The morning was sunny and mild in West Hollywood. The Spanish style house fronted the street much like any other in this quiet neighborhood. Inside the dark cool spaces opened into a screened veranda set before a garden of lemon and avocado trees. The lemons hung like huge Christmas ornaments on this December morning.
Alice Edgewalker, of the China blue eyes and the silken tresses as white as her night gown, stepped onto the courtyard where her Goddaughter Clara waited. A table was set with Clara’s finest silverware, wine glasses filled with fresh juice and bowls of steaming cereal topped with maple syrup.
“Well he came again in the dream state,” Alice sighed and smiled as she sat down. It seems he is still alive after all these years.”
“Maybe he’s trying to get in touch with you. You’re not easy to find or reach. He must be thinking of you…” Clara was all wide eyed and attentive, ready for another story from her psychic Godmother who traveled the world gathering wisdom or was it just fun. Clara was never quite sure whether it was one or the other or simply both.
Alice, it seemed to Clara, was more than just an ordinary Godmother, there was something magical about her. Alice’s visits provided relief and adventure to Clara, single mom and chief bread winner for her two children, 5 and 11 years old. Then there was an ineffable quality about Alice that made everything that happened around Alice special. Luckily and delightfully Clara could enjoy a few days with her as the kids were with Clara’s sister.
“So what will you do?” asked Clara. “He was the love of your life.”
“One of the loves of my life,” said Alice, “certainly one of the sexiest.” Alice who was sixty some years old looked suddenly younger and more sensuous as if just recalling Ricardo brought back those hot and sexy nights in Acapulco. “He was the most mysterious of my lovers. Did I tell you about…”
The years dissolved and it seemed to Clara that every word Alice spoke was an image come alive. Clara felt as if she was watching a movie as Alice unfolded her tale.
“It all began when my astrologer friend Neelam, an Indian from India with a big busy beard, mentioned this Mexican shaman. Shaman means healer and someone on a spiritual path, perhaps not an ordinary one.”
“It was November in Montreal. Neelam and I were having one of our weekly breakfasts as we had been doing for years and years. We discussed the esoteric, our lives and how to become conscious channels for the light.”
“Neelam, who I have probably told you about, was born a Hindu and had found his true spiritual affinity in Western metaphysics, otherwise known as Cabala. He studied it as it related to the ‘Tree of Life’, an ancient Hebraic symbol for spiritual development but with a Christian as well as Vedic slant. You might call his path ‘spiritual multi-culturism’. Neelam in fact wore a ‘Tree of Life’ pendant around his neck, with its ten sphiroth or aspects of enlightenment.
“We both wanted to enlighten. Of course, talking about enlightenment is not the same as being enlightened but somehow it helped.
“There we were sitting in Le Petit Ardoise, drinking café allongé, watered down expresso, strong enough to grow hair on your chest. We were seated by the window at a tiny rickety table looking out on the snow covered street. Winter had come early that year…” Alice drifted into her memories….
Neelam sat opposite Alice complaining “They want me to become the next psychic phenomena in a supposedly bargain priced astrology club. A save the children, buy this scam. It turns me off! It’s not my way,” whined Neelam in a distressed voice. “And they are recruiting other psychics. We met last Thursday. I tried to explain why I thought the project might not work. Only the Mexican shaman seemed to understand. You really should meet him. He’s into crystals.”
“Crystals are a little passé these days,” Alice smiled smugly which she could afford to do having been the crystal queen of Montreal when crystals were the fad.
Neelam passed Alice the prospectus on the project which included a four color photo of Neelam wearing a turban and rose colored glasses. The brochure was titled ‘Club des Miracles’ or Miracle Club. “Get your heart’s desire, sign here…” Neelam gestured to the brochure. “You can see how disturbing this is for me. We both know it doesn’t work that way.”
“It seems to me it does,” responded Alice, nibbling at her croissant. “Perhaps not quite the way people might want it to…still desire is the seed of manifestation. All desires manifest truly, just not quite the way we expect. And of course, God seems to have a unique sense of timing. It would seem ‘He’, ‘She’ or ‘It’ aka ‘shit’ likes to laugh at us a lot.”
“Yes!” Neelam affirmed, “We desire love and the Universe gives us addiction and co-dependence.”
“And,” continued Alice, “We have the opportunity to work through our emotional baggage. In the process we get closer to ‘God’ when we realize the only perfect love is with Spirit.” Alice’s piercing blue eyes peered upwards, her lips smiled and Neelam laughed at her ironic sincerity.
“In the meantime, we develop loving compassion towards ourselves and others,” Neelam finished. He handed Alice a card with the Mexican shaman’s name and phone number. “He’s leaving town after the psychic expo next week.”
A few days later, Alice retrieved the card and telephoned Ricardo Estaban.
“Yes, “answered Ricardo, “how can I help you?”
“Oh,” said Alice to the voice that came over the phone, “I don’t think you can help me. I am a friend of Neelam and I’m into healing and crystals. Neelam thought it would be interesting for us to meet.” As they spoke the shaman’s voice shifted from a professional to a Latin timbre. It was as if Ricardo was reading Alice and Alice noticed. She knew this man was interested in bedding her before she hung up the phone or was it the other way around. “But you can’t always tell by the voice…wait and see,” thought Alice.
“And did you meet him before he left for Mexico?” asked Clara, sipping her tea. Alice smiled and opened her eyes “Yes, we met one evening after the psychic fair and went dancing all night. He took me back to his room afterwards. I thought we would cuddle but that word does not exist in the Mexican vernacular. We spent the next few nights together. It was very passionate. I was exhausted for a week. When Neelam got wind of the affair he fussed, telling me how eccentric Ricardo was but it was too late. I was smitten.” Alice’s face became luminous with the memory of love.
The Scene Shifted for Alice, she remembered …
The telephone rang. A sputter of static came into Alice’s ear. “Sweetheart,” said the Latin voice, “when are you coming to Acapulco? You can stay with me. I have a house here and you can do workshops.”
“Ricardo?…I’d love to come but Neelam says you are quite the womanizer aside from being a strange occultist. Are you sure it’s me you want?”
“He said what…Yes, I’m sure I want to be with you. Just fax me when your flight arrives. Alice, I want to dance with you. You are my angel, my healer. Come.” The phone went dead. “Errg” thought Alice furrowing her brow yet her body warmed to his voice and her heart opened. Alice called her travel agent.
Alice came out of her reverie.Her blue eyes connected with Clara’s brown ones, Alice smiled the smile of butterfly wings before continuing her story. “Luckily for me, Ricardo had left me a fax number before he left Montreal, the most reliable way to communicate with developing countries at that point in time.”
Clara went to make coffee and came back to find Alice sitting back in her chair, eyes closed. Tuning into Alice, Clara felt she could simply follow the journey telepathically, most of it. She saw a vision of Alice’s shaman.
Ricardo, tall and lanky whose dark features revealed his Indian roots stood at the arrival gate. Alice, hardly breathing beneath Acapulco’s humid heat, waved and hauled her suitcase towards him. Another shorter man stood beside Ricardo, looking like an Aztec sculpture come alive. Ricardo introduced Alice to his ‘pillar’ and spiritual brother, senor Hector.
“How was your trip?” asked Ricardo, not pausing for an answer. “Hector and I will get you to the house. You can rest then.” He gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek then carried her suitcase to the waiting car.
Alice took in the lushness and poverty of Mexico as they drove towards Acapulco. The blue of the bay was opulent, the dry hilly terrain strewn with litter. They drove past the glamorous and pricey Prince Hotel in the distance as they headed into the crowded downtown core then upwards into the hills above Acapulco. They stopped on a street of broken concrete and weeds beside a locked wrought iron gate painted white. The house clung to the hill. A winding driveway took them to the bottom of the three tiered house. There were overhanging flowers and flowering trees and shrubs, a bit of paradise pasted to the side of the mountain.
Ricardo introduced her to Maria, a thin waif of a woman who took care of the house and her aging father Manuel, who took care of the garden. They lived in a small wooden structure on the other side of the main house. Ricardo explained to her that she could call on Maria for whatever she needed. Maria and Manuel, however, spoke only Spanish.
“I have to go now. I’ll be back around ten this evening and we’ll have dinner. Rest well.” Ricardo kissed her on the forehead and left.
Alice stood there startled by his sudden departure. She felt almost abandoned but set about finding her bedroom and unpacking her clothing. Maria came to the door as she put away the last of her things.
“Senora,” she said gesturing with her hands as she told Alice in Spanish that there was food to eat in the dining room. The table was set with fresh flowers and a plate of vegetables, rice, beans and the ubiquitous salsa as well as a cold glass of plain soda with fresh lime. After lunch Alice showered and then slept. There was no air conditioning but the rooms of the house with its terracotta floors were cool. She woke hours later. It was dark. She walked through the house to the patio overlooking the swimming pool and a view of the city. The city shimmered in light and sounds, a cacophony of music could be heard, some distinct some muffled.
After a while the gate below opened and a car came up the driveway. Ricardo came into her arms all shadow and warmth. He carried her to the bedroom, touching her gently and then not so gently as he became passionate. He was like a Mexican god, his hands and lips caressing and pushing on her as his body melded with hers. The Goddess in Alice woke embracing this dark ocean in the sky of her being. She felt as if she were the Moon to his night sky, the fish in his sea, and the earth to his bright sun. And so they danced between spirit and flesh till they lay exhausted side by side.
And the Days Went on…
Somnambulant days smothered in heat and light went by. Alice spent her days wrapped in loose light clothing to protect her delicate skin. Being blonde and blue eyed was a disadvantage in this hot climate. She lived under her wide brim hat or the shade of the veranda where she read, wrote and meditated as the sun shone mercilessly through her dark sunglasses. The somnambulant quality of the days kept her from becoming restless, still she felt as if some creature were resting at the bottom of an ocean pending discovery. The image troubled her.
The master bedroom was dark; the windows open to the scent of flowers and the moistness of early am hours. She and Ricardo lay in each other’s arms, Alice asked gently “Qué passé? “What’s happening?” She knew her question broke an unspoken vow of collusion between them.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why do I only see you at night and we never go anywhere.”
“I’m working but in a while, we’ll meet with my ‘pillars’ and go out to one of the small islands in the bay and do chants. Don’t worry. Things will ease up for me in time and I’ll take you to special places and pyramids. It’s just difficult now. I’ll find you a driver to take you into town. You can go to the local beaches.”
“And what about the armed guard at the bottom of the driveway?”
“It’s dangerous here. I thought it would be best for now.”
“What are you involved with?”
“It is rather complicated. You might say I run a spiritual group which works on both the inner and outer planes. On the outer plane, we are aligned with supporting the empowerment of the native peoples through the Seventh Ray Guardians of Light also known as Church of Light. I am not directly involved with the outer aspect. I have a number of kiosks selling jewelry, here, in Mexico City and other places. In actuality, it is a way to pass on information and people. I run a message service you might say for both the inner and outer planes.”
“I thought this was a democracy.”
“It is and also the government is very repressive of native people. Mexico is a land of the rich and the very, very poor. We need to do something for the children and re-balance the power.”
“Is that why you are involved in ‘Club des Miracles’ in Montreal and their save the children promos?”
“Let’s say it interested me.”
“So if you are not directly involved, why the guard?”
“I’m the master shaman on the inner planes. And though magically defended, it was thought best the house and you should be guarded.”
“You have certain skills we need in our work here. And it helps that I am deeply attracted to you?” Ricardo said as he tilted his head and smiled slightly.
“I see” said Alice, fully taking in the implications and feeling her heart sink. She loved Ricardo; she thought he loved her, that he was touched by the power of their connection. And he was but not she realized in the personal way she felt towards him.
Ricardo had a driver, who spoke some English, made available to her. Alice began traveling to the local beaches, conscious that the driver also kept her under surveillance. She made friends with tourists and even a few locals but she existed for the nights, nights that started at midnight and went on to three or four in the morning.
“I began to feel” said Alice as she opened her eyes and turned to Clara, “like a woman living in a Jungian Myth. God meets woman in the middle of the night. The woman is not allowed to see the god in daylight, or not very much.
“I also felt all my co-dependency issues come up. I looked to Ricardo for everything and I found myself not wanting to do anything that wouldn’t please him. It seemed as if my survival depended on him. It was irrational as my credit cards and return ticket clearly told me. Strangely for an independent Western woman I found myself enjoying having Ricardo be totally in charge. Maybe it was all about the lovemaking and the deeply receptive feelings it brought up in me or maybe I was simply tired of being in charge of everything.”
Clara had replaced the herb tea with coffee. Alice and she shifted from the screened courtyard to the living room, wrapping themselves in shawls as they tucked themselves into the sprawling couch.
“I felt vulnerable not speaking the language,” continued Alice, but I soon got around with my pigeon Spanish. I wrote and meditated…I taught several workshops on healing, which were given in the evenings at the Church of Light and gave sessions to a stream of people who came to see me at Ricardo’s house for Vibrational Healing therapy. Their identities carefully checked by an armed guard inside the gate.
And still I had no idea what Ricardo was doing. He would disappear for days. When he was there it was wonderful, at least the nights were, they were filled with lovemaking and talks. Once or twice we stayed up till dawn and walked along the beachfront, having an early breakfast of one of the hotels. But usually there were no morning hours, only the nights.”
Her heart opened and shone like a floodlight when she heard the car coming up the drive but Ricardo was not alone this night. The car came up to the house with several friends.
“Good evening Senora Alice,” said Hector with the Aztec face, “This is Jesus and Roberto.” He turned to his comrades. One of them was an old Indian, there was a sense of power about him, the other was a Mexican of mixed blood in his late 20’s and very powerfully built. Ricardo came into the house calling for Maria, who brought drinks and food for everyone. After the meal, Ricardo turned to Alice saying “You better change, we’re going to the island.”
“What should I wear?”
“Something warm. It may get cool in the night. And a skirt, better wear a skirt.”
They drove down to the pier and clambered into the motor boat which took them across to an island in the middle of Acapulco Bay. Alice scrambled to the rocks hampered by the skirt she was wearing.
Once landed everyone seemed to stop and catch their breath. “Or perhaps they were just letting their souls catch up to their bodies” thought Alice. They stared into the night, the light of the beachfront restaurants glared back at them; the resonance of the rock n’ roll blasted across the waves. Cruise boats with Christmas lights shaped into hearts sailed on by. They moved to the side of the island facing seaward. One of the men brought out a drum and Alice listened as they began chanting and prayers.
They chanted the names of saints, inner plane masters and angels. Sometimes Hector, Ricardo’s Aztec ‘pillar’ would translate. The night became cool and Alice huddled in her jacket. The sound of the chants and the surf became increasingly hypnotic. Alice began to drift into trance. She felt light and disconnected from her body. A certain hum began vibrating through her being. Her mind rode the surf of her being lulled by the sound of the ocean. She wasn’t sure why she was here or why they were chanting but mystical experiences and meditation were her kind of high. ‘Anything that brings me closer to God, universe or myself is my cup of tea,’ she thought absently.
Somehow not knowing, what was supposed to happen or what the schedule of the events was to be, brought Alice into an acute sense of the present. ’Besides,’ she thought ruefully, ‘being with Ricardo was like this, an exercise in not knowing … at least he comes home eventually.’ Alice felt her sadness and then the feeling passed.
Hours and hours went by, Alice moved between meditation and trance, a deep sense of peace enfolding her. Finally the drumming began to accelerate, anticipation spread through the group even as the chanting became louder, each word spoken more potent than the next. A heaviness and excitement permeated the air. Alice slipped into a deeper trance, some part of her consciousness dropped out. She came awake to another level much as one can sometimes become conscious in dreams.
She felt she was in another dimension. Looking upwards Alice saw a large shinning object hovering over them. Joy and longing overwhelmed her. ‘Space ship,’ her mind named the object. Something in Alice felt she was coming home; the essence of ‘home’ was so close like a primal embrace and with it the sense of both longing and loss. She felt tears streaming down her face.
She glanced across at Ricardo. He came and took her hand then the two of them walked towards a narrow gang plank just lowered from the ship to the ground. They ascended onto the ship as they held on to each other and the thin guide rail.
They were greeted by aliens with large moist eyes, their elongated oval heads and hands appeared to have a white and textured quality. Their bodies and long limbs were covered in a plastic like jumpsuit; their feet were booted and clicked metallically. Alice felt tempted to laugh; they looked so stereotypic yet even in trance she refrained herself caught by the other worldliness of the experience.
Ricardo and she continued to hold hands. The warmth of his hand imparted safety.
“Welcome, brother and sister of the light,” communicated the taller of two creatures, telepathically, “are you ready for the transmission? You will be attuned to the higher vibrations so that you’ll be able to receive further communications without direct contact. It is difficult to arrange these meetings. Please come here.”
Ricardo and Alice were led into a pair of luminous shells, like two halves of an egg. They were strapped in and then the two halves came together. Alice felt herself turn into light and fuse with Ricardo more deeply than any lovemaking had made possible. The hum she had been feeling all evening increased as they fused.
The fusion expanded to include an even more numinous quality and suddenly there was silence and simply a knowing which came to Alice and Ricardo both, earth changes, when and where and what to do to modulate the influences.
They were directed to exude the new transmitted energy to heal the earth; the tidal wave hitting Japan; the hurricane striking Florida; the earthquakes, floods, fire. They experienced the pain of the earth’s damage, its creatures and people. They directed the healing rays of energy as squads of space craft assisted them on the inner planes.
Silence and the sounds of waves filled Alice’s ears. Dawn, not space craft hovered on the horizon. Seagulls wheeled and circled the tiny island, screaming; it seemed time to leave. Ricardo lay next to her. She pulled her skirt down over her thighs, realizing that her panties were torn and sticky with the wetness of sex. Somehow Ricardo had taken her sexually in this circle of these men. She remembered nothing. Only the experience of light and healing remained in memory.
Ricardo came awake shortly after her. She didn’t know what she felt about what must have happened. No-one said anything. They got back on the boat and returned to the harbor. They drove to the house and sat around the dining room table, the sunlight streamed through the house making the yellow stucco walls seem brighter.
“What did you see?” asked Roberto addressing Ricardo.
“Alice and I went into the spaceship and we were initiated into a new energy transmission. We will now be able to know when and where earth changes will happen. We will be able to organize the Church of Light to transmute these changes with the assistance of the aliens. In the process of modulating potential disasters; our people will be able to transform their own cellular structure and increase their telepathic abilities as Alice and I have this night. And as you, my ‘pillars’ have also begun to do so.”
Ricardo turned to Alice, “What happened for you?”
“It was much the same. I experienced fusion with you,” she skirted the sexual issue feeling too tense and vulnerable to deal with it in the moment. “I experienced the new energy coming in and knowledge of earth changes. “ Alice sipped the Mexican coffee Maria had brought her. “I’m really tired, I need to sleep now. Please excuse me.” Ricardo translated Alice’s words as she slipped off to her room. She was just falling asleep when she heard several shots fired and some scuffling then nothing more. She slept.
Ricardo came and lay beside her. Her eyes opened but her body felt leaden and glued to the bed. ‘Later,’ she thought, ‘I’ll talk to him later.’
They slept until sunset. Ricardo reached for Alice but she held him at arm’s length. “I need you to tell me what went on last night.” She felt heavy and sad inside but Alice also connected to her strength. “Was it just you who had sex with me on the island or was it your friends too? I remember nothing but there was semen on my underwear…I was in deep trance. That’s why you chose me for this mission, right?”
“It was only me, Alice. They saw hardly anything. That’s why I asked you to wear a skirt. And yes, I spotted your capacity to go into deep trance when we were in Montreal. I put you in trance the first night we spent together in a way you wouldn’t remember. I am sorry. I’m genuinely fond of you and also I needed someone with your psychic abilities and spiritual development.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think you would do all that I needed of you. Tantric sex to assist in our hooking up with UFO’s and healing the planet. I didn’t think it would go over too big. Perhaps now that you’ve experienced the fusion with the aliens, you’ll understand. At least the sexual part is optional now.”
“No more ritual sex?”
“Not unless you willingly participate.”
“I don’t know if I can deal with any more of this right now.” Alice turned away from Ricardo. “And the shooting I heard last night?”
“Neighborhood punks,” Ricardo said with a straight face.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, it’s nothing to trouble you with now.”
“Ricardo, it would be nice if you would let me decide for myself.”
“Later, we’ll talk later.” Ricardo got up and left the room. Alice felt like a misplaced Western woman in macho country.
Alice did not reveal to Clara all that transpired that night on the island. She simply glossed it over knowing Clara would not approve nor understand. Alice shared as much of her Acapulco journey as she felt might be received. Still curled into the down feathered velvet grey couch, she continued her story.
“Information from the UFO’s increased. I began to get coded messages having numeric sequences which after a channeling I would then decode. I can’t tell how I knew what the numeric sequences meant. Just to say that information came in one way and needed to be translated.” Alice sat telling an abbreviated version of her story yet even as she told it, Clara began to have the sensation of light information coming into her.
“I’m getting something,” said Clara sounding dazed “Someone named Pablo says that Ricardo is asking for you. Ricardo is making a transition into what he’s calling the light body. He’s asking that you come to be with him. He’s in a fragile state and can’t quite reach you, himself.”
“Very good Clara, one often begins to awaken these abilities in oneself by simply being in the presence of others who have them. Actually, this is wonderful! You see, Clara, I like Ricardo with me, have sensed your capacities to be a light bearer of unique abilities. I’ve been waiting for a clear sign.”
Alice placed her hand on Clara’s shoulder. It was as if sunshine radiated through Clara from the touch of her godmother’s hand. And in that moment a fusion of light exploded in Clara’s being, she found herself on the inner planes. She felt herself floating upwards through the gates of the Church of Light. Kneeling beside the inner sanctum were two men, one supporting and shielding the other. The elder shaman, in purple robes stood and turned to her. “Welcome Clara, you must be Alice’s God Daughter,” Ricardo smiled warmly as he continued to telepathically communicate, “Tell Alice it is urgent and dangerous. She must be careful. The inner plane wars among conflicting extraterrestrials are about to destroy the human potential. She must join forces with us. And I need her. Tell her I love her that I have always loved her as much as she loved me. It was just too dangerous.
“And also, she had her path to live. Now the end is near for everyone. And I am about to pass over. There are things I must give her.”
“Tell her not to come on the inner plane. They will notice her. Her light is too bright, it will attract attention more than I can protect at this time.” He stroked Clara’s face and again she felt the fusion of light and consciousness. She found herself back in her living room.
Alice was waiting and handed her a cup of strong hot coffee. Clara gratefully took a few sips and shared her journey.
“Feliz Navidad Clara!” exclaimed Alice looking happier than Clara had ever seen her. “Perhaps we should call a travel agent…after all you haven’t experienced Acapulco, the Sodom and Gomorrah of Mexico. And also in my last dream Ricardo had an apprentice about your age, could be this the other shaman in your vision and dream, Pablo? I felt a connection between you two….you could use some love and magic in your life.” Alice smiled luminously and angels crept across lips and fluttered around her eyes.
“But the children…”
“Don’t worry. I will talk with your sister. If it gets safe again they can come down later. Feliz Navidad,”Alice whispered and a powerful ball of consciousness bloomed in Clara’s heart, feeling much like a Christmas ornament…all sparkly.