“Helene.”
Taylor woke up screaming. His heart was racing and his body was covered in sweat. The lights were on in his room and for that he was grateful. It was bad enough hat it took him a while to remember where he was. If he had bee in darkness in a foreign place it would have been much worse. He rose from the bed in his crumpled clothing and saw that he had kicked most of the bedding to the floor. It was the dream again in all of it’s transparent horror. Only this time there was something clicking in his mind. There was something about the woman on the scaffolding. Something familiar. She was always the same woman in his dream but something was haunting him now that he could not let go of.
“Oh my God!” He stared at the bed not quite able to move. The woman in the dream was Sasha! She was different somehow; different hair and different eye color but there was no mistaking it. They were the same woman. That is why Sasha had seemed so familiar to him as if they had met before. She was the lover in his dream doomed to die night after night for as long as he could remember. How could this be? This was insanity. Maybe his mind changed her face in this dream and he only thought it was her all these years. The mind could do some pretty strange things but he knew that this was not the case. Somehow Sasha White and the woman in his dream were the same person!
STRANGER AT MIDNIGHT
Sasha was fast asleep when she heard the tapping sound. She bolted upright and looked around her room. Nothing was amiss. The sparse modern furniture reflected the moonlight coming in her window. The pale robin’s egg blue piano looked eerily like a phantom in the cold light. Her tiny desk that she managed to cram in underneath the large window looked especially bright and the could see her chrome laptop reflecting the Paris night. She started to lay back down when she heard the sound again. Three taps. It sounded like someone was rapping on her window which was impossible because she lived so high up on the fifth floor. Like a rhythmic warning the tapping sound repeated itself and she was positive now that it had to be the window. Nothing else sounds like the tapping on a glass pane. She rationalized that a hinge must be broken on her old gray shutters and hitting the window. She reluctantly got out from under the covers and walked over to the silver drapes with white gauze overlay that kept the lights of the city out of her room when need be. She pulled back the material and screamed. There on the ledge was an enormous black bird. It was staring at her tilting it’s head to one side as if trying to figure her out. Sasha laughed out loud simply to release the fear and adrenaline that were running through her bloodstream. She had never seen a blackbird in Paris; yes she had seen a million pigeons and the endless little brown Piaf’s which haunted the cafes for breadcrumbs who occasionally became so bold they would land on her saucer and beg for a morsel, but she had never seen a bird like this. It must be someone’s pet who had flown the coop. Still staring at her with it’s cold intelligent eyes it reminded her of home where there were enormous crows and blackbirds abounding everywhere and in the Autumn they would congregate in the trees above. Sometimes thousands of birds would descend upon a neighborhood and at twilight they would begin their raucous song and one would think the world was ending the noise was so loud. They would then rise and fall and dance upon the noise swooping here now there before they settled in for the night. They never stayed long but the sight of a thousand blackbirds cawing and dancing on the wind was one that stayed with Sasha forever. They always frightened her as a little girl and remembered that the first time she had seen them she must have been around six years old and it was Halloween so she thought they were great black bats and no amount of consoling could stop her crying until she was safely tucked into her bed that night. She wouldn’t touch the candy from trick or treating and made her mother throw away her princess costume. Oh how she had raised a fit over those birds and now she felt the same darkness and apprehension she had when she was that frightened little girl. Poor thing was probably just trying to find it’s way home. She smiled at the bird and comically tilted her head in the same direction as the bird, trying to match it’s quizzical look. That’s when she noticed the figure in black. Outside on the pavement bathed in the same moonlight was a person in a black cloak. This was beginning to turn into a melodrama! The figure was pacing back and forth in a small circle. Unexpectedly the person stopped walking and looked up. The bird cawed loudly three times and few off into the sky. Sasha watched it’s progress and was awestruck as she saw the bird slowly descend in a circular motion moving toward the person on the ground. The figure held out a had from beneath the heavy material and the bird landed effortlessly on it’s hand.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough weirdness for one night!” Sasha grabbed her coat and shoved her cold feet into a pair of tennis shoes and ran out of the apartment and down the stairs. When she reached her small courtyard there was nobody to be seen. She knew there as only one door out onto the street and it was secured by an electric lock. She ran through the door after pushing the ridiculously large round button which momentarily unlocked the portal. She was on the street now and looked in every direction. Straight in front of her down the Rue Malar the cloaked stranger was walking away very rapidly. Sasha followed her completely unafraid and found that her annoyance was turning into anger. The old streetlamp above her flickered a few times and suddenly went out. The bird spotted her and cried out while spreading it’s wings to take flight. The stranger began to run.
“Oh no you don’t!” Sasha muttered under her breath as she broke into a sprint. The night air was cold but it felt wonderful. She realized she felt more alive in this moment than she had for a very long time; probably since before her mother died. She had come to Paris to live the dream and now the reality was beginning to break the spell of her slumber. One can only dream while one is asleep and Sasha had the sensation of waking up after a long sleep where you wake up all confused and groggy and unsure of your surroundings. She liked this new feeling and increased her speed. She was going to get to the bottom of this bizarre little mystery.. Her mind played around with the idea that it was someone in the beauty industry, either her own company or the competition keeping tabs on the newly promoted American. The competition would no doubt try to buy any secrets she possessed and she laughed at the truth that she knew absolutely nothing. If this were some kind of corporate espionage they were totally wasting their time and money on her. Who else could it be? The trained blackbird was ridiculous though and her anger kept on the rise. The stranger had reached the river. The Seine splayed out in both directions and was it up from the street lamps which gave it an unearthly aura of romance and mystery. It was the middle of the night and as far as Sasha could see it was only her and the intruder. The person in black turned left and headed toward the Eifel Tower. Sasha hit the gravely walkway on the river’s edge and continued her pursuit. Out of nowhere the bird flew into her face and began tugging at her long hair with it’s talons.
“Holy Shit!” Sasha screamed and flung her arms out to get the bird off of her. It worked and the bird flew up into the night sky. When she looked around trying to get her hair out of her face she saw that the stranger was gone. The bird had done it’s job. How on earth does someone train a bird to do something like that? It scared the hell out of her when it attacked and all of her childhood fears about the birds came freakishly to life. The fear combined with the sprint left her heart pounding and her breath shallow and rapid. There was an iron bench nearby, the ones that the lovers always end up sitting in and becoming the inevitable cliché and she promptly sat herself down. She couldn’t even think for a few minutes as she fought to catch her breath. The sweat dripped down her forehead and finally she was calm enough to regain her composure. She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her coat around her pajamas. She probably looked like a homeless woman. She realized just how peaceful it was in the middle of the night in Paris. It was so quiet. Every once in a while she heard a car but that was about it. She could actually hear the water as it lapped against the sides of the stone river banks. It really w
as very romantic. If it weren’t for the bizarre adventure that brought her out here this would have been the perfect light to walk around the sleeping city with someone special. But that wasn’t to be. Sasha did not have time for someone special. She was too ambitious. Maybe after a year or two in France when it finally would begin to feel like home and she was more established she could begin to think about romance.. Right now it was work and saving money and trying to get some type of permanent residency out of this job. Of course today changed the whole game. In one day she now had more money than she thought she could be making and had at least five years of not having to worry about being deported. She thought of Taylor. He was very handsome and so charming but she still couldn’t figure out what the whole dream thing meant. Was it Fate? Did she dream of the man she would fall in love with? Her grandmother supposedly had a horse as a little girl and she named the horse John Murphy and told everyone that when she grew up she was going to marry John Murphy and as it turned out she met and married Kyra’s grandfather John Michael Murphy. Maybe it was her Irish mojo. Sasha mused that she could tell their children the story of how her whole life she had dreamed of the man that she would meet in the most romantic city in the world and live happily ever after? Only Sasha didn’t believe in happy ever after. Taylor lived back in the states and was only here for a few more days. She just couldn’t see herself doing the one night stand thing and began to wonder if she had it in her to do the casual fling thing. She had never done such a thing before and she was after all in a city full of lovers. It would be very French of her to have a brief affair with a man in town for a few days. She wasn’t sure she could do it but then it had been an awfully long time since she was intimate with anyone. It had been three years now since her last boyfriend and she didn’t lose any sleep over it. Truthfully she had just been completely obsessed with her career that she had no time for anything else…but now. Could she have a casual affair with the man of her dreams? She would need a therapist with a very long designer couch to figure out that one! She laughed at herself and finally got up. Now that she had cooled off the night air began to make her shiver. She walked slowly passed the closed shops and little bakeries and restaurants and boutiques. It all possessed a new charm now. In the daylight there was never any time to notice the small details that really make a place special. She walked past a little Basque restaurant and though she had walked by it everyday in the past she suddenly realized how quaint and lovely it was with all the dark wooden tables and old carved bar. This was where she was going to take Taylor for dinner. It was perfect and friendly and intimate and the food was fantastic. She had eaten there several times before but this was the first time she really saw the place. She continued on her solitary path and began for the first time in her life to question her reckless path of ambition. Maybe she had missed the important things in her life. Maybe this odd night had not been a total loss. Because of a strange figure with a strange bird beckoned her out into the magic that is Paris after midnight and changed the city for Sasha forever. She was beginning to learn something that she had never once in her life considered. That beauty in and of itself is one of the things that make this life bearable and even glorious at times. There had never been enough time in the past to even consider such a thing. In Kyra’s world beauty was money and money was beautiful. Tonight an older and far more stunning world had opened up it’s secrets to Sasha and as she wandered down the empty street she knew that her eyes had changed and somehow she had changed and she was infinitely grateful for this new insight.
Once inside her building she wondered how the intruder had gotten into the courtyard. You needed a combination and a key to get in. Was someone trying to frighten her? Well, apparently by tonight’s action she showed whomever it was that she did not frighten easily. Even though she was very petite and very feminine she definitely had a tough exterior. It came from being Irish and from being raised in the Midwest. One could not survive both of those things wit oust a tough exterior. She decided to make a cup of vanilla tea before going back to bed. It always comforted her before whenever she felt lonely or overwhelmed. She need the rich smell to calm her sense before she tried to get in a few more hours of sleep. She wanted to be on top of her game at work tomorrow and she had a date. She began to think of her new position in the company and ideas and plans began to swirl in the vortex of her endless mental activity and she began to imagine the many ways she could improve the efficiency and efficacy of her company. The crazy events of the evening were forgotten as she stared making notes to herself about performance and appearance and things of than nature. She had always been this way and was not going to change for some insane yet slightly romantic evening. She finished her tea and her notes and climbed back into bed. The drape was still open from before but she decided to leave it. Just let that pesky bird try and come back here. Maybe she would start looking for a cat. Her thoughts drifted here and now there until she was finally asleep.
Morning came much too quickly and Sasha once again was scrambling to make it on time to work. So much for going in early. She ran into her favorite patisserie and ordered a few croissants before she hopped onto the metro. She never even notice the woman with the lightest hair of perfect ringlets behind her. Looking up at the sky she realized that the grayness would soon give way to rain like it always does in Paris. The metro was crowded as usual but she managed to find a seat much to her surprise. As soon as she got situated she noticed the beautiful woman dressed all in black on the same train. She looked like a precious China doll to Sasha and she couldn’t stop looking at the perfection of the woman’s appearance. Her hair fell into the soft curls around her shoulders and her eyes were so light blue that it gave her the unearthly appearance of an alien or a fairy. Sasha thought she had to be in fashion and she tried to absorb herself into the notes she had made the previous evening. When her train pulled up to her stop she had all but forgotten the lovely waif that was standing so near to her. As she was leaving the train she noticed the woman getting off at the same stop. Sasha gave her one more glance and her eyes fell upon a glittering broach of black and silver. It was a blackbird with sparkling diamonds for eyes. This was too weird for Sasha. She rushed up the stairs and saw that the rain had gotten much worse and she held her notes above her head and ran quickly into the safety of her office building. Behind her walking ever so slowly was the woman in black. Sasha did not see her approach the domineering portals of Celgen.
Once at her desk she began to type her notes onto her computer in the order of importance. Coming in early was at the top of the list. If only she could get a good night’s sleep then it would be no problem. She looked at her light green dress to see if the rain had spoiled it. She was in luck as just a few drops were apparent around the hem. She started typing faster and faster and never saw Taylor walk up to her desk.
“Bonjour Kyra..Ca Va?” His French was so atrocious that they both laughed. She looked up from the screen to see that he was dressed just as dashingly as he had been the day before. She always imagined journalists in blue jeans and an old sweatshirt with a canvas bag slung over the shoulder. Far from this Taylor was starting to look like a native Parisian with a smoky gray suit that had a bit of a shimmer to it and a red silk shirt with the thinnest and blackest of ties. She smiled up at him and left her new ideas and projects for work far behind. She couldn’t even remember what she was typing just seconds before.
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