“So, at the hospital, when I ran into that guy trying to take Elena, I lost my focus once I hit him?”
“Yes, crashing into him probably shocked you... but I don’t think he knows for sure. He does believe that if you can find a way to relax and manage your thoughts better during the fighting, Evan can have more influence over your body.”
“Relax? How in the hell am I supposed to do that? I’m not a trained fighter. I’m a... a gentle person.” Clay flinched at his inability to find a better phrase to describe himself. “I put in flowers for a living, you know? I mean... for Pete’s sake.”
Evan looked at him with a mocking stare. Martha chuckled as she asked Clay, “He wants to know if you’re done, sweetheart, or do you need to rant a little more?”
A flash of anger passed over Clay’s face for a moment, then the tension melted from him, his shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled to himself. “Okay, point taken.”
Evan continued through Martha. “You call yourself a gentle man. That’s good. In oriental culture, so-called ‘gentle-men’ carry much fury with them. You have been provoked, and when someone with bad intentions pushes a man who chose a gentle life, as you might call it, they are likely to unleash the beast hidden within the man.”
Clay looked fixedly at Evan for a moment, then dropped his gaze to the floor. His eyes wetted slightly as chills ran over his entire body. Evan had struck a chord. Clay had never really thought about the beast within, but perhaps he’d sensed its veiled presence, at the ready should a situation demand it. In college he had enjoyed the roughness of rugby, maybe then he’d subconsciously indulged his beast. He definitely found a deep sense of satisfaction while cultivating the physical toughness rugby required. This self-awareness could also be one of the biggest reasons he liked landscaping. It was hard yet rewarding work. It challenged him physically and he felt connected.
Martha continued for Evan, “We don’t have much time. His point is that this is a mental game for you. If you can manage to remain calm and stay focused on the ultimate goal of saving Elena and protecting Jackie, then Evan can maintain the connection longer and work through you more effectively.”
“I’ll try,” Clay said. He glanced up and saw Evan frowning and shaking his head.
Martha also noticed Evan’s reaction. “I agree,” she added.
“What?” Clay said, raising his hands palms up. Again, Martha chose not to risk wounding Clay’s confidence by stating the obvious.
Clay sat back in the chair and let out an exhausted sigh. “Look, I get what you’re trying to say...”
As Clay returned his gaze to Martha, he stopped mid-sentence. His eyes widened in surprise again as he saw the golden flints of light orbiting the edges of her irises.
“You see it, don’t you?”
“Y-yes, hints of golden light in your eyes,” Clay managed to say.
“You’re not the only one who learned today that they have a gift for amalgamation.”
“H-how... Who, I mean...” Clay stammered as he looked around as if searching for a thought floating in the air. “Explain to me what’s happening to you. It might help.”
“I’m not sure I know myself, at least not well enough to explain it right now.”
“The strength... I can feel it emanating from you, like I don’t know what,” Clay said with a look of astonishment.
Martha held his gaze for a moment, then glanced to the side and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I feel it too.” She brought her focus back to Clay. “But we have more pressing things to talk about. I can teach you to focus your mind better so you can relax while fighting. But we have little time,” Martha explained as she blew out the candle, the sparks in her eyes fading slowly.
Clay stared at her in amazement. This is going to be a day to remember—if I survive. They heard the hatch crunk shut on the SUV.
Michael took a few steps toward them. “Let’s roll.”
Martha put her hand out. “Come. I can show you on the way there.” Her supremely confident and slightly conspiratorial smile gave Clay the encouragement he needed to rise almost effortlessly and take her hand.
𓂓
Carmen sat on the edge of her bed next to Elena, her hand rested lightly on the back of a child who felt scared and alone. “We were taken from our family too when we were young.”
Elena looked up, her eyes large with concern. “I’m sorry,” eliciting coos from Carmen, Frederica, and Rosaria.
Kneeling in front of them, Frederica and Rosaria said together, “Thank you, ninita, thank you.”
Carmen smiled at both of her sisters-in-spirit and returned to her story. “The Inti Raymi had begun, a festival celebrating the harvest at the time of our winter solstice,” Carmen said wistfully. As she spoke, memories of a world that existed in a time not too long ago began to swirl around them. Their village in the mountains materialized in the combined passions of their imaginations as she described the home they were taken from. The four of them spirited back to a happier time surrounded with cheerful smiles, delicious food cooking on open fires, and music playing. The comfort found in the constant hum of conversation between families and friends who worked and lived so closely together.
“At the festival, we performed every night,” Carmen remembered. “Thousands of people dressed in brilliant red costumes trimmed with elegant golden fringe performed ancient rituals dedicated to the life-giving sun.” Her passion infused each word as she spoke. “The Elders carried golden staffs and wore elaborate headdresses adorned with colorful feathers and Incan symbols. Men and women danced everywhere there was space to dance. Vendors scattered throughout the event selling traditional foods, Chiri Uchu, chicharrones, anticuchos, chicha...”
Frederica and Rosaria closed their eyes and wrapped their arms around their tummies with soft, hungry groans, “Uuuummmm,” at the mention of their favorites.
“Wooowwww,” Elena said with fascination glinting in her eyes.
Carmen was practically glowing by the time she finished. She closed her eyes, savoring the evocation. It had been many years since she transported herself and her sisters back to those special times they’d shared. It had been too painful to talk about. The memories stirred a connection deep down within her being. A part of her that desired immeasurably and passionately to be free. A part of herself she had tamped down over the years. That part of her welled up again. The notion made her frightened yet determined once again.
Suddenly, Carmen became overwhelmed and began to sob softly, tears streamed from her closed eyes. Rosaria continued for her, “We grew up in the same small village. Since we were children, the three of us practiced instruments, singing, and dancing together.”
Elena fiddled distractedly with her dress, her head slightly tilted. Then she placed a hand over Carmen’s in a gesture of solidarity and gave Rosaria and Frederica an expectant look.
Carmen seemed noticeably comforted by the strength of this little girl that had been thrust into their lives.
“When we came of age, our beauty and talent became legendary in the Americas.” Frederica stood and performed a single pirouette landing with her arms extended in croisé.
Carmen looked up. A desperate tear-strewn smile broke through her sadness. Then she and Rosaria laughed softly together. Looking at them tentatively, Elena joined in with a small smile.
Rosaria raised her hand to guide Frederica back down beside her. “It has been too long,” Rosaria said. They shared an intense smiling look and squeezed each other’s hands before turning back to Elena and Carmen.
Feeling better, Carmen continued, “Before starting our performances, we would stand before our audience with our hands on our hearts and introduce ourselves.”
Rosaria nodded in agreement. “We were known as the Paititi Three.”
