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From the Beginning: The Old World

Page 17

by Kurtz, Timna


  At the same time, it was clear to us both, that the war with my conscience would be no less difficult from the war against the black bird. As Jamila was helping me get up on my feet, she reminded me once more that it would be better for all of us if I would really let go of the past.

  “Connor not remember, what to happen between you and him because past dead. I remind you—past dead! Now it be up to you!” and for a moment it seemed as if Rebecca was the one speaking out of Jamila’s mouth.

  Tears started choking me again, and I hugged her tightly. “It is so good to have you back…” I whispered in between the tears.

  “I tell you—enough with tears, ‘yallah’! (come on). Jamila smiled at me again mischievously, and I knew she understood me, even without the need to explain myself. The sadness that I felt with the passing of Rebecca had vanished when I accepted her spirit sister, Jamila, who would take her place as my personal advisor.

  Despite the grim forecast of the future, her mere presence had filled me with the spirit of hope and renewed determination. I collected my tools from the little plot, and together we walked back to the tribe’s cave, my heart pounding with excitement at the prospect of seeing Connor.

  When we reached the cave, we noticed that the tribe members had gone down to the beach to eat their lunch under the trees in the open air. I encouraged Jamila to join them and promised I would catch up with them later—after I had a short dip in the pool, one I urgently needed.

  I returned to the cave, fresh and relaxed. I went inside, and as my eyes were trying to adapt to the dimness inside coming from the light outside, I bumped into someone.

  “Sorry,” I apologized for the little mishap.

  “No, sorry, I was the one who didn’t hear you come in. Are you alright?” A deep and warm voice, familiar and loved was caressing my ears engulfing all of me, igniting the vibe with such force that for a moment I lost my balance, and became a little lightheaded.

  “I… Yes… I’m fine…” I found myself panting with excitement. I was positive that my pounding heart could be heard throughout the silent cave.

  “Why didn’t you go down to the beach with everyone?” I asked hesitantly. “How are you feeling?” I wondered if he was strong enough.

  “Thank you. I already feel very well,” he used the style of speech I loved so much. “I have been debating with myself all morning whether I should go as well, but each time, something else kept me from going. An inner voice asked me to stay. Now I know why…” he hinted a smile and his grin sent warm tingling currents down my spine, jumpstarting my saliva and sweat glands in my body. I was glad for the darkness of the cave that barely managed to hide my blushing cheeks.

  “I have been meaning to find the opportunity to thank you for all that you have done for me, but since I regained consciousness, you have been absent from the cave most of the time.” He came closer, reaching out his hand for a handshake, wrapping my sweaty palms with his big warm hand. My breathing became heavier as I sensed his beloved touch launching my vibe to a point it was almost deafening.

  “I… Ahh… Ahh… I had to process my medicinal herbs…” I stuttered and evaded the question with an unconvincing excuse, pulling my hand embarrassed from his palm. “The big storm nearly wrecked everything, and I had to replenish the stock…” I continued my apologetic streak while trying to create a reasonable distance between us, so I could catch my breath and lower the intensity of my vibe that in a moment would flow right to him. But to no use. I pulled away, and he came closer, keeping us close, reacting to my vibe that probably caused him to tremble as well.

  “You do not have to apologize,” he spoke quietly, his low voice getting even lower. “Ibrahim explained everything to me. I understand that the encounter with me was probably difficult for you. He told me that we knew each other in the past, but I do not remember any of that. Something that I can only regret, because you are a beautiful and attractive woman. All that you have done here on the island, leading the tribe and taking care of me with such devotion only proves that you are a special woman, above and beyond everyone. I have no way of knowing what happened in the past that separated us—but I must be a complete idiot for giving you up!” His large hand was already caressing my face, his magical touch numbing my senses, my eyes closing with pleasure as I was giving in to the pleasure of his closeness.

  His thick thumb brushed against the delicate skin under my eyes and his other hand joined in, covering my other cheek with the same touch. My hands rose on their own, resting on his, bringing them closer to my face and a deep moan came loose from my throat as I melted, his lips fluttered on mine, and his breathing grew heavy as well.

  “I do not know what the nature of our relationship was—” his deep voice was thickened with passion— “but I cannot remember ever being so attracted to someone, with such intensity!” His green eyes embedded in mine when I opened them to hear his desirable words. His clear gaze was cutting through, drilling into my soul, and halting my breath.

  Time stood still with my hand moving silently, pouring the vibe from me onto his lips that I caressed slowly, feeling their familiar softness, setting my reawakened emotions free, flowing to him through the electrifying touch that was at the tips of my fingers.

  He took hold of my hands. He kissed the soft mounts at the root of my palms, sending an electrifying current of his own. His eyes did not leave mine when his other hand took me closer, pinning me to him, sensually grabbing my waist. His face came closer until his nose touched mine, his forehead pinned to my forehead, and his lips were gliding all over my face. His warm breath hovered over my eyelids, inhaling my scent and my breath that became even heavier, to a point I could no longer breathe—and in that moment, his lips touched mine. The entire universe was swallowed and gone, and the sun was shining in me.

  I dove into the deep blue sea when his kiss deepened, his fingers burrowing into my hair, my flesh, his arms wrapped around me, his tongue sweetening mine, entirely conquering me, dissolving himself into me, fusing his skin to mine, magnetizing his heart to my heart.

  His lips toured all of me, leaving no spot un-kissed.

  I was completely soaked with sweat, dripping love juices, and he was licking and suckling on me as if sipping passionately from God’s nectar. I couldn’t tell if he was in front or in back of me as it felt as if he was engulfing all of me when he gently penetrated me, pouring himself into me, merging with my body into one entity of love and passion…

  My head was spinning, and I was out of breath. The cave around me grew blurry as the vibe in me exploded, tearing me apart, and I sank into oblivion, into that sweet pool of love. I floated, passed out, between past and present, hearing Connor’s whispers of love in my ears, sowing hopes for a bright future…

  * * *

  Chapter 31

  “Take a look, this is my son Sam,” Connor pulled out a little photo from his wallet, showing his only child, about seven or eight years of age, with his gentleness reflected well in the picture.

  “You always knew you would have a boy like this, right?” To anyone else this question might seem odd, but not to Connor. He looked at me with wonder, his clear gaze gleaming with a wide smile.

  “This is unbelievable! Since this child was born, I tried to find this exact phrase! This is how I tried to describe the feeling I had all these years!” He was ecstatic from my keen observations.

  I smiled back, excited as well. “He has the same clear look like yours,” I pointed out another detail I clearly noticed. He gave me his pleased look and grin in return when again I identified an important point.

  “You know—this is simply amazing!”

  “We are sitting here—”

  “Barely an hour—”

  “We spoke for the first time—”

  “Last night—”

  “And it feels as if—”

  “We have known each other for at least a year!” We completed each other’s sentences.

  “I would correct only one s
mall thing…” He sent his arm towards the bottle of red wine and refilled our glasses—

  “We have not known each other for just a year—”

  “We have known each other all our lives!—”

  “And I would add to that, that we know each other—”

  “From another life…” We toasted, our eyes embedded in each other. The magical summer night air was scented with the aroma of bloom, and little candles decorated the romantic setting in the courtyard of my little home. It seemed as if little fairies were directing this show, floating around us like fireflies, dusting the air with magical powder, embroidering a new love story for us like in the fairytales—or at least the fairytales I was spinning in my head.

  After all the years of searching and eliminating, a figure of a man with characteristics like that and more that I had hoped to find in my ideal partner slowly formed. My failed marriage only sharpened the ‘suit’ that was tailored over the years, and now fit Connor’s measurements to perfection by the contents, shared interests, and life experiences.

  It seemed we’d been through the same experiences and received the same insights. The high sense of spirituality, and even the mysticism, had created a perfect match between his world and mine.

  In addition, his clear green eyes were looking deeply into my soul in such a way I’d divert my eyes with embarrassment, fearing he would read my awakened feelings for him too easily, feelings that were getting stronger by the minute.

  His voice was low and deep—something that especially attracted me—but his vocal depth was also connected to a very special emotional and mental depth. When he spoke, I listened with enthusiasm, being pulled into his words, listening with thirst to his stories about his world and his life. When he listened to me, he made me feel as if there was no one but me in the whole universe and that his entire attention was focused solely on me.

  Very quickly we started reading each other’s thoughts. It happened when I went in to check on Idan who was sleeping in his bed, and as I was covering him with a light blanket I thought to myself how much I wanted to be in Connor’s arms already.

  When I came back to the porch, I saw he had arranged a few pillows on the mat and lay down comfortably. I smiled and was glad he displayed how at ease he was around me. It was a sign for me that he felt exactly as I did. Our connection was so strong and right that I wasn’t bothered in the least that it was our first date and that I had just left my home and separated from my husband. I didn’t remember the proper courtship rules or the acceptable etiquette between a man and a woman. I reacted directly to the vibrating currents of the sensations that were all around me.

  “Come, I fixed you a spot right here beside me; cuddle with me,” he leaned on his elbow, resembling a sheikh or a king.

  “How did you know I wanted a hug?” I asked, still smiling as I was settling next to him. When I lay my head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around my back and shoulders, lightly stroking my hair, and his other hand gently brushed my hand that was resting on his chest, still not knowing where it should progress to.

  “How did I know? Hmmm… I simply felt it…” he hummed, bettered his hug around me and kissed my forehead. A few magical hours passed, when most of the time I was listening, bewitched by his stories about his childhood and his youth, his travels and studies, and different strange adventures, with his deep warm voice enchanting me, carrying me away.

  We returned to the subject of mysticism when we talked about our spiritual experiences with our children. Once more, he described in my ears the special relationship with his son, how they could feel each other from a great distance, and I felt that I knew his child from another life too.

  After which I told him of a special mystical experience that happened to me, of a little girl with golden locks that foretold her arrival in my life even before I became pregnant with my son, but three days before she vanished, she informed me that I wasn’t ready for her yet. “She wanted the right father, and my ex-husband wasn’t the right man. But she would come back to me, so she made clear. I could really hear her saying to me: I am saying goodbye—but we are together now… and that she would return when the time is right. She even told me her name! Libby. That will be her name—Libby—and she will have a kind and generous heart…” I told him my weird story, knowing that he would accept it without ponder or brow lifting. Maybe this story was a big clue to my mystical abilities? But long months were still to pass in my life, a child, divorce and a global catastrophe, for me to realize and share my gift and skills with the world, even now that it was all flooded with water…

  “Hmmm… Libby… I love that name…” he rolled the name on his tongue with delight, and it looked as if he was implying that he would not object at all to being her father. Suddenly I felt that indeed this is how it would be! The same way I couldn’t explain the whole story about Libby rationally, so was this sudden clear feeling! Connor would be Libby’s father! Who else if not him?! This rare connection has a purpose. This would not be another romantic affair that starts with enthusiasm but ends with a faint cry. No! This time, it would be different.

  So I promised myself when I walked him to his car at dawn. Although passion almost carried us away, he had to go home, but he could barely tear himself from me.

  Shaking from the cold or fatigue, but mainly from excitement, I lay in my bed trying to sleep for a short hour before I had to get up for work, running the last few hours through my mind, the most magical hours I’d ever known, and I knew that this time I would be able to complete the mission I had assigned to myself. I’d already learned all the patterns, understood the failures that brought about the end of my marriage. I dug deep and explored every little aspect of me, leaving no stone unturned. I reopened all the old wounds for the purpose of healing them all over again—this time without the scars. It was a hard, long and painful process, but cathartic that at the end of which I was standing on my own two feet again—an independent woman, living in a small home, raising my child on my own and starting to fulfill myself.

  The days flew by. Our talks deepened our relationship and sense of connection, but together with that, I felt the strong powers that flowed between us brought on opposite outcomes in our lives. At some point, I even went as far as asking him not to let the magic between us fade. He was entranced by my special request, but the seeds of doubt and fear were already planted within him.

  I had opened myself up to the world again. After years of being in a secluded relationship, I started applying all the lessons I had learned and internalized, and the signs of change were showing well in every part of my life. In other words—I had bloomed!

  Creativity was abundant and flowing out of me and my home had filled up with paintings and art I had created myself. I started operating courses for children again and took a short course once a week for a few hours. I was able to connect at almost any given moment to the wonderful sensation in my heart and feel Connor even from a great distance.

  But unfortunately, what I sensed from him was mainly his fears that had awakened to confuse his pure feelings for me. Although he said nothing about it, I could feel in his voice and his many hesitations prior to each encounter. When he finally came for a visit, the fears and misgivings he had would subside and he was carried away into the intensity and charm of our reunion that left no room for doubt as to the nature of the relationship we could have.

  But only in my own heart there was no doubt.

  Connor started withdrawing within. He watched me bloom, and couldn’t avoid the personal frustration that saw him through most of his adult life, for not fulfilling his calling. We had discussions on this feeling of his many times and of the fact that he should look into the matter. It was obvious to both of us that he had a rare connection with kids and that he could do wonders working with them. But the better we knew each other, so did more and more doubts and hesitations he had came to light that prevented him from making meaningful steps towards realizing his dreams.

  It w
as painful for me to hear him like that and to see him pull away each time I shared a new and additional progress in my life. Slowly an irreconcilable gap was created between us. His visits became scarce and the distance between us became a high-ranking excuse for “Why wasn’t I able to get to you today/yesterday/this week, etc…” and he was still unable to share his true feelings with me. We addressed almost every issue, talked, and shared—but the issue of his growing frustration that had threatened to hasten the inevitable demise of our relationship.

  It happened early winter, when I dared to bring the problem to the surface. Connor showed an immediate objection, strongly rejecting my point, finally pulling out a surprising new argument and slammed it straight to my face. He accused me with lies that had never existed, unleashing without merci the reason he chose to pull away from me. Now, with all the cards on the table, there was no point in continuing to hide things, so he claimed insultingly. I didn’t know what to say. For a few moments, I couldn’t even speak. I was overwhelmed by the pathetic argument he had chosen to use to cover up his fears and frustrations.

  “If this is what really bothers you, then maybe it’s best if you leave…” I finally said quietly, well aware that entering a full fronted confrontation at this point would do me no good. Connor was too far gone with his frustration and too far away from me in his heart, which was filled with fear.

  I knew no explanation would be satisfactory, and I didn’t want to seem defensive or give excuses. My silence only made him angrier. He, who probably only wanted to argue and lock horns, stormed out of my house slamming the door behind him. His last words before he disappeared painfully echoed within the walls of my home: “I don’t want to ever hear from you again! I want you to wipe out anything to do with me, and never ever contact me!”

  How would I erase him from my heart, when his prints were so clearly embedded, peeking around every corner of my life? How could I forget the man I had known whose fate was intertwined with mine, with the knowledge of us meeting again still nesting in my heart, knowing we still had a lifetime together? How would I wipe out the memory of a man that, thanks to him, I had finally learned to love and accept myself?

 

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