by Jacob Rundle
The creature hated the bright light of Henri’s energy, and it wanted to devour him and his new energy field. The insidious evil made its way towards him. Henri glared at the creature, promising its demise.
“You’re going to pay for that.” Henri prayed that whatever was happening to him was enough to end this creature. The light grew to the point where Henri felt as though his body was going to explode.
In one thought, Henri released every ounce of light within him. The light incinerated the creature’s arm, releasing Henri from its grasp. The light surged through the creature’s body, throwing it back against the wall. The creature released a terrifying scream that would’ve paralyzed Henri had he not already heard it once before.
Henri no longer held fear of the creature. He had weakened it. With the light expended from his body, it was time though for Henri to get back to his own time. He searched for his connection with his physical body back in his bathroom.
“There… we will meet again, creature.” Henri closed his eyes, and he envisioned his bathroom where his physical body was. Henri held onto the desire to return home. When he opened his eyes, Henri was standing back in his bathroom, staring into the mirror.
He looked down at his body, and he didn’t see anything different. What he did feel was the pain in his chest where the creature had tried to crush his ribs. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, and the blue light that came from him and injured the creature.
“What the hell was that?” Henri wondered what else this destiny was going to bring to him. Henri needed to contact Siméon to discuss what just happened. He held his arm around his ribs to help with the pain. Making his way to the phone, he dialed Siméon.
“Siméon. We have to meet. Are you free? Tomorrow is perfect. I’ll see you then.” Henri dropped the call, knowing that from this moment forward, his life really wasn’t going to be the same.
CHAPTER 9
Henri woke the next morning, feeling abnormally tired and drained. He knew that he was exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of projecting to the future and the events that had occurred. He couldn’t stop thinking of Tim Stevenson’s death. All Henri had to do was to think of him, and he could still hear his screams and feel the poison spreading throughout his body right before he died.
Henri lay in bed, lost in thought, feeling as though he had gained a sense of confirmation about his destiny. He had no clue as to how he was going to tell Siméon what happened because not even Henri completely understood it.
“She grounded me.” Henri shifted his focus to his mother’s punishment, and he was elated that his mother knew nothing of his shenanigans. He chuckled at the idea of his mother grounding him since it was the first time that she had ever punished him, yet he had no other choice but to go with the flow.
Henri replayed the vision in his mind; he wanted to find something significant. When he heard the phone ringing, he noticed a sharp pressure in his head. Henri rushed down the stairs to get the phone. He had an idea of who he wanted to be calling, but he answered indifferently.
“Hell…hello?” Henri hid his excitement.
“Henri?” a deep-toned male voice asked.
“Yes, this is he. Who’s this?” Henri answered automatically even though he knew that it was Siméon.
“It’s Siméon.” Henri squeaked and cleared his throat when he heard his voice. His heart fluttered like an uncontrollable, love-struck child.
“Hey, Siméon. What’s going on?” Henri didn’t care why he called; he felt intoxicated by Siméon’s voice.
“Hi, Henri. I know that we agreed to meet this morning, but I am wondering if we could meet up later this evening instead? Maybe we can go for a cup of coffee?” Henri wondered why Siméon wanted to move their meeting back, but he wasn’t upset in the slightest.
“I’m not sure, Siméon. Let me check my calendar.” Henri always wanted to sound cliché with someone, but he figured that they had business to discuss.
“Oh, are you busy today?” Henri noticed a change in Siméon’s tone, and he speculated that Siméon desired to see him.
“I just have to move some things around, but I should be able to.” Henri didn’t want Siméon to know that he didn’t have anything to do.
“Henri, I’d like to discuss what happened in class.” Siméon was persistent when it came to destiny talk. Henri was still confused about it, and he still had to tell Siméon about Tim Stevenson and the shadow figure.
“Yeah, sounds good. Have any place in particular?” Henri blushed uncontrollably, and he was glad that Siméon couldn’t see it.
Henri found it difficult to speak with Siméon without stuttering. He loved how he made him feel again, especially since he hadn’t felt anything since his father’s death.
“There’s a place on 9th and Broad. It’s a great Cuban place where you’ll get a real café. Sound good?” Siméon suggested.
“That sounds great, Siméon. I will see you there.” Henri wanted to jump in the air as he heard the excitement in Siméon’s voice.
Henri hung up the phone and replayed the conversation. He didn’t know whether Siméon was calling just to see him or if it was more to discuss the vision from the other day.
For a brief moment, Henri felt like a normal teenager. He didn’t have to worry about destiny or visions. It was simply that he had to pick the right clothes. Henri was worried that his mother was going to kill him for going against her wishes. He wanted to take a stand and to make a statement that he was an adult. But his thoughts were on Siméon, and their date later in the evening.
CHAPTER 10
EL CAFÉ DEL SOL
Henri arrived at the coffee shop that Siméon had suggested earlier on the phone. He placed his car in park, and he hesitated to exit the vehicle, mustering up the courage to finally make the move. This was the most terrified that Henri had ever been.
He climbed apprehensively out of the car and started to walk towards the front door. He paused before going inside.
“Why am I so scared?” he asked himself.
He took one last deep breath, and he entered the shop. The first waitress that he saw greeted him,
“Quieres un café?” the waitress bombarded Henri.
“Oh…umm. Lo siento. Yo sólo hablo un pequito español,” Henri replied in what he thought was basic Spanish, but she laughed at him with a big grin.
“Henri, I know that you don’t speak Spanish.” She seemingly mocked him that caught Henri off guard not knowing who she was.
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” Henri asked, doing his best to hide his embarrassment.
She clearly couldn’t believe that he didn’t remember her, and so she questioned him. “You don’t remember me? We had the same Calculus class last year. I was a senior at Eastland High.” She couldn’t believe that he had forgotten her, even though it hadn’t been a full year since they were in school together.
Henri racked his brain, and he thought to himself who are you?
“Oh, yes… Etlina! I am so sorry. I do remember you. What a small world!” Henri chuckled, and he felt horribly embarrassed for not remembering the one person who had spoken to him at school. Henri faintly remembered what it was like at his old school.
“I am so sorry to hear about your Dad.” She glanced at Henri while she wiped a tear. He was shocked that she even knew about his dad.
“Thanks, Etlina.” Henri didn’t want to come off as rude, but he didn’t want to discuss his father today.
She was about to continue talking with Henri when she locked eyes with a boy approaching them. Henri saw Siméon had arrived, and his spirit changed. He greeted Etlina and Henri, “Bonswa. I am so sorry that I am late.”
“Hi.” Henri’s heart skipped a beat when he saw Siméon. He couldn’t stop gazing into his eyes. Henri still couldn’t wrap his head around how safe he felt with Siméon, but he loved it.
“Do’ cafecito’. Por favor.” Henri was impressed that Siméon seemed to be fluent in Spanish as well.
“So, making new friends I see?” Siméon laughed at Henri’s quirky social skills.
“Oh, I actually know her. Her name is Etlina. We went to the same high school back in Denver. We had some of the same classes together. After she graduated, I didn’t see her again.” Henri felt as though he had said too much.
“Siméon, why did you want to meet tonight?” Henri continued nervously. He hoped that Siméon would give him the answer that he wanted to hear. Etlina approached their table with coffees in hand.
“Well, I think that it’s time that we discuss what happened last month. You need to know more, Henri.” Siméon’s expression indicated that he was serious about what he was going to say. Henri thought that the meeting was business and not pleasure.
“Really?” Henri held back his displeasure.
“Of course. Why else would I call you?” Siméon asked without considering Henri’s reaction.
“Because…” Henri’s emotions coursed throughout his mind, making it difficult to focus on the conversation ahead.
“Henri, were you hoping for some other reason?” Siméon seemed confused by Henri’s reaction; he wished that he could read the other boy’s mind.
“Yes. I do have a few questions. You tell me that we have always had a cyclic cosmic connection, yet you seem to want to skip over that part. I don’t get it.” Henri’s emotions continued to course stressfully throughout his body. He hated that he was acting like a child.
Siméon stared at Henri wide-eyed, trying to see if there was a way to calm him down, but Henri’s emotions blocked his ability to read his body movements. Henri locked eyes with him again, wishing that the conversation was going in a different direction. Henri eventually exhaled and accepted Siméon’s answer, so he decided to move on with the conversation.
“Anyway, Monsieur Dickinson was going over new French verbs. That is all I can remember. It was a long day.” Henri’s willingness to discuss the other day had changed. He lost interest in the conversation quickly, and he desperately wanted to leave the coffee shop.
“Henri, you have the choice to either follow your destiny or not. So, I am here to discuss what that all means.” Siméon sensed Henri’s demeanor had changed which made it difficult to continue their conversation.
“Siméon, why is this important?” Henri sighed.
“What do you mean? Why is it important?” Siméon was blown away by Henri’s indifference. “Henri, it is vital because the fate of reality relies upon your decision. Believe it or not, you are tied to this whole ordeal.” Henri was speechless.
He couldn’t believe that a single person could possibly influence the fate of another, let alone the whole universe.
Henri sat still on the cold pavement of the coffee shop, trying to gather enough focus to listen to Siméon’s story. He simultaneously felt the internal struggle to either leave Siméon or to stay. Henri decided to stay; he knew the topic was important.
Henri felt the same sensations in his stomach that he had felt the last time he had a vision. He rubbed his forehead, hoping the throbbing pain would subside.
“It’s happening right now, isn’t it, Henri?” Siméon observed Henri’s discomfort.
“Yeah, but this time it feels different,” Henri remarked. The pain quickly became too intense for him; he dropped his face into his hands, trying to block out the surrounding sounds. His efforts to ease his pain weren’t working.
“It will become easier the more you get used to your gifts.” Siméon leaned towards Henri, and he helped him by gently rubbing his head.
“Great. Thanks,” Henri replied. He was able to relax somewhat as his headache subsided. The one thing that Henri didn’t enjoy was the side effects of his visions.
“Henri, I know that this information is difficult to digest, but we must discuss it. You experienced a projected vision.”
Henri interrupted him. “You’re telling me? I was there, Siméon.”
“You fully understand that you project your spiritual body to the time and place?” Siméon explained as a matter of fact. Siméon ceased rubbing Henri’s head, and the symptoms resurfaced. Henri wanted to keel over.
“Oh, wow.” The pressure in his head became too much, and he didn’t want to continue their conversation. This time the pressure appeared to travel along his shoulders and down his back.
“Henri, your gift is quite unique. I have met others who have visions. You, on the other hand, are quite phenomenal. You project yourself, which can be extremely dangerous. You could get injured or worse,” Siméon professed to Henri.
“I appreciate the concern, Siméon. But I will be fine.” Henri said.
“Henri, this is a very unique situation. I have never met someone who experiences their visions in every sense, and I have led many, many people,” Siméon explained to Henri, yet he wasn’t receptive to his warning.
“So, I projected myself to your past. Am I close?” Henri asked, trying to maintain his attentiveness.
“Yes. And that is a special gift,” Siméon expressed intensively.
“Hmmm.” Henri’s attention kept being thwarted by his migraine.
“Henri, there are bigger things at work here. This is the first life-time that you’ve had this ability.” Siméon’s tone changed drastically, forcing Henri to pay attention. Henri felt the pressure across his shoulders become tighter.
“I’ve had gifts in each lifetime?” Henri asked, staring into Siméon’s eyes.
“No. Each lifetime is different,” Siméon explained.
“Well, what is yours?” Henri asked insensitively.
“Mine? I’m a teacher. I have my skills.” Siméon smiled, leaving Henri to believe that he had something up his sleeve.
He noticed that Henri had more to say, but Siméon was trying to stay focused on the topic at hand.
“About the vision. It was a past memory of mine when I was in Haiti. Henri, there is something that I want to show you. Will you come with me?” Siméon asked in a soft tone.
“Where are we going?” Henri questioned him.
“My place. Let’s go. You’ll love my exchange parents. They’re great people.” Siméon stood and helped Henri to his feet.
Siméon went to find Etlina to pay the bill while Henri walked towards the exit, but someone was trying to get his attention, “Hey! Henri, we should get together sometime. If you’re up for it, contact me, and we’ll arrange something,” Etlina suggested quickly.
Henri replied, “That sounds great, Etlina. Let’s make it happen.” He walked over to her and gave her his phone number. For a moment, Henri felt a form of normalcy that he had desired.
“Awesome. I’ll see you soon, Henri.” She thanked him and waved good-bye.
“See you later, Etlina. It was great to see you again.” Henri smiled, and he ventured into the night’s veil.
Once outside, Henri took a moment to smell the scent of brisk, fresh air. The cool breeze of the autumn wind brushed against his face, relieving the pain of his headache. He stood in the middle of the road, taking in the silence. It was one of the few moments where he was completely alone.
“You ready?” Siméon swooped around him, meeting in front of him.
“Oh, yeah.” Henri couldn’t stop taking in the night’s air.
“Okay. Let’s go.” Siméon gave him his address, and they agreed to meet there.
Henri sat in his car, replaying the events from the coffee shop, and he knew that the next stop was going to be more intense.
CHAPTER 11
SIMEON’S HOUSE
“So, bienvenue!” Siméon presented his space enthusiastically. Henri understood that Siméon valued his space, and he gave Henri a tour of his apartment that he shared with his host parents.
“Wow…you live here? I mean…you have your own place,” Henri shockingly remarked.
“Wi...of course, I do. Well, my host parents gave me this space. They are very respectful of my language and culture. My parents still live in Port-au-Prince,” S
iméon explained.
“So, what was it that you wanted to show me, Siméon?” Henri wanted to remain focused, but Siméon was caught up in sharing his culture with him. Henri had many mixed feelings of attraction, confusion and paranoia running through his head. He was in complete emotional warfare with himself.
“Henri, I must show you the truth.” Siméon led him to the dining room.
“The…the truth? The truth about what?” Henri spoke, feeling lost in the conversation. He was struggling to keep pace while dealing with his massive migraine.
“Your destiny,” Siméon said with a very serious tone.
Siméon’s apartment possessed many mysterious artifacts from his homeland. One of the pieces was a beautifully sequined flag, hanging on the wall above his television. The image appeared to be of a very strong, powerful, forceful woman. The sequence of the colors drew one’s attention into the piece of art. The different shades of colors formed a wave that resembled the force of an ocean wave.
Henri studied the image. It seemed to forcibly pull him into the art as though the sequined flag had a soul. His focus wavered, making it difficult to concentrate. He heard drops of water and waves crashing against the rocks. He peered throughout the room, hoping Siméon had a CD playing of oceans sounds.
Moans of Mother Earth rang out sadly, highlighted with the deep blue bands of color from the sequined flag. Henri truly felt transported into the sea. He could even see the mysterious depths of Neptune’s domain.
The unknown of the ocean had always possessed the power to pull anyone and everyone into her arms. He glanced further down into its darkened depths, and he saw a beautiful, mesmerizing celestial blue light.
Accompanying the mysterious light was an extremely addictive melody that resembled the chords of an opera singer. He found he had no control over his mind or body.