Mystery Skulls Soul On Fire


Mystery Skulls Soul On Fire


Mystery Skulls Soul On Fire

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The man in the black leather jacket and jeans was a stranger. He stood before me, his dark eyes fixed on my face with an expression that seemed to say: Are you real? I felt as if he were peering through me into some other world behind my eyes.

Or maybe it was more like he’d glanced over my shoulder into another dimension of time and space; a parallel universe where the past and future are one. Maybe even beyond.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said. “You’re late.”

He was dressed in loose-fitting clothes and had long hair hanging down to his shoulders—the kind of long, unkempt hair popularized by The Doors lead singer Jim Morrison. But this guy didn’t have a big rock ‘n’ roll voice or look at all like him. He just looked like himself.

A handsome young man who could easily pass for twenty-five years old rather than thirty, but then again that might be because I’m getting older. His eyes were large and deep set. And they stayed fixed on mine.

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

His gaze remained steady, and he suddenly started laughing. It sounded like a roar. Like a bullfrog. I’d never heard anything so loud come out of a human being’s mouth before. Then he walked toward me, stopping about three feet away.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “You don’t remember me. But I know you. We went to high school together. You were a year ahead of me, but we shared a class once upon a time.”

He was right: I did recognize him. There was something vaguely familiar about him, though not really his face. His features weren’t distinct enough to make out. He was probably a little shorter than I remembered him, too.

But there was no doubt he was a friend of mine. At least I thought that’s what he meant when he said we’d known each other in another life.

Then he reached forward, and grabbed my hands, pulling them up close to his chest. I felt warmth emanating from him as if he were burning inside. He had a strange sensation about him, almost as though he were made of fire. As if he were glowing.

“Look at us now,” he said. “We’re the same age. How did that happen?”

I pulled back my hand, trying to shake off the intensity of his touch. I could feel the energy radiating from him, almost as if he’d become a living battery.

“Who are you?” I asked.

He laughed again, but this time I sensed it wasn’t mockingly. This time it sounded more like he was relieved. He had waited a long time for me to show up.

“There’s no need to ask me who I am,” he said. “You already know. You’ve always known.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t know you at all.”

“Of course you do,” he replied. “We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. That’s why you came here. You wanted to see me again.”

“How did you find me?” I asked.

He smiled, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter how I found you. What matters is that we meet again after all those years.”

“Why didn’t you ever visit me in New York? Why didn’t you come to our wedding?”

“I sent you a gift,” he said. “Didn’t you receive it?”

“Yes, but…”

“What’s wrong? Don’t you trust me anymore?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just…you’re dead! Why would you send me something that’s going to rot on my kitchen table?”

“It was better than rotting on your mind,” he said. “It was a reminder of what lies beneath the surface of things, the stuff of life, the soul. Of course, you received it, even though you may not have recognized it for what it was.”

“If you died, why did you wait so long for me to show up?”

“Because we were meant to meet again. Because you needed to talk to me, and I needed to hear what you had to say.”

“About what?”

“Everything. About everything. All the important moments in our lives. When we first met. Our last conversation. Everything. From the beginning to the end.”

“And you think I’ll still remember all that?”

“Not just you. Me, too.”

“But I don’t understand why you’re here, or why you’re telling me all of this.”

He took a step back, looking around.

“This place isn’t exactly what you’d call an oasis, is it?” he said. “Nothing but a pile of rocks and sand.”

“Actually,” I said, “I’m quite fond of it here. It’s peaceful. Quiet. It has its own way of making you feel at home.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. There’s nothing here for me. Nothing but memories. And they’re fading fast.”

“What do you mean?”

“The moment I die, it will be just like waking up from a dream. No one will believe what happened to me. I might as well have been asleep for the past fifteen years. Everyone I know won’t even remember that I existed.

I guess I should count myself lucky that I got to spend some time with you before I finally closed my eyes for good. We’ve spent so many lifetimes together, yet somehow I never knew how much I missed you until now.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll stay with you.”

“Thank you. I know you will.”

“Shouldn’t we go somewhere else?”

“All right then,” he said. “Let’s get started.”

***

A few minutes later we were walking along a sandy beach toward a small village on the other side of the peninsula. The air was hazy, filled with smoke from wood-burning stoves and charcoal ovens. We walked through the narrow streets of the town.

Every now and then people looked out their doors, curious at the sight of a ghost wandering the streets. Some stared at us as though they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Others, however, were afraid—afraid of what lay beyond the veil between life and death.

“People used to live in caves like these,” he said. “They lived by the sea, and they wore animal skins for clothes. They ate fish caught in the river nearby and gathered fruits and nuts from the trees. Their houses were built on piles of rocks, and whenever a storm came they prayed to Poseidon for protection. It was a simpler time. A better time. Harder in some ways, easier in others.”

“So what changed? Why did they leave?”

“They lost faith, of course. They stopped believing that the gods would protect them. Instead of relying on the power of nature, they turned to the power of man. But there’s only so much human ingenuity can accomplish.

It takes more than human strength to build a house. It takes divine guidance. The gods abandoned them. And when the gods abandoned them, it was only a matter of time until humans followed.”

“We shouldn’t have left,” he added. “That was our mistake. That was the final straw. Before long, the people forgot about the gods altogether, and became just like everyone else, a part of the world instead of apart from it.”

“Then why did you come back?”

“I couldn’t stay away forever. And besides, I missed you.”

“Me, too, but…”

“And I wanted to see you one last time. To thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” He looked down at his feet, kicking at the sand. “You know, I never realized how much I missed you until now. Or maybe it’s just that I never thought I’d ever see you again, and I didn’t want to miss the chance.”

“Can we stop for a minute?” I asked. “I need to take a leak.”

“Of course,” he said. “Follow me.”

At the edge of the village, we found a secluded spot behind a cluster of rocks. I pulled off my shirt and pants, leaving them where they fell. The sand felt cold against my skin, prickly and uncomfortable. I squatted down, pressing my palms into the sand, letting it cool the warmth of my body. Then I took aim and let loose. Afterward, I stood up, straightening out my clothes.

“It feels weird without a shirt,” I said.

“Yes,” he replied, “it does. Let’s put it back on.”

“No, I think I’ll keep it off. I’d rather not attract attention.”

“All right,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

There were no trees in the area, but I could hear the sound of the ocean nearby. As we walked further along the shoreline, I saw a tall rock jutting out of the water, a lone tree growing from its top. I climbed onto it, sitting next to him. The two of us watched the waves crash against the rocks below.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I wanted to show you something.”

“Show me what?”

“How far we’ve come. How much has changed.”

“But that’s not very romantic,” I said. “Is this supposed to make me feel better or worse?”

“It doesn’t really matter which way it makes you feel. The point is that we’re different now. You’ve grown up. I’ve changed, too. Things aren’t what they used to be, and it’s important to understand that. It’s not always going to be easy, but that’s life. We have to accept change. Otherwise, we become stagnant, trapped within our own little worlds.”

“So what are you saying?”

“That we should stay together, despite the changes. We could start anew. Make a new home. Build a new kind of life.”

“A whole new world,” I said.

“Exactly,” he said. “We can do whatever we want. Whatever we imagine.”

“Anything?”

“Absolutely anything.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do. Do you doubt me?”

“Never,” I said. “But…but I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“What if things don’t work out? What happens then? Will you still love me after everything that’s happened? Can we make a new life together? What if…”

“Hey, listen,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to tell you this since the moment I met you, but I haven’t found the words. I know that you’re afraid, and I’m sorry for that. I wish there was some way to make you forget your fears, to erase the past.

I wish we could go back to the way things were, before the flood, and just pretend that none of this had ever happened. But even I can’t do that. There’s nothing I can say or do to change what’s already happened.”

“I know,” I said. “But I still fear the future. What will happen when we finally reach the other side of the mountain? What if we find ourselves back in the land of the dead? Will you still be able to look at me with those loving eyes? Will you still feel the same way about me?”

He smiled at me. He reached out and placed his hands over mine.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t let you go. I promise.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For being by my side. For giving me a reason to live. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s go back. People will be wondering where we’ve gone.”

“Okay,” I said.

The two of us headed back toward the village. On our way, we passed several people walking along the beach, heading home from their day at sea. They all stopped as they spotted us, pointing and whispering.

When they saw me, they began to point and whisper again, but their voices grew fainter and fainter until it seemed like we were surrounded only by the sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks below.

The End

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