Timeless (ForNever)

by Rosaline Saul

  He leads me up to the top of the first of the three hills, and on the top; he pulls me down with him.

  I sit down and cross my legs in front of me while he lets his leg rest comfortably against mine. He starts to pluck daisies from around him, and then he starts to fashion them into a circle. I watch him in silence, and I cannot help it when my eyes drift to his profile. He has a strong jaw, and there is a muscle, which keeps jumping every so often. His eyelashes are long and dark, and they fan across his cheeks as he looks down at his fingers tying knots in the daisy stems. His nose is perfectly straight, and his lips are full and ever so slightly tinted. His full eyebrows are dark, just like his hair—a rich coffee brown. His hair is longish, but not too long and brushed away from his face in a messy, haphazard sort of way. I notice he and Kieran have the same forehead, nose, and chin, but other than that, you would never guess they were brothers.

  He unexpectedly glances up at me sideways and embarrassed I look away from him.

  “Come closer.” He says in a low voice.

  I turn back to him and frown.

  Smiling, he insists, “Bend your head this way.”

  I lean closer into him and gently he puts the daisy crown on my head. “I crown thee fairest maiden of all,” he says in a quiet voice.

  I bring my head up and I have this deep inner yearning to be kissed by him. I feel it in the pit of my stomach—and to be honest, it is not a pleasant feeling, it is quite painful, and it is also the first time in my life I have ever felt it.

  He breaks his allure over me when he says, “Look.”

  I look to where he is pointing, and I see the sun starting to dip into the horizon, a shimmering ball of liquid.

  I want to exclaim how beautiful it is, but it is as if a great peace has descended upon us and everything around us. I cannot hear a cricket, or the chirping of a bird. There is not a sound, and it is so silent, I can even hear my own breathing.

  I pull my knees up automatically and I wrap my arms around my legs as I balance my chin on my knees.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  For the next hour, we sit like this in absolute stillness, living through the most spectacular sunset I have ever experienced.

  The other side of the earth swallows the sun and the broad brushstrokes of pinks, oranges and yellows are painted across the sky. The few clouds dotted in the sky are dark on the one side and silver on the other.

  When I hear the first cricket chirp again, I turn to him. “How did you know it would be so beautiful? How did you know it would be as if nature itself stopped to witness the sun setting?”

  He laughs softly. “Do you always have so many questions?”

  I look away from him and I pull on a piece of grass in front of me. He turns his whole body toward me. “First question’s answer—the sunset is always beautiful. Second question’s answer—I did not know it would end up feeling so creepy.”

  I look at him insulted. “It was not creepy. It was awesome and it felt as if I could feel nature. I could feel why this is supposed to be such a magical place; I could feel it in my soul. Couldn’t you feel it too?” I frown as I look at him.

  He looks at me seriously. As if this is the first time, he has ever really seen me.

  I ask, “How did you know where I was? How did you find me today? I didn’t even know I was coming to Slane this weekend.”

  He smirks. “As you know, I am a witch, or if you prefer a sorcerer, who are able to shape things to my will.”

  I nod my head yes. I do not tell him I have convinced myself it is all nonsense.

  “But... have you ever heard of, um, astral travel?”

  “No.” I frown briefly.

  “Well, astral travel is basically where a person can expand their psychic horizon of awareness. You see I believe the soul and the brain are two separate entities and that they can exist independently from each other. I am able to enter into a state of altered consciousness and then my soul can look for you.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask in disbelieve.

  He smiles slowly. “I am very serious. There are many cultures who still practice these rituals.”

  “Like who?”

  “The, um, Siberian Eskimo and Native American shamans are all able to perform astral travel.” He explains, “Shaman is another, better word for magician.”

  “So, you are saying you have been spying on me, by letting your soul leave your body?”

  He grins impishly. “Not really spying.”

  I gasp shocked as I realize. “Jeez, can you see me when I... When I am in the shower?”

  “I would not stoop that low and, to be honest, it has not occurred to me yet. Thanks for the suggestion.”

  “No!” I gasp appalled.

  He laughs loudly. The sound blends harmoniously with the quiet darkness around us.

  Reaching toward me, with his hands on my waist, he turns me effortlessly toward him. I now sit with my legs crossed in front of him, facing him. He moves closer to me and our knees are pressed together.

  “So, your soul leaves your body and then you let it drift until you find me?”

  “Something like that, and only because I do not want you to feel anxious about it, I cannot physically see you, I can only sense you.”

  I sigh with relief. “So, can Kieran also do this astral thing?”

  I see a hard line form around his lips, as he says, “No, he cannot, and he doesn’t know I can.”

  “Why not?” I laugh jokingly. “I thought you told each other everything?”

  He tightens his eyes, as he looks into my eyes searchingly. “We don’t. Why would you think that?”

  “Well, he knew I saw you that morning on the train.”

  Jayden smiles gradually, as I talk, and then he says, “Only because he knew I would make sure I am on the same train as you.”

  I frown and I do not want to get the wrong impression, so I ask, “What do you mean, make sure you are on the same train as me. Why?”

  He replies with a mischievous look on his face, “Look up.” He looks at me intently.

  I lift my face up to the night sky and there are millions upon millions of stars clustered together above our heads. The stars seem so close, only just out of reach. It feels that if I stood up, they would surround my head.

  I look down and into his dark eyes. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper reverently.

  “It is.” Carefully, he says, “Last night when I found you, you were crying. Why?”

  Immediately I feel the tears burn behind my eyelids. The weirdness of him, sensing my sadness when I was not even aware of him being there, is suddenly strangely insignificant. “It’s my parents.”

  He remains staring at me silently, imploring me with his eyes to continue.

  I tell him, “Well, you know they have decided to get divorced, and although they have both been unhappy with each other for a long time I still cannot understand why they don’t love each other anymore. When they fell in love all those years ago, they thought they would be together forever, so what happened? I am so afraid now to fall in love because although I might find the one person I want to be forever with, what if it is not forever. How am I going to dream of everlasting, forever love, when all around me it seems to be lost?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The first tear runs down my cheek and settles on my jaw. He takes my hand, which has been fiddling nervously with the seam of my pants, into his own.

  I sob involuntarily. “My dad looks so happy now, but it feels as if he just left me behind. You know what I mean? It is as if I meant nothing, just like the love he once had for my mom means nothing. It breaks my heart.”

  I pull my hand from his and I sink my face into my palms. I cry, even though I do not want to. I cannot help it. I cannot keep the tears back, no matter how hard I try to control them.

  At first Jayden just sits there with his arms draped across his thighs, and then slowly he embraces me, and he pulls me closer into him. He plants a light kiss o
n the top of my head and strokes my back comfortingly.

  Finally, when I am able to stop the tears, I pull back from him slowly, self-consciously.

  He holds my face between his palms. With his thumbs, he gently wipes the remaining tears from my cheeks. He asks concerned, “Are you okay now?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Sorry.”

  He smiles apologetically. “There is no need for you to be sorry. I am sorry though about your parents, but it is not always like that. Sometimes when we fall in love, it is forever. I think Kieran already told you the story of the girl and the two young men who were cursed. Well, that one young man has loved this one particular girl for so long now sometimes he feels like he is drowning, and you, Heather, you will find the strength to get through your parent’s divorce. I promise you, with all my heart, that one day you will find true love and it will be forever.”

  I sniff while I look at him stunned. “I thought it was just a fairy tale. A story he told me to distract me from telling me about magic and how he managed to make that car look as if it did not crash into him.”

  “No. Unfortunately, that is a true story.” He moves his hands away from my face and with a dismal grin he fixes the crown of daisies on my head, which were starting to slide to one side. “Come we cannot stay here too long; your dad will be worried when he gets home and you aren’t there.”

  I sigh. “Must I?”

  He stands up and pulls me up with him. “You must. It is almost midnight and time for fair maidens to be fast asleep in their beds.”

  We walk back through the tall grass and then along the dirt road silently. He leads the way and it is as if he can see in the black darkness surrounding us.

  As we get closer to his car, he asks, “So why do you always wear black?”

  I laugh softly. “Why do you always wear black?”

  “I am serious here. Is it some fashion thing, or are you trying to be Goth? You know there is more to being Goth than just wearing black clothes.”

  I say seriously, “The day after my parents announced the death of their love, I went into mourning.”

  He stops walking and pulls me by my hand closer to him. I am standing mere centimetres away from him and as he lifts his hand, he folds a strand of my hair behind my ear. He says in a soft, unyielding voice, “Love is not dead.”

  “I have come to realize it actually had nothing to do with love in the first place. It is really about feeling safe and protected.”

  He steps away from me slowly with a perplexed look on his face. “Come, it’s getting late.”

  We drive back to Slane in comfortable silence. I watch the headlights of the car wash across the road ahead of us. The lights reflect off the trunks of the trees along the side of the road. I think of the poor mothers and their children who worked along these roads during the famine. Their lives must have been so intolerably difficult. I think about Salem and all those innocent people who were accused, brutally tortured and then executed. I think about the story Kieran told me, which Jayden confirmed to be the truth.

  I ask Jayden apprehensively, “Why did Kieran tell me that story about Salem then if it wasn’t to distract me from what happened that day the car almost drove into me?”

  He exhales long and slow. “Well, um, you are actually the girl in that story.”

  “I have started to realize that, but not literally though.”

  “Yes. Literally, it is you.”

  “How?”

  “It is as Kieran told you. Exactly, as he told you.”

  “No.” The word whispers over my lips. I stare ahead at the beams of the light for a moment as the idea sinks into me. I ask him, “I am supposed to choose between who?” Shocked, I struggle for breath as I grasp the situation. I answer my own question quietly, “You and Kieran.”

  I see him glance at me apprehensively. “Who am I supposed to choose, then?”

  “I am not allowed to say.”

  I exclaim frustrated, “Why not?”

  “That is just the way it is. How can I tell you whom you are supposed to choose? You are supposed to choose the one you love, the one you feel connected to, the one you want to spend all your days with.”

  Strangely, him telling me I am the girl from the story does not frighten me. I think I have had a weird suspicion all the time. Everything has been so eerie lately. Magic, witches, shadows and slowly my subconscious have pieced it all together. I cannot believe I have played a part in a story that has been going on for centuries, and although it seems profound and impossible, something inside of me accepts it unconditionally.

  How am I supposed to know which one is the right one though?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  When we stop in front of my dad’s house, I see his car is still not parked in the driveway.

  As we get out of the car, I remind Jayden, “I don’t know how I am going to get back in again, remember I don’t have any keys.”

  He smiles playfully. “Do you want me to prove magic to you—and I am not talking about changing the colour of a rose.”

  “How do you plan on doing it? Are you going to zam-kalaboom the door open? Just don’t break it—please! I am only a guest here.”

  He reaches for my hand and squeezes it tightly, supportively when my voice breaks on my last few words. He leads me toward the door and then he looks up.

  “We are in luck. You left the window in your room open when you thought I might be a burglar, who is polite enough to knock before I rob you.”

  I wheeze insulted. “I couldn’t just open the door. I don’t know this area.”

  “I am not judging your good sense. It was very clever of you to first make sure before you opened the door.”

  He smiles slowly, seductively, as he turns me toward him.

  “No,” I whisper.

  “I promise I am not planning on influencing you, and I have never done it either.” He smiles wider. “That weak-kneed feeling you have is just my natural charm.”

  He takes the hand he is holding, and he places it on his shoulder. “Now. Put your hands here.” He takes my other hand, which is hanging limply on my side and he puts it on his shoulder on the other side.

  Lightly he places his hands on my hips while he looks down at me intensely, and for a brief second it is as if his eyes burn right through me, when he touches me.

  “Step onto my feet,” he whispers.

  “Are you going to give me a dancing lesson?” I laugh nervously as I place my feet on his.

  “Silly girl, close your eyes.”

  I insist, “No.”

  “Heather, come on. Close your eyes. Trust me.”

  My eyes glance by themselves to his lips, just before I close them. Then it feels as if we are rising into the air and afraid, I start to open my eyes.

  Softly I hear him say. I feel his breath on my lips. “No. Keep your eyes closed.”

  I swear it feels as if I am not on the ground anymore. It feels as if gravity has no effect on me, as if I am floating and then just as suddenly as I felt all of this it feels as if my feet are on the ground again.

  He says, “Okay. You can open your eyes now.”

  I open my eyes and look around me amazed. I am dead centre in the pastel splash room. I rush to the window to look out. Holding onto the windowsill, I lean out, looking at the ground below. Turning back to him, I ask excitedly, “You did that? Did you levitate? Did you lift us all the way from the ground and... and.” I stop talking when he steps closer to me.

  Fleetingly I feel his lips brush across my cheek. “Good night, Heather. I had a lovely evening and you are amazing.”

  I gasp shocked when he leaps out of the window and then seconds later, I see him open his car door.

  He smiles mischievously as he looks up at me, and then he gets into his car and drives away.

  Moments later the headlights of my dad’s car sweep across the driveway.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  When my dad drops me off at home just after lunch the nex
t day, he turns to me expectantly. “Shirley and I loved having you over, will you come again?”

  “Of course, I will. Why are you asking such a silly question?” I chuckle uncomfortably.

  “How about you come and stay with us for the whole summer break?”

  I feel a sense of apprehension press down on me. “It’s still a few weeks till break-up day, we can discuss it. You will be phoning between now and then, won’t you?” I ask cautiously. Then I say light-heartedly, “Besides, you’ll get sick of me if I stayed for an entire three months.”

  He looks at me thoughtfully as I put my hand on the latch to open the car door and I pull it toward me.

  As I climb out the car, he leans across the seat I just vacated. “I’ll phone you, so we can make the arrangements.”

  I lean down into the car and peck him on the cheek. “Bye, Dad. Thanks for everything, I had a nice time.”

  I stand in the driveway, hugging my bag to my chest until I see his car disappear around the corner.

  With a sigh, I turn toward my own front door. When I open the door and step up into my house, the familiar smells of home rush toward me. I hear the familiar sounds and I feel the familiar vibrations. It feels as if a great rock as big as the moon drops from my shoulders. I feel my lungs fill with the well-known oxygen between these four walls.

  I call, “Mom?”

  I hear her voice, and I cannot believe how I have missed it, coming from the back garden, “Here, Heather.”

  I drop my bag onto the bottom stair of the staircase, and I rush out of the house, into the garden. She is kneeling on the ground with a garden fork in her hand. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun behind her head, and she is wearing hideously baggy track pants and a T-shirt with a hole in the sleeve. She wipes the back of her hand across her forehead, and she leaves a brown muddy smear across her skin. She is the most beautiful person I have ever seen.