Wild Rides and Wolves With Red Roses
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree Curves.
“Would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?”
— Jim Steinman’s “Hot Summer Night”
“Come with me,” I tell the man in my meditation. He’s not the wolf with the red roses.
I don’t even look directly at this man but he’s close to me, on my right, and there’s a strong familiarity to his presence. Yet, outside the meditation, I don’t remember who he is. Just a sense of twin flameness.
Earlier in the meditation, I’d managed to astral some- where. Not intentionally. Twice. Something happened the first time to scare me and I felt myself slip quickly back into my body. Odd sensation. Like a full-body shiver.
I’m not sure what scared me the first time but the second time, I was watching a man I know or know of. I don’t think it was my ex. It wasn’t a relative. It wasn’t The Treat or The Jerk or The Know-It-All. Yet I was being warned. I stood to his right and watched as he chatted with a woman. His date. Then he leaned in as she reclined and he kissed her throat, then tore it out with his bare teeth and looked back at me, blood dripping down his jaws.
I stumbled back and felt a painful whoosh as I rushed back into my body. It seemed to take forever to re- integrate and then sit upright. I almost felt like The Wolf had come back with me. I did get the distinct feeling that this was a warning. He was a man I have not dated or been involved with but the possibility was there to be- come involved with him and I’d just been warned that he has a tendency to silence the women he chooses.
It took a while before I was able to relax enough to re-enter that meditative state. This time, I was in something that felt like a Disney or Animal Kingdom ride mixed with an Indiana Jones adventure. There were lots of people around, many I knew. The girls were with me at times. And this man, this presence by my side. I went through the “ride” the first time on my own. Except it wasn’t exactly a fun ride.
On my way down this mountain jungle, I walked limbs over gorges, climbed cliffs with vines and rope, tip- toed barefoot across slimy rocks above a raging river, and crawled through a tunnel that ended with a gate—a sheath of heavy rock—that crashed down intermittently on whatever poor souls were trying to get out of the tunnel to safety.
There were two of the crushing rock gates. The first one stayed up long enough for 20 or so people to pass through, then slammed down, crushing someone who panicked and wouldn’t wait for it to rise again. I was able to get out just ahead of them.
The second gate, I waited for it to slam and rise again before I went through. Once passed, the gate started to close behind me. Those behind me put two big rocks at the bottom of the gate to force it open and tried to crawl under, but the rocks were simply broken and tumbled away and the people were crushed.
But I persevered and made it to the end.
Then I turned around and headed back to the top of the ride to start it over, this time with someone by my side.
“Come with me,” I told him. “I’ve been there. I’ve seen it. I know how to help people get through now.”
We went back through the ride backwards to get to the top. Along the way, I shouted to several people to keep to the middle path, stay off the slimy rocks that would make them lose their footing and plunge them into the river where they’ve be carried away and dashed against the rocks. Some people changed their paths and found their footing. Others didn’t.
From below, we could see the second crushing gate, more bodies decimated under it. That was where I felt most needed.
Inside the tunnel, I explained to the panicked people there that the gate would rise again, giving them an opportunity, but they needed to be aware of the opportunity and plan their movements. I told the crowd not to rush the gate while it was closing but to wait for it to re-open.
That took a lot of trust on their part and many didn’t know or trust me and crashed right through. Some made it. Some didn’t.
I stationed two strong people on either side of the door to go through first the next time it opened—myself and the presence with me. We’d be the first ones through but once through, we would stand on either side of the gate and help pull others through to safe footing where they could continue the journey. I’d been this way before, I explained, and I knew how to help them through. This time, the people behind us agreed, and we were able to help so many more souls through that gate.