Enchantment

by Pati Nagle

  “A dream is communication. Like your telephones. It doesn’t require physical presence.”

  “Oh. Do you even have a physical presence?”

  “Of course. It’s a lot more malleable than yours, but it’s real.”

  “What do you really look like?”

  “Whatever you want to see. The Schrödinger analogy is a good one.”

  He moved closer to her, taking her in his arms. She thought she heard a faint sound of water rippling as she laid her head on his shoulder.

  “My mom likes you.”

  “I like her, too.”

  “I still want to make love with you.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

  “To make love? In a dream?”

  “No.” He dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. “To ask you not to come to the spring tonight.”

  She pushed back to look at him. “Why?”

  “Lots of reasons. One is that I don’t want to be the cause of trouble between you and your family.”

  “I want you to be my family.”

  He smiled sadly. “I wish I could promise that, but my survival is too uncertain. I’ve thought about this a lot, Holly, because I want you every bit as much as you want me. But if I’m not going to be around, then I don’t want to have caused a rift between you and your parents. Do you see?”

  Why did he have to be right about this? She buried her face in his shoulder.

  “Another reason is that I don’t want your memories of me to be tainted with desperation,” he said. “If we made love because we thought this was our only chance, I don’t think it would be as joyous as it should be.”

  “So I should die a virgin?”

  She felt him smile—proof this was a dream, because she wasn’t looking at him. His smile felt like the sun dawning; warm and golden.

  “You won’t die, Holly. I might, but you won’t.”

  “That’s pretty funny coming from you, water dude. You’re how old again?”

  “All things pass eventually.”

  Why did it have to be now?

  She felt her throat tightening with tears. If you cried in a dream, did you still get red eyes and a stuffy nose?

  Stupid thought. She turned her attention to him instead.

  “Ohlan, do you know the future?”

  “I’m pretty good at guessing it.”

  “But you don’t know.”

  “No.”

  She hugged him tighter. “Then you don’t know I won’t die.”

  “I’m asking you not to.”

  She froze. He was a good guesser.

  “You have a beautiful life ahead of you, Holly. I’d hate to be the thing that brought it to an end.”

  “But without you—“

  “Still beautiful. Trust me on this.”

  “I don’t want to live without you.”

  “Love comes in many forms. Give some of the others a chance.”

  She looked at him, not liking the way this sounded like a goodbye. She tried to memorize his face. The photos she’d taken were good, but they didn’t capture the spark of joy that was his essence.

  “Which of your loves was the best?” she whispered.

  He grinned. “Too easy. The latest one.”

  “Why aren’t you angry that you might be dying?”

  “What good would anger do?”

  He kissed her, first on her cheeks, then on her throat, making her moan with desire. He raised his head to look at her.

  “I’m just happy to have had you in my life, Holly. A much better ending than fading away alone, unconscious.”

  “Most people think that’s a good way to die.”

  “But it’s not a good ending. Not for me. My existence is about caring for others.”

  “Aren’t you ever selfish?”

  “Ah … I don’t think I can be. It’s how I’m made.”

  She leaned her head back to gaze at him. His eyes were soft, filled with love. Glowing.

  “Yeah. That’s you.” She hugged him tighter, nuzzling against his neck. “Well, I’m selfish. I want you to stay with me.”

  “If I can I will.”

  “Forever. I mean, all my life. I don’t care if I’m a crippled old lady, I want you to still love me.”

  “I will.”

  If you’re here.

  “Just wait a little, all right?” he said. “We’ll know soon.”

  “I don’t want to wait. I want you now.”

  “Shh.”

  He kissed her. Holly kissed back, hungry for more. She’d settle for making love in a dream if that was all she could get.

  Ohlan kept it gentle, answering her eagerness with soft, sweet kisses all over her face. It made her ache for more, but it also made her stop and pay attention. Maybe he was right that desperation would spoil it. He kissed her eyelids, making her close them.

  “This is better,” he said, his voice soft and husky in her ear. “Besides, you don’t want to get wet.”

  “Hmm?”

  A heavy crash made her sit up, gasping.

  In her room, on her bed, alone. It was dim. Disoriented, she wondered if she’d slept through dinner, then a rumble of thunder explained why she’d woken. Rain was battering the window and the roof.

  “Oh.”

  Funny, Ohlan. Yeah, she’d have gotten wet riding up to the spring and back, even if he could keep her dry while she was there.

  If he wasn’t so wonderful, it would be really annoying that he was right all the time.

  She got up and went to the window, looking out at the rain. Usually she loved rainstorms, but this one made her sad. Was the world weeping for the loss of a water guardian?

  She shook her head. He wasn’t gone yet, and she wasn’t going to give up. She’d honor his wishes and stay home tonight, but she was sure as hell going up to the spring tomorrow.

  ~ 16 ~

  She left early for school. Mom and Dad hadn’t said anything about the grounding, and she hadn’t asked. She didn’t really care any more. Ohlan mattered more to her than parental rules, sorry. Also more than school.

  She sat through her morning classes in growing restlessness. When the bell sounded for lunch, she couldn’t bear the thought of sitting around with her friends.

  She’d had enough. She’d tried to wait. She just couldn’t take any more.

  She shoved her pack in her locker and headed for the bike racks. The midday sun was hot on her shoulders. She pumped up Mountain Loop from the north side, the side nearest school, glad that she wouldn’t have to pass her street.

  The first shock came when she reached the trailhead. The big sign had been updated with a yellow and black “CLOSED” sign. A large barrier of orange striped sawhorses and yellow tape stood across the trailhead.

  A white pickup truck with toolboxes all around and a flatbed trailer hitched behind was sprawled across the half-dozen parking spaces. The bike rack had been uprooted and lay in the bed of the truck. Seeing it there made her angry and a little frightened. She hauled her bike up the hill a few paces and chained it to a small pine tree.

  Something heavy had driven up the trail—the tracks had torn up the ground a bit. Too small to be a truck, and the trail was too narrow for one in a lot of places anyway—but it could have been an ATV. Holly frowned as she started up the hill.

  She’d come to think of this as her place, and she resented the intrusion of the contractors, even though she knew the trail would be better for their work. She could let that happen, but she couldn’t let them destroy the spring.

  Too steep to run, but she hiked as fast as she could. In a couple of places the trail had already been altered; some rocks that had made going rough had been dug up and rolled aside, and in one place smashed apart. Her dread grew at the sight, and though her lungs were starting to burn she strode faster.

  As she neared the glen, she heard the sound of a generator. Wrong; that sound didn’t belong in her private sanctuary. Her world was being torn apart.

 
Heart pumping, she arrived at the glen and saw a mess. She’d been right about the ATV—it was parked by the bush where the squirrel had been recuperating. Her rush of fear for the animal’s sake was surpassed by the sight of the spring.

  A large hose was snaked into the concrete coffin, attached to a big pump that was sucking the water out and spilling it down the hillside. The water was down about a third. Holly gasped.

  Ohlan?

  No sign of him. Maybe he was taking the squirrel to safety. She hoped that was it.

  The generator was only powering the pump at the moment, but there was a big thing she suspected was a jackhammer on the back of the ATV. Two men—a wiry Hispanic guy and a sandy-haired Anglo, both wearing hard hats—were lounging beside it, talking and leaning on sledgehammers. They looked up at her.

  “Hey, the trail’s closed,” said the Anglo. “You’re not supposed to be up here. It’s dangerous.”

  Holly swallowed, then stepped up beside the spring. She glanced in the water, hoping to see Ohlan, but she saw only the hose.

  “You can’t destroy the spring.”

  The men exchanged a glance. The sandy-haired guy left his hammer and came toward her.

  “Look, sorry, but we’ve got a job to do. You’re going to have to leave.”

  She backed against the coffin, shaking her head. Her fingers brushed the edge of the concrete. Her heart was pounding.

  “Don’t make us call the cops, kid.”

  The Hispanic guy already had a cell phone in his hand, watching. This was not going well; she should have arranged for some kind of publicity. If she just got arrested and hauled away, she wouldn’t have done any good.

  The sandy-haired guy came closer. Holly sat down on the coffin, gripping it with both hands.

  The guy frowned, then sighed. “OK, what’s your name?”

  She didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk to him; either of them.

  “I’m Tony,” he said. “What’s the big deal? This is just an old lump of concrete.”

  Holly pressed her lips together. She wasn’t going to convince him, so why bother trying?

  The worker walked back to his friend, who was talking on the cell phone. Holly bit her lip, then slid one hand down the inside of the coffin, reaching for the water. She leaned sideways and her fingertips just brushed it.

  Ohlan?

  Holly, go home!

  She caught herself on a sob. Didn’t want the workers to think she was totally crazy. She looked down, glancing sidelong into the water. All she could see was the hose, coiled like a snake.

  Where are you?

  I’m safe. Please, go home. It’ll be all right.

  Her throat tightened. No, it won’t!

  The sandy-haired guy was coming back. Holly straightened and grabbed hold of the coffin’s edge again.

  “The police are on their way. If you leave before they get here, you won’t be arrested.”

  “Thanks.”

  She didn’t move. The worker squatted a few feet away, looking up at her.

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “What are you after?”

  “Saving the spring.”

  “That thing? It’s an old broken-down concrete box. It’s going to disintegrate anyway.”

  She swallowed. “It’s important. Historically.”

  “You know, the Forest Service studied all of that. They spent a lot of money deciding what to do.”

  Holly looked away. She probably knew more about the Forest Service’s studies than this guy did. Pointless to argue.

  He tried a few more times to get her talking, but she kept her mouth shut. She was not going to let herself be coaxed away. She would stand by Ohlan if it was the last thing she did.

  Before long—way too soon—she heard footsteps hurrying up the trail. A cop showed up at the edge of the glen, out of breath. The worker stood and backed away.

  The cop was older, maybe her dad’s age. He walked slowly toward her.

  “What’s the problem?”

  Holly looked at the ground. Took a firmer grip on the coffin.

  “She says she wants to save the spring,” the worker said.

  The cop glanced at him, then back at Holly. He came closer, stopped right in front of her. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. The government has a contract with these gentlemen. You can’t interfere.”

  Holly stared at the cop’s knees. Her breath was short, and she knew her pulse was racing.

  “Sweetheart, you have to move aside.”

  She glared up at him. “I’m not your sweetheart!”

  The cop sighed. “Don’t make me remove you, OK? Just stand up and step away.”

  Holly shook her head, biting her lip. She was gripping the coffin so hard her fingers were going white.

  The cop took hold of her elbow. She jumped up, wrenching her arm out of his grasp, and ran around the coffin, putting it between them. She stood there, panting, staring at the cop.

  “Look, don’t do this. You really don’t want to do this,” he said. “You look like a nice kid. You don’t want to go to jail.”

  “You don’t have a clue what I want!”

  And if she hadn’t already convinced him she was nuts, that would do it. She saw him reach for his belt and a surge of terror went through her, but he just took out his radio.

  She only half heard what he said into it; she caught “female officer” and “disorderly.” Beyond the cop, the two workers were watching, sledgehammers in hand. They were going to smash the spring the moment she stepped away from it.

  She couldn’t let that happen. She wished she’d thought of a way to chain herself to the spring or something, but it was too late.

  The cop put away his radio. “OK, kid. I’m sorry, but you’re out of time.”

  He started around the spring toward her. Holly moved away, but she knew it was hopeless. He’d catch her, with the help of the backup he’d called for.

  Standing at the foot of the spring, where she’d first seen Ohlan, she had only one thought. If she couldn’t protect the spring, she’d go down with it.

  The cop’s muscles tensed. He was going to grab for her.

  “No!” Holly screamed, and she flung herself into the coffin.

  ~ 17 ~

  Something exploded. A blinding white light filled her vision, then she felt herself sinking.

  Sinking. Until gentle arms reached up to catch her.

  “Holly. Oh, Holly.”

  Ohlan cradled her, repeating her name in a heartbroken voice. It was dark where they were. Drifting, or floating—it felt like being underwater but she seemed to be breathing as usual.

  Gradually, she became aware of globes of soft light glowing nearby, hanging in clusters like bubbles in seaweed, each surrounded by its own glowing aura of green, gold, or blue. They were lovely, calming. She felt calm for the first time in days.

  She tried to move, tried to talk, but she couldn’t. Her body wasn’t obeying her. Still, lying in Ohlan’s arms was the best place to be. She was content.

  I love you, Ohlan.

  That seemed to make him sadder than ever. I’m sorry I failed you.

  Just hold me. That’s all I want.

  He held her. She drifted through memories, through dreams, through all the fears of recent days. None of them frightened her now. She was still worried, in a vague way, that things weren’t right. As long as she was with Ohlan, though, she didn’t care.

  She wanted to talk to him, but even forming a thought made her tired. It was better to lie still, safe in his arms.

  She slept, perhaps—or just drifted in and out of consciousness. Every time she became aware that she’d lost track of where she was, momentary panic filled her until she realized Ohlan’s strong arms were still beneath her, supporting her.

  After a long time—hours or days, she couldn’t tell—she felt something pulling her upward. Her weight wasn’t lying on Ohlan’s arms any more; she was floating, buoyant.

  Ohlan?

  I’m he
re.

  His arms closed around her. They continued to move upward together.

  Where are we going?

  You’re going home.

  You can’t come with me. She remembered that, from before. Anger filled her suddenly, along with dread. I don’t want to go!

  She felt his arms loosen, letting her go. She tried again to reach for him but her body didn’t answer.

  Ohlan!

  I love you, Holly. I’ll always love you.

  She flew upward, and the white light flooded her being, burning away everything else.

  ~

  Dizzy. There were sounds—a humming, and faraway voices.

  “Did she move?” said a much louder voice, so loud it hurt.

  “She’s coming around. Give her a minute.”

  That voice wasn’t familiar. The first voice had been. She tried to remember why.

  Strange smells distracted her. Smells like someone had been cleaning and hadn’t been entirely successful. She frowned, and that hurt too.

  Someone took hold of her hand. She thought about that for a while. It wasn’t Ohlan—his hands were bigger. Finally she decided to look and see who it was. She opened her eyes.

  “Holly! Oh, thank God!”

  She blinked, trying to focus. Eyes blurry. Voice familiar. Bits of understanding swirled in her head and then settled.

  “Mom?”

  Mom exploded into tears, hugging her sort-of, except that Holly was lying in a bed. Not her bed.

  The other person gently got Mom to let her go. Holly blinked, trying to focus on her face: a pretty, Hispanic face. Not familiar. Wearing hot pink scrubs.

  She was in the hospital? She’d been with Ohlan …

  The nurse handed Mom a box of tissue, then turned to Holly. “I’m Silvia. You’ve had a concussion. Do you remember how it happened?”

  The last thing that happened before her dreams was diving into the concrete coffin. Holly nodded, then winced at the stab of pain in her forehead.

  “You’re a very lucky girl. It could have been much worse.”

  Holly tried to swallow and realized her throat was dry. “Could I have some water?” she said. It came out as a croaking whisper.

  Sylvia poured some waster into a plastic cup with a straw in it and held it in front of Holly’s face. She reached up to take hold of it and discovered her arms were weak and shaky. Sylvia wrapped her hands around the cup and steadied it while she drank.