Streaming

Her face was streaming when I found her. Streaming with tears or just the rain, I wasn’t entirely sure.

Then the look, the look she gave me — those large, dark, blue eyes of hers so distant. It was as if she’d never known me, and I’d just intruded on her in this vast, empty park.

As my dear friend, I wanted to put my arms around her, take her home.

But that look. I didn’t dare touch her. She had that look of a cornered, feral creature. I’d trespassed on something. I’m not sure what, but I wasn’t welcome in this moment of solitude she’d carved out for herself.

So, I stood there in the rain. I could wait her out. No words. Just silent company. I figured it was the least I could do.

* * *

Since we found each other some time ago, Ellette has been ever present in my life. Yet, we know only the barest basics about one another. The day to day, the habits, likes and dislikes, we know intimately. You can’t live in a tiny apartment together for the better part of a year without gaining that comfortable knowledge of one another. Our pasts, though, our lives before the here and now, we don’t talk about.

I figure hers is as pained as mine. I don’t ask, don’t pry. Its none of my business. She’s a quiet girl, and I’ll let her keep it that way if she chooses to be.

It does, though, make it difficult, considering some of the experiences we’ve shared. We’ve grown very close over the winter, or at least... I think we have. I’d like to take things further, I’d like to... well, you know. Be more than friends.

Nothing changes, though. She jokes, teases, has her moody moments, but at any hint of intimacy, it just stops. She’s quite skilled at changing the conversation, finding an excuse, avoiding.

I don’t push. I don’t dare. I care about her too much... but I want to know what it is... what the source of this hesitance is. More importantly, I want to know more about her, to feel free to ask. I just... can’t.

Then, out of the blue... she was gone.

* * *

I felt her gaze find me after some time. I was hesitant to look down where she sat, to meet those eyes. She said nothing.

My hands were aching from the cold. I couldn’t imagine how she could stand it. She was thin and wore just her basic tee shirt and jeans. Nothing to protect against this chill and wet.

I turned ever so slightly, lowering my gaze to hers. I nearly jumped when she spoke.

“It always rains...” she started, then her voice trailed off, and I wondered what I’d missed. Her eyes had shifted from me to look out over the rolling green of the park.

I almost opened my mouth, almost asked, when she spoke again.

“Rain. She said it cleanses the world. Washes it all way,” she shook her head, sadly. “I wish... I felt that way...” she sighed softly, shifting in her position on the grass.

“Before she got sick, we lived together. I’d never had so much fun... never felt so... complete, so whole.”

A small smile graced her lips now, and she looked up at me. My heart caught under that look. “I feel like that with you...”

“Ellette...” my response was a breathy utterance. I put my hand out to her, to help her up. I wanted to get her home, to get out of this cold. It was seeping into my bones, my hands would be stiff for days. Ellette, though, she wasn’t nearly as cold tolerant as I was. I could see the tinge of blue to her lips, the bright red flush to those pale cheeks. She would be sick after this, I had no doubt.

She shook her head. She wasn’t done yet.

“No. I need to stay, until the rain is over. Wash it away...”

* * *

One day, she just didn’t come home. At first, I just assumed she’d gotten distracted, forgotten to call. It wasn’t any big deal. I was actually pretty happy for her. She fits in well enough, and was happy to be with people... but she wasn’t outgoing. She didn’t do anything unless she just happened to be invited along. It’s not that she’s not confident... she’s not afraid of... well, anything. She just doesn’t look to socialize unless there’s some other purpose or motivation to do so.

Most nights, I’d drag her out to one of my gigs or to some underground show just so she wouldn’t be at home writing in that journal of hers. Not that there is anything wrong with that... I’m happy she has a hobby. It just seems like such a solitary one. Besides, I figure we found each other for a reason. Dragging her out to live life a little more can’t hurt.

So, one night out without calling was a little odd, but I didn’t think much of it. We’re both adults, just roommates, only friends.

When I came home from work the next day, though, and still no sign, that’s when I began to worry. Ellette has this...talent. Or curse. I’m not sure. When she dreams, her dreams are more than just realistic. They are real. She steps into the lives of other people, most the time as a sort of aide or guide to them. Though she can’t die, can’t really be hurt in one of these dreams... that doesn’t mean someone from her dreams can’t come find in the waking world.

After all, that’s how I found her.

Roxie thought I was crazy. Not that that was anything new. She’d written me off as crazy a long time before that. I was determined, though, to find this girl who’d saved me and disappeared. Eventually I did. We’ve been fairly inseparable ever since, Ellette and I.

Then she disappeared again, and I began to wonder, to worry, who else might have found her. Though Ellette is, in many ways an angel, be it something of a fallen angel, to those she finds in her dreamwalks, not everyone she encounters is grateful. She’s made enemies, and has told me how thankful she is that she never fails to wake up safe in her bed.

The little apartment seemed vastly empty without her, and my mind when to those who would do her harm. I called a few friends, and came up with nothing. The park was a favorite place of hers, and I knew she was no stranger to the streets.

So I walked those dark, lonely paths through Leeson Park until I was exhausted. I stumbled home well past midnight and collapsed on the couch that was normally pulled out into a bed for her. It smelled of her, and that was some small comfort.

* * *

I stared at her, this pale thin girl drenched and turning blue in the rain. How could she see herself as tarnished, I wondered. If only she could see herself through my eyes. Perhaps it’s only hormones, infatuation, all of that speaking, but to me, she is perfect. I know, sappy, romantic nonsense.

Okay, she’s not perfect. She’s boney and boyish. She keeps her hair too short for my taste. She’s secretive, passive and moody. Living with her can be like living with that emo teenager, but without all the drama. Just the constant silent treatment with the occasional hostile outburst. Those are usually mild.

The rest of the time, though, she’s a delight. Really, she is. She’s just a good kid. Well, I say kid, but she’s older than she looks, though she doesn’t always act it. There is something broken in her... and I can’t quite place it. I often wonder how much of a childhood she had.

“Whenever it would rain, she’d run out and stand with her face upturned, her arms outstretched,” Ellette continued. Who she referred to, I had no clue.

“She’d come back in beaming. Mother nature’s baptism, she’d say. You can be reborn in the rain...” her voice cracked, and she looked up to me then. I knew those were tears now. “Rand,” she whispered, and I knew it was my chance to step in, to put an end to this, “I can’t feel it. No matter how many times I do this... It never washes away...”

I had no answer. Nothing but my companionship to offer. I knelt, gathering her to me. She let go, leaning into me, ever silent, ever stoic. Eventually, I coaxed her to her feet, and she allowed me to guide her home.

* * *

When I awoke that next morning, aching and stiff from sleeping on that old couch, there was still no sign of her. I have to admit, I’d half hoped she’d show up during the night. I knew I’d have to drag myself into work, but it would be a less than productive day. As I went through the motions of grooming and dressing, it finally occurred to me to call her work. She wasn’t the type to shirk her work. If she was okay, she’d be there. No doubt. She just needed some time from me... for some reason.

I picked up the phone, flipping through my small list of numbers before punching hers in. It rang twice before a surly girl I knew from the shop answered. “Grub a dub deli, how can I help you?” she muttered into the phone.

“Hi, Stella. I need to know if Ellette has been in today, or yesterday.”

She snorted into the phone. “No, that bum took the whole week off. I’m on my own.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she asked for the time a while back. She didn’t tell you?”

“No... no.” stuttered in reaction. “Thanks Stella. Hey, do me a favor. Call me if she shows up?”

She laughed, she knew we were roomies, and was dying to goad me on this. “I’ll call.”

“Thanks,” I added quickly and hung up. I didn’t care to explain that she’d disappeared on me. Most our associates assumed we were a couple. The fact that she took off without me knowing would be a juicy piece of gossip. Not that I really cared, but people do love to talk.

* * *

Up the stairs we climbed, and she stumbled more and more with each step. It was a relief when she finally gave in and let me carry her those last few steps and down the hall to our shabby little apartment. In her condition, I knew an explanation for her irrational behavior wouldn’t be likely. I was just happy to know she was okay, for the most part, and was home. The rest could wait.

And wait, I did.

The first day she was back, there was little in the way of conversation. She was far too sick, too somber for that. I went into work, hoping that I’d return home to find her where I’d left her.

It was impossible to think, to focus. I could only wonder what had put her into such a state. Her disappearance was planned, that much was obvious by the fact that she’d requested time off work. Why hadn’t she said anything?

It was only by chance that I had run into Jessie as she bolted for the coffee shop to escape the rain. She hadn’t even looked up at me, her mess of auburn curls obscuring her face.

“Your girl is out there in the park. It’s as if she’s summoning the rain...” she’d said, and then she was gone, through the doors and into the warmth and shelter of the shop. Jessie is as wise and crazy as they come. I took heed of her comment and headed out into the ever increasing torrent.

That’s when I found her, her face streaming with rain and tears, her clothes soaked through. She was just sitting there, staring off... And then she started talking to me about her little sister, who got sick. That was all I could gather from her ramblings.

I suppose her sister died. I’m no stranger to having a loved one die. I can understand how this can break a person. So now, I’m waiting her out. She’ll tell me if and when she’s ready...

* * *

I came home to a darkened house. I was tense with anticipation, hoping that the silence, the dark only meant she was sleeping. That she hadn’t slipped off again without a word or explanation. I flipped on the light in our narrow kitchen and was relieved to make out the outline of her form under the blankets on the pullout couch.

After winding down from an agonizingly long day at work, I made my way to her. I sat down on the edge, and pushed a few stray jet black hairs from her face. She was flushed, her skin hot to the touch. I sighed. It was like taking care of a child with her sometimes.

After digging through the cabinets for some advil and filling a glass of water, I returned to the bedside.

“Ellette,” I prompted, shaking her shoulder. “You need to take something for that fever.”

I was no stranger to fevers. My boy used to get them all the time. Many a long night was spent trading off with Roxie to check on him and keep track of the tylenol and advil rotations.

She moaned and eventually roused herself. It was a long, groggy process getting her to take the pills. Afterwards, she just sat, her knees pulled up to her chest, resting her chin on them. She blinked sluggishly at me, and much to my surprise, began to speak.

“When Dani and I moved to the city, it was like life had begun for us for the first time. Everything else, was like a past life, a bad dream.

“Dani... was... my little sister. In every way except for blood. We’d gotten through a great deal together.

“We got an apartment, jobs, and were even active in the community. Dani was part of some social club. I can’t even remember the name of it now, but it meant so much to her. At the end of the club year, in the spring, there was to be a big gala. She saved up every penny so she could buy this dress she’d put on layaway. It was pink and strapless... her perfect prom dress. It was her way of making up for not going to prom.

“After agonizing, scrimping and saving, we’d both managed to save up enough for this dress. It was hanging in her closet, ready and waiting for her big day.

“Then, she got sick.

“It happened so quick. One day she was fine, the next she was in the hospital. Within two weeks, she was gone. It was just enough time to watch her waste away, but not enough to come to grips with what was happening.”

“So... after she passed... I went to the gala as she’d asked, wearing that bright pink dress that I had to stuff quite generously to even come close to filling it out. Somehow, I got through it.

“Afterwards, I waded into the river... the rain pouring down on me,” she paused, “I put my arms out like she had...

“That feeling she’d described, never came. I was just as empty, only now I was miserably wet and cold. I went home, put all her things in storage... and my life slowly fell apart.”

Her long, slender, still burning hot fingers found mine. She squeezed my hand softly. “Then, you found me on that hot summer day two years later.” She studied my scarred, damaged hands and turned them over in her own.

There was a long stretch of silence before I dared to fill the void. “I was worried,” was all I could manage.

She only nodded, this still slightly feral, stray girl I had taken in. “I’m sorry. I...” she trailed off, searching for words. None came for a long moment, and she met my eyes hesitantly before they slid away once more. “I know you have your own...” she paused again, “grief...”

I smiled. So, that was, at least in part, what this was about. “I’ve had more time than you have, sunk far deeper than you did, and climbed back out.” I sighed, realizing it as I said it, “I’ve put that as far behind me as I can. You won’t trouble me, don’t worry about that.”

She nodded. “I’ll be fine for now. Maybe next year...”

“Next year you’ll tell me before you go?”

“Yes.”

"That's all I ask," and I left it at that.

And so we went back about our normal lives... well, as normal as our lives are.

I will never forget, though, the sight of her streaming with rain and tears, hoping to wash away some secret sin.