The Transformation Of Amy Lunaro: Chapter Twenty Five. {fiction}
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Amy and Danny had lunch down island, overlooking the harbor.
It was a cold March day, bright but frigid, and they sat bundled in sweaters by the window in a polished wooden booth. Amy sipped her clam chowder and gnawed on french fries, while Danny tucked into beer and a burger.
“So you’re headed into the farm life, huh?” Danny said, wiping ketchup from the corner of her supermodel bee-stung lips.
Amy nodded, relishing the fries she stuffed in her mouth, a decadent treat after months of Leanne’s health food.
“You ever had your hands in the earth?”
Amy blushed a little defensively. “No,” she said.
“Ever worked with farm animals?”
“Horses. When I was young. Anyway, they train us there.”
“That’s good,” Danny nodded, “they pay you?”
“A tiny bit, but there’s room and board. Which is great, because I’m down to my last dollar.”
“You’ll be okay,” Danny said, “I have a feeling you’re going to be just fine. Anyway, it sounds amazing. Maybe I’ll come visit. I haven’t left the island in way too long.” She slumped back in her booth and took Amy in. “You’re glowing. You look… healthy. And I dare say, happy.”
“Thank you. I had my first beach run since the accident yesterday. It was more like an impassioned power walk, but it felt amazing.”
“That’s awesome, Amy.”
“I think the moon circle expedited my healing. That was some powerful energy.”
“The more women who focus on the same intention, the more powerful it is,” Danny smiled, “that’s why we circle. And,” she winked, “why people are so terrified of women circling. I’m so proud of you. You’ve come a million miles, like you walked them all in that bed. Ha. I love a good transformation. Nothing like it to make you believe in miracles.
Wow, we really turned a city rat into a country mouse, huh?”
Amy breathed deep. “Yes. Thank God,” she said, “I think I’ve always wanted a more literally grounded life. This winter I was trying to decide what I was going to do, so I looked at what I get jealous of people for. Because I realized jealousy’s just inspiration hiding in shadow.”
“And I think I get jealous of people who use their hands for a living. And I get jealous of people actively making a difference in the world. And I get jealous of people living happily in community with each other. I didn’t want to become one of those died-alone-eaten-by-rats in-her-New York City-apartment-people.”
She dumped another packet of oyster crackers into her chowder mug. The chowder was really just a vehicle for the salty, air-puffed crackers.
“You know, the Super finds her and no one misses her. Or I’m in the New York Post for one day before I fade away and my story lines a litter box. ‘Depressed Divorcee Dies Under a Bridge in Brooklyn’. No, thank you.”
Danny stared at her, big-eyed, and picked up her beer and pretended to chug the whole thing. “That’s some dark shit right there,” she said.
Amy laughed, “Exactly.”
Danny plunked the pint back on the table. “Well, I get jealous of people who can sit down for a living,” she said, “making a living with your body is exhausting.”
“Well, maybe I’ll find a balance. Maybe I’ll get back to more writing, maybe I’ll even write about my time there.”
“That’s a good idea.” Danny sipped the foam off of her pint. The printouts of journals flashed back into Amy’s head. They had been right there, right on her lap, right on the couch.
“I still think it’s weird,” she said, “about the journals. None of you girls took those pages by mistake?”
“No,” Danny shook her head, looking out at the water, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Amy said, “just spooky. I didn’t know I was ‘that’ out of it.”
Danny turned back around and set her big brown doe eyes on Amy.
“Hey, so don’t go away forever. We want you back.”
“I can’t promise anything,” Amy said, “I don’t know what will happen in Maine.”
Danny smiled. “Well, I’m not worried. This island has a way of calling the people she wants back. If she loves you, you can’t ever really leave her. She might kick you off for a time to get your shit together, but she’ll call you back. And when she does you can’t ignore it. It’s like this soul siren call. Ignoring it would be like ignoring yourself.”
“We’ll see about that,” Amy said.
“Go ahead and try to leave,” Danny laughed, “I love to watch people try.”
“I am,” Amy said, “I’m even all packed up. It feels so good to move again, I did it in one morning.”
“Okay,” Danny said, “but the thing about here is that once you leave you realize there’s no better place to live. That this place has everything you could ever want, and there’s no place else like it. You ever heard of Avalon?”
“The mystical island of the Goddess?”
“Yeah. Well, think about it. This is about as close to Avalon as you can get in this dimension. Green cliffs that crash into blue sea. A misty island you have to ferry to, filled with witches. Certain people get spiritually herded here. Especially women coming to heal. You’ll see. You’ll miss the fuck out of it. She’ll call you back like a lover.”
Just then the door swung open, and with it rushed in a cold gush of crisp March air.
“Brr,” Danny said, looking back over her shoulder. Then she said, “Ugh.”
Jack Fletcher had walked in in his big red flannel jacket, and he wasn’t alone. He was holding a thin shiny blond girl’s hand whom Amy recognized from that awkward morning at Yoga. He nodded at Danny, but his eyes moved right over Amy, like she wasn’t even there.
Danny rolled her eyes. “Pathetic,” she said, “a 33-year-old man playing the ignoring game. Anyway… do you want to go?”
“No,” Amy shook her head, “I really don’t. I really don’t want to run anymore.”
“That’s the beautiful thing about an island,” said Danny, “you can’t run from anything.”
Amy had thought she would hurt when she saw him again, but she didn’t. She shrugged. “He really doesn’t bother me,” she said, “really. I’ve decided to be celibate, anyway. I’m done with men.”
Danny smiled.
“No, you’re not.”
“Why is it so hard to believe? I am. I’m no longer interested in what hurts me. They’ve never done me any good. “
“That’s ‘cuz you haven’t met the right one yet. They are all wrong until the right one.”
“Speaking of,” Amy said, “Did you and Jack ever…?”
“Yes, of course. He was the last wrong one before the right one. I had to give up completely before Ray showed up at my door.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have…”
“Don’t be. It’s a small island. Overlap is inevitable and no one owns anyone.”
“Still,” Amy said.
“If it had bothered me, I would have said something. I’m a grown woman who can express herself. Don’t worry, Amy. I was just worried about you. I guess, well, I guess for good reason.”
“Exactly,” Amy agreed, “consider me in Man Rehab.”
“They should have those,” Danny nodded, “but just don’t be like one of those people who gets bucked from a horse, and never gets back on. Those people drive me nuts. So fear-based. They walk around lugging their story of the one horse that bucked them.
Then they never ride again and they miss out, the rest of their lives, because one jackass kicked them off the ride of a lifetime. Think of how much suffering there is in this world. I think God gave us love to make up for it.”
Amy looked over at the back of Jack’s head. He had great, thick, shiny black hair. She remembered what it was like to run her fingers through it. And she remembered his hands in her hair, and her trying to relax, but holding on too tightly to the hope that he would like her, that she was pretty and skinny and cool enough for him, to let go.
She shook her head and turned back to Danny. “I’m done with my story,” she said.
“Good,” Danny said.
“You know, you sure sound a lot like Leanne,” Amy told her, “you share similar wisdom. Women’s wisdom. I’m sorry she was so weird about the moon circle… but you really would like her.”
“I’ve known Leanne forever, of her, anyway, and I have a lot of respect for her. But she’s from that old line of traditional witches who thinks us younger ones are in it for the fad. Or, just because it’s cool right now. But that’s not why we do it at all, it’s genuinely in honor.”
“I know,” said Amy, “I can tell.”
“But she doesn’t like how out of the broom closet we are about it. The old witches are big on the sacredness and secrecy, but I’m not so into secrets. Sacredness, yes. Secrets, no. Something about keeping it so secret makes me feel like there’s shame around it. And I’ve got no shame for being an earth-loving goddess-worshiper.”
“Me either,” Amy smiled.
“I think she thinks we don’t take it seriously enough. But the Goddess is about joy and pleasure, too. Some witches forget to have fun.”
“I can see that,” Amy said, “but I owe her a lot.” She looked down at her legs. “Everything, really.”
“Well, she really took a liking to you. I hadn’t seen Leanne with anyone for years. She kept to herself. After her daughter died, she just walled up. Went hermit. I get it. I think it’s easy to close up and stay closed after pain like that. I guess it seems safer to numb out and turn in like that, but I actually think it’s a whole lot more dangerous.”
“She’s doing her best,” Amy said, protectively.
“I’m sure she is. Anyway, we both love you,” Danny said. “You’re lovable. Know that.”
“The thing is, I actually believe that now.”
“Good. But don’t forget about us, when you’re back out in the world.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. You were kind to me when you didn’t have to be.”
“That’s not totally true,” Danny shrugged, “I mean, at first I thought I got to go home and brag to Ray that Jimmy Jackson’s ex wife had washed up on our shores.”
“Okay, yeah, but after that. You didn’t get anything out of being kind to me, but you still were.”
“That’s not true either,” Danny said, looking her in the eyes. “I got you.”
Amy was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “True. And I got you. Look what a little random kindness to a stranger can do.”
“Exactly. So you really leaving tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow morning, 8 o’clock boat.”
“Did you say goodbye to Leanne already?”
“She said she doesn’t do goodbyes.”
“Sounds like her.”
The ferry horn bleated over the harbor, and they turned to watch the big white ship leave the dock and slice a smooth path through the cool blue water.
Then Danny reached across the table and gave Amy’s arm a squeeze.
“Hey,” she smiled, “looks like we got you sailing again.”
Amy smiled back. She grabbed her hands and returned the squeeze. “We did,” she said, “thank you, Danny.”
This is an ongoing series from a forthcoming fiction novel by Sarah Durham Wilson of DOITGIRL.
Tune in weekly for the next chapter in ‘The Transformation of Amy Lunaro’.
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