Khayyam's Fall by Euclid K.She looked up. Up there, beneath a canopy of low, grey clouds, the wind plucked scarlet leaves from the outermost twigs on the trees, and touseled her hair as it descended to the ground with its catch. Up there, half obscured by the muted roar of the trees, she heard the voice she hadn't heard for nearly seven years. Deliberately, she drew a long, deep breath, and dropped it in a sigh as her eyes dropped down again to the carved stone nestled in faded grass and low cropped weeds near her feet. Seasons change and all things die; this she knew, and the promise of new life in the spring has hitherto never been broken. But that mattered little now. She could not break the final tie she felt. That is why both she and the stone stood there. Was memory so much more precious than the present moment? Perhaps it was time to leave. The wind was getting colder and the the sun was now painting the undersides of the clouds pale pink and purple from the only place it could pierce them--the horizon. She turned to descend the hill. As she descended the hill the wind picked up speed, and by the time she reached the foot of the hill it was practically pushing her across the old field toward her car. With difficulty she opened the door of the old, blue Ford, and clambered in as the wind slammed it shut behind her. It was time to go home. But the car would not start. She turned the ignition key again, but the car remained motionless and silent, save for the gentle rocking and whistling caused by the gale outside. She turned the key again. "Dead battery?", she mused, and frowned. She would have to spend the night there, then. It was twighlight, a storm was approaching, and it would take at least five hours to reach the main road on foot. She shrugged, then climbed into the backseat and unfolded a wool blanket she kept there for such occasions. Eyes closed, she listened to the storm bluster without for hours. She was about to fumble for her watch to check the time when there was a horrific crack of thunder. Her whole body tautened and her eyes snapped open. Where was the blanket? She scrambled to upright herself and nearly fell back into the front seat, as the car had tilted so far forward it felt as if it were balanced on its front wheels and fender. Nausea slapped her across the stomach. The stench filling her nose was much too familiar. Another flash of lightening revealed that the car was at rest on a very steep incline, the front end crumpled against the trunk of a huge, old tree, and slumped against the steering wheel was... "Jeremy!", she cried. She fell into the front seat and excitedly grabbed his right arm. "Jeremy! We have to get out! The tank split and we have to get out! Can you smell it?! Wake up! Wake up!!" She shook him. "Come on! We have to leave!" She shook him harder. "Come ON!" She jerked him away from the wheel. And the corpse stared back at her with cold, glazed eyes. She screamed. And lightening struck the tree. She woke up crying. Sweat trickling down her face, she kicked the blanket away and sat up. Heavy rain continued to drum on the roof and stream down the windows, while lightening continued to crack the black sky. That dream had returned. For months it repeated itself, and then for the past few months she had been free of it, but now it had returned. She would never sleep in peace again. She was sure of it. It surprised her, then, to open her eyes to a clear, pale blue sky. Not so much as a whisp of cloud could be seen. The field was a sodden mass of scarlet and orange leaves tangled in pale weeds, and a couple of small, broken branches rested on the hood, but otherwise the field was unchanged. And suddenly she noticed the air in the car was unbearably dead and musty. So she climbed out and stretched, and felt as though a hundred bugs were gnawing her away from the inside. More than anything she wanted eggs for breakfast, but she knew it would be afternoon before she reached the main road and even then the nearest place she could breakfast would be four miles away. Every moment of delay would keep breakfast that much farther away. So she turned to where the field melted into a beaten, dirt path and walked. She tried to not think of anything as she passed along the path through the woods. She looked up to the sky and bare branches, but her mind slipped back. She concentrated on the air's tang and a faint, persistent, murmuring breeze. But her mind slipped back. She shifted her attention to the fallen leaves, piled so deep on the path that the hem of her trenchcoat grazed them. And she stopped short. Something was wrong. Straining to hear, she looked around, but nothing seemed amiss. Cautiously she stepped forward, and the leaves crackled beneath her foot. But had it not rained last night? Had it not rained *hard*? Wide-eyed she looked up and down the path and realized that she had been wading through bone dry leaves. These were leaves that would burn easily. She pushed forward again, walking faster. A mile down the path the surrounding trees gave way to another clearing, whose far side boardered a steep valley lined with scarlet topped oaks and verdant evergreens. Facing the valley, a lone figure stood on the precipice. She approached it, and as she came near she saw the clothes were half burnt, the person's blond hair matted and badly singed, and already she could smell the odor of burnt skin. "Excuse me, but are you alright? What are you doing here?" The figure remained silent. "Can you hear me?" There was no response. Gently she reached out and turned him by the shoulder to face her. The sight of his face made her stomach crawl up into her throat. Then panic cracked its whip. And Khayyam ran. She ran wildly back through the clearing, but half way across her boot snagged on a root hidden beneath the leaves and she fell face first into them. Struggling to rise, she thrashed through the leaves but could not find the ground to push off of it. A pair of arms swiftly thrust through the leaves and grabbed her just under the shoulders, and quickly pulled her up to her feet. Sputtering and shaking she looked up the arms to the neck and to the face. And she fainted. When she awoke she was lying on a mound of leaves with her head resting in Jeremy's lap as he looked down into her face. He brushed a few leaves from her chest and smiled. "Ready to chat, now?" She shot upright and sat staring at him. The voice was his, as was the face and the pale, sun colored hair. But he was dead. This was another dream. "I guess not." Jeremy sighed. Except those eyes. She saw that his eyes had life in them as they watched her. With a hint of impatience he sighed again. "But you're dead!!", she shouted. He laughed. Angrily she reached out and pushed him backward into the leaves, and he laid there, still laughing. She glared as his laughter decayed to a giggle and then stopped when he turned to look at what she was doing. "That won't work, you know." She was pinching and clawing the back of her left hand. This had to end! She clawed harder. Her nails sunk into her skin and tore it as she raked the hand, but the sensation was more akin to an itch than pain. She stared at her hand. The grooves she tore were deep, but only the faintest itch could be felt. And no blood flowed. When she noticed this, a pale, watery fluid started to ooze from her hand. Her eyes widened. "Khayyam, please stop." She looked up. Jeremy was at her side, and he clasped her right hand and gently kissed it. "Please...just stop." She jerked her hand away and jumped to her feet. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked up at her, and she turned on her heels to leave. "How long can you keep this up?! How long are you going to deny what really happened? Why can't you accept...?" She started to walk away. His voice rose to nearly a scream. "Do you think I *like* this?? Can't you at least release _me_?! Why can't you let me go!? If you *must* carry on like this, can't you at least let *ME* go??" She turned to face him and froze. Jeremy, however, continued to rant. "You don't get it, do you!? We don't belong here, we belong there." He pointed to the valley. "I don't have any problem with that. But you! No, you have to knock around in this world of yours because you can't face up to what really happened, and on top of that you won't even let me explain even though you keep summoning me! You can spend the rest of eternity here if that's what you want, but I want to move on." Here he stopped. A sound, half gasp and half sob, rose up from her. They gazed at each other for a moment, and then rushed together and embraced. She wailed and sobbed while he gently rocked her, and a faint breeze picked up and stirred the leaves in the clearing. He whispered to her. "Would you like to go home, now?" She drew back slightly to look at his face. Could she finally go home? For a year after the wreck she had tried to find it, but it had vanished and nobody she met could help her find it again. She thought back; home vanished that day she woke up next to the marker stone on the hill, but could not remember how she had reached it. Since then she had wandered and stayed at hotels and the homes of strangers. She shuddered. How could he now be standing here, years later, nuzzling her hair? It made no sense. Yet if anyone could get her home, to where she really belonged, it was Jeremy. They had shared the same house for nearly a decade. And this was Jeremy. She was sure of it now. She nodded. He beamed and hugged her tightly. "You'll be happy to be home, believe me. It's nicer than here." With his arm across her back he turned and they slowly walked to the precipice. He shifted his arm off her back and held her hand. "Ready?" She looked at him quizzically. Rolling his eyes he heaved a deep sigh and pointed down. She looked down into the valley where he pointed and saw an isolated, tall, dead tree that had been shattered and gutted by fire long ago. It rose out of a steep incline and a blackened shell of a car was wedged on the lee side of the trunk. She nearly fainted. But Jeremy held her until her vision cleared and she could stand again. Dazed, she looked at him and then the tree again. "Do you understand, now?" She pursed her lips and shook her head. He squeezed her hand and smiled. "I know about the troubles you've had, the nightmares that come when you try to sleep..." She shot him a glance. "...But the conflict inside you is never going to go away until you come home. You don't understand because you don't want to. But we can take care of the whole problem on the way home, and by the time you get there you'll forget the whole thing." Khayyam started to look very uneasy. He hugged her again. "I've never lied to you before, and I won't start now. First we jump off here..." In a panic she pulled away. To jump was unthinkable; she could see it was a very long way down. Nobody could survive a jump like that. Jeremy was about to shout something when he suddenly brightened. "Look at the bottom more closely. See all those leaves? I've been down there before, and I know that pile is deep enough to break the fall. And I'm going to prove it to you." And he jumped. Horrified, she watched him plummet down into the valley until he was no larger than a matchbox, and then he disappeared in the leaves. About half a minute later he broke the surface of the pile and looked up to her, waving both arms and shouting something that was lost in the wind that was gaining strength and picking up the leaves around her. She wanted to join him but she did not want to jump. She paced a moment, and then flung herself into the chasm. Down she went, and the autumn wind whistled in her ears while she hurtled, arms outstretched, to the valley floor. Carried by the wind, a lone, crimson leaf fell from the top of the valley and finally came to rest on a pile of leaves on the valley's floor. euclid k. 30 November 1994 -- Euclid K. (euclid@mrcnext.cso.uiuc.edu) standard disclaimers apply If there's something you want me to respond to, e-mail at the above address. These days the reader eats posts faster than i read them..... |