III: Under the purple sky

《 ELIAN PHOENIX 》

“I still don't fucking get it.” I rolled on the beach, coating myself with the purple sand. Not that it mattered, because I could just blink my eyes and my clothes would be all crisp and clean. I sat up and fisted the sand, scowling at it as it spilled through my fingers, silky and cool to the touch.

Birdy let me have my melodramatic moment, crossing her ankles as she leaned back on the heels of her hands. She had tossed the cloak and was wearing a white cotton dress, which looked lilac under the purple sky.

I groaned and plopped back on my back. I had already found out that the sand at the beach never burned my toes and that the water was warm against my skin when I swam in it. The temperature was always just right, and the sun never blinded my eyes.

I could get popcorn, corn dogs, cotton candy, caramel apples and about a dozen more options by simply walking to a stall or blinking my eyes. I knew that every bite would be pure bliss and melt into my mouth. I could drink just as many sodas and slushes as I wished, never getting sick to my stomach.

Whatever I could think to wish for, I got. My every need was met with the best possible version of all the pleasures I had known in life. In other words, everything was perfect there.

Only I really fucking needed to get back to Aspen and our friends. He deserved to know it wasn't all his fault, and that there was indeed a way to cure Gold fever. Well, a way that went over my head, hence the melodramatic groaning and rolling in the sand.

“How can you be awake in both worlds if you're a lifeless blob of metal in the other?” I asked.

“It was definitely easier when you were still not ‘a lifeless blob of metal’ in one of those worlds.” Birdy made air quotes with her fingers while a half-amused, half-pained smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. Then she went on and explained, again, how it was supposed to work.

First, I needed to be awake in this purple version of the world. Being awake meant to know that I was only dreaming and to want to wake up on the real side. I needed to stay alert, because this place had its ways of lulling me into comfort. That was straightforward enough for my tiny brain, but the rest not so much.

Being awake in the real world, while not having any sort of actual awareness of being there, had to do with Aspen's magic ‘merging’ with mine through my golden body. Or something. I really have no idea how that's supposed to happen, when I can't even let Aspen know I'm still alive. Well, sort of alive.

“Okay, so.. I have three questions.” I sat up, lifting three fingers. I folded my forefinger as I stated: “One: does this place serve alcohol?”

I blinked, and as an answer, a glass of frozen margarita appeared in my free hand. That earned a shriek of laughter from Birdy, who followed my lead by blinking herself a glass of red wine. We clinked our glasses together, grinning because no situation was too dark and hopeless to have a little fun. Actually, coming to think of it, we needed these little playful moments to stay sane in this place.

“And, two: how do you know all this?” I queried, leaning in as if waiting for juicy gossip. “And don't tell me it's this place, that literally tells me nothing.”

“Well, it is this place.” Birdy insisted and then shrugged with a slight grimace as she took a look at my unimpressed face. “Sometimes it shows me flashes from the other side, but most of the time you just need to know where to look for clues.”

“And the clues are..?” I lifted my eyebrows. I was done with all these riddles and concepts too complex to crasp, and I was so not looking forward to finding more clues. I mean, come on, where does it end?

“For me they’re tarot cards and messages written at the corners of paintings, that sort of thing.” Birdy took a small sip from her glass.

“So, I should try to find things that are important to me on the other side?” I guessed. Birdy nodded, smiling proudly like I hadn't just guessed the first thing right after two entire days. She glimpsed up at the sky and sighed.

“Let's go for a walk.” Birdy suggested and, with a final sip from her wine, made the glass disappear with a blink. She stood up and patted her dress to shed the sand, more out of habit than actual necessity. I wasn't as willing to leave my drink behind, so I downed it in one go, and then I followed Birdy like the obedient son I never was.

We sauntered around the amusement park, our steps light, and took in the onslaught of neon lights and the music after the calm of the beach. With my hands stuffed in the pockets of my extremely comfortable white cotton pants, I pondered what would be my version of tarot cards and paintings.

The easy answer would have been music, but the loudspeakers still played that one Cigarettes After Sex song on repeat. The one I liked more than I would ever admit to Rain. But I missed music nowhere near as much as I missed the memories it brought back from my friends. Like teasing Rain about his endless love for his favorite band, and how the only sign he was annoyed by the teasing was the redness of his ears.

Just for a second or two, the music cut and warbled into something that sounded like: I'm turning, turning, turning, turning, turning around, and all that I can see is just another lemon tree.. Then it was back to the familiar tell me why you've been locked in here forever and you just can't say goodbye.

“Did you hear that?” I turned to ask Birdy, but she only shook her head. “The music. It changed. I thought about Rain and it changed.”

“Try it again.” Birdy gave my arm a slight nudge. When I glanced at her, she didn't look dubious, like she thought I was losing my marbles. Perhaps she knew I had lost them a long while ago, or things like that actually made sense in this place.

My heart grew so thankful to have Birdy there with me it was on the verge of hurting. Without her, I would still be lulled in the comfort of this place, forgetting all about the issues that needed solving on the other side.

And, like so often before, looking at Birdy reminded me of Najwa. It wasn't just their eyes or the shape of their noses, but the expressions they had. I missed Najwa, and it twisted my gut in knots to think how broken she must be to have lost both her mom and me.

The music warbled to something that sounded awfully a lot like Dolly Parton singing Jolene, Jolene, Jolene. Then, again, it was gone and replaced by when you're feeling alone, I'll reach for you. And I wondered what kind of clue that was supposed to be.

There were no lemon trees no matter how many times I spinned around on my heels, and I doubted saying Jolene three times in front of a mirror was going to magically make me wake from this never-ending purple dream.

“What am I supposed to gather from that?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. This place kept me from having headaches, but it sure as hell didn't keep me from getting frustrated.

Birdy opened her mouth to say something, but then her gaze landed on the horizon and as if on cue she started to glimmer on the edges. She sighed, pulled me into one last embrace and sighed: “Oh well, you know the rules.”

“Yeah yeah, sleep well in your comfy bed.” I muttered, and Birdy laughed, giving my shoulder a comforting pat. As the purple sun disappeared behind the horizon, my arms were empty.

It was another speciality this place had, another rule that made absolutely zero sense: Birdy could only stay at my amusement park until the sun came up or until the sun went down. So, she could either spend the day or the night with me, but not both of them in a row. I guess her being able to visit my amusement park was a miracle on its own, as I couldn't even see past the ocean or the amusement park.

“I don't fucking get this place.” I muttered to myself and slouched to the ferris wheel. I hopped into one of the carriages and curled up on its seat. It was hard, but not uncomfortable, since nothing ever was in here.

The air smelled like ocean and popcorn and all the things I used to love about this particular amusement park, but which I had started to associate with longing. The nights were the worst, when Birdy wasn't with me. Without her there to distract me, all I could think about was how I wanted to go back to the cabin and how lonely this place was without my friends and Aspen.

My mind wandered to Rio, and all the things I missed about them, but the music stayed the same. It hurt to think about Aspen, but I tried the trick with him as well. I made myself recall his half-dimpled smile, his green eyes, the expensive scent of his shampoo, the faded scar on his hand, everything. Again, no changes in the music.

“I want to go back.” I whispered, opening my mouth to a yawn so enormous my jaw popped. You'd think it's impossible to get sleepy inside a dream, but in this place I could fall into sleep so deep nothing short of an atomic bomb could wake me up. Just before I fell under, I whispered to no one in particular: “I want to go home.”