Maya's Aura: The Refining Page 8

  She waited for questions or a comment, but there were none. They had been shushed. They were well-trained professionals. They would listen until she was finished. "What if what happened when the cat died, was not me killing the cat, but me killing the toxoplasmosis. Is that possible? Could it be that the disease was so advanced in the brain, that killing the disease killed the cat?"

  "Are you finished?" asked Karl. She nodded. "You assume a lot, but then you have brought together many different ideas at once. Always risky from the point of view of logic."

  She yawned theatrically, and Erik laughed. Karl changed his flow. "You assume that psychopaths are linked to the charred toast smell, and that the cat was a psychopath, and that the cat's psychosis was caused by the toxoplasmosis. Those are just the main assumptions. There are more."

  Erik spoke out. "To prove or disprove it means seeing if the same thing happens with other cats with the same disease, and seeing if non-diseased cats survive. And that is just to see if the theory is worth pursuing."

  "Like I said," Karl whispered, "Occam's Razor. QED."

  "I am not going to run around trying to kill cats," she complained. "I love cats."

  "Actually," said Karl, "according to the article you are basing all this on, it may be the disease that makes you love cats. The article is about how toxoplasmosis changes the mental behavior of cats and mice so that it, the disease, can prosper and procreate."

  "This is my project," said Erik. "I will do some more research and come up with the least distasteful way of exploring the theory. I think Maya has quite enough to think about, worry about," he put his arm around her shoulders, "cry about."

  "Scope creep," observed Karl.

  "Big time," agreed Eric.

  "What are you guys talking about?" she moaned.

  "Never mind, love," said Karl and walked away. He had some emails to write before tomorrow morning.

  "He means that we should concentrate on what our original project was all about, which was to explore and measure your aura. Of what you observed today, the only thing that fits into what we already know, is that you smelled charred toast, and your aura went supernova. Which came first?" He made some notes and waited for her answer.

  He sat there wearing two towels, teasing her when she was so horny she wanted to scream, and expecting her to answer a puzzle. She closed her eyes and tried to replay her memories. "The same time. They were so close. I don't know."

  "Think, Maya. It could be vital. Up until now, you had sensed the charred toast before your aura had built in strength. This is the first time that that your aura was strong before you sensed it."

  "Why is this vital?"

  "Because with the cat your conscious mind was not involved at all. Your subconscious did not say, ' well I have sensed toast, do you want me to kill it or not?'. It went all Rambo supernova and did the deed."

  "Oh dear," she said and hugged closer to him. "I purposefully did not build my aura. I assumed such a small animal would not need a strong aura. It was barely awake."

  "And it went supernova from barely awake?" He was typing madly into his notes. "I'll have to give this some thought."

  "What about the toxoplasmosis?"

  "Interesting, but we already have too much on our plate." Erik kissed her forehead. "Sweetie, could I ask you not to sleep with us tonight? I need some one-on-one time in bed with Karl, just to remind him who his main squeeze is." He waited for a response. The only one he got was a slamming bedroom door.

  * * *

  * * *

  MAYA'S AURA - the Refining by Skye Smith

  Chapter 6 - In present day San Francisco

  The latte was waiting for her on the coffee shop table when she arrived. Chuck's friend John shrugged his shoulders. "We knew you were coming because those straight guys in the window spotted you and started rubbernecking."

  "Chuck's in a bad way," she said as the men all moved around the table to allow her to sit next to John. "He says it's because he was running yesterday. Did you see his video clip on the web?"

  "Masterful, frightening, disturbing," the adjectives flowed out of the group. "How did you get it over the hump and into viral territory so soon?"

  "That is a secret," Maya lowered her voice. "A little gremlin helped us."

  "Hackers?"

  "Shhh." she said, looking around nervously. She would hate for Ted to get into trouble. She sipped at her latte and watched the news on TV. Everything was quiet in the streets of San Francisco, so they were showing footage of 'the Glover' walking through crowds shaking hands."

  "John, if I wanted to be introduced to a big name politician in this town, who would be the woman to know?"

  "To introduce you to him?" said the man on the other side. "Why not just dress in something fancier and do your hair up and bump into him, accidental-like."

  "She'd rather not deal with the consequences, that's why," said John. "Let me think. Woman, rich, powerful. I trust you aren't interested in the bimbos that married the dot com millionaires."

  "Someone older, maybe in poor health," she replied while blowing on her latte to cool it. She raised her eyes and saw that every eye at the window table was on her.

  "Gladys Muir," said John and another man simultaneously. John continued, "She's the original old battleaxe. Owns half of Sea Cliff. Owns a newspaper chain. Runs everything herself now that her husband is dead. Almost never comes out in public anymore because she refuses to be seen with a walker."

  "And how would I meet her?"

  "Ah, there lies the problem. You don't. The reason politicians clamor for her attention, is that she doesn't give it. She is like a hermit, sequestered in her tower, and surrounded by guards and efficient spinsters that keep her secrets." John shrugged. "You asked."

  "Bayer's Gallery," said the old man across from her. "It has a photo collection show opening on the weekend that she will be sure to attend." He motioned to the table in the window. "Say, pass the entertainment section of the Chronicle over to the lady, will you?"

  Hands jumped to grab the section so the winner could walk over and hand it to Maya. She smiled sweetly at the young man. Young, he had five years on her. She had to stop hanging out with old fags all the time.

  She found the notice of the gallery opening. "Preview opening by invitation only. What does that mean?"

  "It means," said John, "that peons like us don't get in."

  * * *

  * * *

  MAYA'S AURA - the Refining by Skye Smith

  Chapter 7 - Three years earlier in Kitsilano, Vancouver

  She waited until both guys had both driven off to work before she opened her bedroom door. She felt humiliated and the only way she knew how to react to that was with the cold shoulder. She would be invisible until they came looking for her to see what was wrong. She had some soul food and read the back of the Honey Nut Oatios box while she ate two bowls full. Canadian flip sides were more interesting than American flip sides because they were all in French.

  She put on her Judo clothes and walked slowly towards Mister Li's shop. Today she wandered under and around the willow trees and watched the children play in the playground and wondered what she was going to tell Lin. What could she tell her? She couldn't go on.

  "Why not?" asked Lin when Maya finally blubbed it out. Her mother demanded simultaneous translation and Lin obliged her.

  "I was practicing my healing with a sick cat yesterday. Poof. Dead. It was tragic, but a hard lesson. Face it, I am just guessing about my aura. I am wandering in the darkness. I don't want you to go 'poof' dead. That would haunt me for the rest of my life."

  "What if we bring the monk in here and have him direct your powers?"

  She didn't understand the translation but Mrs. Li went apeshit.

  "My mother has vetoed that idea. Maya, what you are not understanding is that I am already dead, I just haven't stopped breathing yet. I feel much better today, so I think what you did before had a positive effect. Why not do the same thing again?"<
br />
  "I already told you why not. Poof. Dead."

  "You mean the cat's head exploded or something? Was it messy and painful?" Lin asked out of curiosity.

  "No, actually. One second it was alive, the next it was completely dead. No violence. Not a mark on it."

  "When my time comes, do you know how I will die?"

  "I don't want to know," whispered Maya, "truly, please don't tell me."

  "You white power, you monk power, you must help" the old woman interrupted them angrily.

  "Why does she always call me white power, monk power?" Maya asked.

  "She means you have the power of the white monks, but because you are a woman and therefore this is impossible, she separates the words white and monk." Lin looked at Maya and saw the blank look. "White monks are from legend. They can destroy evil with one touch. Evil is black, therefore good must be white. Yin yang. Opposites."

  "There are six billion people in the world," muttered Maya, "which means like, sixty million psychopaths. I think the world needs more than a white monk. Is that monk Sarthani a white monk?"

  Mrs. Li went off on a rant. She said a lot, and in anger.

  "Sarthani is not a white monk. He is not even a monk, he is an abbot, or at least he would be if he were stupid enough to return to Burma. At least for a day until the military dictators had him shot. My mother likes him but does not trust him with you. She believes he plans on capturing you so his order can use your powers to their ends."

  "What, like, this is the twenty-first century? Your mother needs to get real."

  "This is the twenty-first century in Vancouver, but not in Rangoon. In Rangoon it is still 1948. In the rest of Burma it is still 1763. Sarthani is an abbot, which means he is reborn. My mother believes that a white monk has been reborn and has become you."

  Mrs. Li cackled and talked to her daughter, and they both laughed.

  "My mother says that the hunter of tigers has been reborn as a goat."

  "Huh?"

  "In Burma when a hunter stalks a tiger, he sits safely in a tree with his weapon and ties a goat to a sacrificial stake beneath him and then waits for the tiger to come for the goat."

  "She is calling me a goat?"

  "Actually she called you a lamb, but I changed it to goat so that the story would be correct." She wriggled out of her night gown. "Please try."

  Maya took her jacket off but left her pants on. The linen silk weave was so comfortable that it was all she wore. She prayed over the woman until her aura rose, but stopped before it was as strong as the day before. She then explored the woman's back with her floating hand. "The black has become dark gray, and the gray has become light gray. Okay, I will try. Mama, no more than a minute at a time."

  * * *

  They left Lin sleeping peacefully and Mrs. Li took her downstairs to the garden to practice Tai Chi. The monk was patiently waiting for them sitting in the lotus position under a tree filled with green apples. She did not understand what they said to each other but Mrs. Li and Sarthani seemed to be insulting each other.

  Mrs. Li chose to ignore his presence and proceeded with her lesson. First the warm up, like slow motion marshal arts, then the faster waves of defensive moves, then working at the punching bag with her fingers and hands.

  She thought she was getting better. It was all about timing. The punching bag was always moving ever so slightly. You wanted to connect with it when it was already moving away from you. This meant you had to time the sequence of building the movement in your body from your back leg through your body, through your attacking arm, and into your hand. It wasn't easy. Time and time again she released her blow too late, but finally, just once, the heavy punch bag jumped away from her hand, while her hand had seemed not to move.

  "That is enough, old woman," called the monk. "You have kept me waiting too long to be respectful. Bring her to me."

  "You should have asked me, not her," Maya replied.

  "You are the student, she is your master. There is protocol involved, despite her disrespect."

  "What do you know about toxoplasmosis?" she asked as she sat close and facing him in the lotus position.

  "A wasting disease of cats that can spread to man. Often deadly in cats, rarely deadly in man. Why do you ask?"

  "Have you ever seen writings connecting it to auras?"

  "I will research it for you, if you do me a small favor this morning," He pushed a flat ornate wooden box between them. He faced it towards her and opened it. Inside were five crystals set on thick silken woven chords. "I have five monks with me in Vancouver. These are their crystals. Could you please bless them for me?"

  Mrs. Li came close and looked over Maya's shoulder. The monk spoke in English to her. "Please stay away from them, old woman. I do not want a woman corrupting them."

  "Then what am I?" asked Maya. "Do you not fear that I will corrupt them?"

  "You are a great man temporarily in the disguise of a woman. It is not the same."

  Mrs. Li was going into the shop. Maya though this strange because she always hovered as a chaperone. She returned, walking Lin slowly down into the garden. Joy came too, and rolled a carpet out on the grass for her mother to lie on. Then the old man joined them and the small family all made themselves comfortable on the carpet.

  The monk bowed to Master Li, and allowed it. While he was bowing, Maya picked up all five crystals and one by one hung them around her neck. They hung between her breasts so she leaned forward so that they would not touch her skin, then she slipped her arms out of her jacket.

  The monk reached his hand forward as if to interfere, but at the sight of so much womanly skin he pulled it back again. "Would it not be better to do them one at a time?"

  "I'll do it my way," she said. Besides, she didn't want to be here all day if she could do them all at once. She put her clasped hands in front of her breasts so the crystals were between her chest and her hands. She stayed like that a moment, and then pulled her hands closer and lower so they were pointed up between her breasts in that spot that so many people had recently told her was heaven.

  She closed her eyes, and everyone closed their eyes with her, and she felt her aura rise. She thought of Lin and prayed for her to get better, and she felt the aura turning white with a hint of floral, and then milk white. It seemed to stay milk white for a long time, and then she felt heat between her breasts, rising heat, hotter and hotter, and then her aura became brilliant and within a breath went super nova.

  She pulled the crystals' chords over her head and put the crystals down clumsily into the box and grabbed her elbows as fast as she could. It seemed forever before she could bring it back to just milk white, and then it softened quickly until it was almost asleep. She opened her eyes, fearing the worst, but hoping that no one around her was dead. She looked around her. They were all laid out as if asleep.

  Joy was the closest to her and she crawled over to her and checked her vital signs. She was in a trance. She continued around, and each thankfully was still alive and in a trance. The last was the monk. At her touch he sat up and resumed the lotus, but did not open his eyes.

  She went back to Lin and sat close to her and lifted her pitiful bald head into her lap and gently stroked where her hair should have flowed. She watched as the monk opened his eyes and reached forward to the box, and carefully, without touching them shook the crystals into their places and closed the lid.

  "Thank you," he said rising to his feet. He bowed and walked towards the back door. "I must get these to my followers while they are still warm from your breast."

  As soon as the abbot had gone, Joy crawled over and lay full length beside her mother and wrapped one of her mother's arms around her.

  "Bizarre," said Maya as she let out her breath.

  "Very bizarre," agreed Joy, "like, way bizarro."

  "You go now," said Mrs. Li, "this family time. Husband help get Lin back up to bed."

  She stood and made a stiff bow to her two Tai Chi teachers and walked towards
the back door.

  "Girl," called out Master Li. "you want apples for your kitchen? You pick."

  "I will come back when they are ripe," she said, and her eyes followed where he was pointing. The lowest apples on the tree now had yellow and red spots on their skin. She stood there in shock, while Master Li picked a half dozen and handed them to her.

  Mrs. Li called out to her, "No need come tomorrow. Too much today. Skip day."

  She waved and walked through the shop to the front door, and home.

  For the rest of the day she locked herself in her bedroom with the box of soul food and watched all the Disney cartoons she had enjoyed when she was five. They were non-stop on the babysitting channels on cable. The guys both got home late, and knocked on her locked door, and were told to screw off.

  * * *

  * * *

  The trouble with munching Honey Nut Oatios along with hours of cartoons, is that when you wake up in the morning, there are none left. She had waited until the guys had headed off to work and then she scoured the kitchen cupboards for more soul food. Bloody Erik refused to stock junk food because he was keeping Karl on a low carb diet. Poor Karl was not even supposed to eat sushi rice. She would have killed for some corn chips, or some potato chips, or even white bread. Anything American with a shelf life of a hundred years.

  The only thing she found, way at the back of a high cupboard, was some large bars of Belgian dark chocolate. She thought of her new Belgian friend, Marique, and wondered how she could get in touch with her without going to Wreck Beach. She frantically unwrapped the chocolate and melted it into a pot, and stirred in copious amounts of Cayenne pepper. At least she could have Mayan soul food.

  She poured the molten choco mass as drops in tiny cupcake papers so that they would cool quickly. She was just moaning over the first samples that had cooled when she heard honking car horns outside, and shortly afterwards the doorbell rang.

  She skipped to the door and swung it wide and while squinting unseeing into the glare of sun and fog, she called out that she had something on the stove and then raced back to the stove before she had a chocolate disaster on her hands. She lifted the pot just in time, and made the last of the chocolate drops.