by Kris Calvert
“Are you Italian?”
“I’m lots of things.”
“Are you a superhero? Because last night it seemed like maybe you were.”
He gave me a puzzled look.
“Seriously? You know exactly what I’m talking about. What happened last night? I’m not crazy, Mike. I sat with you inside Cortland’s and I saw you walk into that burning car and pull the boy out. I watched the car explode around you and yet somehow, no one else saw it.”
He regarded me briefly. “Do you usually see things others don’t?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Indriel.”
I looked down to my pasta. I’d never felt so safe. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to come clean. I’d spoken of it three times in my life and I was about to make it four. “You mean Spirit.”
He stared at me but said nothing. I felt compelled to continue. “When I’m with my patients and they’re crossing over I see Spirit. I see the white light that fills the room, I feel the warm glow they bring with them to escort their loved ones to the other side. I see them and they see me. Spirit even touched my hand yesterday when George crossed over.”
He smiled at me and just like my dream, he lit up my heart and I felt a rush of warm light all over my body. There was no worry, no pretense, and no judgment. I could say whatever I wanted and I knew before I began it was okay. It was expected. “What is it that you do to me? Is this love?”
“Have you been in love?”
“I don’t think so. Is this what it feels like? Because I want to tell you everything, I want to know everything. I want you inside my head and my heart. I’m babbling but I can’t help it. I’ve been bottled up my whole life. No one else is like me.”
He smiled again and my heart raced. “Please tell me what’s going on. Am I crazy? Because if this is how you feel when you’re nuts, no wonder so many people go there.”
“You’re aware.”
“Who are you and where did you come from?”
“I told you. I’ve always been around.”
I was entranced by his rugged beauty and captivated by his charms. I looked at his exposed arm and counted the stars tattooed there. I watched his muscle flex as he brought the wine to his mouth and focused on the dragon at the top of his arm. The monstrosity was red with seven heads, all with golden crowns.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“Answers.” I said the word but I really didn’t want answers. Sitting with Mike gave me an omniscient feeling. It was as if I knew the answers to my own questions and yet there was no need to ask because none of it mattered. “I want to know, but I feel like I know. Ya know?”
“Yes.”
“If I said that to my shrink he’d just ask me another question. The most preposterous thing just came out of my mouth and you understood it.”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you show yourself to the crowd last night? When you saved the boy?”
“I was only there for three people.”
“The kids?”
He nodded.
“Wait, you said three. Who else were you there for?”
When he looked at me with his blue eyes my world stopped. I could see everything in those eyes—everything and yet nothing at all. “You,” he replied.
“How were you taking care of me? You barely spoke to me.”
I leaned into the tiny table and touched his hand. White light enclosed the space around me and I melded into another realm of life constructed of pure love. Looking to him I wanted to embrace him, fill my body with his love and light.
I stood and he followed as he leaned in and slowly brushed his lips across my forehead. I dropped my head back, inviting him and the light surrounding us into my soul. He pulled me close and I felt a rush through my body. It was a mix of a rollercoaster dropping from its highest peak, a warm hug and a gooey cookie—exciting, comforting and delicious.
Our bodies entwined, we backed away from the table and ran into the bed. Crashing onto the mattress I pulled him down with me as I gripped his shirt in my hands. “You make me feel drunk,” I confessed as he caressed my face and stroked my hair.
“Indriel, you are a beautiful light on earth. A lily among thorns. You are majestic as the morning sky—glorious as the moon and blinding as the sun.”
“Say you’ll never leave me,” I begged as I kissed his lips. “Say you’ll never leave.”
“I’ve never left you, Indie.”
He folded me into his body as he rolled me onto my side, wrapping his arms tightly around my frame. I’d never felt so whole. I’d never felt so perfect.
I awoke as Mike placed my limp body on the bed. I looked around and realized I was in my own home but I had no recollection of arriving. It was dark outside and I noticed the clock next to my bed read 9:09.
“How did we get here?” I asked as he covered me with a quilt.
“I brought you here.”
“Why? How did you know where I–”
He smiled at me and kissed my forehead. I felt complete throughout my body and soul. This was love. I’d never been more certain of anything in my life.
I rolled over and as I heard the front door close, a clap of thunder shook my tiny house. And for the first time in as long as I can remember I slept like a baby.
The rays of the early morning crept through the blinds in my bedroom and sprayed sunshine across my face. With a smile I stretched and rolled to my side—my body and mind renewed. I’d slept so well I felt like I could run a marathon. Sitting up, I looked around the room. There was only one thing on my mind. Mike.
Where was he? Why wasn’t he by my side? My smile quickly turned to panic. I crawled out of bed and padded to the bathroom—my elation short lived. I took a look in the mirror and found my usual dark circles nonexistent. I started the water and pulled the old shower curtain around the tub, waiting for it to warm up.
Climbing in, the hot water rushed over my body. It felt amazing and I took my time washing my hair and soaping up in my favorite shower gel. The flower smell made me smile, and I thought back to my night with Mike. Just the image of his face in my mind made me tingle all over with love. I turned off the water and stepped out of the tub and into my robe, twisting my long dark hair into a towel.
I walked into my closet and picked out a sundress to wear for the day. It was Saturday—I had no patients and I had no plans. I hoped if I packed a picnic and headed to my spot I’d find Mike waiting for me.
I dried my hair and put on a fresh face with just a hint of rouge and mascara and danced out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to look for the makings of sandwiches. When I saw that the refrigerator was bare I laughed at myself and went back to the closet to find some sandals so I could make a run to the grocery for supplies.
I nearly skipped into the front room of the house at the thought of seeing Mike again and stopped in my tracks. It was filled with red roses—every table, every inch of floor space, everywhere I looked—red roses.
“Mike,” I said with a gasp. I walked into the room and the smell was overwhelming and then I saw it. The center coffee table was empty with the exception of three things: a stack of papers, one red apple and a note from the desk of David Thornbury.
Welcome to the family. DT
NINE
“Have you now sunk to letting strangers into my home?” I asked immediately as Jonathan answered his phone.
“Baby, I hit rock bottom years ago during an unfortunate quickie at a questionable club in New York City. Letting your hot billionaire boss into your house so he can leave a shit ton of roses with your contract wasn’t even close to being shady for me.”
“Nice.”
I sat and stared at the stacks of paper on the table.
“I have to go and you have a contract to sign and after that, for God’s sake, go buy something expensive.”
“Whatever. Bye.” I dropped the phone on the couch next to me and decided t
o take a closer look. The two contracts were marked in a couple of places. The first was where to sign—the other was marking a section in the contract. I turned to the page and found where Thornbury had amended my salary to three hundred thousand—the number he’d used when trying to bargain with me to leave my position. But why?
There was a note to initial the section and a place to sign on the final page.
I picked up the red apple and rolled it through my fingers. I hadn’t even noticed what was sitting underneath it—a new iPhone.
Running my hands across the smooth black surface I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a properly functioning phone. I giggled a little as I held it, pulling the Post-it note off the box. We’ve transferred your number to this phone. Your old one will be dead at noon today.
“I have a new phone.” I sang the words as I touched the shiny screen in the palm of my hand. It was the first sign that I was actually going to make it out of debt before I was fifty. The relief was a welcome change to the usual cringes I felt. It would be fun to pay bills for once knowing I had the money to cover them. I was giddy with excitement.
I spied a black fancy fountain pen that had been left by the papers. “That’s convenient,” I said with a smile. Pulling off the cap I was surprised at the weight of the old writing instrument. I initialed the change and signed my name. Leaning back into the old couch I sighed with relief. First I’d met Mike and now I had a new job that would allow me to live my life free from worry. Everything was perfect.
My instructions were to place one copy of the contract in the brown expander file, leaving it on my doorstep. A courier would pick it up. It seemed easy enough. I mentally made my picnic list for the grocery to take to the park as I straightened the contract to fit into the folder. The crisp white pages were printed on heavy paper and as I slid my hand down the side, the contract bit me.
“Shit!” The cut on my right middle finger stung as I dropped the papers. I shoved the injured digit in my mouth and tasted the saltiness of blood as it immediately began to throb.
I pulled it out and examined it closely. The slit was straight down the middle of my finger pad. It oozed red and expelled the tiniest droplet of blood onto the papers below. Rushing to the kitchen I yanked a paper towel from the holder and wrapped my finger, compressing it tightly. I glanced at the clock, it was almost eleven. I wanted to get to the grocery and be at my tree with lunch by noon.
I dropped the paper towel dotted with blood into the waste can and rushed to the bathroom. Opening the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink, I found a Superman Band-Aid and quickly brushed the excess blood away with a tissue before wrapping the caped crusader around my middle finger.
I shut the cabinet and took a look at myself one more time to check my makeup. I didn’t wear a whole lot or very often, but when I did I tended to overuse the rouge. I wanted to look fresh-faced and not like a clown.
Rubbing the pink into my cheeks, something in the mirror caught my eye and I immediately zeroed in on the tub—filled with water.
With a gasp I turned and found it empty, the showerhead still dripping from earlier. I shook my head and took a deep breath. I wasn’t losing my mind. I just needed to get it together and they best way I knew how was to go to Mike.
I grabbed a sweater from my closet to match my pink sundress and stopped only to shove the contract—without straightening it again—into the envelope before snagging the apple sitting on the table. “An apple a day,” I sang out as I shined its skin on the hem of my dress. Hustling out, I left the contract between the screen and front door. I quickly locked up and hurried to my car.
It was a beautiful sunny and seventy-two degree day in Georgia and I was going to enjoy every moment of it.
I started the Honda, forgetting my usual prayer and put the car in drive as I lifted the shiny red apple to my lips for a bite. Instantly, I felt nauseous as a pit formed in my stomach and I physically wretched. Rolling down the windows searching for air, I dropped the apple in the seat and took a deep breath. I hoped I wasn’t catching a stomach bug.
Taking a couple of gulps of air, I felt better as the sweet Georgia breeze drifted across my face. I turned on the CD player and hit the gas. Roaring down the street I shook off the queasy feeling and without a second thought tossed the apple out the window knowing the neighborhood wildlife would thank me for the feast.
As AC/DC rocked my car I sang along with them. … “Payin’ my dues. Playin’ in a rockin’ band. Hey momma. Look at me. I’m on the way to the promised land…I’m on the highway to hell.”
I pulled into the park a little after noon. I managed the two brown bags filled with lunch in my arms including a bottle of wine—red. I neared the tree, the anticipation jumping through my chest. I couldn’t wait to see Mike. We’d not discussed meeting here, and yet somehow I knew I’d find him waiting for me.
My anticipation built as I walked through the park. I wanted to hold him and kiss him, just like the night before. Being with him was the best feeling I’d ever had—and the feeling was addicting.
I made the turn to my spot and tried not to run. I was anxious to see him and I didn’t care if he knew; I just didn’t want to drop the sandwiches and goodies I’d picked out especially for my beautiful blond haired, blue eyed tattooed man.
As soon as I saw the tree, my heart sank. No Mike. I slowed my pace and swallowed hard. I knew in my heart I was supposed to be here. Something called to me this morning and told me to be here. I always trusted what felt right—I trusted my intuition.
I let the yellow plaid blanket fall from under my arm to the ground and carefully sat my grocery bags down. I thought for a moment not to open the blanket, but somehow I knew I was where I was supposed to be and Mike would come.
A strong breeze lifted my hair from my shoulders and took the blanket flying in the wind, making it all the easier to spread it on the ground. I slipped the flat sandals from my feet and stepped onto the old worn fabric, sitting right in the middle. I pulled the first bag of groceries near and across an exposed root, jarring everything inside. The man at the deli counter had been kind enough to give me two red solo cups for the wine, but everything else was finger food.
I pulled the plastic corkscrew from the bottom of the bag and tore back the foil wrapper. A few twists in and I was ready for a glass—or at least a plastic cup.
I poured the wine and the licorice aroma of the dark red wafted toward me. I inhaled its flavor. Leaning back, I crossed my feet and decided I should learn to be more patient. I took another drink and noticed my Superman Band-Aid was soaked in blood. “Gross.”
I rummaged through the bag for a napkin and quickly pulled the bandage from my pruned finger. Wrapping it tightly in a paper tourniquet I lay back on the blanket and watched the leaves move as the sun glistened through the branches. I closed my eyes and breathed in the warm air.
I woke with a start and looked at my watch to check the time. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. I looked around my blanket. The cup full of wine sat on the corner and the two brown bags were right where I’d left them. No Mike. My heart sank and I asked myself what in the world I was doing. Was I so blinded by his light and love that I forgot relationships take two people? Did I misinterpret everything that happened last night? Did last night even happen? I couldn’t tell if I was the happiest I’d ever been or a complete nut-bag. One thing was certain. Mike wasn’t coming to our spot.
I looked up and noticed the clouds had moved in. Gathering up the bags, I folded the blanket and paused for only a moment. Dropping everything, I dug a napkin out from the bag and scribbled a note.
I was here. Thought you would be too. Please come find me. You promised you’d always be around.
I placed it in a hollow section of the tree and held it secure with a rock. I could check back later. I wanted to see him. I needed Mike.
The walk back to my car seemed longer than usual and my heart was aching. I needed to remember who I was. I was Indie Luce a
nd I led an unfortunate life. Be that as it may, was it so wrong for me to want more? I didn’t even know where to find Mike and yet I yearned for him.
I didn’t remember getting to or from his apartment. I only remembered him leaving me last night covered in his light, love and energy. Something that powerful couldn’t be wrong. It just couldn’t.
I opened my car door and put the sandwiches and wine in the back seat, suddenly feeling terrible—the kind of sinking I only had when I went from an extreme high to an extreme low. Only one other person could do that to me—Jacob—and he was gone. Maybe that meant Mike was gone too.
I started the car and decided to pay Jacob a visit. I put the car in drive and slowly pulled out of the gravel lot. I wanted to make it there before it began to rain.
I never called it a cemetery because my Grandma Indriel never called it that. It was a word she said that was ancient Greek and meant I put to sleep and none of the souls were sleeping. I often wondered if people knew what I knew if they would still go through the ritual of preparing and viewing the body. I can only describe it as a snake shedding its skin and leaving it behind. The body was merely a vehicle for the soul and it didn’t stick around for the funeral. The people who celebrated the life of their departed loved one with a party knew what they were doing.
I wandered through the rows of weeping willows, brushing their hanging leaves from my face as I neared Jacob’s headstone.
Jacob Matthew Luce 1988-2013. Son, Brother and Angel on Earth.
I did my usual grounds keeping around the headstone, brushing away the brown grass that had been tossed by the wind and lawn mower then caught by the cold marble and cement. I walked next to him and did the same for my parents whose birth and death years matched. That’s what happens when you meet your soul mate in fifth grade as my parents did and die together.
When their long-time Atlanta stockbroker took a job in New York City, they thought it would be fun to visit him in the World Trade Center while they were on a trip. The broker happily obliged them. Their bodies were never found after September eleventh, but Jacob thought it important for us to put the headstone next to our grandmother even though the graves lay empty.