Dead Awake: The Last Crossing by hades Read Free Book Online

memories come to me now. The echoes of my words. “My sweet
Noelia run! There is a place to sit! You will look so pretty on
this wooden bench!” Memories of her beauty and my attraction. “You
will look so pretty here. You will look so pretty
there.”
    The sun was beginning to go
down, creeping over the horizon and onto the rocks, casting a
perfect shadow. Even I could tell this would be a great picture:
great focus, perfect center; she smiled and teased, cupping her
hand inside the water, just the way I showed her, so that we might
get that perfect pose. “Smile now, and blow me a kiss.” I said, but
she didn’t understand until I made the kissing gesture. Even then,
she wasn’t sure if I was flirting with her, or wanting her to do
the same. I admit, I wasn’t sure either. I think I wanted the kiss.
Then, “click-click,” and she was caught puckering at me. I’ll keep
that one forever. I think I caught her having the best time of her
life, or maybe I caught myself.
    We walked back, laughing and
smiling, because we liked one another. I was sad to have to leave
her. I don’t know if I should have felt that sad so soon, but I
longed to be with her and leaving now was very opposite to what I
wanted to do. I’m not sure why my heart seamed to ache at the
thought of even a second away from her, but at least one thing I
was sure of: I was missing her already, and I hadn’t even left
yet.
    The rest of the formalities
were pleasant. Her parents treated me nice and gave me a cake to
eat on my way back. Higinia had baked it for me and had wrapped it
in a cloth. The kids said good-bye to me by swinging from my arms,
and the Jose-Luis gave me a friendly nod. Higinia wanted to make
sure that I would come back, and that this wasn’t just another one
time visit, “North American style”. She asked me in Guarani, and
was very meticulous in making sure I knew that I was welcome and
that they wanted me back. Noelia was behind her mom, equally eager
to know when I’d return, and whispering to her mom’s ear the
questions she wanted answered. That part I didn’t know, until she
told me later on one of our exploration-walks through the island
jungles.
    On the walk to my room, I
tried to convince myself to turn back, thinking up various plans,
but never came up with a decent excuse. If I turn back, I proposed,
they’d ask why I’ve called on them so soon. I’ll have to stay on my
course. That’s the only thing to do.
    I approached my room and
once again I saw a note attached to my door. “Must be another
poem.” I thought out loud, with a mixture of joy and dread. It was
great that I had received another, for the first had been so great,
but I also thought of the trouble it would bring with Blanca and
sighed with heaviness. I took the paper off the nail.
    Indeed, it was another poem,
written in Guarani, or some other local language. In either case I
didn’t understand it and that meant that Blanca would have to know
about it. It would upset her more, no doubt. That was too bad,
because I didn’t like to see her troubled.
    I went inside. My door was
slightly ajar; and I thought for a moment that the person who
dropped the note had come inside as well. Instead, I found an oddly
shaped individual with a long black beard sitting on my bed. He was
holding a small book and nodded the moment he saw me, as if he’d
been expecting me. I suddenly recognized the man as Irvin, a
medicine priest that I had met on my early morning walk that day. I
had completely forgotten about our appointment! I had asked him to
come and look at the poem I had received, in an attempt to prove to
Blanca that it was not evil. I was glad I hadn’t missed him, and
hoped he had not been waiting long.
    Irvin opened his book and
then asked for the note. I presumed he wanted it when he pointed to
me with his old stringy finger. I tried to explain that the note I
was holding was not the original note, but a new one. I don’t think
he understood, but took