Woman King

CHAPTER 9

Not long after drinking the tea I began to feel ill. Elsa must have known what was coming because she was at my side, quickly guiding me toward the sink where I began to wretch. Lily was also there, running her hand up and down my back in a soothing motion. They were both murmuring words in my ear to calm me, but I was in no shape to understand. Large sounds filled my head—vibrations, really—that resonated off my sternum as I grasped the edge of the sink. A great freight train was barreling through me, and I could feel it coming down the tracks through every bone in my body.

“What is happening to me?” I asked, my heart racing inside my chest.

Elsa grasped my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Don’t be afraid. Whatever happens Lily and I will not leave your side. Just remember: Not everything you see tonight will be real.”

We must have left the house after Elsa’s remarks, but the particulars of our exit are a bit fuzzy. Next, we were walking through a pair of ornate green iron gates that featured delicate-looking vines and leaves. We strode onto a red brick path sheltered by a canopy of trees. Moonlight illuminated the path and suddenly I felt as if I were a bride in a wedding, although what I was about to be joined with remained a mystery. In the middle of the path sat a well-worn sundial perched on a stone pedestal. The metal glowed with a golden light. Fascinated, I reached out to touch the illuminated dial. The moment my skin made contact with the triangle of the dial, I felt a jolt of energy run through my body as a panoply of voices began to pierce my skull. I laughed aloud as if I understood the joke, and tried to listen to the conversation.

Before I could lock onto a single word, Elsa removed my hand from the dial. I turned to face her and exhaled suddenly. She was awash in color, shimmering waves of yellow, orange and green pouring from her body.

“Oh my God, oh my God!” I exclaimed, reaching out to touch the light. “You’re so beautiful.”

“What do you see?” she asked.

“I see colors,” I said. “I hear voices and I see colors.”

“Good,” Elsa said. “Don’t worry, you’re not crazy. The peyote is working. Let’s see what happens next.”

I looked up to see billowing strands of moss hanging from a Monterey pine. A cold wind arrived, carrying in a wicked fog bank that was rolling across the park at a furious speed. I should have been cold, but instead my skin burned as the crisp air enveloped me. On fire, I quickly shrugged out of my fleece and flung it to the ground. Again, I lost track of time, and when I refocused, I found that we were standing in the main concourse of Golden Gate Park, where the de Young Museum and Academy of Sciences are located. I swallowed hard, my tongue feeling too large for my mouth.

The park was bursting with noise. Every living being, it seemed, made some kind of sound as it moved. The night was awash in color. I absorbed all of this information and felt it take root as a young tree establishes itself in new ground. I laughed again, feeling an uncanny sense of new knowledge. I was ruminating on the meaning of the sounds I was hearing when my attention was abruptly drawn to a fountain in the center of the concourse.

The bowl of the fountain was illuminated by lights below it, and in the center of its pedestal stood an enormous stone saber-toothed tiger. Trapped between its massive claws was a serpent that was partially coiled around the cat’s body. Locked in a fierce battle, the massive, muscled arms of the cat, which looked more human than feline, seemed to be moving, wrestling with the snake.

I sat down on a wooden bench nearby, unable to tear my gaze away from the fountain.

“It’s Elsa!” I yelled aloud, surprised at the sound of my voice. “It’s Elsa taking on the devil.”

Now Elsa laughed. “What do you hear, Olivia?”

Responding to her question, I strained to listen. At first I could not detect any sound coming from the fountain. But as I focused, I began to feel a vibration moving through my body and I stood up, unable to sit still.

“Up,” I said. “It’s saying, ‘Get up and come in.’ ”

Elsa preened like a proud mother. “Very good. That’s exactly what it’s saying. One day soon we will go inside, but for now we have to say goodbye to The Guardian.”

“The Guardian,” I whispered to myself. As I murmured the name, I caught sight of a light coming from a large tower in front of us. I also could feel the intense light. “Bright!” I screamed as the light expanded behind my eyes, momentarily blinding me. I pressed my hands to my eye sockets and bent my head in pain.

“What light, Olivia?” Lily asked. “Where is the light coming from?”

I pointed up toward the tower, which belonged to the de Young Museum.

Elsa turned me so that my back was away from the source of the light. “You must breathe deeply and try to push the light out of your mind, Olivia. Focus on the light and push it away.”

The pain from the light roiled my already sensitive stomach. Taking a deep breath, eventually I was able to do what Elsa asked. I inhaled and exhaled, slowly bringing my attention to the center of my forehead where the pain was the strongest.

Meanwhile, Elsa had begun shouting at no one in particular in a language I didn’t understand. While Lily stood nearby looking grim, Elsa walked briskly to the fountain, touched the edge of the cement and disappeared.

Hand outstretched, I screamed for her. Lily was at my side immediately, pulling me away. Quickly we grabbed our things and began to run, setting a brisk pace through the wet foggy night. As we passed through the damp, muddy trails of the park’s forests, I removed more clothing, dropping items along the way. My body temperature continued to climb, despite the fact that I was now wearing nothing but a running bra and bike shorts.

“I need water, Lily,” I said, my throat raw from running in the cold night air.

She opened a backpack and handed me a bottle.

“Drink,” she said. “The effects of the tea will start to wear off in a few hours.”

“Is Elsa coming back?”

“I’m not sure,” Lily said. “She had to go see someone.”

“She disappeared,” I said, distracted by the buzzing in my ears.

Lily nodded. “Yes. But she will come back.”

Very quickly, we found ourselves back in the land of glowing flowers, strolling through an open meadow, dotted with pink and purple foxglove. We crossed a road, climbed a dirt path and after a few minutes of walking, came to stand before Stow Lake, a man-made lake established in Golden Gate Park in the 1800’s. Half-dressed and disheveled, I paused on the sidewalk, transfixed by a small island a few hundreds yards inside the enormous lake from where I stood. The island, shrouded in mist and almost completely covered by a fallen tree and overgrown flowering vines, seemed to be calling to my overheated body.

It didn’t take much for me to oblige.

“Hot!” I cried out, and waded into the lake.

“Olivia, noooo!” came Lily’s frantic cry, as she jumped in after me.

We swam to the island, but never made it out of the water thanks to a ring of thorny blackberry bushes lining the shore. Rebuffed, we made our way back onto dry land. Standing on the sidewalk and dripping wet, Lily removed a small towel from her pack and handed it to me.

“It’s not much, but it will help dry you a bit,” she said, rubbing the water off of her arms and legs as she spoke.

I sat down on a nearby bench and began to listen to the world around me. A cacophony of sounds rang in my ears. I could hear the fish swimming below the surface of the water. I detected the faint sound of owls in the trees rustling their wings. Smiling, I took Lily’s hand in my own.

“This place is alive,” I said with conviction.

Lily smiled and squeezed my hand back. “See what you have been missing,” she said gently. “Now, you are really alive, too.”