Wakefield Read Online Free Page B

Shaman Union, formed after the collapse of the Soviet one. He had magical powers, as real shamans do; one of which infused Zelda with an irresistible crush. She decided to stay on in Siberia, where the weather was surprisingly better than it had been on any of Wakefield’s dates with her. One day she returned, heartbroken. Her shaman boy-lover had been lost hunting alone. His body was never found, but Zelda received psychic messages from him. One of these instructed her never to resume a romantic relationship with Wakefield.
    Zelda wrote an account of her Siberian adventure that was rejected by every academic publication she offered it to, even though she tried her best to keep the “paranormal” references to a minimum. She was denied tenure at the university because of her long absence and failure to publish. Zelda took this not entirely unexpected outcome in stride, and on the counsel of her ghostly lover, she purged the essay of academic jargon and published it as a paperback for popular consumption. The book was a best-seller. With the profits Zelda opened Crossroads Travel, and cultivated a select clientele of people interested in traveling to places where magic is still practiced. Crossroads Travel advertised only in New Age publications, and several cable networks featured programs with Zelda in exotic locales, communing with loin-clothed pygmies or saffron-robed monks.
    Wakefield never took her special tours, but Zelda booked all his professional flights, which were mostly to very ordinary places. This service, which could have been performed by any travel agent, came with an educational component, however. For instance, when Wakefield complained that he didn’t get enough exercise because he flew too much, Zelda gently lectured him.
    â€œYou have to change your perspective on everything, especially flying. Flying is your dharma, your karma, but it can also be your yoga. When it rained and stormed on us all the time, it was because of our inattention. I am normally a very observant person, but something happened when I was with you. I lost my edge; everything looked blurry like I wasn’t wearing my glasses. You always were the absentminded type, which was charming for a while, but was annoying as hell when you stopped wearing your glasses. You also snore. Anyway, when both of us became inattentive, the universe responded with bad weather.”
    Wakefield listened to this analysis with growing astonishment until he had to interrupt. “But Zelda, why in God’s name would the universe care about us in such an … attentive way? Rain and wind drench and smack everybody! Do you mean to say that all the innocent bystanders to our moments were victims of this … attention … by the universe?” Wakefield rarely invoked God, but it seemed appropriate.
    â€œI can’t explain this, Wakefield,” she said impatiently, “but I’m convinced that the only way for you to become more focused and more observant is to be confined in a small place with a narrow field of vision, where you can’t move very much and have limited opportunities to complain, a place where you can go deeply into yourself and think beyond your usual parameters. If you just learn some simple breathing exercises and some minimal physical ones, you will evolve so fast it will scare you. That airplane seat is your yoga mat, Wakefield. Flying can be your yoga practice. Now let me teach you some breathing exercises.”
    Wakefield had declined her offer and left her office in irritation. It started raining as soon as he was out the door. He arrived home soaked. After a few drinks and a long phone conversation with Ivan “Reality Check” Zamyatin, he decided to give Zelda another chance. The truth was that she was efficient, she knew his preferences, she had all his frequent flier numbers on file, and she took care of rental cars, hotels, and whatever else he needed. He was too lazy to start