Matruska covers my hand with her own, an aloof November moon beaming full and indifferent.
“Let me see what I can bring forth,” she says, closing her eyes.
Time passes slowly as I wait, beginning to chill from the night. Her face looks pained and her brow furrowed as she speaks.
“You have a dark anguish of absence, having to do with a child, a son. He is waiting, wanting to come into your life but can not come through the man you knew as your husband. It is not possible.”
“So,” I interrupt. “I do have a husband! You can see him?” My heart throbs with excitement, an elation I have not felt.
Matruska is slow to continue as if pulling information from the stars that are just now coming out.
“I see the shadow of a man alone who grieves from the bottom of his soul, believing you are dead. He is lost now, moving from place to place without purpose.”
“Please,” I beg, grasping her hand. “What else can you see?”
Matruska quiets herself again, waiting for images.
“I see another man, a traveller, who enters your body to bring forth a son, then walks away, which is as it should be.”
I am put off by her suggestion, finding it crude and impossible.
“Do you not comprehend? I seek my husband. What can I do to find my husband? Please use your sight for that. If I am married surely our love would flow into one another to create a child. How can you suggest I leave his bed?”
Matruska’s mood darkens. “Let me become your ally, Maya. You must calm yourself and listen with an open spirit. Seeing into the future, into someone’s heart and mind requires being truthful. What is seen may not be to your liking, but must be said. Please, child, I can only help if you allow me to.”
I am heated and tense. “Then help!”
“There is no leaving what is not there,” she challenges, referring to my husband’s bed. Now! Listen to me carefully. On the first day of May there is purification on the mountains and hillsides. Cattle will be driven between bonfires to bring us luck. At that time the triple Goddess will be near the earth; maiden, mother, crone. It is her medicine you need to mend what is broken, until then you must wait. Spring and Beltane will bring clarity and gifts.
I get up, wrapping my shawl around me, wishing for Angelina and Marko to take me away. Being with this woman is suddenly too much. I feel exhausted, too opened and much too seen.
As I make my way back to the house, there is a stirring deep within, another remembering making me dizzy. I drop to the earth, shaken, holding back tears, feeling the touch of Matruska’s hand upon my shoulder.
“Forceful energies are moving through you, Maya. Do not try to stop them.”
I am angry. “It’s too much,” I protest. “I want them to stop!”
The face of a young boy enters my vision as I stagger to my feet. It is a face I know, a face from a dream, his body glowing, eyes overflowing with light. I look at him, finding myself in his eyes.
“Mother,” he whispers, before the image fades, and I know I must do it. I must give him life, whatever the cost.