Tantric Coconuts Read Free

know where to find me.”
    Angel was not only nimble with her fingers but also quick on her feet. “My service will be like a tow truck. I will come to them.”
    Larsen was unconvinced. As much as he loved his daughter, he had no confidence in her ability to implement this plan. “Angel, when a car breaks down on the road, peopleknow they must call a tow truck. When a man has a sick or broken soul, how will he know to call Angel Two Sparrow, Native American spiritual consultant?”
    “I am still working on that part, but I think the friends in my study group will help me.”
    “Those coconuts?” Larsen asked, wondering whether the crazy gene was dominant or recessive.

    Aunt Lilly had been very proud of Bertha—the bookmobile she had converted to her personal residence. When Angel was a young teenager, she spent a week with Aunt Lilly on the reservation living in the bookmobile. Lilly convinced her that it had magical qualities. It was not a hard argument to make, for every night Angel experienced vivid and unusual dreams. Aunt Lilly told her that Bertha was a dream catcher on wheels: a sacred place where the spirit world can enter our lives. Lilly assured Angel that someday the bookmobile would pass to her. It was the right and proper thing for an aunt to give her niece.
    It was not, however, Aunt Lilly’s passing that brought about the untimely transfer of Bertha the Bookmobile. It was the crazy gene. Larsen felt very guilty for not paying more attention. He should have known from his last visit two years ago that her condition was deteriorating. Larsen had driven a long way on the virtually abandoned road before he reached Lilly’s secluded driveway—not much more than a path of flattened grass cleared of large boulders. She was sitting proudlyin a lawn chair near Bertha, holstering twin .45 caliber pistols while chanting some old Lakota song about White Buffalo Woman. There were man-sized wrinkles in the old woman’s face. Her brown eyes seemed unconcerned about focusing on anything in particular. She was wearing a strange vest of her own invention. She called it a harness. When Larsen asked her about it, she said, “My energy is low. I need the power of Mother Earth to revitalize my spirit.”
    Larsen looked down at his bandolier-sporting aunt. She smiled and it was apparent that she had eschewed the reservation dentist along with most everything else from the white world.
    It was unclear what was going on with her harness. A ripped and stained orange fluorescent hunting vest seemed to anchor the apparatus. There was a can of Skoal chewing tobacco peeking out of the front pocket like some shy marsupial. Duct-taped to the front and sides of the vest were various bones, wires, shotgun shells, fishing lures, and hawk feathers. Out of the back of her collaged jacket she had used a bolt to attach a green garden hose that snaked across the yard until it disappeared under a large boulder. Larsen did not believe that the earth’s energy could be so conveniently harnessed, but he respected that he did not know everything. “Have you tried coffee for your low energy, Aunt Lilly?”
    When she shook her head no, he inquired further. “Is your diet lacking?”
    “I don’t like coffee. Never did. My diet is fine.”
    Larsen rested his hand on his aunt’s shoulder. She held itsoftly and said, “Mother Earth has much healing energy. She gives her energy freely to those that can accept it. We are welcome to take what we need from her.”
    When Larsen tried to pull his fingers away, she squeezed his hand. “Would you like to charge? It’ll relieve your gas and perhaps you can also learn to be less uptight.” She patted his hand. “You seem tense.” She caught him with her steel-gray eyes. “The harness makes your heart chant.”
    Larsen had never “charged” before and, though he doubted its efficacy, he was not sure when he would have another opportunity. Besides, there was no one around to ridicule him for