Alice smiled. “There’s only one thing you can do…and it’s the perfect time.”
Freya frowned but before she had a chance to speak Alice had vanished, disappearing into the pale rays that shone through the grey clouds. Then Freya knew exactly what she had to do.
Excitement effervesced and Freya’s joy almost bubbled over in anticipation as she ran ahead and leapt up into the sky. Freya danced becoming one with the elements, and made the most of the pale sun, the raindrops still hanging in the air and the backdrop of the ocean.
First she conjured scarlet, as vivid as remembrance poppies, sunset orange to offset the red and sunflower yellow came next. Then green, like her willow, and blue…the exact shade of daddy’s t-shirt, and then she drew on the colour of deepening night to form indigo and finished with Purple Ted’s violet hue.
Then she waited.
As the rainbow appeared Rachel slowed, her mouth dropped open and her eyes stared in wonder. Her heart pounded and her spine prickled, and fresh tears misted her eyes.
“Oh, Freya…your rainbow!” she whispered. “Freya! Freya!” Her voice rose. “Freya, number ten! Freya it’s your rainbow!”
Rachel’s heart spilled over and she roughly wiped her tears away. She broke into a run and hurried forward then stopped and laughed, her peal of laughter ringing in the air. “Your rainbow!” she cried. “Freya’s rainbow!”
Freya wiped away her own tears and stood waiting beneath the arc, watching her mother.
Exaltation filled Rachel’s soul as she stood gazing in awe at the divine phenomenon. She blinked and followed the arc with her eyes taking in every colour. It faded into the ocean at the far end, and Rachel cast her eyes across its bow. The rainbow hovered, beginning some feet above the sand a little way ahead of her, or so it seemed. Again, she skipped forward and ran towards it, but with every step it moved further away, yet remained the same…
Freya’s mother stopped again and placed her hands on her knees, bending forward. She laughed again, allowing the endorphins to fizz through her, making her dizzy. The rainbow reflected across the wet sand and as Rachel looked up she thought about her daughter.
Freya watched with love bursting from every pore, knowing that her mother had found her answer, feeling the restraints ping away, and a celestial call seeped through her body beckoning her home.
Her eyes searched the beach and set upon her little sister and her father. Both together, Jasmine sitting astride her father’s knee, and both staring with delight at the most beautiful rainbow they had ever seen, a rainbow that hung in the sky with such glory and clarity that neither could take their eyes off of it.
Jasmine turned to her dad and grabbed his t-shirt. “You blue top Daddy, like that rainbow, and green like mine t-shirt.”
“And purple like Freya’s teddy bear.” Daddy smiled. “And beautiful like Freya,” he murmured.
Freya turned back to her mother, who still stood awestruck. “Goodbye,” she said softly, “Goodbye.” Freya stood at the foot of the rainbow and turned her face heavenward. “I’m ready…I’m ready!”
Then the heavens truly opened. Raindrops fell from the sky. Huge, round drops that exploded as they hit the sand and splashed at Rachel’s feet. Rachel grinned and listened as the pitter-patter around her got louder and she lifted her head to the rain, letting it drench her face, and she swept back her hair and spread out her arms, and called. “Freya, I’m here…under your rainbow!” Then Rachel stared through the curtain of rain and her heart skipped and she trembled and her breath caught in her throat, and nothing could move her, and she stared in disbelief at the girl who stood beneath the rainbow.
Rachel could not blink, or breathe, or stir, as she beheld a young woman, a girl with long, brown hair and green eyes, a girl who was so beautiful that Rachel’s heart stood still. A girl who could be no one but her daughter…
Rachel blinked and Freya moved on, just a breath away.
It was the willow that Freya was drawn to. She wandered through her bluebells, moving instinctively. As she left the shade of her old gnarled woodland, she was conscious of the souls she was leaving behind, but their joy infused her, and she drifted on.
Diamond-encrusted grass, heavy with dew, bathed her feet as she walked, and bluebells sprang up through the greensward with every step, creating a carpet of blue trailing behind her.
Freya, charged with heady invigoration, sensed the change within and knew she was no longer an awkward seven-year-old. Her long legs carried her tall and strong, and feminine grace abounded. Her girly dress, once decorated with stars and ribbons had lengthened, and fit like a gossamer glove. Its lilac hue shimmered then faded into the purest white and Freya’s hair glistened and hung about her shoulders, framing the face of a beautiful young woman.
The sky above was azure and gold and familiarity seeped through Freya’s veins. Light immersed the landscape growing stronger all the time and Freya danced towards her willow’s trembling boughs. Its feathery leaves, bleached by the surrounding brilliance, tickled Freya and she giggled then paused, almost bursting with excitement.
“Are you ready?” An ethereal, but melodious and gentle voice drifted through the light and a surge of energy suffused Freya.
“I made rainbows…” she replied.
The light brightened as if in answer and a play of light beckoned her. Freya hurried on as the willow’s boughs parted and her soul awoke. Every sense in her body was heightened and exquisite. “I’m ready,” she affirmed and was immediately swallowed up into the most brilliant radiance, and Freya felt as though she were one with every living soul. Then the brilliance faded and Freya found herself alone wandering through a misty meadow. She glanced around, her gown wafting in the cool breeze. She twirled several times, enjoying the sensation of harmony, and then a voice broke her reverie.
“Freya…”
She turned to see a man with piercing blue eyes and tawny brown hair, standing to her rear. He laughed and his laugh made her feel warm inside.
“Am I your assignment?” she asked with a smile.
“Not this time,” he replied pushing his floppy hair out of his eyes.
Jake took her hand and she perceived his soul.
“I’m ready,” she told him.
He smiled.
Freya’s eyes were suddenly alert. “Thomas!” she exclaimed.
“Let’s go.” Jake nodded. “You have a promise to keep.”
And with that they were gone…just a breath away.
The End
Lisa began weaving intricate stories inside her imagination from a young age, but these days her words find themselves bursting forth in the forms of flash fiction, short stories, and novels.
She was born and raised in vibrant Brighton, England, and living by the ocean heavily influenced her lyrical and emotional writing. She works with the senses, description and colour, and her readers will easily visualise the narrative. A wife and mother, Lisa draws inspiration from family life, faith, memory, and imagination. Lisa lives in Carmarthen, West Wales, another town rich in legend and lore.
Visit the author at:
www.lisashambrook.com
www.bhcpress.com
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