by Douglas R.
He beams over the caller ID: Unknown Number.
Mom must be calling from a pay-phone again.
He picks up his phone and heads out to the balcony.
"Hello?"
The large tree outside hangs over and Blake absentmindedly picks at the leaves as he leans on the railings. His fingers freeze when his caller says his name. First, she isn't sure it's him but as the silence stretches she calls his name again and Blake begins to laugh back at how ridiculous reality can be.
"Myla?"
"I'm here, baby!"
"Listen, Sherri. If this is some prank call to make me—"
"It's not Sherri. It's Myla. It's really me. You left your Driver's License at my place by mistake. Technically it was in the book you gave me so that winded up in my room."
I wondered where I'd placed that!
"... Blake?"
"How...?"
"I got your contact from our Hub. It's a large database. I'm calling you from something called a spore. I don't know if you have it there. How are you listening in?"
"On my phone. My iPhone actually. It's like an iPod that can make calls."
"Oh! I can picture that!"
"Dammit, Myla! Are you really calling me?"
"I almost can't believe it either! I just tried and the call got through. Did you like the photos I sent you?"
"I-I loved them. Matty can't believe how beautiful you are. I've been telling him. And Pandor... I think it's the most beautiful place I've seen. The houses floating on the ocean..."
"I wanted a house on the ocean too! But the Elders prefer to hide me underwater. That's why my picture has fish in the background. What's earth like?"
"Very much like Pandor. But the infrastructure is different. It's not as green as your cities are."
"I won't lie. I learned about Earth when I was in Engagement and we saw these moving holograms with pictures and stuff."
"How old were you then?"
"About two blue moons old. When I was three I was chosen to become Lebra. And everything changed."
"How long is a blue moon?"
"Haha, a long, long time. I'm six now. How old are you?"
"Seventeen years. How sure can I be that I'm not dating an old lady?"
"Haha! You've seen me, Blake. I don't think six blue moons and seventeen years are that far apart... I hope," she laughs. "By the way, I met this friend of mine I hadn't seen for eons. Her name is Xena. And I told her about you. I hope that's okay."
"Fine by me. I'm just worried about you. You freak me out when you talk about your life and the things you have to do."
"And you warm me up when you kiss me and teach me how to free myself from concern by reading Scooby Doo."
Blake smirks. "I want to kiss you now."
"Babe, I can't wait."
"The wait will be worth the reward."
"It better be. I'm not very patient."
"Come see me."
"You want me to sleep now?"
"Come to Earth. All the Happy Ever After’s happen on Earth."
Myla laughs, "As far as the stories tell."
"So you'll come?"
"You know it's not easy, Blake."
"Hey, hey, don't back away on me now. I love you and I want you here. Long distance has its limits."
"I know. The long distance is driving me crazy. But I think it's romantic. And it's safe. For you it's safe. No one can hurt you. No one can take you away from me."
"I know. You don't want me to end up like," Blake sighs, this could be a red button. "Your family."
"You won't. I'll protect you."
"By not coming to see me for real?"
"Please don't take it like that."
"I know it's tough. But it's not impossible," Blake turns his eyes over the trees. To the sky, remembering a quote that his mother used to say from one of her favorite authors, what was that book he wrote anyway... The Alchemist?" My mom used to say: It will work if you forget all the reasons why it won't."
He can feel her smile.
"That's sweet."
"So will you just forget about the how and just promise me that you'll come see me on Earth. Because we love each other and there's no better reason why we can't make this love happen."
"Well, Blake, love. I promise you with all my heart that I will come see you. This year. This blue moon. This whatever measure of time we may call. I don't care how it will happen. I'm not concerned," she pauses, "But I know I'll come to see you and wrap my arms around you. We'll make this love happen, baby. I promise."
"And we let the words go."
"We let them go do the job for us."
"We don't have to worry about a thing."
"Because worry won't make us birds fly. And while we wait we still have the dreams."
"Our secret place."
"Our utopia."
"Our Eden."
"What's that?"
"A garden where the first two people ever created lived in... until they made a mistake and then they had to leave."
"Aw, sad story. Will they go back to Eden?"
"I don't know. But there's Paradise. You know, after this life."
"Oh! We believe in the stars. That's where all good people go to when their lives on their planets are over."
"What's in the stars?"
"I have no idea. But there's everyone you've ever loved and all of your family and friends. There's lots of joy. In fact, there's a little Verse about it."
"Tell me."
"Bodies in heaven, enveloped by the company of stars. That all I can remember."
"It sounds cool."
"I know... How do you feel?"
"What?"
"How do you feel now? I want to know."
"Why?"
"Just tell me."
"Okay... I want to see you. And I'm on tiptoes because I can't wait to see where this leads us. But there are no shortcuts. So I remain on tiptoes. How do you feel?"
"Gosh! I can't compete with that!"
"Just say what's inside."
"Okay. I feel like... I can't wait to see what happens next for us. I can't wait to see my path to you light up. And I can't wait to take the next step to get us closer. I'm nervous and excited and I'm so happy at the same time."
"Where are you right now?"
"I'm home. Lying on my bed, imagining your face in my mind. I have my spore beside me. Okay now I'm rolling over."
"Haha!"
"I have butterflies in my stomach."
"I'm sorry I'm making you sick."
"You're bad for me. No wonder they never wanted me to date you."
"I guess I'm making you a bad girl."
"Yeah, like that song: Good girl gone bad!"
"How about Out of Control? You like it?"
"Yeah. But I think I've gained some control. I'm not completely helpless. Except for when we're making out."
"What are ya talking about? You're an amazing kisser."
"Like the song Good Kisser by Usher? Gosh, there's a song for everything!"
"That's the beauty of music. It's everything in the universe, transformed into their audio versions."
"And stored in little devices called iPods. I wonder what song fits this moment?"
"There's a song called Tiptoes."
"I think I saw two."
"One by Imagine Dragons. And there's another one by Miss Reacher. Reacher's version is awesome."
"How about I play Play With My Hair?"
"You want me to play with your hair again?"
"Yes. That's what I feel. Let me play it right now."
There's a little movement and Myla is back with the sound of tides crashing on the beach as the song begins. The stars drop and Holly starts to sing.
Blake holds his phone up, switching to speaker mode and watching the sky turn darker as the song plays through. He imagines Myla and her body, stretched on her bed. Under the tones of the chorus he can hear her breathe.
"Love you. Thanks for calling. Did you ri
sk your butt to get to the Hub?"
"Yeah. And it was worth it. You're all I got, Blake. I'll risk anything for you... anything."
37
I lie down to the sound of electronic pianos. They feel like strawberries falling on my back. They'd make a great massage. You're probably wondering what that feels like. Don't feel upset if you can't. I'm beginning to understand that music can be abstract and complex.
It's not very easy to transform music back into the tangible things they represent in the universe. Inspiration doesn't leave many clues. But it can surprise.
My buds are well in my ears and I'm smiling to SheraPova's song, Let me love you. It starts with the electric pianos and then the trumpets stream in. It has some old sounds in it. Like the equipment they used was still not as modified as they are in songs by Fall Out Cities, Coldplay or The Bullfighters. And oh, it starts with a man's voice. On the artist photo he's got an Afro and his skin tone is exactly like mine. Light-skinned. Like cashew nuts.
How do I look at you without losing my mind?
How do I sleep when you're not in my arms?
How do I dance without you by my side?
The trumpets begin to take over and zigzag in the air, flying out like caged birds before the enthusiasm falls and the strawberries return to hit my back... Softly. Electronically. Gently. Gracefully. Patiently. Wisely. Accurately. Artistically. Are there any better ways to talk about the piano? I don't know. I've done my best to find the physical counterpart for sounds but keep coming up with abstract things. Like feelings and concepts. Maybe the Universe is made of abstract things too.
How do I look at you without shaking my legs?
How do I hold you without sweating my hands?
How do I kiss your lips without bursting into flames?
This song means so much to me. A woman took over this verse and she's had me thinking about my boy and all about the music and my promise. I hope there's a song about coming to Earth for the first time. I don't know how it's gonna happen. Luckily, he doesn't expect me to. So I don't have to care. I'm sure there's a song about being concern free. Yup, that's Bullfighters style.
You got me on fire
I'm burning inside
My dear, my dear, my dear
Let me love you, it will feel just right.
I want this to be the song I fall asleep to. And so far it's working. The song is on repeat so I'm hoping when I come along the lines of I've fallen in love completely in my sleep, I'll see his face again in our secret place. Where I can grab him and love him and keep him. For a while.
Dad once said that moments last forever even long after we've lived them through. And I know we've created some infinite moments of our own already, which puts a smile on my face as I close my eyes and dream.
I dream about my boy and our call. And about my favorite songs and Rhiannon and Thea. About meeting my dad and Mylo, even though I don't know what he looks like.
Oddly though, I find myself on my bed in the morning. SheraPova's song is still playing. I jerk out the ear buds and look around with utter shock. My heartbeats accelerate.
Something is wrong.
I didn't meet Blake!
38
The walk to the Track Station is silent. Rhiannon knows I don't like the idea. But asking for sympathy is childish. And I'm not going to receive any in a place this dim, guarded by clone soldiers on either side.
My Kronite is up all the way to my collarbone.
Rhiannon must know I'm frustrated. But he doesn't attempt to talk to me about Cinder's intentions. I know it's not his fault. I just wish he could have argued about it. Artemis doesn't think twice about what he decides when it comes to me. But I guess another shot of Amnesia won't hurt.
We get into the egg-shaped car and the seat-belts automatically embrace me to my seat. The car begins to accelerate and a few working lights in the tunnel's ceiling flash on.
"Is it going to be difficult?"
"No," says Rhiannon.
"What am I going to do?"
"You know it won't help to tell. You'll only forget," he reaches into the little compartment box between our seats and pulls out a syringe. "Here, be a good deer."
I lay my head in his hands and brace myself as he plunges the green fluid into my neck.
"There."
I position myself back against my seat. Now I will forget almost everything I am.
"I know it sucks. But it's only for an hour."
I chuckle, "Rhiannon, everything sucks."
The green fluid has its side effects: drowsiness.
The way ahead is pitch black and it makes it easier for my eyes to get bored. I calmly relax and let go of my senses. Deeper and deeper I go.
The stars drift across the red/blue sky, dressed in cotton clouds. I walk through the woods, following the sound of a creek and stop under a large rock, jutting above my head. Water pours over the rock and falls down like a miniature waterfall. I sit on a stone slab and pull my legs in, watching the water pour and listening to nature's music: trickling, splashing waters, chirping birds and croaking frogs.
I could stay here forever. Every breath I take fills me up with life. Sizzling life. All of nature is growing, always becoming. Always moving and expanding, reaching for more. The landscape is so picturesque, I wish I had it hung in my bedroom.
Suddenly, a hand shields my view. I reach up to pull it away but it won't budge.
"Blake!"
He laughs, letting go. "That was easy."
I smile as he sits beside me on the slab, "Who else comes here?"
"Who knows. You could be cheating on me behind my back! Is that why we didn't see each other last night?"
"Haha, no idiot. I'm not cheating. And I don't know why we didn't meet. I got scared when I woke up."
"Wasn't the usual."
"Yeah."
"Maybe our utopia doesn't come every night."
I sigh, "Now that's frightening. At least you're here now."
"I slept in class again. They'll wake me up anytime."
"Oh. And I'm on my way for another dumb Amnesia Trial. I'm supposed to wake up forgetting who I am and fight in some simulated adventure."
"Sounds cool."
"I don't want to forget about you too, Blake. And Cinder, my human watchdog, wants to probe into my mind."
"Hack in?"
"Sort of. I don't want him to see anything to do with you in my head."
"Can he?"
"I don't know exactly what he sees. But there are ways to study my brain activity. And because I spend 50% of my thoughts on you, I'm a bit scared."
Blake wraps his arm over my shoulder. "It's okay. I don't think he can see all this," he gestures to the world in front of us.
"I hope not," I say. "I guess I should free myself from concern."
"You should."
I smile, "I just wish I was normal."
"Hey, if you were normal I wouldn't have the hots for you."
He makes me laugh again and it feels so right in his arms. In a place like this. I nudge him in the side. "I mean I want to live a life less complicated. You know the song, Sticky Behavior?"
"'course I do."
"I love it! You know some songs speak to you, others speak for you. That song does both for me."
"Would you like me to sing it for you, right now?"
My eyes light up a thousand watts more. "I would love that!"
"Sit on my lap. I'm gonna serenade to you."
I giggle. "Okay." His legs hang over the slab and I sit on his laps. He holds me so I don't fall off with the water, arching a few inches from my head. A few drops hit me but I don't mind. He's singing to me and holding me and it's all I need.
You dressing like her
She dressing like me
I'm walking to the shop
To buy the same things
I wanna go to church in a swimsuit
Who gives a shit about what we do?
And I jump in with the chorus, singing into
his cheek because that's how our faces our positioned.
Woah! Woah!
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Woah! Woah!
Ah-ah-ah-oh!
I'm swaying like the way Holly Mae does in the video when she sings that part, moving her hips as she saunters to the church building. Where everyone starts staring and pointing at her because she's in a blue swimsuit and they are all dressed to the nines. But she's being Holly and I love that. She makes me wanna be me.
We don't have much time and he senses my impatience. He turns my face and brushes his lips over mine. Softly. And exquisitely. Squeezing my waist and moving his hands up my back.
His lips are like an electronic piano. They're wise and accurate. Artistic. Exact. Patient and graceful.
I love it when he lingers to taste the film on my lips before launching into me again, full and deep. I love how we easily fall into rhythm. And how I get better at responding to his kisses with each day.
It doesn't last for as long as I want. He begins to slip away. And he knows it. He's holding onto me harder and I'm all over him but there's no escape.
"You're waking up, Blake," I whisper.
"Not now."
But he goes, fading into a translucent hologram. His lips are no longer tangible. And when he's gone, it's like the whole world and the whole dream is gone.
And I have no memory of what happened. Of who I am or where I was.
The ground beneath me is hard as I lie face down. I push myself up to meet with the piercing sunlight. The translucent dome magnifies the light and the entire sky appears as a bright lamp, caging me in this foreign world.
With one hand blocking the sun, I stand up.
Crowds of people walk right by me as if I'm invisible. They must be programmed!
I sweep a look around. My locality is a concrete path filled with sculptures of past Lebras, lining towards me in order. When I don't see any sculptures behind me, I know I am positioned to be the last one.
A green park flanks the stone path to the left, bearing more statues, and on the opposite side towering buildings gleam in the monstrous light from the sky. The very sight of the narrow turrets, tailoring the skyline, engulfed by sunshine makes my eyes well up.
Through the tears I catch a glimpse of a silhouette, resembling a gorilla. As I rub my eyes, it all comes to focus: standing on a gigantic statue of Artemis is a robot, loaded with ammunition all the way and wired up for battle.