The Holding Place

Chapter 10

I wrench my head out quickly through the picture frame. I am breathing heavily from the shock of those blue eyes. I take in my surroundings. The hallway has transformed back into the dark purple darkness that greeted me right after my impulsiveness with Michael. The only different is that it is more quiet this time, almost eerily so.


In any direction my hand shoots out it is met with the velvet of the purple blackness that engulfs me. It gives way when I walk around. The lights are still shooting off above me in a cascade of beautiful colors. They do not do much in the way of lighting a way in front of me.


Claustrophobia is threatening to take hold of me. Tight, dark spaces have always been something that I hated. It brings back vague memories of a childhood dream of mine where I am being smothered. I would begin screaming and my mother would slap me awake to tell her that I am annoying her with the childish screams. Sometimes I would wet the bed during these dreams and my mother wouldn’t let me change my clothes, making me sleep in my own mess. 


The sound of a sobs wafts towards me from a place near-by. I strain my ears to listen for the direction that it might be coming from. It is muffled but audible enough for me to know that I must walk forward to find where it is coming from. It is not like the sounds from earlier that sounded mingled and far away. The sobs are clear. Experience has taught me the song of the broken hearted.


The thick, wet blackness spreads out around me and a pale blue glow comes into view. I move towards it and walk into a park that is in the midst of a cold winter. The trees are bare of leaves and their branches cast ominous shadows on the ground against the moonlight. The wind lightly rustles them and creates a crackling sound.


The sobbing is coming from a man sitting on a stone bench along a foot-beaten path. He is dressed in a large coat and jeans. He is holding what looks like a book in his hands and he is crying over it. It hurts to listen to him, the pain in his sobs are so great. It is too dark and I am too far away from him to take in any identifying features of him.


I walk towards him to take a better look. I want to see who he is and what he is holding in his hands.  I place my feet upon the ground gingerly, using the ample moonlight above me to avoid any dry twigs that will snap easily underneath my weight. I do not want to chance startling, not sure if he is able to see me or not. I have the inkling that this man might mean something to me.


Snap.


A rather large twig snaps loudly underneath my foot only mere feet from where the man is sitting. He is startled and jerks his head in my direction quickly. I am frozen to the spot where I stand. He appraises me slowly. He makes no effort to get up or say any words.  He has those same blue eyes that I say on the little boy behind the picture frame in the white hallway.


“Michael?” I ask cautiously.


His eyes grow wide and he rises to his feet. He is looking at me with disbelief. I am looking at him with the same kind of expression. This can’t be real. It is impossible. My mind is play yet another cruel trick on me.


“Abby?” he replies.


He rushes to me and puts his arms around me.  The feeling is all too familiar and I go limp in his arms. My body remembers him instantly but my mind is still grappling with the impossible. I remember smacking the revolver from his hands and the warmth of his blood splattering against my face. A voice called out my name as everything around me faded to black. The whites of his eyes disappeared when they met with mine in my final moments of lucidity. Does he remember all that I do?


We stand like this for a few moments until a warm glow blooms onto my back. Michael raises his head from my shoulder and looks over it. There is a dreamy look in his eyes. The air is heavy with salt and my ears pick up the gentle rolls of waves along the seashore. Michael takes my hand in his and guides me towards a gorgeous scene of tropical paradise.


“Have you ever seen anything quite so magnificent?” he asks me breathlessly.


The smell of an ocean breeze and the calming lull of crashing waves have always been his weakness. His secret dream is to leave his city life behind him and spend his every waking moment sketching the things he thought most beautiful. The images that came to life in his mind and through the charcoal in his hands were amazing. He was always embarrassed when I praised his artistic talent and would balk when I would want to frame them to put up on the walls in our home.


My body is real again and my skin is lightly kissed by the sun. My hair is loose of any constraints and tumbling freely behind me as Michael whisks me away towards a patch of palm trees by the hand. As we walk I appreciate the flexing of the strong muscles that make up the landscape of his back. Health is important to Michael and the hours spent in the gym every week easily shows on every firm plane of his body.


He pushes me playfully against a pull tree, pressing his soft lips to mine. I let out a sensual sigh at the contact. The pain of the past four years melts away from me as my mind comes alive with the memory of our love. I let him explore further and give my hand the freedom to get reacquainted with his body.  His body fits so perfectly against mine. I push harder against him. I want, no need, to imprint the searing warmth of his skin against my own. Four years I have gone without it and I never want to forget him again.


“My beautiful, beautiful Abby,” he breathes into my ear as his hands delve into the thick richness of my hair. “So beautiful and perfect you are.”


There is no need for a response; my body is telling him everything that he needs to know.  He takes my face sweetly between his large hands and rubs the pad of his thumb lovingly along my jawline. He is studying my face in a way a lover and artist both might study their muse. I let him study away as I lose myself in the aqua beauty of his eyes. This blue of his eyes are unique. There must be thousands of different shades of blues flecked within them with a sprinkling of gold ringed around the pupils.


There is something missing from deep within his eyes. It takes me a moment to pinpoint exactly what it is that no longer resides there. I have seen nothing in his eyes in the past for years save for the tortured remnants of his memories.  The lids are heavy with more than just his response to being so intimately close to me. Tears prick at my eyes when I realize the emotions that are swimming in his gaze. I let out a soft cry and wrap my arms tightly around his neck.


We exchange open mouthed kisses and slide down the tree to the white sand that is warm between our toes. He loves and worships every inch of me underneath the glow of the sun in the middle of our tropical paradise. Michael and I have never shared anything more beautiful.


“I want to remember you like this forever,” he says lovingly, with his head in his hand as he lies alongside me.


There is not a cloud insight to mar the breathtaking azure sky above us.  I smile up at him as I trace my fingers lightly along the contours of his face. He places a gentle kiss at the tip of my nose and turns his stare to the blue-green sea lapping gently at the shore. He never wants to leave this place.


“Let me draw you,” he says quietly.


I perk up an eyebrow at him and look down at my naked body. I frown at what I see. My breasts are too small and slightly uneven. Unsightly freckles dab along my pale navel. My skin is a white that turns purple at the first subtle chill that touches the air. This is a body I have never been able to feel comfortable.


“Just let me wrap myself in a towel or something first,” I reply and get up to find the pieces of my bathing suit and sarong.


Michael grabs my wrists and gently pulls me down to him. He sits me directly in front of my and pushes my unruly curls from my face. He gently pecks my mouth and trails down to the sensitive spot behind my eyes. He splays his hands over my navel and gives my rounded curves a gentle squeeze.


“I want to draw you just like this. I want to capture the full beauty that is your body and make it timeless. Will you do that for me, love?”


My eyes are still entranced with him and without thinking about it I slowly nod to him. I want him to remember like this. He always had a way of making me feel as if I was the most beautiful woman to him and on Earth. That is the whole reason I fell in love with him. He helped me find the strength to spread my wings and find freedom within his love. Our marriage might never have been perfect but the love we felt for each other in the beginning certainly was.


“What are you thinking about?” he asks, sketching my naked form lying in the sand and catching the wistful expression on my face.


I let the words linger on my tongue for a few moments as I observe the graceful movements of his hands as he carries the pencil across the paper of his sketchbook. “Just how wonderful you are and the wonderful years we have spent together.”


A strange flicker enters his eyes. “Don’t you mean the wonderful years we are going to spend together?”


I got caught up in the joy of being close to him that I didn’t bother to survey my surroundings more closely to try to figure out the place that I have stumbled upon. I continue to keep my body still as Michael continues to sketch me. My stomach ties itself up in knots of disappointment.


I’m not watching another memory. I have observed enough to know that something is different this time. I’m not simply watching the memory this time; I am living it. I am no long some bodiless entity floating around somewhere on Earth or into someone else’s memories. I can touch my husband and talk to him. Michael is able to touch me and respond to me. It has stretched out too long for my mind to be playing tricks on me.


“Abby?”


“Oh, yes, the many loving and wonderful years we will spend together,” I reply, smiling at him as he draws.


“Norah too,” I tack on.


His expression becomes puzzled. “Who is Norah?”


I close my eyes briefly to hide my sadness from him. I don’t want to ruin this perfect moment. I want to stay like this with him forever. “Norah, my favorite name for a little girl.”


He smiles. “Someday, my love.”


He puts his fingers together and places an exaggerated kiss on their tips, indicating that he is done with his sketch. It never took him long to create beautiful images with his hands. He turns over the sketchbook to show me his artwork. The likeness he has captured my form in is much too forgiving but I love the sketch all the same. Despite my deep-rooted shyness about my body it doesn’t even occur to me to blush and I give out a light-hearted laugh.


“I call it, “My Lover in the Down Under,” he teases.


“We aren’t even in Australia, or anywhere near it.”


He flashes me an impish grin and roves his eyes hungrily down my body, stopping right below my navel. “That isn’t what I meant.”


I shriek in delightful surprise as he quickly bolts to his feet and flings me over his shoulder before I have the chance to defend myself. He gives my bottom a soft love pat and heads for the direction of the water. It dawns on me what he is aiming to do and I pound my fists against his back, calling him a barbarian and demanding that he puts me down.


“Put me down right now, you Neanderthal!” I squeal.


“And miss the opportunity to do this?” he asks wickedly and the next thing I know I’m flung from his grasp and into the waves.


The air whooshes from my lungs at the shock of the temperature of the water. I break the surface of the water screeching bloody murder and covered in thick gobs of dark green seaweed. I become even more enraged when a large wave dunks me under a second time. When I come up again I hear Michael laughing like a raving lunatic.


“I’m going to kill you,” I yell at him as I trudge my wet body out of the water.


He is still laughing as I make my way towards him. Anger slides away from me when I observe the genuine happiness in his laughter. I begin to laugh a little to myself at the pettiness of my anger. During the past four years I would have given anything to have Michael submerge me to dunk me under icy cold waters if it meant that I would be rewarded with the sound of his laugh.


“Michael, please don’t do this. There isn’t much time left. You must show them that you are still here somewhere with us,” the familiar voice of Michael’s sister sobs pleadingly from somewhere up above me.


I look to the once clear sky and see a dark storm cloud forming on the horizon. In the middle of the cloud is the blurry image of a white room illuminated by harsh fluorescent lighting. A woman is holding the hand of a man apparently trapped in a deep coma. A middle aged woman and man stand behind her, a little girl in the man’s arms. Everyone but the little girl is crying. The little girl is staring down at the unconscious man in confusion.


Two doctors are in the room and they are saying something to the family but I cannot hear what is being said. The sobs become more wretched the longer the doctors stay in the room. One is walking over to Michael and pointing to various cords and tubes. The middle aged woman cannot bother to listen to any more of what the doctor has to say and bolts quickly out of the room. My heart sinks as I watch her exit the room.


I look on to Michael as he is laughing. I just want to stand on this beach with him and listen to him laugh forever. There is not a more comforting sound to me than the gentle rolls of his laughter. Tears burn at my eyes and I let them roll freely down my cheeks. I’m going to miss the sound of his laughter.


I tell the broken part of me that this could not have gone on forever and that there were signs all along. The boy not opening his presents under the Christmas tree and hearing him cry aloud in the middle of the purple darkness were all signs that the next coming moments are inevitable. I could stay here and get lost with Michael forever.


I know what drives you and what terrifies you, Casey’s words echo back to me. The meaning of her words finally comes together. It is the last thing that I want to do but I have no other choice. I love Michael. It will be the hardest thing that I will ever do.


“Michael,” I quiver.


His laughter disappears as soon as he catches sight of the tears streaming down my face. He comes towards me with his arms outstretched but I throw my arm out in front of me. Confusion breaks over me as my hand touches his hard chest. I’m dying for him to wrap his arms around me one last time but it is something that I can’t let him do. He will embrace me and I will never be able to let him go.


I let my free hand soft cup his handsome face and lift a watery smile to him. This is just a dream for him but real to me. He may or may not remember it. I fervently hope that he does. It might bring back to him all that he has allowed himself to let go of in the past four years.


“This is all just a dream,” I say to him.


He frowns slightly before giving replacing it with a weak smile. “Paradise always is.”


I choke back a sob. He simply has no idea. “There are things you aren’t finished doing, Michael. We can’t stay here any longer.”


“Abby, what has gotten into you?”


I place a small kiss upon his lips. “I’ll never stop loving you; our vows were until death do us part. But now it is time for me to let you go and for you to wake up. Take good care of her, Michael. She will never stop needing you.


I step back from him and my steps bring me instinctively back to the water. My chest is iced over with fear and I force myself to take my first steps into the cold waves. The large swell is rushing right towards me, threatening and malevolent. I am swept roughly up inside of it.


Michael’s screams are the last thing I hear before I am once again enveloped in darkness.