The Gatekeeper

“Its time Adrianna”, I open my eyes holding a hand up to block the harsh glare of the Sun. As I show a finger to the Sun, it twinkles. It laughs at me and my predicament. A prisoner in her own choice of prison. Every soul who walks through this meadow knows my name, but none will remember it once they leave. I take a moment to appreciate the meadow around me, filled with beds of vibrant yellow marigold flowers. “Adrianna, it’s time. Please”. The owner of the melodious voice, pulls my attention back to him. The man’s name is Carlos, tilting my head I look at him curiously. He should not be here, it is not his time yet, I can feel it. He is too alive, untouched by the winds of death. His hazel eyes shine against the sun light, he seems so at ease. So at… home. His muscular arms twitch in anticipation and fear as I close the distance between us. “Carlos, I would say it’s nice to see you. But since you interrupted my nap…”. The tremble in his voice, the wriggling of his fingers. He is more than twice my size, he could easily overpower me in the physical sense, all are equal in this meadow. Yet he fears me, trembling like a child would when in trouble, how odd. “I am… I am sorry Adrianna. But, I … its time”. “You must really be desperate, if you are willing to offer me anything”. I take his trembling hands into mine. My small hands fitting in perfectly with his. I intertwine our hands and lead us to the edge of the meadow. It is not his time yet, I know it. But who am I to stop him if he wishes to walk the path.

“Once you take this step, there is no going back. You must know that Carlos. I do not mean this lightly”. We walk on in silence, towards our destination. A tree, like any of the others surrounding this meadow. We come to a stop and I stretch my hand out to it and lay my palm on its rough trunk. Its splinters digging into my palm. As I close my eyes I can feel the breath moving through the tree up from its roots and into my hands. Each beat of its heart, in perfect sync with my own. We become one and merge into each other. “Why do you fear me?” The question escapes, curiosity getting the better of me. When I get no answer, I turn to look at him. His eyes open wide in wonder and terror. “You look… different”. He looks back across the path we took his eyes coming to a rest just above my head. At the crown of thorns now sitting on top of my midnight blue hair. “Well that’s rude of you to comment on my appearance”. The side of lips turn up, as I say “what did you expect, I am the gate keeper. I do have to look scary, otherwise how can I be expected to keep meddlesome children, such as yourself, away. I give him a smile, a true smile. From the bob of his throat, I know he can see a row of sharp teeth, perhaps the yellow slits in my eyes are visible too. Though judging from my average eyesight, I would say that change is yet to happen.

Carlos pulls himself up straighter and says “you do not scare me, Gatekeeper. You have shown nothing but love to the world. You hold the hand of loved ones as they pass on with love and grace. Even in their last moments, you make sure they are never alone. You were banished here by your father. To serve as the gate keeper between the worlds of the living and the dead. Yet, not once have you left the acquaintance of mercy and grace”. The wind howls as if it agrees with the words of this young man. The heads of the hundreds of marigolds in the meadow swaying like they are dancing to some silent music. “You asked me why I fear you. I don’t fear but envy you, because you are brave and kind, yet fearless in the face of death. I tremble because your power scares me, but not you. The power to always live by love and grace. Those are traits that are too be feared yes, but envied too. For very few possess them and those who do are masters of life”. I laugh at that, the sound echoing eerily in the silent forest, the vibrations bouncing from tree to tree, bringing the whole forest alive. “You really are a sweetheart. But I am sorry to point it out to you my love, but I am neither alive nor dead. I will forever be stuck in the eternal space between. I am the gatekeeper not only for the living, but for the dead too. I am neither the master of death or life”. I don’t hold back the bitterness that coats my words as I say them. Shaking his head he points to the open meadow as he says “despite living in constant darkness, look how bright your light shines. This meadow your home, these beautiful vibrant flowers your bed. You choose this to be your prison. You crafted a place where light lives even without any life”.

The wind rages at his words and a marigold escapes and lands into his open palm. I look on in utter bewilderment as he says “marigolds can be a symbol of grief and mourning but are also symbols of joy, optimism and good luck. How apt that this is the gift you give to each departing soul, an acknowledgement of the loss caused by their passing, yet a symbol of happiness and optimism”. “How do you know I gift a marigold to each departing soul? Only those who have crossed a door know this, and as soon as they cross over they forget, the marigold acting as an invisible beacon in their life. There is no way you could have known this, unless…” I look at his smiling face as realisation dawns on me. He has been to the meadow before, he has crossed a door but remembered the meadow. How is this possible?

“A daughter exiled, a Goddess not born but created. Yours is a name no child knows, but every soul remembers. Your story never to be told, your name only to be whispered by the winds of death or by the light of life”. Kneeling down in front of me, face bowed, ebony hair falling around his face like a curtain, holding up the palm on which there was once a marigold. I gasp, as resting on his open palm is no longer a marigold but a key. “It’s time, Adrianna to open up the one door you have not touched for over a hundred years. It’s time for you to walk through your door. Home is calling you”. I take the key from his palm, a key I am very familiar with, “Who are you? How do you know so much about me?” As Carlos begins standing, his appearance changes. Sitting on top of his curly hair is a crown of glittering blue sapphires, his shoulders become wider, his height twice what it was when he first appeared. But the most astonishing of all are the cobalt blue wings that are disturbing the wind. “I am Carlos, as you rightly side. You were also right that it is not my time yet. Nor will it ever be. I am the God of life my dear and I am here to level the playing field. For far too long, I have been watching you play me. It was fun for a while, but I thought the bitterness to being exiled and imprisoned here would eventually force you to turn to the dark. But you never allowed the dark to consume you. You disrupted the balance, Adrianna”.

“So I am here to offer you what you have wanted for the last hundred years, I am here to offer you a chance at life”. I looked at the key in my hand and said, “with this key? How can this key give me a chance at life?” Putting a hand on my shoulder he said “behind each door is a fear, a life. There has been one for you too. Your father banished you here, but you imprisoned yourself. You believed that you could never open that door, you feared what doing so would do. But all you had to do was turn the key and push the door”. Trembling I turn the key over in my palm, the key to the one door I have never opened for anyone. The one with my name on it. Connecting back to the tree, I place my palm over its bark. I feel the strum of its heart beat, its excitement. A green light emanated from the base of the tree as the outline of a door appeared on the door. Without looking back, I take a step forward into a life. A new life, a new adventure. I refuse to be scared of what may happen behind this door. I own this door and not the other way around.