Authors: Amelia Grace
Georgia was here. I stared at my notes and drawings and listened to where she was. I had no idea. Until she touched my shoulder, ever so lightly, walked around the desk and sat down looking at me.
She giggled. I smiled at her gently, wondering what was so amusing.
‘Am I entertaining you Georgia?’ I asked, becoming self conscious. She leaned in closer.
‘Your hair is all ruffled. It’s kinda delicious,’ she whispered. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to control it somewhat. I must have had my hand resting in my hair as I was researching. I hope I haven’t scared her off with my wild look.
‘Are you going to attempt to eat it Miss Harrison?’ I asked quizzically.
‘Maybe later it you’re lucky Mr Darcy....come, I know the perfect place where we will be alone,’ she suggested. Mmmm, alone with Georgia. It sounded very nice.
I followed her through the library maze until she finally stopped at a dead end in the library. The books were old, their information out of date. But they were kept for I don’t know why – historical reasons. Perhaps this was the book museum?
We sat down on the floor at the very end, Georgia’s face lit up like we were 7 year olds hiding in a secret tree house or something. Her beauty blinded me sometimes, and this was a time that it did.
I smiled back at her and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, touching her lightly. I saw her take a short sharp breath. Maybe she did like me more than I thought she did. She was very hard to read.
Georgia pulled the bloody book out from her bag, and also a brown paper bag. She kept the bloody book in her hands, and handed me the brown paper bag. I knew what it was before I opened it. I could smell the ginger spices escaping from the bag like a prisoner. I broke off a piece and put it into my mouth. Then I broke off another piece and offered it to Georgia. She opened her mouth for me to put it in there
, surprising me. I did, and gently wiped a crumb from her soft bottom lip with my finger. My body tingled in pleasure, and I looked deeply into her eyes. I should have kissed her. It was the perfect opportunity. But I didn’t. I needed to know how she felt about me before I made an idiot of myself kissing her because I read her signals wrongly. I was here just to listen to her read from the bloody book. That is what I had agreed to. We were not out on a date, or even dating for that matter. Our paths had only crossed because of the bloody book.
I looked back at the gingerbread man
to break off another piece to eat.
‘I thought that you didn’t share your gingerbread Cohen. That is twice now that you have shared it with me,’ she remarked. I smiled crookedly, my eyes on the legless gingerbread man.
‘It’s the way that I test it Georgia – for poisoning, you know. Gingerbread men can be very sneaky, you know,’ I said as I looked up at her. She was smiling at me, melting my heart.
‘Read to me Georgia. Where does Ethan live?’ I asked, encouraging her to start reading from the bloody book.
She gazed into my eyes for a long moment before she looked down at the page in the bloody book. She did not notice me take a sharp intake of breath, my feelings for her escalating. How she affected me. She was like a drug, and I was beginning to get addicted to her.
My Georgia.....
“
’
And that was the last that I saw of him. Like ships that pass in the night. A fleeting nanosecond in a lifetime of thirty-two million seconds. He left me downhearted. I wanted to go to a dark corner and release my tears for him. I wanted to tell him that he did have a place in the universe, and that he would be alright in his journey of life. We are never alone.....never. I wanted him to feel the amazing grace and presence of our Giver of Life. One can never come to being without His approval. I wanted him to know. But I never told him. He may remain lost in his closed dark world of self-doubt, self- loathing. I prayed that he would come back. If he didn’t, I had failed in my beliefs, my compassion for humanity.
I paused while I gathered my composure, and then returned to my day’s work. How will I forget him? How will I forgive myself? Life goes on I reminded myself........’”
A tear was falling from Georgia’s eye. I leaned closer to her and brushed the tear away with my thumb. She looked up at me through her long eyelashes, her face full of grief. I took a deep breath, moved by her sadness. Then I pulled her close to me and wrapped my arms around her and held her against my chest, feeling her quiet sobs, her tears wetting my skin. I kissed the top of her head, and we sat in complete silence as I comforted her for a long time. I stroked the ends of her hair with slow movements of my hand, closed my eyes and connected to her presence touching me, her body warmth against mine. I sent healing thoughts through my mind, hoping to enter the realm of spiritual comfort. Georgia,
my Georgia........
She pulled away from me, and looked into my eyes and whispered thank-you
. A deep longing for her came from the core of my being. I took a deep breath. I tilted my head to the side and nodded my head gently to her. I didn’t know what to do next. Should I talk to her? Should I say something, or should I wait until she spoke first? If only I knew.....of only I could read her mind……frustrating.
She leaned over and placed her hand on my heart, lightly.
‘Go with your heart Cohen. Don’t over think,’ she said quietly. Was she answering my unspoken question? How did she know? I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply and whispered thank-you to her.
I felt her hand on the side of my face. It was so warm, so full of life energy. I opened
up my eyes slowly and looked at her as she trailed her finger along my jawline before pulling her hand away. Our eyes were locked in each other, knowing. What was this spell she was casting on me? I felt like she had touched my heart, my mind, and I wanted to melt her into me to have her forever. She looked back to the bloody book while I continued to drink her in. I leaned my head against the wall behind me and closed my eyes. What was she doing to me? I don’t do girls. Her seraphic voice entered my head as she continued to read.
“’Hours turned into days, and days into months, but there was no sign of Ethan. He was forever in my mind, haunting me day and night. I searched his name everywhere that I could possibly think of, and there was no record of him anywhere. There was no reference to his name, and no registered birth. He did not exist – apparently. I had to forget about him. There was nothing that I could do for him anymore. I had my chance and blew it. I prayed that I had planted a seed of hope in his mind in our one and only conversation. All things are possible with the Giver of Life. It was in His hands now. I had to hold on to my faith, my hope, my prayer. All things are possible.
And then one day as I worked, he was there. He appeared, standing in front of me, emotionless, his eyes desolate, full of self loathing’”
Georgia stopped reading the bloody book
at the sound of my irritating watch alarm.
‘Sorry,’ I mouthed to her and winced. ‘I have to go to meet someone,’ I tried to explain without sounding harsh. Her eyes widened in what – fear? And then disappointment covered her face like a cloak. My heart twisted. Had I hurt her by leaving? Or was i
t something else? If only I could read her mind – what was she thinking? I ran my hand through my hair, torn between staying with Georgia, and with meeting with Mia. But Mia had been adamant, and our point of meeting was branded as urgent. I couldn’t stay with Georgia, even though that was what my head and heart were screaming out at me.
I stood, breaking my magnetic connection to her. It hurt, physically. I offered her my hands to help her off the floor. She continued to look down at the bloody book, her face sad, defeated even. She tucked the bloody book away into her bag, flung it over her shoulder and then took both of my offered hands. They felt so good in mine. I didn’t want to let go of them. They radiated a tingling sensation throughout my whole body, making me feel so alive, my heart was singing, bathed in pure happiness.
‘Tomorrow?’ she asked, her voice and eyes full of hope. How could this woman who gave so much hope and energy to others be looking to me for hope? My heart grew arms to hug her.
‘Absolutely,’ I answered, my voice gentle. I looked down and found her hand to hold in mine, and walked back through the library maze with her, intoxicated on the feeling of her hand holding onto mine, until we stopped to part ways outside the university library.
She stood facing me, and placed her hand over my heart again, smiled at me and then turned on her heel and left. I stood, watching her, wanting to run after her and kiss her
. But I did not. Reluctantly I turned, and made my way to the bar to meet Mia – the red head.
As I sipped my scotch, Mia’s low voice greeted me. She led me to a dark corner of the pub, looking around suspiciously before she talked to me.
‘Cohen, we have stepped up security for you. Word is on the street that he plans on taking you out of the picture once he has total control of the technology, and has you sign over the copyright of the MR Implant. He has eradicated any evidence of your presence on the earth on digital storage. Trust no-one. Watch your back. We are tracking your whereabouts and watching people tracking you. You will be protected. You are crucial to Mr Rubin’s impending imprisonment. And we will have him locked up and the key thrown away. Prepare for a rough ride.’
Then she left in haste. Quietly, stealthily.
I finished my scotch before I headed off along the street, strolling along to my apartment. I felt like yelling ‘Human Target Here!’ but I knew that I was safe until after the surgery, until after I had signed all of the documents over to him. If I was dead, he couldn’t claim the designs and patent as his own.
I hit the hot shower as soon as I entered my apartment. My head was turning over the information and designs for my own mind reading device.
I went to bed. But could not sleep.
Tim Jennings’ cell phone vibrated against my leg.
FROM: Georgia Harrison
SUBJECT: Meeting
DATE: May 17 2011 22:07
TO: Tim Jennings
Dear Tim,
You are just like a gingerbread man. You keep running away from me.
Meet me at the park tomorrow.
Georgia #
thankyouformeetingmeeachtime
FROM: Tim Jennings
SUBJECT:
Point Of View
DATE: May 17 201
1 22:10
TO: Georgia Harrison
Dear Georgia,
One day I will meet the fox. Do you know what she looks like?
I look forward to meeting you at the park tomorrow.
Tim #iwonderwhatthestorywouldbelikefromethan’spointofview?
Send …
FROM:Georgia Harrison
SUBJECT:
Hearts and flowers
DATE: May 17 201
1 22:15
TO: Tim Jennings
Dear Tim.
I told you not to overthink things. Sometimes it is best to follow your heart.
Can you meet early tomorrow morning?
Georgia #wheredidyougetthenametimjenningsfrom?
FROM:Tim Jennings
SUBJECT: Childhood Memories
DATE: May 17 201
1 22:18
TO: Georgia Harrison
Dear Georgia,
Have you ever been told that you ask too many questions?
What time tomorrow morning? Or do I even need to ask that question?
Tim #itisthenameofmychildhoodimaginaryfriendifyoureallymustknow!
Send…
FROM:Georgia Harrison
SUBJECT:
Purple
DATE: May 17 201
1 22:22
TO: Tim Jennings
Dear Tim,
Meet you under the wisteria vine. You know what time.
Georgia #youreallyareverycuteMrDarcy!
I smiled to myself as I turned off Tim Jennings. Georgia was a very nice distraction to my complicated world
. That thought stayed with me as I drifted off to sleep…..
*~*~*~*
~*
I sat under the wisteria vine, the magnificent purple blooms suspended above me like
a cascading waterfall, and waited for my Georgia, my heart jumping for joy merely at the thought of seeing her again. It shouldn’t be this way. I don’t do the girlfriend thing.
But then
, the elated feeling of meeting Georgia was overshadowed by the reality of the mind reading device, and where I was possibly headed with it all. What do I do?
Please....what do I do?
I knew what I had to do. I had made a deal with Georgia that I would listen to the bloody book in its entirety, to the very end. And I wouldn’t break my word. Then I would distance myself from her, slowly, so I wouldn’t break my heart, or hers – that is if she had grown to like me. Maybe I was just someone for her to read the book to? And then she would just say thanks very much, it was nice knowing you. If so, be it. The less heart
break the better.