Evelyn, Part 2

Chapter 3: Evelyn, Part 2

While driving home that evening after my performance, my thoughts kept drifting away. The notes of my musical piece played over and over in my mind as I continued down the road in my black Jeep. My friend Alice swung her arms all over the place as she rambled at my side, but I barely noticed, unlike normal drives with her. While the music played in my head, I kept seeing the man and his horse, or was it the horse and his man? From the way they were presented, I couldn't really tell who the master was. Their eyes though, so intense was their gaze, and the man's so beautiful . . . I didn't think my eyes were very pretty but definitely unique. They were light brown when I saw myself in the mirror that morning, but other times they would turn a deep gray like an oncoming storm. I never knew what to say when people asked about them. Usually they took a shrug for an answer, but some insisted on being told the obvious. My eyes changed regularly, usually every couple of months. “With the seasons,” my father used to say, among other things. Thinking about him still made my heart ache inside my chest, but before the pain could spread I forced myself to retract the thought. Either way, my eyes were fitting to the rest of me. I never envied others for their eyes until now . . .

“Argh, Evey!”

I jumped slightly in my seat. “Ah! What? Don't do that when I'm driving!” It was amazing how Alice's usual sing-song voice could screech so horribly.

“Are you even listening to me?” Alice said, her hazel eyes narrowing.

Being snapped back so fast jarred my senses. “Yeah, of course I am. You were talking about what you thought of the performance?” I smiled, glancing at her.

Alice didn't seem convinced, but her response was a simple “Hmm,” as she turned her head back, squinting at me. Her nicely pointed nose seemed to actually stick up in the air right then. She resumed her gushing.

Alice LaBeau had near black, natural brown hair that made lovely waves all over her head and fell slightly below her shoulders. She wore it in a stylish bun with short bangs in the front and long side-bangs framing her face, which was her usual hairstyle besides usually leaving it down. Her ivory skin was close to perfect in appearance which made her look like a porcelain doll when her hair was wrapped around her face. When she wore makeup, she had mastered it so that it didn't look like she was wearing it at all.

Personally, I never wore makeup, though Alice had insisted on giving me makeovers a few times over the years as children. Otherwise, it made me uncomfortable in my own skin, so to speak. Without it, I felt better and healthier. Even when Alice chose to, even as she wore it with such mastery, she really didn't need the makeup, she was beautiful anyway. At least my older brother especially thought so. I used to tell her she'd make a great model with her flawless skin if she weren't so tiny. She was noticeably shorter than me.

I’ve known Alice since we were two years old. She lived near my family's farm in her own little house with her grandparents outside the city, and they would set us up on play-dates together. She'd been my best friend through everything. Even with other friends in life, she was always there, the only one I could call a sister. Any time either of us had left home, it was hard without the other. She'd been there to help me when a crisis came, and for that, I owed her so much for sticking through it with me and never leaving. Back and forth, she lived with me and on her own as an adult, until she ended up working with me on occasion. We were always close, and I was sure we always would be.

Alice's laugh caught my attention again as we drove along. “And that face you made half way through, it was so serious. Some of it you looked shocked. It stayed that way until the end. I'm sure no one but me noticed, at least no one in the audience. I can't say for sure about everyone on stage.” She sipped from the pop she'd picked up before we left.

“So there wasn't anything else you noticed? You were fine the whole time?" I said, thinking about the time ripple. "And you thought I kept playing, right? Breathing and all?”

Alice raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side. “What are you talking about? Of course I was fine, just watching as usual. You looked fine besides what I said already, and yes you played beautifully. I wouldn't worry about it,” she said, waving her hand at me as if trying to shoo away my worry.

I quietly chuckled, then swallowed in relief. It must be only me then, maybe I'm too stressed and tired. Maybe I had started to dream while awake. I couldn't be sure, but that had to be it. "Never mind. You're right, I shouldn't worry about it.” I nodded.

We turned off the dirt road, bordered with thick trees that were blocking our view of the clear and sparkling sky, and pulled up past the gravel and onto the small, newly paved parking spot right in front of the house. Switching off the car, I reached back to get some bags of books we had shopped for this afternoon.

“Evey . . . what exactly happened?” asked Alice.

I glanced her way and saw her worried expression, but hurriedly turned back, acting busy to hide my own concern. “I almost messed up on a few notes, that's all. I need more practice and sleep at the same time.” I paused to swallow down a swig from the water bottle I'd grabbed from one of the cup holders. “Don't worry, I'm fine,” I said with a smile before exiting and shutting the door. She did the same.

The house lights were bright and beaming out from the windows. As we walked through the door, I immediately set my bags down, placed my jacket on the hook and shut the door behind Alice. I was eager to be done with the day. “William?” I called, casually picking up my bags again.

“Hey, I'm in here.” I heard his voice coming from what I've called just “the window room” since childhood.

Alice and I walked past the living room, through our little home library and into the sun room, which was devoid of its namesake and only lit by candlelight. My brother's nose was practically touching a paint-splotched canvas as he squinted like he lost something within it. He preferred candlelight when trying to paint a starry sky at night, which made it all the more difficult when he was stuck. Shaking my head, I leaned against the door frame, and the floorboard creaked beneath my foot. William looked up from his easel. “Hey! How'd it go?”

I shrugged.

“I bet you were wonderful! Wasn't she, Alice?” He said it with pride booming in his voice.

“Yep, it was a great night. You should have been there, Will,” she said, frowning at him as she stepped around me and into the room.

“Yeah I know, but I couldn't leave the farm with one of the horses so close to foaling. Evelyn, you know that.”

It was true, the brown coated American Quarter Horse was a mare we called Bethany, and she neared the finish line. I spaced out, wondering if she'd have a colt or a filly. “Yes, of course,” I replied, and smiled seeing my brother with paint all over him. Venturing around crumpled paper and finished pastel artwork scattered all over the ground, I carefully stepped where I could, and tried to dodge the hanging paintings in the air which made it feel more like a maze with traps every which way. Finally close enough to see, I angled myself right behind William to see the painting head-on. Mixtures of bright and dark colors all formed a perfect night sky, with some lining of trees that looked like some of ours outside.

“Oh, it's beautiful William. It's of right over there, isn't it?” I said, pointing through the window.

He nodded.

Taking off his paint shirt and draping it over a chair he gathered me into a big hug, and I hugged back, laughing. “You're smashing me!” I gasped, unable to laugh anymore.

He laughed. “Sorry.” He pulled back but still looked down at me, and I could see a quick thought pass across his face. “Hey, they would have been so happy that you're performing regularly now. I'm glad it went great.”

A tinge of sadness pierced my heart every time he brought up our parents, but I feigned a smile. “Thank you,” I said.

Alice had been looking at the painting when I looked back over. “You like it?” William said, taking a step near her.

“Definitely,” she answered, her voice soft. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. I heard whispers of “I missed you” as I tiptoed back through the maze and out of the room. I had new books calling me to organize them. I knew exactly which ones were going to sit next to my bed for weeks while they would be slowly devoured.

Up the stairs I went, bag in hand, and when I reached my bedroom, I carefully placed the books on my bed as I changed into something comfortable to sleep in. For me, that was either a long winter-thick nightgown or some sweatpants with a T-shirt. As for tonight, it was the latter. Always cold, all I wanted was to read the rest of the night away from under my many blankets. Hopefully it would erase the events of the day from my memory, but I strongly doubted it.

A glint from the window distracted me from my plans, and I glanced outside to see snow falling; the last flurry of winter since spring would be right around the corner. I thought of all the joys of winter, Christmas and other holidays celebrated all over the world. I always enjoyed it, though I admittedly longed for my meadow, lush with flowers and grass again with the sun beaming down so I could childishly roll in it. Sometimes I would roll in it during winter too when the snow was thick and just right. I remembered a few eventful winters playing in the snow with William, and our parents sledding with us. I flinched at the thought, and turned back to my bed, gripping the top sheet. Different thoughts. Alice would always do snow angels with me if she were outside. Pretty traditional things to do as a child. William used to make fun of me when snowflakes would catch and build up on my long eyelashes. I chuckled to myself at the memory. They didn't do that nowadays, though I didn't play or go for a walk during a snowfall anymore. Before releasing my grip, I pulled the sheet open and sat next to the books.

As I held one under my nose, taking in the fresh smell of a new book and breathing out with delight, a bevy of white spots suddenly impaired my view of the room. Alarm shot through me. I stood on instinct and slightly crouched over, frantically blinking in hopes of blotting out whatever caused the obstruction. Then the white spots grew into a flashing blanket of light, and I couldn't see anything else. I didn't move. A moment passed as I caught my breath before another flash, and then another. The glaring light lashed at my eyes, and squeezing my eyelids shut did nothing to aid me. I reeled in pain and grabbed my head to kneel on the floor next to my bed. My head was killing me! Such pain crippled my ability to move. Tears poured down my cheeks, though they brought no relief as crying often did for my headaches. I lost all care of how loud I cried, I just wanted the pain to stop.

The flashes started to change. Instead of blinding light every time, every other flash held an image of something. At first I couldn't make anything out of them, but since they were so consistent, I had a few more chances. A gray horse, trees, and stone fences. Next were several horses grouped together, some with items hanging off of them and bouncing as they fiercely galloped, but none were like the one I saw at the performance. At the performance, it had been so clear, and even sort of pleasant. This was different, faded and cold, yet somehow familiar like an unwanted memory. My thoughts were scattered this way and that, and the images continued beating me down. Hills, green—lots of green—and the ocean at times. Then fog, and sometimes I thought I saw people, but they flashed away from sight too fast and less often so that I couldn't be sure. Sweating from the strain and effort of it all, it must have been hours, I still managed to pull myself up from the floor and onto the bed. I pushed what I could out of the way, and put a pillow tightly under and over my head as the tears still streamed down my face. Rigid, I laid there until the pain subsided, and the flashing images ceased altogether, leaving me to endure what was left of the light. My whole body was cringing, my head was still pounding, and my eyes ached and burned. Never in my life had I experienced a migraine, I never understood, and I wish it had stayed that way. What I would have given for a simple headache!

A knock on my bedroom door went straight to my head, and I moaned loudly. The door opened, and William came through. "Evey . . . sorry, are you all ri—Oh! What's wrong?" He rushed to me and carefully lifted the pillow from my face.

I sniffled from under my pillow, there was no stopping the tears. "Migraine," I managed to mouth. Suddenly my stomach lurched, and I hung off the bed just in time, grateful for my little trashcan.

"A migraine? You've never gotten one of those before. Should I take you to a doctor? This looks really bad."

When I stopped heaving, I sat back, thrashing my arm at him. I didn't want to go to a doctor, at least not yet. I'd heard of worse migraines than this. I was seized with dread when I thought about what a worse case would feel like, and painfully swallowed down a dry burning throat. But if this went on until tomorrow I may have to, but for tonight I mentally vowed to keep fighting.

"You're so stubborn! I'll be right back, crazy," William said, grumbling as he thankfully shut the light off before he left. He returned shortly after with an ice pack, some pills, and water. "You're gonna have to sit up for this part," he said, moving my pillow off of me this time.

I sat up slowly, my hair feeling hot and damp against my neck and back as I rose. "Thank you, William," I whispered before popping the pills back and drinking a long gulp of the water.

"You're welcome. Lay back down now and try to sleep. If you're still like this in the morning or if I hear you crying again like that I'm taking you to the hospital." His voice shook slightly.

I nodded and took the ice pack. My eyes rolled from the pain, and I laid back as he covered me up. I vaguely noticed him smiling at me and saying good night as he left because once I put the ice pack on my head, everything became a heavy blur.