Atlantis (2 page)

“
The new neighbors have a son. And boy is he dreamy!” I gushed as I plopped down on the bed with Charlotte.

“
How old is he?”

“
I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

“
I bet you just quietly said ‘hi’ and didn’t even make a move,” Charlotte stabbed her words at me. “Your shyness could be considered a disorder.”

“
Yeah. Pretty much,” I blushed. “But, he wasn’t. He asked me to show him around.”

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open. “Did you?”

“
Yeah. I brought him to the park.”

“
Figures,” she said, her baby blue eyes rolling back in her head, displeased. “Only you would bring a good looking piece of man meat to a cemetery. Did he run away screaming?”

“
No. He liked my park. Elliott did seem a bit weirded out by my trance though.”

“
Trance?” Charlotte crossed her arms, waiting. “Explain.”

I told Charlotte about my epiphany, and how I may have freaked Elliott out - a bit. Charlotte was good at listening, but not at understanding. She made fun of me.

“
Lil, have you gone completely nuts? I know you don’t sleep much, but come on. Wait. That must be it. Your brain isn’t trying to tell you that there is
more
, but that it wants more, more
sleep.
”

“
No. This was more than some minor mental musing, or a seizure. I really think I’m onto something.”

“
And. . . I don’t. Tell me more about the neighbor boy. Elliott was it?”

“
Well, he has olive skin and dark brown hair. Tall.”

“
Everyone is tall, to you,” Charlotte laughed.

“
Do you want a description or not?”

Our friend, Nicholas, then tapped on the glass. Charlotte’s eyes shot to my window. “Not,” she replied.

Nicholas was another one of the freakishly tall people that seemed to gravitate to me. He hit his shaggy blond head on my window as he let himself in.

“
Damn it!” he cussed under his breath.

“
Janet,” Charlotte and I said in unison. We all laughed at our inside joke that we derived from Nicholas’s favorite movie.

“
Do you hoes wanna go get something to eat?” Nicholas asked.

“
Heck yes! I’m starving. Watching Theory nibble crackers was making me hungry,” Charlotte happily chimed.

“
How bout you, Lil?” Nicholas said as he directed his attention to me.

I looked at Charlotte and she looked conflicted. I knew she both wanted me to come, and not, at the same time. I didn’t feel like dealing with her drama today.

“
No thanks Nitch-o-las. I want to attempt a nap,” I replied with a yawn.

Nicholas and Charlotte then proceeded to exit my room the very way they came in, through the window.

I sat on my bed for a moment before deciding to eat my favorite meal of soda crackers and Dr Pepper as a late breakfast. Theory had made me hungry too.

I ran downstairs and ransacked the fridge for a Dr Pepper. I had my own store of crackers tucked away in my room. I managed to avoid my mother and all the questions that were sure to be flung at me about the new neighbors. She would be all too pleased with herself for making me go welcome them. I thought it best to postpone that as long as possible.

Once back in my room, I sat down at my desk, hit play on my stereo, and listened to the music while I enjoyed my food. I loved the sweet and salty combination. When my tummy was satisfied, I unzipped my hoodie, turned off the light, and closed my blinds. Sleep eluded me so well when it was dark. I didn’t have much faith in achieving any decent amount of z’s midday. I still tried.

Time dragged. I lay in bed trying to sleep, scrutinizing my room instead. My royal blue walls comforted me. I was still surprised that my mom let me paint the walls so dark. I propped myself up in the corner, between my bed and the wall, as my eyes danced across the collage of band posters and friend pictures that covered most of the opposing wall. Stacks of books were everywhere. Three cd's later, my eyelids started to feel heavy. Exhausted as I was, sleep didn’t come. Insomnia really sucks!

I could feel my body succumbing to sleep, but my mind started to race again. Darting randomly from Elliott, to my epiphany, and back to Elliott. Then there was a knock on my door.

“
Lilly, dinner’s ready,” my mother said through the door.

I sprinted down to the kitchen table. My little sister, Sophie, was already there. I ate the spaghetti as fast as possible while I answered, as vaguely as I could, the flood of questions my mother unleashed on me. Finishing dinner first, I quickly dumped my plate into the sink as I ran back to my room muttering something about being tired.

Once in my harbor, I decided to read the art history book I had recently bought. The glossy color images of the paintings, drawings and sculptures fascinated me. Let alone the history hidden within the art. I had recently learned that it was not uncommon to weave
secret messages
into a painting. One of the examples in the book was of a painting called
The French Ambassadors
, in which a skull is hidden in plain view. Two men flank either side of the painting, and apparently the long, gray shape that slashes through the center of the painting is really a skull that can only be seen with a special mirror.
Awesome
, I thought.

A light tapping on my window made me look up. A quick glance at the clock surprised me that it was already ten. I turned, expecting to see Charlotte or Nicholas letting themselves in. I was shocked when I recognized in the moonlight that my visitor was Elliott, waiting for me to let him in.

I stumbled out of bed as I made my way to the window. I had an unusual amount of trouble getting it open in my flustered state.

“
Good evening,” whispered his warm, comforting voice. “May I come in?”

The proper way in which he spoke reminded me of my favorite romantic comedy, with him sounding like the foreign lead actor. It managed to blow all thought from my mind. “Uh-huh,” was all I could manage as I moved out of the way and he stepped into my room.

“
Sorry. I hope you don’t mind me using the window.”

Elliott misunderstood. My confusion wasn’t that he used the window. It was that he was there period.

“
I noticed your friends climbing in and out of here all day. I hope it’s okay with you,” he grinned a sly smile.

He noticed my friends? He was watching? For me?
I thought. Even though it sounded borderline stalker, I was flattered.

“
Sure. Does that mean you forgive me for being a total idiot today?” I asked. My eyebrows furrowed. I could feel sleep finally creeping up on me. Maybe it had already.

“
There is nothing to forgive you for. Myself, however,“ Elliott seemed angry at himself. “I am sorry for not being more understanding. What happened anyway?”

“
I came to a realization, that’s all.” I bit my lip. I wasn’t about to say more.

“
You are extremely mysterious,” he said with a smile.

“
Thanks?” The room looked fuzzy.

“
And beautiful.”

The confusion in my eyes left. I must be dreaming.

“
Well, I just wanted to see you again and say goodnight,” he grinned as he leaned into me and gave me an unexpected hug. Electricity flowed through my body, once again, in response to his touch. Can you dream physical contact? It seemed so real.

Elliott crawled back out my window. He paused on the roof outside and whispered to me, “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. And you are both.” Elliott smiled then disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter 2. The Dream

I fell onto my bed in a daze. Did I just hallucinate? That couldn’t have happened. Could it?

My thoughts flew out of control, and out the window. It wasn’t until I realized the unnatural absence of sound that I figured I must be dreaming.

I was walking down the hidden path to my park as usual. It was dark and late. But there wasn’t a sound. No animals scurrying, no leaves rustling, no wind. I couldn’t even make out the crunching of the gravel beneath my feet as I moved forward to my favorite place in the world.

Tonight my park was different somehow. It still looked the same; all the headstones stood as before; the wildflowers were dancing in the moonlight. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of my uneasiness. A strange glimmer caught my eye from across the meadow. The moonlight was reflecting off one of the headstones in a bizarre way that drew me in.

Inching forward, I started to make out the small shape that was the culprit of the shimmer. It was a ring. I rubbed my eyes. There was a peculiar way the moon held this ring in its light. I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I should touch it.

As I reached for the ring, a cool breeze shot a warning up my spine. My pale skin erupted in goosebumps. I looked around the meadow again. No one was there. I was alone.

My hand slowly caressed the rough stone, as my fingers crept up to the shining silver circle. I placed the ring in my hand. It was frigid. It couldn’t have been here for long. How odd. I would think that the warm summer night would warm the metal in no time.

I held the ring up, examining it closer in the moonlight. A perfect oval opal mounted a tarnished silver band. It looked delicate and old fashioned. The smooth opal’s hidden facets shimmered brilliantly. A hundred different colors sparkled, trapped from within the stone.