The Retreat
May 17, 2000
Parvaneh stood outside the closed bedroom door, the tray of pureed food cooling as she dawdled. She hadn’t seen Shirin since the incident in the meeting hall, and she wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for Basir. Stressed with the arrival of a delivery truck bringing their monthly supply of flour, sugar, rice, and all the things they couldn’t grow or butcher themselves, he’d told Parvaneh to take care of the old woman, and she hadn’t had a choice in the matter.
As nice as Darius had been the day Shirin’s leg broke, as much as it seemed he’d forgiven her, the last week had made Parvaneh feel as invisible as she’d ever been on the streets of Portland. With the exception of sympathetic, kind looks from Eszter, no one else would even meet her eyes. Except for stern orders, even Basir wouldn’t speak to her. Darius had told her this was by his instruction, so she could understand the importance of remaining on a journey even when you weren’t being constantly praised for each step. She wasn’t a dog, was she? Did she really need to be fed a treat every time she sat on command?
She’d promised herself she’d learn the lesson, and she knew it would be worth it. And as hard as this was, it was still a million times better here than the streets. No one took advantage of her. She never went hungry. She had a place to sleep each night. Even though no one was speaking to or looking at her, she knew they were doing it to help her. And she had a shot at something more if she could just get over herself, her greed and mistrust. Maybe that would start today, with Shirin. She let out a breath and, steadying the tray, opened Shirin’s bedroom door.
Shirin lay beneath her blanket, with her splinted, wrapped leg propped on a special wooden platform that had probably been made by Tadeas, who seemed fairly handy. She peered at the ceiling, her lips moving but only hoarse whispers coming forth.
“Hi,” Parvaneh said quietly, not wanting to startle the old woman, who hadn’t seemed to notice her entrance. She shuffled forward with the tray, around the mattress, to the little table and chair next to the bed, the only other furniture in the room. “I brought you a meal.” She smiled. “Made with love.”
Shirin didn’t respond. The ceiling held her interest.
Parvaneh sat down in the chair, picked up the spoon. Basir had said she’d probably need to feed Shirin. “Do you want an extra pillow under your head?”
“Tell him I won’t,” Shirin said, her voice weak and rustling. “He can try to get me, but I won’t go.”
“Shirin?”
“Don’t tell Aunt Jewell. She crocheted that sweater for me last Christmas, and he threw it into the fire. That’s how I burned them.” Shirin splayed her skinny fingers wide.
“Shirin,” said Parvaneh. “It’s time to eat.” She scooped up a small amount of the mush from the bowl. “Have a bite. It sure does smell good.” She passed the spoon beneath Shirin’s nose to give her a whiff.
“I think it was synthetic,” Shirin whispered. “It melted. And then it burned, and he made me watch.”
“Here you go.” Parvaneh moved the spoon close to Shirin’s papery lips.
“I won’t,” she said. “I won’t.” Tears glinted at the corners of her eyes.
“You need to eat,” Parvaneh said gently. It seemed like Shirin was drifting between now and then, present and past. There was a strange energy in the faint pulse in the hollow of her throat. She poked the corner of Shirin’s mouth, and a bit of food smeared on her upper lip.
Shirin flinched. “I already signed it,” she said. “You can’t do anything now.”
“Please,” Parvaneh said. “If you don’t eat, I might get in trouble.” She poked Shirin’s mouth again, and just as she went to slip the spoon between her lips, Shirin turned her head, so this time, the food smeared across her cheek. “Come on!”
She scooped up another bite of food, sweat prickling on the back of her neck in the stuffy, dark room.
“Look at that,” Shirin said, her eyes unfocused. “Yes, I’d love to dance.” She smiled at the ceiling. “I haven’t seen you here before.” She began to hum a tune, off-key and grating.
Parvaneh shuddered. She leaned over and tried to part the old woman’s lips. Shirin grimaced but didn’t resist. She opened her mouth to say something, and Parvaneh slipped the spoon inside, depositing a lump of the congealed slop on the woman’s tongue. Shirin’s eyes went wide, and she gasped.
And then her eyes went wider. Her mouth hung open and her body lurched. Her hands clawed at her throat. Parvaneh watched, paralyzed as a million thoughts spun inside her mind. How could someone choke on porridge?
“Come on, Shirin,” she said, her voice oddly singsong. “I’ll help you sit up.”
Awkwardly, she pulled a pillow from the stack under the bed and tried to lift the rigid woman’s head, but Shirin bucked and arched, in silent combat with herself. Her face had gone beet red. Parvaneh shoved her arm beneath the woman’s sharp shoulder blades, yanked her up, and slapped her on the back. Saliva stretched from Shirin’s mouth, a thin thread all the way to the covers in her lap.
“Help,” Parvaneh shouted. “She’s choking!” She kept slapping, pulling Shirin forward, hoping that wasn’t a bone breaking beneath the frantic collisions of her palm with Shirin’s spine. “Help,” she screamed. “Someone help!”
Fabia and Ladonna appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing to her?” Fabia shrieked. “You’re hurting her!”
“She’s choking! I don’t know what to do!”
Darius pushed between the two women. “Get her to the meeting room,” he said tersely. Tadeas and Kazem entered and made for the bed.
Hands closed over Parvaneh’s. Pulled her away from Shirin, who continued to writhe, her face purple. Eszter held her tight, providing safety and warmth. Parvaneh relaxed, feeling the hard lump of Eszter’s meditation stone against her back.
“Hurry,” Darius said. “The time is now.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Parvaneh begged. “I was just trying to feed her!”
“Shh,” said Eszter, her arms still tight around Parvaneh’s body. “You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.” She steered her through the door and guided her out of the building, across the clearing, toward the meeting hall. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay quiet.”
She was the opposite of okay. Everyone had been shunning her, and now she was going to be blamed for hurting Shirin again. They were going to kick her out—no money, no name, no shelter, no food. They were going to send her away and let her die.
She began to cry.
“No,” whispered Eszter as they reached the door to the hall. “This isn’t about you.” She took Parvaneh’s face in her hands. “Focus on the moment.”
Parvaneh gritted her teeth, wanting to scream. Everything had gone wrong so fast.
Eszter let her go and pushed her inside and up the aisle, where everyone stood at the altar, surrounding Shirin. With little shoves and a constant stream of soothing words, Eszter propelled Parvaneh all the way up the steps.
“She should stand next to me,” Darius said.
Eszter tugged on Parvaneh’s hand, her expression a million messages at once—stay calm, I’m here, it’s okay, I’m terrified. “Come on,” she said aloud. “Do as he says.”
Parvaneh hadn’t even realized he was talking about her. Dazed, she let Darius clasp her hand and pull her toward him. Right next to Shirin’s head, her open eyes, her lips turning purplish blue, her fingers scraping at her tongue.
Darius yanked Parvaneh against him, her belly pressed to the altar. He grabbed her wrists and moved her hands toward Shirin’s body.
She pulled back instinctively. This woman was dying, and no one was talking about 911 or ambulances or hospitals. They were just letting her suffer.
“Stop fighting me,” Darius murmured. He forced her palms to Shirin’s throat. Parvaneh cried out, feeling the loose skin of the woman’s neck, the trembling beneath her skin. “Feel it,” he said. “Feel the consciousness reaching for her. For us.”
Parvaneh didn’t want to feel it. She didn’t want to feel anything. She didn’t want to exist. Darkness licked at the edges of her vision. Her whole body tingled. Darius pressed himself against her back while everyone else murmured words beyond her comprehension.
Parvaneh gagged. She couldn’t breathe. Darius wedged his knee between her legs, holding her upright. The fog closed in, and her ears began to ring. The only things she could still feel were Shirin’s twitching throat and Darius, his body a cage, forcing her fingers closed. The din in her head grew louder, the sound slicing through her brain, cutting her into pieces.
And then everything went silent and black.
She awoke to the sound of water dripping and gasped at the feel of a cool rag on her forehead.
“Be still,” Darius said. “You’re safe.”
She opened her eyes. She was lying on her back in one of the private rooms like Shirin had—actually, this was Shirin’s room. “Is Shirin—”
“The consciousness welcomed her soul back into its loving embrace, and as she began her journey, we all felt it.”
“But you—you made me—”
“We all knew it was time for Shirin to return to the consciousness,” he explained. “And you had the honor of witnessing her departure.”
“We caused her departure,” she whispered. “Why didn’t we help her?”
“This was what she wanted. She was a true follower of the consciousness. We were lucky to have had her for as long as we did.” His voice was somber but not sad.
“She looked scared,” Parvaneh said, hoping she didn’t sound accusatory. She was terrified that this would be blamed on her. At the thought, tears started in her eyes. “I was trying to feed her. I didn’t want to hurt her!”
“No one said you hurt her.”
“Fabia did.”
He frowned. “It sounds like Fabia was the one who was scared. And not in touch with the movement of the consciousness through all of us.” His eyes met hers. “But you felt it. You touched it, and you recognized it, didn’t you?”
Parvaneh opened her mouth to argue, but wasn’t this what she wanted? “I…think maybe?”
“You recognized the force of it even if you don’t have words to describe it. The deep profoundness of all of it—it was too much for you to bear in that moment.”
“I fainted,” she murmured, realizing he must have carried her here, stupid and helpless.
“You were overwhelmed when it touched you.” He stroked the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “You shuddered in my arms. You made me feel it too.” His fingertips traced down the column of her throat.
It reminded her of Shirin’s throat, twitching and pulsing as her soul fought its way out of her body. She shivered.
“See?” he whispered. “You feel it even now. And once again, you make me feel it too.” He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
Parvaneh didn’t move. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry.
His lips descended on hers, his tongue jutting between her lips. His hand closed over her throat, holding her there. She froze with the shock, with the sharp, hot demand of it. He pulled back, breathing hard. “You make me taste it,” he said roughly. “I can feel the consciousness calling to me from inside of you. It wants us to connect. Soul to soul. I knew you were special.”
She stared up at him, uncertain, hopeful, terrified. Her entire self was a jumble of mismatched signals, memories, words. “I…I think I feel it,” she said hesitantly.
He nodded, as if that was what he expected. He stroked her hair away from her face. “I know the last few weeks have been hard on you. I know you’ve wondered if this was the right place for you. You wondered if anyone cared and especially if I cared. I’ve seen it all. Even when you think I wasn’t looking, wasn’t seeing, I saw.”
It hit her square in the chest. Tears streaked down her cheeks. She turned on her side, sobbed while he contained all of her in his arms.
She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, with Darius whispering words of understanding in her ear, telling her that she was helping him on his journey. In her whole life, nothing had felt this safe and good. After the most frightening minutes of her life, here she was: held and accepted and seen. Finally. She nestled into him, greedy for every second and breath he was willing to share.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I hate to leave you, but I need to check on the others.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I understand.”
His hand rested on her head. “I know an experience that profound leaves its mark on a person, and I am going to help you through it.”
She nodded. Turned her head to find his face close to hers. This time, the kiss was slower but no less demanding. As before, confusion twisted with fear and hope inside her. Was this romantic, or was it spiritual? Was she supposed to want him in this kind of sexual way?
What she wanted was to be safe. To make sure this was her place, where no one could uproot her. She welcomed him, arching upward. He groaned and let her go. “I’m having trouble focusing,” he said with a chuckle. “Your soul speaks to me so clearly.”
“I feel it too.”
He stood up. “Tonight, after our group meditation session, you and I will meet privately to continue your guidance.” He reached into the pocket of his robe. When his hand emerged, it was curled into a fist.
“Each week, we send a group to town, to do some cleaning jobs and shopping for the things we don’t purchase in bulk. Supplies for the children and such. Would you like to be assigned to this team next week?”
She nodded. She hadn’t been off the compound for months. It felt like a huge reward.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
She did without hesitation. Would he kiss her again? Did she want him to? Did it matter anymore?
The questions fell silent as she felt him take her hand. Turn her palm to the ceiling. A warm, hard-edged object was pressed into her hand. He curled her fingers around it. And then he left, closing the door with a soft click.
Parvaneh opened her eyes. Looked down at her hand, her fingers opening like the petals of a flower. Sitting on her palm was a meditation stone, blue with markings she’d only just begun to recognize.
She cradled it to her chest as she laughed and cried until her body relaxed into sleep.