The Fated Dance: Bound to the Shadow Dancer (14 page)

The scent of her being coats my nostrils as I fill my lungs for the last time. I fight to keep my hand on her head, as the sensation of her on my fingertips begins to fade. I strain for another shallow breath to take in her smell. I need to be stained with her before I go; to have her with me always.

A jolt of strange energy flows through me and my eyes seal. I see a sunset rise on the inside of my lids, creating a powerful gateway as bright as a hydrogen bomb, blinding me with what is meant to be. I can sense peace, light, and my love for her is now greater than creation itself. What we had, will forever have a purpose.

All things on earth start to leave me, and all there is, is a tranquil radiance I move toward. Then I hear the sound of an angel. A noise of purity. And the reason for my life I see before me. My child. I see her as clear as day: pink skin and big pale blue eyes, gazing right at me. She is in my arms, kicking her tiny legs wonderfully. Like her mom, a dancer. I arch and kiss her tiny warm head, before letting her go back to begin the journey both Jen and I started for her. My time is over, but for my girls it is only just beginning.

This is by no means the end. I’m fully aware now that there is no such thing. Time never ceases; it continues to drift for eternity. Life is the foundation we start and build, and death is the legacy of life.   

The sky dulls with an air of gloom, and the heavens shower down on my skin. My breathing stops in horror with his. His chest doesn’t move. His heart doesn’t beat. And the hand he held firmly on my hair, slides away, and lands behind me with a thud. The rain and tears gush down my face as I scramble upright with speed.

“Grayson,” my fingers tremble on his cheeks. “Grayson!”

I shake him. He has to wake up. What was expected, I will no longer accept. I scream at him, clawing at his wet shirt. The rain tumbles down his handsome features, collecting in his closed eye sockets. He’s been torn away from me, and I have to get him back. It’s not time. There will never be a right time for this.

“Grayson,” I move close so my nose is against his skin. I have to make him hear me. “You… you can’t go… not yet,” I wail, clutching his hand to press against my stomach. “I’m having your baby, Grayson… you have to stay.”

He doesn’t answer, just remains still and serene. I want him to yell at me. Tell me I shouldn’t have kept such a secret from him. He can even hate me for it. I don’t care as long as he wakes.

I cry and hold my head high in the torrent of rain. I pray to god, but he doesn’t listen. I drop down onto his chest and embrace him in my arms, sobbing and squeezing him tight.

“Jen,” Henry’s weak voice calls.

“Oh… my boy,” Winston appears across the lounger, and drops down to his knees.

Dr. Jenkins stands by Winston, and checks Grayson for a pulse. He lowers his head with a nod, and presses his hand down on Winston’s shoulder.

“Ms. Conner,” Jenkins shuffles around the lounger. “You need to come inside,” he touches my back.

“GET OFF ME!” I scream.

Henry lies his hand on Grayson’s forehead, and lets out a loving tear.

“Ms. Conner, please… you’re going to make yourself ill,” Jenkins insists.

I ignore him and close myself off in the darkness. If I let him go, leave him, I fear it will be the last I see him. He might wake up. Open his eyes and say, ‘Only messing with you.’ I’ll forgive him. I’ll forgive him anything if he comes back.

“Jen,” Henry says, quiet. “We need to take Grayson inside… out of the rain.”

I remember how adamant he always was of doing things for himself. And now, he won’t even get up off this damn lounger to go inside. It’s not fair. He doesn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this. I gasp for air, powerless to breathe, and I don’t even think I want to anymore. If I were to drop down dead right now, I would be blessed.

“Oh god,” Henry worries.

Henry grabs one of my arms and Jenkins takes the other, as I waver in a state of light-headedness. They drag me into the bedroom as Winston sobs by his son’s body. My legs have numbed and I’m unable to fight my way back to him.

I cry out, “Grayson, Grayson!”

“I’m going to give you a mild sedative, Ms. Conner,” Jenkins fumbles around in his bag.

“Henry, please… I have to be with him,” I holler. “He needs me.”

“Jen, you are going to make yourself sick if you don’t calm down,” he takes my cheeks in his firm hands. “I love him too.” He shakes his head, then pulls me close and squeezes.

“Sharp pinch, Ms. Conner,” Jenkins injects my bicep.

Within seconds I feel woozy. Every sound and movement around me decelerates. Henry guides me to the bed and sits me down. Then he joins Winston and Jenkins outside, as I try to stay upright and focus.

Henry and Jenkins step over the threshold carrying Grayson’s lifeless body. I watch his hands hanging, flopping around with no life. I desperately pray for them to move. Just to see a flinch of his finger will comfort me. But it doesn’t come.

They lie him on the bed next to me. He looks so perfect. Untouched by the illness that plagued him. I lumber up the mattress and curl beside him, wiping the rain from his cold blue skin and lips. I want to die. I don’t want to live without him.

“We need to make plans,” Winston sniffs.

“Not now… let’s give her some time,” Henry’s voice echoes.

They all leave us. I don’t need time; I need forever. I move as close as possible to him, taking his limp icy hand to my face. His shell is empty, and his touch doesn’t feel the same anymore. I weep and kiss his rigid fingers, waiting for a miracle.

“Jen,” Flick sits behind me on my bed, stroking my hair and altering my duvet. “Please eat something,” she begs.

Like every time she comes into my room to try and pull me from the abyss, I shut my eyes and ignore her, until she leaves me alone. There is no point in her trying. There is no point in existing any more. 

I listen to the wind roaring against my window, and see the black clothes she’s laid out for me arranged on my wicker chair. I exhale and turn over. I don’t want to see them. I don’t want to go and stamp my seal of approval on his passing being okay. But lying this way isn’t any easier either. Looking at the sandwich Flick made for me, and smelling the tuna filling, is making me want to vomit.

I growl and move onto my back, staring at the cracked plaster on the ceiling. This nausea, this bubbling in my gut, is a reminder of what grows inside me. No one knows, and no one shall. The only one who needed to know was Grayson. It was his right. And as well as losing his life, he parted this earth unaware he would have been a Father. I even took that away from him. I silently cry and snivel into my duvet, angrily clawing my pillow around my tender head.

There’s a knock on my door. I quickly turn over, back to face my funeral clothes.

“Jen,” Flick utters. “Henry is here to see you.”

I remain still and soundless, listening to him making his way around my bed. I close my eyes, feeling him sit on the mattress next to my legs.

“Jen, your sister is worried about you,” he says in a low tone.

It’s no use him trying to get a reaction from me using guilt. It’s no use him being here at all. I cover my face, unwilling to talk.

“Jen, we all lost someone close this week, and Grayson wouldn’t want this for you.”

I sit up in fury. He can’t come in here and tell me to accept this. He has no right to tell me what to do. They can all go to hell for all I care. Because I don’t care anymore. Just look where caring got me.

His gray brow depresses as he looks down at a big box in his hands. “There is something you need to see,” he takes a laptop from the box and flips up the lid. “This is meant for your eyes only, Jen.”

He places the laptop on my knees and I see Grayson’s face on the screen. I weep. He’s right there, smiling on the balcony of his summerhouse.

“Just press play.” He stands up and leaves me with the box at the bottom of the mattress.

I gaze at the screen through a flood of tears. I take in a lungful of air, and with a shaky finger I press play.

‘Hey Jen. Bet you thought you’d not see me again. So, this is my message to you from beyond the grave,’
he smiles
. ‘I know your secret; you know you can’t kid a kidder.’
He laughs lightly
. ‘I know why you haven’t told me. You’re scared I won’t let go. Well, you did a bang up job of hiding that test in the closet didn’t you?’
he rolls his eyes as I force a smile at him
. ‘So, what you need to know is- you have made me so happy. I will go, knowing you will always have a part of me, Jen,’
he sniffs, holding back the tears
. ‘Now, you listen to me very carefully. You’re going to stop crying, get your ass out of that bed, and be a Mom. You and our baby are going to be happy and live a full life, because that is my legacy. Now, as soon as I’m not going to be around to make the big decisions involving our Son or Daughter,’
he pulls a crumpled piece of paper out from his pocket
. ‘I have chosen names to be considered. For a boy: Grayson Junior… nah, I’m only messing with you,’
he laughs
. ‘Okay, for our son: Jayden,’
he cocks his brow
. ‘And a Daughter: Emily,’
he says
. ‘Of course, these are just suggestions.’
He goes silent with his head down as a tear leaves his eye. I run my finger over it, crying with him
. ‘Jen, until I met you I wasn’t living. You really were my purpose. Thanks to you, my life has been fulfilled and I’m at peace with my fate,’
he inhales
. ‘I’ll always be with you, Jen. Because the love we made in this short time is endless. It knows no boundaries. It has no expiration. So, this is not goodbye, this is just the start of a new chapter for you.’
He stands up and moves the camera close to his face
. ‘Jen, I’ll be watching you from Arrakis,’
he winks playfully.

The screen freezes on his sweet smile. I rest my palm on his images as tears spill onto my arm. I snivel and hold my belly. I do have to do this. I have to, because he wants me to.

I lift the laptop, place it down next to me, and pull the box across the bed. I open the flaps to see a framed photo of Grayson and me outside Maria’s Diner. I laugh while wiping my wet cheek with my wrist. Then I see a large bundle of envelopes. On each is written: First to Twenty-First birthday, all for our baby. It’s the most thoughtful touching thing I’ve ever experienced. Then I notice another envelope, with a set of keys attached. I tear it open and read. He has signed the deeds of his house here, and his summerhouse, over to me and our child. This is too much to think about, when all I want is him back. I put the documents back in the box and shut the flaps. It’s time. Time to say goodbye.

                                                          ***

     Like the day he passed away, the rain falls from the gray sky. A sea of black umbrellas surround the silver casket as he is lowered into the ground. It’s so final, so bleak, and to see him beneath the earth is killing me. Flick holds my shoulders tight as I take my white rose and drop it down onto him. My legs shake and every inch of my body weakens with heartache.

     The vast line of people grows smaller as the grave fills with flowers. I wait, because there are things I need to say to him. The black umbrellas spread away like a slow moving flock of blackbirds, and the ceremony comes to an end.

Flick stays by my side. “Jen,” she whispers.

I turn to her, “I just need to…”

“Okay,” she rubs my arm. “I’ll be waiting with Luke and Henry.”

I stand and gaze into the depths. Winston offers me a sympathetic smile as he is led away by Riley. The raindrops patter on the casket, and the drumming sound becomes deafening. I lower my chin to my chest so my wet hair hangs before me.

“Grayson,” I sniffle. “I don’t know if you can hear me,” my voice fractures. “I want to tell you how much I miss you, and that you have made me see things so differently. I want to thank you… and tell you that… that, I’ll never forget what we had. I love you so much, Grayson.” I cover my face with my wet hands and cry. “Just come back…please.” I wait for his reply. For his ghost to show itself. But nothing comes other than rain.

“Jen… come on,” Henry wraps his arm around me and escorts me toward his car.     

“Mom… Mom!”

“Emily, what on earth are you yelling for?” I bluster into her room to find her flinging tutus, pumps, and leg warmers, over her shoulder from her dressing up box. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find it,” she stresses.

She’s nervous; I can tell. Tonight is a big deal for her. My ten year old baby girl is following in her mom’s footsteps, and has taken dance to her heart. And now she stands before me, dressed in her nude leotard, with her father’s big blues eyes, fretting her tiny heart out.

An emotional bump forms in my throat as the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Every now and then, I can feel that he’s with us. Especially in moments of pride. It’s like this energy we share. I’m connected to him by this paternal tether; the love we both have for our baby girl.

“Mom,” she squeals. “I need to find it!”

She has been planning this for weeks, and I’ve had to move an entire class at my dance studio to accommodate her. She’s kept it all hush-hush, and has choreographed the whole thing herself. Tomorrow, it will be the eleven year anniversary of her father’s death, and she wants to do something especially for him during her dance recital at the Bellview hotel.

Grayson was right when he said he would always be around. Every birthday, Emily has one thing above all she wants most and looks forward to. The letter from her dad. Over the years we’ve laughed, cried, and remembered. He has made sure she knows him well, and that’s why tonight is so important to her.

“The bird Mom, hurry!”

I crouch down to her huge peach dressing up box, and spot it straight away. The tiny cream velvet box that contains a small silver cufflink of a dove. It was Grayson cufflink. I found it when I brought her home from the hospital the day after she was born. It was so surreal, as though it had been purposely placed next to her crib. Now she wears it at every special occasion and performance.

For a time, before Emily came along, my life became ensnared by depression. There were several times during the pregnancy, I nearly ended up on the psych ward. I have Flick and Henry to thank for keeping me half-sane. It was hard to know who I was supposed to be. A grieving woman. An excited expectant mother. A failure once more. But the moment Emily was born, something inside me woke. A light that shone through the darkness. I knew I had to snap out of it, and live my life how Grayson wanted. I worked hard at being a Mom (with a little help) and got my own life on track by opening up my own dance business, which is now booming.

What brings me a sense of peace is the fact that she is so much like him. Stubborn. Knows exactly what she wants and she gets it. But also her kind-heartedness. Her willingness to forget about herself and put others first. She has his dark blonde wavy hair, his striking eyes, and as soon as we met, I was saved. She made me want to accomplish things for us. 

I attach the cufflink to the neck hem of her leotard with a sigh, and she wraps her tiny arms around me.

“Come on Mom,” she tugs my hand to the door. “Don’t wanna be late.”

                                                      ***

     Our seats are reserved right at the front of the great ballroom. Winston and Henry sit, waiting excitedly. Henry has now retired, but remains within our family circle. Old age has gradually caught up with him, and he now relies on an earring-aid, which he hates with a passion. Winston, well, he’s making things up to Grayson by being the greatest Grandfather he can be. He dotes on Emily. Every school, sports, or dance event, he’s there with a front row seat. He no longer sees me as a money grabbing stripper. Now, he treats me with respect and love.    

Flick appears behind me with Luke. Yes that’s right. My troubled little sister, is married, and is expecting her first child on Christmas Eve.

“Sorry we’re late,” she utters, waddling to her seat. “Just stopped off to get some of these,” she waves a bag of pork rind in my face: her pregnancy craving.

The lights dim as the tinkle of piano notes sound. A single spotlight aims onto the stage and my chest fills with a flurry. Emily stands before a prop mirror and dance bar. In the reflection is a white dove, perched on the warmup bar. She’s dancing to: Adagio for Strings, and every pore and hair on my body stands on end.

She talks to the bird, but the bird doesn’t respond, so she begins to dance. She stops, and watches as the bird comes to life. Each move, step, and twirl, she performs beautifully, as I look on with teary eyes.

Henry grabs one of my hands, and Flick the other, as the bird in the glass begins to flutter its wings and glide side to side. She’s dancing her little heart out for her dad, and it’s turning me into an emotional wreak.

The room is so still and soundless as I hold my breath for the finale. The bird breaks through the glass and dances with her on the stage. Then it soars high, until it is out of sight. The lights and music fade.

The silence is suddenly broken by Winston, who ejects from his seat with everyone else. An eruption of cheers roar, as our little girl appears on stage taking a bow. I cry as privately as possible. But it’s impossible for her not to see when she’s purposely searching for me. Unexpected, she scrambles down from the stage and races up into my arms.

“I didn’t want to make you sad Mom,” she says, nestling her head on my shoulder.

I clench her tightly and smile. “Honey… you have made me the proudest, happiest Mom alive,” I kiss her cheek.

“I love you, Mom.”

“You too baby girl.”

The one thing I now know, after that dark grief fades, is that nothing is gone forever. Grayson’s death was the evolution of us all, and what we have become. Each individual he touched, has transformed into his ideals. His death created our path, which he is still very much a part of. He will be in my heart always, waiting for me by Arrakis.

There never is an ending. Endings are only new beginnings.

                           Thanks for reading.