Her mystery unveiled in the night, I didn't see her face the first time but there was only a feeling of terror and tenderness. Something long forgotten had wondered its way into my soul, standing there in a field of flowers i felt an air that carried a scent familiar to my nose...like a ghost it brushed gently against me and the sound of fabric rustling in the tall flowers caught my attention.
I turned slowly, certain i would find a person...someone standing behind me but there was only a presence. An outline of absence and a longing to unravel the face behind the glow of pure love plaguing me in that moment, falling into a dreamy daze i began to lose touch with the ground as everything warped.
Then suddenly my feet landed on a new ground without a sound as if gently placed, it was a land of honey and milk. Its beauty unlike anything the Earth could produce, the land around me began to shift ...the horizon unraveling like threads of silk dissolving into the bright light of a setting sun and there in the middle of that light began to emerge the visage of a woman.
A figure barely formed, standing still like a truth waiting to be remembered. She didn't move and yet it felt like she had always been moving.....towards me, i opened my mouth to utter her name although i didn't know it. Then...a soft vibration woke him up as a notification sparked up his phone.
The dream spit at the center, light pouring through heavy eyelids caused him to blink with annoyance as his mother had been in his room to open the curtains and windows. He was alone on that single bed that had once been a large refuge, for a long time he lay there, staring at the ceiling trying to remember her and he failed. The taste of dreams still clinging to his mouth he couldn't coordinate his body to stand up, the morning light illuminated his room. Boxes filled the floor laying there unpacked, he had moved back in with his parents six months ago after university graduation.
They said it was only temporary "Until you find your feet" but poor Mars hadn't even found his ground, he sat up straight enduring the heavy weight of his sleepy body.
Downstairs he could hear the clink of dishes being washed, his father was already up and his mother humming to herself the way she did for as long as he could remember. The house had rhythms and he moved inside them like a ghost ....not disrupting anything...not adding mush either. Mars had no job, no plan, no ambition, and certainly no energy for fake aspirations. The degree on his shelf stared at him asking questions he didn't quite know how to answer, but the sweet illusion of night was all the bliss he needed.
By noon, the sun had settled high and heavy over the roof. The house grew quiet, too quiet....the kind of quiet right before someone knocked on your door. Mars sat cross legged on his bed sketching out vague lines that never really came off as anything, then suddenly the lines began to take form and it was her form.
A hard knock broke his trance, three hard raps with no pause "Mars!" his father called in a calm but firm voice "Can i come in" and before he could answer the door opened anyway.
Pastor Edmond Winter stood at the doorway tall and broad, dressed in his casual tracksuits. He looked down his eyes catching a glimpse of the drawing before Mars could close his sketchbook, his lips tightened "You're still doing that?" he asked while stepping into the room.
"I thought we talked about this Mars." his father sighed walking to the edge of his bed, "Son you've had six months, i gave you time to rest but now its time you made a choice...either you come with me to the church with me and start serving or you start applying for a proper job. You have a degree, don't let it rot on your shelf."
Mars looked away, he didn't know what proper work meant anymore he only knew what it didn't feel like 'alive'. "And don't say Art, that's not a job' as if reading his mind Edmond warned his son, "Edmond!" his mother called in a gentle warm tone, always stepping between them like a soft light through stained glass "Let him be, he is still finding his way" but his father persisted "He has had enough time" and his mother defended "He's had enough pressure," she said and added "Let the boy breath Ed!".
Mars kept his eyes on the floor, he wanted to thank her but even that felt heavy. He was tired of being defended, tired of being wrong in a house full of certainty. His father turned to leave the room but not before tossing a final line over his shoulder "Pray about it, God is always listening". The door closed as his parents left the room, and Mars sat in silence looking at the walls in his room projecting the dreams of a child who lost it all.
The sink filled slowly with warm water, soft steam curling up against the kitchen window. Mars slid his headphones over his ears, a low hum of ambient music settling into his bones. The world around him softened, faded....the clinking of plates replaced by a distant hue of sound, like the space around him was folding away. The music bloomed in his head and with it came visions, he wasn't in the kitchen anymore.
It was a studio...a vast room lit by sky light and curiosity, walls covered in sketches of machines that had not been invented yet. On one side a glowing orb suspended on a magnetic cradle shifting shape as he adjusted the dials. On the other, a canvas so tall he had to climb a ladder just to finish a single brushstroke, each stroke alive with color that whispered a soul of meaning. A droplet of water splashed on his wrist, cold and sudden it drew him back to reality as Mars had finished washing the dishes.
A tiny tug at the hem of his shorts pulled Mars out of the stars, he looked down and saw a small hand wrapped around the fabric chubby fingers, tiny fingernails. His baby brother 'Caleb', had somehow waddled his way in from the living room, cheeks flushed from a long nap, hair sticking up like little sunbeams.
"Mah-mah," Caleb babbled, looking up at him with wide eyes the color of early skies. Mars pulled off one headphone, smiling. "Hey, little man. You sleep well?"
Caleb didn't answer not with words. He just grinned, swayed a little on his feet, and reached up with both arms. Mars leaned down and picked him up effortlessly, settling the boy on his hip. The scent of baby powder and blankets clung to him like comfort. Caleb rested his head on Mars's shoulder, eyes still foggy from dreams of his own.
Something in Mars softened....cracked open!
In Caleb's face, he saw her eyes again not exactly, but close enough to stir the memory. Not the dreams, but something older. Something buried ,faint and sun-washed like a photo left in the sun too long. Kindergarten...
A sandbox under the Benjamin trees, paper crowns and painted hands. He remembered a girl with soft blonde hair tied in twin braids, a gentle voice, and a blue ribbon that matched her eyes. They used to build little stick houses together, quiet partners in imagination while the other kids chased each other around.
He hadn't thought about her in years. Had forgotten her name, but not the feeling. The same feeling he had in the dreams. That strange sense of peace and belonging, like he had always known her.
"Who were you?" he whispered under his breath, not expecting an answer.
Caleb stirred slightly, then touched Mars's face with his tiny hand, as if trying to wake him from some invisible thought.
Mars kissed the boy's forehead. "You ever feel like someone's been following you your whole life? But backwards?" Caleb blinked up at him....then yawned.
Mars smiled, "Yeah! Me too."
The sky was turning gold when his mother called him from the living room "Mars, can you run to the store? We're out of diapers, and maybe grab some milk too."
He didn't argue, a walk would help and the late afternoon air had that softness to it like the day was breathing slower now...easing into the quiet. Mars slipped his headphones around his neck but didn't press play, sometimes it helped just to hear the world in all its different colors. The corner store was only a few blocks away, small and tuck between a laundromat and a beauty salon. The bell above the door gave a tired jingle as he walked in, the kind that seemed to echo even after the door closed.
He headed straight for aisle five, where the diapers were stacked like sleepy towers. In that moment as he turned into the aisle he saw her, she stood there near baby products holding a bottle of lotion. Not the woman from his dreams...no. But still, something made him pause. She started crouching beside the shelf, trying to reach for a lotion on the higher rack. Blonde...not quite the same shade, blue eyes...not quite the same clarity. But there was a softness in her that caught him, not just in her face, but in how she moved...careful....unrushed. He hesitated! She looked over suddenly, and their eyes met.
"Oh! sorry," she said, standing with the bottle in hand. "Did I block you?"
Mars shook his head "No, not at all. I was just… figuring out which one my mom meant." he pointed towards the diaper packs.
She smiled, brushing hair behind her ear. "Ah, diaper duty."
He laughed, surprised at how light it came out. "Yeah...my baby brother's basically a tiny dictator."
"Mine still uses baby products" she said, pointing to her baby sister "Isabel, by the way."
"Mars," he said, then added "Like the planet."
Her eyes lit up, "That's kind of poetic."
He shrugged, trying not to seem like it mattered. "It has its moments."
There was a pause......not awkward, just full of possibility. For a flicker of time, the store felt like a movie set. The fluorescent lights above warmed....the cart wheels stopped squeaking, and the world leaned in. They ended up talking by the cereal aisle for almost twenty minutes. About everything and nothing, she liked to paint, he admitted he did too, she liked weird movies and so did he.
For a moment, Mars felt the weight in his chest loosen. Something about her felt familiar...like a faded echo of the woman from his dreams. Not her voice, not her face but the intention. The quiet and yet… when he looked at Isabel, a fearful whisper rose in the back of his mind. 'She's not the one' and he hated that.