“I’m coming and that’s that,” she finally tells me and I know there’s no point in trying to convince her of anything. So, I agree.
“Alright,” I nod. “I’ll be happy to see you both there.”
The next few minutes are spent in cheerful chatter, as I can’t escape her questions. For a brief moment, my memories are all positive. I don’t think of what happened to me, I’m too focused on the here and now and I’m gushing about the guys who took such good care of me.
“Well, we must invite them all for lunch some time,” my mother tells me and I can’t hide how I feel about it. “What’s so funny?” she continues, hearing me laugh. “I didn’t raise you to be ungrateful, did I?”
“Of course not,” I try to get serious, imagining Theron, Dex and Zarael, followed by the rest of the guys, seated at a table in my mom’s yard is just too much. “They’re just on the road all the time. I doubt they can fit it in.”
“They eat, don’t they?” she asks me again and I’m surprised at the reasoning behind it. Of course, they eat. My silence convinces her that she’s won this war. “Then, it’s settled. When they bring you here, we’ll arrange something.”
“Alright,” I nod at myself more than at her.
“Can you text me when you start?”
“Of course,” I assure her. “I love you. Take care.”
“Love you, too, mom. Bye.”
I hang up, placing the phone carefully on a small table in the corner of the room. I’ve only seen two sleeping shacks so far. Theron’s and Dex’s. And, they couldn’t be more different. Theron’s room is a thinker’s room. Things are neatly arranged and organized, following a certain order. There are books and papers, pens and notebooks. His style is minimalistic. I think it’s because he doesn’t like to be bothered with irrelevant things. Also, a cluttered place can kill someone’s curiosity. I can understand that, even though I prefer creative chaos myself. Then, Dex. There is no order. He puts things where he feels like and it shows. It’s a total anarchy of disalignment in there, even for me. I haven’t seen a single book there. A few magazines maybe, scattered about. His windows are devoid of any curtains. His bed is always unmade. And that bear rug carpet looks like something from a 70s adult movie and I bet he knows that.
I tip toe out of Dex’s shack, but I don’t want to go back to Theron’s place. I feel like I’ve been imposing on his personal space. I’ve occupied his home and forced him to sleep on other couches and maybe even carpets. But, he’s so nice he’d never say a thing about it. So, I decide to let him have his place for the rest of the afternoon and I head over to the lake.
Chapter 16
Zarael
When I hear a noise behind me, I jump and quickly turn around. The nature is so calm and soothing here and any noise outside of it makes you feel like a cornered animal. I half-expect to see one of Leo’s guys, when I see Isabel fighting through some bushes, emerging a little scratched, but victorious. Her hair is all wild, floating in the wind. She looks like a totally diffe
rent person now and it’s difficult to connect her voice to her face. She comes to me with a thoughtful look on her face. I doubt she’s noticed me yet. She takes a few more steps, the plain white t-shirt loose on her, falling off her left shoulder, leaving it bare. Soon enough, she sees me standing there and she waves.
“Funny seeing you here again,” she tells me, as she steps out of her flip flops and presses her feet against the soft grass.
“Yeah,” I smile back. Seriously, what are the odds?
“I really love this place,” she keeps on talking, walking towards the edge of the grass, which stretches into a patch of earth and pebbles, until it is finally swallowed by cool lake water. “I think it’ll be the place I’ll miss the most.”
“You could always come back for a visit,” I tell her, watching her back and the moment I say it, I regret it. Why would she come back? Only bad memories are here. She almost got sold into white slavery, she got beaten up, she was almost maimed for life. I doubt I’d be coming back if I was her.
She turns around, a smile lingers on her face, as it’s illuminated by the afternoon sun. Trees are stretching high up into the sky, offering a little shade, but for the most part, the sun is watching its own reflection in the lake water, like a parallel universe.
She sits down on the still grassy part and keeps staring at the waters surface, as if she’s waiting for something. It almost feels like I’m imposing on her solitude here, even though she’s the one who came after me.
“You think they’re still here?” she suddenly asks me.
“Who?” I reply with a question, walking over to her and sitting next to her.
“Wawetseka and her lover,” she reminds me.
“Oh, that,” I sigh. What the heck. I’ll just say what I believe. “I like to think they both got reincarnated.”
That word echoed all around us, it got entangled in the wind, which carried it far above our heads and into the clouds. I felt like there has never been a more perfect place to say that word. She turns to me and surprisingly, I don’t see any mocking, but true curiosity.
“Reincarnated?” she repeats the word and another echo resounds, as if Nature itself loved hearing that word which modern man seems to have forgotten.
“Well, they suffered a great tragedy. They were killed simply because they loved each other. If you believe in the Universe being all about balance, then the fair thing would be to have them be born again and find each other again, so they can live out their fairy tale life.”
“That’s so sweet,” she smiles at me. “Tell me more.”