Consequences (13 page)

There she was, her tail raised, and having
fun, circling around a figure as she peeked back at us, trying to
lure Lune to come play once again. But she rippled along the trees
like a film being projected on the scenery rather than a screen.
When the figure that Ursa was circling, moved out of the deeper
shadows, I saw the cat-shaped eyes and long, mahogany hair that
made my heart jump down into my stomach.

Out in the open, neither Ellie nor Ursa
looked like themselves … actually they looked too much like
themselves. Their outlines were too defined, the colors too vivid,
especially for the middle of the night when everything was in
shadow. A gentle wind from nowhere swept the hem of Ellie’s dress,
and ruffled Ursa’s fur. The initial howl was all we heard; now
standing thirty feet in front of us, we couldn’t hear their
footfalls on the dried twigs, or the obvious panting as Ursa ran
around.

Lune was picking up on all these nuances, and
more, letting me know that their smell wasn’t right either. He said
they smelled like ozone drifting on the breeze before a
thunderstorm … intoxicating, but not entirely our girls. When I
asked what he meant, he told me they both smelled like the wind
without pollutants, wild with untouched purity. I can imagine that
is what it smells like when you run, jump, and dance in the spirit
world … free and clean. But Lune explained that was not all he used
to be able to smell, these specters were missing something. The
girls we know and love were special, they carried other scents, too
… in particular, he said, Ellie smelled like me. Ellie wrapped
herself in my odor, carrying a part of me with her ever since we
split in Colorado. Ursa smelled wild from a lifetime of washing her
spirit in nature, with all its incredible spectrum of scents.

I knew then what Lune meant … these were our
untainted visions of the girls. We were the source of this delusion
… the girls weren't actually here.

The two in front of us were just shadows,
ghost images. We didn’t care why they were here … they couldn't
tell us anything. So we sat, and watched their visitation, allowing
our longing to overwhelm any curiosity or fear … and wished we
could make it last. They disappeared with the sunrise, and our
hearts broke through any remaining hope that either of these
apparitions, or their real counterparts, would ever return.

I wanted more. God, I wanted everything back
to the way it was a year ago. Screaming into the trees, “I’m not
running away anymore! I’m not afraid anymore! Why aren’t you coming
back to me?”

Blocking out the pain … I see it's almost
funny, how easy it was to run away from the anguish. I began
denying my imagination, risking more of my sanity … and then
Artemis started coming into my dreams. Comforting me through this
trance, she was taking me home, to my place with Ellie.

Back in the present, back in my Coloradan
dream sanctuary, I realize: I am so stupid, sometimes to get
through the hardest part of life, you have to cut through the
middle, and learn from the pain. Skirting around the outside like a
coward, teaches you nothing. It took this animal, this pup, to
remind me of the declaration I made that night, screaming at the
phantoms in the trees.

At four months old, Artemis’s head is about
mid-thigh height; she is easily fifty pounds, and her paw prints
are already almost as big as my outstretched fingers. Michael is
sure she’ll easily reach over my shoulders when she stands upright,
by the time she hits a year old. He said, one of the largest wolves
he’d ever seen was about 175 pounds and six feet six inches from
nose to tail tip … Artemis will be close to that size, beyond a
doubt. Placing my hand on her head and feeling the velvet of the
fur between her ears, I can’t see her as anything, but a gentle
puppy. Part of my mind knows that she’s dominant and commanding in
ways I’m only starting to understand, but no description of her
power comes from her size. She strides comfortably in my sleeping
mind, with more ease than even Ellie, or James … as if she was made
solely to walk in the mist of my dreamscape.

After she leads me through the Gothic forest,
we walk across the valley base towards the waterfall and stream.
She knows her way around this forest as if she was born here.
Tilting her head back she howls to the tops of the aspens … she is
letting someone know we are here. Moments later, materializing next
to her is Ellie, not the shadow of a replication that I held onto
for the past year, but the real thing …

“Ellie? You’re here? Are you really here?
It’s been so long … after you left Colorado … I’ve been losing my
mind without you.” I am whispering as I admit to myself that I have
been hallucinating, imagining her presence for so long. Somewhere
within the forest, my legion of voices starts laughing cruelly at
my exposure; as I finally owned up to my delusions.

Ignoring them, I yell excitedly “You’re
here!"

I run and take her in my arms, feeling her,
and knowing she is real. My mind begging for her to stay long
enough, for me to remember how she smells. Tears fall silently down
her cheeks, and she moves her lips, but no sound comes out. I
wonder if she can hear me.

I pull her up into my arms, crushing my
broken heart between us, and breathe her in. Closing my eyes to
revel in her company, I selfishly press my lips to hers. I want
every one of my senses filled with her. I still can’t hear her, but
that doesn’t matter … she is here with me, and I have to make it
last.

When she starts fading this time, I hold on
to her. I am not going to let her go … not without trying to hold
her here with me. I let her go in Colorado. I don’t care if I am
acting like a child throwing a temper tantrum; I am not going to
let her leave. She isn’t ever going to have to wonder why I let her
go without a fight before … an act, a stupid attempt at being
mature.

This time I'm going to make sure she knows I
want her back, and through my actions she will never doubt how much
I love her.

“I know you can't hear me … but I need you to
understand. I’m buried in your absence, it’s killing me to try and
live without you. I tried to keep them out, but they won. I’m
afraid of what I became with them … and if that is who I really am.
This is killing me, not having you here … I’m broken.” The
confusion in her eyes confirms that didn't hear a word I said.
Whispering the words trapped in my throat, “I’m begging you to stay
with me … please.”

I watch as the words form on her lips ‘I love
you. No matter what, remember I’m part of you, and I love you’. She
speaks slowly, articulating each word to make sure I understand. I
nod to show that I do. Then she kisses me with such vigor, I am
sure the starvation in our touch is going to crush us both. All of
a sudden the realization hits me … she is squeezing as much as
possible out of this visit, because she knows it won’t last
long.

I put my hands on the sides of her face and
look into her gold-flecked eyes. Searching my mind at an incredible
pace … I have to think of what I can tell her.

Without listening to my head, I let my heart
speak, “I love you, I miss you … I will find you!”

I pull her in closer and gently lay my lips
on hers. I am not going to close my eyes, not this time … I watch
her melt into the kiss, then melt from my dream.

When she disappears, I slide to the ground
and curl into a ball. I can feel the heat on my cheeks, not from my
pitiful display, but from my tears. All my muscles burn from trying
to hold her, not relaxing even after she left; they are starting to
cramp. Artemis lies beside me; she starts to clean my face, but
then decide I need her warmth more. She curls up next to me and I
focus on the texture of her fur and the rhythm of her breathing,
until I close my eyes and slide into a dreamless sleep.

I have stopped by Christopher’s place two
nights ago, but no one answered when I knocked. At the time, I only
heard one set of claws running across the floor, and although I
thought it was strange that Christopher would leave either dog home
alone, I decided to leave well enough alone and head back to my
place. After working the late shift last night, checking on a few
questionable camp sites, I decided to head home to my bed. Now
standing outside Christopher’s front door again, I can’t help but
feel like something is wrong. When I knock, I hear the familiar
scampering claws then an urgent howl, and gibberish whining that
can only be Lune.

Taking out my spare key, I decide to
investigate. My heart starts to race, and my hands begin to shake …
you would think I am heading into a room of armed militia. But
given Christopher’s past and his possible ‘visitors’, I am both
nervous and excited to find out what is going on.

I try turning on the lights, but apparently
Christopher let the batteries run too low … that is not like him.
Lune runs from me to Christopher’s room, to his and Artemis’s food
and water dishes, and then back to me. Watching him repeat, the
trip around the cabin three or four times, I feel like asking this
imaginary Lassie, if Christopher is trapped in the well? Following
him over to Christopher’s bedroom, I chuckle nervously under my
breath.

Opening the door a little farther so I can
look inside, the first thing I see is Artemis’s white paws. Looking
over the top of the bed I realize they are asleep, both of them
curled up and snoring. By the looks of the room, and the lack of
food and water, I think they must have been sleeping for at least
the past two nights. Every alarm sounds in my head, screaming that
this is an emergency situation. Remembering that he and Artemis
have gone into a trance like this before, I try to calm down. They
are breathing fine, and whatever spell they are under, neither of
them looks dehydrated or in pain.

Leaving them, I walk outside to start up the
generator; and while trying to stay composed, I walk back in the
cabin. First things first, I pick up the dogs’ water dishes and
carry them into the kitchen. Then I pull out a large pan and fill
them all with water from the tap. Returning with the dogs’ bowls, I
pour food into Lune’s dish. Then, with the last pan of water in
hand, I walk into the bedroom and proceed to pour the whole thing
over Christopher’s and Artemis’s heads.

Christopher sucked in a stuttered breath and
yelled, “What in the hell!”

Artemis looks up at me and wags her tail with
a sodden thump, thump. I lose my composure and start laughing so
hard, I have to sit down. She crawls down into my lap, making sure
to wipe her face and back across my face and chest. Seeing the
innocent expression in her eyes as she soaks me in return, makes me
laugh that much harder, until I start crying.

“I bet you’re hungry.” She turns, and true to
her gentle nature, she licks me to let me know she is in fact very
hungry.

“Come on. Let’s see if Lune left you anything
to eat.”

Looking down at the bed, trying to hold a
straight face, I say, “Hey, man, you may want to take the sheets
off the bed before the water soaks into the mattress.” Christopher
gets up and mumbles something about my mother and mysterious
origins of my biological father.

Smirking I add, “I’ll take care of the food,
while you get cleaned up. Man, you reek.”

I watch him angrily pull all the covers off
his mattress; and then with a huge smile on my face, I walk into
the living room and fill Artemis’s food dish. She clears her bowl
quickly, and then races for the front door where Lune is already
waiting patiently to go outside. I watch them sprint across the
space separating the cabin from the line of trees. Lean and fierce,
they are truly magnificent as they bound with long, determined
strides. I imagine what it would be like to see that sight coming
head long at you, ears back, eyes bright with wit, the flash of
fangs … they are threatening as hell.

Even though it is already five at night, I
decide to make breakfast. Looking through the fridge and cupboards,
I find all the ingredients for a batch of omelets. The eggs are
slowly cooking, and as I am finishing up chopping the rest of the
ingredients into small pieces, Christopher walks in clean and
dressed in fresh clothes. I am trying not to smirk while I
nonchalantly layer cheese, meat and veggies on the eggs. I fold the
eggs over the top of the fillings, then scatter another layer of
cheese, and cover it to give it time to heat through and melt.

Christopher breaks the silence, and wipes the
smirk from my face, all in one statement. “I think I’ve lost my
mind.”

“What?”

“I’ve been imagining her … Ellie, I mean. No,
not the Ellie in Colorado ... but the Ellie I’ve been with since
Vegas.” His eyes are cast down at the table as he sits.

“Wait a minute … I’ve seen you react to her.
I thought, maybe, I might have felt her.”

Bitterly he replies, “Ha, guess that shows
just how deeply I convinced myself she was here, if I made you
believe it, too.”

“I don’t understand … I know you love her,
but why would your mind-trick you into believing she was here, and
then show you … you were actually hallucinating the whole
thing?”

“I don’t think my mind had anything to do
with it … Artemis showed me. She’s somehow linked to the ethereal
mist, and she called Ellie from it. In my dreams, Artemis came to
me; she led me to my sanctuary, from when I was growing up … I
think I told you about it: the forest outside of Gothic, in
Colorado. That was the place I would meet Ellie … our place. I
don’t know how Artemis knew about it, how she negotiated through
it, or how she called Ellie. But, I do know that she called Ellie
to me. And apparently, there was enough of my mind intact to
recognize the person who met us was the real Ellie.” He doesn’t
look up from the table as he speaks.