After last night’s gig, Tammy drove me back to the apartment. I went upstairs alone, yet not alone. One or more of Opus Dei were there in spirit. I knew that. I don’t know how.
I let it all out in my improvisation, and then we lit the place up. I hope somebody recorded it.
Today was quiet. No gig. Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, so we probably wouldn’t get an audience anyway. The gallery was closed, so I spent the afternoon down there playing, playing, playing. I was afraid to do anything else.
Maria left me alone, instead spending the day painting in her studio. Akira stopped in briefly in the morning to say goodbye. She’s headed back to Chi-town to tell her mother her news, now that she has calmed down.
That’s something I’m still working on.
Maria made pizza for dinner – just what the doctor ordered. She knows something is wrong, but I dare not tell her what, certainly not the whole thing. My instinct tells me she is not a member – no tattoos that I’m aware of, but I haven’t seen her with her cloths off. She has been my companion off and on through the ages, and I don’t think she would have countenanced a “Mary’s Army”. I feel that I have come to know her that well.
I am not crazy.
But I am standing on Maria’s rooftop patio watching a thunderstorm blow in during the night. I’m standing back from the railing. Truthy still hasn’t cured my acrophobia. The lights of the city are still bright, seemingly unaware of what is coming …
… what is here.
I am that storm. It will blow fiercely in the warm night air, and bring a cold crisp Easter morning.
They tortured my son to death, calling him a criminal, hanging him without charges. He was half dead even before they pounded the nails through his hands. I couldn’t leave, even after his last breath. His last words were unintelligible to me. Some said he pleaded to his father, others say he asked my forgiveness. What does a mother need to forgive her only child for?
For dying before her? He could not help that. He couldn’t hide that he was different from them, different, too, from me, yet I am even more different in ways that I don’t even understand.
Magda sits with me now, waiting she knows not what for. I do, but only because it has been revealed to me by my inner voice. It will be misunderstood, yet it will change the world. The love of my life will return to me in the morning for a short time until he moves on.
The men are asleep in this secluded hideaway, separate from us as is appropriate. They are here to protect me, yet it is I who protect them. I keep the watch while Magda sobs. She will miss him most. In time she will be unable to picture his sweet face. Only yesterday’s horror will remain. I will never forget. I can never forget.
We keep Passover, for whatever good it does us. I must play the game, just as you do.
I’m not as good at playing the game as you are, but I can get away with a lot more in my time.
I see you have other troubles, in what little your presence reveals to me.
I was just observing. I didn’t mean to intrude, especially today. I am in danger, but I don’t know from whom. Someone tried to … maim me … today. It is an existential threat to us. That is all I know.
Your city is beautiful. So much light. A storm is brewing though. You should take cover.
You can see it?
When you are here, I can see fleeting glimpses of your world, if I choose to allow myself. It can be so confusing and different. Today, you need my help, although I don’t know how much I can give from 2000 years in your past. Trust your instinct. Trust yourself. Surrender to the Truth. In the Truth you have nothing to fear.
But you lied once.
I lied to reveal a greater Truth. Forgive me, Magda stirs. I must console her in her time of grief.
Magda’s cheeks are soaked with tears. Surely, she should be consoling Mary.
But she lacks our strength. We must be strong when it counts. It counts as much for you today as it does for me. I will meet my son again in the morning. Magda doesn’t share that certainty.
Surrender to the Truth.
Large drops of rain begin to fall. Mary urged me to take cover, but this feels good to me, at least until the wind and hail comes.
And it will.