Excerpt: Untitled

There were sounds coming from the ceiling; a woman’s soft voice singing a Hindu mantra, broken intermittently by a short, sharp male grunt – “Ehn!” –and the deep voice mumbling, chanting, sometimes joining in the song.

Through the wall came video game music and endless clicking.

I sat up, feeling around the floor next to my mattress. The room was just a pale purple blur with spots of color scattered across the carpeting and the vulnerable sensation of this vague world was uncomfortable. I tried searching on top of my suitcase and knocked over a mug, spilling a small amount of cold, murky medicinal tea. Finding my glasses, I returned my world to normal and focused my eyes on the small digital clock on the floor. 10:46am.

It was unusual for Will to be awake at this time. His grandfather would be leaving soon, and these morning and early afternoon hours served as sleeping time for the rest of the household. Curious, I dressed and went to investigate.

The basement used to be rented out as an apartment by previous owners. My little boxlike space was nestled inside of my boyfriend’s room, which had probably served as a living room. It had translated itself well into a young man’s habitat. The floor space was empty save for a small round table and a couple chairs. There were short bookshelves along the walls with assorted DVDs and anime collections, comics, translated foreign books, figurines and stacks of papers. A television sat on a rolling stand with several gaming consoles tucked on the shelves beneath, and next to that were two desks in the far corner from me. Sitting at the right desk typing away at a Mac 0S X was Will.

“Morning,” I said as I approached, pausing before reaching him to wait for a telltale response.

“Morning.” The voice was stern, straightforward, deeper than normal. Not Will.
The other computer, mine for borrowing, buzzed into waking life at the flip of a switch. “Hello, Bala.”

Glancing at Will’s screen, I could see he was on a gaming forum and had a chat window minimized. We had originally met on that same chat about four months prior and it still felt surreal to watch him on it, like seeing through the other side of the glass or learning what bowl your favorite actor preferred to eat his cereal from.

I checked my email, what little there was of it, and the daily litany of news sites and web comics. Not in the mood for the chatroom, which wouldn’t have many of the people I knew online at this time of day anyhow, I decided to try initiating a conversation with Bala.

“How are you doing today?”

A nod. “Fine. Working right now.”

“How much longer?”

After a pause, “Ten minutes.”

Out of curiosity, I asked, “Who else is around?”

“Rowan is on patrol. Spekkio left with K.R.” It was an inner-circle nickname for the Teacher used particularly by the Devas.

Glancing around the room, as if I might have spontaneously developed psychic sight, I felt another twinge of doubt. Antsy and wanting attention, I sighed lingeringly, “I guess I’ll take a walk.”

“You’re not centered. You should meditate.” Bala looked at me briefly through Will’s eyes, strikingly.

Feeling contrary, I flopped myself heavily onto his mattress and picked up a Hindu comic book laying on the floor within reach. Flipping through the pages, I discontentedly listened to the clicking of his keyboard.

Hearing the chanting from upstairs end, I grew a little more anxious and tried to focus on the comic for distraction. Though I didn’t want to just sit around here being ignored, I had to stay in the basement to avoid the morning frenzy.

Though my eyes scanned the pages and my mind recited, my ears were really in charge. They listened attentively to the sounds of the world outside the musty little studio.

Footsteps, one heavy and slow, one light, one quick. The quick one was in the kitchen just up the stairs. I could smell fresh rice and heard her rummaging in the pantry, which meant she was running late.

The heavy steps made their way to the bathroom upstairs with an occasional violent “ehn!” while the light feet were running around the room just above, tidying up from the morning’s prayers and packing up the Teacher’s suitcase for work.

“Whatcha up to, Will?” I asked.

He shrugged, “Not much, no one’s online. Just have to busy myself while Bala works.”

His own voice was relaxed, though his posture remained unmistakably that of the warrior Deva.

The Teacher, Will’s grandfather, was in the kitchen now. His voice, accented from a childhood in Indonesia and several years in Holland, was louder and more distinct, pressed with the urgency of leaving on time. His wife was late packing his lunch and he told her so. “You are always doing this! This is your shadow, Luna, you are blind to it.”

“Oh, I’m almost done,” she replied in her calm British way.

“Emily!” the Teacher barked, “Emily! Wake up!”

I jolted onto my feet and tripped up the stairs. Pushing open the tri-fold door into the kitchen, I found the Teacher already sitting at his chair right in front of me.

“Go get Will.”

Before I had the chance to go back downstairs, Bala called up, “I need him here right now, K.R.”

Hearing this, the Teacher made a grunt of acknowledgment, then gestured towards the sitting room. “My shoes!”

Scrambling into the cluttered space, I kneeled down and pulled out his shoes from under the coffee table stacked with folded clothing. I was nervous, because I hated making mistakes around him.

K.R. took them from me and started putting them on. “Go help Luna.”

Looking at Luna with an unsure expression, I maneuvered past him in the tight space and stood awkwardly in front of the stove awaiting direction. This was often uncomfortable, because Luna was not accustomed to having someone else in her kitchen and I constantly worried she may take it as an affront to her competency. Fortunately, she was generous. The toaster popped out two pieces and she pointed at them. “Get those, dear. Butter is in the microwave.”

Getting together the materials on an unused corner of the counter, I spread the softened butter on the toast, aware of the both of them in the room and feeling shy.

“Emily, don’t be cheap,” the Teacher admonished, so I added a thicker layer of butter, and was liberal with the sugar.

Luna packed up his lunch and started doling out vitamins into a small soy sauce dish, while the Teacher quickly ate his breakfast and put on his wrist watch. Light steps descended the stairs from the tri-level’s upper hall, and a willowy middle-aged woman carrying a suitcase entered the kitchen. She set it down beside him and pulled up a stool for herself. This was my cue to start the hot pot and pull out a mug and Red Rose teabag for her.

I paid a lot of attention to mechanical details, they were simple, concrete, and my mind could do other things. So I didn’t mind my duty, being the youngest, of serving the others. It was a much easier role than that of serious spiritual disciple, though a less interesting one.

“Good morning, Luna, Emily,” Isabel greeted us in a soft voice with a smile. “I’ll come by again tonight,” she told the Teacher, and he nodded.

“Call Nicholas, too.”

He stood up and moved across the kitchen, swallowed the vitamins with the remains of his tea, put on his coat, and went out the door being held open for him. Luna waited at the doorstop in case he needed anything else, and shut the door when he pulled out of the driveway.

The silence or emptiness in the house whenever he left was always palatable, and relieving in some ways. It meant free time, it meant being able to sleep soundly, and it meant a potential few hours with Will that wouldn’t be moderated – except by the Devas.

Luna wouldn’t call on me. The day was used the time to finish chores, to rest and enjoy her books or shows. She had a part-time job at a neighborhood video rental store for her own petty cash. Isabel would leave, for her own job and outside life, until the evening, when K.R. came home and a midnight dinner was served and we all gathered round for talk and lessons.

Downstairs, Will was turning off his computer. Entering his room, I found him laying down on his bed, and I sat on it next to him.

He smiled at me – Will’s smile – and we leaned together for a kiss. I wasn’t allowed to sleep in the same bed, but I lingered there until he began to drift.