Blink disbelieving eyes chilled to the bone
Most visibly brave no apprehended gloom
First to take this foot to virgin snow
She closed her eyes and dreamed a dream; the soft embrace and adoring kiss of a lover that felt all at once familiar and foreign. In her dream, she opened her eyes, hoping to see the one with whom she held trust and faith for so long. But he wasn’t there. He had turned his back on her.
Instead, the face was friendly and welcoming; an acceptance not borne out of tolerance or reluctance, but of true care for her. The features were soft; not weak, but a warm softness that spoke of a strength underneath. She lifted herself on her elbows and gave into the kisses of the one who actually loved her….
Previously…
No mercy for either girl; her namesake almost a hopeless outcast in her own family; too similar and painful if somewhat dissimilar in circumstances. Susan looked up at the poster again.
“Maybe we both need to return?” She sighed and lay back on her bed; her head propped up by several pillows as she gazed out the window into the dark night.
“You and me!” She said finally. She turned over and cradled her head with her hand. Every night since she had lost her mother, she prayed and prayed and cried and prayed some more. And every night was met with a soft silence that seemed to promise answers someday soon. Soon can be a very long time for a child who feels alone and abandoned; even if she does have the love and support of a precious few. She closed her eyes and began to mouth words perhaps only she would hear and understand as she began to cry softly into the pillow.
“You and me,” she repeated before drifting off into a tear-filled, fitful sleep.
Can't close my eyes
They're wide awake
Ev'ry hair on my body
has got a thing for this place
Oh empty my heart
I've got to make room for this feeling
so much bigger than me
It couldn't be any more beautiful - I can't take it in
The girl sat high up on a large rock formation in the middle of a field of rolling bluffs; her view almost panoramic. And yet she felt closed in; a guilt almost smothering as she scanned the countryside. No one to talk with her about her shame. No friend to hold her hand. No parent to hold her in a welcoming embrace. And no one to love her.
She looked down at her clothes. Apart from the dust of the day, her garb remained unchanged. A long grayish green suede-like gown split to mid-thigh on both sides, revealing dark leggings and brown boots folded over at the above the calf. Her brown belt remained worn and spotty where the dye had rubbed off. She looked to her side and noticed her bow lying almost upright against a rock; a sentinel against any foe. But there were no foes. No one to speak rude words to her because there was no one around. None from Archenland or the Lonely Islands. None from her home and certainly none from the Land over the Sea. She was the solitary citizen of her world, apart from the wildlife that inhabited that lonely place.
She sighed deeply and rubbed her face. Her eyes had crusted over ever so slightly from her nightly tears, and the new dawn did nothing to abate the emptiness she felt. No one to care about her. Everyone….Everyone had walked away or had taken flight. Not a single one to tell her she mattered. And tears were not only reserved for nighttime. Crying wasn’t held back by the rise of the sun. She looked around again. The vista was as welcoming as a scene can be. But trees do not talk; at least in the world she now knew. No friendly animals to tell her she was important. No mythical beings with whom to dance in great joy. She thought she heard a hawk’s call; faint and faraway. But no other sound but the whoosh of the wind as it shoved and pushed her as she sat all by herself.
She closed her eyes and dreamed a dream; the soft embrace and loving kiss of a lover that felt all at once familiar and foreign. In her dream, she opened her eyes, hoping to see the one with whom she held trust and faith for so long. But he wasn’t there. He had turned his back on her.
Instead, the face was friendly and welcoming; an acceptance not borne out of tolerance or reluctance, but of true care for her. The features were soft; not weak, but a warm softness that spoke of a strength underneath. She lifted herself on her elbows and gave into the kisses of the one who actually loved her….
The De Pasquale home…..
“Susan?” The voice seemed to come from off world; she opened her eyes and instead of being greeted by the panorama of that lonely world, she found herself in a bed in a nice room with posters and trophies and pictures and a friendly familiar face that greeted her with a smile.
“Good….good morning.” Susan rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up. Lina walked over and sat down on the desk chair next to the bed. She leaned over and gave the girl a kiss on the forehead.
“You were talking in your sleep.” A soft laugh accompanied a half-smile. Susan saw that her Aunt was back-lit by the hallway light. She looked around the room and noticed that it was still dark.
“Almost dawn, honey.” Lina patted her on the arm.
“I…” Susan paused and sighed deeply. Resolve in the daytime can often be tugged and prodded by doubt in the night. But resolved she was.
“I told Tim goodbye.” Of course it wasn’t goodbye in the truest sense. They shared the same friends and interests, and they attended the same school, at least for the time-being. Lina nodded.
“I know.” The girl squinted and tilted her head.
“How…how could you know?”
“The look on your face when you got home last night after studying. You looked….relieved. And sad.”
“I….It hurts, Aunt Lina. I can’t believe how much it hurts.”
“But it was what you had to do.” Lina didn’t want to dismiss the girl’s pain, but she had to affirm the girl’s decision. In a lifetime filled with self-doubt, Susan needed to know her life was hers to live, and that included making hard choices. All of the things she was learning just then should have been given as gifts to her so long ago, but for the neglect of one and the sad departure of another.
“I still feel like a fool.”
“Oh, honey. No. Not foolish.” The girl’s lack of understanding was almost naíve, but almost unavoidable given the lack of affirmation. Lina paused and looked away.
“You trusted. Your trust was betrayed. You had every reason to believe Tim would be the same friend he had been when you were kids. Not foolish at all.” She patted the girl’s arm once again.
“Before your Uncle Tony and I got back together, it was the same way with us.” She sighed. Tony’s death still hurt even after thirteen years; perhaps made even sadder because they did reconcile before his passing.
“You forgave him.” Not a question. Lina smiled at her.
“I had to let it go. For my sake as well as his. And we never stopped loving each other.” Her eyes teared up and it was Susan’s turn to console as she reached over and rubbed Lina’s arm.
“I…” The girl looked down and shook her head, remembering the dream that seemed to have played out only moments before.
“What, honey?”
“I had a dream.” The girl seemed almost ashamed to admit something as casual and human as dreaming. But it went far beyond merely a vision in her sleep. What she saw brought tears of doubt and fear and needless shame to her face as she recalled what she had seen.
“Oh, honey,” Lina said in response; believing Susan’s dream to be a frightening nightmare. Dreams can often be daunting when they confront us; not with monsters or demons, but with what we may truly believe or feel. Lina got off the chair and knelt next to the bed; face-to-face and heart-to-heart, so to speak. She leaned closer to give the girl the attention due to her.
“I’m….I was sitting all alone…. Not even you.” She closed her eyes to block out any earthly vision in order to recall the unearthly. She sighed and began to cry. Morning may have come too soon, but she was still living all too frequently in the dark night of her soul, as some might say. And the needless shame that accompanied her thoughts.
“It was me but it wasn’t me…. I… it was like I was…” Even the thought of identifying with a character in a book…. A picture on a poster or movie screen….it made her feel small because grown women don’t do that, do they?”
“Susan…Pevensie, right?” The girl nodded.
“I’ve always felt close to Jill Pole.” Lina smiled and wiped a tear from the girl’s cheek.
“But it was me, too. And I …it was like a dream within a dream.”
“What did you see that upset you so much?” Lina tilted her head as if to listen more carefully.
“I… I had closed my eyes, Lina.” She stopped nearly in mid-sentence. It felt almost like she was sharing her heart with a girlfriend rather than an aunt, but the familiarity embarrassed her until Lina smiled and nodded as if to say it was okay.
“I thought it was Tim….” She sighed and Lina half-smiled, reflecting the disappointment the girl still felt.
“But it was someone else?”
“Y…yes….”
“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.” We often lose our shame in small increments; and nearly often as not from the permission we gain from a smile or a nod. Lina touched Susan’s face, brushing a stray hair from her eyes.
“A kiss….Oh Lina, I’m…. It shouldn’t be this way! It’s not right!”
“You kissed back?” A slow, cautious nod.
“And it wasn’t Tim? Who was he?” Another smile set the girl at ease enough to cry harder, if that makes sense.
“What, honey? Who was he?”
“Not he…. She.” It was all she could manage before she turned her head away and began sobbing into her pillow. Lina leaned closer and stroke Susan’s hair and just said, over and over,
“Oh, honey...It’s okay. You’re alright.”
Weightless in love...unraveling
For all that's to come
and all that's ever been
We're back to the board
with every shade under the sun
Let's make it a good one
Across town; later that same morning…
The girl stood before the bathroom mirror. With everything she had been given, she felt grateful even if for a meager blessing as her sister would say. She stared at her breasts. What might have brought other girls to sad tears still gave her a chill; that incongruous feeling you might get when you realize things are good? Better? She finished toweling herself off and wrapped her hair before grabbing the soft lilac-colored robe from the hook on the closet door. Something sent her into an introspective muse as she sat on her bed. She held out her right hand and spread her fingers. Her nails were short but polished. A satisfied sigh escaped her lips.
“I’m getting in the shower,” her sister said as she glided past and into the bathroom. At one time she would have felt embarrassed enough to cry. Even now in some ways, her own sense of modesty reminded her to give her sister privacy. But things had changed. What was foreign and unfamiliar had become a thing of joyful commonality after a very brief if shaky period of adjustment for them both. At nearly twenty-four, she still remained at home. Prospects for marriage had diminished almost to the point of hopelessness but for the encouragement of understanding friends and two parents who came to grips with the life their daughter lived.
“I’ll be out in a few. We can stop at the store for coffee if you like?” College life for two sisters almost seems like a scenario for a program on Netflix or some reality show. Outcasts in Jersey? Ignored at the Shore. But the two enjoyed each other’s company. Only eighteen months separated them and they both took classes at Rutgers while finishing belatedly at UCC. Stopping for coffee meant either a quick stop at the Seven-Eleven or a leisurely visit to the school commons.
“Okay. I don’t have a class until nine anyway.” The girl stood up and walked to her closet. In a few minutes she was dressed for the day. A pair of black slacks with matching low-heeled shoes. A light grey coat-length cable-knit sweater opened just enough to reveal a black jersey turtleneck top. She smiled at the girl staring back at her from the closet door mirror.
One more detail; something that she treasured more than some of her friends and family, but an all-important detail that showed who she was and in whom she placed her trust. She reached over and pulled the fabric over her head, finally draping it around her neck. Her favorite colors; turquoise, lilac, and pewter. And she finished dressing for the day by putting on the most important accessory she owned to display who she was. Her smile….
It couldn't be any more beautiful - I can't take it in.
To be continued…
Can’t Take It In
Words and music by
Imogen Heap and
Harry Gregson-Williams
As performed by
Imogen Heap
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzj2PdFYeRY
Comments
"It couldn't be any more beautiful"
sniffle.
here comes the waterworks ...
Thanks again for a wonderful story
And having not read the last Narnia books, I didn't know what had happened to Susan Pevensie. Nice to learn something new.
Love ya,
Torey
That was a nice interlude to break the tension...
A a wonderful 90 degree turn to get our attention. I wonder what Jerry & Pat will make of this development! Will they try to use it against Susan: Almost certainly. Neither of these guys seems to understand the difference between sex, gender and attraction or that the latter two reside between the ears.
I suspect that Pat will throw a hissy fit! Maybe this time Jerry will defend his daughter... or not. Ought to be interesting.
Can't wait for the next chapter,
Ole
We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!
Gender rights are the new civil rights!