All hands on deck

The Basket Maker arrived late in the afternoon with a huge woven basket made of cedar bark strips. It was loosely woven, "Strong but flexible," she said. "From the story I was told strong and flexible is what this is all about!" Maha and The Basket Maker had the cedar frame laid out on the living room floor. The big blue tarp from Maha's truck filled with the pile of sticks was in the living room, too. Still blurry from sleep I looked at the nesting material and felt oddly secure. This is what's happening now, and what a way to harness the energy of a moon full in Scorpio. The moon would be full by the time we finished building this whale of a nest.

"Hi!" The Basket Weaver's high bird-like voice squealed. "Long time in between." We hugged and then looked each other in the eye. We were still the same height, she wears her hair short now, I have her beat on the inventory of gray hair and we both wear glasses. She was as beautiful as ever, her eyes sloped more at the corners where time has etched slim lines, but her skin still radiated that glow of light and fairy which had attracted me when first we met.

"Still weaving magic I see," the cedar framed basket was expertly crafted to allow filling in with whatever material came from the forest surrounding us. "Thanks so much for coming. I had no idea how I was going to do this, but Max.... What'd you think of him when you got the call?" I sat on the floor with my back against the lower bunk of the bed, Maha handed me a hot cup of almond milk. I squeezed her hand, "My favorite," and sipped sweet cinnamon sprinkled milk.

"He showed up at my studio door a week ago. Remember that freaky day of rain and almost hail, that day? I'd just finished teaching ... a class of five students. I was clearing the tables of reeds and heard the knock. A huge brown man with a hat filled the small window in the studio door. I was almost afraid ... but, catching his eyes under the bowler I could feel the calm of him. I opened the door. He said, "Are you Joy Weed's friend The Basket Maker?" "I haven't heard your name in what, twenty years, but said "Yes, I am The Basket Maker and Joy Weed, I haven't seen her for a very long time but Joy is my friend." Rain was dripping off his hat, I asked him in. "He introduced himself, 'Justin Maxwell, but 'Max' to friends.' He said he was here to ask a favor. A favor for you, Joy."

So there it was: I had my answer. Max was way out front with knowing my son was to be born from an egg. Did he realize there'd be two eggs? It wasn't my job to anticipate the moves of a Kahuna. My job as a Border Witch kept me plenty busy. Learning what that job meant only got easier from living on Earth. The way I had it explained Earth was new for me, only once before had I experienced this planet, and I was a man last time. I was going to need a lot of practice being human and this was the first time at being woman. So I wasn't supposed to know how things worked. I would have to learn to ask for help, and learn to trust. Thing is, I didn't get this information about being a new soul on Earth until I was sixty. There was lots of confusion to unravel. I'd made mistakes. "Not so many that you'd be cursed for being anything other than human!" Max was listening in. He did that. I could hear his thoughts when I was tripping over myself.

It wasn't Max that brought me the news about being a young soul. He's been coming since I was a girl still climbing mango trees. No, Max comes with very specific next steps for me, and doesn't come without a very specific purpose. He was here now to help with the birthing of magic, a birth from an egg. My assignment as Border Witch came from another woman. More about that later. For now, there were three pairs of women's hands with a nest to be built. Maha had a plan, "We'll start with filling in and strengthening the nest down here on the floor. I've brought some rope and a pulley to rig up over that rafter. She pointed to the open beams. When the nest is finished we lash it and raise it to the top bunk."

I had done research of my own in case,"We need to make the nest deep enough to create a well. The eggs will nestle in there cushioned so I can sit. 'To brood' what a misinterpretation of a bird's time for bringing in their young."

"So you will do the sitting?" Maha asked.

"That's what Raven pairs do. Traditionally the female sits on the eggs for 20 days and is fed by the male. The eggs need to be constantly kept warm. I don't know that these eggs, our eggs, should be treated any differently ... I'm not taking any chances. They're already untended." I thought of the magic Max had cast to keep the eggs protected, wondering how long the spell would last.

"Maybe Raven and I can alternate sitting? We'll need some soft material ... fleece, wool to line the well and the nest." There was plenty of filling and fitting to do before the well was made. We started there.

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Nest-builders

Max is not a small man; his body is large and so is his head. The bowler hat for a large Hawaiian man is more like a medium size salad bowl. I looked at the hat filled with the two silver eggs. We are going to need one large nest. The eggs were streaked with the look of a watercolor; muted shades of green and soft glowing yellow circled the shell. The glow pulsed; life within made itself known. It was a short walk back to my cottage even if I took the longer path that avoided the downed cedar. I pulled my paisley wood shawl off my shoulders and used it to wrap the hat and eggs into a snug bundle. I imagined Raven, remembered him the first time we met at The Cafe. The laugh lines in his face, the single glove, and the napkin pouch used to transport mugs of tea and platters of heavenly shaped cinnamon toast. I wondered where he was now and laughed at the thought of seeing him transporting the bowler hat ... the image fit like a stork. That was a bit of silliness, Pale. Silly Witch! As soon as I said 'Silly Witch' I felt his gloved hand on my elbow, heard his low deep croak. "I am with you dear Miel though at the moment I am delivering mugs of tea and cinnamon toast. Before sunset I will join you, silly witch." I was glad to know Raven was aware of the birth, and glad too that he was coming ... later. For a while I needed the company of women to surround me in this newest venture with magic.

Maha's little blue Toyota pickup was parked in my driveway. The bed of the truck was heaped with long slender sticks and trimmings from last season's grape vines.  The door to my cottage was open. I heard the song of her harp before I heard her and smelled the brew of tea.

A grin and a lovely greeting
We commend to mother dear
A grin and a lovely greeting
We send to the boy within
A grin and a lovely greeting
Come from a heart that's true
A grin and a lovely greeting
Me harp and me voice 
Sing true ...

Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby ... 

Maha has a beautiful voice and a talent for making up melody for the moment. Her hands love the work of gardening, and the whim of the harp's strings. Seeing my friend and hearing her and the harp sent me to tears. I set the bowler hat carefully into the soft folds of Mama Sing's yellow quilt on my couch and sat to let the sounds of celebration fill me.

"Lovely lullaby friend a slight correction. There are ..." I sat on the couch and undid the loose knot. "There are two eggs. Two boys or one boy and a girl?" The mystery of birth is just that, always. Additionally though, this was a birth that would reveal more when the silver eggs broke from the inside.


"Well done, mother dear." Maha joined me on the couch making sure the bundled eggs were secure in the hat. She said, "We've got backup. She'll be here anytime now. The Basket Maker is on the ferry. I'm a gardener, and the Harp is great support but what you need is an expert."

"Of course! It's been years."

"She was thrilled to get the call, and available. Which is lucky for us since I know the woman by reputation. She's an international celebrity these days."

I thought of the last time we were together and remembered the experimental kelp and citrus forms she was creating. Like nothing else before or since. I sure hope she'd be up for making a nest for brooding children of magic. But how did Maha know to get hold of The Basket Maker?

"Max!" I said without another thought.

"It was Max that made the call," Maha confirmed. "Max knows everyone. And if they don't know Max they do before long ..." Max had a way of becoming familiar without effort. He had many lifetimes of practice and was now facile with relationships; to see him in action was one of my greatest joy. I missed the large Hawaiian man already. I wondered when Max had called The Basket Maker but then ... time was the kahuna's instrument. He manipulated without bending too many rules as I understood his way. If I remembered I'd ask The Basket Maker when Max called her.

I needed a nap. Hatching eggs was going to be a lot of work. "Take the naps when you can, Mother Dear." Maha was already out the door unloading a blue plastic tarp to sort through the sticks and twigs in the truck. "I'll wake you when The Basket Maker gets here. Sweet dreams." She shut the door behind her and I headed for the quilts on my bed. I was asleep before my head touched the pillow.

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Birthing Magic

I had carried my son for forty days, but wasn't sure how the child would arrive; would I lay an egg or birth a child as most mammals birth a fully formed version of herself? Max was my mid-wife, literally a baby catcher, he crouched beside me on the trail and received the egg. The egg filled one large brown hand. The egg slid easily from the birth canal but I felt more pressure and the urge to push again. Two eggs. I was birthing twins. Now the kahuna spoke, "How amazing was that?" Max's long wool coat was on the ground behind me, I lay back and Max handed me two silver colored eggs. I was not exactly in shock, but the feeling was uncommon; wasn't Max supposed to know these things? Not one child but two.


Max pulled a small gourd off of a woven strap across his chest. Opening the small tight lid he poured water into his hands and washed. He massaged my uterus to bring any afterbirth fully through. There was none at first, but he continued to massage my belly as I made sounds and utterances mothers have made through time. The dreams were quick and brilliant. A large nest made from forest sticks hung off the ground anchored to the top of the spare bunk bed in the corner of my cozy cottage. Large enough to support my weight and that of Raven, the nest would become our brooding place for the next moon cycle, give or take a day or night. The eggs were large and both Raven and I would need to warm them. The bed would need to be moved to the other end of the big open room up against the window that opened. "You and Raven will share the sitting privileges. There are stories to be told, songs to be sung, and memories to be memorized during the brooding time. Not only will these stories fill your children; in the telling you and Raven will learn what is missing each from your legacies. Give birth to magic, and the common magic will ..."

"The common magic will what?" I asked.

"An incomplete message is it." Max was tuned to the dream and my question. He wasn't asking.

"Isn't it just like life to be an incomplete message," I was keenly aware of what I could do and at my age able to accept that it was enough. My friend the farmer loved to say, "All you have to do now honey is wash your face."

I lay back with the mountain of understanding. Overwhelmed. Elated. Oddly clear. Max motioned for me to rest. The afterbirth needed to be buried. I knew where. "With the la'i, Uncle. We'll bury the afterbirth with them." A layer of soft moss served as a temporary basket to contain the envelopes that held the eggs within in. Max said the prayers of thanks and wrapped the afterbirth and moss in a clean length of kapa he pulled from his coat pocket. When I felt ready to stand Max took the eggs from me. Watching to see me steady on my feet, the kahuna smiled and took his wool bowler hat from his head and slipped the eggs into it.

"This will do for a temporary nest, while you gather the makings for a proper brooding place. No more than two days and nights though. Maha will have sticks and other fine material for a nest for the four of you and she's bringing help. She's waiting at your cottage." With the bowler hat and silver eggs securely in my two hands, Max was gone.

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A third set of teeth

Raven did not stay long. His dance, my participation and introducing Max was enough for everyone. I heard the loud deep caws above me and watched as the silver-wings of Raven's feathered cape soared after an eagle hungry for my neighbor's favorite duck. The even louder ruckus of Maha's crowing hens was an alert. Spring is Eagle Season ... they are hungry and there aren't many fish. Maha's small birds were stalked as soon as it was light. Max was more in tune and accepting of Nature. I would need a lifetime to learn the lesson; my North Node is in Taurus.

"Where is your North Node, Uncle?" I think the question surprised the usually unflappable Max who is rarely speechless though always thoughtful in his responses. Saturn's messenger knows about time and this was an opportunity to mine. I sat on the bench along the path between Maha's place and mine. Max joined me.

"Gemini. My lessons have been about learning to painstakingly listen to what people are really saying. Not an easy lesson, I tell you that." 

"Amazing. You seem so comfortable with listening, and make me comfortable asking even though I was kinda surprised at myself for ask. North Node stuff is deep destiny. You're all about Saturn, and I'm learning to live with long term lessons. Hina messages are different more watery, feminine I guess. It's taken me almost sixty years to understand what the North Node offers me." This was an unexpected opportunity. But, maybe not so unexpected. I remembered these were the 'Ole Moons. Good time to review the long and the short. I stopped talking and breathed. Waited.

"Hmmm ... Pale Wawae I've been around for many, many, Earth years. Few people alive today know that humans are capable of living long enough to have a third set of teeth," Max stopped and with softened eyes drew his mouth into that famous toothless smile. "I am just starting that third set. Nihohuna. Hidden teeth, or if you like the other definition, 'teeth of the kahuna.' This story will wind through time Pale, so are you comfortable here?" The baby was growing quickly already my lower back was pressed by the weight of the boy. The bench was hard, but the air fresh and yes, I was comfortable. I nodded and closed my eyes to hear the rest of the story.

"I was born during the times of the high kapu when the world was governed by rules and protocol that kept a precious balance between water, land, air, and kanaka. No separations, each affected and still does affect the other. My family and my personal kuleana was far from that of being kahuna. But, closer than others I was born into family with chiefly lineage. We were responsible to the farmers, the fisherpeople, the maka'ainana. To be moi, meant you are father to all who lived on the land. You cared for them, they planted food, fished, maintained the kapus and everyone lived in pono. You know this about our Hawaii."

My eyes opened when I heard Max pause. His large hands held his jaw then cupped his lips as he breathed into them. "Part of the kapu system required the building of heiau, places for worship and places to observe time-space-distance. Kahuna tracked the turning of the heavens and the positions of the heavenly bodies. The records were kept here," Max pointed to his head, "and remembered here." Max pointed to his heart and his gut (his gut first). "When the kapu was enforced sacrifices were made, human sacrifice, when the heiau were built. In addition, it was common for moi or ali'i to sacrifice an eye or mash out their teeth to add to the mana of the ceremony. There was no hesitating and no questioning."

I knew where Max's story had taken me, and felt the weight of the lesson being shared with me. "Seasons over time, Pale Wawae. The Kapu System preserved a season of time for our people at the time. We can look back with memory, and uncover the hidden meanings as more and more children and growing adults learn and know the language. New story. My work, my job over time has been to remain embodied ... don't you love language. I love that word. I live in the stories of those like you who search for meaning and embody what you find in art. You dare to cross borders and tell about them in many ways. Pale, you are hapai at 65!"

"Yes, and I must get up and walk or you'll have to carry me down to Maha's place." We both stood, Max offering his strong arms to pull me upright. "I record stories, and wrestle with that South Node that wants to be famous and admired by all and others ... and it is never enough. But I'm adjusting and finding comfort in the stories I tell for myself. Slowly. Hearing you today Uncle I see the relative space time embodies. I don't know that I want to be in this body long enough to have a third set of teeth, but maybe that's as long it takes to learn some lessons." I was laughing now, a rolling belly laugh. Then, I felt water pooling at my ankles.

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Raven dance

"Dance?" Raven looked at Max straight across and eye to eye. They were similarly tall though I had never considered just how tall Raven was. Answering the kahuna Raven stretched his wings out from his shoulder blades and bobbed his head calling to me to join him. The laugh lines drew into his face as I stepped to clutch his wing-tip. Silver feathers glowed as I held them and within moments the silver changed to fingers long and strong the color of red cedar smoothed to polish. Swirling and bobbing we did his Raven Dance circling and bending my knees I followed him imitating his movements laughing as I lost myself to the dance and the clapping from the edges.

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Max and Raven

Raven was not surprised to see us as he looked from the jagged trunk. "What bit of silliness pleases you? I remember a girl who loved to dance to music in a friend's garage. You had a pal with bright red hair - not this sort of red," he pulled at his beard feathers and continued with the memory of a freckle-faced neighbor. It seemed so long ago to tickle a bit of silliness that made me feel light and very much an unaltered me. But, he was right. "I do love to do little dances to songs, now old, like me. "Moonlight Bay." Oh my who remembers those songs today?

"Makes no nevermind, Miel," Raven chimed in from his perch. "I've seen you dancing merrily by yourself in sensible black boots and with tiny toes bared while you cook. It pleases you." Raven and Max were yet to meet, and Raven who was big on protocol flew within inches of us, landed firmly and tucked his bill with a gesture of respect. "I am Raven, though you have known my family and we are also called 'Alala. My ancestors have lived in the forests near your steaming craters when our voices were thick and many. The Silver Band of Ravens made the Salish their home. So my blood is Earth knowing and my wings, like you, love and know the Winds."

Max was delighted to hear the genealogy of my mate and stepped forward to greet Raven with his forehead. Exchanging breath the kahuna said, "I am Max to my friends and in other places I am called Saturn's Messenger. I am very aware of time and space and have spent my cycles with both. It is a pleasure to meet one of the Silver Band of Ravens and ancestor to 'Alala." Not to distract too long from the subject of silliness, Max asked impishly, "The real question is do you dance? With a tag like yours "The Silver Band of Ravens" you must dance!

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Salmonberries

Criss-crossing the edge of thoughts, the walk back to my cottage let the emotions seep making room for what was present. Maha's kindness, and friendship was good medicine. Max stood outside my front door, I exhaled and stood beside him."Walk with me," he said reaching for my hands his were warm and pulsating.

"I'm lost when it comes to letting go of old memories. It's an old habit that makes me crazy." Max listened silently but kept his eyes on me as I stretched to climb over the fallen cedar. The rain was constant but not so heavy that it stopped us from our walk. "Mostly I like to complain," admissions weren't easy for me but Max never let on that it mattered one way or the other.

"These blossoms are beautiful such a contrast to everything around them." Max was noticing the salmon berries. The first berries of spring, the flowers would drop their petals and the plump flesh that followed promised me the taste of guavas.

"Salmon berries," I said as I sloshed into a puddle hiding under the moldy compost of alder leaves. It wasn't necessary to talk with Max; thoughts played equally with words in his world. But saying, naming things so my eyes heard from the outside in was fun.

"How hospitable of them." Max was laughing as he lifted the face of a bright fushia salmon berry blossom. Combining his facility to hear my words and thoughts I enjoyed the forest walks and practiced.

......

The kahuna's unexpected visit stretched from one night of a shared bowl of succulent noodles in chicken-rich broth to a month. There were things I needed to know about giving birth to magic. Max had answers, but mostly Max had stories. "Your son will ride a wave of three complements. His speech will be radical, could it be anything but ... The son of magic with the genes of the 'Alala mixes with your own. 'Alala is extinct in the natural spaces, but humans are raising them by hand. You, Pale who is as vulnerable as any species threatened by extinction need not be afraid to teach your son about the craziness. As it happens, it is your experience with what happens when you are crazy that will give your son the edge he needs to fly in the face of adversity. Pardon the cliche. It just fits so perfectly. Your vulnerability is the necessary second complement. Being able, and willing ... that part, the willing to cross borders is the lesson of living that opens windows and landscapes." Max stopped and turned to me. That wool bowler hat as dry as if there were only blue skies empty of rain, sat easily over his broad forehead. "Never be afraid of your way Pale Wawae. Think of it as magic in the making. Your son will surely appreciate it that way ..."

Somewhere nearby the deep donkey voice of the Raven echoed above.


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