Malachi and I - J. J. McAvoy(ang.)

Malachi and I J.J. McAvoy

Copyright This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Malachi and I Copyright © 2017 by J.J. McAvoy Ebook ISBN: 9781943772940 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. NYLA Publishing 350 7th Avenue, Suite 2003, NY 10001, New York. http://www.nyliterary.com

1. POISON APPLES MALACHI Apples. I hate apples. I hate them for no other reason than the symbolism they invoked. Throughout literature, apples have taken on the symbol of sin, the forbidden fruit, the start of chaos, the undoing of man. The most famous stories are that of Adam and Eve, a single apple cost them paradise and peace. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs—an apple laced with poison that caused Snow White to fall into a coma until a random man awakened her with a kiss. A happy ending, unless you knew that Snow White was Margarete von Waldeck, a sixteenthcentury German countess who was banished to Brussels by her step-mother. The poison came from the King of Spain, the father of her prince, and yes, with a damn apple. But she didn’t fall sleep, she

died. Then in Greek Mythology, at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis, Eris, the Greek goddess of strife and discord, who understandably was not invited to the wedding but lacked the rational capacity to figure out why, decided to throw a golden apple onto the table at the feast to the most fairest one of all. One apple, dozens of vain goddesses, and just like that a wedding was destroyed and a war began. If I could take every bloody apple and shoot them to the moon, I would. Maybe if I’d thought about it earlier then I wouldn’t have been in my current situation—I wouldn’t have been covered in smoke, sweat, and blood. I wouldn’t have tried to save the old woman from her burning car. Burning because of a chain reaction of events that began with the younger woman who was crossing the crosswalk in front of my car, and the impatient fool who ran out of the store. As he barreled into her and knocked her over, her bag fell and sent a slew of apples rolling into the street. Apples her daughter then broke free of her grasp to chase after which caused the oncoming pick-up truck to swerve left

and straight into the old woman’s car as she was pulling out of her parking space at Spencer’s Grocery Store. The sight and sound of the accident startled the teen driver who was pulling up behind me, causing him to step on the accelerator instead of the brakes. As his car slammed into mine, my head snapped forward and smashed into the steering wheel as my seatbelt dug its way into my shoulder. “Dude are you okay?!” The teen moron screamed as he rushed from his car to mine. “Help!” “Oh my god!” “It’s on fire!” Even though my vision was blurred I saw the car—a silver BMW—and the bloodied woman who lay unconscious inside of it, and without thinking I pulled off my seatbelt and ran towards the car. I felt nothing as I yanked on the door repeatedly while the smoke rose into my face. Even when she was in my arms and I was dragging her from the car I felt nothing. Nothing, until I looked around screaming for help, only to see, the now bruised, chipped and

deformed but no longer rolling…bunch of fucking apples.

2. RIVER OF VELVET ESTHER “And because he loved her…foolishly…selfishly… unreasonably, with no regard for anyone or anything else. He reached out, clenching the hilt of his own sword and drove it through her heart...until the blade pierced through her back and into his own chest, even then it was not enough. He tightened his grip and with the last of his strength, he forced the steel through both of their hearts. And with no final words, not even a final glance, they died. By Diyala River…the end.” I finished and no one said a word, allowing me to sit down and quietly wipe the tears from my eyes. Inhaling deeply, I stared at the manuscript in my hands. “Well?” my grandfather asked as he sat up in his chair at the head of the table. He brought his brown, wrinkled hands together and rested his gray-

haired chin on them. It was something he always did when he was excited. His brown eyes looked us over as he pushed further. “Any thoughts?” “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, petting the paper as it were a child. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Howard grumbled as he took the red pen from behind his ear and tossed it onto the manuscript. “It’s the same as the last book, hell, all of his books are exactly the same.” “They are not.” I snapped back. “They kinda are,” Li-Mei added flipping her bleach-blonde hair over her shoulder. When I glared at her she placed her hand over her heart. “Don’t get me wrong! I love, I mean love his books, but they’re all kind of the same at this point. When I pick up a Malachi Lord novel I’m doing it because I want my feelings to be wretched and to have a good ugly cry. I’m not expecting something else.” “See—” “Let me clarify.” My grandfather cut Howard off before he dared to speak another blasphemous

word. “Will this new novel outsell his last novel?” “No,” Howard said confidently. “Because he has devoted readers like you two, he’ll sell the same amount of copies.” “He picks up new readers each time he publishes a book!” I reminded him. Howard rolled his hazel eyes at me. “And loses readers with each new book…” “He—” “Correction.” He cut me off. “He doesn’t lose readers, it’s more that they’re slow to buy or even read his books now for the same reason Li-Mei said; they need to be in the mood for another heartbreak novel. They know how it will end so they put off reading. If we published…” He glanced down at the title page but there wasn’t one. It just said By Malachi Lord. “River of Velvet.” I titled it. “Oooh…nice! I like it,” Li-Mei whispered to herself with a smile. “River of Velvet. Catchy. Good for next year’s Valentine's Day release.” Grandpa nodded to himself.

“I guess we’re going forward…” Howard said and I could feel him getting ready to piss all over my cheerios. “Valentine's Day, where he’ll sell just about the same amount of copies, give or take a couple thousand, end up on all the usual lists, maybe another B-movie deal, then never read or spoken about again, with the exception of Esther.” “And the blog which has how many fans?” I questioned him. “Yes, fine. You and the other 1.5 million fans —” “Two million fans.” I cut in looking to my grandpa. “Every day I get dozens of messages from fans all over the world. If your question is ‘will he sell?’ The answer is yes because he always sells. Even if he wrote a dinner menu I’d buy it and read. We all know and have met authors and aspiring authors that would kill for his success.” “Howard.” Li-Mei coughed, unsubtly poking fun at Howard’s novel…the one he’s been writing apparently since the Stone Age. Howard glared and I smiled as she reached for Penohxi Publishing House mug. “Sorry, you were saying?”

I loved her. “Then it’s settled.” Grandpa nodded as he leaned back and adjusted his ascot. Yes, his I’msophisticated ascot, before giving us our marching orders. “Howard, have sales print two thousand less than normal.” “Two thousand?” I frowned. Howard grabbed his pen and nodded to himself. “That way if he doesn’t surpass the normal amount we aren’t stuck giving out less. And if he does for some strange reason we could use that as a marketing ploy…yeah okay. Any luck with getting him to do the signed copies?” “Keep dreaming.” Grandpa laughed before looking to his left. “Li-Mei, production is key for this. Everything from the front cover to the actual page headers should have that middleeastern/Arabian nights feel to it. Esther, promotion, promotion, promotion. I want the hype for this book to be like the second coming.” Nodding, I tried not to cringe at the fact that my grandfather just used the word “hype”. “How soon should I start marketing? I actually

think we should start a week before Valentine's Day.” “Hmm…why?” He stroked his beard as he watched me. “Half of the Valentine’s Day readers want something sweet to have that lovey-dovey feel. So they might buy it and read it later. A week after Valentine’s Day people are annoyed with anything pink or red and they rather ready a mystery or a thriller. But in the week before we get those who are excited for romance. They want that gutwrenching love story, plus we’ll also get the Singles Appreciation Day crowd—” “The what?” “The single people unable to find another person to buy them chocolate and tell them how beautiful they are so they stay home drinking wine, listening to their old-school Chinese mother yell about how all other mothers are sending out wedding invites for their daughters but all you talk about is work….” Li-Mei rambled off and I kicked her foot. “Anyway, it’s just a better week, I think. What

about your sales?” I looked to Howard. “Six months is pushing it but we can get it done,” he replied, his hazel eyes focused solely on me, a small smile on his lip. “But on the marketing and foreign distribution side, it will be tight. I know how meticulous you are with this author.” “I got it.” I nodded. “I’ll start today if that’s okay with you.” Grandpa pursed his lips to the side. “Fine but don’t step on Shannon’s toes, marketing is her department, not yours. Make sure to clear everything with her even though she’s away.” I wanted to remind him that since I was his granddaughter—aka the heir to the Penohxi Publishing House—I technically worked in all departments like he did. But I simply gave him a two-finger salute. “Yes, sir. I know.” “Good. Bring them in.” He tapped the glass right in front of him. Rising, we all put our manuscripts on the table and only then were we allowed to pick up our cellphones and tablets from the center of the table. The reason there were only four us, five if you

counted Shannon Kelly who was currently on maternity leave, was because of what happened last year with Malachi Lord’s novel being leaked online. My grandfather, Alfred Benjamin Noëlle, was a calm and simple man. He liked fishing, listening to old records, reading by the lake, and in the twenty-two years I’d been alive, I’d never heard him curse once. But that day, if we were being recorded live in a studio the number of expletive bleeps that would have been needed would have put any rapper to shame. And because of that incident, he’d structured this new protocol whereby each major author got a certain group comprised of someone from each department who would read the paper copied manuscript in the conference room only once and never again unless they worked with editing or translation like I did. “Li-Mei Zhou!” She nearly jumped out of her skin and tripped over her chair when my grandfather called her name. Her brown eyes grew wider because no one ever called her full name outside of her parents and grandmother, let alone yell it like he did.

“Sir…” He snickered to himself grinning like an old cat. “Do you enjoy working here?” “Yeah… I mean. Yes, sir. I do.” She stood straighter and spoke much more seriously. “Then don’t worry about your mother. Just keep reminding her you’re happy. I’m sure there’s some lucky person out there for you.” “Thank you, sir.” She must have fallen into default mode hearing her name called like that because she even gave him a respectful bow before moving to the door. Howard held the door for me, waiting, but I shook my head and he glanced between my grandfather and me and took the hint to leave. “Aww grandpa you’re so sweet.” I teased as I skipped over to him. “Either you want something or you did something.” He crossed his arms waiting. “Out with it.” “Why aren’t you sweet to me? You do realize it’s going to be me taking care of you when you’re old right?”

“I’m already old.” He frowned at me as I leaned on the back of the seat. “Psshh…you don’t look a day over seventyfive.” I waved him off. “I shouldn’t! I’m seventy-three!” Seeing him snap at me so quickly made laugh which made him frown again before laughing too. “See don’t you just love me?” I leaned in with a grin. “What do you need, Esther?” I didn’t need anything but I wasn’t sure how to say it. “Whatever it is you can tell me…unless you’re thinking about moving in with that boy.” I froze, staring at him as he stuffed the manuscripts into his bag. “You know?” “The whole house knows, with the boy making goo-goo eyes at you all the time it’s so obvious I’m insulted you thought I was stupid enough to not notice.” “Accept my apologies then,” I said with a sigh. Howard and I were dating. That was supposed

to be my big reveal and he just went and gutted it. We’d been dating for about a year since I’d started working here actually. “Accept my rejection then.” “What?” “If you want to date him that’s your business but no granddaughter of mine is shacking up with anyone!” he replied standing to his feet. “Grandpa!” “Esther!” He mocked and I should have learned not to do that by now. I sighed. “Grandpa, I’m twenty-two. I’m not asking for permission, I’m asking for—” “Help.” He cut in as he stood in front of me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Howard is twenty-eight, he’s pretty much settling down, ready to enclose you in his white picket fence, which would be okay if that was what you wanted. But if you wanted that, Esther, you would have told me about him, and if he was the right one he would have told me himself—” “I told him not to.” “It doesn’t matter, peanut. He still should have

been man enough to do so. Lastly, if you really wanted this you would have started off with ‘Grandpa, I love him.’ Not ‘Grampa, I’m twentytwo.’” I opened my mouth to say the words but nothing came out. Why were three little words so hard to say? I wasn’t even looking at Howard and I still couldn’t say it. “I’ll be the bad guy alright?” He patted my shoulder. “You told me and I said no. Besides, who else is going to take care of me when I’m old if you moved out?” I snickered. “You’re already old.” He gasped letting go of my shoulders. “How dare you? I’ll have you know I don’t look a day over seventy-five.” I laughed and he flicked my nose. He didn’t say anything else about the matter, he simply walked towards the door and held it open for me. “Now get back out there and earn my money.” “Oh back to boss-mode. Sure, sure. I’m going,” I said as I grabbed my things and walked towards the door. “I’ll even walk you to your office, old

man.” “I remember when your legs would wobble like a giraffe and you’d fall onto your bottom and sit there confused and crying.” He shook his knees outside the office for everyone to see. “Grandpa!” I grabbed his arm. “Esther!” He mocked again. Tightening my grip on him I walked faster, pulling him along which caused him to snicker like he always did. Expect this time his snickering was interrupted by a cough. He coughed so badly we had to stop for a second and I broke apart a little just staring at him. “Don’t give me that look…ahuh!” He coughed once more as he rubbed his throat. “What look?” “That.” He pointed his long slim finger directly between my eyes. “Your big, brown, sad puppy dog eyes like I’m going somewhere. Come on, you’re walking me, ain’t you?” “We’re here,” I said and, like the hostess of Wheel of Fortune, I lifted my hands and directed his attention to the glass door with his name etched

onto it. “I’ll get back to earning my paycheck now. Namaste, Rafi.” I nodded my head and clasped my hands together as my grandfather’s personal assistant, Rafi Patel, rushed to the door wearing his classic suspenders and bow tie, which upon first hearing it you’d think was kind of dorky, but the moment you saw his muscular build, hazel eyes, and his half-million Instagram followers, you’d want a pair of green and white striped suspenders too. “Namaste, Esther. Sir, your coffee…” “Coffee?” I looked to my grandfather. “Your doctor told you to cut caffeine.” “It’s decaf.” Rafi tried to save him. “Plus it’s actually more milk than coffee so no doctors were bribed while I got this.” “Shoo! Go, leave me, my coffee, and my assistant, in peace.” I put my hand up and backed away causing Rafi to laugh as they walked into his massive, glass corner office. Inside, every award he’d won from the Oscars to the Tonys hung on the wall. Not to mention the signed first copies of all his authors,

and the photos; him marching for Civil Rights when he was young as well as his filming awards he had won all over the world. Every time I stepped inside that office my grandfather disappeared and the gravitas of who he was—Alfred Benjamin Noëlle, the famed writer, filmmaker, producer, director, activist, philanthropist, and icon—truly hit me. ‘Bye.’ Rafi mouthed and clasped his hands together, nodding his head to me once before clicking the remote that caused the glass walls to frost over making it impossible to see into his office. “You speak Hindi too?” Li-Mei rolled out from behind her desk in the center of the office. The hive we called it…because it was actually designed to look like a hive, thankful it wasn’t bright yellow, but made of glass. “Hindi, Mandarin, Turkish, Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese, Arabic, Hebrew, Russian…keep in mind we’re still in Asia!” Howard smiled as he came over hand and handed me a bottle of iced tea. “Wo de tian na!” (Oh my god!) Li-Mei exclaimed as her mouth dropped opened. “How did

I not know that? Honestly, I’m kinda hurt. Impressed, but hurt.” “Yīzhǒng yǔyán yǒngyuǎn bùgòu.” (One language is never enough.) I shrugged smiling as Howard looked at us, waiting for a translation but I simply drank my tea. “Guys…what did you say?” “Aren’t you part Chinese? How do you not know even the simplest Mandarin?” Li-Mei grinned and slid back behind her desk and popped a green cake pop from her Gwen Stefani Harajuku jar into her mouth. “First of all, I’m half Japanese, half German. Secondly, I know neither languages because my parents were born and raised here in New York. Luckily, maybe my girlfriend will teach me,” he said proudly while I choked mid-swallow causing me to cough so hard I had to grip the edge of LiMei’s desk. “You—” “I’m fine,” I said quickly glaring at him. “Excuse us, Li-Mei.” “Don’t mind me ,I’ll just be here pretending to

not be interested,” she replied chewing the cake in her mouth. Ignoring her, I walked towards the conference room we’d just left and over towards the window that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge. “You can’t go around saying that.” I hollered at him the moment he closed the door. “Saying what? That you’re my girlfriend? Everyone knows, Esther—” “That’s not the point. This is work.” “Come on. How long are you going to play the ‘we’re at work’ card?” “For as long as we’re at work!” I clasped my mouth shut trying not yell. “Everyone knows that I’m here because of my grandfather—” “It’s been a year. Everyone can see you aren’t some entitled brat. The fact that there is now a foreign distribution floor and not a foreign rights desk is mostly because of you.” “Exactly! There is more on my plate now. More I want to do—” “And being my girlfriend impedes that how?” I stopped unsure of how to reply. And so, like

an idiot, I stared at Howard—the Yale grad, the golden boy from a good family, the Mr. Nice Guy who had been sweet, kind, and patient, who was allergic to cats but still left food out for his neighbor’s when it came over, the guy who was staring at me waiting for an answer that I owed him but was too much of a chicken to say. “Esther, are we breaking up? Is that what’s happening?” I put my hands behind my back and hung my head. “I don’t know…sorry no… I mean…I’m… yeah. I don’t want to move in. I don’t want to settle down. There are so many things I need to do and I need to do them in my own space.” “I’m sorry too.” He sighed, walked over to me and wrapped me in his arms while I stood there. “I shouldn’t have rushed you. We’ll keep taking things slow, okay?” When he pulled back I was too dumbfounded to speak so I just nodded. “Good. I’ll see you later.” He kissed my lips quickly then turned around and walked out. I walked out towards the hive as he walked

towards the elevator to go down to his floor and placed my bag on the desk. “Did you break up?” she asked sitting up and handing me a cake pop. “I don’t know.” I frowned as I took it and sat down slowly. She came around and leaned on my desk. “What do you mean you don’t know? One usually know these things.” “Apparently not. Should I be happy or sad?” I asked taking a bite, and the moment I did I wanted the whole velvet cake. “This is good and I should be happy, right?” “Rule of thumb, if you have to ask whether or not you’re happy, you’re not.” She sat up and then sighed dramatically. “But what do I know? I’m just a twenty-eight-year-old single woman in New York.” “Successful.” I added with a smile. “You are a successful, beautiful, single woman in New York.” “Right?” She grinned. “Look at this skin? Not a blemish anywhere. And not a single student debt is left for me to pay off…I even like my apartment.”

“We are not worthy.” I bowed to her and she laughed. “I like you, Noëlle.” Grinning I put my hand over my chest. “Aww, thank you but my love life is already complicated —” “Shut up.” She giggled, shaking her head as she looked on her laptop screen and I did the same though I couldn’t really focus. For some reason I felt like I was missing something. Like there was this big blind spot in myself and the more I tried to figure it out the blinder I became. When I looked around, everyone at Penohxi Publishing House seemed to have their head on straight. Everyone was talented, the best of the best. English and Humanities majors from Ivy League schools, with larger-than-life dreams. Then there was just me, Esther Noëlle. My only two skills were reading comparison and languages. I know that alone was great. I knew most people barely spoke two. However, I always felt like…like I wasn’t whole. Like I wasn’t really living but merely going through the motions. Whenever I

wanted to go I found myself staying put like I was waiting…waiting for what though? Li-Mei was twenty-eight and after graduating from Princeton she backpacked all across Europe taking the most breathtaking photos, of which she later published in multiple magazines before joining us only two weeks ago. She was single but not because she was too busy traveling or too beautiful, but because she was searching for the one. She had almost everything she wanted and her life was all laid out for her. Rafi Patel, my grandfather’s personal assistant, was a recent film graduate who’d won the honor to shadow and be mentored by my grandfather for a year. Penohxi was created only twenty-three years ago and my grandfather’s dream to bring more diverse stories and backgrounds to the forefront of entertainment had exploded faster than even he’d expected. We were now ranked alongside Google and Facebook as one of the happiest places to work. Working here was every English Major’s dream job, and to get here you needed to be the best.

But I didn’t go to any Ivy League, instead, I went to NYU. I got average grades: As and Bs. I’d never traveled anywhere outside of New York, California, and New Jersey. And those were all for work with my grandfather when I was younger. Everywhere I looked people all around me had a goal they were running towards and I was just following my grandfather. You’ve got FanMail! The crown icon on my computer screen blinked. “I wish,” I muttered to myself as I opened it and read AngstLover4Lord’s message. Dear Mr. Lord, First off your name is so cool! Has anyone every told you that? “Yeah like almost every other day,” I replied softly still reading. I know you like to keep a low profile and I’m not even sure if this message will get to you but I just needed to tell you…your book changed my life. Seriously, I’ve always been so depressed and

being shy makes it hard for me to speak up most times. But after reading Smile at Her and Duchess of Hope I realized how fleeting life can be and why we need to speak or die with our words. Today, some girls at school were trying to get me to do their homework for them again. When I told them no, you should have seen their faces. It’s a small step but I’m sure by the time I go to college next year I’ll have it down pat like the Duchess of Marina. Thank you and never stop writing. I’ll always keep reading. Your #1 fan from Austria, Franziska. “Wow.” I had to fight back tears. I was a crybaby, yeah, I know, but it was so sweet, and I completely understood her. I wanted to reply to her personally and let her know that I’d gotten her message and would send it off but I’d be here all day if I tried to reply to his letters. Instead, the email sent out the automated message which read: Thank you for taking the time to write to Malachi Lord and for being such an amazing fan

of his work. He truly enjoys getting these messages! We will forward it and I’ll let you know when he’s gotten it. Until then, join us at Lord Nation where fellow fans can share their love, support and overall thoughts of each novel. Esther Noëlle, Translation Editor. Penohxi Publishing House. Lord Nation Creator/Blogger. “Hold the elevators!” I jumped at the sound of Rafi’s voice, and I rose to my feet as he ran towards the door after my grandfather. “Grandpa?” I called out but he wasn’t listening. I wasn’t even sure he’d seen me. With his ear to the phone, he put his jacket on and got into the elevator. Rafi tried to get on after him but he shook his head. “Rafi, what is it?” I asked as he rushed back to the hive and reached for the projector’s remote to turn on the television so that it would reflect on the glass of my grandfather’s office. On screen we watched as a tall man with what looked like a tire iron broke the glass window of

silver BWM, which was one of at least a dozen cars involved in the accident but it didn’t look like New York. Smoke was coming out of the car and he pulled and pulled until the door budged open, then he lifted an elderly woman out of the car like bloody Superman. The camera zoomed in on his ashy, bloody, scratched up face as he yelled for help. “What’s wrong with the volume?” Rafi banged the remote on his hand until he turned to us frustrated. “Forget about that. Guys, that’s Malachi Lord!” “Shut up!” I yelled as we all moved in closer to see. “He’s bloody hot man!” Diane gasped and then giggled. “I thought he was some old geezer who your grandfather knew, Esther.” “Yeah,” I whispered staring at the replay over and over again, unable to take my eyes off him. He wasn’t hot…he was…beautiful. And to say that as he was bruised, cut up, and sweaty made me wonder what he looked like every day. It made me wonder if his eyes really were that blue.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” “Ah!” Everyone covered our ears as the volume blasted on. “Sorry!” Rafi said quickly turning it down enough for us to hear the anchor speak. “As you can see, Malachi Lord, the awardwinning and best-selling poet and novelist, who has all but avoided the public eye, refusing interviews, photos, even signings, leaped to the aid of an elderly woman who was trapped in her car. We have reports that despite the fact that he appeared fine during this ordeal, he fell unconscious due to the injuries he’d sustained only seconds after the video feed was cut. He was transferred to a local hospital where he is reportedly in a stable condition.” “How do they know it’s him?” Leon asked as he chewed on the back of his pen. “I mean, come on? Romance novelist by day, superhero stud…also by day?” Before all of us could speak our phones started to ring or beep. It was a good question…a question everyone

wanted to know. And the only two people who knew for sure if the man on screen was Malachi Lord, was Malachi Lord himself, and my grandfather, his agent, and publisher. “I have Reader’s Digest on the line asking if it’s really him!” “We say Penohxi Publishing House does not disclose any private information about our authors unless authorized to do so by said authors,” I said as they moved to their desks. “Say it over and over again like canaries until you’re either sick of answering the phones and tweeting or you clock out for the day.” They all stared at me and I didn’t realize why until Rafi handed me a tissue. “You okay?” I blinked a few times and sure enough water was coming out of my eyes and I had no idea why. This always seemed to happen! “Yeah.” I wiped my face quickly and tried to deflect. “So does anyone have a better idea?” “We’re canaries.” Rafi nodded as he answered his phone and, in a heavy Indian accent, repeated what I’d said. Everyone did so with the exception

of Li-Mei, who instead of answering calls was making them. She’d dial, lift it to her ear, hang up and dial again. Panicked, she started to shake as she ran her hands through her blonde hair. Her beloved velvet cake pops lay on the ground crumbled and broken. “Li-Mei? What is it?” She pointed to the old woman being pulled out of the car. “The woman he’s carrying. That’s my mom!”

3. PAIN AND NOVOCAINE MALACHI “I’m thinking of raising my agent fees.” His voice sounded the way the movies portrayed God’s voice; calm yet strong, steady but with a hint of mystery. Luckily Alfred was not God or I'd— “A five percent raise sound good to you?” Tilting my head towards his voice I opened my eyes and found him sitting in a chair beside me with his feet kicked up onto a small space of the bed, and, as he finished peeling his tangerine, he stuck a piece between his lips. He wasn't watching me but the television across from the hospital bed. “How much do you currently make?” He paused and looked to me. Annoyed he shook his head and asked, “What do you do with the contracts I give you?” “Sign the last page and give them back to you.” He sucked his teeth, he frowned. “Why do I

even bother?” He muttered and continued eating. “Guilt.” I reminded him. Alfred Noëlle, great director, and the man who carried the death of my mother on his shoulders, had devoted more than twenty years of his life to watching over the son that had been left behind. “Guilt.” He repeated as he nodded to himself. Rising from his chair he gathered his stuff and walked to the door. “How long was I out this time?” “Twelve hours.” “Not bad.” I hadn't meant for him to hear but he did and being the man he was... he had to comment. “Do you even remember what happened?” he asked me, and in all honesty I'd been so used to coming to the hospital that I hadn’t thought about… Shit. “The accident.” “Yes.” He pointed to the screen and I focused on it for the first time ever, watching myself as I pulled the woman from the car, and reading my name on the banner under the video: Malachi

Lord: Hero. “Shit!” I sat up quickly, apparently too quickly and my shoulder ached in protest. “Alfred, tell them to take it down—” “Do I look like the Wizard of Oz? How? You chose the slowest news day in America’s history to publicly expose yourself. Your days of hiding are over, Malachi.” “No…No!” I hollered, panic setting in as I watched myself on screen. The more I watched, the more pain I was in until I found myself hunched over and slamming my palm over my right eye. Grinding my teeth, I tore off all the wires attached to my body before it brought in the white coats. “Malachi!” He reached over to me but I smacked his hands away. “I need to go home!” I snapped at him. “Malachi you need the doctor—” “THEY CAN’T HELP ME!” “You can’t leave like this, you need to calm down.” I didn’t say anything as I rolled onto my side and focused on the chair he’d been sitting in. And

slowly, far too slowly, like the calm waters after a tsunami, the pain retreated…leaving that familiar feeling of Novocaine in my mouth. As I lay there like the pitiful waste of flesh I was, I wondered for maybe the billionth time, what I had done to be cursed like this. “Malachi?” “She’s going to find me, Alfred,” I whispered despairingly. I’d made a mistake. Twenty-nine… thirty years next weekend, that’s how long I’d been able to avoid her, and now with my face plastered everywhere… and all because I’d saved the old woman who for some absurd reason I’d felt bad for.” “At least the pain will end, Malachi.” “No.” I blinked slowly still staring at the chair. “That’s when the real pain starts.” “Maybe…maybe she’ll run from you too.” “She won’t be able to.” It didn’t work that way. I remembered the moment I got the scar over my eye time and time again. For her it was different. She couldn’t remember anything. She’d experience a series of déjà-vus that she’d try to piece together

until she found me. Once she did…we’d die and do it all again. “I’ll get you discharged.” Listening to his voice I really wished he was God, maybe then I could demand we settle this like men… Smirking at the idea I closed my eyes and whispered, “Make it ten percent, Alfred.” I didn’t hear what he said in return. I waited for a few seconds before I pushed myself up from the bed and stretched out my neck. Hanging on the back of the bathroom door was a suit bag courtesy of Alfred. “I have to ask you.” No one was in the room, but I spoke anyway knowing that the same God that could keep returning the memories of my past lives had to be watching, or at the very least listening. “Why bother letting me die?” Ignoring the physical pain, I reached for the bag and entered the bathroom. “I mean, if I’m going to remember anyway, why not just make me immortal?” Turning on the faucet, I splashed water onto my face and took a deep breath before glancing up into

the mirror. Seeing those blue eyes stare back at me, my eyes, yet they didn’t feel like it… The white skin, the black hair…none of it felt like me with the exception of the scar; the faint line which ran from my cheekbone through my eyelid and stopped right above my eyebrow…not just this face but every face. My face didn’t feel like my face because when I looked in the mirror it sometimes changed to reflect my past lives and it was as if they were all standing right beside me and I could see them clearly, one by one. There was the shoulder-length brown hair, green eyes, light brown skin, a turban wrapped around my head. Beside that face was my porcelain white skin, brown eyes, my black hair pulled into a topknot with a Sangtugwan to hold it in place. Beside that face, there was me with dark brown skin, brown eyes, my head shaved, and war beads around my neck. Followed by the version of me that had white skin, a thick beard, and blonde hair that was braided at the top of my head and shaved at the sides and stained with the tribal ink. The longer I stared, the more faces I saw—my faces. In

different eras, it was never-ending. Raising my fist— “Malachi?” I froze, my fist hovering in front of the glass. Dropping it I stripped down and changed into the jeans and the black long-sleeve shirt he’d gotten me. “I need to go for a ride to clear my head,” I said as I opened the bathroom. There were two doctors dressed in their white coats who were standing beside him. “They wanted to check on you before you get discharged,” Alfred said as he tossed the keys to my motorcycle at me. “And before you ask no one else rode it, I had it delivered here on the backs of angels.” “Perfect and I’m fine,” I said catching the keys before I bent down to put on my boots which were by the door. “Mr. Lord, when you came in we ran an MRI scan on you—” “Do I have a tumor?” I asked as I tied my laces. “No, we—”

“Was my brain bleeding?” “No—” Rising I stood looking at the two men who stood in front of me. “So why am I not being discharged?” “Mr. Lord, if you’d let us explain—” “My brain lights up like a Christmas tree.” They looked back at each other than at me. “You know this?” The older of the two of them asked. “Doctor, I’m sure Mr. Noëlle has given you my full medical history and in so doing you’ll note that I was in and out of hospitals quite frequently as a child. Nothing is wrong with me.” Nothing medicine could help anyway. “Have you ever thought about trying to figure out why this happens?” “Nope. And I prefer to not be a lab rat while you and every other doctor try to figure it out,” I replied and nodded at Alfred as I moved to the door. I needed to get back home. The longer I stayed out like this the greater the chance of running into

her became. She could have been anyone. A patient, a doctor…anyone. I’d gone to the grocery store because I wanted steak. Of course it was the primal need for food which had put me in this situation. “Just because you’ve lived a thousand lives does not mean you get to be rude,” Alfred muttered. “Allow me to be rude, if not this curse comes with no perks whatsoever,” I replied as I followed him towards the reception desk. I kept my distance and head down trying to be as invisible as I could be. “Oh my gosh! Mr. Lord!” I jumped at the feeling of a small hand on my arm and I instinctively backed away from the woman while doing my best not to look her in the eye. Instead I stared at the duck covered scrubs she wore and focused on the pattern. “My sisters and I love your books! Will you sign mine?” she asked as she stuck a white covered book out at me. “No,” I replied stepping away from her and

moving toward the exit. “Mr. Lord is not feeling well at the moment. He was just in a car accident as you may well know so please understand.” I heard Alfred kindly try to cover up for me. But I didn’t care if people called me a horrible person, or if I was being rude, or an asshole. What if I signed her or anyone else’s book and by some twist of fate it managed to be her? Their opinion of me meant little when pit against my life…her life. Just as I’d made it to the front door and I thought I was free, I found a worn out copy of Sophocles’ Antigone at my feet. I stared at the cover and without thinking I bent down to pick it up. The moment my hand touched it so did hers. My heart stuttered and the scar burned so badly that my eyes hurt. “Malachi Lord?” She gasped. I could hear my heartbeat echoing. Releasing the book I tried to escape but she blocked my path. “Wait! Sorry, I know you must have had people in your face all day but I just wanted to say—” “Li-Mei?”

Turning at the sound of his voice, I watched as he stood beside me and spoke to…her. “Mr. Noëlle. Good morning. I’m sorry I forgot you came here too!” she said. “Mr. Lord I just wanted to thank you. You saved my mother today.” I shouldn’t have but I looked at her in shock. Really looked at her—her blonde hair was pulled into a bun and her brown eyes were filled with tears. It was her? Her mother? “Your mother?” Alfred asked because I could no longer find the words to speak. “The woman in the BMW, yeah. I just…thank you. Really. Thank you.” She sniffled quickly and I tried to walk around her but she stepped into my path again. “Have we met before? I swear it’s like a feeling of déjà vu.” It was her. The moment I thought it, the pain came back. Biting back the pain I glared at her. “No, we have not.” Taking the key out of my pocket I moved around her and towards the dark red motorcycle that sat in the parking lot. I was trying to figure out

how to run. How to undo this before it started again? Before Li-Mei realized she hadn’t just met me in this life but in almost a thousand previous lives. “I refuse to do this again.” I’d had enough pain. Enough.

4. DREAMERS AND INSOMNIACS + MARY-MARGARET BONDURANT AND FRANCIS ESTHER “Do you have any idea what time it is, old man?” I questioned as I flicked on the light as he came into the flat. “Jesus Christ—ESTHER!” He hollered gripping his chest. “You almost gave me a dang heart attack!” I couldn’t help but smile. I was not letting him off the hook but I’d always wanted to do that. “Grampa, it’s two a.m.” “I know, which is why I’m going to crawl into bed…” He yawned the last part as he took off his coat and ascot. “Oh no you don’t.” I leaped off the seat and ran

in front of him before he could move to the stairs. “What happened with Malachi Lord?” He groaned. “Esther.” “Grandpa.” I crossed my arms and waited. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about me? Like helping me to bed or something?” “You said the moment I helped you to bed would be the last time you ever got out of bed. Which, now that I think about it, is a horrible thing to say to a ten-year-old.” “Noted.” He nodded as he tried to walk around me again. “Grandpa, seriously!” I frowned trying to give him my puppy dog eyes while pouting. But he pushed my head back with his index finger. “That look has no effect when you try so hard. Move it.” His voice much more serious now and so I moved but I didn’t give up. “Grandpa, you know why I love Malachi Lord’s books?” I asked him and he stopped midstep to hear me out. I’d never given an explanation before and he’d never asked. “I love them because the pain he puts his characters through allows me to

live optimistically. Mom abandoned me before I was even a week old and my father is dead. I continually feel like I’m failing to live up to some obscure greatness, and just as everything is bubbling to the top, just as I start to panic and want to hide away in my room forever, Malachi Lord releases a new book. I read it and reread it, sobbing over the pages, and you know I’m a crybaby, I cry at the most random things, but I never sob, never really weep, until I read his books. Afterward, I take a deep breath and smile, because I get to live on even though the characters died. What am I going to do in the future if Malachi Lord stops writing? Oh, the horror!” I added the last bit as I placed the back of my hand over my forehead and tilted my head upwards like the women in those old Hollywood movies did. When he didn’t say anything I had to look back at him. He was staring at me with those old brown eyes of his. “Put your hand down.” I did so immediately and when I did he flicked my forehead. “Ouch!” I flinched moving back. “Grandpa!’

“Esther.” He mocked me even rocking his head. “What are you going to do in the future if Malachi Lord stops writing? I ought to kick you in the rear. What kind of question is that? You will live like the seven billion other people on this planet and you will be the bringer of your own happiness and optimism. Not a book. Not a man. But you.” My mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait, why am I being lectured? Plus you’re the one who told me to be passionate about the arts.” “The arts. Plural. Not a single author or book. This is how I know you’re not ready to take over the publishing house. You’d probably turn it into the Malachi Lord foundation. Huh!” He huffed eyeing me up and down before heading up the stairs. I stood there dumbfounded for a second. Not a single question I’d wanted to ask was answered and worst of all... I got lectured, and the evil eye too, as if I’d done something wrong. My shock shifted to amazement and my amazement to amusement. Nodding to myself, I clapped my hands together and then turned to the stairs.

“One of these days, Grandpa I’m going to… to…to figure whatever it is that you do to make me forget all my questions!” I hollered up at him. “Good luck!” He yelled back and he laughed so hard he started to cough. But before I could ask if he was alright he shouted, “I’m fine. You gotta be quicker than that.” “You gotta be quicker than that.” I mocked under my breath making a face at his now closed door. “I heard that!” “No way,” I whispered backing up and tiptoeing back to my room. Why was I tiptoeing? God, I was so lame! I could legally drink, get married, and go to war in every country in the world and yet I still felt like a kid playing grown up. With a sigh, I headed back towards my room behind the stairs. I dragged my feet across the bright red Persian rug and crawled into my futon-styled bed opposite the massive windows that overlooked the city. “Ahhh,” I moaned happily wiggling under the sheets. The downstairs bedroom was meant to be the master bedroom. However, when I was four, I’d

always came down to sleep in my grandpa’s room…not on his bed but on my pillow by the window. Every time I was high up on a bed I ended up falling off. When I was ten, a certified big kid, my grandpa gave me his room. And now I could look out at the city lights which looked like stars once I got really sleepy. Like now… I could feel my eyelids getting heavier when all of sudden the sound of Beethoven’s Für Elise began to play softly. I listened, feeling as if the bed and I were spinning, drifting, floating, and just as it was getting good it stopped and it felt as if I were being abruptly pulled out of the sky by my ankles and back to the ground. Sitting up, I picked up my phone from the wood frame of the bed that was just thick enough to hold my laptop and phone. Looking at the screen I saw that I had not only missed Li-Mei’s call but also her text… “Are you up?” “No…because no one but doctors, 911 operators, and cops should be up at this hour. Goodnight,” I replied and no sooner had I leaned

back did Beethoven’s Bagatelle start to play again. Groaning I kicked my feet out as I answered. “You better be dying,” I said into the phone. “I think I’m in love,” she said, speaking in Mandarin, not English. “With whom?” I sat up, the idea of sleep was now erased from my mind. “Guess?” “I suck at this game just tell me.” I was excited now. “Fine. But only because I’m excited.” She paused. “Well?” “I wanted to let the suspense build.” Rolling my eyes I laid back down. “You do that but fair warning while the suspense is building I might fall asleep.” “Fine. Gosh. It’s Malachi Lord.” I froze, unsure of what to say. “Silence is not the reaction I was expecting, Esther.” “Sorry…” I started to drift off but caught myself. “Malachi Lord? As in the author Malachi

Lord?” “New York is a big place but I doubt there are many who share the same.” She had a point. “I just don’t understand, how can you be—?” Her laughter cut me off. “Esther you’re so naïve and sweet sometimes it’s funny. Of course I don’t love him. I just mean I have a crush on him. Like a huge heart churning crush. And I’ve been trying to cyberstalk him, you know, to get more information on him, but there isn’t much and your fansite is down.” It took me a second to process…I really was that tired. It was then that all the questions I’d wanted to ask my grandfather came back into my mind. “Wait. My site is down?!” I sat up quickly grabbing my laptop again. “Really your site that’s what you’re worried about I—” “Li-Mei! It’s not down! You nearly gave me a heart attack! Are you sure you have the right link?” “Forget about the damn site! My love life is evolving!”

I took a deep breath closing the laptop. “Fine, rewind. You met Malachi Lord today? What happened? What did he say to you? I bet he’s really nice—” “He’s a total asshole.” She snapped. “And a bit weird…he barely even made eye contact with me. He was like this wounded wolf—if you got too close he’d bite your head off.” Everything I’d pictured my favorite author to be like had just been incinerated in two sentences. No, wait… “Well in his defense he did just rescue your mother from a burning car. He was probably just injured and dealing with the stress of it all.” “Maybe…” She trailed off. “A few nurses were fans and asked for his autograph, apparently he said no and walked away.” “Well…” I didn’t have an excuse for that one. “Wait, then why do you love him—I mean have a crush on him?” “Esther,” she said like she couldn’t believe I was asking. “First, he is so handsome. Even more so in person. He’s muscular but not like a meat

head, so I guess more fit than muscular. I just wanted to reach out and touch his pecs. Oh, and by the way, he glares with those sultry blue eyes like he knows you know. He’s so handsome he could totally…” “Secondly?” I cut in before she went down that rabbit hole. “Oh, right…secondly he saved my mom. And thirdly he saved my mom from a burning car like Superman. And fourthly—” “Why did you say he saved your mom like it was an afterthought?” I laughed then remembered I hadn’t asked about her mother. “How is she a? Are you in Jersey now with her?” “Why do you think I’m speaking Mandarin?” “Li-Mei it is an ungodly time in the morning, does it seem like I’m functioning enough to think right now?” “I’m speaking in Mandarin,” she went on as if I hadn’t said anything, “so that my mother, who is in her room now, will hear parts of our conversation and be satisfied that I have Chinese friends.” “Li-Mei…I’m black.”

“She doesn’t know that,” she said it happily and I had to laugh. “Seriously though, you’d think a woman who just had a near death experience would be more worried about herself. Nope! Instead she’s using this as motivation to get me married, because apparently if she died I’d be all alone with my cats who, when I die of old age or of depression or both, will turn on me and start to eat my face because no one would realize that I’d died!” I held back the laughter that was fighting to break free. With my hand over my mouth I managed to say, “You’re making that up.” “Oh, that was actually her being kind. When I was twenty-four, we went back to Nanjing in China, for what I thought was a funeral for my uncle…guess what happened?” “There was no funeral?” “There was no uncle!” She hollered and I couldn’t help it. I laughed so hard the tears rolled down my cheeks. “No uncle. No funeral. Just my great aunts, my mom’s old friends, their sons and me, for this big,

weird matchmaking ceremony.” “Your mother is a savage.” She laughed. “Yup, a trait I inherited. Since then I’ve refused to keep my hair black and I only speak English whenever I’m around her in protest. Now is just a treat because she almost died. ” Are all mother-and-daughter relationships a battle of wills like this? “Which is why Malachi Lord is also my perfect husband.” “You’ve lost me again.” “He has everything I like in my guys—” “You said he was an ass!” “Exactly!” she replied and now my head hurt. Shifting onto my side I sighed and said, “Explain.” “All girls like bad boys. It’s the truth. Howard is nice and all but oh my god, he’s like a puppy—” “Hey! Puppies are cute!” I pouted. “Then why did you break up with him?” I had no response to that and it was annoying. I had broken up with Howard but that was only because I wasn’t sure what I wanted and I didn’t

like the idea of just having him on standby. I didn’t want to jerk him around. However, he, didn’t seem to get it and had simply said that he’d give me space…though he still texted me daily. “Exactly. Cute is nice but sexy is better.” She gloated. I didn’t need to see her face to know she was probably grinning from ear to ear. “Malachi… he’s not a puppy. He’s got that whole mystery to him. Like why does he live in places like Ho Ho Kus, New Jersey—” “I’m sorry, where?” I asked thinking my mind hadn’t translated correctly. “Ho Ho Kus, New Jersey. Let me guess, you haven’t heard of it? The name rang a bell but I had no idea as to why. When I didn’t speak she continued. “Yeah I grew up there, the Chihohokies Indian tribe say that Ho Ho or the Hohokes…” “Is that what they call the sound the tree bark makes when the wind blows?” “Yeah. So you’ve been there?” No. I hadn’t I didn’t even know how I knew

that. Had I read it somewhere? Maybe. But it was a weird thing to remember. “Esther?” “Huh? Sorry?” I shook my head clear. “Malachi —hot, mysterious, I’m following…well not really but still I’m here.” “Are you really that tired?” she asked but before I could once more remind her of what time she kept talking. “Anyway, he’s got this bad boy edge I like, but in reading his books you can tell he’s sensitive. Well…he at least knows how to get a girl going.” “Li-Mei.” “He’s also not Chinese.” I frowned at that. “What’s wrong with being Chinese?” “Nothing! But it will annoy my mother! And spare me from seeing the smug look that she would have plastered on her face for the rest of her life if I end up marrying and I quote ‘nice Chinese doctor or lawyer with a good family.’…” “So you’re in love with Malachi Lord because he’s the perfect way to spite your mother?”

“Exactly! With Malachi I can rebel, but she won’t be able to reject him because he’s her savior!” “You are a terrible person.” “You have no idea how crazy a mother can make you---shit, I’m so sorry!” “No.” I laughed though it wasn’t that funny. However, I didn’t want to make her feel bad and changed the subject. “I like your plan. Plus, it’s great story Li-Mei. The beautiful woman who searches for love in a modern world. The mother who wishes that love to come from their own history. The man, who saves them both, one in body, the other in heart.” I’d definitely read that.

MALACHI “Yes, Alfred?” I answered as I placed the phone on the bronzed granite countertop of the kitchen and grabbed the box cutter to open the final box.

“Normally I’d scold you…” He coughed and it wasn’t a normal cough, it was the type of cough that made people flinch because you were sure it was painful. “Ah…this gosh darn cough. Sorry, what was I saying?” I put the box cutter down and lifted the phone instead of taking it off speaker. “I’d forewent scoldment?” “You do realize that neither of those words are used in common vernacular. In fact, I’m not sure scoldment is a word at all.” There were many things I liked about Alfred Noëlle and until this very moment I assumed his directness was evenly distributed among all aspects of his life. But I now realized that he, like everyone else, was well equipped to be bold and direct towards others yet unable to do the same with himself. I was unsure of what to say so decided to say nothing at all. “Who would have known your silence would be more annoying than your actual comebacks.” I smirked at that and walked towards the window. “I’ve finally finished moving.”

“Finally? It’s only been three days. And I hired the movers. Did you even unpack anything?” “I’m not an invalid, Alfred. I’ll have you know that I unpacked the coffee maker all by myself.” Well, I was technically in the process of doing so, but he didn’t need to know that. I glanced out at the green trees that surrounded the house on all sides and found myself somewhat disappointed by the lack of colors despite the fact that it was nearly fall. “Of all places, why Montana?” “It was the last state that came to my mind,” I told him. “And now that I know who and where she is…I’m freer to roam around more on a different time zone.” “Are you sure Li-Mei is her?” “Yes.” I didn’t have to think about it. The connection I felt as we nearly touched. It was her. “It all makes sense…the way we met again. The impractical story of it all which could start a whole new romance, and I, in a moment of weakness—” “Humanity,” he corrected. “Still weakness.” Humanity may be why we

kept making the same mistakes over and over again. “The cliché of it all—I save the mother of the woman who not only works in the same publishing house that I write under, but is on the team that manages my work and as such is able to find out where I am. And in rushing to her mother’s side, we coincidentally and serendipitously met at the doors of the local hospital just as I was attempting to leave and she was attempting to enter…and thus the tragedy begins.” “Unless you move to Montana?” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Unless I make an effort not to fall in love with her this time, to put forest, rivers, and mountains between us.” “You do realize we have planes now?” I rolled my eyes as I sat on the cream colored couch. “Normally I’d scold—” “Not funny.” And while his reply was amusing, but I could no longer give him time to avoid his fears. “How much longer do you have, Alfred?” Silence.

“I was doctor in four of my past lives. I know that cough is not just a cough.” He snorted. “Four out of a thousand is horrible statistic.” “Says the man with tuberculosis in this era of modern medicine.” Silence again. And I didn’t mind silence. In fact, I preferred it which meant I could wait until he either hung up or spoke. He chose to speak. “They say it’s antibiotic resistant but not contagious. However….” “In a man your age it will be fatal.” He exhaled as if in relief. “The doctors here want to try all these new drugs and whatnot. Part of me said forget it because I wasn’t going to be anybody’s guinea pig. But then my granddaughter…” he laughed with joy at the thought of her. “She comes home crying, and though I’m used to her crying fits, I still gave her my attention and listened as she complained about the hero of the latest book she was reading. She called him every name under the sun for giving up on his love after finding out he had a terminal

illness. She said he should live on for love, and yadda, yadda, yadda. And at the end of her rant she hugged me and told me she loved me. I knew then that I was going to be a guinea pig.” I could feel the pain, the darkness slithering around me like a snake. I didn’t want to shoulder his pain but I couldn’t help it. “I’m sure you’d prepare a much more formal goodbye for me than this call, so what do you need from me, Alfred?” “Yes,” he finally said. “But let me make an excuse for it anyway.” Only Alfred. “I’m listening.” “We aren’t publishing your next novel because it’s boring.” I paused trying to pretend I didn’t hear that but I couldn’t. “I’m sorry, did you just say the tragedy that was one of my past lives is boring?” “Yes,” he replied and I was starting to hate this excuse. “It’s only boring because it ends like your other books. Everyone knows your face right now. They will be expecting greatness from their real-life hero and we can’t give them more of the same.” “So you want me to write a happily ever after?

They ride off into the rainbow-filled sunset?” It was like he was mocking me. “To the rest of the world it is fictional, but to me it is an autobiography. I can’t write what didn’t happen!” “I know, Malachi. I know which is why it’s an excuse,” he said and I relaxed slightly. “For?” “My granddaughter.” He didn’t bother to hide it any longer. “She’s smart, beautiful, funny, and just odd enough that it’s adorable, but most importantly she’s kind, she always makes those around her smile, and….and I don’t want the last time I see her or hear from her filled with…this. I don’t want her crying over me. With me gone, and you now knowing who your past lover is, I hoped she could spend the next couples of weeks in Montana with you while I seek treatment here. She’s a fan of your novels. In fact, she’s a super-fan. She’s the one who titles most of your novels and runs your fan page. If anyone can help you make up a happy ending it’s her. And I don’t want her figuring it out or meeting anyone by chance. She’s not trouble, you’d hardly even notice she’s there—”

“Send her when you’re ready.” He didn’t need to explain at all. He merely had to ask. “I don’t know about this book but I’ll keep playing along until...you return.” “Thank you.” “I’m a man of word.” No matter what lifetime, if someone of the Noëlle family needed help I’d offer it. It was my eternal debt to pay.

June 17th 1853- St. James Parish, Louisiana “Are you sure the lady is fine?” Philip de Noëlle asked from up above us as he held the plank of wood tightly at his side. I waited for her to answer because I knew he’d be more satisfied but she didn’t say a word, and even I looked to make sure she was alright, but she merely smiled that smile of hers, her eyes glistening with excitement and jubilation. “Mary-Margaret?” I spoke her name to get her attention, and when she blinked, her green eyes shifted to Dr. de Noëlle.

“I’m much more than fine, Sir. Thank you. You’re quite kind helping us like this.” When I looked back, his white face was dumbstruck as if he figured she’d be coming to her senses by now…now that we were miles away from her home and my bondage, and hiding in a dirt ditch as we tried to make it up north. “I’ll be back at night.” He reached beside himself and carefully dropped a flask of water and a basket of the peaches that grew behind the house into my hands. “They’re for her, you hear me, boy?” I nodded. I was more than happy to give them to her. “I’ll never forget this Dr. de Noëlle. I’m forever in your debt.” He didn’t say anything in reply. He didn’t get the chance to. He quickly placed the plank over us and the branches over it, allowing only the slightest amount of sunlight to reach us. “It’s almost over, Francis,” Mary-Margaret whispered as she rested her blonde head on my dark, bruised chest and ran her small white hands over the scars. “This life ain’t the easiest we’d ever

had, it may very well have been the hardest, but we’ll make it. You’ll see, this is the last one. Our last life.” I wanted to tell her she'd said those words before, that we'd fought the odds just like this before and lost. And yet here we were fighting once more. But I couldn't say those words ‘cause her hope gave me hope. Instead, I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. And the tighter I held her the more comfortable I became which is why I didn’t hear them. “You’ha dirty nigger!” “FRANCIS!” It happened quickly, too quickly for me to even gather my thoughts. Hands were everywhere, white hands, smacking me, beating me, pulling her away from me. “FRANCIS!” She screamed but I didn’t see her, though I tried to. I tried to protect my head, I tried to see her, to make sure they weren’t hurting her. It was her scream next that reassured me she’d be okay. “DADDY PLEASE! DADDY! STOP! FRANCIS!”

Master Bondurant was an evil man to just about everyone, but even evil men loved their daughters, so I figured Mary-Margaret wouldn’t die here. I didn’t think about the pain. In fact I’d lost the ability to hear anything, which was a shame, cause I wanted to hear her at least. I prayed I’d get to see her face one more time before I went…and that prayer was answered when the noose came around my neck and I was being dragged across the forest floor before being pulled. That’s how I saw her, her face bright red due to all her screaming and tears. Her younger brother, Adam, was holding her back as she kicked and fought to get to me, while her elder brother spat into my face. I wanted to say “Mary-Margaret stop fightin’ ‘em!” as there wasn’t anything she could or say or do but hurt herself at this point but I couldn’t on account of the rope…they hadn’t tied it right, or maybe they did and wanted me to suffer, cause it felt more like my throat was closin’ in than my neck breakin’. “FRANCIS!” By her voice I was able to hear again, fight on longer. “He ain’t even human, Mary!” Adam shook her

but she didn’t stop, not ‘til she was free and then she ran to me…stubborn to the very end that one was. She grabbed her father’s fallen pistols and pointed one towards Adam and the other towards her father. “Let him go, Daddy!” Her face was streaked with dirt. “MARY!” Master Bondurant called out to her in shock. “Mary, this ain’t you. What it do to you? Mary…” “DADDY, LET HIM GO! I ain’t gonna miss… just like you taught me.” Master Bondurant grunted and pushed her brother out of way so that he could pull the rope tighter. “NO!” She screamed and pointed both guns at him, causing Adam to charge after her in anger, which was never good for someone who wasn’t bright. He took the butt of his rifle and hit her as hard as he could, which for someone his size, was much harder than he should have. Her blonde hair spun as she recoiled from the blow and she fell face

forward into the dirt right under me as the guns fell from her hands. “Mary! Mary-Margaret!” Master Bondurant hollered as he let go of the rope and I fell to the ground. I saw red in the pool of her blonde hair among the dirt and grass. “What have you done?! Adam, what have you done! Mary! Mary!” “What is this?” Dr. De Noëlle came riding in on horseback. “Is this from the riot?” “Riot?” “A bunch of niggers are rioting upstream, I was on my way to help.” He lied. He was good a liar. Even I believed him. He hopped off his horse and rushed to Mary-Margaret. “Rush to my house tell my wife I need the blue vial,” he said to Adam, then to Bondurant and his other son, Sam, he said, “She’s going to need to be wheeled in. I need a barrow and as many sheets as possible!” They were about to hop to it when they remember me. Their compassion and worry now gone again. How did people turn it on and off like that? “We don’t have much time! He’ll bleed out

soon enough! GO!” They took satisfaction in that before running into the forest and to their horses. It was only then that Dr. de Noëlle came to me and I tried to speak again. “Save…” “She’s gone.” He frowned hovering over me. “She felt nothing. But she’s gone.” I think I knew that but hearing it hurt. Knowing she went first hurt. “I’ma go.” “When and if I can, I’ll bury you two together,” he said to me. “You want me to pray with you?” “I’ma go….” I said as my eyes closed. I’d meant to say I’ma going to see her again. But it he wouldn’t understand anyway so it was okay. *** “Ahh!” I exhaled as I found myself rolling off the couch and onto the wooden floor gasping for air. Trembling, I tried to breathe even though nothing could stop the panic and fear of dying that had crept over me.

Rolling onto my side, I curled into a ball and laid there until the pain went away and the trembling stopped. I wouldn’t have known how long that took if I hadn’t watched the sun go down over the trees in the window in front of me. “Why?” I asked rising from the ground. Expecting no answer and getting none I walked back into the kitchen and took out the coffeemaker and the packet of Italian Roast coffee. In the few minutes it took for it to brew I made myself a sandwich. Then I limped from the kitchen to my bedroom which contained nothing but my bed on the dark hardwood floor and dozens of covered canvasses that were all lined up against the walls. Placing my meal on the ground next to the painting I was working on, I sat down and cleaned off my paintbrush unable look away from her green eyes. “You didn’t have to die too,” I said to her as I dipped the ends of the brush into the white paint and signed not my name but the name of Francis. You didn’t have to but you stubbornly run towards me each time…this time you need to stay away. The paintbrush snapped from the pressure of

my fingers. But I kept thinking If there is any connection between us you must break it and stay away!

5. PERSONA NON GRATA ESTHER “Ah!” I hissed in pain as I grabbed my head. “Sorry! The roads aren’t really paved this way,” The taxi driver said as I opened my eyes, but I immediately flinched at the sunlight. “Oh no, it’s fine. I’ve had this headache since yesterday,” I said sitting up in the back seat of the car and adjusting the seatbelt near my neck. I checked my watch and saw that it was almost eleven a.m. I’d meant to be there bright and early this morning but somehow I ended up missing my first flight, which meant I had to catch the next plane out which, due to emergency weather conditions, ended up landing three hours away. And because this little town was in the middle of nowhere, Montana, there was no train station and I found myself paying for a taxi. Which was surprisingly still far cheaper than the fare in city.

“How much further?” “Not far, it’s just on the other side of the lake.” Lake? Glancing out the window I saw the very hard to miss unless you were jet-lagged, hungry and annoyed, bright blue lake which sat at the bottom of the mountain ridge. In the distance I could see a few houses and buildings in the greens that led up the mountain. “Wow.” I’d seen things like this in movies and even had something exactly like it as the screensaver on my laptop but seeing it up-close and in person... The vast green treetops that went on endlessly, the beautiful ridged mountains, mountains that even had snow on their peaks. “Ain’t no New York, but it ain’t’ bad either, huh?” He laughed nodding his head proudly. “Yeah, it ain’t bad,” I whispered winding the window down which caused my hair to blow around my face but I didn’t care. Holding it back with my hand, I briefly caught a glance of a sign as we drove past. “Welcome to Lieber Falls... Yours to

Rediscover.” I read out loud. “Kinda catchy right? Ten years ago not many people came up this way—what the—?” “What?” I looked forward just in time to see the smoke coming out from under the hood. “No!” “Sorry! Sorry, I’m going to have to pull over!” he said as he swerved onto the shoulder of the road and set the car into park before quickly jumping out. I watched as he waved away the gray smoke that was rising with his coat before he used it to lift the hood. In doing so, the smoke spilled into the car. “Ugh!” I coughed and just as I climbed out the car my phone rang. “H…Hello?” “Esther? Are you okay?” “No, I am not okay, Grandpa.” I coughed again as I walked further away from the car. “Where in the world did you send me to, Grandpa? I think this place hates me! It was supposed to take four hours…and yet here I am seven hours…seven and half hours later still trying to get there! Why? Because my taxi broke down right in front of a lake. Not to mention I haven’t eaten anything

today. My head feels like it’s about to split in two. And my cellphone reception keeps going in and out.” “Breathe.” I took a deep breath. “I am and it’s not helping.” “Breathe again.” “Grandpa.” “Esther.” Sighing I did as he said. “One more time, and this time turn to your right.” “My right?” I turned. “What am I’m I supposed to be seeing?” “I don’t know, I’ve never been to Montana,” he replied with a snicker. “Gran—” “I’ve never been but I’ve heard it’s beautiful. Is it?” This time I knew what he was trying to do and it was working. How could it not when I really stopped to admire the nature around me. “It really is, Grandpa. Kinda feels like I stepped into one of

Henry David Thoreau’s novels.” “Which one?” Of course he’d ask that. Thinking about it as I walked down the trail that sloped towards the water I recited a quote for him so that he’d know which book I was referring to—“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” “Walden.” He sighed happily. “I should reread that one.” “Me too. I guess it will make more sense when I’m actually in the wild and not on a rooftop in some major city like London,” I teased. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to guilt me or just sulking, meanwhile I’ve sent you to spend some time with your favorite author.” “And I’m excited…but on the other hand, finding out your favorite author is an asshole isn’t the greatest feeling in the world.” “Language!” “Sorry. Finding out that your favorite author is

a jerk…isn’t the greatest feeling in the world.” “Malachi is…” He sighed. “Like I told you before, Malachi is a good person with—” “With a bad past.” I finished for him. “I know. I do run his fansite.” Meaning I knew his biography…though it was short. He was born in St. James Parish, Louisiana on November 2nd, thirty years ago tomorrow. He lived there until he was nine, when his mother packed up the family car and moved to New York with the hopes of breaking into Broadway. It wasn’t until a year later, that she met my grandfather at a casting call for Les Misérables, however instead of gaining a role as one of the extras, Grandpa cast her as Fantine. One of the biggest shows of all time, with a big name director, along with dozens of people thinking she was undeserving, must have been the reason why she cracked under the pressure. The night of the show she got drunk, and without leaving him any choice, he kicked her off the set. The next morning she committed suicide. Grandpa had been looking out for Malachi ever since. I’m sure he knew it wasn’t his fault, but Grandpa still couldn’t walk away from

it. After that, Malachi’s life was pretty much standard. He went to Princeton on a scholarship, studied English and Art History, and published his first novel a month before graduation which was a runaway bestseller. After that he’d basically dropped off the face of the earth until his accident last week. “Esther? Esther—?” “Huh?” I shook my head clear and turned back around towards the slope. “Sorry I got lost in my thoughts for a moment. I’m so tired and this damn taxi…” I glanced to my right and then my left. No. No way. “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!” I screamed. “What? What is it?” “The taxi’s gone!” “What do you mean gone?” “I mean gone!” I screamed as I stood on the main road and looked back the way we came. “As in not here! As in I’m in the middle of nowhere without my bags or my wallet! I don’t even have a jacket! GRANDPA!” He said nothing. Not nothing like he couldn’t

believe it nothing, but nothing as in my phone service was gone! “COME ON!” Kicking the air and jumping in rage I turned around and of course because I was obviously cursed, there was not a single car in sight. I fought back the panic that was rising in my soul as I tried to think. I wasn’t sure what else to do but think. “Okay Esther, breathe.” I coached myself while fanning fresh air to my nose. “That’s right, keep breathing…keep breathing. You’re okay. You’re okay. I mean it feels like the setup of a Stephen King novel, but come on, I’m sure the murder rate is much higher in New York.” I paused. Was I trying to make myself feel better or worse? Whatever the murder rate was it didn’t matter if you were the person being freakin’ murdered! “Why did I fall asleep?” I didn’t even know how far anything was from here! But chances were there was town close by. Going back was safer. No. For some reason it didn’t feel right to turn back. I wasn’t far from the house. I can make it. I wasn’t sure where the confidence came from

or why I thought I had the ability to navigate myself to someone’s house. I mean the closest I’d been to the woods was Central Park! “Ugh! That’s kinda of depressing,” I muttered to myself. Staring back at the lake I hoped my service would kick back in as I walked back down the slope to the spot that I was in before. However, not even the signal bar service came up. Just the words No Service as if were mocking me. “Not all those who wander are lost,” I whispered to myself as I walked closer to the lake. I wasn’t sure if walking on the road was the best choice…especially after reading Hitchhikers by Teddy Grey. The sun was setting which meant that anybody who’d been fishing around the lake would be going home. So they’d have to come ashore, right? And most houses would be right off the lake, right? I mean why live by the lake if you didn’t want to see the lake… I don’t know how long I walked but I saw no house, no boat or fisherman, and eventually no sun. Instead of looking for help I walked over to the

rocks by lake and sat down. I muttered to myself, “Lieber Falls, I don’t feel very welcome right now.”

MALACHI “Is she there?!” I didn’t know what to say to him other than the truth. “No.” “MALACHI!” “Alfred, I’ll find her alright? Just…just let me call you back.” I hung up quickly. I didn’t like hearing him like that. The panic and fear. He’d always been levelheaded and I needed him to stay like that. Leaning forward to grab the handlebar of my motorcycle I was just about to kick off when I saw a ripple on the surface of the water. Then something small, too small for me to see in the darkness of the night, bounced off the top of it. It wouldn’t have been odd if it weren’t for that it kept happening over and over again. It was a man-made

lake. So other than the minor waves brought by the wind, the ripples could only be done by someone or thing falling inside. Leaning back, I dismounted my bike and placed my helmet on the handle before walking down the slope with the aid of the little flashlight that hung from my keys. The path was clear enough that I could see footprints at the bottom near to the water’s edge. Following them around the side of the water I didn’t have to call out to see if anyone was there because I heard the singing. It was loud and it wasn’t very good, in fact it was strange…mostly for the song choice. “I simply must go.” Her voice was high and then dropped to what I guess she thought a man’s voice sounded like. “Baby, it's cold outside.” And then went up again. The figure of her, sitting on a rock with her knees drawn up to her chest as she swayed back and forth, and her dark brown hair, which stopped a few inches past her shoulder, swayed with her as she sang the oddest version of Baby, It's Cold Outside I’d ever heard.

“Baby, it's cold outside…” “It’s not really that cold,” I said as I moved a little closer. You’d think someone who was described as “scared of her own shadow” and had a tendency to “jump to the wildest conclusions” would be a lot more disturbed that some man she’d never met before was walking up to her. However, she was not, which meant that either her grandfather really didn’t know her well or she had no concept of selfpreservation at all. It had to be the latter of the two because she stretched out her legs and stepped into her flats before walking up to me. Even with the moonlight reflecting off the lake I couldn’t see her until she was close. I’m not sure why, but each step she took felt like it slowed down time until she was finally in front of me. The smile on her face was so wide and so genuine it threw me off. Her brown eyes glazed over but she held back her tears. “I knew Grandpa would send you. Hi, Malachi. Sorry I’m so late…” And just like that she collapsed and I instinctively reached out to catch

her. Did this woman really just faint? “Zzzz.” She snored softly giving me my answer…Mid-sentence, while standing, she’d fallen asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should be amazed or annoyed, so I went with both. “Aye.” I shook her but she didn’t even budge. “If you think I’m the type of man who will leave my bike on the road to carry you through the forest, you’re mistaken.” I tried again. I tried everything and she still didn’t budge. If it weren’t for the snoring, I would have thought she was dead. “If anything happens to that bike I’m going to be pissed.” I muttered as I lifted Sleeping Beauty up and started to walk. *** “You’ve reached Alfred Benjamin Noëlle, leave a message after the…” I hung up and stared at the phone again. That feeling…that feeling I hated… rising in my chest again. It was already morning and

he hadn’t answered any of my calls. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d call and he didn’t get back to me within the hour no matter the time of day. Especially given the circumstances of last night and the fact that he didn’t even know what had become of his beloved granddaughter. But you’re going to have to get used to this. The rational of part of me thought and yet I found myself redialing the only number in my phone. “You’ve reached Alfred Benjamin Noëlle, leave a message after the beep…” BEEP! “Alfred…um…I found her. She’s fine. She’s sleeping…hurry up and answer, you know how I hate…I mean…just call me back.” Hanging up I sat back against the wall of my room and sipped my now cold cup of coffee. I finished the cup before I reached over and turned off the lamp, which wasn’t effective anyway since sunlight was already streaming through the smallest gap between the dark drapes. I contemplated getting up to close them but I didn’t want to get up. Instead, I closed my eyes hoping that I was uncomfortable enough to not dream.

THUD. “Oua… gosh bul-ah!” My eyes snapped open and I glanced at the wall to my right. What in the hell? That wasn’t even words…followed by the sound of the floorboards creaking as she walked. “Hello?” she whispered softly. I rose to my feet as though I were emerging out of a coffin since I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep with her awake and wandering about. Taking a shirt from the floor, I pulled it over my head before I walked into the hall. I expected her to be at the door of the guest room but instead I found her standing at the top of the stairs with her brown hands gripping her pillow as though it were a weapon. Part of me was curious as to how she thought a pillow, out of all the stuff in that room, was going to be her best weapon of defense. Standing on balls of her bare feet she whispered a little louder, “Hello—” “Yes?” “Ah!” She screamed and spun around so quickly that all I saw was white as the pillow hit the side of my face so hard I stumbled back as it

ripped, sending an explosion of feathers everywhere. “Jesus Christ you scared me!” I stood there in shock, my jaw aching, while the white feathers fell around us like snow. “I. Scared. You?” I repeated softly at first before losing it as feather nearly entered my mouth. Smacking it away and I stomped closer to her and screamed. “ARE YOU INSANE?!” Eyes wide she attempted to step back though she didn’t have the space, and as she did, she reeled at the top of the stairs as her body tilted backward. I reached out and grabbed ahold of her wrist but she only managed to drag me along with her. We tumbled once before I was able to clench the wooden railing while she held on to me. This woman… “Are you okay? Are your hands okay?!” she asked when she was able to break free of my arm and sit on the stair. Pulling myself upright, I bit my tongue and exhaled. “You’re bleeding.” She moved to reach for my elbow but I stuck my hand out which luckily was

the universal sign for STAY BACK! “Go downstairs. Do not touch anything. Do not go anywhere. Don’t breathe if will cause another disaster.” I hissed out as I rose and walked back upstairs towards my room and slammed the door behind me before I moved to the bed and picked up my phone. “You’ve reached Alfred Benjamin Noëlle, leave a message after the beep…” BEEP! “She’s not trouble?! I’ll hardly notice she’s here?!” I hollered into the phone. “Alfred, your granddaughter radiates trouble. If trouble was within a ten-mile radius of her, it would come running until it knocked her over. I notice her. I notice her a lot! Call her and tell her to go somewhere else!” Hanging up I tossed the phone back onto the sheets. Taking a deep breath and wincing at my scraped elbow I lifted it higher to see. Walking to my bathroom, I ran cold water over it and covered the wound with a clean hand towel before I headed back into my new battlefield. I was worried that if I left her alone for any period of time she’d

accidentally start a damn forest fire. “I deserved that,” she said as she sat on the second-to-last step of the stairs looking out the window. “I mean, I haven’t even been here for even a full day yet and I’ve managed to…oh, where do I start? I missed my flight, flew to the wrong town, got robbed by my taxi driver…” She started to laugh but put her hand over her head. “Sorry! Urgh! But seriously, who does that happen to? From there I got lost in the woods, and now I’ve maimed you.” She glanced over her shoulder up at me with a smile, though it wasn’t the same smile she’d given me last night. This one was forced. She nodded at my elbow “I’m really sorry. I fell off the bed and panicked because I didn’t know where I was…I’m not normally such a klutz, I swear. I’ll talk to my grandfather and—” “You’re annoying,” I said to her. She frowned as she rose to her feet. “I’m trying to apologize here!” “I know which is why you’re annoying,” I said as I sat on the same step she’d just been sitting on. I dabbed my wounded elbow. “You should allow me

the courtesy of being annoyed with you for a little longer before apologizing and then making me the asshole who doesn’t want to accept your apology.” “What kind of logic is that?” I looked up at her. “My logic. And since this is my house and I’m your client my logic is the only logic that matters.” She made a face and eyed me up and down before she sat down beside me. “Esther Noëlle. Translation Editor at Penohxi Publishing House, retiring klutz, persona non grata of Lieber Falls, and creator of Lord Nation online. I’m your biggest fan.” She stuck her hand, which had about four different rings on each of them, out and I stared at it for a moment then at her. “If you don’t shake it, I’ll feel super lame and if my defenses are down who knows how much trouble will find me.” She was right. She was lame. “Malachi Lord,” I said as I reached out and took her hand, and the moment I did, a pain unlike anything I’d felt before rushed through me. I

dropped the towel as my vision blurred and I fell forward. “Malachi? Malachi!” “Don’t…call 911.” Was what I wanted to say but everything went black as I fell into the past.

6. POMEGRANATE BLOSSOMS MALACHI 1599 Bhadra (August) – Lahore, Capital of Hindustan, the Mughal Empire. Returning from the war, as I sat by the king’s side, Love came to me and asked, “Will you die for me? Will you walk through fire for me? Would you forsake the sweetest of wines and the greatest of feasts to never let go of my hand?” She glanced up from her instrument, golden rings upon her fingers, dressed in the most beautiful greens and jewels, her feet bare upon red tiles of very best of the courtesan quarters which Emperor Akbar, my father, had given her. Her long, brown braid lay over her shoulder where it spilled onto her lap. Seeking to deny me her smile and the beautiful warmth of her sun-colored eyes, she returned to her instrument, gently playing as she inquired, “And

your answer to love was?” “My answer,” I repeated following the shapes on the ground—green and gold on the other layer, following the pattern to her. “My answer was as Love expected.” “Love expects nothing. Not even love in return,” she murmured, her hands and eyes still fixed on the instrument. Reaching the red flower pattern right behind her I placed my hand on the side of her cheek and she leaned on it. “My love does,” I whispered as I stroked her cheek. “So I said yes. I said yes to love. What is life without you? Let me die for I wish never to know. What is fire to one whose heart is ablaze? For I am fire for you.” “And what of wine and feast?” she asked as I sat down beside her. “That I could not release.” And before she could look away I placed my thumb on her pink lips. “For the sweetest of all wines are your lips, and greatest of feasts are the ones in which I may share with you.” “Salim.” She giggled. “You are a prince in this

life and yet you are still a poet.” “Anarkali.” I grinned. “Who would not become a poet at the sight of you?” “I do not care about who else…not even the Emperors.” She hung her head and with the crook of my finger, I lifted her chin. Her face was more serious than I’d ever seen as she said, “I am not his courtesan.” “You are not.” I agreed and as she relaxed I said, “You are mine.” “You!” She reached out to smack me but I was already on my feet. “Why do you not like the word courtesan?” I teased and as she lifted up her lehenga to chase after me, her odhani fell which offered me a clear sight of her waist and belly, allowing her to reach out and grab me in my distraction. “If I am the only woman you touch again,” she whispered in my arms as I placed my hands upon her skin and drew her waist closer to me. “And if no man but you touches me…then I shall accept the word courtesan proudly.” “And wife?”

She reached up, her fingers lightly touching the scar upon my eye. “This time you are the Prince of Hindustan. I cannot be anything more than a courtesan.” “Everything I am changes, but my love for you. You are my wife until we are no more. Of all of Emperor Akbar’s sons, I am his favorite, I will request you as a reward for victory in the war. You shall become my courtesan. I shall have no other but you, and when I am the king of Hindustan, when no one can stand in our path, you shall be my wife.” I had more than hope. I could see it. How possible it was for us to finally be together and she could too, which was why she threw her arms around me and pressed her body against my own. “Anarkali! Anarkali!” We broke away quickly as the woman’s giggling voice reached us, and Anarkali dashed to pick up her veil while I hid in the corner behind the mirror where I was unable to see her as the girl came inside. “Mansi? Do not run—” “Anarkali you are the luckiest woman in all the

world.” The woman sighed happily. “Oh if only the Emperor would call for me!” “The Emperor calls for me?” She repeated much more softly and hearing the words once more, reassuring me it was not a nightmare but the force seeking to keep us apart in this life…my father. “I came to see if you wanted help with preparations. And do not forget me tomorrow when you’ve truly become the Emperor’s—” “No!” She hollered. “Anarkali?” “I am unwell, Mansi. Before they arrive tell them I am unfit to see the Emperor.” I heard footsteps close in until they were beside me. I glanced to my left, watching as she took off her veil, and select one of the scented oil from her trunk. She allowed a few drops to fall upon it before returning the oil and walking away. Never once did she look to me. “Have them give him my veil, and I will come for it tomorrow.” “Anarkali…why are you unwell? Do you need —?”

“My chest pains me but do not worry. Go. Do not keep the Emperor waiting,” she replied. Saying she’d return, the girl left just as loudly as she came. It was only when it was silent that I came out from behind the mirror. She stood in the middle of the red flower of her room with her arms wrapped around herself. Looking up to me as if she were already the Queen of Hindustan she ordered. “Save me from this or I shall rather die and meet you again elsewhere.” “I will,” I said as I reached out and placed my hand upon her cheek again. “Smile. What is it you always tell me?” She tried not to, but couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from turning up. “We’ll make it. You’ll see. This is the last one. Our last life.”

ESTHER BEEP… BEEP…

“99.1°F.” I read. “It’s coming down.” Sighing in relief I reached for the cold patch on his forehead when suddenly his hand grabbed me, and his eyelids snapped open he tightened his hold. “Ahh!” “Who are you?” His blue eyes glared at me as he pulled me in closer. “Who are you?!” “LET GO!” I hollered, scratching his arm as I tugged my hand away from him. “What is wrong with you?!” Damn that hurt. I rubbed my wrist and he kept glaring as if he really didn’t know who I was. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe the fever had left him dazed. “Esther Noëlle? Alfred Noëlle’s granddaughter—” “I know! But who…” He paused, his gaze drifting to my hands, one of which was rubbing my sore wrist and the other gripping onto the thermometer. “You were wearing rings?” “Huh?” “The rings! The ones on your hand when you shook mine? Those rings?” He was insane and I didn’t want to get closer to him. I pointed to the rings which sat on the coffee

table next to the bottle of water, medicine, and ice packs. He reached out to touch them but hesitated. It was then that I remembered Jeff Wheeler’s novel The Queen's Poisoner. “Are you allergic to nickel?” I asked carefully leaning in and he lifted his head to look at me and I leaned back again. “It’s not gold.” I snickered. “I doubt Li-Mei would have given me her solid gold rings. I’m sure it’s made up of a whole bunch of different metals but I read that even the slightest amount of nickel can cause—” “These are Li-Mei’s?” he asked softly looking back at them. “Mine now…but they were hers. We share stuff all the time.” Her hands are smaller than mine so instead of dealing with the hassle of returning them, she’d given them to me. He stared at them without saying anything and I found myself walking forward. He looked like he was in pain. Not physically but…like he was recalling something sad. Reaching for the empty ice-patch box he flipped it over, covered the rings

and slid them to the end of the table and into the box. Rising to his feet, he walked over and handed the box to me. Confused and a bit stunned I took them slowly. He peeled the patch off his forehead and placed it over my wrist. “Sorry.” He muttered pressing it down. “You’re right, I have nickel allergy. I’m usually much better at avoiding it but it seems I overlooked it.” “Crap.” I sighed dropping my head. “I guess I can add poisoning you to my list of screw ups today.” He stepped back and looked around the house which had the most picturesque wide-open views I’d ever seen. The whole house itself was made of wood, and yet most of the furniture felt much more modern. The colors kind of bored me though. Everything was bland. Like a model home. Maybe it was a way to make the inhabitants focus on the views? “You cleaned up? How long was I out?” “It’s a little after noon, so I guess about five hours. My grandfather said not to call for help and that you’d be okay. I was nervous and decided to

clean up seeing as how I caused the mess in the first place.” “Alfred? He called you?” “Yep. I was able to find a charger in one of the boxes in the guest room along with some old clothes…seeing as everything else I owned was in that jacka…don’t curse, Esther…” I corrected myself. “That thief ’s car. You should lie down, maybe eat—” “I smell coffee,” he said, and like a bloodhound he walked around me and headed towards the kitchen. Without cream or sugar or even bothering to heat the pot he took a black mug from the cabinet, filled it, and chugged it. “I’ll take you to file a police report. You can take the rest of my mom’s clothes to the guesthouse when you get back,” he said as he placed the cup back on the counter. So many important things had been said in those two sentences. While I was contemplating how to reply he was already walking back to the stairs. “Wait!” I reached out to him mid-step.

“What now?!” Forgive him, he has a fever. Clamping my mouth closed I shook my head. He merely rolled his eyes and continued on his way up towards his room. Reaching into the back pocket of the ever-sostylish late 90s high-waisted jeans with the hole in the knee that I now wore, I took out my phone and texted what I wanted to say instead.

MALACHI Happy Birthday! It’s why I said wait. I wanted to say it to you but I get that I’m probably not making it all that happy. Also about your mom’s clothes… I’m sorry for going through your stuff. I kinda ripped my pants moving you onto the couch. And before you say I’m a klutz remember I was moving dead weight in skinny jeans! :D Lol. Yeah but thanks for all of this. Starting tomorrow I’m going to be much more professional. We’ll get the book

done! Lastly, as I said, I’m your biggest fan and run your fansite. I decided to replace the site with a countdown to your birthday and told everyone to reflect on why they are fans, then send videos of their thoughts, it’s live now. Thank god I set it before my laptop was stolen! Here’s the link…

www.LordNationOnline.com/LoveyouMalachi01/HB_wishes Part of me, the suppressed egotistical part of me, was tempted to look. But the rest of me knew that Li-Mei would be among the messages and I didn’t want anything else to trigger a memory. If her rings alone could do that, then what could a video do? Closing her message I realized something else— she now had my number. “…this life,” I whispered as I contemplated whether or not I should save her number. I was just about to hit delete when Alfred’s call came in. Relaxing, I answered. “You’re still alive.” “So are you. Thirty-two missed calls though? I’m a little touched, Malachi.” He chuckled and strangely sounded much better.

“What happen to you?” “This and that but the drugs they gave seem to be helping actually.” “So how do I return your granddaughter?” “Aye, she nursed you back to health didn’t she?” “She put an ice-patch on my head, which has left a strange red rectangular mark behind, and—” “And she ripped her jeans lifting you onto the couch.” She’d told him that too? “Honestly, does she not have any filter? Or the ability to stay on her feet—” “Give her some slack you ungrateful little …” He sighed. “She’s shy around new people so she tends to either do too much or freeze up. Besides, it doesn’t help that she doesn’t know how to treat you.” “What does that mean?” “It means she knows I basically raised you after your mother passed. So you’re like…cousins.” “Cousins?” “Exactly! To her you’re like a long-lost

successful cousin and she wants you to like her.” “And you know this how?” “She said so when I called.” She’d said so? Of course. Us, cousins…The more I thought about it the more I actually felt a little relieved. “At least she isn’t in love with me...” “Yes, because you’re so easy to love and women are falling at your feet on a daily basis.” “Your sarcasm is unappreciated.” He laughed…but it was followed by that cough again. He coughed so loudly that even though he pulled the phone from his ear I could hear him just as clearly. “Esther in love?” he said when he finally returned the phone to his lips. His voice was much softer now. “That girl wouldn’t know love if she ran right into her soulmate. Unlike some other person I know. How painful was it this time?” The irony of him asking about my pain as he sat in pain wasn’t lost on me. “It wasn’t painful. Get some rest. Don’t worry about her.” “I’m not just worried about her, Malachi. If

you’re her cousin, it makes you my grandson. I’m worried about you.” I snickered as I walked into my bathroom. “Don’t get all sentimental, that’s something someone says as they go quietly into the night.” Silence. “Alfred?” “Your heart dropped a little bit there, didn’t it?” He snorted as he chuckled. This old… “Goodb—I’ll talk to you later, Alfred!” Hanging up I stared at the screen which glowed with the option to delete his granddaughter’s number…my new cousin apparently. “Crazies flock together,” I muttered as I hit save.

ESTHER Why was I like this? An introvert some days, an extroverted the

next. Which would have been okay if it didn’t keep adding to the mountain worth of inconsistencies I tended to find in myself. There were days in which I hated winter and days in which I loved it. I loved the sunshine but I also loved the rain. I liked all the colors in the rainbow. Some days I loved the smell of coffee but there were other days when I couldn’t stand to drink it. I could be a vegetarian for a year and then wake up one day and eat a whole stack of bacon. Religion? I’d done almost all of the most widely practiced religions and enjoyed them. I could fight some days, not just any fighting but kickass Mortal Kombat-Karate Kid-Eye of the Tiger-style fighting, and then the next I would find myself tripping down a flight of stairs and unable to do anything right! It was so frustrating! I didn’t know who I was. Not like what my name was or who my family was, but who I, Esther Noëlle, was on the inside. If I was a little bit of everything didn’t that mean I was a little bit of nothing too? What was wrong with me? “You ready?” “Huh?” I sat up and quickly wiped my eyes.

He froze at the glass door of his cabin-styled home as he regarded me with his contemplating his blue eyes. He was wearing dark blue jeans that were tucked into black boots, and a black leather jacket over his green and blue flannel shirt. “I cry a lot,” I said much quicker than I wanted and I felt like kicking myself but tried to save face by saying, “My grandfather says my tear ducts are loose and so my eyes tear up even when the wind blows. HA!…So how far is the police station I really hope they can find my stuff—” “The report is simply for insurance proposes,” he said as he walked down the first few steps of the house. “Your things are most likely long gone by now.” “Right.” I should have figured that. Without another word he kept walking until he stood upon the driveway and I followed expecting to see a car when he lifted the garage door. But instead, sitting in the middle of the oversized garage was a pure black Harley. He headed past it and picked up a helmet from the counter at the back of the garage before coming back and handing it to

me. The helmet that was supposed to protect my skull…though I wasn’t buying it. “Would you prefer to walk?” he asked as he kicked his foot over the motorcycle and sat down. “You just got over a fever and—” “Last chance.” He started the bike. Taking the helmet from him I put it on before I nervously climbed onto the bike. I sat behind him unsure of what to do with my hands but he reached back and placed my hands around his waist. “Hold on tightly. And don’t worry, I’ve never fallen before.” “You’ve never ridden with me.” I reminded him. “I’m a klutz now.” The corner of his lip turned up as he kicked the stand up. “I thought you said you retired?” Before I could reply he launched the bike forward and I closed my eyes and held on tighter, as my hair flew up and all around me as we cut through the wind. “Open your eyes!” He hollered at me. “I’m good, thanks!” I yelled into the wind. “You’re crushing my liver!”

My eyes snapped open and my hands loosened. However, I saw that the smirk was still on his lips. “Relax. Look.” He nodded towards the lake and I watched the way the water seemed to sparkle as we passed by. We were not where I’d been abandoned but were instead on the side that was closer to the mountains. I didn’t know why or how, but I began to relax and the wind no longer bothered me. The fact that there was nothing to separate me from the road below or the air around me felt strangely familiar and, as he rode on, I let go of him completely and outstretched my hands as far as I could from my body. Why did this feel so nice? “Malachi, this is amazing! I feel like…like… I’m riding a horse!—Ah!” I clasped my hands around him tightly once more as the bike swerved but I felt his chest shake as he chuckled. “That was not funny! Ugh!” I coughed as I clutched at my throat, really hoping that what I thought just flew into my mouth hadn’t actually flown into my mouth. He drove us right into the heart of the small

town which sat a little way off from the foot of the mountains and in the midst of the massive trees. I realized then that if I had walked in the opposite direction of his house, I would have been much worse off, and probably completely unable to find anyone. Lieber Falls, population of one thousand and ten—eleven if you now included me—was completely hidden, a small town tucked into the valley with a massive lake and trees sprinkled in. He pulled to a stop at the red brick building where a statue of two little kids—one was holding on to the pole which held the Montana state flag and the other had a bird nestled inside its outstretched hand. “Are you getting off?” “No. I plan on growing roots here.” I made a face behind his back. I was really getting tired of him talking down to me. Stepping off the bike I removed my helmet and tried to fix my hair—the keyword being tried. “You done?” “Do you always ask these many questions or are you just trying to annoy me?” I asked him.

“I’m annoying you?” “Yes.” I turned toward the building. “Not coming?” “Actually, no. I said I’d bring you here not hold your hand and walk you through. You really shouldn’t inconvenience your clients, Ms. Noëlle.” I watched in shock as he zipped off down the street, the black of his jacket and his bike disappearing as other cars pulled out of their parking spots. “Fine! I’ll go in alone! No big deal.” I spun on my heels and looked straight at the building as two officers stepped out. One of them gave me a look over as he walked to his green and white squad car. I smiled and nodded at him as I walked into the building which was actually much smaller on the inside. As I looked around I saw that two drunk men lay snoring on the floor of the holding cell. Leaning against the counter with a coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other an old, white woman who had crow’s feet around her brown eyes and whose gray hair was cropped short behind her ears looked at the two men and shook her head before

noticing me. She looked me up and down from my bell bottoms to my face, and her chewing slowed. “Hi. My name is Esther Noëlle—” “Let me guess…” She stood up straighter. “You were robbed coming into town yesterday?” My mouth dropped opened. “How…” “This is my town, young lady, I know everything that happens here—” “Alfred Noëlle called yesterday demanding a manhunt to find you. I could hear him yelling on the other side of the phone.” A tall younger man with blond hair and brown eyes came around the counter and stood beside the woman who glared at him. “I’d never seen my grandmother get bossed around before—ouch!” “You ain’t seen the inside of your own stomach yet either.” She lifted her mug up as if she were about to smack him with it. “And it’s Sheriff to you, Officer Richards. Sheriff Eleanor Richards, been that way for the last—” “Last hundred years?” he asked smiling wide at her. “Keep smiling. I’ll see how much you smile

when I start docking your paycheck.” She nodded as she walked back to her office. “Sheriff!” “Let the guys know we don’t need a search anymore.” She nodded at me then frowned. “And tell your grandfather we’ll find the thief. We backwater cops know how to do our jobs thank you.” The door slammed behind her. I cringed. “Please don’t tell me my grandfather called you all backwater cops? I’m so sorry I got him all—” “It’s okay. Lieber is pretty backwater.” He grinned and handed me a clipboard. “Besides, like I said my grandmother has never been so tongue-tied before. Here, fill this out and we’ll see if anything pops up in a pawn shop or online.” I gasped in relief. “Thank you, Officer Richards.” “That was my father. You can call me David.” He grinned and I stared up at him. And to think LiMei said we all wanted bad boys. Ha! Give me a nice guy any day. “You okay?” he leaned forward.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking you’re really nice.” I smirked “I’m not always nice, you just happen to be cute.” He winked and nodded to the clipboard. “It’s the bell bottoms isn’t it?” I asked as I twisted my leg for him to see and as he laughed so did I… finally.

MALACHI How long did it take to file a damn report? It was a minute after five in the afternoon and she still hadn’t called for me to come get her. Was she lost again? Should I go...why should I? The sun was still up but knowing her she’d most — Knowing her? How did I know her? I’d only just met her. Whatever! She was big girl…who managed to catch a ride with a thief, get lost, and fall down a flight of stairs in less than twenty-four

hours. Alfred, you better not die and leave me with this girl! I groaned as I dropped the paintbrush, rose from the floor and snatched my leather jacket from the bed while rushing down the stairs. I opened the front door just as the red and blue lights of the squad car pulled up in front of my house. Great, what had she done now? “Hi, you’re here!” She waved at me like we hadn’t seen each other in four decades and not four hours. “Of course I’m here, I live here,” I reminded her once I reached the bottom. Ignoring me, she and the blond-haired officer pulled out bags of… of God knows what out of his car. “This town is amazing! I love it!” She declared. Coming up the steps he stood eye to eye with me. “Ah, so you’re Esther’s top secret client. Nice to meet you, I’m Officer David Richards.” He stretched out his hand but I reached for the bags instead and took them from him. “Thank you for driving her back, Officer.” “And for the tour. If you see Mr. Baker before I

do don’t you dare help him cheat.” She pointed her finger at him while struggling to hold her other bags. “Me? Never.” He nodded as he glanced down at the bags in her hands. Before he could take them from her I reached down and pick them up as well. His brown eyes shifted to me. “It was nice meeting you, though I’d love to get a name other than ‘the author?’” “Am I required by law to give you my name —?” I bit my tongue as she jabbed her elbow into my ribs. “Told you authors are a bit crabby sometimes. Thank you again, David, and please tell the sheriff that I’m deeply sorry for the backwater comment on behalf of my grandfather. Let her know I’ll surely have a word with my grandpa about it.” “You apologize too much.” “Yep. I’m part Canadian, don’t you know?” Was I not here? Was that what was happening? Had I become invisible? “Mr. Author.” He nodded to me and I nodded back as he got back into his squad car and pulled

away. Esther was giving him the same goodbye wave she’d given me. “Wow, you really can’t help yourself can you?” She turned to me, daring to cross her arms. “He was being nice.” “The last nice guy you met here robbed you, remember? Sorry if I don’t trust your intuition.” “I never said the taxi driver was nice!” “Oh? So you knew he was a bad guy and you got into his car anyway?” Her fist balled up as she glared at me. “Why did you even come outside then?” “Excuse me? I live here! I can come outside if I like. You’re the one who disappeared for five hours.” “You’re the one that left me!” “Did I not say to call when you were done?” “No!” I paused as I realized I hadn’t. “Well, I meant to. Here, take some of these.” I outstretched my hand for her to take half her shit back. But she just stared. “Equality. I have half, you have half.” “You’re every girl’s dream, aren’t you?”

“I don’t need every girl, just one.” We’d been going back and forth but the moment I said it I saw her eyes widen. “Not you—” “You have a long lost love? Is that why your books always end tragically? For some reason it didn’t work out and so now your characters can never be happy? Is that why this new book is so hard for you to write?” Return to sender. I wanted to stamp it on her forehead and ship her off. “Give me your other hand,” I told her. As she lifted her other arm with a confused look on her face as I placed the rings of the bags over it causing her hand to drop under their weight. Reaching into my back pocket I then pulled out a key which I placed into one of the bags. “The guest house is around back. What you do with your day is your business. Just let me know. I don’t like people wandering around my house. Goodnight.” “What happened to equality?!” “This is equality. I came with nothing I’m leaving with nothing.”

“That’s justice, not equality.” “Huh…” I nodded slowly. “That’s true. Goodnight.” I turned back around and walked up the stairs to the house. “Oh, everyone is right! You are a massive jerk!” “And you’re my number one fan!” I replied slamming the door behind me and the moment I was alone everything I’d just done came flooding back to me. Why was I acting like such a child? Alfred. His name flashed through my mind. I was acting this way because if she’d gotten herself lost or hurt again he’d come here personally to talk me to death. That was the reason. Heading back to my room I took off my jacket and tossed it onto the bed and turned back to the painting. Kicking off my shoes I sat in front of it and picked up the paintbrush. Dipping the bristles into the gold paint, I touched it lightly to the canvas, creating a thin streak that became her golden nose ring. Her hazel brown eyes sparkled too. I don’t need every girl just one…Just one who

apparently looked differently each time, I thought as I glanced from the painting to my bedroom window, watching as Klutzarella herself heaved all the bags she’d bought onto the deck of the guest house before collapsing there for a moment. The winds blew strands of her hair around her face and she muttered what had to be a curse at me though I didn’t know why. She had her own private place overlooking the water completely rent free because I was just that nice a guy. If she didn’t like it she could leave. “Ah—” I hissed reaching up to my eye as the paintbrush dropped from my hand. No. Not again. “AH!” I slipped as I tried to make for my bed but fell just short of it. 1599 Ogrohayon (November) – Lahore, capital of Hindustan, the Mughal Empire. “My son! Another victory—” “WHERE IS SHE?!” I yelled to the court. I advanced and drew my sword as the guards rushed

towards me. “Salim!” My mother tried to hurry over to me however the guards reached me first and I slashed at their hands gashing one of them. In that moment it was as if time it slowed and they gasped, watching in horror as the blood fell upon white of the floor in the midst of the flower petals. “HAVE YOU NO SHAME?!” My father, the Emperor, rose from his seat at the head of the hall, and all rose with him. “YOU DARE SHED BLOOD IN THIS HALL? MY HALL?!” “Akbar!” My mother dropped to her knees in front him kneeling until her head touched the white titles. “Forgive my son! Our son! He has been hexed! He is blind! That is the only sense for this madness.” “Anarkali!” I yelled over her. “Where is she?” “Do you not see your mother pleads for your life?!” “I have no life without my wife!” “The one you call your wife put poison upon my table!” He walked down the steps, his hands behind his

back, until he stood beside my still kneeling mother. “I, your Emperor, gave NO blessing of such a wife!” “I needed no such blessing!” All among the Great Hall gasped while my mother sobbed. Not only had I broken the law and cursed myself by shedding blood upon sacred ground, but I’d forsaken the Emperor, my own father. “Lufti!” “Yes, Father!” My younger brother dropped to his knees. “From this day forth you shall be Salim, Prince of Hindustan, and MY HEIR!” He declared to all the world, and Lufti looked to me wide eyed as he continued. “Woman, rise and embrace your son. Salim rise and embrace your mother!” My mother would not rise. Lufti, rose and walked over to the woman who raised me, who loved me, who wept for me even now, and in my heart I was sorry, but I could not go to her. I could no longer be her son. “Guards, take this…this…man…to his wife!

Let them die together!” I threw my blade, the tip of which was stained red, along with the turban upon my head and all the jewels from my body upon the bed of flower petals. Outstretching my arms for the guards—men I’d trained with, men I’d went to war with—to take me. As they pulled me back gently, as if to not hurt me, I looked into my father’s green eyes, eyes that were glazed over with rage and pain. Lufti held my mother as she covered her mouth to silence her sobs. “GET HIM OUT!” My father bellowed for all to hear. They said nothing as they took me through the halls of the palace towards the pit of the forsaken. It was the one place I’d never seen in all of my life. Within the chamber there was nothing, the walls and ground were devoid of any color and life. There was nothing but the dark pit that had been dug into the ground. Even the sun was only allowed through a matching circle in the ceiling directly above her, a circle meant to scorch when the sun arose, and drown when it rained.

“How long has she been here?” I whispered as they released me at the edge of the pit. None of them answered. Instead, Rashad, my General…no Salim’s General said. “You’ve given up the world in exchange for a woman who is leaving it.” She was still alive. I held my chest. Turning back to him I smiled. “Rashad, returning from war, as I sat by the King’s side, Love came to me and asked: ‘Will you die for me? Will you walk through fire for me? Would you forsake the sweetest of wines and the greatest of feasts to never let go of my hand?’ And I said yes.” He took a step back from me. “Love was cruel to ask such of a Prince.” “Love did not care that I was a Prince. And so goodbye my friend. Protect Lufti as he is now the prince you once followed.” He gripped the staff tightly but was unable to push me into the pit. None of them seemed able to and so I stepped back. The sun blinded my eyes as I fell into the darkness towards her, the woman,

whose face was like pomegranate blossoms…my one and only love in this life and all lives.

7. MOURNING ESTHER SUNDAY “You can do this.” I reassured myself as I drew in a deep breath and knocked. No answer. I waited for two more minutes before knocking again. And it took another minute before I heard the doorknob jiggle. I expected him to open the door wider than a small crack, but it was wide enough for me to see half of his body. His right eye was bloodshot and it looked like he’d been crying. His hair was completely disheveled and he still wore the clothes he’d had on yesterday. “What is it?” he asked his voice deep and sore. “I wanted to talk about your next novel—” “It’s Sunday. The day of rest. Let me rest,” he replied as he closed the door in my face. I stood there stunned for a moment before I

turned around and walked back down the stairs. As I stood in the driveway I paused and looked back at his house. “Was he hungover?” But I hadn’t smelled any alcohol on him. Maybe he was still feeling ill? “I guess I’ll go back into town.” I stuck my hands into the new pair of jeans I’d bought and headed down the road. But with every few paces behind me I felt like turning back and checking on him. He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine. Right? MONDAY KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! “If you don’t answer I’m going to think you’re dead!” I yelled from the other side of the door. “I’ll end up calling the Sheriff and—” “Shut up please.” I heard a voice from his side of the door. I put my hand on it. “Are you okay?” “I would be if you stopped yelling.”

“I’ve been out here for an hour and called nine times!” “Esther.” He sighed. He cracked the door an even smaller distance than he had the day before. I could only see his face and it was worse. He was pale, too pale, and his eyes, they weren’t bloodshot anymore but now he had dark circles around them. “You look—” “I forgot to tell you, I don’t work on Mondays either.” He tried to give me his usual smirk but it fell flat and I was stunned that when he closed the door I didn’t realize he was lying faster. “Malachi!” “Go away!” My temple throbbed and I could feel a headache coming on. Inhaling deeply, I stood up straighter. “It’s okay, Esther,” I said to myself. “He’s sick. Give him space. He can take care of himself.” But he barely had anything in his fridge during his birthday, other than two steaks, some ham, and some bread. What in the world was he eating now? Was he even eating? The better question was, was

he sleeping? He looked like he hadn’t had a good night’s rest since…since I’d gotten here if not longer. Taking out my phone I texted Li-Mei. Operation the Great Malachi Novel—day two: Fail. She texted back immediately and I responded while making my way downstairs. First, we need a new name for this operation. Second, it’s day four. The day you got there and his birthday counts. Third, seriously what is up with this guy? Is it part of his artistic process or something? No…I don’t know. I replied. But I wasn’t giving up. If I had to nurse him back to health so that he could write then that’s what I would do. TUESDAY I walked up the stairs to his house holding the grocery bags from Nevis’s Grocery and Liquor Store. I was fully prepared to drop it next to the door and knock, but as I approached I saw that his door was cracked open and creepily swaying back and forth on its hinges.

“Malachi?” I called out but got no reply. Leaning closer I called out once more. “Malachi? You home?” Silence. Sucking up my fear, I pushed the door slightly and peeked in. Seeing no sign of him, I finally let myself in. It was hard to believe I’d cleaned the place on Saturday. Notebook paper was everywhere, along with mugs—not one or two, but at least four different mugs, just laying all over the living room. Two of them were shattered. The handle of one was sitting in a pile of its own broken body on the ground. The couch was moved oddly, the lamp that had previously resided on the coffee table was now on the ground with its lightbulb shattered as well. “Malachi?” I called again as I placed the groceries on the couch. I turned towards the stairs but bent down to pick up a few of the papers from ground. Ink. No, it was paint. Black paint. There were Arabic words, the calligraphy was frantic, jarring,

with paint spatters all over it. Father. The first word read, on the next paper: Forgive. Followed by: Pain. Then Anarkali which was a name. My Arabic wasn’t the best but I believe it meant red blossoming. The longest phrase was written in red. Love asked and I said yes. I gathered the papers together before making my way up to his room. The door was cracked open as well, and there, lying on his bed in nothing but his jeans, I found him staring blankly at something in the room. I saw that he’d abandoned the mugs, opting instead to bring the whole coffee pot to his room. Even that was empty, except for the smallest brown liquid within it. “Malachi?” I whispered as I stepped inside and tried to get him to look at me. But he remained silent as tears fell from his eyes without his control. Now that I was further into the room I turned and followed his gaze. And there, leaning against a few other blank canvases, was an Indian woman with long dark brown hair, dressed in green and gold traditional clothes. In the corner of the painting I saw the date written in

white—1599. I lifted the papers in my hand and motioned at her. “Anarkali?” I asked turning to him. “Is she Anarkali?” He blinked slowly and his dazed blue eyes looked to me, like he couldn’t focus on me and was instead looking right through me. “I killed her,” he whispered. “I killed her to spare her the pain…I shouldn’t have! I should have held on! He would have forgiven us! He was going to forgive us! I’m sure he was. We could have stopped them! We could have lived happily ever after but I killed her! I KILLED HER!” “Malachi!” I dropped the papers and rushed to his side as he coughed and rolled himself into a ball. “No. Please. No!” He begged rocking back and forth with his head in his hands. “What do I do? What’s wrong?!” I yelled touching his arm but he just shook and rolled over, with his back to me. He cried out one final time before he slipped into unconsciousness. “Malachi!” He was ice cold and shivering as though he

were naked in the middle of the North Pole. Unable to pull the blankets from under him, I wrapped him up as best as I could but he still wouldn’t stop shaking so I laid next to him and held him as tightly as I could. “You’re going to be okay,” I whispered at his back. “You’re going to be okay. It’s only in your head. You’re going to be okay.” I didn’t realize I was crying until my vision blurred. I held on and didn’t dare let go repeating that he’d be okay over and over while praying that he would be. *** “Grandpa, he’s not well!” “Esther—” “No! Don’t Esther me, Grandpa! Don’t talk to me like I’m overacting! For the last five hours, I’ve watched as he whimpered in pain, confessed to a murder that happened over four hundred years ago and begged for death twice. He thinks he’s the former prince of the Mughal Empire!” This was

insane! Malachi was not sane, he needed medical treatment not to be writing books! “He thinks he is because he is.” I froze. The pot of soup I was boiling bubbled up as I left it. My mind was trying to comprehend the madness coming out of my grandfather. “I’m sorry, the reception is a little spotty…what did you just say?” “Esther, Malachi isn’t insane.” “He’s just over four hundred years old?” Was I surrounded by lunatics? “I love paranormal fiction as much as the next person but this is going too far. What is he then? A vampire? A coffee-addicted, meat-loving, fang-less, four hundred and eighteenyear-old Caucasian vampire who was once a prince in India? That’s the story you’re trying to sell me on?” “I need you to be open-minded when I tell you this.” “Sure!” I turned off the stove and moved the pot to another burner. “I’m open, please go on I’ll try not to turn into a bat and fly away.” “Are you done?”

I kept silent so he could talk though a part of me wondered if there was a two-for-one deal at the mental hospital. “Now that you’re silent I don’t know how to explain this to you.” “Grandpa! I’m already on edge, you cannot make jokes—” “I’m not joking. Malachi is the former prince of the Mughal Empire.” He repeated and it sounded no more believable than it did a minute ago. “I have no words.” In fact my brain wanted to kick open my skull and make an escape because apparently rational thought was no longer needed. “It was hard for me to believe too.” He coughed once and I heard what sounded like a beep but he spoke a little louder. “Esther, Malachi isn’t just the prince of the Mughal Empire. He was once Romeo Montague to Juliet, Obinna the Great to Adaeze, Lancelot to Guinevere, Wei Xiao to Princess Changping—” “Grandpa.” I smiled only because I was so sure he was messing with me. “You’re trying to tell me, that Malachi Lord, the romance novelist, is the

reincarnation of all of the most tragic and iconic heroes in all of history?” “Yes.” Came the reply. But not from Grandpa. I turned to see the very man…the tragic hero himself, leaning against the railing of the stairs. “Can I have some of that?” He nodded to the pot. “He’ll explain.” “Grandpa!” But he was gone leaving me with the man he’d just told me had lived five different times. Holding onto his side, he slumped towards me—no—towards the pot of food, and I stepped aside as I held the phone to my chest staring blankly at him as he took the spoon I’d been using to stir and filled the bowl until it was just barely overflowing. Putting the pot down, he lifted the bowl to his lips and drank deeply until there was nothing left but the rice, beef, and carrots. Then he turned to me, the circles around his eyes were still there but they weren’t as dark as they’d been before. “Do you mind if I finish this?” He pointed to the pot. Without saying a word I nodded that he could

go ahead. And he did. He poured the rest into the bowl, grabbed a spoon and slowly sat on the floor, this time using the spoon to feed himself. “Is it okay?” “It’s horrible but I’m hungry,” he replied stuffing his face again. “Hey! You didn’t have to eat it you jerk! Put it back if it’s so horrible.” He snickered finally looking up from the bowl. “How are you going to make me when you’re too scared to move?” “I’m not scared.” “You circled around me slowly as if I were a monster you were trying to escape from.” “Sorry—” “I’m not hurt. I’m actually relieved you have the sense to be wary of men like me.” He stuck another bite into his mouth. “I’m not sure if you’re praising or insulting me,” I replied as I slowly sat down opposite him. “Both. Neither. I’m not sure either,” he stated as he continued eating. I sat in silence until he finished. He took a deep

breath and said, “I don’t know how to explain… Alfred is the only one who I’ve ever told and he didn’t need much proof.” “Shame on him.” I was going to need proof and whole lot of it. “My grandfather is a science-fiction and thriller type man. Me? I’m a diehard romantic. So you can’t just tell me you were once Romeo Montague, the Romeo of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and just get an oh-that-sounds-legit pass from me.” “I was not Romeo Montague, the Romeo of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. William took liberties with our story. So did Arthur Brooke and before them both, Masuccio Salernitano. I was Romeo Montecchi of Verona and Juliet wasn’t Juliet but Giulietta Capuleti in 1378. We did not get married but swore to. I tried to escape to Egypt but was told that Giulietta needed to see me at the church we promised ourselves at. I arrived only to be knifed. Giulietta did not kill herself but died of a heart attack when she came to church to try and warn me that it was a setup. Also, there was never a Rosaline, why William added her I will never

understand.” I had to put my hand on my head because it felt like the world was spinning. Where was I supposed to start with that? From the least important—that being the fact he’d just called one of the greatest writers of all time William as if he’d known him personally. Or should I start from the most important—that he’d just completely ruined the story for me! “You…this… what…oh my god I don’t know who’s crazy anymore.” I threw my hands up. “No that’s a lie. I know I’m not crazy. Do you hear yourself?” He sighed as he stood and moved towards the sink. Turning on the faucet he set his bowl down and reached for the pot too. It was only when I started to get up from the floor that he spoke again. “I can’t make you believe me. In all honesty, I wish Alfred hadn’t told you. Do you think I want to be like this?” He paused as he squeezed the sponge tightly. “Do you know how painful it is to remember not only how you yourself died, but how the person you loved died?”

I said nothing and he continued to scrub the bowl harder. “Nine hundred and ninety-nine times, that is how many times I have felt myself die, have watched her die. And some days I can’t breathe, I can’t eat, and I fear that if I close my eyes I will fall into another memory and watch helplessly as everything falls apart! I’m tired! I am tired of living like this! I wish I were insane, I swear to you that I do because at least there would be some type of drug that could spare me this agony! Instead, I have coffee to keep me up at night! NINE HUNDRED AND NINETY-NINE TIMES I have loved her and it has only led to our death. So screw it! Screw love. Screw romance! I do not want it! I’ll die alone in the woods before I go back to that again!” The bowl shattered as he flung it into the sink. He gripped the edge of the counter and hung his head. Slowly I moved closer and placed my hands over his. “I believe you and it’s…sad,” I whispered. He glanced up at me. “It’s worse than sad, it’s a nightmare. I don’t know why we are being punished like this—”

He gripped his head again. “Another…memory?” I asked holding on to him quickly. “I’m going to lie down,” he whispered and pulled himself away from me. I watched as he walked, broken, tired, and every bit miserable, back to the stairs. He climbed up one at a time as if the weight of the world were trying to pull him back down. When he was gone, I turned to the broken bowl in the sink. “I told you he was romantic,” I whispered as I carefully picked up the pieces. Nine hundred and ninety-nine times he’d loved the same woman, the only woman in the world for him, his soulmate. It wasn’t sad because they died. It was sad because he didn’t seem to realize that she loved him back, all nine hundred and ninety-nine times, she’d loved him even though she knew it would kill them both and now he’d decided to reject her. That was the sad part. Maybe they will find themselves again? Wait, do I really, truly believe this? “Shit.” I looked down to see that I’d cut my

finger on a shard of the broken bowl. Sticking my finger into my mouth, I quickly threw the broken bits into the trash and finished cleaning up. It didn’t matter if I believed it. He believed it and he was mourning because of it.

8. THE LAND OF THE LIVING MALACHI BEEP… BEEP… BEEP… “What in the—” “It’s 8 a.m.” “Ah!” I hissed as the sun assaulted my eyes, forcing me to roll over. “Go away…” My voice trailed off as the smell of scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, French toast, and best of all, coffee, filled my nose. Opening my eyes I saw the food sitting on a tray right beside my face. I was so mesmerized by it that I didn’t even notice her until she put a blue origami bear right next to the cutlery set she’d not only laid out but folded into a napkin. “Sit up and eat before it gets cold,” she ordered as she rose from her place in front of the tray and I saw her dark green leg warmers with the words

Lieber Falls written down the sides of them in white disappear into my bathroom. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked as I sat up and I was dismayed to find that it looked nothing like my bedroom. It was immaculate. I didn’t think wood could shine and yet the floors of my bedroom were so perfect I was sure I could see my reflection. I glanced over to the side— “Where are my paintings?!” She popped her head back out my bathroom. “In the art room.” “Art room? What art room?” “The empty room next to the guest room. I also unpacked the rest of the boxes there.” There was an attic…wait, no. “You can’t just move my things—” “And you can’t just die.” She snapped grabbing the trash from my bathroom and heading towards the door. “You are alive. You might want to die. You might feel like you’re dying but you, Malachi Lord, are alive. And you are my responsibility. I didn’t come here for a vacation. I came here because I promised my grandfather that I’d help

you produce your best work yet. However, in the week I’ve been here you haven’t written a single thing. You don’t even know what day it is unless I tell you.” “I managed to write well enough and live perfectly fine—” “What day is it?” she asked, her brown eyes staring at me. Her hair was pulled back into a thick curly ponytail. “I don’t need to answer to you. This is my house—” “Nope.” She pulled out her phone and read. “Property #283, Lieber Falls, Montana. Ownership: Penohxi Publishing House. Renter: Malachi Lord. I’m sending you the contract you obviously didn’t read.” I heard my phone vibrate on the ground but didn’t look at it as she continued with her commands. “You do not own this home. My grandfather, the man who has looked out for you since you were a child, owns this home. So I won’t let you treat it as badly as you treat yourself. The books you write,

are also owned by Penohxi Publishing House, and maybe you don’t care about your work. But I care. Millions of people care. And we promised them that you would have a new book next year. I confirmed it online. So if need to spoon-feed you, I will. If I need to carry you on my back, I will. Not for you. But for my Grandpa, and for all the women I’ve become friends with who are waiting on you. I’m not going to let them down!” As she spoke her eyes teared up and I felt the urge to back away from her. She wiped her eyes with the arm of her maroon sweater. “What are you looking at? Eat! Join the land of the living. I had to ride into town for that breakfast.” “You rode my bike?!” “No. I bought a bicycle while you were trying to become one with your bed!” She hollered back. “And thanks for being grateful. I’m taking out the trash!” She muttered something in a language I didn’t understand as she exited. I stood there stunned for a moment before I slowly sank back into the middle

of my bed. Reaching for the plate I took a bite of the bacon. “Damn it.” It was good…really good. I stuffed my face like a savage, eating the French toast in two bites before reaching for the fork before I once again noticed the blue watercolor origami bear. Open me. Carefully I opened it reading her ironically graceful handwriting in the center of the paper. “Gavin's Law: Live to start. Start to live.” ― Richie Norton.” I read the quote before reading her instructions under his name. “Step One: Eat. Step Two: Shave and shower, please. Step Three: Dress comfortably for a walk.” Subconsciously I reached up and touched the growth of hair that had sprouted on my cheek. Dropping the paper, I picked up my fork and ate quickly…a habit I couldn’t break apparently. Why? I wasn’t sure. But reaching for the coffee I drank it like I normally did but nearly gagged. “What in the—” “It’s decaf.” She walked back into my room like she owned the place…well, apparently she

thought she did, though I’m sure Alfred probably didn’t intend for her to use that fact over me. Since I could pick up and move at any time Alfred rented places out for me so there wouldn’t be a paper trail in case I really wanted to disappear. “It’s not coffee if it’s decaf.” “Coffee is not good for you.” “Living isn’t good for me.” She made a face at me. “That because you’re living wrong.” “Really? And what makes you an expert at living—” “I’ve stepped outside.” She sat in front of me and placed a water bottle on the tray. “You don’t get to be an asshole because you’re in pain. Everyone has been or is in some pain—” “Not like this. You have no idea—” “My mother tried to kill me when I five,” she blurted out and I froze as she reached onto my plate and stole a piece of toast from me. “I don’t remember it much, I’ve blocked it out. I just remember her telling me it was bath time, and when I got in she held me under the water.”

“I…” I wasn’t sure what to say to that. She nodded slowly as she chewed then swallowed. “You know how…well you probably don’t know, but the children of big time Hollywood people…some of them don’t really do well when they grow up. Some say it’s the pressure, others say it was all the money and no supervision. Drugs, drinking, partying…one day when she was seventeen she was raped. She didn’t know by whom or how many. My grandfather was heartbroken and devoted his time to try and help her. He tried to find the men but never did, and when she found out about me she wanted an abortion. She asked for money for the procedure but instead she used it to get high. She used me to get money out of my grandfather before I was even born.” She inhaled deeply and relaxed again. “I think she thought she could always just get rid of me but waited too long. When she gave birth she left me on top of my Grandpa’s old Mercedes…right on top of the snow. My Grandfather named me Esther —the brightest star he’d ever seen—and relocated

to New York, becoming my mom, my dad, and my grandfather. “When I was five, my mother returned, she was clean, she really, really tried to love me, but she couldn’t heal, she resented me and she tried to kill me. My grandpa kicked her out and I haven’t seen her since. But I love her. I forgive her. And I hope she’s alright wherever she is…because I understand that my pain should not blind me from other people’s pain. You’re in pain, Malachi, but you aren’t the only person on this planet suffering. No matter how many times it’s happened, you don’t get to say that no one hurts like you. That isn’t fair. Anyway, I’ll wait downstairs for you to get ready.” Reaching to take another piece of my toast I grabbed her arm. “If our pain is equal why should I have to give up my food?” She pouted and I pouted back mocking her which caused her to laugh. “Fine, keep the toast. Tomorrow I’m getting double though.” “Tomorrow?” I looked up at her. She stretched her back out and nodded. “Did you finish the book?”

“Has anyone told you that you’re…” I paused. “Oh….” She grinned and pointed at me. “You were going to call me annoying but you remembered my past and stopped yourself, right? Ah! So you do have a heart!” Rising I took off my sweat pants. “Are you going to stay and watch too?” She waved me off. “I’m going, I’m going. Not that you’d have any effect on me anyway.” “Excuse me?” “I like my men a little more…fit…and, you know, not currently in a perpetual epic love saga with some other mystery woman. “She isn’t a mystery. She’s your co-worker,” I said as I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. “No bloody way! Who is it, Malachi?” “Sorry I can’t hear you, a dictatorial woman is commanding that I eat, shave and shower.” “Don’t forget to go for a walk.” “Go away, Esther!” I hollered at the door rolling my eyes even though she couldn’t see me. “If you think I’m letting this go you don’t know

me!” she yelled back. I didn’t know her. Though her personality reminded me of Alfred. “Give, keep giving, be dedicated even when you don’t have to,” I muttered to myself as I examined the brand new razor and toothbrush she’d bought and placed out on top of a brand new, deep green towel set. Both of them were…the only two people in my contact list. They were the only two who knew my secret…our secret.

ESTHER “Athena? Piper? Mei-Ling?” “For the last time, I am not telling you!” he yelled at me as we walked. Ignoring him I tried to remember the names of my female co-workers…snapping my fingers I turned back to him. “Chioma, from sales.” He sighed. “Yes. Chioma, from sales. That’s

her. My long lost love.” “It’s no fun when you give up.” I frowned as I stuck my hands into my vest pocket and inhaled the cool, fresh air. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re immature?” “Yep.” I paused turning back to him. “I tried growing up but no one told me how terrible it would be so I decided to stop aging after my twenty-third birthday.” I laughed as I hopped over the fallen moss covered tree and dusted off my hands. He hopped over it too though he did it more easily and gracefully than me which was kind of irritating. I mean yesterday he was hunched over in pain and now here he was leaping over things better than me. “How exactly do you plan to do that?” he asked as he bent down to tie my boots while I stood there in shock. “That’s been annoying me for the last ten minutes.” “Thank you…” “So your plan is to stay in your twenties?”

I grinned and pointed at him. “What?” “You’ve lived nine hundred and ninety-nine times, right? Any chance you came across the fountain of youth in any of them?” He’d looked genuinely interested in my plan until I said it aloud, it was then that he turned away from me and continued walking. “You’re a lunatic.” “I’m a lunatic?” He couldn’t be serious. “You are the one who claims to be living—” “Claims? And here I thought you believed! You’re all talk, Ms. Noëlle.” I wanted to kick him in the back of his knees but I glared at the back of his head instead, before I realized something. “You don’t even know where we’re going, so why are you leading me?” I rushed to keep up with his pace but he stopped so suddenly that I nearly ran into him. Turning slightly, his blue eyes narrowed at me. “I thought we were just walking so you could talk my ears off.” “Nope we are taking a shortcut, come on.” I

moved off the path and pushed the branches to the left and right of me carefully, while Mr. Giant fumbled through. “You just got here, how do you have shortcuts…?” His voice trailed off as he stood at the edge of the forest clearing, and there, under the protection of the towering green trees, was a magenta lake of flowers that was so thick you couldn’t see a single gap between them and so deep that they grew to my knees. It didn’t matter the season, or even the weather, the magenta flowers which carpeted the ground stood high, bright, and proud. “Esther?” Upon hearing my name, I looked up with a smile towards the old couple who were standing on the other side of the lake of flowers. “Mrs. Yamauchi!” I waved, watching as she turned and pushed her husband’s wheelchair towards the only break in the lake, a path she’d created so that she could take her husband in whenever she could. Turning to Malachi, who was now looking at them confused, I grabbed his arm

and pulled him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Without a word he allowed me to drag him over. I prayed he wasn’t about to collapse again. Please…he needed this more than anyone. The path Mrs. Yamauchi had created through the flowers only ran from her side of the field towards the center, meaning that Malachi and I had to walk through the knee-high magenta flowers, sadly damaging and messing up the field as we did. Mr. Yamauchi sat quietly as she pushed him forward. His white face was wrinkled as much as hers, though he wore a few more age spots on his face and hands, which he kept folded in his lap. His pinstriped brown golf cap covered his silver-gray hair. Mrs. Yamauchi’s matching pair was on her head too, her salt and pepper hair pulled into a bun. Letting go of Malachi I clasped my hands together as I bowed in greeting. “Ohayō!” “Ohayō!” Mrs. Yamauchi laughed as she moved around her husband’s chair to give me a hug. She broke away from me after a few seconds to look at Malachi. “And hello to you, handsome.” I panicked hoping he wouldn’t be his normal

rude self, but to my surprise he clasped his hands like I did and bowed. “Ohayō gozaimasu.” He knows Japanese? Most people I’d met who didn’t know the language either repeated what I said or said ‘Konnichiwa,’ even though that was more for saying good evening. Ohayō or Ohayō gozaimasu was for greeting people in the morning. She greeted him back, smiling kindly as she brought her husband closer towards us. “Malachi Lord, meet Kikuko and Kosuke Yamauchi, future legends and the oldest couple of Lieber Falls.” “Who are you calling old? Oshaberi.” Malachi snickered and I turned to glare at the traitor as he pretended to think it over. “Oshaberi? A chatterbox? It fits.” “No one asked you.” “Sorry, Oshaberi.” He smirked as he looked at them both. “It’s a pleasure to meet the future legends and sweetest couple of Lieber Falls.” “I like you.” She came over and hugged him which made Malachi stand as stiff as a board. Crouching down beside Mr. Yamauchi I gently

placed my brown hands over his wrinkled ones telling him in English, “I need back up. They will gang up on me if you don’t come help.” He turned to face me, his black eyes were like dark caves. I could look in but I couldn’t see in. “Do I know you?” He spoke for the first time since we’d all met. But then he glanced up at Kikuko and Malachi asking again. “Do I know you all?” Kikuko squeezed his shoulder and said, “Yes. I know you. You know me too. Just wait, it will come back to you.” He returned his gaze once more to the flowers, and Kikuko, who was not the least bit phased, pulled out a thick, dark colored blanket from the backpack that hung off the chair. “I’ll—” Malachi took it from her. “Where do you want me to put it?” “Right here is fine, thank you.” With a nod, he carefully put it down, ensuring that there wasn’t even a wrinkle...because apparently he could think of other people. It was

apparently only me who didn’t matter. “Esther?” “Yes?” I looked back to her as she held out bento lunchbox for me. I stared at the clear containers. “No, you didn’t—” “Chopsticks or a fork?” She lifted them both, purposely cutting me off which meant she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Chopsticks please.” I gave in to accepting them and the bottle of water she handed me. “I hope you’re hungry, Malachi.” “Starving actually.” He walked towards her and accepted the lunchbox and chopsticks. “Esther, how can you let him starve?” Kikuko frowned at him as she gave him a bottle of water as well. My mouth dropped open. “What? I’m not his…” I trailed off and she noticed him snickering at me. “Nurse? Maid?” she asked, as she put a napkin around Mr. Yamauchi’s neck, and gave him a spoon along with his food. “I’m not his wife. Yet still I somehow ended up

making him breakfast this morning.” “Somehow?” Malachi took off his shoes and left them at the edge of the blanket before he sat down. Which I would have given him credit for if he wasn’t currently picking on me. “So you don’t remember that no one asked you to barge into my room, force me out of bed and demand I eat this morning?” “I was asked. I was asked by my grandfather, remember? Can you believe it? Girls my age are getting giant teddy bears and twenty dozen roses. Me? I’m trying to keep a thirty-year-old man alive. Aigoo.” I sighed tiredly. “Thirty,” Mr. Yamauchi whispered and I immediately stopped talking to hear him. “Good age. Thirty. Standing on the cliff.” He nodded to himself as he spooned a tiny rice ball into his mouth whilst looking out at the flowers. “I think I’ve been here before.” Kikuko smiled as she took off her shoes, and sat on the blanket by his legs as he went back into his mental haze. I followed suit and removed my shoes and sat down as well. I wanted to ask her

something but Malachi cut me off. “Why is thirty a good age if it’s on a cliff?” Kikuko took a deep breath and turned to me. “Can I tell him now?” “Please do.” “I’m guessing based on the four lunches for the four of us that this meeting isn’t a happenstance?” Malachi asked looking between us. “So what do you need to tell me?” Kikuko’s black eyes looked back at him. “Why Kosuke and I are the future legends of this town.” Giving her my full attention I eagerly waited for her to start. After all, when else would I get to see a real master rakugo? Long before theater, films, and even novels, there was rakugo—the art of storytelling. Everyone could tell a story, but very few people could become one. Rakugos could act the part of dozens of characters making you believe that each and every one was a separate individual contained in one being. Not anyone…but Kikuko Yamauchi.

9. THE COMING LEGEND OF KOSUKE & KIKUKO YAMAUCHI MALACHI She sat on her knees and placed a small paper fan in front of her. We quietly waited, Esther and me, watching as she took off her hat, revealing her hair which was sliver and black, and placed it behind herself. When she looked up at us both she smiled, and when Kikuko smiled it spread across her entire face. Her eyes became small, and due to her age, she had wrinkles around her mouth but she wore them proudly. “Forgive me, it’s been so long since I did this.” She spoke softly as she took a deep breath, picked up her fan and started. “The girl was six and did not understand the fear around her…” She began squeezing the fan as if she were going to snap it in two. “Why her

mother walked quickly, even in the daytime, clenching her hand, and yes her whole hand because the girl was small, the smallest of the Sato children, and as the only girl, her mother held her as if she feared they would never touch again.” She opened her fan and slightly fanned herself. Joyfully adding “A thought, a possibility, a chance that had never once crossed the little girl’s mind because she didn’t know America, even though that was where she was born, that was where she was raised, and where she was. America wasn’t just a place or a country, it was her. The land of the free and home of the brave was her. So she walked freely to her tutor’s home on the corner of Maple and Fifth Bank. She even stayed late some days, and because she was brave she didn’t fear the dark.” All of sudden she snapped the fan close gripping it with both hands. Her smile dropped and her eyes seemed dull now as her voice became stiff but not emotionless. Instead, it was filled with a mixture of confusion, pain, and sorrow. “She didn’t fear the dark so the monsters did not come in the dark. They didn’t come with claws,

or razor-sharp teeth, or beady red eyes. Because they were not monsters, they were people. And though they wielded no claws, they still held a weapon in their hands—paper. Important paper. The paper told the small girl that she wasn’t American, she was Japanese and because of that she could no longer walk freely, and her father told her to never show the bravery in her heart because it would be mistaken for treason. “The small girl still did not understand, but followed the rest of her kind, she now had a kind and separated herself from the other kind, the kind that took them away from their house on Fifth Bank to their new home at Camp Bella Vista— called so because there were Italians there too. The Italians told the girl what her parents and siblings didn’t want to tell her; that America was at war, a world war, and they were fighting a particular kind. So they couldn’t be that kind anymore. Camp Bella Vista wasn’t a camp but a prison with a beautiful view. “The girl cried because she didn’t understand, she was both kinds, she wanted to be good for both

kinds, but that was treason, and so every day, out by the fence, she cried even as the snow started to bury her those first weeks in March.” She hunched over as her body shivered and the more I looked at her, the less she seemed to be there until I blinked and I was looking at the small girl sitting in the snow by a fence sobbing so badly her breathing was nothing more than gasps, and when she managed to get enough air into her lungs, she cried even more.

March 1942 - Camp Bella Vista, Montana. “How can you be crying?” A young boy towered over her. His black hair was wet with snow and his white ears were slowly turning bright red from the cold. The girl looked up at him and wiped her face. “I’m sad!” “I know, but how can you have any tears left?” he asked curiously as he stuck his round face directly in front of hers.

“What?” She pulled her head back and stared at him. He kept staring at her. “You cried here yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and the day before that. How do you have tears left?” “I drank the ocean! Leave me alone!” She pushed him away and stood up from her seat of snow as she marched angrily to another part of the barbed-wire fence. “You have snow on your butt!” he yelled after her. She jumped as if she’d been kicked and spun around to glare at him while simultaneously putting her hands behind her back. The boy laughed at her. “Bye, crybaby!” “I’m not a crybaby!” “Yes, you are!” “No, I’m not!” “Hey!” The both jumped at the sound of the officer’s voice. His black boots crunched the snow under it as he walked forward, his brown rifle resting on the shoulder of his olive brown uniform jacket. The boy ran over to the girl and took her

hand. “Sorry!” he said quickly for the both them. The officer looked them over. “Where are your parents? Why are you both walking around back here?” “Because we want to,” the girl muttered and the boy stood in front of her. “Because we wanted to see the deer.” He pointed through the fence, and even though the tree line was still a bit far, there was, in fact, a deer there. “We wanted it to come closer but she kept crying because she’s cold. So I’m going to take her home now.” He waited for the guard to nod them off before he took her hand and ran. He ran with her as fast as their small legs could take them but before they could get to the safety of the camp a rifle shot rang out behind them. He pushed her down thinking that it was them that the officer was shooting at, but as he looked over his shoulder he saw the guard and a few others heading towards the deer. Taking a deep breath he rose to his feet and smacked the girl on the back of her head.

“Are you crazy?!” “Ouch!” She yelled back at him. “Don’t talk back to them.” “Why?” “Why?” The boy looked at her like he didn’t even know where to begin and so she kept talking. “Why do I have to stop talking? Why do I have to be here? Why—” “Because life isn’t fair,” he told her as he crossed his arms in an attempt to make himself seem older than he was, but the feat was too daunting and so he sighed as he lowered his arms and scratched the back of his head. “That’s what my father says, he fought the first time the world was at war and he always says war isn’t fair to anyone, so it’s not fair that we’re here. But we can’t go around causing trouble because it isn’t fair that what we do will hurt someone else too. Your dad is sick, right? If you make them angry what if they don’t let the doctor see him?” She stopped moving as if he’d just shattered what little pride she’d had left. “You have to be strong for your father,

Kikuko,” he said as he leaned over and dusted the snow off her. “Everyone calls me Daisy now.” She frowned and then realized. “How do you know my name?” The boy grinned. “Your brother, Tsutomu, told me he had a baby sister named Kikuko who never plays with us, but that we could find you if we followed the crying.” “I’m not a crybaby!” The girl stomped her foot. He nodded and then stuck out his hand. “Kosuke Yamauchi.” She didn’t want to shake his hand so instead she turned around and marched away. “Bye, Daisy—” “Not Daisy, Kikuko!” she yelled. “My mom gave me that name.” He had said goodbye but was instead walking towards her. “Where is your mom?” The girl looked up in the sky. “In heaven with my little sister. My brother said the trip was bad for her.” “I’m sorry, Kikuko, but…” “What?”

“Can we go inside now? It’s cold!” he pleaded as he grabbed her hand and led her towards one of the housing barracks. *** And just like that, I was looking at Kikuko as she held her hand out while being led by the boy to the housing barracks. Slowly her hand dropped back into her lap and she partially opened the paper fan and fanned her face. “And that was how the famous duo, who were known by all in Prison Bella Vista, met. They were too young and innocent to realize that they were in love with each other. The two bonded over the common goal of making life just a little bit better and they argued over how to do that. They argued about everything. If Kosuke said it was going to snow, Kikuko said it was going to be the hottest day of the year just to make him angry…but it never did, which made her angry instead. “The younger kids thought it was hilarious to watch and soon their older siblings would watch,

and the sound of children’s laughter would make the grandparents come, and the sound of the elders’ laughter brought the adults. With the adults came the guards. And before Kosuke and Kikuko could run out of material, they were given ideas by others and taught by the elders the craft of story-telling. And on the day of their first real rakugo performance—which could have been mistaken for a wedding because of how many people were laughing— “The skies opened up and the rain came pouring down and Kikuko looked to Kosuke and teasingly he asked, “Will you stand over me and be my umbrella?” *** I hadn’t really noticed her since this story began. But when Esther sat up and leaned in eagerly to hear her reply, I couldn’t help but shake my head. *** “Go in the rain.” Kikuko went on speaking as if she

were Kosuke. Her voice was deeper now than when she’d narrated his voice when they were kids. “Kikuko told him he was too serious and that she was just joking but when she stepped out into the slush of mud and melting snow the rain didn’t touch her. When she looked up over her head a jacket appeared and Kosuke said to her ‘run.’ And so they ran towards the Chief Officer’s office because the guards had created a roofed platform for them to do their shows. Kikuko thought it was because they enjoyed the show but Kosuke knew they did it because it made us easier for them to watch. With everyone in one place they didn’t have much work to do. He didn’t tell Kikuko this nor did he allow this fact to deter their mission—to make everyone’s life a little bit happy just for a while. And so, while they were performing, while everyone’s eyes were on them, one snuck away, one who’d come as a boy and was now at the cusp of adulthood. We couldn’t take away his frustration, anger, or pain with laughter. Thinking none of the guards were watching he sought to escape prison Bella Vista. He made it twenty paces

before….” She balanced the fan on her finger and turned her hands into a riffle as she scoped from her right until she was pointing the gun at me. “BANG!” She hollered and immediately her hands dropped sending the fan onto the ground in front of her. Flinching, she turned her head to the field, her eyes glazed over as we sat in silence. “Danny. They killed Danny.” She wasn’t the one who spoke. In fact, she broke out of her role and turned to her husband who now sat up with his eyes wide open. He blinked a few times as he looked around and finally back at her. His eyes were no longer as lifeless as they were a moment ago. “You awake now?” She put her hand on his knee and he smiled and nodded at her as he placed his wrinkled hand over hers and looked back towards us. “How are you, Oshaberi?” “Not you too, Mr. Yamauchi. Why does everyone pick on me?” Esther groaned as she picked up her ignored lunch and popped a rice ball

into her mouth. He snickered at her before his old eyes shifted to me. “And you are?” “Malachi Lord desu.” He laughed and looked to Kikuko who nodded as if she knew what he was thinking. Maybe she did. Turning to me he leaned forward and said in English, “Do you know that the man who killed my brother, Danny, looked just like you.” Kikuko smacked his leg but he grinned and ignored him. “Same blue eyes, dark hair, all the girls thought he was handsome too even though he hated us Japs. And now you sit here speaking in Japanese. Can you believe Kiku? A black girl and white man can both speak better Japanese better than I do. Ain’t the world something?” Kikuko sighed and rolled her eyes as she turned to Esther. “The reason why he calls you Oshaberi is to deflect the name from himself, excuse him.” “Aye.” He frowned and it was hard to believe that this man, this lively, animated old man, was the same man who’d been sitting almost lifeless in his wheelchair before.

“What?” Kikuko challenged him as she lifted her head not even fazed by his drastic personality shift. “Umm…” Esther swallowed her food before continuing. “I don’t mean to be rude but you left us on a cliffhanger here!” “Do you have strong arms?” Mr. Yamauchi joked, and both Esther and Kikuko groaned. He ignored the both of them and said, “Then you can hang in there.” Trying to fight the laughter I reached for the water but he extended his arms above himself as if he were hanging on to the ledge of a cliff and said, “Get it? Hang in there? The cliffhanger?” Coughing against the top of the water bottle I laughed as I placed the back of my hand over my lips. “Ahh…there we go.” He nodded to me. “You’re far too young to be so serious.” “He’s had a hard life.” Esther slipped in there before eating another rice ball...because apparently if she wasn’t eating she’d tell everyone under the sun my secret…as if it were no big deal.

“Hmmm…” Mr. Yamauchi frowned at me and as he leaned back against the chair and stretched his legs, his knees cracked, but that didn’t stop him from holding on to the sides to lift himself up. Esther moved to help him but Kikuko shook her head and we watched as he lowered himself to sit on his knees next to her. Reaching up, he took off his hat revealing his thick silver-white hair. Next, he pushed up his sleeves revealing the old scars all over his arms and looked directly at me. He inhaled deeply and his body relaxed. Then he began.

January 5th, 1945 - Prison Bella Vista, Montana. “That fool, Kiku! Did you hear? The war is over now and they’re really shutting this place down. If he had waited…if he’d just held on for one more week. We’d be free again!” A taller, still young but no longer a boy, Kosuke said standing in front of the barracks. “We’ll never be free here.” Kikuko hung her head and her black hair, now well past her

shoulders, fell forward. “They—” “They said we were free and then they took that freedom away. We are either free or we are not. That is what my father says. That’s why we’ve decided to go back to Japan.” “Kiku!” She bit back tears. “They hate us, Kosuke! They will always hate us. Danny ran because he hated them too and didn’t want to do anything bad. It’s not his fault, it’s their fault. The war is over but Japs won’t be welcomed back, that’s what my dad said so we have to go. Tell your dad to—” “He won’t go,” Kosuke said softly. “He says he fought for this country, and he believes in it.” “He couldn’t.” It wasn’t Kikuko who spoke but her father who came outside of the house and placed a scarf over her neck as he stood beside his daughter. “You’re going to Japan, Mr. Sato.” Kosuke nodded to him. “We are.” He put his arm around Kikuko. “And your father is wrong to make you stay here. Your

life will be harder here. This country took your sister and your brother. He doesn’t owe it anymore.” “It’s not debt.” Mr. Yamauchi stepped up beside his son and placed his hands on his head. “It’s loyalty. Just because they have wronged me does not mean I should give up on the belief I have in this country.” “Fine.” Mr. Sato stepped down and stood in front of him. “You stick with that belief but at the very least send Kosuke. We’ll watch—” “No.” Mr. Yamauchi offered a kind smile. “Thank you. But my wife and I need our son. They are giving those of us who want to go back home twenty-five dollars and a train ticket. If you ever return we’ll be heading to Irvine, California. A friend of mine says he can get me a job there.” “What?” Kikuko looked up at him. “When do you go?” He patted her head. “First train tomorrow. Why don’t you go say goodbye to everyone with him while your father and I talk?” “Okay.” She frowned as she took Kosuke’s

hand, and without a word to anyone, he led her away. “Don’t be sad. When we’re older we’ll get to live together wherever we want,” Kosuke tried to sound happy but his voice cracked. “Why would I live with you?” Kikuko stuck out her tongue. “Because I’m going to marry you,” he said to her and Kikuko looked at him, her eyes wide before she laughed. “I’m being serious. Don’t laugh.” “But what if I don’t want to marry you?” “Fine.” He prepared to walk away but she jumped on his back. He didn’t say anything but carried her as they walked. “I don’t want to leave her here,” Kikuko whispered softly. “But Dad said we can’t move the dead.” “Yeah,” Kosuke replied letting her down as they both clasped their hand and bowed their heads. “Danny. Sarah. Goodbye for now.” “Toshirô. Takeshi. Tsutomu. Goodbye for now.” Kosuke looked to her. “What about your mom?”

“My mom never leaves me.” She smiled. “She sent Toshirô, Takeshi, and Tsutomu off but she’s going to be watching out for Tomi, Dad and me. She heard you say you are going to marry me.” “And she’s happy about it. I’m the best guy.” He turned around for her to get on his back and she climbed on but didn’t reply. “You’re supposed to agree, Kiku.” She snored. “Kiku?” She snored louder. “You’re kinda heavy. Like a piggy.” “Hey! Take it back.” He laughed at her. “Who’s the best guy?” “Not you! Let me down.” “What are you two doing?” The voice of a familiar called out to them and they turned to face him as Kikuko got off his back. “It’s alright,” another voice said but the two stayed in place. “They’re okay, you two excited to be going home? Are you on the trains tomorrow?” They both stared at him blankly. “Yes, s—” Kosuke started to say but Kikuko

stood up. “I’m not on the trains. I’m going back to Japan.” “Well let those Japs know if they try anything again we got more packages to drop on their head —” “Hey!” the second officer yelled at him. “You two head off. It’s a long ride for you both.” “Yes, sir.” Kosuke took off running as he held on to Kikuko’s hand and dragged her to one of the gaps between the barracks. “Why do you always do that?” “They make me mad!” She screamed as she crossed her arms and leaned against the home. “And what packages?” Kosuke frowned as he rubbed his head in frustration. “Kikuko...! Kiku…” he said softer. “No matter where we go it’s going to be hard. Promise me you won’t give up.” “Kosuke, what’s wrong—” “Promise me you’ll work on your temper.” “I don’t have a temper!” He tilted his head to look at her and she

frowned as she looked away. “I wouldn’t have one if people didn’t make me mad. I’m not wrong—” He kissed her quickly and pulled back as he said, “You aren’t wrong. I never said you were wrong. But there is a better way to be right like my mom says. Promise me you’ll be careful and that you won’t give up no matter how hard it is. Do the best you can and I’ll work really hard too so when we meet again you can do anything you want and we can go anywhere we want, okay?” “Promise.” She stuck out her pinky. “Promise.” He linked his with hers.

1946 - Irvine, California “The day after I turned thirteen my father and mother divorced. I think they were waiting for my sake but I wished they would have done it earlier. I asked what was to happen next, hoping it would mean an end to the strawberry picking. But they didn’t seem to know. My father is moving to New

York and that’s about as far as their thoughts go. So the strawberry picking continues and not much else. I hope one day these letters make it to you. Father said that mail to Japan is probably being checked first. People are still scared.” - Kosuke Yamauchi.

1952 - Osaka, Japan “Kosuke, are you there? Because if you are I’d like to tell you that the promise we made is getting harder to bear the older I get over here. I thought Japan would become home by now. That I’d be fully Japanese by now. But even here I stand out. My personality is too loud, my behavior too brash. I don’t speak softly like the other girls do. I’m curious about everything and that makes me a wild child now. And the more Japanese I try to become the more Japan tries to westernize itself. I miss an America I barely remember. The time before Bella Vista. But I met you at Bella Vista. You were like those pink flowers that grew along the wire and

fences. Do you get these letters? Are you still in Irvine, California? Does the sun beat down on you harshly like it does on me when you are in the fields? You’re over there picking strawberries and I’m here knee-deep in muddy water planting rice. This isn’t what I want to do…they call me selfish and spoiled when I say that though. So I think it over and over again. What am I going to do? How will I get to you or you to me when even our letters can’t even make it?” - Kikuko Sato

1959 - Osaka, Japan “There is only one woman on this planet who as the ability to frustrate me to the point of insanity and that is you, Kikuko. For the last two years my heart has been ready to explode since I saw your pictures in TIME. Your photography is as stunning as you are. Whoever said a picture was worth a thousand words forgot to mention those words were past tense. So while I worked three jobs at the factories

with my father in New York, to be able to afford to come here to Japan to see you, you used your money to go to Irvine, California? Kikuko!” -Kosuke Yamauchi.

1960 - Irvine, California “You are not here. Why are you not here? Why did you move to New York? I barely have enough left to get to New York. How will I find you? Kosuke!” - Kikuko Sato

1961 - Irvine, California “New York? You went to New York? For the love of god woman, stay still! I beg of you. I feel as if I’m going insane. And now all the people I hurt and things I did to find you are catching up to me. My father is ill now so he came back to my mother, dying from a broken heart because the country he loved did not love him in return…and also the

liquor. New York is a big and dangerous place. Stay safe until I get to you.” - Kosuke Yamauchi.

1962 - New York, New York “I left the city. It scared me. It felt like Prison Bella Vista—cold, damp, dirty, the rich were laughing like the guards and the poor were dying like we were dying. My photography has gotten attention here. So I sit with the guards…the rich…now, but I can’t laugh with then. And I find that I’ve finally mastered how to be like those girls back in Osaka now. I know how to smile more and talk less. If I do less of both…people here like it more. My silence means mystery. The world is a funny place. If you see the photo of the Pink Fireweed Flowers on the corner of Boone Street & Geneva Boulevard, you’ll know where I am and I’ll be waiting for you here.” - Kikuko Sato

1963 - New York, New York “Today on my thirty birthday I now understand why my mother was so worried about me. I could finally see how much I was like my father. How he held on to his beliefs even if it killed him. Just like I am holding on to you, eighteen years later. Working odd jobs not because I have to but because I need to be able to earn enough just to travel and keep looking, ignoring the advice from anyone who tries to save me from myself. I am a grown man and I should act like it, they tell me. The weight of adulthood is heavy, it’s like trying to walk through tall grass in the dark, and just as I felt like giving up, construction closed Mainway Park and I had to walk through Boone Street & Geneva Boulevard to get home, and I saw the photo. I do believe I looked very much like a man laughing and crying in front of it. I’d been here for a year, trying to find you, losing hope I’d ever find you and a detour was all I needed. I leave tonight. Not tomorrow. Not when I have enough money, but now.” -Kosuke Yamauchi.

ESTHER I cried. Boy did I cry. “Sorry.” I held my hand up to them. “Her faces leaks often.” Mr. Stone-hearted handed me his napkin and sat there not at all a wreck. “Obviously they found each other. Why are you crying so much?” Snatching the napkin from him I glared as I wiped my nose. “After eighteen years of separation! That’s still sad, they kept missing one another. All those years they could have been together longer.” “You would have still cried anyway,” he muttered. “Which ocean did you drink?” Mr. Yamauchi laughed at him. “How long have you two been together?” “Together?” Malachi and I asked simultaneously, and before I could say anything he spoke first…again. “We’re not together at all. She’s my agent’s granddaughter.”

Kikuko frowned as she looked between us. “You two aren’t married?” I gasped as I tried to catch my breath. “Marriage now? How did we jump to there?” “No. She’s far too young for me.” I looked at him. “You’re only two years older than my ex-boyfriend. What do you mean far too young?” He tapped the side of his head. “I meant mentally.” Grabbing the water bottle, I prepared to hit him when Mr. Yamauchi started to laugh and cough which caused Kikuko to put her hands on his shoulders. He shook his head at her and glanced back up at us. “You both…are good people…” he coughed again and Kikuko got up to help him into his chair but he waved her off. “I’m fine, Kiku. I just woke up. Let me talk.” “It’s getting cold. We’ll be back tomorrow,” she said to us, and while I gathered the lunch boxes and silver chopsticks, Malachi dusted off the blanket and carefully folded it before handing it back to

Kikuko. “Malachi.” Mr. Yamauchi waved him over. “Do you want to know the secret to having a long life?” “I’ve never thought about it, however, I know someone who might like to know.” I knew he was talking about me and I wanted to hear the answer for myself but Kikuko stepped in front of me, and even though she was shorter, her voice distracted me. “We talked about it and agreed that we’ll publish our story if you’re the writer of it.” “Wait, what?” I looked at her. “I can’t—” “Then we won’t do it.” I frowned. I’d heard their story from Officer Richards, and while Malachi was laying around I’d gone out to find them. I knew people wanted to hear a story like this but I didn’t think I’d have to write it, I was planning on hiring a ghost writer. “The story is already written,” Mr. Yamauchi said as he steadied the blanket and bento boxes that sat in his lap. “Just make sure to describe how handsome I am.” “You weren’t that handsome though.” Kikuko

laughed as she finished packing up and stood behind his chair. “Sure…make sure to describe her beaver cheeks too.” “Bring up my cheeks up one more time I’ll leave you to the beavers!” Kikuko grumbled as she pushed him forward. “Have a good evening. Get home safe, Esther, and send the information to our daughter.” “She’s a lawyer, did you know?” Mr. Yamauchi asked proudly. “Has she called today?” “Not yet. She’s waiting for us to let her know when.” She waved to us once more before leaving with him and walking along the cleared path that led back towards their home. “Every day she walks him to this field. Tells him a story and he magically becomes lucid for a short while,” I whispered, watching them as they made their way to the other side of the forest. “By the time they get back home he forgets again. Every day it’s like this and they’re both happy. It’s beautiful.” “Li-Mei,” he said randomly.

“What?” “The woman who I’ve loved nine hundred and ninety-nine times.” He turned to me. “In this life her name is Li-Mei Zhou, and just like in all of our past lives she doesn’t remember either.” He frowned as he tucked his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “I know you wanted to help me see other people’s lives…I’m not upset about it. But it does make me frustrated with my own story too.” He’d moved on too quickly. I was still on LiMei. “Li-Mei Zhou? My Li-Mei?” “Why is she yours?” I didn’t answer because she wasn’t my Li-Mei but she was my friend, and now…now I didn’t know how I could not tell her about this. “Don’t tell her,” he said as if he could read my mind. “I want her to be happy in this life and I’ll try to do the same. That’s what you wanted right?” I didn’t know. My head hurt the more I tried to. MALACHI “She really made an art room,” I muttered to myself when I flicked on the light.

When I’d finished with a painting I tried to never look at them again. However, Esther, intrusive, the-sun-is-always-shinning-even-whenit’s-pouring-outside Esther, had put them up on easels. I was forced to face them all…all the images of her. And for some reason, though it was eerie in a way seeing all her eyes, in every different shade, staring back at me, I didn’t feel the pain. I couldn’t with Mr. Yamauchi words circling my mind. “The secret to a long life, Malachi, is loving to live, knowing suffering for the sake of love isn’t suffering, and finding joy in that.” Reaching over I turned off the lights and locked the door from the inside before closing it.

10. WAKE UP CALLS MALACHI SATURDAY BEEP… BEEP… BEEP… Not again. “Rise and shine.” Rolling over I covered my eyes against the assaulting rays of the sun. “Tell me, is this going to be a daily thing?” “Only until you start getting up before me. Here’s breakfast.” Looking to my left I saw a full plate of food was waiting for me along with a steaming cup of decaf coffee. This time on the silverware was an origami butterfly. Sitting up I glared at her. How she could be so upbeat at such an ungodly hour was beyond me.

“Did you write anything last night? Were you inspired?” Ignoring her I took the butterfly and opened up the wings. “The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago. The second best time is now.— Chinese Proverb.” I looked to her. “What?” “Translation. You should have written the book yesterday but since you didn’t we can start today. Do you have any ideas?” “Have you started with the Yamauchi’s story yet?” The smile on her face dropped and she glared at me. “No one is waiting—” “They are old. You should try before they die.” “Eat.” She handed me a piece of toast. “I’m trying, are you?” “You don’t try to write you just write,” I told her as I bit into the toast. “Then why aren’t you writing?!” She snapped at me. I ate more. “Today is a little bit salty don’t you think? And can I get some real coffee?” “You are an insufferable human being.” She

stood up. “I am not your maid, I can leave anytime I want to.” “Goodbye then.” I nodded to her. She reached out as if she were going to choke me before stomping out and slamming the door behind her. “Don’t forget the coffee!” I hollered. She cursed at me and I smirked as I bit into a piece of bacon. MONDAY BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…. “Good morning!” “I’m changing the locks,” I muttered as the sun hit my eyes. “I’ll break a window.” What was terrible was that I believed her. She really would break the windows. Sitting up I turned to examine my breakfast of omelets and oatmeal. Her origami animal of choice for today was a crocodile.

“The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.—Dolly Parton.” “Translation—” She placed the laptop next to me. “I can do this for a while. Why? Because I want my book. My book is the rainbow and you’re the rain.” I stared at her for a moment then lifted the paper crocodile. “Why this animal though?” “My crocodile tears at your disdain for waking up.” “Okay then.” So this was what it was like to live with a crazy person. Their craziness stopped phasing you at some point. WEDNESDAY “Oh my god!” She gasped as I leaned against my wall and stared at the door as she walked through with breakfast. “Why did I wake up thirty minutes ago?” I asked as I lifted my cell phone and showed it to her. “I know, it’s because someone has been waking me up earlier and earlier, but today she came in at 8 a.m.”

She grinned. “I overslept.” “Does that mean I can get back to doing that too?” “Sure. Do I have my book?” “Have you written—?” “I’ve gotten the three chapters done already. And since you’re up we can eat downstairs as you read it.” With that, she left and I got up off the bed again. I only made it a few feet before I heard the pots clamoring as they fell to the ground. “I’m okay!” She hollered. “I’m more worried about my pots,” I said as I walked downstairs. “Your pots?” She looked over to me. “I’m the one who bought them! Mr. All-I-need-is-a- dozenmugs-a-bowl-one-plate-and-a-frying-pan.” “You don’t even cook. So why buy pots?” “You can’t live in a house without pots!” “You don’t live here.” “Then write my book so I can go home to my house of pots!” She snatched the one in my hand from me and put it back into the kitchen cupboard.

“Where is this story you wrote?” I asked as I examined the breakfast she left on the kitchen counter. This time her animal of choice was a ram. I lifted it up. “Let me guess, because I’m stubborn?” She gasped and placed her hand over her heart. “Malachi…you’re awake before eight, you’re eating downstairs, and to top it off you admit your own flaws…be still my beating heart.” “‘I don't know how you persist in being so stubborn?’ ‘It's a superpower. I was bitten by a radioactive mule.’―Shannon Hale”. When I looked back up at her she was grinning because she felt ever-so-clever. “That’s inspirational?” I asked her. “No need to inspire you too much. Besides, my spider sense was telling me you’d be awake by now so why not make you laugh?” I clapped. “Nice cover.” “Let me get my book before your change your mind.” She rushed to the couch behind me and I watched her go in amazement. She really was persistent and that in itself was inspiring.

ESTHER “You’re a terrible writer,” said Malachi the Merciless as he drank his morning coffee. His thick-framed glasses were perched on his nose as he read from my laptop. “Wow, thanks,” I muttered as I tried to take it back but he pushed my hand away and continued reading. “You’re a beautiful thinker. I can see what it is you want to say but you’re just making things complicated.” He frowned as he scrolled back up to the top of the document. “You were an English major, right?” “So were you.” “I hated my classes though.” He took off his glasses and turned to look at me directly. “Everyone was pretentious. They always wanted to be the next Shakespeare, Fitzgerald or Salinger, writing in prose they did not understand while throwing symbolism into your face.”

“Tell us how you really feel.” Geez. “You’re a terrible writer because you’re not the one writing. Your fingers are typing, but the words on the page come from every last professor and English teacher you have ever had. You are not Shakespeare, Fitzgerald or Salinger. Those people wrote in an era when reading was the greatest form of entertainment. Everyone was, in a way, an English major. But now they are not, we are a rare breed so we need to write simpler and do it with much more conviction,” he stated as he handed my laptop back to me. I stared at him without taking the laptop from his outstretched arm and he waved it in front of my face. “Careful, I just bought this.” I took it from him quickly. “You’re the one who was staring at me as if wings had suddenly sprouted from my back,” he muttered as he reached for his coffee. “Not a very attractive look for you if I do say so myself.” “See? I was admiring you for a moment and then you just had to go and ruin it by reverting back

to your old jerk of a self.” “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” I said as I walked towards my tote bag. “Admiring me for what?” I turned back to face him thinking he was just teasing me but he looked mildly curious. “Seriously?” “What?” He questioned with annoyance growing in his tone. “Malachi, a couple days ago I didn’t know who you were. I knew your words. I knew your stories and they moved me profoundly. You were Malachi Lord. I kept thinking to myself, If I could just sit in a room with this guy and have a conversation for an hour, I…I’d leap for joy. I would be so happy. You were here…” I lifted my hand and raised it over my head. “And I was here…” I put my hand to my chest. “…fangirling with the rest of the world.” “And now?” he asked as he took a sip of his coffee. He seemed so unaffected and it annoyed me so much.

I flipped my hands around. “Now you’re just Malachi.” “Ummm.” “Ummm?” Why ask if he didn’t care. “I express my disappointment—” “If I fell from a pedestal you put me on, it’s your fault, not mine.” He pushed back. “All I did was tell my story. The story of my life…my lives. I didn’t say I was wise. I didn’t say I was a conversationalist. I didn’t say I was a good person. Nor was I supposed to be idolized. I didn’t say anything at all.” I’d never thought of myself as slow but for some reason it was only then that I was able to connect the dots. “You remember the life and then you write it down. You aren’t writing stories, you’re writing journals,” I whispered that last part to myself. “Yes.” He nodded as he wiped his hands. “I write my truth and I can’t give you anything less than that.” How had I missed this? Why was I only just realizing that? The big ones. “I…When you told me

about Romeo and Juliet—I mean Romeo and Giulietta, I thought it was only the big romances. The ones we all know. But—” “I write about the ones history forgot,” he said softly as he stood directly in front of me. His blue eyes were fatigued but it was almost like…like he felt bad for me. Not himself but me. “I write them because the love in that life was just as important as the ones in which we were Kings and Queens. When we were on top of the world, I loved her, and when we fell to the bottom, I still loved her—rich, poor, king, slave, farmer, scholar, black, brown, yellow, and white. I loved her. So all of those lives, those memories, what the world calls stories matter.” The more I thought about it the more pain I felt. I remembered the pain of those characters…of him…and Li-Mei. “Li-Mei.” I stared back into his eyes. “She reads you all the time. She so—” “Stop.” He frowned. “Don’t mention her to me.” “Malachi, she’s my friend and she—”

“If she is your friend why do you want her to die?” He might as well have slapped me. That’s how harsh the reality of his words were. “She is safe without me as I am safe without her. So don’t dangle her in front of me…it’s inhumane.” “Then why am I here?” Why was I trying so hard? If he didn’t want to change his story—his life —he shouldn’t have to. “I’m sorry.” “What?” Reaching down for my backpack I threw it over my shoulder. My brows came together in a frown as I felt ashamed now. “I said I believed you. But I lied. I didn’t really spend any time thinking about it. I just told myself to accept what you believed…but I believe you now. I really do. I don’t think you should be forced to write that way either.” I offered him a smile even though I could feel myself barely making an effort. Nodding to him I walked towards the door. “Just let me know what you want to publish. I’ll go ahead with it after speaking to my grandfather. Have a good day.” The wind was so strong that it felt like it was trying to push me back inside. But I just held on

tighter to the handle of my tote. I ran down the stairs, around the corner of the house, onto the brick path and into the small wooden guesthouse. I actually liked it. It was cozy. Everything was on one floor and the kitchen overlooked the living room just like with the main house. A large, silver flat screen hung in front of the dull brown couch which I’d livened up with a white, blue and green quilt I’d bought at Fung’s Quilts and Carpets. I’d moved the coffee table towards the side of the fireplace in order to make room for my makeshift bed since it was always so cold in the bedroom. Grabbing the quilt and my pillow which lay on the side of the couch I laid down on the carpet and rolled myself up into a cocoon. “Umm…” I clutched my chest. Why did I feel like this? Why did my heart hurt like this? Take a deep breath, Esther. That’s right. That’s it. “You are the bringer of your own happiness,” I whispered to myself. I said it over and over again

until I could sit up on my own. Shifting until my back pressed up against the couch I took out my laptop, opened the word document to the four plus pages I’d written, and deleted everything. I sat watching the cursor blink at me as it awaited my command…my voice. The problem was that I didn’t know my voice…but I knew the Yamauchi’s.

MALACHI FRIDAY 8:47 a.m. I stared at the clock then back at the door. “I can do this for a while. Why? Because I want my book. My book is the rainbow, you’re the rain.” I mocked her as I lay back down on my bed. “All I said was the truth.” And she gave up for the second day in a row. Not that I cared, but her lack of tenacity was quite disappointing. Closing my eyes I waited but sleep didn’t come.

The darkness didn’t come. Instead, there was a single beam of sunlight that peeked through the curtains in an attempt to blind me. I had woken up at almost two hours ago. I rose from my bed and moved towards the curtains. With a view like this, why am I looking at her place? Was she even there? “What am I thinking?” I didn’t care where she was. She could go back home if she wished… Shit, Alfred. I needed to keep her here for now. For Alfred’s sake at least… Walking towards my closet I paused. It was strange to see everything so neatly organized. Shaking my head I changed into a pair of running shoes and a windbreaker. I grabbed my phone, keys, and wallet as I left the house. It was warmer than I thought but the wind wouldn’t let up. Behind the stairs, on the opposite side of the

garage, was a vintage yellow bike with a brown basket in the front and wooden panels on the back tires. I walked past it and up the red brick path which cut through the grass towards the cabin guest house. “Roses?” I reached out to touch the flowers that were hanging from the windowsill when all of a sudden I looked up to find her staring back at me. She was wrapped in a quilt and her hair was a tangled mess around her face, making it seem as though she was attempting to impersonate a lion. “Jesus…!” I hollered as I instinctively jumped back. “ESTHER!” She glanced down at the roses and then back at me and grinned before she unlocked the window. “On a scale of one to ten, how badly did I scare you?” I inhaled deeply, trying to calm down, but that smug look on her face was rather annoying. “Did you lose your brush or are you trying to contact aliens via your hair?” “Say what you want but this right here is the look of a genius.”

“The line between genius and madness is a thin one. Are you sure you didn’t cross it by mistake?” I snickered as her eyes narrowed in on me. “Can I help you, Mr. Lord? I’m very busy creating this generation’s greatest novel.” Is this what she’d been doing since yesterday? “Are you sure you’re up to it, Dickens?” “Well, I see you just wanted to bother me so goodbye—” “Get dressed, I’m hungry,” I told her as I stretched. She leaned on the window seal resting her chin on her palm. “And this is my problem how?” Must she fight me on this? “I don’t know where the diner you get the food from is.” “Oh, well the name is—” “I don’t know what you order.” “I’ll call Pete.” “Who’s Pete?” “Who else would be Pete when we’re talking about the diner?” “Esther, I don’t do well with people. Won’t it look bad for your little blog if people think I’m an

asshole?” “You are an asshole though!” “Even assholes have to eat…ha…” The sight of her laughing as she leaned out the window proved too comical, and unable to help myself I joined in with her laughter. She paused and her expression darkened. “Did you call the fansite I created for your work currently standing at over two million people, ‘my little blog?’” she asked as she stood up straight and allowed the quilt to slip off her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I can’t answer questions with your hair like that.” I snickered again. “Fine! I’ll change and then we can fight properly—” “Is anyone out there?” I spoke into my hand, glanced up, and then lifted my hands to her face as if she were a radio antenna. “Esther, turn your head to the side, the reception is bad.” “Urgh! You…You’re like a four-year-old!” She slammed the windows shut and I grinned as I reached out to touch the roses. “Silk.” She’d planted silk roses, below her

window…in the fall. It made no sense, but then again Esther made no sense to me anyway so why not just roll with it. They were so red, almost blood red. They remind me of…reaching up to touch the scar over my eye, I tried to ignore the burning irritation of it. But the memories were fighting their way to the forefront. I didn’t want to fall into that darkness again. Ah…

May 12th 1781 - Guanajuato, New Spain “Just one?” The woman asked as she cut the flower for me. Smiling I nodded as I lifted the single pink rose from the bouquet, then as I reached into my trousers for my money, I found nothing but a hole in my pocket. “Carlos, it’s only one flower. Go.” “Are you sure—?” “Do I look hungry to you?” she asked and I grinned, knowing that she was poking fun at

herself. Instead of replying, I offered her my gratitude as I turned and made my way further up the tapering cobblestoned alley. The red and yellow walls of the surrounding apartments flagged my sides and I soon came to a stop outside my door. I glanced up to her balcony, unable to stop myself from smiling. I would have stood there dazed if other people hadn’t started to come up. Walking up the stairs, I entered my apartment and immediately went to my balcony and stepped outside. She was so close…one small leap and I’d be with her. “Soon, beloved,” I whispered as I placed the rose on the rail of her balcony. “How soon?” I looked up to find her leaning in the doorway. Her wavy, dark brown hair fell to her shoulders and as she looked at me with those beautiful eyes of hers, she wrapped her arms around herself and stepped outside. Taking the rose, she lifted it and inhaled its scent. “How much longer, Carlos? Let’s go. Let’s run away now.”

I opened my mouth to speak when I heard a deep voice call out. “Ana? Ana, where are you?” Her eyes widened and I rushed back into my apartment watching as she spun around so quickly that the rose slipped from her hand and fell to the street below. “Are you okay?” Snapping out of it, I backed away from the flowers. “Malachi?” At the sound of her voice, I turned to find her dressed in dark, tight jeans, brown boots, and a thick, red knit sweater. Her hair…I don’t know what she’d done but moments ago it was everywhere and now she’d turned it into a mass of beautiful curls that rested just past her shoulders. “How long have I been standing here?” She frowned as she moved closer to me and leaned in. “Were you having another recollection? You only touch your scar when you’re getting like that.” She’d noticed? For the most part I forgot it was there.

“I’m fine. You ready?” She nodded. “Sorry it took me so long.” I glanced down at my watch…I’d been standing there in a daze for more than half an hour. This is why I hated being aware of the time. The moment I knew it, I knew how long I’d just lost fighting my own mind. “Malachi.” “Yes.” I looked to her. “On second thought I’m just going to have coffee—” “Oh no, you don’t. You promised food, there will be food. Come on…wait were you planning on walking there?” she asked as she glanced down at my clothes. “Yes.” “Okay. I’ll take my bike. I only run on the threat of death.” “Wait, what?” I asked following her as she moved to her bike. “On threat?” “Yep.” She mounted the bike and leaned to one side. “In New York we have this magic power. We just stick our hands out and all of sudden a car will arrive and take you anywhere you need to go.”

“Your sarcasm has been noted.” She grinned and kicked off. “Come catch up or else!” “Or else what?!” “Or else I’ll wake you up at three a.m. just for the heck of it!” I knew she wasn’t kidding. Shaking my head I took off down the road after her as she stood up in her seat and pedaled as hard as she could, causing the wind to blow right through her brown curls. Just like that, I forgot about my scar again.

11. THE GOOD PEOPLE MALACHI “Are you doing okay back there?” I turned around and watched as she glared at me. She’d pedaled as hard as she could when I started to catch up with her and now after almost twenty-five minutes as we neared the edge of town she was breathing harder than me. “I think you commented about me being out of shape a few days ago?” “How are you barely sweating?” She stopped and allowed her boots to touch the pavement on the shoulder lane of the road. “I run often and usually much further than this.” And much faster but there was no need to make her feel worse. “Since when? You’ve been a hermit since I came here. The people in town call you the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

I stared at her completely baffled, a look that she mistakenly took as offense and this time her tone was softer. “And I told them that was very rude and that you just had a cold.” “I wasn’t offended.” “You sure?” She leaned over the handlebars eyeing me carefully. “Because your mouth is saying ‘I don’t care’ but your face is saying ‘what the hell?’” “How perceptive of you. But both my face and my mouth, as it is on my face, are saying exactly that: I don’t care. I’m baffled because people think the Disney version of the Hunchback is cannon. Victor Hugo was the only one who got one of our stories correct.” Her mouth dropped open and she looked at me with her big brown eyes ready to unleash a river of tears. “That was you too?!” She gasped pitifully. “Seriously?” “Yes. Seriously. Which is why I am not offended.” How could I be? I actually was the

Hunchback of Notre Dame. “Disney actually offends me more. They changed the whole story to make it a happy ending, not even a happy ending for Quasimodo, but for Phoebus de Châteaupers, who was the reason Esmeralda was hung. And he didn’t save her when he could have. He watched her die instead and married his fiancée, whom he was with the whole time. That was who Disney made her true love. The Hunchback can’t have the pretty girl even though he’s a good guy because he’s still a monster, so instead he gets a standing ovation from the city. He didn’t need the city, he needed her. So screw Disney and their happily ever afters.” “Okay, then,” she whispered as she hopped off the bike and walked beside me. Now I was annoyed. I didn’t mean to come off so heavyhanded but…but I couldn’t stand that movie. I couldn’t stand the mockery of it all. I could tell she was lost in thought. She was quiet. She didn’t stay anything; the only sound came from her bike as the tires spun. This was the reason I didn’t like people either, they didn’t

understand. No one understood…no one but her. And I couldn’t go to her. In town, we walked past the police station. There, four squad cars were parked in the parking lot where a group of officers with their coffee cups stood laughing loudly. One of their faces had gone red and they were completely unaware of us until she yelled, “Good morning, Cobie! Mornin’, Bo!” Their heads snapped up. One of them—Cobie or Bo—leaned forward to see who we were before he smiled and lifted his coffee cup to her. He was much older than the other boy beside him. “Morning, Esther!” “You coming to the festival tonight?” the other yelled. Esther nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be there!” The first one gave her a thumbs up as the younger one called out— “Mornin’! Were you supposed to meet Joanna yesterday?” “Crap!” She looked ready to run. “Did she go to her daughter-in-law’s already? Was anyone able to help her?” “Yeah, they said…”

I stopped listening. Daughter-in-laws? Joanna? Pete? Cobie and Bo? Who the hell were these people and how was she so close to them already? Honk. Honk. Another squad car turned into the station and stopped right beside us. Inside the face of a familiar fake smiling blond whose name I couldn’t remember, stared at us. Next to him sat a redheaded female officer with freckles all over her white nose. “Hey, David. Hi, Murphy.” Great, more irrelevant names. “Esther, the connoisseur.” The what now? “Oooo…” The woman beside mocked. “You’re using big words there, David, connoisseur.” “Shut it, Murph.” He snapped at her. She ignored him and leaned forward and waved at me. “Hi. I’m Murphy Daniels. Are you the infamous Malachi?” “Hunchback and all,” I replied emotionlessly causing Esther to elbow me in the rib.

David shook his head. “Don’t take it personally —” “It is personal though.” I cut in and Esther hung her head as if she were about to die of embarrassment. “David, Murphy, we’re going to catch a bite eat, you know those snickers commercials?” The what? “The ones where Betty White gets tackled?” The redhead asked and then laughed. “I love that one.” “Yeah, he’s in Betty White mode right now. We’ll see you at the festival.” What mode? And when did I sign up for a festival? It was like I’d walked into a parallel universe. “Okay, I’ll save you a seat.” David nodded to her and nodded to me. “Nice to see you out, Mr. Lord.” I was about to tell him the truth when Esther interrupted. “See you! I’m so excited!” “I bet it’s nothing like the city but I hope you like it.” He winked at her and drove inside towards

the other cars. She waited until we walked a few feet before smacking my arm. “Try to act like you don’t hate people, please.” “I don’t hate people though.” I just didn’t want to know them. She sighed deeply. “Two steps forward, seven steps back. They are good people, Malachi—” “You barely know them. I’ve met a lot of people, the good ones are very hard to find.” “Then be one!” She snapped as she marched off. I wanted to tell her I’d tried that too. I’d tried being one of the good ones but it never worked out well. If she lived long enough or at least saw the history of people unfold, she’d know it was the villains who ran the world. Part of me thought to become the villain then…but the more rational part of me wondered if this was my hell, if I was doomed to live, love, die and repeat for all time, what in the hell was fate? It was fear that kept me from ever getting to that stage.

ESTHER “Here you go. One Wake Me Up for Esther and one Big Man for…you. What’s your name again?” Pete asked Malachi as he placed the plate of bacon, ham, sausage, and hash browns in front him. But Malachi…he wasn’t there. He was sitting in front of me. I could see him; we could all see him. But in his eyes I could see that he was in another world… in another memory or at least getting there. I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t want to make a scene but if it was as bad as last time…he’d be on the ground soon. And I’d have no way to keep him from the hospital or the gossip. “It’s Malachi. Thanks, Pete.” I smiled. Pete nodded at me before he glanced back over his shoulder towards his wife, Millie, who was in the back awkwardly staring at Malachi as if he were…a hunchback. Reaching over to him I put my hand on his wrist and squeezed tightly.

“Malachi, please,” I whispered softly. “Whatever it is…it’s already happened. Wake up. Malachi…Malachi.” He blinked a few times before his clear blue eyes focused on me. He grimaced as he reached up to touch his scar. It took him a second to figure out that we were at the diner and when he did he glanced around and those who’d been staring quickly looked away, making it obvious they had been staring at him to begin with. Picking up his fork he hunched over the plate and hid his face. “You don’t have to be embarrassed—” “I run at night,” he whispered as he looked up. “Somewhere between one and three in the morning. I go running because normal people would be sleeping at that time—you’re sleeping at that time. But it’s the only time I don’t have to stay in my safe zone. I don’t watch television, or read the news, or travel more than twenty miles from where I’m living at the time. I avoid eye contact with those around me. Why? Because knowing that I might one day see her scares me. And now that I

know who and where she is, the pain isn’t so bad anymore, but I can’t control the memories.” He lifted his index finger to the poster hanging right beside my head. It was a Native American woman who stood on the mountains with a staff in her hands, looking over the forest. Pete was half Cree and Crow Indian so the imagery fit in perfectly with the theme of the diner. “Your life as a native American?” He nodded. “She was too. But from another tribe that was at war with mine. I was brought as a captive, wounded. In that life, her father’s axe gave me this.” He tapped his face. “In every life, through some circumstance I get this scar. In that life, just as I woke, and all the memories came back she was already the one tending to me. She said she remembered the moment she saw me. We spoke for an hour. We reunited for an hour before my tribe attacked and she and I both died. One hour, can you believe that?” He snickered bitterly as he lifted a piece of bacon to his lips. “Malachi…”

“You don’t have to look for the words. No one ever has the words. I don’t want your pity. Honestly, I don’t know what I want…I feel like… never mind.” “No, tell me.” I reached for my fork too. He forced himself to smile. “Are you my therapist now?” “I’m your friend.” His eyebrow raised. “Friend?” “Yes.” I nodded. “You annoy me sometimes…a lot of the time actually. You’re stubborn, and you always know what to say to get right under my skin. But…you…you are both friend and family. I know my grandpa cares about you a lot too. Sometimes I would get a little jealous when you would make a bestsellers list. Grandpa always mutters under his breath ‘that’s my boy.’ It made me work harder. I’m a tad bit competitive.” “You, competitive?” he replied. “Ms. I-brakefor-squirrels?” “I didn’t brake, I swerved!” I said quickly. He nodded, the corner of his mouth coming up. “Which is why a man on foot was able to beat you

while you biked.” “Correction—a trained athlete was able to beat a New Yorker in heeled boots.” “Running a few hours a day does not make you a trained athlete.” I couldn’t help but gasp. “A few hours? What? You were probably running slowly for my sake too!” He paused for a moment and I prepared myself for his smartass response, but instead he said, “What were we arguing about again? I’m not sure if I’m proving or contradicting my point anymore.” I thought about too and then laughed. “Fine, let’s go back. Okay?” “You’re my friend and family so you can talk to me about your…memories. I’m not a judger.” “Everyone’s a judger.” “Okay, but I’m nice about it. So tell me what you were feeling.” “I forgot that too.” I groaned. It was like he was trying to forget. “Fine, I can be stubborn too. I have questions.” “What type of questions?”

“Therapist type questions.” “That sounds judgy.” “Malachi.” I took a deep breath. It was like I was playing a never ending game of chess with him and I could feel my hair slowly going gray. He grabbed the water jug from the center of the table and filled his cup which was a shocker on its own. “Ask away, friend. But do know I’m not a fan of criers.” “You don’t need to be a fan. You just have to have tissues on hand. First question,” I tried to think of where to start. He had so much knowledge about so many things. I was curious about him and I really wanted to get into his head. “That scar, how did you get it? And is that when your memories came back?” “When I was eight.” I wasn’t sure what look I had on my face right now. But whatever it was made him nod. “Yes, I’ve been like this for a little over twenty-two years.” That was my whole life. He’d been suffering like this for my whole life. “My father was a cop in the St. James Parish,

Louisiana, which is where I ironically died in another life. He was the man of the town and everyone loved him after he saved some kids from a burning church. Everyone thought he was the second coming of Christ. Handsome, upstanding, a law enforcer, with a loving wife he physically, emotionally, and sexually abused, and a proud son he liked to beat on after a stressful day of being a hero. “One day he used his beer bottle as a bat and my face was the ball. I woke up three days later and I had all of my memories back. And then he wasn’t so scary anymore. I didn’t fear him. I’d seen worse. A few months later I was able to convince my mother to leave him and together we ran away.” “I’m sorry about your father.” I really was. How much could one person suffer? “Did it hurt when all the memories came back?” “No.” He shook his head sounding surprised. “It didn’t then. It was like I’d watched a movie.” “So what happened?” “I moved to New York with my mother and I’m guessing that I was too close to wherever Li-Mei

was at that time,” he whispered. Normally he’d refer to her as her or she but this was only the second time I’d heard him call her by name. “But each time it would happen my mother would rush me to the hospital and soon enough the bills were beginning to pile up. So I forced myself to stop thinking about it and I started trying to hide my black outs. I did it for her sake, but then she died… she killed herself, but I’m sure your grandfather already told you that part of the story.” “He did but only because I was jealous, remember? I wondered why he always had to see you. You were already a teenager then. I might have wished you harm…sorry.” Jeez, I was such a terrible and jealous person. “Don’t be. I understand.” He took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair, his plate now sitting empty in front of him. “You had no one else, right? I at least had my father.” “You went back to that S.O.B?” The wide smile that formed across his face was as genuine as I’d ever seen. “No. We haven’t spoken since I left Louisiana. But Alfred got me a

lawyer and sued him for back child support and threatened him with jail time for abuse. Once I was sixteen I became emancipated. I lived on my own in a small apartment in Brooklyn. Alfred tried to get me something better though I refused. I didn’t like the thought of being so in debt to him.” “In debt…to him?” That didn’t make sense to me. “I thought he was in debt to you. That’s always how he made it sound.” He shook his head. “Alfred…my mom...it wasn’t his fault. There was nothing he could do. The night she was to perform as Fantine in Les Miserables she didn’t get drunk. She was drugged by the back-up who thought it wasn’t fair that a nobody had gotten the leading role. My mother didn’t realize what had happened and was so overwhelmed and angry that she killed herself. “Alfred didn’t realize until one of the other actresses confessed upon hearing what my mother had done. There was nothing he could have done to stop her. He was only doing his job. Alfred is a good person. One of the few. Good people don’t understand how bad people think. He’s spent his

life trying to take care of me while the person who did it and those who knew what had happened continued acting and living their lives while forgetting their pasts. ‘They didn’t kill her, she killed herself. They’d only been messing around. This type of thing always happened’… they will make excuses until the end of time before they take responsibility.” I now understood why my grandfather never let me go any deeper into the arts. I think every kid thinks at one point they’d like to be in the movies…but my grandpa always pushed me away from it. And I, being the easily distracted person I am, even worse so as a child, would find myself enjoying everything so I went to piano classes and volleyball club instead. “You aren’t crying.” I focused on him and found him staring at me intently, waiting to see how I’d react. I reached up to touch the corner of my eye. “I guess not.” “So you only cry for romances?” He teased. “I guess so.”

“You know, your answers are a little disconcerting for a therapist.” I smiled at that as I put my fork down and rested my elbows on the table. “Friend, remember? With a therapist’s ear then?” He leaned forward too. “What are you thinking?” “Nothing.” “Liar,” he whispered. “When you aren’t talking you’re thinking, Oshaberi.” I groaned as I put my hands to my face. “I hate that nickname so much.” “I like it.” “Only because no one is calling you that.” “True. And now you’re deflecting.” Why was he reading me so much? I guess it was fair to pry after I’d just drilled into his life. Frowning I looked down at my now empty plate… apparently I’d eaten on autopilot. “My grandpa is a good person,” I said my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not.” He frowned. “I don’t think everyone who came up to you to say good morning would agree.”

“That’s because they don’t know me. You don’t know me either.” “Are you a serial killer?” He asked me. “NO!” I said a little too loudly and a few people turned to stare at us. I nodded to them before glaring at him. “I don’t feel like a good person because… because I feel like a fraud some days. I try to do the right thing—be kind, respect and help others. But sometimes I feel like I’m doing it not because I really care about other people… but because I want people to think I’m a good person. Most people know who my grandpa is back in the city, so they know who my mother was, and so when people look at me it’s with this look of expectation. Is she going to crash and burn and throw away her life like her mother? Or is she going to become something great like her grandfather? In school I didn’t want to be the loud black girl. So I didn’t speak much and buried myself in books. I dressed as rich as I possibly could because I didn’t want people thinking I had no class. I wanted to be the best so that I could make grandpa proud. So they would say good

things about me. Look how well she plays Mozart. Did you know that she won the chess tournament? Oh, she clocked the most volunteer hours. She’s one of the good ones…I feel like I’m a fraud.” “You’re not,” he replied and I realized he was sitting there again while I was merely talking and voicing my thoughts. “You don’t—” “I know bad people and bad people don’t care if they’re being fake. Bad people don’t worry about whether or not they’re being good for goodness sake. They don’t care. You do. And you do so thinking of others, therefore you are not a bad person, Esther Noëlle.” “Could you say the same about yourself?” He glanced back up at the poster on the wall. He didn’t need to think much because he was already nodding his head yes. “I’m a good person. I am not the best of the good people. I’m probably last among the good people, but I am a good person.” I smiled as I rose from my seat. “As a good person will you accompany me to the festival

tonight?” He looked at me like I was crazy. “Not a chance in hell.” “Didn’t you say you were already there? Why not stay and see the fireworks?” “Did you just—” “Use your personal suffering as a joke to get you to come to the Lieber Falls Founders Day Festival? Yes. Yes. I did. Cause I’m bad…bad to the bone.” He covered his mouth and shook his head as he stared at me bewildered. “Malachi, I can make lame jokes all day.” “Does it get lamer than that one?” I tilted my head from side to side and pretended to crack my neck before clearing my throat singing, “Bad Boys, bad boys, whatcha—” “Whatever it is she wants, give it to her before she sings more,” Pete said to Malachi as he walked over and picked up the plates from another table. “Hey! What is that supposed to mean?” “It means you’re an awful singer. Just awful,” Malachi muttered as he reached into his wallet and

set a few bills onto the table…much more than was needed. “You are hurtful. People love my voice.” They all snickered, even Millie. I looked up at her feigning hurt and she bent her head and pretended to check the receipts in her hand. “See?” Malachi leaned in so close to me that I jumped a little. But he didn’t seem to notice, instead, he looked between Millie and Pete. “They’re good people towards the front of the good people line…they don’t want to hurt your feelings. I, on the other hand, at the back of the line, feel that I must tell you that you sound like three cats who’ve been thrown into a washing machine and left to die.” “HA!” Pete put his fist to his mouth as his body shook but he couldn’t hold back anymore and he erupted into laughter. “Pete…Pete…stop…haha! Poor cats,” Millie giggled. “Poor me!” I told them and they laughed harder. Pete finally managed to compose himself as he

looked at Malachi teary-eyed. “Why three though?” “Her pitch changes…ahh…uoooo...ieee… One creature can’t make all of those sounds.” At this point Pete was going to bust his gut. “Okay. Sure. Make fun of me. I don’t care. I’ll sing if I want to!” I muttered as I marched towards the glass doors of the diner. But when I looked back at Pete talking to Malachi I couldn’t help but smile. At least they didn’t think he was a freak. I could handle being the butt of the joke for today… only today. I’d get my revenge on him soon.

12. UN-SAVEABLE ESTHER “Wow,” I whispered looking up at all the stars which shone in the moonless sky like diamonds over black silk, while the lake, which was slowly starting to freeze over, lay before me. On the edge of the beach, the waters had already iced over. Had it been silent, the beauty would have been immense, but all of the town had converged on the lake and small campfires dotted the circumference of its shores. I felt the blanket fall over my shoulder before I heard his voice. “You like it?” “David? Hey.” I looked up to him. He was out of his police uniform, and like most of us, he was bundled up with a red hat that covered his blond hair. He kicked his foot over the log and sat beside me as he cracked his beer can open and took a long drink. He already reeked of whatever it was that

he’d been drinking and it started to give me a headache. “Ah…” He shook his head and licked his cold, chapped lips as he handed it to me. “Want some? This will warm you up good.” “No thanks.” I nodded to the fire a few feet from me. The whole town was bundling together and drinking in an effort to keep warm. As soon as the sun went down the air was filled with ice and a wicked chill took over the night. If it weren’t for heat packs they were handing out to everyone my fingers would have gone numb by now. “Seriously, it’s good, have—” “She’s good.” I turned to see Malachi standing a few feet away from us. Over his left arm he held my quilt and in his right hand a silver flask. I’d asked him to bring me my quilt since he’d gone back to the house to get changed but I hadn’t asked for the drink, not that I minded. He now stood in jeans, boots and a dark blue wool jacket and the flames of the fire flickered in the reflection of his eyes as he looked at us. “Officer.” “Just call me David, and come have a real drink

with us!” Malachi ignored him and looked down at me. “Am I interrupting something?” That’s what I wanted to know. I thought as I looked between the two of them. “It’s—” “Seriously, what’s your problem?” David snapped as he stood up. “We’ve been trying to welcome you since you got here but you’ve been nothing but rude.” “I apologize,” Malachi said but he didn’t sound like it at all and David could tell. Stepping up to him David dabbed into Malachi’s chest. “I don’t know who you think you are but I don’t like the way you’re speaking to me!” “How should I speak to you, sir?” Malachi replied making it worse, considering that he was older than David. “David, sorry we need to work—” “You really ought to stop making excuses for him!” He snapped at me. “David! I need your help with these.”

I looked over Malachi’s shoulder to see Eleanor, David’s grandmother and the Sheriff of Lieber Falls, calling him over, to help a few other guys who were bringing drinks towards the edge of the pool. “Try to not act like a freak, hunchback,” he muttered before he turned back to me and smiled. “I’ll come back later, alright?” I nodded not saying a word as he finished his drink and walked towards his grandmother. “He’s an…” “An alcoholic, yeah. I’m sure the whole town knows. His grandmother is keeping him on a short leash,” Malachi said as he took the blanket I’d forgotten I was wearing and dropped it onto the log before handing me my quilt. “You noticed?” “He is exactly like my father, of course I noticed.” That was all he had to say and I understood. But he went on anyway taking a seat beside as I wrapped myself in a cocoon. “When he pulled up in the cruiser I saw the flask in the side pocket beside his seat. And the red headed woman

beside him, Mandy—” “Murphy.” I corrected. He rolled his eyes as he twisted the top of the flask. “Whatever, Mandy, Murphy. If he called her any of those names she would answer. She’s in love with him, and covering for him too…like my mother once did.” “If the love of your life committed a crime would you cover it up?” He poured the deep brown into his mug, the top cup part of the flask, and handed it to me. “Coffee?” “Hot chocolate,” he replied drinking directly from the flask. “And yes.” “Yes?” I looked at him as I blew on the chocolate. “Yes I would help cover up whatever crime,” he said looking up at the stars. “Really?” He smirked and looked to me. “You’ve never been in love, have you?” “I had a boyfriend?” He frowned at that as he tilted his head to look

at me. “What? I am pretty attractive if you haven’t noticed.” “I haven’t,” he replied while drinking. I wanted to smack him but instead I closed my eyes and drank too, enjoying how warm it made me feel. “Having a boyfriend and being in love are two different things.” “I know.” Which was why I’d broken up with him…he said he’d give me space, but not only did he fail to do that, I found myself annoyed each time he texted me. So before coming here I’d simply told him I wanted to see other people via text message. He hadn’t replied and I hadn’t given it another thought until now. I felt better to be free of him… was that a bad thing to say? We fell into a comfortable silence and maybe it was the chocolate, or the fire, or maybe I was just too exhausted to care, but I slowly leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. “What are you doing—?” “Shhh,” I whispered as I opened my eyes and

looked up at the sky. “I know your story. Your life has been painful but I’m still jealous.” “You really need to see someone about this jealousy problem of yours,” he said softly and I could tell he was uncomfortable so I sat up again. “Anyone would be jealous. Could you imagine being one of those stars?” I pointed up at a random one. “There are thousands upon thousands of stars all around you, and your task is to find the one that’s perfect for you. It’s hard. Some stars you like don’t like you back. The stars that like you, you don’t like them back. Sometimes stars like each other for a while and then realize, for whatever reason, this isn’t the one. Sometimes…you start to wonder even among the thousands and thousands of stars if there is anyone actually out there for you. And you, Malachi, are the one star who always knows there is someone for him.” “I’m not a star,” he said and then lifted up his hand and pointed to my left. “I’m that.” Just as soon as he’d said it the first firework exploded in the air and its gold shimmering lights fell down like…like broken stars.

“I’m a firework. Only here briefly and then I fade. While the stars stay where they are.” I frown at that, looking to him as he watched the show. “Malachi.” “What?” “Look at me.” And when he did, I did what my grandfather always did to me. I flicked the center of his forehead as hard as I could. “Ah! What the—?” “Stop being so negative!” “I was just—” “Being negative. Pause for a second and look around.” Rubbing his forehead he looked around. “What do you see?” “What am I supposed to be seeing?” Man, he was a pain. “The whole town is here to see the fireworks. Stars are beautiful. Fireworks are breathtaking because they come so instantaneously and then poof. They’re gone but that display lingers in your mind. It eclipses the moon and the stars. But most importantly it brings everyone to a stop. It makes them get together in one place and just stare

at the sky.” I looked back to the sky as four, then five of them exploded. “Could you imagine this world without Romeo and Juliet, Obinna the Great to Adaeze, Lancelot and Guinevere, Wei Xiao and Princess Changping, Quasimodo and Esmeralda? It would be…miserable. We wouldn’t dare risk the odds because we didn’t have examples of what that looked like. Your love, your life, has inspired millions—no billions—of people to love foolishly…selfishly…unreasonably, with no regard for anyone or anything else.” I repeated the lines of from the last book, and I could feel the tears forming in my eyes again. “And because of that, when we see fireworks, when we see true love, we must stop what we’re doing and respect it enough to just let it be, to watch it dominate the sky, we stare in awe of fireworks.” I was so lost in my rant that I didn’t look back at him until I was finished, and when I finally did I found him looking at me. The way he looked at me… the hope, the pride, the kindness…it made

my chest hurt because I thought he looked almost supernaturally beautiful. And I didn’t want to think that. Thinking that would make me think…about how much I liked him. About how fun it was to fight with him. And just live here…but that wasn’t my place. I didn’t want to be Li-Mei’s replacement…how could I possibly be? “I’m tired. I’m going to head back,” I said as I rose from the log and set the cup down. “Thanks for coming with me.” Wrapping my blanket around me I left him as quickly as I could, which meant that I ended up trying to make it through a maze of people all of whom were just standing still with their phones up in the air to take a picture. The more people I had to get through the more frustrated I became and I didn’t know why. But my head was spinning. I just wanted to run. Finally, I made it off the beach and into the trail of the woods, just in time to see Murphy try to push away David who was hunched over her with a beer bottle in his hand. “David, stop.” Murphy didn’t yell but she was

trying her best to smack his hands away as he grabbed her jeans. I grabbed a thick broken branch from the ground and was ready to use it as baseball bat when a large white hand grabbed the top half of the branch and the flash of a camera went off. “I’m sure this would look bad in any context,” Malachi said still holding on to the branch I’d planned on using. David backed away from Murphy quickly until he realized it was us. “You’re starting to get on my fucking nerves!” He hollered as he started to advance towards us but Murphy grabbed his arm. “Let it go.” She pulled as hard as she could even though she was a whole head and even a bit of his shoulders shorter than he was. “This was all just a misunderstanding. Right, Malachi?” “Right.” Malachi nodded. Begrudgingly, and clumsily, she took David, who looked ready to kill him…us, away. Malachi waited until they walked past us and headed back towards the lake before he snatched the branch out

of my hand. “Have you lost your mind?” “He was about to—” “This.” He waved the branch in my face before throwing it into the woods. “It doesn’t work. You hit him. He’ll want revenge, most likely by arresting you. And when you explain your side of the story Mindy—” “Murphy.” He looked ready to strangle me when I corrected him. “Mandy, Mindy, Murphy, whatever. She’ll protect him. Not you. You can’t save people like that. They have to find a reason to save themselves. If you want to help take photos or video if you see something. But don’t go digging into lives of other people. You will get yourself hurt! Got it?” “Okay, sorry! Stop yelling at me. Geez,” I snapped before walking up to the house, however, I only made it a few feet before I stopped and watched as the smallest white flake fell from the sky and danced in the air in front of my face. Reaching out I let it fall right into the palm of my

hand and melt. When I looked back up I saw the thick clouds that crawled over the sky. Clouds that hid the stars and brought the snow from the mountains to us. One by one they came down. “It looks like there’s going to be a storm,” Malachi said softly, reaching out for them as well. “The guest cabin is cold.” “It hasn’t been too bad.” I held on tighter to the quilt over my shoulders. “Stay in the guest room instead.” That was all he said as he turned and walked in front of me. “You could say please.” “Or you’re free to freeze if you’d like!” He called out and I couldn’t help but grin. He just had to throw in a little salt with his kindness.

MALACHI “Malachi!” What have I done? I thought as she ripped the curtains open and sent all the light in the universe

into the room. “Malachi, get up. Look.” “I’m sure the snow will still be there when it’s not…” I lifted my phone and looked at the time. “FIVE O’ CLOCK!” I’d gone to bed four hours ago! She was insane! “In a few hours people are going to start walking about and shoveling it and it’s not going to look like it looks now.” She turned back to me. Her curly hair was pulled up and tied around her hairline with a scarf she’d fashioned into a bow. Grabbing the pillow off my bed I put it over my face. But why should I suffer alone? Sitting up I grabbed another one and threw it at the back of her head. “Oh you’re going to regret that,” she said as she bent down and picked up the pillow from the ground. “Don’t,” I warned her. She ran towards me like a madwoman and I got up quickly grabbing the other pillow to block hers. She didn’t let up and so I smacked her side with it. And she stood there shocked like she wasn’t

expecting me to hit her back. “How’s that regret thing going?” “I’m making progress,” she replied right before the pillow hit me square across my cheek…and a flash of déjà vu came to mind. This was the second time she’d hit me across the face with a pillow. This time it was war. Around my room we fought smacking each other as hard as we could until our pillows gave out and sent all their feathers into the air, onto the ground, and all over my room, covering the place in white, almost matching the sight outside the window. “There are so many things I want to ask right now.” We both froze at that voice. That God-like voice. I looked over her shoulder at him. He stood dressed in his signature suit and colored ascot, today’s choice a deep purple. He looked completely fine…with the exception of the cane he was holding on to. It was like he’d been living here this whole time...Had he come here because it worked? Had the treatment worked? I glanced down at Esther, expecting her to turn back to him, but

instead she was actually frozen. Not just her, but everything was. The snow falling outside, the feathers falling inside, it was all suspended in time. He looked at her for a long time then snickered and I saw it…the look in his eyes. He hadn’t just shown up. He was here…to say goodbye. “Alfred?” “Don’t tell her until after today. I can’t die on her birthday,” he said to me. “Alfred…no.” I shook my head. He couldn’t die at all. “Do me one last favor?” he asked. I couldn’t speak. My throat burned and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything. I was frozen, just like Esther. “Today is going to be her last good day for a while…make it count for her, okay? I made a video for her, so she won’t know until later.” “Alfred…don’t please…PLEASE!” The tears burned as they came down my face. “I’ll miss you too. This is a good dream.” He nodded looking around. “Have more of these types of dreams. Better yet, try to live more like this too

okay? Know that I love you and I’m proud of you both.” *** “Malachi?” When my eyes snapped open she was kneeling in front of me. I stared into her brown eyes for a long time before I wiped my eyes. Rising from the bed I walked to my window and looked outside. All of Lieber Falls was covered in a thick layer of snow which seemed to glisten as the sunlight touched it. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Esther looked out, her face almost pressed against the glass. “Ha! My roses.” I saw them, covered in snow, but the brightness of the red stood out in the whiteness. “Why plant them?” I asked trying to regain my voice. “Because I’m waiting for the real ones.” She smiled. “I planted rose seeds but they won’t bloom for a while. So I put the silk ones out until then. I love roses but they’re never in season during my birthday so I planted my own.”

“Today is your birthday?” I was hoping it was a lie. That it had only been a dream. That I could pretend I didn’t know what I knew. She looked up to me as she grinned and outstretched her hands. “I’m officially twenty-three as of four a.m. this morning. What did you get me?” I looked at her hand and she laughed. “I’m just kidding—” “Twenty-three wishes.” “What?” I turned to her. “You get twenty-three wishes. Anything you want. Just make a wish.” “You’re serious?” She crossed her arms and eyed me carefully. I nodded. “You’re entering dangerous waters. I’m a big wisher.” “Then start wishing.” For Alfred’s sake, my sake, her sake, I hoped she wished for the moon and more before the world tried to crush her heart.

13. GONE MALACHI A big wisher was an understatement. First—See the Seven Wonders of the World. Second—Take a hot air balloon ride with a beautiful view. “A little vain aren’t you?” I asked as I dried my hair and read the third one over her shoulder as she sat on the couch. Upon hearing me she hugged the book to her chest and looked at me wide-eyed. “When did you come down?” “A custom-made gown?” I repeated her third wish and she stood up. She’d changed into a dark green knitted sweater, one of many she’d gotten from Joanna in town, that stopped right around her hips. Under it she wore thick black leggings and a pair of furry rainbow socks over that. Hiding the book she’d been writing in behind her back, she

smiled as she mocked me. “Is it too much for the great Malachi Lord? I tried to warn you.” She knew it was a bit much, but I’d wanted her to ask for it all. “No. Go on. But please try adding something that can be accomplished on the day of your actual birthday.” “Wish four,” she read aloud as she laid back down on the couch and I moved around to sit beside her. “Malachi Lord shall bake Esther Noëlle a vanilla birthday cake with chocolate icing.” “Fine. Do you want twenty-three candles too?” I asked, sitting where her feet were. She wiggled her toes in her rainbow colored socks as she looked up at me and stared for so long I began to feel uncomfortable under her gaze. “What?” “Why are you being so nice to me?” “It’s your birthday. Would you like me to not be nice?” She didn’t look convince but continued writing while looking up at me every so often. “Wish five, Malachi Lord will wish me a happy birthday and thank all the people who wished him a happy

birthday on his fan group.” She had to push it. She was testing me…and this wasn’t something I could fail. So I took out my phone and turned the screen to face me. Sitting upright I hit record. “Hello… Lord Nation,” I snickered at that. “I am, as you may or may not know, Malachi Lord, and today is Esther Noëlle’s birthday. Esther…is…if you knew her personally you’d know that there is not one word that could quantify who she is. And while she drives me up the wall sometimes, I’m not ignorant to the fact that she has put in so much to this site simply because she loves my work. So today on her twenty-third, I would like to say thank you and happy birthday, Esther. And also I would like to thank all of you who wished me a happy birthday as well. I’m honored.” Ending the video, I looked up at her and she frowned at me. “What? It’s not grand enough?” I asked as I sent her the video. “No. I just don’t know what to say when you’re being so nice.”

Rolling my eyes, I reached for her list but she pulled it away. “I haven’t finished!” “Then finish!” “Excuse me if I don’t want to rush a once in a lifetime chance to have anything I want. It’s a lot of pressure trying to think of stuff.” She wasn't serious. “Fine, take your time, put down roots if you want to. I’ll go work on your cake.” “You’re seriously going to make me one? Can you even bake?” “Why make wishes if you don’t think they are possible? Do we have flour?” She stared at me amazed. “Alright. I’ll just check for myself then,” I muttered as I got up from the couch. “Wish six: Malachi Lord makes a full course birthday dinner for me.” She tapped her chin with the blue pen in her hands. “Wish seven, we go ice skating on the pond…that way we can pick up things for the cake and dinner. Teddy’s make these cool skates. I really want one. Ohhh wish eight: you’re going to tell me more about your past

lives…or maybe you don’t mind painting me? I mean honestly the world deserves to see your art, it’s so beautiful. Actually both. I’ll make that my ninth wish since you’re being so generous.” I really hadn’t thought this through. I walked away from her but when I looked back, her head swayed back and forth and she grinned to herself… I wanted to smile. She wasn’t in pain…but I knew I was only delaying it. I didn’t know the mysteries of the universe. I don’t know why I died and woke up as a new person with my former memories intact. I didn’t have visions, nor could I predict the future, and magic to me was another name for coincidence. I’d never seen anyone in my dreams. I never really dreamed per say. I remembered but I didn’t dream…until last night when I saw him. And just like when I’d woken up with all the memories of my past life I just knew. I trusted the feelings I felt and knew they were real. Alfred was gone and that hurt. It burned worse than I’d ever thought it would but I couldn’t mourn him now. I couldn't show that pain because he and I

both wanted her to have one day. One more day where she believed the sun was still shining even when it was pouring outside. “Malachi?” I blinked and refocused on her as she turned back towards me and rested her arms on the top of the couch. “Have you been able to contact Grandpa? His phone keeps going to voicemail.” Lie. Or say nothing which was still a lie. Those were my choices. “No.” It was the best I could do. “Weird,” she muttered to herself. “This project he’s working on…no, but even then he’d still call no matter what. Hopefully he’ll make it back in time to have Thanksgiving with us.” Swallowing the lump in my throat I replied, “Us? Thanksgiving? No thank you. I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon enough.” “Apparently the Grinch woke up early, this year!” she muttered rolling her eyes. “I’ll be adding Thanksgiving dinner for the three of us to my list.” “Come on,” I said hoping to distract her. “We

need to go grocery shopping and then we can go skating.” “But my list—” “Keep working on it. You’ll have time to think in the car,” I said as I walked to where our boots and jackets were hanging from yesterday. “Car? When did you get a car?” “I always had a car. It was taken in for repairs after my accident,” I said as I reached for her knitted scarf and placed it around her neck before I shrugged into my jacket and stepped into my boots. She read over her list with a serious expression while she waited for me. “Maybe I should ask for a car?” “What happened to that special power where a yellow car just appears in front of you if you wave your hand in the street?” I mocked and she made a face at me. Patting my pockets, I glanced upstairs. “I forgot my wallet I’ll be right back.” “Oh! Can you get my phone? I plugged it in by my bedside table. Thanks!” she said. “No cars,” I told her as I rushed up the stairs.

“Your motorcycle then?” she asked and I nearly stumbled which caused her to laugh. “You said anything, right?” I knew she was messing with me so I decided to mess with her back. “Sure. Once you get your motorcycle license.” “What?” She put her hands on her hips. “You don’t think I can?” Yeah okay. Good luck with that. She’d nearly broken my rib cage with how tightly she hung on to me. I just made it to the door of my room when the doorbell rang. “I got it!” My stomach dropped as the hair on arms and at the nape of my neck rose. I didn’t know why but I just knew that she shouldn’t open the door and so I ran, almost leaped, down but it was too late. She’d already opened it. And there, standing in the frame of the door, dressed in his uniform with a bouquet of white lilies in his hands, stood the blond-haired snake himself. “David?” she asked a little less cheerfully than

she usually did, as if she was annoyed to see him and I was grateful for that at least. He handed her the lilies and said, “I just wanted you to know, if you needed anything I’m here.” “What? Thank you. You didn’t have to do all of this for—” “Her birthday. We get it,” I said coming up to her. I glared at him telling him to leave. Hoping there was some…any redeemable quality about him. Sadly, there was not. “It’s your birthday? I’m so sorry your loss—” “SHUT UP!” I hollered at him. And he jumped but she didn’t as she read the letter attached to the flowers. “Sorry for your loss? What loss?” She looked up between us. It was then that the fool, the inconsiderate intrusive ass of a human being, realized what he’d done. He looked to me for help and I had none to offer. Instead I wanted to kick him down the stairs hard enough to ensure that he never got back up. “Malachi?” I looked to her and the fear in her eyes. I

opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. The flowers dropped from her hand as she ran. She ran towards the couch and reached for the remote control I doubt I’d ever touched and turned on the television. “Esther—” “Breaking News: IPN has just confirmed that Alfred Benjamin Noëlle, the famed screenwriter, director, and filmmaker, of such movies as Rise Son Rise and The Father of the Faithless, and longtime civil rights activist, passed away this morning at the age of seventy-three—” “Ugh.” She shook. She took a step back and stretched out her hands switching between the channels in the hopes that it would somehow change the news. And when she realized that each channel held his name with the numbers 1944-2017 under his name and on his pictures the sound that came from her body as she tilted forward didn’t sound human. “AHH! UGH! AHH! OGHH!” She screamed until she wasn’t strong enough to hold herself up

any longer. She screamed as she fell to the ground and I grabbed her as I tried to hold back my own tears but it was like trying to hold on to fire. Still I didn’t let go even as she hit me. “You knew!” She screamed trying to break away. “YOU KNEW! She slapped and smacked and dug her nails into me and I was more worried that she’d hurt herself so I let go and she ran. She ran towards the door and out into the white of the snow. “Esther!” I called as I ran after. She was at the bottom of the stairs when I got outside. David, the devil himself, was already at his car, unwilling to do anything because he was a coward. “Esther!” I called once more as she slipped on the snow and ice-covered path while running towards the cabin. She picked herself up but slipped once more before she made it inside. “GET OUT!” She grabbed the first thing she could, which was her lamp beside the couch and threw it at the door. I ducked and the light bulb

exploded as it hit the ground behind me, leaving only the metal part intact. “Esther—” “Stop calling my name!” She wiped her face as she grabbed her purse, and threw her things inside. “You knew! That’s why you were being so nice! You knew! And you wanted me to just…how did you know?” She paused. Her face was covered in tears and her hair was sticking through her hands. Her brown hands were now red and bleeding from her fall. But she didn’t look at me. “I woke you up. I was with you up until we went to get ready. But you’ve been acting odd since you woke up…my grandfather? Did he call you? Did he say something to you last night?” “No.” “STOP LYING! Ahh!” She screamed again as she put one hand over her chest and the other over her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she looked to me. “You’re lying. How did you know? Why aren’t you shocked? He was… perfectly fine! This is some kind of mistake! There has to be a mistake—”

“He…was sick.” My voice cracked but I pushed on. “He’s been sick for a while. He didn’t want you to see him…die.” “Stop talking.” She lifted her hand up to me. Her eyes seemed darker, hollow, as she stared back at me. She was a silent for almost a two full minutes before she spoke again. “You never had a book for me,” she whispered to herself. “I’m here…not to help you but so…so…ugh…he could…he…he could die alone? Is that what you’re saying to me?” “He had tuberculosis…the end stage is bad. He wanted to spare you—” “Tuberculosis? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!” She put her hands to her head once more. “He was fine! I spoke with him two days ago! He was fine!” “He went for treatment—” “WHY DO YOU KNOW THIS?!” She grabbed the things from her bag and threw it at me. “I’m his family! Me! I’m his granddaughter! WHY AM I HEARING THIS FROM YOU?” I couldn’t answer that question and she began to hyperventilate. “Esther…”

She backed away from me shaking her head. “This whole time…this whole time I was just being babysat? You were doing this for him? You were watching over me to keep me from going to my grandfather? You let him die alone!” “He asked—” “What about me?! WHY? Why isn’t anyone asking me?! Uhh…” She reached up to her throat unable to breathe. When I came to her she backed away but I reached out. Not caring that she held on to me, I placed my hands on her shoulders I put my face in front of hers. “Breathe. Esther. Just breathe.” She wasn’t listening to me. She was giving in to panic. Putting her hands on her face I made her look me in the eye. “I know it hurts—” She slapped my hands away once more and slowly sank to the ground and curled into the fetal position as her tears rolled off the side of the nose while she tried to breathe. Laying down beside her she said three little words I never thought I’d hear. “I…Hate…You…” she said in between breaths.

Hate me but live. I thought as she kept sobbing.

ESTHER Was the wooden ground that I now laid upon cold or was it me? I couldn’t feel anything. I just sang. “Baby it’s cold…” “I've got to go away...” Through the streams of my tears I noticed him laying down beside me…singing with me. I tried to wipe away my tears but they fell even more. Everything…all the time he’d spent with me…all the things we’d shared. It had all been for my grandfather’s sake. He’d gotten to say goodbye. He’d gotten to…to be there for him, while…while I just played around. “I hate you.” “Sing with me anyway.” I didn’t. Instead I made a wish. “I wish you’d bring him back. Bring him back, Malachi.”

“I can’t. If I could, I would, but I can’t.” I needed to go. I should have never come here to begin with. I should have never left him. The moment I did. He was gone. Pushing up off the ground, I stood up. “Take me to the airport. I wish…I wish to never see you again.”

MALACHI She didn’t look back when she got on the plane. I stood there watching as they ripped her ticket stub. I wanted to get on that plane with her. But her wish had stopped me. And so I just stood there. “This is the final boarding call for Flight 2331 to New York. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for Flight 2331. Thank you.” The attendant called at the gate

but I just sat there and stared out the window at the plane. “Sir? Sir, this is your flight, isn’t it?” she asked. “No.” Rising, I moved from the chairs to the window. I was hoping I’d see her again, but knowing I wouldn’t, I did my best to accept that. Turning around, I walked away from it all. In the end…I hadn’t been able to do anything for the either of them. Walking into the bathroom I entered the stall, closed the door, and pushed against the walls until my knuckles were red and I sobbed. Just like that…Alfred was gone…and I wasn’t able to do anything for her. I’m pathetic.

14. TATTERDEMALION SOULS ESTHER “Esther, do you need food?” Li-Mei knocked. But I couldn’t reply. “Esther, hey, it’s me, Howard. I brought some lobster soup, you want some?” I wanted my grandfather. “Esther…I’m sorry,” Li-Mei said still knocking. I thought she meant sorry for my grandfather, what she meant was sorry for my door. “Ah! What the bloody hell is this thing made of?” Someone who sounded like Rafi yelled as he kicked the door. “Esther?! Esther, if you’re alright—” Closing my eyes, I drowned them out. They all kept calling but I just laid on my grandfather’s bed, hoping, praying, and dreaming of anything but this.

MALACHI My house was cold. The simple reason for this was the fact that I’d left the door open and snow had gotten inside. The more complex reason was internal: I was alone. I was unable to help her, unable to do the one thing Alfred had asked of me. And now both of them were gone. I saw her journal. It and the remote control whose batteries had popped out sat on the wooden floorboards behind the couch. Picking up the journal, I read her list. She’d only made it to thirteen. Thirteen happy memories before…before she was gone. “A promise is a promise,” I whispered to myself as I tore out the page. I folded the note and stuck it into my back pocket. She was a Noëlle and if there was anyone in this world I was in debt to, it was the Noëlles. One day. I didn’t know how far that day was from now,

but one day I’d grant her everything she’d asked for and more. “If you’re listening.” I looked up to the ceiling. “Let me, at the very least, keep my promise in this life.”

ESTHER A man I didn’t know, make that just another one of the many people I didn’t know, walked up to the podium which was covered in white and red tulips. Dressed in black like the rest of us, he cleared throat a few times before addressing the whole church, my grandfather’s church. “Alfred Benjamin Noëlle,” the man spoke, “was the type of man who made you feel small. He didn’t mean to. I don’t even think he noticed he was doing it…but just by being authentically himself, in all his greatness, he made all those around him want to grow and keep striving. He showed us there was no limit to our…”

I didn’t want to hear him. I didn’t want to hear any of the people who stood to talk. “Esther, no…” Ignoring Li-Mei, I discreetly reached up to my ear and put my earbuds in. I didn’t want to be here but there was no avoiding it. I looked up at his photo, my only contribution to this funeral. It was one of him laughing at me. One of three hundred or so people here knew that. It just looked like he was genuinely laughing at something. I can’t. Biting back the sob I put my head down and tucked my hands under my legs. I could feel a few hands on my back rubbing and patting me. But I didn’t want that…I wanted…I wanted them to move. To get out of my way so I could run. I didn’t want to be here. That casket was empty. His body was there but he was gone so what was the point?

MALACHI “Why?” I grumbled as I looked up at the wood paneling of my bedroom ceiling. It had been two weeks. Two weeks since his...since he had passed and she’d left… yet… “7:37 a.m.” I was awake at 7:37…now 7:38 a.m. according to the cellphone I no longer needed, since one of the two people in my contacts was no longer here to call me and the other had no reason to. Two weeks and yet I now woke up before 8 a.m. no matter how late I went to bed or how badly I wanted to sleep in. “It’s all her fault…” I muttered putting my arm over my eyes. I tried not to think of her but what could I do when I awoke and knew the only reason I was up at such a godforsaken hour was because of her? Not just her but Alfred…if he didn’t…if he hadn’t passed, none of this would have happened, so I was blaming him too.

Alfred. Esther. Myself. I was blaming the world for anything and everything today. “If I’m like this, she’s probably much worse.” I needed to get myself together. Rising from the bed I stretched out and walked into the closet to change. However, how she was feeling wasn’t my business now.

ESTHER “Please have a seat, Ms. Noëlle.” “Thank you,” I whispered softly as I took a seat on the white chair that sat behind the glass conference table. Putting my bag on the ground beside my feet, I took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with, Mr. Morell.” I didn’t want to be in his office any longer than needed. I wasn’t a huge fan of lawyers—they were

like grim reapers: they only came around when something was about to die, or dying, or already dead, whether it was you personally or your bank account. “We’re still waiting for one more person,” he said as he looked through the glass doors and into the rest of the office. “Ah…here she comes.” Part of me knew it was her. It could only be her. I gritted my teeth together as she strode into the room and ignored the lawyer who held the door for her. She was dressed in white with her red coat hanging off her sounders. Her black hair was styled into a pixie cut, and the string of pearls around her neck were the same pearls I’d seen in old photographs of her and my grandmother. I couldn’t see her eyes because of the big bug-eyed sunglasses she wore, but as she walked towards us she moved as though she was striding down a runaway instead of coming to deal with the will of her own father… the same father whose funeral she didn’t even have the courtesy to attend. I tried not to glare at her as Mr. Morell stood to shake her hand, but she ignored him and set her purse on the chair before she sat

down. “You could at the very least—” “I still have the apartment on West 18th and my usual allowance, correct?” she asked, cutting me off and looking only at him. “West 18th?” I yelled. “You live less than ten minutes away from me?” Again, she didn’t reply and continued to look at Mr. Morell. “Well?” He sat down and took a deep breath as he consulted the stack of paper in his folder. “You will have the apartment for another six months and your allowance will be cut in half for the remainder of the year. After that you’ll need to provide for yourself.” “You’re funny,” she cut him off as she took off her glasses. “But I’m not in the mood for jokes. My father and I had a deal—” “Which expired the day he died,” Mr. Morell said as he handed her a piece of paper. “This is all you get and he said I should tell you to be grateful with even this.” “GRATEFUL?!” She screamed and I flinched

and looked away from her as she tore up the paper. “He’s worth billions and he wants me to be grateful for the remainder of the year? You’re lying. What did you do with all my father’s money huh? I know your vultures have probably been stealing—” “Mr. Morell and Grandpa have been friends for almost four years. If you don’t want to respect me, fine. But you should at least respect him!” I hollered at her. Her nose flared and her brown eyes finally shifted to me. Even though she was glaring, at least I wasn’t invisible now. “And why would you I respect a—” “Mr. Morell, what else is in my grandfather’s will.” This time I cut her off, not wanting to hear whatever insult was going to come from her mouth. I didn’t have the strength…I didn’t think I ever would. “It’s very straightforward. Anything he did not leave to his charities, foundations, and a Mr. Malachi Lord, is now entrusted to you, Ms. Noëlle.” He tried to show me the documents but she

snatched them from his hands and read through them. “You can’t be serious! She’s just a child! She knows nothing about how to handle all of this.” “I know more than you. And what I don’t know I’m willing to learn,” I said to her as I reached down and picked up my bag. I rose from the chair and regarded her. “If you want your flat and your allowance back, mother, try acting like a decent human being first.” “Who do you think you’re talking to?!” “Thank you, Mr. Morell. We’ll continue this later.” I shook his hand and walked to the door before she screeched at me. “DON’T YOU DARE WALK OUT! NOT BEFORE YOU FIX THIS—!” “GRANDPA DIED!” I yelled at her. “HE DIED! HE’S GONE! And you’re making a scene over his money? I didn’t want to believe that you could be so selfish but…whatever. You just keep being the miserable person you are; I’ll make sure you still have money. I’ll take you of you…but first, I need to take care of myself. The worse you make me feel the harder it will be for you to get

anything for me.” And because she couldn’t help herself. Because she was a truly miserable person, she had to get one last insult in. “I am your mother. Watch how you speak to me. I could have dumped you in a ghetto park and you wouldn’t have been anyone with anything. You should be grateful to me. I could always sue you and get at least—” And because I was, in fact, her daughter, I couldn’t stop myself either. “The day you tried to kill me was the day I no longer owed you anything. And please, go ahead and bring more lawyers into this, I know how to tell a story and crying is my specialty. Who do you think will win?” I left without waiting for her reply. Was this my life now? If so, I’d give it all up… I can’t do that. It wasn’t mine to give up. It was my grandfather’s. Everything he’d devoted himself to. And now I’d devote myself to it as well. What else could I do?

NINE MONTHS LATER

15. THE FATE OF THE FATED ESTHER “Ma’am?” I glanced up from my desk to see her standing in front of me with two thick stacks of proofs in her cream-colored hands. “Shannon, you were my boss once, you don’t have to call me ma’am.” I smiled as I sat back in my grandpa’s—my chair. I extended my arms for the books. “Please sit. How is your son?” “Terrible,” she frowned as she handed me the stacks. “He’s so cute I hate leaving him in the morning.” “Do you need a—” “Don’t be soft.” She directed at me using her boss tone, something I hadn’t heard in a while. “You may be young but you are the boss. You can’t have these kids walking all over you, alright?” The way she spoke you’d think she was sixty. She was actually forty-four, but that didn’t seem

old to me. She was one of those people born with a long and bold nose, but she had a small frame. She kept her hair at shoulder length and her bangs fell right over her eyebrows to make her nose stick out more, to show it off. Every time I saw her I couldn’t help but think she looked like Anna Wintour. “Esther?” “Do you want to drink with me?” I asked her as I opened the drawer and grabbed the bottle of red wine I’d replaced my grandfather’s brandy with, along with two glasses. “It’s ten past three.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s ten past eight in London.” I rose from my chair up and handed her the glass, which she took and sniffed. “Is this—?” “Roma Lemur? Yes. It was a gift from Melton.” With a smile, I walked around the desk, sat in the leather chair beside her and crossed my legs. “Melton? As in Ryan Melton, the director?” I nodded as I took a sip. “He tried to seduce me for the rights to one of my grandfather’s plays. He

had dollar signs in his eyes. But at least he had a good taste in wine, right?” I lifted my glass and tapped it against hers. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” She drank and the moment it touched her lips she groaned. “Can someone please try to seduce me with wine? I don’t have billions to my name or anything.” I laughed. “Not billions, but you come with class and sophistication and a steady job—” “And an eighteen-month-old whom I love dearly but I’d love to…you know.” She winked at me and I knew what she was implying. “I don’t know.” I winked back as I finished my glass and set it on my desk. “I kind of wish I did though. I haven’t been with anyone since…geez. I guess since I broke up with Howard, who is still avoiding eye contact with me and I have no idea —” “He slept with Li-Mei when you were gone last year,” she confessed as she licked the wine from her lips, and her eyes suddenly went wide as she realized what she’d said. “Crap. See, this is why I

don’t drink in the daytime.” “Li-Mei? Is that why she asked to be transferred to the London branch after my grandfather’s funeral?” She didn’t comment so I took the bottle from my desk and refilled her glass. “Tell me everything.” “Esther…” “Think of this as making good with the boss,” I nodded for her to keep talking. Sighing, she drank again and like a sinner in church, she began to confess, turning to me completely. “Okay. Last year, when you went to Indiana—” “Montana.” “Even worse.” She made a face like she’d never go someplace like that. But then again if it wasn’t a city of at least a million, most people in New York would rather stay in New York. “Remind me why you were in Montana again?” “Anyway…” “Anyway.” She went on. “Li-Mei was feeling her usual Carrie Bradshaw way, and Howard was

just heartbroken. It was like two days after you left —I came in because both you and your grandfather were away. I don’t trust these kids to keep this place afloat without someone to blame if anything went wrong. They—Li-Mei and Howard—kept, you know, avoiding eye contact and then they would steal glances at each other. But this isn’t just gossip. One night I left the office and right on 4th their tongues were down each other’s throats. And it didn’t look like a first kiss between two people. His hand was practically up her skirt.” “How could she…?” I whispered. “I know! You guys hadn’t even been broken up for a week?” “Not to me. To him.” “Who?” When she said that I realized she had no idea why I really wanted to know…I guess she thought I’d be jealous or upset. But I wasn’t upset about Howard. I was upset with Li-Mei…even though I had no right to be. It’s not like she knew about…him. But still. I felt bad. Like I’d caught a wife cheating on her husband while he was away.

“Esther?” “Huh?” I looked back at her and she was anxiously looking over me. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Besides, Li-Mei gets back tonight so I’ll see her for dinner.” Her eyes went wide. “Don’t worry, I won’t talk about this or ever let anyone know you told me. I promise.” “There is no promise better than a Noëlle’s promise,” she whispered. It was something my grandfather used to say. She looked down at the glass in her hands. “I miss him.” “Me too,” I said leaning back. In one month, it would be a full year since he’d passed. “Is that why you haven’t changed his office?” I looked around at all his awards, and photos, and…life…all hanging on the walls of his office. It was my office now but it would always be his. “Yes. Besides I have nothing to replace it with.” What could I hang up? My college diploma? It seemed kind of silly in comparison…seeing that my grandfather had never graduated from university. Though he’d been given many honorary degrees.

“You still have a long life ahead of you. I’m sure you’ll be replacing—no—doing greater and better things,” she said as she stood up and snapped her fingers. “Like your book! Why wasn’t I the first to get a copy of the final draft? I heard Rafi demanded to direct if it ever becomes a movie. Apparently it’s gone be huge he said. It’s about the Japanese internment camps, right? When are we publishing it?” “Not until I get the okay,” I whispered rising too. “From whom?” “Thanks for drinking with me, Shannon.” I nodded to her. Understanding that I didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t press my any further and instead smiled at me as she walked out. I moved towards my chair, reached for the remote and hit the button that caused the glass walls to frost over. Returning my attention to the computer screen I saw that the word CONFIRM was still there. Scrolling up, I clicked yes only to be met with, “Error: Your session has expired. Please rebook

this flight.” But when I tried to rebook it, the flight was full. I couldn’t help but laugh as I sat back down in my chair, which felt awkward to sit in. After almost a year it was still molded my grandfather’s shape and had refused to change to mine. “Why is it so easy to leave Lieber Falls but such a pain to get there?” Was he even there still? I wasn’t going for him. I wasn’t. I was going to see Mr. and Mrs. Yamauchi. I wanted them to read the book and hear their thoughts. But I knew if I went…I’d end up trying to see him again, if only to slap the hell out of him. Malachi Lord. After everything my grandfather had done for him he hadn’t even attended his funeral? Why? Because he was worried about LiMei. Meanwhile, she was busy screwing someone else! “Ms. Noëlle?” “What?!” I snapped as I turned around to see Adith, Rafi’s timid, less chic, younger brother, staring back at me, his hazel eyes wide. “Sorry. Come in. What is it?”

“You’re meeting with the lawyers from SemiTed Entertainment. You’re going to be late if you don’t leave now. I called a car. I heard Mr. Rickman tends to talk a lot, so I’ve pushed you’re meeting back to five thirty. That gives you more than enough time to meet up with Ms. Zhou before heading to the Gala tonight. Your dress has been sent over to your apartment or would you like it brought here?” “Here is better. Traffic is going to be pain from my home,” I said as he handed me my bag and coat. “No problem,” he said already texting. “And I’ll let them know you’re on the way.” I nodded as I buttoned my coat and placed my leather Prada gloves on. I grabbed my sunglasses, the ones I used for more than just the sun, and walked out of the office with Adith right behind me. Everyone in the Hive gazed up at me and I realized once again that I wasn’t my old self anymore. I’d know that my grandfather was important—that his work was important—but after he died and I saw the magnitude of everything that

was now left to me to take care of. I realized he’d been holding the sky up above my head…allowing me to just be young and enjoy life without worrying about anything other than myself. And now that he was gone, I couldn’t just think of me any longer. My grandfather’s legacy. Everything he’d built, everything he’d dedicated his life to, I couldn’t and wouldn’t let go to waste. So I couldn’t be their friend…I couldn’t be really approachable, not with so many people trying to take everything away. I had to be Esther Noëlle and the sunglasses helped to create the necessary distance. If they couldn’t look into my eyes, they couldn’t see how weak I felt. “Have a good lunch.” I nodded to him and stepped into the elevators. As soon as the door closed one of the interns inside turned to me. “We have the same taste! Christian Louboutin makes the best purses. I have that exact —” “Don’t do that,” I said as the doors opened to the ground floor. “Don’t make up a lie in order to get close to me. Especially one you aren’t confident

in. This it isn’t a Louboutin. The shoes are, but the bag is Oscar. There are only three in the world and I have two.” When I stepped out, I partially turned to her. “You aren’t the first intern who rode the elevator all day hoping to coincidently hand me their work. If your work is good, and you work hard here, it will eventually end up on my table. Don’t try to lie your way ahead with me…I hate that.” I nodded to her before I turned and walked towards the exit where my town car was waiting. The wind swirled around me as I stepped through the revolving doors and, without a word, I slid into the backseat of the car. Putting my purse beside me, I pulled off my gloves and reached for my headphones. Taking a deep breath, I pressed play. “Esther!” He laughed. “How I wish I could hear you scream ‘Grandpa!’ back at me, I apologize…I apologize that I’m not with you. I’m not there to tell you Happy Birthday, Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year. I wish I was. But sometimes wishing isn’t enough. Action is needed. So I acted. But

sometimes acting isn’t enough. You need faith. You need to trust yourself. I knew when I sent you to Malachi that it would be the last time I saw you. But I wasn’t upset. I was happy because I knew you wouldn’t be alone. I knew you’d laugh. I knew you’d do what you always did and make everyone around you feel…joy.” Pressing pause, I pressed my head against the window. Sorry, Grandpa…I had no more joy to give.

MALACHI “Welcome to the Big Apple!” The flight attendant smiled at us as I, and the rest of the first-class passengers, exited the plane. “I wish I could stay. I’m only connecting. Where do I find flight NW343?” an elderly man with a cane asked her. “Sir,” I nodded to him and he looked at me. “I’m heading there. Would you like to follow me?”

“Ahh! Yes please.” I took hold of his carry on. “No, it’s alright.” “Don’t worry, I got it.” Walking forward I waited for him to follow and when he did, he walked slowly. “Did you know that over one hundred and fifty thousand people transit through JFK per day? That’s big enough to be its own city.” “I didn’t know that,” I said as I tried to avoid the mass of people going in the opposite direction. “But I believe it.” JFK was always busy. It was one of the busiest airports in the world and because of that, it was a gateway to the world. The last place I wanted to be was in the Big Apple. In fact, my flight was supposed to connect through Montreal, but because there was freak snowstorm covering the city we’d been redirected here. Two more hours. Two more hours. “Sorry.” “Excuse me.” A few people said as they bumped into me.

Some didn’t even say a word they just kept staring at their cellphones. “There are only three things that send a man to Italy,” the old man said in front of me. I noticed that no one seemed to bump into him as we made our way through the airport. I guess people were more careful around the elderly. It seemed to be a good perk to being old. “Art, food, and love. Which are you going for?” My eyebrow rose at the thought of that, then looking down at the top of his balding head I asked, “Which are you going for? The art?” “What’s life if you can’t have all three?” “Then I too am chasing all three,” I lied though I knew he could tell. “The gate isn’t far.” I nodded up ahead at the gate number. But I paused when I saw my name on a stand with my novel, River of Velvet. I stared at the deep red cover with the Arabic-styled writing in gold for a moment. “My daughters love his work; they tell me all about them. I didn’t realize he was so popular,” he said as he looked up at me. “Apparently not. No one is buying a copy.”

The moment I said it, he took a copy, walked inside and handed it to the woman behind the counter. She smiled at him and gave him the book and his receipt. “I’m a sucker for a good romance.” He grinned as he flipped through the pages. “It’s a shame his books end so tragically.” “Yes. It’s a tragedy. We should get going—” “Have you read any of his work? It’s really a shame that the characters are a bit foolish.” “Excuse me?” I paused staring at him. Without a care in the world he repeated, “For some reason all of this author’s protagonists and their lovers are always a bit foolish. Brave and kind, but foolish. They don’t act when they are supposed to act. They stay when they should go. They make little mistakes that throw off the whole course of their lives.” “They are human, of course they make mistakes, and it’s not always their fault, others—” “Yes, others intercede and try to keep them apart. That’s part of the tragedy…but…never mind, I’m still rooting for them.” He smiled as he began to

walk forward and I walked slowly beside him… more frustrated than before…never mind what? “I don’t think we’re going the right way.” He paused as he looked to his right and then his left as the crowd broke up between us. “NW343 is that—” “Sorry!” the woman said quickly, as her bag snagged on the duffle bag that was slung over my shoulder causing everything in it to fall to the ground right beside my feet. “It’s fine.” I bent down to help her pick up her things and that was when my hand reached for the book…an all-too-familiar worn out and dog-eared copy of Sophocles’ Antigone. I picked it up and I could feel the rising pressure around my heart. I didn’t need to look up to know it was her but I did. There she was, right in front of me, her blonde hair now dyed an auburn brown color. “Li…Li-Mei?” Her head snapped up at the sound of her name and she stared at me wide-eyed. “Malachi Lord? Hi!” She stretched out her hand but I stood up ready

to bolt if I had to. Yet still I couldn’t look away from…. “Talk about déjà vu! Are you in New York for the Autumn Ball? It’s been chaotic since they moved the date up.” She kept talking but my eyes were glued to the child that was strapped into the carrier on her chest. Something wasn’t right. In all of our lives she’d never gotten pregnant, let alone had a child. No matter what history had thrown our way— “Say hi, Glen.” She took the boy’s hand and waved at me. Unamused he pulled his hand away and seemed about to cry. She bounced him up and down before reaching out for the book in my hand. “Esther will kill me if I do any more damage to this book.” “Esther?” It was Esther’s! She looked at me like I was insane, a look I was familiar with, but at this moment I didn’t care. “Yes, Esther. Are you alright? Every time we meet you act like you’re on the verge of a having a mental breakdown.”

“Sorry.” I shook my head and stretched my hand out to her. I needed to see…I needed to know. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to properly introduce myself last time. I’m Malachi Lord, thank you for working so hard on my behalf.” She smiled and shook my hand. “Nice to properly meet you too, Malachi. And thank you for saving my mother that time.” I was holding her hand. I was holding her hand and yet I felt nothing. When she let go I felt nothing. I’d felt something when I touched the book… “The book…its Esther’s?” “Sophocles’ Antigone?” She looked down at it. “Yeah. I’m working on an MFA for Creative Writing and my thesis is on it and Esther’s edition is the only one with the footnotes of—wait…why are you asking—? Shit, I’m late! I have to go! Nice meeting you again!” When she spun around she grabbed her bag and left without looking back and I felt as if the ground under my feet was breaking apart. The more I stared at her retreating form as it disappeared into

the crowd, the harder my heart began to pound. But that was nothing in comparison to the rush of memories that flooded my mind. Not of decades or hundreds of years past but simply a few months ago, and in my mind, I heard her voice clearly. “Esther Noëlle, Translation Editor at Penohxi Publishing House, retiring klutz, persona nongrata of Lieber Falls, and creator of Lord Nation online, I’m your biggest fan.” That was the first time we’d been introduced and that was what had triggered my memories, not the rings. “Malachi, this is amazing! I feel like…I like… I’m riding a horse!—” I rode my motorcycle for that exact reason. It felt like I was riding the fastest horse of all time. “You have a long lost love? Is that why your books end tragically? For some reason it didn’t work out and so now your characters can never be happy either? Is this why this new book is so hard for you to write?” She knew the answer exactly and yet didn’t realize how. “I knew Grandpa would send you. Hi, Malachi, sorry I’m so late…” And the first time she met me,

the night under the moonlight, just when she got close to me she’d fainted in my arms. She hadn’t fainted again since…it wasn’t out of exhaustion… that dazed look in her eyes, the way she looked as if she were looking right through me…it was how I was when the memories started to come back to me. “Your love, your life has inspired millions—no billions—of people to love foolishly…selfishly… unreasonably, with no regard for anyone or anything else.” “It was her…” I said so softly I wasn’t even sure if the words came from my lips… “It was her.” I broke out laughing. It was impossible and yet… Sophocles had fallen at my feet twice. Warning me twice. He didn’t just write Antigone…but he also wrote Oedipus Rex…and like him, I’m trying to avoid my fate I had created it. RUN. It was the only thing I could do, I picked up my things and made it only a few feet before I remembered the old man. But when I looked back

he was no longer there…neither was his carry on. Where in the…? Beep. Beep. “Excuse us.” A woman called up ahead from one of the carts. And there he was, sitting facing me, his nose in my book as he held on to his cane…his cane that looked like…like Alfred’s. Like the one he’d been holding in my dream… What am I thinking? It’s not possible. And yet the old man who was dressed in flannel with a large bald spot in the center of his head looked up at me and the corner of his lip turned up. “No.” I took a step forward but the sea of people quickly closed the gap the cart had created and just like that they were gone in the bustle of the airport and I was sure I was going insane. Part of me wanted to go to the gate just to make sure I hadn’t lost my sanity…instead I turned away and ran in the opposite direction as the screens above showed a picture of John F. Kennedy. His words appeared on every screen and his voice rang out in my ear as I ran. “In whatever arena of life one may meet the

challenge of courage, whatever may be the sacrifices he faces if he follows his conscience— the loss of his friends, his fortune, his contentment, even the esteem of his fellow men—each man must decide for himself the course he will follow. The stories of past courage can define that ingredient— they can teach, they can offer hope, they provide inspiration. But they cannot supply courage itself. For this each man must look into his own soul. John F Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States… Thank you for choosing JFK International Airport. Tell us your destination…there is no place we can’t get you.” Her. It had always been her. It was the only place I could think of going and the only person who could get me to her was… “Li-Mei!” I grabbed her arm and she stared at me wide-eyed and terrified. “I’m sorry but I need your help!” I couldn’t run from this…from her. Everything wasn’t coincidence. It was fate. Our fate.

16. SURVIVE, BE GREAT. ESTHER Walk slowly. Don’t trip. Don’t smile too much. You can do this Esther. You can do this. “Are you nervous?” Adith asked as he made sure that not a single thread was showing on the beading of my gold-stitched waist-styled dress. “This is your first time coming without your grandfather, right?” I stared at him for second unsure of what to say so I looked back out the window at the slowly moving queue. Even through the heavily tinted windows the flashes made me dizzy. All the cameras, the crowd along the sidelines…it didn’t make me nervous. No. It terrified me. The longer I looked out the heavier my heart pounded against

my chest. My hands were balled into fists and my nails dug into my palms as I tried to control my breathing. “I can’t do this,” I whispered shaking my head. “Why am I doing this?” “You said it was because your grandfather never missed the Autumn Gala and you didn’t want people to forget him—” “I know what I said!” I hollered, and as I placed my hands over my face, my breathing came out in a short gasp. Everyone who was anyone would be here and I was sure they would all look perfectly amazing. The most artistic created an iconic look for themselves that left people going, ‘did you see what she wore to the Autumn Gala?’ for weeks and have everyone asking next year, ‘you think she’ll top it for the Met in May?’ The Autumn Gala had started as a follow-up annual fundraiser for the publishing world. It was to New York what the Oscars were to Hollywood. After the Metropolitan Museum of Arts opened one of the largest literary collections, it was now one of the biggest social events in New York for authors,

agents, screenwriters, publishers, and even directors. I’d gone twice before with my grandfather when I was around the age of twelve. Other than that, this wasn’t my world. My grandfather…me…I was just…I was just Esther Noëlle. “I can’t do this! Why am I here? I’m not a celebrity. I don’t want to be here. Excuse me! I’m sorry, can we turn—?” It was too late for that. Tears formed in my eyes as the door opened and I could see the long red carpet that had been rolled out. The lights of the cameras flashed neverendingly. “Ma’am?” The doorman asked waiting for me. Swallowing the lump of fear in my throat I reached out to take his hand. My ankle-strapped heels first touched the step of the car before touching down on the carpet. Adith, held on to the train of my dress, spreading it behind me on the carpet. “Pose,” he whispered up to me. I glanced around at the cameras but I wasn’t

sure what else to do so I merely put my hand on my waist and gave them a small smile. “Let’s go,” I whispered as I swept my hair back over my shoulder and walked forward. I didn’t want to take pictures and I was sure they didn’t want one of me either. Adith stood just off to my right and I smiled without really caring while I walked slowly forward. Each step I took reminded me of my grandfather, and each step forward without him felt as if I was leaving him behind. It hurt. All of it hurt. I wanted to go home. I wanted to cry. My eyes were already burning and my vision blurred but I held back. I prayed and fought for the strength to hold them back and it worked. I couldn’t just run past the other actors and actresses, and so when they stopped I stopped so that my picture could be taken, but at some point it felt like I was walking in darkness and I could only see three feet ahead of me.

“Watch your—” I didn’t realize it until it was too late. I’d stepped on my own dress as I tried to climb the stairs and before I could stop myself I was falling towards the red carpet. My hands instinctively stuck out however they touched nothing. “Must you fall each time we meet, Ms. Noëlle?” I hadn’t closed my eyes for more than a second so I wasn’t sure how I’d found myself in this situation…no, not in this situation but in his arms. How was it that I was in Malachi’s arms? How was it that Malachi just happened to be here? But he didn’t look like Malachi. If it weren’t for his piercing blue eyes and his scar that ran across one of them I’d never would have believed that it was actually him. His hair was cut shorter and styled and he was rocking the most perfect five o’clock shadow. But the biggest change of all was the velvet suit and bow tie he wore. “My arm is getting tired. Do you mind standing now?” He smirked at me. Rolling my eyes, I held on to him as I stood

straight. Adith rushed over to fix my dress but Malachi shook his head and did it himself. Staring at him, I was unsure if I was dreaming or losing my mind. I watched as he flared out the train before he rose and offered me his arm. When I didn’t take it, he took my hand and put it on his arm. Holding his arm up above mine and we continued walking. “You might have forgotten but I’m not the best conversationalist. It’s even worse if the other person doesn’t speak,” he said as he paused and turned to take a picture with me. I turned towards the camera and stared blankly into the lens before I remembered to smile. “Esther, say something please,” he whispered as we began to walk again. “You’re really here?” It was more of a question to myself than him. “I am.” “How?” It wasn’t like anyone would just get an invitation— “I was invited. Alfred always made sure I got one.” When he said my grandfather’s name he smiled but not out of happiness. He smiled like I

smiled when I thought of him…which made me wonder if he hurt like I hurt whenever I thought of my grandfather. Without another word, we walked into the museum without stopping to pose for any more pictures. The security guard watched us for a moment as we entered and moved in the opposite direction of the Gala but he didn’t bother us. My heels clicked on the granite ground and the classical archways around us mirrored those of Rome or Ancient Greece making it feel as though were walking back in time with each step we took. We walked until we stood under the glass ceiling. In the center of the room was a sculpture, most of it fractured, that was missing both its arms and its right leg. The white stone was now aged and browning. “Do you know why these are here?” he asked as he paused to look up at the beheaded, armless, marble statue of Aphrodite. “They’re…beautiful and historic,” I answered. Though part of me wondered why I was allowing him to just whisk me away. Why was I standing

with him? Why I was still holding on to his hand. And part of me knew the answer as to why I didn’t ask these questions. I feared that he’d just vanish if I did…and I’d be alone again. “Beautiful and historic,” he whispered with a smirk before he led me forward again. “Once upon a time they were neither beautiful nor horrid but simply a representation, a mirror, of the person they were created for…it was their way of taking photographs. And now they are here and deemed great simply because they survived throughout history.” “You don’t think they are worthy of being great?” I asked softly. No one else was around, with the exception of a few guards, and I didn’t want my voice to echo. “There were much better sculptures in ancient Greece…and Rome.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, in one of your past lives you were a sculptor?” “Exactly.” He grinned down at me. “Well, your work should have survived,” I teased. “They might not be as great as the ones of

ancient Rome or Greece. But who’s going to know? Among all of the art back then, they survived and now the world only looks to them because we can’t appreciate something that isn’t there…so survival in itself is greatness.” “And those who survive without wanting to?” He looked down at me as we crossed over toward the African Art exhibits. “They are great twice over. Could you imagine a car that doesn’t want to have fuel in it? And just as it’s on its very last drop of oil, the tank automatically refills itself. Everyone in the world would want the car.” “Everyone but Mother Nature.” He frowned and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously, how can you still be so negative?” “It’s a gift.” He shrugged. “Some gift alright!” I muttered as I paused to shift my gown and take off my heels, but I’d forgotten that they were strapped to my ankle and was forced to let go of him. But before I could bend down he dropped to one knee. “What are you doing?” I dropped my dress

quickly. Then joked. “Sorry I’m not ready for marriage—” “Your feet hurt. I got it. Lift.” “You don’t have to be bossy. And don’t comment on my feet either.” Urgh! I felt so embarrassed as his hands softly touched the back of my calf as he undid the buckle around my ankle and allowed me to slip my foot out and onto the bare ground before he worked on the other. “Thank you,” I whispered. I was glad that he didn’t say anything, he just stood back up and held my shoes in his hands. I took them from him and held them to my side. I wanted to say…to ask him what was going on, but again fear stopped me because I knew I was dreaming and I didn’t want to wake up. So when he offered his arm I took it once more. We walked towards the exhibit and paused at the first one—a pair of long black ivory masks and I thought of a question I could ask. “Obinna the Great and his love, Adaeze? I knew nothing about them other than the fact that they were African royalty who led an army that

defeated the English.” He stopped and looked up at the African painted shield which had been woven together as if it were one giant shield that hung over our heads. “Rumm…bahk…rumah…bacokka…rumm…” Looking down from the shields as he whispered —no, chanted—softly up at then. His face was determined but void of emotion. Just by simply closing his eyes and opening them he relaxed, though didn’t smile nor did he look down. “Most men, throughout history, who were given the title of the greatness, earned it through the ability of conquest. Whether it was Alexander the Great or Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent, history remembers them as kings who expanded their empires to touch the corners of the known world and still they wanted more.” “What then made Obinna great if he wasn’t a king or didn’t conquer anything?” I asked and he finally looked to me, with pain in his eyes. “If it hurts you too much to talk about it, you don’t—” “Obinna the Great was not a king, but the son of a goat farmer and as such…”

His voice drifted off as he glanced around at the artifacts. I let go of his arm and he looked down at me confused for a moment until I sat down on the bench. “Even in my dreams I’m too lazy to stand.” I smiled as I tucked my feet under me and sat in a very unladylike manner on the bench. “You think you’re dreaming?” “Shh…” I put my finger over my lips. “I don’t want to think. I can’t be positive if I think too much nowadays. If I start thinking I’ll wonder, why you’re here. Even if you got an invitation you’ve always gotten one and never came. So why now? I’ll end up going down a rabbit hole of questions and I’ll lose out on hearing about the love story of an African princess and a goat farmer.” He fixed his gaze on me as he undid his bowtie. “You do know these stories do not have a happily ever after?” “Smudge and waterproof eyeliner along with mascara.” I pointed to my face proudly. “Also you’re technically still here so if anything it’s just a prolonged happily ever after.”

I was expecting one of his snarky comebacks but there wasn’t one. Instead he merely grinned. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” “Come, Mr. Lord!” I tapped my wrist. “I have a seven a.m. meeting so I can’t afford to spend all night dreaming about you.”

MALACHI I wasn’t sure if she really believed she was dreaming or not. I’d hoped she would remember as we walked through history—the ruins of our history —and yet she still seemed clueless. It was both frustrating with her and myself. Frustrated with her for not remembering…frustrated with myself for wanting her to remember when I knew what could…what would happen… “The year was 1684, and there was not a soul throughout Igboland who hadn’t heard of the disappearances—the beast that came and stole men, women, and even children from the world,

whether day or night. Sisters were missing, brothers were dead and tears soaked the earth as fear slithered from village to village. Elders, Kings, and men came together from all across the land. And in desperation, only one answer could be found, that which elevated Obinna to greatness…”

8th Onwa Asato (August) 1684 – Okwu Village, Igboland, Nigeria “Chizoba, walk!” I commanded the stubborn old white goat with black spots around its eyes as if it were some warrior, yet still she pulled none of her own weight and instead stood there happily chewing on the grass, not at all caring that her back legs were sinking into the mud. “Go ahead now.” I threw my hands up in frustration. “Eat. Take your time. I’ll wait.” Walking from behind her, I dusted off my hands and feet as I sat by the grass she was eating and shook my head at her. She ate as if we deprived her of food. “Chizoba, hey…are you the only goat in

Obokwu? Why now? Why? Every time I turn my face you’re running someplace. Look!” I lifted my feet to show her. “You make me run more than my own father’s switch. Are you not ashamed?” She cried out as she began to slip further back into the mud but only because it made it harder for her to eat. “Ahh! See? Good for you!” I nodded to her as I rose from the grass and moved into the mud behind her. This time when I pushed under her legs she struggled and was able to free herself but instead of waiting for me the selfish goat began to run once more. “Chizoba!” I ran after her. At least this time she ran towards the village. She cleared a path through the tall grass as she ran, which was how I always knew the way she went. I stayed low. My plan was to capture her and throw her over my shoulder. I was tired of her games but as I moved forward I saw the smoke rising in the distance. The sound of lightning… The words of my father came to mind: if you hear the sound of lightning coming from the rod of

a white hand run, run and warn the others. Again, I heard it, and yet, instead of running from it, I ran towards it. Leaving Chizoba in the grass I leaped over the stones of our land and ran towards home. My hands touched the brown walls and I looked around to see my father and my brother fighting, but the rods of lightning shot smoke and fire into the air. Reaching for the dagger that hung from my waist, I drew it and prepared to fight. But before I could step forward his calm old eyes, clear like the sky, stopped me. He and every man and woman were armed and ready to fight these beasts of men that we’d long heard whispers about. He offered me one word. The only word that could be offered if this were to happen. Run. So I ran. I ran so that I could do what I’d been told to do—warn them all. I ran and ran even as the lightning came chasing after me. I did not know the language they squawked as they sent their fire at me. In the corner of my eyes I saw Chizoba running alongside me, however she could not escape their

fire and fell. Her wailing was the last thing I heard as her white coat was stained with red. I cried out as I tried to cover my eyes when pieces of the tree showered down in front of me. I fell face down onto the rocks. Blood pooled in my mouth and moments later I could feel the pain spread across my face. Reaching up I placed my hand over my eye. Obinna, run. Run my son, run! I heard my father’s voice. Spitting the blood out of my mouth, I picked myself up and ran. My feet carried me further and further away and soon I came upon another village. Yet I did not stop. Instead, I reached down and took the piece of cloth at my waist and waved it in the air so they would know… the beast had come. The women who had children grabbed them and the men and the others grabbed their spears. I wished to speak with them but I could not. I ran. I ran for my father. Even if my legs would burn, even if my heart would stop, I would run. Each village I ran through I waved the cloth for them to

see, the sun began to fall and the moon rose over the plains. It was all I could do. And just as my body began to fall forward, arms caught hold of me. “Brother.” I lifted the cloth to them one final time before falling over.

11th Onwa Asato (August) 1684 – Bikjga Village, Igboland, Nigeria “You are awake?” Her voice was….so familiar. Like a voice I had heard a dozen times in my dreams. I opened my eyes and saw her kneeling over me. Her brown eyes stared down at me and when she smiled my heart leaped. My mind reeled with memories beyond my control. Reaching up I touched my face and felt the healing paste that had been put over it, but it was too late…I remembered. “Tell the elders,” the woman called out to the other women I hadn’t noticed behind her. “You did well. Rest,” she said as she tried to push me back down. However, the moment her

hands touched my skin she jumped and pulled her hands away as she frowned. I knew by the confusion on her face….it was her. “What is it they call you?” I asked. She looked away from her hands to me. “Princess Adaeze of Bikjga.” It was then that I noticed the orange beads upon her arms and neck and the scarf that had been tied and twisted to keep her dark hair up…in this life she was a princess. “As Princess, I must give thanks—” “He’s awake.” The elder arrived. His long beard was white and gray and his waist was covered with the same red cloth that she wore, just like his neck and arms bore the same orange beads as hers. “Yes, father.” She rose and backed away from me, allowing him to come forward. I tried to rise up but couldn’t move. The woman in the tent moved forward to help. Placing his hands upon my shoulder he said, “Obinna of Okwu, he who ran from dawn to dusk and dusk to dawn. We must give thanks. We must

celebrate this greatness. Rest my boy, your father smiles on you.” “My father? My brothers?” I asked him. “Father said there were no greater warriors than those in Bikjga, it’s why—” He patted my shoulder. “We could not make it to the village in time.” My shoulders dropped and I saw their faces in my mind—my father’s face. “Were they taken?” He shook his head. “Your family shall forever be sons of this soil. They stood and fought.” They were gone and yet relief filled me. I did not know what to say to this feeling. I was not sure if I was even speaking aloud anymore. All I knew was that I did not want to be laying down, but when I tried to stand up my legs trembled and shook as the pain in them grew ever more present in my mind. “Mama!” She called out as she rushed outside of the hut. The Elder got up as an even older woman entered. Her brown skin was so wrinkled that the folds of her eyelids made her eyes droop. Her head was covered with a brown scarf and the

ring of beads around her neck far surpassed those of the princess who helped bring her closer to me. I tried to show respect…but the pain. The princess tried to get her attention but the elder merely lifted her hand briefly revealing a yellow dust within her palm before she blew it into my face. Coughing, I inhaled and went back to sleep…

12th Onwa Asato (August) 1684 – Bikjga Village, Igboland, Nigeria “Obinna…I can see that you are awake,” Princess Adaeze said amused. Opening my eyes, I thought she was the one who was rubbing my legs. But instead I found Mama hovering over me. Mama tilted her head to me as my eyes widened in surprise, and I sat up on my elbows. “Hum…” Looking toward the wall, I saw her hard at work grinding herbs into a jar. A small smile lingered on her lips and I couldn’t help but smile

back. It was then that I felt the pressure on my legs again. Shifting my gaze to Mama she stared at me unmoving. “She wants to know if you are in pain,” Princess Adaeze said while Mama kept looking at me. Shaking my head no, she pressed harder. Again I shook my head. Shifting down to my feet, she dug her longest nail into my foot and I flinched. She smiled at that and nodded to herself before she looked to Princess Adaeze who spoke for her. “She says you have recovered.” Rising from her work she came over to help Mama up and the Elder put her hands to my face nodding over and over again. “She’s proud of you and you are strong.” I nodded back to her. “Thank you.” Princess Adaeze helped her up before she walked back to the corner wall and sat down on the cow skin hide. Picking up whatever she’d been grinding she placed it into her drink. I was able to sit up now and I reached up to touch my face. The paste was now gone but I now had an all-too-

familiar scar on my eye. “How are you feeling?” Princess Adaeze asked as she kneeled in front of me and gave me the wooden cup. Taking it, I drank and immediately regretted doing so. “It’s horrible we know,” she laughed at me while I coughed at the vile liquid. She pushed the cup towards me and urged me to keep drinking. “But this is good for the body, it makes one live long. Mama drinks nothing else but this.” I could help but lean in and whisper, “How long has she lived?” With a laugh, she pretended to whisper but spoke loudly, “So long that she’s heard all that needs to be heard and no longer hears.” That meant whispering was pointless which was why she was laughing. I enjoyed her laughter. Her face, her… When I did not speak, she frowned and her big brown eyes looked me over carefully. “Why do I know you…when I do not know you?” she asked.

I could not answer as the battle cry that came from outside the walls of the hut drew her attention away from me. “I must go. Stay. Rest.” She got up quickly and took the herbs she’d made with her as she disappeared through the hanging skin that served as the hut’s door. She moved with such great speed it felt as though she was gone in the time it took me to blink. “To be ruler of Bikjga, you must serve Bikjga.” Mama’s voice was so soft I wondered how I’d heard it over the roaring voices. She’d spoken not to me but to herself, nodding again as she drank. She did not look at me. Finishing the horrible drink, I pushed myself up from the ground and limped towards the doorway. She did not stop me from leaving. And when I drew the hide door back, the sun was blinding, causing me to shield my eyes but not my ears. “Rumm…bahk…rumah…bacokka…rumm…” The warriors chanted as they arrived back into the village, many carrying their brothers who could not carry themselves on the backs of their shields. In

the midst of it all, Princess Adaeze stood tall with a wall of women behind her. They all held jars in their hands and she commanded over them, telling them where to go as they shared their herbs for all. I watched as everyone in the village emerged from their homes, from the bushes, from far and close to see them. “Rumm…bahk…rumah… bacokka…rumm…” They chanted loudly. The biggest of them—a man whose brown skin was torn, bleeding, and covered in sand—looked to the sky and screamed, “VICTORY!” Lifting his shield, everyone lifted their voices as they cheered. “We shall not go!” He flipped the spear in his hand and drove it into the earth. “I, Prince Banjoko of Ife, will not go! They shall go! THEY SHALL GO!” The ground shook with their voices. Flipping his shield as he had flipped his spear again he slammed it into the earth. His chest rose and fell in rage, hope, and certainty of purpose. Princess Adaeze, the only one who seemed calm, handed him a cup, but before she could move on to another man he took her hand and lifted it up with his.

Everyone bowed their heads with respect and the words of Mama came to my ears once more...To be ruler of Bikjg,a you must serve Bikjga. “Adaeze…” I instinctively whispered her name and in the midst of the uproar her eyes snapped to my mine as if she had clearly heard me…no…she had clearly heard me. The longer she stared the stronger I felt it. That rope, that pulse, that ache, which wrapped around my heart and connected to hers. “I know you.” *** Blinking, I looked away from the shields above me. I glanced back to her and though she was tearyeyed, she stared at me seriously as she reached up to touch the side of her head. Pushing herself up, her bare feet touched the ground once again. “Was she married to someone else?” I shook my head. “If she were married she would’ve been Queen. In Bikjga, the man and woman whom the villagers believed were the most

worthy were the prince and princess, when they marry they became king and queen. But Adaeze soon remembered who I was, and from there… everything fell apart.” “The slavers came.” I didn’t want to go any deeper into the past… not when I knew she’d be dragged there on her own soon now. “You’re annoying. You know that, right?” She sniffled. I raised my eyebrow at her. I was more amused than bothered. “How so?” “I’m supposed to be mad at you,” she said as she stood directly in front of me. “You lied to me. I didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandfather. You didn’t come to his funeral. You never even called to ask if I was alright. I’m the one who’s been hurt, so why do I keep worrying about you? Why am I always thinking about you?” “Because,” I reached up to cup her cheek, “that’s how love works, Esther. You think of me before yourself and I think of you before myself.” She laughed which was the worst response to a

confession. Her laughter faded and her smile dropped as she stared at me. “Now I know I’m dreaming! You don’t love me. You’ve loved the same woman nine hundred ninety-nine times—” “And now one thousand,” I whispered as I placed both my hands on the sides of her face. She stared up at me in shock. “Li-Mei…” “Not her. You. You, Esther Noëlle. I ran to the mountains and you still found me. I’ve never been able to escape you,” I said trying my best not to give in to my own tears of joy and pain. “I can’t. I don’t want to. You’ve been the greatest love of my life a thousand times, and I now remember why… because without you I have no sun. I’m overwhelmed by darkness. I can’t laugh or breathe without you. I live because of you.” “Malachi…you’re making a mistake again—” “You want proof?” She wordlessly regarded me before nodding her head. I tilted her head back and glanced at her full, slightly parted lips before I bent down and kissed

her. It was in that moment when my lips touched hers I remembered why I’d looked for her over and over again. Kissing her…kissing her made me whole again. It warmed my soul. She was the sun of my existence. Without her I was cold and dead on the inside. ESTHER It was as though the ground beneath me broke away when he kissed me. I was falling and he was falling with me. All around me I felt the sun rise on us. I felt snow and rain and the wind blowing. I felt the sand under my feet, then grass, and I couldn’t help but hold on to him tighter. I couldn’t help but kiss him back, and with a longing unlike anything I’d felt before, I gave into his kiss and slowly opened my mouth. The world changed around us and each time it did my heart ached. I wanted to laugh and cry and sing and dance. Emotions flooded me and it made breathing, thinking, and almost everything else painful. Pain… so much pain.

2nd Onwa Ite Na Ni (September) 1684 – Obofia Forest, Igboland, Nigeria “Banjoko! NO! NO!” As I ran forward to stop him, the distance between me and Obinna seemed to span as wide as the oceans. At my voice, Obinna turned around just as Banjoko’s spear went through his chest. “AHHH!” I screamed and the distance, now that it was too late, became short again. As I reached him, he fell. “Obi! Obi!...ahh….” Unable to speak he reached up to touch my face. “No…no…” Rocking back and forth I held on to him. “You can’t save him. Take my hand. They’re coming!” “CURSE YOU!” I screamed as I smacked his hand away. And when he moved to grab me I pulled the knife and held it to my neck. “You can’t save me! Go! GO!”

He stood there but when he saw the fire rising from the village he backed away slowly. “Adaeze…” Ignoring him, I held on to Obinna and continued rocking back and forth.

JULY 4th 1781 - Guanajuato, New Spain “Ana!” Carlos leaped from his balcony to mine and grabbed hold of me, pulling me away from my father, who was staring at me in shock as he backed away and let the knife drop from his hands. “Papa…” I wanted to tell him…ask him why… but I couldn’t and my legs gave out as Carlos lowered me to the ground while screaming at Papa. “Help! Get help!” He pressed his hands against my chest as he tried to stop the bleeding. It hurt…it all hurt. Reaching up I took his bloodied hand. “I’ll…see you…again.” “ANA NO! Please. Please Don’t… ANA!!” I

felt his tears on my face. *** “Ahh…” I cried out as I broke away from him. I was shaking and trying to breathe, trying to stand, but I couldn’t seem to do either any longer. All of me hurt. He held on to me tightly. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I have you,” he whispered. “I’ve always had you, Esther. I always will.” My mind went blank and the pain stopped.

17. THE BLITZ ESTHER I sat up on my bed like I’d come up from the grave and looked around. Thankfully, I saw the giant windows of my room which overlooked the bright city lights. I was seated in the middle of my bed, still dressed in the gold beaded dress from the…the gala. Running my fingers over the beading, all the memories of this night came into my mind, and the more I remembered, the further my fingers rose until I was touching my lips. “Shit!” My head snapped towards the door as I slowly slid off my bed and tiptoed across the floor. I tried to silently open it but I’d forgotten how badly and loudly it squeaked—something that had served my grandfather as a safety precaution if I ever tried to sneak out. I closed my eyes as if that would make me disappear.

“You don’t have to sneak around, it’s your house,” he said and I immediately recognized his voice. I opened my eyes to make sure my ears weren’t playing a cruel joke on me, and sure enough there he was, standing in my kitchen in what was left of his suit—his black pants, white shirt which was rolled up on at the selves and unbuttoned at the collar, and his bow tie which was undone. In his hands, he held my yellow mug. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I was looking for coffee,” he snickered at himself. I stared at him for a quick moment before I stepped back and closed the door. Holding on to the door knob I took a deep breath. One. Two. Three. When I opened the door, he was still there staring at me, eyebrows raised. “Good to see you’re still a little bit odd.” “How…you…I have questions,” I said as I stepped out of my room.

“Can I have some coffee first?” He lifted the cup to me. “I don’t have coffee in the house…wait, no! First question, how did you get into my apartment?” “I have a key. What do you mean you don’t have coffee?” He looked at me like I was the insane one meanwhile I hadn’t seen or heard from in months! Now here he was in my apartment… wait. “Why do you have a key?” I asked as I walked towards him. He shrugged moving back into the kitchen, “Alfred gave me one in case of emergencies. I figured that his granddaughter fainting in my arms again was a good enough reason to make use of it.” Fainting. Again I remembered… “Yes, we kissed. And yes, you did faint,” he said as he hunted through the cabinets in search of coffee. “And I brought you home, but not without getting quite a lot stares and a few questions from the museum security, your assistant, and your

driver…all of which you slept right through. No one ever talks about that part in the movies.” My head hurt. Sitting on the chair behind the kitchen island, I put my hands on the side of my face. “Knew it!” he declared when he looked into a very old box of my grandfather’s oatmeal raisin cereal and triumphantly pulled out a bag of coffee. “Alfred is to blame for my coffee addiction. There was no way he wouldn’t have any.” Even though I was confused and tired I laughed. “The old man was hiding it from me. I told him to stick with decaf! And he’d always say—” “There is no point to coffee if there isn’t caffeine,” he finished. Turning back to me he pointed up to the fixture that hung over the kitchen island. “Let me go home to my pots,” he said in a mocking tone. “Are these the cooking pots you were talking about? The ones you’re using as decorations?” “Hey!” I pointed at him. “That was different!” “How so?” “You didn’t have pots and the closest restaurant

is a few miles away and no one out there delivers! Here I could get warm soup within minutes.” “So why have pots at all—” “Because I could decide to cook at any time.” He took one of them down and showed me the shiny stainless steel underside. “When is anytime? Because it looks like these have never seen a stove.” I glared at him but he just gave me that smug grin of his as he moved over to the sink to fill it with water. I watched for a moment. He walked around my kitchen with ease like he’d been here a thousand times before. He was so relaxed…and happy. He didn’t seem to walk like the world was on his shoulders anymore. It was as if he was just a normal guy who wanted to have some coffee at his girlfriend’s place. But he was not a normal guy. And I was not his girlfriend. “You kissed me!” I said and he froze for a moment but he kept his back turned to me. “You said you’d made a mistake, and you kissed me.” “I did,” he said softer and much more serious

now as he poured the coffee into the boiling water. “Malachi.” I took a deep breath. “This is crazy! You can’t just show up like this! You can’t just… say everything you said and pretend like it’s normal! I’m not…I’m not who you think I am and —” “When I told you the story of Obinna and Ada did you realize I was speaking in another language?” He cut me off and asked. Turning off the burner, he poured the golden brown liquid into the mug before turning to face me. “What language?” “Igbo,” he answered. He didn’t move closer to me, he simply leaned back against the counter. “You don’t know that language, and even if you did, it is not the same as modern Igbo, the one you’d learn via books or in school. It’s close but not enough for you to perfectly follow a whole story from beginning to end.” I wasn’t sure what to say because I didn’t even know modern Igbo…how then had I understood him? “Languages are all connected maybe I was able—”

“I ran into Li-Mei,” he confessed without looking away from me. His blue eyes held me in place, rendering me unable to look away. “I expected…I expected the emotions and feelings to coming rushing in. But I stood in front of her and felt nothing. And yet when I touched a worn-out copy of Sophocles’ Antigone, it felt like my heart was on fire. And it wasn’t just because that was our story too, it was because the owner of that book— you—had spent so much time reading and rereading it that you imprinted a part of yourself onto it. I touched it the first time I met Li-Mei and I mistakenly thought the book was hers. Just like I mistakenly believed her rings were the reason that my memories were triggered when actuality it was the first time we’d been formally introduced in this life that did it. I was an idiot and jumped to conclusions out of fear—” “Like you’re doing now!” I wasn’t sure why I was yelling, but I felt hot all over and my heart hurt so much that it made everything else hurt too. I moved closer to him. “You could be making the same mistake with me and it’s okay because—”

“You’re in love with me?” he asked before he brought the mug to his lips. “I never said that,” I replied shaking my head. “I’m in love with you, and I’ve never fallen in love with anyone but you—” “You can’t say that!” I put my hands on my temple as I tried to breathe. “You can’t just…” I tried speaking but the pain was worse…and so was my headache. I gripped the edge of the counter… “Esther!” He grabbed on to me as I gasped for air that wouldn’t make it into my lungs. “Ahh…” My vision grew spotty and the more I tried to breathe the more it hurt. I felt him wrap his arms around me as he held me tightly. It should have made things worse but instead…instead I started to feel better. “Shhh…it’s okay. I know it hurts,” he whispered right into my ear as he stroked the back of my head. I held on to him for what felt like forever before I found the strength to breathe again. “What’s happening?” I whispered more to

myself than to him as I backed out of his arms just a bit. “The more we fight our memories the more painful it becomes,” he said as he petted the side of my face when I looked up at him. “It’s going hurt a little at first but you’ll be fine.” “This is not fine.” I shook my head and let go… I didn’t want him to leave my side though. He came over with the cup of coffee for me. “It will help with the headache. Coffee constricts the blood vessels in the brain and relieves migraines.” He placed the cup into my hand. I stared at it for a moment before taking it and drinking. “Urgh,” I grimaced. It tasted like burnt tree bark. “How can you drink this?” “Cup to lip,” the smart ass replied. “You’re such a—” “Keep drinking.” He tipped the cup a little bit. I drank until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Shaking all over I handed it back. “I’m good. My headache’s gone.” He snickered as he took the cup from me and

finished the rest. He walked to the sink and I reached up to touch my head. Sure enough, my headache was gone. “It can’t really be me…” “Why?” he asked turning back to me. “Why can’t it be you, Esther?” I didn’t have an answer other than… “I’m just me. I’ve always been just me. Now you’re telling me that I’ve been me nine hundred and ninety-nine other times?” “Yes and no.” He thought for a moment as he tried to explain. “We are different each time. Some traits come and go, like how you once loved lavender, yet now you love roses. Things take on different meanings. But you are still you. The traits that are central to who you are—a strong-willed, determined, caring and loving person, with horrible taste in guys—stays the same.” I smiled though it wasn’t funny. “So…we’re the same but different?” He smirked and I knew it was because he’d caught my slip. “Yes, we are.” “If this is all true you’re a jerk!”

“Come again?” He crossed his arms waiting. The more I thought about it angrier I became. “If this is true! That means you were running away from me! That means even if you hypothetically knew who I was to you, then you’d run even further away to avoid me no matter how I felt about it. Now, without any reason you come back and kiss me! What was the point of hypothetically avoiding me then?! You come when you want, you leave when you want—” “I fell in love with you!” He replied back. “Yes. It’s selfish of me to come back like this. But I tried, Esther! I tried to avoid you because I knew if I fell in love with you in this life I couldn’t run after that! I tried but you found me. I fell in love with you and because…because of my own stupidity everything became much more complicated. I was confused about why it was that Li-Mei was my past and yet you were all I could think about! Then she appeared in front of me and I knew it had to be you, and the second I was sure of it I couldn’t help but run towards you. Towards the same circle that I always run to. But what can I do?! Not being

around you kills me and being with you will actually kill me! So tell me, Esther, what do you want me to do? I really don’t know now. I know nothing other than I want to hold you, I want to kiss you, I want to make love to you, for as long as we have left.” He wasn’t playing fair. He couldn’t just say all of that. And the worst thing was that he’d said it so honestly and desperately… how was I supposed to respond? What was I supposed to say in the face of that? Nothing. I couldn’t say anything. “I know this is a lot to process,” he said as he moved from the sink towards me. “I’m staying in the Royal Suite at the Waldorf. So, when you’re ready and you know what you want me to do…you know where to find me. Just please stay safe, alright? Don’t go tripping in the middle of Times Square during rush hour or something.” “Contrary to your belief I’m not actually a klutz,” I automatically replied. The corner of his mouth turned up and he reached out to touch me but stopped. Balling his hand into a fist he nodded before dropping it down

to his side. “Good night, Esther,” he said gently. Reaching into his pocket he placed his key on the counter and without another word he grabbed his velvet jacket off the couch and walked out of my apartment. “Night,” I whispered back when the door clicked and the sound of it echoed in my ears. And just like that, the whole apartment felt eerily silent and cold again. Walking towards the pot he’d washed, I dried it and, just as I was about to hang it back onto the rack, I instead decided to put the bag of coffee in it and set it back on the stove before I headed back to my room. Realizing that I was still in my gown, I unzipped the back and let it drop to the ground around my feet. I didn’t care that my curtains were still open and without another thought I crawled into my bed. “Is it really…is this real?” I asked myself as I curled into a ball. Just as my eyes were about to close I heard Für Elise begin to play softly. I didn’t bother answering and instead I listened to it like a lullaby as I drifted off to sleep.

October 14, 1940 – Near Balham Underground Station, London, England “Help!” “Anyone!” All around me people screamed, they screamed and cried out to God. But in the darkness of the night, it seemed he’d closed his eyes on us. My whole body was sore as I rose from the cobblestone paved street. “Thomas!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I was missing my shoe and hat and as I limped around I could feel that my hair was clumped together and coated in blood, ash, and sweat. The smoke rose from the ground like hellfire as the buildings crumbled around me and the flames swallowed them whole. Above, what looked like a giant whale glided through the skies as fire dropped from its belly. “Help—” A man reached out his bloody hand from beneath the rubble beside me and I saw that

two of his fingers were bent at an unnatural angle. “Please help…” I reached for him but before our hands could touch he went still. “Sir?” I touched his hand and saw that it’d gone limp. “Oh…” I gasped as I backed away from him. “Nellie!” I felt his hands before I saw his face as he pulled me back into his arms. Looking up to him, I saw that his hat was gone too and there was blood in his light brown hair that had rolled down his white face over his scar. His green eyes were glazed over with fear. “Nellie!” He grabbed my hand and dragged me with him, ignoring the limp in his bad leg as he forced me to run behind him. “We need to get the shelters!” I couldn’t help looking up at the sky and at the beast that slithered through the darkness. “There are no soldiers here,” I whispered as if —as if they cared—as if they could hear me. Maybe they could because no more bombs came down.

“I have you,” Thomas whispered. He wrapped his arms around me as we ran for the shelters. “I have you too.” It was all I could think to say. I didn’t even know where to go. Buildings gave into fire and pressure and crumbled beside us, causing me to nearly trip, but he caught me. Without a word, I took off my one remaining shoe and left it behind as I ran with him once more. The city erupted around us. Smoke and glass and fragmented rocks struck us from all over. There seemed to be no one else around us, and then, no more than a foot away from me, stood a small boy covered in ash from head to toe and staring wideeyed at the sky. “Come!” I yelled at him as I stretched out my hand. But he did not move! “COME!” I yelled again and this time he ran towards me and grabbed my hand. “Nellie…” Thomas’ voice was hoarse as he looked down at the boy who now clung onto me. The boy would slow us down but I couldn’t leave him there. His voice trailed off when he looked at

me again. Without a word, he bent down and picked the boy up before he reached out to take my hand once again. Unaccustomed to this much pressure on his bad leg he ran at a much slower pace. However, there was no other way. He held my hand as we ran towards the station, and soon we spotted others in the distance waving us over. I could tell that they were yelling though I could not hear them over the beast overhead. And even as pain consumed every inch of my body, I ran towards our salvation, crying out once we were within the safety of the tunnels. Inside we could see all the people—mothers cradled their crying children while men cried over their losses. One nurse was trying to attend to the wounded but there was barely any space to walk or move around without stumbling and tripping over someone. Just as Thomas bent over to set the boy on his feet, his ash-covered hair snapped up at the sound of a voice. “Robbie?” Further down the tunnel a woman stared directly at him as the man beside her looked up

from the children he was looking over. “Ma!” The boy ran towards the woman and leaped into her arms and the father wrapped his arms around them both. She smiled at us and whispered her thanks, but it was me who wanted to thank her. She’d renewed my hope. “We’re going to make it this time, Thomas,” I whispered but he didn’t say anything. “Thomas?” I looked around to find him resting against the walls and gripping his leg. I placed my hands on his face forcing him to open his eyes. He leaned in to kiss me and I could taste the blood in his mouth. “I’m alright,” he whispered, but he neither seemed it nor looked it. He drew in a sharp breath and forced himself to say, “When it stops, run home.” “You are my home.” “Stubborn, even to the end.” He smiled but I did not. “Are we at the end?” He did not reply. “THOMAS!” His leg gave out and I reached out to catch him and as I did I felt a dampness on

his chest that was more profuse than just sweat. I helped him to the ground before I pulled back and examined my hand. I stared at it and then at the large bloody patch on his chest as my heart drummed louder and louder in my head. “Nellie.” He reached up for me. “I saw a nurse…” “I’m going to play that song for you next time. I swear it, Nellie,” he said with a smile I didn’t want to see. Just like the man in the rubble, his hands began to fall, but I gripped on and kneeled beside him. I desperately squeezed his hand so tightly my nails dug into his skin and his eyes snapped back open. “If you think I’ll allow you to leave me that easily, Thomas Gallagher, you do not know me very well,” I said kissing his hands. “Nellie Camellia Wilkinson,” he said my name slowly. “When have I ever left you? For even the angels in Heaven above and the demons down under the sea know my soul cannot desert thee.” “Poet to the end,” I whispered through my

tears. “Are we at the end?” he asked. And, as if the angels in Heaven above and the demons down under the sea, wished to punish us once more, the roof above us shook with such force that many around rose to their feet while others began to scream, and as water came rushing in from all sides, our shelter became our tomb.

MALACHI I knew she’d find me. It was why I’d left her name at the front desk. I just didn’t think it would be soon. I didn’t even have to look before I opened the door. It could only be her. She was the only one who knew I was here. What shocked me was how she looked when I opened the door. Her eyes were red and full of tears. Her hair looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed. She hugged her arms around her brown peacoat as if it was the only thing holding

her together. “Esther—” “I believe you. Can I come in?” she asked even though she didn’t need to. Moving aside, she walked in looking more broken than I’d ever wanted to see. Closing the door behind her she stood in the center of the parlor and stared at the piano in the corner. I wasn’t sure what to say to her or if she wanted me to say anything at all. All I knew was that she was in pain and that was the last thing I wanted. The moment I stepped behind her, she turned back to me and pointed to the piano. “You swore…” She bit back the sob. Biting her bottom lip, she drew in her breath before continuing. “You swore you’d play a song for me… what song was it? Beethoven’s Für Elise?” The moment the words left her mouth I knew where her mind had been. What she’d just remembered…and I felt that pain too. Stepping closer I kissed her forehead and she wrapped her arms around my waist. “Yes,” I said softly. “Do you want to hear it now?”

She nodded against me but didn’t let go and I didn’t rush her. I wouldn’t rush anything. Feeling her like this. Holding her like this. I wanted to do it for as long as possible. It made…it made all the pain worth it when I held her. “Okay.” She sniffled as she let go and stepped back. She wiped her eyes and looked back to me. “Will you play it for me? Please?” “I swore I would, didn’t I?” I said to her as I took her hand and led her across the vinery carpets towards the black piano. I sat on the bench and held my hand out for her to come sit with me. She stared at it for what felt like hours, but it was merely seconds, before she took it. Slowly she sat beside me and lifted the cover of the keys. I hadn’t touched a piano in years…I hadn’t actually played the piano for much longer than that. My hands hovered over the keys as she relaxed against me. Closing my eyes, I couldn’t help but think of how strange this world was. How so many things could advance and how so many things often stayed the same. When my fingers touched the keys, it was as if I’d practiced all my life. I

remembered every note and every key to Beethoven’s Für Elise. But what I remembered most of all was the feeling of her. Over a hundred years had passed since I’d played this for her— since we were behind a piano together—and yet it felt exactly the same. We were doing it again, picking up where we’d left off. In the middle of a love story that neither of us could control. The way she felt leaning into me, resting her head on my shoulder, right now, in this present moment, made my heart race and caused the room to spin around me. She was Esther in this life. Part of me had wondered if we weren’t…if we didn’t have the memories of our past lives, if we didn’t know that we were two souls bound together forever, no matter the time, place, or situation…would we still love one another? Would we still fall for one another and I’d gotten my answer. I belonged only to her. I was indisputably and conclusively bound to her. She was my Esther. Opening my eyes as I played the last note, my finger held the key down and the sound echoed

through the room. When I lifted my hands off the keys she lifted her head and looked up to me. The look in her eyes…there were no words that could describe it, it was like watching the cosmos unfold. “Isn’t this the part where you kiss me again?” she whispered. “Yes. But I’m not sure if I should.” I found the strength to say in the small distance between our lips. “Why?” she asked. She really didn’t know? I placed my hands on the piano cover to stop me from touching her. “Because I don’t have the strength to stop kissing you, Esther. Now that you’re here, now that I can see and feel you, I don’t have the strength to—” Before I could get the words out her lips were on mine as her arms locked around my neck and she pressed herself into me. A moan escaped the both of us as our tongues met. My hands left the piano to grip her waist as she shifted on top of me. “You don’t need the strength the stop,” she whispered as she pulled back from me. Her hands

fell from my face and began to undo the belt and buttons of her coat. When it opened, she was wearing nothing but…an oversized deep V-neck shirt “You came over like this?” I said softly staring at the mounds of her breasts. She placed her forehead on mine. “I watched you die. I felt you die…us die. I was so scared, Malachi. I didn’t think. I just had to come to you. I had to see…to feel that you were still here. So let me feel you.” It was all she needed to say. I gave in and covered her lips with mine again. Rising from the bench, I gripped her thighs as her coat fell to the floor and I walked us through the parlor, not caring that I that bumped into the corner table and lamp on the way towards the bedroom. Never had a few feet felt so far away. Laying her on the bed I took off my shirt just as quickly as she took off her bra, and before she could drop it to the side I was kissing her skin. I pushed her back down onto the sheets as I trailed my lips from her neck to the space between her breasts.

She grabbed my hair as her body arched upwards. “Mal…Malachi…” She moaned out. My name on her lips, my lips on her skin. For this moment alone I was grateful, no matter what the future held.

18. WHAT LOVERS DO ESTHER My head rested on his abs as he sat up against the headboard of the bed. The smell of sex lingered in the air around us as we laid there, naked and breathing it in. My body was aching in the best way…in ways I didn’t realize it could. How many times had we made love? Made love. I’d always laughed to myself about that phrase. Making love. It seemed so archaic, a term that only seemed to exist in between the pages of romance novels. And yet, the way he’d kissed me and held me and touched me—gentle the first time, rougher the second, and downright pornographic the third—yet all still passionate. Each thrust was a confession that gave me chills all over. It was like he knew exactly what my body needed and when it needed it… Was it because he’d been my lover so many

times before? Wait, were we actually lovers? Holding on to the sheets I turned to look up at him but his eyes were closed. As I moved to roll over he put his arm around me. His eyes opened and I couldn’t help but notice how long his eyelashes were. “What is it?” he asked softly. The gentle look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, on top of the fact that the only thing blocking him from seeing me completely naked again was a thin sheet made me lose my nerve. “Nothing.” “Okay,” he nodded and closed his eyes again but he didn’t move his arm which rested right under my breast. “Okay? You gave up easily,” I joked. He nodded and without opening his eyes he said, “When you’re ready to ask I’m sure you will. Until then I’ll just wait and try not to be tempted by you.” I put my hand on my face, I wanted to laugh, not because he was funny, but because I felt so

giddy, like I was a teenage girl or something. Biting the inside of my cheek, I ignored the second part of his statement. “I don’t know where we go from here,” I said to him and he didn’t reply so I kept talking. “I feel all lovey-dovey and it’s weird because I’ve never felt like this before. But I know that’s not true. Apparently we’ve done all of this before and that’s insane to me. All of this…is just…not only did I find out you’re …you and I’m…me and we’ve like…I just said ‘like’ unnecessarily because I’m rambling and I’m just going to think before I speak again.” I put my hands back on my face. He snickered and then just laughed. His whole body started shaking which in turn made me shake as well. “Shut up.” I frowned at him. “Sorry.” He laughed again, looking down at me. “You’re cute.” “I fell from tempting to cute?” He sat up and brushed my curls off my face. “You haven’t fallen. You’re tempting when you’re cute too.”

I held on to his wrist as his thumb stroked my face. “Stop with all the romantic talk.” “I’m being honest; I didn’t realize it was romantic.” He spoke a little softer now. “Would you like me to stop being honest?” “Would you do whatever I asked?” The corner of his mouth turned up. “You know; you ask me this question in every life we’ve had.” I do? “It’s not my fault I keep forgetting the answer.” Why was that? Why did I always forget? Why did he always remember? Why was any of this happening at all? I’d only seen one lifetime, not even the full lifetime—just the tragic ending—and the pain was unbearable. “Almost anything,” he answered, drawing me from my thoughts and based on the look in his eye, I knew he’d done it on purpose. “I’d do almost anything you asked.” “What wouldn’t you do?” He stared at me and I stared back waiting. He tried to move his hand from my face, but I held him still. “What wouldn’t you do, Malachi?”

“Kill you.” Sitting up from his stomach, I no longer cared if the sheets fell off me. I’d asked something that part of me didn’t want to know. “Have I—past me— asked you to do that?” “Yes.” “And you didn’t?” “I did.” He frowned. “In November 1599. I was a prince in the Mughal Empire and we’d been thrown into the pit of the forsaken to die together. I thought…I thought I could ease your suffering… they poisoned you…” He hung his head in shame and a sadness so deep my heart broke for him and his suffering. How many lifetimes had there been since then that he’d been bearing that burden? “Why is this happening?” “I do not know.” “When will it stop?” “I do not know.” “Are we going to die?” “Everyone dies,” he reminded me. “So yes, we are going to die. I do not know when or how.” “But it usually happens shortly after we meet,

right?” I was starting to feel panic set in. He took my hands and kissed them. “Yes, but we met months ago, Esther. This the longest it’s ever taken you to remember, so maybe…” “Maybe we won’t die until I remember everything,” I finished for him thinking quickly. “So, what if I don’t remember—?” “You’ve already started to, haven’t you?” he asked and I froze as I recalled the dream. He continued. “After the first one, the rest will come back sooner and sooner until everything floods your mind again.” “I’ll…” My voice cracked, but I need to say it. “I’ll fight it.” “How?” He frowned. “What triggered the memory you had? The music? We’ve heard so many songs together will you avoid them all? Will you give up books? Smells? Foods? You can’t.” “Why are discouraging me—?” “Because I don’t want you to give up on life. I’ve tried, Esther. I’ve tried not to remember. It’s agonizing and lonely. Remember how I was in Montana the day to took care of me? That will be

you and in the end, the memory will still force its way through.” I could never forget the pain he’d been in. How he begged not to love her—me—again. “So what do we do?” I already felt so defeated. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. “We live for as long as we can. The best as we can. We focus on us now as Malachi and Esther.” “Esther and Malachi,” I said grinning and so did he…I loved how our names sounded together. But it also made me think of all the other names that had sounded so good together. “Aren’t you scared?” He kissed the side of my head. “The moment you aren’t in my arms or in my sight I will be.” “Then don’t let me out of your arms or sight.” I shifted in order to kiss his neck. I gently bit his skin and he gasped in shock but he didn’t stay that way for long. Instead, he flipped me onto my back and pinned my hands on either side of me. “Esther—” “Malachi.”

I grinned and so did he.

MALACHI Make her happy. That was the only thing I could think to do at this point. It was the only thing I cared about. From now to the end of my life—however long or short that was—I wanted to give her as many breathtakingly magnificent memories as I possibly could. Starting from right where I’d left off the last time we were together. “Not bad.” I licked the chocolate icing from my thumb. “What in the…?” I looked up as she came into the kitchen and her eyes grew wide as she looked over the chaos I’d unleashed onto the countertops, all of which were covered in flour, baking powder, and egg shells. She stood there, dressed in only my shirt, which she hadn’t even buttoned, and her lacy

panties, forcing me to use all my strength to stay focused. Grabbing the lighter and the sorry excuse for a cake I’d made I stood in front of her. “Happy Birthday Esth?” She read out loud. “I ran out of space,” I shrugged. It was the thought that counted, right? “Malachi,” she laughed shaking her head. “You know it’s not my birthday, right?” “You wished for a birthday cake made by me so I’m fulfilling that wish,” I smirked as I clicked the lighter and held its flame above the cake. “Last year’s was not what it should have been and I’m sure this year was hard, so let’s re-celebrate it.” Teary eyed, she blew out the light and took the cake from my hand, staring down at it as if it were gold. “My wishes…you remembered.” I lifted a pen and the now butter stained paper she’d written on almost a year ago. The ink was a bit faded and the paper itself had been folded and unfolded so many times the crease in it was weak enough to be torn with ease. “You only wrote thirteen before…before

leaving. You have ten more to add, well eleven since you’re now twenty-four,” I said as I swapped the cake in her hands for the pen and paper in mine. “What?” She looked down at the paper. “See the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World,” I repeated. “We’ve seen them all—and it’s a good thing too because the only one left to actually see is the Great Pyramid.” The look on her face was hilarious. I knew when she’d written that list she was merely kidding. She’d written it not believing that I’d ever actually follow through. But if I could I would have and if it were within my power to do so I would. “When was our first life?” It was the most rational question she could have asked me and I wanted to tell her the whole story but the thing was that it was so long ago, so many lives had come and gone since that one. Of all my memories it was the weakest, the blackest. “Malachi?” I loved how she said my name. How she whispered it, how she moaned it, how she screamed it out. It was all music to my ears.

“You’ll need a knife for this,” I finally spoke again. Putting the cake down on the counter, I looked for where I’d seen the utensils. However, the moment I turned from her, she placed her hand on my back. I couldn’t help but shiver when she did. “You know, it’s funny,” she said tracing her fingers over my back, “I told my grandfather once that I didn’t know what I’d do without your words. Reading your stories always gave me strength to do better, love more, and be kinder. And he told me to be the bringer of your own happiness and optimism. Not a book. Not a man. But myself. And now I know it was myself…my past self-counseling my present one. It’s like I found a loop-hole. Grandpa, I’m not really obsessed with Malachi Lord’s books, I’m obsessed with myself and the man who loved me nine hundred and ninety-nine times over.” She kissed my spine and hugged me tightly, her hands on my bare chest. “I don’t need any other wish but to be with you.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I placed my hand over hers and tilted my head back to look up

at the ceiling. “You couldn’t have said that before I made the cake?” “And here I was baring my soul—” She tried to move her arms away but I held on to her. “You said you had an early meeting this morning, right?” I glanced at the clock…it was already five a.m. “Crap, yeah I needed to—” “Cancel.” I let go and turned around to face her. “While you were sleeping, I called and had the fridge stocked. You were right, anything can be delivered in this city. So, let’s stay for at least today.” “I thought you said you didn’t want us to stop living life?” she asked as I tugged at the hem of her panties. “I did,” I replied as I grabbed her ass and pressed her body against mine, my lips at her ears. “Today I just want to live while inside you. For the first time in our lives, from sunup to sundown, let’s indulge in one another without any interruptions.” “I’m not going to be able to walk straight, am

I?” She snickered as she played with the hem of my boxers. I couldn’t help but smirk at that. “When you can’t walk, I’ll carry you.” “You promise?” “I swear it.” “Then don’t hold back.” With pleasure. *** “Draw me like one of your French girls, Jack.” Glancing up from the sketchbook in front of me she stood in a soft pink silk robe which she’d pulled off her shoulders slightly, and she purposefully stuck out her smooth brown leg. She was the epitome of beauty but that line…I couldn’t help but laugh. “Really?” I asked between laughs. She grinned from ear to ear as she nodded and skipped over to the couch. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that line. And do this.” The moment she dropped the robe the laughter

coming out of my throat morphed into a cough, as I found myself unable to look away from the curve of her breasts and her waist. I’d seen all of her by now and yet she still sucked all the air out of my lungs without exerting any effort. “Where do you want me?” she asked as she moved over to the couch while I struggled to get the air back into my lungs. Finally, she looked to me and her confidence dwindled and slowly her arms crossed over her chest. Placing the book and my pencils to the right of me I rose from the carpet opposite the couch and walked to her as she leaned back. “You’re making this much more intense than it was in my head,” she whispered when I tilted her chin back. “Good.” Smirking I nodded as I directed. “Turn a little. Yes, like that,” Taking a few of the pillows from the couch, I hovered over her as I positioned her hips and hands. Her lips clamped down and she tried not to look at me, and because I couldn’t help myself— because I desperately craved her attention—I

tapped her chest. “Where’s your giant diamond?” I teased. She looked up to me and her eyes were like gemstones. Reaching up she touched my bare chest and allowed her hand to settle directly over my heart. “I put the most precious thing in here for safe keeping.” I looked down at her hand. “Was that wise?” “Undoubtedly,” she whispered as her voice forced me to look at her again. “You’ve kept it over and over again, even when I forget, even when… when you have no one with whom you can share the pain with…when you were alone. I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same.” There she went again…making me weak… making me feel as if we were saying hello and goodbye all at the same time. “Stay still.” I took her hand off my chest and kissed it before I placed it back over her waist. Getting up off the couch I moved back to my place and sat down. Looking up again I found her staring at me with a deep, burning intensity and while part of me

enjoyed the fact that she knew, that she felt it too— how deep and bottomless our hearts were—another part of me couldn’t bare the magnitude of that reality, I wanted to distract her, us, so we could be as we were now, just Malachi and Esther, not centuries old lovers. But she spoke before I could preserve the moment. “We were never on the Titanic.” She wasn’t asking because it wasn’t a question. She was, whether she wanted to or not, remembering. “No,” I said softly as I drew her from her feet to her face because every detail was engrained in my mind and…I couldn’t bear to just stare at her. “So I can still blame James Cameron for making me sob for whenever I hear My Heart Will Go On.” “And Celine Dion.” She giggled softly. “Right. I’m kind of shocked you know the movie or the song.” “Why?” I asked as I traced the curve from her legs to her hips. “You said you locked yourself away from the world, right?” “No,” I corrected. “I tried to. It was a constant

struggle with myself. Sometimes I couldn’t bear the silence of being alone so I’d go out hoping to find you and just get it over with. I’d listen for your voice and look for your face, in music, art, film, until the fear caught up with me again and I’d lock myself away once more. Sometimes I was determined and yet the world we live in now makes it almost impossible to avoid certain things. Music plays when you get in an elevator or walk down the street. Most times I was torn, wanting more, fearing more.” “Meanwhile I was…I was oblivious.” She fought back a sob. “Why is it I never remember?” “Maybe you aren’t supposed to,” I told her honestly, now drawing her shoulders. “Maybe it’s me. I shouldn’t remember either. But I do and it screws everything up.” “Or maybe it’s me and I’m supposed to remember sooner?” “Or maybe, or maybe, or maybe into infinity.” I smiled looking up at her collarbone before drawing again. “We could guess and speculate but it doesn’t change the fact that I do remember and you do

forget. It’s how it is and how it wi—” I froze as my grip on the pen tightened. “How it will be next time?” She finished for me as I started to draw again. “That’s what you were going to say. You don’t believe it might be different this time?” “You still found me as I tried to hide, and I fell in love with you despite my efforts not to love you. And your memories are coming back. For there to be a difference there must be a change and nothing between us has changed.” “Malachi.” I didn’t reply. “Malachi, look at me.” Sighing, I looked and she smiled though her eyes were glazed over with tears she wouldn’t let fall. “I’m never giving up on us. No matter the odds, don’t give up either. Promise me, promise you’ll believe we’ll make it this time.” I couldn’t make that promise because I didn’t have that belief. I just wanted to enjoy these moments. Our final moments.

“Promise me,” she said again, and when I didn’t say anything she got up and kneeled in front of me. Her cool hand touched my face. “Promise me, Malachi.” “I promise.” “Again.” She placed her forehead on mine. “I promise,” I said as I set the sketchpad down beside me. “One more time, for luck and so it’s not a double negative.” Chuckling I put my arm around her back and pulled her until she was in my lap. I nodded. “I promise…I swear on the most precious thing you’ve ever given me, I believe it.” Her arms wrapped around my neck and with her nose barely touching mine she said, “I knew you were in pain. I even thought you were in love with someone else, and yet I still fell in love with you. I love you, Malachi Lord. Pain or no pain, past or no past, knowing or not knowing, I still love you. I want you.” “You’re crazy,” I laughed. She pouted and before she could say anything, I

confessed what I’d wanted to tell her the moment I took her hand at the museum. “Esther Noëlle, I don’t love you just because I have always loved you. I love you because I fell in love with you—” She kissed me before I could get another word out and I helplessly kissed her back. Nothing… There was nothing else to do except love the woman I loved.

19. SOUND OF THE HUMMINGBIRD MALACHI “Your choices are Mr. & Mrs. Smith—” “REJECT!” She said it so vigorously I had to look away from the television and over my shoulder at her as she came into the room with a tub of popcorn. She glared at the screen as if the actors had personally insulted her, and when she caught me gazing at her she relaxed. “Sorry, I know it’s stupid but I was a huge Brangelina fan. I know what they did to Jennifer was horrible but I was like, when soulmates get together what can you do? Now they’re getting divorced and the rose-colored shades are off.” “Ohhh…okay then.” I nodded as I switched to the next movie.

“Crap! I forgot the wine.” She rushed back to the kitchen. “White or red?” “Either is fine,” I replied then called out. “What about The Great Gatsby?” “Also rejected! I hate The Great Gatsby!” She hollered from the kitchen. “Daisy is the absolute worst and in a whole book of horrible, vain, narcissistic people that’s saying something. But then again, looking at the author himself I can understand why everyone is viewed through such a lens.” I shook my head. “What happened to just put on anything?” “Anything is fine, just not those two,” she said as she came into the living room with a bottle of red wine in her hands. Sighing I clicked random and read the first two titles that came on screen “What about In Your Eyes or The Hummingbirds?” I waited for her to find some reason to reject them both but when she didn’t I turned back to her just as the bottle slipped from her hands and spilled all over the carpeting. I rushed forward as she fell

back. “ESTHER!” I fell to my knees and placed my hand on her head to keep it from slamming into the side table as she fell. “Ma…lachi…” “Shh,” I said as she trembled in my arms. Her jaw locked as her eyes struggled to stay open, which I knew was only going to make it worse. “Don’t fight it. It’s okay. You’re okay. Remember, you’re okay—” Her eyes shut and just like that she was sucked into whatever memory it was that she was trying so hard to repress. Her face bunched up and her body slowly turned in my arms as if she wanted to roll herself into a ball. “You’re okay,” I told her again because there was nothing I could do. Nothing but lift her up and cradle her in my arms as I carried her back to the bedroom and laid her on the sheets. I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead for a moment before I pulled the sheets over her. Watching her, I fought the thoughts that unfolded within my mind, I fought a losing battle

because each time she grimaced I wondered: Why had I come back? Why hadn’t I kept running? Why had I done this to her? “Tlah…” It was the only word she spoke before her body went limp and it was all I needed to hear to know where she was and what memory she was in. Taking her cold hands in mine, I kissed them. “I’m here, Yaretzi.”

ESTHER 1518 Huey Tocoztli, (2nd May) – The Road to Tenochtitlan, capital of The Aztec Empire. “Weetz-ee-loh-POSHT-lee. The God of the gods,” I said as we reached the top of the grassy hill which overlooked the great city and the blue waters that surrounded it on all sides. A shade of the green layer grew over the earth so that each man could farm for themselves. The only paths came from the north, south, and west. “They say he came in the

dreams of the elders, of the high priest, and showed them the city that lived on water amid the prickly pears that grew amongst the rock—the city which would become Tenochtitlan. And his home would be in its center.” I pointed to the only land within the city which did not have grass, trees, or mortal life. The land had been stripped of these things for he did not need to farm. He did not eat corn or tomatoes, nor drink the water and sweet honey of the earth. He instead ate flesh and drank blood. “Yaretzi, have you ever been inside the Great City?” asked Citlali, a girl of only ten summers old —half of my age who had a curiosity that could fill the skies. Her black hair fell barely past her back while mine was so long it almost touched the ground. “No,” I answered her question as I took her red-brown hand. “We are Macehualtin,” I reminded her. We were not worthy enough to go to the Great City. “Macehualtin today, but the sun will rise when I, Quauhtli, son of Matlal, shall awaken as a

Cuauhipiltin.” Citlali’s eldest brother lifted his clubs to the temple and hailed the sun. Quauhtli was the best warrior in our village. His hair was shaved on the sides, and the marking of his fathers showed upon his blood-brown skin. “Cuauhipiltin…” I whispered the word. I’d never seen such a warrior but I knew of them— warrior among the warriors, a title only the emperor could give, and only to one who’d proven himself most worthy. “Not if the emperor can never see you,” his sister made a joke of him and before he could even begin to return the favor, she broke from my hand and ran towards the trees. “Citlali, wait!” I yelled running after her. Her black hair was picked up by the wind and spun all around her as she ran and laughed and disappeared into the forest towards the village. “Citlali!” Twigs broke under my feet as I followed her and I worried that she’d get lost as she always did. But she had not made it far and had fallen to her knees as the warriors who wore feathers upon their heads and spears in their hands marched towards

the Great City. Rushing to her, I wrapped my arms around her and was about to bow my head as well when I heard the chains. Not one nor two, but the hands of all ten warriors were in chains. I followed the brown links until it reached the skin of the largest man I’d ever seen. So large that he blotted out the sun as he walked past me. “Down.” Quauhtli rushed beside us and kneeled as he pushed my head down to look at the ground. “They have captured Tlahuicole.” “Who?” I whispered. “The Great Warrior of Tlaxcaltec,” he said as if I should have known. “The emperor will make them all—” “FREE!” A warrior I could not see yelled until the whole forest was covered in screams. “Run!” Quauhtli yelled as he rushed into a battle that had formed while my head was down. Warriors like the large one came rushing out of the bushes, striking down the warriors of the Great City. “Citlali, come,” I called. But fear gripped her

and she would not move. But it did not matter for soon I could not move as I found a sharpened bone at my neck. “No move.” I felt the bone bite into my skin as he looked at me with. The black around his eyes made his eyes dark yellow. It was like looking into the eyes of a tree snake. “Shhh,” I whispered as I put my hand over Citlali’s face to blind her from all of this and to keep her calm. I wished someone could have done the same for me as I watched the green grass grow red. “Ahh!” The large man screamed out as he swung his chain like a club to beat the man down, and the man did not come back up. The large man, the Great Warrior, Tlahuicole, with chains still hanging from his neck and hands and feet, looked into my eyes. I knew those eyes and that scar which ran through one of them. He did not move as he stared at me and I at him. His eyes squinted as though he was not sure what to make of me. And so, I spoke first, “In this life, it will be the

last.” His eyes widened and I knew then that he was who I knew he’d be. His lips parted to speak and yet it was another voice that came out. “More come!” One of the warriors yelled as they kicked Quauhtli into the tree and raised their hand to strike him. “NO!” Citlali, who I’d forgotten was in my hands, screamed and broke free. She grabbed one of the shards from the ground and threw it to the warrior’s face. When the warrior at my neck moved his weapon from my neck to throw at her. I ran to her, hoping to push her out of the way, but instead I covered her body with my own and waited for the pain that never came. Suddenly a shadow came over us and when I looked it was him. He’d grabbed the spear by the bone and blood dripped down at his arm. “Tlahuicole!” One of the others yelled. Yet he did not speak. He nodded his head for them to leave but they refused. “Tlahuicole,” the man called once more but his voice different, warning

him. Tlahuicole did not speak, he did not move and so they, his own people, rushed to his chains and tried to pull him by force, and his fury turned towards them, to the confused the warriors of the Great City. “Run, home,” I said to Citlali as I brushed her hair from her face. She cried and so I pinched her arm as hard as I could. “Run!” She hugged me then ran into the bushes, her hair being the last thing I ever saw of her. Part of me hoped she’d turn back so that I could see her one more time but she did not and all I could do was say into the wind and hoped it would carry to her ears. “Live long. Live well. Live under the sun little sister.” “Leave him!” The snake-eyed warrior yelled and the others pulled back as more warriors ran from the Great City. Tlahuicole stood in front of me and I gazed on as they retreated back into the bushes, thankfully into the west and not the east where Citlali had gone.

When I couldn’t see them again I rose from the ground and reached for him. “NO!” Tlahuicole’s voice was deep, rough, and unnatural, like a voice unspoken until this very moment. I did not have time to ask why he’d spoken or why no had been his first word because I’d gotten my answer. Reaching up to my neck at what I thought was a bug bite, I discovered a small dart. I looked to him as I pulled it from my neck and brought it to eye level to examine it. Then I glanced up to see the horror in his eyes. “I’m fine…” There were two of him as the world spun. The green of the trees blurred and my body no longer felt like my own as I went back.

MALACHI “AHH!” She leaped from the bed, screaming in agony. Her eyes were wide and her body trembled as I

grabbed her. “Esther.” I brushed her curls off her face but she kept gasping for air. “Esther, love, breathe. Just keep breathing.” “It hurts… IT HURTS!” She screamed as tears fell from her eyes. “No. You’re here.” I kissed the side of her sweat-covered face. “I’m here.” “You’re…you’re…” Just like that, she collapsed again my arms, and I wasn’t sure if I should exhale or not. She was in pain and I couldn’t save her from it. There was nothing I could do but just be here. So, I wrapped my arms around her and took a deep breath as I held her. “I’m here. You’re here.”

ESTHER 1518 Huey Tocoztli, (4th May) - Tenochtitlan, capital of The Aztec Empire.

Drip. Drip. Drip. What is that? I tried to turn away from the water that was dripping onto my eyes but even when I turned the water followed. “You must wake.” At his voice I did, and I had to rub my eyes for they were sore, but not because of the light. There was barely any light, instead we were in near darkness, and the only source of light came from the front of the… “Where is this?” I asked sitting up on the deer skin. “Near your Temple,” he said as he shook the water off his hands and moved the bucket to the side so that he could turn towards me and cross his legs as I’d crossed mine “Temple? Only the…” I said still confused. I felt groggy and tired as I slowly looked to him. He stretched out his hand waiting for mine and I gave it to him.

“In this life, they call me Tlahuicole.” He turned my palm upwards and examined it. I did not like my hands, they were dirty and my nails were ripped and fingertips scabbed over. I wished to pull my hands back in shame but he would not let go. “What do they call you?” “Yaretzi,” I replied when he placed his palm on mine. “They call me Yaretzi. Why do you speak like…uhmm…?” With my other hand I reached up to my heart as it felt like it was being cut from my body. “The mother in this life named you well,” he said softly. “Yaretzi, you will be loved forever.” “Tlahuicole…what…what is happening?” I asked gripping tightly onto his wrist. “Acalan poisoned you in rage. The only cure is with his people, the Tarascans. I went to fight to find it, but there isn’t enough to save you. I merely wanted to say hello and goodbye,” he whispered as he placed my palm over his chest. He’d chosen to die since I would die. As a prisoner of war, death meant being sacrificed, and for warriors it meant a fight to the death.

I now knew why we were at the temple. Why my heart burned. Why this was hello and goodbye again. I knew the answers to all my questions. “Tlahuicole.” The high priest came to take him away from me, and I did not dare look at him. And because I knew all the answers to my questions, I had nothing left to say. I feared that if I opened my mouth screams would be released instead of words. So I took his hand and placed it over my heart as well. “Tlahuicole.” They called again. “We shall meet again,” he said to me as he removed his hand from my chest and rose from his place before me. “And that life shall be our last,” I said into the darkness as they took him away. I coughed and blood flew from my lips. Wiping the blood from my mouth I laid back and said, “Our next life shall be our last.” I did not care how many times I had to say it. I’d say it for all eternity because it gave me hope. I

needed hope. Hhmmmm… Hhmmmm… Hhmmmm… Pushing myself off the ground I walked towards the sunlight, shielding my eyes against the brightness of the glare. It was only then that I saw the blur of the wings as its body darted side to side. It moved so quickly that all I could hear was the sound, it was the sound only a hummingbird could make and I laughed until I couldn’t anymore. I laughed until the light and the pain all went away and all that was left was the sound.

20. GIRLFRIEND ESTHER I sat in the hotel’s white bathrobe looking down at my own reflection in the glossy shine of the dining table. My hair was still wet from the shower. I wanted to speak but I had no words. And so, I sat silently even as Malachi set the coffee mug in front of me. Looking up, I watched as he, still shirtless, sat down to my right. He didn’t look at me, instead he drank his own coffee and looked out at the view of the city. I held the mug and felt the heat radiating into my hands. I enjoyed that heat for a moment before I lifted it to my lips to drink as well. The more I drank, the better I felt and all of sudden I had the words again. “Tlahuicole,” I said as I licked the coffee off my lips and he stopped moving for just a second before his blue eyes shifted on to me. “History remembers him as a badass who died a warrior’s

death as punishment for being captured, even though the Emperor was willing to give him anything he wanted.” “The one thing he wanted was dying and he could not save her,” he frowned, as he held the coffee cup to his lips. “Yeah. There was never any mention of Citlali, which obviously proves that history was written by men,” I smirked. “In man’s defense, it’s not like you were…” His voice trailed off as I glared at him. He looked at me for a good second before he nodded to himself and drank once more. “Not like I was what? A warrior? Anyone important?” “This coffee is good, isn’t it?” he asked completely avoiding my question and I couldn’t help but laugh as I shook my head him. He smiled and reached for my hand. “How are you feeling?” “Better.” It wasn’t a lie. I did feel better just… “Just not well.” It was like he’d taken the words right out of my mind.

I nodded. I didn’t feel well because I’d remembered things not just from that life but others. “The bombs of 1940, I was Nellie Camellia Wilkinson, daughter of Walter and Edith Wilkinson, I had two younger sisters Patricia and Lillian, and younger brother named Edward you were—” “Thomas Gallagher,” he said squeezing my hand gently. “You remember that life?” Rubbing the side of my head I sighed trying to think of how to explain it when I remembered he’d understand. “Yes. But I didn’t see it, or dream it like I did just now. I know you were a tutor. Edward’s tutor, and you walked with a limp because you’d broken your leg as a child and couldn’t afford to get it reset.” “Which meant I wasn’t fit for war, which led me to the home of Walter Wilkinson, a merchant with a love for politics, philosophy, and poetry.” “You forgot the other P’s—his fear of poverty and his love of power.” Somehow, I just knew that life, how Walter Wilkinson wanted me, his daughter, to marry into money. How the night of the blitz Thomas and I were going to run off

together, but we died. Like always. “Not all the memories come as dreams. Some come just as they are: memories.” “I don’t want to…” Hearing Für Elise begin to play, I rose from the chair and let go of his hand to find my phone in the living room. Luckily whoever had cleaned the room put it to charge near the lamp. “Hello—” “Esther! Thank god! Are you alright? I got your message about canceling for yesterday and tried to call to confirm but you haven’t been answering.” I pulled the phone from my ear to check and sure enough I had over two dozen missed calls and much more emails waiting. Shit. “Esther?” “Adith, I’m here. What’s going on?” I said putting him on speaker as I checked through my emails. “I was able to reschedule your today meetings to Friday, but that means I had to move yesterday’s meetings to today and I don’t want to push back Issenberg, you said it was important—”

“It is. What time did you reschedule for?” I asked as I quickly replied to Shannon’s message to approve one of Malachi’s translations along with a few others. “At one for lunch at the Waldorf. Li-Mei said that’s where you were. So I figured it would be easier.” “Perfect. Give me an hour—” “After that you still have Steeler and Michaelson at three. Are you going to be able to make it?” Putting my hand on my head I took a deep breath. I’d forgotten about the mountain that was on my head. “Yes, send me the whole schedule, Adith, and then call and double check. Also apologize on my behalf for the postponement. I’m also going to need clothes, I’ll send you the room information.” “Wait! There’s also one more thing…” “What?” “Your mother. She’s been calling about her… money this month.” I paused mid-text. “She was already given

money this month.” “I told her that, she said she didn’t want to speak with me but you about it. But she also couldn’t reach you.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “I’ll call her. Is that it?” “Yes. I’m sending the schedule now.” “Thank you—” “She’s here.” He cut me off to say. “Who’s there? My mother? She’s there? In the office?” He didn’t need to answer because I could hear her yelling “ESTHER? Esther, I know you’re here! You better—” “I want to speak to her and I want to speak to her now!” Sighing I covered my mouth to keep from screaming. Was she insane? No really, was she in need of actual mental help? “Ma’am—” “Take her to my office and put her on the line,” I said when he spoke again. “Oh, so you do answer calls just not mine—”

“You will get nothing if you do not stop causing a scene!” I yelled into the phone. “That is my work. If you act like this again, mother or not, I’ll have you thrown out and banned from ever stepping foot in there again!” “And that’s not making more of a scene?” She scoffed. “I can see it now. Ungrateful spoiled Esther Noëlle throws her own mother out of the company.” “Look who decided to acknowledge me as her child, almost twenty-four years too late. But hey, it’s a start, right?” I knew it would piss her off. I wasn’t sure why I said it but I felt good too. “I need you to wire me some money,” she demanded, completely changing the subject. Breathe, Esther, breathe. “I wired you money two weeks ago, how did you spend it all already—” “Stop being such hardass. We get it. My father trusted you, that’s why you’re the gatekeeper. But remember if you weren’t alive thanks to me that money would belong to me anyway.”

Days ago that would have hurt deeply. It would have felt like she was clawing out my heart but today it didn’t. Because today I remembered kinder women who had been my mother before her. “I am alive. The money is mine and I don’t see why I need to give you any more than what was agreed…” “I have some debts.” She had to be kidding. “From what?” No answer. “If you’re on drugs or—” “Do not lecture me!” “Wait until next month for your next wire!” I yelled back as I hung up. Sitting down on the couch, I felt exhausted. In less than a minute she had sucked all the energy from me. That’s what she was, a leech trying to suck me dry. “Nooo,” I whined as my phone rang and without looking I knew it was her…again. “Your mother?” he asked as he leaned on the wall opposite me, dressed in only his silk pajama bottoms. He watched me closely and I couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“Yep. But don’t tell her that. I’m just her ATM and she wants it that way.” “I’m sorry. Are you alright?” “I’m fine and you shouldn’t be the sorry one.” I sat back up and smiled as I added, “Apparently, life doesn’t stop even when you were reconnecting with your long lost soulmate.” He didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked down and crossed his arms over his bare smooth chest. “What?” I stood up slowly. When he looked up to me, he seemed so distant, like he wasn’t really here anymore. “Malachi?” I walked over to him. He watched me come over to him and it was only when I placed my hands on his cheeks that he spoke again. “I don’t want you to go.” “What?” “You walk out…we leave,” he swallowed painfully. “Something will keep us apart again. We won’t come back here in this life.” “You were the one who told me I couldn’t stop

living.” He smiled but he didn’t mean it. “I lied.” “You promised three times, and even swore you’d believe we’d make it. Was that lie too?” I stared directly into the pain behind his blue eyes. He placed his hands on the sides of my face and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “Does the boss have any work for me to do while she’s running the world?” I grinned, it was the best question to ask. “Whatever you’re thinking…my question was asked in sarcasm.” “Nope, you can’t take it back. I’ll call and have them set up the interviews—uhh...!” I giggled as I tried to twist out of his arms when he tickled my sides. “I don’t do interviews, Esther,” he said tickling me. “You do now…ha…stop! Hahaha!” Breaking free of his arms I made a run for it and made it to the other side of the couch before turning back to him. Both of us were moving right to left as he tried to get to me. “You said you didn’t do them because

you were trying to avoid…me. Well, it didn’t work so now you have to do them again like every other author.” He faked right and I moved left trying to avoid him. But instead of running around the couch he jumped over it and grabbed me. “Cheater!” I cried out as he wrapped his arms around me. He kissed the side of my head. “I can’t cheat when there are no rules.” “One interview! I expect you to pull your weight in this relationship, thank you very much.” “Excuse me?” He laughed and I could feel his chest rumble as he did. I nodded proudly. “Yep. Your books are doing okay but I mean one book a year? You can do better than that don’t you think? Or am I supposed to bring home all the bacon?” “Meanwhile, we’re in my hotel room.” “Bought with the check my company gave you.” “That I worked for.” “Urgh! Just do the interview!” I cried out. He

couldn’t stop laughing and I loved it. I loved it more than his frown or his worry or his fear. “Only one! For the sake of the bacon,” he muttered in my ear. “Happy?” “Not even for the sake of your girlfriend but for bacon?” “Girlfriend?” He teased his voice getting higher. “Ms. Noëlle, when did I make you my girlfriend?” Rolling my eyes, I escaped and moved towards the bedroom but not before saying, “When you came back for me.” He muttered something and I turned back to see the smallest grin on his face. “What did you say?” “Nothing.” “You’re lying.” “What does one wear when earning bacon?” he asked changing the subject as he always did, as he moved towards the room and took me with him. “You’re killing the metaphor here,” I muttered as I held on tighter to his hand. After my grandfather died, I’d felt more alone than I had

ever felt in my life, no one cared what I did, no one asked me if I was alright, it was just me. But now there was us.

MALACHI “Who inspired you to write?” “My girlfriend.” “What’s your favorite color?” “My girlfriend’s eyes.” They all gaped at me, the reporter, the cameraman, almost everyone in Penohxi Publishing House, including my girlfriend in question, Esther Noëlle, who stood in the doorway of her office which overlooked the sitting area where this interview with Novel Shop Magazine was now taking place. If the man, Howard, he’d said his name was, hadn’t agreed to limit the interviewer’s questions, I was sure I’d never leave. The first stage of this torture was apparently rapid fire questions via a live social media feed.

“Has anyone impacted your life besides your girlfriend?” The red headed interviewer I’d forgotten the name of asked as she looked up from her phone. I smirked. “Yes. My girlfriend’s grandfather.” A few people giggled, some groaned and others outright laughed around us as I leaned back. Even the cameraman’s lips turned up. She continued the interview, slightly annoyed with my behavior. I’m sure she was hoping for some serious groundbreaking dialogue, however, I couldn’t tell her the truth behind my writing anyway. “Okay, Mr. Lord are you going to tell us who this girlfriend is or are you just going to leave us all in suspense?” “Forgive me, I didn’t know everyone was waiting with bated breath.” I spun the chair slightly as I looked over to see them all waiting with intense stares and crossed arms. Then I looked back up to Esther who frantically shook her head and waved her arms at me no. “The woman giving air traffic controls behind you.” They turned together so quickly it was

borderline terrifying and hilarious, especially considering that Esther’s hands were still in the air. Forcing herself to smile she nodded to them before walking back into their office. “Esther Noëlle?” the woman asked and I nodded. “Wow. People online are buzzing,” she said looking down at her phone. “She’s the head of your fan club?” “And I’m the head of hers.” There were a few aws and I couldn’t help but grin. If I could keep the questions on her then I knew that she’d never ask me to do another one of these again.

ESTHER “Come in,” I said without lifting my head from my desk. “What the heck happened to Malachi Lord?

He’s like this sweet, romantic robot? People are melting at his mushy answers. He was ready to give me anything, I just wanted to find out how to get in touch with you at the airport,” Li-Mei’s words came rambling so quickly that I barely followed her. Lifting my head, I rested my chin on the desk and said. “Shouldn’t we talk about other things first?” She sat down slowly in the chair in front of my desk and I could tell that she was trying to think of something to say. So, I said it first. “Your son…he’s Howard’s.” Her eyes grew wide as she looked at me. “I hope you weren’t hoping that I’d forget about you two because I’m with someone else. Was it happening when I was with him?” “No!” she said quickly shaking her head. “No, but…it wasn’t really that long—” “Then we’re fine.” I sat up and leaned back in my chair. “As long you weren’t actively lying to my face, we’re fine. But I’m not sure how I feel about you just taking off after my grandfather’s funeral. I

thought we were friends.” She hung her head and her auburn brown curls spilled over her shoulders. “We are! I’m sorry! I should have been there for you…I just…I don’t know, I just got scared. You were now my boss, and with my mom, and Howard, everything was happening so fast I bolted.” I understood that. I was actually jealous. I wanted to run away too. I wanted to run back to Montana right before my grandfather passed away. Back to when everything felt so simple. “My mom is so angry with me,” she began to sniffle. Grabbing the tissue box from my bottom drawer I walked around my desk and sat beside her. “Why do I feel like I’m failing at everything? Howard and I aren’t…we were just messing around and now we have a kid. But we don’t love each other. And I told him he was to be involved, and he should be involved, but it feels so forced. Like I have no control over my life at all. Everything always goes…just not how I want.” I also understood that feeling so I hugged her… especially now. “You aren’t failing at everything,

Li-Mei. You’re going to be okay. You have me, and not to brag I’m actually a pretty cool friend to have. So come on, I can’t have you ruining your makeup. It’s fabulous as always,” I told her brushing her hair from her face. She sniffled and looked to me with her dark eyes. “It is nice, isn’t it?” I laughed and nodded. “Yes, it is, and there are cameras outside. Do you really want to ruin it?” She laughed with me. We were both being silly but at least we were laughing. She hugged me awkwardly. DUN-DUN-DUN-DUNNNN! “Jesus Christ!” She jumped away from me and stared at my phone as it vibrated and played Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 in C minor. “My mother,” I told her as I reached over to silence the call. “I wanted to block her but I figured she’d call Adith or come here making a scene again.” “Yeah, I heard about that. Is everything okay?” “With me? Yes. With her? I have no idea,” I replied. I never knew what was going on with her.

Was it my job to know? At what point did you have to cut your own mother off? She’d never been there for me. I’d gone from never seeing or hearing from her, to hearing from her every day now. The never ending onslaught of pain she inflicted left me exhausted. And yet a small part of me—the child in me—was happy because she could never deny me now. I was her child and we were family. She needed me. She couldn’t run from me anymore. It was wrong. We were both holding each other hostage and it was going to end badly, how could it not? Both of us could not go on like this but what was the solution? I had no idea. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have an idea. “Esther? Esther?” “Huh?” I looked to her only to find her staring directly in my face. “Sorry, what were you saying?” “Nothing, but it looked like you were going to another world there for a minute.” If she only knew. Knock. Knock. “Come in.” Howard stepped inside but froze as his hazel

eyes shifted between the both of us. I could tell he was unsure of how to act but Li-Mei stood up and said, “She knows, don’t be awkward.” Howard looked to me and I smiled and nodded, which made him relax a little. I appreciated that he was awkward instead of pretending as if nothing was amiss here. It meant I was right to care and see the overarching good in them. Neither of them had betrayed me and yet they were still concerned about hurting my feelings. “Did you need something?” I asked him. “Oh right,” he shook his head then nodded it back behind him. “He’s done.” “What? Already?” I got up and marched towards the door. He stood in the center of seating area taking pictures with a forced half-assed smile on his face. He looked exhausted for someone who hadn’t even spent fifteen minutes talking. He was as handsome as always, though even more so because I’d gotten to dress him. When we were in Montana he’d pretty much stuck with dark jeans, his V-neck shirts, his favorite leather jacket,

and boots whenever he’d gone out. When inside, he rarely wore a shirt—not that I was complaining. I think I actually enjoyed his old style too much, that’s why I’d chosen clothes that were the opposite of what I had gotten accustomed to seeing him in. I had traded his leather jacket for a gray blazer, his V-neck for a blue button down, and his jeans for tailored pants, making him look as if he just walked off a GQ cover shoot, while happening to match me perfectly…perfect except for the fact that this wasn’t really us. This was the work us. The causal side of us was reserved for each other…and Lieber Falls. He looked up from shaking Rita’s hand and our eyes met. And just like that, everything I’d come out to say to him fled my mind. The corner of his lip turned up and as if he was oblivious to those around him—those who were rushing to pull out their books for him to sign, and those who openly gawked at him—he walked past them all to get to me. Time seemed to slow, and every step he took changed the world around us. One step, he was in the middle of the publishing

house, walking to me as I stood beside my office door. The next, his black hair grew long, his dark eyes became slanted, and he stood clad in black just outside the Palace of Heavenly Purity. And I, the Palace of Earthly Tranquility. He held a sword in his hand, and I held a sword in mine. I watched my mind split between these two realities—contemporary New York and 17th century Beijing—as he made his way toward me. The hand he used to absentmindedly autograph the books of those who crossed his path was the same hand he used to strike down the guards that stood in his way within the Hall of Union. His hand moved fast both times, the pen glided over the page of the paper, already on to the next, while his sword simultaneously tore through flesh two at a time. I, on the other hand, held a sword that was busy cutting down those in black, those dressed like him! “Esther?” “Princess?” I heard both names, felt both hands grab my arm, and turned to see the same two faces, LiMei’s, here and then, the only difference being her hair color. I turned back to look at Malachi and saw

that he was unable to get further due to the sheer number of people around him just like his past self. More guards flooded in front of me, forcing him and those he came with to retreat, just before doing so he looked up to me. “You’re making it a bit obvious, aren’t you?” Li-Mei asked me. I had to blink a few times as the second world drifted away and all I could see was the present. But my emotions hadn’t caught up yet, I still felt the terror within myself that had arisen at the realization that the distance between us was more than intangible space but that of tangible circumstance. A Princess and rebel. “We are not them,” I whispered to myself. “Huh?” Li-Mei asked me. I shook my head and, shaking off her hand, I walked forward, repeating those words over and over again—we are not them. We were them but this wasn’t 17th century Beijing and I was not the Warrior Princess, daughter of the Emperor of who had executed his father, and he was not the Warrior Rebel who had helped to bring down the empire. I

was Esther, a publisher, and he was Malachi, an author, both of us equally sufficient and insignificant at the same time. Both of us openly in a relationship now, which is why when I said, “I’m sure we have other authors to worry about!” Those around him rushed away which allowed me to step right beside him. He smiled. “Careful or people might start to think you’re my girlfriend or something.” I want to joke back but all I could do was stretch out my hand. The smile on his face faded a little, but as he looked into my eyes, he saw something, and whatever it was, I was grateful because he immediately took my hand and pulled me closer to him. “We are not them.”

21. UNMERCIFUL MALACHI The city passed by in a blur and she remained silent as she gazed out the window. The setting sun cast a golden hue that reflected on the glass towers around us and gleamed through the gaps in alleyways as if the sun was trying its best to infiltrate the city one more time before setting into the horizon. “Esther,” I called out and she jumped slightly before looking over to me. “Where are you right now?” “Here,” she said sitting up straighter and taking my hand as the car pulled to a stop. “I’m right here with you.” Taking her hand, I kissed the back of it before I opened the door and stepped out in front of her building. “You know I’ve never brought a boy home

before. Grandpa would have lost it,” she laughed and pulled me towards the revolving doors. “I’ve been here before, remember?” I reminded her, allowing her to drag me. “That was different. You came uninvited.” She nodded to the security guard before taking me to the elevator. “It’s not my fault every time you see me you fall into my arms—ouch!” “That was only twice!” She held two fingers up for me to see. “Twice in this lifetime,” I teased as we got into the elevator. “I have to say, you aren’t as light as I remember though.” Her mouth dropped open and I could feel the oncoming firestorm. Yet I grinned happily as the silver doors closed, but not before I noticed the quick glance the security guard gave us before picking up the phone and dialing. I wasn’t sure why I’d noticed it, but my instincts told me…told me that something wasn’t right. “And don’t even get me started on those damn corsets, they were invented by men just so they

could feel us up once we fainted from the lack of oxygen—are you even listening to me? Malachi?” “Huh?” I looked back at her. She stared directly back at me and eyed me carefully. “Sorry, you’re so beautiful everything goes in one ear and out the other.” She tried to hold a straight face but snorted before she covered her mouth and laughed. “Oh, that was so cheesy!” “That was a classic romantic line, thank you very much!” I smirked. “Yeah from 1910,” she muttered, glancing up as we reached the floor of her apartment. But before she could walk out I stepped in front of her and came face to face with a woman who looked just like Esther, only twenty years older. She had short black hair and was dressed in a sleeveless, velvet jumpsuit. She flinched at the sight of me but stood straighter at the sight of Esther. Her jaw locked and her eyes hardened as she placed the straps of her red purse over her shoulder. “Mom….” Esther’s voice drifted as she stared at the woman in front of us.

“Esther.” She took a deep breath. “I was just coming to see you—” “Then why are you exiting my apartment?” Esther asked glancing over her shoulder at the door that hadn’t closed all the way. However, her mother simply ignored her as her brown eyes locked on to me. “And who the hell are you? Your grandfather’s gone so you’re just bringing men over—?” “What did you take?!” Esther snapped as she stepped in front of me and reached for her mother’s bag. “DO NOT TOUCH ME!” She hollered as she tried to tug her purse away. But nothing was going to stop Esther in that moment. It was as if she were blinded by rage and she gripped and tugged so hard that the snap broke and the purse fell onto the carpet. And as it landed, it opened up and all of Alfred’s watches and a few pieces of jewelry fell out. They both froze for a moment before Esther bit her lip. She nodded to me as she wiped her nose. “Malachi, call the police.”

“The police?” Her mother laughed as she stepped back and looked at me. “Go ahead white boy, call the police. Please. Go ahead, call the police and tell them what, sweetheart? That I took my stuff from my father’s home?!” “IT’S NOT YOURS!” Esther screamed at her. “HE LEFT YOU WITH NOTHING! HE GAVE YOU NOTHING! BECAUSE YOU ARE NOTHING!” “WHAT DOES THAT MAKE YOU THEN? HUH?! THE BIGGEST REGRET OF NOTHING! THE SCUM OF NOTHING—” I saw it coming and grabbed her wrist before her palm hit the side of Esther’s face. Looking down on the woman, I brought her hand down to her side as I stepped between Esther and her mother. I bent down to pick up the watches and the jewelry before I put it back into her purse. Holding the purse out to her she stared at it for a moment before snatching it out of my hands. “Forget it.” She sneered as she dumped everything back out onto the ground in front of Esther. “Happy now, Esther? Or do you want to see

me in handcuffs too? Maybe out starving on the street—” “If you need nothing else, here is the elevator,” I said as I pressed the button for her. Since we’d just come up, the elevators sprang open. She looked to me and I tried not to hate her for the pain she was inflicting. I tried to make her realize how unimportant she was, however, she just had to open her mouth again. “Don’t think you’re the first man trying to fuck for what our families got. You—” “GET OUT!” I hissed as I grabbed her by the arm and threw her into the elevator. “Do you think you’re the first woman who has ever suffered? Do you think that your pain gives you the right to give others pain? You are not and it does not. Know that everything you do comes back to you!” “I’ll remember you!” She pointed at me before the doors closed. “Just watch.” Grinding my teeth together, I waited until I was sure the elevators were going down before I turned back to Esther, who was kneeling as she quietly picked up her grandfather’s wristwatches, tie clips,

cufflinks, and what I could only guess was her own jewelry. She lifted a pair of mistletoe earrings still in the box and just stared at them. Walking over I knelt beside her to help pick everything up. “So that’s my mom.” She bit her lip and hung her head. “The great Diana Noëlle. I apologize, she’s a bit rude, don’t take it personally, she’s like that to everyone. She’ll warm up when hell freezes over.” She inhaled deeply before marching back into her apartment. She managed to carry everything to the glass countertop within the living room. Sitting down in front of it, she placed her hands in her hair as she stared down at her grandfather’s things. “A hundred-grand…she came here to steal a hundred-grand’s worth of stuff,” she laughed bitterly. “Do you know how much she gets a month for doing nothing but embarrassing and insulting me? These aren’t even worth anything.” Her hands trembled as she lifted the mistletoe earrings again. As she spoke I locked the door before moving to sit beside her. “When I was six, my grandfather took me to

the mall to get my ears pierced for Christmas. He got a phone call and was distracted so I went into the toy store. I got lost, and I couldn’t find him, I got scared, and just when I heard this song come on, he found me. He was so upset and so scared that I wasn’t allowed to get my ears pierced anymore. But he gave me these mistletoe earrings and promised he’d take me next time. The next year, in the same mall, we got separated again. This time it wasn’t my fault. He was the one who’d gotten lost, and when I started to get scared again I started to sing Baby It's Cold Outside, and wham, just like that he appeared in front of me. I thought it was the coolest magic trick in the whole world,” she sniffed and blinked her tears away. Reaching up, I touched her earlobe. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” She’s so beautiful, I thought as she raised her eyebrow in confusion. Reaching up, I wiped her tears. She really was a crybaby and the fact that she knew and tried so hard not to cry was so endearing to me. Everything about her made me love her

more, even her anger. “I’m sorry because I keep forgetting you’re Alfred’s granddaughter.” It explained a lot now actually. But then again hindsight was always 20/20. I understood that she was the granddaughter to the man who’d been like a father to me, but deep down she wasn’t anything but mine. She was my past and present love, so I often forgot about Alfred’s relation to her. That was one thing, this was another. “That Christmas, your grandfather didn’t get lost. He’d actually asked—bothered me —until I agreed to spend time with the both of you during the holidays. When I got to the mall I was fine, but then I had one of the strongest memories I’d ever had. It was painful and I ended up hiding in one of the stores and called him. I was afraid I’d pass out and end up in a hospital. He stayed with me for…I have no idea how long before sending me home and heading back to you.” Her eyes widened as she realized what that meant “I met you when I was seven?” “Almost.” I touched one of her curls. “I caught a glimpse of your hair and that was it. I think

maybe that’s what brought on the memory.” “I’m sorry but I’m kind of happy too. Does that make me selfish?” She grinned as she reached up to touch my face. “Absolutely.” I winked and she made a face at me. “Am I selfish for loving that you’re selfish for me?” Her grin widened as she leaned forward and put her head on mine. “No, that makes you crazy.” “Ahh,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulling her closer to me. “Then I don’t even have to ask, I’m used to being crazy for you.” “Is that so?” she asked as her lips hovered over mine. “It is.” I leaned in to kiss her neck. “Uhhh,” She moaned and ran her fingers through my hair as my hand moved to the zip down the back of her dress. “Malachi…” “Hmmm?” I asked against her skin. Kissing her chest, I pulled down her bra. “We…we made it another day.” I pulled back to look up at her.

She continued speaking. “This morning you—I was worried, and now we’re here together again.” The sincerity in her voice, how relieved she was, it hurt. Knowing she’d spent the day like I did, worrying if this was the end. For all the strength she demanded of me and us, deep down she was scared. Tucking my arm under her legs I lifted her up and took her towards the bedroom. Walking across the hardwood floor I laid us both in the center of her bed. “You’re right, we made it,” I whispered, though a voice spoke out in the back of my mind to remind me that anything could happen at any point in time. However, I’d never given in to that fear before and I wouldn’t give in to it now, not with her in my arms. “So, let’s celebrate now, tomorrow, every night for the rest of our long lives.” Bending over, I kissed right above her breast, over her heart and continued to work my way down from there.

ESTHER Stop? Think straight? Did they not know that loving her was never an option I chose? Like flowers that bloom in the spring and leaves that drop in fall, it was uncontrollable, it was my nature. I put no conscious effort into it. I could only love her and be forever honored by the love she gave me in return. My love for her ached from the core of my being and spread outward to the rest of me. It kept me warm in frozen waters and cool in scorching lands. I was sure if they cut me open I’d bleed love for her. If any man should love, I’d warn them to do so with the utmost caution, for they would no longer be men but slaves. And slavery is contrary to every man’s philosophy. It was madness. But what is love if not madness? Tell me what other emotion drives a man to betray his basic instinct to survive? Where no rational thought mattered if it did not contain her. From the first moment our eyes met, I knew that I belonged to her. And yet it was her who had first declared she was mine in body, soul, and mind, chaining her

heart to my heart, and cementing our love to infinity. Love is the butterfly in Pandora’s box. He’d written those words in his first novel, The Woman I Love, and when I’d read it, it made my heart race and had left me breathless. Now I was laying naked beside him as the woman he loved. “How much longer are you going to stare?” he murmured, even though his eyes were shut in the darkness of my room. Reaching over to him, I brushed his hair from his eyes, causing him to look at me. “Until I physically cannot keep my eyes open any longer,” I whispered back. He said nothing for what felt like hours and his eyelids closed once more, allowing me to see his long eyelashes again. I reached out to touch him again but he caught my hand. “I’m begging you, Esther…” He licked his lips. “For what?” I asked when he didn’t go on. “Mercy,” he replied. “I’m begging you for mercy. I can feel you tugging at my heart, it’s already yours. I’m already yours. But when I look into your eyes, I feel as though you are begging me

for more and I’m at a loss as to what else to give you.” “M…Montana.” My voice cracked but I said it. I said what I wanted. His eyes opened and I repeated it. “I want Montana. I want to make love to you every night and steal your breakfast in the morning. I want to talk about nothing and about everything…Let’s go back.” He reached up and placed his head on my face before he bent over and kissed my forehead. With a snicker, he said, “So unmerciful.” Smiling I wrapped my arms around his bare chest. “You’re free to make demands too.” “I demand,” he whispered as he rolled me onto my back and hovered between my legs, allowing me to feel him pressed up against me, “all of you… forever.” “Body, mind, and soul…ohh!” I arched my back and gasped as he thrust inside of me.

MALACHI

She snored softly, her hair a mess around her face as she turned onto her side and rolled into a ball. Reaching over, I brushed her hair aside and kissed her forehead. “Beloved,” I whispered above her. She grinned and rubbed her eyes as she woke up. “I smell food.” “I have food,” I smirked as I moved back and gave her space to sit up. Why she bothered to grab the sheets as she sat up was beyond me, but it was cute. “Good morning,” she said, still dazed as she brushed her hair back. “Good morning,” I replied as I placed the breakfast tray in front her. “Eat quickly. We have a plane to catch.” “Huh? Where to?” “Montana.” She had to think for a second before laughing and reaching for the orange juice. “You do know I was half asleep when I said that, right?” “Does it make it any less true? Do you want not

want to go—?” “I do, but there is so much I have to do here. The office—” “I called them.” She coughed against her orange juice and I took the glass from her. “You called my work? Malachi, I want to go, but I can’t just drop everything—” I lifted the origami airplane I’d made for her and held it right in front of her face. She took it and gently unfolded it. “There will always be reasons for us to stay, there will always be reasons for us to go, so, my love, close your eyes and tell me, where do you really want to be tomorrow? – Malachi Lord.” She read, looking back at me. “You know it’s a bit pretentious to use your own quotes, right?” “And here I was thinking it was romantic.” She inhaled but laughed as she did. “I’m begging you, Malachi…” “For what?” “Mercy.” She smiled. “I just woke up and you’re already prepared to run away with me?”

“Esther.” She still didn’t get it. “I’m not trying to run away with you, I’m trying to live with you. Where do you want to live?” She looked away from me as she took the French toast from the plate. “What time is the flight?” “This whole time you were going to agree but you just wanted to fight me first, didn’t you?” I laughed and she stuffed a piece of toast into my mouth. Taking a bite I chewed then said, “I love you too.” “So unmerciful.” She shook her head and took another bite.

22. FATE OF THE FAITHFUL ESTHER “We’ll be landing momentarily, Mr. Lord. Thank you for flying with us.” The pretty brunette air hostess flashed her white teeth at him as she took his coffee cup. “Excuse me,” I said with the politest voice I could muster, even smiling as I lifted my glass to her. “Do you mind if I get one of those little cookies again? If you’re not too busy.” “Of course,” she replied taking my glass as she left. I watched her go and smirked happily to myself when Malachi unnecessarily cleared his throat…again as if he were trying to not laugh at me. Glancing up from the tablet in front of him I asked, “Malachi?” “Hmmm?” He looked up as the hostess came back with my cookies. “Thank you,” I said to her as I opened the pack

and looked at him. “You’ve cleared your throat a few times since we’ve gotten onboard. Is something funny?” “Have I?” “You have.” “Hmmm.” He nodded to himself but the grin that slowly started to form on his lips gave him away. “How about you ignore that and I’ll ignore the daggers you shoot out of your eyes whenever you see the hostess.” “Have I?’ I mocked him. “You have.” He nodded. “Though I do have to admit I like the jealous side of you.” “Me? Jealous? Ha!” I crossed my arms and legs. “Why would I, the woman currently involved in a love story that spans a thousand lifetimes, be jealous?” “That’s what I, the man who has only ever had eyes for you in a thousand lifetimes, wants to know.” I twisted my mouth until my jaw popped because I had no reply. Instead, I pointed to the tablet again. “Well? Do you think Mr. and Mrs.

Yamauchi will like it?” “I dislike cliffhangers.” He frowned as he swiped right yet didn’t see the rest of the page. Reaching over I took the tablet from him and put it away into my bag. “Sometimes they are necessary.” “Yes, if there will be a second book or if you want to annoy the hell out of your readers.” I grinned happily. He clearly wanted more instead of ripping it apart like he’d done the last time. “It’s annoying because you want to read more.” “Are you writing a second one?” “Nope.” “So you’re just going to leave your audience hanging like that.” “You have strong arms, remember? So don’t mind the cliffhangers,” I said as I lifted my arms and hung onto the imaginary cliff like Mr. Yamaguchi had done over a year ago. “So just… hang in there.” I grinned as he drew in his breath and groaned helplessly. “Wow,” he shook his head at me.

“So I take it I no longer write like an English major anymore?” “No, you do, but it’s more tolerable now.” He buckled his seatbelt as we began our descent. “Would it kill you to just come right out and compliment my great literary talent?” I asked just as the jet hit a patch of turbulence and my heart sank into my stomach as I froze for a quick second. “It just might.” He laughed. “Shut up!” I grumbled as I leaned back and took a deep breath before I looked out the window. The view of Lieber Falls from the sky was just a mystical as I remembered. Unlike last year, the whole town was already blanketed in snow, from the mountains down to the frozen lake in the distance. “I called some people in town…we missed the first snowfall, obviously,” I said as we touched down. “I guess we’ll just have to wait until next year for the snow, won’t we?” he replied as he stood up and offered me his hand. “Look who’s Mr. Positive now.”

“What can I say, you’re contagious.” He winked. I grinned as I grabbed my bag and his hand, and together we walked toward the front of the private jet he’d chartered. Apparently, there were no direct flights to Lieber Falls from New York and, after recalling the hassle it had been to get here the last time, I couldn’t deny the fact that I was a little relieved. Nodding to both the hostess and the pilot, I shivered at the cold air that blew across my face once we stepped out onto the hanger. “Is this the reason you said not to pack anything?” I asked as we walked towards his awaiting motorcycle. I’d only thrown my makeup, wallet, and toothbrush into my backpack when he reminded me how much stuff I’d left behind. I couldn’t remember what I’d left, but for some reason I enjoyed the thought just getting up and going without having to worry about taking anything with me, it was like going home. “It was one of the reasons,” he said sheepishly as he kicked his foot over and sat down. I should have known when he’d told me to wear a leather

jacket. “Fine, but I’ll drive.” “Come again?” Reaching into my bag I searched my wallet and proudly pulled out my motorcycle license for him to see. He took it from me as his mouth opened slightly. I’d never seen him so shocked, and to be honest, I don’t know he could be shocked. “You really can get anything in New York.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Is this real?” “It is!” I tried to grab it back from him. “If you aren’t man enough to let a girl drive you around, just say so, Mr. Lord.” He bit his lip and nodded to himself before he slid back to make room for me. “Thank you very much.” I handed him my bag, donned the smaller helmet and mounted the bike. I felt him behind me as his hands slid around my waist and his body pressed itself against my back. In that moment, he took over all my senses. I couldn’t move anymore and pretty soon, I felt myself remembering the night before—how he’d laid on top of me, how his skin had felt against

mine. “Are you going to go?” he whispered directly into my ear, proving that he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re distracting me,” I muttered as I dismounted and took my bag from him. “I’ll show you that one day when you aren’t riding me—I mean, riding behind me.” He snorted at my slip as he slid into position and allowed me to climb on behind him. “Aren’t we going?” “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded as he zipped his jacket all the way. He handed me his gloves and I put them on and snaked my hands around his waist. I held on tightly, as I let my head rest on his back, and when the engine roared to life it didn’t scare me like it once did but brought me comfort. I closed my eyes and held on as we sped out of the hanger and onto the main road. Soon the airport faded into the distance as we rode towards the town and my mind began to shift, just like it had done in the office. I found myself in the present and in the past once more. Watching a disgraced princess who was

dressed in red and yellow silk robes, hold onto the former rebel with the only arm she had left. Her body was slumped over his back and though she was dying she smiled as they rode as quickly as possible towards the coast. Her black hair caught in the wind and flowed out behind her, and as her brown eyes met my brown eyes it was almost as if she could see me. Her gaze was unwavering, and we gazed at each other until we arrived at a fork in the road and she went left while I went right and down the path that led us to the very familiar wooden house with large windows. The driveway had recently been shoveled and the garage stood open which allowed him to drive right inside and stop in front of the door. Neither he nor I said anything as we walked up the steps of the garage and into the house. With the exception of the white sheets that covered the furniture, everything looked exactly the same as the last time we’d been here. But then again how much could a house change? The high interlocking wood ceilings were still high, the gray couch still faced the arched windows, however, what I wasn’t

expecting to see was the photo that stood beside the lamp. Walking over to it, I picked up the frame and traced the image of my unamused grandfather and a teenaged version of myself taking a selfie together. “Forgive me,” he whispered as he walked up beside me and looked at the picture. “I saw it during the reception for his funeral and I kind of, well, I stole it.” “You came to the funeral?” He looked hurt. “I was there from beginning to end.” “You didn’t say anything—” “You told me to stay away from you, remember?” he replied though I’d honestly forgotten. “You really believed I wouldn’t come?” I nodded. “I figured you didn’t want to risk it with Li-Mei. You were trying to avoid her, well me, but—” “Alfred is—he was my only family. Of course I’d go, no matter the risk.” “Only family besides me,” I added cheerfully. He nodded. “Besides you.”

“So I don’t have to stay in the guesthouse?” I asked as I put the picture back down. “What guesthouse?” He pretended as if he had no idea what I was talking about. “There is no guesthouse. As a matter of fact, there isn’t even a guest room. You’ll just have to make do sharing with me.” I laughed and hugged him. “I missed it here.” “I missed you here.” He hugged me back before he picked me up and spun me around. And as I laughed everything went black.

April 24th 1644- Kunning Palace, Beijing, Ming Dynasty I ran as fast I could, trying not to look at their faces as I grabbed the arrows behind my back, one by one, and brought them forward, sending them flying directly into their chests. It knocked them onto their backs and created a path that led right into father’s chambers. “Princess!”

All I could see was her black hair spinning around her like a storm as her body shielded me from the dagger that flew directly into her neck. Her eyes locked with mine for only a second—no, half of that—before they closed and she fell to the ground. I couldn’t mourn, I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t scream, I could only run towards my family as the guards made way for me while they fought, giving their lives for us—something many of those in the city had long given up on doing. We just need to escape. We can escape. It was the only thing I thought about as I threw myself into the doors open so forcefully that I almost fell as they opened before me. Turning around I slammed them shut and managed to slide the latch into place and keep the doors closed. But the sight inside was much more horrid than the sight outside of it. “K..Kunyi?” I gasped as I stumbled inside and saw my sister, my best friend, laying in a pool of blood at the feet of… “Father?” He stared at me covered in the blood of our family. Seeing him like that…the bow in my hand

dropped to the ground. The sword stained with royal blood tightened in his hands as he turned to face me crying, sobbing yet dazed. “Why?” It was all I could ask. Why? Why had he given up? We could have escaped. Couldn’t we have escaped? “Why must you be born into this family?!” He screamed at me and I was so stunned, so scared, that I lifted my arm and drew my sword and slowly its metal met my skin and sliced right through. I felt nothing but anger. Anger at myself for caring, for leaving him to save them…

MALACHI September 26th 1646- Guáng ān mén, Beijing, Ming Dynasty “We made it Princess,” I whispered unable to look away from the blue waters in front of us. We were finally outside the city’s walls, facing away from

the Forbidden City, the imperial palace that was once her own, but under the new emperor had become her prison. We even faced away from the sun as it set behind us, but she said nothing, and she’d never say anything in this life again. Her last request had been to ride together, but in actuality she’d asked for me not to watch her die again. We were to ride as if we were trying to outrun our fate. Holding her now cold hand as they gripped my robes I used the other to cover my mouth as I coughed so hard the horse was startled and birds flew from their nest above us. When I took my hand from my mouth I saw that it was stained with my blood. I smiled as I balled my hand into a fist and wiped the blood from my lips. “Is it not amusing, beloved,” I whispered to her. “The emperor you served has killed you and the emperor I put to replace him has killed me. Is it not….” I bit back the sob that threatened to break through my lips. “Is it not a cruel but humorous fate?”

*** Waking up, I found my gaze clouded by my own tears. I wiped the tears from my eyes and sat up on my bed as a familiar throbbing headache rang throughout my head. “Esther?” I called out when I did not see her beside me. “Esther?” I panicked and rose to my feet. When she’d collapsed, I brought her to the room but I must have had a memory after that. Stepping out into the hall I found that she wasn’t there either but I smelled coffee. “Esther?” “In here.” Her voice was soft, barely audible even. Following it, I walked straight towards the art room where I found her sitting in the center of the room with her old quilt around her shoulders and a coffee pot beside her. All the paintings I’d created for her were now uncovered. She looked at me over her shoulder and her face…she looked so exhausted yet she still smiled at me and lifted the cup beside

her. “Coffee?” “Let’s go, you shouldn’t stay in here…it’s—” “Creepy?” She snickered. “I thought it was romantic at first, when I didn’t know it was me, but now, yeah, it’s a bit odd, but I don’t mind it, you caught my good side each time.” “It’s hard not when you have no bad side,” I said, leaning on the bedframe. She smiled and then looked back at one painting in particular. “Princess Changping, daughter of Emperor Chongzhen, you warned me to get out. You told me that there’d be an attack and I ran to help my family, and he’d already killed most of them. He tried to kill me, but I lost my arm instead. That’s where I was. Where were you?” “Two years after that, at the eastern gate of Beijing. Emperor Li was worried that I’d revolt against him and had been poisoning me. Ironically, he died before me. You died on the way, the infection from losing your arm had spread to your heart,” I answered honestly, not realizing we’d been seeing the same lifetime.

She hung her head and her hand shook. “Why are we tortured like this? We can’t even enjoy this life…” “We can.” “HOW?!” Marching over to her I took the coffee from her hands and pulled her to her feet. She refused to look at me, but I lifted her chin and she glared at me in anger. “We enjoy now by not getting caught up in then. If we miss a minute then we enjoy the next one twice as much. Let’s not talk about it. Let’s just...let’s go get food, let’s take walk. Let’s pretend it never even happened and keep going. We aren’t them. We are us.” She looked at me for a long time before she took a deep breath and relaxed. Cupping her face, I kissed her gently. “Feel better?” “I’d feel better if I could smack Emperor Chongzhen and Emperor Li!” she muttered and I couldn’t help but snicker. “The greatest thing about living new lives is knowing those who hurt us received justice

somehow.” It was why there was nothing to do but live. “Come on.” She followed me and closed the door, locking it as if it would lock all our pain behind it as well. “So, what do young people do for dates these days?” I asked putting my arm around her shoulder. She looked up at me stunned for a second before breaking out in laughter. It was the first time I’d felt comfortable since waking up. “Oh, you are going to regret that question!” She broke free of me and sprinted towards the stairs, already bouncing back to her usual self. Nothing could keep her down for long. “Why?” I asked chasing after her. “Esther?”

23. WE ARE THEM ESTHER “Say ‘Happy Founders Day!’” I jumped in front of him and held an old disposable camera up to his face. He stared at me completely unamused as he tried to juggle the logs of firewood in his arms. When he wouldn’t smile, I took the picture anyway. “I thought we missed this,” he muttered as we walked towards where the rest of the men in town were preparing the bonfire. “Apparently, the recent snowstorms made it impossible for the fireworks, so they pushed it back. Aren’t we lucky?” I asked as I took another picture, this time of our feet as we walked back in the snow, his footprints were so big I could step right into them. “Yes, real lucky. Also, aren’t you the one who volunteered to help?” He grumbled and when I looked back up at him, he was staring at me

eyebrow raised. “I’m supervising you and documenting today’s events. It’s not easy.” I couldn’t even say it with the straight face. Rolling his eyes, he glanced around until he spotted the woman with the black fur hat that had her badge pinned to the front. She held a cup of steaming hot chocolate in her hands as she watched over the preparations from behind her sunglasses. Suddenly, her gaze caught me and I could almost see the light bulb that went off in her mind. “Esther?” “Yes, Sheriff?” I answered. “I was wondering if you could help out with the —” “She has her hands full, Sheriff,” Malachi said as he handed me a few pieces of firewood, which made no sense since the pile he was meant to drop them in was directly in front of us now. “Great. Now we look suspicious,” I muttered under my breath to him as she looked us over with a frown. “It will only take a second. I was just going to

ask Esther about hosting a book fair here come spring.” “Really?” I said excitedly as I dropped the firewood onto the pile and moved towards her. “If it isn’t Esther the connoisseur!” David called out with a grin as he dropped the cooler he was holding to give me a hug, much to Malachi’s annoyance. Malachi’s eyes immediately locked on to my hands as if to tell them not to dare hug him back. “Welcome back! How are you?” “I’m great. Hi, Murphy.” I pulled away and waved to Murphy but she gave me the same look that Malachi had given David. You would have thought David and I had actually dated with the amount of hostility in the air. I mean, I know we’d flirted a little bit, but jeez. “Welcome back, Esther. You too, Mr. Lord.” She nodded to him, which drew David’s attention to him. David tilted his head, his brown hair sticking out of his beanie. “Malachi Lord, something’s different about you. Don’t tell me.” David snapped his fingers. “What happened? You’re not hunched over

anymore—ouch!” Murphy elbowed his sides. “Better company,” Malachi added curtly, though his tone was still unfriendly. Before I could cut in again, the Sheriff spoke up. “Mr. Lord is helping out. Why don’t you go get the tents?” Malachi looked ready to object and I could see the concern in his eyes so I mouthed, “Give me five minutes and then we are glued again.” He frowned but nodded. “Okay, I have them in my truck.” David looked between us both confused. But then shrugged it off as Malachi began to follow him. Malachi glanced back again and I smiled as I held out my hands and showed him all five of my fingers before lifting my camera to take another picture of them as they walked back towards the trail where the cars were parked. It was only when I put the camera down that I realized I was standing between the Sheriff and Murphy. “Right. So, about the book fair…” “Before we get into that,” Sheriff Richards said

much more seriously. “I never got to say sorry about your grandfather.” “It’s okay. I mean it’s not okay, but I’m okay. I promise,” I told her honestly. I was happy she’d even remembered. “Thank you though.” “He loved you a lot, I could tell. Grandparents are like that.” She smiled proudly to herself. “Yeah…I loved him a lot too,” I whispered as I brushed my hair behind my ears. I could not believe a year had already gone by and yet everything felt exactly the same. I loved how it seemed that we could just pick up where we’d left off in town, like we’d always lived here. I glanced up at the sky and watched as the sun slowly sank behind the trees. “Why does he call you Esther the connoisseur?” Murphy asked me, thankfully changing the subject. I grinned. “You sure you want to know?” She nodded. “I forgot to ask until just now.” “The first day I got here he was showing me around and we went to Pete’s diner. I hadn’t eaten all day and so I scarfed down my meal as quickly as I could, and from then on he called me the

connoisseur, but what he really meant to call me was the carnivore.” “Oh, my grandson,” the Sheriff groaned as she shook her head and took a slow gulp of her hot chocolate. “Let me guess, you corrected him and he decided to just stick with it,” Murphy sighed. “Yep!” I said my voice getting just a little higher. “Because he said it was a classic mistake, so I let it go because I rather not be known as Esther the carnivore.” “Gosh, he’s so dumb,” Murphy groaned as she put her gloved hands on her face and shook her head. It was funny because she seemed more embarrassed for him than he had been for himself. But I guess that’s how it was when you loved someone. I just hoped he’d gotten the help he needed, but I didn’t want to pry into her life and ask questions. “If you two don’t have anything planned for Thanksgiving, feel free to stop by the station,” Sheriff said as she inhaled the cold air. “Thank you, but Mr. and Mrs. Yamauchi invited

us over for Thanksgiving. I’m finally going to meet their famous lawyer daughter. If we have time afterward we’d love to stop by. Then, in the spring I’d love to host the book fair. Any reason for it though?” “I just figure it would be a good way to get some tourists to pass through…after all, we got a famous writer living in town now… ” Her attention was suddenly drawn away by the kids who were slipping and playing on the ice further down the pond. “How many times do I have to tell these darn kids! I swear…where are their parents—?” “We got it, Sheriff!” Murphy made a face for me to join her around the campfire. She glanced over her shoulder to look at the Sheriff before looking at me. “She has a strict ‘no ice skating on the pond’ rule.” “What? Just look at it. It screams skate on me.” “Exactly. Most people go at night or when she isn’t around. It’s so beautiful. The way the moonlight reflects on the water.” She sighed happily.

“So why is she so upset about it?” I turned and sure enough, she was still watching the kids as we walked through the small shrubs and branches on the other side. “Apparently when she was younger, ages ago, she and some friends fell through the ice. They got her out but the two other kids died. It was an usually warm winter back then.” “Yeah but sometimes things like that just stay with you,” I whispered feeling bad now. “Those memories must come rushing back to her mind—” “I know it must be traumatizing for her, but you can’t just stop living because of an accident. People get into car accidents all the time in this town, we can’t ban them from driving. They’re kids. Kids are fearless and innocent by nature. It’s us adults who make them scared,” she said and I noticed that she placed her hand over her stomach as she spoke. “Murphy…” I trailed off when her freckled faced turned straight towards me. It wasn’t my place to butt in so I asked another question…which was still a bit nosey. “How are you are David if you don’t mind me asking?”

She blushed then grinned as she nodded to herself. “We’re good. I know…I know the last time you saw us…we weren’t really in a good…he wasn’t in a good place. But he’s better. He’s stopped drinking and is seeing a therapist.” “Dr. Monterrosa? I heard he was good.” She pulled back and eyed me up and down. “Well look at you, you’re a real townie.” “I’m just good with names—” “HELP!” Both our heads turned in time to see that the ice had cracked right under the kids’ feet. “DON’T MOVE!” Murphy ran and so did I. We reached the edge of the pond when all of sudden the ice gave way and their piercing screams were short, quick, and petrified as they sank beneath the ice. Murphy moved to run in but froze as her hands moved to her stomach. DON’T! My mind screamed and I thought it was to her but I realized I was already running forward and diving through the ice. The water cut me like knives, stabbing me on all sides, then

darkness covered everything. I grabbed one of their hands and lifted her up above the water, Murphy grabbed hold of her and pulled her out as I went down again to get the others. One by one I pushed them up out of the water, each time my body slowing down as I did.

MALACHI By the time we made back to the beach, everyone was running towards the pond and I didn’t know why until I saw her, just the top of her curly brown hair, diving into ice. “ESTHER!” The scream broke through my lips like fire and my heart burned as I dropped everything in my hands and ran not towards the beach but towards the ice. I knew they were yelling for me to stop but I couldn’t. Everything was pulling me towards the crater-sized hole right by the water’s edge. “I can’t see her!” Someone hollered coming up

for air. “Don’t—” I didn’t wait as I jumped in after her. The water…it was death. If anything could embody anything else, this water was death; cold, punishing and void of almost all light. I could barely see the fading sunlight and my lungs burned the longer I stayed under, but I didn’t care. I swam further in, my head snapping left and right. I prayed in that moment that whatever it was that connected us— love, magic, God, whatever it was— it would help me get to her. When I saw the bubbles float up I dove down, only to see her screaming. I grabbed her and she stared at me in terror as she grabbed her throat and then she went still. ESTHER! I couldn’t scream. All I could do was reach out and grab her as I swam back towards the break in the ice. My vision tunneled and still I lifted her up first until finally we both broke the surface and I gasped for air before screeching out her name. “Esther! ESTHER!” I couldn’t focus on anyone else, even as they helped us out and laid her on the snow. They were

yelling, trying to cover me, trying to pull us part. I put my arms and thumped down on her chest harder than I probably should have before I bent over and blew the air that was barely filling my lungs into hers. “Come on!” I yelled at her before breathing into her mouth once more. “ESTHER, COME ON!” It felt like far too many seconds had gone by before she coughed up the water. “That’s it. Come on, baby!” I tilted her head to the side allowing the water to drain out but she started to tremble in my arms. “Esther?” Her brown eyes snapped open and I saw the terror in them. “No, no, you’re fine.” “I’m…I…I’m… sorry,” she gasped as her teeth chattered. I glanced up, looking for anything to warm her up and I noticed that several people were busy wrapping the boys in foil blankets. There were dozens of people around us who were rushing to help and yet I felt nothing but terror. “I,” she fought to say. “I didn’t…know…I

….I…was…just…jumping…in…I’m so…” “Baby, it’s okay. Shh…it’s okay, you’re okay,” I said as I rocked her. I heard them call for the ambulance and I tried to rise but my legs were numb. “Sor…I’m…Sorry...s…” “ESTHER! ESTHER!” I shook her but she went limp in my arms. I couldn’t feel her pulse. “No, no, no, no, no. Esther? ESTHER! SHE NEEDS HELP! PLEASE HELP! Not like this. I couldn’t lose her like this. No. Why did this always happen? Why…we’d just…why? God, why?

24. THE SECRET TO LIVING MALACHI I felt a familiar darkness creep up on me again and my vision tunneled once more when all of sudden someone shook me. “Let her go! SIR! YOU NEED TO LET HER GO!” Blinking I didn’t realize who was speaking until two paramedics were taking her out of my arms and placing her onto a stretcher. David pulled me back as they cut open her clothes and prepared the defibrillator and I watched as they sent a jolt of electricity. “Ahh.” I hunched over and grabbed my chest as if the electricity had gone through me instead. But I welcomed it. It was better than the darkness, than the nothingness. “One more…” I whispered so softly I wasn’t sure if they could hear me begging them but they

did it again. And when they did, they said, “We’ve got a pulse!” I could breathe again. A pulse meant that she was alive. And I could do alive. We can do alive, can’t we beloved? DAY ONE It felt like everything was sped up. Time was going and things were happening, but I couldn’t look away. One moment we were in the ambulance and they were giving us warm fluids through an IV. The next, we were in the hospital. I had no recollection of our movements, my eyes stayed only on her. I was alive but I felt numb inside. Everyone was moving and talking and living, but I was just sitting and waiting. Before I knew it, we were in a room. She was laying on a bed and I was sitting beside her. “Mr. Lord? Mr. Lord?” The woman snapped her fingers in front of my face, but I didn’t move or

speak. “Mr. Lord, do you want to help her?” At that, I looked over to the black woman with large-framed glasses and white hair. I tried to speak but my throat, I noticed, ached. “H…how?” I asked her. She lifted a change of clothes for me. “Change, eat, and I’ll—” “When does she wake up? She should’ve been awake by now.” I turned back to Esther and watched her heart rate monitor. “If I have to worry about you, I worry less about her.” She put the clothes in front of me again and this time I took them. “Her heart stopped,” I told her even though I was sure she already knew. “Severe accidental hypothermia with cardiac arrest. You gave her warmed intraosseous fluids, warm humidified oxygen, but …” “Are you a doctor, Mr. Lord?” “Once upon a time ago,” I whispered. “Then you should know that you’re putting yourself at risk like this. You need to eat—” “I can’t leave her.” Who knew what happen if I

left her again. She sighed. “I’ll step outside and come back in and we can talk about her all you want but you need to get changed first.” I didn’t have anything to say and when she left, I sat there for a while before finally rising and stripping off hospital scrubs they’d forced me to wear the first day we’d come in. They’d told me to layer up but I grabbed whatever I could and didn’t honestly care if I wore thicker clothes or not. Sweats didn’t make me warm, she did…Esther did. Nevertheless, I changed quickly into the new clothing before sitting back down. I lifted Esther’s hands to kiss the back of them. She was warmer, much warmer, but she still felt so cold to me, like she wasn’t… She’s alive. She’s here. That was all that mattered. Tick-Tic. Tick-Tic. Tick-Tic. Tick-Tic. Tick-Tic.

Tick-Tic. The clock behind me went on. I could hear it now. I could hear everything now. The doctors talking outside. “Have her scans come back?” “Yes, her brain is lighting up like a fireworks show.” “I’ve never seen anything like it.” “It’s been almost seven hours. Shouldn’t she be waking up by now?” “Run more tests. Maybe we’re missing something. Her brain wouldn’t be like this if it was hypoxia.” “What are you going to tell him?” “I’m not sure if he’s in the right frame of mind to hear anything. Make sure he eats.” Knock. Knock. “Mr. Lord?” I was starting to hate hearing my name on her lips. I hated the fact that I now felt time passing instead of myself passing with time. I was aware now and I didn’t want to be, not while she was like

this. Someone placed a tray in front of me and just to enjoy the silence, I grabbed the bowl and drank the soup like water before I put it back down. I didn’t need them focusing on me. I wasn’t important here, she was. They just needed to worry about her. DAY EIGHT “Mr. Lord?” Go away, please. “You both have guests.” “Malachi?” Hearing her voice, I turned around and sure enough it was Mrs. Yamauchi. Standing beside her was a tall slender woman with long black hair. She looked like Mr. Yamachi…who wasn’t with either of them. I rose from my chair and bowed to them both without letting go of Esther’s hand. I wasn’t sure what to say or why they were here. When Kikuko looked to the bed, I saw that she was fighting back tears. “Oshaberi.” For some reasoning hearing that name, having gone over a week without hearing the chatterbox

herself, gutted me deeply and I held in my sob. Though I was shaking I tried my best to remain calm as Mrs. Yamauchi let go of her daughter and walked over to me. She looked me dead in the eyes before she patted both my shoulders and rubbed them like she was trying to warm me up. “Don’t worry, if he sees her on the other side he’ll kick her right back to you,” she said with a graceful smile, and it took far too long for her words to sink in. I looked back at their daughter, who hung her head and then back to her as I shook mine. “Mr. Yamauchi?” I asked her, and here she was trying to comfort me of all people. “No…” “I’m sure she’s the reason why he went ahead. He wanted to make sure she couldn’t leave you.” As she spoke the tears fell out of her eyes even though she kept the smile on her face. I completely broke down in front of her and I could feel the tears roll down my cheeks and over my mouth. The pain—this pain, her pain, all of it— battered me at once. “I’m sorry.” “No. I’m sorry.” She hugged me.

“How? I don’t…We were supposed to have dinner on Thanksgiving?” “He was old. We are old, Malachi. The day trips, keeping his memories, he fought for a long time, and we knew it was coming, which is why I wanted one last Thanksgiving. He loved you both especially. It happened seven days ago, the day after Thanksgiving. I didn’t want to add to your worries. And I couldn’t… I wasn’t ready to see anyone. But now that I know, I’m glad. We won’t have to worry about Esther. When old people die it’s bittersweet, when young people die it’s a tragedy. And if there is anything Kosuke Yamauchi hated, it was tragedy.” Wiping my cheeks, I inhaled deeply and, as I looked back at her, I tried to stand tall even though I felt so weak and small. Releasing Esther’s hand, for I knew if she were awake she’d strangle me if I didn’t, I turned to Kikuko and bowed again as I gave my condolences. “Goshusho-sama desu.” “Remember, Malachi, the secret to a long life is loving to live, knowing suffering for the sake of love isn’t suffering, and finding joy in that. She’ll

come back.” She turned from me and moved to Esther. Placing her hand over Esther’s forehead she said, “Oshaberi, I’m still waiting for my book.” The corner of my mouth turned up at that. “She finished it—” “I’m not reading it until she wakes up,” she said sternly. I nodded and moved the chair for her to sit down. When I looked up, I found that her daughter was already gone and in her place a lunch basket sat on the chair by the door. “Maya’s shy and heartbroken. She’ll come around, I’ll make sure of it. She’s brought you food,” Kikuko said cheerfully lifting a basket. “Let’s eat. Maybe that will get her up.” Nodding, I walked over and picked up the basket and was shocked at how heavy it was. When I brought over to her, she unpacked it and displayed everything in front of Esther. Then she paused, waiting to see if it would actually wake her up. For the second time in over a week I felt like smiling. She reminded me of Esther… She’s right here.

I looked at her again. “Have the doctors said anything?” she asked gently as she handed me a pair of chopsticks. “They don’t know why she’s like this.” I had a feeling her body was ill. Since she’d fallen through the ice, I hadn’t gotten a single memory again and my headache was gone. It was just like those moments when she’d died before me. How nothing hurt anymore, how there was just numbness, and then darkness, and then I’d recall that moment from a new life, in a new place, with a new name. “Don’t lose hope,” she whispered as she placed her hand over mine. “Thank you for—” “I hope you aren’t about to thank me for coming.” She frowned at me and I didn’t say anything in response. “Do you know she sent gifts and cards to everyone last Christmas? Her grandfather had died a little over a month before and she still took the time to show everyone she cared. She called on birthdays, she remembers everyone’s names. She’s family to a lot of people. You can tell that just by looking around the room.”

I hadn’t done that before. I hadn’t looked around the hospital room we’d been staying in until she’d said so. It was only then that I noticed the numerous flowers, cards, bears and balloons that were occupying the space around us. “You don’t thank family for support. That’s what they do,” she reminded me. She was right. Esther and I considered each other family, but the truth was we’d met so many people—well, I’d met so many people through her —they had become a part of our lives. Throughout all our lives people seemed to almost always get in the way of us. They made it harder for us. Which was one of the reasons I tried to not get involved, to not bother myself with others, and Esther, even now, even knowing the fate that hung over our heads, still dove right in to help someone else. I wanted to be angry, but I kept hearing her begging for forgiveness in the back of my mind. She shouldn’t have. Maybe she was a little mad at herself for doing it too, but that was her nature. That was who she was and it was why I’ve always loved her.

“Then thank you for the food,” I whispered to Kikuko before stuffing my mouth full of rice, not really chewing but hoping at least for one moment that I could stuff the pain back down. “Careful!” She poured me water and I coughed and wept and ate anyway.

25. SLEEPING BEAUTY AND THE MANY BEASTS MALACHI DAY SEVENTEEN Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. “She’s crashing!” One of the nurses yelled. “Again?” Dr. Neecey rushed into the room, the same thing she’d done more than five times over the course of the last two, almost three, weeks. I watched paralyzed in horror as Esther shook on top of the bed, her machines telling me, telling us all that she was dying once again. And just like the five other times, she went limp for a few seconds before her heart restarted on its own.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Dr. Neecey gasped. She, like all the others in the room, was emotionally drained and I said nothing to any of them. Taking the washcloth and the warm bowl of water I brought it closer to her and gently wiped her forehead. Quietly, they all left again one by one. “Beloved…” Placing my hand over her cheek, I bent over, my face hovering over hers. I had so much to say and yet the only words that crossed my lips were, “Come back, please.” I was at a loss. Less so than the doctors who had done scans and checked every inch of her, yet she still wasn’t waking up. I was sure now, more than ever, there was nothing they could do and I couldn’t tell them that she was lost in the memories of our past lives. I knew it, I wasn’t sure how I knew it, but something told me she was caught in her own memories. Living and dying over and over again and again. I didn’t know how to bring her back. How to wake up her up. I knew she couldn’t stay here. There was only so much before the doctors would start treating her like a guinea pig.

Maybe she needed to relive all nine hundred and ninety-nine lives before this one? But why? This had never happened before and why just her? What kind of torture was this? “How long have you been torturing my baby?” I turned around at the voice, one I wasn’t expecting nor needed to ever hear again. And yet she spoke again, “Esther, sweetheart? It’s mommy.” Her heels clicked on the ground as she came over to stand at Esther’s bedside. She reached down to touch her but I grabbed her wrist. “Do not touch her,” I said through my teeth. “How dare you! Let go!” She screamed at me as she tried to pull her arm away causing all the bangles on her wrist to jingle. Doing as she asked I released her. Putting the washcloth and bin back down on the side table I got up. “I’m going to say it once: Get out, Diana!” “You must be mistaken, Mr. Lord,” a bald white man with a gray-white mustache dressed in a threepiece suit said as he walked up beside Diana who smirked and crossed her hands under her fur jacket, as he went continued talking. “I’m not sure what

kind of hick hospital this is, but only family should be allowed inside. Are you family, Mr. Lord? Because Diana here is Esther’s mother.” “Really? When did she decide to be that? It couldn’t have been when she abandoned her daughter as an infant in the dead of winter? Or when she tried to kill her as a toddler or rob her as an adult!” “YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!” “LIKE YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HER!” I couldn’t help but holler at her. “Neither of that is important!” The cretin beside her squeezed her arm. “Right now, Esther needs to be near family—” “I AM HER FAMILY.” “Legally you are not. Unless you both are married and we don’t know it—” “Excuse me!” Dr. Neecey angrily marched back into the room. “Whatever is going on here should not be happening in front of my patient. Everyone out, now!” She even looked to me. Biting the inside of my cheek I walked out the room after them and

followed them into the hall. Dr. Neecey closed the door behind her as she came out and looked directly at Diana. “And who are you?” “Diana Noëlle. Esther’s mother, you called me…” “Seventeen days ago.” Dr. Neecey cut in. “And yesterday,” the snake of a man beside her added. “You requested her family history. Ms. Noëlle wasn’t aware that her daughter’s case was so serious.” “Yes,” I added eyeing him carefully. “So serious she brought her lawyer?” Who knew snakes could smile, but he did as he nodded. “I’m an old friend and yes, a lawyer, here in my friend’s time of need—” “Bullshit.” I shook my head, looking down at the woman who was now calling herself Esther’s mother. “This has to do with money, right? You came to see if she was dying, not because you cared, not because you have ever cared, but because of her money!” “My daughter is fighting for her life! And you didn’t even have the wisdom to send her to a better

hospital,” she snapped at me and I never wanted to smack a woman so hard in my life. “Ms. Noëlle, I assure we are a very capable hospital—” “I want my daughter back in New York where she won’t just be in a capable hospital but the BEST hospital!” She shrieked with tears in her eyes. I clapped for her, it was the best I could do with my hands. “You’re really working for that Oscar, Diana!” “Mr. Lord!” Dr. Neecey took a deep breath to calm herself down before she placed her hand on my shoulder. “I understand you are tired, you’ve been at her side every moment since saving her life, but please hold back.” I glanced at her and she gave me a look, begging me to calm down. “And we thank you, Mr. Lord,” the snake said with the same level of fake sincerity as Diana. “But as Esther’s family, Diana has the right to make the best medical decision for her daughter. Doctor, has Esther improved at all?”

“Her condition is sensitive,” she forced herself to say. “A condition you reportedly have no idea how to treat.” “Are you asking as a friend of the family or as a lawyer, Mr.…?” “Cain Pembroke,” he replied. “And I’m asking as a friend for now. As Mrs. Noëlle asked, she’d like her daughter transferred to NYU—” “If you think for one moment…” The rage that rose in my body barely allowed me to speak. My hands balled into fists as I glared at them both. “… that I’ll allow you to make decisions on her behalf, to allow you to take her anywhere, you’ve never met a man who’s willing to give up any and everything before.” Looking directly at the scum of a human in front me I said, “I pray you are a better lawyer than you are a family friend, because I will fight you until she wakes up and exposes you both.” Turning away from the both of them, I grabbed on to the handle of her door when he spoke out again.

“We can get a court order, Mr. Lord.” “Then do it, Mr. Pembroke.” I hadn’t said it. Instead, the words had come from Maya Yamauchi who was coming towards me with her mother’s daily lunch basket. “But do know that I am a better lawyer than family friend, and I’ll contest it. I’ll make it bigger than the Terri Schiavo case.” I didn’t want to hear anymore. She wasn’t a case. This wasn’t a case. It was just Esther. I just wanted her. “You need to let them move her.” Maya came in a few seconds after me and placed the basket on the bedside table. Then she took out her phone and started taking pictures as she spoke. “Let them move her to a bigger hospital where she’ll have all the care she needs. That way they can’t say you aren’t providing the best care for her. From there on we can argue that her mother does not have the right to make a legal—” “If they move her she’ll die,” I whispered as I headed to her bedside and picked up the washcloth, however, the water was cold. Turning on the kettle,

I waited for the water to heat up. “What?” Maya slowly lowered the camera. “What do you mean she’ll die?” “I mean somehow, someway, that woman will kill her. It doesn’t matter if I take Esther to the best doctors in the world, that woman, that lawyer, they will pretend they care and the first chance they get they’ll kill her. It is not a joke, it is not a hyperbole, it is a fact. I do not trust them! Esther and I… Esther and I are holding by a thread, Maya!” My chest ached but I ignored it as I took the kettle and poured it into the bin. “I said I was willing to give up any and everything before, I meant it. I’m not getting wrapped up in their scheme. I’m not going to give them any room to make any choice for her.” “I don’t understand—” “They want her money, Maya! So I’ll give them money!” It was all they cared about. It was why they were really here. “Bribery is only going to—” “I don’t care!” I snapped looking down at Esther as she slept. I hated what I’d have to do but there wasn’t any other way. “Her grandfather,

Alfred, he left me much more than I deserved in his will. Tell her mother I’ll give up all of it as long as she leaves Esther in peace.” “Malachi!” “I’m fighting for her! Not money! But her life! What is money? I don’t need it. I need them gone! Can you do that? If you want to help me can you do that!?!” She looked between us, speechless. Even though Maya, who was still mourning the loss of her father, was usually quiet, she became exceptionally animated as she looked at me. “Okay. I’ll get in contact with Esther’s lawyer. I’m sure, they must have something in place, especially considering—” “Just do it. Do anything,” I said as I sat back down beside Esther and picked up where I’d left off with wiping down her skin. I didn’t care about the how, I just wanted it handled. When she left, the door closed gently behind her and I exhaled and looked down at Esther. “I need you here, now. I need you.” I watched her for a minute. Listening to her

heartbeat and feeling mine beat in rhythm with it. The longer I watched her, the greater my fear grew. The more I worried I wouldn’t be able to protect her. How could I protect her in limbo like this? How long could she stay like this before more doctors came? Before her mother ran out of money and came back again. My fear grew to the point where I was acting before I realized it. Closing the blinds that looked out into the hall, I pushed the couch and the chair I’d been using in front of the door. I used anything that wasn’t bolted down or being used to monitor her for my barricade. “No!” “Ms. Noëlle…” Maya tried to speak calmly, however, her voice was still loud enough that I could hear from behind the door. “Let’s speak somewhere privately—” “I do not need private!” Her shrieking began. “Ms. Noëlle, I have every specialist on your daughter’s case,” Dr. Neecey said. “No one has seen this before and no one has a treatment plan. Moving Esther now is dangerous—”

“THAT IS MY DAUGHTER!” “We understand—” “THEN MOVE!” she yelled, and they must have because the next thing I heard was the doorknob jiggling. “What the…” BANG! BANG! “Open the door!” “Mr. Lord? Mr. Lord, this is dangerous. Open the door. Okay?” Dr. Neecey said gently but I still didn’t move. Maybe I’d gone mad. Maybe I was at the pinnacle of my own desperation, but I wasn’t going to let a single person in. No more doctors. No more people. Just us. Sitting on the edge of her bed I reached into the basket Maya had brought. I picked up an apple and took a bite, as they continued yelling. “That money you tried to bribe us with is my money!” Diana kicked the door. “Ms. Noëlle, please calm down. Esther is still inside—” “DON’T TELL ME TO RELAX! That is my

daughter! You all think he’s such a hero! Look! He’s kidnapping my daughter!” She kicked the doors again. “Let’s see how a judge reacts to this. You aren’t doing this because you care about her. I’m sure you’re scared your meal ticket is going to slip right out of your hands!” “Diana, the courts are closed today, but tomorrow…tomorrow we will be back, Mr. Lord! And this door must be open.” Must it? I thought as I took another bite. Knock. “Malachi?” Knock. “Malachi I know it’s been hard on you for the last few days but this isn’t the way, okay? This only makes everything harder.” Finishing the apple, I threw it into the wastebasket near the door and shifted to lay on the edge of the bed beside her. I rested my head on my right arm and placed my left arm over her. I watched her, listening to her heartbeat steadily before my eyes closed. DAY EIGHTEEN Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep. “MALACHI, OPEN THE DOOR!” Dr. Neecey panicked as the machines went off like they normally did. Getting off the bed I walked over and turned off the machine completely. It was useless and only ended up giving us all anxiety. Turning around I placed my hands on Esther’s wrist and checked for a pulse just to make sure that she was there. Her breathing relaxed again. “Malachi, is she alright?” she asked and I still couldn’t find the words. Part of me felt like I was stuck autopilot: aware, but unable to control myself. I didn’t want anything other than to keep her safe, to give her time to come back… Knock. “Malachi? It’s me, Maya,” I knew who she was, her voice hadn’t changed. “Esther never filed a power of guardianship, even though that went against her lawyer’s advice. She simply stated that should she die her personal assets would go to varies charities. She did however leave the

company to you should she pass! Since she’s in a coma, her mother still retains legal guardianship over her. But, we can fight this, I can argue Esther would have wanted you to be her guardian since she left her company to you, but you’re making things worse by locking yourself inside.” “Malachi? It’s Officer Richards. David. We know you’re just looking out for her but we’ve got a job to do, man—” “Why is everyone acting as if this man is sane? He’s obviously not okay and he has my daughter in there!” The screeching began. “Ma’am, with all due respect he is the one who jumped into a frozen lake to save your daughter!” David snapped ironically, not sounding even a little bit respectful. “You all are—just open the door!” Diana hollered at them. “The doors open inwards, and he’s barricaded —” “Break it open!” “Excuse me, this is a hospital! We can’t have people breaking down doors!” Dr. Neecey yelled

back. “Open it or we’ll find someone who can,” the snake finally spoke up. “Officer Richards, we called because Mr. Lord is currently breaking the law. Yet all of you are standing here defending him. If anything happens to Esther, I’ll make sure to sue you all to kingdom come.” “You keep throwing your weight around as though you’re the only one with a law degree, Mr. Pembroke,” Maya, no longer quiet or shy, retorted. “I am the only one following the law!” They went on like this while I simply turned to Esther and brushed the curls off her face. I kissed her forehead and then her lips. It was the only thing I could think to do. BANG! My head turned to the door as one of the chairs on top of the couch fell down from the force in which they pounded against the doors. They were really putting their bodies into it. Taking a deep breath, I faced her again and placed my forehead on hers. Taking her hands, I held them between us. “Beloved…”

BANG! “If you’re going…then go…” BANG! “…you know I’ll follow.” BANG! “But if you’re here… Baby, if you’re here, if you want this life to be our last…” BANG! “Then I need you to wake up. Come back to me.” Just as the doors opened wide enough for them to get through I felt her hand squeeze mine. “Esther?” “Get him away from her!” “ESTHER!” Before I could feel her squeeze again they pulled me away from her and Dr. Neecey ran to Esther’s side and turned back on the machines. “NO! SHE’S WAKING UP! SHE’S WAKING UP! ESTHER!” “I want him out!” Diana yelled in my face as she rushed in front of me. “Malachi, calm down!” But I couldn’t. Seeing them walking towards

her. Knowing they’d hurt her… I could see it in their eyes, like all those who’d hurt us in the past, their selfishness was as clear as day. “GET AWAY FROM HER!” “GET OUT!” Beep. Beep. Beeppppppppppppppp… “GET THE CRASH CART!” Breaking free of their arms, I tried to reach her. It was like déjà vu, watching as they ripped open her shirt and charged the defibrillator once more. David and another officer pulled me away from her. “ESTHER!” “Clear!” Dr. Neecey said and once again, just like last time, it felt as if the electricity had been applied directly to me. The shock was so piercing, so excruciating, my knees buckled underneath me. This was the answer. We were going. Right now. Right here. I’d had a feeling but… “Malachi? Malachi?! Doctor!” Laying on my side I looked up at her bed, at

her. “…Esther…” As my vision began to tunnel, I could only make the same promise over again. I’ll find you. I’ll love you. I swear it.

26. A Ω MALACHI Timeless - The Garden of Good Birds. I heard birds. I smelled fresh flowers and rain, even though I did not feel rain. Instead, I felt the warmth of the sun above and the plush cool grass below. Gentle winds blew the crispest air I’d ever breathed. Even without opening my eyes, I knew I was surrounded by beauty. That it was paradise. I wanted to stay and rest here when I remembered her again. My eyes snapped open. I expected the sun to blind me or force me to close my eyes once again, but it wasn’t like that. In fact, I saw the glowing sphere, I felt the warmth of it, but it didn’t burn to look at. It just hung in the blue sky. Where am I?

“Home.” I knew that voice…but I shouldn’t have heard it again unless… I sat up, turning right to where I’d heard the voice of Alfred. And sure enough, there he was, dressed in all white, kneeling in front of a bush to pick berries. Each time he’d picked one, another would grow its place. “I died,” I whispered. “This is death, Alfred?” “Yes, you did. You should be used to it by now. Come on, we have a lot of work to do,” he replied as he rose from the ground. I noticed his clothes weren’t stained. Seeing his clothes made me look at mine, but I was still wearing the hospital sweats I was given. He handed me one of his baskets and pointed across from me. “Foxes?” I said watching the small orange fur balls with black legs wrestle and tackle one another. I looked back to find Alfred, but he was already gone. “Okay. I’m dead, and now I’m feeding foxes berries. Make sense.” I nodded to myself and walked over to the pack of them. Upon hearing me approach, they all

stopped and turned their heads to me—a dozen little orange fur balls with dark eyes pinpointed on me. For some reason, I just wanted to mess with them. So, I dashed left then I dashed right, watching as they moved from side to side, trying to anticipate where I’d be next before they collectively got fed up with my antics and just made a charge for it, jumping in unison for the basket, and me. The berries flew up to the sky as I landed right back on the ground. “Patience is a virtue,” I told them with a laugh, as they ate the berries around me. I sat up and picked one of them up, brushing through fur before handing it a berry. “Slow down!” I said as I watched them scarf down berries. And when they were done, they rushed off. By the time I got back on my feet again, a dozen rabbits hopped out and they all stared at me, waiting. I stared back. “What?” One of them came out hopping into the now empty berry basket. Not only am I now talking to animals…I think I understand them? It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing

to happen to me. So, just like I’d seen Alfred do, I picked the berries till the basket was full before giving it the rabbits. After I finished with them came the birds, then the deer, then the bears… I became so used to turning around and seeing a new group that when I turned around and saw nothing but the gardens I was a little stunned. “Nicely done,” Alfred said suddenly walking up beside me and taking a berry for himself to eat. “Where am I? Was I sent to animal heaven instead? Forced to feed berry-loving animal souls for the rest of entirety?” He laughed. “And if this was animal heaven, what would you do?” “Nothing. Here isn’t bad…It’s the opposite of bad…It’s just…” I trailed off as I watched the sky darken to a deep purple-pink hue while the sun slowly began to set. It was beautiful…Esther would have stared in awe. “Esther. You miss Esther.” Her name. For some reason I looked around to see if she was here, but she wasn’t. Which was good.

“You look relieved.” “Aren’t you?” I questioned, looking over to him. “If she isn’t here, she must be alive. She’s the better person between us.” “She could be in the heaven for man,” he joked and I rolled my eyes but laughed too. “Then she’d demand you get a message to me.” Knowing her, she’d give up wherever she was to find me, to stay with me. Was she alright? I didn’t want her to be sad. I didn’t want to leave her, but at least the cycle was over. “It’s finally over, Alfred, and yet I’m still clueless. Why did this happen? What were we being punished for? I have so many questions. I thought death came with the answers.” “For you to get answers you have to ask questions, don’t you think so, Malachi?” he replied and walked over to a bench I had not noticed before. He took a seat in front the tree, leaned back and looked to me. “Why don’t you ask?” “Ask who? You?” “Yes, I do remember you thinking once about settling this like men?” I stared at the old-age covered brown face of

the man I’d considered my father. “I am your father, just not Alfred.” Could one be shocked in Heaven? “Yes,” he answered with a smile on his face. When he closed his eyes, I felt the breeze and warmth of the air blow by. “Do you know how many people demand answer to questions they do not ask me? They speak to themselves, or others, but never to me. And when no answers are given to the questions that aren’t asked, many decide to come up with one themselves. Like who is it that said you were being punished?” It was at that I found myself able to speak again. “One thousand times. I have died one thousand times, each after meeting the love of my life. You—we wanted to be together and yet we were torn apart by—” “The world around you,” he answered, eyes now open as he looked directly at me. “The darkness entered the world by you both, kept you apart time and time again. Anger, hate, jealously, greed—that which seeks to destroy love.” “Darkness I let into the world? Me? I’m not…”

I trailed off, trying to think and I looked up and around me. “This is the Garden of Eden?” “It has been called many things, but I call it the Garden of Good. All that is good resides here. You resided here as Adam: the man. Taking care of all that was here, just as you did now, and at the end, you wished for a companion for yourself. Just like now.” “Esther and I are Adam and Eve?” I couldn’t believe it and yet, that meant… “And you are…” “Adonai, Allah, Bahá, the Deity, Elohim, Krishna. I am called many different things as you know Malachi, for you have called me many things, and each I have heard you.” “If you heard,” I whispered slowly hanging my head. “If you heard, why didn’t you help us? Why did you—” “You didn’t need help.” “One thousand—” “One thousand times, you called to love, as I told you to love, and you loved.” “I didn’t want a thousand time!” I put my hand over my face. “I just—I just wanted one. One good

happy one. Why couldn’t she and I have that? You asked me who told me I was being punished? No one needed to tell me. I felt it. I watched the person I love die and die and die before dying myself. If that was not punishment, then what was it?!” “Sacrifice,” he answered, lifting a baby deer that appeared onto his lap. “You and Eve were punished after being removed from this garden. You lived that one life, in hardship and sorrow, you died and your sins were paid. I welcomed you back then as I did now, and you both asked to do more for those who would not see this garden. You asked to show them love, what it looked like, what it called for, and you showed it to them over and over again. You sacrificed for those who came after you to know love. You asked for this. I did not punish you, the pain you felt, was from the arrogance, envy, stinginess, jealousy, greed, pride, anger, hatred, and lust of the world. A thousand times it came and a thousand times, you both stood as soldiers for love. Which is why the bodies passed away and you both became immortal among them. Do you not remember what Esther said?”

I did then. I heard her voice clearly again. Your love, your life, has inspired millions—no billions— of people to love foolishly…selfishly… unreasonably, with no regard for anyone or anything else. And because of that, when we see fireworks, when we see true love, we must stop what we’re doing and respect it enough to just let it be, to watch it dominate the sky, we stare in awe of fireworks. “What was different about this life and all the others?” I didn’t have the answer that I needed. “No one was there to stop you two, Malachi. You weren’t on opposite sides. No one was keeping you apart. Your obstacle was your own fear. And when you overcame it, you were together. The world has changed because you both had the courage to answer love when it called. And now it’s done. This is it. Your last life. Enjoy it. Remember what you did to earn it. Esther is waiting.” “What? I thought—” I reached out to catch the object he tossed to me and I when I did, I knew then without a doubt that God has a twisted sense of both irony and humor. Shaking my head, I stared

at the apple in my hand, knowing he’d already left. “Thank you,” I said, before taking a bite.

ESTHER November 19th - Lieber Falls, Montana I saw myself—my selves—Pompeii, Camelot, Luxor, Seoul, Verona, Paris, Tenochtitlan, Lahore, Beijing, Obokwu, St. James Parish, London. On and on, I found myself spinning, falling, laughing, sobbing, begging, pleading, and dying. I felt it all over and over again, until I found myself standing in a garden. A gentle breeze blew over me. “Well done,” A voice that sounded like my grandfather said to me before I heard Malachi. “Esther…” His voice was faint. Malachi? His name was both adrenaline and novocaine to my heart, easing the pain and making it race, all at the same time. “I need you to wake up.” He felt so close.

“Come back to me.” I didn’t leave. I’m here. “ESTHER!” He was in pain. He was in pain. I’m here! I’ll find you. I’m HERE! I’ll love you, I’ll swear it. MALACHI! When I opened my eyes, the light was blinding, so I closed them only for a second. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat burned, yet even then I called out. “M…Malachi!” As I gasped for air, an older woman flashed a light into my eyes and I tried to sit up but everything hurt. My body felt like stone. “Esther? Esther, can you hear me?” “Malachi!” I called again as I reached for my chest, trying to figure out why it hurt so badly. But there were wires everywhere on my hands and on my chest. I didn’t understand. Everything just hurt. I didn’t know where I was and I couldn’t see him. Panicking, I tried to pull them off. “Esther, calm down! Esther, I’m your doctor.

Sidney Neecey. You fell through the ice at the Lieber Pond. I promise everything will make sense. I just need you to calm down, alright?” She held my hands to stop me from pulling at the wires. I looked at her for a long time before I swallowed the saliva that had pooled in my mouth. “W…Where…is…M…Mal…achi…?” She looked over at the other people around me who were all dressed in green scrubs but none of them were him. They nodded to her, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. Or why there were so many people around us. “Esther?” I glanced over to the doorway where my mother was standing and just the sight of her face made my heart race and caused the monitors to go off. Reaching up to my chest, my heart hurt so badly I found myself hunching over. “Doctor…” “Yes?” She leaned in close. “Get her out,” I begged. I wasn’t sure why, but seeing her was upsetting, more so than normal. “She’s leaving. Just breathe. We’re going to run

some tests, okay?” “Then Malachi?” “Yes. Then Malachi.” “Okay.” I’d do anything if it meant I could see him. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but he needed me and right now I needed him too. She spent her time checking my heart rate. One nurse helped me put on the top half of my gown while another nurse gave me a cup of ice chips. I took them, and while they helped, she knew I needed more than ice and she tried to give me a cup of water with a straw. I took the cup, sat up, and drank from it. I wasn’t sure why they were so shocked. Dr. Neecey ran something sharp over my feet and I pulled my legs away. “Can someone explain now?” I asked, my voice still hoarse. They looked at each other, and I stretched out my arms as I handed her the cup. I felt awkward and tried to joke. “I think I need to start working out or something. Swimming, even in a frozen lake, shouldn’t make me this sore.” “Esther.” “Yes?” I looked to the only doctor speaking.

“You’ve been in a coma—” “A coma? How long? Where’s Malachi?” I tried to get up again, and for the second time she stopped me. “Today would have been eighteen days. We don’t know what caused it. However, you still shouldn’t be so…active.” “Malachi did stretch her out twice a day,” one of the nurses jumped in to point out but Dr. Neecey gave her a look. “You’ve answered everything, but Malachi? Where is he?” She sighed. “He’s fine. He’s stable.” “Stable?” I started to panic again. “What made him unstable?” “Esther, if you want to see Malachi, I need you to relax, at least until we know what’s going on with you—” “Doctor, I’m fine. I’ll do whatever tests you want but not until you tell me what happened to him.” “He…he…your mother came and wanted to take you back to New York for better care. Malachi tried to stop her but she came with a court order,

and so he barricaded himself inside here with you. The police were called because we were all worried that he might do something…drastic. He wasn’t sleeping and was scared for you—” “What did you all do to him?” My voice was shaking and my eyes burned from the tears I was trying to fight back. “The police pulled him away from you and he went into cardiac arrest. But he’s going to be alright…Esther!” I didn’t care what they said. I started pulling wires off me. She tried to stop me again for the third time, but I pushed her away. I kicked the sheets off of me and rose from the bed. I guess I really had been in a coma because my legs felt like jelly under me and before I could fall forward, I grabbed on to the rail of the bed to steady myself. “Come on!” I yelled at my legs. “Esther! You need to—” “I need to get to him!” I snapped at her as I forced myself to walk. The room was a mess, but it gave me things to grab onto as I walked towards the door. I gripped the doorframe and drew in a deep

breath. When I stepped out, I saw her, my mother, standing next to some middle-aged white man. Her arms were crossed and she was busy muttering something to him. “Diana,” I called out to her. She jumped and then looked over to me. It seemed like the whole hospital was watching us, which was why she must have put on such a large smile and opened her hands as she walked towards me. “Esther…sweetheart.” “I forgive you!” I yelled at her as I pushed off the door and stood in front of her. “Whatever you were planning, whatever you were thinking, thank God Malachi stopped you because the amount of bad karma you are collecting will come back to you one day. And on that day, I will hope you come back to your senses and get over your anger and bitterness.” “I came because—” “Because you are in debt,” I said. I felt dizzy but held my ground anyway. “I had you

investigated before I left New York, Diana. You got sucked into a Ponzi scheme and can’t pay off your gambling debts, or shopping debts, or rent—” “Esther, sweetheart—” “I will always be your daughter and when you want to act like a mother, please let me know. Until then, let’s go our own paths.” Walking around her to the nurses’ station, I held onto the frame of the desk and asked, “Malachi Lord? What room?” “The one right next door,” she said as everyone within the wing pointed to the door. “Thank you.” I looked around at them and I tried to walk, but I was tired. All of sudden, a very familiar voice called out to me. “Oshaberi.” “Mrs. Yamauchi?” I grinned as she hugged me and her wrinkled hands touched my face. “You came?” “Of course! You owe me a book.” I nodded. “I do.” “Esther?” I looked up to see a thin woman, who looked a lot like Kikuko, come up behind her. “I’m

Maya Yamauchi, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Do you need help?” “Hi. Yes.” I smiled at her as she put her hand over my shoulder and helped me walk. But she wasn’t alone. Murphy, dressed in her police uniform came to my other side and helped me walk inside. David, who was also dressed in his uniform, held the door open for all of us to enter Malachi’s room. “You two always make our town a little too lively,” Murphy whispered as I stared at Malachi. He was as handsome as ever even with his messy hair and unshaven face and dark circles around his eyes. “What can I say, we are lively people,” I whispered once I got to the edge of his bed. My hand reached up and brushed his hair from his face. “You hear that? We’re lively, we’re alive.” Turning back to them I smiled. “Thank you, everyone.” “Esther, no, thank you,” Murphy said on the verge of tears as she stood beside David. “You saved so many people that day. When you

feel up to it, I’m sure everyone will want to come by if that’s okay?” David said. I nodded as I looked back to Malachi. “That would be nice. Will you fill me in on everything I’ve missed in the last eighteen days?”'

MALACHI “‘An hour ago, I thought that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. But ten minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm.’—William Goldman. I couldn’t have said better myself if I tried. ‘At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.’—Plato. That one should be your motto, Mr. Lord. ‘I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.’—Charles Dickens.

Okay, scratch Plato, that one is your motto, we should see about getting it copyrighted or something.” She giggled and her voice was soft. It was also so close that it was as though she were speaking into my ear. “Malachi? Malachi, love, wake up.” Opening my eyes, I found myself staring up at a white ceiling for the briefest of seconds before her smiling face blocked my view. Her curls dropped down around her and her brown eyes were filled with glee. “I knew you were waking up.” I stared at her beautiful face and reached up to touch it. “We died.” I finally found the voice to speak. “We did.” She nodded but still grinned. “Did you meet him…in the garden?” “He gave me an apple.” I whispered. “And now we’re alive again,” she said. She placed her hand on my face and I could feel it. Oh…god…. “Esther. You’re Esther.”

She laughed and hugged me. “Yes. And you’re Malachi. We’re still us. We’re still here.” “HA!” I laughed and hugged her to me. “You’ve both aged me at least a decade, do you know that?” Esther moved slightly for me to see, but I didn’t let her get far. Dr. Neecey came into the room holding a chart and looked us both over. She did indeed look exhausted and the bags under her eyes were proof of that. But I couldn’t help but grin. “Doctor?” I asked when she came over and took hold of my wrist to check my pulse. “I have three questions.” “Hold on.” She put the stethoscope to my chest and listened for far too long, so I looked to Esther who smiled back down at me. “Alright. What are your questions?” “First, is she alright?” “You do realize you had a heart attack and I’m checking on you right now?” I smirked at that. “I do, but I need to make sure I’m not hallucinating.” She sighed and shook her head at us both. “We

checked her from head to toe and other than her brain scan she’s completely normal. Your second question?” “How long have I been out?” “A few hours, which isn’t unusual seeing as you haven’t been sleeping well.” Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and relaxed as she asked. “And your third question?” Opening my eyes, I looked directly at her. “Is there some sort of chaplain here?” She frowned and I felt Esther turn, but I didn’t look at her yet. Grinning I replied. “I’d like to marry this woman before either of our hearts decides to give out on us again…” Esther stared at me with wide eyes. “If she’ll have me of course.” She laughed and hugged me again. “Do you even have to ask?” “You wouldn’t want to the good doc thinking I was rude now, would you?” I laughed, but bit my lip as I pressed my cheek against her face while she started to cry on top of me. “I’ll check and come back,” Dr. Neecey said softly before she turned and left us alone.

I shifted for Esther, who was still crying on top of me. She wrapped her arms around me and I followed suit as we both lay on our sides. “Esther, I haven’t seen your eyes in days…look at me please.” She shook her head sniffling. “Ah! My heart…” Her head snapped up and when I laughed, she looked ready to smack me. But I sat up the best I could and kissed her lips quickly. Her anger faded and she laid back down, her face only inches away from mine. “I gave this to you,” she whispered reaching up to touch my scar. “You remember?” She nodded. “I remember everything. We began in Pompeii.” “And we’ll end in this life, looking at each other just like this in eighty years.” “Eighty years?” She gasped and laughed. “You’ll be well over a hundred.” “That sounds about right.” I pinched her cheek. “I’m sure someone will keep me alive for a long

time.” She reached up and touched my hand. “You’re confident that this is our last life.” I nodded. “Why?” “Many reasons.” She pouted and I grinned. “Share.” “Because we already died. Because you already remember and we are still here. Because I feel it. Because I want it. And most importantly…” I thought of them, of all the people who fought for us, defended us and tried to help us. “Most importantly what?” Her eyes were so sincere that part of me wanted to tease her more, but I couldn’t. “Most importantly, Esther, for the first time history, we live in a world that lets us love, no matter our class status, our families, our skin tone, or our backgrounds. We aren’t involved in a war. After almost two thousand years and one thousand lives, we are free to love each other. That’s what’s different.” “My family threatened to get in between—”

“Diana gave birth to you, but she is not your mother. She isn’t family. Either way, she tried and she failed.” She relaxed as if I’d taken a burden off of her shoulders by saying what she already knew. “We’re going to live this life to the fullest because we aren’t getting another one.” She grinned as she came closer to me. Holding her in my arms I nodded, but then I remembered what she was saying as I was waking up. “You were reading me love quotes?” She chuckled. “Yeah, I couldn’t think of the right words to say to you and remembered writers have been saying the perfect thing for generations.” “Didn’t you once tell me that you were writing this generation’s greatest novel?” She glanced up glared at me. “Are you teasing me, Mr. Lord?” “Just a little bit.” I nodded and before she could even frown or pout I said, “‘When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to

work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No...don't blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away. Doesn't sound very exciting, does it? But it is!’—Louis de Bernières.” She was quiet for minutes, which seemed like hours before she finally said, “‘Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.’—Emily Brontë.” I laughed. I laughed so hard she shook with me. “Did you spend all that time thinking of a quote to quote back?” She nodded and laughed too. “And you chose Brontë.” I shook my head. “Such an English major.” “You were an English major too!”

As we argued I thought, yes, I could do this for the rest of my long life. I would. We would. “Are you listening to me?” she asked and I had to look down at her as she eyed me carefully. “Yes…no…I zoned out there for a second.” She made a face. “I’m thinking of writing a new book.” “You haven’t even published your first one.” “I’m working on it!” she said proudly nodding her head. “What do you think if I publish our story?” “Our story?” She bit her lip and nodded in excitement as she sat up. “You’ve told our stories, what if I tell the world the truth about you and me. They will never believe it, but still…what if?” “What are you going to call it, “The neverending love story of Malachi and Esther?” She smiled and shook her head. “Malachi and I.”

Discover More by J.J. McAvoy Ruthless People Series RUTHLESS PEOPLE THE UNTOUCHABLES AMERICAN SAVAGES A BLOODY KINGDOM DECLAN + CORALINE (prequel novella) Children of Vice Series (Ruthless People spinoff) CHILDREN OF VICE CHILDREN OF AMBITION – coming soon Single Title Romances MALACHI AND I BLACK RAINBOW THAT THING BETWEEN ELI AND GWEN SUGAR BABY BEAUTIFUL

About the Author J.J. McAvoy was born in Montreal, Canada and graduated from Carleton University in 2016 with an honour’s degree in Humanities. She is the oldest of three and has loved writing for years. Her works are inspired by everything from Shakespearean tragedies to modern pop culture. Her first novel, Ruthless People, was a runaway bestseller. Currently she’s traveling all across the world, writing, looking for inspiration, and meeting fans. To get in touch, please stay in contact via her social media pages, which she updates regularly. http://jjmcavoy.com/ https://www.facebook.com/iamjjmcavoy/ https://twitter.com/JJMcAvoy