Return of the Lady of the Lake

Faithless - Insomnia

***

The cool wind off Lake Michigan blended with the festive fall shoppers' perfumes, colognes, and street foods along the waterfront pier. I stumbled from shop to shop in search of the place written on the slip of paper in my hand, like a drunk trying to find his home. I reread the scrawled name, Potai's, ‘potions’ in Gaelic. Two blocks later, I discovered its weathered sign hung at eye level, descended the steps, and entered the basement shop.

Hand-blown glass bottles lined the shelves in an assortment of sizes and colors. The Gaelic runes hand-drawn on the labels were a mystery to me, and I didn't much care. My nose rebelled from the invasion of decayed and aged roots hung from the ceiling from front to back. Yellow eyes stared down from a shelf behind the counter until its shape moved out of the shadows. A monstrous black cat, more fearsome than a guard dog, hissed at me. I swear a droplet dripped from its teeth, and I believe the pantherette would prefer to consume me.

I hadn't slept in over a month beyond ten-minute naps. Insomnia started with extreme agitation and anger over humankind's complete disregard for the world. Greed, murder, and the impending destruction of the earth had accelerated the possibility the end of our existence was near.

My mental state had deteriorated to the point of misery and spread to others like poison. Prescription pills, herbal teas, and homeopathic drugs all failed to break through my insomnia. I exercised to the point of exhaustion and still couldn’t sleep. The agitation grew as my friends had all ditched me because I had exhausted their patience.

Members of my corporate team avoided me in the office and scurried like rats when I entered the Commercial Real Estate offices I owned. My pale skin, sunken eyes, and lethargic attention to detail had led to rumors I was on illicit drugs. Something had to change.

My bartender friend and quasi counselor, because I tipped big, listened to all my woes. The Irishman, tired of my whining and told me about a potion shop owned by a Gaelic woman that still practiced what he called the old ways. He warned me about the ancient white-haired lady, a Wicca, whom some called a witch.

“Jesse, you Americans think you understand what a witch is like wit a pointy nose, black 'air, and warts. You know nothin until you meet a Cailleach from the old country," he said, "be exact in what you request and say nothin more. She will want something personal from you but refuse, pay only in cash and leave."

***

"Hello, is anyone here," I said, as the pantherette leaped to the counter and hissed again.

"Move away, Sonia," a voice came from the back room, and the cat leaped back to the shelf and growled, discontent.

A haggard white-haired woman, in a long black smock, moved to the counter.

"Can I 'elp you," she said, as her coal-black eyes stared at me. Then a warmth of attraction pulsed magnetically across our distance, and I relaxed.

"I can't sleep, haven't slept well in months. Do potions work or is this just some kind of psychosomatic aid?"

She smiled with yellowed teeth, and the attraction between us increased.

What the heck, I am attracted to this old woman.

"Ahhh, you sense the enticement, do you? I sipped a love potion when you entered and you are attracted to me and my ahld bones," she cackled. "No worry, you're naht me type, but does dat answer your question?"

The Wicca moved around the counter, selected a small blue bottle from a shelf, and returned.

"This ancient potion is from de Lady o' de Lake. Use ahnly one drop a night, after nightfall," she said. "Be warned, dere is always an unspoken price to pay wit potions. The risk is yours to use or not."

Without much thought to her words and desperate to solve my dilemma, I asked her price.

"Five hundred dollars cash and a lock o' your fine hair will make the trade," she said.

"How much without the lock of hair?" I said, and the warmth between us dimmed to a chill.

"One thousand dollars then," she said.

Though I had been warned not to barter a personal item, five hundred dollars for something the barber swept away every month I thought harmless.

"Take the lock of hair," I said. Quick as a snake, the witch whipped out a curved blade and clipped a lock of my hair. Her hands were crinkled and aged with Irish runes tattooed on her knuckles. I handed her the cash, took the bottled potion, and hurried home.

***

My apartment on top of the eighteen-floor high rise provided a panoramic view of Lake Michigan, and the cold blue waters spanned across the glass like a grand art mural. I uncorked the blue bottle without another thought, let a droplet fall on my tongue, laid on the couch, and immediately fell into a desperately needed deep sleep and dreamed.

Moonlight radiated its blue-silver rays across the gentle breaking waves. The undulating slap of the lake's waters pulsed like a pendulum in my chest. The internal calm exceeded the peace of a perfect yoga session. I leaned on a washed-out and broken boat hull long retired from service.

My pulse quickened when I envisioned a woman's head, then a svelte body rise from the waters and moved toward me until she stopped with the water at her waist. Her wet blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and partially covered her perfectly shaped breasts above her firm hourglass figure. Her juniper eyes paired with the moonlight and illuminated her perfect Anglo nose and full lips. Sharp accented cheekbones sloped to her curved jawline. I had come into the presence of a goddess. She smiled and raised her hand for me to come to her. Compelled by a previously unknown longing, I stepped into the shallows and moved deliberately towards her until I was waist-deep and stopped a few feet from her. She moved towards me, and I held my breath in awe. Her hand touched the side of my face.

She spoke into my mind, "You are a beautiful man and I choose you."

I longed to have her lips meet mine. Excitement and longing fired electric synapses throughout my body. Hypnotic pools like clear blue water drew my gaze into the depths of her eyes. Her lips were inches from mine, and I awoke.

***

The sun rose to the east and flashed its amber light across the lake, and I bolted upright off the couch. I had slept for ten hours straight, but my mind was overwhelmed with the memory of the sensuous woman from my dream. Dreams can be vague or so surreal you can't separate them from reality. This vision was beyond surreal, and I touched the side of my face where her hand had laid. I showered, dressed, and went to my office to make amends for the past days of being a total ass and complete some work.

The real estate office staff I managed collectively held their breath as I entered and exhaled relief at my happy greeting.

"Happy morning everyone. Jo Jo's Catering will be delivering brunch at eleven. I apologize for being an ass, and I'm sorry. I hope this treat will make amends for my behavior the past few weeks," I said and went to my corner office.

My assistant brought the day's schedule to review, and I caught her staring at me.

"Is everything alright," I said.

"Oh yes, I’m much better now your back to your old self," she said, "except, your eyes, they are much bluer than I remember, very blue. You okay?"

"I'm fine, I finally got some sleep," I said.

The morning sailed by, and I found myself peering out my office window toward the Lake. I had always taken the view for granted, but now the view brought me a settled peace. Could someone like the woman in my dream really exist? I longed to go home throughout the busy afternoon, take the potion, and try to recapture the sensuous moments again. I finished the day, canceled a dinner engagement, and went home.

The sun dropped over the horizon to the west, and I retrieved the blue bottle, dribbled one drop on my tongue, and laid back on my bed, but I couldn't sleep. An hour later, frustrated, I dripped a second drop onto my tongue and fell into a deep slumber.

I walked the edge of the lakeshore as the moon shadows danced on the moving waves and sat again on the old boat hulls bow. She rose again from the waters to waste deep, and her fingers invited me to her once again. I entered the lake and went to her.

"Who are you," I asked.

She put her finger to my lips and smiled. Her hand slipped behind my neck, leaned close, and her lips touched mine and lingered. Our eyes were locked onto each other's, and the mystic tones of a Celtic lyre played as she pressed her heated body close to mine in a perfect fit. In sync, we slow danced in rhythm with each other, the song, and the waves. A sweetness like honey flowed from her mouth to mine.

I awoke, aroused in mind, spirit, and body.

***

The workday ticked by in slow motion as my mind raced. Who is this woman? Does she exist? What is feeding these dreams? They are so realistic, or do I just wish them to be real? I cannot free my mind from her.

In the late afternoon, a presentation on a new acquisition agitated me with its monotony. The presenter droned like a worker bee as she went through each PowerPoint slide until I snapped.

"Enough!," I said as I slammed the palm of my hand on the conference table.

My executive vice president stopped mid-sentence, and my management team whipped their heads to me in sync, their faces in shock. I launched out of my chair, exited the room, and left behind my staff and the shattered ego of my most valuable employee. I passed the elevator and ran down the twenty-three flights of stairs, out of the building, and headed toward the waterfront.

The narrow beach I walked appeared familiar, like Deja Vu, when I came upon a boat's hull identical to the one in my dreams. I must have seen this before and it fed my dreams. The view from the bow was just like my dreams except for the sunlight, and I longed for her to come to me from the white-capped blue waters.

"Are you real? If so, how do I find you?" I said.

***

The sun descended in the sky, and I took a taxi home. With no appetite except to dream again, I showered, took the blue bottle to my bed, and took two drops. Thirty minutes later, determined to dream again, I swallowed the third drop and fell into a deep sleep.

The midnight blue sky with the moon's silver orb shimmered on the water as before. I sat, once again, on the bow of the boat hull. The excitement of anticipation pulsed through my body as she emerged from the water before me and beckoned me to join her, and I did. Silver specks glimmered in her hair as she smiled, and her soft full lips brushed mine in greeting. A transfer of warmth surged through my body and pulsed against hers. She retreated a step, took my hand, and gently pulled me toward the deeper waters, released my hand, turned, and dove into the water. Her perfectly arched ass and long legs disappeared below the surface.

The fantasy of my lifetime reappeared ten yards away, turned her head, and her fingers invited me to join her.

The water slipped off my skin as my body arched into the water, and I surfaced beside her. Our bodies pressed together again as she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist, and I felt her hot center core against me when she kissed me, laughed, and pushed me away, and swam further away into even deeper waters. I laughed at this game of cat and mouse and followed.

We played in the water, like two otters, until she dove deep, and I followed her to the bottom, twenty feet down. I held my breath as long as possible but soon pointed up with my intent to surface or air.

She took my hand and shook her head, and signaled, no. Her voice in my head said,

"Trust me Jesse, look into my eyes, stay here with me, you can breathe!"

My lungs convulsed in desperation and the exhausted air escaped, and I sucked the water of the lake into my lungs. To my amazement, I breathed underwater. She laughed with a joy that stirred my soul and kissed me deeply.

I awoke to the isolation of my apartment with the sun blazing through my window. My hands rubbed my eyes, and I stared at my fingernails; they had turned an azure blue, and my toenails were the same. I ran to a mirror, and my eyes were a brighter blue. Though I had slept, my body was physically drained. Alarmed, I called and canceled my appointments, to my assistant's apparent relief, to await the night.

***

The sun set, and the moon waxed towards full. I lay on my bed and dripped three drops on my tongue, yet sleep didn't come. After a fourth and fifth drop failed, I lunged out of bed, angry, and in frustration emptied the remaining contents of the blue bottle onto my tongue and remained awake. I paced the room in agitation and stared through the glass to the lake. At the peak of my despair, her voice spoke inside my head.

"Come to me, come to your lady of the Lake, and I will meet you there," she said.

An hour later I sat on the bow as I had in my dreams and a stiff breeze feathered my hair. The goosebumps on my arm proved I was awake. The woman of my dreams rose from the lake and beckoned me to come to her. Without thought, I shed my clothes and stepped into the cold water to join her. She turned away and dove into the waves. I followed her into the deep and caught up with her. Her hand took mine, pulled me close, and wrapped her long legs around my waist. The firmness of her breasts against my chest warmed me.

"Look into my eyes," she said, and I obeyed though I needed air.

"Trust me Jesse, be with me, you can breathe with me, just like in our dream."

My brain fought a war with my heart as my body became desperate with the need for air. My hand frantically reached for the surface. She pressed her finger to my lips, with tattooed runes on her knuckles that seemed familiar. Her eyes transformed from the radiant blue of my dreams to black orbs that consumed all light rather than give it.

I struggled to break free, but her powerful legs closed tighter around my waist until my lungs expelled the air within. Reflexively, I sucked water into my lungs as my body convulsed in rejection. Her face shone in triumph as her hand pressed into my chest. Blue light radiated from my heart, through her hand, and up her arm. Her head arched back from its radiance.

"Thank you, Jesse. The potion has given you what you requested, sleep, and I regain the beauty of my youth. Eternal sleep, that is," her coarse voice cackled as her legs released me and she rose to the surface.

I sank deeper into the cold depths as the thief of my life swam away.

And I remembered, the tattooed runes... it was the witch. She tricked me.

The moonlit waters of the lake faded from my eyes as the black curtains of eternity closed to a pinpoint. I longed for the touch of love, peace, and joy I had discovered in my dreams. My stopped heart broke into a tortured scream and resounded through the universe.

Then everything transformed.

Radiant warmth, yet surreal, enveloped me and the black curtains retracted, and my eyes were blinded by a stark light of energy. The woman of my dreams, in her startling beauty, hovered over me, put her mouth to mine, and breathed a blue light of life into me. The glorious apparition took my hand and gently pulled me through the depths of the water for hours.

***

I opened my eyes as the sun rose over a vine-covered wall on a balcony that overlooked a smooth, crystal clear body of water. The blue sky and trees on the edges of the lake met in the reflection of its perfection. I turned my head, and the lady of my dreams lay beside me. Her long slender fingers touched my lips to calm me.

"You called for me, my love. I am Evelyn, the true Lady of the Lake. Welcome to Avalon. I have longed and searched for you, my true love, throughout the ages. You have been found worthy by the forfeit of your life for love and are now changed to my form. We are empowered by the Mother of the Earth with a purpose to unify and love each other. We will lead the battle to combat the evils responsible for the destruction of her existence.

She said, "Love me now, Jesse, for tomorrow on Hallowe'en, from the stars, will come her just retribution. Thereafter, it shall be called The Day of a Billion Dead when we reclaim Mother's Earth.