The Return
Page 2
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One night Lydia dreamed she was on the witness stand in a courtroom being asked questions. The attorney, deliberately standing to one side so that all could see her answer, asked what punishment was deserved. “Would you have them hanged?”
“No, no. They were good people.” She felt herself squirming, wanting to get away, but something held her fast.
“But you know the law.” The voice was accusing, the figure approach-ing her, lips curled. “You reap what you sow. Treachery reaps treachery. Murder reaps murder.”
“But they loved us! That counts for something! Leaving wasn’t their fault!” She looked down at her mother, at a table facing the judge and witness stand, seeing the confusion on her face.
‘Lydia, what law?’
It was then that the words seemed to come through her as if some other worldly element was using her voice.
The law of karma, Mother. In some prior lifetime you killed someone—innocently perhaps, or deliberately—in this last lifetime you were killed and that bad karma was laid to rest. In each lifetime we have a chance to atone for those bad things we’ve done in past lives. Life after life we do good things and bad things and reap the consequences. If we don’t learn to be sorry for hurting others, we set ourselves up to be hurt. If we learn to love our enemies, we reap a love beyond human. If we continue grudges we continue to experience others’ anger and hate. We learn what it’s like to be poor, and rich, to have different skin colors, to be a man or a woman. It’s all school, Mother. We pass from grade to grade. You know about school.
Then the dream changed and Lydia felt herself dropping, as if from a cloud, as if she had been taken on a trip, and was being deposited back on her bed. Her eyes flew open, and she found herself sitting up perspiring, bedclothes twisted around her. The courtroom had seemed so real. The words she had spoken so real. But she was a teacher of hatha yoga. Not a teacher of karma yoga. Not a teacher of dream subjects. Mother, Mother, Mother, she moaned. What are you bringing into my life? How am I supposed to answer your questions? You’ve gone on, you’re on the other side. I’m not your adviser. I’m not your teacher. It was early morning, the sun not yet up. Others in the house were still sleeping. But now that she was awake Lydia got up, tiptoed quietly to the bathroom and started her daily routine.
In her meditations now, Lydia felt not only the presence of the spiritual Masters she believed guided her, but the one who called her name, the one who was waiting, there at the edge of her consciousness.
One evening, when Lydia was in the kitchen chopping up fresh vegetables for stir-frying, Carrie suddenly asked “So, what’s up, Lydia? Isn’t it time you let us in on what’s bothering you?” Carrie didn’t look at her, just kept on pulling dishes out of the cupboard and setting the table for the eight permanent residents. They were between retreats right now and with no classes for a couple weeks, Lydia had other duties. They all did.
Lydia stopped cutting and scooped up vegetables into a pan, measuring with her eye how much more they needed. “You mean it’s that obvious?”
“Well, I’m not trying to be nosy, but I know your sister’s been calling you a lot. And I know for a fact you get up in the night.” Carrie smiled over at Lydia. “The floorboards squeak,” she explained.
“And how would you know that unless you were up too?”
“Just awake. Not up.” Carrie placed silverware at each plate. “I’m a light sleeper and your room is right over mine. I’m not complaining, understand. It’s not the noise I mind. It’s your being troubled I mind.”
“Okay. For your peace of mind, I’ll tell you.” Lydia explained about the house standing empty and the community thinking something should be done about it. Lydia pulled out more carrots from the refrigerator and began peeling them.
“She wants to live there?”
“Well, it’s got lots of memories.”
“And?”
Lydia sighed. “My parents were murdered when Margie and I were little. Not in the house, but next door, in the gym. The New Hope school gym. We didn’t even get to go to the funeral. Just got packed up and sent to live with our aunt and uncle in Chicago.” Lydia rushed through this little speech while peeling carrots and discovered that now she had more than enough.
“Wow,” Carrie said. “So you’ve got some good-byes to make, is that it?” She came over and touched Lydia on the arm. “Honey, Mr. Taylor will understand if you want to take some time off.”
“But I don’t want to take time off,” Lydia said as she sat down. “It’s all past. I’ve moved on. And going back just reopens those resentments that my parents were murdered because someone didn’t like them being against the Vietnam war. That’s the bottom line. And how could that happen in New Hope?”
“Well, I guess they have karma in New Hope just like everywhere else.” Carrie had heated up water and brought Lydia a cup of tea. “Tension tamer,” she said. “It works.”
“Thanks.” Lydia put her one hand around the warm mug and sloshed the tea bag around with the other.
“There’s always reasons we’re given opportunities,” Carrie said. She sat down opposite her and folded her hands. “And if this is provoking dreams, I’d say there’s someone needing you.”
“Oh, right.” My mother, the ghost, Lydia thought. She looked into her tea. “You know, we’ve talked about the energy that people have around them. And sometimes, people who’ve had a sudden and violent passing leave behind an energy they can’t quite bring into the astral world where they’re supposed to go. Tramp souls, they’re sometimes called. Well, my mother, my own mother, a wonderfully sane person who probably never believed in a spirit world, seems to be...around. It’s so absurd.”
Carrie smiled. Her dark eyes sparkled. “We’ll put you and your mother in our healing prayers tonight. Maybe you’ll dream an answer to your question.”
“My question?”
“Whether New Hope is calling you.”
“New Hope. Now you’re broadening it. Making it sound like a mission. Don’t put thoughts in my head.” Lydia frowned and got up to start heating a pan of water to boil up the rice.
Carrie just laughed.
Chapter 2