What kind of sins did I commit for karma to hit me like this?
My journey to Melbourne ended up being a sad affair of tears, nose blowing, and moans of despair.
I jumped off the plane the instant the door opened and sought a phone like a newborn seeks air after the slap.
I dialed his number. It didn't work. The wretched phone kept on swallowing coins like a black hole until I ran out of Australian change. I shoved my credit card down its throat. Exasperated, I finally managed to get hold of an operator and had her connect me to Gabe's home number.
The connection rang and rang until the machine picked up. No answer. Merda! I was about to leave a message when-dear heaven, if his voice didn't answer.
"Hey, luv! Where're you calling from?" he said, his voice sounding surprised and strong.
"Melbourne. I just landed and have a couple of hours to wait around for my connection to LA," I whispered, leaning my forehead against the cold metal of the phone box.
"I'm glad you rang. Are you OK?"
Tears welled up in my eyes. "I miss you, and I got really upset on the plane, leaving you like that and all."
"I know. It was hard." I heard him take a deep breath. "I miss you already, and I wish I could have you back here, never to leave my side." His voice faded behind the mad thumping of my heart. I panicked, afraid it would drown out his words with its furious drumming.
"Porzia, if you tell me to, I'll have a ticket for you to get back here instead of going home, waiting for you at the Qantas counter in fifteen minutes. Just say the word."
Is that what I wanted?
Yes! Yes! You idiot! my heart screamed, almost giving itself a stroke, killing me right then and there. I wondered about Australian funerals. I saw hopping kangaroos carrying my casket in the shadow of Ayers Rock with a blazing sunset behind the imposing, ancient monolith casting the surroundings in a deep, red glow.
Did they still burn witches in this country? I took a deep breath. "Gabe? Do you know how tempting that sounds? Thank you so much for even thinking of such a sweet gesture. I'd love to be able to with all my heart, but there are things that need tending to, and I am needed back home."
"I know. But I'll be damned if I care about responsibilities right now, Porzia, luv. You're still so bloody close I can taste you. And the thought of you getting farther away by the minute drives me bloody mad. I know you need to go back and take care of all you've got planned and that we'll see each other soon enough, but still I can't help wanting you back. You just have to leap, and I'll catch you, luv."
I held on to his strong voice.
I swept my head back, taking in the foreign, aseptic surroundings of the airport. A river of strangers coursed around me, an unraveling of unfamiliar smells, colors, and vibrations. "That's not the kind of leaping I'm struggling with," I whispered, closing my eyes. "Gabe, you're gonna have to tell me to be strong, and you're gonna have to be strong for both of us right now." I began to cry. "Because I can't." Oh, merda!
"We'll be there soon, luv," I heard him answer softly. "Hang in there, and we're gonna be fine, Porzia."
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and swallowed hard, choking back a tidal wave of tears. "I'll call you once I get home to let you know I've made it alright."
"Please, I won't be able to sit still until I know you've made it."
"OK, then-"
"Have a safe flight and remember everything, Porzia. Don't let distance dilute our present."
"I won't," I snuffled. "I have my multicolored shadow following me," I said, remembering his words. I heard him laugh softly.
"It's not as colored as I could have made it with a little more time."
I felt myself blush. I smiled, lifting my head, and opened my eyes, remembering where I was. Melbourne. Airport. People. Civilization. Clock. Ticking. Next connection.
"I need to get going, Gabe."
"OK, luv."
"I'll talk to you soon."
"I'll be here." His loving words revived my spirit.
My hands shook as I hung up. I looked for my shadow. It was right where it was supposed to be, stretched and angled at the waist, along the near wall. I stood still for a few moments almost expecting it to wave at me. Finally, I grabbed my carry-on bag and went looking for presents for Benedetta and Evalena. While I shopped for a boomerang, my mind whirred.
I can handle the magic of putting ingredients together and making a dish by following a recipe. Even Madame Framboise had tapped into that one. But I'm not used to abstract, esoteric forces. I'm not sure how to go at embracing them. So how the hell did I end up falling in love with a former Australian racer who shared lifetimes with gods and shadows of mysterious entities? He made love to me like he was tracing his own words along my pages, touching my inner core with the flame of his soul igniting mine.
*
I ended up with a boomerang, a hand-painted reproduction of a David Malangi Daymirringu painting of Dhamala, Catfish and Brown Snake, tea tree oil and soap, and sheepskin slippers for Benedetta, having remembered that her last pair had been stolen and probably buried by her Doberman in her back yard.
Laden with the goods, I looked like the typical American tourist boarding the plane. At least my eyes were finally dry.
Mercifully, I fell asleep, my last thought trapped between my crossed fingers as I wished for answers.
*
"When your own Dreamtime erupts," he had said.
*
Part of me-most definitely the French part-screamed at full volume that it was about time, and woke me up just as the pilot performed a landing as smooth as a perfect béchamel sauce. Although jet lag most definitely ruled my body, I lit up when I saw Benedetta stretching her neck like E.T. trying to see through an unexpectedly large crowd for such a late hour.
She shot me a huge grin and blinked twice behind her gold-rimmed glasses. "You look like something I'd flush after a binge on Mexican food," she said, hugging me.
"Nice to see you too." I returned the hug and planted a loud kiss on her cheek.
"Yeah? Stop the smooching." She pulled away, straightening her glasses. "People might think we like each other." She flashed a look that meant she didn't give a fig what people thought, she was just embarrassed by my affectionate display.
"Did you have a good time?" she asked, grabbing some of my shopping bags and poking through them. "What did you bring me?"
"Siii. I did," I replied dreamily. I clutched my laptop carry-on bag to my chest as we walked toward the luggage carousel.
"Oh, oh, oh! What's his name?"
I just smiled at her while the carousel burped luggage. I found my bag, swung it off the conveyor belt, and gave Bene a look that said, "Can't talk now, my hands are full."
Prancing around like an overjoyed puppy, she followed me outside and did her best at trying to coax the information out of me.
"Oh, come on now-"
"Let's get in the car, and I'll tell you all about it." The muggy Florida air hit me like a shower. I shed my sweater; I was way overdressed for such weather but bare skin would not have cut it either.
She found her car, deftly loaded my bags, unlocked the passenger door, and ran to the driver's side. We sped out of the airport parking lot merging into an almost deserted late-night highway.
What a difference. I had been gone only a week, and it felt like an eternity. The magic of flying and being catapulted to the other side of the world in just over the length of a day; it would never cease to fascinate me.
"So? I'm all ears," Benedetta demanded.
I reached over and vigorously twisted her right ear. "That you are."
"Ahia! That hurts!" She swatted at my hand, and the car swerved.
I forgot that it's dangerous to interfere while she's driving. I took my hand back and turned to look out the window.
"Gabe Miller."
"Wow! Sexy name! Sounds like something out of a sassy novel."
"He looks like he ought to be on the cover of one," I said.
"Maybe I read that one." She frowned. "His name sounds familiar. Hang on-" She turned her right signal on and sharply left Highway 110 behind. At the traffic light she realized she was in the wrong lane to turn right off the ramp and cursed in Italian under her breath.
Her hands fluttered at the traffic light and the general surroundings. "I hate this spot," she said.
Suddenly, two deep parallel tracks, respectively named incredulous and suspicious, creased her forehead. "Gabe Miller? Porzia?"
I nodded.
Her mouth opened, she blinked twice, and soundlessly, her mouth closed.
Somebody behind us honked.
She woke up from her stupor, shifted gears, startled the rearview mirror into life cursing the mother of the driver behind us in Italian, and cleared out of the intersection.
"The Gabe Miller?" she asked once she found her voice. We were almost at my place by then.
"Which one are you referring to, Bene-?" I tried to stifle a yawn but failed.
"How many Australians named Gabe Miller are there?" she asked.
"I didn't say he was Australian."
"You're exasperating me." She turned to look at me. "Is he that particular one or is he not?"
"He is."
She whistled softly. "He won the Paris¨CDakar."
"Twice."
"No shit!" She gripped her steering wheel with a little more pride. "You're right!" For no apparent reason she jammed on the brakes, and I just about collided with the dashboard. Her ancient seatbelt stretched like worn-out chewing gum.
"How do you know so much about off-road racing?" I was impressed by the fact that she had recognized the name when I had not.
"I don't really know that much, but a guy I dated in college was really into racing and that was big news back then. I heard him talk once, on TV," she said dreamily. I knew what she meant.
"I know. He's got a great voice." I started thinking of all the other great things he was. I shook my head. "How's Peridot?" I asked.
"He's a sweetie," Benedetta smiled. "You'll see for yourself. I told him you were coming."
"You talk to him?" My eyebrows shot up.
"Don't you?" She cast a surprised glance at me.
The speed bumps of my driveway stirred my dormant brain marbles back into action. I would have hit my head on the car roof if it weren't for the fact that with Benedetta driving, I hung on to the seat with both hands.
"Welcome home!" She smiled, screeching the car to a stop beneath my windows. Gingerly hopping around, she grabbed all the shopping bags and left the carry-on for me. Despite everything, it's always nice to feel welcomed home where there are familiar surroundings and belongings.
I left Gabe less than a day ago. I glanced at my watch and mentally tried to compare Australian and Floridian time. I needed to give it a rest-at least long enough for me to get inside and get some sleep.
*
Peridot jumped off his bed by the sofa and ran to greet me. Purring loudly, he coiled himself around my legs and sniffed my sneakers. He was ecstatic to see me. After dumping the bags, I grabbed my cat and greet him properly. Peridot rubbed his nose against my chin and couldn't stop purring, kneading my shoulder with his strong tiger paws. I almost felt like purring myself, his joy felt so contagious. Crazy to think how much a tiny animal can influence one's moods, I thought. Carrying Peridot, I looked around and noticed fresh flowers on the kitchen counter and new candles scattered around. The place looked great, clean and neat.
"Bene, you did a fantastic job. My herbs are thriving!" I walked with Peridot still in my arms to the bathroom windowsill to sniff at the oregano box I keep there.
"No big deal. It was clean to begin with." She shrugged. "I just had to keep it."
Peridot started munching on some of the tender leaves but stopped as soon as the pungent flavor reached his taste buds. He looked funny, making faces as he tried to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth.
"I'd love to stay and grill you about the details of your trip," Benedetta said, jingling her car keys, "but it's indecent timing, and you need to rest." She pranced to hug me. "Call me if you need anything when you wake up tomorrow."
"I will. Thanks for everything." I returned her hug, squishing the cat between us.
I walked her to the door and waited on my threshold until her car bounced out of the parking lot. I closed my front door behind me and let Peridot down as I headed for the bathroom to quickly freshen up. Exhausted, I grabbed a pair of short pajamas and climbed into bed to call Gabe, struggling to mentally calculate the time difference once again. I tried his home first.
The first ring came and went, echoing in my ears; the second came and went, chipping a couple of my heartbeats away. He answered right in the middle of the third ring, settling my heart.
"Hi, it's me," I said, crushing pillows, releasing the familiar scent of my laundry detergent. Peridot jumped on the bed purring and sniffed my feet.
"Porzia. How you going? Did you have a good trip?" His voice sounded like he was right around the corner.
"Well, I was extremely upset about leaving you, but the planes were mostly empty all the way back here, so I managed to churn myself into sleep."
"Great, so you didn't meet any great-looking Aussies this time?" he asked, laughing.
"No. Nobody asked me to hold their hands," I teased.
"You sound tired."
"I am, and my cat is biting my toes," I said, pulling my feet away from Peridot.
"Smart cat," he answered in a sexy voice.
I laughed and blushed, remembering his nibbling.
"How about you get some sleep, and I'll ring you tomorrow sometime?"
"Sounds good." I slid deeper under the sheets.
"Thanks for letting me know you got there all roight. It's a long trip."
"I know, tell me about it." I yawned, almost locking my jaw wide open. Oddio! I was tired.
"OK, get some rest, luv."
"Goodnight. I miss you," I whispered.
"I miss you too. Bye."
I hung up with his voice still warm in my ears and pulled the sheets almost all the way up to my head. I fell asleep with Peridot purring contentedly at my now covered feet.