A Mind is a Terrible Thing

Ariana Johns

October 2005

So there it was, the entire rain of her life, splattered all over the hallway, smeared down a path that led nowhere. She reached for a glass of water, but she didn’t move. Every action she took was checked and deleted by her body, just like when she used to dream, and she’d try to wake up--she’d get up, again and again, while her corporeal body lay still. Alana took a deep breath and felt her lungs fill, assuring her that she was in fact living. She would have to move somehow... she had to clean up, put things in order.

Jessica had been wearing pink this morning, shimmering around the house, a beautiful laughing ghost. Alana revered her, but then that’s why Jessica wore pink–to show off, to tug at her sister’s stomach, making Alana feel cold and dizzy. It worked, as always, and Lani had run from the living room into the relative safety of the bathroom. Jessie didn’t like to be anywhere near the bathtub, so Alana could lean against its cool side and feel safe from the machinations of her sister. The tiles on the floor were pale green and yellow, and as Lani counted them yet one more time, she twisted her hair around her finger, then sucked on a pale strand. Jessica sang loudly as she stood outside the bathroom window, a twirling tune with no melody, no beginning or end. It was always that way with Jessie, ever since they were children...

It had been a lovely childhood. Lani and Jessie were both adorable little girls, with pets and a pretty yard and a mother that devoted herself to them. Erica Von Mallich did very little else but tend to her garden and her girls. Watching things grow and knowing that they were hers, hers alone and no one else’s was the one thing that kept her going. Consequently, both the garden and the girls needed constant tending, and Erica built her walls high and strong. The Von Mallich estate and its contents were the cause of much speculation and more than a little consternation.

Erica was strong, a formidable presence, and she excelled at most things. Useful things, that she taught her daughters. Cooking, gardening, ritual magik, Santeria, tarot and weather forecasting. The girls each had their fortes--Lani was a gifted witch and gardener, while Jessie was physically dexterous and markedly beautiful, which seemed to lure a delicate madness to her, making her all the more resplendent. The three of them had lived graciously together, supportive and loving, until Erica disappeared one Friday morning, after going out to buy the moon’s provisions. In truth, she felt that since her daughters were now twenty-five and twenty-nine, it behooved her to find a man for them, but telling the girls would alarm them, so she quested solo, under the presumption that abandonment would strengthen their characters.

Nine moons had filled since that morning, and Jessica had died three moons and four nights ago, leaving Alana without a moment’s peace. She had tried to bury Jessie’s body, but Jessie possessed a visceral ghost and she would dig her body up every time, then hide it so Alana would find it again and again, at the most inopportune moments. Eventually they reached a compromise, and Jessica’s body was now draped gracefully over her favourite divan, free to take in the elements and do what came naturally, or not. Unfortunately, with that game finished, Jessie was more restless than ever. Not that being dead didn’t have its own rewards–like anything else, it was what you made it. But Erica had put such a strong force around the house that not even Jessie’s anxious spirit could leave. So she had only her sister to play with, and it was increasingly difficult to make Alana take heed.

In fact, Lani was so corporeally weak from lack of food–the provisions had run out some time ago, leaving only the lime tree and a few small lizards for sustenance–it was all she could do to walk and breathe in her physical body, without allowing her astral self to take over entirely. And that was her battle now, as she lay on the cool bathroom floor, with Jessica’s demented rhapsodies filling the air she was trying to breathe. If she were to inhale her sister’s songs, she too could become mad, and someone had to tend to the house until Erica returned.

The house itself was hardly behaving well. Toys the girls had played with as children were scattered about the halls, despite having been burned long ago. When Alana would pick them up to discard them, they complained bitterly and wriggled free from her grasp, falling back into chaotic piles of past. It was time to delve deep into magik, to find a sensible solution to what was rapidly becoming an untenable situation, but finding a peaceful spot to begin was proving to be an enormous challenge.

Alana crawled into the bathtub, contorted her body into the same position she had first found her sister’s corpse in, and turned her head toward the window. Jessie was gone, the air refreshingly free of music. Lani took a deep breath and closed her eyes. As her body numbed, she found herself facing a steep rocky incline. She reached one arm out, then the next, feeling the familiar pop as she left her frail, crumpled body and began the treacherous climb. She had yet to make it to the top, and she was certain that if she could, she would be able to find the path, to discern the key to releasing Jessica and perhaps even gain the insight to solve her own dilemma.

She grabbed a handful of dry weeds, wedged her feet as deep into the cliff as she could, and began her ascent. Handful after handful of stubborn weeds pulled her slowly up, till soon she encountered the valley of purple flowers. She’d made it this far before, and assumed that the rest of the climb would be easy, that the fecundity of the purple plateau would soothe her scratched belly, give her torn hands and knees momentary respite. Even now, the option of rest was seductive, but every time she’d tried to make it through the field, its heavy floral scent pulled her under–quicksand from Oz–and she’d awaken the next day drained and aching in her porcelain bed. This time she exhaled all the air from her raw lungs and pressed her belly tight against the dry, harsh mountain. Opening her eyes wide into the arid dust, she strained her vision upward and held her breath until she floated up, away from the ground, and with her attention focused at the summit, she glided gingerly above the exquisite venom of the valley and ascended to the peak of the mountain.

At the top, she inhaled deeply and looked at her surroundings. Gazing breathless in a circle, her bones quickly shrank, feathers sprouted from her skin, and her vision intensified as she took flight just above the trees, her falcon-self fully realized for the first time. Ignoring the tempting scent of prey, she focused through the leaves into the dense forest, intent upon following the guidance of the wind.

Soon a clearing became apparent, and she alighted on a branch to watch. There it was, the entire rain of her life, splattered all over the hallway, smeared down a path that led...somewhere. Floating down to the forest floor, she shifted to her cat-self and padded softly down the trail. Everything she’d ever known, thought, or dreamed recapitulated itself around her, but she kept her focus straight ahead, and soon Alana stood at a door. Her astral body now human-shaped, she stared at the large wooden door that loomed in front of her. Knobless as it was, there seemed no way to open it, so she determined that if she were to concentrate her will, she could walk effortlessly through the heavy oak. This assumption proved incorrect, and as she fell back from the collision, strong arms caught her and gently turned her around.

Erica Von Mallich laughed heartily at her daughter’s expense, then she tilted Lani’s head up and kissed her bruised nose.

"Darling, I’m so happy that you finally arrived." She held Alana’s slender waist and looked her over. "You look well," she said, nodding her approval.

Alana felt a rush of emotion so overwhelming she could barely sort it out. "I...mom, I’m starving, and Jessie..." she burst into tears then, and Erica stroked her hair as she held her.

"I know, angel, it’s okay. Jessie will be happy here with me, and you’ll be fine. But you must bury her one more time, and place this over her heart. She’ll stay in the ground, and her spirit will be free." She handed Alana a most unusual stone–odd not for its colour or texture, but for its shape, which kept changing, making it difficult to hold. "It will calm down when it’s on her body," Erica said as she turned away.

"Wait! Mom, I can’t–I’m staying here with you. My body’s a mess, and I can’t go back to that house, it’s sapping my sanity! And I don’t want to be alone–I miss you, and I won’t go back, I won’t!" She felt like–and had become–a little girl, literally tugging at her mother’s skirt. Erica bent down and took her daughter’s small hands.

"You’ll see me again, and Jessica too. And don’t worry, you won’t be alone. I found a beautiful boy for you, but you have to be a big girl now." She pulled Alana back into her thirty-year old self, and turned her so she was once again facing the door. "This time, just knock. He’ll answer and you’ll be home. He’ll help you recover your strength, and the house will behave. In fact, soon you’ll be able to leave it, if that’s what you want. Now go, and walk in beauty. I love you, my darling."

Alana stood alone in front of the door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

Ariana Johns has had her writing published in various online and print magazines, including barcid homily, L.A. Splash, Samsara, Candlestones, and Caffeine. A NYC native, she currently resides in Venice, California with Spider and Greg.