Soul Mate

Alena looks over the railing at the waves crashing against the rocks. It’s two hundred feet down to the Pacific Ocean from where she’s standing on the Point Dume cliffs.

That should do the trick.

She grabs her stomach as a wave of pain passes through her.

She thinks about Jared and the day they met…

***

Alena sneaks a peek at the man standing next to her. He has the slim build, furrowed brow, and crop-top haircut of an intelligent, yet somewhat shy man.

Jared Brush glances at the woman wearing the Oakland A’s cap next to him. Fair-haired, with buoyant blue eyes, she tries to hide her stellar figure beneath casual clothes. He imagines she’s quick-witted and has an affinity for the arts.

Jared tries to be witty and charming but ends up sounding nerdy.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?”

“Stunning. It reminds me of the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland.”

“You’ve been there?” he asks.

“Yeah. But my favorite view is Pulpit Rock in Norway. It has a beautiful view of the surrounding mountains and the Lyse Fjord.”

“Jeez. I’ve never even seen the Grand Canyon. I’m Jared. I’m a physicist.”

Alena gives him a look of mock contempt.

“So, what do you do for a living?” he asks.

“I’m a painter.”

Jared rolls his eyes. “You must be starving.”

“How do you know, buster? Maybe I’m really good.”

“No doubt,” Jared says defensively. “I meant it’s a hard, competitive field.”

“I make copies of classic paintings. It’s not very creative, but it pays the bills. I work on my creations in my spare time.”

A silence passes between them as they look admiringly at the rugged coastline.

“So, what’s a physicist doing up here?”

“I admire the cliff's symmetry and the power of the waves crashing against it.”

“I just like the view,” Alena replies.

The pair part ways, simultaneously turning to smile and take a last look at each other.

As Jared gets into his car, he realizes he doesn't know the painter’s name.

***

Jared checks the address of the invitation he received in the mail for Mantan Moore’s “Icarus” exhibition. It's addressed to the previous tenant of his apartment, but “Soul Mate,” the avant-garde painting on the invitation, captivated him, which is odd because, up to this point in his life, Jared’s interest in fine art hadn’t risen above pictures of dogs sitting around a table playing cards.

Touring Moore’s Icarus exhibition, Alena becomes fixated by “Soul Mate,” which depicts a bride and groom jumping off a cliff. She notes that the painting is for sale.

Jared wanders through the gallery until he finds “Soul Mate.” He’s oblivious to Alena standing next to him.

“Are you following me?” she asks.

“What? Oh, it’s you again.”

“It makes sense for me to be here, I’ve studied Monet, taken classes at Bard College, but I bet you’re a subscriber to Physics Forum Magazine.”

“Guilty,” Jared replies. “I’ll admit I barely know an easel from an aisle, but I’m really attracted to this painting. You know what’s even stranger? That we’ve run into each other two days in a row. Do you think fate is trying to tell us something?”

“No. I think the message here is you can take a flying leap if you think you’re walking out of here with this painting.”

“I tell you what…”

“Alena.”

“Alena…I know a way we can both enjoy the painting,” Jared says. “We split the cost. Then I get “Soul Mate” for six months, then you can have it for the rest of the year.”

Alena twists her mouth into a mock frown.

“Why do you get it first?”

“I came up with the idea… Okay, ladies first. Shake?” he asks, offering his hand.

Alena takes his hand, immediately feeling a pleasant, warm sensation passing through their bodies.

They continue to hold hands, giggling at the tingling sensation traveling between them.

“Maybe we can hang the picture in our house,” Jared says.

***

The shared custody of “Soul Mate” keeps Jared and Alena in each other's lives. Alena spruces up Jared’s utilitarian apartment with artwork, pottery, and art deco furniture, while Jared gets Alena interested in astronomy, gardening, and board games. They find they share a common interest in music. Jared is surprised to learn that “Air on the G String from Bach’s Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D Major” is known by rock fans as Procol Harum’s “Whiter Shade of Pale,” and Alena is amazed to discover that the Beatles “Because” is Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” played backwards.

They may finish each other’s sentences and share wordless looks that speak volumes. But most noticeably, the electric, magnetic, and intoxicating feeling they get when they touch one another grows.

“It’s called intense chemistry,” Jared says of their attraction.

“Spoken like a true science geek,” Alena replies, holding him. “Some things are better off just being rather than being explained.”

Six months after meeting at Point Dume cliffs, Jared and Alena buy a house together. The house is a short distance from the cliffs.

Over the next five years, Alena paints the walls inside the house to reflect the many happy moments in their life together.

The centerpiece in their living room is Mantan Moore’s “Soul Mate.”

At Alena’s urging, Jared pursues a newfound interest in film. Thinking he’ll become a fan of silent and classic movies, Alena is surprised that Jared becomes an amateur filmmaker. She becomes his favorite subject, as he films nearly every aspect of her life.

***

Alena remembers the boyish look in Jared’s eyes when he captured her on film blowing out the candles on her thirtieth birthday cake.

Climbing on top of the railing, she closes her eyes and jumps, feeling the warmth of the summer air as she falls.

***

Jared looks down at the rude stitches across Alena’s body, barely able to contain his tears.

Berry Underwood, Santa Monica’s coroner, has seen this reaction a hundred times before and avoids becoming emotionally invested in delivering bad news to loved ones.

“She was a brave woman. She had to have been in a lot of pain,” he says softly. “She had cancer. Her body was riddled with it.”

“But she was still so energetic, so beautiful,” Jared moans.

“She tried to keep her condition from you, to spare your feelings. She probably used a lot of pain medication, and maybe more makeup than usual, hoping you wouldn’t notice. But the pain became too much for her to bear.”

***

Dave Faberge winks at the Matre’d, emphasizing his request for a table away from the other customers by slipping him a fifty-dollar bill.

Jared collapses in his chair. Dave gently pats him on the back, signaling the waiter for their usual round of drinks.

A successful jeweler with a cutting wit and a well-groomed appearance, Dave has been Jared’s best friend for eight years, and with Alena’s help, pushed the shy physicist into becoming more socially active. It was Dave who’d convinced Jared to play for the Jewels, a softball team he sponsored that became champions when Jared took over in left field.

“I’m not surprised she kept her illness from you,” Dave says. “You know how sensitive you are. You would have fussed and worried yourself into having a heart attack.”

“But this was like keeping the atomic bomb a secret,” Jared laments.

“Hey, nobody knew about the bomb until it went off.”

“Why not take a few pills and quietly drift off? Why jump from the spot where we met?”

“It’s where your life together began. It’s where she wanted it to end.”

Jared tilts back his gin and tonic.

“Easy, cowboy. You don’t want folks here thinking you’re a lush.”

Struck by an idea, Jared’s temperament brightens. “I’m going to keep her memory alive, Dave.”

“Are you going to take up painting?”

“No. I’m going to bring her back to me.”

Dave gives Jared a slanted stare. “Please don’t get one of those anatomical sex dolls.”

“Even better. I’m going to turn her into a hologram. She won’t suffer, won’t get sick, and best of all, won’t die again.”

***

Jared looks at the dozens of hours of footage he has of Alena. He separates the clips by location or event, such as “Alena’s Thirtieth Birthday,” “Gordon Lightfoot Concert,” or “Fiske Gallery Celebration for Alena’s Paintings.” Splicing the footage together, he imbues the hologram with Alena’s personality and memories. He connects the hologram’s program to a computer, which will project her image onto a large screen.

Jared taps his activation code on the keyboard, praying his ambitious attempt to reconnect with his wife will work.

Alena’s image appears. It looks around the room in wonderment, then at Jared.

“Do you know where you are?” he asks.

“Home.”

“Do you know who you are?”

“Pieces.”

“No. You’re Alena Brush.”

Alena’s pleasant features gather together in a frown.

“I’m pieces. Memories. A receptacle. A video of you proposing … A Sunday walk in the botanical gardens… A vacation to India…”

“You’re more than that. When you died, the whole world changed. I didn’t care about my work, gourmet dinners tasted like trash, and the view at the Point Dume cliffs was always dark and rainy. We’re connected. One can’t exist without the other. You’re my life.”

Alena looks at him skeptically.

“Prove it.”

“Think about the Rink at Rockefeller Center in New York.”

Alena’s eyes widen. “…Yes, I remember...”

***

Alena was invited to show some of her paintings at the Greene Gallery in New York City. Jared took the trip cross-country with her for a Christmas vacation.

Jared reserved the Rink at Rockefeller Center, spending $2,000 to have the ice to themselves for five minutes so that he could ask her to marry him under the center’s towering Norway spruce.

The Beach Boys’ “Only With You” played on the speakers in the background as Jared swirled Alena around on her skates.

When the singer reached the words, “I know one thing for sure, I wanna do, I wanna spend this life with you…Only with you,” Jared dropped to one knee.

“Will you…”

“YES!”

The other skaters waiting to get back on the ice were so touched by the sight that they gave the couple a standing ovation.

***

Over the next month, Jared helps Alena’s hologram regain her personality. Alena is polite and positive. But it’s too much like interacting with a tape recorder or a soda machine. Her attempts at humor seem forced. Her warmth and spontaneity are missing. The hologram can’t give an opinion or say something Alena hasn’t already said. And she can’t leave the confines of the screen. They can’t walk to Point Dume cliffs, hold hands, or build new memories. She only exists inside the screen.

Jared comes home from the dentist one afternoon, anxious to interact with Alena’s visual memories. He absentmindedly pushes open the front door, sticking out his arm in anticipation of it bouncing back, just like it always does. His hand goes through the glass, shattering it. Shouting in pain, he picks the pieces of glass out of his hand. Administering slapdash first aid to his hand, he’s still bleeding when he touches the computer keyboard.

He brings up Alena’s image.

“Clumsy.”

He looks at the screen. Alena smiles, blinking.

She’s never blinked before.

“You’re bleeding, Jared.”

He looks down at his finger. A few drops of blood have gathered at the tip of his forefinger.

“You’re different. More like Alena. But how?” he asks.

“Your blood has given me life.”

“But that’s impossible,” Jared mutters.

Alena smiles modestly, blinking.

“It really is you, isn’t it?”

Alena begins to fade like the picture on a television set struggling with bad reception.

“No! You can’t leave me now that I’ve got you back!”

Alena’s voice turns into a beleaguered whisper. “…Touch the keyboard… Hurry…”

Jared puts both hands on the keyboard.

The blood from his cut finger seeps into the spaces between the keys.

Tilting her head back, Alena lets out a satiated moan.

Her body becomes whole again.

“Are you alright?”

“As long as your blood joins us together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me how sick you were?” Jared asks.

“Because there was nothing you could do. I forgot how ingenious you could be. I didn’t count on being able to return from the dead. But you’ve found a way for us to be together again.”

Being with the enhanced hologram is soon like being with the real Alena. Jared spends every waking moment with her.

***

Jared turns on the computer, tapping in the code that summons Alena.

“…Paris…”

A video of Alena standing in the square in front of the Eiffel Tower plays. In the next video, she’s nibbling at a croissant, giggling cheerfully as Jared’s voice speaks off camera to her in fractured French.

“Newport,” Jared says, and the screen shifts to Alena leading him through a tour of the Breakers Mansion.

Dave nods approvingly. “Nice montage. You’ll always have part of her on film.”

“It’s more than that,” Jared returns. “I can talk to her… Present day, Alena.”

Alena appears on the screen.

“She’s as pretty as ever,” Dave comments. “Too bad she can’t talk.”

“She can! Say hello to Dave, Alena.”

Alena’s image stares blankly at them.

“She speaks to me, Dave, I swear it.”

“Sure, and I can turn coal into diamonds. Don’t worry, Jared. I still think you’re a cool mad scientist.”

“I’m a physicist,” Jared says dejectedly.

“Fine. I have to go. Your project can stare at me some other time. I’ve got a shipment of diamonds coming in from South Africa that’ll light up a starless night.”

Dave pats Jared on the back, chuckling. “Let me know when you get her working right. I’m sure some of the guys on the softball team will think she’s a hoot.”

***

Alena blinks, giving Jared a winsome smile.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I can’t speak to anyone but you. Besides, do you think it’s smart to show the world what you’ve done when you don’t fully understand it yourself?”

“You’re right. You’re always right.”

***

Jared’s blood drips onto the computer’s keyboard. He staggers, feeling faint, gathering his strength when Alena’s hologram solidifies.

“You’re weak. Maybe we should stop…”

“NO! I need you, Alena. I want to share this discovery with the world, but the reason I’m doing this is to be with you… Can I touch you?”

“It’s dangerous. The process will drain you... Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Jared reaches for the screen.

Alena’s hand touches his. He feels a warm rush pass through his body. It intensifies until he feels as if the blood in his veins is on fire.

“It’s not sex,” Alena says.

“IT’S BETTER!”

***

“…Paris…,” Jared says.

“It’s only been a few hours. You should get more rest.. Touching me is hurting you.”

“I’d endure any pain to be with you.”

“That’s what I used to think,” Alena replies.

Her image on the screen is replaced by a video of her standing in front of the Eiffel Tower…

***

Despite being a well-seasoned world traveler, Alena has never visited France. For their fifth and unbeknownst to them, their last wedding anniversary, Jared makes it happen.

The streets and metros are grimy and smell bad. Dog owners neglect to clean up after their pets. Rats the size of Chihuahuas run free.

None of that matters when Alena enters the Louvre.

“It’s like meeting Henry Cavill, Brad Pitt, and David Beckham the same day!” Alena exclaims.

“I hope you don’t plan to leave me for one of those guys.”

Alena jumps with glee. “I got to see the Venus freaking de Milo! I’ll never leave you!”

***

Jared sniffles, wiping tears from his eyes. He rubs his nose, noticing the side of his finger is red.

It’s his second nosebleed in as many days.

***

Dr. Herman Rickover studies Jared’s test results. He lets out a concerned “Hmmmm” that fails to lift Jared’s spirits.

“Persistent fatigue, recurring nosebleeds, excessive sweating. I’m not going to mix words, Jared. You’ve got Leukemia. It’s in your bone marrow and in your blood. Your white blood cell count is dangerously high. I don’t understand how we didn’t see it during your last physical.”

“How long do I have?”

“Maybe three months.”

***

Jared smears his blood on the computer keyboard. Alena appears.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Thanks to you. Did you know you can eat anything you want here and not gain a pound?”

“Where are you?” Jared asks.

“Anywhere my mind takes me. Remember seeing James Taylor in concert at the L.A. Forum? I relived it again yesterday. I was at the Tower of London this morning.”

“Sounds nice. Maybe we can go there together.”

Alena squints, studying his weary expression.

“Is something wrong, Jared?”

“I wanted us to be together. You warned me there might be a cost. Your cancer, it’s inside of me now.”

“Then stop. Let me go. Save yourself,” Alena says gently.

“I can’t lose you again. Remember, no matter what happens, that I love you.”

Jared begins shutting down the computer.

“Wait, Jared! What are you going to do?”

***

Jared looks over the railing at the waves lapping against the rocks. Closing his eyes, he feels Alena’s soft lips against his and hears her sunny giggle.

He balances himself on the railing, whispering Alena’s name as he falls.

***

Dave pauses to look at Mantan Moore’s “Soul Mate” painting in Jared’s living room. Looking around the house at the images Alena painted on the wall, Dave understands why Jared missed her so much and would choose to kill himself.

Exhaling heavily, Dave walks into Jared’s office, turning on his computer. A clip begins to run of Jared and Alena looking out at the horizon from the Point Dume cliffs. They walk away from the camera hand in hand. Laughing, they turn, waving goodbye.