From within or from behind, a light shines through us upon things, and makes us aware that we are nothing, but the light is all.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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At first I was confused. They'd taken my bones to a museum. I recognized it from field trips. Why had they taken me to a museum?
I quickly realized they weren't taking me to the exhibit halls I'd seen before. The big truck that carried my box drove past the familiar front doors, away from the tourists and the visitors and into a garage that opened deep underground. Long hallways led back up, to a room that reminded me of the science lab at school. It was open and bright and there were machines that hummed and beeped and tables that gleamed silver under the lights. My box was lifted carefully to one of those silver tables and a young man stepped over to open it. He was cute, I thought. I liked the way he wore his almost blond, almost brown hair carefully messed up on purpose.
She was there, too, the dark haired lady from my grave. Right after my box arrived, she was beside me, lifting my bones out gently, treating me with care and respect.
I thought she looked sad but I'm sure I was mistaken. Why would she be sad for me, for someone she didn't know?
There were other people there, too, and I couldn't help but notice how she drew them to her. They stood beside her and around her and in front of her and when she spoke, they listened, and when she gave instructions, they obeyed. I looked around the room, at the light filled space, and I understood. She was the center, this beautiful blue-eyed woman who treated the dead with so much care. This was her world and now that I was in her world, I belonged to her.
It felt nice to belong to someone again. I felt reassured.
No, that's wrong. I felt safe.
Since she'd claimed me, I claimed her, too, because if I was part of her world then she was also part of mine.
Another woman, tall and thin and beautiful with a shining cap of black hair and deep dimples in her cheeks, spoke.
"I may be able to get usable DNA from the marrow. That could help identify her."
"The bones are stained from the minerals in the soil and there is no tissue remaining." My dark haired lady's voice was even and expressionless. "I estimate the body was placed there approximately three years ago."
I knew exactly how long I had lain beneath the dirt. I whispered the date of my last breath but the sound was lost in the space between the living and the dead. I like to speak out loud sometimes. Even if no one else can hear me, I want to hold on to the memory of a time when I had a voice.
A third woman appeared. She was pretty, too, with long dark hair and tilted eyes. She climbed the steps up to the platform where everyone stood around my bones and stopped beside a man with short, curly hair. He smiled at her and she smiled at him and I could see shimmering threads of gold connecting them.
It was fascinating.
Up on my hill, away from people, I had never seen that happen before. I looked around and for the first time, I noticed the faint halo that surrounded the living. Around some of them, the light was smooth as it swelled and contracted and trembled. Around others, though, wispy tendrils reached out, swaying and stretching before they faded away, like they were searching for someone.
For this couple, this exotic, pretty woman and the curly-haired man with the brilliant blue eyes, the light connected and formed a tightly woven braid. Where the strands touched, they pulsed even brighter. It was beautiful.
"Angela," my lady said, and so I knew the woman's name. "When the bones have been cleaned, I'd like you to make the facial reconstruction your priority. If we can get a face for her, we can give her a name."
She could give me a face? I focused on the woman named Angela with new interest.
Suddenly, she looked past my lady to the spot where I stood beside my bones. Her eyes swept to the left and right but then came back immediately to the center . . . to me . . . almost as if she could see me. I reached toward her with one hand. She swallowed and shivered and took a step back but her eyes never left the spot where I stood.
"Ange?"
She finally looked away, rubbing her hands over her arms as if she felt cold. I saw goosebumps under the dark honey of her skin.
"Of course," she said. "Whatever I can do."
Her eyes flickered toward me again before she hurried back down the steps. The threads that joined her with the curly-haired man followed after her, stretching and shimmering, floating on the air like dandelion seeds.
Everyone else continued to work, following the instructions of my dark-haired lady. As they spoke to each other, their names were revealed to me. She was Dr. Brennan and the woman with the dimples was Dr. Saroyan. The cute young man was Mr. Bray and the one with curly hair was Dr. Hodgins. I was surprised when he mentioned that all of the dirt from my grave would be arriving and that he would sift through it to find out more about me. What could they find in old dirt except bugs?
Dr. Brennan was looking at one of my bones when the light around her began to hum and expand and glow brighter. She looked over her shoulder as the handsome man from my grave climbed the steps and walked up beside her. Thick ribbons of energy pulsed between them, dancing and weaving together in a pattern that throbbed with color. Shards of blue and green and red circled them and surrounded them and through it all, sparks flashed like fireworks in the night.
Dr. Brennan frowned at him. "It is much too soon for me to be able to tell you anything useful, Booth."
Now I had a name for him, too. He didn't seem to care that she frowned. He just shrugged and put his hands in his pockets.
"I know, but I figured I could at least do my waiting here."
He was very handsome when he smiled and even though Dr. Brennan just rolled her eyes, I noticed the light around them pulse brighter. It made me happy, seeing those golden threads twinkle and dance between them. I could tell they belonged together.
And so I claimed him, too.
