Chapter Two

I had to take small steps as the path leading down the hill became steeper. I held on to a protruding rock with my left hand and lowered my right leg to the ground. A trail of smoke was blowing away from the cottage. Then the smoke and cottage faded and were gone. I sat up in bed. I wished I could make sense of the strange dreams I kept having and the absence of the hawk. I felt like it had abandoned me.

I had given up on my meditation, as I usually did and instead tried to cheer myself up with food, chili con carne take-out from my favorite restaurant. I hoped that would make me feel better. I climbed up the steps to my apartment, put the restaurant packet down and opened the door. Before I switched the light on, I noticed something odd. I reached down for the packet. It looked like there were glistening slivers or shards on the floor. I tilted my head to the side as my stomach began to tense. I lifted my arm and flipped the light switch.

It was glass and it covered the living room floor. I took a step backward. The balcony door had a huge hole in the center with broken shards of glass forming sharp points. I reached for my phone and then let go of it in my bag. Droplets of blood were splattered on the ground together with the glass. I inched into the living room to see if I could see anything else.

“Oh my God!” I cried out and dropped the take-away packet.

Laying on the ground, covered in blood, was the majestic bird of prey. I leapt closer to the hawk and knelt down. It was moving, but its eyes were closed. I fetched a towel, gently wrapped the bird in it and put it on the coffee table. I located the closest vet on my mobile and was about to dial the number, when a voice spoke in my head.

“No,” it said, “Only you.”

I cast my gaze around the room, but there was no one there except me and the bird. I looked down at it. Its eyes were still closed.

“I trust only your hands,” the voice continued.

I could not hear the words with my ears. They were only inside my head. Where had the voice come from? Was I going mad? Then a sense of calm and certainty flooded my mind. I stood up slowly and knew what to do. I unwrapped the towel and looked closer at the bird’s body. There were many cuts on its breast and sides and it looked like feathers were missing too. There was a deep gouge across its beak. I lit some incense, fetched my bag of crystals and placed the stones around the bird. Then I brought my hands slowly closer to its body. I held them just above the hawk, over the deep cuts and moved them slowly to different parts of its body. At first it remained still as my hands hovered over it. I thought perhaps it had died. Then I saw a wing twitch as my hands hovered over a patch where feathers were missing. It seemed to be responding to the energy. I prayed it would not die. After three healing sessions, I was drained. I sat back and looked at the bird. I hoped it would make it through the night and that I had done the right thing, not taking it to the vet.

~*~

I fell asleep on the single armchair and was awoken by the sunlight before my alarm the next morning. My eyelids were heavy and uncooperative. They opened slowly and then suddenly snapped open when I remembered the bird.

I looked over at the table but it was empty. I sat up straight and only then noticed something on the armchair in the far corner of the room. I jumped up, screamed and ran behind the kitchen counter.

“Wh-who are you?” I whispered from behind the counter.

There was no reply. I picked up my mobile from inside my bag and dialed 911. He didn’t move.

“I-I have an intru-” I stammered.

Then his eyes slowly began to open.

“Mam-mam, are you still there?” the 911 operator responded.

Then he closed his eyes again. His otherwise naked body lay draped with a bloodied towel over his hips.

“I won’t hurt you, Layla.”

His mouth had not moved as he spoke. I hung up the call and slowly put the phone down on the kitchen counter. He still didn’t move. I took a step into the living room, still keeping my distance from this strange, naked man on my armchair. Where was the hawk, I wondered. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t feel threaten by this man in my apartment.

I ventured even closer. Then I noticed his olive skin was damaged in places. He had cuts across his chest and arms. My feet edged nearer. Then I saw his face more clearly. He had wavy brown hair, a strong jaw line and sharp nose. His nose had a deep cut on it too. What was he doing here? What had happened to him? I reached my hand towards him and then quickly withdrew it, as his chest rose suddenly. His eyes were still closed. His legs were stretched out and reached to the rug. He must have been over six foot tall. My eyes drew back to his bare chest and well-defined abdominal muscles.

I collapsed down onto the armchair I had slept on and stared at the injured man. It was the same voice I had heard when I was trying to help the hawk. I looked at the hole in the balcony door. It looked the same. The bird would not have been able to maneuver through without getting seriously injured.

He moved his hand up onto his stomach. His fist was closed, like he was clasping something in his hand. I leaned closer. It was one of my crystals, the Agate, a very powerful stone. I knew that ancient civilizations used Agates in amulets for protection and I had always felt a close connection with the stone. It was no wonder the stranger had chosen the strength-bringing and protection crystal to grasp.

Then I remembered another crystal I felt a close link to and felt compelled to see it again. I walked to my bedroom and took down the velvet pouch from the bookshelf. I gently emptied the pouch on my bed and found the stone I was looking for. I held it in my hand and closed my eyes. I slowed my breathing and tried as best as I could to clear my mind. But nothing happened. I took a slow deep breath in and exhaled a slow, controlled breath. The crystal began to warm up in my hand. If the Native American Indians and Mayans could use it in sacred communication, why wasn’t it working for me, I wondered. Being impatient wouldn’t help. I let my doubts flow out of my mind as they came in and my body began to feel lighter.

“Thank you,” a voice suddenly communicated in my head.

It worked! The Azurite stone worked. It did help to boost psychic abilities. Was the communication from him though, I wondered. I put the stone in my pocket and returned to the living room. The man hadn’t moved and his eyes were still closed. Maybe I’d imagined the voice again, I thought.

“No, Layla,” the voice said, “don’t doubt yourself and your abilities.”

~*~

I could not keep my mind from drifting back to his words. His words in my head!

“What’s up with you?” one of my colleagues asked.

She handed me a pile of books and turned back to serve a customer.

I grinned and looked away quickly. “Nothing.”

I had insisted on cleaning his wounds the day before. My hand pressed gently on his skin with a cotton wool swab. I dabbed it on a deep cut which ran over his pectoral muscle. The muscle twitched and I drew quickly back. He smiled at me and nodded his head. He had still not said anything to me, at least not in a voice I could hear with my ears.

I had found a pair of sweat pants for him to wear, left behind by an old boyfriend. They were a bit short, but more appropriate than a bath towel at least! Once his wounds were cleaned, I had him lie down on the three-seater sofa. I placed my hands an inch above his skin and slowly worked over his wounds and the rest of his body. I could feel his energies change after a few minutes.

“You are a good healer, Layla,” he said, in my head.

“How do you know my name?” I asked verbally.

I didn’t think I was capable of communicating the way he did.

“It’s not important,” he replied.

His answers were always cryptic and the less he said, the more I babbled about myself.

“I’ve always preferred books to people,” I said, “They make far better company.”

My colleague interrupted my reverie, once again.

“What’s his name, Layla?” she asked in an affected mocking tone and smiled.

I swiveled my head quickly in her direction and frowned.

“Oh come on,” she continued, “It must be a man!”

I looked down at the keyboard. “No, it’s nothing.”

My cheeks began to grow warmer as I thought of his bare, muscular chest. I still didn’t understand how he didn’t feel the cold, as the heating wasn’t great in my old apartment.

“Hmm, really?” she continued and giggled.

I stared intently at the computer screen and was glad when a customer handed me a book a second later.

As usual, I sped back home. I couldn’t spend another second away from him. At least he had begun to eat small portions of fruit. I was glad he was beginning to heal. I watched him lean forward and pick a handful of purple grapes from the bunch, but he grimaced when he moved.

“What happened to you?” I asked again.

He had refused to tell me so far.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, “I’m just glad I found you.”