A Two-Fer
Different Shadows
In daylight,
shadows lead or follow.
In darkness,
shadows stalk your every move.
In daylight,
a reflected image is looked upon.
In darkness,
it becomes an eerie, frightening existence.
In daylight,
lovers profess joys of life.
In darkness,
they are shadows touching shadows.
____________________
Long Shadows in the Day
Heat covers me from the bright daylight star;
below my feet,
the blacktop’s tar of the freeway,
radiates distorted heat waves,
but I continue to walk.
I am a hitcher.
Looking to go somewhere from nowhere,
to where, who knows.
One foot in front of the other,
constantly moving,
admiring natural wonders surrounding my sojourn.
Hillsides to the left, running rivers to the right,
as metal machines roar by;
and every now and then luck is with me,
hitching a ride for an hour, maybe two,
then back to the long walk
until another metal monster screeches to a halt,
and I’m off again.
From a distant view,
mountains capped in white give off a sense of pureness,
Whippoorwill’s can be heard serenading nature;
occasionally a herd of cattle grazing,
will stop and stare at this two-legged intruder,
until their curiosity wears away.
Being a road-walker all my life
can be a lonely affair for one heart,
but I am never really alone.
I have my thoughts,
and in the heat of day,
behind me is my best friend.
Though he never speaks,
I know he is there,
watching.
He is the shadow of my adventure.
Grounded mind, part 2
.
Welcome to Telepathics Anonymous, don’t bother introducing yourself.
― Bauvard
Over a decade ago.
I’m fourteen and sit in a small stuffy room. I feel like I can’t breathe - even though the air conditioning seems to be working. I hear it in the walls, vibrating and circulating. It sounds like it’s choking. I grab my arms tightly and stare at the empty table, then I hear a cough and suddenly feel cold. My stare slowly moves up to a woman with dark chestnut hair and heavy looking glasses with black frames. She doesn’t seem as nice as in the beginning, I am making her lose her patience. Again. She taps a finger against an oversized paper card in her hand. It’s similar to the cards you would play poker with, just bigger. I stare at it and the woman seems to tense up even more. We have been here for hours. She said that it would just take a moment. My stare falls down on the table and the world gets blurry. I feel all the tension in the room and each vibration of our two bodies. Finally, I look up and shrug my shoulders, I really didn’t’ want to be here but back at home, even if it wasn’t my own. Anything was better than this.
Adria, we have been over this before. If you just cooperate we can get this over with much faster. Just try, I know you can do this.
My head moves to the side and I stay silent, the woman’s voice raises.
Adria...
The head snaps back in her direction, my voice filled with low anger as I answer her.
If you already know what I can do, then why am I even here?
The woman looks surprised but still agitated. This was the longest sentence I have said since this morning. I was hungry and felt confused. What did they want with me? They already knew I was a freak, what else was there to talk about? I think of my uncle that I was left behind with and that I had no idea what was going with the rest of my family. No one was supposed to find me, that was the whole purpose of this plan. Anger simmers under my skin as I stare at the doctor. I feel like crying but I don’t want her to see, I don’t want anyone to see.
Well, it’s good that you remembered you have a voice, and now that you seem more woken up, please use the voice that is in your head. Which card am I holding?
I press my arms tighter, nails digging into the sleeves of my red shirt as my left leg starts to twitch. I’m not sure what to do. Do I give in or just pretend to be plain stupid? I shake my head.
I don’t know.
Adria, we know you have done this before. Now we need to record it for documentation.
For proof.
I mumble and feel the tears starting to slip. I look to the ceiling, trying to hold them back and working on my calm.
Yes, that’s is what we do. We’re a scientist and need to document everything for our studies. Now please work with me, your uncle is waiting outside for you.
That catches my attention, a gasp escaping my mouth as I look at her, my mind even more confused. How much did they know? The doctor stands up, takes my hand, and makes me follow her. Her fingers are hot and dry. I want to pull out of her grasp but before I can do anything, we are already at the door. She points to the glass that takes up a small part of the door, and I look through it. I see my uncle sitting on a plastic chair outside and two guards sitting on both of his sides, keeping some space between. They look bored, my uncle looks exhausted. I grip the handle but it’s locked. I feel panic spread in my body and tap on the glass, and the doctor doesn’t stop me. My uncle looks up and gives me a tired smile. I breathe out slowly, counting my breaths, and return to the table, putting hands loosely by my sides, and wait. The woman sits opposite to me and nods, seeming to be satisfied by my reaction. She picks up a different card and lifts it.
I stare at it but don’t see anything for a moment. I close my eyes and let myself feel it, taste it. Each card has a different amount of ink on it, it’s cumulated energy laid down in the matter. That’s how my mum used to explain it to me. I didn’t understand it at first; being only eleven when she started to fill me in. But we had a lot of books and family journals that I could learn from, and my mother’s own experience which helped the most. So eventually, things became easier.
I focus on the card, my eyes still closed, making myself find it without actually seeing it, feeling its warmth and moving around the details. The ink feels colder than the paper. I concentrate and see a faint picture, but it’s not enough. My mind lifts a wall and moves to the woman. I touch her thoughts and try to catch them in a ‘net’. The symbol moves until I can place it and put it into shape. I breathe out and look down.
It’s a circle and the next one will be a star.
How did you know that? I haven’t picked it yet.
But you thought about it. I want to say but don’t. That would have been too dangerous and I wasn’t sure how she was going to react. I couldn’t risk it.
I saw it when you were picking the first one. A part of the picture showed.
My shoulders shrug and my attitude changes into that of a rebellious teenager that everyone saw in me. I’m playing my own cards with her, so I don’t lose the few aces I have left. The woman inhales sharply and is agitated again. She should swallow some Xanax, maybe that would help loosen up the stick up her...
Can we proceed now without disturbance?
I just nod and wait. Another three hours pass before we are done. All I want to do is eat and go to bed, wanting to erase this day and the last couple of months from my memory, pretending they never even happened. I needed to pretend because the reality was too unbearable to take in.
After some time, I am ushered into the hall and walk up to my uncle. He wraps an arm uncomfortably around me and I use him as a pillar that I can lean on and don’t collapse. My eyes close as I inhale the smell of this place. It smells of machines and tension.
Mr. Morgenstein, the tests are completed for now. You will be called later for further evaluation of Adria.
I look up and see his jaws clench as he nods. I look at the woman in the heavy glasses and stretch out my mind. It expands until it reaches her... and then it goes right past her. Damn it, I think and close my eyes. I was too tired to see any of her thoughts. Maybe if I could touch her or if she was tired as well, but in this state, I couldn’t do anything. I stand straight and grab my uncle’s hand. It’s warm and I can feel our family bounds giving me some balance and a little strength. I let my thoughts out and wait until they reach his. My mind is uncoordinated right now, so the message I send him is just a feeling, a way to show him my support, letting him know that I am okay. He looks down and gives me another weak smile. He squeezed my hand back and I finally let myself breathe.
Just a little.
From the outside, the scene must have looked normal. A niece and her uncle supporting each other in times of need. In truth, I was sending him signs not to do anything in desperation. He needed to be the calm person here because he was all I had left right now. If mum was here I could have done so much more. We had similar powers and abilities, together we could have increased them - but now it was just me. A little fourteen-year-old freak that got caught.
_______
Now.
I wake up with a pounding head and a dried throat. I was parched and desperate for any kind of liquid. I lift myself up to my elbow and look around, then groan. Still here and without a way out, stuck as always. I move to my knees and try to get up, stumbling, and falling back on the ground. Damn it. I think of that small room almost twelve years ago and groan once more. Some things never change in my life. I spend all of this time constantly running away and being caught over and over again. Sometimes fighting them in every step, at other times faking willingness and cooperating. All of my attempts failing just the same. For nearly four years after that day with my uncle, I was put in a special school so I could be observed and controlled. They were watching my every move, observing how my powers we increasing and changing. Testing how my age and physical growth affected my powers. Every couple of months I was checked and made to do new tests. Each session recorded and saved.
But on most days they just watched from the shadows. They did it so well, that over time I let myself believe that they didn’t exist, once again pretending in an attempt to rescue my mental state from more damage. I made some friends in the school but mostly kept to myself. Somewhere in the back of my head, there was always a thought that they were spying as well, so I didn’t want to get to close to them. It was a sticky and thick thought that never let me alone. Yet, I tried to do the best with what I had, even with all the limitations. That was also an act. I was getting ready for my eighteenth birthday and at the end of school, planning how to escape before they put me somewhere else. Somewhere much worse, that I would never run away.
_____
I get up from the floor and this time manage to stay that way, sliding my hand against the wall., reaching the window and looking out. The light behind the big oak tree is barely visible. I notice a glimpse of the sun rising and frown. I got here yesterday in the early afternoon, which means I must have slept for around 18 hours, give or take. I watch the sun slowly rising and stare at all the beauty before my eyes. I tap my nails against the glass and it starts to vibrate. The light of the sun reaches my face and I take in the warmth that it offers me. The floorboards start to vibrate as well. It’s a very low sound but I feel it in my entire body. I put my entire hand on the window and hear a tiny crack.
The door behind me opens and the vibrations stop at once. I notice the little dent in the glass - my mother’s words filling my mind. Good feelings that grow inside of you are much more powerful than any anger you ever felt. Rage will destroy you, peace will make you a queen. Focus on your heartbeats, not on the venom that could kill them. I turn back and look at the man with the tray. I don’t move, just watch him, not trying to reach his mind, just waiting. I don’t want to lose this state that I am in, this feeling of calm and gratitude. Not just yet. The doctor walks in behind him, and I concentrate on how the sun felt on my skin. I can’t let them win.
Adria, nice to see that you are up again. I have been worried about you. Over 40 hours of sleep, a new record I suppose. Well, at least you are rested now. Perhaps in a better mood as well.
I looked surprised at her. I have been out for almost two days? That would definitely explain why I was so thirsty and stiff. The way I couldn’t catch my balance and felt lost on time. The drug that she gave me must have been stronger than I thought. I glance and the woman but don’t speak. She nods once, not surprised by my reaction.
How do you feel today?
Thirsty.
I croak out and walk up to a tray, picking up a water bottle and drinking all of it in one turn. It’s warm but feels like pure heaven. I don’t think I ever tasted anything so good. My stare falls on the food, but I leave it. My stomach still feels upset - and besides, I don’t want them to watch me like a lab rat while I eat.
_____
And here is a link to part one for those interested in reading more.
https://theprose.com/post/343477/grounded-mind
Photo credit : Taya Ivanowa
https://expertphotography.com/author/taya-ivanova/
we’re running to our ends (to the start)
you’re wonder and cold stars;
a touch of fire under my fingertips
an ache in my feet
i can’t turn away
we’ve been chasing cars
for almost all our life
stumbling after the blur of
red & blue light
until everything tangled
together
& sometimes the darkness
feels like light too
you keep telling that
you miss me
but i’m right here
reaching infinity in the dark
glitch / noun
a sudden, usually temporary malfunction or fault of equipment
Light fills the room, radiating from her pores. It seems steady, in control, moving out of her in waves, ripples on the water caused by time. It seems pure, healing, with hushes of tenderness within cells. It’s not. This time it’s different. She no longer steadies the matter, it consumes her, but in a way that holds no joy. Grey smoke hisses as the blue orbs attack the nearby wall, penetrating the hard solid structure, a few bricks in the color of rust scorched by the sparks that come from the living and breathing universe, a constant reminder of cosmic dust that relentlessly glides through her veins.
Her fingers strain, shooting out another wave of energy in the form of a long beam as it rapidly curves up and implodes inwards, releasing itself in blinding light, causing the glass in the windows to tremble, an expensive china vase falling to the ground, turning itself into pieces and dust. Tiny painted flowers of blue and spring covering the ground in fragmented dreams. And as if some peculiar kind of music, mixing with the racket of a crystal carafe that shatters against polished wooded floors, its warm ruby contents reaching and staining a thick carpet in the center of the living room. A beautiful catastrophe of sounds.
She senses it all from behind closed eyelids while her muscles scream at her, exhausted from the constant exercise that she has put her body through the long morning hours. Her mind filled with issues that did not touch the material mundane ground. The light that cascaded and touched every surface around was an energy that no longer served its purpose. Once in harmony, now destructive in its raging shallow form, untamable as her core.
A frustrated moan fills the air as open palms hit the floor, the impact of it resonating through her bones, teeth grating against each other as she tries to swallow. Unsteady breaths blending with the smoke and dust that was caused by wounded hands. This compelling force, constantly playing with its host, but not in a way that she had grown used to. The essence flowing in her, not bringing the pleasure and release that she craved for, only unsatisfied echos of the vibrations that once moved so effortlessly in her heated veins. The intense glow made from her creation, now just a teasing light.
Empty rage.
Another moan disturbs the silence as she again feels the sunrays on her flushed and fragile skin, now so sensitive that even the slightest touch might make her burst into flames, into something ugly. Burning out the poor soul that would so foolishly even laid a finger on her body at that moment.
Put in silence, put it in peace.
Just like you were always taught to do.
She focuses on her breathing, allowing the once present peace to rekindle with her spirit and enter her body, the troubled mind. Caring for the force that she normally cradled as if a lost love, gently with each delicate atom that her being consisted of, while flames would erupt inside of her in pleasing, circling raptures.
Find air in between your shallow breaths.
Lungs fight her as she thinks about her past. Never before has she been faced with such restrictions. In her youngest years, the training that she was given had taken a lot out of her, yet never caused such chaos that would make the powers so out of control. She could always rely on the energy that was once consisted of suns and forgotten constellations, an essence created from so many past lives that she was only allowed to see in her dreams. The purest form of power nestled itself in the vessel that was her flesh, a body of a warrior that was supposed to bring worlds to their doom. Channeling the force that was once a whisper just before the bang.
She shakes her head in agitation, coming back to the present, eyes closed but feeling the matter that surrounded the space she was in. The mundane walls around her, the furniture that she picked herself with care, such as the long blue sofa behind her, or an antic coffee table that was now put away in the corner as she was focused on meditating, and spreading energy without any unwanted side effects. White candles long burned out by now, left forgotten on the floor by her crossed legs, arranged in a half-circle, meant to bring peace to her own flames.
Though apparently, it didn’t work, did it now?
Sarcasm spills out of her mouth like poison as there is no one to reply to her, the state of the wall the only silent testimony to a hollow question.
What have you done to me, little girl? When I brought you no harm, instead of the things I should have done, grinding your bones into dust.
The words linger in the air, a heavy weight moving somewhere in her chest, a tiresome state overpowering her for a moment until the sun once again reaches her skin. This time with more gentleness and not with fire, as the thick atmosphere still radiates from her, resembling deep layers of fog. Suddenly the stuffy air seems too much and she gets up abruptly from the floor, ignoring the ache in muscles that remained in one place for way too long.
Enough.
She stands up, bare feet stumbling a bit as she reaches the two high double windows behind the sofa, and puts the soft white curtains to the side, grabbing the handles and opening one window after another, letting the fresh in. Relief filling her entire body, muscles relaxing and lungs inhaling deeper. She feels the soft summer wind move her long creamy silk shirt that lays down loosely against the body, nothing else under the material to block the soothing touch, a pair of expensive black jeans hugging her shape perfectly.
Better, much better. Think logically again, Lilly.
The words are familiar as they were spoken by her teacher, so many years back. Even as a child she had temper problems, the blue fire in her very unsteady and so hard to tame. She loved those flames, nearly to the point of obsession, relishing in them and protesting against any discipline. Which was a contrast, because when she did not use her powers, she was poised and calm, almost to extremes, triggering those around her when her face was too still, not showing emotions that others seemed to need so desperately. But when she was still, there were no feelings to give, and when her fire did burn, there was too much of her to take in. Because of that, over the years she had to find a balance and to soothe her senses, obtaining control.
I did it then, and I will do it now.
She straightens her back and looks around the apartment, fingers unclenching and lungs filling with new air. Her steps are confident as she heads for the half-open kitchen, putting an electric kettle on.
Sorry, dear friend. My ways are more modern than yours.
A slow smile spreads on her lips as she thinks of Wren and her old-fashioned ways, and the visit that happened just one day before. Mind wandering off to the young woman that she held so close to her heart, a gentle soul which she had shared not only her energy, body but spirit alike in perfect form. When life seemed to be so much easier and focused on who she was meant to become. She sighs and opens a drawer, slowly diving her hand as if fearing to be bitten by some absurdity of a beast, pulling out a small, purple bag. The material feels so soft against her fingers but she is not fooled. What worries her is what’s inside of it; a specially combined fusion of herbs just for her.
You need to come to me more often. If not every day then at least when you feel your vibrations going off.
The words play in her mind on a constant loop. Her energy was off since this morning, many hours back, but she wanted to fight on her own. Meditating and training her energy, having the belief that she could win with anything that stood in her way. Why didn’t you just kill her? The thought comes from a darker side of her, the one that she didn’t hesitate to use, though this time it made her flinch a bit. Too many elements to take this in such a simple way. It was not her job to kill innocent creatures, even if they brought chaos into her life. But of course, that always remained one of the possibilities. She smiles for a moment or two, but then just shakes her head, shoulders rolling. Just a waste of time to ponder about this. Actions needed to be done, and not useless digressions. She looks at the little harmless bag and exhales. You need this. As she pours hot water into a white ceramic cup and steps back to the leaving room, familiar words reach her again.
But take my herbs with you.
They will calm your energy when I am not there.
I want you to be safe.
And I am grateful that you do, love. She replies silently in her thoughts and stares at the cup, sitting upright on the sofa, hands pushing into its structure as she tries to think logically, establishing some kind of plan. I need to take actions, but there are so many unknown factors in this equation. What if despite all the chaos she could still be of use to me? And if should decide to end her, will there be consequences to face? There always are, Lilly, you know that by now. Always a certain price to pay for everything.
Suddenly a ring breaks her out of the deep thoughts as she puts the cup away and goes to the phone, its sound working on her nerves, that by now seemed to resemble a strained iron cord. The phone lays on a long counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. She picks it up with force, the sound of plastic cracking slightly, filling her ears.
Yes?
We inspected her place as you asked.
According to the instructions, I presume?
Of, course. In silence and under the radar, leaving everything as it was.
Good. Did you find anything out of the ordinary?
Yes, and no.
Ramsey, I am in no mood for twenty questions, respect my time.
As always, boss. We didn’t find anything out of the ordinary that would explain her abilities or her past. But we found... mild stimulants hidden in the kitchen area.
Stimulants?
I asked in disbelieve.
To put it in official names, small amounts of medical marihuana.
Just for private self-use.
My voice is half-amused, and half dripping of heavy-layered sarcasm as I speak. My mind slowly processing the information and what it meant for me because of what I felt yesterday.
She was high.
It’s not even a question, memories and sensations from yesterday hitting me all at once, of how lightheaded I felt, and how unclear my thoughts were. How intoxicated I seemed to be. Seeing every speck of dust and vibrant color as if looking at pure and cosmic energy. My body reacting as if filled to the brim with peaceful tender light and sensual currents like overwhelming tides. Electric and deliciously tingly, yet soft.
Sorry, boss?
What? No, nothing, nevermind. Anything else you found?
I’m no expert, but I came across a sketch pad that had interesting things in it, but I think you would have to see for yourself. I can bring it over if you like.
No, everything must remain the same as it was, in case she would come back. We have to be careful about this situation, too many things can go wrong. I don’t need new things to worry about. Did you make the extra keys that I asked for?
Yes.
Good, bring them to me. I need to see that sketchbook.
Wouldn’t it just be simpler if I brought it or took some...
No.
I cut him off abruptly.
Do as I say.
Of course.
He hangs up, knowing the conversation has reached its end. I move back to the coffee table and pick the ceramic cup, the liquid almost cold by now. It didn’t matter, the important thing was that I needed my strength to get through all of this. I start to slowly sip the brew, tasting the rich herbs in it, feeling my nerves slowly calm down, energy buzzing again but this time on my own rules. I lift one hand and stretch out my fingers, moving them slowly. They don’t sting anymore, even though I can still see the damage that was done to my skin. My eyes close and I let myself feel it, all of it. Each cell in my body, each yearning particle, and grain of my soul, my matter. The matter of everything.
Pulse exhilarates, lungs moving with force, blood heating up as everything around me slows down. It feels different this time, energy in me not sore or rushed. There is no anger. Just love and affection, unconditional in its pure beauty for everything that exists. The palm of my hand moves outward as the light slowly moves under my skin, beginning in the chest, drifting through the veins and spreading to my arm, gliding to the wrist, and growing in my hand. I feel it. Energy moving out and forming an orb made of delicate strings and flickers of blue light. Consume me the way I crave. My eyes open wider as the energy moves out of me, growing and rising like wildfire that does not burn but sets me into flames.
The light fills the center of the room as if a sun made of fractured moons. So perfect in its crafted flaws. My hair lifts gently in the air, blue light licking its strands, taking one long breath as I inhale and my body grows still, a lost moment in time. Just a split of a second as light spreads from my hands, skin, my eyes. There is no me, no flesh, no soul, just the ever-expanding energy. It fills the entire space around me as my being shifts and spins around slowly, my feet no longer touching the ground. My hair swirls around me delicately as if an entanglement of brown and blue ribbons, fingers moving in an unknown dance. It all dances to the rhythm of the stars within my cells, to the universe’s whispered breath. You are home, you are love, you’re infinity breaking. Thoughts die out as I am suddenly left in silence, nothing exists but this.
Just this.
My mortal body moves faster and faster spinning to its own trajectory, feet shifting the air against the carpet, and then the ceiling as I seem to orbit around quiet moons and not yet reached dawns.
And then my arms spread out, stopping everything with a sharpness of a titanium blade. I glide down slowly, bare feet sinking gently into the rug, gravity returning and sounds filling my ears. The busy noise of the streets, people laughing and talking, birds trying to break through it all and somehow succeeding. My lungs move gently, as peace wraps around my soul. Thank you, Wren. For always keeping me safe. My dazed stare falls on my hands and I notice the marks and burned parts were fading away slowly. I was healing again. A smile lingers on my lips as I prepare myself for a new day to come. This time nothing would stop me, even black feathers of a delicate pure heart. Nothing.
_____
glitch / astronomy
a sudden change in the period of rotation of a neutron star
_____
Previous chapters :
1. https://theprose.com/post/214855/worlds-colliding
2. https://theprose.com/post/215912/signs
3. https://theprose.com/post/219168/the-stripes-on-a-tiger
4. https://theprose.com/post/223324/disturbance-in-the-matter
5. https://theprose.com/post/237003/leaving-marks-part-1-2
6. https://theprose.com/post/237515/leaving-marks-2
7. https://theprose.com/post/266243/cause-and-effect-part-1-2
8. https://theprose.com/post/266557/cause-and-effect-part-2
9. https://theprose.com/post/324197/rooted-grounds-and-foundations
10. https://theprose.com/post/327453/by-the-strands-that-bind-us
reaching out
.
scars have the strange power
to remind us that our past is real
- Cormac McCarthy
The hospital, early morning.
2 days later.
A memory slowly breaks through my beaten-up mind as the soles of my shoes scrape lightly against the linoleum floors, fluorescent lights showing of my tired complexion. Without much power left to block it, the scene starts to play out in my head as if it’s all happening now and not two nights before. It’s like filtering through time, reliving every word and sensation.
I see myself walking out of the bar through the back entrance, the door closing behind me, sounds of music, and shouts subsiding. I almost feel the chill of Autumn in my bones, clouds of warm air escaping my mouth as I watch my body from far away. And then I hear it; a sound of a phone connection disturbing the dark night after my fingers dial up a familiar number, voice loud and clear, the memory of it ringing in my ears.
“I need to explain to you what’s been going on with me, face to face because there is no other way I can do it. And if you won’t let me in, I’ll understand that, it’s what I deserve anyway”.
The scene keeps playing out in my head as my senses let me know that I’m not really there. The sounds of the hospital breaking through the images that fill my thoughts.
I watch as I end the call and slip the phone back into my pocket. The cold air moves around me, stinging my skin but not affecting me much. I feel numb and a bit terrified of what I was going to do, of the confrontation that awaited me. More scared than when I lied on the floor of the old house, raving in pain, and waiting for the end, clawing my way out of this world.
Something sinks in my chest at the thought of that moment. I felt extra vulnerable then, exposed. That day at Phil’s bar, when I just hang out there a couple of hours getting familiar again with my list of new responsibilities, I left her a message on the voice mail. The hour was late, and the possibility that she was still awake and that she would pick up were close to zero. It was the way I preferred it. If she answered the call, I might not have said a word and just hang up after a prolonged silence. So, I chose this hour on purpose, a sort of a compromise with myself in the hope that I wouldn’t chicken out at the last second. Maybe I was being childish about it, but I had already lost so much in my life, I didn’t want to lose even more. I just couldn’t.
Not long after, I came back inside the bar just to hear the sounds of the karaoke machine waking up to life, the first people already choosing their favorites. I was groaning, trying not to remember the time when my attitude brought me to the top of the bar, hips swaying to the first tones of ABBA’s classical number. Give me a man after midnight roaring from the speakers with full blast. It was one of those precious moments when you wish you actually had blacked out. Especially when you can’t carry even one tune without luring all the neighborhood cats in, possible sounds of glass breaking on their way. But the music that played that day was loud, and by that time people didn’t care much anyway. An attractive girl on the bar making a fool out of herself worked just fine for the entertainment part any night.
_____
My thoughts are a bit hazy as I walk up to him, gazing at his face and slowly regaining my focus, a lot of things roaming around in my tired brain and not just that memory. It’s been a long night and an even longer shift, my first one this week. It happened faster than I thought, getting back to the job at the bar but as soon as I finished talking to Gloria, I was determined to push my life forward whatever was left from it, even if just for now. I’ve been very persistent with Phil about the fact that I’m working there if he likes it or not, not really playing with my charms but with the demanding part of me that normally didn’t show off too much as I wasn’t a big fan of people in general. Though my newly regained boss wasn’t really fighting me on it, rather all too willing just to see me shut up. “Oh, just start the damn job already, you’ll do as you want anyway.” My head shakes as I return to the present, a smile still lingering on my lips.
Hey, you. I came to be restored and fully energized, so oil up this rusty tin woman with your tender greasy touch.
He’s writing something down lost in thought as my words break through to him gradually, looking up at me from the front of the reception desk, eyebrows slightly lifted while a young nurse in her early 20′s, looks up as well, evidently intrigued by what she hears. She’s sitting next to a computer, typing something without much enthusiasm, but more awake after hearing me speak. I send her a calm stare and she pretends to be busy with some patients’ cards that she fixes into a neat stack, tapping it against the countertop for effect. I try not to roll my eyes and turn my attention back to him.
So, do you have some spare time? Because I’m reporting to you as promised. All poised and behaving, just like a trained dog waiting for a treat from her master.
A smirk spreads on my lips as I gaze at the nurse while she pretends to be oblivious to the conversation, yet I know that she heard me loud and clear. My head turns back to Charlie, who sends me a very stern, patronizing expression. My shoulders shrug automatically. What? I was only human here, with all my bad attitude and behavior issues. It was a part of my nature that I could never resist or stop, not that I ever wanted to.
I’m glad that you came, you definitely need the medical attention with your condition, even at such hours. Then again, it’s a hospital, nothing new that we haven’t seemed here before. Right, Cortney?
He turns around to the girl, with a gentle smile and she clears her throat, nodding but not saying anything. She takes a plastic chart with her and rushes out, suddenly terribly busy, her long brown hair that’s neatly tied back jumping from side to side.
Will she come back, or did we scare her away for good?
She’s will be back, just checking out on a new patient at the end of the hall. I’m here, so she can do that. As long as someone is on the reception than it’s not a problem. We take shifts at this early hour, besides, it’s far less busy now.
I look around at the quiet space around me, only with the sounds of machines and voices occasionally calling out through the speakers, interrupting the steady silence. Just a few patients and nurses passing us by.
Mmm, yes.
He gazes at me slowly, then looks around carefully, judging how much audience we have as an older lady stares at him in her long pink gown and coughs a bit, dealing with a misbehaving IV stand as she tries to fish out something from her bag.
I have some spare time.
He says almost in a whisper and holds my wrist, his thumb rubbing against my skin. I try not to think how good that feels, or that the warm he sends through my skin seems to cause more things to me than before. Such comfort and safety, as if nothing else bad could happen to me. I wasn’t used to such feelings - I think as a low sigh of relief escapes my throat, the heightened sounds in my head calming down, a gentle glow spreading under my skin. His hand hesitantly let’s go of mine and I open my eyes. He didn’t want to let go. Always the caregiver and protector. My lungs expand as another sigh leaves my lungs, but this time it speaks of exhaustion. The first shift since I last worked at the bar, which was not including the helping-out transaction that I did there almost three days before, was really kicking in. This wasn’t the same body that is was just a year ago, this body had demons to fight with, my batteries slowly running out. Once again, my head shakes, mind refusing to linger in the darker thoughts and drifting back to him as if instinctively turning my face to the sun.
Why are you a nurse and not a doctor?
He looks up at me again, with a funny expression shifting his features. My hands lift up in surrender.
Hey, hey. I didn’t mean that neither in a bad or a good way. I’m simply curious, promise.
My gaze is calm as my eyes follow his. There was no double meaning in my question. My voice somehow turns softer when I speak.
I just want to know more about your life.
He nods at me slowly, something flickering in his eyes.
There isn’t that much to tell.
Well, I still want to listen.
Another nod and a little smile as he relaxes, opening up to me about things I didn’t know but really wanted to. Even if a part of me still fought with it, because why get too attached, you only get hurt in teh end. And yet, here I was, asking anyway, my life forever intertwined with his, no matter what would happen to me later. I watch as he leans in on the countertop and looks ahead and not really at me.
Because being a doctor is a very expensive profession, Nora.
I hear him sigh but don’t comment as to not interrupt him in case he would change his mind.
Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just that it wasn’t always that simple in my life. Or maybe it never was but got more stable over time, the support of the people that care about me helping a lot in that. When I was in college, my family didn’t have much money, so even the classes I had and the payments for the next semesters were a struggle. But I worked at two jobs, so it wasn’t that bad, just exhausting a bit.
The corners of his lips move up and I notice a fade smile come up as it is evident that he is remembering something from his past that he held dearly. Like looking at sunrays filtering through thick clouds.
My grandmother had chipped in for nursing classes for me, even though I protested. My family wasn’t even aware that she had extra cash stocked away somewhere, only that she respected the value of money and had some small savings hidden away for a darker hour. She surprised me and wouldn’t take a no for an answer.
She sounds like a great person to have in your life.
My voice is still low as to not stop the flow of words coming from him, even though my mind told me he would finish what he started.
She is, very much so. My family doesn’t have any financial difficulties now, and they also helped me rent my flat, which later I decided to take a loan on, wanting it to be just mine. It will take me many years to pay it off, but having Robert around now helps with the payments. He’s a good brother, even with all his personality perks, and disgusting habits... like some I know.
He turns his head to finally look at me. I smile at him with warmth.
Thanks for answering the question.
Not a problem. Speaking of questions. How was your first night shift in months?
I groan at him and it causes his smile to spread rapidly.
There was bound to be a payback for this. Mmm, I both loved it and it kicked me off my feet, to the point where I don’t even know if I am standing right now or laying on the ground.
You’re standing, but barely from what I see.
He says, amused and once again my thoughts jump to last night. To the voice message I left, to the things, I still had to do. And before I can stop it, the images fill my mind while I try to keep my facial expression neutral. It happens more calmly this time, but something inside still rushes me forward, making sure I won’t back out this time. The old lady from before passes us as I snap back to life, her slippers making very distinct noises in the otherwise quiet surroundings.
Go for it, child. It’s obvious, that he likes you.
My eyebrows scrunch together, a bit surprised by her words as I notice that somewhere along the way I changed my position, leaning against the counter, much closer to him, almost bumping into his shoulder. I stare at her amused as she turns back to look at me.
Take your chance while you’re still young and don’t need to catch your breath every five steps. I will tell you, being old is such a pain in the royal queen’s ass. I should know, seen her on my honeymoon before Richard Nixon had a chance to even put a tail between his skinny legs after that blowout in his so-called political carrier. Talk about some shady waters*.
The innocent-looking and white her woman, in a very pink nightgown, chuckles and slowly disappears into a nearby bathroom. I gaze at Charlie, wide-eyed and burst out laughing, barely catching my breath.
Is this how your every morning shift looks like? Wow, I should come more often at this hour and bring snacks, and speaking off.
He looks at me, smiling. A little blush that I haven’t seen before subsiding now, my eyebrows raised at the sight.
I can’t leave the reception desk, sorry.
He extends his hands as if apologizing and I shake my head. I dig into my bag and throw a white paper bag on the counter. He looks at me curiously and opens it, a small smile creeping on his face.
Donuts?
Twelve of them, different kinds.
And we will eat all of those?
Oh no, I would say half of it, rest is for my special female friends. After all, I earn money now and can allow myself to go big.
Now his head shakes as he pulls out sugar-glazed donut with pink sprinkles, his eyebrow lifting.
Go big, huh?
I reach my hand into the bag and stuff my mouth shamelessly with a chocolate-covered version of heaven, ignoring the mild sarcasm, too familiar with that language to be bothered by it.
Yes, I went all the way in my beautiful and spoiled unhealthy ways.
That would sound better if the food wasn’t falling out of your mouth.
He dusts off some tiny crumbs from the desk and smiles at me. It’s my turn to act patronizing.
I don’t waste food, my scrubs wearing master. I would have got that, but you beat me to it.
You’re a disgusting creature sometimes.
He grins at me and I shrug.
I do my best to keep my company entertained.
My smile darkens as I make a little show and bow low, thinking of Scarlet Ohara and Red Butler, imagining at plenty of green velvet covering my silhouette. That kind of dress would sure make an impression on mister sweet care and smugness. Oh, how I would love to see that expression and make a mental picture, then blow it up and cover my living room wall with it. Suddenly, the smile sinks a bit as I think of the dress and of the clothes that still hang on me too loosely. He notices the change of mood and gazes at me questioningly.
What’s wrong? What were you thinking just now?
That velvet doesn’t like bony features.
Uhm... sorry, what?
I need to fill up, and food is the answer.
He gazes at me as I stuff my mouth with another donut with sprinkles, my low mood slowly evaporating.
Do you want to top that off with a burger and a double order of fries, washing it down with a strawberry milkshake?
Charlie, not so many sweet words at once, or I will be all over you just like the rest of the staff here, both male and female alike.
He groans at me and rearranges some papers, his stare falling to his watch, eyebrows furrowing.
Nora, I need to work. I’m going to wait until Cortney returns and then head for the morning staff meeting that should start in 20 minutes.
My hands lift in surrender.
By all means, I can handle myself and my stomach just fine, been doing it for years.
Will you be alright?
Charlie.
My hand reaches his, covering it lightly as he holds some documents in it, his eyes meeting mine.
Nothing bad is going to happen, trust me. I will get some takeout on my way home, relax, and then sleep for a long, long time. It’s what I’m good at, a high notch licensed procrastinator, you know that about me.
My fingers slip from his as I shove both of my hands into the pockets of my black jeans picked especially for working purposes, a black t-shirt to match under the jacket I was wearing. He sighs but nods, agreeing.
I worry about you, Nora. That’s all, just the way I’m build.
Mmm, true. And I appreciate it, but right now I’m leaving as my sarcastic persona does not take well any emotional vibes. It makes me stand in flames, just like in church when I was a kid.
I nod with all seriousness as he watches me, mouth already starting to open, which I ignore completely.
My mum did always hate when I turned to ash the Sunday dresses she bought me.
My steps sound loud as I leave the hospital, feeling his amused stare on my back as I smile to myself. I really liked that man, not only a savior but also my steady ground, a warm breeze when all I felt was cold. I wish that one day, I can repay him for all of his kindness, he deserves it more than anyone it the world.
_________
*The Watergate scandal was a political scandal in the United States involving the administration of U.S. President Richard Nixon from 1972 to 1974 that led to Nixon’s resignation.
https://theprose.com/post/230936/with-all-my-senses
(chapter 1 )
Previous 3 chapters :
25. https://theprose.com/post/326382/the-ones-that-shape-us
26. https://theprose.com/post/335596/finding-steady-footing
27. https://theprose.com/post/340650/when-the-dust-settles
And thank you to everyone that still wants to know more about Eleonore and her story ;)
Loved One
Close your eyes
and think of me,
Did I appear
as I said I would?
Did your eyes fill with tears
as you addressed my wounds with your gaze,
Not daring to utter the truth
Out of fear that I would go away,
And leave you all alone.
But did you know?
The truth is,
You will never be alone,
In this life,
The next life,
And the one after that,
I have always held, and will hold,
your trembling hand,
and draw peace as it steadies
from the growth of your heart.
- Lady Bell
