by Rene Folsom
It’s as if she knew I was staring at her. Suddenly, her head whipped around in my direction, causing her hair to twirl about her head. We made eye contact. Just the sight of her made me weak in the knees.
Did I even have the balls to speak to her? C’mon, Jonah! You’ve been waiting for this girl for six mother-lovin’ years! Go talk to her already!
Taking a deep breath and composing myself, I steadily walked toward the clay-covered goddess.
God, I wish I could read her right now. My mouth was like cotton and my tongue increased in size with each step I took in her direction. I was seriously going to have issues talking to her without sounding like a blubbering idiot.
Grabbing a chair from a nearby wheel, I steadily turned it around and straddled the backrest. My intention was not to look cool, but to have some sort of brace to lean on so I wouldn’t fall over in pure apprehension.
She stopped the wheel from spinning and watched every move I made, not saying a word. The back of her clay-covered hand swept across her forehead to brush an errant curl from her eyes, shaking ever so slightly, and smearing just a tiny bit of clay onto her skin.
I reached up in an attempt to wipe the clay from her brow, but then hesitated. Would she disappear? Was this just my dreams all over again? Every time I got close to her, touched her, tried to speak to her, she would vanish. I was certain, if I lost her ever again, my heart would rip in two. I couldn’t lose her again.
Slowly, I dropped my hand and gripped my knees, wiping my now sweaty palms vigorously on my clay-stained jeans.
“Are you…” she started to say, but then wavered. God, her voice was even more breathtaking than I had ever imagined.
“Am I?” I responded with a smile, attempting to ease her anxiety.
She grabbed the towel that was draped across her knee and wiped at the slippery porcelain covering her hands. Visibly shaking, she tucked her hair behind her ear and placed her hands back in her lap.
Finally, she spoke again. “Are you… Jonah?”
“I am,” I answered as I gave her a slight nod. “How did you know?”
“Oh… ahh, Jay mentioned your name.”
My heart dropped a little at the realization she only knew me because of her short time here as a member. I don’t know why I thought she knew me from my dreams. I mean, really, Jonah. She has no clue who you are.
“Ahh, yes. Well, let me properly introduce myself,” I said as I strummed my fingers against the back of the chair. “My name is Jonah Chantrey and I am the owner of Lavendine.”
A soft gasp left her lips as her jaw dropped and she sat there, staring at me as if I had two heads. Something was up. But, I still couldn’t read her, or anyone for that matter. The fact I was no longer a soul seer was painful and infuriating.
“And you are?” I asked, in an attempt to get some other reaction from her. I had to know her name.
“Oh. My name is Orella Hugh. But please, call me Ella,” she said as she meekly outstretched her hand for me to shake.
I just stared at her hand like an idiot, nervous to attempt contact. So far, I was able to talk to her, I was able to get her name. This very well wasn’t a dream considering I’ve never gotten this far before. But, if I touched her, would she burst into glittering flames? Would her beautiful hair disappear into a lake of midnight blue ripples? Would she float away like a mist in the early morning hours of spring?
Bashfully, she retracted the hand she offered me and tucked it between her knees. Shit. Now I’ve hurt her feelings.
“Orella. Such a beautiful name. And very unique, just like your amethyst eyes.” The words just dribbled out of my mouth like drool on my pillow.
“My eyes?” she said as she lightly touched the bottom corner of her right eye with one of her fingers.
“I’m sorry. That was awfully forward of me. They’re just such a unique color and so striking.” Way to recover, numbnuts.
A small smile made its way across her face as she turned her gaze downward. I wanted so badly to reach out, hook my finger beneath her chin, and make her look at me again with those glittering purple gems.
“You must have a thing for purple,” she said as she glanced back up to meet my constant stare.
“That I do, Ella. Which makes you perfect,” I said with a wink. Oh my. I cannot believe I just said that out loud. She’s going to think I’m some kind of creep.
“You’re blocking…” she started to say, but abruptly faltered.
“What?” I responded with surprise.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Nothing,” she assured with a brisk shake of her head.
Did she think I was blocking her? Was I blocking? Honestly, I had no idea what the hell was wrong with me, but I didn’t even know if she was really a soul seer. Yes, I am certain she is Delphina’s daughter, who was a soul seer when she knew my dad in college. But, does that mean her daughter is also a soul seer? If she wasn’t—how did she know about blocking thoughts? I knew I couldn’t read anyone else, but now… now I think no one is able to read me either. The fact that I don’t know any other soul seers makes it difficult to prove.
To attempt a change of subject, I asked, “So, are you enjoying your time here at Lavendine so far?”
With a small nod and absolutely no eye contact, she said, “Yes, so far. This is only my second day. But, I haven’t thrown on the wheel in quite a few years. I’m worried I don’t quite remember.”
Finally, she looked back up at me and, at that point, I knew she had my heart. Her eyes were gentile, innocent, and oh-so breathtaking.
“Some say it’s like riding a bike. Would you like me to work with you?” I asked, dying for her to accept my offer.
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m sure you’re really busy.”
“Not at all. That’s what I’m here for, Ella,” I assured her.
“Um, okay,” she said as she bit her lip, making me nearly convulse on the spot. “As long as I’m not keeping you from anything, then I would love your help.” With that, she smiled, nearly taking all the air from my lungs in the process.
“Even more breathtaking in person,” I muttered, not realizing I spoke aloud.
“Excuse me?” she asked, not unkindly, but probably because she sincerely didn’t hear me. All the better. I needed to shut my mouth before I scared her away.
Steadily, I turned my chair around and scooted right next to her so we sat side by side.
Looking over, I heard her release a shuttered breath as her eyes fluttered shut, and then opened again, focusing on my hands nearing her ball of porcelain. I could feel her warm breath hit my face as she steadily blew out, almost as if she was attempting to gain control of herself. Shoot. I was the one that needed control.
“Ok, press down on the pedal and get the wheel going at a speed comfortable for you,” I instructed. Hearing the motor of the wheel increase made the energy in the room intensify, causing a constant buzz of power to pulse through my veins. I was in my element and I wanted nothing more than to share my love of art with this girl. My girl. “Perfect. Now, you nearly have this centered already, you just need to level it out some to make your initial plunge smooth and uniform.”
“Will you show me?” she asked as she brushed her fingers along the top of my hand.
She touched me! I know that sounds juvenile to be so excited over a simple touch. But, in all my dreams, in all 2200+ dreams, I’ve never been able to touch her.
I hadn’t answered her yet. I was too stunned by this simple touch.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to show me. I just…”
“Of course, Ella,” I said as I managed to gain control of my hormones. “I would love to demonstrate. To center and level, I use my body more than I do my arm strength. The best way I can explain it is to brace your elbow into your side, like this. Then use your body to push the clay while using your fingers to keep it level.”
As I spoke, I demonstrated, all the while looking directly into her eyes. She watched my hands
as I watched her expressions. She glanced at me and smiled.
“You don’t need to watch what you’re doing?”
“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?” I blurted out. Goddamnit! I needed to get control of my brain to mouth breakdown!
“I just… I…” she stuttered and it made me feel bad. I put her on the spot like a jackass. Just as I was about to apologize, she continued. “I’m just wondering what you see.”
She truly was wonderful in every way. What the hell do I say to that? I see the girl I’ve dreamed about my entire adolescence.
“I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. I’ve just never seen someone so beautiful before. I’ll try to keep my eyes on my demo,” I said with a quick wink before looking down at my hands. Disappointment already began to writhe beneath my skin at the loss of her beauty. But, I could still smell her—still feel her leg pressed lightly against mine. That was better than nothing.
“It’s ok. I think it’s kinda neat you can do this without looking,” she admitted bashfully.
A huge, shit-eating grin spread across my face as I continued showing her my skills.
“So, once you’re satisfied with your centering, you want to begin your opening. Make sure you get your sponge wet enough before steadily opening the center with your finger. A little trick I like to teach is to go in with your left middle finger and then steady your descent with your right middle finger, keeping the sponge between your hands for lubrication.”
“You make it sound so sensual,” she said with barely a whisper.
“It is. Wheel throwing is very sensual,” I said as I fought the urge to look deep into her eyes. Heck, I fought the urge to make her feel sensual. “Now, you want to be careful not to go too far down. You want to leave room for trimming later. Gently, curve your finger toward the outside of your pot and meet that pressure with your finger on the outside wall. A trick when starting with smaller pots like this is to keep your thumbs crisscrossed over each other so your hands will stay braced and steady. Gradually pull up the sides, keeping the width of the wall as even as possible. Keep doing that until you get your desired width. Go ahead and try with what I’ve started.”
“I don’t want to ruin it,” she said with a little bit of humor in her tone.
“Oh, hell. You won’t ruin it. And if you do, it’s just clay. Dive in, Ella. I’m right here.”
My light humor was awarded with a trickle of laughter from her lips. The sound of her happiness warmed my insides and made me feel complete.
Determination in her gaze, she licked her luscious lips, and braced herself. Dipping her sponge into the water bowl, she then began gliding her dainty fingers along the silky white clay, pulling the sides up like a professional.
“Did you pretend to need my help just so I would stay here with you?” I said jokingly. Her eyes didn’t leave her fingers as she grinned and bit that sexy lip of hers again. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath, calming myself and my raging guy hormones. She was going to be the end of me.
“I’d like to make this into more of a bottle shape. Is that possible at this point?” she asked sweetly.
“Of course. Take your hands like this and act like you’re wringing its neck,” I said as I lightly guided her hands in the position to bring in the neck of the bottle. Her hands were so soft, especially with the wet porcelain slip gliding through her fingers.
“Now, you don’t want to make it too narrow, because we need some room to bring in the throwing stick,” I explained as I reached over to the community tool barrel and grabbed a throwing stick tool used for throwing bottles.
Once we were pretty much complete with our shape, she brought one of her fingers up and quickly dabbed my nose with wet clay, then honored me with that beautiful laugh of hers.
“Oh, we’re going to play like that, are we?” I chided as I quickly wiped some clay on her cheek. She lightly squealed and backed away to the point where I thought she might lean right off the back of the chair.
Without thinking, I reached around and caught her, placing my very messy, very wet hand dead center on her back, essentially mudding up her shirt.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Ella. I just got clay all over your shirt,” I said as I held her. I was actually holding her and she still stayed solid within my grasp. I wanted to pull her against me and feel her soft body pressed against mine.
“It’s ok. I purposefully wore clothing that could get messy,” she said as she lightheartedly placed both her muddy hands on my chest, making perfect little handprints on the pecks of my t-shirt.
Both of us laughing, we held each other for several moments before finally breaking free and wiping the rest of our mess on the towel. I left her handprints on my shirt—a clear indication she actually touched me and was really and truly here.
As we were finishing up, she stared at our bottle, smiled, and said, “I should have you help me every time. This is beautiful.”
Looking her directly in the eyes, I boldly confessed, “I’d work with you anytime, lovely Ella.”
Chapter Five
Quickly making my way home, I bounded through the door, screaming for my mom. I was surprised I managed the volume I did because I was definitely out of breath. I didn’t run, but I definitely walked rather quickly and I still wasn’t in good enough shape for such activity.
Worried by the racket I was making, she came running out of the bathroom with nothing on but her towel, half soaped up and dripping wet all over the wood floors. I stifled a giggle at her appearance, which annoyed her a little bit as she placed her hands on her hips in a perfect scolding-mother stance.
“What the hell, Ella? Are you ok?” she screamed, half concerned and half infuriated.
“Sorry, Mom. Didn’t mean to scare you. Yes, I’m ok. Actually, I’m PERFECT! Absolutely perfect!” I shrieked as I bounced on my tippy toes and skipped toward her.
“Well hell, Ella! Let me get back in the shower and you can talk to me.”
Once my mom got back in the shower, I sat on the bathroom counter and told her about my encounter with Jonah. Since my mom could clearly see my thoughts, I knew I couldn’t hide anything from her. So, I spoke freely when I told her how drop-dead sexy he looked while walking over to where I sat at the wheel. I made sure she saw the image of him and how he looked at me as if I were some rare gem he’d never seen before. I even projected to her how I felt when he touched me. How his laugh trickled up my spine and spread sparks of warmth through my insides. And also how playful and kind he was, making me feel comfortable and confident around him.
By the end of my rants, she was standing in front of me, holding my hands to her heart, crying, while still clad in nothing but a towel. At least now she wasn’t all sudsy.
“The owner of Lavendine? What a coincidence. I dreamed of getting back into pottery with you. The next day I signed up at the nearest studio and it just so happens to be owned by your Jonah? What are the odds?”
“My Jonah. Oh, Mom! He was so wonderful! He seemed to be a little scared of me at first though,” I admitted as I remembered him being unwilling to shake my hand.
“Men do that kind of silly stuff, Ella. They send such mixed emotions,” she said as she dried her hair.
“So, I take it you never got in touch with Jonah’s dad?”
“No. I couldn’t seem to find him. He’s probably unlisted. I was going to check public records next, but since you have found him, I don’t need to anymore, right?” she asked with a wink.
“Right.”
“So, tell me more,” she encouraged while she dressed.
“He was blocking me, but I’m not sure it was intentional. I know this sounds weird and it could just be my imagination, but it seems I can tell when someone is intentionally blocking me. I get different… I dunno… feelings. Like, yesterday, you were blocking but it was more out of excitement and happiness. Whereas, today, Jonah was blocking, but it seemed out of defense. Like, he was scared or unwilling to let his guard down.”
“It doesn’t sound odd, Ella. You’re just more gifted than the average soul seer,” she explained. “Some seers can actually feel the emotions behind a shield. And, given enough time and practice, some seers can even penetrate those shields.”
“Penetrate? You mean, get past someone’s mental block to see what they are hiding?”
“Yes. And usually those who can feel the emotional reasons behind a shield can also penetrate that shield. Only those who know how to block their emotions are the ones who cannot be penetrated,” she explained as she looked at me. “Make sense?”
“Sort of, I guess. I feel so out of control with it all though.”
“You’ll get it. Once we are stable with your PT, we’ll start working on your mind. For now, don’t worry yourself about it. You have your entire life to hone in on your abilities.”
A few minutes later, we were enjoying a late lunch out on the back deck.
The sun was shining brightly through the canopy of trees above our little stone table, peeking its rays through the branches and kissing my skin ever so slightly—as if it was a shy child wanting to come out and play. Leaning back, I lifted my face and closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth against my skin. Sounds of Debussy flooding from the French doors of the house overtook my senses and began lulling me into a deep meditative state. I wasn’t sleeping, but I sure as heck wasn’t paying attention to what was around me.
Suddenly, my mom’s cell phone rang, startling me from my trance and causing me to crack an eye open to make sure she was still there to answer it.
“Ella, it’s for you!” she practically screamed as she sprang from her chair, held her hand over the microphone, and bounced from foot to foot in excitement.
With a wrinkle to my brow and a confused look on my face, I asked, “Who is it?”
“I think it’s him!” she squeaked and pushed the phone into my chest.
My eyes went wide and I swear, if I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have surely fell flat on my face. Jonah is calling me? I pushed myself up into a sitting position, straddling my legs along the sides of the chaise lounge I thought was so comfortable just moments ago.