Thursday, February 26, 2009

She Walks In Beauty

Ethan had taken Brit to dinner and conversed while she ate. He marveled over the dress she had selected for the evening. Though far more revealing than he would have selected, Ethan had to admit that the dress was not without charm. Upon entering the room, he was reminded of Byron’s poem. During dinner, Ethan whispered the poem to her and feigned eating. He had taken her to the mainland to escape the turmoil caused by the priests that had returned to the city. His voice recited, “She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and light meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

“That’s pretty,” Brit lisped. “Ethan, maybe we could try a restaurant that has things served in paper. Sometimes, it is fast to get things in paper, and then we can go dance sooner.” Noticing his frown, she ventured further, “I mean….I am the only one who eats…and we both dance.” They sat silently for a moment. Seeing his fingers tap on his wine glass that had not lost even a drop of wine, she ate a glazed carrot.

“Do you not enjoy our dinner conversations, Brit?” he asked raising one eyebrow. She puffed her cheeks and he could see her thoughts. Patting her hand, he said, “It is kind of you to think of me, but I rather enjoy our evening chats.” She smiled seeing that he understood. Picking up her hand, he kissed it before giving it a soft pat and motioning for her to take another bite. The wine touched his lips, but he did not drink. Instead, he continued, “Thus mellow’d to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies.” Brit listened to the words that he softly recited, and told him that she liked his poems and the pictures they painted.

Ethan stopped after the first stanza of Byron’s poem and watched her as she finished dinner. Though he made all indications that he was listening intently to what she said, Ethan had another agenda this night. Of late, he had taken to using their mental connection, which had grown stronger through the regular feedings, to experience things he had long forgotten. Earlier, though she had dressed, he could feel her body’s hunger. The gnawing feeling in her abdomen that grew more prominent. It was unlike his desire for blood, but had similar components. Tonight, he decided, he would feel her drift to sleep. The only trouble was that his wife had far more energy than most, and so he decided that dancing would help her fall asleep earlier, so he could observe her mental and physical changes.

After dinner, he led her to a quiet place pulling her to him. Wrapping his arms around her, he danced closely to music that played somewhere near. His mind linked with hers and watched. Now that she had eaten, she was enjoying the physical motion of dancing. Did he enjoy the physical movement as she does when he was human? He was unsure and truthfully did not recall. Pulling her close again, he turned her and let her slide away from him. When her fingertips were all that was touching him, he kissed her hand and pulled her against him again. Keeping her near him, he whispered to her, “One shade more, one ray less, Had half inpair’d the nameless grace which waves in every raven tress or softly lightens o’er her face. Where thoughts serenely sweet express how pure, how dear their dwelling place.”

Brit processed the words blinking rhythmically. He could see that she knew the poem was about a woman. Brit’s mind continued to process. He saw that she envisioned a lady in a sparkly black dress with black hair. She missed some of the contrasts so beloved by the Romantic era authors and their fascination with twilight to night in the murky darkness of mysticism. She only saw someone in love who thought his lover was perfect. Ethan smiled stroking Brit’s hair and feeling such sentiments could exist. He enjoyed her humanity and watched her thoughts picture the lady walking outside across where they were dancing with her black hair swaying in time to the music. Ethan desired to feel more of her human experiences.

Brushing his lips over her cheek and eyelid, he whispered, “And on that cheek, and o’er that brow so soft, so calm, yet eloquent, the smiles that win, the tints that glow, but tell of days in goodness spent.” In keeping with his plans, Ethan kept up a decent pace to the dancing and discussed the way the lady might have walked. Brit was becoming better at making connections though she struggled with inference. Finally, he received for what he had been waiting. Brit yawned. “Aw, I’ve worn you out,” he said. Though she started to protest, he shook his head and said, “It is time we retire, I think…yes, I know it is still early, but yawning? No, you need rest.”

It did not take long for her to ready for bed. Ethan waited when she joined him. She could feel him within her mind. “I feel you near,” she said and he chuckled. Without saying a word, she knew that he wanted to feel her thoughts. Relaxing against him, she stretched and felt her eyes wanting to close. It was this that he wished to watch: Brit falling asleep.

As she started to drift, he saw images. Places they had been, things they had done together. She also had images of others for whom she cared. Nothing in her thoughts was harmful or hurtful. No negative thoughts flicked through her mind. He could feel her starting to fall asleep. It was a different feeling to him. Different from his going dormant when he rested. Ethan frowned realizing he did not recall that particular feeling when he was human. Her heart rate was slowing and her muscles relaxed. Ethan could feel it all.

Suddenly, Brit had a few small convulsions. Fleeting and barely perceptible. Her heart beat and breathing rate continued to decrease. Ethan wondered if they were letting her brain know by electrical pulses. He could feel Brit fall deeper into sleep sinking deeper in her mind and, like the images before, loving, innocent images formed basic dreams that she started to become more complex. Ethan pulled her to him, and she did not stir. He watched one image after another.

Brit’s dream was her dancing in the green dress she wore that night. It glowed slightly in the night and she watched him as she danced. Her mind focused on him. The way he felt when he touched her and when she touched him. Ethan smiled slightly feeling a bit odd at how absorbed she was. All thought surrounded him and the love she felt. He marveled how she saw him. Even though he had shared so much with her of his past, she obviously did not comprehend her husband as anything other than perfect.

Shaking his head slightly in bewilderment, Ethan watched one dream after another. Never anything unkind or untowardly. Brit obviously believed goodness in all beings. Ethan remembered the first time Brit invited him into her mind. She never closed her mind to him since that night. He continued to marvel at her guiless nature. But also knew that she had nothing to hide nor did she realize that hiding from people was something others did. Ethan’s arms tightened around Brit protectively. His lips brushed over her hair and he whispered, “A mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent!” As he too started to feel himself pulled into his daytime rest, Ethan wondered how Byron knew of his wife.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Old Fashion Romance

At the strike of midnight, Brit exclaimed, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Ethan!” The exclamation was accompanied with a pounce followed by a passel of kisses. The exuberance caused Ethan to need to brace to keep them both from tumbling and he grinned at Brit’s playfulness and excitement over a “holiday” designed around romance. “Valentine’s Day is a day for beloveds AND lovers, Ethan. And I made you a pretty card, which you could use as a bookmark if you wished all year long.” She presented the red card etched in lace with little pink and red ribbons. Rather than a verse, Brit had covered the card in lip prints.

Ethan traced each lip print and said, “Thank you, baby. I will use it to mark my ledger and so I will use it every day.” He bent to give her a kiss and looked at the card in more detail before laying it carefully on the ledger. “Would you wish to know the history of Valentine’s Day, Brit? It is a bit like a story.” Seeing her nod, he motioned her to him after sitting and pulled her on to his lap. “Many would say that it was a holiday created by greeting card companies, but that is incorrect. While those companies made it popular and commercialized it to what it is today, there are a few theories on its true beginnings.”

“Oh, please tell me! It is like a story when you tell me things!” She smiled happily as she settled against him.

Nodding, Ethan adjusted her to one side so he could open a drawer and produced a heart-shaped box of fresh strawberries drenched with layers of dark chocolate. Picking one up, he pressed it to her lips watching the juice and dark chocolate stain her lips. “There were several saints named Valentine recognized by the church. All of whom were martyred.” Brushing away her hand, he followed a drip of juice while watching her with his finger and pressed it to her lips where she licked it off. His words paused. Blinking a few times, Ethan continued. “One legend contends that Valentine was a priest during the reign of Emperor Claudius II in third century Rome. The emperor decided single men made better soldiers so he outlawed marriages of young men. The priest is said to have married young lovers in secret. When he was discovered, he was put to death.”

Licking the melted chocolate from her lips, she said, “But God approves of marriage.” She paused to take another bite of the huge strawberry and traced the dripping juice along his finger to lick it from his thumb holding the underside causing Ethan to raise an eyebrow and shake his head slightly to clear his thoughts to continue.

“Other stories suggest…” Ethan watched Brit’s lips nibble the strawberry and chocolate from his fingers in silence. When she pulled back to look at him, he kissed her forehead and said, “Other stories …yes. Other stories suggest that Valentine may have been killed for attempting to help Christians escape Roman prisons where they were sometimes beaten or tortured.”

Brit nibbled her lips to rid them of melted chocolate. “That’s not very romantic.” Ethan grinned and gave her another bite of the strawberry holding the chocolate so that it would not crack and fall away when she bit into it.

“What was romantic is one legend that says that he fell in love with the jailer’s daughter who would visit him during his confinement. Before his death, he allegedly wrote her a letter which he signed ‘From your Valentine,’ which is an expression still used today.” Brit caught a piece of broken chocolate on her lower lip and sucked it into her mouth letting it melt on her tongue. “Now the legends of Valentine are murky, but the stories are romantic. Tis no wonder that he is such a popular saint since medieval times.”


Brit nodded enjoying the story. Pressing her to him, Ethan kissed her softly tasting the chocolate and strawberry in the kiss. Settling back, he watched her silently for a moment and picked up another strawberry covered in chocolate to trace on her lips before letting her bite into it. Again, he caught the juice on his finger and held it to her mouth. Brit leaned and sucked the drip before taking a bite of the strawberry. Ethan blinked slightly again watching her nibble the strawberry and chocolate that he held for her.

Shifting his weight, Ethan’s other hand caressed her back. “Of course, there are some who believe that Valentine’s Day is celebrated in the middle of February to commemorate the anniversary of Valentine’s death, but others claim the church timed Valentine’s feast day in effort to christianize a pagan holiday known as the Lupercalia festival.” Brit listened as she let the chocolate melt on her lips before taking another bite of the strawberry.

Ethan paused again. “In ancient Rome, February was the official beginning of spring and was considered a time for cleansing. Houses were ritually cleansed by sweeping them well, and then sprinkling salt and spelt throughout them.” Brit ran her lower lip over his thumb and strawberry’s chocolate hull to catch the dripping juice. “See, the festival of Lupercalia, which began on the ides of February, which is the 15th, was a fertility festival dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, as well as Romulus and Remus who were the founders of Rome. First, an animal was sacrificed and then young girls were ritualistically slapped with strips of the animal’s skin and blood to guarantee their fertility.”

Brit’s eyes widened. “I think…giving a beloved chocolate and strawberries would make her want to be a lover and have babies more than hitting her with blood and animal skin. Don’t you?”

Ethan stifled a chuckle seeing her question was most serious to her. “Well, baby. The beauty of Valentine’s Day is that it can cater to all tastes. Hmm?” He pressed the rest of the huge strawberry into her mouth before another question could form, and then followed with Valentine’s kisses.