It was the second time I was here, and it still made my skin crawl, like my conscious missed gravity and told my body that this wasn't right.
The only thing missing this time was my mom's voice. A pang in my chest ruptured as I thought of her. The overwhelming need for her took over my thoughts. I wished she was with me now, able to tell me what I should do and how to survive this situation. I could see her face in my mind, shaking her head at them before leaning down and whispering that she thought those boys seemed lost. Asking if I could work my ‘mind mumbo jumbo’ on them.
At the time, I was so offended when she said that, telling me that my chosen profession was ‘mumbo jumbo,’ but now… now I just wanted to sit at the counter and watch her make spells and talk about what it means to be a Romani. I wouldn't argue or tell her everything she believed was nonsense. I would just sit and listen to her talk and soak up how she spoke and said things.
The other side of me, the learned side, told me that hearing her voice in that first dream was just my subconscious giving me what I wanted. Everything in these dreams is just my subconscious working out issues in reality in my dreams, but every time I think that way, I can see my mom’s scowl, shaking her head at me like I was an idiot.
She would tell me these dreams were a part of our lineage and that I needed to learn how to interpret them better to make the right moves for the future. That our ancestors, Mother Earth and the moon, were trying to guide me. That word she called me in my other dream came to mind: Chovihani.
Something about that felt right, even if my mind told me I was wrong.
Looking down at the black nothingness, thinking about how traumatic this part was last time, I figured that since it was my dream, I would need to take control of it. Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift, thinking about that flower-filled meadow. The lowering sun rays grazed my cheeks, the overwhelming floral smell that seemed otherworldly. Letting go of preconceived notions or control, telling myself to take me where I needed to go.
In the blink of an eye, I felt like something solid was underneath me. My hands drifted along the surface, touching the soft, tiny blades between my fingers. The air around me swirled like a living thing, welcoming me back like an old friend. My eyes fluttered open, revealing the breathtaking autumn meadow scenery that made me feel that magic was real. The field of Romani flowers had grown, covering more ground than before, growing as high as my knees. A sweet floral fragrance filled the air around me, and I watched the sunset inch by inch, turning the sky into a canvas of colors. Pinks, purples, blues, and oranges bled into each other delicately like a fine art watercolor. A lush, dark forest lined the meadow, giving it this secret and precious feel. I sighed, taking in the beauty unlike any I’ve ever seen.
A whisper of wings brushed the air around me, shifting like it was making room; a delicate flutter came from above. Looking up, white feathers filled my view before a soft coo sounded next to my ear, and a dove appeared on my shoulder.
Seeing a familiar face put a smile on mine even if it was a little weird.
Scanning the area around me, I didn't see any other sign of wildlife, and when I looked at this bird, it felt like it was looking back at me…lovingly. Glancing down, the eye that burned into my right arm last time stared back at me and blinked. Now, that was weird.
The dove cooed again, calling my attention. “Hey, buddy. Long time no see.” His small, soft head ran up and down my neck like it was cuddling into me. I was about to tell him to knock it off when a small translucent golden string came from the dove and weaved through the air and to my chest.
I tried to swat it away, not knowing what it was, but it went right through my hand. As soon as it connected to my chest, I felt my heart pump louder, harder, for a few beats. My breath was caught in my throat, and I almost doubled over. Something was happening to me, but it wasn't painful; it was more like it was sewing itself to me.
This sensation lasted for only a few seconds before letting go, and I gasped for breath. The dove on my shoulder cooed happily like this was the best day of its life.
Wait. How the hell did I know that?
Looking down at my chest, I saw that golden string connected to the dove. Was that….? Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I grounded myself, trying to take an inventory of my body like I did whenever I meditated. Once my mind was clear, I felt a thumping, something that was beating at a faster rate. A second heartbeat?
“What the hell did you do to me?” I asked the dove, freaking out that I now could feel its heartbeat…I think.
Its wing lifted, running down the side of my face, and the feeling of wanting to comfort filled my soul. My breathing hitched, and I fell to the ground, sitting there with a dazed expression as I tried to make sense of it all. Was this dove and I soulmates? Soul bonded? Was this a familiar kind of situation?
With my mind spinning in all different directions, I didn't notice anything was going on around me until the white dove jumped off my shoulder and squawked at another dove on the ground.
This dove was much different from my white dove, who was apparently a cuddler. This gray dove circled me, just out of arm's reach, like it was examining me. I didn't have to do anything because each time the gray dove tried to get closer to me, the white dove would get in its way, flapping its wings and squawking like it was warning it.
Since we were now connected, I checked in with the white dove and was surprised it didn't get hostile. Instead, it was more like purposeful taunting. The white dove wanted to see how serious the gray dove was.
After a few minutes of this circle dancing, the gray dove took a step to one side, which the white dove followed, but then jerked around to the left and got around the white dove. This gray dove marched up to me, the white following hot on its heel, looking like it was about to tear the other apart with its beak. Who wanted to see two doves fight to the death? Not me. Putting my hand up, signaling to the white dove to stop. “Let him come.”
The white dove slowed down, sending worry down the bond, but I shook it off. Whatever this gray dove wanted, I needed to show him I was no pushover.
We stared at each other for a long time until it hopped on my leg and ran its wing down my left forearm, leaving a burning trail in its wake. Yanking my arm away, I yelled, “Hey, what do you think you're doing?” Clutching at my arm, I scowled at the gray dove, staring at me like it couldn't figure out why I was angry.
Seconds away from telling this little dove off, molten fire crawled up the veins on my left forearm. My mouth opened in a silent scream before snapping shut, lips clenched so tight I thought they would break. A hiss broke from my lips, and I grabbed right below my elbow like I could stop the pain from traveling any further. Cracking my eyes open, I watched inky tendrils burn lines in my arm, forming a rope with a knot in the center.
What the hell was happening? Better question: why was it happening to me?
Once it was complete, it pulsed, turning red for a second before settling in on black. My head bounced between both arms before looking up at both the doves. Does this mean I’m somehow connected to this gray dove, too?
The gray dove hopped onto the ground, spread its wings, and turned around slowly, almost like it was trying to show off for me. I couldn't help but notice the subtle shading of this bird as if it were dipped in silver. I went to tell it so when something dark swooped right in front of my face, a feather-light slice running along my neck with precision.
Falling back, I covered my neck as the air around us grew dense and dangerous. Scanning my surroundings for this assailant, I sat back up, and the gray and the white doves moved to stand in front of me. A warm urge to protect filled me when their wings opened, shielding me, both glaring in one direction. Following their gaze, I saw a large black dove perched on one of the trees that lined the forest.
This dove was different. Right from the get-go, I could feel a menacing vibe in its gaze as it stared at me. Analyzing me, judging me, and finding me wanting, which just pissed me off. This was my damn dream, and I was choosing to dream about an asshole of a dove looking down on me. No. Not today.
