I wrote this at the end of summer 2006. It was originally inspired by a real Japanese garden, but turned out to be something like a retelling of the beauty and the beast in some ways. Granted, it's going to need editing, but I hope that you'll enjoy and comment on it regardless.
The strangeness of that summer began in the earliest weeks of June. School was over for the year and I had three solid months to do whatever I wanted. So it began, with me about to step into the weirdest and most miraculous thing that had ever happened to me; or anyone else in the world, for that matter.
Not even two miles away from where I lived was a beautiful Japanese garden. I had it all to myself, it seemed sometimes, and all within easy driving distance. Not long after the last day of school, I made up my mind to use my newly acquired driver’s license and drive down to the garden to read or maybe snap a few photos for the summer art project that I was working on.
I drove the dependable; if not a little outdated, green station wagon my parents lent to me and cruised down to the garden. I parked in a spot I thought would be well shaded, locked the car, paid the three dollar student entry fee, and listened to the girl at the window as she handed me a map and told me where I needed to start.
I’d been there so many times that I didn’t need to look at the map as I made my way down the gravel path, through the golden entry gate, onto another gravel path, and down to a massive pond filled with Koi, grass carp, and other fish.
It was my absolute favorite place in the whole garden and I could sit in the open sided observing house for as long as I wanted. I took out a book and lost myself in its pages.
Over the next couple of hours, I was absorbed by the beautiful afternoon. Birds sang in the trees around me, their leaves shone and shook like tiny coins as the wind blew through them. The water of the little lake rippled softly as a school of black baby carp darted through the water. All of the larger Koi had disappeared for some reason.
In the wooden floor of the viewing house was a rock, cut out and sunk below the paneling. Sticks of incense were placed inside and left to burn, it was soothing and I didn’t pursue the mystery any further; was pulled deeper into my book.
I was vaguely aware of touristy older people coming and going; taking photos and making comments and conversations that were much louder than they should have been. Finally, after the last group had gone for a while, I happened to glance down towards the waters edge. Staring up at me with big, watery, blue eyes was the largest Koi I’d ever seen.
It was absolutely massive, I think nearing about two feet in length, and was completely white except for gold and black blotches randomly stamped on its body.
I merely thought it had gathered enough courage to break through the water’s surface long enough to catch a glimpse of the humans that dared look at his watery kingdom. I expected it to dive back down after a few seconds, but the fish stayed where it was; its glassy gaze fixed on me.
I laughed and got down on all fours, worming my way down on my belly to the water’s edge.
“Are you looking at me,” I asked.
It just stared, unmoved, and opened its fishy mouth to reply: “Yes.”
I blinked and laughed again, realized the insense was causing me to hallucinate, and to my disbelief asked, “What did you just say to me?”
“I said yes,” the fish’s mouth popping and wheezing, “Will you…meet…me…tonight?” It dove back down to fill its gills with more oxygen from the water. It surfaced again and asked one more time, “Will…you…meet…me?”
“Sure,” I said gruffly, this hallucination was quickly becoming irksome.
The fish turned and splashed a wave of water on me with a powerful whap of its tail. It hit me in the face and the fish disappeared.
I grumbled under my breath and worked my way through the rest of the garden. I had no idea why I was so agitated and unnerved. That didn’t happen; it couldn’t possibly have; so why did it bother me so much?
The sky grew soft, the sun going down. The garden was closing. This made no sense at all; it was only morning when I arrived! How long did I sit there before the fish came? No more than an hour or two. How long did our conversation last? Five minutes maybe, not five hours!
Shaken, I left for the parking lot, got in my car and drove home. When asked what had kept me all day by my parents, I lied and said that I’d gotten caught up in something. Actually, I didn’t lie, now that I think about it; I was caught up in something, I just didn't know it yet.
We ate dinner and afterward I went up to my room to read for a while.
I’d said I would go back and see the fish that night, but I never actually meant it. Honestly, it was only an illusion. Suddenly tired, I pulled on an overlarge t-shirt and crawled into bed.
Now, I would be lying to you if I said that I never dream. Everyone dreams, we just don’t always remember them when we wake up. I’ll say this then; I had a dream that night, one that I would remember the next morning and every morning after for years to come.
I was in a field of white nothingness all around; except for what was in the center of it all, right in front of me.
It was a small pond, lined with rocks. A stone bench was adjacent to it, shaded by a large bonsai tree that was held upright by a boulder. I wandered over and had a seat on the bench, noticing that there was still enough room for another person.
The water in the pond began to bubble, the bubbles becoming a geyser, the geyser assuming human form. It stopped, went down and the pond settled, leaving a man standing on top of the water.
Even from that short a distance, his features were blurred; but I could tell that he wore a soft smile, he had been waiting. The man stepped forward.
“Who are you,” I asked.
“I was the koi in the pond you saw today,” he replied in a smooth, warm voice that sounded genuinely happy to see me. My heart quickened a little. He stepped closer to me again.
“What’s your name,” I asked, failing to hide the slight quiver in my voice.
“You must choose,” he answered, his blurry smile faded just a little.
I thought hard, the mood had changed and everything seemed so urgent now. I scrolled down through all the names I knew, mainly from books that I had read; but only one of them seemed to fit.
“Your name…is Gabriel, isn’t it,” I ventured.
He smiled and nodded; said, “What is your name?”
“Beth,” I answered, and I looked into his blurred face. Those fuzzy eyes held emotion, something that could have been taken for love. The logical part of me didn’t trust it, so I turned away.
“Do you what you see me as,” he held out his arm to me. I faced him again and saw him clearly this time. His eyes, mouth, nose, hair, everything was perfect; to perfect. Inhuman.
“No,” I said, “Because it isn’t you.”
The last thing I saw was his sad perfect smile. Then I woke up.
Another week went by before I dreamed of Gabriel again. This time, the white space was filled entirely with sunflowers; my favorite flower. He was waving to me from the bench. I waded through the sea of flora to him.
He was different this time. No where near as perfect, but truer somehow.
“You look like yourself,” I told him. Gabriel broke into a broad smile and wrapped his arms around me.
“Thank you for the flowers, Gabriel. Did you know they are my favorite?”
“Yes, I know you.”
As the summer wore on, my dreams of Gabriel became more frequent. Each time I came, he seemed more alive; more real to me. We talked for hours about anything we could think of.
Sometimes I found I had a book with me and I would read it to him. Or he would read to me. I loved the sound of his voice, I loved the time we spent together, I loved him; and that was the frightening part.
On the last night of summer, I was with him again. Something was different though, more pressed and tense. Gabriel seemed nervous. I was reading one of my favorite books to him when he stopped me.
“Beth,” he called softly.
I closed the book, “What is it Gabriel? Something doesn’t feel right, you look scared. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Beth,” he paused and took a long, slow breath, “I don’t want to frighten you, but depending on what you say this could be the last time you see me.
“I’m not sure what I am exactly. I’m no fish, I’m almost human; almost. I’m nearly real, Beth. I don’t know much about how the magic works or even what I’m supposed to do; except to love and be loved by summer’s end.”
“What will happen if you don’t,” I asked cautiously.
“I will be trapped here,” he said quietly, “And I will die before the month is over. I will be beyond saving if I fail.”
“Can I do anything to help you,” I asked.
“Do you love me, Beth,” he moved towards me, like in the first dream. But this time his voice was melancholy.
I paused, knowing what to say but unable to speak it.
“Beth,” he pleaded, “Please answer, there’s not much time.”
My mouth opened to say something but logic cautioned me not to. I’d known this dream man for just three months, but then, that’s all he was; a dream.
“Beth, please answer. Do you love me?”
“I hardly know you,” I said weakly, logic had won over heart, “How could I love you?”
I looked up; the dream had already begun to fade. Gabriel’s face was the only clear thing left, his smile tinted with sadness. The worst of it was that he didn’t even look angry; he looked so…accepting about what I had done to him.
“Gabriel,” I cried, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that! I love you, it’s all right now!” But it was too late, I was already wide awake.
The month passed, school started, but I could never get his face out of my mind, or what he had said in that last dream.
“I’ll be trapped here,” he had told me, “And I will die before the month is over.”
The last night in September, I dreamed of him for the final time.
Everything was dying. The pond had gone dry, the tree shading the bench had wilted and withered, all of the leaves turned brown and fallen off. Heaps of books were thrown everywhere, covered in more dead leaves. It was then that I saw him.
Gabriel was lying facedown, a few feet from the dry pond. I ran to him, turned him over, and cradled his head in my lap. He was pale and cold, I could barely feel his faint pulse and shallow breathing. His eyes opened just a little and he saw me there. He smiled weakly at me, the one who had done this; robbed him of his hopes of being human and killed him.
Tears ran down my face as I said, “Gabriel, I’m sorry. I love you, don’t die. I’m here for you now. Live, Gabriel, live!”
I woke up sobbing. Gabriel was gone.
As the year went by, I tried to forget what had happened. The dreams, the books, the fish, the killing, Gabriel. Needless to say I had no success. The most I could hope for was of convincing myself that it was all only a dream. But I knew that I never would; it had all been far too real.
*
It was summer again; a year had passed since my first meeting with Gabriel. The pain had lessened somewhat, but the memory of him hurt all the same.
I don’t know why I ever went back to that spot on the pond. It was the garden’s opening day and I had it all to myself.
I knelt to the water’s edge, watching the baby grass carp swim in and out of the shadows. I felt warm tears slide down my face, splashing into the water in little drops. I shook and held back a sob.
A gentle hand touched my shoulder and, through the wood, I felt someone crouch down beside me.
The same person whispered in my ear, “Don’t grieve, Beth. You came just in time. I am real. I'm here for you.”
His voice was soft and warm. I turned to look, but I already knew who it was.
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