Chapter Sixty-one

THE ANDERCHRONICLES

By Me, Ellee

[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact

[Second Warning: Now we all know springtime is a magical time of the year. A time when Mother Earth finally admits winter just isn't working any longer and decides she needs to make a few changes—like a whole new color pallet. The drab browns and grays of winter have become so boring even the gray titmouse sports a new wardrobe of yellow and blue plummage. It's that time of year when you look out the window and what do you see?—Popcorn popping on the apricot tree. So what does all this have to do with the Warning? Not much, except, given the magical capabilities of springtime, be careful you don't get caught up in this story and think the characters are real. We all know they aren't. Right? HEY! Go take your Prozac!

"Springtime Magic"

It happened so fast I just didn’t see it coming—I suddenly found myself looking up at blue sky—Andy had carried me beside the lake, beneath the trees and laid me down among all those golden daffodils, which were fluttering, and . . . well . . . quite frankly, I have to admit, actually dancing in the breeze.

The balmy air on that spring day was wrapping us in a light blanket of warmth as Andy stretched his long frame beside me, propping himself up on his elbow. He looked down at me and smiled one of his dimpled smiles. Then reaching across me, he picked a daffodil and lightly brushed it over my lips and along my neck, finally placing it behind my ear.

“Ellee,” he began, lying back to sink into his own carpet of flowers, hands under his head, eyes sweeping the skies, “have you ever seen, felt or heard a more perfect day?” He took a slow, lazy breath and sighed contentedly. “Now breathe . . . just breathe it all in.” His voice was soothing and lulling. “Let it become part of your soul. Close your eyes and listen to its sounds—a lackadaisical breeze whispering through young leaves, mimicking the tintinnabulation of a million little wind chimes; the sweet warblings of baby birds excited for momma bird to return; the docile lapping of the lake, as it tamely pushes ashore, then retreats; pushes ashore, then retreats, over and over, the virtual heartbeat of the lake, rhythmically setting the mood. Do you hear it, Ellee? Do you feel it?”

“I hear it . . . I feel it . . . it’s . . . it’s . . . Springtime Magic, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Ellee, it’s part of . . . the gift .”

We lay there, quiet, not stirring, more than willing to experience everything the gift was giving. Nothing else mattered at that moment. It was the perfect day in spring; the sun wasn’t yet too hot, and the air was no longer chilled. The colors were new and the scents intoxicating. Springtime Magic . . . I wanted it to go on forever.

After several minutes, I turned on my side and propped myself up on my elbow to look at Andy. The sun filtering through tender leaves overhead was creating lacework on his face. His eyes were closed. He seemed truly relaxed and at peace. His breathing was easy and rhythmic, like the gently breaking water I could hear slapping at the tiny beach. I had never felt so contented, and I daresay, neither had he.

Then I noticed it—that silvery little fluff of hair just above his forehead, perfectly brushed to one side, not a single platinum strand daring to be any place but there. All at once, I don’t know what came over me, but I had this crazy desire to see it all messed up. So, I reached over and quickly ruffled my fingers through it, enticing it to go where it wasn’t allowed. Andy raised one eyelid halfway and shot a sideways glance at me.

“Ellee, what are you doing?” Then he caught hold of my wrist and wouldn’t let go.

“Andy, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that little tuft of hair all messed up.”

“So . . . you just felt the need to mess it up?” His grip tightened.

“Yeah . . . actually I did,” I confessed, giggling.

He pursed his lips to one side, both eyes wide open by now, and said, "hmmmmmm . . . well, okaaaay . . .” a mischievous glint stole across his eyes, “. . . just maybe I want to see your hair all messed up, too . . .”

And before I could stop him, he had dropped my wrist, plunging both hands into my long hair and began tousling it every which way, knocking the daffodil to the ground.

“Andeeeeeeee!” I censured.

“Hey! You did it to me!”

“But you’re not supposed to do it to me!”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Because why?”

“Just because, that’s why!”

Then he knocked my arm out from under me, and I fell backwards into the daffodils once again. He was giggling and still flipping my poor tresses all over my head. AND furthermore, he was enjoying it.

“Andeeeee, STOP!” I squealed.

But he didn’t stop—not until my face was buried in my hair. I couldn’t see anything. All of a sudden it got really quiet, and then,

“Elleeeee . . . oh Ellee . . . where did you go?” But I didn’t respond.

“Elllllleeeeeee . . .”

From the slow, deliberate and melodic enunciation of each syllable of my name, I could tell he was up to something . . . Excitement cascaded. Then I felt strands of hair moving slowly across my face as he cleared it away from my mouth.

“Well, well, well . . . look what I found! Why, these are . . . well, my goodness . . . they’re Ellee’s lips.”

At the mention of lips, that tongue of mine, completely on its own, made a tiny little sweep over my bottom lip—just milliseconds before something warm and soft closed over both my lips, and wouldn’t let go for the longest time. I just knew it was part of that Springtime Magic Andy had promised me. And what magic it was!—a springtime kiss— one I was certain he could never, ever deny! I knew in my heart there was no way this kiss was just a kiss-of- the-season sort of thing.

When it was over, silence ensued once again. During this time my mind raced ahead. What would he do next? Then when suspense had finally reached a crescendo, I felt more strands of hair sliding across my face, only this time it was my nose being uncovered, and then all at once Andy exclaimed,

“Now look what I’ve found! Ahhhh, isn’t that the cutest little Ellee nose you’ve ever seen?” And he began planting tiny butterfly kisses all over my nose as his arms slipped around me.

Butterfly kisses always tickle and I couldn’t help giggling. Then he did, too, when my arms pulled him closer so I could give him some tiny butterfly kisses—under his left ear and all around his neck, especially under his chin next to his Adam’s apple. We snickered and teheed. And then we laughed and giggled. Until, all at once, he brushed the remaining strands of hair from my face, revealing my blue, blue eyes, which surely must have been sparkling like the finest of blue diamonds at that moment, because the exact second our eyes made contact, his lit up brighter than Fourth of July fireworks, and it was only a matter of nanoseconds before Springtime Magic took over and wove a spell that neither of us could or would ever deny.

“Ellee, my Sweet,” he finally whispered in my ear, his warm breath causing tingles to ripple and swirl, “I have a surprise for you.”

“For me, Andy? I simply LOVE surprises!”

At that he scrambled to his feet, pulling me with him, then reached into his back pocket producing a small, silver metallic sack, which he quickly handed to me and said,

“Here, open this.”

“What is it, Andy?”

“Oh, just a little something.”

But that little something turned out to be another diamond bracelet.

“But Andy, I already have a diamond bracelet. Remember? You gave me one on Valentine.”

“Ellee, this isn’t a bracelet!” he corrected, taking the little string of diamonds from my hands. “ Let me show you. Give me your foot.”

He then knelt down on his right knee, and reached for my left foot, placing it on top of his other knee. After fidgeting with the tiny clasp for several seconds, he encircled my ankle with the lovely chain of sparkling diamonds.

“That my dear Ellee is an anklet,” he finally revealed, his gaze traveling up to mine. “You don’t have one of those, do you?”

“No . . . but . . . Oh Andy, it’s beautiful, and you’re so sweet to me, but . . . well, don’t you think you’ve given me enough diamonds?”

“No, not yet,” came his answer, a serious look settling over him. He slowly rose to his feet, his gaze never losing contact with me. “There’s still one more, Ellee.” His eyes were sparkling like real glitter.

He reached into his front pocket, slowly withdrawing something black and velvet, a small little box with a hinged lid, that could only mean one thing. When I realized what that one thing was, my heart began pumping blood into my anterior vena cava so fast and furious that my aorta took to doing some kind of dance in my neck. And when Andy picked up my hand and placed the ring box softly and gently on my palm, I choked on a big gasp.

I stared at that box for a long time, not actually allowing myself to believe what I was thinking. Was Andy really giving me a diamond ring? That box was like a million other boxes I’d seen which contain rings, and since he said there was still one more, meaning a diamond, well . . . I could only come to one conclusion. But was it the right conclusion? Or was this all just one of my hallucinations? When I didn’t say anything or make any attempt to open the ring box, Andy nudged me and said,

“Aren’t you going to open it, Ellee?”

His voice had yanked me back to reality—reality? Was this truly the REAL thing? I looked up at him questioningly. The confused look on his face was mirroring my confusion. I took in every square inch of his face to see if I could determine whether this was indeed real. It seemed real. It looked real. I reached up and stroked his cheek with the back of my hand. I let my fingers trace the outline of his lips and nose. He felt real enough. But was this real?

“Andy . . . I . . . I . . .”

“Ellee . . . go ahead. Why are you waiting?”

Indeed . . . why was I waiting? I had to open it sooner or later, and sooner or later I would discover the reality which was enclosed within that little black velvet box.

Bye for now,
Love,
Ellee