I feel an arm blocking our way.
Kevin says, “Unless you are purified by the sacred waters, you cannot enter in.”
A wet fingertip touches my forehead. It traces a pentagram inside a circle, then presses the spot between my eyebrows. The third eye. A sensation of energy washes through my brain.
Kevin: “Now you are purified. Pass on.”
Violet: “Child of the world of confusion, welcome to our Circle of Harmony.”
Granma turns me to the right, and we walk slowly. The drum starts up again.
Violet: “Approach, Fighting Eagle, and learn the secrets of the Springs.”
After we take a few steps, Kevin is there again, barring our way. “I guard the first Spring. Unless you know my name, you cannot pass.”
Granma answers, “Ignorance is your name. Deceit is your name. The deceit of the sensual world. The ignorance of those who perceive only surface appearances. By Love you are conquered, love of knowledge and of truth.”
I hear Kevin step back. “You know me, then. Pass on.”
We take three more steps and stop. I hear water pouring. Granma lifts my blindfold, and I glimpse a picture of a fountain. It’s painted in blue and rose colors and looks like an image on a Tarot card. The rim of a cup touches my lips.
“Drink from the Fountain of the Love of Truth.”
I sip, and the tambourine rings. The water seems to sparkle on my tongue. Granma takes the cup away and lowers the blindfold.
We move on around the room, the drum beating again.
A few moments later, Kevin blocks our way a third time. “I guard the second Spring. Unless you know my name, you cannot pass.”
Granma replies, “Fear is your name. Terror is your name. The fear of facing the immeasurable truths of nature. The terror of knowing one’s own insignificance. By Endurance you are conquered—courage, strength of purpose, steadfast faith.”
Again he steps back. Again I am shown a painting of a fountain, this one made of boulders, in grays and browns. Again the tambourine sings and the water tingles as I taste it.
We walk on. The blood in my body throbs in time with the drum.
Once again, Kevin stops us. “I guard the third Spring. Unless you know me, you cannot pass.”
Granma answers, “Pride is your name. Conceit is your name. The conceit of the glittering surfaces of the world, the pride of one inflated by a sense of growing power. Only by Balance are you subdued,
the correction of harsh experience, the wisdom to align contending forces.”
This time the painting shows two fountains, flowing one into the other, the colors blue and silver. I sip from the cup. The blindfold is replaced.
By now we must almost have circled the room, but it’s hard to tell. I’m losing touch with everything except the changes I feel happening inside me.
Kevin stops us again. He is the guardian of the fourth Spring. He demands that we tell him his name.
Granma says, “Greed is your name. Lust is your name. The terrible greed for power in the world, the lust for control over others. Only by Amity can you be overcome. That is compassion toward all beings and dedication to perfect harmony.”
This time the painting is a fountain of gold, and it’s a gold cup that holds the water I sip.
We move on. I’m only faintly aware of the drumming and of my body walking in darkness. Love, Endurance, Balance, and Amity are whirlpools spinning inside me. My mind is dazzled, stretching to comprehend them. I clutch Granma’s hand. It’s all that keeps me from floating away.
“Let the candidate come forth and kneel,” Violet says.
A few steps, and I am guided to kneel down on a cushion. I feel Kevin and Granma standing beside me. Violet speaks from directly in front of me.
“Child of the world of confusion, I welcome you to Harmony. You have glimpsed the four Springs and tasted their sacred waters—the Springs that are Fountains and the Fountains that are waymarkers on the path of true magic. As you progress faithfully on this path, you will revisit the Fountains many times and learn their lessons. But now before you flows the fifth and ultimate Spring. Always remember that this Spring is the goal of your quest. It is Bliss. It is union with your own higher nature, that which is a fragment of the One Eternal Mind, the Spirit of the Universe. Remove your blindfold, Fighting Eagle, and gaze upon the waters of Bliss.”
I lift off the blindfold. Before my eyes is a goblet of blue glass, the water inside swirling and full of light. I gaze at the circling water, then slowly raise my eyes. The walls of the room are gone; so is the ceiling. There’s only the streaming light revolving and flowing, rising in spirals—higher and higher, the crystal-blue color of the Springs.
