"My Heart Was Home Again"
So it goes, history shows
Deserts must expand
And camels sail like wooden ships
Like women on the strand
There's sand on Second Avenue
And the wind blows like a train
Taxis light up like a string of pearls
Around the block again
The world of downtown Dublin seemed to resemble a snow globe: a shield around the setting kept all within it to revel in their security, and all outside to look on in sometimes awe, and sometimes jealousy of the peace encapsulated. The sky was a deep blue, betraying the stars that hid in the midst, outlining the peaks of the buildings surrounding him. Dead, scraggly trees that dared to stand in the bitter winter were adorned with jubilant strings of lights, entwining through the branches and creating webs of light that lit everything in a warm glow. Snow, giving off a night- blue tinge on one side and a golden one on the other, fell in neat pile atop the roofs and along the sides of buildings, running in through the cobblestones like the veins of a leaf. What surface was not covered in Christmas splendor sparkled with slight covering of frost, reflecting the images of passing carolers and late shoppers. The whole square seemed to be radiating a certain homeliness and joy that joined the whole world in union at this time of year. The feelings that stopped everyone in their tracks to drop them in a different world: one of only joy and peace, of remembrance and love.
If anyone looked upon this snow-globe like world, they would all see the beautiful scene, completely missing the sad shadow moving across the view. The shadow moved slowly yet thoroughly, branching off at different intervals to explore different shops, cozy pubs, and old bookstores. But it moved listlessly, as though remembering times gone by, absorbing each emotion as if it were a tangible thing.
These observations, though slightly generalized, were not far from the truth. For indeed, the young man was trying to remember something gone by- himself.
Artemis James Fowl looked very inconspicuous for his normally incongruous self. Instead of the characteristic arrogant look was one of submitted sadness, and instead of the sure walk, he seemed uncertain and remorseful. With his hands shoved into the pockets of his fleece jacket and his slacks-encased legs dragging over the stones, he appeared more the typical teenager than an infamous Fowl.
He paused in front of small pub, pressing his face against the glass, feeling the cold surface battle with the warm heat from the inside. Inside the pub resided the feeling of unity and fun, centered on a small group near the window. The warm lights cast golden streaks across their typical Irish features, lighting the red hair in a fiery glow. Their smiles were bright and their fingers quick as they played their instruments, the music curling around the other residents like wind in flowers. One young lady looked particularly happy, her shoulders and hips swaying to the strokes of her fiddle, her eyes closed to revel in its beauty. Her red hair, loose and curly, fell in beautiful waves about her shoulders and onto her fiddle, making her seem like a fey of old Irish myth.
Artemis continued to stare as her vibrant green eyes opened and pierced through the frosty glass, smiling a wide smile at him, and beckoned him with a nod of her head. His features saddened, and he shook his head, pulling away from the warmth and back into the wind. Her smile shrank, and she watched the shadow move silently away.
And I remembered everything
And every windowpane
Every word came back to me
The way it used to be
He walked slowly up the sidewalk, streams of taxi's zooming past him endlessly, throwing slight flakes of snow up at his cold-stained cheek, feeling like little prickles against his skin. He passed the bookstore, with the elderly lady who always passed out hot coffee, passed the tobacco shop, with the stray dog that garnered everyone's attention, and the cupcake store with his favorite cinnamon cupcakes.
He passed all of these, remembering…. Remembering remembering. He remembered walking through here every Christmas Eve, as per his tradition. He remembered that he felt truly happy when he passed through here, but he only remembered that it happened. He didn't truly remember. He wasn't him anymore. He was half genetic- petri- dish, and half leftovers. He wasn't Artemis anymore. He was merely a shell of what everyone expected him to be.
He carded a cold hand through his wind-tossed hair. How could he be the old Artemis? It was like reading a book so many times that you could recall every detail, though it had the natural detachment any work of fiction had- you knew it simply didn't exist. Yet he knew Artemis existed, and his memories were carried over to him, yet… it seemed like a book. Or perhaps a dream. It was so real, yet did not exist. How could he be the old Artemis, the one everyone wanted, the one everyone wished for while looking at him pityingly?
He hopped across the street and onto the bridge that protruded from the street like a triumphant finger, pointing to the snow clouds. Shuffling along the edge, he glanced down at the street below him, the cars lighting the night like a stream of pearls. Trees stood stately in the island of the road, their branches adorned with yellow lights, making the snow look all the more festive. People milled about the road, pointing to the distant landscapes of Dublin excitedly. He avoided all of them, floating quietly around like a wraith.
Then I saw your face across the street
And my heart was home again
His gaze flitted to the line of trees, remembering when Artemis found Beckett stuck in one of them, sobbing loudly for his mother. He shook his head, warding off the floods of memories that would come, whether related to the subject at hand or not.
And, as his sharp blue eyes jumped from tree to tree, he froze, one certain trunk drawing his attention and making his vision tunnel, only showing the young lady before him.
Holly stood beside a tree, looking for all the world like a young girl out for the Christmas sights, wrapped in a knee-length wool sweater, large boots, and a white beret, accentuating her red hair and beautiful features that peaked out over the creamy white scarf. The electric lights and the nearby streetlamps threw a myriad of blue and gold tones over her small form, making her rosy cheeks and easy smile stand out. The Christmas splendor seemed to affect her as well, as her step was light and happy as she danced among the trees like one of the fey. Her form flitted in and out of the trees and through the snow, the steady stream seeming to soften to a soft descent as it neared her. She turned, as if sensing his presence, and the brilliant eyes lit brighter, like seeing a long-lost lover.
Slight inklings of memory came flitting through his mind; teasers of memories yet to come. A train. A troll. A man, dying on a restaurant floor. Demons. Numbers, swirling in his vision. A tunnel of magic, surrounding him in motion.
A kiss.
Then a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth for the first time in months, making the cold eyes seem a little warmer, and the skin a little less stony.
And suddenly, his new life seemed a little brighter.
There's a bus that leaves at 8:15
And another one at 10:00
Should I climb aboard, risk everything
And ride it to the end
Watch the hills like roller coasters
Up against the sky
And wish that you were here by me
So close that I could die
Holly sniffed against her scarf, wishing for the world she were coming to the surface for happier reasons. Not that the ritual wasn't happy, but she had made it a tradition, before Artemis left to stop at his mansion for a non chaotic, peace-filled reunion. But ever since he had returned to them, he had been... Different. He seemed more distant and cold, though not like when she had first met him. It was more of a hurt silence that he carried.
He had gone as far as to tell her she wasn't needed. How could she bear that? She, against her own wishes, had come to depend greatly on their friendship. She needed their connection more than any other in her life: it kept her grounded. How could she deal without him?
She stumbled slightly as she bumped into a passing man, giving a hurried apology as he gave her a cordial nod. Around her, shoppers crowding shops, mud men chatting away on their antiquated cell phones... It was the typical city life in Dublin. Of course, she had come prepared for such chaos, dressing like a young human, wanting to get away from life for a small moment. Foaly had practically forced her: he had seen her hitting her breaking point. So he shoved the outfit to her and pushed her out of the shuttle, telling her to take the night off.
The diminutive elf spun around, taking in the sights of the city with wide, slightly fearful eyes. Night pressed down around her, making each light blinding. The world blew past her like a speedy view out of a vehicle. Sound billowed past her like the waves of a storm, cars honking, people talking, feet pounding... It was all so stifling. Giving a growl of frustration, she trotted off the sidewalk and across the street, stopping at the bus stop. Few people milled about there- traffic was small at night for buses.
The fates must have had pity on her, for she stood there for a mere five minutes before A small, maroon bus pulled up, driven by a portly elderly woman. She smiled and, in the loud voice that comes from using a hearing aid, and a thick Irish accent, she yelled.
"You wanna a ride, lass? You sure ah a wee little thang." her smile was broad and toothy as Holly climbed aboard, settling into the empty bus at the front row, across from the driver.
"Yes, ma'am. I am older than I look though. Seventeen."
The driver's eyes widened. "Whoa, missy! You shore don't look it. Are you sure?"
Holly gave a proper blush. "Yes'm. I'm just short."
A whistle. "Well, I'll be. Forgive me, child, where are my manners. Name's Lori. What's yours, and where to?" she put the bus in gear, pulling from her stop jerkily and sliding forward into the lanes of traffic.
"Holly, ma'am. Too..." she peered forward as she pursed her lips. She shrugged. "Somewhere quiet."
Lori gave a knowing smile, nodding to her. "Downtown it is, then. Prettiest place there is in Dublin. Mind if ask what is wrong? You seem kinda lonesome."
Holly started. This woman was smarter than she looked. While watching the elf bauble head bounce in the window in time with the Christmas music that blared through the radios, she gave her story. Edited, of course.
"My...friend, who lives not far from here, was in an accident, and lost his memories. He would not have been so hurt if he had not been shielding his family... We've been friends through thick and thin, but he does not remember me. It is heart-breaking."
Lori looked sympathetically at her, and reached a gnarled hand around to pat hers. And, in a whisper Holy didn't know was possible for the woman, she spoke.
"You weren't just friends, were you?"
Holly gripped the hand with surprising warmth, until letting it go so she could drive.
"Not to me. I don't know about him."
Lori nodded and stayed silent for a while, seemingly engrossed in an internal dialogue.
Holly leaned her head up against the cool glass pane, the temperature feeling reviving against her skin. A heater up by her ears blasted hot air in a noisy fashion, rivaling even the song in its volume. The seats were soft and fuzzy, with indistinct stains littering it, and the smell of old car hung around her, among some stale perfume. The city passed outside them, lights swirling and streaking across the night as they passed store after store lit brightly for the holidays. The ocean flashed between building, just out of view from their street, but the reflecting ripples revealed the full moon shining atop them, lighting dead branches on the side. The street levels rose and fell with the Irish hills, bringing her high into the night and then down into the festivities.
She felt her movement slow as they pulled to a stop, the car giving whiny moans. Lori looked back towards her with a soft smile.
"This will be a good place for you to think."
Holy nodded and stood up, brushing her lap to rid her jacket of wrinkles, and slid silently down the narrow steps. But before the frosty glass closed, Lori grasped her hand once more.
"Hey, darling. You are a good person, I can tell. And one of the most feeling people I have ever met. And I've seen a lot. So, when I tell you this, keep it to heart. I have learned a lot in my days of driving around much less kind people. Even if the boy doesn't remember you, the heart always remembers. It will find you. He will find you, if not with his mind, with his yearning heart. Help him find you. He wouldn't deserve you, I am sure, but if you love him, then he should not be so unfortunate as to lose that blessing. Good luck, child."
Holly reached and squeezed her hand, giving the woman a smile in return and stepping out into the cold. She watched as the doors closed, stealing her last moments of warmth and drive away, and leading way to the next passing cars. The wreath on the back of the bus jumped and rocked until it was obscured by flurries kicked up from the tires.
You say love wrecks everything
And none of us survive
So I got over you last night
And I am still alive
Then I saw your face across the street
And my heart was home again
She stepped back from the road side, and turned about to see the city around her. The small pubs and shops seemed to gently sit in the world of snow, lighting a cozy path towards the bridge ahead. She trudged forward, shuffling forward as the snow piled up in front of her shoes and specking her eyelashes in a sticky coating. Her feet carried her across streets and bridges, bearing her way-ward mind that jumped from subject to subject. Eventually she found herself flitting between trees that were lit magnificently. The lights were small and yellow, twining around the stark gray branches, giving the gloomy scene a bright, warm feeling.
She felt a smile tug at her lips as a snowflake landed precariously on the tip of her nose, then falling along with the rest of them, sparkling on its way down. From her short stature, as she stared upwards to the lights, the branches seemed to go on forever, lighting the world with an eternal light that would stretch through the ages and give everyone warm joy like she herself had received.
A giggle escaped her throat; the first one in a very, very long time. Happiness expanded her chest and filled her to the breaking point, goading her to act. So she acted: jumping and twirling in the snow like the child she appeared to be, giggling as snow feathered across her skin, and spinning through the trees.
After a few moments, she sighed, face to the sky and arms stretched out. This was happiness. She was okay. Life would continue spinning, and she would get stronger by the day. Artemis would regain his memories, and this fog they landed in would soon clear.
A slight niggling in her mind caused her to turn around, feeling the slight tickling of a stare on her neck. There, lit warmly by the lights, stood Artemis, a small smile giving his eyes the tenderness that was reserved only for her. Holly's smile stretched further as she let her arms fall to her sides, and then stretched out a hand as if to beckon him.
His steps were wary as he shuffled over to her side. His hand clasped hers tenderly as she tugged him along, spinning him around and around as the snow fell in joyful dances over them.
They would make it. They could regain their past joy and friendship. They just needed… home. Each other.
And I remembered everything
And every windowpane
Every word came back to me
The way it used to be
Then I saw your face across the street
And my heart was home
And my heart was home
Again
~O~
So, the first one. I will probably post the next one Saturday, and then each Wednesday until Christmas. There are five, after all. And each song will be posted in you-tube links on my profile if you would like to hear them. You see, a few of them are not even about the lyrics: most of them are for the emotion the song inspires.
But anyway, this song, 'My Heart Was Home Again' by Celtic Woman, is the song for this chapter, and a flickr picture will be linked. It looks exactly like what I imagine the city to look like. (In fact, it inspired the story, so.. ya.) :)
Oh, and if you listen to the song, let me know if you think it sounds like a Christmas song. I think it does, but one of my dear friends ensures me it does not. What think-est thou?