Tantric Coconuts (5 page)

Ted could feel her sadness. “Are you saying that she shot him because of a
dream
?”

“Yes, and her lousy Legal Aid lawyer insists that the law doesn’t believe in dreams.”

“He may not be so lousy.”

“He says she’ll never get out.”

“So here you are? Have spirit, will travel in your murderous aunt’s bookmobile. Is that what you mean when you say you took a wrong turn?”

“Perhaps.”

Ted tried to change the subject. “Tell me what you mean by a ‘spiritual consultant.’ I’ve never heard of that.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“You mean people see your sign and call you because they are confused about God or the purpose of life?”

Articulating her plan made its limitations glaring, but she did it anyway. “Many people are lost, so I help where I can. I have some friends doing similar things. I’m going to visit them while I’m on the road and get some tips. They’re going to help me get my business going.”

“How will they help you?” Ted asked.

“We’re all interested in spiritual matters. I’m trying to make a living at it as a sort of traveling spiritual consultant. Most of the others are more academic; they write books and give presentations at retreats. People come to them; maybe that works better. Time will tell. For now, I’m excited to give this a try.” Angel’s respect for her friends shone through when she said, “They’re very successful.”

Ted made a little bumping motion into Angel. “Are you sure spiritual work and driving go together?”

Angel bumped Ted back with even more force and poked his larynx with her index finger. “People that cross the yellow line often have accidents. Just a hint.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

Angel stopped, tilted her head upward, and looked again at the stars. “A remembrance trip, in your grandfather’s honor, is a good thing. This is something he wanted you to do?”

Angel’s own self-disclosure, however strange, had been so graceful and vulnerably given that Ted let his lawyerly guard down. “He said I was in a rut and that I needed to get away from work and open up to the world. Sometimes Argo and I tend to isolate ourselves a bit too much.”

“So you never leave the house, except as necessary?”

“Pretty much. That’s why getting in the Chieftain and going on the road was a challenge for me. There are certain spaces I feel comfortable in, and an RV isn’t one of them.”

“He must have loved you very much to give you such brave advice.”

“I think so. He was always talking to me about life’s bigger picture. I’m a detail kind of guy. I put my nose down and do the work that’s in front of me. I wasn’t very good at listening to him. I just thought he was saying old-man stuff. Strange, but even though he’s gone, I still hear him talking to me in my head, so now I’m trying to listen to him better.”

Angel could feel Ted opening up and tried to get the door to swing a bit wider. “When he speaks to you, what does he say?”

“Mostly little things like …” Ted shifted his voice an octave lower and tried to sound like a determined old man. “Ted, you better get that brief on file or the judge is going to kick your ass!”

“So this voice prods you to do the right thing?”

Ted thought a moment. “Yes, that’s right. We practiced law together for a few years, before he retired. Truth is I’m not half the lawyer he was, but I am good at managing the office, keeping things organized. We were a good team.”

Capitalizing on an opportunity to move their conversation to a place that might benefit Ted, Angel observed, “We have many voices in our heads. Sometimes voices can be tough on us and we have to be tough right back; otherwise they can haunt us for our entire lives. We have to say,
Scram! Get out of my head
.”

Ted wondered, “But surely there are some voices we should listen to and some we should ignore?”

“Not exactly. For instance, I hear my father, Larsen, a lot.
Get a real job. Wear normal clothes. Be more realistic
. Now, I love him and respect him, and his voice is a good voice, but the trick isn’t to sift through and find the right voice; the trick is to find our own true voice and ignore the rest.”

Ted paused and touched Angel’s arm. “Hey, stop a minute. Close your eyes.” He pressed his hands over her eyes.

Angel smiled and asked, “What?”

“Listen very carefully and tell me what your own true voice says to you.”

Angel allowed her mind to settle before answering, “Beware of careless white man driving west in RV.”

Ted closed and covered his own eyes. “I hear,
Imagining is great, but not while you’re driving
.”

Angel arched the small of her back. “Like your ancestors, do you plan on giving me beads and trinkets for the good health you have stolen from me?”

Ted heard his grandfather’s voice in his head again.
I like this Angel a lot better than the little blonde girl. She’s got spunk
. Ted leaned down and cautiously petted No Barks. “My grandfather would have approved of you, Angel Two Sparrow. He wasn’t that much into my wife. He couldn’t remember her name.”

“You’re married?” Angel asked, surprised.

“No, not now. She left me, traded up.”

“Are you sad about this?”

Ted puckered his lips and faked a little sob. “Broken up.” He quickly recovered. “We both woke up and realized that there was a stranger sleeping in our bed. She hated living in a small town in Kansas. She went home to Chicago for the weekend and never came back. She was good about it. Didn’t really ask for much, just a chance to start over. She was right.”

“What attracted you to her in the first place?” Angel asked.

“She would say it was one of three things.”

“All anatomical?”

He threw up his hands. “How did you know?”

“Most men are obsessed by the holy trinity.” Angel crossed her chest with her right hand and then let it trail down into her abdomen.

“There’s more to the story.”

“Let me guess: She was ready for children. You weren’t.”

“I was just starting my law practice; it was a timing thing.”

“It’s an old story.”

They walked a bit farther in silence. Angel stopped and asked, in a teasing tone, “So what’s it like for you being a
divorced, one-dimensional, agoraphobic, workaholic lawyer trying to find love in a small Kansas town?”

Ted refused to take the bait. “Fantastic. Couldn’t be better. Everyone wants my life.”

She slapped playfully at his arm. “You’re ahead of the pack, Ted Day. You have a good job and you don’t have to wait for your aunt to murder your uncle to get your own set of wheels. Could be worse.”

“I sent my résumé to the DOJ and the FBI. I’m sure they’ll be getting back to me soon. Until then, I fill a need. The only lawyer in town.”

“And I’m betting you manage to stay very busy at this job?”

“There you go sounding like my grandfather again. What’s wrong with being busy?”

“Good things usually get in the way of great things.”

“What do you think, Ms. Spiritual Consultant, I’m chasing the wrong rainbow?”

“Could be, but I’ll need a down payment before I’ll know for sure. Saving souls is hard work. I insist on being paid in advance.”

“How hard can it be?”

“You could be a project.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“I’ll tell you this much for free. Some people spend their life studying maps but never start the journey; other people blast off the starting line full speed ahead without first charting a course. Most of us could benefit from a better balance between planning and doing. You’re a doer, Ted Day, but I’m
not sure you have a clue where you are going. That’s where I’d start, giving you a better plan.”

Ted bent down and patted his dog on the head. “Maybe the animals have it easy. They don’t have to plan; they’re content to just live.”

When they neared Ted’s RV, Angel pointed to the dent, which was clearly visible, even in the moonlight. “You sure this wasn’t already there? Looks like an old wound to me.”

Spurred by moonlight and hormones, a generous impulse overtook Ted. “Look, Angel, forget about the accident. This trip is very likely the Chieftain’s last dance around the campfire. I’m not really an RV kind of guy. Who cares about a little dent? I’ll just get someone to reattach the water tank and I’ll be good to go. No harm, no foul.”

Relieved, Angel leaned toward Ted and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Good night, Ted Day, Champion of the Mop, Forgiver of Dents. Thanks for the walk.” She started to walk away, then turned back and smiled at him. “Strange, but I think my back is feeling better too. By dawn it might be healed.”

“I thought so.” When Angel was a little more than twenty yards away, Ted called out, “Good night, Angel Two Sparrow, Healer of Men’s Souls and Keeper of Wolves. Dream well!”

Before they went to sleep, Angel and No Barks spent twenty minutes meditating together. Angel took two deep breaths and muttered her mantra as she dug her hands deep into
the scruff of fur around No Barks’s silver-gray neck. She was pretty sure that No Barks was a natural at meditation. The dog seemed to enter the alpha state with little or no effort. The tension in her back was welling up; it started at the top of her spine and shot down her sciatic nerve. Maybe she actually had been hurt.

Angel had adopted the meditation techniques of a Burmese Buddhist monk she had met on one of her failed attempts at a junior year abroad, modified slightly by several insights she had gained from her kabbalah study group. Angel found that concentrating on various sensitive parts of her body while engaging in systematic breathing patterns reversed the polarity of her nervous system. Tonight, though, a rather disturbing illumination emanated from around her spinal column and cerebellum. In other words, she lit up. This aura—one of the objective and verifiable aspects of enlightenment—hung over her until just before midnight.

At midnight, Angel rang a small and very old Tibetan bell that had been given to her by a friend who had journeyed to Dharamsala in northern India. She waited for the tone to merge into the cosmos, subsumed but not lost, as a reminder of the unity of all things. When her mind was totally at peace, a tranquil sea without ripple or wave, relaxed, the answer came rather easily.

Angel was in need of a client. Ted was in need of a good spiritual consultant. Aunt Lilly did not like lawyers who did not believe in dreams. The pieces were all there, staring her in the face.

There were no accidents.

Instant oatmeal, cooked in the Chieftain’s microwave oven, was Ted’s choice for breakfast. It was a double portion served in one of the red plastic bowls that he’d bought at a sporting-goods store. When he finished washing up and putting away his dishes, Ted changed into his newly purchased hiking gear. It only made sense that he should get some use out of his purchases before he returned to Crossing Trails and got back to work. Already he missed the energy, neatness, and reliability of his law practice.

Releasing the latch, Ted opened the door and stepped outside with Argo. The sights and sounds of the wolf-infested outdoors and the soft, promising morning light beckoned him into the RV-park wilderness. After giving the dog a few minutes on his own, Ted joined Argo and they wandered toward Angel’s bookmobile. There was still some unresolved business that needed his attention.

When Bertha came into better view, he had to stop and assess what he saw. Angel was sitting not at but on top of her standard-issue green plastic picnic table. Ted walked twenty yards closer and waved at her, but with her eyes closed, sitting
in the lotus position, and deep in meditation, she seemed unaware of him.

Staring at Angel, Ted sensed a tranquility surrounding her. At first he wondered if there was some kind of glow emanating from the crown of her head, but then he realized it was just the light reflecting off the early-morning dew.

Not wanting to disturb her, Ted took a few steps closer and hesitated. He approached slowly, and when he was nearly into her designated space, Lot 16 West, Angel opened her eyes, smiled, and gave Ted another of her disturbingly benign smiles. She shifted from the lotus position into a more conventional pose, with her legs crossed and dangling over the edge of the picnic table. Holding up her hand, Angel waved and said, “Good morning, Ted. I was expecting you.”

As her long legs swung to and fro, Ted noticed her considerable muscle tone and chuckled nervously before asking, “Really? Am I that predictable?”

Angel leaned back, turned around, and pointed to the huge business card painted on the side of Bertha. “If you’re ready, we should start our work together. You made considerable progress last night. Don’t you think?”

Assuming Angel was misunderstanding the reason for his visit, Ted tried to get her focused. “Could you drive me to the local auto shop so someone can fix my water tank? And we can check your back out too—that is, if it still hurts.”

Angel stood up. “I have really good news for you, Ted.”

“Is your back better?”

“It became quite clear to me. Last night, after our walk.”

No matter how hard Ted tried, Angel simply was not going to join his side of the conversation. He finally gave up. “Okay, tell me your good news.”