Pack Wood, Feed Stoves
The next morning she sprang out of bed and went right to her
mom's bedroom door. She lightly tapped and said, "Mom, are you awake?"
No answer. Eager for answers and acting like a child on Christmas morning, all
the rules vanished, and she went in her mom's room. She was gone. The bed was
untouched, and the room showed no visible sign that her mom had been there. She
went into the den to look outside the window for her car.
"Oh, my God."
"What?!" Julia asked from behind her as she was going
downstairs. Intuition told her not to mention the visit, and after hemming and
hawing told her, "I, uh, just remembered, that, um, I don't like driving in
the snow." Pretty lame, she thought. Julia raised her eyebrow and said
grumpily, "Get over it," then proceeded downstairs to the kitchen.
Jesse returned her attention to the parking lot and saw the tire tracks in the
snow leading to Julia's van, and the rest of the lot completely unmarked. Where
were the tracks her mom's car should have left?
Jesse silently followed Julia into the kitchen, and after
getting the coffee on and breakfast going, slipped out and went into the great
room to the couch where she had seen her mom last, as though this might prove
she'd really been there last night. On the seat of the couch was a pin that
Jesse was fairly certain had not been there before now. She picked it up, turned
it over and read the inscription: My Wings.
"All right, now this is getting creepy," she whispered
to the empty room. Had that been her mom last night? Had it been a dream? It
couldn't have been a dream, because how had the pin gotten here? It was curious
that Julia hadn't woken up. How come her mom hadn't given her the pin last
night? And where was she, and why wouldn't she have said good-bye, or left a
note if she was going out. Yeah, right, her mom going out before seven o'clock
in the morning. It had to have been her last night, but not a her that Jesse
recognized too well. She sighed heavily and stood dazed. In an attempt to
restore her equilibrium, she fixed her eyes on the wall clock, but after a
minute or so didn't feel any different, but felt assured she was still in the
time and space continuum.
She fondled the pin as it lay in her hand, "So,
you're my wings?" Jesse looked at the pin expectantly, and would not have
been the least bit surprised at this point if it had answered her back.
"Not much of a ceremony."
She released her analysis of the events; her
own examination wasn't likely to be very useful anyway. Somehow, this was beyond
human logic, and she could live with that. Jesse didn't mind the unexplainable,
and in some way it made life seem more real. Think how dull and monotonous this
would all be if nothing extraordinary ever happened. We wouldn't even know what
extraordinary was; we would go through our lives in a robotic routine that never
challenged our mind to expand and stretch beyond what our senses could detect.
She went back upstairs, took a shower, and as she got dressed made herself blush
by examining the backs of her shoulders for sprouting wings. She felt too
self-conscious wearing the pin, but wanted to keep it near so she put it in her
pocket. Her thinking was getting her nowhere constructive, and she knew she
needed to slow down and quiet her mind.
Jesse did not receive any mind-blowing revelations from the
meditation, but the inspirations tended to come to her later when she was
focusing on something else. She remembered during her time at a spiritual
retreat, hearing other students talk about their very animated, demonstrative
meditations, and compared them to her constant, repetitive attempts to just be
quiet. She let herself feel inferior until she had a conversation with a fellow
student, Eric, a ministerial candidate from Costa Rica who led an abstinent gay
lifestyle. One morning, she was sitting on the grass between classes, and he
very deliberately came over to her. He walked a lot, but Jesse rarely saw him
stop to talk to anyone during these walks. Inside he was sociable, and Jesse
thought perhaps his walks were his meditations.
He plopped down next to her on
the grass and asked Jesse what was going on. Not bothering with small talk, she
told him she felt inferior compared to her classmates regarding her meditations,
yet prior to hearing their tales she had felt pretty good about her quiet time.
She struggled constantly just to shut up, and found paradise each time she
arrived in that little space in between thoughts. Here is what it boils down to,
she told him. This is her meditation ritual; how she readies herself to enter
the sacred space where only she and God exist; the upper room of her
consciousness: she shuts up. Again and again and again, until the space in
between not shutting up gets longer. Her classmates seemed to have adventures
during their meditations, and it was like comparing a boring stroll through the
park and an action packed day at Disneyland, Jesse told him. It just seemed like
they were having more fun.
"Do you walk, Jesse?" He asked.
"Yes, I've always walked. It's my relaxation." She
answered, knowing he was going somewhere.
"Have you ever been to Disneyland?" He asked.
"Yes, I grew up near there and used to go once or twice a
year."
"Do you enjoy walking everyday?" Okay, I'm getting
it, Jesse realized.
"Yes."
"Would you enjoy going to Disneyland everyday?"
"Okay, no, I get it. Thank you."
"You’re welcome." He got up and continued his walk.
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