Talking to Kundalini

When I got to school, Kundalini was speaking with a small group of students. There was someone from nearly all the clicks, yet they didn't seem to mind being seen together. Then they left and Kundalini approached me. Today she was wearing a dark brown skirt and a tan, cap sleeved, shirt. Her feet were bare and her hair still tied in its braid.

"Morning, Asahel," she greeted me.

"Morning," I replied.

"You seem troubled. What's on your mind?"

"Was I dreaming? Or were you really at the lake yesterday?"

"What you saw was real, Asahel."

"How?" I looked into her eyes. They were gray, slightly darker than her silver hair. They had a pull to them.

Kundalini set a hand on my arm and the pull stopped, placing me back in the hall where we stood.

"You have seen part of the real me. Many do not accept it."

"So, are you wondering if I will accept you or not?"

"Whether you accept me or not doesn't matter to me. If you accept me, you are the one it will have the greatest effect on."

I nodded though still not quiet understanding what she meant as I studied her face. There were no acne scars, no blemishes. The only thing that seemed out of place for her was the tattoo on her tailbone. "Kundalini?" I asked. "What is your tattoo of?"

"It's not a tattoo. It's a birthmark."

"Birthmark?"

"Yes, and another piece of who I am."

"It reminded me of something."

"Tree roots," she replied.

The bell rang before I could ask my next question and she left for class. I followed her and sat next to her, puzzling out how everything I had seen could amount to who Kundalini was. During class I drew the lake and the thoughtful expression she had had on her face when she turned to me. Her eyes held a knowing I did not understand. There was something about me she knew, but what? My notebook was covered by my textbook and I looked up. Kundalini had moved it and pointed to a paragraph.

"Asahel," the substitute, Mr. Thompson, said. "Would you care to read the next section for the class?"

"Sure."

The passage was on harmony and the theory that had brought about its creation. After I read it, I was asked to participate more. So I left my drawing of Kundalini unfinished. We had Choir together after that, but I was barely able to keep my thoughts on the songs. Kundalini's voice blended well with the sopranos and I couldn't pick her out like I could some of the others.

She was one of the first to leave at lunch time, and I figured she would have gone to the trees. But I couldn't find her. She wasn't with any of the groups. Where would she have gone? I didn't eat much. I wanted to find her because there were still so many questions I had for her. I wanted to understand more about this strange side of her. Photography was our class after lunch, but she wasn't there. Had she gotten sick?

If so, it seemed to come on quickly. Was it because of her exposure to the elements on Mt. Rainier? No, she seemed stronger than that. As I pondered about her, I set up my shoebox for our next photo assignment before going back to my drawing of her thoughtful expression. In Human Biology, I hardly listened as I finished my drawing. Once the final bell rang, I returned to the trees where I had first found Kundalini. I wanted to recall what I had seen that day.

But when I got there, Kundalini knelt in the center. Her hands were over her heart this time and tears ran down her cheeks.

"Kundalini," I asked. "What are you doing out here?"

She didn't respond.

"Kundalini." I touched her face and she only looked at me for a moment. "What's wrong?"

Kundalini curled on herself and I could see a small bulge under her skirt close to her tailbone.

"What is it?"

She took a deep breath and the bulge disappeared. "Tree roots," she said softly.

"Is your birthmark inflamed?"

"No."

"Silver!" a woman called.

Kundalini stood slowly and left the trees. Her arms crossed her chest, leaving the disturbed dirt behind her as she had the first time. I turned enough to see the car drive away before turning back to the soil. There were three distinct holes. I traced each one, the soil feeling warmer than it had the first time, as my fingers felt around the edges, the dirt collapsed the holes, much as the soil did after a tree was rooted up.

Had Kundalini made these holes? How? 'Tree roots.' Her birthmark? That wasn't possible. There was no way her birthmark could become actual tree roots. Or was it? She had danced in flame without getting burned. I was still thinking about it when my friends Mike and Rose found me, needing a ride home. I smoothed over the disturbed dirt and chills ran down my spine. Then I shouldered my book bag and drove my friends home.

When I arrived at home, I dropped my bag on the floor and lay on my bed. I felt exhausted and fell asleep. I woke when my mom called me for dinner. I ate with them though they didn't ask about my day. Then I returned to my room, curled into a tight ball under my blankets and went back to sleep.

Bright sunshine came through my window when I woke again. I looked at my alarm clock. 1pm. Sighing, I covered my eyes. What had just happened? I wasn't getting sick, because when I got sick I never slept well. Rolling to my back, I felt gritty. Like I had been playing in the sand and didn't wash it off. A shower sounded nice.

Getting up, the floor felt warmer beneath my feet as I entered the bathroom. I turned on the water as hot as I could stand it then got under the stream. It felt good as I let the water wash over every part of my body. I stayed there until the water started to cool. Then I got out. I redressed in warm clothes, all black. On my desk sat my notebook with the picture of Kundalini in it. Her eyes drew me in again.

She had known something at the lake, something about me. But what? I pulled out our school phone directory and looked for her. I searched for her full name but didn't find it. Scanning through the S section once more. There was a Silver listed, but no phone number. Just my luck. I left my room long enough to warm some Chicken Noodle soup and ate it with lots of Saltine crackers.

While I was eating the school's automated attendance system called the house. I would need to have my mom sign a note for me. Missing school was a drag. It meant more homework and less time to have it done right before it was due. The rest of my afternoon was working on the reading assignments for many of my classes. Pre-calculus was still a drag and for some reason, I could not get my mind to focus on the numbers. At seven I was hungry again. I ate the leftovers then left the note of excuse on the table for my mom to sign before going to bed.

I woke early the next morning with a small headache, but overall felt much better. Mom had signed the note with a heart and I rolled my eyes. I grabbed an apple and left for school. When I entered pre-calc, Kundalini was lying on her desk with her face buried behind her folded arms. I placed a hand on one of her shoulders and she moved from my touch. Kundalini was dressed in all black today. Her sleeves were long and her skirt long enough to hide her bare feet.

"Kundalini, are you feeling alright?" I asked.

She shook her head slightly.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Again she shook her head.