I headed for the bedroom but could not help turning back as I reached the door.
This wasn’t a dream. Saorise was sleeping on my couch.
The hectic panic of her entry and the necessity of looking after her had not given me time to stop and process the actuality of what had happened. It was like a dream had taken on flesh and fallen through my door. She had clearly been in some sort of trouble and had come to my door. We hadn't seen each other for twenty years and, though I would never have admitted it to myself, it should have been far more likely that she did not even remember me.
Not only had she remembered me, but when she was in trouble, it was to me she had come.
I went to bed, but I slept only fitfully. My dreams, which I had expected to be filled with images from that Irish vacation, were instead dark and violent. I felt trapped. I felt rope and chain against my skin, I felt a tremendous sense of loss. I saw ugly faces looming in on me and strange creatures as trapped as I was. I felt danger, I felt naked, I felt fear, I felt the overwhelming need to escape. Where these dreams came from I could not say. During the night, I got up to get a glass of water and passed Saorise. I heard her turn over sharply, as if flinching away from something, and heard her moan in her sleep. Apparently, she was having nightmares, too.
Sleep eventually came and when I woke, the rainclouds of the last night had cleared and early morning sun was streaming through my window. It took a minute for my brain to put itself back together and recall the night before. Had it all been a dream? It hadn't felt like one but surely Saorise could not be sleeping on my couch? Perhaps it had just been some homeless person in need of help and I had let nostalgia and my melancholy over the break-up with Benny overwhelm my better judgment. My childhood friend could not be in my living room.
Had it all been a vivid dream?
One way to find out. I got up quickly, tucking my feet into slippers, and tip-toed across the room - whoever was on my couch, assuming someone was, I didn't want to wake them. I need not have worried. The couch was unoccupied, though the blankets remained. At the window, a figure stood, naked and so light-skinned that the sun seemed almost to shine through her and made a red halo about her hair. She turned her head on hearing my door open and I saw green eyes, full of life, and a quick smile that sprang to her lips as easy and natural as I remembered.
"Saorise..." I breathed, any lingering doubt forgotten.
"Sienna." She ran across the room and I met her halfway to embrace her. "I found you."
"I can't believe it's you."
After a long minute of hugging, we parted. "I should find you some clothes."
"Okay." Saorise shrugged, apparently not that concerned by her nakedness.
When I came back with clothes for her to wear, I found that Saorise had tidied the couch and folded the blankets.
"Thanks."
"Seems like the least I could do in the circumstances." She grinned as she took the clothes from me.
"Yeah." I didn't want to push her on the subject if something traumatic had happened, but I had to at least broach it. "What were the circumstances, exactly?"
Saorise opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She looked confused, almost scared by her own silence. "I don't think I can..."
"It's okay," I hastened to add. "You don't have to say if you don't... You know. You're very welcome here and... well, why ever you're here and whatever brought you, I'm really happy to see you."
Happy didn't cover it. It surely couldn't be as it was when we were children? When you're a kid the next smile is all that matters. Life gets more complicated as you grow up, and the purity of happiness that children are blessed with is no longer an option. But seeing Saorise, it felt as if that simple joy was mine again, and I saw the same reflected in her face, a face I recognized though I did not know it at all.
"So... What's new with you?"
And with that, it was as if the intervening years had not happened. Well... we didn't run around like mad things, build sand castles on my carpet or splash about in the bath, it was more as if we hadn't been out of touch for all that time. If in some alternate reality, another version of Sienna and Saorise had gotten to grow up together, then they could not have been any closer than Saorise and I now felt, meeting up after so long apart. As I made breakfast for us both, Saorise perched on the work surface in my kitchen and we chatted happily away, laughing, interrupting each other and finishing one another's sentences as we went.
I realized that, although we were both doing equal shares of the talking, it seemed as if I was the only one who was saying anything. In the time we'd been chatting, I had caught Saorise up on my family, on my schooling, my training and my dream job of veterinary nurse, I had even shared with her my current, and frustratingly vague, dissatisfaction with my life, something I had not shared with any of my friends or family yet.
And in return, Saorise had learned all this about me. It was not that she had sat there and listened or that I had deliberately monopolized the conversation, but when she spoke then, it was to ask questions about what I said or offer opinions and commentary. When I asked about her life in polite reply, enquiring about her family and what had brought her to the States, then she somehow took the subject at a tangent and it would be some minutes before I realized that she had not actually answered.
Was it deliberate?
She had not seemed able or willing to talk about what had brought her to my door, but I had assumed that that had been because it was some traumatic event. Was her presence in this country linked to that? Were her family? Or was she just generally closed lipped. I hadn't considered it when we were kids, of course, but while she had met my parents - and seen my brother as he ran past - I had seen none of her family at all. I didn't even know if she had family.
Perhaps because of that, I didn't push now. Partly, of course, I didn't want to press her on what was clearly a difficult subject, for whatever reason. But there was also a part of me that wanted to maintain the impression of Saorise I had always had - of being just Saorise. She had changed so much, and yet she had not changed at all.
We ate together cross-legged on the sofa, facing each other, the presence of food not slowing our chatter, and when we finished, we placed plates and mugs on the floor beside us and kept talking in the same happy fashion.
Finally, perhaps just because we needed to pause for breath, a lull did come and we just looked at each other.
"It's really good to see you again," said Saorise. "I didn't think I ever would."
"How did you find me?" I asked. Surely that was a safe question? As long as I didn't ask why.
"I was in town." Saorise's words suddenly seemed to come a little less easily - I could see the tendons standing out in the white skin of her throat. "I... wanted to see you and there you were."
There was presumably more to that. But just that much response seemed to have cost her a physical effort, so I left it there.
"So what now?" I asked, trying to perk the mood back up again.
"Can I stay with you?"
I laughed out loud. "Of course, you can! I'm never letting you go!"
It might have been my imagination but I was sure that, just for a moment when I said the words 'I'm never letting you go', I saw a spasm of cold fear pass across Saorise's face. Maybe I had misread the expression, perhaps she had shivered from a sudden chill or something. But fear was my strong impression of it, and the sight unnerved me.
"That's really kind of you,” Saorise said with a smile a moment later, the haunted expression on her face fading as quickly as it had come.
"You looked after me," I pointed out, "way back then. It's about time that I repaid the favor."
She grinned. "Now, I come to think of it, you're right. I showed you all the best of where I lived, I'd love to see the sights."
"What are we waiting for?"
We spent a great day checking out the must-see sights of the city. You never really know a place until you see it through someone else's eyes, and wh
at I found was that, however impressive the Empire State, the Statue of Liberty or the Met are, to me, they pale in comparison to the smaller, more personal landmarks.
And I was delighted, though not that surprised, to find that Saorise felt the same way. Cavalier's Coffee, situated not far from my apartment, was one of those places which seems invisible to the average passerby but was a haven for people like me who were a little odd.
Saorise fit right in, and sat, sipping a frappucino as she gazed at the walls lined with books, art by local artists and various bits and pieces fished out of other people's garbage. We lunched at my favorite pizza place, an underground joint where the kitchens were open and made it feel as if the tables were situated just outside the mouth of hell.
We went to the roof of my building and Saorise stood on the edge fearlessly, with the whole city spread out beneath her, and whispered, “Sienna and Saorise. Friends forever."
As afternoon wore on, I led the way to a neglected spot on Newtown Creek - everybody does the Hudson and the East River.
"Okay, here's what you do." I stood behind Saorise and guided her hands with mine. "You look straight down at those buildings over there - I don't know what they are. Then you put your right hand up by your eyes - like this - to block off your view that way, and boom! You're in the nineteenth century. I don't think that view has changed since... Okay, so now you have to ignore the motor boat, but you get what I'm saying. Saorise?"
Her eyes had glazed over as she stared at the water.
"Saorise, are you okay?"
She snapped out of it and gave me a smile, more wan now. "Suddenly feeling homesick."
“This reminds you of Ireland?” I demanded with a snort. “I mean, I know there's a lot of people in this city who like to make pretend that New York is a little bit of the old country, but most of those people wouldn't know Killarney from Kill Bill."
Saorise laughed and shook her head. "Just the river, I guess."
She looked back over her shoulder, her green eyes flicking left and right, searching for something but apparently not finding it. As she did so, there was an anxiety in her face that came close to the fear I had seen in it earlier.
"How about we go home? We've walked a million miles today."
We headed back to my apartment and Saorise stared out the window of the bus, pointing at things and places and asking where and what they were so much that my limited knowledge was soon exhausted. But the wonderful thing about Saorise was that other people seemed drawn to her in a spirit of pure goodwill, and soon the whole bus was pitching in to answer her questions.
"Thanks for today," she murmured as we entered my apartment.
"Thank you. I had fun. Like old times."
Sure, we had been running around a big, busy city rather than a deserted beach, but it had still felt like a little slice of way back when.
Saorise turned and took my hands. "I did miss you those years, you know. It's funny how you can meet a person for so brief a time and they can stay with you. There are people who I've known for far longer who - I don't think I could remember their names."
It was a relief to know that she had felt the same as me all this time, but it was also quietly wonderful, because it meant that now we really would be friends forever. Adults get to stay in touch in ways that kids generally don't. And, of course, these days there's always Facebook.
"I'm just so glad we got to meet up again," I replied.
Saorise shrugged and gave me her bright smile. "We'd have been friends anyway. If we'd never met again, then we'd still have been friends."
"I prefer this way."
"Me, too. When I was in trouble, I knew exactly where to turn."
I caught my breath as she spoke and waited to see if more was coming - not feeling like I could ask but desperate to hear more. But as the words had left Saorise's lips, she stumbled and bent over slightly, touching her stomach as if she felt suddenly unwell.
"Saorise?"
The color had gone out of her face but when she looked at me it was with a smile. "Maybe New York food doesn't agree with me yet."
"Do you think Chinese would settle your stomach?"
"I do. I really do."
Of course, I wanted to ask more, but it seemed that my best chance of learning what had happened to her, what had led her to my door in the state she had been in, was to wait for it to come when she was ready.
I could be patient.
We had a lovely meal together, then sat up watching TV and talking over it late into the night, and swore that tomorrow we would do it all over again - just as we had when we were kids.
By the time four more days had passed, I no longer found there to be anything odd about Saorise living on my couch. In fact, I weirdly struggled to recall a time when she wasn't there in my apartment as part of my life. It never got old, we never ran out of things to talk about, we never stopped being able to make each other smile or giggle or sympathize when the subject called for it.
I cried a little on her shoulder over Benny - which was more than he deserved, Saorise said. She made me laugh re-enacting stuff we had done or conversations we had had when we were children - which she remembered with a pinpoint clarity I envied. She even got to know Jessie and followed my lead, treating her like a real dog.
Of course, on the Monday I had to go back to work - I thought about calling in sick but I don't like to do that - it was nice to come home to a friendly face who had cooked and wanted to hear about my day. Through those days, no more came out about what had brought her here but it didn't really matter, we were both having too much fun. I wondered if she had plans to move on but didn't ask because I didn't want it to seem like I was hinting that she should leave, and because if she did, then I didn't want to know. Why question something that suited us both so well?
And then she was gone.
Initially, when I got back home after work to find the apartment empty, I wondered if she might have gone out shopping or for a walk or something. She wasn't a prisoner, she was free to come and go as she pleased - I had even given her a key. But immediately I felt that she had gone. I waited an hour, until we would usually have had dinner together, and then I went out looking. I went to Cavalier's to see if anyone there had seen her, but she had not been in. I went to all our favorite haunts that I could think of, but all to no avail.
Hunched and morose, I plodded back in the direction of my apartment, wondering if I should call the police and what I could reasonably tell them if I did. On the one hand, I was terrified that something might have happened to her and badly needed to know that she was okay. On the other, I was haunted by the selfish fear that nothing had happened to her and she had just become tired of my company and wanted to move on.
As I was weighing up these two options and not much liking either of them, I became aware of footsteps behind me. Even in my relatively quiet neighborhood, and even at this unsociable time of night, footsteps behind you in New York are not unusual - if you jumped every time you heard them then you'd be jumping all day long. But these steps were matching mine - something I tested by speeding up and slowing down. They seemed deliberate, placed, certain. They were footsteps of purpose.
Perhaps my imagination was getting out of control because of Saorise's disappearance, but I wasn't about to test that theory. I walked quicker. The footsteps sped up. I walked quicker still and they matched me step for step. I broke into a run. So did they.
Rounding a corner quickly, I ducked down an alley to try and throw off my pursuer. But there, up ahead of me, was another figure - tall and dark. It looked to have been waiting for me, and as soon as I entered the alley, it made for me.
I took to my heels again, running as fast as I could. There was no longer any room for doubt.
I wasn't just being chased.
I was being hunted.
Chapter 3
I tried not to panic. Which is not so easy when you're running for your life. Every fiber of my being told me to get home - home was s
afety. But was it safe to lead these two men to my door? If it wasn't then where else could I go? Who could I ask for help? No matter how busy a city is - and New York famously never sleeps – it’s never quieter or the streets more empty than when you need help.
Running blindly on, not looking where I was going, not thinking about where I might be heading, I cannoned into someone.
"Sorry," I said, automatically.
"Miss Chaney?"
I looked up into the face of a strange man with the Emerald Isles in his voice, who apparently knew my name.
"We've been looking for you."
Now, there were three of them, and if I’d been scared before, I was downright terrified now. Maybe I really had lost my mind.
I hurled myself away from him and dashed back the way I had come, only to see my two pursuers. I was trapped between them, and all the panic that I had been doing my best to keep in check flooded its way through my body.
"If you come near me, I'll scream."
The man I had bumped into held up his hands. "Please, don't do that."
Could these people have chased Saorise out of Ireland and followed her here? Could they be the reason she had fled my apartment without even leaving a note?
"Who are you? What do you want?" I tried to bark out the words angrily but they emerged in a terrified squeal.
"My name is Connor," said the same man again, and I saw a pair of vivid green eyes flash at me through the darkness. "This is Patrick - Patch - and Declan. We believe you know our sister, Saorise. And we need to find her. She’s in trouble."
Whether or not I should have believed these three men as easily as I did was a question I asked myself repeatedly as I led them back to my apartment and let them in. Although, perhaps the question should have been why did I believe them so easily?
I think the safest answer was; there was something of Saorise about them. It was not the way they looked, although, they all shared the same green eyes, and Declan, the youngest, had the same red hair and looked as if he could be Saorise's hyper-masculine twin. But there was something about them, the way they held themselves, the way they spoke, an aura they carried. I've never been one to go in for 'auras' and all that new age jazz - mentioning chakras is a sure way to get me to leave the room - but I couldn't come up with any other way to describe it. I had always remembered Saorise as someone who carried her soul before her, and that impression had been confirmed when we met again.
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