my door, and I hear the bedroom door shut. He has gone to bed. This was a lucky day. A feeling ofrelieffloods through me, the hours oftension and dread are over, if only for a little while. Like his friend told me recently, he is a time bomb waiting to go off. The friend has no idea how many times that time bomb has aireadygone off, and how the drone ofits ticking pounds in my head every minute of my life. I can’t adequately explain the loneli ness and terror and shame of living with an abusive man. The verbal assaults are dehumanizing, the disgust you are greeted with in everything you try to do, the guilt you feel in your inadequacy to make the marriage work, the terror of setting him offinto a rage. And it is allyour fault! You know this because you have been told so many times. You go to great lengths to hide it. No one knows but you, and even the knowledge within yourself is hidden. In my little sanctuary of an office, in an attempt to dissuade the loneliness, I sign onto America Online on the computer. A network ofpeople, converging in a single space through telegraph lines, seems to alleviate the suffering for a while. In an empty dark room, I have the illusion of being surrounded by people—safe people. Some of these people send me messages, trying to get me to talk to them. They don’t realize that each message I get helps me to feel secure, even if I don’t respond. Several ofthese messages come and go and I’m not alone. The room is filled with nice people saying hello. And that is enough. Just knowing they are there. A new message flashes on the screen, no different from the rest, but for some unknown reason I am compelled to answer. The message says simply “Hello from Montana.” Mustering up some courage I came up with a remarkably creative reply; “Hello,” I typed. The message is from Sky. We talk—type—to each other for eight hours that night. He tells me about Meher Baba. It is difficult to explain the transformation that is occurring as I listen to Sky. It is like being in a deep dark pit, and seeing a light way off in the distance, drawing nearer and nearer. As morning breaks into sunlight, and we talk into the day, the time comes for us to say goodbye. We plan to meet again that night, but I fear when the connection ends, and the computer screen goes dark, I will be back in that pit again. Instead, after saying goodbye, I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, and my body 24
is filled with an incredible warmth and love that I have never experienced before. I feel someone touch my face as ifmy chin is being held lovingly in someone’s hand. Now, this is more than a little spooky! The room is empty The house is empty I am convinced that Sky has magical powers. I’m not going to say anything to him about it though. If I am wrong, it might scare him away. That night, we meet (on the keyboard) at the scheduled place and time. I can hardly believe that he is there. I thought this might have all been a dream. And besides, it’s a little scary too, because I’ve never known anyone that could reach out through a computer screen and touch your face—this is one powerftui dude, and I’m not sure what else he might be capable of! This goes on for a couple more nights, but that face thing is nagging at me. I know that he knows that he did it, and he isn’t bringing it up. Finally, on our third computer meeting, I bring it up. “Sky, do you remember the first night we were talking and when we said goodbye? Did you touch my face that night?” “Someone touched your face?” he asks. “Yes, someone held my chin, so gently in their hands. Was that you?” Nonchalantly, he says, “Oh no, that wasn’t me. That was Baba.” I didn’t expect that! It takes a few moments for it to sink in. It was Meher Baba. I had been touched by the Master? The God-Man that I had heard so much about over the past few nights?! That was all it took. I decided I was leaving Southern California. But how? I have no money, a broken car, a violent, vindictive husband and seven animals. I can’t leave the animals. They won’t be safe if I leave. How can I ever get out of here? I am still in a dangerous situation, but I don’t seem to mind anymore. A force that is greater than anything I could have imagined is propelling me. The next night, while Sky and I are talking, I fall asleep—nothing to do with the conversa tion, just utter exhaustion. I’m typing on the keyboard, and all ofa sudden my head crashes down on top of it with full force. My forehead is bleeding, and there is now a scar between my eyebrows. Little did I know this was Meher Baba’s work, again. The next day, I receive a credit card in the mail, in my name. It seemingly appears out of thin air. I promptly call the airline and make a reservation on the flight to Billings, Montana that Tuesday, just six days after hearing about Meher Baba. Love was drawing me there. I tell the
airlines about the animals, and they tell me I will need to get health certificates for the dogs to be allowed on the flight. It is Monday evening, and the veterinarian’s office is closed. I call around and find a veterinarian a distance away, who is open all night and is licensed to issue health certificates. Making a hurried excuse to get out ofthe house, I pack the dogs in the car and we head south to find the vet. I promptly getlost.This area of Orange County is very dark and I have no idea where I am. I pull off the freeway into a business district. Being way after regular business hours, the entire area is dark and deserted.There is not a gas station in sight. Nothing but warehouses. I drive around for a while and then give up and try to find the freeway on-ramp. All I see is more warehouses. I break down in tears, out of sheer frustration. Just then, I spot a cross on top of one of the warehouses. I drive over that way, and I see the door is part way open. What in the world is a church doing in the centre ofall these warehouses? I park the car and slowly open the door. Inside, there is a man sitting on some steps, playing a guitar. He is very nice, and he tells me how to get back on the freeway and on to the veterinarian’s office. I thank him, go back out to the car and drive away. It wouldn’t surprise me if I went back to the same spot, there would be nothing there but a deserted warehouse. With the animals approved for flight, I head back to the house. This will be the last night I spend there. Meher Baba is bringing me to Montana to be with Him and Sky. While Sky and I talk over the computer that last night, a tremendous lightning storm hits Montana and Sky has to sign offthe computer. Lightning storms are normal occurrences in Montana, but not Southern California. About an hour later, Southern Califor ma is hit with the most amazing lightning storm—the first I have ever seen and I have lived here all my life! I stand outside in the yard and stare up at the sky for hours as Meher Baba plays in the sky It seems to be a seal of approval on the pact Sky and I have made and the plans for me to leave here. Meher Baba is linking our hearts together in His love. The next morning is the big day. I sneak out of the house early, before the sun comes up, with the animals packed into the car, the turtles in a basket with a lid, and everything else that would fit into the car.