by Maya Daniels
“It’ll be okay, Al. I’ll do all the talking. You just need to explain the theory of what the project is all about. I’m sure he won’t even understand a word of what you say, but I’ve seen you talk about your work. You have a passion for it so strong that even I agreed to start this nonsense before thinking how costly it would be for the company, or about the fact that we’ll never reach the finish line,” Philip says, thinking he’ll put me at ease because he knows I don’t like to be around people much. I don’t pay attention to the rest of his words because I’m fuming instantly.
“You think my work is useless?” I say so loudly that a couple of people turn around to look at us.
He grabs my elbow and leads me towards a corner. “Don’t raise your voice like that! The investor might be here. I don’t know what he looks like,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “What I think is not important. What’s important is that you believe in your work, and the only way for you to keep your job and keep doing what you’re doing is to get this person to believe in you so he gives us the money for it. Understand?”
“First of all, it’s not nonsense. I have already proven that the electromagnetic field of the planet syncs with the frequency emitted by the human heart, Mr. Stamelos. It took years of research, and I will not stand here and let you belittle my work,” I fire back at him.
He starts laughing, which makes me want to slap him again. Why is this man getting to me so easily? I keep asking myself.
“Okay! Okay!” He lifts both hands up like he is surrendering while I’m holding a gun pointed at his chest.
“I should’ve phrased it differently. I was trying to make you relax. Not many people understand it, you know, so to us, it sounds like a science fiction novel. The only thing I can tell you is that your passion and commitment to your work could convince a mother to sell her child. You’re that good at making someone believe it to be true,” he says, smiling sweetly. Watching his boyish attempt to look cute and shut me up, I can’t help but smile, which I regret the next second because his smile disappears, his eyes turn guarded, and he takes a step back from me. What the hell is wrong with this guy? I want to scream but I turn towards the door so I don’t have to look at him anymore. He and his mood swings are not my problem.
“Your table is ready, Mr. Stamelos,” the hostess calls out, and as we both approach her, she gives me a quick perusal from the top of my head to my feet. Dismissing me, she gives Philip her biggest smile. “You and your wife can follow me?” she says it as a question and waits, still looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. I roll my eyes.
“I’m not his wife, and we have a business meeting, so if you don’t mind?” I gesture with my hand towards the inside of the restaurant.
“Oh, I’m sorry. How rude of me to assume,” she says breathlessly and starts walking in front of us. If I ever try to walk like that, I will end up at the ER with a dislocated hip. I chuckle inside my head.
Following her, I pass Philip, who’s giving me a look that says I’ve lost my mind. And who knows? After everything—especially today—I may start thinking the same thing. As we approach the table, I can see an elderly gentleman in his mid-sixties talking on his phone. He’s gesturing with his hand and I almost laugh out loud. He looks like he’s directing an orchestra. What the hell is wrong with me today? I need those pills and I better remember to grab them from my car when we get back to the office. The investor hangs up the phone just as the hostess spins around and steps around me, moving past Philip and brushing her body against him, but I have no time to think why that bothers me because the person sitting at our table goes pale while staring at me wide-eyed, and I’m scared that he is having a heart attack.
“Philip! Water!” I walk around to try and help the man. Help him how, I have no idea, but I have to do something.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong, sir, can you tell me?” I can hear the panic in my voice, and as if that helps him, he looks into my eyes like he is searching for something. “Sir?”
The color slowly comes back to his face just as Philip reappears, holding a glass of water while talking on his phone. He says, “No, no, it’s okay. He looks like he’s better now. Let me ask.” He looks at the investor. “Would you like the ambulance to come and check you over?”
“I don’t need an ambulance. I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” He may say he’s fine, but his eyes aren’t on Philip when he does. They are staring at me so intently that I squirm in discomfort. Glancing at him, he is definitely in good shape for his age. Apart from his gray hair and his wrinkled skin, there is nothing about him that indicates he’s in his sixties.
Thankfully Philip decides to end our staring match. “My name is Philip Stamelos and this is Al Semiramis,” he says, holding his hand out to the investor.
Finally, the investor turns his head away from me and looks at my boss. “Yes, yes, of course. Nice to meet you, Mr. Stamelos. Sorry about the scare, but looking at Ms. Semiramis was like looking at a ghost from the past. The name is Thomas. Thomas Bail.”
They shake hands, but he only nods at me and sits back down, so I follow suit and so does Philip. We order our drinks, and thankfully everyone is back to their own thing after the drama we created, so I relax a little, although I still look at Mr. Bail warily. There is something about him that isn’t right. I don’t have much time to dwell on it because he continues with his apology.
“You see, I knew a woman in my younger days who looked so much like Ms. Semiramis that when I looked at her, I thought I was looking at Margaret, but you see, she’s been dead for over twenty years, last I heard. I was caught off guard because I’ve never seen anyone who even remotely resembled her, but your colleague not just resembles her, she is so like Margaret that if she didn’t speak, I would’ve bet my life I was seeing a ghost. She looks exactly like the woman. Even that beauty mark on the left side of her lip is in the same spot. Amazing.”
He’s speaking breathlessly, but I don’t buy it. It seems too forced, too dramatic, and my inner alarms are going off. There is more to this story, so when I hear him say my grandmother’s name, I force myself not to move a muscle on my face, not to show one emotion, like I’m a statue. He is explaining to both of us, but he won’t take his eyes off me, as if he’s is expecting a reaction, which proves to me even more that something is fishy here.
“How interesting.” I pretend I find it fascinating; two can play this game and I’ve been wearing my mask much longer than him—obviously, because he looks surprised at my reaction.
“You must miss her so very much judging by your reaction. I’m sorry that my looks brought up painful memories for you,” I say with as much sincerity as I can fake.
“Well, yes, it was definitely not expected.”
That’s all he says, and I know I’m right. This person is no friend of my grandmother’s. So, who is he and how does he know her?
Philip changes the subject, thankfully, and they start talking about the firm, what we do, etc. I switch off and make up many scenarios in my head about this stranger. Sharp pain gets me jolted out of the fruitless trip down memory lane, where I was trying to remember if I’d seen him at some point in my life, when Philip kicks my foot under the table. Turning to him, I grind my teeth to cut off the words rushing at the tip of my tongue.
“I was telling Mr. Bail that you brought your presentation of the project.” He looks pointedly at the folder sitting on the table.
“Right! Yes, I have all the findings and research so far summed up, so you can have an idea of what you’ll be investing in,” I start, but he cuts me off.
“There is no need, Ms. Semiramis. I’m aware, just as much as you are, that I will not understand a word you say to me. I don’t know much about quantum physics frequencies or energies, but I was advised that it is a good investment and that’s where the future of business is, so as a good businessman, if I may say so myself, I’ll trust your word on it, and I’ll let you know by tomorrow if we can start working on this projec
t of yours.” He smiles at me, but I fidget uneasily. Obviously, I’m quiet for too long because I get another kick.
“That sounds wonderful and I’m looking forward to it!” I plaster a smile on my face while my brain is working a hundred miles per hour.
“Perfect! If I decide to invest, please make sure there’s an office ready in your building for me the day after we sign the contract,” Thomas Bail says, and before we can register his words and react, he gets up, slaps Philip on his shoulder, nods at me, and starts walking away.
“I have another meeting, but hopefully we will talk tomorrow,” are his last words as he turns his back and hustles away. We just stare at each other.
“What just happened?” I say more to myself than to Philip.
“I think we need to clear an office,” he says grimly, and the look on his face mirrors mine, I’m sure.
The drive back to the office takes forever and we both sit, each lost in our own thoughts. Just as we near the parking lot of the building, I turn my head to look at the old building across the road on the corner, with its beautiful arched windows and stained glass. Before I can even take in enough air to scream, a car slams straight into the middle of our limo. The driver tries to straighten the car that is fishtailing wildly. I hear a scream. Is it mine? I have no idea. Everything slows down and like in a slow-motion film, I see my body lifting off the seat. I watch as Philip’s head hits the window and bounces towards me. My arms go around his shoulders to hold him so he doesn’t go back to hit the window again and as I touch him, a bright golden light envelops us both. The car flips many times, but we do not move. Instead, we’re floating in the middle of the limo like we’re in water. My necklace hovers in the air in front of me and the beautiful butterfly looks like she is taking flight. A rainbow of colors reflects off it like a lightshow before it bursts into a million tiny pieces, forcing my eyes to close so they don’t blind me. The car slams into something and completely stops. With his head on my chest, I glance down into Philip’s eyes, surprised to see the look in his eyes while trying to decipher it. Is it awe? Amazement? Fear?
“Who are you?” he says breathlessly right before he passes out.
My eyes move from him, to the inside of the limo, then they fall on my still-glowing arms wrapped around his shoulders, although the glow is fading bit by bit. Voices from outside drift to my ears as people try to get in and see if we are alive.
“Who am I? Now that’s a very good question,” I whisper as darkness slowly takes over and I gratefully slide into oblivion.
Chapter 4
The sound of waves crashing against the shore lulls me into a dreamlike state. Salty air enters my nostrils as I take deep breaths like I’ve never been able to do before. A gentle breeze moves my hair like fingers brushing through the strands. Feeling like a loving embrace, the sun warms my skin and I smile, turning my face towards it. I stretch my body, twisting like a cat on a lazy morning, my arms raising above my head and my toes pointing down, as I half bury myself in the soft sand. It’s a wonderful experience, and I almost think this is what it is like to float on a cloud.
“Ah, good, you’re awake,” a woman’s voice says to my left. With my eyes still closed and the grin still stretching my lips, I turn my head towards her.
“Come on, we don’t have much time. We need to get you all cleaned up and dressed,” says the same voice.
I’ve never heard this voice before in my life, yet it sounds so familiar. Wait! What? My eyes fly open and I jump up from stretching to a sitting position on the sand, staring at a lovely woman around my age with a thick mane of curly black hair and soft brown eyes that are crinkled at the corners because she is trying very hard not to laugh. Her appearance denotes Middle Eastern heritage to me, but I could be wrong.
“Who the hell are you?” I rasp. Wow! I sound like I haven’t said a word for months.
“My name is Remi, and we can talk as we walk because we really don’t have much time. It took me a bit to find you on this beach. I’ve been at it for a couple of hours, pretty much since we heard the alarm that someone passed the veil,” she says sternly, reaching for my hand.
I pull away and look at her warily. “I asked who you are, not just what your name is, and I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me how I got here and where ‘here’ actually is.”
I frown at her and she chuckles, which grates on my nerves. What the hell is wrong with people that every time I get upset they find it funny? This woman, Remi, is laughing. My boss is the same way, amused at my misfortunes.
Memories hit me like a shockwave in my head. The meeting, the investor, driving back to the office, Philip. My thoughts trail off.
“I’m dead,” I say, my voice flat even to my own ears. Then I start snickering, finding the whole thing rather hilarious. I survive. It’s what I do, what I have done. In fact, I’ve survived so many horrible situations in my life … and now I die in a car accident on my way back to work. Cackling like a lunatic, I fall on my side in the sand, tears running down my cheeks from the hilarity of it all.
“Are you okay?” Remi asks, pulling my attention to her with the worry I hear in her voice, although when I glance at her, she comes off more annoyed that worried.
“Oh, I’m peachy, thank you. I’m just celebrating my own death!” I tell her .
“Well, celebrate while we walk. I don’t want to get in trouble. Come on, move it. And for your information, you’re not dead. You’re just in a coma until we’re done here,” she says while grabbing my hand and yanking me to my feet. Not letting go of me, she starts moving.
“First, we go to the pleasure gardens, then to your chambers to get ready, and finally we go to the temple. We have an hour and a half max to get ready, and with the way you look right now, we need at least a day to make you look presentable.” With raised eyebrows, she peers over her shoulder at me.
I don’t believe her that I’m not dead. Not for a second. Examining myself, my boots are missing, my knee length skirt is torn in various places with patches of dirt and sand marring the once-clean article of clothing, and my silky blouse—which used to be a nice ivory color—is either a gray or green color with blood splattering it in a couple of places. Reaching up with my free hand as I half-walk/half-run after her, I touch my hair only to see little pieces of glass fall from the matted lumps. I sigh and speed up. For a short little thing, Remi walks pretty fast. From the corner of my eye, I scan her as she pulls me towards a line of trees in the distance. Her silky black pants hug her round hips, ballooning down to her ankles where they are tied in perfect bows. A silky black scarf is wrapped around her torso, and a medallion sits in the center of her chest, drawing attention to her full breasts.. Barefoot just like me, she has some sort of chain decoration with little bells on her feet. She is a woman who walks with her head held high, confidence radiating from her. I can never walk like that. Truthfully, if not for my C-cup breasts, I will be mistaken for a boy—and had been more times than not. My narrow hips and tiny butt scream tomboy, and that is exactly what my grandmother used to call me.
While I’m lost in my thoughts, as strange as they are considering the situation, we make it to the trees where she leads me towards a narrow path that will take us into the forest. I follow silently, not sure what to say to this woman. She’s a stranger to me, even if part of me wants to grab her and hug her like a long-lost friend I haven’t seen in years. I don’t know how long we walk through trees so tall I can’t see their tops. Barely any light comes through the branches. There’s just enough for us to see where we’re going.
Beautiful fern and dwarf palm-like bushes surround the path, some with flowers as big as my head in rainbow colors. I look left and right in amazement, trying to take it all in. Being dead isn’t that bad, I think to myself. I could stay in this forest for eternity and be perfectly content. The husky woman’s voice chuckles in my head like she can hear my thoughts, and this time, I don’t even panic. Even when I’m dead I guess I’m still crazy,
hearing voices in my head that aren’t actually there. Either way, nothing else can go wrong. I’m already dead, after all, so I just ignore it the best I can.
We round a bend on the path and my breath catches in my throat as I stare at the beauty in front of me with wide eyes. In the middle of what looks like perfectly-manicured gardens, there is a rectangular pond filled with colorful little fish with lotus blossoms and flowers around the edges. Around the pond there are rows of trees—sycamores, palms, and grenadiers—alternating with the flower beds. The edges of the pond are sloping and there’s a stairway on one corner. Around it are columns supporting grapevines with intricate and colorful cone mosaics in geometrical shapes of people, animals, and black roses. Remi walks towards the pond like it’s an everyday thing, as if she can’t see the beauty around her. I guess if she sees it every day, she is probably used to it by now.
“Welcome to the pleasure gardens, sister,” she says, peering over her shoulder at me.
“Take those rags off. The shampoo is in the blue bottle, body wash in the red one. I’ll go fetch a towel for you. Hurry! We don’t have much time. She doesn’t like to wait!”
Remi’s rushes off, leaving me with so many questions, all of which are unimportant and can wait. It’s not like I have anything else to do now that I’m not among the living. I walk towards the pond, shedding my clothing one piece at a time. The weather is perfect—not too hot and not too cold. As I reach the pond, I look at the crystal-clear waters and the beautiful lotus flowers floating peacefully around it. I spot the bottles Remi mentioned on the other side, so I walk into the water, submerge myself, and swim towards the opposite side. It seems almost tragic to add soap to the water, but as I wash and the suds hit it, they disappear and the water is crystal-clear again. At least I won’t pollute the beauty of this pond.
Just as I finish washing my hair, Remi shows up, standing above me and holding a thick towel in her hand. Glancing at my naked body, I meet her eyes, knowing my face shows my weariness at getting out of the water in front of her.
