A Lost Journal 1

January 2, 1994

“I can hear you.”

It passed through my head like a shrieking pain. It was his voice. It was as real as any of his whispers or proclamations of spiritual enlightenment. His voice was soft, smooth and deep, just like when he leaned in to kiss my cheek on that fateful day before he fell to depths too deep. He was here and he was real.

“I heard you. I am here and I won’t leave.” I whispered.

It came again. A slow rhythmic tone, followed by a lisp. I could almost make out the words that drifted up through the topsoil. I didn’t want to dig because the groundskeeper might not appreciate the desecration, no he wouldn’t like that. The thing is, I heard him and I wanted to help him. He had to need help, why else would he speak to me now?

“Say something. I cannot understand what you're saying.”

I dug softly now, only removing the large clods of red dirt from the sifted second layer. My nails filled with compacted earth. I listened.

Live

That was it. I heard the word as clear as day. It was faint and covered in groggy slurs. Now I racked my brain as to what the word meant. “Live”, what did he mean by live? He was not alive, or was he? The sudden urge to dig came upon me in full force.

“Please…talk to me!”

September 13, 1992

“Read, here.”

He pointed to the scripture. His finger shook lightly because he wanted me to take him seriously and he was nervous. I took him seriously or as much as possible. His tan round face with long brown hair were a slight distraction. I watched his eyes, they were places that no sane woman could ever escape. I turned away quickly to save myself. He looked down and moved his finger across the first line and then the next.

“Look! I want you to see the correlation between what John is saying and what I told you the other day.”

I swallowed that old dreaded and faithful lump in my throat. “Listen, I don’t think you should twist the scriptures like that. It’s the word of God.”

He smiled. “Oh, but I’m twisting nothing. I am showing you something that most people cannot see. There is a stark connection between what I practice and what you practice. The striking thing is that you, my dear, are a little lost.”

I gasped, pushing a long auburn lock of hair behind my ear. “Oh really?  So, what are you, some prophet?”

He was beautiful. He turned his face to mine and presented me with a large and inviting smile. I caught his eyes just before he laughed. They squinted almost closed when he smiled. He laughed softly at every revelation that he gave me. It was everything in that moment and he was perfect.

“You know how we get stoned, as you call it?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, it says here…”

Matt flipped pages in a flurry, landing on a page very near revelations. I believe it was in Jude. He grabbed my finger and put it down on another scripture. “Look, here!”

I frowned as I read the verse. “That doesn’t have anything to do with what you said, Matt.”

He lay his hand atop mine and started to caress my fingers. “Yeah, but I got your attention, didn’t I? It’s here! I tell you, it’s here. I just forgot where it was and I promise I’m not lying to you. I tell you what, I will find it for you before next time.”

I shook my head. He was too much, always coming up with some wild idea that smoking weed was spiritual. It was always about getting high and not letting religious people try to bring him down. I suppose I was religious to Matt.

He saw me visually doubting him so he dropped his head. I heard him muttering.

“What are you carrying on about now, Matt?”

He shrugged.

“I mean it. I’m listening, tell me.”

I saw his eyes through the curtain of brown hair. His smirk was teasing me. “Listen, I have my notes here somewhere but Caryanne put them away. I have no idea where she put them. When I find them, I will show you.”

“Okay.”

I had to leave. I had spent too much time here with Matt and it wasn’t right.

“I have to go.”

He stood and his bare chest was at eye level to me. I stared at his brown skin and wanted to touch it. I forced myself to look up into his face. He took my face in his hands and caressed my ears. “Don’t go now.”

“I have to go, really.”

He tilted his head to the side and chuckled. “Well, if you must go, then go LIVE!”

I giggled and left him standing there. He stared at me because I looked back and caught his crazy smiled growing wide with another desperate revelation.

June 13, 1993

The water rushed across the rocks and down into the stream. I looked down into the flow watching my face contort this way and that. The sights and sounds were delicious, the trickling water tickled my mind and my ears. I loved the secret place, I loved it even more than the cave off the main highway over on the other side of town. I loved the secret place more than the deep woods behind my father’s house. I just loved the secret place because he was here with me and probably because we weren’t supposed to be here at all.

I wore little white flowers in my hair, twined into random braids. The Plaits were strewn amongst my long strands of amber locks which reached my waist. I wore a light blue sun dress which fell just below the knee. I was holding the hem now, as if holding the ends of my dress would keep me from falling into the creek. I believed it could. I believed many things and in some ways, my faith was unshakable.

“Love is important, Matt. It is the most important thing in the word.”

He came near to me, smiling about some mischievous plan.

“Love and freedom, those are the key. We must be free to partake of the earth’s bounty, my sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say that. I said LOVE was important, Matt.”

He chuckled at me. “Yes, I know. You will come around eventually and then you will thank me. You will live one day.”

I stood still. The sky called me look up and I did. I saw the cottony clouds, just as white as the little flowers in my hair and just as innocent as I wanted to be. Then I soared, I flew into the clouds right before I dropped the burning roach from my pinched fingers.

“Crap!”

I wobbled but he caught me. Sweeping me off my feet and falling onto the creek bank, Matt cradled me close.

“That was close, fairy. It’s okay.” Matt shifted and dug into his pocket. He retrieved a small baggie with stinky green. “I gotcha covered, little one.”

I laughed and pushed at his chest with my fists. “Let go of me! I wasn’t falling, you just can’t keep your hands off me! I don’t know what you’re talking about either. I don’t want any of that stuff!”

I climbed from his embrace and straightened my dress. Some of the little white flowers, those that kids make bracelets from, were falling from my braids. I picked a few loose ones and flung them to the ground.

“Look!” I pointed to my head and smirked. “Look what you did to me. I am a mess now, no longer a pretty little fairy and I’m dirty now too.”

I ran across the rocks, skipping and leaping down into the waterfall. The first splash was cool, livening my tan skin. I waded deeper past the edges of the creek and into the pool. I walked into the water wall. I was momentarily submerged in the warm water. It engulfed me, pushing more of the white flowers away in the flow. I closed my eyes and imagined I was flying through water in the sky. I was higher now, I was breathing the current and taking the life of the water into my soul. I was one with the woods, the trees and I was one with the prophet…the prophet who stood just outside the flow of the waterfall. I opened my eyes and, yes, he was there. He was naked and motionless. I closed my eyes and pulled my dress over my head, against the force of the water, against my morals and beliefs. I was dividing and releasing something that fought with my every desire. Live! It said live as the prophet entered the waters and took me into his arms. Through the water, I heard him say…

“Live!”