Niko’s Eye

Chapter 47.

Aisha.

Aisha had decided that she was going to surprise her mother with her unexpected visit into the house, guns blazing, only to find that her mother was nowhere to be found. And to her surprise, she had actually flown back to Barbados.

While Aisha was snooping around in the house that she had grown up in, she found some evidence. A card, with Alejandro Xylon Dominic’s contacts, and a copy of a plane ticket.

Alejandro was an old acquaintance to her, somebody she had used as a scapegoat, but still had a bit of leverage over because she knew his other dealings besides the shady happenings at the mine.

Murder.

But she wondered what her mother would want with Alejandro, and how she came about knowing him.

That is the biggest mind-f**k. Is Belvia ahead of me in this game or what? Anyways, I have a plan. But, being single was the biggest challenge. I’d never been alone before. Yet it was made all the harder for the circumstances and the enforced solitude by those who felt so fit to be my judge and jury. I have nobody to use as a pawn or a scapegoat. Anyways. Now, I hold my head high as a strong woman who has survived trauma and came out the other side a stronger and religious person who loves herself, but not others. And I’m okay with that. I can stand alone. I still wish I didn’t have to, but I’m okay with it. Perhaps if I couldn’t, a part of me would still be restless, unable to feel like I have a puppet if I needed a man around. Perhaps this truly independent stage is necessary before having what you truly desire. Power. I hope so. Being alone sucks, but being in a bad relationship where you have to be submissive is worse. And only a good relationship where the man is a puppet, is a real upgrade. Most relationships, heck, most marriages, you can keep ’em. It’s either you let me use you or I’m better off single. I believe that. I do.

She thought about her plan. Aisha didn’t need to be present to be powerful. She felt like she had more power now that she was missing, unpredictable and nowhere to be found, according to her knowledge.

Aisha sat naked in front of the television, watching Tom and Jerry and eating Cheerios.

A new life doesn’t open as a present, with pretty ribbons and assurance of comfort, yet more as a road to adventure with a degree of fog and chill. And thus it takes the adventurous heart to grab it, the brave feet to travel it, and the bold eyes to remain open to its curves and undulations. If it were any different, the masses would not stay in such unfulfilling lives from cradle to grave. To gain more is to accept that sensation of danger and risk as one reaches for the far horizon.

She daydreamed about her comeback. She didn’t even let her most trusted associates know where she was. At this point, she didn’t want to take chances. So she’d rather live like a hoodrat for now, until she could figure something out.

In this new life I only seek the sun in the sky and the light so freely given, the days of needing support of others are over, I can well support myself and approve of my own blooms. So keep your old love letters, burn them if you wish, for this girl learned how to love herself.

She grabbed her burner phone and called the number on Alejandro’s card.

Watch out.

Isis.

The sunglasses that Zainab wore were about as close as one can get to sitting in a tinted glass dome. They were truly huge. There were times I thought she touched her surroundings just to remind herself that she was really apart of the scene.

Zainab was still not talking to Isis because of how rude she was to both her and her grandmother and Isis was just too far up in her feelings for her to try to repair any damage.

She thought about her grandmother.

The old woman was my heart, so many years of loving care that made me who I am today. But...

She just eyed both of them silently as they sat on the patio, soaking in the sun.

She casually switched her gaze back to the book that she was reading.

"A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine and the lies go down, man. The soft art of the great teacher to weave the new into the old and help the brain to learn can be mimicked by the liars. They speak softly, use common wisdom and slide the lie right in." "So how do you tell who’s who?" "No king runs when fear comes knocking, no queen nor warrior neither. A master who requires a whip is no master at all. The hero will sacrifice the self if needed, brave and wise. True leaders lead because people trust them enough to want to follow them. The liar will mimic, be a peacock in every parade, yet be careful to keep a whip in case the mask falls."

Hmm.

Know thyself, Panadora. If you are all "hung up" on yourself then you hung up on yourself. Pick up that phone. Dial into your real self and figure out your true feelings. Figure out why you react and respond to situations the way you do. In there is real personal freedom and the key to a good future for you and others. Bon voyage, a bientôt mon amis.

Is everything I read going to speak to my insides indirectly? And is everyone I talk to, going to hang out with the skeletons in their closets until they decide it’s time for Isis to know? I’m sick of this cycle. I’m sick of everyone. And come to think of it, Alejandro hadn’t told me s**t either.

She looked up and saw Alejandro walking towards her, as she sat sprawled on the sofa.

He looked worried.

Isis sucked her teeth and adjusted her glasses.

Such a sissy.

"Alright Alex, let’s hear it." She said, patting the seat next to her.

Alejandro.

There she is. The glasses gave her that big-eyed cute animal look, as if she were the sweetest of anime characters. But it’s breaks my heart that I have to break her heart.

As he walked over to Isis, his mind was buzzing, and his heart was beating like he had just done eight laps around a school field.

Isis Kasmira was a consciousness that could communicate with other realities and was thus the perfect choice for heaven’s missions. She was real in one, a holy ghost in all others. She was the angel warrior, a goddess, a tool to fix a broken universe, and she did what she had to do with poise and stubborn grace. She fixed him. She touched his heart. And now he had to go in and rip hers out of her chest. Everything he was now, was because of her.

After a time we relaxed. We realized the apocalypse was simply a rescue mission from our creator. For the sheep being corralled out of fear there was only blessed relief and the knowledge that He was really there. For these "common people" there was forgiveness combined with a new mission for all. We were all to be the guardians of Earth - of each other, of the animals, of the environment - and that was the only type of worship that meant anything. He wanted brave lions and lionesses, fiercely loving and loyal, independent thinkers pursuing knowledge. He taught that the enemy was fear and without it Earth would be heavenly. He taught that it didn’t matter what religion you were, or if you had none, that letting the spirit of love be your guide was enough. It was time to tell the wolves to stick it and reject a future of being caged and groomed to be "good little consumers." We learned that every action to help was priceless and our lives, our loves, were more meaningful that we had ever imagined. We were called into action and it was the most divine moment in our history.

Alejandro knew he had to do the right thing and that would break Isis’ heart. He looked over his shoulder as he heard Zainab scream as she jumped into the swimming pool, her arms moving as if she was climbing rocks.

He scoffed and threw himself onto the sofa next to Isis.

"I’m so tired babe."

He plopped himself up on one elbow and played with Isis’ hair as she stared at him, probably waiting for him to elaborate.

"Well?" She said, wide-eyed, and clearly annoyed.

She always melted his heart.

There’s something about Isis that makes me feel so young inside, but not in a childish way. She wakes the pure side of me, the best side, all the facets of myself that only require love to be healthy and whole. Should I have eternity to be with this girl, I would sink into serenity, just content to be close. Our energy vibrates in such a unique way, each the perfect compliment of the other. I’m not simply "in love," I’m well and truly smitten. Any other could only be a poor reflection, no more substantial than a shadow of the real thing. Isis is what makes my heart strong. Her smile alone burnishes my soul into a beauty it could never have achieved on its own. Before we met I was one, now I am a half, yet somehow so much more than I ever was before.

He smiled, wryly.

"It’s about myself, and your mom, Aisha. She called me."