by Mandi Lynn
“I don’t know,” I tell her. She seems disappointed by my answer.
“I’m dead.” She says the words so plainly. They seem to make no difference to her, but I see the wilt of her figure as she speaks. She’s dead. She’s dead, and she doesn’t understand how that has happened.
“Hadley,” I say, so she’ll look at me. She’s given up, that much I can see when she stares at me.
A dead and tired expression comes over her features, and she makes no attempt to hide her sadness.
“Essence. That’s the word for what we are. Not dead.”
“Essence,” she says, nodding her head.
She repeats the word silently to herself, convincing herself that she never died, but I can see it is a lost attempt. The more she runs over the word, the more I see her sink within herself.
“What does that even mean?” she asks quietly.
And the truth is I can’t answer her question, because I don’t know. There is so much to this life that I have yet to discover. Garren and I together were supposed to uncover its secrets and decode this concept of eternity, but I don’t even know where he is. Instead I’m lost with this girl who has somehow found herself trapped within this same eternity I am in.
So I let Hadley know the truth. “That’s what I’m trying to discover.”
~~~
Hadley spends each night with her back to the lagoon. Instead of looking at the water as it reflects the moon, she watches the path she had traveled to get here. With a stillness I will never possess, she maintains a constant watch over the trees of the forest. She doesn’t mutter a word. I watch her, waiting for some change, but it never comes.
“Hadley?”
She turns to me quickly, responding to her name, and smiles before returning her attention to the trees again. Her arms are wrapped around her legs as they have been every night since she has arrived here.
I can’t say exactly how much time has passed, because it all blends so effortlessly.
“Have you ever loved someone?” she asks suddenly. Her voice is soft, like she’s afraid of the words she speaks.
I come beside her to sit on the ground. Our skirts pool around us in a dirty heap. If we were human, we would never let such clothing touch the ground, but as an Essence the fabric’s beauty doesn’t matter anymore.
“I didn’t know it at the time,” I tell her.
She turns to look at me. “What do you mean?” Her face is so young, so innocent, and it is amazing that she finds the ability to speak of love.
“There was a man. I think he taught me what love was. And I didn’t realize this until he was gone.”
“What happened?” Hadley’s face softens. Her eyes shine a bit at the promise of a story—a love story.
I smile despite myself. It creeps over my lips, and the memories are pleasant rather than hurtful reminders that love is something so hard to obtain and grasp. “I don’t know what happened. I discovered there is more than what we can see in the world. Magic and stories and travel—it’s all very beautiful and dangerous. There was a man named Garren. We discovered an island called Tiboulain. In many ways it destroyed me, but it also saved me.”
Hadley turns her torso to look at the water behind us. As she comes to face me again, I watch her hand uncurl the stone in her palm—still green. “Was it the moon?”
She’s caught on fast. As the days have passed with her here, I’ve tried to explain this new world to her, expecting her to believe none of it, yet she has come so far with accepting the unimaginable. I watch the moon shining over us. The sun has just gone down, leaving a violet glow to the sky. The moon is nothing but a faint outline, but it is there.
“I believe it was the moon.”
“But you loved him? Garren?”
I smile. It’s the first time I’ve heard his name spoken by someone else. It shouldn’t make a difference, but it does. “I still do.”
“So what happened?” Her brow furrows.
All her attention is turned to me and I realize that, although she is a small adult in stature, she is still just a child. Her body is that of an adolescent with a tiny frame and bright eyes. She leans forward at my words as if this is all nothing but a fairy tale.
“We were something when we were together. Then we became separated, and it wasn’t until I no longer had Garren that I realized how much I needed him.”
“Did he love you?”
Her words hurt, and they shouldn’t. But the simple fact that Garren may not love me haunts me to the core.
Hadley sees this.
As I cower into myself, she too shrinks away for a moment, as if by providing me this space I may heal in a special way. But did he love me? I remember our time together. We cared for each other, but could he have loved me? He kissed me. On my forehead for comfort, but also his lips were against my own and for the first time since my human life, I had felt warmth and life—if only for a moment. Was that love?
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I shake my head, dispelling the thoughts. I try to smile at Hadley in order to let her know I hadn’t been hurt by the words.
“No, it was a good question. But I don’t know the answer.”
She stares at me with open eyes. An understanding is there. She holds my gaze for a long time before dropping her eyes to look at the stone in her hands. She hasn’t let it go—I don’t think she can. Whenever I see her remove it from her hands or let it rest on the ground, she is quick to pick it up again.
“I don’t know what love is, Luna,” she says. Her voice hints at sadness. There is a tug and pull in her emotions, the only way to read the confusion in her thoughts. “Valen—the boy who was supposed to meet me in the forest—he was supposed to be there that day, but he wasn’t. And I kept waiting. I waited for him to come through the trees and save me, but he never did. We always snuck away to see each other—we never got caught. I taught him how to dance, even though he dragged his feet too much. And sometimes I would sing to him, and he would just watch me—he’d never look away.”
I rest my hand on her shoulder and she looks up at me. She’s so young, but the hurt she feels now is the same I face every day when the sun rises without Garren or when the moon peeks through the clouds at night, yet I’m still alone.
“I still wait for Garren too,” I tell her. It doesn’t help Hadley to know that we all hurt the same or how that feeling never goes away—it just becomes bearable—but she seems to release some long-held tension in her body as she breathes now.
“Do you believe Garren will come for you?” she asks.
“Do you believe Valen will come for you?” I ask in return. It’s not a fair question. I know nothing of Hadley and Valen’s love story. For all I know, the love story was in Hadley’s imagination, but when I look at her I know that’s not true. Her stare carries a loss that only comes when love has been taken away. It leaves the face slack and lackluster; it disregards us, leaves us scarred and beautiful at the same time, because we’ve experienced something glorious.
“I want to believe he’ll come,” she says, “but I also fear it may be impossible.” Hadley stares at the greenery of the trees again, searching, always seeking the one thing she wishes for most, but it never comes.
“Then we’ll believe,” I say, but I don’t stay with her. In slow movements I pick myself off the ground and cross back to the lagoon. In the time that has passed, the sky has grown just dark enough for the moon to shine in the night. It reflects off the water, like it has every night, and I’m reminded that Garren is out there without me.
XLVIII.
Hadley leaves in the night. She fights the human habit that tells her to rest in the darkness. Instead I find her creeping away each nightfall. When the darkness comes, we always find our separate spaces. I reside near the lagoon, always looking to the sky at night, and Hadley finds herself drawn to the forest. We’re both able to disconnect ourselves from the reality around us, but whenever I glance at Hadley, I see the aching in her as sh
e leans forward from where she sits.
When the moon is highest in the sky, she always chooses to leave. Her parting is quiet and small—nothing more than a rustle of leaves as fall approaches. For a long time I didn’t notice her absence because I find sleep on peaceful nights, but I’ve found myself keeping watch now. She always comes back by the morning after I’ve already woken, speechless as to where she has been.
But tonight I stay awake, refusing to let the moon lull me into a sleep like it seems to do every sundown. Instead I watch Hadley from a distance as she sits on the grass near the trees far from the lagoon. Her face studies the woods as her fingers trail through the grass, picking away at the green growth.
Her body is still, the only movement coming from her fingers that constantly massage the grass. Hadley’s head lifts suddenly, looking up in the sky to where the moon shines in a small crescent. She picks herself up, brushing away any debris her skirt may have collected—and, just like that, she walks away without a glance over her shoulder.
I don’t stop her. I don’t feel as if I can. Instead I watch as she makes her quiet exit. Even in the dark I can see the stone she clutches in her hands. Her knuckles are tight in their grip, like she’s afraid she may drop it. It only takes a few more steps before the darkness encloses her and she is out of my sight.
~~~
I wake in the morning, and Hadley is already back at the lagoon. I don’t know when I had fallen asleep, but I find myself curled against the rocky shore of the lagoon. Hadley sits at the edge of water, running her fingers through the liquid. She watches the ripples that jump around her touch as she speaks.
“I’m going back to him,” she says.
I sit up and gather my skirt around me, wondering how she knew I had woken without looking.
“That’s where you go every night, isn’t it? You visit Valen.”
She simply nods her head. “I still love him, Luna,” she says. Her words are happy, and she speaks as if she wishes she could stop loving him to alleviate her heartbreak. “I watch him as he sleeps, and I find myself wanting to reach out and touch him, but I can’t.” Her small voice breaks as she says the words. Hadley doesn’t choose to look at me.
Her gaze bores into the water, concentrating on something other than the thoughts that plague her mind. “I’ve tried, but I pass through him. I’m nothing. I’m nothing to him.” Anguish reverberates off her. Hadley takes her hand from the water and wraps it around the green stone she can’t seem to let go of. Her body shakes in the small way it does when someone cries and can’t control their sobs.
“I know,” I say, but my words anger her.
“No, you don’t.” Her voice is angry, but also tired and worn—frustrated. “You don’t know love. I love Valen, and he loves me. If he can’t come for me, I’ll come to him.” Finally she turns to me. Her eyes open wide and clear, so sure of herself, so full of emotion she doesn’t know how to control.
I flinch and turn, unable to return her stare.
“I know what love is,” I say. I’m surprised by the strength in my voice. The words become clear and I walk away, leaving Hadley to stare at my back. But all too soon I feel my face drop like a mask, and the full effect of her words stings me.
“Hadley, you can’t return to that life,” I say, my back still facing her.
“Why?” she asks. Her voice is softer now, defeated. The anger has diminished, and it’s like she knows what I’m saying is true but isn’t willing to admit it yet.
I turn around when I speak to her. I see the hurt in Hadley’s eyes, how she is still crouched on the ground next to the lagoon. A corner of her dress has slipped into the water, but she doesn’t pay it any attention. Instead she looks in my eyes, like I can fix the world and make this nightmare end.
“You and I, Hadley, we’re not a part of this world anymore.”
Her face is broken. Small pieces of innocence and hope are torn away as she comes to terms with my words. Her eyes dim; her lips frown, but most of all, she detaches herself. I look at her and she looks at me, but I know if I speak to her again, she won’t hear me.
“But I love him,” Hadley says. Her face drops from my gaze.
Her hands wrap tighter around the stone in her palm, and I’m shocked by the white glow her knuckles take from the tension.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she tells me.
“I know,” I whisper. I step forward and bring her to me. She doesn’t protest as I take her in my arms, but I feel the wall she has built up against me. I no longer feel like the broken child. Instead I see this quality in Hadley. The young girl shakes in my arms, breaths coming quick as she cries without tears. Through her cries I feel a strength in myself, as if I may take away some of her burden.
It’s unfair. All of it is unfair. But she thaws in my arms. The rigidity of her limbs melts away, and she leans into me for support. The two of us lower to the ground. The pebbles of the lagoon surround us, and the world moves on without us. For this moment, we are here. Just the two of us as we sink into our sorrow, and I support Hadley and breathe for her, wishing only to make this life easier for her.
~~~
For what seemed like eternity, she sat in silence in my arms, just breathing and listening to the world unfurl around us. The sky grew dark, and once the moon shone bright in the sky, she left without permission or a parting word. Hadley just broke from my grip and walked away. She pushed from my arms and left. I couldn’t find it in myself to stop her—I knew what drove her motions. I also knew that if Garren were out there I would do the same.
The moon is still a crescent in the sky. Its glow is small, but it sparks the clouds to life. I can hear Hadley walking through the forest behind me. With every step leaves crunch or tree branches are disturbed.
The still water of the lagoon is in front of me. I bend forward and slip my leather shoes off my feet. They give and bend against my fingers. I wonder how long it will be until I’ll be forced to find new clothing, replacing the tattered dress Garren had given me when I first woke from the water of Tiboulain.
With sure steps I dip my feet in the water. I pick up the skirt of my dress so it doesn’t get wet, but as I go deeper and farther, I feel the tail of my skirt catch the water and drag behind me.
The pool glows with the moon, just enough to reflect on my skin, creating an eerie white glow of a ghost.
I ask the moon for solace and protection. For how much it has taken, I ask for something back. I stand in the waters of the lagoon and wish for peace within this world. I don’t ask for eternity to be taken away, because I know it is a wish that can never be fulfilled. Instead I ask for some way to make this easier. To make moving on somehow possible, to separate our world from theirs.
I know this is selfish. I know I’m taking yet another thing from Hadley, but I also know this will be what she needs, even if it’s not what she wants. Yet at the same time, I know this will not only keep Hadley in the lagoon, but me as well. Doing this takes away my ability to search for Garren, but I will not let Hadley suffer or leave her to the lagoon alone.
The water opens around me; the moon shines above me, and I ask that somehow Hadley will never escape into the night again.
But maybe, just maybe, none of this will work.
XLIX.
Hadley returns. She sits silently at the edge of the lagoon, content in her loneliness. I watch as she toys with the stone in her hand, passing it back in forth through her fingers, holding it over the water like she is tempted to throw it from her grasp forever—but she never does.
“You loved Garren?” she asks quietly. I don’t answer so she turns to look at me. “Did you?”
Her eyes are wide, and I see now how much of a child she is, how little she has seen, but when she speaks she tells a different tale. Her words bring years of not wisdom, but knowledge—knowledge that no child should have to face.
“Of course,” I say.
She smiles. “So this is hurting you as much as it’s hurtin
g me?” She pulls her fingers around the stone and brings her hand to her chest, exactly where her heart is.
Her lips waver and I know if she were human, tears would be streaking down her cheeks in a cascade of emotions.
I come to her, sitting along the pebbled beach. “I look at the moon each night, thinking that Garren may be seeing the same thing I do. That, somehow, our sharing the same sights will bring us back together. I’m always hoping he may come, but I’m not so sure that will happen.”
Hadley watches me. My words make her lips turn down, but I see something change in her eyes. She’s no longer saddened by her own loss, but mine.
“But if he loves you, he’ll find a way to come.”
I want to believe her, but then I think of all that I have done to Garren and how it is possible he may have forgotten me—I don’t even know how long ago it was when I first got onto that merchants’ boat. Garren took away my human life for his own gain—to hopefully save his sister. And I don’t know if all that time we had grown close to each other was simply because we were the only two Essences left in the world.
“Does love die?” Hadley asks suddenly.
She seems frustrated with her own words. In a way it seems she wants them to be true so she can let go of Valen and move on, but it’s the clutch of her fingers that tells me she hopes love never dies—that’s not how it’s supposed to work.
“I suppose time will be the one to tell us.”
She brushes away my words like I had never even spoken.
“I don’t want to love him anymore, Luna. It hurts too much.” The syllables come out rushed and slurred together. She stumbles upon her words, and a constant tremble moves through her limbs.
