by Lisa Graves
I desperately wanted to run home. But something was lurking in the night. I was certain it would see me if I ran. Maybe if I held still I would blend into the darkness, hidden in shadow. A voice in the back of my mind, however, told me that whatever was out there could see me regardless. That perhaps, it had brought me here in the first place.
I started to shiver uncontrollably. I couldn’t help myself. The scariest part was knowing, not that I was alone, but that I wasn’t.
A twig snapped in the dark recesses of the trees behind me. I stood up and peered into the leaves. I squinted to try and see something within the black branches. I struggled as I tried to decipher the shape of whatever was lurking out of my sight. Suddenly, I spotted a recognizable shape, two familiar green eyes were looking at me from within the leafy shadows.
I was so startled I fell back. I scrambled, trying to put as much distance between myself and those eyes as possible. They were getting closer. From out of what felt like nowhere, the eyes came out of the shadows and there before me stood Elliott.
I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless.
My latest assessment of Elliott was that he must be a figment of my imagination. However, I couldn’t get over how real he seemed when I was near him, and here he was now.
My heart raced. My mind couldn’t decide whether fear or desire was the appropriate emotion.
Before my very eyes stood Elliott. A tall, well built piece of dreamy man meat that once told me I was beautiful. On the other hand, all signs were pointing to the most likely scenario that I had imagined it all. I might even be imagining him and his dark chocolate hair now.
Elliott was quiet, a patient understanding in his eyes. He just stood there and smiled as I looked up at him from my current position - sprawled on the ground.
Was it wrong that I liked him so much? Who was I kidding. It was beyond wrong if he was indeed a figment of my imagination. I was taking narcissism to new heights. I didn’t know what to do. I faintly smiled back.
Elliott reached out his hand in a gesture to help me up. I looked at it, deciding what would be the best thing to do. Take it and keep encouraging my all too vivid imagination, or refuse it and try to wake up. I wasn’t kidding anyone, let alone myself. I wanted to take his hand. I wanted to be with him, no matter where that may be. I was happy with him.
Unfortunately for me, I waited too long. I went to take his hand but it had already been moved to his side. I didn’t even have a chance to feel hurt at missing my opportunity to touch him. To my surprise, he folded his body down and sat next to me in the grass. I sat up looking at him. I was scared and happy, and both emotions came from him being close to me.
“Buona sera Lilly.” His honey voice purred in my ears.
I couldn’t help but realize that this was too good to be true. My smile turned to a frown. I could, but shouldn’t, continue on encouraging these hallucinations. He saw the change in my face.
“What’s wrong?”
What was I supposed to say? As far as I could tell, either way I was talking to myself. Eh? I had to do something to put these hallucinations to an end. No matter how fabulous they were. I didn’t want to end up committed.
“Elliott,” I whispered as his green eyes penetrated my being in a way that made me feel like an open book, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
His face fell. I hurt him. “Why not?”
My eyes looked at the ground. I didn’t want to, but I made myself say it. “You’re not real.”
Elliott was quiet. I looked up to see what he was doing. He continued to sit on the grass but he looked shocked. “What do you mean by that?” I noticed a cautious tone in his voice.
I dove into my brain trying to find the right words to use when breaking up with yourself. I came up empty handed. The fact that I desperately wanted to stay and live in my fantasy land didn’t make it any easier. My torrent stream of emotions was giving me away. I bit my lip, trying to keep my face from exposing all of my secrets. Strangely, he did the same.
“What do you mean, I’m not real?” Elliott asked again. He gently placed his hand on mine. The usual sensation of electricity flowing through him to me, pricked my mind and made me doubt my hallucination theory. He wasn’t helping me.
It was probably a combination of my emotions keeping me an inch from tears and his penetrating eyes bearing down on my soul, but I had overflowed. I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out.
“YOU ARE NOT REAL!” I yelled, more at myself than at Elliott.
I stood up. His mouth gapped open at me as I paced the cove and continued.
“You are too perfect. And good looking. And sweet...”
He looked as though he was going to argue, but I went on.
“No one has seen you but me.”
He whispered something to himself and shook his head.
“You appear and disappear out of nowhere.”
I turned again at the edge of the cove, racking my brain for more proof of my theory. When I resumed my pacing, he spoke.
“I know,” he said in a soft, apologetic purr and looked straight at me.
Elliott caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected my hallucination to agree with me. “What do you mean you know? And what about this ring?!” I was at my wits end. I was crying now. I was ashamed of having worked myself into tears. I turned my face away from him trying to hide the water running down my cheeks.
“Please sit down Miele,” he said patting the grass beside him, “and I promise to explain.”
I slowly folded myself onto the grass at his side, continuing to look away. “That’s the second time you called me that. Miele.” The word sounded foreign on my tongue. “What does it mean?” I said as I looked at him, curious yet cautious at the same time.
He was moving abnormally slow. Perhaps in an effort to calm me down. Elliott gently took my left hand in his and stroked my middle finger as he looked at the ring.
“Where should I begin...?” He said to himself as he let his gaze get lost in the ocean of color.
I followed his eyes to the stone on my hand and temporarily lost myself in its brilliance. As the colors absorbed my thoughts, a strange realization came to me. I never did try and get the ring off with soap and water that day with Charlotte. I had completely forgotten to even try. It had been such an urgent need at the time, but somehow in the wake of everything, it had become a part of me. As though it was always mine. His voice pulled me back to the meadow and the moonless night.
“You and I met in 1719 in Napoli. Naples.” His eyes looked worried at how I would take in his story. I must have looked too calm and collected because he stopped and said, “Why are you taking this so well? You freaked out on me a second ago for saying good evening.”
“Elliott. You’re not real. You are just my imagination running wild. All signs point to the fact that I must be dreaming.” A fabulous dream. “Charlotte’s with me on this. I don’t like it, but I have to face the fact that you are a wonderful hallucination.”
Elliott looked quite amused at my conclusion. How was he taking this so well? I was certain my mind would fight me on this.
“Lilly, how can I convince you I’m real?”
“Why is my head trying to screw with me?” I said aloud and looked directly at him. “No one has seen you but me. I’m fairly certain no one can see you but me. Unfortunately, for me, you are not real.”
To my surprise Elliott laughed. It was a happy, light-hearted sound, it could even be considered a giggle, and it tugged on my thoughts as though part of some distant memory, until I remembered I was mad.
“This is no laughing matter Elliott!”
“Actually, it is.” He giggled again.
Even his laugh was like honey. The wind caught up and the same strange, but oddly familiar floral scent circled around us in the air. I breathed it in deeply, trying to clear my head. Why did he have such an effect on me?
“Okay, if you are real then why hasn’t anyone else s
een you? Hmm?” How dare my mind toy with me when I’m trying to come to terms with reality!
“Because...”
“...you are not real.” I finished his sentence for him, stressing each word.
“You weren’t usually this sassy. I think your current friends are a bad influence on you.”
“Excuse me?” Sarcasm was dripping from my lips. “Mr., I’m real Lil, but only you can see me. What are you, some kind of ghost?”
“It might be easier for you to think of me that way.”
I paused, wary. I hadn’t seen this coming. It took me a moment of looking at Elliott, trying to see through him before I could talk.
“But I can touch you.”
“Yes.”
I was frustrated and fuming. It took all my energy to try and stay calm as I argued with the male model my mind had conjured up.
“I don’t get it. What do you mean it would be easier to think of you that way. Are you a ghost or not?”
“Technically, not.”
“Oh, getting technical are we, because technically YOU ARE NOT REAL!” I got up to leave. Fighting with your own thoughts can be exhausting.
“Lilly, Miele, please sit.” Unfortunately for me and my better judgement, I couldn’t resist his voice. I paced the cove once more before I sat down beside him again. My emotions were tearing me up inside.
“Why do you call me Miele?”
“A better question would be, since you are so convinced that I am a figment of your imagination, how come you don’t know what Miele means?” He smiled a mischievous smile as though he had somehow won a battle.
Damn. He had a point. “I don’t know.”
“Miele means honey in Italian. Where we met.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “In 1719? Um hum.”
“Will you please hear me out Lilly? I am real, I’m just not really here.”
I bit my lip. What should I do? Could Elliott be real? He had a point on the whole “Miele” thing. If he were a figment of my imagination, I should know what that meant.
“Okay. It’s against my better judgement, but since this is only a dream, I’ll play along a bit longer.”
“Miele, you’re not dreaming.”
“If I’m not dreaming, I’m hallucinating.” I crossed my arms. “I refuse to play along if I’m hallucinating.” My fingers drummed on my biceps, anxiously awaiting his rebuttal.
“Okay, we’ll go with dreaming then. Until I can convince you otherwise.” Elliott winked at me. I melted at his smile.
“As long as I’m listening, will you explain the ‘I’m not a ghost but think of me as a ghost’ thing,” I nibbled my bottom lip, “Uhm, please?”
“I bet you’re getting your sass from Nicholas, huh?”
I couldn’t believe it. He was trying to change the subject just like every other time I seemed to get him close to answering me. “Leave him out of this. You say I’m sassy, well you are extremely and annoyingly evasive.”
“Evasive maybe...” he smiled, “but real. I’m not a ghost.”
“You said we met in 1719. You look really good for being almost three hundred years old.” I couldn’t stop the sarcasm from flowing out of my mouth. Elliott was right. I probably did pick it up from Nicholas.
“Are you going to let me explain? Or am I going to constantly get interrupted?”
I put my head down in a shameful stare. He was right. I was being rude. I don’t know what came over me. “I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet.”
“Thank you.” He took my hands in his as we sat there in the starlit darkness. “This is a long story, some of which you might remember, but please let me tell it without interruption.” Elliott laid back on his right arm and pulled me close so that I was cuddled under his left. It felt nice and familiar in his warm embrace. The magnetic electricity flowed freely from him to me. I breathed him in and noticed that the floral scent I kept smelling was coming from him. I shut my eyes and tried to memorize that scent as his honey voice filled the darkness as he began.
“I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you.” He hugged me still tighter as his voice took on a sort of reminiscing quality. “It was spring in Napoli and I was hiding from the rain in the monastery of San Lorenzo Maggiore the first time I saw you. You weren’t hiding from the rain, but were standing in the open cloister, girded by columns, looking up at the dark swirling sky as the raindrops fell upon your face. Your long black hair dripped as you stood with your arms out taking in the simple beauty of falling droplets of water. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You fascinated me. I still remember the smell of the gardenias that surrounded you. I even picked one and placed it in my breast pocket. The rain made the scent so much more pungent. I drank it in along with your beauty.”
This was too unbelievable to be true. And although a huge part of me wanted to believe Elliott and his fantastic story, another part of me was warning of the tremendous danger I would be in if my delusion was starting to make up stories, being delusional himself. I knew that if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was. I sighed and hugged Elliott tighter, trying with all my might to will him into reality. I couldn’t remember ever feeling as happy as I was whenever he touched me and it saddened me to know I couldn’t let this go on forever.
Elliott misunderstood my hug as encouragement and continued on with his story.
“You were completely immersed in the rain. When the bell tower clock started to chime, you jumped slightly as though startled, and that is when you noticed me staring at you from behind one of the columns. I am ashamed to say that I think it offended you that I was watching the intimate intercourse in which the rain seemed to connect with your soul, for you ran. Quite fast I might add, into the room off the cloister that lead to the catacombs. You have always had a strange fascination with death, mia amore.”
Being tucked under his arm, I looked up at his face and noticed Elliott eyed me a furtive glance as he smiled and continued.
“I followed you down the steps into the grey stone chambers below. It was much cooler within the catacombs. The soft sound of the rain above was barely audible. The candlelight cast shadows along the walls, and I couldn’t see which direction you had gone. I wanted so badly to introduce myself and apologize for my rude behavior, but you were nowhere to be seen. I found myself holding perfectly still, barely breathing, trying to hear footsteps, anything that would tell me where to find you.” Elliott looked down at me and winked. “I got lucky.
“A loud clank came from the catacombs to my left, and I still remember how my heart jumped at the prospect of seeing you again. I ran flat out towards that sound. Past dozens of bodies and candles and flowers as I searched for what made the sound. As I searched for you.
“I came to the end of the hall and quickly glancing in the three remaining tombs, I was disheartened when you were not to be found hiding in any of them. But you couldn’t just disappear. I decided to look for a sign, any sign, of where you were hiding. I kept telling myself you couldn’t have gotten out of the catacombs without passing me. I knew you had to be somewhere, but where?
“I reexamined each of the chambers more closely, while of course keeping an ear out for any sound that would indicate your whereabouts. In the first, I found nothing but dead flowers and a handful of half spent candles on the wall. The second was much the same. But on my second glance into the third chamber, I noticed the source of the loud clank. A bronze vase was overturned in the back corner of the tomb. The water and flowers spilled out onto the stone floor. But you were nowhere to be found.
“I took one of the candles off the wall and looked more closely at the dirt of the stone floor for traces of fresh footprints. There were none, but I did notice how very peculiarly the water on the floor was somehow draining into the cracks around one of the stone tiles. Bringing the candlelight closer, I realized that there was no dust on this particular tile either.
“I don’t know what made me do it, curiosity maybe, but I pried up that tile. It was
n’t easy either. The tile was three feet squared and at least two inches thick. But something inside told me I was close to finding you.” Again, Elliott squeezed me tight.
I was fighting back the part of my brain that told me to put this beautiful lie to an end. Instead, I hugged him tighter, drinking in the sensation of energy that emitted from him, the mouth watering floral scent of his skin, and the way his muscular arms held me tight. It frightened me, because I knew deep down I was falling in love with him.
Elliott continued, “Once I had the stone pried up a bit, I noticed that there was a secret passageway hidden beneath it. After I had succeeded in moving the stone, I cautiously took the candle in my hand and tried to see how deep the hole went. The candlelight, however, was not very bright, and I couldn’t see anything at all. I let the candle drop. To my surprise the candle fell only about ten feet and stayed lit. I peered into the hole and could barely make out what appeared to be a few columns in the dim light.
“It was probably not the smartest thing to do, but I dropped myself down into the hole.
“I noticed as I got to my feet that there was a very ancient feel to the place that was only augmented by the appearance. I felt the cool hard marble column nearest me. It was magnificent. I couldn’t see clearly, but there were obviously many other columns around me. I could tell that whatever that chamber was, it was much larger than the little bit I could see in the dim flickering light. But why would someone build something so massive underground? Only when I finally looked around my surroundings again did I see you.
“You were standing, mostly hidden in shadow, by the column nearest me. You seemed offended by my presence. I had obviously insulted you, yet again,” Elliott rolled his eyes, “by following you.
“I gave a bow, and offered you the white gardenia from my breast pocket. You hesitated, but slowly came out of the shadows and accepted it.
“‘I’m Elliott Falcone,’ I said.
“You probably don’t remember, but you weren’t very nice to me. I figured you were just being cautious, and nervous, since some stranger followed you into a hole. You kept asking me to leave. But I persisted. There was something about you. I wasn’t going to leave without at least your name, and hopefully a promise to see you again. Finally, you told me you were called Lillianna. Looking back on that day, I think I really frightened you.” Elliott gave me a squeeze, “Sorry about that. I can be a little obsessive.”