Predominance (10 page)

I sighed with wonderment at my angel, lost in her beauty.

A profound silence had engulfed the entire meadow when an extraordinary thing happened. And I'm not talking about the aurora—which began to glow even brighter and greener than before—but a surreal connection that compelled our eyes to lock in an unbreakable stare, in which I felt my soul being sucked in by her eyes and hers by mine.

I'd be remiss not to clarify that what happened then was something much more profound than a mere romantic moment. A voiceless feeling began to well up in my heart, telling me that I no longer belonged to myself, but to Yvette. It was hard for me to accept what I was experiencing, given my predisposition toward logical reasoning. But I had to admit that whatever was happening to me shook my beliefs and everything I ever thought I knew to the core, leaving me with nothing but my father's transcendental beliefs—which were never my strong suit. Nevertheless, I considered the possibilities.

When our eyes were finally released from this trance, we sighed and smiled at each other with disbelief. Our mirrored reaction to the event let us both know that the experience had been shared equally —and that something inside us had been set right forever. We tried to pull ourselves together, but it took us a few minutes to actually shake our wonderment. Even when we did, we couldn't stop smiling.

“What just happened?” Yvette whispered, her expression bewildered.

“I have no idea,” I said just as softly, taken aback by the strange experience. “But it was amazing,” I added.

Yvette agreed with me with a vigorous nod.

I became dazed the moment I discovered that two amazingly powerful feelings lingered from this peculiar event. One was an extraordinary mixture of happiness and relief, as if a maddening emptiness in my chest had been finally refilled. The second was the familiar, yet compelling impulse to reach out for Yvette and hold her tightly in my arms—a feeling now increased tenfold by this inexplicable thing that had passed between us. Confounded by my own thoughts, I closed my eyes and fought to restrain it, thinking I was the only one having it. But soon, Yvette alerted me otherwise. 

“Did you feel it, too?” she asked innocently, wide-eyed. “The relief? The entireness? The... happiness?” Her question not only gave a matching description of what I had just felt, but made me realize that we were sharing the same feelings even as we spoke. I nodded in response, too dumbfounded to use words—and kept controlling my impulse to lunge towards my dazed angel, who now seemed jittery, bouncing gently on her ballerina toes, showing an obviously forced constraint. “Do you also feel the same need to—?”

“Yes!” I confessed bluntly, before she could finish the unneeded question. It was clear now that we both shared the same overwhelming desire for physical contact, and there was no use denying it. I took a few steps, cautiously, in her direction and extended my hand to hers, my heart racing like an out-of-control engine. “Would you mind terribly if I just—?”

“No,” she interjected swiftly, approving my request before my words were uttered, as if letting me know that it was no more needed than her own unfinished question.

I walked to her then, an open hand in front of me, watching her chest rise and fall faster with every step I took. She looked down at my hand the moment I stopped in front of her, and smiled. Then, she pushed herself off the tree with one graceful move and brought her hands from behind her back, our bodies just inches away now. My world stopped spinning the moment I felt her dainty hand slowly slip into mine. For the first time in my life, everything became clear and right. I understood, somehow, that this moment was the reason why my heart had not given up on me yet.

I closed my eyes then and leaned my forehead against hers, as if tired from a lifelong journey. She seemed to feel the same way. A deep, mutual sigh of relief finally escaped our lips when our arms slid around each other in a tight and powerful embrace that lasted for the longest moment of my life. It was a moment in which we forgot about everything; who we were, where we were, and why. For that moment on, we felt no pain, sadness, or despair. All we could feel was our warmth, and a feeling neither of us knew much about: happiness. We were no longer nervous about being with each other. On the contrary, we found ourselves in a familiar place. Being with each other made us feel safe; it made us feel at home.

“I've missed you, Victor,” she said, her face pressed against my chest.

“I've missed you,” I whispered, my voice filled with emotion, “But that's over now. I promise.” I softened my hug and leaned backwards to try and see her angelic face again, but her arms tightened around my waist like a grapple, making me resume my loving embrace. I smiled uncomplainingly.

“Don't,” she grumbled. “Don't let go. I don't want to wake up just yet.” Her voice was nearly a whisper.

“This isn't a dream, Yvee.” I assured her, but my words only made her hug tighten.

“Then how do you explain what's happening to us?”

“I don't. I can't.”

“Yeah, but... Is it normal?”

I chuckled, realizing the truth—our truth. “We don't need it to be normal. We only need it to be real.” I curled my finger under her chin and lifted her head as I lowered mine to her eye level. “And it is. I promise.”

She smiled coyly. “I should know by now that you always keep your promises.”

“Will you keep yours?” I asked profoundly.

She gasped and smiled, embarrassed—her face flushed again. But then her smile softened and her eyes opened with a sincerity I've never seen before in anyone. “Yes,” she said, running her fingers through my hair, her blue eyes scanning my very soul. “I'll always be your girl. I promised.”

The aurora went haywire then, as if stirred by our emotions, painting its wondrous green hues upon our faces as our lips reached for each other in a slow, teasing dance. I couldn't think of anything more perfect than when her tender lips brushed timidly against mine. It was like gliding my lips over the petals of a velvety red rose after a morning drizzle. I could've died happy at that moment, and I still know that life itself couldn't possibly be any better than what I felt then. My heart had never beaten so fast—and yet, it had never been so peaceful. And I was close enough to feel hers, too—beating at the same rate as mine.

We finally consummated our kiss, opening ourselves completely to the overpowering feeling that came from us being together. Our hearts exchanged in the process. We moved apart, slowly, but just enough to lock our gaze—enough to reassure ourselves that we weren't dreaming. We held hands, completely breathless, and gazed into each other's eyes, no longer caring for answers.

Never before had I believed in the existence of soul mates—until our fingers, unintentionally, interlocked in a perfect fit, like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been brought together. We held each other tightly then, as if we were never letting go, as if we had been waiting for this moment for our entire lives—because somehow, in this confusing, cruel, and hurtful world, we had finally found each other. She rested her head on my chest and words were no longer necessary. We had felt everything that needed to be said. We knew we hadn't lived long, and we knew we might not have much longer to live, either. But that night, we let go of our sorrows. We lived in the moment, as if it were the first and the last of our uncertain lives.

That night we lived a lifetime under the weeping willow tree.

“You're cold,” I whispered finally, with a faint smile. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“Our night has just begun,” she said softly. “Let's stay a while.”

The Procedure

AFTER THE INEXPLICABLE
phenomenon that made us throw our inhibitions to the wind and rekindle the love we once felt for each other, Yvette and I found ourselves yearning for a future that we could only hope would come. Sitting side by side under the weeping willow, we floated off into reverie and talked about the dreams we wanted to accomplish, should Dr. Walker's miracle cure give us another chance to live. Yvette talked about finding her father, which to me sounded like a complete waste of a dream. I mean, why would you try to find someone who doesn't want to be found?—or worse, someone who'd never try to find you?

But I guess she believed that closure was something we all need in order to move on with our lives. She even tried to convince me, at some point, that finding my mother was something I should definitely include in my to-do list—or our Dream List, as we liked to call it. But the sullen look on my face gave away my thoughts on the subject.

“What?” she asked. “Wouldn't you like to find her, and know why she did what she did?”

Her words made me consider that for a moment. “No,” I answered finally.

“Why?”

“Because no explanation could ever justify or vindicate walking out on a six-year-old child and breaking the heart of a good man like my father. She killed him the day she left, and that's not something I'd ever be able to forget.” I paused ruefully. “I don't hate her, you know? But I'm afraid that if I ever saw her or listened to her, I would begin to. And I don't want that.”

She looked at me pitifully and cupped the side of my face. “You couldn't hate anyone, Victor. It's not in your nature.”

I went for her hand, kissed it, and held it in mine, my eyes wide and sincere. “Thank you, Yvee. But that's something I hope I'll never have to prove.” Then, taking a deep breath and heaving a rueful sigh, I deliberately strayed from the subject. “Why don't you just tell me what else you have in mind for your Dream List, huh?”

“Right.” She acknowledged my avoidance and gave in. “Well, let's see... I always wanted to visit the Bolshoi Theatre in Russia,” she said.

I laughed quizzically. “Okay, you're going to have to explain that one.”

She laughed, too, and spun around on her bottom to face me. Her skillful legs locked into the lotus position at the end of her spin, with an ease that would make any yogini jealous. “All right,” she began, with a radiant look on her face. “The Bolshoi Theatre is one of the oldest and most renowned ballet theatres in the world. Not to mention that it's a work of art, complete with Imperial décor, nineteenth-century wooden fixtures, and French-made red velvet banquettes...”

Her eyes flickered with excitement as she described this incredible Russian landmark. I listened attentively to every detail. And though the Bolshoi sounded like a remarkable tourist destination, I couldn't help but sense a more powerful reason for her wanting to visit. For me, it felt like an incomplete equation, so as soon as she finished, I probed for the missing variable.

“Well, it sounds like an amazing place,” I noted. “But you still haven't told me why. Why that theatre? Why Russia?”

She glanced away, hesitant. “You may find my reason a little strange.”

“Oh, come on!” I encouraged. “Strange? It's been the genre of my life.”

She laughed aloud. “I thought I had a patent on that genre.”

“Uh-uh. Come on, tell me,” I insisted.

She considered for a moment as she raised her eyes anew to the now-fading aurora. A soft breeze made her shiver and wrap her arms around herself. So I offered my body heat to keep her warm. “Come here,” I said, suggesting she sit next to me again. She gave me a coy smile and moved to cuddled under my arm. I rested my face against her hair, getting lost in her scent, and then appealed for her to continue.

After a wistful sigh, she yielded: “Ever since I can remember, I've had this recurring dream in which I see myself standing on the stage of the Bolshoi Theatre. But the auditorium is completely empty. Not one seat is occupied—and yet, I feel the compelling need to perform. The music for Odette's solo begins to play, my body begins to move, and I dance. I dance like I've never danced before. With no restrictions, no mistakes. Then, when the music finally fades down, I hear the applause of a single person. I look up, and there she is.” She stopped.

“Who?” I urged.

“My mother,” she answered, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Clearing a knot in her throat, she continued. “After years of having this dream, one day I recognized the stage in a television special I was watching with my Aunt Becky. She told me that Mom's dream was always to dance for the Bolshoi Ballet Company, and perform in that beautiful theatre. But she never did. I know that finding out that the place I'd been dreaming about for so long was real, and that it somehow had a connection with my mother, should've freaked me out. But it didn't. On the contrary, it inspired me.” She mused for a long second. “Anyway, I know that not many people would understand. But I feel like it would be a tribute to her. If I could just dance to her favorite piece, even if the theatre were empty, her spirit would be all the audience I'd ever need.”

She stopped then, and looked up for my reaction. “What do you think?” she asked.

“I think it's perfect,” I said sincerely. “And I'm sure she'd look upon you proudly.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and burrowed deeper into my chest. “What about you?” she asked. “You haven't said much about your Dream List. What would you like to do?”

I sighed deeply. “Well, I wouldn't call it a list, really; mine only has one thing on it. But you know what? In a way, I think it resembles your dream—not that I would dance or anything. But my dad also had a dream that he didn't get to see realized. And I guess, at some point, it became mine, too. I always thought that he would look upon me from wherever he is, and smile proudly.” I paused for a moment to glance at her meaningfully. “At least now I know I'm not the only one who thinks like this.”

She studied my face for a moment. “What's the dream?” she asked.

“To sail around the world,” I said wistfully. “To live the remainder of my life at sea. Anyway, after my dad died, I received a letter from the truck company involved in my accident. Their settlement was not only unexpected, but it was more than enough to realize my dad's lifelong dream. So I went down to the marina and I started looking for sailboats. I set my eyes on this beautiful Bavaria Cruiser 36 and told the sales broker that I'd be back as soon as I cashed my check.”

“That's amazing, Victor!” Yvette cheered. “I bet you couldn't wait to set sail.”

I pressed my lips together tightly and gave her a regretful look. “Well... I did get the check, but I didn't buy the boat.”

“Why?” she asked, disappointed.

“I thought it would be a waste, you know? With me dying and all.” I shrugged, dispirited.

Still in my arms, she turned around and enveloped me with her big, mesmerizing, blue eyes, her voice soft as she pleaded, “Don't say that again, please. I don't want to hear you speak like that anymore. I know life hasn't always been what we hoped. But I'm convinced now that what's happened here tonight is a beginning, not an end. I want you to believe, just like I do, that tomorrow really will be the first day of a new life—for all of us. I want you to believe that the only thing that
will die here is our pain. And I want you to promise me that when all this is over, you will get that boat.” She smiled encouragingly. “Okay?”

I favored her with an elated smile as I tucked her silky hair behind her ear. “I'll promise on one condition. You'd have to be my first mate for the duration of the sail.”

She looked down, fighting an embarrassed smile, her face flushed tomato red. “Um-hmm.” She pretended to consider—her smile seemed mischievous now. “And what does this position entail, exactly?” she asked coquettishly.

I smiled softly and said, “To be one with your boat...” gliding my fingers down her temple, over her cheek, and stopping at the corner of her enticing lips, “...and to be one with your captain,” I added with a whisper, my lips reaching for hers.

“And how long would this journey last?” she asked under her breath, trembling, our lips almost touching now—

“Oh, it's bound to last forever.”

Our lips met in another passionate kiss that turned our doubts into certitude, and our dreams into the desire we needed to finally see them through. And though questions remained about that night, one thing was for certain: We would never be the same. And we not only knew it, we wanted it that way.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Let's set sail, my Captain.”

***

Our kiss ended abruptly when a powerful beam of light shone on our faces, making us pull apart. A natural reflex brought my hand to my face, trying to block the powerful glare, which left a bunch of purple dots printed in the backs of my eyes. Soon, I realized that the beams came from the portable searchlights of the security guards.

“Hey! What are you doing out here?” one of the guards shouted, aiming the blazing light at my face. My eyes shut immediately, feeling the burn of hundreds of hot needles piercing into my skull, igniting my blasted headache all over again. “Please, don't,” I growled.

The same obnoxious guard who had intercepted me at the door recognized me as soon as he heard my voice. “Oh, it's you,” he said disgustedly. “Didn't I tell you patients weren't allowed outside the building? How the hell did you get out here, anyway?” he demanded, shining the blinding light full in my face.

I cursed in pain.

“Stop!” Yvette shouted, realizing my agony. “You're hurting him!”

It didn't take long for the guards to realize that the lights were the cause of my behavior. Most of them turned them off, while others flashed them down to the ground—except for the obnoxious Head of Security, who still remained skeptical.

“I'm serious!” Yvette snapped. “Turn it off!”  

He finally backed down, reluctantly, aiming away the searchlight. “Take them back to their rooms, and make sure they stay there,” he ordered one of his peers. “And you!” he turned to me, raising a menacing finger. “No more screwing around, you understand?”

I raised my head slowly, regaining full function, and responded, “Whatever you say, doorman.”

He gave me a stern look and walked away, ordering one of his subordinates to take over.

The young guard left in charge rushed to help me up, with genuine concern in his eyes—a far better person than his nominal superior. I got back on my feet and let him know I was good to walk. He escorted Yvette and me back to the mansion, and insisted on seeing us back to our respective rooms.

Yvette and I couldn't believe that our night was over. I could see the wan look on her face as we began to walk in opposite directions. Her fingers, entwined with mine, held on to the last minute, until they finally slipped away. We then stopped at our respective thresholds and turned around, desperate to catch one last glimpse of each other.  

“Thank you,” she said. “It was a wonderful night, Victor. I'll never forget it.”

“It was my pleasure,” I replied gallantly.

“Come on, guys!” the guard shouted from the elevator, annoyed. “I want to hear those doors close.”

We laughed, embarrassed.

“Will I see you in the lab tomorrow?” she asked, her head leaned back against the half-open door.

“You'll see me in your dreams tonight.”

She smiled. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Reluctantly, our doors closed at the same time.

The next morning I woke up with a brand new desire to live. All I could think of was Yvette, and how desperately I wanted to see her again. I jumped out of bed and into the shower and got ready in a flash, excited about the big day. I almost didn't recognize myself in the mirror when I wiped off the fog to see my face; I just couldn't stop smiling, and I knew it was all because of her.

I was just about to leave the room when I heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” I answered.

“Good morning, Mr. Bellator,” an older woman wearing scrubs greeted me as she entered the room. “I'm Nurse Jacky, and I'm here to take you down to the lab.”

“Oh… I didn't know someone was coming to get me.”

She nodded with an obviously forced smile.

“I'm sorry, um... Are you taking Ms. Montgomery too?” I asked hopefully.

She glanced at her clipboard. “Hmmm... no,” she answered, “It looks like she was the first one to be taken to the lab this morning.”

“Oh.” My disappointment was obvious. But then I thought of her being one step closer to getting her life back, and I smiled to myself. 

“Ready?” Nurse Jacky asked.

I smiled nervously. “Yeah.”

“Then let's go!” She gestured towards the door.

Once at the elevators, she used a special keycard to activate a hidden sub-panel that showed access to several levels underground. She gestured for me to climb on board and pushed the button for the lowest floor. For a moment there, I couldn't help but wonder about the unusual layout of this strange facility. But my thoughts derailed when the elevator doors opened again.