Give me your hand. I'm right here with you. There is another world
waiting for us, Aida. I can feel it. The way I always knew there was a world
beyond every bend in the
AIDA
You will find me in that world?
RADAMES
If I have to search for a hundred lifetimes, I will find you
again, Aida.
--Aida (Scene 21), book by Linda Woolverton, Robert Falls &
David Henry Hwang
PARALLELS
By Kaylle <kaylle@bigfoot.com>
She could feel his eyes on her.
She pretended not to notice, circling the exhibits and studying
each one closely. She couldn’t deny he
looked familiar to her, like the face of a friend grown just slightly out of
recognition. Shaking her head, she
turned back to the stone square at the center of the room, bending to read the
descriptive panel against the glass.
What she read there made her abruptly ill. This was the tomb? She’d heard the legend, of course, but she
hadn’t realized the crypt displayed in the museum would be authentic. Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to the
display once more, peered into the dark interior.
The stone would have been faintly cool to the touch, she thought,
and rough enough to come off as dust when you rubbed your fingers against
it… There was just enough space inside for
the lovers to sit crouched close together, hands clasped desperately, futilely,
each breath echoing in the darkness until there was no air left to breathe…
She gasped and pulled away, straightening as the sensation
faded. She took a reflexive step backwards,
and walked around to the back of the tomb, shaking her head to dispel the
images there. What an awful way to
die.
But on the other side she found him, staring at the stone with a
mixture of horror and fascination. Recoiling,
she walked quickly away and waited for her breathing to calm. When she felt steady once more, she made a
show of checking her watch. Turning
slightly, she caught sight of him once more, studying a model of a hunter. She frowned a little, unconsciously, unsure
why he seemed so familiar.
His eyes snapped up suddenly and locked with hers. She flushed, and then laughed a little even
as he did the same, each embarrassed to be caught staring. Of their own volition her eyes flew back to
the tomb behind him, and then they returned to his. She took a step toward him, still trying to
place his face, to shake off the fog that seemed to have enveloped her
thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last, smiling quizzically. “Do I-- do I know you? If you live next door to me and I’ve
forgotten your name…”
She laughed. “No, I don’t
think so.”
His smile widened. “I’d
like to think I’d remember a girl like you living next door,” he admitted, and
though there was appraisal and appreciation in his eyes, she found she didn’t
mind. In turn she let herself examine
him. He was taller than she but not by
much, muscular without being bulky, and dressed neatly in casual clothes. He wore a short beard, dark against his skin;
she didn’t usually care for facial hair on men, but somehow she thought it
suited him.
“You do look familiar, though,” he continued, jolting her out of
her scrutiny. The light in his eyes told
her he’d noticed, but he wasn’t upset.
“So do you,” she agreed, smiling back. “But we must be confused. I haven’t been in the city very long; I don’t
know many people here.”
“No?” he asked, surprised.
“No,” she admitted. “I’ve
only been in the city for a few weeks.”
He frowned a little at that.
“It must be hard being away from home.”
She nodded.
“Sometimes. Sometimes I think it
was a mistake to come so far, all by myself.”
She shook her head. “But why am I
telling you? A stranger I’ve just--” she
stopped abruptly, frowning. “I mean, I
don’t know you, and I’m sure you don’t really want to hear about how homesick I
am.”
“No,” he said quickly. “I’d
like to hear it. Do you… do you want to
get a cup of coffee? There’s a coffee
shop less than a block from here.” When
she hesitated, he spread his hands disarmingly.
“Hey, you’re new to the city, the least I can do is show you a decent
place for coffee.”
She smiled at last. “I’d
like that.”
~*~
He wanted to touch her.
It was an unnerving sensation.
He wasn’t easily won by a pretty face or a willing smile. He kept his distance. He didn’t meet strange women at museums and
practically beg them to have coffee with him.
He didn’t have to consciously remember to keep his hands to himself. If only she weren’t so darned familiar… He allowed his eyes to play over her once
more. She wore a white cotton sundress,
formfitting without being snug, and she moved with a simple grace. Her dark hair was intricately braided against
her head, swept back away from her face.
There was something independent in her eyes, her half-smile, but he
suspected she’d be breathtaking if she smiled fully.
He shook the image from his head.
As they exited the museum and headed out into the street, he allowed his
hand to drop briefly to the small of her back, ushering her through the door. He found his senses all focused on that
fleeting touch, mesmerized. The cotton
was soft beneath his fingertips and warm from her skin. He wanted to leave his hand there, pressed
firmly to her back, but he knew better.
“I never asked your name,” he said instead, pulling away once they were
outside.
She smiled. “Aiden.”
He extended a hand. “I’m
Rob. It’s nice to meet you, Aiden.”
She echoed the sentiment and fell silent again. It was a short walk, as he’d promised, and
when they were seated in the small café, he smiled nervously at her. “So, Aiden, what brings you to the big
city?”
She shrugged shyly and stirred idly at her drink. “I’m sort of an explorer… I like to see new things. I have a degree in anthropology. I’m hoping I’ll be able to get a position at
the museum.”
“So do you want to study Egypt?” Rob asked. “You seemed pretty interested in that tomb
back there.”
She raised her eyes, then lowered them again, quickly, as if she
did not want to look at him. “So did you.”
He nodded. “I can’t explain
it. I just… I couldn’t look away. It was almost familiar. The same way I couldn’t look away from--” he
stopped, embarrassed. After a moment, he
said, “What do you think it must have been like? Being buried alive?”
Aiden shuddered. “Awful,”
she said softly. “It would be
awful. They would put you in that box,
seal you in, and it would be dark, and you’d hear them shoveling the sand down
over you… The darkness would close around you, and then you would just wait, as
your oxygen melted away and the air got warmer and warmer… wait to die.”
“And the walls closing in around you… no escape...”
She nodded solemnly.
“Claustrophobic?”
He shrugged, embarrassed. “Yeah, a
little. At least they were together.
Nothing could come between them.”
“What do you think that must feel like?” she asked after a
moment. “Loving someone so much?”
Rob considered. “They say
she tried to take the blame for everything.
To spare him.”
“But he wouldn’t let her do it,” she continued. “He couldn’t turn his back on what was
right.”
“On her,” he agreed.
“He must have loved her very much,” she said quietly.
“And she him,” he replied.
He wanted to reach out to her, to lose himself in this sensation,
familiar and foreign at once, in the hesitant wonder in her voice and the shy
glow in her eyes. But there was still
some shard of control left in him, and it stayed his hand.
She withdrew abruptly, as if she’d known what he was thinking. “But they still died. If they’d been stronger--”
“If they had been stronger, Radames would have become Pharaoh and
laid waste to Nubia. Aida would have
died in slavery. Her father the king
would have died in slavery.”
“No, at the end,” she insisted.
“They were captured as she was trying to escape. She waited to say goodbye. If she’d left-- if she’d turned her back and
left him at the harbor--”
She was arguing her point coldly, calmly, but there was something
pained in her voice. “She loved him,” he
interrupted gently. “She needed to say
goodbye.”
Aiden shrugged. “Maybe she
should not have loved him in the first place.”
“Sometimes, you don’t get a choice,” he countered.
“Sometimes,” she agreed, speculatively, as if testing out the idea
as she spoke, “you meet someone and you find in him a reflection of yourself,
of what you want to be.” He met her gaze
steadily, and there was something passing between them, some message or meaning
he didn’t understand. All he could do
was look at her, lose himself in the darkness of her eyes and the seductively
familiar look on her face.
“And maybe you don’t even like him at first,” she continued,
closing her eyes. “But the things in
him, the things that touch you… you can’t ignore them. And you’d cling to him no matter what… even
in the dark, with your air running out and the walls closing in around
you. Because he gives you the strength
to be you, be who you want to be…”
She fell silent for a long moment, and this time he did reach out
to touch her, still caught in her spell, his fingers gently brushing over hers
where they curled around her coffee cup.
“You talk as if you knew them.” Or
as if you’d felt that way.
Her eyes snapped open, as if she’d only just realized what she’d
said, and the moment shattered. She gave
a wry smile. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess I was just over-empathizing. For a minute there I could almost feel what
it might have been like… It was
frightening.”
“The tomb? Being buried?”
Rob asked, confused by the sudden shift.
She blinked. “Yes. The tomb,” she answered slowly, and then
laughed a little. “Silly, isn’t
it?”
“No,” he said, sitting back in his seat. What had happened to them a moment ago? Whatever enchantment that had been was fading
now, the mood broken. “I imagine it must
be pretty amazing,” he blurted, trying to recapture the closeness they’d felt
before. At her questioning look, he
clarified. “To love someone that much.”
Aiden raised an eyebrow.
“No firsthand knowledge?”
He laughed. “No one I’ve
dated would have been willing to die for me.”
She laughed at that as well.
“Me neither. And I wouldn’t have
wanted to be buried alive with any of them.”
“I guess that sort of thing is pretty hard to come by,” he said,
wondering how she could speak so eloquently of an emotion she’d never
felt.
“I guess… At least they were together,” she said again. “I guess that’d be some comfort.”
They were silent for a while longer. At last he laughed a little
and said, “I still can’t figure out why you’re so familiar to me. I’m… I’m drawn to you.”
She looked surprised at the admission, and he was surprised
too. He hadn’t intended to say
that. But she smiled and said only,
“Perhaps I remind you of someone you once knew.
Someone you were drawn to.”
He thought, I’ve never been drawn to anyone this way. But her explanation was logical, safe, and so
he nodded. “Perhaps you do.”
~*~
Aiden closed her eyes, unsure whether to be relieved or
disappointed. Why had she dismissed what
he’d said? She felt it too, that familiarity, that attraction and kinship. Why had he let her dismiss it? But then, perhaps he was disappointed and
relieved as well.
It was frightening… He’d
met her eyes and there had been such emotion in his, real and electric, that
she’d had to look away. But something
had flashed through her, a moment of pure, overwhelming sensation. He’d thought she meant the tomb, and in the
museum that impression had been clear to her as well. But this time it had been something
else.
What might it be like, to love someone that much? And for just a moment she’d known
exactly what it was like. It filled her
senses and instinctively she closed her eyes, losing herself.
A man had been kneeling before her, hands spreading slowly across
her abdomen. He spoke softly,
hesitantly, of his growing love for her, an emotion he could neither explain
nor deny. She hesitated, and then her
hands were in his hair, and she’d tipped her head back, closed her eyes, let
the words and the caress wash through her.
He’d come to her vulnerable, but she wanted what he was offering. She needed only to admit it to herself.
She’d pulled him up to stand before her, his hands skimming up her
sides, and she had given herself over to him in that moment. His touch was warm on her back, and she’d
laid her hands against his chest, easing his open jacket off his shoulders and
exploring the smooth warmth of his skin.
He pulled her close, and she went willingly, and then their hands were
everywhere…
Every touch had been awed and affectionate, unhurried, as if they
had all the time in the world to learn and explore. It was an emotion neither of them had ever
expected to feel, especially in this time and place, and when his lips had met
hers at last she’d wrapped her arms around him as if never to let go. She’d fallen back and he leaned over her, a
wondering love in his eyes, and she had risen to meet him…
And then Rob had touched her hand, and the scene was gone, and she
couldn’t have said what it was or where it had come from. She’d laughed, made an excuse. And she’d tried not to realize, to remember,
that it had been Rob in that momentary dream, Rob’s hands sliding over her back
and Rob’s mouth on hers…
She shivered and tried to put
that image out of her head. In as light
a tone as she could manage, she said, “You never said what you were doing in
the city.”
Rob shrugged. “I’m a little
of an explorer myself. I didn’t grow up
here, but I’ve moved around a lot… I’m a
teacher, history and geography, at the high school on Broad Street.” He smiled ruefully. “I love the museum. I go there a lot… And if you’ll be working
there, I’ll have to come more often.”
She stiffened a little, nervously, but after a moment she smiled
and said, “I’d like that.” She was
surprised to find it was true.
He smiled back, and her heart
did a little flip before she could quiet it.
This was foolish. In fact, it was
ridiculous. She took a sip of her coffee
only to find the cup empty. Rob noticed
and flashed her a rueful grin. “Do you
want another cup, or do you have somewhere you need to be?”
“No,” she said, and then clarified, “I don’t have anywhere to be,
but that’s enough caffeine for me.”
“Okay,” he agreed. He was
quiet for a minute, and then he said, “Are you on your way home, then?”
Aiden nodded. “Yes.”
He hesitated. “Maybe I
could walk you there?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said quickly, “you don’t have to--”
“I want to,” he insisted, his hand finding hers again. “Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be
if I let the lady walk home alone through a strange neighborhood?”
It was foolish, she knew that, but his hand was warm and firm over
hers, and she found herself nodding shyly.
“Okay.”
Rob rewarded her with another bright smile, and she found herself
smiling back. She’d forgotten how much
fun it could be simply to spend time with someone friendly and attractive and
interesting. Maybe she’d never
known.
~*~
Rob put his hand on her back once more as he escorted her out of
the coffee shop, and this time he let it linger, carefully passive, just
absorbing the warmth and wonder of her.
This was craziness, he knew that, but he couldn’t ignore what he
was feeling, the incredible pull of attraction, affection, intrigue… It was
thrilling and terrifying and intoxicating all at once.
As it turned out, her apartment was far enough to warrant a ride
on the subway. He pointed them in the
direction of the nearest stop and they walked slowly, not in any hurry to reach
their destination.
That’s a good sign, isn’t it?
She isn’t rushing to leave you behind.
He supposed it was a good sign.
But he wasn’t even sure at the moment what it was he wanted to
happen. He would walk her home. Once he got there, he wasn’t sure what he
would do. He didn’t expect an invitation
in-- he didn’t want one, if it meant what some people implied it
did. He might be very disappointed to
get one, he realized slowly. He
respected her. He expected something
more of her.
What, then, did he want?
A phone number… a last name, he thought, realizing in dismay that he
didn’t have even that. Or one look in
her eyes-- just one-- a look for me.
The kind of look she’d worn when she’d spoken of a love one would die
for. His hand moved involuntarily on her
back, gently, up and down in a light caress.
She did not appear to notice, or, if she did, to mind. But he had noticed. Everything in him had noticed and he wanted
to touch her more fully.
He didn’t. He couldn’t.
But neither could he quiet the rising rush of emotion in him, and it was
frighteningly familiar. He’d never felt this
way. Why did he remember it all, the
giddy, desperate moments of puppy love and the deeper, more solemn ones of a
stronger affection? And why now, for her?
With an effort he stilled his hand on her back, drawing a deep
breath. This had to stop. It wasn’t right. It couldn’t happen.
Why not?
He frowned, considering, and then frowned more deeply when he
realized he didn’t have a particular reason.
Certainly he was falling very quickly, more quickly than he was used to…
but that in itself wasn’t a reason.
Arriving at the subway station, he ushered her down the stairs
into the tunnel. There was a scattered
handful of people on the platform, waiting for the train. He leaned back
against the wall of the platform and she stood in front of him, watching Rob
looked at her sidelong, studying her profile in the dim light and the
inexplicably familiar lines of her face.
The apprehension was rising in him, the irrational panic at the way he
felt, but the more he concentrated on it, the more he realized that it too was
a familiar sensation. More remembered
than actually felt in the present.
So what did that mean? That
his affection for her-- he hesitated to call it love-- was somehow related to
some experience in his past… and so was his fear? And that neither emotion was necessarily
appropriate for her, in this time and place?
That didn’t feel quite right either. Whatever it was he felt for her, love or
something else, seemed very real. An
emotion that was echoed but not eclipsed by the memory of another love. But the fear, the firm reminder that this
couldn’t be permitted to happen, felt more like a shadow, a ghost. It wasn’t needed here.
At that unexpected revelation, his hand moved to curve of her
shoulder and slid slowly down over her arm.
He couldn’t say where the gesture came from, where the courage to make
it came from… except…
Except for a moment he’d seen another shape in front of him, the
silhouette of a woman, and remembered laying a hand against her just so, slowly
brushing the backs of his fingers over her skin… Remembered loving her, wanting her, and
knowing she was fighting the same feeling.
He’d tried to tell her, to ask her, and she’d resisted, but she shivered
under his touch and he knew she couldn’t resist forever.
And before he realized what he’d done, his hand had traced slowly,
deliberately over Aiden’s arm and back, replaying that dream, and she shivered,
but she didn’t stiffen or pull away. She
stayed frozen in place, caught in the spell he’d cast, and he stepped forward
helplessly, trapped himself. His free
hand landed on her other shoulder, and he took another step, pressing closer
but not quite touching. He closed his
eyes and lowered his head…
A sudden wind through the tunnel heralded the coming of the train,
and she sprang away from him as if burned.
~*~
And what had that been?
Aiden drew several deep breaths, struggling to calm her frantic
heartbeat, pounding both in attraction and terror. She squeezed her eyes closed, hands fisted,
body rigid, as she brought herself back under control. When she opened her eyes again, the train was
slowing to a stop before them. She could
not look at him; she was grateful when he took her by the elbow and pushed her
gently onboard. They were the only two
in this compartment, a rarity during the day.
When they were moving again, Rob spoke up. “I’m sorry.
I don’t even know--”
“Don’t,” she interrupted.
“It wasn’t you.” She meant it; it
hadn’t been his actions that frightened her.
She could deal with an unwanted advance.
It was her reaction that upset her.
He drew a breath as if to say more, and then fell silent with a
sigh. She relaxed a little, relieved
that he wasn’t going to pursue the issue.
She couldn’t look at him; she certainly couldn’t talk about this with
him. She closed her eyes and the
sensation passed through her again, the touch of a lover, the echo of a memory
she couldn’t have. She wondered briefly
if she were losing her mind. It had felt
good. It had felt right. And it had been Rob, both in vision and in
reality.
“I don’t know you,” she said softly, almost pleadingly. “I don’t know you at all.” She drew her arms tightly about herself, her
back still to him. “I don’t understand
what’s happening to us.”
“I don’t understand it either,” he said quickly. “It’s crazy, I know. But I feel it. I can’t pretend I don’t. Can you?”
She did not answer, and then his hands fell on her shoulders
again, turning her to face him. “Look at
me?” he asked, a question rather than a command.
She raised her eyes defiantly, summoning anger and contempt in
defense. “I’m attracted to you. It doesn’t mean anything. Lust isn’t love,” she spat harshly, and he
stepped back.
“No,” he said softly, his arms falling away from her. “No, it’s not.” He was silent for a moment, eyes downcast,
and she was instantly sorry she’d been so sharp. “If that’s all this is…”
“No,” she replied at last, hating to admit it but unable to lie to
him, to see him so disenchanted. “I
don’t know what this is. But it can’t be
real. You-- you are a stranger.”
“I don’t have to be,” Rob replied quickly, offering a tentative
smile. “I don’t want to be.”
He lifted a hand again, and she did not flinch, let him touch her
chin and tilt her face up to look at him.
“I know this is strange, and frightening... I’m scared of it, too. But I feel like… like I’ve found something I
didn’t know I’d been searching for.
Something amazing. And if you’re
feeling even a fraction of that, there has to be a reason.” He hesitated, and then continued, “I can see
you in my mind… remember you. I remember
holding you…I don’t understand it. But I
know you. I know you, and maybe I always
have.”
She swallowed hard. “How
can we remember things that never happened?”
Even now she could feel the insistent pull of that connection, flowing
beneath their conversation like an undertow, drawing her to him.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
“I don’t understand it. But I
feel it.”
“It feels good,” she admitted softly, and this time it was her
turn to initiate contact, laying a hand tentatively on his chest. “They’re pleasant memories.”
“Yes,” he agreed, his hand moving to cover hers but not pushing
for further contact.
“And what you said about looking for something… about finding what
you were looking for… that sounds familiar,” she said, slowly, turning the
words over in her mind. She raised her
other hand to join the first and took a step toward him. His hand left hers to settle tentatively at
her waist.
“Does it?” he asked softly, watching her.
Aiden couldn’t explain what she
was doing, what she wanted or why she wanted it. Reason said this was madness, that she should
run from him. She should take a step
back, look at things impartially, pursue this slowly if at all. She certainly shouldn’t be standing here with
him, her body a breath from his, their eyes locked, his hands warm at her
waist… But it felt right, in a way she
couldn’t explain. She was attracted to
him, surely, but it wasn’t desire that drew her. It was something warmer, less urgent,
something that spread gently through her from every point of contact between
their bodies, tender and peaceful. It
felt just as he’d described it, like finding something she hadn’t realized she
was looking for. And suddenly it seemed
as if it would be very easy to give into that, to take it for what it was, even
if it lasted only a day, an hour. She
didn’t know how to fight anymore. She
swayed toward him, drawn by that sensation, stepping finally into his embrace
and letting his arms close around her.
“Aiden?” His hands moved
firmly, soothingly over her back, but there was uncertainty in his voice.
When she realized what she had done, she flushed and dropped her
eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly,
unable to look up at him. “I’m not
trying to send mixed signals. It’s just…
nice… to be near you. Is that
okay?”
“Of course it’s okay,” he said with a grin, and his embrace
tightened a little. “I like being near
you, too.” Rob shifted, drawing her
closer, and his eyes were affectionate and tender. She hesitated for a moment, awkward and
embarrassed, and then lay her head down against his shoulder, sliding her hands
down around his waist. He hugged her
tightly for a minute and then relaxed, and she sighed softly. How could that be something she’d always wanted? Simply to feel him solid under her, warm and
breathing, holding her? How could it be
something she remembered?
And again an image rose unbidden in her mind, a sensation, and she
shuddered. He was lying facing her, his
arm propped loosely over her body, his face calm. His gasping breath had stilled now, and even
through the heavy haze in her mind she knew...
She drew herself as close to him as she could through the pain in her
body, unable even to cry now. She shut
her eyes and her mind drew in on itself…
Aiden made a sound of horror and buried her face in his shoulder,
fighting sudden and inexplicable tears.
She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to explain that last image to him,
to explore it in any depth at all. He sensed
her distress and started to pull back, to ask her about it, but she held tight
to him. “It’s okay,” she said softly,
getting her teary eyes under control.
“I’m okay. I was surprised,
that’s all. Just stay…”
Rob obliged. He let one of
his hands slide upward, running soothing fingers along the back of her neck,
and gradually she relaxed against him.
She felt him turn his head, press his lips against her hair, and she
couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, at the happy warmth that bubbled inside
her in response.
And with that warmth came the courage to speak up again. “I remember you, too,” she said softly. “I started to remember in the coffee
shop. I thought I was just making it
up.”
He laughed. “Maybe we are
just making it up. What did you
remember?” He pulled away enough to look
her in the eye, his hands still clasped behind her waist.
“It was nighttime, I think,” she said, embarrassed and unsure how
to describe the sensation she’d felt. “I
was standing, and a man was on his knees in front of me… He-- You-- He was
someone I knew I couldn’t have. Someone
forbidden to me. But he said he loved
me.”
“You tried to resist him,” Rob continued, closing his eyes as if
trying to call up an image. “When he
tried to touch you, at first, you flinched from him.”
She wondered at his continued use of the vague pronoun, but was
grateful for the illusion of distance it gave her. It was hard enough to speak of the memory
abstractly; to admit it was Rob there in her thoughts would be infinitely
harder. “I couldn’t run. I should have run,” she said, the images
becoming clearer to her as she concentrated.
“But I couldn’t. And when he
tried again, I let him.”
“Because you were attracted to him?”
“Because I was beginning to love him,” Aiden whispered, and there
was surprise in her tone. “Because being
with him was exciting, and terrifying, and wondrous….” She drew a breath. “And once I let him, I couldn’t pull away
again. I wanted what he wanted. He could make me feel…” she shook her head,
unable to find the words she wanted.
“Like we had all the time we needed.
Like I fascinated him, every inch of me, and he wanted to touch… and I
wanted to touch him, too.” Aiden flushed
at the explanation, suddenly aware of how intimate the words were, how close
she was standing to him and how similar the emotions she’d described were to
what she felt now.
“I remember trying to persuade her,” he said, almost absently as
his own mind replayed some vision. “I
remember approaching her so slowly, so tentatively. She knew, better than I did, that it couldn’t
happen. But she… she captivated me. She was strong and proud and beautiful… I couldn’t help myself. She was unlike anyone I’d ever known.”
“And how did you
succeed?”
Rob shrugged helplessly.
“What could I do, except tell her the truth? And offer her everything I could?”
“Your heart,” she prompted, her voice very small.
“I told her everything. How
I felt about her, what I wanted, how nothing around us mattered…. I knew it was crazy, but I wanted everything
she could give me, and it didn’t matter what the cost was.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want a single night with her. But I think--” he broke off, frowning, as he
struggled to remember. “I think that’s
all I got,” he said at last, softly, and there was a deep sorrow in his
voice.
Aiden shuddered again, leaning in to lay her head down once more
on his shoulder. “I think I remember
that, too,” she whispered. “The
cost.”
He stiffened against her.
“What?”
“I remember,” she said again.
“I think I was dying… I think you were already dead. I pulled myself as close to you as I could,
and I closed my eyes… I knew it
couldn’t happen. And we paid for it.”
“God, Aiden,” he said, shocked and horrified, tightening his hold
on her.
She realized she’d been more specific this time, identifying the
man in her memory as him. Why was it
easier to admit to a memory of death than a memory of love?
It was what you deserved.
He was a weakness, and you paid for it.
He paid for it.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” she said hastily, forestalling any further
comment he might have made. “All of it
is crazy. How can I remember dying? How can I remember any of this?” The motion of the train slowed, and she
pulled quickly away from him. This was
their stop. “It’s not far from here,”
she continued. “You can catch a train
back home if you like.”
“I said I’d walk you home,” he said, smiling a little,
though she could see in his eyes a trace of disappointment or hurt at her
sudden withdrawal. “I meant all the
way.”
She shrugged as indifferently as she could manage. “Okay,” she said, turning from him toward the
door.
“You know,” he said as she started toward the door, “I’m a big
boy. I was a big boy then. I made my own choices.”
Aiden turned back, frowning at the non sequitur.
“You can’t save me from them,” he continued softly. “It’s not your responsibility, even if you
could.” He hesitated, and then took a
step forward and slipped his hand firmly into hers. “I’d have done it again. I would have done it all again. Somehow I know that.”
She looked down at their entwined fingers, alternating dark and
light, and tried to digest what he’d said.
He was right, of course. He’d
made his choices, then and now, and to him they’d been the right ones. How was it she’d never understood that?
Something in her, some long-held tension of shame or guilt,
relaxed at last, and she found herself smiling a little in spite of
herself.
~*~
Rob let her lead the way up to the street; this was her
neighborhood, after all, and he didn’t feel able to focus on finding his way
through foreign streets. His mind was
still reeling, elated and terrified at once.
The front of his body still burned where she’d been pressed to him, warm
and solid, and in his mind was a jumble of images and sensations. Kneeling before her, pleading; the latent,
hesitant affection in her eyes; rising to take her unresisting into his arms;
the silk of her skin beneath his calloused hands; the taste of her on his lips
and the softness of her body beneath him…
And utter darkness around him as he gasped, desperate, her body
tucked against his as she fought for breath.
He closed his eyes against that memory, appalled. He knew now what must have prompted her tears
in the subway. What an awful thing to
remember.
But it was only that, he told himself firmly. A memory.
It wasn’t real now. As awful as
it had been then, it couldn’t hurt them anymore.
He knew she was afraid. She
didn’t trust him or the inexplicable bond between them. But she’d let him hold her, had taken comfort
in being close to him, in the pressure of his embrace and his gentle kiss in
her hair. That was promising, wasn’t
it? And she’d confessed her memories to
him, though it made her blush to admit what she remembered passing between
them. With every picture she’d painted,
his own memories became clearer, details unlocked as she described them, and
now he recalled the scene she’d spoken of as clearly as if it had happened
today. She was right; they were pleasant
memories.
And it had felt so good to hold her, a mixture of relief and joy,
disbelief and pleasure. He hadn’t
expected her to feel that way. He hadn’t
expected any of it. But he couldn’t lose
it now. Not again, he
thought. If he were right, he’d had only
one night the first time. He didn’t want
that now.
“Where do we go from here?” he asked softly.
Aiden looked up at him with dark, shadowed eyes. “What do you mean?” She was still withdrawing, and his heart sank
at the realization.
“Well,” he said slowly, “will I see you again? Can I call you? I don’t even know your last name.”
Aiden gave him a speculative look.
“You want to see me again?”
He raised an eyebrow, unwilling to play games with her. “Do you want to see me again?”
She glanced down at their clasped hands. “Yes,” she admitted softly. “I do.
But I don’t know what this is. I
don’t know how we’ll feel about this tomorrow, or the day after that. It may all seem crazy then. It seems crazy now.”
“It seems right now,” he corrected. “And I think it will feel right tomorrow.”
She stopped walking, pulled her hand away from his to step back
and face him. “How can you be so
sure? Why are you so confident about
this?”
Rob shook his head. “I
don’t know. I only know that I’ve never
felt this way before. And I want to
feel this way forever.” He laughed
self-consciously. “That sounds stupid, I
know.”
“No,” she interrupted softly.
She took a step toward him, raising a hand to touch him but aborting the
gesture before it could land. “I just
can’t submit to it so easily.”
“Because you don’t trust me?”
“That’s not it,” she said, turning away and resuming their
walk. “But I don’t know you at
all.”
“That’s not true,” he said in a low voice. “You know me, because you remember me. And I remember you. I remember what happened.”
Something flickered in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to
protest, but he continued, “I don’t mean that I expect you to be… her. I don’t expect our lives to follow that
pattern. Frankly,” he said, smiling a
little, “all things considered, I’d rather they didn’t.” When she smiled reluctantly back, he
continued, “I only remember you.
I loved her, and I think I could love you. That’s enough for me.
“But let’s say I’m a stranger.
That would mean you’re a stranger to me, too. I’m not asking anything of you, Aiden. Just the chance not to be a
stranger.” He caught her hand and
stopped her again, pulling her to face him.
“I just want to try. If
things don’t work out tomorrow, then that’s the way things go. But at least we’ll know.”
She looked up at him for a long moment, searching his eyes. Finally she smiled. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, we will.” She fell silent for a minute, and then added,
“You can call me. Or I’ll call
you.” She fished in her purse for a
moment until she found a scrap of paper and scribbled a telephone number on it
before turning again and leading him up the sidewalk.
He smiled, accepting the slip and putting it carefully in his
pocket. “Will you have dinner with
me? Friday?”
She smirked, slyly, her courage apparently growing. “You want to wait until Friday?”
Rob laughed. “Absolutely
not.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I’d like that,” he replied.
“I’ll pick you up.”
She came to a stop in front of an apartment building. “This is it,” she said, releasing his hand so
she could face him. “Thank you for
walking me home,” she continued uncertainly.
“I’ll be fine from here.”
“Okay,” he agreed, taking a reluctant step backward, but she
didn’t turn to leave. She remained there
simply looking at him, an unreadable look in her eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he added
tentatively.
“Tomorrow,” she repeated, but she took a step towards him and laid
a hand on his chest once more. Her eyes
were warm and wide, affectionate but slightly challenging, and he fell into
them before he could stop himself.
“Aiden,” he said helplessly, raising his hand to her cheek and
bending to kiss her. She fell against
him without hesitation, her hands landing on his chest and then moving slowly
up to curl around his neck. He thrilled
at the sensation of her, warm under his hands and willing under his kiss. He hadn’t expected this, neither the
opportunity to kiss her nor the incredible rush of emotion it afforded him,
faintly familiar, definitely real.
She deepened the kiss and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling
her body close and tight, sliding his hand back over her hair. When the memories rose in his mind this time,
they matched the reality of her, the touch of her hands in his hair and the
curve of her body pressed to his, the taste of her… Every sensation was known,
recognized on a level he didn’t understand.
But he knew her, had always known her, just as he’d said, and had
always loved her.
She fell away with a gasp, managing his name before she met him
again, and he found himself whispering against her lips. He didn’t understand the words, didn’t know
where they’d come from, but she pulled away to smile at him when she heard
them, pressing her cheek to his and hugging him tightly. Then she was kissing him again, and he closed
his eyes and let remembered joy merge with reality.
~*~
Aiden spread her hands across his chest, warm and smooth beneath
the fabric of his shirt, and surrendered to the thrill of pleasure rising in
her.
She had to admit that part of her had been hoping to disprove this
connection between them, to feel nothing in his kiss. It had been a foolish hope, she was forced to
admit; the touch of his hands, his embrace, had evoked such an intense emotion,
why would the touch of his mouth be less moving?
And it wasn’t, couldn’t be.
She hadn’t been prepared for the rush of elation and attraction that
went through her, the knowledge that she’d remembered this so perfectly… She’d fallen into his arms and given herself
over to it once again, as she had in the memory and as she would always
do.
She pulled away to gasp for breath, and then reclaimed his lips
again. He was talking now, whispering
something over and over against her skin.
She had to strain to hear him, but when she did, a thrill went through
her. She couldn’t explain what the words
meant, why they were important, but the sound of them was enough to dispel the
last shadows of doubt in her. This was
right. There was no need to fear him,
and there never had been. She remembered
that now.
Aiden wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, breaking the
kiss and simply pressing herself as close to him as she could. His whisper was clear even over the pounding
rhythm of her heart.
“Found you… found you…”
~*~
RADAMES
There'll be no ties of time and space to bind us
AIDA
And no horizon we shall not pursue
RADAMES & AIDA
We'll leave the world's misfortunes far behind us
And I will put my faith and trust in you…
--Aida (Scene 22)
~*~
[the end]
Notes: I’ve allowed Aiden and
Rob to recall scenes and small bits of dialogue from the script, as they begin
to remember more and more of their past lives.
I’ve also taken some lines from the early previews, Elaborate Lives
and the Chicago version of Aida. Some
of them aren’t quite word-for-word quotes; sometimes they didn’t fit the
dialogue that way. I’m not going to
attribute each and every reference individually, but I don’t want to take
credit for anything that’s not mine.