I met Fox in the square.
He wasn’t homeless or living in a boarding house like I was. He just hung out there and we became friends of a sort. He hung out with others like Stacey and Shadow, both of them always dressed in black. Fox knew other people I knew like Sunshine, and he was different. He didn’t have to be here; he wanted to be here. It felt like he was choosing all of us as his family and we became fast friends.
After a few weeks of knowing him, Fox asked if I wanted to meet some other friends of his. “Nothing kinky, don’t worry about that. They’re just some like minded individuals that I think you’d get along with really well. If you’d like to?”
“Why would I like them?” I asked. He knew that I had an aversion to meeting other people and I knew that he would be honest with me about why he had brought them up.
“It’s your tarot cards. My friend Lisa is always going on about them and loves them too. She’s always reading, and you’ve read some of the books she has. I’d like you to meet Lisa and a few other friends. We’re all going to dinner at James Street if you want to come. My treat?”
I nodded, despite my initial fear. It was the mention of tarot cards. Anyone that was drawn to the cards couldn’t be that bad. It would be good for me to talk to other tarot readers and see what their journey with the cards had been.
As we approached the James Street Feed Co., I was nervous but excited. Fox told me all about Lisa and his other friends Sophie and Jess. Sophie was an artist and Jess was a writer. It felt too good to be true and I had no idea how Fox knew so many awesome people, but it felt like I was being invited into a community of creatives, and they were all the things I wished that I could be. I had always written but had begun to think about trying my hand at making art, too. I reminded myself not to ask too many questions; I didn’t want to be too annoying.
Entering the restaurant, Fox saw his three friends and waved. We walked over to the table and all three woman got up so that they could exchange hugs. I stiffened as Lisa wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I hugged her back, but hesitantly.
“Why, Fox! Who have you brought us this time?” Lisa asked.
“This is Jamieson.” Fox smiled at me and gave me a reassuring look. “I think you’ll like him.”
“Fox is always bringing us strays so that we can help lead them home.” Sophie said.
“Home to where?” I asked.
“To the god and goddess, of course.” Lisa said, giving me another hug. “I knew you were one of us, right when I saw you, I knew.”
“One of who?” I asked her, feeling as if I’d fallen down some sort of rabbit hole.
“That you were Pagan of course.”
It was if the word was a key and it opened something within me. Looking at Lisa, I could see fire all around her, the air above her head filling with sparks and bits of magic. For a moment, I could see her walking toward me, a metal helmet and breast plate made of the shiniest metal. She was a flame and I was the moth drawn towards her light. Lisa was lit brightly and she radiated warmth.
When I blinked my eyes, the vision was gone, but I knew that I was in the presence of someone beautiful.
We sat at the table, and they ordered appetizers. “I’m a warrior witch,” Lisa said. “You’ll find your own path; that’s what Paganism is all about. Instead of a G-O-D, there are all kinds of gods. You just need to find the ones that call to you.”
“The ones?”
“Yes, in Paganism it’s all about balance. There is male and a female, or at the very least two gods that call to you.” Sophie said. She was a little older than Lisa and when I looked at her, I saw the Hierophant, someone who was wise and full of ancient wisdom that she had collected. “Just like there are all kinds of gods, there are all kinds of magics. You just follow what you’re called to.”
“Fox tells us that you like to write.” Jess said. “That’s a kind of magic, too. I’m a writer, like you. It’s good you’ve found your magic already.”
I shook my head. “My writing isn’t magic.”
“Ha!” Jess said. “We’ll make a believer out of you yet. Do you need to yearn to write, need to write?” She gave me a knowing smile when I nodded. “Then it’s your magic. You’re lucky you’ve found it when you’re so young. It took me ages to figure out what I wanted to do.”
It felt like I had found my kindred spirits. We talked about all manner of things, how they had each found paganism and how it had brought them to a deeper sense of who they were and their place in the world. We talked a little bit about my family, but I veered the subject away from my mom and stepfather. I wasn’t ready to talk about them yet, but I did talk about the people I knew on the streets. I talked about Sunshine, Rainbow and Angel. I talked about Renee and Jesus. I told them about the YSB and the Ottawa Mission and the people I had met there. I talked to the four of them as if they were already fast friends and I knew that they were.
I thought of the door that Lisa had opened within me, and I was astounded that I felt the light within me grow a little brighter, so much so that I could even feel its warmth within me. I looked down at my hands and could have sworn that sparkles were cascading from my fingertips, and I wondered if the light showed when I spoke, whether the group of us could see the light growing within me.
Looking up at the light fixture that hung down above us, I took in all the light that surrounded us. I wonder what that light would show me and which direction I was heading in. Lisa looked at me, a deep knowing look as if she could see into my skin and observe my spirit. “I don’t know hurt you, but we can help with that.”
I shook my head, suddenly embarrassed. “No one hurt me,” I said.
“Your eyes tell me different.” She patted my hand. “It’s okay, Jamieson. It takes time to heal. You’re safe, now. You’re a warrior, don’t forget that.”
My spirit thrummed in response, and I opened myself to the music of the light. In that moment, I chose to follow that light and see where it would take me.
Spirit of the Wolf 