by Ka Newborrn
An odd twitch crept from Jana’s mouth as the two women joined hands across the table.
“She first came to me when I was a little girl. She held onto my pain and fear for me, but I’ve trapped her. She can’t get free until I let go.”
Jana rocked back and forth slowly and absorbed her words.
“Are you okay?”
“Seems we have a bit in common, you and I. I never expected anyone to hold onto the pain for me. Somehow it’s all become too much. I understand. More than you know.”
“Maybe we could help each other make it better.”
“How?”
“Maybe we could take it back so she doesn’t have to carry it anymore.”
They paused and looked at each other. Jana emptied her glass, picked up the bottle and refilled it. She tipped it in Odette’s direction. Odette nodded and held out her glass.
“I have something to show you. Upstairs. Bring your glass.”
She led Odette up the wooden staircase to the second floor and the second staircase leading to the attic bedroom.
“I don’t come in here often. I’ve pretty much left it the way he did. I’ve barely touched it since he passed away.”
Odette stood in front of the dresser and examined the items that littered the surface. Two crowns made of integrifolia and dental floss lay amid a collection of antique puppets, Pysanka eggs and cassette tapes.
“Samhain, Odette.”
“What?”
“In two days. Sunday. It’s the day Russell and Calvin found the hummingbird. It’s the day I gave her up.”
Jana observed her reflection in the dresser mirror. With trembling fingers, she grasped Ells' Celtic cross pendant from its hiding place inside her t-shirt and placed it outside her sweater. She took one of the integrifolia crowns gently into her hands and placed it on top of her head. Hands still shaking, she turned toward Odette and crowned her with the second.
Odette faced the mirror and stared at her reflection.
“All Saints’ Day, too.” She brought her fingertips to the fragile crown.
“What?”
“Is Monday.”
Their eyes met each other’s in the mirror. Jana’s lips curved into a smile.
“Lagniappe.”
✽✽✽
She dreamed that a conjoined twin who lived behind her back fell ill and died, leaving her alone to face the world with an identity that had always been a part of her but wasn’t hers to claim. As she drifted awake, a faint stream of moonlight illuminated the wildflowers outside the guest room window and cast floral shadows across the ivory bedspread. She screwed her eyes shut to hold onto the prescient state for as long as she could, knowing it would evaporate as soon as it was exposed to light.
In the library, she tucked her grey blonde curls behind her ears and placed the stylus at the edge of a record. Jackson C. Frank’s Milk and Honey rose from the stereo speakers as she curled up in a red leather chair. The scent of the music was tender, pure. Even the scratchy pits between verses were soothing. She stared at a canvas bundle on top of the desk and fought the urge to grab a cigarette from the nine-year-old pack of Chesterfields stashed away in the top drawer.
She drew a bath, eased herself into the tub and lingered in the perfumed water. She took her time styling her hair and applying touches of bronzer, mascara and gloss. She chose an orange satin robe and a tortoiseshell belt from Jana’s wardrobe and paired them with her own maroon leggings. She adjusted the floral crown before giving herself a final once over in the mirror and heading downstairs.
She stood up from the chair, cut the burlap twine with scissors and freed the parcel from its canvas wrapping. All these years later, the marble of the Celtic cross she chiseled at the women’s retreat glowed brighter than she remembered, but she told herself it was the heightened contrast against the evening sky. She brushed down the front of her lavender bias cut gown, drew her grey pashmina tightly around her shoulders, and straightened her crown before turning her eyes toward the sound of footfall on the steps.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look like Carol Kane?”
“A few times. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did.”
“Dinner’s ready. I hope you like lamb gumbo.”
“I love it.”
The air felt unseasonably warm as Jana lit tapers and opened the French doors. After dinner, Odette perused the record collection in the library and selected Dead Can Dance’s Within the Realm of a Dying Sun.
Music rose from the library and into the garden through the outdoor speakers. She noticed Jana’s nearly empty glass and picked up the bottle of wine to refresh it.
“You know what Peter Lorre would say right now, don’t you?”
“No, what?”
Jana grabbed the bottle and filled the glass to the top. “Don’t be so stingy!”
They laughed. Jana raised the glass and brought it to her lips.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Neither do I.”
“Ready, then?”
“Yes. Let’s go get my bird. Follow me.”
They carried a large box, two shovels and an empty suitcase to a clearing at the base of the garden in front of the oak trees. After they set the box down, Jana felt inside of it and pulled out a crayon drawing. It had been waterlogged at one point and was stiffened with age. She studied the image of a healing forest and yellow moon.
“We’re at the right place. This is Finn’s healing forest. My bird is buried right here.” Jana pointed out a stick marked by a tattered and filthy shred of fabric.
They each grabbed a shovel and started digging.
Something thudded under their shovels a few minutes later. Jana thrust her hand into the cool dirt and unveiled a weathered pine box with cracked purple paint.
“Here it is.” She handed the box to Odette, who placed it carefully to the side.
When the hole was deep enough, they spread a blanket on the ground, sat and rested.
Jana opened the suitcase and placed it halves up on the grass.
“Ready?”
Odette nodded.
Dead Can Dance's Summoning of the Muse blared from the garden speakers as they rose to their knees, reached into the box, and placed items into the suitcase.
Odette added the Queen of Clubs card.
Jana added Finn’s drawing.
Odette added an astronomy book.
Jana added Calvin’s antique Hungarian puppets and Pysanka eggs.
Odette added a Malibu Christie doll.
Jana added Calvin’s Wile E Coyote mug.
Odette added sets of Earth Born and Dimension shampoo and conditioner, respectively.
“You know Courteney Cox was in a Dimension shampoo commercial before she got famous, right?”
“That was her?”
Odette added the bottle of Folie à Deux Chardonnay.
Jana added a bag of apples, pecans and carrots.
Odette added an envelope of instant oatmeal.
Jana fumbled with the clasp of the Celtic cross necklace that Ells gave her and added it to the suitcase.
Odette added her silver metallic scarf.
Jana added her stethoscope and lab coat.
Odette added the leather bound copy of Clark Ashton Smith’s The End of the Story.
“Is that it?”
“Is it?”
“What about the love and peace notes?”
“Let’s do it.”
Jana reached into the box and took out a bundle of parchment paper scraps and a fountain pen. She wrote a note on the first scrap and placed it in the suitcase before passing the pen to Odette.
I love you, Russell and Cal - Peace, Jana
I love you, Mama - Peace, Odette
Forgive me Lonnie and Moose - Peace, Jana
Sorry about your ankle, Mollie - Peace, Odette
You’re not my real Dad - Peace, Jana
They added the integrifola crowns to the top of the pile and latched the suitcase shut. They placed it in the hole and covered it with dirt. When they were finished, they marked the site with the marble monument, sat back down on the blanket, and waited. Jana was the first to break the silence.
“If we’re going do this right, shouldn’t we be singing?”
“Maybe, but I’m tired from all the digging. Want some more wine?”
“Of course.”
They opened a second bottle and finished the leftover cheese and olive plate. Odette took out her phone and looked at Facebook. A distracted Jana prattled nervously.
“Maybe we should hold hands and do a circle dance around the monument. I’m serious. Aren’t we supposed to get a sign?”
“I guess, but look! Cat memes.”
Jana’s face turned ashen.
“I'm just kidding. Don't get angry.”
Jana pointed off into the distance. Odette turned to face the same direction.
"Holy shit.”
A parliament of spotted owls guarded the entrance. They parted at the sight of Jana and revealed the access to a gazebo made of spider silk. Fireflies lit the structure like icicle lights. It attached itself to the spires of the house and stretched outward to the grove of oak trees where it knotted itself along the gnarled, ancient trunks. Grey spiders as large as cats hovered in random folds. Some extended the length of their graceful legs provocatively while grooming themselves. Others wrapped their bodies around quilted sacs to protect their glassy eggs. Beneath the canopy sprawled a colorful labyrinth of flowers and vines.
Jana stood up and led the way into the labyrinth. A chestnut colored spider extended a leg and waved it towards Odette.
“It wants to show you something. Give it your hand,” Jana urged. Odette tentatively extended her hand. The spider sensed her fear and gently brushed against her fingertips with its downy fur before extending another leg to Jana. She grasped it timidly and allowed the spider to lead them deeper inside.
They staggered beneath the prismatic objects interwoven in the walls. Stethoscopes. Violas. Oversized martini glasses. A hummingbird flew out of the lattice and trailed a visible mist of silver and pearls before nestling itself comfortably on Jana’s shoulder. She gently stroked the bird and put an arm around Odette.
“What is it?”
“I’m supposed to show you a message in the flowers.”
The hummingbird flew to an orange blossom and waited.
“Osmunda.” Jana stepped aside as Odette pressed her nose against the bud. “Remember your dreams. Adonis Vernalis. Don’t suppress or deny bitter memories. It never works.”
She pointed to a vine curling into the giant web. “Bearded Crepis. Don’t lead with fear. You’re protected.”
“Carolina Rose. Love is dangerous, but do it anyway. Chorozema Varium. Don't measure your worth by a love affair. Your value is internal.”
“How do you know all this?”
Jana chuckled. “You’re not my real dad!”
A halo of fireflies illuminated their terrifying beauty as they joined hands and spun around in a circle. They were two women waltzing madly in danger’s court, no longer seeking solace in security, and looking eagerly towards the next dance.
They reached the densest patch of the labyrinth at the blackest point of night. An emboldened vine buried itself into the small of Jana’s back and coiled possessively around her like a wreath of armor. It scratched her temple with a pointed thorn and drew a blood drop that glistened black in the night sky.
“Ouch!”
Odette tried to pull it off, but Jana refused the assistance. She wrenched herself free with an audible succession of snaps and crunches.
The blood drop pooled onto a waxy looking cluster of pale yellow berries. “Whortleberry. You will come to know treachery. Butterfly Weed. Let it go. Celandine. Future joy will come.”
They stopped to rest. The gazebo rocked back and forth as they stretched out on their backs. Intrigued, the spiders lowered themselves to have a closer look at their visitors. The weight of their bodies lowered a corner of the gazebo to the ground and created a makeshift swing. Jana and Odette carefully climbed inside. The spiders gently rocked them back and forth.
“Do you suppose she’s happy, Jana?”
“She’s not bitter, if you believe what the flowers say. She knew treachery, but she let it go. She looks forward to future joy.”
“Where?”
“Back home, I guess.”
The chestnut spider was busy weaving a bar cluttered with an array of oversized martini glasses. A second spider plucked two of the woven glasses and placed them on a tray. She approached the women politely and offered them a drink.
“It’s official, Jana. We are officially certifiable. And scene.”
Jana rolled her eyes. “Stop judging. It’s our folie à deux. We can see what we want. And it’s happy hour! Why complain?”
Jana took a woven glass from the tray and sipped eagerly. “Don’t mind if I do.” She scooped an olive from the bottom of the glass and popped it into her mouth. “Delicious!”
The spider lingered at Odette’s side and offered her a drink. “No, thank you,” she said. It bowed politely and began to crawl away.
“Wait! I’ll take it!” Jana screeched. She threw her empty glass onto the woven tray and eagerly snatched up Odette’s drink. She reached into her tangled mop of waist length grey curls, scooped out a handful of fireflies and threw them in the spider’s direction.
“Thank you!”
The sun cautiously peeked into the eastern corner of the trees as Jana sipped the martini. “Future joy will come,” she whispered.
“Did you say something?” Odette yawned.
“I used to think that if I followed the North Star, if I was lucky enough to catch it and pull it down from the sky, that’s where she would be. Why do we always go at length to search for things when they end up being right under our noses? There’ll be no future joy until I make things right." She looked down at her lavender dress and looked up at the sky. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, Lonnie! I wish you could see the world today. The rainbows and pots of gold were so close! You just never got to find them because I got in the way. You were never the fool. I was. Still am. And I can’t keep hiding forever. I have to face it. Will you help me, Odette?”
Odette was snoring gently. Trying to be as still as possible, Jana unfastened the shawl from her shoulders and nestled it around the younger woman's body. The spiders remembered their duties as the sun began to rise and gradually retreated back into the high corners.
“Pots of gold,” she murmured. The martini glass slipped through her fingers and stuck to the side of the swing. Sounds of morning filled the landscape from all directions as she curled her body against the swing, bowed her head and slept.
She awoke to sunlight a few hours later and gazed at the sleeping girl beside her.
“Morning.”
“What time is it?”
“I don’t know. You took the day off, remember?”
“Uh huh.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Strange.”
“Me, too.”
“Jana?”
Odette examined the skin at the base of her clavicles with her fingertips. It was perfectly smooth without a trace of scar tissue.
“Let me see.” Jana leaned in closer to look at Odette’s throat. The scar was gone. In the distance, the unearthed painted box lay open and empty on top of the blanket.
“We did it.”
Odette brushed down the surface of her orange satin robe and rolled up the sleeves. The deeply etched scars on her wrists were still visible.
She looked at Jana and shook her head. “But I don’t understand. That can’t be right. These aren’t mine. I didn’t do this.”
Jana closed her eyes mournfully and extended her hand. Odette grasped it and continued to shake her head in denial. As her stomach carried th
e truth to the surface, the denial in her eyes gave way to confusion and acceptance.
“No,” she whispered. Her eyes filled with tears.
Jana covered the younger woman’s hands with her own and lovingly traced the scars with her fingertips before drawing her close.
“It’s okay.”
As she allowed herself to be rocked, she was overpowered by a sensation of resin that made her choke. The volume swelled deeply inside her chest and flowed inside her ears and mouth. She knew it would never go away completely. Because it was hers. And that was okay. There would be plenty of room for breathing once the curing process began. That’s how resin worked, anyway. Or maybe it was mortar.
Jana wrapped her pashmina snugly around Odette’s shoulders, unrolled the robe sleeves and covered her wrists demurely. “Let’s get you inside. I’ll make beignets for breakfast. And a pot of chicory coffee. Would you like that like?”
Odette nodded.
Jana led her out of the garden and into the house through the open french doors. She made sure she was settled at the nook in front of the kitchen window before quietly leaving the room.
In the library, she tucked her grey blonde curls behind her ears and placed the stylus at the edge of a record. Louis Armstrong’s When the Saints Go Marching In rose from the outdoor speakers and filled the kitchen with song. The scent of the music was robust, exhilarating. Even the scratchy pits between verses cooled the breath inside her nostrils. She stared at the canvas wrapping where the marble cross used to be, opened the top desk drawer and threw the nine-year-old pack of Chesterfields into the wastebasket. Then she walked back into the kitchen and grabbed coffee, sugar and flour out of the pantry. She set them down on the counter and filled the coffeepot with water.
From her seat at the kitchen nook, a breeze outside the window lingered at her eyelids and chest. In a flurry of movement, it seized her chin and kissed her squarely on the lips. She cried out in surprise.
“Are you okay?” Jana was hunched down on her hands and knees in front of a large storage drawer. She emerged with an ancient cast iron pan and followed Odette’s eyes to the scene outside the window. Together, they watched as the breeze floated away and joined the wildflowers in a frenetic dance around the monument.
