Unison (The Spheral) (39 page)

Michael threw the stick in frustration. “I don’t want to visit, I want to stay.”

“It’s a start. If you want to study in New Athenia, you must stop running out of the room whenever you don’t get your way. Your mother needs to see you’re mature enough to be on your own.”

“How? She won’t even listen to me.”

“She will…if you tell her what you want without yelling or attacking her for disagreeing with you.”

“I’ll try, but it won’t do any good.”

“It’ll get me to take you seriously and recommend you to the conservatory.”

“How are you going to get me in? You don’t live there.”

“Do what I ask, and I’ll make it happen for you.”

Michael sprung off the tree trunk. “I’m finally going to leave Littlefield!”

“And see the world is bigger than you imagined.”

“This year is going to move so slowly.”

“Slower is better. You’ll miss what you have here once you’re gone.”

“I’ll never miss this place. Can’t wait to leave.”

“Lose that attitude before next year. I won’t take you if you and your mother can’t reach an agreement about your future.”

“Why?”

“If anything happens to her while you’re gone, you won’t have another chance to tell her how you feel. Better to leave with nothing left to be said.”

The following summer I returned to Littlefield and was troubled when I found the gate wide open. I entered the circle and met a silence that’s forever burned into my memory. Tranquil time was never this quiet. Shisa ran ahead of me and exited through the rear gate which also had been left ajar.

The door of Wilfrid’s bungalow was left open. Inside, all the tables and chairs were overturned, and his cards were splattered across the floor. The ace of spades—which was face up—symbolized death when accompanied by a ten and nine. I was relieved when neither card was visible and shocked I had such a reaction. I used to tease Wilfrid about his superstitions. There was a ritual for every activity in Littlefield, and he began each Firstday by leading a prayer service. During my stays in Littlefield, I slept late on those days. Wilfrid took no umbrage because he believed I would one day learn
the truth
. By leaving me alone, he surmised I’d feel self-conscious about my lack of faith and join his worship club. I kept silent as I didn’t want to tell him the only truth worthy of accepting was one I could discover on my own.

I inspected the rest of the bungalows, which were in similar condition to Wilfrid’s. Shisa’s barks pulled me back outside, and the tone in her voice made my heart pound. The last time she barked like that was when I found Flora unconscious at the bottom of the ridge.

I exited the rear gate and found Shisa pacing outside the pig pen, whimpering as she had when I performed the sacred burning for Old Woman. Inside the pen were the remains of the villagers, huddled together as though shielding themselves from an aggressor. I stood paralyzed with my gaze unfixed and my senses clouded. Everything I observed appeared artificial. The decayed bodies seemed more like a display in a museum; a sculpture of death left behind to tell the story of an extinct people. Every passerby would have their own interpretation of what happened. I had none—not even a passing thought.

As I journeyed beyond Littlefield and into the nearby forest, the environment seemed equally illusory. Towering trees screened me from the mist of rain that began to fall. The water droplets bouncing off the leaves had a hypnotic effect, and I continued my walk devoid of conscious thought. Besides the splatter of rain, there was an eerie silence. I couldn’t hear a bird or even my own heart beating.
Am I as dead as my friends?
Even Shisa seemed bewitched by the scenery. She walked silently, trailing a few meters behind me. I trembled over how easily the senses could be fooled, and I again questioned whether I was dead or in reintegration. To keep from deluding myself, I doubted everything—including my senses. Everything I analyzed was merely a subjective perception of my brain, and I used to trust that what it told me was real, but I gave up on trust many incarnations ago. All I knew for certain was Wilfrid, Genevieve and Michael, who accepted me as part of their family, were now gone. I was alone again.

STATIC SKY

T
he carnage in Littlefield still seemed unreal. Either I was in denial or my awareness of previous incarnations desensitized me from my emotions. With no scheduled transport for another four weeks, I decided to lose myself in New Athenia. In the first week, I kept to myself and spent most of my hours at the park feeding the ducks. I came out of my self-imposed isolation after an elderly woman sat next to me.

“I knew it,” she said after Gadfly snatched a piece of bread from my hand. “You’re the bird man.”

I turned to her and raised a brow.

“There’s much talk about you.”

“What kind of talk?”

“They say you come here every day and sit on this bench without saying a word to anyone…except to the ducks that flock around you.”

“An exaggeration. Only Gadfly comes to me.”

“Gadfly?”

I pointed to my feathered pal as he waddled over to the pond.

“How can you tell him apart from the rest of the ducks?”

I pointed at my eyes. “He’s the only one that stares directly at me.”

“What if another duck starts to do the same thing?”

I smiled. “Gadfly has an area on his left outer wing where no feathers grow.”

The woman laughed. “You almost had me fooled.” She looked at Shisa. “Is that your dog?”

“Shisa doesn’t belong to anyone.” I stared out into the pond. “And I don’t belong anywhere.”

“Lately I feel as though I don’t belong anywhere. My children are all grown, and the only time they visit is when they want me to watch their kids.”

“Don’t you like to spend time with your grandchildren?”

“Of course, I do…but I wish they’d invite me over to talk over a cup of coffee. I don’t see how that’s a lot to ask for.” She sighed. “Children are dependent on you when they’re young, and when they grow up, you’re either an afterthought or a caretaker for the grandchildren. When I’m not needed, I don’t even get a call to ask how I’m doing.”

She cried, and I held her hand. “I suppose I should be grateful for the times I’m needed.” We sat together until her grandchildren showed up for a picnic. The woman’s face lit up when she saw them. She invited me along, but I declined the offer. A happy family interaction would have reminded me of what I lost, and I preferred my emotions to remain hidden.

I contacted Lidian after eight days in New Athenia. He welcomed me back to his home without bringing up my odious behavior. Holly gave birth to a baby girl named Katerina, who was now nearly in her second year. Even though some time had passed since my drunken outburst, it took Holly a while to warm up to me. During my first few visits, she’d either lock herself in her room with the baby or be out with friends. Her absence allowed me to distance myself from our previous life together, along with my memories of Aaron and James.

During the remainder of my stay, Lidian and I talked, played backgammon, and drank generous portions of alcohol on the balcony.

“This is getting to be too easy. Are you sure you’re not letting me win?” Lidian asked as he removed his last chip from the board. “That makes three out of three. How about another round?”

“Better quit before my ego cracks beyond repair.”

Lidian pointed his finger at me. “Your ego, Damon, is one of the most indestructible specimens I encountered in Unity.”

“And it was nearly demolished by three rounds of backgammon.”

“You could easily rebuild it with music.” Lidian swept the chips off the board. “You should stop by and hear us play before leaving. Maybe it will inspire you to join us.”

“I played for Manolis yesterday. I needed to break in my new violin.”

“Why don’t you make your chair a permanent home? You’ll be happier playing with the orchestra than living alone in the woods, helping Unitians cross the old tunnel so they could enjoy the life you deserve.” Lidian picked up a carafe and filled my glass with wine.

“I’ve grown accustomed to being alone.” I took a sip of the wine.

“If the situation were reversed, no Unitian would help you.”

“I’m not doing this for them.”

Holly came out of hiding and sat beside Lidian. “He’s had a hard time forgetting Unity.”

“I still have dreams, where I wake up in the morning and think I’m still living there.”

“Thought I was the only one,” I said.

“I put in so much effort to be accepted by the Corporate Hierarchy until I woke up one morning and realized if I succeeded, I’d have to keep bowing to someone until I died. Just thinking about that scared me into stopping. After that, everyone treated me worse than an Outsider, except for Master Tyrus. He asked me to leave with him shortly afterwards.”

I raised my glass, recalling a similar revelation I had while out at sea with Wade. “To Master Tyrus. If only he were around to influence me when I arrived at my own crossroads.”

“But you eventually stopped bowing,” Lidian said as we toasted.

“A little too late.” I sipped my wine.

“You’ll survive what happened.” Holly reached across the table and placed her hand on top of mine. “And you’ll be stronger for it.”

Her tenderhearted response added to my pain. I was pleased she found happiness with Lidian, but a part of me still thought of Holly as my wife. Along with my confused timelines, the massacre at Littlefield and everyone else I lost surged in my head. I excused myself and went for a walk on the top level of the labyrinth. After my racing mind eased, I stopped at the scenic park to view the Acropolis. My self-pity seemed superficial whenever I gazed upon the Ancient masterpiece that loomed overhead. This night was no different, and it brought to the surface what had been bothering me for many lifetimes. In Unity, we lost the pride of human vision and ingenuity. We sedated ourselves with conveniences and forgot the meaning of inspiration. I wanted it for myself, so I could feel fulfilled from within. I wanted it so badly that I wept as I looked upon the majestic columns of the Parthenon. If the goddess Athena existed, I would’ve prayed for her to impart her wisdom on me.