Visitations by Jonas Saul Page B

soul aches. My spirit is crying. I can feel it.
     
    I’m a leaf collector.
     
    I love leaves and they love me. We have an understanding. They whisper my name. They never yell.
     
    I look around. The trees have won. All I ever wanted was to leave a legacy. All I ever wanted was to be loved, adored.
     
    I had trespassed one too many times in a forest where the trees didn’t want me taking from their crowns.
     
    But in the end, I don't blame the trees. I know in their own way, they love me too because I love them.
     
    After the light allows me passage to a new home, I have all the lovely trees I can handle. I play with the leaves and set up displays and rummage through forests for hours and hours.
     
    I love leaves and they love me.
     
    I’m home now.
     
    I’m a leaf collector.
     

The Uniqueness of Life

    A cold wind blew Rebecca’s hair up, her eyes closing as they watered. She turned to look over her shoulder. The street was mostly empty, other than two women who were entering the gift shop Rebecca had just left.
     
    She turned back around and walked on. What gave her such a feeling of dread? Why was she feeling like something was wrong? Was it instinct or intuition?
     
    A store window caught her attention. She slowed and gawked at a wall of televisions. The different sized screens were all tuned to the same news station, showing image after image of the current snowstorm that was blanketing the province just south of them. She shivered as the cold seemed to move right through her. She couldn’t hear what was being said through the store’s window pane and the earmuffs she wore, but she watched anyway, transfixed by the pictures on the screens. When she made to turn away, movement in the corner of the window stopped her. She did a double-take.
     
    It was the reflection of a man standing across the street, staring at her. Even through the reflection, and the angle of the window, she was sure he was watching her. What she was surer of, was that it was her husband, Mark.
     
    Rebecca spun around and looked across the road at her husband, a multitude of thoughts going through her mind. Why wasn’t he at work? Was he following her? Why didn’t he come over and say something?
     
    “Mark,” she yelled, waving her gloved hands.
     
    He nodded and turned away.
     
    “Mark!” she yelled again, as he disappeared around the corner of a building.
     
    What the hell is that about?
     
    Rebecca hustled along as fast as she could on the slippery snow. She made it to the flashing yellow light on her side and, after looking up and down Main Street, she hustled across. In less than a minute, she’d reached the spot where Mark had been, and then looked around the corner where he had turned.
     
    He was gone. Vanished.
     
    That’s strange . Why would he take off like that ?
     
    She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her cell phone. After dialing his office number, she got his voice mail. She tried his cell. No answer.
     
    Strange.
     
    The incident only served to intensify the butterflies in her stomach, confirming something was wrong. Mark wouldn’t just walk away like that. Not after fifteen years of marriage. He was acting more like a stranger than her husband.
     
    She decided to finish her banking and leave the downtown area. The cold had kept many people indoors today, but Mark had asked her to do a deposit at the bank for him. She’d thought she’d add a little shopping to her excursion, but now she just wanted to head home.
     
    She started walking and thought again, why would he do that? Even if he had business downtown today, he always had the time to stop and say hello.
     
    A part of her was scared to find out the real reason for him being downtown.
     
    She made it to the bank without seeing him again. The two front doors were large wooden ones that opened to two more doors that had been added for security. She stepped through and immediately headed for the line. There was one teller working