The Colors of Faith (continued)

"Hello...?" The girl asks hesitantly. Lowell looks around, and then looks back at the girl.

"Hi. I was just running and..." the boys voice drifts off as he sees her foggy eyes and realizes that she cannot see. Her eyes rest in his direction nonetheless.

"Were you following the fence?" She asks.

"Yeah, I guess so. I just wanted to go a little farther today.

"Why is that?" She wraps her arms around herself as a brisk wind floats past. He hesitates, but then steps closer.

"Small town life can be-er-constricting at times. I come out here to breathe."

"That's nice," she says. Lowell looks back through the curtain of trees and she asks him what his name is.

"Lowell. Yours?"

"I don't know." Lowell smiles, then chuckles so she'll know he found her "joke" amusing.

"No, really, I don't know my name yet." He examines her face, trying to understand someone so different.

"Really?"

"Really. Can I ask you a question, Lowell?"

"Shoot." Her brow furrows.

"Where did you come from? Just now I mean. What's over there?" She gestures to her right, over his shoulder. He looks at what she cannot see: the pine trees and their green needles, the brown needles that carpet the rustic floor. He thinks for a moment:

She can't see any of this. She can't see this fence, this wire barrier separating us, maybe even our worlds from one another. She can't see me.

"I came from over there, you are right. But I don't want to talk about that, okay? I want to talk about me; I want to talk about you. I want to know why you aren't afraid of me, why you don't wonder what I look like." She turns her face to the side and silvery-blonde strands of hair conceal the side of her pale face from him. She remains in this position for a moment before brushing her hair away and staring at him, again, in her own sightless way.

"I want to know about you; I want to know about me. The thing is, I want to know where I came from and I just thought that knowing where you came from would maybe help me discover where I came from." She pauses, then adds: "And I do wonder what you look like." They stand in silence. Then she reaches out her hands. "Show me." He steps up to the fence, grabs her hands and then places them on either side of his face. Her nose wrinkles.

"Why is it damp and slick?" She asks.

"I have been running. It's sweat," Lowell answers. Her lips tighten into a half smile. She feels the rest of his face gently.

"Is this your ear?"

"Yeah."

"And your hair?"

"Yep."

"What does it look like? Is it like mine?" She asks.

"Well it is considerably shorter and darker," he responds.

"Darker?" It takes him a moment to realize she needs an explanation.

"You know those moments you sometimes come across while walking outside? A sudden warmth on your skin?" She nods. "Your hair is like those moments; mine is like all the rest."

Lowell and the girl talk. They talk about life and his home and about songs and about beauty. At one point Lowell stops talking and starts thinking.

"I'm afraid," he admits.

"Why are you afraid? she asks. They sit back to back on opposite sides of the fence.

"Because I fear that you aren't real, that I'm making you up. What if I come back tomorrow and it turns out you are totally a figment of my imagination and I'm really a messed up guy with hallucinations." She doesn't respond. "You are the only person I have ever loved, the only person who has ever loved me. I never want to go back to the time before I had someone who cared. Before there was you."

She turns to face him and says:

"There's no way to prove my existence to you. I just know that I am not from your mind. I know that I exist outside of you. I do not know why or how, I just know that I do. So we will both have to have faith. There are a lot of people who love you, Lowell. They just haven't found you yet."

to be continued...

Lydia