Niko’s Eye

Chapter 51.

Isis.

I can’t be in this house with my best friend and my grandmother, and not be talking to them. What have I turned into?

Not everything that causes offence is an offence. To make choices we look at the real world consequences to life, happiness and health - then we decide what the measured and reasonable response should be. Generally, we expect them to have some kind of proportionality. A small offence should never be met with an egregious and terrible punishment. What is begun by the pen should be settled by the pen; we should seek honest deescalation of disagreement toward peace. And by this way, when we all agree to act as evolved and rational people, there comes room for compromise and an atmosphere of grace rather than umbrage or rancour. It is always, as I believe one of the greatest of men said, better to make an error in forgiveness than retaliation.

Isis got up from her bed and walked into her grandmother’s room.

"Mami, you asleep?"

Her grandmother peered at her from underneath her thick frames. It kind of reminded her of herself.

She giggled inside.

Throwing herself onto her grandmother’s bed, they both looked at each other and burst out in laughter.

"I’m sorry Mami. I jus.."

Her grandmother pulled her into her arms, hushing her.

"I know birdie. Behind every excuse is a reason, and so, if you love someone, its worth seeing them through the lens of empathy and figuring out how best to soothe their soul. And, asult responsibility requires a sense of perspective and proportion to events in the current moment, for his role is as much about emotional anchoring as choices. However, it is vital that an ability to listen and act when required is retained and honed, for anchors must be raised when the ship needs to sail to better waters. I love you, and I understand."

After formalities, they reminisced and spoke about their past lives. They laughed and made fun of the days when Isis was obliged to be changing outfits and personalities.

"Now you can be yourself, embrace it and stop worrying all the time."

They were so deep in conversation that they didn’t hear Zainab walk into the room.

"My bitch." Zainab whispered.

Isis looked up at her, opening her arms widely.

"I’m so sorry. Come here Zee."

They hugged and kissed each other like they were lovers.

"Are you two lesbians?" Belvia asked jokingly.

They all cracked up and stayed up a few more hours to gossip, until Isis started dozing off as she laid in Zainab’s lap.

There was a knock at Belvia’s door.

"It’s me Mami, I’m looking for Isis. I need to talk to her."

"Come in," replied Belvia, unhesitatingly.

Isis stirred, picking up a few words from the conversational tones.

"I’ll take her to bed."

She felt herself being whipped up into the air and moments later, being laid to bed.

Then all of a sudden, she felt Alejandro sliding in next to her and snaking his arms around her waist.

"I love you," he whispered.

She lay still, thinking about him, and what could be on his mind.

Maybe he wants to talk? I mean he always listens to me when I got to vent. He listens as if my words are golden, perhaps some elixir he’s been waiting all his days to hear. From what he says next I can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that’s several moves ahead of what I am capable of. And in his words are a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for him, it is natural. This attentiveness is apart of who he is and that is, if I’m honest, the most attractive feature I’ve seen in a man for quite some time. And as the hours go by it becomes the best conversation I’ve ever had too, it flows, with listening and intelligent responses. I guess that’s what happens when two loving people meet and connect.

"Wanna talk?" She whispers.

Alejandro.

Our conversation is so much more than words. It is the smiles, the gentle shrugs and the light in our eyes. That we are both elevated by each other’s presence is obvious and even the silences are comfortable. They are moments to savour the company of the other and feel that sense of peace that comes from feeling loved and protected, within the arms of friendship and love.

He smiled to himself as he breathed in the smell of Isis’ hair and the scent of her body.

Alejandro wasn’t hard, yet. So he tried his best to just shut his eyes and sleep.

But her warmth was adding onto his own heat.

He decided to revert back to the discussion that he has to have with Isis.

I love talking to Isis, she’s more like me than anyone I know, and she does not think inside similar walls to everyone else. I love that she’s that person who jumps right out of the idea "box" that is our "faux-culture" and imagines it totally different. I can’t run my brain in nihilistic thought patterns, I need freedom to move in any direction in search of real solutions and Isis understands that. In the eons of history a couple of hundred years of society is a blip, nothing more, and we don’t have much culture left anymore anyway. But Isis and I have the same powerful brains as the ancient Greeks but we let them rot with junk. Every conversation I ever have revolves around the topics of the day - fear, terrorism, money, petty disagreements - no-one ever focuses on the real puzzles of our age. I want to talk to someone who knows our intellectual walls are artificial, I want to converse with someone who can see the cages of the mind like I can, hence she’s perfect. But I guess that’s the point of talking, to get what’s in your head out there, to start new lines of thought and hope they ripple out into our collective "pond." I want to have a conversation where I feel invigorated afterwards instead of disturbed by the lack of mental flexibility people have. If the brain is like a computer, then the way our minds work is an operating system built by family and environment. My operating system is very different to everyone else. I want to talk philosophy, I want to explore brand new concepts and new blends of old ones. I want to be optimistic about the human mind and soul, optimistic about the future of the earth. How can I have conversations about hair styles, nail jobs and foreign vacations? How can they be anything compared to the simple beauty of a tree? That is why this woman right here, is heaven sent.

Alejandro gets sent out of his head as he heard Isis ask him if he wants to talk.

"I thought you were asleep?"

Isis stretched over to light her bedside lamp, before turning over to face Alejandro.

He smiled as he watched her settle.

"You know I’ve been honest with you for the most time that I can remember. Yes, I wasn’t always honest with you but ever since you got out of that coma, it’s like, I too, was given a new brain and a new life. That’s why I can’t keep anything from you."

Isis hummed. "Mmmh."

"Your mom called me from prison. She said she would denounce my crimes if I didn’t help her escape from prison. I was thinking about turning myself in."

Isis sat up, eyes about to pop out of her head.

"You can’t do that. I’m not ready to lose you. I mean, just when I started to make peace with your past life, now I gotta, now that everyone, I mean, why me,"

Isis began to cry.

Something inside of him had changed. Something had shifted. He felt that a new dawn had come. He stared at her, with love and compassion.

"I tried not to ask questions my heart could not be able to hear the answers to, even if my logical brain could comprehend it with ease. There is a kind of honesty that is selfless and a kind that is selfish. I guess you had to ask yourself if it was more loving to keep the secret or to tell it. I think it was more loving of you. I love you Alex. I’ve lost everyone else. You’ve given me life. I can’t let you turn yourself in. You can call me a hypocrite. Yes, of course I’m a hypocrite, but then there are two of me. There’s my subconscious mind with its high ideals and my conscious that just wants to ensure the survival of me and you. So yes, I want to fight global warming and I drive a car, I want animal rights and I buy meat, I abhor slave labor and I wear clothes. I pity those who aren’t hypocrites, because all they hear is the screaming of their conscious minds day and night, survive, eat, fear, danger. They have no range of morals to be hypocritical about. We can’t save the whole world, the same way we can’t keep putting our heads on the chopping board just because we decided to be good people. You prayed to your God, he forgave you. Forgive yourself, and let it go. I don’t think they’d find any evidence, right?"

Alejandro slowly shook his head, shocked by Isis’ response.

As he watched her rant on, he couldn’t control the next thing that came out of his mouth.

"Isis, marry me."