Shambhala Page 7

  “If the projections are successful, Aumnox will show up for the next meeting,” I thought, my confidence increasing.

  Chapter 8

  Getting Some Distance

  Once Ian had gone, I didn’t know what to do. Was I going crazy? Why did I kiss him if I was supposed to be keeping some distance?

  That situation seemed very strange and illogical. If I wanted to be with him, if I had missed him so much during that long five year absence, why did I want to just stay friends now? Was I just trying to be the strong one? The interesting one, maybe? That reaction was pissing me off.

  “Well, now what do I do?” I asked myself as I walked slowly to my car, still faking my excuse of having a date to go shopping with a friend. After a few moments, I turned around surreptitiously. I wanted to see if Ian had gone so I could stop acting. And yes, to my relief, Ian’s car was gone.

  Happy to find I was alone, I changed course and headed back to the doorway.

  I went into the house, dropped my bag and jacket on the living room sofa and sat on the other one, the one closest to the window. I picked up my notebook and pen and started to write how I felt. I needed to figure out that situation, and at the same time, try to understand and get rid of some absurd ideas.

  I just spent the night with Ian. After five years, he’s showed up in my life again, like magic. Yesterday we ate lunch together and during the meal, he explained why he left. If my experience was bad, his had to have been, too. If I had seen the lifeless and mutilated corpses of my loved ones, I don’t think I would have got over my grief so quickly. Not only was Eric like a brother to him, my mother was more than a woman who took care of him and let him play with her son on the patio of her house. I’ve always been aware that Ian loved my mother as if she were part of his own family, maybe as an aunt or something more.

  The thing is that Ian has returned and hasn’t changed a bit. I’m as attracted to him as ever. His smile...I love the smile on his lips when he’s happy. And his eyes...I lose myself in them when he looks at me.

  Yesterday he kissed me, and I didn’t know how to react.

  On top of all that, when he kissed me, I had just...

  I couldn’t keep writing. My hand stopped short because I couldn’t remember clearly what had happened. I tried to recall but only fragmented images came up. A strong emotion surged in my chest, a kind of familiar tingling and nervousness, but not anything concrete I could relate it to. I slowly closed my eyes to focus on them and to know where they came from, what they were exactly. After a few minutes, I was able to begin to distinguish them. In the first place, some of them made me remember the day and the strange night I spent with Ian. Secondly, I identified others that resembled the memory of some dreams I might have had that morning. Among the latter, I quickly began to see more clearly the silhouette of a beautiful mountain environment, very green. I thought that, in effect, I was reliving a dream. In it, I was in the middle of a magical place, the kind you normally only see in movies or documentaries. Those scenes made it clear that I was there, and I wasn’t alone. There rapidly appeared the figures of seven or eight more beings. We all stood facing a high mountain with the feeling that we were waiting for something important. Suddenly, with subtle quietness, three beings appeared in front of us. Two of them were men, very slim, undoubtedly over six feet tall. The third figure was feminine, about my height, around five foot six.

  They looked at us from a distance, unmoving. Their features were like ours, but at the same time they had a peculiarity that differentiated them from the others present, an atypical essence apart from their size. Their bodies emitted a great amount of energy and a kind of self-illumination, an effect that was noticeable because of the dim light of the place, since apparently night embraced us. Also, and above all, they transmitted an unusual peace which was very pleasant.

  I couldn’t see anybody’s faces with clarity, much less identify them, however there was something in these people with me that, without knowing why, felt very familiar.

  After staying in that memory for an indeterminate amount of time, I felt myself smiling. I opened my eyes and returned to reality. I looked at my notebook. Now, with the ideas a little more clear, I went on venting on the white pages.

  Maybe I had that pleasant dream after I got rid of the fever completely. Something in the food must have sat wrong with me that made my temperature go up. Luckily, it didn’t last long. If it hadn’t been for that, I doubt Ian would have ended up staying to sleep.

  I think I remember that it was after waking up from that oneiric adventure that Ian kissed me. However, what I can’t place is at what time of night he changed clothes...it’s all very strange, it’s like my memories were trampled, disordered. This morning when I got up, I was very confused, on one hand being happy to have Ian at my side, but at the same time, I felt like I didn’t want anything else to happen between us. That’s what I don’t understand. For five years I’ve asked myself what he was doing, what was going on in his life, what would have happened if he’d stayed. All that time I fantasized about him, how it would be to be going out with him. But now that I have him here and I have the opportunity to find out, I don’t understand why a part of me rejects it. It’s as if there’s a little voice in my head telling me he isn’t the love of my life, that the one who might be my soulmate is out there, somewhere, and that, maybe he is not as far away as I think. But to not be with a person you’re attracted to, who you enjoy, with whom you empathize and feel happy, to want to be with someone when you don’t even know who they are, or where they are, or if they even exist, I think is crazy.

  It makes me angry to not be able to avoid thinking: What if, being with Ian, I lose the opportunity to meet who I’m really looking for?

  I’m a mess! I don’t know where I got that idea that my soulmate might be out there wanting for me to find him. I’ve never believed in those things—do I believe it them now? And why?

  Besides, why do I have to find him? Why can’t he find me?

  It would be an unfortunate situation if that were the case and I was with Ian, or maybe it would be worse if it was me who found him while I’m in a relationship with Ian. Ugh! Whatever happened, I would feel guilty...and I don’t know if it makes sense for me to feel guilty. I fear these thoughts just cloud my judgment.

  I dropped the notebook and pen on my lap again. All that I’d thought and written was so disconcerting. I needed some space to calm down my emotions. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs, and let out the breath slowly, calmly. Dad! The image of my father appeared in my head and I automatically thought that spending a little time with him would help me relax and forget everything for a few hours. I picked up the phone and called him to see if he had plans.

  “Hello!” answered his voice at the other end of the line.

  “Hi, Dad, what are you doing?”

  “Well, nothing great, honestly. I was picking up the house a little, you know.” He sounded cheerful.

  “Do you have lunch plans?” I said, getting straight to the point.

  “No, not yet, do you want to have lunch together?”

  “Yes, that’s why I called,” I said, laughing a little bit.

  “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “I can take you to a restaurant I just learned about,” he said, sounding animated.

  “It wouldn’t matter if we ate at home,” I said honestly. “I’d rather be someplace quiet where we won’t be interrupted, I have a lot to tell you.”

  “Whatever you want,” he agreed.

  My father knew me well. He knew that my answer meant I wanted some quiet or I wanted to talk to him about something. Once again, he wasn’t wrong.

  “Great, I’ll head over there now,” I told him happily.

  “Fine, but you make lunch,” he joked, making me laugh.

  “Okay, I’ll do it. See you soon.”

  “See you soon.” He hung up.

  I went to the kitchen to see what I had in the refrigerator. I grabbed a few things in case my fat
her didn’t have them at his house, threw them in a bag and left it in the hall. I remembered that the bed was unmade so I made that up quickly. Before leaving, I peeked into the room where my office was and looked through the papers on the desk. It was presumable that I wouldn’t be working on my novel that day.

  “Too many distractions spinning around in my head,” I said to myself.

  Finally, when I was leaving the office, I stopped for a moment to look at the photo of Ian, Eric, and me. I don’t know why that reminded me of the kiss I’d given Ian when he got in the car.

  “I hope I didn’t mess things up,” I said out loud. “Well, it was just a kiss. I’ll talk to him,” I convinced myself.

  I grabbed the bag again, the jacket and my purse that I’d left in the hallway, and left my house with an actual destination.

  *･｡.·.｡･*

  I got to my father’s place. He greeted me with his apron on. That look was so funny.

  “What, are you already making the food?” I said.

  “No way, I’m waiting for you to do it,” he said with a broad smile.

  We exchanged cheek kisses and a hug, and I went to my old room to drop the things I was carrying. When I went back to the kitchen I saw he was taking off the apron. He left it on the table.

  “Well, what do you want to talk about?” he asked point-blank as soon as I crossed the threshold.

  “How do you know I want to talk about anything?” Silly question on my part, because since I was a child, my father always had the amazing ability to see through me, as if I were transparent, and as clear as water. I couldn’t lie to him because most of the time I just got caught. And, although I should be used to his ‘gift’, I surprised myself with raised eyebrows, still incredulous.

  “Aren’t you smart!” I muttered, laughing to myself. But he heard me.

  “Ha! It’s that you’re very obvious.”

  It was clear that was true. I had never managed to achieve such empathy with my mother. It was as we were from different times and we never understood each other. On the other hand, it was easy with him. Deep down, we were very similar. We had similar likes and dislikes. We understood each other extremely well.

  “Well,” I said, avoiding his question. “I’ll start preparing our food and we’ll talk later. I have a few things to share.”

  Despite leaving him waiting for more, my father was patient enough not to insist.

  “Okay, I’m going to keep picking up,” he said, picking up a couple of paper towels and some window cleaner.

  For awhile, I concentrated on the menu I was preparing, some seitan fillets accompanied by a potato ratatouille. I had been a vegetarian for more than four years. At first, it wasn’t an easy transition, there were many flavors and textures I missed, and above all, eating away from home became an odyssey. However, it was something that my mind and my body asked of me. I felt better, lighter, and even felt that this change in diet benefitted my meditation practices. Although my father was also making gradual changes in his eating habits, he allowed himself to continue eating meat, milk, fish, and other things; however, when we had lunch together, he always preferred that I cook one of my dishes. He said that way he could familiarize himself little by little to new flavors and culinary varieties of vegetarians.

  “How’s everything going for you?” he asked, trying to start a conversation.

  “Have you put down the tablecloth?”

  Sometimes it was hard for me to get started with what I wanted to say.

  “Yes, I’m finishing setting the table, though there wasn’t much to set,” he said, laughing.

  “Here, take this plate, this one is yours,” I said, holding it out to him.

  He took it and went to put it on the table and I followed with mine in my hand. Once at the table, I allowed myself a few seconds for my peculiar way of blessing the food:

  “Thank you for the delicious food that we are about to eat, thank you because my father is still in my life and he understands me, and thank you because Ian has come back. Thank you, too, that I have the strength to talk to my father and the conversation with him is going to be positive and he’s going to help me straighten out my thoughts. In harmony with everyone, amen.”

  “Ian’s back.” I threw out the words, looking down at my meal. For some strange reason, I felt a little embarrassed in that moment to look my father in the eyes.

  “Ian, your brother’s friend?” He seemed confused.

  “Do you know another Ian?” I asked him, tongue-in-cheek.

  “I understand,” he whispered pensively.

  There was a short silence where the only sound was forks against porcelain plates. I knew that this news had caught him off guard as much as it had me, and for a moment I was afraid that talking about him would make him relive old memories, which could open wounds seemingly healed.

  “So many memories,” he said candidly.

  I looked up slowly and watched his face. He looked so absorbed in his thoughts, but his features showed nothing but peace and serenity. That calmed me.

  “Yes, I ran into him the other day when I left work,” I explained.

  “And how is he?” he asked with sincere interest.

  “Well, we talked for awhile. We exchanged phone numbers and had dinner together yesterday.” I tried to put the day in as neutral terms as possible, leaving out any details that betrayed my emotions. Of course, since the first newsflash was enough, I left out the minor detail that he’d stayed to sleep at my house. I didn’t want to explain that I’d been sick with a fever and he’d stayed to take care of me.

  When I looked at him again, this time his face had a mischievous smile.

  “What is it, what are you laughing at?” I asked, frowning.

  “No, nothing, nothing.”

  “Seriously, what are you laughing at?” I said, stung like a little girl.

  “Your platonic love has returned...” he said in a singsong voice.

  My eyes got wide and I almost choked on the food in my mouth.

  “How can you be so silly?” I shot out, raising my voice at the same time I felt myself blushing and my cheeks reached a suspicious level of heat.

  My father laughed openly.

  “Did you think we hadn’t noticed that you liked your brother’s friend?” he asked giggling as if he were a kid.

  “What?” I said, like a crazy person.

  Of course, I’d deny it all my life. It couldn’t be that obvious. I just sometimes found myself looking at him in awe, but only in particular moments when I could relax because I knew that nobody was looking.

  “Come on, woman, you’re not a kid any more. Confess!” he insisted. The smirk of satisfaction was still on his face. And now, entertainment was no longer eating, but fun at my expense.

  “Come on, that’s enough, all right?”

  “Fine, fine, deny it all you want but you can’t fool me,” he said happily, with a certain air of superiority. “I know you’ve liked that boy at least since you were 20 years old. And, just so you know, he liked you, too.” That statement made my hair stand on end. “But your brother managed very well to keep you apart. I think he thought that if you two went out together and it didn’t go well, his friendship with Ian would be in danger.”

  I listened without missing a detail. I felt happy to hear all of that but a little upset as well. If we liked each other, why did Eric have to get in the middle of it? In short, it was something that had no remedy. The years had passed, and all I could do is forget those ‘minor’ details.

  “Your brother was a little insecure in that regard,” he explained. “He didn’t have many friends and he didn’t want to lose the one he really felt comfortable with. Besides, he looked at him like a brother. I suppose imagining Ian with you would have felt strange for him.”

  I took a deep breath and took a bit of seitan from my plate. My father paused in his explanation, and did the same with his food, but I could see that his head was still spinning, because now and then hi
s lips turned up in a nervous smile.

  “So, what is he doing to do? How long is he going to stay/” he asked, returning to the conversation.

  “He told me he’s here to stay.”

  “And are you going to see each other again?”

  My father seemed very interested in us seeing each other again, and I didn’t understand why.

  “We haven’t decided anything,” I answered honestly.

  “Is he available?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I knew perfectly well what he meant, but I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Since when did he like to gossip? We had never had a conversation like this before, and now...it reminded me of the crazy liaisons at my office.

  “You know what I mean—is he married, does he have a girlfriend or anything.”

  A sigh escaped me that turned into a smile.

  “No, he doesn’t have a girlfriend, he isn’t married, or anything. And I think I still like him,” I confessed, letting myself get carried away by the fervent interest my father showed in the subject.

  “Oh, that’s great!” he said, smacking the table.

  I laughed. “It’s great?”

  “Yes, of course it’s great. I’m finally going to have a son-in-law to talk to about soccer, movies and who I get along with. It couldn’t be better.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing, seeing the reaction that he was having about Ian’s return, it was completely unexpected. Far from making him sad with memories of Eric, it appeared he’d got back a loved one. And that was without even seeing him yet. I couldn’t imagine how he’d react if Ian were there.

  “Dad, hold on, don’t get so excited,” I tried to calm him down and bring him back to reality. “Nothing has happened between us yet.”

  “So you don’t reject the possibility that there’s something between you?” he interrupted me, satisfied.

  “No, Dad, I don’t reject it, but it isn’t for sure, either.”

  “Do you like someone else?”

  “Dad! No,” I answered, in a short tone.