Tell Me I'm Dreamin'

by Eboni Snoe

  Basil flicked the ashes from his cigarette, then inhaled until the tip glowed red. You cannot trust those women at all, he thought. He knew that from firsthand experience. Basil seethed with lust and jealousy as he imagined what would happen next on the warm sand beneath Ulysses and Nadine.

  Ulysses had always been able to attract women. All his life females flocked to him, and although Basil had never heard of him mistreating them, he knew none of them held a special place in his life. But Basil believed Ulysses’ feelings for Nadine were different. It was the way he looked at her while they danced. The way he held her. And if that was true—Basil’s cynical smile caused the cigarette to hang down—he would use those feelings, Ulysses’ weakness, to his advantage during their meeting tomorrow. After that Ulysses’ mind would be too occupied with other matters to take care of that hot African-American of his. Basil chuckled smugly. So actually I will be doing him a favor when I approach her. From what I have seen tonight, it will not matter to her if it is me or Deane between those slender thighs. It never matters to women like Nadine Clayton. To them one man is just as good as another. It is in their blood.

  He took another slug from the flask of rum and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Basil’s mind drifted to his last escapade in the workers’ neighborhood, and his initial reaction was to make another visit there tonight. But soon he changed his mind, deciding to save his fervor for Miss Clayton. Maybe after I finish with her, I’ll offer her to Rodney. Although by then she probably will not be in the mood for anyone else, and knowing Rodney, he would not want my leftovers anyway.

  His drunken features registered a frown of disgust as he thought of his sissified brother, who preferred to hide behind Melanie’s skirts. Basil remembered the first and last time he had ever taken Rodney with him to the neighborhood. He had thought Rodney was old enough to share a real man’s pleasure. But he had been wrong. Rodney began to plead for him to stop long before the Black wench began to whimper with pain. By the time it was over Rodney’s manhood was limp as a rag, and he was vomiting in the corner of the little shack.

  No, I will not waste time with Rodney, Basil thought as he looked out at the dark beach. The African, Nadine, will be all mine.

  Nadine closed the heavy oak door behind her and stood with her head resting against its strength. Her body ached for Ulysses, and if it had not been for his last words of wisdom, she would have given herself to him by now.

  Immersed in thought she lit the lamp on the wall, and light sauntered forth in the dark room. She decided not to bathe in the large sunken tub tonight. It would be too much, reminding her of when she first actually saw Ulysses, nude, emerging from behind the huge statue of Poseidon. He himself like an ancient god. His muscular body slick with water. His inky curls plastered to his head. No. Nadine knew if she ventured beyond her bedroom door tonight, there would be no way she would not go to Ulysses.

  She removed the cotton smock and poured some water from a pitcher into a matching basin. The cool water felt soothing as she splashed it on her face. She stroked her neck as the water trickled down her throat until her hand rested on the smooth stone tablets. This was a night for decisions.

  Nadine paced inside the bedroom, thinking of the time she had spent with Ulysses and how the man and the island had touched her. No matter what decisions Nadine made tonight, she knew she would never be the same. She thought of the cliff dwellers, the necklace, and Madame Deane. Somehow the eccentric woman was the only one who had connected her with the cliff dwellers and the Legend of Lenora. How had she known?

  Nadine walked over to the bed and removed the animal skin Madame Deane had forced upon her several weeks ago. At the time she had dismissed it as part of the woman’s fantasies, but now she wasn’t so sure.

  With willed calm Nadine unrolled the goatskin cloth. Inside she found two worn papyri covered with the hieratic characters of Mu, the petroglyphs carved on her necklace. But along with that were several pieces of paper written entirely in English. She stared at the words written at the top. The Legend of Lenora. It was obviously an interpretation of the hieroglyphics! Stunned, she sat down with it in her hands, her eyes quickly sweeping the page. Nadine wondered who could have interpreted the writing. But the question was soon forgotten as she began to read the story.

  Thousands of years ago, Lenora lived on the now-sunken continent of Lemuria, during a time when one had to do no more than think of what he or she desired and it would be. Food, clothing, precious stones, water, it did not matter. Honoring the earth, Gaia, and tapping into one’s emotions was the key to the Lemurian power. The Lemurians felt closest to the Goddess, although they believed in the trilogy of God/Goddess/All There Is. It was a magical time, and happiness abounded amongst the people.

  Lenora was no different from the Lemurians in that respect, but she was physically different. Her eyes were a brownish-jade amongst a sea of dark-brown. Verda, the head seer, had been consulted when she was born, and she simply advised Lenora’s mother to love her all the more because of her uniqueness. Verda prophesied that one day, Lenora would play a very important role in the rebirth of the Lemurian culture on Gaia, and the return of the Goddess.

  The Lemurians knew they were not the only people in the world. Others lived on the opposite side of the great water. In some ways the Others were more technologically powerful and advanced than they were, and they did not honor the Goddess. The Others believed intellect and logic were the main properties of God, so they confined themselves to those properties. This knowledge did not frighten the Lemurians. Their lives were so fulfilled they gave the Others little thought. The Lemurians simply hoped the lives of the Others were as fulfilled as their own.

  By the time Lenora approached womanhood there had been several earthquakes on the continent during which Gaia shook and shifted, each quake greater than the previous occurrence. The Lemurians realized the earthquakes were the result of the Others’ technological experiments without concern for Gaia, and that Gaia, an extension of the Goddess herself, would not tolerate it much longer.

  The Lemurians began to live in fear because the Goddess had not stopped the Others, and their faith in her lessened. Their decline in faith was manifested in a waning in their capability to materialize their needs and desires, and the times became hard.

  Eventually, Verda warned the Lemurians of a great earthquake to come. It would be the last, and it would sink the continent of Lemuria. She told them they would have to leave their island home if they hoped to survive.

  Preparations were made. In order for them to muster up the resources it would take for the long journey they knew lay ahead, the group worked together to manifest their needs. Lenora and her mother left Lemuria along with thousands of others. Some took their large watercrafts to the east and some to the west. They traveled for months and over time; many watched their loved ones die under horrid conditions. Lenora was one of them; her mother died before they reached land. Although they believed in reincarnation, the sorrow they felt was overwhelming, and they thought the Goddess had forgotten them.

  By the time Lenora’s group reached an uninhabited shore that would welcome them, Verda, the seer, was dying. But before she passed away she gave Lenora a glimpse into her past and her future. She told Lenora that unknown to her mother, and through their technology, she had been seeded by the Others. The proof was in her brownish-jade eyes. Then Verda told her that thousands of years in the future, another who looked like her would be born. Deep inside, this woman would house her memories and it would be like she had been reborn. This woman would be important to the reemergence of Mu. She would travel to a distant land. Lemurian descendants who still remembered would be waiting for her. In that distant land, she would be thrust in the middle of turmoil, and ill will would sprout like mushrooms in a field. But, the seer promised, if need be, she, Verda, would be there.

  The last thing Verda told her was, “Lenora, you are the bringer of light, the message, and so is the one to come. There must be th
e consumption of the dark by the fiery light before the God and Goddess can reunite to make All That Is. The Dark has been allowed so that the Light could emerge brighter. It will be like the balancing of a scale, the payment of a debt. The one to come will be united with a man—”

  Nadine turned the page with trembling fingers, but there was nothing else; the last page was missing.

  Nadine did not know what to think or how to feel. She was stunned by the strange tale of Lenora whose eyes were the same color as her own, and by the prophecy. She stared at the uneven edges where a page used to be.

  Was this the missing page that drove Madame Deane to ransack the library? If so, why was the story in her possession? And what did she mean when she said time was running out? Nadine scanned back through the legend, her mind in overdrive. Who was the man mentioned in the prophecy? Could it be Ulysses?

  Shaken to the core, she put the book back behind the bed. But Nadine knew the vision, Madame Deane, the cliff dwellers, the necklace, and now this story all warned of something that she inexplicably felt was part of her. A part of her had wanted to deny it, but another part, the one who dreamed and longed to know about her roots in the Caribbean, had always known. It was the part that was determined to accept Nadine’s unusual destiny.

  Nadine’s hand went up and touched the cross that she always wore, even beneath the cliff dwellers’ tablets. Everything comes from God. Grandma Rose’s words echoed in her mind as she got into bed. She embraced those words with all of her heart, for at that moment she felt if she did not believe them, she would be doomed to hell with all those who worshipped God/Goddess/All There Is.

  It was a long time before Nadine was able to fall asleep. Her mind played tricks on her whenever she managed to drift off into a light slumber. Over and over again the last part of the vision seemed to surface, each time coming closer and closer to revealing the man’s face. Then the flames would come, bringing illumination. But that was always followed by a wrenching scream.

  Chapter 21

  It was late afternoon before Ulysses was able to join Nadine in the hall. Catherine had told her more problems with the workers had erupted, and so it was a preoccupied Ulysses who entered the room, a troubled look dominating his features.

  “I hope things are going better in here than what I’ve been dealing with out there,” he said, not bothering to say hello.

  Nadine overlooked his abruptness. She knew it was not meant for her, and that it was a byproduct of the workers’ strike that started earlier that morning. “Yes, I heard all about it from Catherine.” Her eyes caressed him from across the room.

  She wanted to go up to him and hold him, but from the look on his face a hug was one of the last things on his mind. Instead she began to give him a report of her morning activities. “I’ve just about completed everything. I used the prices we came up with yesterday. I also did some comparing and calculating. Here are the final results.” Nadine passed Ulysses the notepads. She stood beside him as he checked off each item.

  “Master Ulysses.” Catherine’s hesitant voice interrupted them. “Basil Sharpe is here to see you,” she announced from the doorway.

  “Basil?” Ulysses’ thick eyebrows went up. “This is a rare surprise.” He quickly concluded Basil’s ill-timed arrival was connected with the workers’ strike. Perhaps he had come to gloat over his plight.

  Ulysses thought of his empty fields. He would have employed the cliff dwellers but the time of their spiritual ceremonies had come, and he knew they would not be able to work. “Alright, tell him to wait for me in the library,” he replied. “I will be there in a moment.”

  Ulysses resumed his rapid evaluation of the prices, but Nadine could feel his thoughts were not totally there. She could not help but feel a little disappointed that Ulysses did not mention their evening together. He made no reference to what they had spoken of before leaving one another the night before. He didn’t even ask if she had come to a decision. Nadine did not see a trace of the impetuous Ulysses with whom she had spent the evening on the beach. It was like it had never happened.

  “Everything looks to be in order.” Ulysses returned the pads to her. “If you need me I’ll be available in the library once Basil has left.”

  “Alright,” she said quietly as she thought, He has forgotten about last night. It was not important to him.

  He turned to walk away, but before Ulysses passed through the door he turned toward her. “And Nadine?”

  “Yes?”

  “I have not forgotten.”

  Nadine’s mouth formed a tremulous smile, and her hazel eyes deepened in hue as she looked at him. “I’m glad,” she replied.

  Ulysses’ attitude took a turn for the worse as he opened the library door and found Basil casually eyeing the paperwork on his desk. Knowing he had been caught in the act, Basil made no pretense. Instead, he slowly made his way to the opposite side of the desk, and plopped down in a large cushioned chair, crossing his legs with great pomposity.

  Ulysses’ already dark complexion seemed to dim even further as he crossed the room with brisk steps, refusing to greet Basil as a guest since he did not have the decency to act like one.

  “What do you want, Basil?”

  “Why, Ulysses,” he feigned offense, “it has been such a long time since we have seen one another and talked. I thought we could at least catch up on what has been happening in our lives, and with Sharpe Hall and Sovereign.” He smiled his most superior smile.

  Ebony eyes pinned Basil to his chair as Ulysses gave him an insulting look. “There have been only three occasions that you have set foot in this house that I know of. For my seventh birthday, the day your father died, and today. Three visits in twenty-five years.” Ulysses paused to emphasize his point. “So do not tell me this is a social call. You have never liked me, and I have never liked you. So let us keep the record straight.” He leaned over the desk. “Now, like I said, what do you want, Basil?”

  Basil sat quietly, examining the large ring on his finger. His first impulse was to blurt out everything just to knock the stinking, mixed bastard off his pedestal. Ulysses had always been too high and mighty. Then all of a sudden a feeling of satisfaction coursed through his veins as he thought about the situation at hand. This time we are going to play the game my way, he thought. Basil forced his angry feelings to subside. I am going to see Ulysses squirm before I leave here. I am going to roast him over the pit slowly, until I see him sweat and then scream with pain.

  “There is no need to be so hostile, Ulysses. I understand the pressure you have been under with your workers striking, but that does not mean you have to act like a savage. Or is it simply in your blood?” His eyes turned beady with hatred.

  “From what I hear, Basil, you are the biggest savage on Eros. I understand you cannot get it up without seeing blood, or if it is a man, his drawing yours.”

  Basil’s face turned pasty. He was not proud of what he did with the women in the neighborhood, and he knew some of the workers talked about it among themselves, especially if he had been unusually fervent. But how did Ulysses know about Eric? He had been so careful to keep his rendezvous with him a secret.

  Stunned by Ulysses’ knowledge of his sadistic bisexual escapades, Basil’s anger overflowed. His eyes were much too bright when he looked at Ulysses across the desk. Ulysses greeted him with a cold, disgusted stare.

  “You dirty mixed bastard,” he spat. “You think you are so much, don’t you? You and Sovereign. The Protector of Eros’ Treasures.’” A derisive laugh rose out of him. “Well, I hope you are selling enough of your treasures day after tomorrow, because if you do not, half of Sovereign’s sugarcane fields will belong to me. To Sharpe Hall. Do you understand that?” Basil gloated in hearing the words spoken out loud. “While your withered-up aunt was so busy spreading her legs for my father back in the good old days, he managed to draw up some papers showing that Sovereign had to pay Sharpe Hall back all the money he spent to help bring this place back up to pa
r. Your father and his stinking Egyptian wife let the place go down so bad, it was the only way my father could save it. I guess you people are simply irresponsible. The proof being you also allowed the taxes to get behind.” Basil wallowed in the vengeful words. “Yes, I know all about it. That is why you are having this book sale. To pay the taxes on Sovereign. Well, Master Ulysses,” Basil’s eyes burned with disdain, “now the time has come for Sovereign to pay its debt to Sharpe Hall as well.”

  Ulysses’ voice, like a snake preparing to strike, was deceptively calm when he spoke. “You are lying. My father never would have allowed Sovereign’s upkeep to fall behind. Henry Sharpe never spent a dime on Sovereign. If anything, he stole from this estate.”

  “That is not what the ledger says. It is an account of all the money my father spent on Sovereign, and your aunt signed the paper sealing the debt.” With that Basil tossed a folded piece of paper on Ulysses’ desk.

  Ulysses made no move to retrieve it.

  Beside himself with pleasure, Basil pressed his position even further. “You do not have to read it if you do not want to. But it is all there. So if you have any money left after paying your taxes, just pass it all over to me, because if you do not pay the debt to Sharpe Hall by next Monday, half of Sovereign’s sugarcane fields will be mine.”

  Basil rose from the chair, pretentiously dusting lint from his black suit. “And by the way, Miss Clayton has become a pretty interesting player in this. You can throw her sexual services in for good measure. I believe she would be eager to oblige.”

  Basil looked up to assess the damage done by his last barb. In seconds he saw Ulysses’ countenance change from hatred to pure fury as he leapt across the desk, placing steely fingers ‘around Basil’s throat.