Smile from the Dead

I thought he was dead.  But there he was, right in front of me on the street. Smiling. An unforgettable smile that even thirty years later still immediately sent warm pins and needles through the layers of my skin.  His beautiful dark hair was the same immaculately manicured style.  But his face had aged.  Well composed wrinkles had settled into eyes and forehead. 

My heart began to pound with so much force I could feel every beat through my veins.  Was what I was seeing and hearing real?  It was.  But how? 

He saw the bewilderment in my eyes and body and began to approach me like you would a wild animal.   He held out his hand and said my name.  “Isla.”    I dropped the groceries I had pulled from my car just a few moments earlier and froze as he walked toward me.  

Thirty years earlier, I noticed something wasn’t right.  Sometimes Brian would come home with smells and lingering auras of ghosts.  I knew the ring on my finger was either fake or financed with dirty money.   But I ignored it all.  His smile drew me in and kept me with him.  His charm and respect for me, and all the other women around him, was out of a dream.  

But every once in a while, the look in his eyes painted a secret picture.  One I couldn’t see and wasn’t ever allowed in.   A short break in gaze at a far off sound, or dark longing look, told me there was more to his life then me and our tiny little Brooklyn apartment. More than us. He knew I noticed a secret lock behind his eyes.  I probably wasn’t part of his plan.  He wasn’t part of mine either.  

I was dancing on Broadway while he was working at his family's corner store. Brian came to my shows and always had first row seats.  How he found the money for them mystified me.  Even as a dancer with some perks and access to tickets, first rows were out of reach for me.  He’d never tell me how he got them.  “My family has some connections.  Don’t you worry about it.  You’re worth every penny.” he’d say with a little wink and glimmer of that dark lock lingering behind his eyes.  His family had connections?  His modest, Irish immigrant family had connections?   

It was the opening night of the newest play I’d been rehearsing for.  I expected like the many others before, to see him in the front row.  But he wasn’t there.  The surprise of not seeing him gazing up at the hurricane of our opening number made me lose my focus.  I stumbled before quickly finding my rhythm and exiting the stage.  I’m sure he was in the back. Maybe his family connection didn’t come through this time.  After all, this was a high profile opening night.  

After the rush of the opening night show, I gathered my things, still fully made up in hair and make up.  I hurried to our post-show meeting spot behind the theater.  No Brian.  A pang ran through my stomach and cut through the energy of a killer performance.  I felt a tap on my shoulder.  Excited to see Brian I turned around.  But it wasn’t him.  I felt a sharp sting to my temple and darkness closed in. 

When I woke, a throbbing pain shot through my head. My whole body was hot and sticky. I could feel blood caked to my temples. It was dark but I could feel movement. As my eyes adjusted, I realized Brian was sitting next to me tied to a chair. I started to panic and tried to reach for him but my limbs were tied and mouth taped. 

Brian turned, his eyes relieved to see I was awake. His beautiful hair was matted and fell over his ears. His face recognized the panic that I was emitting.  He mouthed the words, “I love you.” 

Two large figures appeared, grabbed Brian from the chair and led him out of the room, a gun jabbed into his back. Another man un-tied  me from the chair and led me out of the room down the opposite hall. I tried to look back but could only see the faint outline of Brian and his captors fade into the dark. 

I tried to scream for help but the tape stifled my attempts. My heart was pounding out of my chest and warm blood started dripping down my cheek. The man leading me away tightened his grip. Gunshots echoed through the abandoned building. 

Brian stood in front of me.  Where have you been all these years,  I thought.  I found my voice and words started to leave my mouth. “Brian?”  

“I know you're shocked to see me,” he said. You should be. I’m sorry for just showing up like this after all these years.  

“Brian, I thought you were dead!” My voice was harder than I expected.  “What I saw that day, you..I thought they were going to kill me too. You left me all these years thinking you were dead? 

Isla, I know. I had no choice. I know you knew I had another life. It was the only way I could save you from the dark world that was closing in around me. I never intended for you to walk into my life and I thought I could make it work. I loved you too much. We both would have been in the grave if I didn’t do what I did. 

“That day has haunted me all this time. Your family disappeared too. Why are you here?” I said. My voice started to find its confidence. 

Isla, I’m finally free from the dark world I once belonged to. But I can’t stay long. Come with me. 

Come with you? I thought. He smiled, and before I realized what I was saying I quietly said yes. Then I reached out to grasp his extended hand.