Let Us Count Seventeen Stars Till They Die : Part Two

Friday.

… : “Once upon a specific time, the 11th hour of 19th June, 1978. You died.”

I know you’re eager to know, who died? And when I tell you you will then ask, how did he or she die? And in that chronological order.

But McOwen told me not. I was tempted to correct Owen. I had not taken any breaths in 1978, so how did I die? But I let him go on.

So he continued: “This was how you died.”

“Even when you stopped, you fought to proceed and carry on. I was in the crowd that day. It was minutes to the 11th hour and I couldn’t find your demons. I could tell you couldn’t find them too. Your eyes scanned in scatter through the crowd. Your fingers trembled even from the distance. But I couldn’t sense your fear.

But still, where were your demons?”

I know I was not alive in that time, just as I know the taste of water as it rests on my tongue. But even waters take different tastes. I was yearning to know how I did die. But what point is there in playing hard to get? So I gave in, satisfying my curiosity, I let Owen continue.

“Still in the crowd, I was in search of your demons. Eager to see which of your famous smiles you would let out.

Fearful or non receptive?

Wide grinned or wide eyed?

If your demons didn’t rip the cloak of our reality I would never see your smile again.

And so your neck turned and your eyes continued in a ‘searchful’ sojourn. I could tell you ached for blinking eyes rather than shut eyes.

At the corner of my mind, I could hear them. Your demons. Seconds to the 11th hour.

I saw you see them in the crowd, chanting words that flew into and with the crowd.

“Behind the crowd, I saw a paramedic. It was as though during my yearning and your longing, the world ceased to exist. It was as though the chants of your demons caused reality to slap reality.

And so, I could see a paramedic, sprinting with a speed that made my insides ache. The defibrillator in his hand, in its own race, competing with the chants in the wind.

And so, mimicking the gesture of an open mind and an open palm, you opened your heart to the chants.

gods of the people of Nazca, oro te, ut ignoscas in manu quorum unius amplexus atque oscula nostra tactus Midae…

Your fingers trembled.

I knew that if the defibrillator caressed your heart before the chants did, you would have practised smiles for nothing, would have practised even fake smiles for no one.To your right, I heard and saw your chants.

…oro deum ut

And then I knew, they wanted you as much as I did.

This longing, a mutual feeling, a mutual spark.

I felt that spark, electrocute our fingers. The touch of the chants swam through your blood streams as it swam through mine.

Incomprehensible was that moment. I had never heard of a Midas Touch as such. Experiencing it, a blessing.

It spread joyfully through and within my person. And as it finally came to rest on my feet that was when I saw the electrodes pass from the defibrillator to you.

And so you woke up.

But I knew you had died.

I knew I had died.

We were now both a fusion of ourselves.

Your demons were the best angels to have ever come visiting.”

…end of part two.