Among the Goddesses

Lily Among the Goddesses, Act 1

25 Red cliff-bodies stretched from the glistening surge of a half-moon of beach as I made up the bed and Brigid raced down to the water. I breathed, feeling I was at home, in the place of a friend. Act 1 Scene 1. The little house, by the shore of a large ocean. The winding road leads to the house past large, dark, rounded cliffs. Eve is sitting on the porch in one of two green wicker rockers, her bare feet up on a the railing, drawing spiral patterns on a large pad of paper. Around her against the porch railings are propped large stained glass panels made of beach-glass. Piles of beach-glass (larger than life) are arranged by color on the floor around her. Lily (approaching the porch): Good morning! Eve: Good morning—hello! You look tired. Lily: I’ve been walking all day. Eve: Would you like to come in? Lily: Thank you! I’m Lily. Eve: And my name is Eve. Lily settles into one of the rockers and picks up the pad as Eve goes to get tea. 26 Lily: One spiral shell wound in layers like sand, one pebble left on the shore where it lands; please lend me your voices, and some of your stories . . . (looking more intently at the paper) Spirals—bird wings— Eve (settling down with the tea): So tell me, Lily, Where have you come from? Lily (simultaneously): Tell me, Eve, Why have you stayed here? They laugh and talk a little more slowly. Eve: So tell me, Lily, Where have you come from? Why have you come here? Lily: I hope to find safety with people again. Tell me, Eve, Why have you stayed here? Eve: My long-ago story still colors my days. Lily gets up and begins to walk restlessly about the house. She stops in front of one of the piles of sea-glass and half-idly picks up one piece after another as Eve walks over to her. Lily: I hope to find safety with people again. Incest threw me from my parents’ house 27 five years ago. I haven’t had a real home, but have travelled from friend to friend, job to short job, without finding someplace I needed to go Eve: My long-ago story still colors my days. Lily: Or someone to live with, somewhere I could learn . . . They sit down together on the porch again and pick up their cups of tea. Eve: My long-ago story still colors my days. Years ago, I was led from my home and my minister husband. I was searching for strengths fit for a woman, for dark, for the earth. Lily: I know what you mean, Eve! I need those things too! But look what you’ve made here. Look how it glows. Eve: Yes, patterns of stained glass keep dreaming for me around the white walls. The sad days are gone. I have lived here for decades, in these small white rooms, awakened by the shore. Lily: It’s beautiful here. It could feel like a home. Eve: I’ve needed a friend. I know I’m getting old. I should have a companion. Lily, please stay. You can rent out the spare room. Lily (half to herself, half to Eve, as Eve sips at her tea and gazes at the ocean): 28 I see your eyes leap like quick fish, I feel fire. You laugh with me easily, you brace your foot on the wide, sturdy railing. Your two hands vibrate with so many lines they are conscious with age. They rest free of each other . . . Kouretes (begins chanting): Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali—Inanna Lily and Eve move over again to the piles of sea-glass. Eve begins to pick up certain pieces and show them to Lily, introducing her to their shapes and colors. Eve: Lily, please stay. You can rent out the room where the red dreaming cliffs cup the half-moon of shore . . . Lily: No-one has heard me like you yet; I’ll stay. I’ll rent the spare room. They hug each other in delight. Eve was a garden, and her words reached down into the fertile, unashamed soil to soak up the rain of a living, long story. Her hair tossed white patterns bare trees could have made in long winter sunlights, she was so old— and as...