Star Woman in Love (41 page)

“Go to the fairy tree, Oscar is waiting for you there.”

I finished my cup of tea and kissed the girls goodbye. They were not surprised by my erratic ways anymore. I didn’t even need to offer an explanation. I ran up the hill following the friendly bird to the place where you and I would meet at last.

The air was electric. I looked up and saw you, as you stood in the shadow of the Fairy Tree. My heart missed a beat, and then it expanded into forever. It was our heyday again, after all this time.

* * * *

Shambhala, 22 December 2012

The day the Earth had been waiting for arrived and went uneventfully. No Prophecy was fulfilled. Nothing happened. The Blue Planet was the same as it ever was. No new development, no evolution. Some people insisted that the Shift was taking place in humankind’s consciousness. The truth was that not one single comma had been removed from the previous day’s script. Indeed, things would be getting worse from now onwards. Violence and natural catastrophes were multiplying on the planet. Individuals were reaching inwards, and no longer outwards, in their quest for survival. Selfishness was the rule. War raged in many places, and famine and disease, and the worst types of abuse and poverty. There was no hope for humanity. The species was cursed, immutably so.

Meta-Cassandra sat by the Fairy Lake in contemplation. She was gazing at her beautiful face reflected in the water, experiencing the solitude of perfection, where no one can intrude lest they disturb another’s perfectly trimmed halo. She ran her fingers through the waves of her hair, as she often did, in a gesture that indicated she had all the Time in the world. She could surely bide time: she didn’t need any here. From her privileged observation point, coordinates 21-12-2012 had been a major anticlimax. Now she was pondering over the suffering that had been plaguing the Earth in recent years, and which would continue for time to come. Humankind was doomed. She had once been one of them in a parallel dimension. But now she should feel completely removed from their ordeal. Except her heart kept wanting to go back. She couldn’t help but wonder who or what was calling her again, and where to. No answer was forthcoming.

Meanwhile, Oscar had lost all hope of establishing any contact with Shambhala. His life was enveloped in darkness. His thoughts of Cassandra were the only hope of a possibility of a better humanity somewhere in the future. She was gone though, like a ghost, like an angel, too etheric a presence to hold on to the heavy duties of living in his world. Where was she now? Had the Prophecy that she long spoke of ever come to anything?

We were their guardian angels on constant alert. Oscar’s despair was relentless, while Meta-Cassandra’s yearning was returning. We knew the Plan had failed. A mistake had been made somewhere in the labyrinth among dimensions and time-travelling coordinates. Somehow the wires had crossed. Meta-Cassandra’s doubting presence was becoming a burden for our Island. We had to send her back to Earth, and let her meet her fate again. There were things to untangle and even out, loose ends to tie together. Did she still have it in her? Was Oscar able for her? We had stopped believing in them, and this had also caused problems to the stability of our mindset, which was required for Shambhala to exist. The only thing the Twins had ultimately contributed to the White Island was the apprehension we felt over events to come.

* * * *

Lumiel warned Meta-Cassandra of what was about to happen: the Masters wanted to destroy the Earth for good. It was going to be wiped out. There was going to be a big explosion and, then, nothingness would spread everywhere. They felt that the Blue Planet experiment had come to nothing. She didn’t have much time, they wanted her to go back to Earth and remember, and fulfil her purpose this time around. If she succeeded, the planet would survive. If not, it would perish, and she with it, as her mind was still enmeshed in Earthly memories. Lumiel wanted to help her. Once on Earth, he told her, if she were to discover that she couldn’t carry out her mission, she should come back to Shambhala as soon as possible, before it was too late and she shared the fate of the Earth. There was a portal back to Shambhala in case of an emergency; she should remember that.

* * * *

Dublin, 22 December 2012

The city looked very different when I arrived. I had descended on a dark morning and the sun had not risen yet. At once I realised why I was there: to end it all with you. I had to say goodbye this time. Closure was necessary for the Plan to endure. We were to be no more. By saying farewell, you would be released and I could finally let you go. It would be my final act of love towards you.

My descent into matter had made me feel very gloomy. Horrid memories had come back to haunt me as soon as my Light-Body had condensed into denser substance. I remembered how cruelly you had treated me, how hard you had found it to get in touch with me, and how coldly the Masters had stopped my memories of you in Shambhala.

There wasn’t an ounce of me in any these circumstances. I was the victim of other people’s decisions. All the negativity had come from external agents. I was innocent and under attack. If this was the replay I was supposed to enact, I wanted to rebel. If it was you I was meant to find, I wouldn’t comply this time. I no longer wanted to save the Plan: I craved freedom from it, and from you. I knew the way out. Rebellion had worked for Lumiel before. He had taught me how to be myself at last.

By the afternoon I had booked a ticket for Peru and was ready to escape from my past. Recession-plagued Ireland was no fun place to be. A loveless life was not the one I had ever intended to live. There was a solution, but I had to head to Machu Picchu straight away; I would always be able to return to Shambhala from there.

Perhaps that was my message to you, pointing you on your way Home again. It was my simple attempt to leave a trail of breadcrumbs for you to follow, in my trail. A part of me was hoping that you would find them. That part of me still had to have you, and take you away from the Earth. The rest of my mind, however, was raging against you. I wanted to be as far away from you as possible. Ah, if I could only forget you forever. For the first time in my existence, I realised I was tired of being alive. I had started to pine for death: the ultimate freedom. The idea of eternity on my own was becoming repulsive.

* * * *

Shambhala watching Dublin, last day of 2012

Lumiel realised that Cassandra’s transformation in reverse was finally complete. She was really ready to become human this time. She could embrace the depths of despair that accompany mortality, and a reality that is impermanent and dangerous. She had learned her lesson at last, she had found the courage. By embracing her limits, her losses, her fears and her hatred, she could now become the beautiful human being he felt that she was always meant to be. And she could finally let go of all the walls around her soul that had kept her a prisoner of her ideals, and separate from the human species for so long. Yes, she had had a tough life. Yes, she had always been afraid of loving lest she lose the objects of her love, just like she had her parents when she was a child. But she was ready now. She was brave and capable of accepting a world without Shambhala, where there were no Masters and no Plan. The plane of matter could now embrace Cassandra’s new life like a long-lost lover. She wanted it more than anything else in the world.

* * * *

Machu Picchu, 5 January 2013

I had greeted the arrival of the New Year in Peru, joining in the celebrations of the tourists staying at my hotel in Lima. A few days later, we had boarded the train in Cuzco early in the morning and had reached Machu Picchu station in a matter of hours. It was the worst of the rainy season. Many among us had refused to climb the sacred peak. I hadn’t come here to quit at the last hurdle and reached the summit of the Machu Picchu Mountain with just the meagre group of visitors led by our guide.

Leaving the group behind, I went looking for Master Kuthumi’s Ascension Chamber in the ether above a particular spot at the site. I found it easily. As soon as I entered it, I disappeared into a cloud of mist. When the guide couldn’t find me, he tried to trace my steps. He found my bag and camera at the location where I had vanished. General consensus was that I had fallen from a cliff into the menacing chasm below me. Some tourists screamed in horror when the dreadful news was announced to the group. In actual fact, I had simply returned to the Fairy Lake in Shambhala where Lumiel was waiting for me.

* * * *

Dublin, 12 January 2013

Oscar stared at the newspaper article on the kitchen table. The first page was covered by a photograph of the only woman he had ever loved. She was smiling, as he would always remember her. The letters of the headline were jumping out at him, stabbing at his chest and strangling his breath. His hand moved to his heart. His blood turned to ice.

CASSANDRA MORGANTE, THE SPIRITUAL LEADER AND FOUNDER OF THE TRANSFORMATION MOVEMENT, IS FEARED DEAD. SHE DISAPPEARED A WEEK AGO DURING AN EXCURSION ON MACHU PICCHU. SHE IS BELIEVED TO HAVE FALLEN DOWN A RAVINE.

The room started to spin. The hole in his heart widened until it swallowed his whole mind. Oscar was back in hell, many years before that day. He was a child at St. Anthony’s Institution. The scary old bogey man was fondling him, making him touch his flaccid member. He forced Oscar’s mouth on his genitals. The smell was disgusting. The bogeyman was revolting. But he had to do as told, or he would kill him. Oscar was paralysed by fear and shame. And then the worst thing in the world happened. He felt the most incredible pain, as if his body was being torn in two. It lasted ages. His soul was stained. His heart was broken. He would never be happy again. He would never be deserving of love again. Never.

Grown-up Oscar was back in his house. They were talking about Cassandra on the news. The feeling of hurt melted into all-pervading Light. His mind could now encompass everything at once. He was free. He was at one with the only love of his life. Circumstances might tell otherwise. He was lying on the floor in his kitchen. His chest was exploding with spasms. Weakness and despair had him rolled up like a ball, like a foetus on the cold marble tiles. His heart was finally giving up to the infinity that his mind was begging for.

“Please, my love, set me free... take me with you...”

The broadcaster’s voice kept churning out words in the background.

ANY HOPE LEFT OF FINDING CASSANDRA MORGANTE ALIVE AFTER SHE FELL FROM A CLIFF AT THE HOLY SITE OF MACHU PICCHU WERE CUT SHORT TODAY. RESCUE OPERATIONS HAD TO BE ABANDONED DUE TO THE VIOLENT STORMS IN THE AREA. HELICOPTERS CANNOT OPERATE ANY LONGER. NO BODY HAS YET BEEN RECOVERED. MEMORIAL CEREMONIES WILL BE HELD ACROSS THE WORLD THROUGHOUT NEXT WEEK.

Back in the room, the television kept showing images of his only love. Oscar turned his head slowly and looked up at the screen. Cassandra looked so dazzlingly alive, so forgiving. She had always known of his wound, and had always turned a blind eye to his darkened soul. Now she was gone forever. He had killed her with his inertia. He felt the weight of guilt compress his ribcage. Time had never been his friend. He wished he could touch her. He prayed that he could hold her just one last time. His love for her wouldn’t be in vain in the end. The pain around his heart was squeezing the Life Force out of his body. The pressure in his chest was now unbearable. Oscar wanted to be with Cassandra. He stretched out his arms as if to hug a ghost. She wasn’t there. He was alone in the depths of his desperate loneliness. The claws of those horrible memories started to grasp at his thoughts again. His life had come to a pile of dirt. Death was only welcome.

* * * *

The ambulance crew had arrived just in time to resuscitate him. Morwana had accompanied her father to the hospital, still in shock. She had found him lying in the kitchen, looking lifeless. With remarkable calm she had dialled 911 just in time. She was only thirteen and yet she had learnt to think on her feet, as kids of divorced parents often have to. Being Cassandra’s clone, she was also a Star Girl, and this tragic event would make her remember. Oscar’s heart was still weak. He had ended up in a coma following his cardiac arrest. If he were to survive, he would owe his life to his ‘daughter’. But did he still want to be alive now that Cassandra had abandoned him forever?

* * * *

Oscar reached the threshold of the Gates of Shambhala. The wound had finally left him for good. His heart was now pure. He got there effortlessly. His physical body was still attached to the ventilator on the third dimensional Earth, in the intensive care of a Dublin hospital. But his soul had finally made it back Home. Love began to pour in; he knew Cassandra was waiting behind those ivory walls.

He called out to her. Silence came as the unwelcome reply. Oscar was startled. He knew that she was there. He wanted to tell her that he was free now, that he understood the meaning of loving wholeheartedly, with no memory of the past, just the will for the best possible future. He had never managed that before, in his lifetime without her by his side.

Meta-Cassandra was sitting by the Fairy Lake gazing at her reflection in the water. She couldn’t hear Oscar’s voice. He couldn’t exist for her in Shambhala: the Masters had deleted him from her memory. Yet she felt the sweetest caress on her head, lingering on her cheek. She kept looking at her features in the stillness of the Lake. Then she sighed.

Lumiel, however, heard Oscar call his loved one with the longing patience of true love. He walked towards the gates and opened them. Oscar’s eyes lingered on Lumiel’s smile and the outline of Shambhala behind him.