Atlantis

by Lisa Graves

  Atlantis

  by Lisa Graves

  Atlantis

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2010 by Lisa Weight

  Cover art copyright 2011 by Darren Weight

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Lisa Weight.

  April 2011

  This book is dedicated to all of you who

  strive for truth, answers, and mystery.

  3 7 11 13 17

  Prologue

  It may be a little cliche, but the first time I saw Lilly was magical. Stars twinkling, slow motion, can’t breathe kind-of stuff. When I found her the second time, after many, many years of searching, it took all of my self control to not pull her close, hold her tight in my arms, and never let her go. But she didn’t know me then. I would have to be patient. Love is like that sometimes. It can change your life.

  One person can change your life.

  Chapter 1. Sparks

  “I’m not scared!”

  “Let’s go. It’s not far,” I said.

  Elliott and I walked into the woods that edged the neighborhood. A crow cried out as it flew overhead. A chill ran down my spine.

  We came upon the two trees that marked the hidden path to my park. I could sense his apprehension. It felt as though there was electricity in the air, like sparks dancing across steel wool. All of the other trees in the neighborhood were predominately maples. The two trees that marked the passage were very old and ancient looking oaks.

  Elliott looked worried by the way the trees seemed to grab for us. I was used to their ominous presence. To my surprise, he took hold of my hand. We stood hidden in shadow at the base of the path. Electricity pulsed through me in reaction to his touch. Elliott felt magnetic somehow. I shivered. And he smiled at my reaction.

  “Is this dangerous?” he asked, trying to put a mocking tone in his voice.

  “No. I go there all the time. At night even,” I said reassuringly.

  “Then how come you said, ‘people think it’s haunted’?”

  “You’ll just have to see,” I teased.

  Elliott let me lead him down the dimly lit trail. The trees were so big and dense that they blocked out most of the sunlight. I loved it. The path was a hundred yards of an overgrown trail. Here and there, a squirrel or field mouse would cross in front of us as we continued on without speaking. The only sound was the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath our feet. Elliott seemed a lot like me. The quiet part at least.

  My body reveled in reaction to his hand holding mine the entire distance of the pathway. For the first time ever, I wished the journey was longer to my refuge.

  I had been to the hidden park more than a hundred times before, but today there was something different in the air. Maybe it was me. It was probably Elliott. Silently, we walked to the edge of the darkness. To the edge of the clearing.

  Together, with our hands still clasped tight, we stepped into the light. My eyes shied away from the abrupt brightness of the sun, as I quickly looked to see what Elliott’s response was to my park.

  His eyes seemed to question my sanity as he spoke. “It’s a cemetery?”

  “Not the whole thing,” I replied as I looked affectionately at the wildflower meadow that was unevenly scattered with headstones.

  “I don’t think this looks like a park, Lilly. Where’s the jungle gym?”

  “Not all parks have playgrounds,” I reverted back in a mocking tone. “Besides, I like it.”

  Our hands were still clutched tight together. My body had an obvious physical attraction to Elliott. Not sexual, though he was good looking. It felt more magnetic. My body craved his presence. It felt like true happiness just to be near him. My thumb brushed against his knuckle, as we walked towards the center of the clearing.

  “I think I understand why you like this place. It’s peaceful. For a cemetery,” Elliott said with complete sincerity. He shook his head as though something about the place was funny. I was too shy to ask about it.

  I smiled with my eyes as we reached the middle of the meadow, wondering to myself if this wasn’t somehow a dream. Elliott’s eyes smiled back. I feigned fainting. I fell to the soft ground, and being still attached at the hands, I took Elliott down with me. We both lay on our backs, there, under the sun, watching the shapes in the clouds stroll across the baby blue sky. Quiet filled the air. The scent of lavender all around us.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked me. True curiosity riddled his words, as well as a hint of an accent.

  “About what’s real or isn’t real.”

  “Such as...”

  “This. . . Here. . . Now. I haven’t had a day this fabulous... ever.” I blushed at my unexpected honesty, and I realized that I was biting my lip. I silently scolded myself for my veracity. I needed to stop. My eyes nervously made their way to his. The confusion on his face was perplexing.

  “What does that have to do with reality?” Elliott said.

  “More than you know.”

  My mind was suddenly reeling through my thoughts and memories so fast, I was amazed I was keeping up. My semi-photographic memory was temporarily out of control as various images flashed through my mind. Elliott’s thumb brushed my hand and stopped my reeling thoughts on a random phrase that was previously dormant in my vault of memories. I shut my eyes in order to see.

  “I shut my eyes in order to see,” I muttered under my breath as I instinctively shut my eyes on the sun.

  All of a sudden, all of my mixed thoughts and the confusing flash images clicked. They made sense. It was as if the world was trying to tell me something all along. My mind was trying to tell me. It wanted free.

  My sudden epiphany fascinated me, and to my surprise, I had momentarily forgotten where I was. I opened my eyes to an intense and curious stare.

  “What just happened? Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I answered warily. “Why?”

  Elliott seemed unsure of something as he said, “You zoned out -- but more...it was like...you...” he trailed off in thought.

  “Uhh,” was all I could bring myself to respond. If he thought I was some crazy mind power freak, Elliott might not talk to me anymore. He might not see me anymore. And even though we’d just met, I wanted, no needed, to be near him.

  “I’m tired,” I finally responded. It wasn’t even a lie.

  Evaluating my expression, Elliott said, “maybe we should get you home,” as he stood up and pulled me to my feet.

  All of the blood rushed to my head, and I started to sway and fall back towards the ground. Elliott held me up as I regained control over my body. However, his closeness wasn’t helping my clarity.

  We walked together, hand in hand, back towards my house. My embarrassment made it feel like forever to get back to the main road. The seconds dragged. Elliott was quiet. Obviously contemplating my sanity, or lack of, I thought. The sound of the blue jays’ cries seemed to boom in comparison to our silence. But I didn’t know what to say.

  Elliott walked me up to my door. The unclenching of our hands physically hurt. I felt a sense of loss without his touch, and I turned to face the door in case Elliott could somehow see how deeply I was affected by him. What was wrong with me? Without a sound, he turned and walked away. However, I couldn’t resist a quick glance over my shoulder as I walked into my house. Our eyes met. He was watching me, too. Elliott winked at me as I shut the door.

  I ran up the stairs to my room.

  As I entered my domain
, I realized that a long-legged, blond haired girl was laying on my bed. Charlotte. Charlotte was one of my two best friends, who happened to live down the street. She often let herself into my room through the window. Charlotte was perky, happy, and annoying. Sometimes I couldn’t figure out why we were friends. I guess the saying was true about opposites attracting.

  “Hey Harlet,” I sang. “What ya doing?”

  “Drawing. Your stupid cat keeps moving. Can’t Theory hold still while she steals your soda crackers?” Charlotte asked, obviously perturbed.

  I looked at my grey, chunky fluff-head of a cat that was munching on the open package of soda crackers on my desk.

  “Apparently cats don’t make good drawing models. But I just met one.”

  “What?” Charlotte asked, now assessing my unusually happy mood.

  “The new neighbors have a son. And boy is he dreamy!” I gushed as I plopped down on the bed with Charlotte.

  “How old is he?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

  “I bet you just quietly said ‘hi’ and didn’t even make a move,” Charlotte stabbed her words at me. “Your shyness could be considered a disorder.”

  “Yeah. Pretty much,” I blushed. “But, he wasn’t. He asked me to show him around.”

  Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. “Did you?”

  “Yeah. I brought him to the park.”

  “Figures,” she said, her baby blue eyes rolling back in her head, displeased. “Only you would bring a good looking piece of man meat to a cemetery. Did he run away screaming?”

  “No. He liked my park. Elliott did seem a bit weirded out by my trance though.”

  “Trance?” Charlotte crossed her arms, waiting. “Explain.”

  I told Charlotte about my epiphany, and how I may have freaked Elliott out - a bit. Charlotte was good at listening, but not at understanding. She made fun of me.

  “Lil, have you gone completely nuts? I know you don’t sleep much, but come on. Wait. That must be it. Your brain isn’t trying to tell you that there is more, but that it wants more, more sleep.”

  “No. This was more than some minor mental musing, or a seizure. I really think I’m onto something.”

  “And. . . I don’t. Tell me more about the neighbor boy. Elliott was it?”

  “Well, he has olive skin and dark brown hair. Tall.”

  “Everyone is tall, to you,” Charlotte laughed.

  “Do you want a description or not?”

  Our friend, Nicholas, then tapped on the glass. Charlotte’s eyes shot to my window. “Not,” she replied.

  Nicholas was another one of the freakishly tall people that seemed to gravitate to me. He hit his shaggy blond head on my window as he let himself in.

  “Damn it!” he cussed under his breath.

  “Janet,” Charlotte and I said in unison. We all laughed at our inside joke that we derived from Nicholas’s favorite movie.

  “Do you hoes wanna go get something to eat?” Nicholas asked.

  “Heck yes! I’m starving. Watching Theory nibble crackers was making me hungry,” Charlotte happily chimed.

  “How bout you, Lil?” Nicholas said as he directed his attention to me.

  I looked at Charlotte and she looked conflicted. I knew she both wanted me to come, and not, at the same time. I didn’t feel like dealing with her drama today.

  “No thanks Nitch-o-las. I want to attempt a nap,” I replied with a yawn.

  Nicholas and Charlotte then proceeded to exit my room the very way they came in, through the window.

  I sat on my bed for a moment before deciding to eat my favorite meal of soda crackers and Dr Pepper as a late breakfast. Theory had made me hungry too.

  I ran downstairs and ransacked the fridge for a Dr Pepper. I had my own store of crackers tucked away in my room. I managed to avoid my mother and all the questions that were sure to be flung at me about the new neighbors. She would be all too pleased with herself for making me go welcome them. I thought it best to postpone that as long as possible.

  Once back in my room, I sat down at my desk, hit play on my stereo, and listened to the music while I enjoyed my food. I loved the sweet and salty combination. When my tummy was satisfied, I unzipped my hoodie, turned off the light, and closed my blinds. Sleep eluded me so well when it was dark. I didn’t have much faith in achieving any decent amount of z’s midday. I still tried.

  Time dragged. I lay in bed trying to sleep, scrutinizing my room instead. My royal blue walls comforted me. I was still surprised that my mom let me paint the walls so dark. I propped myself up in the corner, between my bed and the wall, as my eyes danced across the collage of band posters and friend pictures that covered most of the opposing wall. Stacks of books were everywhere. Three cd's later, my eyelids started to feel heavy. Exhausted as I was, sleep didn’t come. Insomnia really sucks!

  I could feel my body succumbing to sleep, but my mind started to race again. Darting randomly from Elliott, to my epiphany, and back to Elliott. Then there was a knock on my door.

  “Lilly, dinner’s ready,” my mother said through the door.

  I sprinted down to the kitchen table. My little sister, Sophie, was already there. I ate the spaghetti as fast as possible while I answered, as vaguely as I could, the flood of questions my mother unleashed on me. Finishing dinner first, I quickly dumped my plate into the sink as I ran back to my room muttering something about being tired.

  Once in my harbor, I decided to read the art history book I had recently bought. The glossy color images of the paintings, drawings and sculptures fascinated me. Let alone the history hidden within the art. I had recently learned that it was not uncommon to weave secret messages into a painting. One of the examples in the book was of a painting called The French Ambassadors, in which a skull is hidden in plain view. Two men flank either side of the painting, and apparently the long, gray shape that slashes through the center of the painting is really a skull that can only be seen with a special mirror. Awesome, I thought.

  A light tapping on my window made me look up. A quick glance at the clock surprised me that it was already ten. I turned, expecting to see Charlotte or Nicholas letting themselves in. I was shocked when I recognized in the moonlight that my visitor was Elliott, waiting for me to let him in.

  I stumbled out of bed as I made my way to the window. I had an unusual amount of trouble getting it open in my flustered state.

  “Good evening,” whispered his warm, comforting voice. “May I come in?”

  The proper way in which he spoke reminded me of my favorite romantic comedy, with him sounding like the foreign lead actor. It managed to blow all thought from my mind. “Uh-huh,” was all I could manage as I moved out of the way and he stepped into my room.

  “Sorry. I hope you don’t mind me using the window.”

  Elliott misunderstood. My confusion wasn’t that he used the window. It was that he was there period.

  “I noticed your friends climbing in and out of here all day. I hope it’s okay with you,” he grinned a sly smile.

  He noticed my friends? He was watching? For me? I thought. Even though it sounded borderline stalker, I was flattered.

  “Sure. Does that mean you forgive me for being a total idiot today?” I asked. My eyebrows furrowed. I could feel sleep finally creeping up on me. Maybe it had already.

  “There is nothing to forgive you for. Myself, however,“ Elliott seemed angry at himself. “I am sorry for not being more understanding. What happened anyway?”

  “I came to a realization, that’s all.” I bit my lip. I wasn’t about to say more.

  “You are extremely mysterious,” he said with a smile.

  “Thanks?” The room looked fuzzy.

  “And beautiful.”

  The confusion in my eyes left. I must be dreaming.

  “Well, I just wanted to see you again and say goodnight,” he grinned as he leaned into me and gave me an unexpected hug. Electricity flowed through my body, once again, in respons
e to his touch. Can you dream physical contact? It seemed so real.

  Elliott crawled back out my window. He paused on the roof outside and whispered to me, “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. And you are both.” Elliott smiled then disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter 2. The Dream

  I fell onto my bed in a daze. Did I just hallucinate? That couldn’t have happened. Could it?

  My thoughts flew out of control, and out the window. It wasn’t until I realized the unnatural absence of sound that I figured I must be dreaming.

  I was walking down the hidden path to my park as usual. It was dark and late. But there wasn’t a sound. No animals scurrying, no leaves rustling, no wind. I couldn’t even make out the crunching of the gravel beneath my feet as I moved forward to my favorite place in the world.

  Tonight my park was different somehow. It still looked the same; all the headstones stood as before; the wildflowers were dancing in the moonlight. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of my uneasiness. A strange glimmer caught my eye from across the meadow. The moonlight was reflecting off one of the headstones in a bizarre way that drew me in.

  Inching forward, I started to make out the small shape that was the culprit of the shimmer. It was a ring. I rubbed my eyes. There was a peculiar way the moon held this ring in its light. I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I should touch it.

  As I reached for the ring, a cool breeze shot a warning up my spine. My pale skin erupted in goosebumps. I looked around the meadow again. No one was there. I was alone.

  My hand slowly caressed the rough stone, as my fingers crept up to the shining silver circle. I placed the ring in my hand. It was frigid. It couldn’t have been here for long. How odd. I would think that the warm summer night would warm the metal in no time.