The Roarer

“Don’t even!” Smiles. “He was not. And I’m not interested. Not even faintly.” A grin spread over her face.

“He was too, and you know it. I bet he’ll be there tonight.” Jill shoulder-checked her into Damian, who shoved her back upright.

“Will you form a protective wall if he is?”

Laughter. “If we don’t hurry up, it’s possible we won’t have to. We’ve got five minutes, and they close the doors. Lets hurry.”

The brick walkway clicked against the soles of their shoes as they hurried across the campus. It was cold, but they were bundled up in heavy winter jackets and mittens. Laughing and talking, they headed for the beautiful brick domed building which held the concert hall and the theater. It was just another typical day for her. Another happy, typical day.

But then she looked up at the sky, completely on accident. Merely by chance, she glimpsed the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Immediately, she fell to her knees, silent.

“Oh, Goddess,” she whispered to the sky.

Her friends looked up and then at her, with a worried look on their faces. She fumbled for her cellphone as they told her to get up. “We’re going to be late.”

“Go without me.”

“Al—”

“No! I’m having a serious spiritual experience right now. I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” They looked back and forth between her and the sky, nonplussed. “It’s just
the—”

“Go!” She roared at them, as she dialed numbers rapidly.

They shook their heads, and left her kneeling in the cold wind, in the middle of the courtyard.

She didn’t notice them leave. She was staring at the sky. Staring like it held all the answers to the universe.

The phone rang and rang, and she willed him to pick up.

“Please,” she begged aloud. “Please.”

Eventually, a groggy man’s voice answered. “Hello?”

“Love, it’s me.” Her voice was full of ecstasy, and it sobered him.

“Why are you calling so late? What’s going on?”

“Everything’s fine love, listen to me—”

“Lexi, it’s nine. I have an exam at six. This had better be important.”

“Will you listen to me?” Her voice was desperate. Eyes wide, anyone watching would think he had
broken up with her. But her tears weren’t sorrowful, or joyful. They were flowing simply because she was overwhelmed.

He sighed, and said no more.

She had to breathe deeply to muster up enough breath to say the words. Her lungs seemed like rocks, partly from cold, partly from wonder.

“Asher. I’m looking at the Roarer.”