Camera

39 - Dream

 “You have to be someone.”

 She just shrugged again.

 “How did you get into the room?”

 She looked straight into my eyes.

 “I was always here. You just never saw me.”

 I nodded because it made perfect sense.

 She looked at my body suddenly, under the hospital sheet, the cast around my leg, the IV, the bandages.

 “You were in a plane crash.”

 I nodded.

 “Yeah, apparently I was.”

 She tilted her head to the side slightly, her eyes growing just a fraction wider.

 “Tell me about it.”

 “I can’t,” I told her.

 “Of course you can. You’re a photographer. You make memories. Surely you can hold on to your own.”

 “I don’t make memories, I try to keep them. Obviously I haven’t done a very good job.”

 She simply smiled, close-lipped. I found myself wanting to touch her but then a thought occurred to me.

 “You know that I’m a photographer?”

 Another twitch of her full lips.

 “Of course I do.”

 I narrowed my eyes. “What else do you know?”

 She ticked it off on her thin fingers.

 “Your name is Luke Waters. You are from Springfield, Massachusetts. You love photography and a younger sister who is very dear to you. Your best friend is Leo Mandrakis. You make your bed in the mornings as soon as you wake up. Your favourite band is Led Zeppelin but for psychedelic stuff you listen to Yes and Pink Floyd. Your family voted for Romney but you are, in general, skeptical about politics.”

 Then she looked up at me as I tried not to stare at her too much.

 “I could go on, but trust me when I say that I know only as much as you do.”

 The cryptic statement puzzled me.

 “What do you mean?”

 She shrugged. “The more you know, the more I do. I’m not here to tell you things you don’t know. Like my name.”

 I blinked.

 “But....but I don’t know you.”

 This time when she smiled her eyes looked sad.

 “You do, Luke. You do, better than you think.”

 I stared at the girl, the beautiful girl, and even though I didn’t know her, I wanted to know her.

 Suddenly, our gazes shifted to the window on the opposite side of the room. From amongst the twinkling city lights of New Jersey, a persistent light was flashing in the distance, like a helicopter, or a plane.

 “What’s that?” I mumbled.

 The girl moved.

 “I should go.”

 She stood up. I looked at her quickly.

 “What? Now?”

 She smiled again. “I’ll come back, Luke. But for now I have to leave you.”