Timeless (ForNever)

by Rosaline Saul

  Timidly I reply, “A colour and cut.”

  “Have you chosen a style?”

  “Not yet. I want it short though.”

  She offers, “We have this new thing. I can scan your face into our computer and then we can choose a style to suit your face.” She sees me hesitate, so she continues, “It is not expensive.”

  I decide to splurge. I have a good excuse anyway to be going on this rebellious emergency-spending spree.

  She takes a digital photo of me and then she uploads it to her computer. Together we look for the perfect hairstyle to match my soon to be pitch-black hair. She colours my hair black on the screen and I realize it is a bit harsh and it will take a while for me to get used to it, but my mind is made up. My hair will be black when I leave this salon.

  Short will definitely not suit me though, so we decide to only cut it shorter so the tips will brush my shoulders.

  Angie, the girl cutting and colouring my hair is chatty and I enjoy the hour plus one I am stuck in the salon with her.

  My hair looks beautiful when she is finished. It hangs dead straight, shiny black past my cheeks and barely touches my shoulders. I move my head from side to side and I love the way it moves. I feel a renewed sense of self-confidence.

  When I pay, I cringe a little, anticipating my future troubles concerning this credit card bill.

  I smile brightly when I walk out of the shop. It already feels as if I can take on the world. It is amazing what a new hairstyle can do for a person’s mood. I must definitely do it more often.

  Impulsively, I decide to walk from the mall to the centre of the village. I will go to my favourite coffee shop and select the biggest slice of chocolate cake they have. I usually always eat their delicious Lasagne, but I predict from now on Lasagne will always leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

  I walk out of the mall and notice the grey clouds have moved on; the sky is clear again. I consider taking off the unsightly jacket, but I am not sure what to do with my shopping bags. I do not want to put them down onto the still wet paving.

  Outside the mall, I walk onto the pedestrian bridge, which crosses the Boyne River and is my shortest route into the village. Looking down, I see the grey, dark water swirling past under my feet. The bridge is always crowded with people, so I look back up to avoid unnecessary impacts and rude mutters from the other people.

  On my way to the coffee shop, I stop at the school uniform shop and I buy myself a new school skirt, a longer version of the one I have at home.

  Eventually, I reach the noisy hustle and bustle of the coffee shop. I go to the counter and pick the fattest slice of cake. The chocolate cake is sold out, so I settle for vanilla instead. I ask the girl behind the counter for a large coffee as well. With my arms pushed into the carry handles of my shopping bags, I carry my food on a tray and then I navigate the stairs carefully. I go up to the next level and I pick a table by the window so I can look down on the people hurrying past.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jayden decides to walk into the village. Kieran left early to go to school, and he is bored with the only three channels on the TV.

  While he walks through the narrow streets, Jayden wonders if they let Kieran into school and if they accepted him as a student there. Although Kieran is only sixteen years old, the wisdom and insight, which you only acquire after many, many years of living, shine brightly in his eyes. The things his eyes have seen make them look older than the sixteen years he is. Many times, he himself has caught a dull glint in his own eyes, which would not fit a typical eighteen-year-old boy.

  According to Kieran, a person can find anything on Google, so with the help of this search engine he is sure they will find a way to stop this going-in-circles continuously. He cannot bear it anymore that Heather has never reached the age of seventeen. Her life always stops at sixteen. Her soul must be so tired by now, and the only way Jayden could possibly make his decision of not convincing her to love him worthwhile, is to make sure she ends up happy. History has proven again and again that she will not choose him, so what would the use be of trying?

  He walks through the village and then he starts to cross the pedestrian bridge toward the modern mall on the other side of the river. He imagines he sees her, but he dismisses the idea. How many times before has his mind fooled him with a vision of her? He continues looking at the girl walking toward him, and then as she comes closer, she looks at him for a brief moment. Immediately he recognizes her. She looks different, but he recognizes her eyes—the windows into her soul.

  His eyes light up and a grin tucks at the corners of his mouth. He stops and holds onto the railing of the bridge. As she walks past him, he turns and leans with his back against the barrier. He watches her walk away and a small smile curls his lips amused. She looks pretty with her black hair-do. He wonders if Kieran even recognized her with that pink jacket and midnight black hair. Her grey-blue eyes are still the same though, and her rosy cheeks are flushed from the cold wind.

  He wants to follow her. He wants to start a conversation with her, the urge so strong it pushes him away from the railing. He takes a few steps and then he remembers he is not supposed to do this. He is not supposed to get in the way of Heather’s future, the possibility that this time she could eventually turn seventeen. He made a promise to Kieran.

  He starts to feel as if he is losing against fighting to go after her, so he breathes in deeply, and no longer in the mood to buy anything, he walks back the way he came through the centre of the village and he goes home. He has always only endured his existence in the times when she has been somewhere else other than living.

  When he gets home, he climbs up the stairs to his room. Irritated, he looks around the room. Typical of Kieran to choose the bigger room and now Jayden is stuck with the box room.

  He pulls his laptop from the heap of clothes in the corner of his room, and then flopping down onto the bed, he opens the computer. Clicking on the Internet icon, Google automatically loads as his home page. He types ‘Curses’ and clicks the search button.

  He is working his way methodically through the links, when he hears the door open downstairs. He calls, “I hope you brought dinner.”

  “I did. Chinese.”

  Jayden grunts as he moves the laptop aside and gets up off the bed. He is sick of Chinese, but he is hungry, so he goes downstairs to the kitchen anyway.

  In the kitchen, he looks at Kieran for a moment, taking in his dark mood. “I take it things didn’t go as you planned.”

  “She was not at school today, and I stayed there all day in case she would come. After school, I even walked all the way to her house. Nothing.”

  “Maybe she decided to take the day off.”

  Kieran sighs frustrated. “I said she was not at home.”

  Shocked Jayden glances up from the brown paper bag and stops searching its contents to see what Kieran bought. “You knocked at her door?”

  “I did. I do not know what is wrong with me. I need to see her.”

  Amused Jayden wonders, “If she had opened the door, what would you have said?” Kieran shrugs, while Jayden continues, “You should really learn to be patient, brother.”

  Not sure if he should mention it, Jayden takes a container from the bag and walks toward the lounge. He says casually over his shoulder, “I saw her today.”

  Kieran stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

  Jayden turns toward him, and he smiles. “I said, I saw her today.”

  “When? How? Did you speak to her?”

  “Today. I walked past her. No.”

  Kieran takes a container from the bag and then following Jayden into the lounge, he sits down on the chair. “I don’t understand.”

  Jayden smiles amused. “She probably just took the day off. She didn’t know of your plans, you know.”

  “I know. What does she look like?”

  Jayden starts, “She is, um.” He almost says beautiful but considers after their agreement it is probably not such a good ide
a. He finishes his sentence, “Pretty.”

  Kieran frowns deeply as he puts a fork full of food in his mouth.

  Jayden leans back onto the couch. “This couch stinks. When are we going to get a new one?”

  Distracted Kieran says, “Whenever you want.”

  Jayden flips through the same three channels and irritated Kieran insists, “Just choose one, will you?”

  Jayden looks back at Kieran, his eyes intense as he looks at him. “Hey, are you jealous?”

  “No. Just upset.”

  “I googled curses and spells today.”

  “And?”

  “About one seven two oh thousand results in zero point two eight seconds.”

  “Anything we can use?”

  “I did find a Lemon Uncrossing spell, which is guaranteed to break any curse. I do not know what Dragon’s blood is though, so I’ll have to look it up later.”

  “Maybe you should be more specific in your search, rather than searching curses and spells. This curse is genuine, and I am sure cannot be broken with a lemon.”

  “Do not forget the dragon’s blood.”

  Kieran grumbles unhappily, “I suppose we can try it, what harm can it do?”

  Jayden smiles faintly. “There you go. You get to know Heather tomorrow at school and then we can ask her to perform a curse breaking ceremony with us. By the way, her hair is as black as the night.”

  Kieran exclaims, “Black? Since when?”

  Jayden laughs. “I don’t know since when, but it is black.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  I go to school in Balbriggan, at the Community College. We used to live here and moved to Drogheda two years ago. We move a lot. My friends are all there so my parents agreed I could finish my schooling in the same school. Looking at a map of Ireland it will look as if I travel across two counties just to get to school, but in fact it really only takes about twenty minutes by train, on a good day.

  My mom usually leaves early for work, before I even drag myself out of bed, so this morning I decide to take advantage of the early morning stillness of my house.

  In my pyjamas, I go downstairs and then through the kitchen out the back door into our little back garden. Summer is not here yet, but there are a few early bloomers popping their heads out from the shrubs surrounding our patch of grass. I look for a bunch of yellow flowers. I cannot be fussy because I do not have many flowers to choose from, so I pick a few which have opened completely.

  I go back inside the house, wiping the early morning dew off my feet vigorously before I step onto the biscuit coloured tiles decorating our kitchen floor.

  Back upstairs, I rummage through the immersion closet for the large yellow circular tablecloth. My mother likes to pack all her linens and towels in here on the shelves above the immersion.

  I get the little glass jar of St. John’s Wort Oil from the bathroom cabinet. Celtic Tribes saw the plant called, St. John’s Wort as a symbol of the sun’s healing and life-giving powers, because of its bright, yellow flowers. This plant is considered as a king amongst magical plants and it protects against negative influences.

  Walking back to my room, I cradle everything in my arms while I make sure not to bruise the yellow flowers. I put the flowers and the miniature glass jar on my dresser. The large yellow tablecloth billows over my head as I shake it open and I lay it down on the floor in the centre of my room. I pick up the glass jar from my dresser and I pull the cork stopper out effortlessly. Standing back, I sprinkle a few drops of the blood-red oil onto the tablecloth. I lean sideways, keeping my feet still and pull two yellow candles from my nightstand, next to my bedside lamp. Holding it carefully, I rub a few drops of the oil onto the candles. I step onto the tablecloth and then I sit down cross-legged in the centre. Reaching up to my dresser, I pull the bunch of flowers down. I remove two perfect blooms from the bundle and then after dividing the remainder of the flowers into two bunches, I place a bunch of flowers on each side of me, at the edge of the cloth.

  I light the two candles and then I place one at the edge of the cloth behind me, and I place the other candle at the edge of the cloth in front of me.

  Picking up the two perfect blooms lying on the cloth by my knees, I hold them in the upright palm of each of my hands. I look at the candle ahead of me, and I stare into the flame, focusing all my attention on that tear-drop shape of yellowy orange.

  I chant softly, “Oh healing light, surround me now, relieve my spirit’s darkest hour.”

  As I chant the line repeatedly, I imagine the scented light being drawn from the candles into the flowers on my palms. From the flowers, I imagine that same light permeates my whole body. It moves up my arms, through my chest, and then splits to go up to my head and down to my lower body.

  I am supposed to do this for twenty minutes, but the neighbour’s dog starts yapping and no matter how hard I try to focus on that light, my mind cannot block out the incessant barking. I put the flowers down next to me again and as I stand up, it does feel as if some of the melancholy falls away from me—not all of it though.

  After I blow out the candles, I put them back on my nightstand, together with all the other multiple coloured candles. I bundle the yellow tablecloth into the washing basket and decide to leave the oil on my dresser as I notice the time.

  It is time to get ready for school.

  WHILE WALKING TO THE train station, I see an empty patch of grass and I throw the two perfect blooms into the long grass. Giving them back to nature will complete the spell I tried to weave this morning to revitalize my spirits.

  The station is plus minus a mile from the estate in which we live. It is okay, really, and most of the time I do not mind walking the distance, which I must do every morning, come rain, hail or snow.

  When I arrive in Balbriggan, Shannon is waiting outside the train station entrance for me, as always, and I walk toward her.

  When she notices me, she gasps loudly and puts her dainty fingers in front of her mouth. She says loudly, “My gawd, Heather. What have you done with your hair?”

  I bring my hand up to my hair self-consciously. “I felt like a change.”

  She looks me up and down. “And the nun outfit?”

  The new school skirt I am wearing covers my knees and my socks are pulled up over my knees. There is not a glimpse of white, pale flesh in sight. I look down uncomfortably. “The other one was too small.”

  She laughs loudly and then she stops abruptly. She leans into me and whispers softly, “Don’t look now, but the new boy just came walking out of the station.”

  I turn my head to look.

  She slaps me against the shoulder. “Gawd, Heather! I told you not to look.”

  I continue looking, even though her slap stings my arm. He looks at me as he walks down the few steps and it looks as if he is going to walk toward us. He has the greenest eyes I have ever seen, and they look right into me. He is so sun-tanned he looks out of place and his light hair is cropped short around his ears and the longer hair on top sits messy on his head, as if he just pulled his hand through it. He has full, light brown eyebrows; a perfect nose, a strong jaw and I notice a dimple in his chin. He looks like the perfect advertisement for summer and all things warm and fuzzy.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  He smiles faintly as he walks past me and I turn to look at him as he walks toward the little lane away from the station.

  Shannon exclaims, “He is so yummy! Did you see the way he looked at you?”

  I start walking toward the lane and I reply indifferently, “I am not interested.”

  She falls into step next to me. “You are kidding, right? When have you not been interested?”

  “Since yesterday.”

  “Out with it. Tell me.”

  “Ugh! My dad is moving out tomorrow. Actually, I think he moved out on Wednesday, but he will be fetching his things tomorrow, I suppose.”

  “Huh? When did this happen?”

  “Apparently for a while now, he has a new girlfriend.
”

  “You lie!”

  “No, I am not. It is the honest truth.”

  “I cannot believe it.” She looks at me concerned. “Are you okay though?”

  “It just made me wonder, what happened to their love? Where did it go?”

  “Ah, this is why you are pretending not to be interested in fresh meat.”

  I smile. “He is very handsome.”

  “He is. Maybe with him you can find out where the love went.”

  I scoff. “Shannon, I am serious! What is the use of falling for someone, and pledging your undying love if it is just going to disappear one day?”

  “My gran and grandpa have been married forever and the way they look at each other is embarrassing. So, it depends.”

  I sigh. “I suppose.”

  We walk through the gates on the main road into the school grounds and as we pass smoker’s alley, Dermot calls Shannon’s name.

  We stop and he comes loping toward us. He crushes the cigarette under his shoe when he stops in front of us. He bends down to Shannon, and he is about to give her a peck on her lips when she pushes him away. “Dermot, gawd you stink!”

  He smiles bashfully. “Sorry, my sugar.” He looks at me and greets me, “Hiya, Heather. You look different.”

  Shannon says mockingly, “Yes, eejit she cut and coloured her hair.”

  He looks at me approvingly. “It looks nice.”

  “Thanks.” My hand comes up to my hair again.

  He folds his hand around Shannon’s, and we walk through the parking area toward the school entrance.

  When we walk into the school building, Shannon and I walk to the bathrooms, as we always do, first thing every school day.

  As I wait for her while she uses the facilities, I glance at myself in the mirror. Without thinking, I reach for my lip-gloss in the front pouch of my bag. I lean closer to the mirror across the basin and smear the gloss onto my lips liberally. I smack my lips together as I push the gloss back into the pouch. I thought the new black hairstyle would be harsh, but I like it. It makes me look extra pale, almost fragile. It makes my watered-down grey eyes look bluer. I step away from the mirror and lean against the basin as I wait for Shannon.