Death Becomes Us

Chapter Eleven (Pt. 1)

No distinct direction seems to be chosen nor has there been a set destination decided upon. We wander aimlessly beside the Reflection Pool, at a slow pace, apart, and in silence.

Yet again I peer discreetly towards Elizabeth, experiencing the brief wash of our past encounters before the memories slip away once more. So far nothing new reveals itself and I am left wondering if remembering the art gallery was a chance of fate.

Elizabeth glances at me and I check the intensity of my stare, quickly looking away. Just like that, the ghostly tendrils of my memories withdraw and the infuriating fog returns. Of course it does, and the worst part is that I have access to the knowledge of my past at my disposal if only I could just say something. What is the use of this walk if we don't speak?

"Strange weather we're having," Elizabeth observes.

I glance up to the black night where only a handful of stars are scattered and the moon hangs like a radiant guardian. Angry storm clouds skirt around the edges of the horizon, leaving behind wispy trails that gradually evaporate. It's almost as if the weather is trying to be a clear evening, warm, and with the promise of a better morning, but it can't yet let go of the rain from today.

"Some might call it a bit temperamental," I say.

"Interesting choice of words, Mr. Watson," She grins. "And why would you call it that?"

"Because it can't seem to make up its mind. Does it want to storm or does it want to be clear?"

She laughs, looking down in time to avoid a collision with a couple of night bikers. I turn to watch their shimmering protective gear zoom away towards Lincoln and then swerve onto the opposite walk of the Reflection Pool.

"Well, I say that it is beautiful," Elizabeth says. "The stars, the clouds, the vastness of it all, it really makes you believe there is something else out there."

I gaze at the stranger walking beside me, a completely different girl to who I had met earlier today. For a moment I had seen this girl, just before she had left me. Now it seems that this version is more willing to return, but on her own terms. Maybe that's all she needed to let her walls down; maybe she just needs more control over the situation.

"Do you think there is something else out there?" I ask.

Elizabeth shrugs, crossing her arms and looking up at the sky once more, her eyebrows drawing together in thought. Gently I nudge her to the side in an attempt to avoid a group of ducks settling down on the sidewalk. They are startled when I come near, giving a disturbed chorus of quacks and quickly waddling into the pool. Elizabeth turns as she walks to watch them go and raises her camera, deftly taking their picture.

"I think there are things out there that we can't explain," she says, surveying the photograph of the ducks. "I think it would be arrogant to believe that, in the entire universe, we are the only living planet. One of these days someone is going to say that aliens exist and they're going to be right."

"I'm sure the world finds that a terrifying prospect," I remark idly. "Imagine, discovering creatures from galaxies well beyond this solar system."

"Perhaps we'll be the ones discovered," she says. "What about you, James? What do you believe?"

"Nothing except in what I see," I say shortly. "I don't see the unknown, because everything has already been laid out in front of my eyes. There's nothing left to hide, nothing left to have blind faith in."