by Brey Willows
She took her shoes off when she got to the sand and made her way to the water’s edge. The warm water lapped gently over her feet, and she let the tears fall. All that prayer. All that begging, to be allowed to live, to get better. For nothing. Because no one knows the gods are nothing but half-full bags of wind. I miss you, Mom. I wish you could explain all this shit to me.
She stayed there, staring out at the horizon, until sweat began to roll down her back from the rising heat. Determined, she headed back, ignoring the twisting in her gut.
Tis was sitting at a table in the shade, reading a book. She looked so lovely, so sweet, Kera nearly lost her nerve. But that was the thing with the gods. They weren’t what they seemed. She dropped into the chair opposite Tis and forced the words out.
“I want you. I think you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. But you’re also one of them, and not only that, you defend them and what they are. And they’re liars. People think they need them, that they’ll help if they only pray hard enough, act good enough. They even go to Heaven or Hell based on those lies and inadequacies. And you help perpetuate that lie.” She finally looked up at Tis, but her work mask was on, and Kera couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “I can’t be a part of that. I wanted to make the world better, and I nearly fucked it up instead. Now, I’m trying really hard to make things right. I don’t think I can do that and sleep with someone who isn’t on my team.”
Tis stayed silent for so long Kera didn’t think she was going to respond. Finally, so quietly Kera could barely hear her, she said, “I can respect that. To some extent, I can even understand it. There are parts you don’t know, things you haven’t seen. They do a lot of good, too.” She leaned forward so Kera could see the red of her eyes. “Tell me something, high and mighty one. If I looked closely at your business dealings, would you be as white as my wings? Or would you be walking a fine line between being in my bed or on my blacklist?”
Kera swallowed the tiny ball of fear rising in her throat. It was one thing to see Tis in action in the field. It was another to have that intensity focused on her. Especially when there was some truth to it. “I never said I was spotless. I’m doing good things, helping people. And if I have to get my hands a little dirty to do it, so be it. That’s apparently more than your colleagues are willing to do. And you? What do you do to make the world better? Sure, you deal with a lot of scumbags. But you don’t kill them, do you? You fuck up their minds, and then leave them here among us schmucks, for us to deal with. Does that make things better? Okay, maybe they don’t rape again, or abuse kids, but what other shit do they do you never know about because you’ve ‘dealt’ with them?” Tis’s eyes were getting redder, and she could see the tips of her fangs. Maybe calling a fury out wasn’t a great idea, but her mouth was way ahead of her reasoning skills.
Tis stood and looked down at Kera. “I think we’re done here. I’ll see you at the ceremony tonight.” She leapt into the air, and the downdraft of her wings blew sand into Kera’s face.
“Nice. Thanks for that.” Kera shouted at her retreating figure.
She flopped against the chair, feeling utterly, horribly alone.
Chapter Twenty-one
Tis sat on the buoy, the gentle rocking of the ocean beneath her calming. She’d needed space and had flown twenty miles into the Atlantic to make sure she was away from everyone. Normally so logical, she was drowning in emotions she didn’t know what to do with. She was furious with Kera, though she couldn’t pin down exactly why. For giving up on them, on what they could have, because of who she was and who she worked for. That was why. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known. But she didn’t know what I told her about their limitations. Perhaps not. And if she knew the rest, she’d probably be even more pissed off. It wasn’t like Tis hadn’t been trying to figure out the point of it all herself.
But now, as she watched a pod of humpback whales surface and dive again, she knew what the point was. It was the very issue she’d be up against the moment she got back. The gods weren’t useless. They did answer prayers, they did tell people how to behave, what stupid things not to do. Yes, people twisted their teachings, but now that the gods were back among them, they were trying to put things right. Prior to the recent upsets, wars had dropped dramatically, people were getting along, even murders and general crime had decreased. That made the world better. If they could just get a handle on how to keep that momentum going, then faith, religion, would actually do what it was meant to; it could be what Kera thought it should be. Just without the meddling in science and biology.
Kera doesn’t even believe, and she’s pissed off the gods have limitations. No wonder believers are going crazy. But deep down, she felt like it was more than that. There was something else at play, something she hadn’t figured out yet. The strange black spaghetti filling people’s minds, who then lost their souls; that hadn’t happened as far as she could remember, and that was truly frightening. There was a piece missing, and she needed it for this puzzle.
She thought again of Kera’s words, and although she was heartbroken in a way she hadn’t been in centuries, she also wasn’t about to apologize for who, for what, she was. She and her sisters stopped the monsters, and she wouldn’t apologize for not taking lives. Maybe Kera was right. Maybe, as amazing as it felt to be with her, they couldn’t find middle ground.
She’d promised, and she’d stay for the final ceremony tonight. She’d help Kera see her mom off, and then Tis would head home. Where I belong.
* * *
Furious rhythmic drumming and frantic chanting filled the night. Kera looked at the massive crowd swaying around her. If they only knew. Her stomach was in knots, and her heart ached like someone had used it for a punching bag. Tis stood next to Kera’s father against the back wall, her expression impassive. Kera and her father had done rock-paper-scissors to determine which of them had to host tonight, and she’d lost rock to his paper. That meant she had to stand by the altar and accept all the offerings left to the gods as well as people’s condolences. Although she appreciated the concept, she wondered how well any of them actually knew her mother. Among the mass of mourners, she felt totally isolated, as though she was watching everything from inside a bubble. She wanted to take back everything she’d said to Tis, but knew it would just come up again later. Tonight, though, of all nights, she wished Tis was at her side rather than across the room, looking for all the world like something far removed from it.
She smiled at Ajan, who slid an expensive cigar into her shirt pocket and then placed an apple on the altar. His little girl hugged Kera’s leg before taking Ajan’s hand and moving to the back to stand near Tis. It was nearing midnight, and the oppressive heat from the crowd and summer night was giving Kera a headache. Suddenly, the priest leading the show raised his hands, and the crowd fell silent.
“Papa Ghede! Mama Erzulie! We call on you to take our beloved sister, our mother, your priestess, home to you. She served you well, and now it’s time for you to give her the peace she deserves.”
The doors blew open, and the scent of apples filled the air. A soft murmur went through the crowd as Papa Ghede and Erzulie entered side-by-side. They didn’t appear to be walking, but rather, floating. Erzulie kept her eyes locked on Kera as they made their way toward her. Well, that’s not unsettling. Papa Ghede looked solemn, far more intense than he had when he was playing taxi driver. When Erzulie stopped in front of Kera, she stayed there for a long moment, staring at her.
Kera leaned forward slightly. “You’re kind of freaking me out,” she whispered.
Erzulie’s lips twitched in a tiny smile. “Tisera made a request for you. I needed to see if you were strong enough.”
“And?” Kera couldn’t believe how desperately she wanted a particular answer.
“You are.” Erzulie looked at Papa Ghede and inclined her head slightly. He turned around to address the crowd.
“Your prayers are heard and answered. Tonight, we take our sister to the lands beyo
nd time, where all mortal souls must eventually make their way.” He raised his arms. “Continue to drink, to fuck, to celebrate, to love. Light your sister’s way across the river with your passion, the same passion she had while she walked with you.”
There were shouts of amen and lots of other things Kera wasn’t interested in. Tis had come up behind Erzulie, and Kera thought she saw a hint of sympathy in her eyes.
“It’s time, girlie. You sure you want to do this?”
Kera looked from Tis to Papa Ghede. “Yeah. As long as I don’t have to go kill a hydra or skin a golden goat or something.”
He smiled at her and shook his head. “Only if you want to do it for fun.” He looked at Tis. “You mind carrying her? It will go faster if we don’t have to walk.”
Tis raised an eyebrow and looked at Kera, but she didn’t say anything.
“Please.” Kera couldn’t think of anything else to say and certainly not in front of other people.
Tis nodded and turned. Kera followed Papa Ghede and Erzulie from the building, wanting to scoff as they both touched followers’ hands and heads as they passed by. But the desire to weep was stronger. They made it outside, and Kera took a deep breath of fresh air. Papa Ghede turned to her.
“We’re only doing this because Tisera asked, and you don’t turn down a fury when she asks for something. But, girlie, you listen to me.” He lit a cigar and took a puff. “Living people don’t go where we’re going. That means you stick with us, you hear? You get to say good-bye to your mama, and then you’re gone. No wandering around on your own, or you won’t be coming back. Hear?”
Kera saluted him. “Got it, boss. You want to put a leash on me, just in case?”
He grinned and blew an O-ring of smoke at her. “I’ll leave that to the women you bed down with.”
Erzulie cleared her throat lightly. “It’s time. Tisera?”
Tis moved to Kera’s side. “It will be easier for both of us if you get on my back and wrap your arms around my neck.”
Any other time, Kera would have made a wisecrack about gladly riding Tis’s back. But this didn’t seem like the right time. “Sure. Whatever works for you.”
Tis turned around, spread her glorious wings, and Kera pressed her body against Tis’s back, careful not to press too hard on her wings, although they felt more like rock than muscle. Or bone. Or feathers. What the hell are her wings made of?
She gasped as Tis leapt into the air, and held on tight, managing to wrap her arms around Tis’s torso rather than her neck, which seemed like a bad idea. She felt the strength of her, the heavy pumping of her wings, and was reminded just how not-human Tis was. Not that I need a big ass reminder, since I’m riding her like she’s a fucking dragon. She tried to see over Tis’s shoulder but saw only water. She wondered where Papa Ghede and Erzulie had gone, since they didn’t have wings. Maybe they fly like Superman or some shit. She shouted when Tis suddenly dove toward the water and wind rushed past them. She squeezed her eyes shut as they were about to slam into the ocean, realizing just how stupid she’d been to piss off a fury and then get on her back for a ride to death-land.
Cool air made her skin goose pimple, and she opened her eyes. The ocean was gone, and now they flew above cracked, dry land under an inky black sky with no stars or moon. Ahead, the sky lightened.
“Tis? Do you know where we’re going?”
“Of course I do. I spent a good portion of my early life in the underworld.”
Of course she did. It wasn’t like a normal conversation, where you asked where someone went to high school or what their first job was. Tis lived in the underworld and fucked goddesses. She’d been around for an amount of time Kera couldn’t really even fathom.
Tis slowed and started to descend. She touched down, and Kera quickly let go, feeling the loss instantly. Tis lowered her wings, and Kera could see what was ahead.
“What the fuck?”
Tis laughed. “It’s changed since the last time I was here.”
“It looks like…like…a really bad version of Vegas.” A massive river was bordered on both sides by gaudy buildings with neon lights. Many of the lights were broken and missing letters, and there was a sense of gloom about the place even though it was brightly lit. There were saloons straight out of an old Western, brothels, casinos, and even a few churches. Papa Ghede and Erzulie materialized out of the darkness. Between them walked her mother.
“Mama,” Kera whispered.
Her mother held out her arms, and Kera rushed into them. “Baby girl. If anyone could make it right down to the river, it would be you.”
Kera let her tears fall. All the years of isolation, work, fear, and guilt welled up inside her and flowed away with her tears. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there at the end. I’m so, so sorry. I made so many mistakes—”
“Hush, mija.”
Her mother held her at arm’s length, and Kera realized Tis and the others had moved away a bit to give them some privacy.
“Life is about mistakes, baby. Some are worse than others, but at some point,” she looked around them, “we all end up here anyway. So stop beating yourself up, baby.” She held Kera’s face in her hands. “I love you, and I’m so damn proud of you. Never forget that, no matter what happens.” She let go of Kera’s face and motioned toward Tis. “And remember that not everything is black-and-white.”
Kera started to protest, but her mother cut her off with a look.
“No, mija. At some point you have to accept that there’s always more to the story, and you’re not always right. If there’s one last piece of advice I can give you, it’s to open up, and be prepared to be wrong. Learn to say you’re sorry, and learn to forgive.”
Kera laughed humorlessly. “Now I know I’m not among the living. As if.”
“You’ll learn, baby.”
Erzulie moved closer to them. “I’m sorry, but it’s time. Kera can’t be here longer than necessary.”
Kera looked at her mother, a million things she wanted to say jumbled in her head, and none of them coming out. Finally, she whispered, “I love you so much. Thank you for being the most amazing mom in the world.”
Her mom took Papa Ghede’s outstretched hand and stepped back. “Oh, baby, I know you loved me, never doubt that. And you were my greatest gift. I love you. Tell your papa…” She looked up at the onyx sky. “Tell him I’ll be waiting for him.”
Kera felt like she was choking on the desperation to keep her mother with her. She looked at Erzulie. “Could I go with her?” She heard Tis’s sharp intake of breath.
Erzulie shook her head. “No, child. No one crosses the river without having finished what they were meant to do while alive. And you’re not done yet.”
Kera hugged herself, and when she felt she warmth of Tis’s wing curl around her, she leaned into it gratefully. She watched as Papa Ghede led her mother to a long dock, where a riverboat waited for them. An impossibly thin, tall man took her mother’s hand and helped her into the boat. She sat next to Papa Ghede, who put an arm around her. She looked over her shoulder and waved.
Kera waved back and let go of the sob she’d been trying to hold back. Tis pulled her close, and they watched as the boat floated away, under a bridge, and out of sight.
Kera sobbed in Tis’s arms, unaware of time passing, and feeling the loss of her mother as keenly as a bullet wound to her soul. At some point, Erzulie touched her shoulder.
“It’s time for you to return, child.”
Kera lifted her head from Tis’s shoulder, embarrassed by the massive wet patch on her shirt. “Sorry about that. I’ll get it dry-cleaned for you.”
Tis gave her a small, sad smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Kera stepped back and pulled herself together. She looked at the two of them. “Thank you. For allowing this.” She looked directly at Tis. “For coming.” She motioned around them, trying to ground herself a little bit. “What is this place?”
“It’s Hypnos, and that’s the River Lethe. Ther
e are five different rivers that are used for the crossing. This is the river of forgetfulness. Your mother will drink some of the river water when she gets to the other side, and she’ll be content with where she goes. Those who don’t drink sometimes end up haunting the living, unable to let go of the lives they once had.”
Kera knew there was some kind of folk tale lesson in that information, but she didn’t have the energy to analyze it now. “And it looks like a beat-up version of old people’s Sin City because?”
Tis laughed. “There’s not a lot of point in making it really glitzy, since most people who come here aren’t happy about it. Basically, these are places they can spend their time until they’re finally ready to cross over.”
“Like I said, this is only one of five rivers. The one on Phlegethon, the river of fire, is really something to see. Fireworks all the time, animal shows…quite exciting. Still, people tire of it and eventually cross.”
“What do they cross to?” Kera asked, staring down the river where she’d last seen her mother.
Erzulie started walking into the darkness, and Tis turned her back to Kera, indicating she should get on.
“It’s different for every religion. Your mother will go where all Vodun go, and she’ll be happy.”
Erzulie faded into the dark, and Kera hung on as Tis leapt into the sky. Instead of looking around, she rested her cheek against Tis’s strong back. It wasn’t an answer, but she could live with it. As they emerged into daylight beside a stunning waterfall, she blinked at the bloom of dawn and the beauty of it, and of living in general. She laughed and pointed below them at an enormous pod of dolphins playing in the waves, and Tis joined her. As always, her laughter lifted Kera’s heart.
