Chapter 20
I stepped through the portal home, and I breathed in the warm air of hell. I started walking to my room, ready to fall into a wonderfully blissful sleep, when I noticed that my brothers weren't surrounding me and telling me how much they didn't like Angelo or did like him.
They were nowhere to be seen.
I went to my room and they still weren't there.
Weird. I thought. But then I shrugged and undressed for bed.
When I came out of the bathroom my brothers still hadn't come.
I crawled in bed and pushed it out of my mind, the day had been wonderful despite the watching eyes of my brothers, I was able to relax in the arms of Angelo.
Maybe everything would be okay.
* * * *
I spent the morning with my sisters, telling them about my night before and practicing my skills at fire
Glacien again, stayed away.
Sometime after noon I stepped into the cemetery and was enveloped in a hug and a kiss from Angelo.
He pulled away and looked at me, curling my straitened black hair behind my ear, "You're so beautiful parjarita." He said. "Like a candle flame. Small and delicate, yet bright and pure as any star."
I buried my face in his neck as I blushed, and I felt guilt seep through me as I thought about how I was not as pure as he cared to think of me.
"I missed you this morning," he said, smoothing my hair. "You worried me a bit by wandering home alone."
I chuckled, "You worry too much."
Angelo pulled away and flicked my nose up. "I worry just enough, chica." Then he kissed my nose and put his arm around me as he steered me out of the cemetery.
"What's the adventure for today?" I asked.
Angelo laughed and rubbed my shoulder. "Aren't your brothers coming to meet me today?"
I shrugged. "I thought so, but I didn't see them this morning. We might see them later."
Angelo grinned. "Well, that just gives me more time alone with you. I brought my guitar and found a sunny spot on the beach, it's supposed to be nice and calm today, I figured a day of relaxation would be perfect."
I snuggled into his arm as we walked. "That sounds lovely."
We sat on the beach and I watched the waves. Pure, crystal blue waves crashed one over the top of the other onto the buttery, golden sand. The foam rising and frothing to look like a stampede of horses running together in the freedom of the wild stallions of the plains.
Then I heard the strum of a sound like butter and cinnamon. I turned around to see Angelo with a guitar in his lap, his fingers playing with the strings creating the beautiful sounds.
I closed my eyes as I listened to the music. Music was one of the only things that made me feel remotely human. My brothers and sisters didn't understand my affliction with music, but the indulged me because they loved me.
This music, it wasn't mariachi, it wasn't like an orchestra, it wasn't rock and roll or country like those songs in America.
This was soft and smooth, it moved you gently like the waves of this Brazilian shore. I started humming a tune that I knew went with it. "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" that song was usually played with a ukulele, but the guitar made the chords sound deeper and smoother.
As I hummed the guitar changed and Angelo started playing "Somewhere Over The Rainbow", then as I hummed he started humming the harmony and I opened my eyes to see him nodding at me to sing the words.
I grinned and sang. "Somewhere, over the rainbow....way up high,"
Angelo took up the next part. "And, the, dreams that you deam of, once in life-tihiiime, aaah ahhah."
I picked up the next line. "Where trouble melts like lemon drops, high above the chimney tops that where ...you'll fiiiiind me,"
We both sang the next part together, his lower silky voice with my higher, alto voice it smoothed over in to perfect harmony. "Oh, soooomewheeeere over the rainbow, blue birds fly,"
We continued to sing songs like that through the afternoon. I forgot about pretending to be hungry and he didn't notice, he never mentioned being hungry either, we were having too much happiness to burst the bubble of music and life.
He played a guitar tune that I could dance to. I sang him an ave Maria that I had learned from one of the greatest opra singers of the eighteenth century.
Angelo played me a spanish lullaby and I sang him a sweet melody that would put ravenous wolves to sleep like puppies after a large meal.
The sun set in an array of colors, orange and pink and a splash of red around the blood colored sun when it touched the water.
We built a fire pit and settled down. My brothers hadn't showed their faces once, I couldn't feel them watching, so I assumed they had changed their minds and were satisfied by watching us yesterday.
I relaxed and laid by the fire watching the flames dance, I listened as the fire played a song of its own with the soft tune Angelo was plucking out on his guitar. Despite what mortal scientists say, fire is as alive as any flower or human. It has its own language that I was born speaking.
"Angelo, what do you know about fire?" I asked, still watching and listening to the flames.
Angelo stopped playing. "It's hot, it's beautiful, it's dangerous if not controlled. Why?"
"Have you ever heard the legend of Ãguna?" I asked.
"No." Angelo said.
"My father told the story to me many times when I was little. Ãguna was the goddess of Fire. Raised by a phoenix and taught the ways of fire. The people of Bengal called her a witch, and lived in fear of her. They feared her power. So she ran off into the mountains, where her fires couldn't harm anyone.
"In the mountain she was very lonely. The went into herself and lit a bonfire on the top of the mountain on the night of the new moon. Talking to it through the night, teaching the flames to speak.
"But after seven months in that mountain, seven bonfires she lit, someone came to see what was creating the light at the top of the mountain. It was a boy, a goat herder, he came to the top of the mountain and asked why she was alone on the mountain with only a fire for company.
"'Fire is my only friend.' She said sadly. 'Only fire can tell me secrets and listen to my tales of loneliness.'
"The goat herder was interested in Ãguna and stayed to talk with her, but come morning the goat herder woke up and she had run into the safety of the trees, fearing what would happen if he found out that the fire was of her making.
"But month after month, the goat header came back, to see the beautiful Ãguna, and to keep her company. One moon Ãguna decided to tell the goat herder about her gift. She showed him how she could speak to the flames, make them grow and shrink, play with them like a child would play wth kittens.
"The goat herder was astonished, but not afraid. Come morning Ãguna was gone, but the goat herder stayed, calling her name and begging to see her and her beautiful fire. She listened to his pleas for a long time, but she did not answer. This time, not for fear of his rejection, but for fear of his life. Ãguna loved the goat herder, but she feared she would hurt this mortal. So she stayed away from him for the month, watching him as he waited on the top of that mountain for her.
"The one thing Ãguna didn't know was that mortals needed warmth to survive, Ãguna herself never got cold because of the flames that burned in her blood. But it was the middle of winter on that mountain, and every night was a terror of ice and snow. Ãguna watched as the goat herder desperately tried to build a fire, but he failed. He called out for her help but her fear kept her back.
"On the morning of the dark moon, she allowed herself to see him. Before night fall, she came out of her tree and went to the sleeping goat herder on the ground. He was blue everywhere, and he wouldn't wake up, his skin was like ice, and so she built a fire around her and the goat herder to make him warm, to melt the ice. But the fire didn't help, the goat herder stayed frozen in sleep and Ãguna cried, she cried firey tears that poured down the mountain like molten lava, destroying the town at its base and making a volcanoe with her grief at losing her love. She died in her own firey tears as her beloved goat herder melted and went to the otherwold peacefully. But like the Phoenix she was raised by, she rose from the ashes of the firey mountain and was a goddes, still grieving over her lost love, now she speaks to people through the fires they make, but no one can hear her. So Ãguna wanders the world alone, grieving, searching for her love reborn." When I had finished the story Angelo was silent, I watched the fire dance and sing and listened as Ãguna cried and thanked me for sharing the story.
"Eve," I looked up from the fire to see Angelo staring at me. Emotion pooling in his eyes.
"Angelo?" I asked, sitting up. "Is something wrong?"
"No." He got up and pulled me to my feet. "Everything is perfect, I can't even explain how wonderful these seven days have been."
Angelo let go of my hand and kneeled before me, "Eve, you have captured my heart, everything I am is yours, I will protect you, love you, and cherish you for all of my days, regardless of how you feel towards me. I know I cannot hope to earn your love the way I wish, but I will never stop trying."
I laughed and took his hand. "Rise, you fool," I held both of his hands in mine and looked up into his wild green eyes. "You don't need to earn what you already have. My heart, my love, is yours forever and always."
His eyes lit up with joy and he scooped me up in a passionate kiss.