DIFFERENT PATHS--free Wiccan Ebook/short story
By
Theresa Chaze

(To download the free ebook Sisters Mothers Daughters Go to www.theresachaze.com)

She licked her lips and continued around the room in a counter clockwise direction; she held the smudge stick in front of her. The smoke gently flowed into the already smoky room. She didn’t know how to ask. Last time she convinced them against their better judgment and the situation went from bad to worse. Did she have the right to ask them to fix a problem she had intensified?
“Angie, it’s getting thick.”
“I’m smudging.”
“It’s a full moon meditation, not an exorcism!” Jackie waved her hand in front of her face, in an attempt to clear the air.
Angie stopped at the window and opened it. The smoke was immediately drawn out. “Better?”
“It’ll help.” Alyssa placed a low table in the center of the room. Standing, she tossed her hair back over head, allowing the blonde curls to fall naturally back down to her waist. She spread a white silk cloth on top and put a large, white candle in the center. “The food’s ready.” Shanna walked out of the kitchen. Untying her shoulder length hair, she ran her fingers through the chestnut colored strands, half scratching, half massaging her scalp. “Need help?”
“Yes.” Jackie laughed and pointed to the smudge stick. “Take that away from her.”
“I get the hint.” Angie reluctantly buried the burning end in the soil of the fig tree and opened another window. She leaned against the frame and looked out.
The lawn was brightly lit by the moon. The forest beyond beckoned as the moonbeams danced off the breeze blown leaves, hinting at the possibility of joining the little people of old in their nightly dance. The last of the lilacs were fading along with the rest of the spring flowers, yet their scent still flavored the air with a sweetness comparable to the first bloom.
Angie inhaled; she smelled the coming of a rain shower. She guessed it was still a couple of hours away. They’d have time to meditate, do ritual and eat afterwards before the rain turned Shanna’s driveway to mud.
Angie had always admired them. They were older and had shared things that were no longer possible. Shanna Marie Semion, athlete, free-lance writer, tarot reader. She owned--Angie immediately corrected herself--borrowed from Mother Earth this ten acres for herself and her shepherd, Chester. Angie marveled how she seemed to be able to hide the house when she didn’t want company. Alyssa Lee--a blonde haired, blue eyed, long legged beauty, who had blazoned her own trail through motherhood, marriage, co-dependency and divorce without straying far from her spirituality. Angie had met her through her daughter, Danielle, but the friendship with the mother lasted longer than with the daughter. Danielle's path twisted in a direction Angie hadn’t found appealing. They were not enemies, nor could they still be considered friends; they were simply polite when they happened to meet. Jacqueline McCloud known to most simply as Jackie introduced her to the miracles of massage therapy and to love without the barter system. She is the only person Angie had ever met who was completely at peace with herself. By most standards, she was not beautiful until you looked into her deep brown eyes; there you found a mixture of impish elf and the wisdom of an Archangel. She would love to bear a child, preferably a daughter, but if it never happened, she’s still considered herself completely blessed and fulfilled.
Why they found her interesting, Angie didn’t understand. She was a college educated woman, who had dreams of writing movies, but the only job she could land was manufacturing clocks. She had written two screenplays. She had found an agent. Everything was done right. Yet nothing happened. So she made phone calls on her own, verbally knocking on doors across country, but none of the beautiful people would open the door or come out to play with her.
“Angie?”
Startled, Angie turned, bumping her head and breaking the train of thought. Alyssa stood next to her. Jackie and Shanna knelt by the table; both were looking at her.
“What’s the matter? You were a million miles away.” Jackie sat back on her heels.
Angie licked her lips and lowered her eyes, trying to decide if she should ask for their help or try to handle the problem on her own. “I was thinking.”
“So we noticed.” Alyssa rubbed her shoulder.
“Give her some space. She might not want to share.”
Alyssa looked over her shoulder at Shanna. “I think she does.” Turning back, she lifted Angie’s chin so their eyes met. “But you don’t have to. You thoughts are always your own.”
“I don’t know how to ask.”
Jackie patted the floor beside her, her silver rings tapping against the oak floor. “You can start by sitting down.”
Angie tried to walk to the table.
Alyssa held on to her chin, forcing her to remain. “Angie, we are all equals here. Don’t try to make less of yourself or your accomplishments. Sometimes we have to learn other things before we can reach our true goals.” Her voice was a mere whisper, but it echoed within Angie’s soul. “You’ve come a long way in four years.”
Feeling the tears well up, Angie closed her eyes. Suddenly she felt the warmth of Alyssa's hug. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around the older woman and held on.
“Jeez, what’s with the water works?”
“Shanna” Alyssa warned. “It’s obviously important to her.”
Feeling foolish, Angie slowly pulled away and nodded. She tried to smile, but another tear rolled down her cheek.
Alyssa wiped it away and led her to the center of the room. Crossing her long legs, she sat down opposite to Shanna. Angie sat next to her, only farther from the table. She leaned against the sofa and brushed her nose with the back of her sleeve. Swallowing and blinking back the tears, Angie tried to find her center. She wanted to calmly explain. Pulling her knees close to her chest, she hugged them. She looked from one to another. “We-I made a mistake.”
“Won’t be the first. Won’t be the last.” Jackie quipped back. “Some of my best lessons came out of them.”
“Mine too.” Shanna chimed in.
“Everyone makes them.” Alyssa shifted her position. “What did you do or not do?”
“My co-worker, Ronda. I asked you to help her. Remember?”
Shanna uncrossed her legs, accidentally kicking the leg of the table. The candle wobbled and she steadied it. “She was treating everyone poorly.”
“You thought it was because she had such bad luck.” Jackie leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table and cupping her chin in her open palm. “So we did a luck and prosperity spell for her. Didn’t it work?”
“It worked. Too well. She won a new car. Two small lotteries. She was promoted to supervisor--”
Cocking her head to one side, a furrow formed between Alyssa's eyes. “What’s the problem? We helped her.”
“But hurt everyone else, including myself.” Angie tightened her hold on her legs to the point of discomfort, but she used it as a focus point to hold back the tears. “The more she was blessed, the meaner she got. Because of her three people were fired. Two suspended. Production has dropped.”
Jackie sat straight up. “In a month?”
“A month real time. Forever to us at the plant. Everyone’s angry. Frustrated.”
“Did you send something big, bad and ugly after her?”
Alyssa's bluntness didn’t surprise Angie. She knew after some of the things Danielle and she had done, the question had to be asked. She could see it in all their eyes. There was a time her anger would have brought forth her own definition of justice. Only it wouldn’t have been limited to Ronda, but included everything and everyone she cared about. It was a path she no longer found appealing. “I thought it. Of how easy it would be to take it all away. Her job. Her home. Her family. Make her afraid to go to sleep at night. I thought it.” But quickly added. “I banished the thought into nothingness.”
Slowly Shanna exhaled in a low whistle, as if she had been holding her breath.
“So what do you want to happen?” Alyssa continued.
“Justice.”
“What kind of justice?”
“I don’t know Alyssa. I don’t have the proper perspective. I’m too close. This could be a grand karmic lesson. Or it could just be a backlash from what we did.” Angie shook her head. “I’ve made so many angry mistakes. I wanted to help. But it looks like I did more harm than good. My intentions were pure. Which is why I intervened.”
“Could that be the lesson?” There was an angry bite to Shanna’s question.
Frustrated, Angie looked across the table. “If it’s my lesson, why hurt everyone else?”
“Maybe that is part of the karma?” The bite of her tone became more of a slap. “To not interfere with another’s lesson.”
“Somebody had to do something!” Angie glared back. “I was trying to help!”
“Calm down both of you.” Alyssa snapped, shooting warning looks at both of them. “Shanna, I know you were against us interfering. But what’s done is done. Agreed?”
Silently Shanna looked out the window.
“Agreed?” She repeated.
Slowly Shanna’s head turned to meet her gaze. After a moment, she nodded.
Alyssa turned back to Angie. “You’re right. It was your mistake. It’s your lesson. How are you going to fix it?”
“I don’t know.”
“We could--”
“No, Jackie. She has to do it herself.” Alyssa cut her off. “In the past, she responded with psychic violence and violation. She knows better now. It’s time she walks the walk, not just talks the talk.”
“True.” Jackie leaned back away from the table, as if she was removing herself from the situation.
“Shanna?”
Shanna shifted her sitting position so her legs crossed in front of her while leaning back on her arms. “I will not help or hinder.”
“Thank you.” Again Alyssa turned to Angie. “Talk it out.”
“I don’t know how.”
“What did we do last time?”
“Jackie! No help from the peanut gallery!”
“Back off Ally! She’s new at this.”
“No she isn’t!” Alyssa counter. “This is the place she always stumbles. This time she has to learn.” She returned her attention to Angie. “You can do it. Center yourself and think.”
Angie licked her lips and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize. Nothing came. It remained dark and frightening. A voice from the past whispered, reminding her how good revenge felt--how easy it was. “No!” She screamed internally. The voice laughed, telling her she could never change. She forced herself to breathe through the rising panic. She focused on the beating of her own heart.
The wind blew through the open window. She felt the sudden coolness raise goose bumps on her arms. The storm was closer than she thought. She could imagine the lightning cutting through the night sky, illuminating the trees and the yard. Suddenly she was standing on the front porch, watching the wind whip through the trees. The dark clouds covered the brightness of the moon. She was alone, yet not. Two dark silhouettes stood a few yard of the porch. One was full off hate and anger; the other radiated love. Lightning flashed. She saw their faces. She stepped off the porch and walked toward them. Their faces kept changing. The angry one’s alternated between Ronda, Danielle and herself. The other wore the faces of Jackie, Alyssa and herself as a child. Angie froze. They frightened her. The loving woman beckoned her. She wanted to run to her, but she couldn’t--not yet. First she had to make peace with the other. She hesitated, and then slowly on unsteady feet she crossed the distance between them.
Laughing the woman slapped her. “You can’t get rid of me.”
“I don’t want to get rid of you.”
The woman tried to strike her again. Angie caught her wrist and pulled her close. “No matter what you have done, I accept you.”
She melted into Angie, filling her with an onslaught of violent images and an incredible loneliness. The memories from other lives flooded over her. Betrayals, both hers and others. Being left behind. The blaming. The shame. All building into a wave of rage propelled by fear. She breathed, allowing the emotions to fill and pass over her. She accepted them as her own. She felt tired and off center. The other woman reached out and touched her shoulder. Slowly she met her gaze. It was like hot chocolate and a favorite blankie on a cold winter night. The woman embraced her and they fused into one. Like the warmth of the sun after a turbulent storm, the love she shared dried the tears and melted away the shadows, which gave the fear its strength. All the empty spots were filled. The wisdom of the moment brought clarity and understanding to the question--Why?
Angie opened her eyes. She was alone at the table. Shanna and Jackie stood at the open front door, quietly talking and watching the approaching storm. Alyssa stood at the window, looking through the screen. In the distance, thunder rumbled.
Angie stood and stretched. She felt stiff, but strangely at peace with herself. It was a feeling she had been missing for her whole life. Taking a step closer, she watched Alyssa's gaze shift to meet her reflection’s eyes.
“You’re back.” Alyssa didn’t turn to face Angie, but continued to make eye contact with her reflection. “I didn’t mean to be so hard on you.”
“Danielle won’t let you help her.”
“The two of you were so very much alike. Bright. Beautiful.”
“Angry. Frustrated. Lonely.”
“She is my daughter and there is nothing I can do to make her happy.”
“It’s her path. Only she can change it.”
Slowly Alyssa pivoted on her toes. The moonlight gave her a halo. “What have you learned?”
“Did you see?”
Alyssa shook her head. “It was private.”
Angie licked her lips. “I saw...” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know how to explain. “I learned--I understand--”
Jackie stepped into the room with Shanna closely behind. Alyssa held up her hand; they stopped.
Angie looked briefly at Jackie; she smiled and nodded, encouraging her to continue. Returning her attention to Alyssa, she took a deep breath and just let the words tumble out. “There were two women. One angry. She didn’t like me. Her face changed from Ronda to Danielle to mine. She slapped me, but I wouldn’t back away. I embraced her and she became part of me. I saw the before. Why she was so angry? Why she wanted to hurt others? They had hurt her--betrayed her trust. Time after time the ones she loved turned on her. It was the rage and the need for revenge, which kept her strong. It was all she had left.”
Alyssa quickly turned away and looked out the window.
“I felt alone and unlovable. The other woman reached out to me. She had your face, Alyssa, and Jackie’s and my own as a child. She embraced me and all the love came back. All the times it was offered, but I couldn’t accept. It was all there waiting for me to be open to it.”
“So what did you learn?” Jackie asked from across the room.
Confused, Angie again closed her eyes and concentrated on the rapidly fading images. The rage and the fear. The unconditional love. The melding of the two. She felt dizzy. She opened her eyes. There was pressure in the middle of her forehead. She focused on it. Before her, images kept appearing and combining in different combinations. Frustrated, she shook her head. They disappeared. All was dark and quiet. Inhaling and exhaling, she found her center and the words flowed out. “Everyone we meet is a lesson. A reflection of part of ourselves that we must grow though.” She breathed deeply and opened her eyes. The world seemed to move in slow motion.
Outside, in the distance lightning flashed. In that instant, Angie knew they’d be spending the night. She licked her lips; they were salty. “The lesson,” her voice sound scratchy to her own ears, “is that Ronda, Danielle, even myself represent the dark things I’ve done--my need to dominate others to prevent them from hurting me. By accepting them, I accepted the responsibility. Jackie, Alyssa and my younger self are unconditional love and total forgiveness. The ability to love without expectation or strings.”
Shanna walked around Jackie and stood directly in front of Angie. “Now what do you want to happen at work?”
Without flinching, Angie looked directly into her hazel eyes. “Justice. Pure and simple. I don’t have to name the specifics or the players. I don’t have to see it. I don’t have to be involved. I don’t have know any of the details beyond what I owe for interfering.”
“So mote it be!” Jackie and Shanna spoke at once. They quickly looked at each other and laughter over took them, breaking the moment.
“So much for the full moon ritual.” Jackie shrugged and curled up in a chair. “We should eat and split while we can.”
“It’s not to late.” Angie countered. “Everyone had something they wanted work on.”
Shanna shook her head. “Half the group is burnt out.”
“I’m sorry.” Angie yawned. She longed to curl up on the sofa or just go home to bed. But she needed to talk to Alyssa, preferably alone. She looked over her shoulder at Alyssa then back at Shanna.
Shanna nodded and quickly stood. “Jackie, help me get the food ready.”
“You said it was done.”
Crossing the room, she propelled Jackie toward the kitchen. “I gotta show you something.”
Angie didn’t know if she should speak; Alyssa was obviously on her own journey. But it couldn’t wait. She needed to say it; her inner voice told her Alyssa needed to hear it. She walk up beside her until her image in the glass stood next to Alyssa's.
“What you said was beautiful.”
“I was inspired.” Angie bit her lip. “Alyssa, Danielle knows you love her. She told me many times how it was the one thing she could depend on.” She hesitated, not knowing how to say it. “Be careful how you pray for her. Send her your love and support--”
“But don’t try to choose her path.” Alyssa straightened and slowly pivoted. “That’s the hard part. I see her hurting herself and I want to protect her.”
“You can’t. Not really.”
“Only she can find the path out of the darkness.”
“You speak from experience.”
Angie nodded. “She’ll find her own way when she is ready. As I did.”
Alyssa sadly smiled. “That’s the problem.”
“No.” Angie winked at her. “Remember you told me endlessly...we don’t have problems, we have challenges.”
“Challenges are positive growth spurts.” Alyssa nodded and hugged her.
From the kitchen, Jackie shouted. “They’re hugging. Can we come out now?”
With a loud clap of thunder, the clouds released their cargo. Rain slapped against the screens. Moving in unison, Alyssa and Angie moved to close the windows. Reaching for the latch, Alyssa stopped and looked at Angie. She couldn’t read what the older woman was thinking, but she got the impression she wasn’t the only one who had been healed.