Between Dreams

by Cynthia Austin

  I gasped at the lack of oxygen pumping from my exhausted lungs, it seemed an unfair reward for the amount of work I had put in to get there. Didn’t someone once say life isn’t fair? They must have traversed this ungodly hill too.

  I took an orange out from my purse and began to peel it. I ate half and left the other half for the ghost beneath the grave I was visiting. I had once read one of Ray’s books about Chinese spiritual beliefs. Many held on to rituals of graveyard picnics. They believed their departed loved ones were still here on earth, as ghosts.

  This tradition entailed the families having picnics at the gravesite of their departed. They would burn fake money, eat some food, and then leave the remainder of the meal on the grave for their ghost family. This is how the ghost would survive on the other side. If a ghost was not privy to this family tradition, he or she would be left to fend for themselves in the afterlife. Poor, and with no money, they were reduced to the eternal life of a beggar, asking other ghosts to share their graveyard food and fake ghost money. Ever since I read that book, I always had to leave a small amount of food for the rest of the non-Asian ghost community, whose families may not be aware of the rules of the afterlife.

  I looked down at the name engraved on the cement stairs; “The Tormey Family.” They seemed like nice people, so I signed the cross of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit while saying a small prayer for them.

  That’s when I heard a branch snap behind me. I spun around holding my breath, and was greeted by the face of what dreams are made of.

  It was him.

  His green eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  His thin frame was walking towards me. He had a cigarette in his hand and brought it to his lips.

  He could seriously become a cigarette model. Like, the GQ version of the Marlboro Man.

  Ignoring his beauty and trying hard to hold onto my anger, I answered, “You’re apologizing for sneaking up on me? Not for being a rude twit and overstepping your boundaries?”

  My angry demeanor ricocheted harmlessly off of him like darts hitting a tank. Adrian deliberately dragged on his cigarette and smugly replied, “You told me you didn’t believe in religion. Yet I find you here praying.”

  I snarled, “This cemetery is private property.”

  “Then how were you going to take me on a tour?”

  I paused for a moment, not knowing what to say. “I’m visiting my family, and I’m allowed to bring a guest. But then my guest ended up being a complete jerk so I ditched him.”

  “Hmmm,” he said, squeezing past me and walking up the cement stairs that led to the crypt on which I was sitting. His black boots stomped over the family name plate. “John Tormey died in 1877? My heavens, you must really miss him.”

  Adrian said this in the most serious, heart-felt voice he could muster, belying the corners of his mouth creeping up as he tried to suppress a smile.

  “Okay, fine. I don’t have any family buried here. I’m trespassing too,” I admitted.

  He countered, “Speak for yourself, young lady. Unlike you, I am actually visiting my family. Would you like to come and see just to ensure I’m not lying?”

  He winked as he uttered his invitation, his black hair blowing to the left side of his face and falling into his eyes. He brought his hand up and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

  “Why’d you ask for a tour of this place if you have family buried here?”

  Now who’s the liar?

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know…so I would have an excuse to hang out with you, I guess.”

  That was all it took for my prior feelings of resentment to evaporate and fall under his spell again. He could say whatever he wanted about Ray, as long as he followed it up with something alluring in that charming way of his.

  Looking up at him, as he stood over me wearing a faded Guns N Roses T-shirt and black jeans, it was really hard to believe that this guy actually worked in any kind of professional job.

  I took a deep breath, inhaling the humid, stagnant air as I stood up and exclaimed, “Why not? Lead the way.”

  He turned around and briskly started walking down the hill, cutting across graves as he arrogantly displayed a total lack of respect for the dead. I meekly followed him.

  The cemetery was nearly empty save for an old bald man in a maroon sweater and jeans. He was standing in front of one of the newer graves, his hand touching the giant stone as his head was hanging low. It made me feel so sad for him, and I paused to observe his moment of darkness. I would never want to be in his place, standing over a loved one’s grave and weeping for them, knowing that no matter how hard I tried, I could never bring them back.

  “People die, Sidney. It’s a part of life,” Adrian breathed in my ear, awakening my senses and breaking my trance as I stared at the stranger mourning his loved one. He took my hand and led me down the hill, away from the saddened patriarch.

  As we were descending the dirt hill, I regretted the fact that I wore my pink heels to a graveyard. The hill was steep and the dirt was soft. The last thing I wanted to do was fall on my face in front of this exquisite human being.

  After much concentration we made it to the old cement road which was probably used for a horse and buggy long ago. It was nowhere near big enough for a car. My heels echoed on the pavement as we walked side by side.

  With every clack I felt a new twinge of embarrassment.

  Adrian stopped and spun around. Bowing, he pointed to another set of narrow cement steps, this time leading to the entrance of a massive mausoleum.

  “And here we are, my lady,” he regally announced with a crooked smile. Taking my hand, he carefully guided me down the steps. He was so attentive I almost felt comfortable walking in these heels. Adrian would never let me fall on my face, I realized.

  At the bottom of the staircase was a small cement foundation that had a giant crack running down the middle which separated itself from the actual structure of the mausoleum. Apart from the broken foundation, the crypt was stunningly beautiful with its fancy engraving and curved top.

  Above the copper door, which was turning green with oxidation, was the name, McAllister. He coyly asked me, “Do you wanna go inside?”

  “You’re joking, right?” I said, skeptical of his invitation.

  He dangled his keychain in front of me.

  “I’ll prove it to you.” He abruptly brushed past me, allowing his hands to linger on my body a little longer than necessary, and stepped in front of the iron gates. He took a single key from the chain and put it in the keyhole. He opened the door and stepped inside.

  I stood there completely dumbfounded. In all my life, I’d never seen one of these old things open. I just assumed they were all forgotten, as ancient as they were.

  “Are you coming?” his voice shouted out from inside.

  I opened the door and poked my head into the black space. Adrian was holding his cell phone out, using the light as a guide.

  “You won’t see anything from out there. Come on.” He extended his arm out to me and I took his hand as he pulled me to him. I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent. I would have been happy to stay there for the rest of time, in his arms.

  He took out his lighter and flicked it open. Grabbing one of the sconces from the wall, he lit the wick and lit up the entire place. I saw four cement walls and a black shiny marble floor. There was a steep staircase that went down into the earth.

  Adrian put both of my hands on his shoulders and led the way down the steps as he warned, “Be careful not to fall, or you’ll send us both tumbling down.”

  I exclaimed, “Just don’t let go of my hands.”

  When we finally reached the bottom, we went through an archway and entered a massive underground room. There were hundreds of sections for coffins to be inserted into the wall. Some were full, and some were still empty waiting to be filled with more McAllister family members.

  “This is amazing.” I said, in awe of m
y surroundings as I released my hands from the death grip I had on his shoulders.

  There was intricate brickwork laid for the ground, some statues, and remains of flowers with vases that visitors had left throughout the years. High above our heads were some drainage covers allowing the sunlight to seep in through the cracks providing enough light to move around freely. Adrian just silently stood still, allowing me to take this all in.

  I smiled at him. “I normally don’t follow strange guys back to their house after drinking a bottle of whiskey with them in the middle of the night. And I really don’t follow guys down a hole into the ground at a cemetery. I guess what I mean to say is that I feel really comfortable with you. It’s like we’ve known each other forever or something.”

  He tilted his head as if lost in thought and then glanced down at my necklace. “Maybe in another life, huh?” he finally responded.

  I smiled at his sentiment. “Yeah, maybe that.”

  Then Adrian asked, “Tell me about your parents and your childhood.”

  I ended up explaining that I was actually raised by my granny who had recently became ill and how I had chosen to stay here and care for her. That decision, of course, had ultimately become the demise of mine and Ray’s relationship.

  Adrian sat on the brick floor listening, absorbing, and processing all of my unfortunate problems. He also told me stories about his life. He grew up in a small, upper class neighborhood in Alpine, New Jersey and attended private Catholic schools his entire academic career. He attended some exorbitant college and graduated with a degree in law, which was pretty impressive by my standards. I guess over on the East Coast, higher education is not only valued but expected of you. Here in this rinky dink town, you’re lucky if you graduate from a junior college. Maybe because we live in the sticks, they just figure we can graduate from girl scouts and become some kind of tour guide up in Tahoe. I can tie a stellar figure eight knot.

  I’d never met anyone as smart and educated as Adrian and it was truly inspiring to sit around and listen to his philosophy of life. He didn’t believe in Heaven or Hell, which was hard for me to comprehend since he spent all of his primary education attending a Catholic school. He chalked it up to the fact the beliefs were too far-fetched and he believed there was no place worse than where we were already.

  “Think about it, Sidney.” he said, “Is anyone on this earth really truly happy?”

  “Of course they are, Adrian. There are plenty of people who are happy. I was once happy and I’m sure that one day I’ll be happy again.”

  “You see, that’s just it,” he snapped, pointing his perfect finger in my face. “You were once happy. That’s all anyone gets in this life. This tiny little crumb of happiness before it breaks into a million pieces, leaving you chasing after that feeling you experienced for a fraction of your life. You come into this world alone, you seek it, searching for someone to make you feel everything that you’re lacking, and if you’re lucky you might find it, but then something always happens to split you up and spoil that happiness. Your God always takes it away. Then you spend however many years wasting your life searching for that false sense of happiness again, when in actuality it’s exactly what I said; a false sense.”

  I looked at him skeptically. “So you don’t believe that anyone here on this earth is happy?”

  “No. They’re not. They think they are and maybe for a minute they are, but something always happens that will change it. It could be a mother losing her only child in a horrific accident, a husband learning that his wife has been sleeping with his best friend, or a family losing their lifesavings due to an unforeseen medical illness that ended up bankrupting them. Something always gets in the way of people’s happiness here. So I don’t understand why people are so resistant to letting it all go. There can’t be anything worse out there than this. This is hell,” he concluded.

  Obviously I understood why he felt this way; it was his grief. The guy just lost both of his parents in a car accident not even a year ago. I placed my hand in his and squeezed. “I’m so sorry about your parents, Adrian. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to have parents that loved you as much as yours go before their time.” I shook my head at the irony of it all.

  Here he had two great parents wanting nothing but the best for him that ended up dying way too soon. Then there are my parents that couldn’t give two shits about me. Gosh, this world does work in mysterious ways. Maybe Adrian had a point after all.

  I pulled out my phone and glanced at the time.

  3:50 p.m.

  I didn’t know how I was going to explain to Ray where I had been for the past five hours, still in my dress and heels. It was obvious that I didn’t go on a run.

  Adrian summarized, “Well, it’s been fun but I guess we should be heading back up to earth now.”

  He stood up and took my hand, leading me back up the steep dark steps. Outside of the mausoleum, I waited while he locked it back up.

  “Thank you for a very interesting day.” I said, turning around to head for home.

  “Sidney?”

  I turned around and met his green eyes.

  “Do you need a ride home?”

  I shook my head and placed my hand on my hip and in my sassy way I said, “I told you, Adrian McAllister, I’m not supposed to be hanging out with the likes of you.”

  I waited as he walked down the cement steps to catch up with me. “Oh yeah, boyfriend’s orders.”

  I smiled and just shook my head. “Something like that.”

  We walked down the cemetery path together, past the two giant oak trees and through the wrought iron gates that led out to the lonely road. Once outside of the graveyard, I stopped and faced Adrian. I had to tell him I was leaving soon and I wasn’t sure if I would get another opportunity.

  I blurted out, “I’m going back to L.A. this Friday with Ray.”

  If Adrian cared, he didn’t show it. He just stood there looking at me, a blank expression on his face.

  I continued, “My granny’s nurse agreed to care for her fulltime so I can work on my relationship. I know from what I’ve told you about Ray he may not seem worth fighting for. But I refuse to believe that. I love him and I have to try to make it work.”

  Adrian pulled out another cigarette from his pocket and placed it in his mouth, “I guess this is goodbye then.”

  “It has to be,” I whispered, barely comprehending why this was so hard for me to do.

  “Goodbye, Sidney. I hope you find everything you’re looking for in L.A.”

  He crossed the street and headed towards the only car on the road. I watched as he opened the door and climbed in. The car roared to life, the engine loud and strong.

  As he began to drive away, I could hear Bush playing on the radio. It was the song that said something about not wanting to come down from a cloud.

  That seemed pretty appropriate at the moment to describe how I was feeling. Adrian spun the car around, away from the decaying road, and headed back into town.

  I suddenly felt a chill of remorse. He was gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  Downfall

  By the time I got home, my feet were aching to get out of my heels. I really wished that I had accepted the ride home from Adrian but I didn’t want to risk the possibility of Ray seeing him and the uncomfortable situation it would bring. Ray asked that I not see him anymore, so by me telling Adrian goodbye, I pretty much took care of that aspect on my boyfriend’s wish list.

  I opened the front door and my senses were immediately drowned in the sensational aromas of Nouri’s cooking. Stepping out of the pink heels, I walked barefoot into the kitchen. Nouri was standing on a stepping stool using a wooden spoon to stir the mixture inside a large pot. She looked like a small child invading the cookie jar. I walked briskly to her and gently took the spoon from her hand, “Here, Nouri, let me help with that.”

  “Oh thank you so much, Sidney.” Nouri answered as she stepped off the stool and quickly placed it
back into the pantry.

  “It smells like heaven in here. What are you cooking?”

  “It called Machado, it’s a delicious beef stew.”

  “I can’t wait to try it. Uh, is Ray home yet?”

  Nouri shook her head. “I had him put all of his stuff in the back bedroom upstairs so it out of your way. He say he no like meat so he go out to eat. Be back by seven.”

  I rolled my eyes as I remembered Ray deciding to go vegan a while back. It seemed to be the fashionable thing to do in Hollywood. It baffled my mind.

  Was it something in the water down there?

  I plucked a chunk of beef out of the stew and popped it in my mouth, simply doing it to spite Ray and his silly beliefs.

  After dinner, I visited with Granny a bit before deciding to go upstairs and hit the hay. Between staying out with Adrian, fighting with Ray, and those meaningless dreams, I was exhausted.

  As I said goodnight to Nouri, she asked me if I had planned to take a shower.

  “Why do you ask? I took one this morning.”

  Nouri scrunched her nose up and frowned, “Because you stink, Sidney. You smell like smoke.”

  Remembering my afternoon with my smoking friend, I thanked Nouri for the reminder and ran upstairs to shower away any traces of Adrian before Ray came home and discovered my secret. After my shower, I wrapped myself up tightly in my bathrobe and collapsed on my soft bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

  ***

  This dream was different from all the others. I was being pulled down the same dark steps that Adrian had led me down hours before. But this time, I could not see who my escort was. I moving so fast, and despite my struggle against the invisible force, I couldn’t break free from the grip. In a flash I was thrown to my knees on the brick floor of the McAllister Mausoleum. I searched the empty room but the perpetrator had already vanished.