To Find Love

  I was awakened that morning by the clock radio playing one of my favorite songs.  I had lain in bed with my eyes shut, enjoying the loud music until the song ended, then I heard the rumbling.  I turned the radio off, went across the room, and looked out the window at the gray sky, and in the distance where the sun should have been, I saw an ink-spill of a cloud moving in.

  I always did like when it rained and the way it cleaned the air, washing away the dust and dirt, letting it gather on the ground to return to the earth from which it came.  I had not made any plans to go out, not that I had anyone to share the day with anyway, so for once I was having a good morning.

  I grabbed a pair of shorts and headed for the kitchen for some breakfast, popping some more good music in the player as I went through the living room.

  As the day progressed, a light sprinkle and breeze turned into the most savage tempest I had ever witnessed.  The thunder was a continuous low rumble, but at times there were peals so loud they shook the house.

  I looked out a window into the darkness, and when lightning struck, I saw the half-dead, claw-like tree limbs fighting the wind; swaying one way then springing back only to sway again, and from time to time, what few leaves remained would blow away one by one.  I heard the beating against one side of the house as the wind blew the rain almost completely sideways.

  There was a window-rattling roll of thunder and a great flash of lightning, then everything went black, and not just outside.  The power had gone out.  It was getting better by the minute, and I could not help but smile.

  I had preferred not to be without my music, but I was willing to overlook the loss.  There was just something I loved about what was happening.  The darkness.  The lack of control.  It reminded me of the older times when people were more at odds with nature, and when it was dark they built a fire or lit a candle, so that is what I did.

  I knew the house well, therefore, had little difficulty moving through the darkness around the furniture to each of the thick, black candles and lighting them.  I stopped a moment to take in the candlelight, but quickly moved to the front door to open it and witness more of the wonderful tempest.  I stood in the doorway and was instantly mesmerized by the terrible, beautiful storm.

  I could hear the rain beating against the street and roof, but the moon was covered, and no one was risking driving in the weather, so I could see nothing for the utter darkness.  All was black and then lightning would display itself across the sky illuminating everything, and for that moment, every tree and house and parked car shined in its wetness.  Every drop of rain was a wet glow falling fast into a glowing ocean.  It was beautiful.

  My trance was broken when, during one display, I thought I saw a figure standing in the street before me.  I looked searchingly into the darkness until the next flash when I saw a person dressed in a long, black coat open to reveal black clothes beneath.  I could not tell if it was a male or female, but it stood straight with its hands in its coat pockets and its head lowered.  Wet hair almost covered its eyes, but I could tell they were looking at me.

  Everything went dark again, and I waited eagerly for the next flash, but when it came the figure was no longer there.  I stood in the doorway half watching the rest of the storm, consumed by thoughts of the figure, wondering why anyone would be standing in such weather and why that someone would just stand and stare at me.  I wondered also what the cemetery looked like during a storm that fierce.

  I had spent much time in the cemetery on nights when I became bored or lonely.  I would stand engraving into my mind the image of the landscape of moonlit headstones, or I would sit on the ground leaning against my favorite headstone and think about all the fears and grim thoughts people often attribute to graveyards.

  I never found the cemetery frightening.  I always found it too sacred and mysterious to be frightening.  All of the centuries of people who were buried there, how long ago had they died?  What lives did they lead?  Were they happy?  Were they lonely?

  I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the graveyard, standing where I had many times before in front of my favorite headstone.  It was my favorite because even though the stone did not seem so old, the name and dates of birth and death were worn to the point where I could not read them, but they were as if rubbed away, for the stone around remained untouched.  There was an epitaph that was worn as well except for the last word which read "LONELINESS".

  It all seemed so well done; no name, no birth or death to make much of.  What more of an epitaph would be needed?  And below the epitaph was an engraved picture of a face that appeared to be female.

  The picture was a single curved line which made up the forehead, nose, lips, and chin.  The features faced to the left, and at the right was an eye which yielded a single tear.

  I imagined myself looking across the graveyard and seeing, only by the grace of lightning, rain, glowing like drops of electricity beating against the granite and the ground, soaking deep to the coffins beneath, and the wind, like the dead, animated and howling in anger at the thunder for disturbing their peace.

  Then I imagined the dark figure standing before me in the distance, too far for me to make out the side of its face.  It stood during one flash, knelt during the next, and was running its fingers across the front of the headstone during the next.  Ultimately, the flash that followed revealed the figure to be gone.  I opened my eyes wondering what it meant.

  The storm calmed then came to a halt, and moments later all was covered in faint illumination, though all power was still out.  I stepped barefoot and shirtless into the cold, wet night and looked to the sky.

  The thick, black cloud remained covering the stars, but a hole had opened allowing the moon to shine through fuller and bigger and brighter than I had ever seen, lighting the place almost as well as any street lamp ever had.  The wind had died to nothing and all was silent except for the dripping of rainwater.

  There were still no cars out, and no dogs were barking, and except for the cold which began to make me shiver, it was a magnificent night, but in a way the cold somehow seemed to add to the beauty.  I decided that I had to go to the cemetery.  I had to see what it looked like.  It could not be anything but beautiful, and I wanted to be there to add to my collection of images.

  I walked with cold-numbed feet back into the house and picked up one of the lit candles to carry into my room so that I could see to get dressed.  I blew out the other candles and went into the bedroom.

  On that night I did not think of wearing any color except black; no other color would be appropriate.  I put on black clothes and shoes, pulled on my black, leather jacket and carried the glowing candled to the front door, blowing out the flame and setting the candle on the floor as I exited and shut the door.

  The midnight air was a bitter windless chill, stiff with the remnants of the storm, but still I anxiously made my way down the empty, shining wet street.  On my way I saw no one, the houses remained dark, and I heard nothing but the rainwater drops and my own footfalls.  I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the night air.  It was cold, but it was clean, and everything was at peace.

  Minutes later I stepped through the cemetery entrance and stood just inside looking over the carpet of grass laying under the weight of the rainwater that glowed in the moonlight.  Each headstone glistened as they spotted the sea of moonglow with their own faint shadows.  I took in every detail of the image from the shapes of the stones to the dead and leafless trees that contrasted with the ground.

  That is when I noticed the darkened trail through the grass before me leading from the entrance into the graveyard and turning to disappear among the many headstones.  Someone had walked through the grass, knocking the water from each blade on which they tred.  I had seen no one since the rain had stopped, and I felt that the only one it could be was the person I had seen earlier, the only other person that was out.

  I followed the dark trail into the depths of the graveyard, paying no mind to where I was going or where I had been, knowing only that I must follow the trail and find the person.  I stopped when before me I saw a person standing with back to me in a long, black coat.  I noticed that I was in an area of the cemetery that I was not familiar with, but I returned my attention to the figure as it knelt before a headstone.

  After a moment I carefully walked to the figure and peered over the shoulder, hoping to not disturb just yet, as the person ran their fingers across the front of the stone.  The figure's shadow cast by the moon prevented me from reading any engraved names or dates.

  "Hello," I said quietly.

  The hand withdrew slowly and I heard "Hello" returned in a soft female voice.  She put her hands in her coat pockets as she raised, still looking down at the stone.  "I've waited a long time for you."

  I was frozen in a state of confusion.  How could she have been waiting for me?  How could she have known that I had decided to go to the cemetery that night?  "Excuse me?"

  She turned, her head still down, and said, "I've been waiting a long time here for you."

  She lifted her face into the moonlight and looked into my eyes.  She was beautiful.  Her eyes were dark and full beneath her thick, black eyebrows.  Her jet-black hair gave the appearance of almost being stiff as it hung shining stylessly from her head to just below the nape of her neck in the back and to her eyebrows in the front.

  Though combed back, probably with just her fingers, a few ebon wisps hung over her forehead.  Her face was smooth and gentle and glowed softly in the moonlight in a sadness that it had worn long.  And on her left cheek a single tear glistened.

  "And now you're here."  Then the tear rolled slowly down her cheek leaving a thin, shining trail as it made its way to the corner of her mouth, then disappeared along the line where her full lips met.  She took her hands out of her pockets and drew closer wrapping her arms around me.  She closed her eyes and as her lips touch mine, my own eyes closed involuntarily.

  My physical senses left me as I felt the whole of the universe in my head like black, velvet wings taking flight.  I wrapped my arms around her tight and felt every love I had ever known or ever wanted to know.

  Far behind my eyes I saw swimming images of rain and lightning and gravestones and wet grass, swirling sounds of thunder and raindrops and every song I ever loved, joining in a blissful chaos that rolled smoothly into a single image of the two of us standing in kissing embrace.

  The image began to rush toward me, growing larger and louder until it twisted around my eyes, throwing them open as our lips parted.  I looked into her inkwell eyes and tasted the warm salty tear on the back of my lips, and as I swallowed the flavor the air seemed to lose its bitter chill.

  She came to my side, revealing the headstone before which she stood, and with one hand on my shoulder, she turned her gaze from my eyes to the stone.  I knelt and gazed entranced as the moonlight reflected brightly off the surface of the new granite, casting each freshly graven letter and number in its own shadow.

  I read my name, my date of birth, and that day's date.

  I stared for a moment in a strange comfort, feeling the rainwater from the grass soak into the knee of my pants.  I then looked at the epitaph below.  It read, "THOSE WHO WAIT FOR LOVE WILL FIND IT".

  I thought about the phrase for a moment, then felt her hand squeeze my shoulder.  I rested my hand atop hers looking up at her and for the first time saw a delicate smile on her face.  I returned the smile realizing that I had waited long for love and that I had found it that night.  I stood and we embraced once again before making our way through the graveyard.

  As we walked we came upon my favorite headstone, and we both paused and knelt.  I saw that some of the words had returned to the aged stone as if freshly cut.  Only the first of the name had returned and it read, "RAVEN".  I looked to her, and she smiled and kissed my forehead.  All of the epitaph had returned to reveal, "TO FIND TRUE LOVE, YOU MUST FIRST FIND LONELINESS".  I then looked down at the engraved face and saw that the tear had disappeared.