Wolves and Men

“Ansuya?” a stage hand asked from her side.

She turned and looked at the man, “Yes?” she asked.

“There is a man to see you. He says he knows you and that you agreed to meet with him?” The man was polite but a little perturbed by this menial task. ‘This is not my job’ was written silently all over his face.

Ansuya blushed at the inconvenience she had caused this poor man. “Yes, absolutely I will. Where is he?” The stage hand pointed off to some corner of the sound stage and left quickly to see to some other duty he needed to attend to. Ansuya gathered her dress in front of her and glided to where the stage hand had pointed.

When she got to the end of the sound stage, in a somewhat darkened corner hidden from view from the rest of the stage, Ansuya saw the indicated man standing there. If she hadn’t recognized him, she would have turned right back around and rejoined her chorus mates. Even though she was better than they were, they were good people for the most part and she enjoyed their company.

She approached the man with caution and reserve. What was he doing here and what did he want? “Yes?” asked Ansuya shortly.

The young British Officer bowed deeply to the Indian actress. “I have come to congratulate you on your performance. I was allowed the privilege to be a spectator during the filming, and I must say you were the high point in both the dancing and singing in terms of skill. I hope that whoever is directing this film sees your obvious talents and gives you your chance to star in one of these musical extravaganza’s your people so adore putting to film and in the cinemas.”

Ansuya wasn’t impressed and she still remembered the insult that this Officer had given her the last time they spoke. “What do you want, sir?” She asked coldly.

The Officer bowed once more, “I am only here to keep a watchful eye on you till the day comes of which I was telling you about,” he stood up and looked up toward the ceiling of the sound stage as if he was looking through the wood and steel and was watching something beyond it, nestled in the heavens, unseen to all eyes but his. “It will be soon, I should think,” the man muttered to himself as he continued to scan the unseen object beyond the ceiling. “The phases in turn, if I’m right of course, it will be…” He dropped his gaze back to her, “I think that you may well become a class most suited to your upbringing and training, though I could be wrong. If so, you may be very successful…if you survive.” The man simply stared at her as if she was meant to follow or understand any of his disjointed babbling.

Ansuya stated to turn away, “As I told you, sir, I will never ask for your help. Also, I have been trained to look after myself. I am not one of your humble, demure, white British women who pride themselves on being helpless before men and spend their lives in the hunt for a worthy husband.” The emphasis on the word was not lost on the Officer. She was glad to see he hadn’t missed her meaning. “I am proud, strong, and I need no man, for either protection or instruction, in either scholarly pursuits or the more wanton and vulgar pursuits of the physical. Good day.” Ansuya walked away from the Officer the way she had come.

“When the Lunar Mother calls, we must all answer her in our own way,” said the Officer in a naturally speaking voice, neither walking away, nor chasing after the beautiful woman. “Soon you, as with all of us, will know what it is to pass through the fire of rebirth and no one here will be able to help you. Look to the stories and fables for the truth, for our past speaks to us through friendly wrapped stories of parable.”

Ansuya had heard every word and quickly turned around to ask the man what he was talking about. He stood there staring at her evenly. When she took a step toward him, he easily turned away from her and walked out of sight.

Remembering her previous oath and pride at never chasing a man, she let him go. The strange poetry he read was something that was at once strange and something all too familiar to her. Like the half-remembered lyrics to a piece of music, or the waking remnants of a dream, the true origin of the words the Officer spoke eluded all of her efforts to place them.

She looked back towards the bright lights of the sound stage. They would be resetting and taking their starting positions again within minutes. The shadow cloaked hallway where the Officer disappeared was familiar but had suddenly become frightening to her. Yet, she felt something very important was there, some piece of knowledge that she desperately needed and until now, didn’t even know it existed was secreted here.

But the Officer was gone and she had work to do. Slowly she turned back around and walked toward the light of the sound stage. Her mind was busy working the puzzle that had just been seeded there by an Officer she didn’t like; with words she couldn’t decipher the meaning to.

The Lunar Mother? Was he talking about the moon? Obviously. But what about the rest of it? To be reborn? His words wrapped themselves around her brain and even after she had taken her starting position and prepared herself for the dance and the chorus, her mind would not let his words go. Then the music started and her body moved, as it always had, in step and perfect rhythm with the passionate music that flowed through her.

She awoke suddenly. Her eyes were closed and she knew the dark room around her, the cage and the familiar smell that surrounded her were her anchor to reality. Her eyes stayed closed as she listened intently to the room around her. She hadn’t moved when she awoke and she stayed as calm and as still as if she still slept.

After long moments she was convinced that she was alone and opened her tired eyes. The gloom of the room hung around her. It was impossible to make out any real detail. Everything was a profile or shadow thrown up against others shadows. But the contours of the cage were discernible.

She began her days work.

Sixty seven times twelve is eight hundred and four. A black hole is a collapsed star creating a volume of space-time with a gravitational field so intense that it exceeds even light. The capitol of Djibouti is Djibouti. The average wind speed velocity of an unladen European Swallow is eleven meters per second or twenty miles per hour.