The Witch of Portobello

"If they're on the case, there's no need to worry. Our police are the best in the world."

"I'm not afraid of death. If I were to die today, I would carry with me moments that few people my age have had the chance to experience. What I'm afraid of, and this is why I've asked you to record our conversation today, is that I might kill someone."

"Kill someone?"

"You know that there are legal proceedings under way to remove Viorel from me. I've

asked friends, but no one can do anything. We just have to await the verdict. According to them--depending on the judge, of course--these fanatics will get what they want. That's why I've bought a gun. I know what it means for a child to be removed from his mother, because I've experienced it myself. And so, when the first bailiff arrives, I'll shoot, and I'll keep shooting until the bullets run out. If they don't shoot me first, I'll use the knives in my house. If they take the knives, I'll use my teeth and my nails. But no one is going to take Viorel from me, or only over my dead body. Are you recording this?"

"I am. But there are ways--"

"There aren't. My father is following the case. He says that when it comes to family law, there's little that can be done. Now turn off the tape recorder."

"Was that your testament?"

She didn't answer. When I did nothing, she took the initiative. She went over to the sound system and put on that music from the steppes, which I now knew almost by heart. She danced as she did during the rituals, completely out of rhythm, and I knew what she was trying to do. Her tape recorder was still on, a silent witness to everything that was happening there. The afternoon sunlight was pouring in through the windows, but Athena was off in search of another light, one that had been there since the creation of the world.

When she felt the spark from the Mother she stopped dancing, turned off the music, put her head in her hands, and didn't move for some time. Then she raised her head and looked at me.

"You know who is here, don't you?"

"Yes. Athena and her divine side, Hagia Sofia."

"I've grown used to doing this. I don't think it's necessary, but it's the method I've discovered for getting in touch with her, and now it's become a tradition in my life. You know who you're talking to, don't you? To Athena. I am Hagia Sofia."

"Yes, I know. The second time I danced at your house, I discovered that I had a spirit guide too: Philemon. But I don't talk to him very much, I don't listen to what he says. I only know that when he's present, it's as if our two souls have finally met."

"That's right. And today Philemon and Hagia Sofia are going to talk about love."

"Should I dance first?"

"There's no need. Philemon will understand me, because I can see that you were touched by my dance. The man before me suffers for something which he believes he has never received--my love. But the man beyond your self understands that all the pain, anxiety, and feelings of abandonment are unnecessary and childish. I love you. Not in the way that your human side wants, but in the way that the divine spark wants. We inhabit the same tent, which was placed on our path by her. There we understand that we are not the slaves of our feelings, but their masters. We serve and are served, we open the doors of our rooms and we embrace. Perhaps we kiss too, because everything that happens very intensely on earth will have its counterpart on the invisible plane. And you know that I'm not trying to provoke you, that I'm not toying with your feelings when I say that."

"What is love, then?"

"The soul, blood, and body of the Great Mother. I love you as exiled souls love each other when they meet in the middle of the desert. There will never be anything physical between us, but no passion is in vain, no love is ever wasted. If the Mother awoke that love in your heart, she awoke it in mine too, although your heart perhaps accepts it more readily. The energy of love can never be lost--it is more powerful than anything and shows itself in many ways."

"I'm not strong enough for this. Such abstractions only leave me feeling more depressed and alone than ever."

"I'm not strong enough either. I need someone by my side too. But one day, our eyes will open, the different forms of Love will be made manifest, and then suffering will disappear from the face of the earth. It won't be long now, I think. Many of us are returning from a long journey during which we were forced to search for things that were of no interest to us. Now we realize that they were false. But this return cannot be made without pain, because we have been away for a long time and feel that we are strangers in our own land. It will take some time to find the friends who also left, and the places where our roots and our treasures lie. But this will happen."

For some reason, what she said touched me. And that drove me on.

"I want to continue talking about love," I said.

"We are talking. That has always been the aim of everything I've looked for in my life--allowing Love to manifest itself in me without barriers, letting it fill up my blank spaces, making me dance, smile, justify my life, protect my son, get in touch with the heavens, with men and women, with all those who were placed on my path. I tried to control my feelings, saying such things as 'he deserves my love' or 'he doesn't.' Until, that is, I understood my fate, when I saw that I might lose the most important thing in my life."

"Your son."

"Exactly. He is the most complete manifestation of Love. When the possibility arose that he might be taken away from me, then I found myself and realized that I could never have anything or lose anything. I understood this after crying for many hours. It was only after intense suffering that the part of me I call Hagia Sofia said: 'What nonsense! Love always stays, even though, sooner or later, your son will leave.'"

I was beginning to understand.

"Love is not a habit, a commitment, or a debt. It isn't what romantic songs tell us it is--love simply is. That is the testament of Athena or Sherine or Hagia Sofia--love is. No definitions. Love and don't ask too many questions. Just love."

"That's difficult."

"Are you recording?"