Dream's Intuition

Chapter 8 - Eyes playing tricks

CHAPTER 8

            “I thought I saw her.”  My head is hanging down as I peer out his apartment window through the strands of hair that fall in my face.  I have my index finger and thumb in my mouth, a nervous habit.  I don’t chew on them, they just kind of sit there, like an unlit cigarette.

“What?”  Robert hands me a glass of ice water.  I take it and hold between my hands, and I repeat myself. “I thought I saw her.  No. I saw her.”  I have been replaying the moment in my mind since I locked my apartment door.  A flicker of light and her face.  Her eyes were cold as they met mine drilling into my soul.  Her long strands of brown hair hung limp around the hallows of once full face.

“Fi, you didn’t.  You couldn’t have. I was there.”

“No…I guess not…I mean I saw a reflection in the mirror, and it looked like her.  I got really excited, I thought she was home.”  In that flicker of light she had stared me down.

“It was probably you, or the way the light plays on the wall, or a million other logical explanations, but you didn’t see her… I was there.”  Even though there was a logic base to his explanation, far more rational then my own, it still didn’t sit right with me.  I saw her, and there was an uneasiness that I felt about it.

            I curled up on his couch that night and I slept the deepest sleep that I had slept since the Saturday I realized she was missing.  I dreamt that I was back in University.  I was at a bar, and I was with Kay, we were surrounded by mist that kept rising higher and higher until it separated us all from one another.  The air smelt of fresh soil, and when I reached forward into the mist,  I could feel branches and leaves, a maze of shrubbery had sprouted before me.  I was looking for Kay and I could never find her, I ran in circles throughout the maze calling out for her, but my calls went unanswered. 

            “Hey sleepy get up or you’ll be late for work.”

An illegible mutter streamed from between my lips as I went to the bathroom to get ready. 

            Opening the door there were still remainders of his not so distant relationship.  There was a pink toothbrush, hair elastics, a shaver, all in visible sight.  If a woman can claim her territory in only one space in the entire sphere of their man’s world, it is the bathroom. 

“Don’t worry, you will not end up with a third toothbrush or find my underwear somewhere in your couch cushions.”  I flash him a smile as I toss my toothbrush back into my purse. 

“Hey, I could think of worst things to find in my couch cushions!”

There is a definite tension in the air, and this time it was not a sexually repressed one, rather one filling the void of the awkward conversation that was being exchanged.  “Well I should get going, thanks for the couch, and thanks for not thinking I’m crazy!”  I give him a kiss on the cheek and quickly make myself sparse. 

            The day at work flies by and I stay later to ‘get ahead’ but truth be told I would do anything but return to that apartment.  My stomach was still not right about the whole situation.  At around 7:30 pm my cell phone begins to bounce across a pile of papers strewn on my desk.  I do not recognize the number in the call display but answer it anyways, “hello?”

“Is this Fiona Aichonson?”

“This is she.”

“Hi, this is Constable Murphy calling.  I visited you a couple of days ago…”

“Yes, yes, I remember, how are you officer?”

“Fine. Fine.  I wanted to inform you that you need not worry about your roommate any longer.”

“Oh, so where is she?  She’s OK then.”

“Yes she is.  We found a note that she had left in her office.”

“I don’t follow….”

“If you would like to see the note you can come see it, but it clearly states that she is left town.  It’s a resignation letter to her employer, a little personal but that does not seem to be out of character for this individual…”

“You’re talking about Kay right?  Kay Pearson?” 

“Yes.”

“Why would she not tell me that she was leaving.  I am her roommate, both of our names are on the lease, she cannot just take up and leave.  Does the landlord know? Does her mother know?  This just doesn’t make any sense at all.” My voice became high and shrill and I could hear myself yelling into the phone.  I floated tried to remove myself from the situation, trying from an outside perspective, to get a grip on what was happening. 

            One: she’s not dead, that’s a good thing.  Two: the letter probably states more then what he was divulging.  Three: she is your best friend, she will call you when she can.  Four: she had been acting weird lately, maybe she did just want to get out and I wasn’t really focusing or listening.

“Are you still there?” A voice breaks the silence.

“Ok, I’m sorry…I’ll stop yelling.  Can I come see this letter? I can. Thank you.  I’ll be there in 20.” I hang up the phone and take a deep breath.  Worse things have happened; this is not world altering news.  Kay simply got bored and up and left.  Leaving behind all of her belongings?  I had to see this letter.