Of Sea Lavender

The Girl by the Sea

There was a young girl, no more than ten, who lived in a small tourist town with her mother by the sea. Her mother was beautiful, magnetic, with volumes of curls cascading down her back. Her laughter was like a waterfall coming down to earth, splashing against the stones, smoothing out the edges of every jagged situation the pair, duo, may have found themselves in. She smelled of summer rain, fresh cut flowers, and the warmth of the early morning sun on a cool spring day. She was life - vibrant, frivolous, without care or worry. Things came easily to her. She had a small stand on the pier where she would tell fortunes, heal hearts, tender hope in the spirts of passerby’s, tourists and townspeople alike. She borrowed money, men loved her, she got by.

Her daughter was shy, a little awkward, always in the shadow of her mother’s light. Until one day an accident happened and her mother was taken from her. The whole town went dark. The tourists stopped coming. Every day was cloudy, cold, windy and gray. It was like the light, the sun had left with her.

What little money she could make reading cards for tourists quickly dried up when they stopped coming. The men that loaned her mother money were becoming violent, what was owed is due. It fell on her… her mother’s debts had to be paid.

Lila saw her mother fall from this pedestal of light, she felt angry, frustrated, helpless… how was she supposed to survive? Her mother’s follies had left her desperately in debt, her own life now threatened.

She walked up the narrow, wooden staircase to her small studio apartment. The lock had been broken. Fear surged through her, were the men still here! She stopped to listen but no sound was heard. She slowly opened the door and peered inside. The kitchen was spilled out on the floor. What little belongings she had were strewn about carelessly, broken… disregarded, worthless. Save a teapot. At least she had that. She filled it with water and put it on the stove to boil. She was hungry, her stomach twisted. There was no food. Save a few scraps of bread she’d lifted from the pier on her way home. Some other person’s garbage, her sustenance.

The closet. They hadn’t seen the small hidden door in back. Thank God. She moved to open it. Her mother’s hand-embroidered tapestry was still there. And her trunk. The broom. Just holding her mother’s clothe brought strength into her bones.

A knock. The landlord shouts. The young girl quickly hid these belongings and went to answer. Rent was due, past due. The lady felt sorry for her, she’d known her mother. But there was nothing else she could do for her here. Lila had to go. She’d give her another couple days if she would channel the spirit of her friend, a man who’d lost his wife.

Okay.

Lila went down the stairs into the apartment below.

She sat around a circular table and began to explore the energy of the room. The spirit of his wife.

And she told him what she heard.

Go. It is time to go. - this she didn’t say aloud. The spirit was there for her. You are not safe here… go Lila, it is time to go.

She didn’t listen. How could she. This was the only place she’d ever known. Her mother… her mother, this is where she knew her, where they spent those years of light and warmth and happiness together. How could she leave.

The next morning she showed up at her booth on the pier. A rare tourist stopped by. They hadn’t planned to come here, just needed gas, a repair. This place was desolate they said, sad.

Lila didn’t really like them.

Whatever it may look like to you, this is my home. My mother was once here. Were the words inside.

She agreed to read their cards. Take only what you need. She asked for a very small, nominal charge. Enough to buy a one way ticket out of here. Not that she would. But it was enough that she could, if she needed to.

She went to find lunch. When she came back her window was smashed, the table turned over, her cards scattered all over the floor. What little ability she had to earn money for herself was now destroyed.

Take only what you need.

She collected her cards, her red bone dice into a pouch and placed them on the inside hem of her skirt.

She started walking home.

There was nothing here for her now.

She saw the men approaching before they saw her. They were looking for her. She crouched down in the tall blue stem grass and prayed not to be seen. The grass shielded her, hid her. They walked by without pause, not noticing her right there. So close she smelled their sweat.

She felt in her body, they meant to do her harm. She would not live much longer now if she stayed. But my mother…

She is not here anymore.

It was suddenly so clear. Lila saw what must be done. She felt courage and clarity she didn’t know she possessed. A fog seemingly lifted in that moment, the sun’s rays pierced briefly through the gray.

She moved fast.

The trunk. The broom. Her mother’s embroidered tapestry, the kettle. The walk along the train tracks. Fast. Fast. Go! She could feel the men coming, quick. Make haste.

She got out. She looked behind, they were already there, going to her apartment, walking up those rickety stairs. It wouldn’t be long now till they realized she was gone. That she left. It would take them awhile to believe she was capable of it. The weak, shy, pathetic girl they saw her as… the mere shadow of what her mother once was.

My tracks! Will they follow them, will they find me!

A complete sense of calm and safety, peace, swept over her. A warm embrace of security and love. Safety and protection. Almost like she’d never known but then something about it was familiar. It was true.

My tracks are hidden, the men are surrounded in a haze of confusion, a dense fog. They will forget about you, you’re invisible to them, there are no tracks to be found. What story they need to let you go has already occurred to them. You are free, sweet Lila. You are free. Now go. Catch that train. It is time.

Your mother is always with you. She is inside you, you carry her in your very cells. She is not in that place, that town. The place where the light has gone out.

Move. Move on. Go.

Find the light.

It is waiting for you… expecting you.

Follow it home.

You will find yourself, your mother, there.

And she was gone.

-

My eyes open.

A dream…

Or was it real.

Time passes.

On a call, work, the dream comes like a pull, a tide, a trance in the middle of the day.

I let it flow. What is needed?

And then I know.

I am the voice, I need to tell Lila it is time to go. I create the fog and hide her tracks. I embrace her in love and courage and safety. I see her on, out of that place. It is me. It is us. I am here. We are here. We are home.

And with the sun rising in the East I see we are headed to a valley, a mountain is waiting for us there. Calling