Page 13 of Phoenix Fire

“Yes, but I doubt that I'll sleep very much.”

“And why is that?”

“Too excited about tomorrow, the afternoon part of tomorrow.”

“I'm excited about it, too, but you sleep. I don't want you sleepwalking as I'm showing you “Apple Brown Betty.'”

“I will sleep. Promise. See you tomorrow at noon in front of my building. I'll be waiting. And, thank you, Jason.”

“No, I thank you, pretty lady.”

Jenny sat for a long time after the call from Jason, looking out her bedroom window into the night sky. The moon had made its way around and its bottom arc was visible now just below the upper edge of the window pane. It was no longer 'lonely as Sunday.'

It was something else. She scanned her brain for an apt phrase that might sum up the warmth and wonder of her joy. Immediately, as though sped on the silent wind through the starry night to her waiting lips, it came. The phrase came. It was a phrase uttered by an obscure little silk-winding girl named Pippa in Robert Browning's poem called Pippa Passes: “God's in his heaven. All's right with the world.” Why that particular poem had come to Jenny, she could not say. She had studied England's most noteworthy Victorian poet in a favored college course and remembered the oft quoted line.

Yes, that seemed to say it very well.

As sleep began to come in heavier folds upon her warm thoughts of Jason, Jenny pulled a pillow next to her body and embraced it with a long sigh.

Chapter Nine

A haze lay upon the distant mountaintops like a surreal shroud. The light and shadows dipped and caressed the boulders and wide canyons.

There was something majestic and primordial in the view. It occurred to Jenny Mason that it was insufficient to classify such an awesome vista as simply, 'pretty.' It was more poetically deserving than her mundane words. Such beauty surely deserved more than just mere ephemeral acknowledgment. It deserved a giant hug, a kiss, something given back to it for its being there in its exquisite and strangely haunting beauty. Jenny loved these pristine desert mountains and their ageless wonders tugged at her in wistful ways.

Jason inserted a CD and the music seemed to mix with the beauty of the landscape outside the car to produce a biding state of euphoria.

Jenny sighed, rolled her head away from the seat's backrest to look at Jason. “What is that lovely music? I've never heard it before.”

“It's called, Dusk. It's my number two favorite riding companion,” Jason said with a smile.

“It is beautifully haunting. Oh, and what occupies number one your favorite riding companion list?”

“Not, 'what.' It's 'who' and the 'who' is you.”

“Really!” She lightly touched his shoulder, returned his smile. “To think! I beat out 'Dusk.' That's very nice.”

“Well, don't get too carried away,” he teased, “the voting was very close. Besides, the Chinese food has sated you and made you easily pliable.”

“Uh-huh. I suppose that has something to do with it.”

They sat in easy silence for a moment as the music played. Jason kept his speed just below sixty miles per hour. They were in no hurry. There was comfort and warmth in their shared space.

Then, Jenny spoke again, to finish a thought that was left in abeyance. “The great food, the ride, the marvelous views, 'Dusk,' and, to large measure, you, sir, all have me spellbound.” She gave Jason a cute school girl eye flutter.

“Seriously, though,” she continued her monologue, “a moment ago, looking at those mountains, I had an odd and wonderful feeling. It's kind of hard to explain, really, but it was a sense that something from a long ago time was trying to get through to me, like, some ancient wanderlust. The mountaintops out there in their shimmering haze brought some sort of, umm, a sort of ancestral impulse, like, the scene was speaking to me from the past, trying to give up some of its secrets. Pretty dumb, huh?”

“No more Chinese food, lady.”

They laughed.

Jenny went on, “Oh, I know it must sound loony and weird. It was just a good feeling that swept over me and, darn it, I wish I could describe it better. Listen, do you have any idea what I'm trying to say here? If you do, for goodness sake, help me out. Help me stop fumbling about.”

“You know I believe that I do.” Jason said. “It's maybe a soulful response, a sort of déj? vu, a subtle linking with the eons. Beauty can at times, I believe, make such a flash upon the soul to almost render the mind numb to explain it. But, then, of course, you're a very open and caring person. You're more vulnerable, more susceptible, than most.”

Jenny's face showed a dubious and playful frown. “How do you know that I'm more vulnerable and more susceptible than most? Are you a part time psychiatrist?”

Jason chuckled. “Jenny, you must remember, I went through a lightning strike with you – I was so close, some of it might have passed through me, giving me these amazing powers of observation. But, really, you had an 'out of body' experience that was very real for you. You are not wary about showing your emotions. You are a person who has a higher degree of susceptibility than most, and that's good, not bad. That's just my perception of you. Seriously, does it bother you that I'm sharing these observations?”

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