Terry Persun's Magical Realism Collection

by Persun, Terry

  Lewis sat down next to his brother. “Okay, what?”

  Jeffrey slapped his palm over Lewis’ knee. “I’ve been thinking. The further along you get with your painting, the further apart we become. I know I’m headed in a different direction in life than you. Nonetheless, we’re twins. Sometimes I miss being brothers as we grow older. You’re just so driven. Nothing gets in your way.”

  Lewis looked away from Jeffrey, to the side of the house, then looked back.

  Jeff must have noticed Lew’s impatience. “Well look, with you building a cottage and now getting married, I want you to know I love you. You’re my brother.”

  Lewis forced himself to put his arm around Jeffrey. Not that he didn’t love Jeff, but to Lewis those deep feelings were so strong with common thought that he felt them differently, maybe even more strongly, except that they were all part of a whole, and were expressed only through his art. He seldom fell into one emotion without dragging others with it and then setting them all down on canvas. “Me too,” he said rather matter-of-factly. “I mean it,” he added to make up for the coldness he had sensed in his own voice.

  “I know. Now, you can head off and rescue your maiden.”

  “Thanks.” Lewis got up.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Force my way into her house?”

  “Want a suggestion?”

  Lewis wanted to run off, but he knew his brother would be logical in coming up with a solution. “Yes, I do.”

  “Buy a diamond, a big one. Do it right. Few women can refuse that. It’s like you really mean it. Go out of your way.”

  Lewis’ eyes darted to the side. That would take time, and he was ready to go get her now.”

  “Do it, Lew. You won’t have to force your way in. She’ll open the door.”

  Jeff was right and Lewis knew it. “Thanks, Jeff. If it works, you get to be best man.”

  “Hey, I’m the best man anyway, and don’t you forget it.”

  They both smiled, then Lewis left.

  Much later I found out how things went, after Lewis returned that evening and I probed him. But for the rest of the morning, I soaked up the sounds of the workers. The hammering and sawing reminded me of the time just before Lewis and Jeffrey moved in. The hollow sounds of young and old voices driving deeply into the woods was soothing. I stretched towards the sun as it rose across the sky and could feel growth, something humans and animals miss because they are always wrestling with the freedom of movement. I listened to the sounds of common thought, felt the field, the birds, heard the leaves clicking together in the morning breezes.

  Jeffrey remained seated on the porch steps for a long while after Lewis left. Occasionally, I focused on him, but could not get inside him. He looked sad and lost in thought. I realize, up to this point, I may have insinuated that Lewis’ contact with common thought furthered and enriched his life far beyond that of other human’s, but that is not to mean that other humans don’t have deep feelings or thoughts of their own, only that Lewis used his differently.

  Jeffrey sat on the steps, deep in thought. Whatever was inside him, it had a tight hold on him and was wrenching his soul. Possibly, as twins, he was so closely linked to Lewis that he tried, for himself, to resolve what he felt were Lewis’ internal anxieties. I don’t know, but I don’t want to downplay what Jeffrey might have felt.

  When Lewis returned home, he went straight upstairs. By that time, Jeffrey was out with Marsha, so the room was empty. Lewis wanted to talk to someone, so he left and went to the cottage, which by the time he arrived, was bathed in orange light and strong angular shadows. He walked between the frame studs of the front door, over to the center of the floor which would eventually be a wall to separate one of the bedrooms from the kitchen, and sat down. He lay back onto the floor and watched the colored clouds twist and bend with the wind.

  Brittany had gone to work with hopes of getting off early so that she could visit him. He was happy with the turnout, yet tired from all the days of little sleep. He had many paintings to show for his time though, and open wall space in several galleries for them. As he lay back on the plywood floor, he could smell the odor of forest floor float over him whenever a breeze made its way down through the trees. The field rippled with delight and relief as the wind bent its stalks, stretched its membranes and cooled it down.

  Lewis recalled the day’s events, and what he didn’t recall, I probed into his more recent memory for details.

  After taking Jeffrey’s advice and picking up a diamond, Lewis drove to a parking spot in front of a white house two blocks from Brittany’s. Holding the small ring case in his tight, white-knuckled palm, he rushed over the uneven sidewalk to her front door. There would be no way for her to see him coming unless she were staring out the window. He knocked. Brit’s mother came to the door and smiled at first sight of Lewis, then frowned. “I don’t think she wants to see you.”

  “Give her this, then. Please.” He held out the case, his arm inside the partially opened door.

  Brit’s mother looked down, then swept the case from his hand.

  “I want to do the right thing. I love Brittany.”

  A smile returned to the mother’s face. “I know you do, son. Wait here.” She closed the door.

  Lewis stood with his hands folded in front of him. He didn’t know how he felt, but was on a mission. Only the mission mattered. Only what he came to do was important. As that thought pushed a wide road through his brain, obstacles popped up: What if Brit refused the diamond? What if she really didn’t want to marry him now, after the past months? What if her mother didn’t approve? What if she didn’t return?

  Lewis plowed through his thoughts until he felt stymied just standing there and decided to try the door. It was unlocked.

  Lewis stepped inside to the familiar sight and smell of Brit’s house. He had been there often, its feel second nature to him. In a half run, he climbed the carpeted stairs to the upstairs hall, turned down the hall and went directly to her bedroom and pushed open the door. “Brittany, I want to marry you. Now, stop all this nonsense and say yes.” As soon as the words left his mouth he felt embarrassed. His face felt like it turned red. He found that in all the excitement tears had formed in his eyes, which increased his embarrassment tenfold.

  Mrs. Sholes stared at him and Brittany held the ring between her thumb and forefinger. Both looked surprised at his entrance.

  Luckily, time did not slow.

  “Yes,” Brittany said. “Oh, yes, yes, yes. I will marry you.” She was smiling at him. Her face half made up, mascara sitting on the makeup table, open and ready to finish off her face. Then she and her mother broke into laughter as though the last two months had culminated into a huge joke. As though, Lewis rushing into the room, teary-eyed, blushing, and announcing his unfettered love, was the punch line.

  The urgency he had felt quickly subsided. He felt conspicuous. What should he do with his hands? He took one step, then stopped.

  Brittany bounced up and down in the characteristic way she did when she was excited and happy.

  Her mother smiled so broadly Lewis couldn’t see her ears. He gave a half shrug, not knowing what to do next.

  Brittany closed the gap between them and hugged him, kissed him. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, and everything inside Lewis began to calm and feel better. In a half trance, he came home.

  As Lewis watched the sky, the tree tops at the corners of his vision, an occasional bird fly by, and listened to the sounds of chirping and cawing, he allowed himself to fall deeply into common thought. He felt the trees sway in the wind, which pulled at their tops only to be dragged down through one lower branch after another, until only a breeze reached the forest floor. He listened for the squirrels and chipmunks and snakes, searched inside common thought for their whereabouts and found them. There were several deer nearby. He lingered around them. Like calm meditation, Lewis let himself go where he may, linger wherever he felt like lingerin
g. His exhaustion helped him to remain calm and accepting. There was too little energy left in him to become confused, too little energy to deal with fear or anxiety. He held onto his meditation and recognized it as the best he’d felt in months. Working to the point of exhaustion had become a blessing.

  As he roamed the forest and ferreted out deer, chipmunks, bushes, as he explored the enchanted forest with its brown pine-needle floor and trickling stream, a wary, yet determined Brittany walked up what would eventually be the road to the cottage. She stepped over rocks and logs placed in holes dug in by the contractor’s trucks. She tip-toed through slightly muddy areas, her arms out to her sides for balance. A wind rushed down the road and tossed her blonde hair away from her face. In the soft evening light, she appeared to be glowing. She was an unsure traveler who turned at every noise, and at every noise rushed a little more. When she arrived at the cottage site, she yelled, “It’s beautiful.”

  Lewis barely heard her voice. He still roamed the woods, determining which colors he would need to mix together to create the idea of deer or snake. Slowly, recognizing her voice as she said the word beautiful over and over until he looked up, Lewis wandered back, not wishing to disturb anything along the way. He raised his head, and I saw Brittany, once again, through his eyes. Freshly back from common thought, Lewis saw only his love when he looked at Brittany. And she, he thought adoringly, was pregnant with his child. He sat up and his smile broadened. Brittany had her hands on the floor and was climbing up and over the edge one foot at a time. Her hair fell over her face and, when she stood on the floor, she brushed it back with her hand.

  “You got off early.” Lewis’ voice had the calm one has when there is total peace within.

  “I just had to be with you.”

  “Welcome to your new home.” He lifted his head and spread his arms out in welcome.

  “It’s just as you drew it.”

  “Almost.”

  “It’s perfect.” She walked over to where he lay, her heals clacking on the plywood.

  Lewis reached over and held her ankle. She wore black slacks and a thin green blouse, the colors of the forest at night. A splash of moonlight fell over her head.

  “I’m sorry about the last two months. I don’t know what I expected of you.”

  “It’s over now.”

  “You seem so, so calm about it now, like you’re out-of-it.”

  “I’m tired, Brit,” he dismissed her query. “I needed you here. I love you.”

  She bent down to her knees and kissed him. “Oh, Lewis, I am sorry.”

  “Me too. I should have known I couldn’t live without you.”

  “You were fine.”

  “Not inside. I feel fine now, now that you’re back.”

  Brittany sat next to him. The sun dropped further behind the mountain behind the cottage. “This is beautiful.”

  “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

  “How did you swing it?”

  “Dad helped. I bought quite a few acres, the field, some woods, all the way back to Mom and Dad’s.”

  Brittany brushed her hand across his cheek. Lewis slipped an arm around her waist and lay back down, pulling her into a prone position.

  “There are stars out,” she said. “Stars over our house.” Her voice was dreamy.

  “There are stars in your eyes,” Lewis said.

  “You’re not very original.”

  “Should I be?”

  “Not right now.”

  They kissed and Lew’s hand slipped up along her stomach to her chest.

  Brittany sighed long and deep.

  Their mouths met. Lew’s hand searched through her blouse for a breast.

  Brittany pulled him over onto her and held him tightly. “Are we alone?”

  “Only the trees,” he said.

  They made love on the plywood floor of the partially built cottage. No animals stirred in fear, none worried of danger. In his final ecstasy, Lewis dropped back into common thought allowing us all to know his joy.

  By the time they walked back and Brittany left for home, the sky had become very dark with clouds. A cold Canadian wind had picked up and brought the threat of rain with it.

  Lewis patted the window ledge of Brit’s car. She sat behind the wheel, the engine running.

  “I had a wonderful evening,” she said.

  Lewis smiled. “Me, too. Maybe when the house is finished we’ll try it again.”

  “Before then, I hope.” She placed her hand over his. “I missed us.”

  Lewis bent down and kissed her, his head resting against the top of the door.

  “I’ll have to work tomorrow.”

  “That’s all right, we’re back together.”

  She held up her hand. The diamond sparkled from the light coming from the house behind Lewis. A kitchen light was on. “I love it,” she said.

  “I’m glad.”

  “I better go.”

  “Good night, Brit.”

  “Good night, loverboy.”

  When she pulled away, Lewis, instead of going into the house, walked up the old tractor road. The darkness was almost absolute under the canopy of dark green, but he knew his way well. There was a slight clearing where I stood, partially caused by my expansive spread of branches. The underbrush was thin there.

  Lewis came over and climbed up onto the branch he had first fallen from. The height was no longer threatening. He sat in the crook and put his back against my trunk, drew his legs up to rest along the branch. His eyes closed and all energy seemed to slip from his body. The only activity going on was in his mind which traveled out across common thought, listening and learning more about the way nature works. Lewis just sat and accepted everything, often converting sounds, tastes, feelings, into color, twists in shape, spirals, lines. Common thought was a well to drink from, to stuff inside him the waters of understanding. Not only good happened in nature. In the short time he sat on my branch, animals killed and ate other animals, plants died. He took it all in and converted it to color and line. The wind picked up through the forest and the loud crack of thunder snapped Lewis from his meditation. Lightning flashed again and a few seconds later another loud crack spread shock waves through the area.

  Lewis shivered and folded his arms across his chest and drew his knees up tighter to his body. He pushed his head into his knees and closed his eyes again. Intimately, he felt the wind caress him. He focused on the enchanted forest. Needles swept across the dirt to form little mounds. Branches shifted in the wind. Leaves twisted and tried to pull loose, some did, floating for long moments in the wind. Lewis waited for the next crack of thunder, but before it came, the rain began to fall. The wind separated the foliage and let the drops penetrate to the forest floor. Pellets the size of small stones fell all around, dampening the ground and Lewis. He sat in the crook of my branch, getting colder as he got wetter. Something about the feel of the rain against his body made him stay. He wanted to know it better, that sensation. What color was it, a transparent blue with green and red portions? How much did each drop weigh? How long did each stay wrapped in its own surface tension before splattering in all directions, or soaking into a new being? Lewis listened and felt and smelled. He tipped his head up to taste the drops and watch them fall. When lightning came again, the clearing opened up in a brightness beyond day, then closed off into deeper darkness. He stared. Again, lightning struck and he saw something, someone, standing, raising his arm. Lewis sat up straight and stared. I waited with him. Again, the lightning flashed before the thunder came. The man, dressed in loose-fitting Indian garb, had his arm out and a finger pointed at Lewis. The man was old. Lewis stood, hugging my trunk.

  At first, I did not see the man, nor feel him. He didn’t appear in common thought, only inside Lewis. Through Lewis’ eyes.

  When the next flash hit, he was gone. Lewis had changed everything that came to him, through his senses, to shape and color, had fallen into abstraction on several occasions, but never, up to that point,
created something so real. Lewis blinked and waited. Rain had soaked his head and streamed down his face and into his eyes. When lightning flashed again, there was still no one there. It had been a spirit. That’s what Lew imagined, or knew, a human spirit. I had never seen one, hadn’t seen this one accept through Lewis. Common thought had no memory of it. I don’t know how human spirits worked, but Lewis had either seen one or had conjured one up, as he was more than capable of doing. Whichever had happened, Lewis, instead of showing fear of the unknown, felt awe, felt as though he had been chosen. In the darkness, he climbed down and slowly started back for home. I went with him, and tried to understand what had happened. His exhaustion had reached a critical state where he easily fell into common thought, accepted whatever death or life was there. He also began to hallucinate, and accepted that as real, too. As he walked towards his home, he was on the verge of collapse. The cold rain penetrated his clothes, soaking his skin to a tacky dampness. Rain trickled down over his eyes; he walked like a man possessed, a zombie. Before he made it back, he collapsed onto the old tractor road, into the soft mud.

  CHAPTER 10

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Jeffrey jumped out of bed screaming. “Mom! Dad!”

  Mrs. Marshal stepped from her bedroom door in a robe. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Lewis didn’t come home last night.”

  “Don’t you think he’s with Brittany?”

  “No. I don’t know why, but I feel something’s wrong.”

  “Okay.” She turned and went back into the bedroom. “Honey, get up, Jeff says Lewis is missing.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Why, what happened now?”

  “Nothing. He just has a feeling.”

  “Fine. I’m gettin’ up.”

  Jeff appeared at their door in jeans and sweatshirt, dressed for a search. “I’m going out to the cottage.”

  “The cottage? You think he’s there?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just my first thought. I’ll come back by way of the old oak. He may have gone there, too. Can you call Brit’s just in case I’m crazy?”