Astronaut.
you’re caught between the devil
It was impossible to tell if this was a dream or a nightmare. Madeline lay between his legs, her crazy eyes alight on his face and her sharp teeth brandished. Her fingers were as long as spider legs, picking at the button of his jeans. Noah scurried away from her in horror, but she was attached. She kept trying to get inside the protective layer of his clothes, and that was thelast place he wanted her to be. He pushed her away and tried to wiggle free, unwanting of her strange affection.
With an abrupt yelp, he woke up. A woman was in the bunk beside him, sound asleep with the moonlight on her skin. For a moment he thought that her hair was dark.Jupiter, he thought in tired elation. She stirred in her sleep, turning to show him a mane of fiery red hair. His heart sank.
He fell back on his pillow with a dejected sigh. His golden eyes stared up through the darkness at the open window on the opposite wall. Through its dusty glass, he could see a dark and starry sky. He wanted to go for a walk. He had wanted to look at the South American streets they were visiting since they had arrived earlier that day. Madeline had kept him busy unpacking and cleaning her pathetic plane until he felt his fingers would begin to bleed.
His travelling boots were on his feet, now. The laces were a bother, so he just tucked them inside. His hand snatched the jacket that rested at the foot of his bed and he spread his wings to don its embrace. The entrance, opened by his hand, released a burst of moist air. With a grin, he let himself out into the world.
This place looked like a deserted fairground. Through the heavy foliage that had grown over everything, he could see rusty metal with faded paint and peeling coats. They were like toys lost in a child’s backyard, where nobody cared to look into the soft shadows.
He walked through the tall grass with his eyes wide open. The air was tingling around him, lighting on his skin like the fireflies from home.Home, his mind whispered to him. He wouldn’t listen to it. Stubbornly, he pushed through the overgrown weeds toward the large shadow that was the carnival’s only twisted oak tree.
His eyes lifted to the clear blue sky that was beginning to lighten. There were a few stars visible on the horizon, but they were being shy behind the branches of the tree before him. He could almost see their sparkle, but then they would wink out of sight and forbid his gaze each time he nearly caught one. A frown etched itself on his mouth as he looked beside the tree.
A little house, with fiery-painted walls and white windows, was protected beneath the oak’s shade. There was a black picket fence that circled the front porch, where the grass was deep green and alive.
Noah, being who he was, simply couldn’t leave a curious little home unexplored. Maybe he would find something that might help him in his quest. The trail had been running cold; he was becoming less and less interested in the situations he found himself living. Madeline was getting more frustrated with him every day, it seemed. Soon she would refuse to be his lover any longer… which he didn’t mind. It was the fact that she was his ticket around the world. She was the only pilot he had been able to find at the time, and he was a little afraid to look again. He had to please her while she would still let him, or he might be stranded out here in a foreign world.
He pushed the gate aside with his hand, eyes staying on the house. Who lived there? As he came closer, a soft breeze began to tug on his shirt and hair. The soft sound of wind-chimes filled his head and made him sigh with peacefulness. A twinkle caught his eye, and he saw the metal singers dangling at the corner of the porch, each separate chime hung beside another, so that they made a long row. They were all different colors, no two quite alike. Noah smiled and came closer, like a child caught by the loveliness of an angel. He stopped once he reached the wooden railing, his eyes peering up at the instruments in wonder. He could see now that some of them had colored pieces of glass hanging amidst them.
“You like my music?” a soft voice asked from the shadows. Noah jumped back, trying to search out the speaker. He saw a faint silhouette sitting on the porch. A quiet chuckle floated through the air and landed gently on Noah’s ears. There was a scratching sound, and then a small flame burst to life. He watched in wonder as a candle was lit, and he could see the man sitting there.
His skin was like melted dark chocolate, with a golden shine made by the warm firelight. He wore a deep purple vest, trimmed with gold, that didn’t quite hide the tattoos on his chest. An emerald pendant hung from his strong neck on a thin, golden chain.
“What, you have never seen a man-gypsy?” The man’s grin was wide and white; Noah could see a tiny gap between his front teeth. “Come onto my porch, man.”
Cautiously, he walked toward the steps. “What is a man-gypsy?” he asked, his eyes watching where he stepped. He didn’t want to stand on anybody’s voodoo doll and possibly crush them.
A jolly laugh burst through the air, startling the visitor. “A man just like any other, but one who is a little more prone to connect to another’s soul.” His eyes, as black and slick as a panther’s fur, locked on Noah’s. “Would you like to come inside for a drink?”
He was tugged back and forth in his mind. Should he go in and be with this stranger, who was looking at him like a lion? Or should he turn and run now, while he still could? He shrugged off the latter idea, because what harm could this young man be? With a budding smile on his lips, he nodded.
“Excellent, excellent. Come with me, now.” The gypsy stood and started toward the door. Noah watched him disappear into the darkness, and he paused at the doorstep. Would he dare enter? “Are you coming, friend?” The decision was made for him; he went inside.
After a moment, his golden eyes became accustomed to the dim light. He could now see the deep crimson rugs that shielded the stained-wood floors. As time progressed, patterns on the cloth popped up all over. It felt like he was walking on ancient runes in the soft carpet. The walls were decorated with hanging blankets of different styles. One was very pale blue mixed with white, like oil and water that couldn’t blend. There were Asian Koi fish swirling through the currents of the tie-dye, like birds soaring through translucent clouds.
“This way.”
He turned to his right and found a large dining room. There was a small bar built against the far wall. He was mystified by all the interacting patterns and pictures, overlapping in his mind and nearly making him dizzy. The gypsy led him to one of the stools, then started busying himself with many intricate and colored bottles.
Noah breathed in deeply, having found his ground, and was surprised by the heady scent that burst in his body. “Mm! What incense are you using?” he burst out. The gypsy turned to him with a funny look. Noah bit his lip and looked down. Maybe some things were private.
The gypsy smiled widely. “It is Nag Champa. From India. You like?” He chuckled at the other man’s enthusiastic nodding. “You may have some when you leave.”
“Wow, really?”
The black man’s laugh was hearty and gorgeous. “Of course, friend! You are here for me as much as I am here for you.”
Noah paused. “What does that mean?” The twinkle in the gypsy’s eye was unnerving.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” He grinned in a way that made Noah feel like a child being schooled. “Well, I’ll tell you, friend. Have a drink.”
A glass appeared in Noah’s hand. He peered down into it, afraid of its contents, but noted that it smelled incredibly delicious. It was like honey and cinnamon. With a reassuring nod from the gypsy, he lifted it to his lips and drank. It slid down his throat like a cool snake, leaving a strange tingling feeling that spread to his fingers and toes. “What is this?” he asked as he drank again.
“It is a secret.”
His gaze flashed forward. “Secret? Like what?” He eyed the glass suspiciously, as if it were laced with poison.
The gypsy’s smile was still large and comforting. He took Noah’s hand and patted it gently. “I am going to help you.” In response to his confusion, the gypsy lifted a hand and touched Noah’s brow. Oddly, he didn’t shift away. “You are almost ready. Do you feel well?”
Noah was gnawing his lip worriedly, looking all around the room in a panic. What was going to happen to him? “I… do…” He felt like his face was getting warmer, and the sensations in his limbs had yet to calm.
“Do you know what I am going to do?”
Noah shook his head like a sorry child.
“Oh, well,” the gypsy chuckled and sat back on his stool. “I am going to perform a type of hypnosis on you. It is commonly used for self-realization. You, my friend, seemed quite lost to me.”
“Oh…”
“Now. I will ask you a question, and you will answer me what is in your heart. Do you understand?”
Noah nodded and watched the gypsy’s skin glitter. His tattoos were of suns and galaxies.
The gypsy’s dark eyes moved over the man before him, measuring where his thoughts would be. “What are you afraid of?”
After a moment: “Being alone.”
Instant progress. The gypsy took a sip of his whiskey. “What are you looking for?”
“Whatever there is for me to find.”
Noah looked in a daze. His dark curls were shimmering in the colored light of the gypsy’s many candles. “So you don’t know what you are searching for?”
He shook his head solemnly as his eyes began to close.
The gypsy snapped his fingers and brought the man back to attention. “You have lost yourself, astronaut,” he said grandly.
Noah bowed his head respectfully. “I have, star maker.”
“How long have you been away?”
A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. “Four years in a month.”
“When will you return home, alien?”
“Once I find out why it is there.”
“Where is there, exactly?”
“With Jupiter.” A gasp burst from his lips as he looked up at the gypsy. Realization shone in his eyes. “With Jupiter,” he repeated, and a smile grew on his face.
With an abrupt yelp, he woke up. A woman was in the bunk beside him, sound asleep with the moonlight on her skin. For a moment he thought that her hair was dark.Jupiter, he thought in tired elation. She stirred in her sleep, turning to show him a mane of fiery red hair. His heart sank.
He fell back on his pillow with a dejected sigh. His golden eyes stared up through the darkness at the open window on the opposite wall. Through its dusty glass, he could see a dark and starry sky. He wanted to go for a walk. He had wanted to look at the South American streets they were visiting since they had arrived earlier that day. Madeline had kept him busy unpacking and cleaning her pathetic plane until he felt his fingers would begin to bleed.
His travelling boots were on his feet, now. The laces were a bother, so he just tucked them inside. His hand snatched the jacket that rested at the foot of his bed and he spread his wings to don its embrace. The entrance, opened by his hand, released a burst of moist air. With a grin, he let himself out into the world.
This place looked like a deserted fairground. Through the heavy foliage that had grown over everything, he could see rusty metal with faded paint and peeling coats. They were like toys lost in a child’s backyard, where nobody cared to look into the soft shadows.
He walked through the tall grass with his eyes wide open. The air was tingling around him, lighting on his skin like the fireflies from home.Home, his mind whispered to him. He wouldn’t listen to it. Stubbornly, he pushed through the overgrown weeds toward the large shadow that was the carnival’s only twisted oak tree.
His eyes lifted to the clear blue sky that was beginning to lighten. There were a few stars visible on the horizon, but they were being shy behind the branches of the tree before him. He could almost see their sparkle, but then they would wink out of sight and forbid his gaze each time he nearly caught one. A frown etched itself on his mouth as he looked beside the tree.
A little house, with fiery-painted walls and white windows, was protected beneath the oak’s shade. There was a black picket fence that circled the front porch, where the grass was deep green and alive.
Noah, being who he was, simply couldn’t leave a curious little home unexplored. Maybe he would find something that might help him in his quest. The trail had been running cold; he was becoming less and less interested in the situations he found himself living. Madeline was getting more frustrated with him every day, it seemed. Soon she would refuse to be his lover any longer… which he didn’t mind. It was the fact that she was his ticket around the world. She was the only pilot he had been able to find at the time, and he was a little afraid to look again. He had to please her while she would still let him, or he might be stranded out here in a foreign world.
He pushed the gate aside with his hand, eyes staying on the house. Who lived there? As he came closer, a soft breeze began to tug on his shirt and hair. The soft sound of wind-chimes filled his head and made him sigh with peacefulness. A twinkle caught his eye, and he saw the metal singers dangling at the corner of the porch, each separate chime hung beside another, so that they made a long row. They were all different colors, no two quite alike. Noah smiled and came closer, like a child caught by the loveliness of an angel. He stopped once he reached the wooden railing, his eyes peering up at the instruments in wonder. He could see now that some of them had colored pieces of glass hanging amidst them.
“You like my music?” a soft voice asked from the shadows. Noah jumped back, trying to search out the speaker. He saw a faint silhouette sitting on the porch. A quiet chuckle floated through the air and landed gently on Noah’s ears. There was a scratching sound, and then a small flame burst to life. He watched in wonder as a candle was lit, and he could see the man sitting there.
His skin was like melted dark chocolate, with a golden shine made by the warm firelight. He wore a deep purple vest, trimmed with gold, that didn’t quite hide the tattoos on his chest. An emerald pendant hung from his strong neck on a thin, golden chain.
“What, you have never seen a man-gypsy?” The man’s grin was wide and white; Noah could see a tiny gap between his front teeth. “Come onto my porch, man.”
Cautiously, he walked toward the steps. “What is a man-gypsy?” he asked, his eyes watching where he stepped. He didn’t want to stand on anybody’s voodoo doll and possibly crush them.
A jolly laugh burst through the air, startling the visitor. “A man just like any other, but one who is a little more prone to connect to another’s soul.” His eyes, as black and slick as a panther’s fur, locked on Noah’s. “Would you like to come inside for a drink?”
He was tugged back and forth in his mind. Should he go in and be with this stranger, who was looking at him like a lion? Or should he turn and run now, while he still could? He shrugged off the latter idea, because what harm could this young man be? With a budding smile on his lips, he nodded.
“Excellent, excellent. Come with me, now.” The gypsy stood and started toward the door. Noah watched him disappear into the darkness, and he paused at the doorstep. Would he dare enter? “Are you coming, friend?” The decision was made for him; he went inside.
After a moment, his golden eyes became accustomed to the dim light. He could now see the deep crimson rugs that shielded the stained-wood floors. As time progressed, patterns on the cloth popped up all over. It felt like he was walking on ancient runes in the soft carpet. The walls were decorated with hanging blankets of different styles. One was very pale blue mixed with white, like oil and water that couldn’t blend. There were Asian Koi fish swirling through the currents of the tie-dye, like birds soaring through translucent clouds.
“This way.”
He turned to his right and found a large dining room. There was a small bar built against the far wall. He was mystified by all the interacting patterns and pictures, overlapping in his mind and nearly making him dizzy. The gypsy led him to one of the stools, then started busying himself with many intricate and colored bottles.
Noah breathed in deeply, having found his ground, and was surprised by the heady scent that burst in his body. “Mm! What incense are you using?” he burst out. The gypsy turned to him with a funny look. Noah bit his lip and looked down. Maybe some things were private.
The gypsy smiled widely. “It is Nag Champa. From India. You like?” He chuckled at the other man’s enthusiastic nodding. “You may have some when you leave.”
“Wow, really?”
The black man’s laugh was hearty and gorgeous. “Of course, friend! You are here for me as much as I am here for you.”
Noah paused. “What does that mean?” The twinkle in the gypsy’s eye was unnerving.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” He grinned in a way that made Noah feel like a child being schooled. “Well, I’ll tell you, friend. Have a drink.”
A glass appeared in Noah’s hand. He peered down into it, afraid of its contents, but noted that it smelled incredibly delicious. It was like honey and cinnamon. With a reassuring nod from the gypsy, he lifted it to his lips and drank. It slid down his throat like a cool snake, leaving a strange tingling feeling that spread to his fingers and toes. “What is this?” he asked as he drank again.
“It is a secret.”
His gaze flashed forward. “Secret? Like what?” He eyed the glass suspiciously, as if it were laced with poison.
The gypsy’s smile was still large and comforting. He took Noah’s hand and patted it gently. “I am going to help you.” In response to his confusion, the gypsy lifted a hand and touched Noah’s brow. Oddly, he didn’t shift away. “You are almost ready. Do you feel well?”
Noah was gnawing his lip worriedly, looking all around the room in a panic. What was going to happen to him? “I… do…” He felt like his face was getting warmer, and the sensations in his limbs had yet to calm.
“Do you know what I am going to do?”
Noah shook his head like a sorry child.
“Oh, well,” the gypsy chuckled and sat back on his stool. “I am going to perform a type of hypnosis on you. It is commonly used for self-realization. You, my friend, seemed quite lost to me.”
“Oh…”
“Now. I will ask you a question, and you will answer me what is in your heart. Do you understand?”
Noah nodded and watched the gypsy’s skin glitter. His tattoos were of suns and galaxies.
The gypsy’s dark eyes moved over the man before him, measuring where his thoughts would be. “What are you afraid of?”
After a moment: “Being alone.”
Instant progress. The gypsy took a sip of his whiskey. “What are you looking for?”
“Whatever there is for me to find.”
Noah looked in a daze. His dark curls were shimmering in the colored light of the gypsy’s many candles. “So you don’t know what you are searching for?”
He shook his head solemnly as his eyes began to close.
The gypsy snapped his fingers and brought the man back to attention. “You have lost yourself, astronaut,” he said grandly.
Noah bowed his head respectfully. “I have, star maker.”
“How long have you been away?”
A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. “Four years in a month.”
“When will you return home, alien?”
“Once I find out why it is there.”
“Where is there, exactly?”
“With Jupiter.” A gasp burst from his lips as he looked up at the gypsy. Realization shone in his eyes. “With Jupiter,” he repeated, and a smile grew on his face.
♠ ♠ ♠
The gypsy character is based off the little I know about one of my mom's co-workers and friends, Ash.vvv
My mother is also a wonderful photographer and artist. She is designing his next tattoo. : P
My mom's awesome. SO ARE YOU IF YOU COMMENT. -giggle- <3
