Eyes of the Soul (3 page)

The nighttime sky was filled with wonder as the stars twinkled brighter than I have ever experienced in my life. This is it. This is Mauna Kea. I remember researching this place when I first started dreaming about her. The very first night she appeared in my dream, she had stars in her eyes, like a reflection of the most brilliant star field. Because of that vision, I was determined to learn everything about stargazing, figuring it was some sort of sign. A way to find her. To find out who this captivating female was that stared at me while I slept.

Snow covered the ground and crunched beneath my boots, leaving large boot tracks within the fluffy white mounds. I loved the sound it made when my boots chewed against the forgiving ice. Tiny little flakes fell in dainty flurries around me. My vision was filled with an array of different snowflakes dancing around my head like they wanted to put on a special show just for me.

Looking up just ahead of the trail, I could see the large telescopes perched atop the summit and my memory of their size didn’t do them justice. Just their size alone emanated power and might. The fact that the human eye could see such astrophysical beauty—it was a wonder to think of the details those powerful telescopes could observe and record.

The moon was very large and almost completely full tonight. The reflection of the sun’s rays across the lunar surface illuminated the dark sky along with the blanket of glimmering stars. Just a tiny little slice of the Earth’s shadow was cast along the moon’s edge. Each divot and hill of the lunar landscape was clearly visible to the naked eye. I felt like, at this altitude, I could just reach out and touch the gray, powdery surface. Knowing it wasn’t possible, but still wanting to try, I reached my hand up toward the glowing orb. I took a moment to examine the contrast between my gloved hand and the distant, rocky terrain of the moon. My silhouetted fingers looked almost transparent as my eyes attempted to adjust between the bright surface of the rock and the darkness of my glove.

Suddenly, I noticed movement to my right. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me in an attempt to readjust from the bright glow of Earth’s satellite. My eyes darted quickly to the right to catch what was moving beyond the shadows of the mountainous rock walls.

As I whipped my head to the side, I met with a pair of breathtaking amethyst irises. My heart began to beat wildly as I took in the sight of my love. Millions of stars reflected in her purple eyes, like shimmering diamonds.

It was like a more detailed version of my first dream about her. Stars in her eyes. Their bright reflection contrasting with the deep, vibrant purple. Her eyes were alive and they were looking at me, begging to look into my soul.

Her curly golden hair was tucked neatly under her parka. Her nose was red with the bite of cold air whipping around us. Her lips were a dark purple hue in the moonlit night. Her soft smile was absolutely stunning as she broke our trance and looked up at the night sky in wonder. Light flakes of snow landed on her eyelashes like falling confetti at a New Year’s celebration.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t make a move. It’s as if I had spotted a doe in the woods and wouldn’t dare startle her in fear that she may run. I wanted her to stay. Stay with me forever.

I stood there, watching, waiting to see what she would do next. Goose bumps began to rise on her delicate skin as the snow hit her cheeks. As if she was wondering what the cold sensation was, she brought her fingers up to her cheek and gently wiped at the now-wet substance, pulling her fingers away to look at what could have caused the chill. She gazed back up at the night sky and held her hands out, catching the small flurries of snowflakes in her hands and smiling at the vision of them melting once they touched her skin.

Then she looked at me and bit her luscious lip as if she were nervous to speak to me. God, what I wouldn’t give to release that lip from her teeth and kiss her passionately—making her irrevocably mine. I would make sure she knew how much she meant to me. With one single kiss, I was certain I could make her understand her importance in my life.

A brisk wind blew, causing the smell of jasmine to overtake my senses. That smell, as did her eyes, called out to me, summoning me closer.

I heard no sound, but the word her mouth formed was clear as day. She said my name. It might have been nothing more than a whisper. But, I saw her mouth breathe the word, “Jonah.”

I had the sudden urge to reach out to her. I had to touch her. Hold her. It felt so natural to want to embrace her and comfort her on this chilly night high in the mountains.

Slowly, I made the few steps it took to be right in front of her. In response, she took a tentative step back. My brow furrowed as I assessed her retreat. This wasn’t the usual reaction I received from her. If anything, in past encounters, she would be beckoning me to close the gap between us. This time, I was taking the initiative. Yet, she didn’t feel the same.

Still confused, I decided to be bold and hold my arms out, welcoming her into my warm embrace. Her tense body relaxed slightly and her foot took one tiny step in my direction. Her eyes met mine and her smile broadened, effectively dissolving my cold and distant heart. My entire body shook with anticipation and need as she took another step right into my arms.

Sighing with the wait of six years melting over me, I closed my arms gently around her, savoring every moment I would have with her body pressed against mine.

At the moment I anticipated my arms would meet her body, I felt nothing but air—a vacant space where she should have been. The parkas were thick, but I knew I should still have felt her pressed against me. I opened my eyes to see a million tiny sparks, like a puff of shimmering glitter, burst within my grasp, leaving nothing but a purple vapor in her wake.

She was gone. Just a mist of sparkling fairy dust remained and floated delicately to the snow-covered surface of the mountain. For several long moments, I just stared in shock as the tiny sparks sizzled and disappeared against the bitter cold of cotton-white fluff.

I dropped to my knees in the snow and couldn’t help my sobbing screams as I pleaded for her to return to me. I held my hands out in astonishment as I wondered how the hell I managed to let her slip away. She was right there! I knew she was right there with me! I could smell her scent. I could feel her warm breath against my face. I could see the steam rise from her mouth when she breathed my name.

“No!” I yelled as I pressed my palms to my face, burying my screams and muffling my repetitive cries of denial. She left me. Again. I should have gotten used to it by now. But, it seemed that every time she left me, the pain was worse than before.

I couldn’t breathe. Something was smothering me, but it wasn’t my hands. Some sort of fluff filled my mouth, causing me to gag as I breathed it into my chest. I began to cough. Then coughed some more. Fluffy white material spat out of my mouth as I hacked up whatever was suffocating me.

Abruptly, I awoke, startled, and realizing I had ripped my pillow to shreds. Moisture covered my face, causing some of the down from the pillow to stick to my cheeks.

This time, instead of wiping away the evidence of my sorrow, I became angry. Sitting up in bed, I ran my fingers through my hair and harshly pulled at the strands to prove to myself I was actually awake. I growled, actually growled, in some sort of feeble attempt to gain control of myself.

With anger filling my veins, I threw the shredded pillow across the room and quickly swept all the extra feathers off my bed before burying myself beneath my covers. Assuming I was actually a grown man, I was determined not to sob like a little baby.

I was so close. She knew my name. I was almost able to touch her. I could have touched her! Then she vanished into thin air as quickly as she appeared. Gone. Leaving me stranded on top of Mauna Kea—the most romantic place to gaze at the stars.

Part of me wanted to hurry up and fall back asleep, just for the chance to see her once more, promising myself I wouldn’t try to touch her again and knowing I would surely fail. Another part of me wanted to never sleep again for fear that she would continue to leave me… alone, cold, and in emotional turmoil.

I didn’t move. For hours, I lay there beneath my covers wondering how I was going to go through life with this ache that filled my heart every time I lost her.

I couldn’t force myself to get out of bed the next morning—nor did I even want to try. I had no classes today. The kiln was definitely cool by now but my shipment of amethyst gems wouldn’t arrive until sometime midday. Jay was scheduled to unlock and monitor the studio. So, there was no point in attempting real life until at least noon.

I didn’t sleep either. No part of my body could calm down enough to go back to sleep. My mind was going a mile a minute and my heart was pounding out of my chest. I felt my pulse through every part of my body, right down to my toes. Not to mention I no longer had a pillow. I’m not sure if I was still recovering from my dream, nervous about the possibility of having another dream, or anxious about the outcome with my dad’s attempts to contact Delphina.

To pass the time, I listened to the rambling thoughts of my neighbors. Most were at work around this time, so the entertainment was rather sparse. One of my middle-aged housewife neighbors was supposed to be working out to her aerobics video, but decided to sit on the couch and watch the video while she ate a piece of pie she baked the night before. A teen was sneaking back into her house after playing hooky from school and texting her boyfriend that the coast was clear. Another neighbor, an older man named Mr. Gibbins, who was in his 70s, got a kick out of what he called his “nudie magazines”.

I cringed as his thoughts became rather graphic.

One thing that bothered me the most about my telepathic gift was when people thought of sex and masturbation. The last thing I wanted to hear was an old man’s mental conversation with a magazine bunny as he got off. Some people had seriously sick sexual desires and knowing their secrets was definitely not the highlight of my day.

Hoping to busy my mind and block out the sexual escapades of my overzealous neighbor, I reached for the small sketchpad and colored pencils I kept on the nightstand beside my bed. Opening to an empty page, I began my sketch of her. My rendition of last night’s vision paled in comparison to her loveliness. Of course, none of my sketches ever did her beauty any justice.

This sketch would be a close-up of her face, just a hint of her hair covered by the thick parka, and of course, her eyes, sparkling with millions of stars swathing the night sky. Her lips were moist and glistening as snow flurries melted against her warm skin.

My almost-finished sketch was interrupted by thoughts of an overbearing, but loving, mother trekking her way up my steps.

My mom, who was not telepathic in any way, knew how to project her thoughts directly to me. She knew that if she thought of speaking to me out loud, I would hear her over the constant rumble of other’s thoughts mixed in my head.

I guess she also knew I wasn’t eating much lately, because I could hear her thoughts clear as crystal as she climbed the last landing of steps up to my apartment.

I’m bringing you some lunch whether you like it or not, Jonah. So if you want any say in what you get, you better bring your butt out of your room and spend some time with me.
Most of the time, she would knock on the door or call and speak to me in person, even though she always knew I would hear her thoughts long before she actually reached the parking lot. But, somehow, she could tell I was not up for conversation today. I had to admit, I had been a little difficult to be around over the past month.

She brought the fixings to make chicken salad sandwiches, which was perfectly fine in my book. Although, she was insisting on me drinking water instead of coke, which made me roll my eyes. That was one thing I wouldn’t have a choice on, in spite of the fact I actually did drag my ass out of my bedroom.

Quickly getting showered and dressed, and leaving the mess of down feathers all over my room, I ambled my way to the kitchen where my mom had my food ready and waiting on the snack bar.

“You always know how to make your boy smile,” I said as I gave her a light peck on the cheek. “Thank you for lunch.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, Jonah,” my mom said as she turned and gave me a tight hug. “What are your plans for today?”

“I’m waiting for a package, and then I need to do something at Lavendine before I meet with the director at the museum. Oh, Jay wanted you to know that he was a good boy and didn’t eat my food last night. He was so proud of himself,” I added with a roll of my eyes. “Think you could make him a sandwich and I’ll take it to him? He’s holding down the fort at the studio today.”

“Ahh. Of course I will. I love that boy as if he were my own. Also, your package already came. It was sitting by the door when I came up, so I placed it on the table in the foyer,” she said with a slight nod in the general direction.

I quickly scarfed down the last of my sandwich as I mumbled a thank you and darted for the package. I was a little perturbed they left such an expensive item on the public doorstep of an apartment. But, my anticipation quickly quelled my annoyance. The amethyst stones were perfect. Excitement coursed through my veins again as I rolled the stones in my palm, watching them sparkle and glisten in the sun’s rays shining through the window.

Watching the tiny purple gems shimmering in my hand made me think of her. Gazing at the crystalized purple rocks was like gazing into her eyes, twinkling with the reflection of nighttime stars. Last night’s dream slammed back into me like a ton of bricks and I suddenly lost all the air from my lungs. Accidentally dropping a few gems onto the table, I gripped the back of the chair and stood for a moment, steadying my breath and regaining consciousness.

I shook my head to get rid of thoughts of her. I needed to focus. I had to get to the studio right away so I would be ready for my meeting at four.

Truth was, I could never clear my thoughts of her. If anything, I could at least not think about last night’s dream. Then again, I didn’t want to forget the good parts. The twinkle in her eyes. The smell of jasmine. The smile she wore just for me. My name forming from her luscious lips.

I just had to forget the last part… for my sanity, and for the hope of anyone who dared cross my path today, I had to forget she left me. Again.

What the hell?
my mom’s thoughts practically shouted. Then she really yelled, “Jonah!”

Oh shit. What did I do now?
Just as I considered the question, I heard her thoughts. She was in my room.
Nice.

“What’s the matter, Mother dearest?” I said rather condescendingly as I walked through my bedroom door. I knew good and well what was the matter… and she knew that I knew. So, my smartass question was rewarded with a look of a she-devil as my mom stared me down while standing amongst a sea of down feathers.

I couldn’t help myself… I laughed.

“What the hell happened in here, Jonah?” she screeched as she flung her hands out and gestured around the room. Then she looked over to the open sketchbook on my bed and my laughing came to a complete halt.

My mom knew about my dreams and she seemed to understand more, or at least was more compassionate, than my father was.

“You dreamed of her again last night?” I didn’t respond, so she continued. “Tell me about it, will you? I’d love to hear more about her.” A small, sympathetic smile played on my mom’s face. How could I turn her down when she looked at me like that? I was seriously an easy target for her motherly charm.

I made my way over to my bed, grabbed the sketchbook and stared at it for a moment before plopping down, causing a few errant feathers to poof into the air and slowly float back down to the sheets. My mom brushed a few feathers to the floor and sat down next to me.

“Jonah,” she said with pity in her eyes. Gently, she began rubbing her fingernails along my back, knowing a good back scratch was my weakness. It relaxed me and I knew, no matter what age, I would never grow too old for my mother’s comfort.

 
“It was so real last night, Mom. She was real. I could smell her scent. She smells of jasmine. She even mouthed my name and I felt like I knew every thought going through her mind without words even being spoken. It’s almost as if our thoughts were one in the same. Then, when I finally tried to touch her, she vanished. She was gone. I was left with nothing but a few sparks of purple as she disappeared before my eyes. That was when I woke up to this mess. In my despair of losing her yet again, I guess I shredded my pillow.”

“She’s very beautiful, you know,” my mom said as she continued to comfort scratch. “I love seeing your sketches of her and how much more detailed they seem to become. When did you do that large one over there?”

I sat up and looked over at the large drawing on my easel. I knew which one she spoke of, but I still felt the need to look at it as I spoke.

“Two nights ago. The dream, just like last night’s, felt so damn real. And again, she disappeared on me. It’s as if I was never meant to touch her. As if touching her is somehow forbidden,” I explained, still staring at the large drawing of my love on her horse.

“Well, Jonah. I only worry about your health in this situation. I know you like dreaming of her. Heck, you may even love her. If I know what love is at all, then I’m almost certain you love her. But, you need to care for yourself, son. You’re practically skin and bones and I hate seeing you so unhealthy. You hardly take time to eat. You wake up totally heartbroken. And, there’s only so much heartbreak a man can take before it breaks him completely. Please, just care for yourself. Try to make the best of each encounter you have with her in your dreams and think of the positive aspects of them. It may help you get through each day,” she lectured with a love that made me realize just how sincere of a woman she was.

Knowing I was now excited to get on with my day, my mom offered to clean my room, despite my protests, and ushered me out the door. In no time, I had my ass in the car and headed toward Lavendine.

Bouncing through the door wearing a pseudo-smile, I saw Jay working with a few other members on recycling some of the community clay. It was nice having people do the busy work. I didn’t mind getting my hands dirty, but recycling clay wasn’t exactly fun. However, it did pass the time when it was my turn to monitor the place.

The glaze on the frogs turned out perfect. Using some specialized glue, I carefully adhered two gems to one of the frogs, placing them so they fit perfectly into the crevices I created for their eyes. Once the gems were in place, I held the little one in my palm and looked at her, turning her this way and that to catch the gleam of sunlight that sparkled off her amethyst eyeballs.

Perfect.

I was in a fairly good mood as I made my way to the museum. My mom’s constant need to care for me might have had something to do with it. The way the glazing application turned out with the frogs definitely influenced my cheery disposition as well. The way the amethyst gems looked within the eye sockets of the frog was certainly a good reason to smile. It was a perfect complement to an already amazingly detailed piece of art.

Walking up to the building ten minutes before my scheduled meeting, I felt suddenly overwhelmed by the voices in my head. It was almost like everyone within a ten-mile radius was projecting their thoughts directly into my brain. The volume on the busy thoughts around me was suddenly cranked up to the maximum level and I couldn’t make out any distinct voice as my mind was assaulted with chatter.

With the unexpected barrage of minds, I began to feel dizzy. The voices were making my head spin and my ears ring. I tried desperately to put up a block, not to block my thoughts from others, but to hopefully block their thoughts from me. It was something my father said I could do with practice, but obviously, I had no clue how.

Cradling the precious frog in my pocket, I dropped to the concrete sidewalk just outside the museum doors and held my ears with my hands, frantic for the noise to cease.