Chevy Stevens - Always Watching

Aaron turned back to the group. “Do you all agree with Willow?”

Tension rippled through the members. My body filled with dread as I waited for their answer. What was going to happen if they said yes? They’d never gone against Aaron before. Would he make her leave? I held my breath.

Then one member nodded, and another. The rest followed.

Aaron smiled and said, “Then I’ll meditate and find another way.” He then headed toward the lodge, his hands clasped in front of him, his head bowed.

The members stared after him, or looked at one another in concern. Though Aaron had appeared understanding, they were obviously worried that he was upset. I was also worried about his reaction, which had seemed too calm. Some members might’ve gone after him, but Willow turned to everyone with a smile.

“Let’s go swimming before we melt in the heat!” The members, relieved to have someone tell them how to feel about the experience, started laughing and running down to the river. Robbie and Willow walked behind everyone, talking about something. I walked even slower, trying to hear what they were saying, but I couldn’t make anything out. Robbie glanced back at me once, his face unreadable.

At the river, everyone stripped off their clothes and dove in. Most of the members were naked, as usual, but some men wore jeans shorts, and a few women wore bikinis. Coyote, who was Levi’s father, was on the other side, climbing up the rock bluff at the end of the pool. Members called out, daring him to jump. Coyote, as wild as his name, would always take the highest dives into the river. He’d try to get Levi to join him, but Levi would only jump from the lower rocks, smiling when his father called him “chicken,” but I’d see the hurt in his eyes. Robbie could leap from the higher rocks, but when Levi was there, he’d stay at the same level.

This day, I stayed on the commune side of the river with the other children, and, never a strong swimmer, I walked partway out, my knees numb in the cold water. Robbie was sunning himself on the shore on the far side, his shorts wet and his hair dripping. He shook his head like a dog, sending droplets onto Willow, who was nearby with the other women and my mother. She scooped up some water and threw it at him, the spray sparkling in the sun.

Coyote, almost at the top of the cliff, where an old log jutted out, stopped to howl. We all laughed, then fell silent when he crawled out onto the log. Levi, who’d been with the group of girls, made his way toward his father, his long legs flashing white as he jumped from rock to rock.

Coyote crawled farther out on the log, which was precariously balanced over the river. It wobbled for a moment, then righted itself. The group below let out a gasp. His wife, Heidi, called up, “Coyote, come down!”

He grinned, checked that we were all still watching, and crawled out another couple of inches.

Robbie stood with his shoulders tense and his hand across his brow, blocking the sun. As Levi started to climb the cliff behind his father, his foot knocked a small rock off a ledge. It bounced, hitting against the cliff on its way down, splashing into the water. Coyote, distracted by the sound, turned in its direction, shifting his body weight. There was an audible crack as the log began to break away from the bank. Heidi let out a scream as Levi yelled, “Dad!”

Coyote plunged into the water, the log crashing in on top of him. Levi scrambled back down the cliff. The other members, Robbie in the lead, were all swimming toward the spot where Coyote had disappeared. Robbie dove down. He came up, motioned for help, then Levi dove in beside him. They were down for so long that I began to sob, great gasping gulps of air. Finally Robbie came up, Coyote’s limp body under his arm. Levi popped up next. They swam to the shore, pulling Coyote behind them. When they’d gotten him up on the rocks, Willow crouched down, motioning everyone back. Heidi was screaming. Robbie and Willow worked feverishly on Coyote: Willow giving mouth-to-mouth and Robbie doing chest compressions. Willow stopped, said something to Robbie.

Still standing in the water, my entire body shaking, I saw Coyote’s head roll to the side, his hand limp and his mouth open, blood dripping from a gash in his forehead. Aaron was now running down the hill with Joseph, drawn to the screaming. When they got to the other side, Aaron tried to find Coyote’s pulse, put his ear to his mouth. Then he looked at us and said, “He’s dead.”

Aaron and Robbie lifted Coyote and carried him back to the commune, laying him on the table. We gathered around, somber and quiet, some weeping. Heidi just moaned in broken grief. Water dripped off Coyote’s wet jeans shorts, pooling around his body. He was the first dead person I’d ever seen.

Aaron motioned us to come closer as he stood at the head of the table. His face was grave and his eyes damp. “We’ve lost a member of our family, and I know you’re sad—I am too, I loved Coyote. But I promise you that he’s in a better place.” He looked at Levi, who was staring at his father’s body, rivulets of water from his wet hair mixing with tears and dripping down his face. Aaron clasped him on the shoulder. “Coyote’s not gone. His energy’s all around us.” He looked at the group. “But so are the negative energies that caused his accident.” The group made confused whispers, unsure of what Aaron meant. He said, “One of the members denied my vision, and so we’ve been punished.”

Now everyone got it. Subtle tones of anger waved out toward Willow as they made the connection. Willow stepped back, looking fearful for the first time.

Aaron stared at her for a moment and turned away. “We need to learn from this, or we won’t be able to ascend to the next spiritual level and join our brother. Coyote has given us a great gift. We shouldn’t grieve. We should be thankful.”

The commune murmured excitedly. We’d witnessed death, but Aaron’s belief that Coyote’s spirit was still alive gave us hope, and we grasped at it. No one wanted to face that we’d never see Coyote again.

He said, “Now let’s get back to work, and later in meditation, some of you may be able to connect with Coyote.” He focused in on Willow. “We’ll talk about your spiritual path after meditation.”

She nodded, her face concerned.

The police came and took statements, the coroner leaving with Coyote’s body. A couple of hours later, Heidi miscarried. For the rest of the day, the commune was in turmoil, speaking in hushed voices, anxious for our next Satsang, and avoiding Willow. None of them wanted to end up like Coyote and Heidi.

Aaron had taken Willow into his cabin for a private meditation, and when they emerged, Aaron announced that Willow was now ready to “accept his visions.” Willow agreed, but she still looked troubled.

The next afternoon, I noticed Willow frowning again during our Sunday spiritual class when Aaron reminded us that we had to share all our belongings or we weren’t truly living as a family. Many of the members went to their tents and brought out belongings, swapping with other members, thanking them with smiles and hugs. After dinner, Aaron sent the group for our reflective walk but said that Willow was going to stay behind and meditate on her lesson from the day before. Joseph came with us, but Aaron was also going to stay and tend the animals.

As I followed the group up the trail, I glanced back and noticed Willow and Robbie talking at the edge of the forest. Then Robbie spun around and headed toward the logging road that led away from the commune. I caught a movement by the barn and realized that Aaron had been watching. Willow walked toward the river. Aaron followed. I wanted to sneak down to the commune and see what they were doing, but when I looked back up the hill, my mother was motioning for me.