Sunitra recognised Samantha's voice. "Hi, Sammy, how are you? It's Sunitra. Are you well, my love?"
The little voice was pleading. "Hi, aunty Sunitra, I'm bored and we are out of ice cream. When can you come visiting again?"
"I will see, Sammy. Can I speak to your daddy?"
"He's sleeping and the babies are sleeping with him. The soldier lady who helps to look after us has just gone out. Did you know ladies can be soldiers too?''
"I never did, Sammy. Listen, can you tell your daddy I called? I will call again in an hour or so."
"I will tell him. He was crying just now. I've never seen him cry. And mommy is not back, she is terribly sick. Can't you help her?"
"I'm not a doctor, Sammy. But... Do you want me to come?"
"Yes please. And bring us some ice cream."
***
Sunitra's eyes flashed at the nurse. "Either shut up or get out. Leave us. Terry, do you have Stan's number? Do we need to call him?"
She bent over the pale wire-festooned figure. "My chela, I know you can hear me. We are here, Terry and I. Let us do the healing meditation now. Work with me. First the breathing. Concentrate, feel the life-giving air flow through your nose, down your spine, filling it with healing light, then exhale, bringing the darkness out. And again."
Terry involuntarily joined, watching the mask on his wife's face, the respirator tube, the indications on the screen next to the bed. Sunitra reached to take his hand, motioned to him to take Elizabeth's hand, and she continued with the chant. She guided them in building the life force, reaching it through the chakras, lighting them, one by one.
"Now visualise the light forming around your seventh chakra, blue, healing light. Keep it there, and then slowly let it descend to light up your head, your brain. Let it rest there, finding the pathways, the blockages, the damage. Do not fight your body, note what is damaged. Be kind to yourself, accept what is. Let the light descend..."
She guided them through their bodies, to every bone and organ, and back again, now touching on the symbolism and meaning of every organ. "And we return to the brain, and we remind our brain of its importance. We cherish what it has given us and we ask it to repair itself, to heal what can be healed, and to accept what cannot be healed. And then we allow the light which fills our bodies to join, to light up Terry, who is with you, the people in the room, the people in the building, the people who are dear to us. We visualise and fill with the light of love little Sammy, Danny and Sweetie, your parents, your friends, the community, the country, the world. And we hold them in our mind, in the clear light and we cherish them. And we return to the breathing, noting our breath. And now we release the mantra, we release the meditation and we return to the world."
She was silent, not noticing the nurse with her hand at her throat, staring at the monitor. "Elizabeth, you can release the meditation, Come back to us, my chela. Come back, I have not released you. Come back to those who love you."
The hand Terry was holding twitched, turned, held on his finger. Elizabeth uttered a soft sound, and Terry bent to hear her say, into the mask. "Sammy."
***
The evening was drawing in. Terry was exhausted from a day sitting next to a largely inanimate Elizabeth, holding her hand, listening to the occasional words she uttered, talking and reading to her.
Sammy jumped up and grabbed his legs. "Daddy, come in. Aunty Sunitra is teaching us meditation. It makes you want to go to sleep."
Sunitra was in a full lotus pose with Sweetie on her lap and Danny cross-legged beside her, holding a hand. She was droning a slow mantra. Sammy pulled Terry down with them on the carpet and joined in the chant as best she could.
They sat down together to dinner as had become a habit. "She is slightly better, I am sure she recognised what I was saying, but I could not make out anything she was saying. Mostly just sounds. The new doctor says she thinks Elizabeth is fighting to come back, but we won't know. Are you sure you can spend the night with her?"
Sunitra took his hand. "It's hard on you, isn't it, Terry? Are you sure your business is doing Ok?"
He shrugged. "Dad tries to keep an eye on things, old Langson has to keep the projects going. The workers are good, they need direction, but I just cannot leave. She, and these little ones, are everything to me. The rest just does not matter. And what about you, your school, your..."
She smiled. "Terry, I made arrangements. So many people owe me and will run what affairs I have. I am not free, you see, I accepted your wife, many years ago, as my disciple, my chela, and now she needs me. It does not matter what it takes. I have an obligation that goes deeper than anything else."
He pushed back his cup. "You used this word before. What does it mean?"
"I am an adept in the Tantra philosophy and practise. Elizabeth, as a young student, had a very bad experience, she was nearly raped, and she asked me to be her teacher, to help her learn yoga, meditation and much else. I am not free to tell you what the mysteries entail, only she can. She met you and I allowed her to go with you, because part of growing as an adept is to build up a beautiful family like this, to learn the enjoyment there is to be found in building a relationship with a partner, to making little people like your children grow into beautiful adults. She chose to follow me then, and now I reclaim her so that we can continue on this voyage. Together. As you two, as your family are together."
He looked into his empty cup. "I see there is much I never knew. She told me a little, but the rest did not seem to matter. The little ones have to have a bath, and you have to go. Thank you for being there for us. I am just getting more and more confused, I wish it could be over."
She gave him a sisterly hug and left.
***
The lights were harsh, contrasting the pastel of the sheets and the mottled grey of the walls. Sunitra gave the nurse a hand to turn the pale, wasted body so she could be sponged off, then to start rubbing the back to avoid bedsores.
"Can I do that? Can I give her a massage? I am qualified, and I have massaged her before."
The nurse lifted an eyebrow, remembering the instructions to give Sunitra a free hand, within limits. "Ok, I am on call when you want to turn her, or if you need anything."
"You wouldn't have some oil?"
She started massaging the face, the temples, the jaws, somehow tense despite the slackness of the rest of the body. Her hands found the limp muscles of the back, the arms, and she talked as she worked, reminding Elizabeth of the yoga movements she had learnt, the postures and the muscles they required.
With the help of the nurse Elizabeth was turned on her back. Sunitra gazed at her, remembering the magnificent musculature of the past, seeing the wasted frame before her. She sent the nurse away and again she massaged, stroked the fine muscles of the face. She spoke to her of their classes, the jokes they had shared. She found and stimulated the neck muscles, the chest, feeling the thin threads of muscle over the ribs. She caressed the empty breasts, once so full and elastic, now baby-chewed and slack from the general emaciation of the body. She caressed the limp body, cupped her breasts, cherished the nipples, saw them contract. She felt a momentary change in the breathing. Her hands found the stomach, fallen and empty, scarred by stretch marks from carrying three babies. Then she started on the feet, reminding Elizabeth of her surprise massage, a reward by John for her first analysis of management dynamics. She cherished the feet, felt for the muscles between the bones, stroked and caressed the thin calves, kneaded the thighs.
