38. Levi
LEVI
Waves the temperature of bathwater lap gently at my bare feet as my eyes scan a dulcet, twilight horizon.
The kiss of a warm breeze on my skin coupled with the sound and feel of the waves is a balm to my soul.
I can’t quite recall what it is that’s caused this immense weight on my chest, but it’s there all the same, gradually dissipating thanks to the sea and this island.
How did I get here?
“You chose this place.”
My gaze reluctantly leaves the dying whisper of the sunset to turn towards the voice beside me. Deep and smooth. Soothing like the scene in front of me. If not melancholy.
At first glance, his eyes appear entirely black—entirely absent of sclera—a stark contrast to his pale skin.
But as I hold his gaze, tiny pinpricks of light glow, swirling like an expanding universe.
The longer I stare, the more this weight on my chest—an overwhelming guilt and sadness—is liberated.
When his gaze shifts towards the water, the weight of it returns.
It’s then that I notice his enormous, velvety, matte black wings. So dark they seem to absorb the light. Substantial enough in weight and size to carry his large form.
Something about him seems both strange and familiar.
“Do I know you?”
His eyes briefly shift back to mine.
“In one way or another, yes, everyone knows me. You may call me Somnus.”
My mind turns over his words, and I realize I have no context to make sense of them, but this weight on my chest seems to demand my full attention and is becoming increasingly unbearable.
So much so that now I can scarcely breathe.
My desperation to be freed only fortifies it.
After several moments, my throat actually closes.
I can’t breathe.
My hand claws at my sternum. Some distant instinct seems to awaken in the back of my mind—mental training of some kind that will enable me to make it through the panic. Or prevent it entirely. But it remains just out of reach.
“Your SEAL training won’t help you here.”
Flashes of foggy, distant memories flicker through my mind: blood, mutilated bodies, corpses, unfathomable violence, friends and brothers whose faces I know in my soul but for some reason my mind doesn’t recognize, even though these memories tell me I’ve cradled them in my arms as they breathe their last breath.
That weight intensifies to the point I’m certain ribs will crack and too-long seconds pass. My vision begins to sway as my diaphragm spasms.
Somnus fills my vision as he squats down beside me, imploring me with dark, sparkling eyes.
“You just have to…”
He lays his hand on my chest as he finishes his sentence.
“Let. Go.”
Something inside me snaps and breaks free. My vision turns white, and my lungs finally manage to draw breath. The sudden intake of oxygen provides a burning relief, and the world rushes back in.
My vision clears, but instead of a twilight sky, I’m staring up at a thick, glittering blanket of stars.
Somnus is gone, though the beach remains.
When I finally catch my breath, I force myself to sit up. Feeling a little more awake, and a little more lost.
“Sal…”
Grief blooms through my chest like poison in water at the sound of my mother’s voice. My eyes slip shut—images of her hanging by a belt in her closet sear through my mind. Tears fall, and I can’t bring myself to look at her because I’m terrified of what I’ll find.
Her voice drops to a tremulous whisper. “Sal, please…”
My mouth trembles, jaw clenching, working to stifle the sudden sob crawling up my throat in search of escape.
When her hand slips over my shoulder, I can’t hold it in any longer. A choked sob breaks free, and I curl in on myself, bowing over my knees as the last twenty-odd years of grief wrack my body, and my mother speaks words that I hadn’t realized I’d been dying to hear.
“I’m so sorry, tesoro. I’m so fucking sorry. I should have been stronger for you.”
Her arms curl around my shoulders as she pulls me against her chest, and her familiar scent—the scent of home—invades my senses, making it all the more overwhelming. My sobs turn violent and messy.
“Oh, my precious angel. How could I have ever left you when you meant everything to me? All I wanted was for you to be okay. I love you more than life itself. I wish I could go back and fix it. Save you from this. I was just too broken to see beyond it.”
Her hands cup my face, guiding my gaze to hers, as her thumbs stroke my cheeks. The sight of my mother’s bright green eyes makes me want to bawl all over again.
“You’ve grown into such a handsome man, Sal. I couldn’t be more proud.”
The words I’ve been dying to speak for the last twenty years finally burst free.
“I’m so fucking angry at you.”
Tears stream down her cheeks as she nods.
“I know, baby. I’m mad at me, too.”
“I should have been enough for you.”
Her curls bounce as she nods, and her hands stroke my hair.
“You were, tesoro. You were enough. You are more than enough. That’s not why I left.”
“That’s bullshit. You fucking left me.”
“I left because I didn’t want you to go down the same path as your father because of me. It was stupid and deluded and so fucking wrong, I know, but don’t you dare for a second think it was because you weren’t enough.”
No matter what she says, there are no words that will ever be able to convince me otherwise.
“I should have been enough to help you move on. You were waiting to die. I was just an excuse.”
Her eyes dart over every inch of my face as if it’ll give her an escape from the truth in my words.
“I’m sorry for being so selfish. You were more than enough, and I was too blind to see it.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”
She nods in acceptance.
Silence descends between us, and I’m not sure how much time passes, but eventually, that aching in my chest returns.
An anchor pinning me beneath the surface of the sea, keeping me from the life-giving air above it.
While my mother isn’t demanding I forgive her, my body, mind, and soul are, so I can finally fucking breathe.
When my arms finally wrap around her—so much smaller and more fragile than I remember—I stroke her hair. Relief washes over me in a cascade that spills down my cheeks.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much, Ma.”