Immortal Light: Wide Awake

by John D. Sperry

  Kat was right. Love was when you couldn’t do anything but think about him and couldn’t be anywhere that wasn’t with him, and couldn’t see anything that didn’t remind you of him. Lucy knew she was in love and she wanted to tell the whole world. The only problem was that no one could ever actually know about it because they would ship her off to some asylum for the romantically insane. Then, it occurred to her that Benjamin, the one she kissed, wasn’t real, and she felt her levity drain a little bit.

  “Hang on to it, Lucy. It could still be real,” she said to herself as she applied her lipstick. “It could be real.” She tied to sound hopeful, but it came out more hopeless.

  ***

  The library parking lot was empty on Saturday morning except for Kenny’s tragically dilapidated eyesore. The library itself was equally empty. Kenny was in his office rummaging through boxes of books that he got from who-knows-where. The only days he ever got to the library before Lucy were days when he knew a shipment of books would be made.

  His dark, greasy locks popped up from his work at the sound of Lucy’s backpack hitting the counter.

  “Oh, hi Lucy.” He suddenly looked less interested in his box of books and gave Lucy his undivided attention. “How are you?”

  His tone was awkward, as if forcing himself to be nice, but Lucy also noticed that he looked slightly different, almost like he had been sick. He slouched more than usual and his face was damp with perspiration in spite of the air conditioning.

  “I’m good,” she said with some apprehension. “Are you alright, you look a little …”

  His eyes widened and he looked down at the floor. “Uh, no, I’m fine.” He immediately changed the subject. “Can you grab this box and scan them? Thanks.” He slowly walked back into his office and closed the door.

  Lucy shook her head at the strangeness of her boss. She felt bad for all the things she thought about him. He was creepy and awkward, but he had never seemed threatening.

  Mrs. Breen was the last to arrive at the library, as usual. She and Lucy greeted each other as was their custom: with a hug and a smile. Mrs. Breen instantly realized that something was afoot in Lucy’s life.

  “Oh, dear me, is someone in love?” Mrs. Breen said, smiling scandalously as Lucy danced back to her computer desk.

  Lucy froze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said as she continued to scan her box of books.

  “Oh, come on, sweetheart, I’ve been around for a while now, and I know when a young lady’s in love. Now who is the lucky fellow, and does he deserve you at all?”

  Lucy blushed. She didn’t know how to answer. It wasn’t as simple as just being in love; there was a complexity to it that even Mrs. Breen, in her vast catalog of experience, might find a little odd.

  “It’s no one, really. I just had, well, a really nice dream, and there might have been a guy there.”

  Mrs. Breen shot a playfully cautious look at Lucy and the two chuckled. “Well, I certainly hope your dreams are staying PG-rated.”

  “Mrs. Breen.” Lucy responded in a scandalized tone, her embarrassment reaching new heights. “It was rated ‘G’; it was only …” She took a breath in an effort to reduce the color of her cheeks to a cherry blossom pink rather than a fire engine red. “We just sort of … kissed.” She said the words softly in the hope that Mrs. Breen hadn’t heard.

  “Goodness, a kiss? You can learn a lot about someone by how they kiss. Tell me all about it, and I’ll tell you if he’s worth it.” Mrs. Breen wore a supportive grin on her face.

  Lucy bit her bottom lip and wrestled with what to say when Mrs. Breen cut back in.

  “So, I’m guessing you’re not going to give the juicy details. Heaven knows, darlin’, I’ve probably experienced it all anyhow. At least tell me if he was fiction or non-fiction.”

  I can’t believe I’m going to say this, she thought just a fraction of a second before speaking. “Well, he’s a little of both. He’s a real guy, but he’s not really interested in me.”

  “How could any boy not be interested in you? You’re beautiful, darlin’, and I ain’t just sayin’ that. If I had half your looks when I was your age, my father would have had to beat them away with a stick.”

  Lucy smiled appreciatively.

  Mrs. Breen continued, “And if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, you’re filling out quite nicely.”

  Not truly believing her ears, Lucy could feel the red coming back, and Mrs. Breen simply winked at her. Having been completely embarrassed and surprisingly complemented in the same sentence, Lucy went back to scanning her books. A few moments of silence passed as Mrs. Breen logged onto her computer.

  “I’ll tell you what, darlin’,” Mrs. Breen continued as though the conversation had never paused. “You got to be careful with dreams. If you don’t do somethin’ about ‘em, you might really never have a shot with your guy,” she looked up at Lucy over the tops of her glasses, “whoever he might be.”

  The hint was sent and received. Lucy wheeled her chair over to Mrs. Breen’s desk and looked to see that Kenny was still occupied in his office.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you,” she said in a very conspiratorial and hushed tone that got Mrs. Breen’s attention so fully that she pulled her glasses off and let them hang from their chain around her neck.

  “I’m all ears, darlin’.”

  “It’s Benjamin Raven.”

  “Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Breen exclaimed a little too loudly, and the two of them turned to look at Kenny’s office. “You don’t mean my Benjamin—the tall, strong-looking drink of water with the green eyes—do you?”

  Lucy nodded enthusiastically.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, dear, you can’t; not with him.”

  Lucy was perplexed. “Why not?”

  “Oh because, darlin’, he’s mine.” She smiled teasingly and winked again.

  Lucy sighed in relief. “Don’t do that; you had me seriously worried.”

  Mrs. Breen chortled quietly as she reached out and touched Lucy’s hand. Oddly, Lucy felt the energy again, the same she had felt with Benjamin and Mark. It was a more defined sensation than with Mark, but not so precise as with Benjamin. Maybe what Benjamin had explained about the Immortal Light was real.

  “Oh, you go and grab that boy up; he’s an absolute gem in a canyon of stones.”

  Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but she didn’t know how to explain the complexities of their relationship.

  “I’ll do my best, Sandi. I promise,” she said, not wanting to take the conversation any further.

  ***

  The library had been pretty quiet all day, with only a few people coming in.

  “Come on; give the girl a break, you weasel. It’s the last good weekend for the beach. Let her go have fun before it starts getting dark earlier.”

  Lucy tried to stay out of the fights between Mrs. Breen and Kenny, especially when they were in her favor.

  Kenny looked at the clock. “She still needs to be here for another hour; I can’t do anything about that. She’s supposed to—”

  “Oh, stop it. No one’s been in here for nearly two hours. Lord knows I can handle it ‘til six. Let her go.”

  Kenny’s lips tightened in pent up frustration with Mrs. Breen’s logic, and Lucy held her breath as she swept the entryway, waiting for an answer.

  “Fine, she can go,” he said. “What do I care? Lucy, you can go home,” he said, swinging his arms into the air and turning to head back to his office.

  When the door was slammed shut, Lucy smiled widely and caught a playful wink from Mrs. Breen.

  “See, honey, all it takes is a little perseverance.”

  “Are you sure this is okay—with you, I mean? I don’t want you to be alone with …” she jerked her head toward Kenny’s office.

  “Don’t you worry about me. I can handle ol’ Chicken Bones in there.”

  Lucy grabbed her bag, hugged Mrs. Breen, and said goodbye.

  Lucy stepped off the city bus at her stre
et, just as her mother’s car pulled up beside her. “You’re home early.”

  Lucy skipped over to the car and got in. “Yeah, Mrs. Breen told me to go home and get my homework done because it was so dead today.”

  “Great. You can help me with dinner.”

  Lucy smiled as her mother seemed to be receptive to her geniality.

  “Where’s dad? His truck’s not here,” Lucy said as they pulled into the driveway.

  “He’s been in Bandon all day playing golf with the uppity-ups from the concrete company in Florence. He says it’s business.” She smirked at Lucy.

  “Yeah, business, right,” Lucy said sardonically. “More like pleasure.”

  Laura smiled. “Why don’t you make the salad, I’ll get started on the chicken.”

  “What are we having?”

  Laura held up a package of fresh chicken breasts and a package of mozzarella cheese.

  “Ah, Daddy’s favorite.”

  The two women put to work preparing dinner: Lucy with a cutting board on one side of the stove, and Laura on the other side with another cutting board.

  “Your father thinks you’ve learned your lesson,” Laura said as she tenderized a chicken breast.

  The comment caught Lucy off guard. “Really?” she asked, trying not to sound too excited.

  “I hope you understand how disappointed and upset we were that night, but I also hope you understand what it means to have trust. We trust you, sweetheart, we really do, and we are both very proud of you. Make sure you’re careful from now on. All we ask is that you use your best judgment. Do you understand?”

  Lucy ran up to her mother, hugged her, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She felt such a sympathetic and loving energy from her that she wanted to share her own lively and exuberant energy, and she wished and hoped that the light from the haven was real so she could use it on her mother.

  “I completely understand. I really do,” Lucy said, gripping her mother. “Thank you, Mom. I really do appreciate it.”

  Laura returned the hug warmly and answered, “I know you do, sweetheart, I know you do.” The two exchanged a smile. “Now go work on the salad.”

  As Lucy continued dicing tomatoes and celery, the loud knocking diesel engine of her father’s pickup could be heard pulling into the driveway. He made his customary entrance into the kitchen by dropping his wallet, cell phone, and keys on the table.

  “Smells good, what are we having?”

  “My famous chicken parmesan,” Laura responded as she washed her hands at the sink.

  “Now that sounds good,” James said. He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of water and walked it over to a cupboard. “Lucy,” he said, taking a glass down from the top shelf.

  “Yeah?” Lucy responded as she busied herself with finishing the salad.

  “Do you understand why we took your keys from you?”

  “Yes,” she replied subversively. “You wanted me to understand just how disappointing my behavior was by taking away what was important to me.”

  James looked at Lucy as though she had just cheated on a test. “That’s right,” he said skeptically. He looked back and forth between the back of his daughter’s head and the back of his wife’s head. “Did you talk to her already?” he asked his wife.

  Laura didn’t face her husband. “Talk to her about what, dear?”

  “Her car.”

  “I don’t think so,” she replied sweetly, glancing over at Lucy with a wink.

  Mother and daughter smiled. James just looked confused.

  “Well, anyway, we want to give your privileges back, but you really need to prove to us that this kind of thing will never happen again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she responded, again submissively.

  James stood in the middle of the kitchen, obviously out of words. “Okay, then.” He poured his glass of water and took a sip before returning the pitcher to the refrigerator. “So, how long till dinner?” he said, setting his glass on the counter and wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Do you need … any help or anything?” His tone was apprehensive, and Lucy knew that he only asked it to be polite.

  “About an hour, and no, we can handle it.” Laura looked over her shoulder at James. “Go watch your game; we’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.” She smiled lovingly at her husband.

  “Well, if you’re sure,” James said, coming up behind his wife and kissing her on the neck. “I’ll just be in the living room.” He kissed her one more time and then kissed Lucy on the head. The kitchen was silent until the sounds of college football trickled in from the living room.

  After dinner, Lucy cleared the table as Laura started the dishes. James retired to the living room with a manila folder full of paperwork. He sat with his reading glasses perched atop his forehead and the T.V. flashing a replay of the game he was only half-watching. Lucy came in and handed him a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream. James accepted the bowl with a thank you and smiled up at her.

  Just as he was about to take his first bite, the doorbell rang.

  He set the spoon back into the dish and sighed, “Now who the heck is that on a Saturday night?”

  “I’ll get it,” Lucy said, waving her father back down into his chair. James gladly accepted the opportunity to enjoy his dessert.

  In the porch light shining through the semi-opaque glass, Lucy could see a rather tall person on the other side. Opening the door revealed a man that was easily six and a half feet tall. He wore a black jacket and plaid button down shirt tucked into khaki pants. As she made eye contact, she noticed that his eyes were the same brilliantly green shade as Benjamin’s, and she gasped slightly. It was only then that someone else, standing behind the person she didn’t know, came into view. Lucy froze and her heart began to pound. It was Benjamin. He was there at her house. Images of him in the grove raced through her mind and she suddenly couldn’t separate the real from the imaginary. She was petrified in place and couldn’t even utter words of greetings to the very tall and incredibly good looking men at her door.

  The man in front held out his hand to Lucy, “Hi; I’m Peter Raven. Is your father home?”

  Somewhere in the recesses of her brain she had heard the words, and she even understood them, but there was something that wasn’t connecting it to a physiological response, like welcoming them into the house. She just stood, staring, frozen in petrified anxiety.

  Peter just waited as Lucy did nothing.

  From the other side of the door, Lucy could make out her father’s voice as if from a mile away, “Lucy, who is it?”

  She didn’t respond.

  A moment later, James pulled the door open even more to see what was going on. As he did so, he saw his prized architect and elbowed Lucy in the shoulder.

  “Goosey, why haven’t you invited them in, already?”

  Snapping out of her semi-comatose state, she suddenly felt embarrassed at her father’s nickname for her in front of Benjamin’s oldest brother, Peter.

  “I’m sorry, Peter, I don’t know what’s gotten into her; I guess it’s all those teenage hormones and stuff. Come on in.” James left the door wide open and headed back to the living room. Lucy stood by as the two men entered the house.

  Peter stopped in front of Lucy and smiled what must have been a genetically dazzling smile and held out his hand to her again. “So, you’re the Lucy Goosey I’ve heard so much about.”

  Lucy’s face flushed and she grabbed his hand to shake it. The power of the grasp took Lucy by sheer surprise, but it wasn’t the strength of the grip so much as it was the power of the energy that emanated from him. Again, he didn’t seem to be feeling it like everyone else she had touched.

  “Yes, I guess that’s me,” was all she could think to say. She smiled and held on to Peter’s hand.

  “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he responded, smiling and winking, which Lucy was beginning to suspect was another familial genetic tick.

  As Peter headed int
o the living room, Benjamin walked into the house.

  “Hi,” he said, while Lucy just stood and stared. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

  “You look sort of out of it.”

  “Oh, no; it’s just weird that you’re here. I mean, not weird, but just sort of …” She couldn’t manage a single coherent sentence with him standing there.

  Looking at his face, all she could think about was the kiss, the powerful sense of connection she felt with him. She wished in that moment that it was all real.

  Benjamin’s fists were jammed into the pockets of his jacket, the same jacket he wore in the grove and when he rode his motorcycle. While he was still looking at Lucy, he seemed preoccupied. Lucy’s inner-connection to him brought about the same sense of intense sympathy that she had felt in the grove as Benjamin looked at the golden city.

  “I suppose I could ask you the same thing. Are you okay?” Lucy asked after sizing him up.

  Benjamin smiled and pulled his hands out of his jacket.

  “Maybe we should shut this.” He brushed past Lucy as he secured the front door.

  The two walked silently into the living room where Peter and James were already chatting. Lucy stood just a few paces from Benjamin, her heart still pounding. She wanted to grab his hand, but refrained.

  There has to be an easy way to do this. Just say something about the haven, or take his hand. What’s the worst that could happen?

  She took a step closer to him hoping to go unnoticed.

  I’ll tell you what’s the worst that could happen: he could pull away and look at you like you’re a crazy person.

  She had talked herself out of taking any action to verify once and for all the truth about him. Frustration over what was real and not was silently eating her alive as Peter and her father sat in the living room easy chairs talking.