Power Slide Read Online Free PDF Page B

If I tried to say anything,
I’d lose it entirely and everything I’d managed to control all these years would flood out. I needed to get inside and sit facing the wall, watching my breath until the barrage of thoughts became just thoughts again, until I could see what was extra and what was reality. How could I ever say Mike was dead? If there was the slightest chance—
    Reality! Gracie hadn’t said to ignore chances. But no way could I make the decision for everyone. Reality —she didn’t mean that either.
    I turned the corner onto Pacific, walking fast past Renzo’s. I wasn’t surprised that Gracie was sitting in her car outside the zendo when I walked up. I knew, as if I’d known for a long time and hadn’t realized it, that she was right. As if I’d already mentally gone through all my protests, already done all my grieving for Mike. “Every moment we are born; every moment we die,” Leo had said in his last dharma talk.
    She’d already rolled down the window.
    I said, “Okay. Do what you have to.” Then I turned and walked into the courtyard. Behind me I heard her pull away.
    I sat on a wooden bench in the semi-dark, oblivious to the damp cold. And by the time Guthrie arrived, I’d forgotten he was coming.
    He walked up behind, lifted me off the bench, and pulled me against him. It was as if he was allowing me time to shift out of my barely conscious blame of him for the prospect of giving up my beloved brother. Reality! Dammit, deal in what’s real! Reality was his warm, firm body against mine. I turned, ran my fingers behind his neck, and guided his head down to mine. He pulled me tighter against him, kissed me hard. And when he eased out of the kiss, he still held me there. I felt both great closeness and great distance.
    Was it coming from him, or was it me?
    After a moment, he asked, “Is this it, your Zen place?”
    That sure wasn’t the question I’d been expecting.

    “The zendo?” I said, pulling myself together. “Yeah.”
    “The priest lives here, too?”
    “Right. Our rooms are upstairs. They’re really too close together for me to—for privacy.”
    “Is he here now?”
    “I don’t think so, but still I don’t—”
    “Do Buddhists have confession? Absolution?”
    Huh! Boy, had I been misreading his intention here! “You mean like Catholics?”
    He nodded.
    “Why?”
    “I’m asking for myself.”
    I slid my hands off his back and caught his in mine; despite the pain from my burns it seemed vital not to lose our physical connection. “We have a Bodhisattva ceremony, but it doesn’t cleanse you of your sins; in fact, what we say is: ‘All my ancient tangled karma, from beginningless greed, hate, and delusion, I now fully avow.’ You’re not cleansed, but admitting your part in the chain of events is, in its own way, cleansing.”
    When he didn’t respond, I added, “Things are as they are. When you stop trying to pretend otherwise, things are clearer, and also easier. But you shouldn’t be dealing with the assistant; you ought to be talking to the abbot.”
    “The guy who’s not upstairs?” For the first time since he’d gotten here, he sounded like his normal, ironic self, for whom nothing was ever make it or break it, except when it came to work.
    “Leo should be back by ten. I’m sure he’ll see you if that’s what you want.”
    “But it won’t make any difference.”

    Even in the dim light I could see how edgy he looked, as if he’d been piloting a getaway car instead of merely driving across the Bay Bridge. “Then just what would make a difference?”
    He slid his hands free. “I don’t know.”
    “Guthrie, what is going on?”
    “I can’t—”
    “Tell me. You say you’re near to loving me.” I shot a glance at his face, wary for a flinch that would show me he hadn’t really meant it, but he stayed steady. “So, trust me. I’m near to loving you and whatever you tell me isn’t going to change that.”
    “You don’t know.”
    “I