Riding her bike home from an early appointment, Wanda listens to "Crush with Eyeliner, " by R.E.M. on her headphones. The rhythm fuels the power in her legs. The crisp winter air implores movement, building a force field of internal heat.
Why does music have that affect on her body? On a scale from one to ten, ten indicative of dance-ablity to any beat, Wanda is an eleven.
Independently owned shops line Grand Avenue. "Williamsburg morphed into a hip neighborhood after all," Wanda ruminates. As a teen, this was one of the no-no neighborhoods. It's so hip and groovy now. Like Park Slope was before the yuppies moved in.
Williamsburg entices the senses into overload, a very New York experience. Defining gravity in color, graffiti murals flood the visual senses while seedy bars spill oily tunes into the street, tickling the tongue; sparking the brain. Velcro micro-filaments adhere sensory input into memory. Space unites with body merging into ownership. A bite of the Big Apple.
Residential two- and three-story homes nestle behind huge sycamores. Most are wood frame with faded aluminum siding. Wanda passes one of the city's housing projects when her phone rings.
Before the days of push button earbuds, she has to pull over to manage the technology. Annoyed by the interruption in her forward trajectory, she debates whether or not it can wait.
"There is a life changing movement upon you," Wanda hears inside her head. At that, she jumps off the seat at the curb startling a driver receiving the perfunctory honk and glower.
It's Lua. The name glares back at her. She bristles into wariness. A growl ripples in her belly. Wanda yanks off her gloves to activate the screen. The ethereal message melts into knowing, readying a cavern of fertile ground awaiting a seed of change.
It's unusual for her daughter not to wait until she's back. Wanda alarms, an urgent flood powers her limbs.
Destruction, dismemberment, altered reality; a quake rumbles up through the Earth, pushing her out of the small, human form into her Truth. Towering over the buildings, Earth Star anchored deep into the heart of Mother, Wanda unfolds through time and space, incorporeal, she readies to receive.
The hysteria of Lua sobs echo through the veil between worlds. "Mommy... Maze is dead! He was hit by a car." Wanda hesitates briefly. The angelic timelessness disregards urgency in death.
Searching to attach to Mother Bear aspect to respond, Wanda huffs, "What?" Mother Bear contains the energy into a physical relevance.
The energy reflected a disaster. Her first thoughts were about her children, not her cat. Embarrassed as she is relieved but also intrigued by the energetic response of her body. She focuses on Lua's need for comfort.
Lua continues," Jay found him and put him in the backyard." Lua wails, low to high, revealing a deep root of pain. Wanda waits. "He looks like he's asleep in the leaves," Lua pants.
Wanda remembers her daughter can hyper-ventilate in release of this much sorrow. "Breathe baby, breathe," Wanda advises and continues, "Wait for me. I want to hold you. Be home in 15."
"Okay," Lua howls into the receiver, abruptly cutting off the connection.
"Shit, shit, shit," Wanda can barely coordinate her body into any semblance of pedaling. The energy still courses, keeping her perspective in two places at once. "Come back," she demands of her senses. She needs to drive safely through these cars.
The awareness folds neatly into a geometric, vast universe of contained energy. It tucks into the ambient structure of Wanda's etheric bodies.
Her beautiful cat has been hit by a car? Maze was never happy indoors for long. He'd pee in frustration in her shoes, his adventurous spirit careened for movement. As the outside temperatures dropped, Wanda kept him in.
She remembers the last day he snuck out. Wanda was leaving for the yoga studio before the sun woke. Adjusting her helmet and putting on the lobster-claw gloves, Maze slipped out just as she opened it. Her peripheral vision obscured, she did not see him slip between her feet.
Wanda held the door to the building with one foot and guided the bike onto the patio, seeing Maze in the half light of dawn, she asks, "Ya wanna go out, do ya?" Speaking out loud was unnecessary as they connected through heart communication. Feeling him hesitate, she says," It's cold. I won't be back for a few hours."
"Here goes nothing," Wanda understands Mazey's response as he bolts down the stairs into the frigid morning air. This is not his usual effervescent, freedom seeking mode but Wanda dismisses it. She is urged to move for warmth.
The mind loves to contradict a heart message. She hadn't noticed he was still missing that night. When she happened upon Jay the next morning she asked him to keep an eye out for Maze. Jay always let Maze back in after one of his adventures. A few times Maze got into Jay's apartment downstairs and ate all his cat's food. Wanda knew this because Maze would barf in the hallway, letting her know he was unwell when she stepped in the squishy, warm mess in the early predawn hours.
Racing passed several people coming out of a bodega; an elderly woman with a cane and a group of young men stare in her direction. Sobbing audibly now, the sudden death increases her vulnerability. She publicly reveals her heartbreak.
"Everything is as it should be," Wanda grounds herself. The statement regulates her breathing, releasing tension from her body. Stopping abruptly in front of the house, she fights the urge to go directly to Maze and bounds up the stairs to Lua.
"I'm okay Mom," Lua says as they hold each other.
Wanda allows her emotions to brake away from her core. Lua mirrors the enormous heart space and Wanda peels back the moist muscle; spongy, stringy connectors to a molten, love that billows, bubbles, writhes vibrating in song. Black, thick, and muddy. Quaking before an eruption of vulnerability vomits in waves. Bars of strength bleed; energy pierces nano particles; it cannot withstand naked, raw, loss. Shaking, she says, "So much for grace."
Mustering a small smile, Wanda lifts her daughter's face in her hands.Lua's eyes are red and the tears drip off her cheeks falling onto her sweater. Noticing the warm-weather outfit, Wanda gives an inquisitive look.
"I need to get outta here," Lua answers the look.
Wanda understands. She's the same way, grieving better in solitude. "Okay. I'll get your brother from school and we'll bury Maze in the front yard. Do you want to prepare something for him?"
"I already wrote a letter."
Avoiding Maze in the backyard to contain her boiling mass of loss, Wanda rushes out to pick up her son early. The school clerk questions the removal.
Wanda blurts out, "Our pet died." Anxious about telling her son, Wanda forgives herself for being rude. The clerk seems unaffected by the exchange. Wanda prays the teacher doesn't reveal the reason before she can.
Xavier looks at her, brow furrowed. She takes his hand.
"I have some bad news." There's never a good way to say these things. "Mazey got hit by a car. He's dead." Even before she finishes her sentence his eyes fill with passion and rage.
"I'm gonna kill the guy who did this." Gripping Wanda's coat with both hands, he hides his face and wails.
"Let's go," Wanda whispers.
Regaining his composure, he puts on a heroic effort to make this okay. Once at the front yard of the house, he picks up the spade and starts hacking at the frozen ground.
Leaving him to purge over the grave site, Wanda walks around back. Pacing herself, she whispers, "You can do this. You have to." In a desperate hope, she prays its a different street cat.
From a distance, she sees the contrast of his black markings on the golden leaf pile. He's elegant. His fur shimmers. Drops of moisture reflect like glitter from the drizzling rain. Wanda checks for the familiar rise of his chest. "Could he be sleeping?" She approaches cautiously. "What if he's mangled from the car?" To her relief there isn't a mark on him.
Wanda still disbelieves he is dead until she touches him. Rigor mortise stiffens his limbs. Picking him up, she feels the weight of his lifeless form. It all sinks in. He's not here anymore. All her decorum leaves. The pain comes from far away, from memory of lifetimes of loss. The echo of her cry crashes between the walls of the two houses as she carries the stiff form down the driveway.
The Earth Star trembles buried in Gaia's core. Amplifying the perception of separation, a vision downloads into the here and now. Standing in another time, at a fresh dirt burial; she crawls in her robes. Acid vomit rolls up, filling the mouth.
Where is she? When is she? Its another lifetime. Witnessing three others twisted in agony. The mourners stand aside as the women crawl in the mud. Spewing, coughing, hurling grief as a conduit for others to access the pain. The wailing echoes, shifting her sight back to the present. The sound issuing from her amplifies the memory of loss through her many incarnations.
The emotion is exquisite. Allowing the fullness to run through her. Submerging into swamp muck and gurgling snot, the path resolves quickest by diving into the mirky waters. There is attachment to living flesh. Severing tactile reality, her mind struggles with time. Surrender to the heart, the way is deep. She falls to her knees and places him in the front yard to await his burial.
Maze and Wanda were bonded. He'd sit on her chest as she lay in bed. Reaching out to him as they breathed the same air, he infused her heart as his presence grew. The cosmic Love dismembered the body. No form, just dark, eternal space. Effortless communication with this familiar soul washed over her, relieving all fear and worry. He continued to speak through her heart. Wanda trusted his energetic powers to manifest answers to her questions. Cloaked in waves of euphoria, she asked him to help her find her way as a single parent. She saddled his courageous spirit. Maze removed all doubt.
No longer there when Wanda returns from a grueling day. She cannot comprehend this vacancy. All coming and going on the planet works this way. Those left behind must find the way to love again.
