Finding Eden (3 page)

I try to get closer. My
dream has taken an extremely odd turn and since this is my dream I
was going to find out why.

Taking a few steps
forward, I try to not take my eyes off the three men. I don't want
them to disappear. Then as I'm about to open my mouth to shout at the
three men, a sudden noise ripples through the silence.

I glance down. I've
stepped on a twig. I look up at the men and I almost scream.

Sahariel has a sword out
and is coming toward me; he is cloaked in evil, menacing dark colors.
They're swirling madly around him and I don't have to look at his
face to know he is out to kill me.

I scream; or at least I
try. I feel like there is no air in my lungs, no matter how many
panic drawn breaths I take.

This doesn't feel like a
dream anymore. The air is too dry and it feels like it's pulsing with
its own angry, malicious intentions. I don't like it, and I feel like
the only emotion I can feel as I turn around to run away is an
uninhibited, strangling fear.

I try not to stumble,
trip or fall down, but I am unsuccessful. It feels like the trees are
somehow conspiring against me, trying to keep me in the awful place
longer than I want to.

“
Eden!”
Sahariel shouts my name, but I can't tell how close he is to me and
I'm not turning around to find out.

He shouts my name again,
but it's muffled by the trees. The forest around me begins to echo
his call, turning into an omniscient, ambiguous voice.

“
Eden... Eden...
Eden...” the forest whispers my name intimately into my ear and
I shudder.

I fall to the ground and
cover my ears as the whisper quickly turns from a gentle sound
caressing my thoughts to a voice so loud it's hammering into my
brain. Then I begin to shake.

Tremors and quakes wrack
my body and I can't stop them. It feels like someone has taken a hold
of my body and it's thrashing it about. I close my eyes as tight as I
can and hope it all stops soon.

“
Eden!”
someone shouts. A familiar someone.

My eyes fly open. It's
Marcia.

“
You can stop
shaking me now,” I say, each of my words punctuated with a
shake.

Finally she stops and has
an extremely relieved look on her face.

“
Dear lord, girl,”
she puts a hand over her heart, “you almost gave me a heart
attack. I've been sitting' here for five minutes trying to wake you
up. Are you okay? How’s your heart?”

She takes a long look at
my face to make sure I'm alright.

“
It's fine,”
I say, “it must have been a bad dream. I really don't
remember.”

All I had managed to
remember were blurry trees and a stifling fear.

Marcia gives me a quick
once over to be sure I'm telling the truth. Then she takes a deep
breath and smiles.

“
Okay,” she
gets up from the edge of the bed, “I'm going grocery shopping.
Is there anything specific you'd like?”

I shake my head no.

“
Are you sure?”

I nod.

“
Well, if you
change your mind, just give me a call on my cell phone, alright?”

“
Okay,” I
smile.

She reaches over and
ruffles my hair with her hand and I swat her away and roll my eyes.
She walks out of the room, waves good-bye and closes the door.

The sun is shining bright
outside and the clock reads 12:34. How did I manage to sleep so late?

I yawn and stretch,
hearing my bones pop into life. I don't know why I feel so tired.
It's like my energy got sucked out of me without my knowledge or
consent. I had the flu once when I was younger. That sucked, but at
least my body doesn't ache like it did then.

I walk downstairs and
into the kitchen. I pull open the door, grab a bottle of water and
take my heart medicine. Flopping down on the couch, I turn the
television on and watch without thinking. Seconds go by and the door
opens and Marcia walks in.

“
Did you forget
something?” I ask her.

“
No, why do you
ask?” She gives me a confused look.

“
Because you've
only been gone for a few minutes?”

“
No,” she
drags the word out, “I've been gone for at least a few hours.”

She gives me a worried
look and I know she's about ready to call the doctor and have him
come out and give me a checkup.

“
Are you feeling
okay?” She asks me in a concerned tone.

I frown at the
television. Where did two hours go?

“
Yeah,” I
give her a small smile, “I'm fine. I must have just zoned out
there for bit. Seriously, don't worry about me. I took my pills. Now
stop giving me that look and down worry about me.”

She sighs and gives up
trying to be worried about me. She knows not to push me too hard,
because if I was sick, then I wouldn't want to see the doctor just in
spite. I return to watching television as Marcia puts away the
groceries.

Marcia's shuffling around
noises mix with the sound of the television, both of which I'm not
really paying attention to. The noises converge into some sort of
white noise that I can hear but don't listen to. Pots and pans bang
together, Marcia is saying something, and then all of the sudden
dinner is done after what feels like only ten minutes.

“
What is it?”
I ask before I even get up.

“
Didn't you hear me
when I first started? I had told you I was going to make chicken
enchiladas casserole style, and if you didn't want it for you to tell
me.”

“
Oh, sorry. I guess
I didn't hear you,” I say, “It must have been the
television.”

“
Alright, well,”
she shrugs, “dinner is done, so come eat.”

I get up from the couch,
plate my food, and sit down at the table. I'm not sure if I'm hungry
or not. I'm also not sure if a whole day has gone by or not. I look
at the clock and it tells me it's already eight at night. Where the
hell did all my time go today?

“
Marcia,” I
look up from my untouched food and see her getting up to take care of
her dish already.

“
Hmm?”

“
Have you ever,”
I stop and frown, trying to figure out how to word it without
sounding crazy, “have you ever felt like you've been losing
chunks of time? Like, one minute it will be morning and then the next
moment several hours have gone by?”

“
Once,” she
says, “when I was younger. I got really sick and I slept a lot.
I was in and out for a few days, sleeping all the time. Was really
tired. Why? What's up? Are you sure you're feeling okay?”

“
I'm fine. I just
don't think I slept too well because of that dream last night. This
whole day has just felt like it's gone by too quickly.”

“
That's
understandable,” Marcia smiles at me, “why don't you get
to bed early tonight and rest up so this doesn't happen tomorrow,
alright?”

“
Yeah,” I
agree, “sounds like a good plan.”

I get up from the table,
my food untouched. I'm not hungry. I'm mostly just tired and
awestruck. I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that I've been
spacing out this much. It makes no sense. And to top it all off I
still can't remember the nightmare.

When I crawl into bed, I
tell myself everything will be better in the morning. Everything will
be better with sleep. Every lost bit of time that I don't remember
will be given back to me. Or so I hope.

I feel like chunks of
time have been stolen from me. I don’t know, or remember,
what’s going on half the time, and it's getting ridiculous. For
the past week I've been completely out of it. If people were thinking
I was on drugs before now, they were surely certain of it now.

Since that horrible
dream, the one I can't remember, my time has just been slipping away
from me. Someone will be talking to me and next thing I know two
hours have gone by and I'm doing something completely different. I
don't like the feeling very much.

“
Hello,”
Brock snaps his fingers in front of my face, “Eden, are you
there?”

I snap back to reality,
blink a few times, shake my head a little and smile at him.

“
Yeah, I'm here.
Sorry,” I say, “I don't know what's wrong. I've just been
feeling spacey lately.”

I trace my scar.

“
Maybe you have a
cold or something,” Evaughn says as she puts a potato chip in
her mouth.

“
I don't know,
maybe,” I shake my head.

“
Maybe you have
mono,” Brock says with a shrug.

“
Mono?”

“
Yeah, you know,
mononucleosis? The 'kissing disease'?” He makes kissing noises
at me.

“
Yes,” I say
and roll my eyes, “because we all know I've kissed so many
people lately.” I adjust my sunglasses and look out into the
crowd.

“
Hey, you never
know. Wishful thinking, right? I mean, it's better than what it could
be, right?”

“
Yeah,” I
say, “you have a point.”

I take a sip of my tea
and glance at my watch.

“
Shit,” I
grab my purse.

“
What’s up?”
Brock looks at me.

“
I'm late.”

“
For?”

“
I told my dad I'd
pick him up from the airport. If I don't leave now I'll be late.”

I walk quickly to my car.
I can't believe I forgot! I get in my car and make my way to the
airport. I try not to drive too fast, because getting pulled over
doesn't really save time.

The airport, thank god,
is not crowded. The good spots are nice and empty and the terminal is
close. I go into the airport, pick out a comfortable chair, and I
wait.

First, twenty minutes go
by, then forty, and then an hour. After a while I decide to call him.
I pull my cellphone out to call him and I'm about to hit send when I
see I have a voice mail.

“
Hello, Eden,”
I hear dad say in the voice mail, “I hope you get this before
you head to the airport, but I had an emergency meeting pop up, so I
won't be home for a few more days. I'll let you know when.” And
then that's it.

Great. I drove all the
way out to the airport for nothing. I sit there for a second
wondering how I could have missed his call. Was that one of my
inoperative moments?

“
Miss,”
someone says to me.

I look up. It's a
security guard.

“
Are you waiting
for someone?”

“
Oh,” I look
at my watch and tried not to look surprised at the time, “I was
here to pick up dad, but I just found out he won't be making it.”
I get my things and stand up.

“
Well, I'm sorry to
hear that,” the man says and walks away from me.

I walk out of the airport
and to my car. How had I managed to sit there for two hours after I
checked my voice mail? I shake my head and get into my car.

“
If this doesn't
let up soon I'm going to have to start setting an alarm clock during
the day.”

I get home and am
relieved to find that Marcia isn't there, At least now I don't have
to explain my lost hours to anyone. I get out of my car and go
inside.

The house is empty, but
it's a godsend at the moment. I clomp up the stairs to my bedroom,
change into my night clothes and fall asleep quickly in bed. And I
dream. It's not a good or bad dream. It's just a dream about a man,
and somehow I know I've seen him before.

The young man in my
dream, all I see is his face. His skin is tan from the sun and
stubble riddles his face. His golden brown hair is loose around his
face and his eyes are a pure gold color. The color is so intense that
I almost feel this dream man is seeing into my soul. I've never met
this man before, but I feel as though I know him. Not the
I-know-where-he-grew-up sort of knowing, but sort of a connection.