Stranger Things – Page 8 – A Piece, of the Sky

Alli was sitting at the house in the field, burnt out, twisted out, more than thirty years ago. The moon floated overhead; the flowers tossed in the evening’s gusts. A little lantern sat on the porch between them. Page, the Thunder Avatar, sat in the adjacent rocking chair.

She was dressed like a young professional. Her tall, lanky frame was graced by a slate pants suit and an obsidian blouse. Her raven hair flowed like silk and caught the deep blue of the sky, the spinning, sparkling stars – like a kindly, modern Morgan le Fay. Clear water had nothing on her almost translucent blue eyes, bright and burning in the dark.

“Aro didn’t tell me you would be this humble, this small,” Page began.

“Well, I am very short,” Alli admitted, embarrassed.

“So, you went to Dartmouth,” Page said, leaning forward, peering at her in the darkness.

“Well, you did go to Yale,” Alli answered, heat rising in her cheeks, a substitute for a blush.

“Yes, I went to college around the same time as you,” Page said in a soft voice, turning her drink on the armrest of the chair.

“Your mother served as the Lightning Avatar, the diplomatic head of the Atevars. What was that like?” Alli wondered, in awe.

Alli heard her smile, “It wasn’t that immense, really. I thought about going to the State Department, in this world, but I just became a lawyer.”

“This is the first time anyone in my family has even heard of Atev, much less became any of the Three Avatars,” Alli confessed, spreading her hands wide – a placating gesture.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Page murmured, reaching across the divide – the gap between their wooden chairs – her hair falling into her face, her right hand sporting a gold Yale ring, “You’re not going to be out of your depth. And I am sure your parents knew about how permeable this world is with Atev.”

Alli sighed, with Page’s hand resting on hers, breathing in the Thunder Avatar’s perfume – a heady feeling. The woman was a snowy pale, accentuated by her bright, red lipstick. Alli, by contrast, was folded into a warm, comfortable, pearl fisherman’s sweater.

She glanced up and knew Page was looking into her eyes, in the night. She squeezed Alli’s hand, “I know it sounds trite, but whatever comes our way, we’ll face it together.”

Wind rustled through the grasses and crickets chirped in the underbrush. The odd firefly winked in and out, working its way back to the main road. The two held hands, staring out into the void.

Song

F O R E C A S T – Conscious Thoughts

Alli sat on the porch of the broken house again, in a wooden rocking chair, brought out from inside – made of wood almost as gray as that of the porch. It was now early afternoon. The brilliant, electric-blue sky had been replaced by a cloudy hue, the color a soft, eggshell white.

The drizzle drummed on the black, old shingles of the roof, twisted and turned out of their places. Thunder grumbled beyond her view. The trees looked black on the horizon. Lightning flashed – Alli blinked her eyes and it was gone. The rain wind wafted the fresh smell of wet earth across the land.

Æon stood in the middle of the field of yellow flowers, now looking off-white under the dishwater-colored sky. She wore clothes like what Alli wore when she was in high school, walking through this very same field, almost twenty years ago – a jean jacket over a green sweat shirt, faded jeans, trainers.

She stood in the middle of the field, the Sky Avatar, and let the lightning illuminate her face. Æon crossed through the field toward Alli, an angel in disguise, pushing her way through the tall grass and the raindrops, sweet and cool. She smiled and waved. No doubt, Aro had encouraged her to come here.

Alli watched her make her way up the ancient, rotting porch. Æon sat in the matching, rickety rocking chair Alli had placed out for her. They listened to the gentle whistle of the breeze, watched the thunderheads move in the distance, saw the setting sun break through the rainy gloom.

Æon rocked the chair, in a homey sort of way. Alli was still, “So, you’ve come to tell me to open my third eye, or something like that, right?”

Æon smiled again, and stopped rocking, “It’s finally time for you to become what you were always meant to be.”