She
No one witnessed the impact that threw them apart.
As the sun fell behind the naked trees a single ray danced on her face demanding attention. She awoke to a breeze fluttering her brown hair. Her eyes glittered in the fading light.
“Where are you?”
She could only move her head against the entangling white material.
His call came again but this time like a distant dream. She relaxed and slept.
He
He lost track of the distance between himself and the wreck, all he could see was the middle of nowhere. A mirage shimmered in the distance, he laughed. Every step took him closer to the watchtowers of the fortress walls. The apparition did not disappear, his spirits soared.
She
The parachute slapped her face, waking her with a start.
“Hello?”
Silence and stillness reigned, interrupted only by what the breeze ruffled. She called out again as she disentangled herself from the white material and staggered to her feet.
“Is anyone there?”
When the echo continued to answer, she wept.
He
They ushered him through the fortress walls, an adobe village rose inside. He looked around in wonder, and they wondered about him. With each handshake, hug and kind word from the strangers who appeared and disappeared, he eased a little more into their world.
They led him to a tunnel lined with dark blue tiles, lit by the sky on the other side, and pointed him to the shower head halfway down. Left alone, he ambled towards the sky.
She
She couldn’t find him, she couldn’t find anyone. It was a full flight yet there was no sign of people or their things. She was lost in time.
He
Steam from the shower clouded around him. He closed his eyes and washed the dirt from his chest, the days of walking from his feet, the wreckage from his hair, and his failure to find her from his face. Tears mingled with water, and when he opened his eyes a blond woman stood before him.
The woman met his gaze and floated closer. He raised his hand to stop her but the woman pressed against him. His wife was gone, his will was weak.
She
She found cold, raw, rotting food that survived the crash. With no sign of a search party she prepared for an uncertain journey.
He
The villagers appeared happier than when he first arrived. Everyone smiled when he passed with the blond woman like together they were important. Days melted into each other as they spent time on the terraces watching the lonely horizon. He stopped believing his wife had somehow survived and a tentative peace settled over him.
She
It was the only road. She walked steady and calm with the parachute tightly packed on her back.
The adobe wall rose from the sand. She followed the road into the shadow of the great wall. It was sheer and tall, she couldn’t climb, there had to be another way. There was.
An abandoned entrance got her into the bowels of the village. The place was damp, full of puddles, and a maze of tunnels with stairwells leading up.
She found a staircase level with the horizon but still below the terraces. Every evening just as the sun set, two elderly women came to seal the stairwell. Alone as she was, the constancy of the sunset ritual comforted her.
Every day she moved another step up gauging, looking for potential danger. One day, just four steps from the open entrance, she leaned against the wall and listened to the terraces come alive in slow increments. A constant babbling lulled her into a quiet remembrance of a life that was.
One voice rose above the rest, a shock went through her. It was him.
A rustling sound caused her to look up to a man dressed in white. He knelt down, peeking into the darkened stairwell, and smiled.
She explained about her husband and begged for his help. “Please, let him know I’m here.”
The man nodded and disappeared from view to talk to the wrong man. He reappeared haloed by the bright sky and explained that her husband was not among them.
She held back tears and nodded in thanks. Leaning back to back with her husband, separated by an adobe wall, and a misunderstanding.
She returned to the road.
The sun danced between the distant trees but darkness wouldn’t wait much longer. The wind became restless.
She walked and pulled the ripcord, letting the white material unravel. The sun watched from one side, the adobe wall from the other, the parachute dragged on the road behind, and she walked ahead.
The white material convulsed, filled with breath, dragged her back, pulled her up, and carried her to her fate.
He
He stopped talking and rose, guided by a force stronger than himself. When he reached the waist high terrace wall, he searched the horizon. Something white disappeared into a dark patch. A pang of grief doubled him over, leaving him gripping the wall.
That night he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, dreaming of her. She wore a white silky sheet that moved like a wave on the sand. She walked, he followed. She turned, he stopped. She walked on.
In the morning he rose before the others.
She
The parachute accelerated with unexpected speed. Her eyes widened as she watched the fast approaching trees which had long left their delicate leaves behind. The naked woods became silhouettes of tall, thin, figures standing in groups. Deadly arms and fingers spread out, grabbing at the surrounding space, stopping anything from reaching their core.
She suppressed a scream when she saw they were ready to fight, willing to impale a lost soul.
He
The blond woman sat before him cross-legged.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
He nodded.
“You must understand...” The blond woman continued but he wasn’t listening.
He said his goodbyes and walked down the road. The trees called him away from the adobe walls that once embraced him but now melted back into the sand.
Her presence grew stronger and in the midst of the unforgiving trees, he felt her near. A flapping from above snapped his head up to the white cloth she wore in his dream. He searched beneath the piles of fallen leaves, calling to her. The parachute continued to flutter until a strong current caught the material and wrestled something free, throwing it to the ground. His eyes went to the object, her shoe. He raised his head just in time for the breeze to sweep the white cloth away from the branches and reveal their prize.
His heart caught in this throat when he saw her limp, lifeless, a decorative bauble.
Unable to reach her, he listened to the branches move in the howling wind, making the sound of laughter.
He followed the road back and returned to the adobe village but it was empty. The words of the blond woman came back to him.
“You will find this place again, but you will not find us.”
He walked over all the terraces and still no one came.
“You came here like the rest of us, in shock from the crash.”
He found the place he often sat, watching the horizon.
“If you leave, you will not return alive.”
On the deep blue nights lit only by the stars, they know the sound of the wailing wind is the man who weeps for what he lost.