by Rene Folsom
The rumors are true. A coma patient does in fact absorb the words and information around them. If it weren’t for my mom, I would still have the mental capacity of a fourteen-year-old. But because she educated me throughout my incapacitated state, I not only still felt alive, but felt the desire to continue on in life as if I were actually coherent over the past six years.
My mom taught me not only how to live, but also how to love. Well, the emotional part of love that is. Even though, in my mind’s eye, I wasn’t a virgin anymore—technically, my body had never experienced what my mind had deemed to be so damn real. How could someone dream of having sex… feeling, seeing, smelling… and it not be real? Trying to wrap my understanding around all of this, my mind was nothing but a wacked cluster of confusion.
Other than my muscles being horribly riddled with atrophy, the recovery wouldn’t be quite so bad. However, one thing was more painful than my heart could bear. Jonah. Jonah wasn’t real. I had to come to the awareness that he was just a figment of my imagination.
It’s odd. Parts of my dream, or more like my dream-like state, were factual. I did break both of my legs in the accident.
The horses? They were real. My mom purchased them two years after our accident and told me all about them, down to their spirits and personalities.
The stars? They were real. Over the years, my mom began obsessing over astronomy and stargazing. She told me about all the different places she wanted us to visit once I woke.
My dad… my dad walking away was also real.
“Ella! Your dad is on the phone!” my mom yelled from downstairs. I didn’t want to talk to him, and regardless of how much my mom pushed, I wouldn’t change my mind. When my mom needed him the most, he walked away. He could keep on walking as far as I was concerned.
My Aunt Sybil came and went. That was usually her style anyway. But for my dad to walk away as soon as things got tough… it would take a hell of a lot of ass kissing to earn my forgiveness.
I decided to ignore her, figuring she would read my thoughts or get the hint that I didn’t want to speak to the man.
I could hear her inner turmoil as she verbally gave him the runaround but mentally defended my feelings. Regardless of her desire to rekindle my relationship with my dad, she didn’t blame me for my reaction.
I was very grateful for my mother’s non-stop coddling. Regardless of how torn up I was over losing Jonah… well, let’s get real, I never really had him in the first place. But, with the realization he didn’t exist, my emotional state took a nosedive. Even though my company has been less than desirable over the past month, my mom has never given up on me. Still, the shock of it all has me tearing at my insides in some sort of vicious attempt to comprehend. When I thought my mother was no longer alive, I was devastated. It turns out I was the one who was dead. Yet, she made sure to keep life coursing through my mind. She made sure to keep me alive… if that’s what you want to call it.
“Hey, Ella. Ready for a shower? I have a surprise for you later,” my mom said as she poked her head around my bedroom door with a smile.
“I think I can handle the shower by myself now. At least, I would like to try. Maybe you could just stay nearby in case I need you?” I asked, hoping she would allow me this little bit of freedom.
“That sounds reasonable. I think you’re ready to do whatever you set your mind to.”
Gaining control of my muscles deemed to be more challenging than I thought.
Supposedly, the doctors and physical trainers tried to exercise my muscles and joints on a daily basis while I was in a coma, but the fact of the matter was, I had to learn how to function all over again. Believe it or not, bladder control seemed to be the hardest for me. But, after a little over a month, I was well on my way to being normal again, save for the more advanced things like driving and the like. Even though I was nearing my twenty-first birthday, it would likely be at least another year before I could become a licensed driver.
As I was lathering my hair in the shower, I noticed I couldn’t hear my mother’s rambling thoughts. Odd, because her thoughts were usually the strongest of all, overpowering any other minds near me.
Mom, where’d you go? I pushed, hoping she could pick up on my thoughts.
I’m still in your room, Ella. I didn’t go anywhere, she projected.
So, it is true. You’re able to block me.
Silence.
So, my dream-like coma held more truth than I thought. She was blocking her thoughts from me. Interesting that she has decided to suddenly block me now when I haven’t ever noticed her blocking anything from me before. I actually thought it was something I conjured up in my six-year-imagination spree.
“I’m sorry, Ella,” my mom said as she poked her head through the bathroom door, startling me. “I have a surprise for you and I’m just trying to keep it a surprise. That’s all. I didn’t even know you’d be able to tell I was blocking.”
I didn’t respond. Quickly, I tried to finish my shower on my own, but lacked the physical stamina to dry myself after the exertion of the shower. I actually surprised myself at how comfortable I was with my mom’s constant assistance, even when it came to rather private times like these. She truly was my best friend. And, right now, my only friend.
Well, I take that back. Jesse, who was also in my coma-dream, was actually one of the new next-door neighbors and very close to my age. My mom sort of took her in while I was absent. Jesse’s parents were never home and my mom needed the companionship she so desperately missed during my six-year hiatus.
After coming home from the hospital, I quickly made friends with Jesse. She was genuine, kind, and very lonely. Her father would go on business trips while her mother traveled for pleasure. Jesse attended the local university and pretty much lived on her own. Even though she was very skinny and had a bit of that nerd-vibe going for her, inside she was so beautiful and sweet. It made me wonder why some guy hadn’t snatched her up by now.
My musings were interrupted by my mom’s thoughts. I invited Jesse to go with us, but she said she couldn’t join us right now. She might meet up with us later though.
Considering I don’t know what she would be joining us for, it’s no biggie.
As we made our way to the front door, I looked to the wall where the replica of Da Vinci’s Leda sketch hung, just like the dream of my sculpture… and… and Jonah. The frown now evident on my face caught my mom’s attention.
“Come, Orella,” she coaxed, worried I would fall back into my depression. It was a likely possibility considering I seemed to plummet into darkness whenever I thought of losing him.
Ha! Losing him. I had to remind myself I never really had him. He was just a figment of my imagination. My hormone-riddled imagination.
About ten minutes later, we pulled up to an old brick building. Lavendine, I repeated in my head as I read the sign. Odd name… if I’m not mistaken, it’s a certain type of amethyst. It didn’t seem like anything fancy, but I was intrigued nonetheless.
An art studio, my mom let slip. Just as she did, she thought of a rather graphic curse, causing me to chuckle lightly at her internal self-chiding.
It was an art studio. A ceramics studio! I felt the foreign feeling of excitement course through my veins for the first time since I woke up in that godforsaken hospital bed. My mom signed us up for an open-studio membership, as something we can do together and a sort of therapy for me. Her surprise couldn’t have been better.
As we walked in, I looked over at the potter’s wheels and smiled. Flashes of memories—watching Jonah work his magic on the wheel, gazing into his eyes, laughing at his antics—truly wonderful memories. Or, in reality, make-believe memories.
What was that? my mom projected rather loudly, her voice screeching in my mind.
I turned to her and gave her a questioning look, raising a brow with confusion.
I saw something. An image… kind of like a movie. You and a boy, in a room like this. It was… was that…
&
nbsp; You saw that? I questioned, cutting her off and looking away from her to see if anyone was staring. This was a public studio and I had to remind myself we weren’t alone.
I did. I saw it clear as day. As if it was one of my own memories.
Sit, Mom. I want to try something, I thought as I pulled out a seat for myself. Now, close your eyes.
We sat in the art room with a few other people mingling around, probably looking like a pair of mental patients facing each other with our eyes closed. But I didn’t care.
I began to clear my mind of any other thoughts, save for Jonah’s face. Each detailed feature, from his dark, unruly hair, to his deep green eyes, to his full, perfect lips, right down to the single dimple on his right cheek when he smiled.
When I was done, I opened my eyes and grabbed my mom’s hand. She was crying.
She finally opened her eyes and looked at me with what I could only sense as joy. At first, I thought for sure she was crying because she felt sorry for me. But, then, why did she seem happy?
Because, Ella. I know who he is. At least, if he looks anything like this father. I know how to find him.
You know Jonah’s father? Divinus Chantrey? I practically screamed in my mind as I stood up, unable to control my over-stimulated muscles.
My mom nodded and took my hand to lead me back outside. We didn’t want to cause a sob fest right in the middle of the studio. Plus, I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being watched, or observed, by someone in the studio. However, each time I looked around the room, I saw everyone paying attention to their projects at hand. They paid us no mind and yet I still felt eyes… observing me.
Shaking it off as nerves over the most recent mommy-daughter bonding moment, we made our way across the front porch of the art building and sat in a pair of wicker chairs, which were barely being kissed by the afternoon sun.
“Do it again, Ella. Show me again. Whatever you want to show me. I can’t believe you can project imagery!” she whispered excitedly.
“It’s something Jonah and I did together when I was…” I stopped. Confusion wracked my brain. Was my coma really a dream? Obviously, something more was going on, but I had no idea what.
“Don’t worry about understanding anything right now, Ella. Just show me something. I want to get a grasp on what you’re truly able to do.”
I closed my eyes and focused my mind on Divinus’ face. I wanted to see if there really was some sort of connection between my imagination and the real world.
“That’s him! Ella, how do you know about him? I don’t understand?” my mom asked with a perplexed look on her face.
I just shrugged as I said, “I have no idea, Mom. Up until now, I thought my coma was filled with dreams. Some I assumed were a product of your constant attention, feeding me information even though no one thought I was listening. But, Jonah. I thought he was nothing more than a dream. A beautiful, heartbreaking dream.
Tears began to stream down my face like a sudden dam had burst in my soul.
“Shhh. Oh, Ella. Don’t cry. I actually have a theory,” she said as she pulled my hand to her heart and held it tight.
I looked up at her excited violet eyes, dying for her to continue.
“I’m now wondering if you have some sort of precognition sense… or, maybe, you can just read my past memories,” she said as she paused for a moment. “I went to college with Mr. Chantrey. Of course, it’s been years since I’ve seen him and I have no clue if he even has children, let alone a son named Jonah. So, if Jonah really does exist, you may be more than just a little clairvoyant, my darling Orella. It’s likely your name fits you better than we know.”
I didn’t know what to think about all this information. Is it possible that Jonah really does exist? If he does, would he feel the same way about me as he did in my dreams? Undoubtedly, he probably would have no idea who I was. That thought alone was nearly enough to break me.
“Let’s not rush into this, Ella. I really want to make sure your emotions are up for the challenge. It will likely be way more painful if you find out there is no Jonah. I just can’t bear to think of you having to deal with a letdown like that right now.”
I nodded in agreement. There was no way I would be able to handle the final reality that Jonah didn’t exist. At the moment, he still existed in my mind. And, if his memory is all I have, then I wanted to keep that memory alive as long as possible.
“Come. Let’s go get our hands muddy and we’ll talk through this more later.”
We spent the afternoon playing with clay and talking about nothing more than ideas for our projects.
That night, I fell asleep while watching Serenity again—the same as I did every night for the past month—hoping his warm arms would wrap around me once more and I would wake up from this harsh reality.
Chapter Two
I stood in the small doorway as Jay walked away.
Two beautiful angels just walked in, both with curly blond hair and amethyst eyes.
“Delphina,” I whispered. At that moment, I knew something was changing for me. Here, in my studio, was the girl I had fantasized about since I was fifteen.
I was struck dumb by the sight in front of me. It’s as if someone superglued my feet to the floor and my lips to one another. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even fucking breathe.
I watched as they sat, eyes closed, communicating somehow. Damn it! What I wouldn’t give to be able to read their minds! I needed to figure out what the hell was wrong with me and fast.
Suddenly, the mother began to cry silently. The daughter, my dream, kept looking around the studio as if she were looking for someone. I ducked out of the way every time she looked in my direction. Did she know I was stalking her? With that, they both got up and walked outside.
I felt all the oxygen leave the room as if it was also desperate to follow the two angels. I was suddenly able to gasp for air when I realized they just went to sit out on the porch, probably to soak up some of that beautiful afternoon sun that glistened delightfully off their golden waves.
I wanted desperately to touch her. To make sure she was ok. To make sure she didn’t leave me. But, if I tried to approach her, would she disappear again? Was I really awake or was this some sick, twisted version of my dreams.
“Jay!” I yelled, still keeping my eyes glued to the woman sitting just outside the front window.
“Sup, Jonah?” Jay responded as he ambled closer to me. I could tell he was concerned for me.
“Did you sign them up?”
“Ahh, I signed the mother up two days ago, yes. She said she was also signing up for her daughter as a surprise,” he explained, still obviously nervous about my current state of duress.
“What was her name?” My question was barely a whisper. I was still breathing hard. Still stunned at the sight of these women in my territory.
“Dude, you’re kinda worrying me. I knew you’d want to see her because of the color of her eyes, but why are you acting all weird. Just go talk to her.”
“Jay?” My tone was a clear warning. “Name. I need a name.”
“Shit, Jonah. Ok. Let me go get the membership file,” he said as he gestured toward the file cabinet and started to make his way over there. About fucking time.
“Delphina Hugh,” he hollered from across the room.
“Shhh! Shit, Jay! They’re still here. I don’t want them to know I’m digging for information.”
“Damn it, Jonah. Tell me what the hell is going on!” Jay demanded, getting right up into my face and blocking my view of her.
“Okay. Okay. You’re taking off for lunch in about ten minutes, right?”
“Yeah. Well, I’m actually taking off for the rest of the day. Eve was going to cover for me,” he explained.
“Alright. I remember now. Are you going home before heading to your parents’ house?”
He just nodded and raised his eyebrow as he crossed his arms in a questioning stance.
“When you get t
o the apartment, go into my room and take a look at the drawing on my easel. Then, call me. Or, don’t call me, unless you want to. But, you’re going to want to.”
“Well, in that case, I’m leaving now,” he said as he grabbed his keys out of his pocket. “This better be good, Chantrey!” he demanded with a pointer finger in my direction.
Luckily, Eve showed up just a few minutes later, effectively saving me from needing to interact with the woman who caused my heart to turn to putty.
Jay knew about my obsession with purple and especially with purple eyes. But, he did not know the extent of my fixation. I have not shared all of my dreams with him—only the ones represented in my sketchbooks—and none from the past month that have become so greatly detailed.
The girls came in from the porch; my love lightly wiping her face as if she were crying. I would give anything to keep that look of sorrow from her face.
She was thinner than I had imagined and I noticed she walked with a slight limp. It wasn’t extremely obvious, and would probably go unnoticed by most. But I watched every step she took. Every move she made was thoroughly examined by my eyes. She seemed… weak. In my dreams, she was always so strong. But now, as her mother helped gather up some clay and tools, she appeared more fragile and meek.
Five minutes hadn’t even passed and Jay’s number lit up on my screen. Quickly ducking into the other room, I answered the call.
“What the hell is going on, Jonah?” Jay practically yelled into the phone.
“She’s the girl, Jay. She’s the girl with the amethyst eyes from my dreams,” I explained calmly, although I was anything but.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Jay mumbled, obviously realizing just how serious this was. “Wait a minute. I thought you said you had never met the girl from your dreams.”
“I haven’t. I drew that picture from my dream three nights ago. Up until now, I didn’t even know she actually existed beyond what I concocted in my mind.”