It took me five seconds to fall. The impact on my chest jarring my body but not my mind. I suppose this is the point where your life is supposed to flash before your eyes as time itself freezes. And it did in a way. But I didn't relive my life physically like walking through an old memory, déjà vu in each step. It was a feeling, something that started in my chest and spread to my fingertips, one so unique to me that it encapsulated each significant event into one single second.
One. Unit #16, where I'd packed all my hopes among the dusted cardboard boxes. The feeling of my locket became tangible, though my hands extended straight out from my body as if I were bracing for impact.
Two. Mo Soileireacht, the journal and painting. Everything I hoped for since my first trip to Unit #16 was realized within the tightly bound book. It was my voice narrating aloud, but whenever I held the journal in my hands the sound changed. Maybe an octave higher and a tad softer, I could hear my mother's voice within me.
Three. Something that hardly crossed my radar, romantic love. Intensely and comfortably I was in love with Lyle. Her hand was at my back when I hit the water.
How coincidental that all took their roots within the last year, if this was my life had I not been living before? Alive, yes. I went through the motions turning myself on and off with the rise and set of the sun. But living? I dreaded living, dreaded the moments where I would be in a clout of confusion like sitting in the eye of a tornado. I was untouched but the sight of the whirling opaque clouds made me dizzy enough to forget where my thoughts began.
The Lily Pad Place, my clarity, that was where I truly felt my heart beat faster and more intently than the background drum that kept me upright. In the fourth second I felt the moon's beam strike me and without opening my eyes I could feel light wash over me.
The fifth brought me back to reality as I felt the sharp punch of a bullet on my chest, just above my heart. At first I was unsure if this was the present or another memory. A strange essence of déjà vu hit me as I caught a glimpse of Monroe on the ponds bank, his gun pointed at me as he watched me fall. With his eyes trained on my being he bent down to retrieve Mo Soileireacht.
"May."
A hand skimmed over my face as I was lifted from the water.
My eyes adjusted to the new light cast from the moon and magnified by the pond. Lyle's vibrant green irises stared into mine before scanning my body and stopping at my chest.
"Good thing Frankie had one of these." She gritted her teeth fiddling with the zipper of my jacket.
I could tell she'd been anxious of our plan, but it was clear a level of relief settled in her as she took her time undoing the zipper. Only once did she look over her shoulder. Frankie stood at the edge of the pond, with his phone in hand he waved at me.
Monroe was gone.
"Did we get it?" Were the first words out of my mouth. As I spoke water that invaded my body bubbled up forcing me to cough out the question.
Lyle nodded. Her hand moved to the back of my head as she tilted me forward to a more sturdy standing position. We were six feet from the bank completely surrounded by lily pads which quickly took over the space I'd been using as a buoyant bed.
"There we go." We peeled the jacket off me to reveal the bullet proof vest. Lyle insisted I wore it – thank goodness. Though it weighed me down on the walk over, the buoyancy of the thick material kept my face above the water enough for me to breath.
Bringing my chin to my neck I searched the black liner until I located the bullet. It was scrunched to half of its original size. My side ached and I was sure a bruise the size of my fist would appear the next morning. But it was worth it.
After shedding the vest we waded through the lily pads to Frankie who pulled us up onto the grass.
"Here." I said handing Frankie a mic the size of a pencil eraser that I kept clipped to the waistband of my jeans. "I was close enough to him, it should have everything."
He grinned tucking his phone into his pocket before studying the mic with a hushed voice. "Brilliant." Frankie's eyes glazed over and he seemed to leave us for a moment as he marveled at the technology in his hands.
"We waited until his car left. Monroe took the journal." Lyle anticipated my question as we stood in the clearing under the light of the cratered moon.
Her comment caught Frankie's attention and he bounded back his eyes snapping up from the pin sized mic as he jumped in between us. "I made the first letter of each entry spell out You are a-"
"You did not." Lyle turned to Frankie her shoulders tense.
Frankie's carefree expression disappeared almost instantly as Lyle focused her intensity on our friend.
"He isn't going to notice." His argument was weak as he rubbed the back of his shaggy head.
"What if he does? We can't risk him finding out it's a fake." She paced in a line, wearing down the grass in her path. "We can't take stupid chances."
Frankie mumbled an apology as he scampered behind me for protection. Lyle turned and with purposeful strides marched toward me. She stopped a foot away.
I felt water logged, both literally and figuratively. There was no energy in my muscles to move me from her path as I felt every inch of me being pulled by a force stronger than gravity. I heard all that was said but it was difficult to muster any sort of response or coherent thought. Lyle was angry and even worried for our safety - I understood that - but there was nothing I or Frankie could do.
To Monroe I was dead. And in some strange way maybe that's why I felt so alive. As the bullet connected with my chest I was relieved - not at the prospect of death - but at the idea of a new life.
Lyle placed her hands on either side of my head, her touch softer than her previous stomping footsteps. There was a pause as she looked me over. Now it was my turn to read her mind.
"I'm ok- I mean ok isn't the most accurate word but..." I laid my hands over hers. "I am going to be ok. We are going to be ok. Just one more day. I love you." I gave a reassuring nod as much for her sake as my own.
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May is ok .. but what will she do now ?
YOU ARE READING
The Painting
Mystery / Thriller"It took me five seconds to fall. The impact on my chest jarring my body but not my mind. I suppose this is the point where your life is supposed to flash before your eyes as time itself freezes - and it did in a way. But I didn't relive my life phy...
