Shaman, Healer, Heretic (8 page)

“Don’t touch me,” she shouted and stepped back. The welts were gone but she remembered the sparks and the pain all too well.

The kachina stopped.

“Just leave me alone,” she said, backing toward the door. “I’m not going with you.”

He advanced on her again.

“No!” she screamed.

But, within moments, he had disappeared, vanishing the same way he had before. She looked around the room and back to where he had been standing. He hadn’t left a trace.

“No,” she said under her breath. She shut her eyes and clenched her hands as she willed herself to breathe evenly. Then she remembered the phone, still in her hand.

She flipped through the pictures but kept glancing around the apartment to see if the kachina had reappeared. Finally, she found the photo and e-mailed it to SK, proof that she hadn’t been imagining things in the real world. She still didn’t know why, but at least she knew what the kachina wanted now. He wanted her.
 

LIVVY HEARD THE phone vibrate before it rang. When she checked the time on it, she groaned. Nacho stirred on her feet. Three a.m.? Who would be calling at this hour? It better not be anybody I know, she thought, and then she remembered the photo of the kachina that she had sent to SK. When she looked at the caller ID though, it was Cedars-Sinai hospital. Worried, she sat up and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Livvy?” said an unfamiliar woman’s voice.

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry for calling at this hour, but I got your name from a friend who’s seen your…work.”

It was a job. Normally that’d be great news, but not so much at this hour. Even so, she needed the work way more than she needed the sleep.

“Okay,” she said, rubbing her eyes as she waited to hear the rest.

“My husband needs your help and I’ve got cash,” said the woman.

Livvy knew that hospitals weren’t fond of visits in the middle of the night, especially from shamans. Nor were shamans fond of it either, since it made them look like they were sneaking around, which was kind of true.

“Could this wait until tomorrow?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Typically, a shaman got the call only after every other resource had been exhausted, when every other conventional and not-so-conventional form of treatment had already been tried.

“No, I don’t think so,” said the woman, pausing. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what else to do.”

“What room are you in?” said Livvy, getting up from the mattress as Nacho raised his head.

She flipped on the light switch and blinked against the bare bulbs.

“Room 349.”

ON THE THIRD floor of the east tower, Livvy followed the signs to Room 349, passing the nurse’s station, which was thankfully empty. At Room 349, the door was ajar, but she knocked quietly.

A man opened the door immediately, as though he’d been standing there waiting for her.

“I’m Livvy,” she said, but the man didn’t respond.

He was middle-aged and overweight, with tired eyes and a sullen face that stared at her.

“Diana sent for me.”

He didn’t move.

“Saul, let her in,” said a woman from inside the room.

Saul scrutinized Livvy for a few moments, lingering on her hair, but opened the door. As she passed by, he looked up and down the hallway to see if anybody had seen them, and then he closed the door.

It was a private room and it had the lived-in look that hospital rooms got when the stay was a long one. There was a blanket and pillow on the reclining chair, a hardcover novel leaning against the wall on the floor next to it, several sets of wilted flowers, a few posters of famous works of art taped to the wall, and a few get well cards.

The patient had a nasogastric feeding tube, the type that went up through the nose and then down into the throat and stomach, but he wasn’t on a ventilator. There was a urine bag hanging down at the side of the bed with liquid the color of cherry wood. He wasn’t getting enough liquids, Livvy thought, glancing at his chart and slipping into doctor mode without meaning to. She looked at the drip and thought about adjusting it but stopped herself. She was in a different world now.

Diana was on the other side of the bed, near the chair, and was holding the man’s hand.

“Is this your husband?” Livvy asked.

“This is Mitch,” she said, looking down at his face, stroking his arm.

“You said he had a heart attack and then slipped into a coma?”

“Yes, that was three weeks ago. Three weeks ago today.”

Livvy had gotten the basic medical history from her on the phone. There was no point in getting anybody’s hopes up if someone was terminally ill with cancer or they needed a bypass or a liver transplant. Other shamans didn’t seem to have a problem with taking people’s money for that kind of stuff, but Livvy couldn’t see how they lived with themselves, especially the ones who knew the client was putting off medical intervention that might help.

“I don’t think Mitch would want this,” said Saul. “He wouldn’t want that feeding tube either.”

Livvy had seen it in their body language, but now she could also hear that she’d stepped into the middle of the usual turmoil, a family torn apart at the critical time. Each side believed they were doing the right thing, what the patient would have wanted, even if they were only guessing.

“Saul,” said Diana, as though she were repeating herself for the tenth time, “It can’t hurt anything.”

He glared at Livvy, who stood waiting.

“Why don’t you just bring an exorcist over here too? Do the kids know you’re doing this?”

“Goddammit, Saul! I have to know I tried everything. Do you have any better ideas?”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t think so.” She turned to Livvy. “What should we do?”

“Not a thing,” she said, unslinging her bag. “I’m going to lay down in this chair and put on my goggles.” Saul exhaled with disgust. “It’ll look like I’m asleep, but I’m not.” He clucked. “I won’t be able to see or hear you until I’m back.”

As always, it made Livvy nervous not to have someone familiar with the shaman world watching over her.

“How long will it take?” asked Diana.

As Livvy settled into the chair, she put her pillow behind her head.

“Not long. Time here and there aren’t the same.”

The woman looked down at her husband.

“Hold on honey,” she whispered.

“Back in a bit,” said Livvy, as she flipped on the switch and put on the goggles.
 

THE MIDDLEWORLD WAS crowded, absolutely packed. Stunned, Livvy stood on the path for a moment, getting her bearings. Only yesterday it had been deserted. Now, the animal helpers and ancestor spirits were rushing around in every direction.

The clouds above were already moving toward the black lake, so Livvy didn’t delay. As the spirits and ancestors moved past her, she sensed their agitation. The air was full of birdcalls, howling monkeys, and roars and growls of every type. The faces of the ancestors were worried and nobody headed toward the lake–except for her. By the time she was at the shore, the crowd was far behind.

Down through the lake and then out of the fountain, she was prepared for a hard landing but it was much easier than last time. As deserted as the Middleworld had been earlier, the Underworld was nearly empty. Even in the central plaza there was hardly a soul. What was going on lately? Every time she came to the Multiverse, it was different somehow.

As she gazed upward, the clouds streamed away from her, down the main thoroughfare. Uneasy about the changes she had seen, she decided to start off at a fairly good run.

The main street was flanked by enormous high rises whose tops were clipped by the clouds. As she watched the clouds traveling through the sky, the buildings seemed to be leaning toward her, a trick of perspective, but one that almost always left her queasy. Today, though, she was in too much of a hurry to notice. A large grizzly bear lumbered down the middle of the street in the opposite direction, heading toward the plaza.

She reached an area where the density of the high rises gave way to smaller buildings that had an older look, like an original downtown area but more industrial. Up above, the clouds had frozen.

“X marks the spot,” she said.

The large panes of dirty glass that made up the wall in front of her spoke of a roomy interior with high ceilings. There had to be more than one floor inside but the exterior seemed like endless rows of windows.

A movement along the roofline caught her eye. There was a small figure there, a man wearing a hospital gown.

“Mitch?” she yelled.

He looked down at her.

“Mitch,” she repeated, waving. “Diana sent me. I’m here to help you.”

He backed away from the edge and out of view.

“It’s all right,” yelled Livvy. “Just wait right there.”

She ran to the front of the building and pushed through the revolving glass doors. Ignoring the open elevators, she found the stairs and ran up, two at a time, past the top floor, following a sign that said roof access. She burst onto the roof and skidded to a halt in the gravel. Mitch was perched on the lip of the building, looking down. He turned around when he heard her.

“Mitch?” Livvy ventured. “Mitch, what are you doing up there?”

He smiled.

“I’m not going back,” he said.

Oh please
, thought Livvy. Why didn’t anybody ever tell the truth, give her all the information she’d need.

“Diana sent me,” Livvy said, moving closer. “She’s trying everything she can to save you.”

“Screw her,” he said.

“Mitch, if you stay here, your body will die.” She moved closer. “You’ll be dead.”

“Dead ain’t so bad,” he said, grinning.

“Oh, this isn’t dead,” she said, forcing a laugh and taking another step. “Oh no. What made you think that?”

His grin vanished and he looked around and down the side of the building. A flock of crows soared by above them.

“If you were dead,” she said, almost within grasping distance, “I wouldn’t be here.” He looked back at her. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Where do you go when you’re dead then?” he asked.

He was worried now.

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” she tossed off casually, as she lunged for him.

She caught him by the arm and yanked him backward, sending them both sprawling on the gravel, but he wasn’t struggling. He just lay there as she got up.

She looked down at him but suddenly had the distinct impression that they were being watched. She spun around and saw someone across the street, on the building top opposite her–the kachina. She turned back to Mitch, who hadn’t moved.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said, reaching down a hand. “Maybe you want to rethink this whole dying thing.”

He looked up at her and she watched his eyes drift up to the frozen clouds behind her and then back to her. A chilly wind whipped around them, making him clutch his thin cotton gown. He looked at her outstretched hand and took it.
 

IN THE REAL world, Mitch slowly opened his eyes.

“Oh my God,” said Diana, not believing what she was seeing.

His head didn’t move, but Mitch’s eyes shifted lazily to look at her.

“Mitch, honey, can you hear me?”

He slowly closed his eyes again.

“Mitch,” said Saul. “Can you hear me?”

Mitch opened his eyes again and focused on Saul.

“Hey,” said Saul, bending down closer. “We thought you were a goner.”

Mitch made a grunting sound.

Livvy took off her goggles and sat up. She reached down to her bag for the bottle of water. Diana turned around to her.

“I can’t believe you really did it.”

Before Livvy could answer, the door to the room opened. The night nurse came in and was startled to see everybody. She was ready to ignore them all, as usual, but when Mitch looked at her, she realized he was no longer in a coma.

“Why didn’t somebody call me?” she asked, angry.

The nurse went over to the monitors and started punching buttons, making the machine squeal occasionally. Mitch grimaced at the noise.

“Our shaman managed to do more than all of you people in this building put together,” said Diana.

Oops
, Livvy thought.
Time to go.

“Shaman?” the nurse yelled, glaring at Livvy, who was stowing the water and other gear. “If she touched him or gave him anything, we’re not responsible.”

Livvy stood up, unsteady, but sensing that leaving time was now.

She said quietly to Diana, “We agreed on a set fee.”

“Of course, dear,” she said, going over to her purse at the sink.

“I don’t believe this,” huffed the nurse, storming out.