“He has no wish to be your friend, depend upon it,” said William, his voice now cold.
“You do not know him. George is kind, quiet and a perfect gentleman. He struggles to express himself, I think. He reminds me of you in many ways…” Louisa trailed off at the declaration. At this William’s face looked pained. “William, stop. I can feel you telling yourself all manner of things untrue,” she said, that familiar tone of compassion now returning to her voice.
He looked away from her and held his body tightly, as if trying to mentally build a wall around himself.
Louisa approached him and cautiously touched his arm. He flinched. “You did not like seeing me with Mr. Young.”
He would not look at her. “I did not.”
She inched closer to him and said in a voice that was little more a whisper, “I am sorry for it. I look upon him simply as a new acquaintance.”
His eyes were red, his jaw clenched. Louisa observed his struggle with concern. She wondered: What is he not saying? Why does he torture himself so?
“What is this hold you have over me?” he asked his breathing heavy.
The flood gates were finally opening.
“My heart felt as though it had been ripped from my chest when I saw you with him. Suddenly the possibility of you being with another man, any man, dawned on me. I had to push it out of my mind for fear of going mad. And when you turned and walked away with him…Blast it, woman! You win,” he yelled.
She startled slightly and he could see he had upset her. “I am sorry. I should not have raised my voice.” He took her hand and led her to the bed so they could sit. With a sigh, William brought her hands to his lips pressing desperately as if letting go could mean she might disappear.
“I have realized I cannot follow my pride. It pains me and it makes me question my strength as a man to be sure, but it cannot be helped. I adore you.” He looked up at her with a raw openness she had never before witnessed. “I had an epiphany while I watched you today. You teach me what my mother tried to when I was young, though I would not listen. You instruct me on how to remember my goodness. You do this effortlessly. I do not know how you do it, but I know it is in my best interest to remain with you and allow you to work your magic.”
His words were answered prayers and she could feel tears in her eyes. “It is not magic, sir.”
“I believe that it is. I also believe you to be beautiful, exceptionally so.”
She shook her head briefly and moved slightly away from him. “No, not exceptionally,” she said.
“How can you say such a thing? It is my belief.”
“Sir, beauty has never been my burden. I do not believe a woman can be deemed exceptionally beautiful unless it has harmed or held her back in some way. This has not been the case with me.”
William ran his thumbs across her cheeks and kissed her briefly. “I will not argue with you. I did want to say however, that I asked you to believe me and to trust me. That was unfair since I was apparently unwilling to do the same for you. You say you love me; I will believe you. You say we can be happy together and though I know not how that can come to pass, I am willing to let you teach me. Louisa, I will stay with you as long as you will have me. I am at your command.”
She let his words wash over her like a fall of light. Bringing her hands to his face and gently massaged his temples. “You are safe with me, William. I promise you. Everything shall be fine.”
William sighed and surrendered himself to her will. He was vulnerable, which he disliked greatly, but at least he was in her arms.
CHAPTER 33
Ellie
I had to work at the dive shop in an hour so I asked Mrs. Dawes if I could help her while she opened up the store. My real motive was guidance and comfort. It felt like I was a little girl again, helping in the shop and listening to my mentor explain the mysteries of the Universe.
She was the one who made me realize that wisdom is not boastful. True wisdom is gentle and relevant. It comes to us when we are ready to hear it through a conduit we perceive as safe and loving. How many times Mrs. Dawes has been that conduit for me, I think to myself.
I open a box of Vitamin C bottles and begin stocking a display with the caption “Protect Yourself this Cold Season”. Smiling to myself I think about how protected I feel. Ever since I began to witness my lifetime as Louisa I have felt less and less afraid. It is as if there had always been a blanket of love surrounding me and I have just recently reached for it and pulled it tight around me. I had been afraid, but more than that…I didn’t believe that I deserved such a thing. The disbelief kept me quiet, kept me small, kept me suffering.
I was grateful for new beliefs.
Mrs. Dawes is humming “The Rainbow Connection”, the Kermit the Frog song. I smile. She used to sing that to me until one day, when I was twelve, I told her it was a baby song.
“You know, Mrs. Dawes, it’s the funniest thing. I feel Louisa, like you said I would. It’s as though I carry her with me,” I look over at my older friend who is smiling thoughtfully as she crouches on an old milk crate and prices boxes of raisins. “And it’s as though I have her knowledge with me too. She has this feeling about her…like she can see everything: past, present and future. And it’s like I can tap into that. Does that make sense?”
“Of course it does, love. It’s clear that Louisa was incredibly spiritually aware. She’s helping you, Ellie, but don’t forget, she is you. Declan was right. You have everything she had. And what you describe about perceiving the past, present and future all at once makes sense. Time is an illusion anyway. And when you know that, you experience time with its spiritual purpose, healing.”
I consider that for a moment. “So by tapping into this wisdom of Louisa’s I can see that everything is always ok, like everything is happening the way it should? Is that what you mean?”
Mrs. Dawes walks over to me and gently squeezes my shoulders. “You’re getting it. Let Louisa show you. She’s a symbol in your mind of pure, compassionate love. Remember the meditations we used to do when you were little? Try that tonight. Let her take over and help you. We think we have to save the world, Ellie, but really all we need to remember is that there is no world to save. Heaven, indeed love, is all there is. It’s a state of mind…a shift in how we perceive every little thing.”
I hugged her and thanked her. Though I did not yet know what she meant, I had a feeling I would.
Walking along Little Tub Harbour, I thought of Scotland. How alike were the two villages who became namesakes? Was it a random coincidence? A glance at an old map to inspire a name? Then, the cover of a book I had once seen flashes in my mind’s eye. I remember seeing it at the little book store once near the dive shop.
I hear a whisper: Go, it says.
Having a little time before I had to be at work, I decide to stop into the store and check it out. There was a passage I recalled and wanted to read. There was something important in it. Something I needed to know.
Without thinking, I was guided to the shelf of local books and the book nearly fell into my hands: The Bruce Beckons by W. Sherwood Fox. I opened the book, randomly, to this page and read:
“A glance at Tobermory itself will give us at least a partial understanding of its life and importance. Some people call the place a harbour, but they fall short of the truth. Tobermory is two harbours, or rather three. Together the three form two havens…”
I gasped looking up from the book. The three form two havens. Somehow I knew this was about Louisa (me), William (Declan) and Spirit. I then look further down the page and read on.
“Who among its many settlers of Scottish birth or descent gave it its name? Nobody now knows. But whoever he was he must have been a man of Mull…The manifest resemblance so warmed his heart that he could not resist changing its name to something that kept bright every day the memory of his Scottish island home.”
Louisa was with me, guiding my every step. I felt my resistance melting away, and in its place, a
peaceful calm rising to the surface. This feeling may not last forever, but at least now I would recognize it when it returned.
I knew I had to see Declan. There was so much to learn and there was also much to uncover. There was still something about that lifetime with Louisa and William. There were secrets there that needed to be brought to light.
I decide to go to Declan’s tonight and ask him to meditate with me. He may not see what I see, but I want his presence, his love and understanding. I was mildly aware of trepidation at the idea of being alone with Spirit. Not wanting to look at it too deeply however, I brush the thought aside and take out my phone to text Declan.
My hands quiver as I type: I need to see you.
CHAPTER 34
Declan
The image of Louisa is still fresh in my mind as I leave the store. There is a purity of soul about her and yet a naivety that could be her downfall. I sense it. William’s love for her is mine and yet there is a dread that creeps up my spine and implants itself in the back of my mind. It makes me want to protect Ellie.
And there is so much of Ellie in Louisa that it made me want to fade into the vision, rest somewhere in the middle, to experience both women in a dance outside of time.
And again, crazy comes calling.
I prop up the collar of my coat and bury my hands in my pockets. Turning around, I head back down Bay Street to walk along Highway Six. The lighthouse is beckoning. My feet are heavy with resistance, but I tread forth. Every few minutes a car passes, slows a bit, but I’m walking in the wrong direction for hitching a ride. The closer I get to Big Tub Road, the more anxious I feel.
I start to wish I smoked. My hands and mouth feel idle.
And then I think of Ellie and I want to run back to her, throw her up against a wall, devour her lips and neck, wrap her legs around me. I want to push into her, to see how close I can get. I want her breasts pressed against my chest, my hands on her hips and her fingers in my hair. I want to hear her gasping for breath, calling my name, whispering “Oh” and “God” and “Yes”.
As if intent on cooling my desire, the wind picks up and I curse out loud at the chill.
Motherfucking Tobermory.
I turn back. Crazy may be calling, but I’m not answering today.
Ellie
The dive shop remains empty the entire day until ten minutes before closing, when I hear the door chime and someone entering. It’s Tynan.
His eyes are heavy and his face looks sullen, as though he has not slept well. His hands wring the leather strap of his bag and he hangs his head low.
“Hey Ellie, is it ok that I’m here? Are you pissed at me?” he asks.
I want to hug his denim-clad body and kiss his pale cheeks. “No, Tynan, I’m not pissed at you. I could never really be upset with you. I know that you were looking out for me and I really do appreciate it. It was difficult to hear about what happened with Declan.” I look down briefly, getting a flash of Declan falling into rocky water. I wince. “I never want to think about him feeling that sad and desperate again.” I could feel my eyes filling with tears. I remind myself that he is fine. “I thank God you were there. Declan is grateful too, you know.”
Tynan is quiet and keeps his attention on the anti-fatigue mat at his feet. There is something more he wants to say. I am silent, giving him room to consider his words.
Finally, he looks up: “There is something dangerous about him, Ell. It’s like he seriously considers himself a victim. There’s violence in that belief. Whether he takes that out on himself or on another person, it’s still frightening.” He waits for me to say something, but I keep quiet. “All I’m saying is: be careful. I know that you love him. We can all see it. But I meant what I said, Ellie, you can’t save him. Remember that.”
Though I don’t like hearing it, I know Tynan is right. I can only give Declan so much; the rest will be up to him. It pains me to think that I can’t rescue him like I want to, but then I considered how selfish that was. I want him to be well; I want him to be normal so that we can be together.
And then the words Just let go are whispered between my ears.
All of that desire for control has to be given away. In my mind I ask: how?
And then in that moment, I picture myself surrendering it all to Louisa. I ask her to take it and to help me trust her. I have an inkling that none of the pain is really real, that it cannot be.
There is a voice, the same voice that spoke to Louisa that says: Where you cannot feel affection, give it. Where darkness appears, shine light. Where madness seems to reign, offer sweet, sane love.
Recalling that Tynan is still standing in front of me I turn to him and say quietly: “I will. I will remember that.” He looks relieved. I know it wasn’t easy for him to come here. Full of gratitude, I walk out from behind the counter and hug him tight.
“You’re a good friend Tynan. You always have been.” I sigh, readying to broach the one thing we never discuss. “Tynan?”
“Ellie?” he says, mocking me.
I lean back to look up at him. “If you ever want to talk about Guy and what happened in Montreal, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”
He releases me and runs his hand through his hair. Without looking at me he replies, “Two years, Ell and it’s still not long enough. I’m still raw. And that’s all I can say. ‘Time heals all wounds’ is a crock of shit.”
I smile at the sentiment and wince at his pain. “I love you, Tynan.”
“I love you too, Ell. I want to see you safe and happy. That’s all. I promise,” he says genuinely.
I squeeze his hands gently and as I look up into his eyes I get a flash.
It’s in South Africa during a war. It’s the late 1800s. Tynan is a soldier; British I think, short with kind brown eyes and a scar on his cheek. Guy is a woman, a black woman, dressed in old, tattered clothes, but beautiful. They are lovers, but something is wrong. She’s angry with him. Her brother has been killed. It’s raining and she’s screaming. Tynan, the soldier, is trying to console her but she is beside herself with grief and unforgiveness. He ends up walking away. The sadness is heavy and wide, cloaking all in its wake.
“Tell him you’re sorry,” I say.
Tynan looks confused. “Tell who that I’m sorry?”
“Guy.”
He goes white and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. His voice is trapped beneath the fear of reliving a pain he’d rather forget.
“He feels betrayed and he thinks you don’t understand. Tell him that you do and that you’re sorry.”
Tynan backs away from me in disbelief. I tell him what I saw and ask him if history is repeating itself in any way. He nods slowly.
I give him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t quite know what this is or how it works, but it seems like we carry pain with us from one lifetime to the next. I don’t know if the pain is really only from the things that seem to happen to us in life or if it goes deeper than that. I don’t know…”
“You have a gift, Ellie. Man, you have to do something about this!” Tynan is smiling through the tears. Eyes red and shining, he is excited for me.
I release a long-held breath. “I think you’re right.”
I pass Alistair in the hallway as I walk towards Declan’s door. His demeanour is strange, as if he is unhappy with me. I greet him, but he just grunts in reply. I ask him how the dives are going and he mumbles something about the water being too cold.
“Well, it is November. The charters usually stop in October, but Dave made an exception for you guys.” I don’t really want to have a conversation with him when he’s being so odd, but he just keeps standing there.
Finally he speaks. “Listen Ellie, I don’t like all this past-life regression stuff. I don’t think it’s good for Declan or for his state of mind.”
I’m angry. I want to shout at Alistair. What the hell does he know? He wasn’t there! He didn’t see what we saw.
And then a whisper: He’s scared.
O
f course he is scared. He’s worried that his son is going to get worse instead of better and that I might hurt him.
“Alistair, I understand. But I’m seeing a change in him. And I love him, you know. I know it hasn’t been long and that we barely know each other, but it can’t be helped.” I take a step towards him and am struck again by how similar father is to son. “I will watch over him. I promise you, I’ll make sure he’s ok.”
Alistair lets out a quiet, strangled cry. “He’s my boy, you know? It’s excruciating to see him in pain. I want to take it from him and bear it as my own.” His eyes are wet now. “Christ, and now I’m crying.” He wipes at his face with his palm. “Alright, Ellie, I’ll trust you. Be good to him, eh? I need a drink.”
I nod and take one step closer and kiss his cheek. “Go get that drink.”
And as he walks away I see a vision of him twenty years ago with Declan on his shoulders. There was happiness there. There was so much love.
It never really left.
Declan opens the door and immediately pulls me to him. He holds me tight and whispers in my ear: “I almost forgot how pretty you are.” He has a tone of playfulness I don’t ever recall hearing from him before. It lights me up.
“Oh yeah?” I giggle, putting my cold hands beneath his sweater and laughing at his squeals of surprise.
As punishment, he pins me against the wall and kisses me fully, momentarily taking my breath away. I am overwhelmed at his strength and allow myself to succumb to it. There is a blur of touches, kisses and moans. We both drop to our knees and he gently guides me down to the floor. I toss a shoe that found itself beneath me towards the door and bring my hands to his waist. I arch my back to more fully feel his weight upon me. My mind is spinning trying to take in every sensation. His one hand is tangled in my hand as the other caresses my hip.
Without Fear of Falling Page 18