The Secret World of Maya Alexander

Chapter 64

As had become customary during this period of her life, Maya stirred into her semi-conscious state between the hours of eight and nine am. Even though her mind continued its sway in distant realms, her body had managed to resume a predictable enough routine so that she never kept the nurses on morning duty waiting for too long. There had been a time when she had understood about the importance of punctuality. A time when she had never liked the uncertainty of being kept waiting. Maybe there was a part of her being, which had  lingered on and urged her to assume a predictable rhythm within the small daily routines she now found herself contained within? Maybe that was not the only part of her that remained?

There were no parking spaces to navigate that morning. Nor did she have the dilemma of choosing which floral blouse might best disguise the rounded pot belly that had formed along her midriff. On that particular morning, after being dressed and sat up in the day chair, Maya glanced down at what had become a neatly rounded bump poking from beneath her loose floral blouse.  An uncertain yet familiar flutter danced around beneath its landscape like a secret.

Not sufficiently awake to question her senses, her eyes darted back out of the window where the early whisperings of Spring called out from a less well known, yet somehow still familiar group of Silver Birch trees. Tiny green egg shaped buds were appearing once again at the end of thin branches. They whispered heard before promises of a future of thick green vitality to awaken the senses and banish the barrenness of a cold winter. Murmuring the unveiling of the warm secrets of Spring.

Maya's chest tightened and she felt a rush to her head. The vision was too much. Her lids shut tight to close out the light, but her mind only returned her to the haunting cries in a faraway land. She was trapped. Drifting between two worlds. Both reaching out.  Calling for her. But she did not understand the demands either world was seeking from her. Or was it the other way around?

Perhaps she was at a point so desperately close to wanting nothing at all that there was nowhere left to go and nothing more to seek.

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The darkness of the cave behind her closed eyes, delivered a strange comfort despite its haunting cries. The cries penetrated and echoed from an ache deep within her bones. An ache that she was learning to recognise as part of her being. A throb that she was learning to accept.

When she had first heard the cries she tried to cover her ears to stop the pain of their piercing. But the screeching continued inside of herself. She would try to sing a lullaby to soothe those tortured sounds. And though the wailing would soften into a more gentle and tolerable rhythm, still they came. Unending. She had tried to leave the cave, and to venture back out into the world of pure beauty. Yet the light of the world which had resumed its peaceful abundance, stabbed at her eyes. Leaves began to fall from trees as her noise sent waves through the forest.  The cries followed  her wherever she went. She could not bear to see the devastation that befell in the wake of that sound.

Scared. Ashamed. Guilty. She ran.  Back into the cave. Where the cries were held hostage and could no longer disturb the perfection of the world beyond her dark yet comfortable cavern.

Secure within her darkness once more, Maya grew brave enough to peer out from the cave. The world outside greeted her with an autumnal aroma. Berries bursting, rains rising with ripened riches, soils soft and moist and delicious, leaves dancing in the sky as though in celebration. A cry called from the sky above. It sent her eyes reaching towards the highest of the seven suns. Soaring from its centre, there was a second mighty bird. A feathered body of gold and red hues, flew fierce and fast and bold. A tender yet unforgettable cry stretched towards her. The land became still.