Free The Light of Asteria by Elizabeth Isaacs Page B

I
concentrated on every delicious thought, marveling at the warmth of
emotions saturating my body and the intensity of it all.
    The beauty of the pre-dawn fog entered my
mind. Instinctively, I let my senses ripple the emotions through
the trees, visualizing a wave of thought drifting downward like the
morning mist. The mountain hushed; the night stilled. A whisper of
his tenor caressed my heart—I knew it immediately. He was above the
valley somewhere.
    Concentrating on that whisper, I focused as
hard as I could. His image was so sharp in my mind that he could
have been standing on our porch. A translucent hint of my creature
enveloped me, caressing me, and understanding me. Peace ebbed
through every fiber of my being as if to say goodnight. I held on
for a moment, my heart joyfully pounding as the creature’s caress
increased its pressure. Opening my eyes, I searched the stars.
    Goodnight, Gavin, wherever you
are .
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     
    Chapter 6—The Fall
Festival
     
    Over the next week, my academic education
took a backseat to maintaining the color blue. As I drove to class,
I discovered that trying to physically do a task while keeping your
mind empty was difficult. My concentration waned for a moment, and
Edna’s small frame flashed through. I caught her several times
watching the mountain with sad resignation. It seemed as if
recounting her perfect day brought painful memories to the surface.
Edna had lived a beautiful life after just ten hours with her
Michael. I would have to trust I could do the same.
    The teacher droned on about whatever, but I
was so concentrated on controlling my mind it really didn’t matter.
I was proud of myself as I drove home; my focus was better. The
carnival was tomorrow night, and then it was just a few short days
until Friday.
    I went upstairs and watered the now four
oversized pots of Carolina lilies laden with blooms under the
windowsill. Slumber gave way to distant images. I strained to focus
… Gavin held my hand as we walked through town. Black clouds
billowed in from the coast. The wind whipped through my hair. A
storm approached, roaring like a fiend. Gavin ran a few paces
ahead, as night fell over the land. The bright moonlight muted to a
purple haze. “Hurry Nora, hurry!” he urged. My muscles burned from
the effort, and Main Street melded into unfamiliar woods. I glanced
back. Slick, obsidian silhouettes, trapped in tar, thrashed and
lunged, growing closer. Fear pounded in my veins; hundreds of
hammering hooves thundered through the forest. Whisper white
screams rejoiced as they anticipated tearing my flesh from the
bone. Black wisps of death lashed at my feet, and I tripped. “No!”
Gavin cried, as he ran back towards me. The onyx bodies bounded on
him, white noise drowning out his plea—and then he was gone.
    I woke up with my face screaming into the
pillow. Sweat matted the hair against my neck. The subdued light
filtering through the window told of the sun’s imminent presence;
Edna would be up soon. I got my toiletry basket and went to the
bathroom. The hot shower repressed the dream, and by the time I
made my way downstairs I felt almost normal again.
    Sweats on, pail in hand, remembering the
broken hinge from what seemed a lifetime ago, I hiked across the
meadow to the barn. The beauty of the fog brought back memories of
my new nightly ritual, and I blushed.
    Chickens fed, and pail now full of warm milk,
I walked back toward the house. Seven painted buntings stood side
by side on the railing of the back stoop. I approached them slowly;
the vibrant orange that ringed their intelligent eyes told they
tracked my movements. They waited until the back door opened before
flying away. Edna sat on the window seat, flowered mug in hand.
    “Mornin, Ed … Do you have any idea what’s up
with those birds?”
    “It is odd, isn’t it?” she agreed. “When I
was your age, I always thought they were watching me … used to give
me the heebie jeebies.”