Part Four: Mandy
The air was sticky and clouds were sprinkled throughout the sky, making the
field darker than when it was normal sunny and bright. Her straight blonde
hair was thrown up into a loose pony tail and much of it had come undone,
falling in sections all around her face. She squealed a bit as she popped a
wheelie on her four wheeler, the boys from down the street calling her name
over and over. She was 16 years old and still a Tom-boy.
I stood on the corner, by one of the blossoming orange trees that grew on
her parents farm, watching her, listening to her squeaky voice and her truck
driver mouth. She was one of the boys, unfeminine, determined, stubborn,
harsh. They were all words to describe Amanda. Yet there was something
else about her that was startling, in a way. The way she looked into people
’s eyes when she talked to them. The way she seemed like she had no fear
and didn’t care what others thought. The way she was so comfortable with
herself that she made other people comfortable as well. And the way she
laughed. It was addictive, contagious, and when I heard her screaming and
giggling on her four wheeler, I laughed myself, some of my jealousy fading.
She came closer to me on her four wheeler, and perhaps sensing something,
she stopped it and hopped off, quickly wiping sweat and dirt off her face
and taking a deep breath. Mandy looked up at the clouds and sighed,
suddenly wondering if this was everything her life would be. This town,
these boys, this desperation she was feeling in her gut. She longed for
something so much more. She longed for fun and excitement. But most of
all, she longed for companionship, someone who understood her and didn’t
look at her as if they were intimidated.
She sighed and jumped back on her bike, revving the engine and skidding
away, leaving a trail of dirt and dust behind her and on top of me. I
walked closer to the tree and pulled down an orange blossom, trying hard to
cross into another world and inhaling a sweet smell that gave me shivers and
brought the corners of my lips upward. Nick would meet her and fall in love
with her. He would love her for a long time. And even though there would
be good with the bad as there was with every human relationship, I was still
worried. Because I knew that Nick wouldn’t choose wisely with her, and by
hurting her, he would hurt himself even more deeply.
*****
I stood back and witnessed it all, most of the time standing side by side
with Mandy’s guide, Henri, who was a small French man who constantly smoked,
wore a beret, and had an infectious laugh as well. When he disapproved of
something someone he watched over would do, he would take his cigarette out
from his teeth, flick it, and then throw it on the ground, stamping it out
in disgust, saying Le seigneur dans le ciel under his breath.
He had waved to me from across the room, where he sat at a breakfast nook,
watching the same scene I watched myself. The way she had looked up at him
when she answered the door, her yellow shoes slipped onto her feet, her hair
falling wildly around her face, her big brown eyes innocent and longing. We
had seen the way they smiled at each other like two shy children afraid to
take a step forward because they may fall off the earth. We witnessed the
way his grin captivated her, and the way she bit her bottom lip when she was
nervous make him giddy.
When Nick was with Mandy he didn’t feel like he was any different than
anyone else. He felt that he was finally loved the way he deserved to be
loved, and that she would love him unconditionally. In fact, many times he
felt small compared to her.
When Mandy was with Nick she felt like she had been rescued. He had walked
in, swept her off her feet and was carrying her away to a distant land that
she had only dreamed of.
He was getting more famous by the minute, swarms of girls worldwide flocking
to hear him sing, see his face, watch him move. He loved the attention,
though not understanding it. But none of those girls did what Mandy did.
He wasn’t in love with any of them, and Mandy was the first one who he fell
for, who did it for him, who was different than the rest. And somehow he
knew that he exerted that same type of power over her, that she would do
whatever she could to hold onto him.
It was embarrassing that he took full advantage, taking every girl possible
and yet still holding onto the one he was in love with. He knew that he
could, knew that he had saved her in very much the same way she had saved
him.
Everyone Mandy knew thought that she had made the catch of the century,
going so much higher than she had ever hoped for. Although she cursed them
deep inside for ever doubting her, she concurred. She had been lucky. But
she had also been smart, almost planned to fall in love with him. And
although she knew she had been quick-handed, she did not for one minute
doubt that she was in love with the young man. She loved everything he did,
the way he moved, the way he touched her, the way he made her feel whole.
She was determined to never let go and to do everything in her power to keep
him. She looked away when he hurt her, although she burned with rage and
jealousy almost comparable to my own. Mandy knew that he did not love the
girls he used. Yet something deep within her raged at the thought that
there was a chance anyone else could captivate him and take him away. She
wanted him always with her, by her side, showing her the way in the darkness
of what had been her life; life without him.
Ceci a besoin d'arręter. A year after their initial meeting, Henri stood
with his hands on his hips, his beret tilting a bit lower over his right eye
than normal. “Jou need to get heem to stop thees.” He said with a heavy
French accent.
I shook my head at the small man. “I’ve tried, Henri. Really I have. And
every chance, which isn’t very often, that I get to talk to him, I try. And
he always says that he’ll stop, that he’ll do her right, and then he doesn’
t.”
Mandy’s Spirit Guide waved his cigarette at me in a huff. “I hate thees.”
He shook his head looking down at the floor. “I hate zat we cannot do a
theeng. I hate that zey don’t leesen to us at all. Vwhy deed zey choose us
then, Mees Aurora? Vwhen vwill zey see?” He threw his cigarette to the
floor, repeating, Ceci a besoin d'arręter.
It was Henri’s first time as a Spirit Guide, and he was struggling. “All
that we can do is try to help, mon ami, and then all we can do is hope they
listen. And if they don’t, I suppose half of this life is choice, isn’t
it?” I walked to my new friend, resting my arm on his shoulder. He looked
into my eyes and seemed so hurt. “She’ll be alright, Ahnnie. I know she
will. She has a strong soul. Think about the last life. The way she
suffered and was accused and murdered. This will be a piece of cake
compared to that.”
He looked into my eyes with a glimmer of hope. He, like
many of us, was afraid he would fail her in some way.
“You theenk she ees strong enough? She loves ‘eem, Aurora. Sometimes eet
hurts me she loves ‘eem so deeply.”
I nodded, truly believing what I was saying. This was Mandy’s last life.
She had only a few more things to accomplish and we were all sure she would
have no trouble with them. There were only a few loose strings to tie up
for her. I had grown to love Mandy, although so many things about her
bothered me. But I knew what she had gone through in other lives, the way
she had to fight so hard. She deserved a break in her last. She would get
it eventually, but the next few years ahead would be rough for. But nothing
at all she couldn’t handle, couldn’t chalk up and take a deep breath and
move onward from. I was just sad that she wouldn’t end up with Nick. Sad
that they would abuse each other until there was nothing left at all. How
odd it was that earthly love could be so close to earthly hate.
Courageux. I said simply, turning away from Henri. Facing the couple
getting ready for another argument in Nick’s hotel room.
And then Nick and Mandy began fighting again. Henri took a deck of cards
from his pocket and began dealing to the two of us, sighing deeply and
shaking his head. I sat across from him and tried to block out the sound as
well. But couldn’t block out the sound of Nick’s thoughts, angry and
violent, and it was so unlike his soul, it made me shiver.
*****
He had always been so mild mannered, always so eager to impress her and
please her, always loving her so deeply and strongly and unwaveringly. How
was it that this little girl, this nothing of a girl had changed all that,
Jane could not figure out.
“Fuck you, Jane.” He had said to her. It was hardly the vulgar words that
had stung her as much as the fact that he had taken to calling her by her
first name. She had slapped his face, reaching up and doing it firmly and
quickly. He flinched only slightly and then curled his lips into a hateful
smile.
His voice was deep and silken. He had gotten this attitude, this defiance,
from that girl. She knew it. “You’re not my mother.” His eyes were
glaring, almost glazed over. “You’ve never been my mother.”
When he left the kitchen, Jane slumped down into a dining room chair. She
wondered when she had lost control, if she had ever had it in the first
place. Jane was losing her son. And he was the most important thing in her
life. More important than her other children and her husband and everything
else she could even imagine. She had to hold onto him any way she could.
Part Five
Spirit Guide
NinasFiction
NinasFeet
