A Special Calling

 She just stood there, emotionless and figuratively invisible as people acted oblivious to her existence while carrying out their own agendas. Her small fists held out a bouquet of white lilies in an attempt to persuade passersby to purchase the multitude of flowers on her small display stand. Although the park was unusually busy Christian doubted she would even be able to conduct a single sale. The woman seemed to lack any charisma, any personality at all. Then why was he so fixated on her?

He had been studying her, perhaps even mesmerized by her mere presence since taking a seat on the bench. There was nothing particularly fascinating about her. Her black hair fell straight to her shoulders and a light blue dress hemmed with flowers hung loosely about her body. Her face seemed ragged, as if she had been crying and not getting enough sleep. Yet there was a familiarity about her as if she was calling out for him to come to her. For him to remember.

The flowers. Christian blinked and shifted his focus to the slew of vibrant colors decorating the woman’s simple wooden stand. A peculiar sensation washed over him and suddenly he knew the plants bore a significant purpose solely intended for him. The feeling was not malevolent nor was it benevolent, it just was. It simply existed.

The longer he sat staring at the flowers the more the world fell away. The sounds of children playing, squirrels chattering, and leaves rustling in the wind became nothing more than white noise. The suns warmth against his bare neck cooled, and the presence of those who momentarily blocked his view as they past by became as invisible as the flower woman was to them.

Christian was on his feet. When he had stood he could not be certain. He only knew it was the flowers. They had compelled him to stand, urged him to come, and come he did. He took his first step and Christian thought he saw the woman smile. Did she notice he was coming to her? Was she merely anticipating a sale? Christian decided none of that mattered. He just had to reach the flowers, then he would see just how foolish he was. Then he would see nothing more than a simple woman trying to make a living. A woman who was nothing more than someone who worked, who thrived to live independently rather than on handouts.

The woman’s eyes locked onto his and for the first time he noticed how the sun highlighted the light green of her pupils. For the first time he no longer saw her as ordinary but saw her beauty. There was also the familiarity which had called out to him earlier but now screamed at him to run to her. To abandon all else and dedicate himself only to her.

Christian’s breath caught in his throat as uncertainty seeped in and fear threatened to encompass him. He paused, frozen on the concrete pathway cutting through the park. Emotions battled within wanting to him to both flee and continue onward. The woman’s eyes widened and worry etched across her face. Christian’s jaw clenched and he berated himself for the ridiculousness of his thoughts, of what he imagined seeing. People continued to walk around him completely ignorant of what was currently tearing through him. For everyone else it was an average day at the park. For Christian it was something else entirely, he only wished he knew what.

The woman licked her lips and Christian exhaled as he forced his way forward. He thought of the laugh he would have over having fretted about flowers and a strange woman beckoning him from a park bench. He would be alone with a glass of scotch but he would laugh, and he would be thankful he was the only witness to his absurdity.

Regardless the worry from the woman melted and her smile returned when Christian began to walk to her once more. Christian held onto the feeling that it was nothing more than a potential sale to her and steeled his will against all other thoughts. Instead he just focused on the possibility that a flower, given to the correct bartender, may warrant him a more generous pour.

Christian stopped before the woman and she looked up at him. Her green eyes held a certain charm if not an entrancement over his entire being. Doubt fought to penetrate the barriers he had erected in his mind but he forced the feeling back down, deep into his subconscious. He would simply purchase a flower then politely excuse himself. Nothing more, nothing less.

“How much?” Christian grimaced at the uncertainty of his voice.

She reached up and lightly brushed his cheek. “They are all for you my love. I just need you to come back to me.”

Christian stumbled back from her, unable to comprehend why a stranger would say that to him, let alone give him the barrage of feelings that had been raging within him since he had first laid eyes on her and her flowers.

Tears now flowed freely cutting paths down her cheeks. “Please Christian. Come back to me. Come back to us.”

Christian continued to back away, shaking his head, struggling to breathe. This was more than just a woman who evidently possessed unwarranted feelings towards him. This was more than a batch of seemingly innocent flowers emitting an unrelenting force pulling at him, tempting him with the unknown.

Christian turned from her but all he saw was darkness. The park, the people, the frolicking children, even the bench he had rested on were gone. Instead an ominous black void surrounded him.

“Christian.”

It was her voice. The flower woman yet called to him. He turned back to her but she too was gone, along with her flowers. Christian attempted to answer her but could only sob. She had never intended him harm, she was not a crazy fanatic but only wanted to help him. Somehow she knew the void was coming, it was the only logical answer Christian could think of. But his fear, his condescension had proven to be his ruin.

“No,” Christian screamed into the nothingness. “I will not relent. I will not give in.”

Christian forced himself to calm and listened intently for her voice. Moments passed with nothing and his concern continued to mount. Was he really lost?

“Christian,” her voice called out once more.

He gauged the direction of her voice and ran. It was impossible for him to accurately determine her location but he had to risk it, he had to be right. The consequences otherwise were to inconceivable to entertain.

Then came the smell. The aroma hit him so suddenly Christian skidded to a halt. It was the flowers. Had he smelled them earlier? Had he really felt anything at all? He shook aside the questions, he could afford no distractions. Instead he continued to run.

The distinctive scent of the flowers grew stronger. Sounds of her crying and calling out to him became more evident. Christian felt his excitement grow, he would escape this hell, he would remain true to his own words. He would not surrender, he would not relent.

Then he saw it, a pinpoint of light, a beacon of potential hope. The harder he ran the larger the light became. He could now identify the smell of each particular breed of flower. From lilies to daisies he could identify them all. It was as if he had been around flowers his entire life, as if he grew and nurtured them.

“Christian,” the woman’s voice called to him once again only clearer.

He was now upon the light and he reached for it. With a strained yell he stretched and disregarded all sense of well-being by throwing himself into the light.

It was dark but Christian sensed he was no longer trapped within the void. There was a steady beeping sound, a muffled conversation between two people, and he could smell the flowers. He opened his eyes and was met with a light so brilliant, so painful he was force to squeeze his eyes shut. He tried once more but more cautiously, and the blinding light slowly dimmed while the world around him methodically came into focus. He found himself in a room laid out on a bed. He was surrounded by seemingly hundreds of flowers not much different than the flowers he had saw...Christian suddenly struggled to picture the flowers he thought he had remembered. He decided that did not matter, after-all he was a florist so he could have been picturing any number of flowers.

“Christian,” a woman called out in excitement. “You are awake.”

Christian turned his head towards his wife. She ran to him wearing his favorite light blue dress hemmed with flowers. As she bent to kiss him her black hair cascaded from her shoulders and hung down tickling his bare neck.

“Kiera,” Christian said after she pulled back and looked at him, her green eyes brimmed with tears. “Had you any doubt?”