by S. L. Naeole
I put the card back in the envelope and placed it on the dresser. I had never brought flowers to mom’s grave before, and I couldn’t think of a reason why. Today would be the first time, and the fact that he’d been the one to give me cause enough to do it was strangely comforting.
I set that thought aside while I looked at my window. It wasn’t open. I walked over to it, and tried to lift it up, but saw the lock was still in place. “I wonder how he did that.” Surely he didn’t come in through the front door? I remembered the vision Robert had shown me of him “calling” my pencil over to him. Could he have done that? Simply “told” my window to unlock and open?
I sat back down on the bed, and scooted across to the other side where the nightstand stood, a relic from Dad’s days as a bachelor. I pulled open the large drawer and found the item in there that had seen minimal use since it was first brought in, its necessity viewed only by a hopeful father who had thought I’d have girlfriends calling at all hours, instead of the boy next door looking for someone to challenge to a burping contest.
I pulled the phone out of the drawer, and placed it in my lap. It was an old, rectangular corded model with large, backlit buttons on the receiver. I think at one point it had been white, but with time and age, it had turned into a muted yellowish gray; it looked sickly.
I picked up the receiver and started to dial…what? I didn’t know Robert’s phone number. I didn’t even know if he had a phone. Or a house for that matter. Surely he must have some place he went to, right?
I placed the receiver back on the cradle and stared at the phone. How could I not know what his phone number was, and yet know all of this other information about him that was so personal and private? It seemed so lopsided; I couldn’t do anything but sit and frown at my total ignorance.
Suddenly a thought popped into my head that seemed so ridiculously simple, I felt like a total idiot for about three seconds. Of course! I may not have a phone number to reach him, but I had something better. I had Lark!
I focused on the single thought of Lark’s name. Her ability to hear any thought, see any vision from unlimited distances was my key to getting through to Robert. I concentrated on getting her to hear me through the countless voices I was sure she was currently listening to. I felt like a statue, I was so still, but my mind was in motion, racing through endless nothing in hopes that somewhere, I’d find what I was searching for.
It wasn’t long before I heard her voice in my head, like a song that had been written just for me. I’m glad you’ve finally figured out how to do it. I was getting close to thinking you were simple or something.
I sighed in relief. It had worked! Lark! It worked! Wow, this is amazing!
Yes. Amazing. Great. You’re looking for my brother I take it?
Ridiculously, I nodded my head. I realized that I don’t have a phone number to reach him. Or an address. I-I wasn’t sure if you guys actually had a place to live or…
I could hear the tone in her melody change. It lowered, the mood somewhat darker. Or what? Did you think we were homeless, Grace? Or that we lived on some fluffy white cloud while playing harps and eating cream cheese? I’m sorry if my brother was rude in not giving you his number or bringing you to our home, but don’t assume that simply because you don’t see it, it doesn’t exist. Especially knowing now what walks among you.
The blush of embarrassment that crept across my face seemed to be screaming “I told you so!” because Lark did something that sounded a lot like laughter.
I’ll tell Robert of your concerns--he’ll be there in a minute or two. Open your window.
My eyes widened at her instructions. Did the necessity of unlocking my window mean that Robert actually had come through the front door while everyone was asleep? I got off of the bed quickly and did as I was instructed, not knowing whether I should lift it up. I sat back on the edge of the bed facing the window, and waited. I was thankful that the alarm clock on my dresser was a digital one so that I wouldn’t have to hear the tick-tick of time creeping by while I waited.
By the time I started getting anxious and contemplated counting by Mississippis, I noticed the shadow blocking out the soft morning glow. It looked like a storm cloud had decided to take shape right outside of my window, and I frantically worked to raise the glass wall, hoping none of the neighbors would see, all the while specks of gray haze were flowing through the cracks between the window and the frame.
As I struggled to raise the window, the wall of gray cloud slowly entered my room, flowing all around like a fog, wrapping itself around the bed, the dresser, sliding across the walls, before enveloping me in a sweet mist. I could do nothing; I was so in awe of what I was witnessing—I didn’t even breathe. The vapor began to solidify around me, slowly taking shape, curls of gray smoke turning into arms that were folded across my back, stray wisps that became hair of jet, and two liquid silver dew drops became the eyes that I could always see, even when my own were closed.
“You called?” he asked silkily.
I sputtered out an incoherent response and he laughed. Rather than attempt to answer him again, I placed my head against his shoulder and nodded, embarrassed and yet thankful. He could disappear into mist, he could fly, he could read minds. What was it that he couldn’t do?
“I can’t sneak into houses with vases and flowers.” He laughed softly, pulling away from me and motioned with his head to the blossom that seemed to stand out on my bare dresser. “Do you like it?”
“Y-yes. It’s beautiful. But how did you get it in here?”
“Well, your window was open last night. I simply locked it on my way out. I thought it was best.”
“You locked it? Why?”
“So that once I was gone, I wouldn’t be tempted to come back in. It was very difficult to leave; you looked so peaceful in your sleep, and it felt very comforting to see that. I didn’t want to disturb you with my questions.”
“You have questions?” I was shocked. He could read my mind. What would he need to ask me questions for?
“Grace, several times yesterday, your mind—it felt like you had turned your entire brain off—all I could hear were my own thoughts echoing around in there, as though I had walked into an empty hallway.” He had that familiar pucker between his brows, the one that appeared when he was concerned about something.
“Really?” I stood there with my mouth open, probably looking like a paralyzed goldfish. “I didn’t do anything different. At least, I don’t think I did.”
“Of course you didn’t. You didn’t realize any of it. You kept talking and going on about things, but when your mind would blink out, it felt very…odd. Like when a television loses audio feed, but the video is still going.”
I didn’t see what I had done differently, or what could have triggered the—for lack of a better term—blackouts that he’d had with my mind. “Do you have an idea why?”
“I have a few ideas, but all of my questions really have nothing to do with that.”
“Oh. Well, what questions do you have for me, then?”
“Well, first, I would like to know what you are doing this evening.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never really planned my days out. No real social life, you know.”
He smiled. “Well-” he pulled me to sit on the edge of the bed “-I was thinking that perhaps you would like to come with me to visit a friend of mine.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Visit a friend with you? Who is it?”
“Someone very special to me, and someone who I know will be able to answer many of the questions that you might have yourself.”
“O-kay…so what exactly should I wear to visit this friend of yours?”
He brought his hand to his chin and rubbed it, seeming to contemplate the answer to my question. “I think that you will need to wear something semi-formal.”
I heard the air rush into my lungs as I gasped, and the thud of my jaw as it lowered as far as physics could allow. “S-s-semi-f-for-formal?
”
“Yes. Is that going to be a problem?”
I made a guttural sound that was extremely unladylike. “Problem? I had to ask Janice for a skirt. I don’t own anything besides old jeans and older t-shirts. The only semi-formal thing I ever owned was a dress I wore when I was seven to my mom’s funeral. Besides, even if I had wanted or needed such things, we never had the money to buy them.”
He sighed, a humble sound, and put his hand beneath my chin. “I will find you something suitable to wear, if you don’t mind.”
I shook my head. “I-I don’t think I could accept it, it wouldn’t be right. Perhaps you should visit this friend by yourself.” The idea of Robert picking and choosing an outfit for me was mortifying. So much so, I’d rather skip an evening alone with Robert to prevent it from happening.
“Grace, you can accept my secrets, my horrors, and my friendship, but not a simple dress?” He had heard my thoughts, felt my embarrassment. “If you can go against the natural sway of my ability, then surely you can go against the sway of your own pride.”
I looked at his face, from the amused lines surrounding his perfect mouth, to the burning silver fire in his eyes. For the first time since I had looked into them, I could see my reflection as he saw it. Not merely a biased vision through his thoughts, but who I was reflected in the mirrored depths that watched me with such an intense gaze.
I was stubborn and strong, and it could be seen in the way the morning sunlight glinted in my eyes, the way the lines in my lips deepened when I came to a decision, the way my cheeks grew red when the pride that forced me to bend to nothing else took a hold of me. And for a moment, though fleeting, I could see that indeed, I was different in a way that could be beautiful.
Robert’s face brightened with an enormous smile. “And so you see the truth, finally.” He leaned forward and kissed my hair. I could feel the smile still there on his lips as he spoke. “Grace, please. It would mean a great deal if you would come with me tonight. If it would make you feel better, I could ask Lark to get your dress instead. I may be older than her, but I’m fairly certain that she’s got much better taste in clothing than I do.”
The thought of Lark shopping for me scared me even more so than Robert. I shook my head. “No. If you want me to go so badly, then it should be in something you’d want me to wear. This is your friend, after all.” I pulled my head away so that I could look at him. “But—please, I’m begging you here—no ruffles.”
His deep, beautiful laugh rang out and filled my room with its sweet sound. I tried to hush him, not wanting Dad or Janice to hear, but he only laughed louder. “Grace, Janice and your father are not here. I have not heard their thoughts since I’ve been here. Let me laugh as loudly as I like, because you have allowed me to sway you. I might be an angel after all!”
I took a moment to allow him his joy before asking, “They’re not here?” That information was very shocking to me. Where would they have gone so early in the morning?
“While I was here yesterday, I noticed that Janice had been thinking about some tests she had to take this morning. She was worried because had she been younger, she wouldn’t have had to take them. It causes her to worry about the baby.”
I felt the heaviness of that small slice of reality settle on me. “Ugh, why is it always so up and down?” I sank even deeper into the mattress of the bed. “Can’t I have at least one day of happiness without the world crashing down on me? A month ago I didn’t even want Janice around, and now I’m worrying about her and the baby. It’s like something is around my neck, Robert, and I can’t breathe!”
“Grace, don’t worry about Janice and the baby. They will be fine. She’s healthy, and the baby is, too.” Robert looked at me, his face a roadmap of concern, kindness, compassion, and caring. I felt the strong enclosure of his arms surround me, but it was his voice that gave me the greatest comfort. “There is nothing to worry about, trust me. I have it on good authority.”
I smiled, and sighed in relief. I could trust him. I knew that more than anything else in this world.
Wrapping my arms around him and taking a deep breath, I marveled at the way the day was beginning. “It’s not even seven o’clock and I’m ready to sleep in until Sunday. So, now that we’ve gone through my dramatic moment of the day, can I ask you where are we going tonight that requires me to be dressed so semi-formally?”
“Well, my friend-” the way he said friend seemed almost mocking “-I would like to take you to a wedding for the granddaughter of a friend of mine.”
A wedding for the granddaughter of a friend? “How long have you known this friend?”
“I’ve known the family for nearly fifty years. Well, I should say that we’ve known the family for nearly fifty years. Lark and my mother will be there as well tonight.”
“So will this meeting be like the last one? With secrets and revelations coming forward?” I asked playfully.
“There will be some surprises, yes. But we’ll talk about that later. You have a day planned with Graham, and I don’t want to ruin it.” He eased away from me, my arms no match for his casual strength. “I will be back here at five, with your dress.”
The word “dress” sent a cold chill down my spine. “Um—what color are you planning on getting this dress in?” The way I said “dress” made it sound like it was an expletive.
“I was thinking something in green. It would suit your coloring quite nicely. With no ruffles, of course.”
I could find no fault in the color choice, and would have to trust that he’d choose something that didn’t make me look like the frosting on a sickly looking cupcake. I couldn’t do anything else.
“Fine. I wear a size two, just in case you were wondering. I’d hate for you to go to all this trouble only to purchase something that doesn’t fit.”
An amused grin spread across his face. “So you would be more concerned with the trouble I had gone through to get the dress, than if I brought you one that was a few sizes too big to fit or the connotations that could be made as a result?”
My lips pulled tight into a very concentrated frown. “It will be baggy on me anyway, so what’s it being a few sizes too big going to do? Make sure it has some kind of tie in the back so that I can at least cinch it in a bit. I don’t want to embarrass you too greatly in front of your friends.”
He pulled me back into his embrace, squeezing me tightly, but gently. “Stop thinking so little of yourself. Did you not just see how beautiful you are? I will be showing you off tonight, in a dress that will make you look like the treasure that you are, and there will be nothing that you can do, say, or wear that will embarrass me in front of my friends. Alright?” He kissed the top of my head again.
I nodded my head. He had done it again. “You’re definitely an angel. You’ve gotten your way twice in less than an hour with the two things that I haven’t been able to do since I was a child: wear a dress and feel good about myself. Only someone with divine powers could accomplish such a feat.”
His laughter once again filled the room, and this time I let the sound fill me. I could afford that now, knowing that no one was going to come barging in with shock and accusations. It was such a wonderful feeling, I couldn’t help but laugh with him.
The joy I felt at hearing our mixed laughter bouncing around the room, coupled with the warmth I felt, not just from the morning sun streaming through my window, but also from that place deep within me that appreciated the wonder that was happiness, melded to form a great bond around my quickly beating heart, turning it into something that I knew was strong, much stronger than I had ever imagined possible.
You are incredible.
And with a soft kiss on my forehead, and an even softer whisper of goodbye, he dematerialized into a faint mist again and slowly made his way out of my window. I watched as he disappeared, already missing the feel of his arms wrapped around me. Quickly, before I knew he was out of my mind’s reach, I asked him one pressing question.
It’s a sta
rgazer lily, because now you have more than one reason to look up at the sky.
I couldn’t help but smile. I hugged myself; the idea that he had put so much thought into something as simple as a flower just for me was overwhelming and surprising. Surely, I didn’t deserve so much as this? Sighing, I reached for the phone once more and dialed Graham’s number.
91
By the time Graham honked his horn, announcing that he was ready to leave, it was well past nine. As soon as I told him that Janice and Dad weren’t home, all motivation to rush on over were gone for him since he knew that meant no hot breakfast would be waiting him in the kitchen. I was content with a bagel and some orange juice while he needed hulking amounts of everything.
I wrote a quick note to let Dad know where I would be, not wanting to have him come home to an empty house and not knowing where I was. I made sure to grab the vase that contained Robert’s flower before heading out the door, opting not to take the crutches, and instead expound on the perceived wonders of painkillers. I was still feeling overwhelmed by Robert’s gesture that did wonders to push me closer and closer to that edge where friendship ended and something else that I knew I wanted desperately began.
Graham eyed the solitary blossom with speculative eyes. “Where’d you get that?”
I placed the vase between my knees as I buckled my seat belt. “Robert brought it over this morning to place on Mom’s grave.”
He looked at me as though I had just told him that the world was rectangular in shape and was governed by two headed goats. “He brought them over this morning?”
“Yes. He said he wanted me to put this vase and flower on her grave, as a way of thanking her for giving birth to me.” I enjoyed hearing the words come out of my lips. It solidified the sentiment, cemented it. I was even more pleased with Graham’s reaction.