by Suzi Davis
“Ms. Grace,” he greeted me, his features twisted in distaste as he spoke. “And just where might you be going, dressed like that?” he demanded, arching a thin, dark brow at me as he climbed the last stair.
“Not that it’s any of your business but I have an appointment downtown at La Sola salon; I’ll be out most of the day. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I attempted to step around him. He took another step towards me, blocking my way. I instinctively recoiled from his closeness; everything about him repelled me and sent warning shivers down my spine.
“You’re going downtown?” He looked skeptical, eyeing my uncharacteristically casual clothes. “I have errands to run downtown myself. I’ll drive you.”
“No, thank you,” I said firmly, struggling to remain polite. I forced myself to step closer so that I might move around him. I held my breath, suppressing a shudder as my sleeve brushed his arm when I passed. “I haven’t driven myself anywhere in quite some time. I want to drive,” I told him, truthfully. He snatched my wrist as I tried to walk away. I could feel the clamminess of his cold, bony fingers pinching into my skin through my sweater sleeve.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist. Your mother has asked that you not go anywhere unaccompanied this weekend.” His black eyes gleamed as he spoke.
“Unfortunately, that is not my mother’s decision to make,” I informed him. His eyes widened in surprise. I usually backed down from confrontations like this, always wanting to keep the peace. And I never, ever, defied my mother’s wishes – until now. Walter’s ugly expression twisted into one of bitter uncertainty, a sudden speculative wariness in his eyes.
Before Walter could argue with me any further, I yanked my arm from his grasp and marched down the staircase without looking back. I knew I was going to have to move fast, he’d be on the phone with my mother in seconds – he may even possibly try and follow me.
I rushed down the last few stairs, hurried across the marble foyer and straight out the huge front doors. I could feel my cell phone vibrating in my bag already. I pulled out my phone as I reached my car, the little black Austin-mini that I barely ever drove anymore. The call display announced it was, indeed, my mother calling. I hesitated, contemplating throwing my phone into the nearby rose bushes. That sudden rebellious surge surprised me. Of course I couldn’t do that – what was I thinking? I wasn’t ready to talk to my mother just yet though so I let the call go through to my voicemail, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat as I hopped into the car and started it up.
I had another moment of doubt as I turned my car around and slowly rolled up to our property gates. What would I do if they didn’t open? I hadn’t thought that far ahead. The gates smoothly slid apart though as apparently I would be permitted to leave. I hadn’t been sure if Walter would have the audacity to lock me in or not.
I sped away from my hideously grandiose house and down the winding road alongside the ocean. The sun was now trying to break through the thick clouds, weak rays reaching the earth and sparkling in the aqua-marine waves. I felt a thrill of optimistic excitement. It felt so good to be driving myself somewhere again; I’d missed my little black car. And it felt even better to be making my own decisions. I glanced reluctantly at my phone on the passenger seat. I had some calls to make before I could completely relax. I eased my foot off the gas, slowing down to pull over onto the side of the road. I would need all of my concentration for this.
First I phoned La Sola salon and cancelled my tanning and hair appointments. I only apologized once for the last minute cancellation, vaguely but firmly stating that something had come up that I had to immediately attend to. The second phone call was the more difficult and nerve-wracking of the two – I phoned my mother back.
Luck was with me today though as she didn’t answer and I was able to leave a message. I hoped she was in a meeting – then I needn’t expect a phone call back anytime soon. I knew I was being a coward but I was still new to this and unpracticed at asserting myself. And though it was intensely satisfying and empowering, it was still dreadfully frightening taking those first steps. The beep of my mother’s voicemail interrupted my thoughts.
“Um, hi, Mom – it’s me, Grace. I, uh… well, I cancelled my appointments for this morning. You see… I had a bit of an argument with Clarke last night, we’ve been having some problems lately and… well, I think he sort of, would like me better if I changed a bit… So I thought I’d try something different and get some sun the natural way today and maybe miss a hair appointment so I don’t look so manicured… He has a rugby game this afternoon – I think he’s going to be surprised with the new me. I hope you’re not mad; I’m sure you’ll understand. It’s important to keep others happy, right? Okay… guess I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
I hung up the phone, a small smile slowly pulling at my cheeks. I had managed to get my mother off my case without ever lying to her. I didn’t even feel very badly that I’d given her the wrong impression. Clarke did want me to change who I was – by staying the same. And he would be surprised this afternoon at his rugby game but only because I wasn’t going to be there. And where was I going to be? I had the whole day to myself, I could do anything I wanted. But there was only one place I wanted to be right then, only one person I wanted to see.
I turned away from the ocean, driving past the outskirts of Beacon Hill Park towards downtown Victoria and the inner harbor. I knew Sebastian was waiting there for me. It was almost as if I could sense him, like he was guiding me home. It seemed strange to think of Sebastian as ‘home’ but I realized it was appropriate enough. I felt more at ease and comfortable with him than I did in my own house. How strange that I felt like that already when I’d known him for only such a short period of time. I suppose some things just happen that way.
I parked my car in a metered lot as close to the harbor as I could get. I hesitated again at the meter, wondering how long I should pay for. I eventually purchased a day pass – better to overestimate, I decided. I remembered to pay in cash too, knowing well that my mother would be checking my visa and debit accounts to see where I had been today.
Although it was only 9:30 in the morning, the city streets were already bustling with Christmas shoppers, tourists and the ever-present homeless and panhandlers. I carefully averted my eyes from the vagabonds, feigning deafness when they asked for money or cigarettes. The homeless weren’t the only ones who paid attention to me. As I walked past a café patio, several of the male patrons eyed me appreciatively. I quickened my pace, feeling an increasing need to be near Sebastian. His presence was calming to me. I always seemed to feel like I was safe with him – no matter how confusing or strange he could be. I felt as if nothing could possibly go wrong as long as I was by his side. It was an inexplicable certainty.
Seagulls swirled overhead against the thin grey clouds. Their cries were drowned out by the wind and the noises of the busy city streets. As I approached the inner harbor, a medley of sounds and sights assaulted my senses. I could smell the salt of the ocean on the frigid breeze, street vendors called out their wares over the bustling crowd, the sounds of different performers blended into one another along the harbor walk, the enticing smells of coffee, popcorn and hotdogs laced through the air. I could feel my excitement slowly building, bubbling up inside of me in anticipation. This was a side to the city I’d never been permitted to partake in, never been allowed to really experience – until today.
I hurried over to the wide cement stairway that led down to the harbor from the street. The crowds were even thicker below alongside the water. I wove my way through the crowds of tourists, and families with young children, their excited smiles matching my own and their eyes alight with the same joyful innocence that I felt. I searched the faces, scanning the crowds for the familiar messy, blackish-blue hair, for a pair of mysterious eyes with long dark lashes, perfectly shaped lips and smooth cheeks. I knew Sebastian was waiting for me somewhere nearby and I felt strangely anxious to find him. Search as I might though, he was now
here to be found.
It was nearly 10:20 am and I’d walked up and down the length of the harbor twice. A few times I’d been distracted – there were displays of hand-made jewelry, an exciting juggling act and an artist sketching caricatures that had attracted my attention but never for longer than a few moments. And yet still, I’d seen no sign of Sebastian. I was starting to feel doubtful. Maybe he’d decided it was a bad idea to be friends after all. Was I wrong in coming here today? Was it too late to turn back?
I could hear the sounds of someone playing flamenco guitar. I drifted towards the fast-paced, intricate melody without thinking. The notes were coming so fast, I imagined the musician’s fingers must be flying on the strings. The mental image the music was creating began to distract me from my doubts. My attention had been caught again as something in my body, perhaps in my soul, responded to the music. The beautiful playing pulled me in.
It was easy to see where the music was coming from. There was a thick crowd nearby, the source of the intricate melody unseen at its center. I paused on the outskirts of the crowd, reluctant to rudely push my way forward. The music beckoned to me though, made my pulse race faster. A warm flush was spreading across my cheeks despite the cold morning air. I plunged into the crowd, worming my way forward as I was driven by a feverish desire to reach the source of this exotic, tantalizing composition. A few people started to protest as I squeezed past them but one look at my face quelled their complaints. Perhaps they forgave me because of my appearance, perhaps they saw the strange, raw need in my eyes. Either way, I quickly made it to my goal.
His dark eyes met mine the moment I broke through to the front of the crowd. I had been right about his fingers, they danced on the guitar, plucking the strings and tapping the frets in a rapid, mesmerizing rhythm. How he maintained such perfect concentration without ever looking was beyond me. And he certainly wasn’t looking at the guitar in his hands – his eyes were only on me. A slow, warm smile spread across his face as he saw me step forward. I flushed again, this time with pleasure, to be the cause of Sebastian’s joy.
His fingers slowed on the strings. The music came to a smooth stop, the last notes echoing magically in the salty, harbor air. The crowd erupted in applause. I clapped politely while butterflies erupted in my stomach. He was still staring only at me, his eyes intense beneath his thick, black lashes. People moved in between us, blocking me from his view as they went to drop money into the open guitar case in front of him.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Sebastian urged in his beautiful, irresistible voice. He had reappeared so suddenly by my side it had made me jump. I looked around in confusion.
“But your guitar – the money…”
“Neither are mine. Come on, I’ll explain,” he promised. He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the crowd, leading me back towards the cement stairway that led up to the street.
“So you’re a street performer?” I asked, lifting a skeptical brow at him. He laughed, his eyes twinkling in response.
“I wasn’t performing on the street,” he argued. “And like I said, neither instrument nor profit were mine – I was merely helping out the owner of both. He was pretty good himself, he was just having a hard time attracting a crowd so I offered to bring a few people over for him.” Sebastian looked at me sideways as he spoke, a joking smile on his face. I was powerless against his charm, automatically smiling back at him. He still held my hand, his grip warm and firm. I linked my fingers through his. The gesture felt familiar and thrilling all at the same time.
“You were amazing,” I told him, though I tried not to sound too impressed. “Your music certainly brought me over anyway. I might not have found you otherwise.”
“Yes, you would have,” he answered, confidently. He smoothly and casually extracted his fingers from mine as he spoke, stuffing his hand into the pocket of the leather jacket he wore. For a fleeting moment I felt a pang of rejection. As soon as I identified the feeling though, I almost laughed at myself. My thoughts and emotions were all mixed up today. Obviously, Sebastian was just a friend.
“You lied to me though,” I accused him, my voice taking on a teasing tone.
“I did?”
“I thought you were going to find me,” I reminded him.
“Didn’t I?” he challenged. Though his expression was serious, his eyes were laughing at me.
“So are you going to show me today?” I asked. My thoughts were jumping around almost as fast as my emotions and I was making very little sense. Sebastian didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to be quite amused and intrigued by my random questions.
“Show you what?” He paused at the top of the stairs to study me curiously.
“You really do forget a lot,” I teased. He seemed to find that very funny.
“I can’t deny it – but please be patient with an old fool.”
“You said you’d show me reality,” I reminded him. “So I’m here, I’m ready.” He grew more somber at my pronouncement, the smile slowly fading from his face.
“I don’t think you are,” he argued softly, almost sadly. “But you’re right – we’ve got to start somewhere. Let’s go to the park. Do you want to take your car or my bike?” It was then that I really took notice of the leather jacket he was wearing. I fought the sudden surge of panic.
“No – no motorcycles. I’ve never been on one and I’m not supposed to…” I let my feeble objections trail off as he smirked at my reaction. “We could walk,” I suggested, hopefully. It was a warm enough day for November and I was enjoying being outside.
“We could,” he considered, his lips pursing together thoughtfully. “Alright, let’s go.” He started walking as soon as he decided. I had to hurry to catch up.
It took us nearly forty-five minutes to walk from the harbor, past the impressive stone government buildings and the Provincial museum and up to the outskirts of Beacon Hill Park. We walked slowly, at a comfortable, leisurely pace, and even stopped to buy coffees and muffins along the way at a little café. I tried not to scarf my muffin down – it was the first carbohydrate I’d had in nearly a week. I enjoyed it almost as much as the company I was keeping.
Sebastian was, as always, completely interesting, thoroughly enthralling and absolutely confusing and strange. He did most of the talking as we walked, telling me his views on happiness and his philosophy to life. For the most part it seemed he did what he wanted, when he wanted; he listened to his heart, followed his instincts, indulged his desires. He didn’t care about what others thought, only what he thought of himself. It was selfish to some extent but it also seemed to be a strangely satisfying and enjoyable existence. I was happy enough to listen to him chatter away. Sometimes I added my own thoughts and, more often than not, my own objections. He always had an answer though, always explaining his thoughts to me patiently, if not confusingly with an ancient wisdom to his tone. It was nice to discover that though we were very different people, we still shared many values and beliefs. We both had strong morals and spiritual faith even though some details of our beliefs differed. We both valued honesty, creativity and kindness, and we both felt the world was a magical place, full of infinite possibilities. Outwardly, Sebastian was my complete opposite but at our cores, we were the same.
For most of our walk, I found myself just listening to him, allowing his words to wash over me in their smooth, musical pattern as I absorbed the emotion and intensity behind them. Other times I carefully dissected each thought, each sentence, allowing his ideas to really sink in, to reflect upon and question my own life. He gave me a lot to think about. He was obviously very intelligent and seemed to have much more experience and wisdom than his eighteen years had given him. Our conversation was enthralling and his company was just as compelling. I could hardly take my eyes off him as he spoke, becoming lost in studying the smooth contours of his face.
I suddenly realized Sebastian had fallen silent. He was staring back at me now, an amused smile on his face as he caught me admirin
g him. I looked away in embarrassment. That was when I noticed we had arrived at Beacon Hill Park.
“So we’re here – what now?” I asked, brusquely, still feeling a little embarrassed. He grinned back at me as we walked past the park’s large, carved sign that announced its name and into the quiet and peaceful woods.
“I want to show you something,” he told me quietly, his dark eyes mysterious and amused. The wind began picking up as he spoke, swirling the fallen leaves around us and making the hairs on my arms stand on end. I waited for him to say more, but instead he merely stared at me in silence, a small smile on his face. The wind blew even harder, its intensity increasing with the emotion in Sebastian’s eyes. I watched in amazement as the leaves flew up and around us, higher and higher, floating and spinning in a supernatural wind. The air was suddenly full of dead leaves, swirling steadily against the skeletal trees. I began shaking, unsure if it were from the sudden cold wind or the strange autumnal cyclone that we were now in the center of. I could hardly believe what I was seeing.
“You’re cold,” Sebastian noticed. He ignored the swirling leaves as he stepped closer to me, his eyes so dark and serious. I forgot about the strange wind, the impossibly spiraling leaves, the cold, the park and everything else as he reached out to gently place one warm hand to either side of my face. His face was suddenly so close to mine, his beauty even more obvious and overwhelming up close. My heart began pounding wildly, my head was spinning as he leaned in closer to me. I wasn’t sure what was happening, only that I didn’t want it to stop.
He pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt, tenderly tucking the loose wisps of my hair in place and then quickly stepped back from me. My lips parted in surprise, an objection frozen in place as he pulled away. For a moment, I could have sworn I’d seen something in his eyes – an emotion, a desire that was a fiery echo of my own.
