are you scared of the dark
are you scared of the light
are you scared of knowing the wrong from the right
A hand came over my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder. And there she was. Kelly. No. The girl I had always dreamed of, standing right behind me. She struck these notes on the piano: it knocked me out of my reverie.
She took my hand. She said,
“Here, you play.”
I said, “Who are you?”
She smiled. “I’m Isabelle! Duh!”
“Who am I?”
“Well that’s a silly question, don’t ya think? Shouldn’t you know that already? I think you go by”
“Ishmael.”
“Well, if you say so. Come on, uh, Ishmael, let’s go up outside. I think I heard the bluebirds calling!”
“We don’t have bluebirds.”
“OK, then maybe they’re magenta. You know, you’re awfully queer for a fellow who just sits up in his room all day studying—”
“How did you know?”
“I saw you through my bedroom window!”
“You mean you’ve been stalking me?”
“Of course, not, silly! Don’t you know the whole world’s my rainbow? I always see you standing underneath the maple trees, talking and talking and talking and talking on and on about how they’re just so green.”
“You mean you actually heard me?”
“Everybody hears you. Now don’t get a big head or something! Everyone hears you. All that means is you tend to talk pretty loudly!”
“But I don’t get it. I don’t!”
“Well, actually you do.” Isabelle grinned. “If we’re talking about your diary.”
“Give it here!”
“Let’s see here…I see something about Kelly, oo, what does this say? ‘It feels like the harp of my heart is being unstrung completely. There’s an empty gulf in my body beneath my heart, and my heart is just a claw that radiates out and pulls everything into anguish, the bridge that holds it all together, taut to the point of breaking.’ You really loved her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well, you know what? I think you can do better.”
“With who?”
“With you. Now, don’t start taking yourself too seriously, but you could really use a brush-up. I think the first thing we should do is take you into the powder room and try on some masks. If none of them fit you—well we can’t beat that! 🙂 I personally like when the sun is shining, and it’s pouring down rain, and we can’t but help but STRETCH up to the highest lemon tree and pour ourselves a glass of pink lemonade—”
“What are you, Isabelle?”
“Well, I’m your saint.” 🙂 She smiled. “I always wanted to be a saint. I read about it all in the history books—
“Which ones were you reading?”
“I think the same ones you were! If you want we can head to the library and sprawl them all out on the floor.”
“But won’t the librarian hear us?”
“She will—but not once we’ve started on our adventure.”
“Our adventure? To where?”
“Who knows where? But I was thinking, I don’t know, it would be really cool if we went one place in particular”
“You don’t mean?”
“Yup. I do I was thinking of going to the Middle East.”
“Oh.”
“And after that I was thinking of going to India.”
“Oh.”
“And after that I was thinking of going to Serendip.”
“Oh!”
“I thought you’d say that. You’re pretty predictable, you know? If you know what I mean.”
“I’m trying to change that.”
“I know. That’s why you want to save the elephants.”
“How did you know that?”
“Uh…you’re diary, bozo. :)”
“But I didn’t write that!”
“But you knew that. Didn’t you.”
“I really didn’t.”
“You don’t have to be a master craftsman to comprehend that.”
Pause.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know! I just felt like saying that! 😛 It doesn’t mean anything! But you know what does? World peace. Now, if you don’t mind, I think we should better get going.”
“Where are we going?”
“To Serendipity, silly! 🙂 Now, where’s your pen.”
“I’m worried i’m going to run out of ink.”
“We’ve got to take some chances, silly! Where’s that letter you started to write to Peter Heller? He’s my favorite author.”
“He’s my favorite author too!”
“Hey, you guys—can you get a room?” the librarian shouted.
“What room should we take?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should try riding writing by the lake.”
“Why did you cross that out?”
“It’s not correct.”
“What would you think about writing by the lake?”
“That’s exactly what I said!”
“I mean we don’t need to take our paper. We don’t even need our pen. Maybe, after we ride by the lake, we can find our words then.”
“Now I get it!”
“This is good! Now let me get my diary”
“You have a diary too?”
“And we can combine them!”
“Hey, let me see yours?”
“Maybe someday.” Isabelle smiled, but in a strange way. “But hey—we better start working. This diary won’t write itself.”
“Agreed.” 🙂
“What would you think if we started out by saying
Austin Diamond 