I lay in my bed staring at the
ceiling. A chill ran up my body; I
looked down and noticed I was still naked.
I wasn’t embarrassed. Last night
had been pleasant. Well, more than
pleasant. As I glanced around and saw
all my clothes in crumpled piles spread across the floor like petals of a dying
rose, I recounted the ordeal in my mind, pulling the covers over my breasts,
not bothering to find where the draft had come from. I closed my eyes against the morning light
that spilled, little by little, though the window and across the floor and bed,
bending against the contours of the room.
This
man… wait, stop. This was not any
ordinary man. His name was Ankou and from
the moment I saw him I knew, deep down, that he was different. I had been out at a nightclub months ago with
my girlfriends when we met. I spotted
him across the room. Too far away to
accidentally run into, so I decided to merely study him from afar. Tall and slender with long black hair,
slicked back. Tall and slender: yes
please, but the hair I wasn’t so sure about.
My eyes passed that up and floated over his face. Light skin, light eyes, big nose. So sue me, I like a big schnoz. In the matter of the few seconds it took me
to take in the rudimentary features of his face, his eyes darted up and looked
straight into mine. Light green, like
sea foam, with a gleam of mischief. A
small smile twitched at one corner of his mouth and I looked down at my hands,
embarrassed.
Before
long I had forgotten about the tall stranger across the room and my girls had
sucked me back out onto the dance floor, not before pouring another shot of
Rumple Mintz down my hatch. Not that I
tried to fight off the abundance of libations flowing that night. I loved the release I got when going crazy
with my girls, the laughs we’d share, and how when the room would spin slightly
I felt completely free, like God had let my soul out of its cage and I could
watch myself live from on high.
As
we were putting on our coats, preparing to walk down the block to the next bar
(that apparently had 2-for-1’s until 2am for ladies) I noticed something in the
arm of mine. I frowned a bit,
confused. I had already tugged out the
scarf I had shoved down the arm, so what else could it be? It wasn’t soft, that’s for sure, so even in
my inebriated state it didn’t make sense.
I pulled out my arm, the crumpled up bar napkin in hand.
Shock
sucked the wind out of me. A note was
scribbled on it in hurried yet neat handwriting, obviously a man’s by the
look. It was short but to the point: “Hey twirling girl – I saw you looking at
me. You’re cute. Call me. (555) 534-7894 –Ankou! <3”
Yes,
exclamation point, little doodle of a heart, and all.
What
in the…?
I
felt the heat of embarrassment fill my cheeks again and I shot my head up. With exaggerated movements (I’m inferring
this, but I was drunk, so it probably was greatly exaggerated), I began to look
around the room. This guy, this Ankou, had noticed me, yes, I knew that
much. But he felt something, like he
could read the words behind my eyes that said in all caps I THINK YOU’RE
ATTRACTIVE and decided to make a move.
Not only that, but he came up, touched my coat, scribbled out a note to me, and shoved it in the arm of my coat
where he knew I’d find it. Where was this guy from? How did he… what did he… ?
“Nellie! What are you doing over there, girl? We’re about to walk out the door!” That was my bestie, Ruth. She was hanging on the shoulders of my other
female companions and laughing her butt off.
It didn’t take me long to realize at what. I was holding the note out in front of me in
both hands and my mouth was agape like a cartoon character. You know, the ones where their jaw literally
hits the floor. I shut my mouth with a
snap.
“I
just… okay, I’ll be there in a second.”
I shoved the note in my pocket.
Luckily for me Ruth forgot about it for the rest of the night, my
ridiculous facial expression and all (though she didn’t miss a beat and had
snapped a keepsake on her iphone), but I didn’t forget. In a way… I was a little creeped out. I kept feeling like he was watching me
still. Like he was stalking my group and
hiding behind telephone poles or concrete pillars every time I turned
around. Complete rubbish. All entirely in my drunken imagination.
As
the night wore on and the alcohol wore off, I realized what he had done, what
Ankou had done, was incredibly well played.
Crazy romantic, I had to admit it.
I crashed on Ruth’s couch that night, and Ankou’s green eyes kept
swimming past my vision. I’d pick up my
phone but decide against calling. I’d
rationalize that he had been drunk and he didn’t mean what he said in the note, or it was just so late why
would he want to hear from me? I set down
my phone. Like light through water, the vision would flash in front of my closed eyes again and I’d
instinctively pick up my phone, just to set it down again.
Sobbering
up, I picked up my phone and came up with a great idea. I’d text him.
Yes! The passive person’s way of
connecting. Genius! I tapped in his number, let out a deep breath
(reminding myself that sending this message was not the end of the world or a
mistake of any sort) and plunked in the following message: “Twirling girl at
your service! Thank you for the note!”
I
pressed send before I could think twice about it. Snow now flailing outside, I pressed my smiling
lips together tensely and hid my face in my hands.
I
was beginning to drift into sleep when my phone tweeted at me. My eyes burst open and I lifted my hand to my
face, cell phone still pressed firmly in my palm. My stomach felt sick as I realized the
message was from Ankou. Who else would
text me at 4am besides Ruth, who was sound asleep (and snoring) in the next
room? I swallowed hard and opened the
message. “I was hoping you’d reply,” was
all it said.
I
collapsed in a round of giggles to rival that of a teenaged girl. This complete stranger, so beautiful, so perfect, was hoping that I would reply to his cute and mysterious
note. Had I fallen asleep and this was
all a dream? I lightly smacked myself in
the face. The cold fingers that struck
my warm cheek hurt and I turned my head against the force. This was no dream.
I
texted back in a flurry of keystrokes. “I’m
Nellie… Why me?” I pressed send and
hoped he get that I was trying to flirt.
I immediately regretted the message, wishing I could amend it. Too late now.
Moments
later: “Nellie, beautiful name. You because I could feel your flame.”
My
breath was forced from my lungs. He felt
it too, but how? He’s just playing me,
isn’t he? Just like every other guy I’ve
let in my life. A wave of anger surged
in my chest and I sighed harshly. Why
me? Do I have a sign on my back that
says ‘Kick me’? Or better yet, a stamp
on my forehead that says ‘Easy’?
Wait a minute, lady, slow down. That was my less angry, rational side
talking. Hey, there, why don’t you give this guy a break? You haven’t even spoken to him and you’re
judging him already? Shame on you.
Oh,
shut up, rational bitch. I hate
you.
But
as usual, she was right. I can’t just
project my insecurities onto Ankou. I
didn’t know him, how did I know he’d turn out just like the rest? There’s always the possibility… but on the
flip side of that same coin, there was always another possibility, however
slight, that he wasn’t out to take advantage of me. Was I willing to risk it, though? After all I’d been through with men?
I
sighed again and rolled over on the couch, the screen of my iPhone lighting up
my face. I wrote back, “I could feel
your flame, too.”
“This
might be sudden,” an immediate message from Ankou said before I could close my
messages screen. “But do you wanna go to
the Uptown Diner for breakfast?”
See, I told you, my rational side gloated, and I couldn’t help but agree. I had to
give him a chance. And what did it hurt,
anyway, to be seen in public with such a beautiful specimen of a man? “I would love that,” I replied.
I
snuck out of Ruth’s house, left her a note on the kitchen table with a big
smiley face drawn on it, and arrived at the diner at 5:30am. It felt weird being up that early, but then
again, I hadn’t really gone to sleep.
Feeling
a little sick from all the shots I had had only a couple hours previously, I
licked my lips, wishing I had a bottle of water. I hadn’t planned this out, had I? Cottonmouth, upset stomach, cracked lips… I
was the absolute definition of sexy.
I
got out of my car, entering the cold early morning air, a plume of mist
floating from my mouth in the 14 degree air.
My feet creaked against the snow.
I sunk my face further into my scarf when I noticed him walking towards
me, in a thin jacket. My first thought,
besides, “God damn he’s pretty,” was, “How in the world is he not freezing to
death?”
“Twirling
girl,” he said and nodded coolly. His
voice was a medium baritone and rung out with a heedless confidence. He thrust out his hand.
I
shyly smirked and put my mitten covered hand in his with a light thud from the
dense wool hitting his skin. “Across-the-room
guy,” I said and cringed as soon as the words left my lips. Across-the-room guy? Really?
That’s the most clever thing you could come up with? You are a real piece of work, lady.
He
laughed anyway. I couldn’t tell if it
was genuine or if he was just humoring me.
Either way, I almost melted at the sound of it despite the artic
temperature. “Nellie, you ravishing
thing. Do you mind if I hug you?”
Before
I could answer I was in his arms, my face squished against his pec. As I breathed in, a soothing and warm odor
filled my nose. Whatever he had
slathered himself in, it was intoxicating.
I had a time of it as I attempted to move my lips to say, muffled by his
thin leather jacket, “I don’t mind.”
I
know the embrace only lasted ten seconds at most, but it felt incredibly
prolonged. Next thing I knew, he had backed
up from the embrace, holding me by both shoulders. I opened my eyes to find him looking intently
at me. He laughed under this breath as
he continued, “I’m kinda huggie. As in I like
to hug, not a disposable diaper.”
I
covered my mouth as a belly laugh escaped my lips. Wow,
I’m making myself out to be a super attractive woman right now. However, I noticed a change in this face
as I uncontrollably laughed at his joke.
First, his features seemed to soften and, second, he seemed to
relax. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I tried to soften, too. At the same time, I attempted to put the negative
thoughts out of my head. After all, if I
had thought he was really a threat,
would I have come to this diner at 5:30 in the morning?
“It’s
okay,” I admitted. “I think people who
like to hug are more in tune with who they really are.”
“Wow,
that’s deep, my pretty Nellie.”
I
giggled. “Well, you know what they say…
Look deep into human nature and you’ll understand everything better.” In that instant I noticed his hands were
still firmly planted on my shoulders.
His eyes had never left mine.
“A
deep quote about being deep?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He let his hands fall from me then and
started to walk towards the restaurant.
I followed him. “I can’t top that.”
“I’m
sure you can.” I felt like a dwarf
walking next to him. He had to have been
at least 6’2” and I was a mere 5’1”.
“Tell me one thing about yourself that is mind-blowingly amazing.”
He
stopped by the front door and pulled it open.
He waved me through. “One
thing? What if everything about me is amazing?”
I
bit my lip. I wanted desperately to
confirm that, yes, everything is amazing about you, Ankou, now take me now on
this countertop. But I stopped short of
looking like the undersexed geek that I was.
Instead I spurt out, “Pick the one that overshadows the rest.”
The
waitress escorted us to our table in a rather packed restaurant (considering it
was the butt crack of dawn on a Sunday morning) as Ankou thought about it. We sat across from each other and his eyes
were scanning the room in thought, fingers weaved and perched on the tabletop.
His
eyes racheted down with a new glint in them as he said in all seriousness,
“Robot Unicorn Attack. I’m really,
really good at playing Robot Unicorn Attack.”
I
stifled a laugh as I squeaked, “Oh, really?”
“Yes,
but that’s not the most amazing thing about me.
Honestly, I think it’s my ability to read people. I’m good at knowing when people are in need
of assistance, or just a hug, or a shoulder to cry on. I can also tell when people are complete
jerkoffs and I avoid them like the plague.
I hate to leave them as someone else’s problem, but I don’t need them
dirtying up my mojo.”
My
laugh evaporated and I raised my eyebrows.
“Wow, that is good. So, it’s just
an uncanny thing? Like it’s never failed
you?”
“Never. That’s not to say I haven’t made mistakes or
been hurt by other people. But… as I get
older,” he winked at me then and I wondered fleetingly how old he actually was,
“the better I get at it.”
“Is…
is that why you decided to write that note to me?” My voice was soft because I was usually not so
bold as to ask a stranger something of that nature, but I couldn’t help it. Some people claim to have an innate ability
to read people, but the way Ankou described it, it was almost like he could literally
see the character of a person just by looking at them. “I’m sorry if that’s too much…”
“No,
not at all. By all means, ask
away.” His smile comforted me. “And yes, that is why I wrote you the note.” He sipped some water from the cup sat in front
of him as he went on. I tried not to
jump with excitement. “I could feel your
eyes on me, just as I can with most people, but I couldn’t control the fact that I had to look into them. Your eyes on me was like…” he closed his
eyes, searching for the right word, “…hot coals grazing my skin, singeing the
hairs.” He noticed the look of concern
on my face as I sat up straighter, and he sniggered. “No, not in a bad way. Like in a ‘you have to see this’ kind of
way. So, I looked up. And when I saw your eyes, I could tell I had
to meet you. Your soul is so… pure. I felt like when our eyes met… I felt as if a
lock snapped in place.”
“And
you thought I was being deep,” I
whispered. Now my reservations about
meeting him made sense. I had read somewhere
that when someone is a savant, or has psychic powers, or is special in some
other way, telekinesis or whatever, someone with keen observational powers
can sense something ‘off’ about them. I
hate to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty keen, and those strange eyes, containing
an entire rolling sea seemed to throw me.
“You
think I’m weird now, don’t you?”
“No,
god, not at all.” I leaned back in towards
the table, relaxing my rigid stance. “I
think it’s awesome.”
“But
weird awesome, right?” He flicked his eyebrows
up and down comically. A mug of coffee
had magically appeared in front of me and I picked it up to warm my hands.
“Weird
awesome, yes.” I sipped it and reveled
in the warmth traveling down my torso.
“I am also weird awesome, though, so…”
“I
know.”
“You
can read minds, too, can’t you?” I said
it jokingly, but he instantly averted his gaze and shifted in his seat. I lowered my voice. “…You can?”
He
ran his hand through his raven hair and when his eyes met mine again a grain of
sadness rang through. His jaw tightened. “Yes.”
I
hated that I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, but what does one say
when you out someone as psychic unintentionally? The awkward pause that followed was painful,
but I made a consorted effort to keep my eyes on his, to let him know that I
wasn’t afraid and I wouldn’t leave him in such a vulnerable state. I hadn’t expected him to actually have psychic
abilities, but it did make more sense how he could ‘read’ people just by
looking at them. He could see their
inner most feelings and thoughts.
Including mine. I choked, “I
didn’t mean…”
“Stop.” He held up a hand and I closed my lips. When his hand fell it landed on mine. I let it stay there. “You don’t have to apologize. I should have known from the way it felt to
see your thoughts that you’d be able to tell.”
From
the way he described it, the encounter he had with me at the club did sound a
bit out of the ordinary. But I couldn’t
help but ask, “Oh, really? How?”
“What,
you didn’t know? It felt like when I
looked into your mind, you could look back into mine. I have never
met anyone whose mind's eye could look back at mine.” He moved his other hand and covered my hand
with both of his now. “Do you understand
what I’m trying to say?”
I
did, but I didn’t want to believe it. I
cringed a bit and pulled my eyes away from his.
I wasn’t sure why, but tears started to build at the corners of my eyes,
a heat rising from my body. Ankou shook
his head.
“Nellie,
don’t be upset. It can be a bit of a
burden, but it really is a gift. I can
teach you.” He squeezed my hand but I
had no strength to acknowledge it.
“Nellie?”
Several
times in my life flashed before my eyes.
My earliest memory of something I viewed as 'different' came first: I knew about
my grandfather’s death before anyone told me about it. It was like I felt a ripple effect in the
earth’s ether, and when it reached me, my mind said bluntly, “Grandpa died this
morning.” I was ten years old. Other strange things had happened that I
brushed off as nothing, such as knowing the answers to tests I barely studied
for, or knowing what my mom thought of my high school boyfriends without her
even opening her mouth. It happened
again with 9/11. I clocked in at work
and something just felt off in general.
I could think of nothing but crashing airplanes all morning, and when my
coworkers and I heard the news on the radio, all I could think was, No, it can’t be true, it just CAN’T be true! My dad’s death was the same way, as well as
my aunt’s passing away. It’s like the important
things in my personal history I could foresee, but I knew, and told myself often, that some people just had
a stronger sense of self and community that way, and I figured I was just one
of those people. What Ankou said threw
all my benign theories out the window, and it was hard to accept that. Not because it was unbelievable, but because
it made everything more real. It made my life seem… wasted. Like the people I had told about this weird
ability to see the future were trying to keep me down, to dumb me down, to keep
me from knowing who I really was.
Mind
racing, I finally squeezed Ankou’s hand in return. He pursed his lips, suppressing smile. I wasn’t sure how I felt, but I had to say something. “I’m not angry. I’m just…”
“Shocked.” He flashed his teeth to me radiantly and I
closed my eyes and let my lips turn up at the corners. A tear ran down my cheek. The universe was a complex thing, and humans
even more complex than that, but that conversation with Ankou at the diner was
the catalyst to those strange and wonderful things in my life making a bit more sense.
Copyright © 2013 by Erin M. Truesdale
