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The rest of the clothes I gathered into my arms and carried out into the backyard, cramming them into the sunken fire pit, doused them in gasoline and lit them on fire. Tomorrow I would see Trevor’s body for the last time before he was cremated, so today, I would do the same for the last traces of him that haunted this home. He felt so little joy here, just anxiousness, stress, and crippling paranoia. It felt right to release him from that in all possible ways.
I watched the fire burn with a lump in my throat and sank down on one of the stone benches that ringed the fire pit, wiping my eyes. It was a heavy, private moment. One that I would probably look back on a lot throughout my life. I felt the beginnings of peace, but at the same time, utterly alone.
“Why am I not surprised that you insisted on doing this all on your own?”
Jumping up from the bench, I squeaked, a hand coming up to cover my mouth as I turned to face the interloper that was interrupting me. Once I saw who it was, I relaxed and wasn’t at all surprised that he had found me.
“Maestro,” I breathed in relief. “You scared me.”
He smiled, that knowing look on his face that I was all too familiar with. The expression showed off his smile lines and those tiny crinkles at the corners of his sparkling, heterochromatic eyes. One was the palest blue, like the sky reflecting off fresh snow, and the other a deep brown that was almost black.
“I won’t apologize. You should have been more aware, but I’ll give you a pass after all you’ve been through, lovely Rachel.”
Had it been anyone besides Maestro, a shiver would have run up my spine at his words, but I never felt threatened by him. I had told only those that I was forced to tell about Trevor’s death, and Maestro wasn’t one of them, but the reasoning was two-pronged. One, because Maestro didn’t have a phone number or even an address as far as I knew. Two, because I have come to expect Maestro to know everything under the sun without being told. It added to his mystery.
I was younger when I first met him, having made the drive out to a nearby lake at sunset to ponder the course of my life. I remember sitting on the still-warm hood, knees tucked up to my chest, as the daylight faded, and I was trying to make a choice that felt almost impossible at the time. I could move to LA and pursue my career in hopes of becoming a star, or I could stay in my hometown and continue dating my high school sweetheart, hoping it would work out.
I had felt torn in two directions; my first love and my first genuine passion in life. I had felt hopeless when Maestro first spoke to me.
“Fear tricks us into leading a boring life. Did you know that?” His voice was smooth like caramel.
I had jumped then too. “What? Who are you?”
“Just call me Maestro,” he instructed. “So, what’s it going to be, Rachel? Fear or a boring life?”
“How did you know my name?” I wondered out loud. He continued to look at me patiently, waiting for an answer. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know,” I blurted, those different-colored eyes dragging the answer out of me.
“How about this? Choose fear, and the possibilities it will gift you with, and I will guide you in your times of need. Choose a boring life, and, well, there will be nothing for me to lead you to.”
He radiated calm knowledge and approachable power, and in his words, the answer to the questions I had been asking myself suddenly clicked into place.
“I’ll go,” I said in awe.
“Good girl,” he replied. “I’ll see you again soon.”
Since that day, Maestro had come into my life periodically, always when I was on the verge of a big decision or when I needed to see my path in life more clearly. I never knew his real name, where he came from, or even how he seemed to know me so well. Something about his aura made me trust him intrinsically.
Back in the present, seeing Maestro filled me with a sense of rightness. If he had come to see me, then I was moving in the right direction.
He was a man in his mid to late fifties, dark salt and pepper hair fading to silver at his temples. Tall and thin, Maestro reminded me of a modern wizard, his face handsome and his advice almost magic. He never wore the same thing, but his clothes were always tailored perfectly to his body. For this meeting, he wore a casual navy suit with the buttons of the jacket open and no tie.
With a long-fingered hand, he waved at me to sit, and he took a seat on the stone bench next to me. We watched the clothing burn for a few minutes, his presence giving me the modicum of comfort I had been craving.
“I want to tell you something that will help you in the future, even if at first it seems completely unrelated to this situation you find yourself in,” he said eventually, breaking the companionable silence. I turn my body slightly towards his, ready to listen.
“This is advice I would usually give to a man seducing a woman, but it will also be a skill you’ll need soon, and that skill is confidence. Confidence is key, and the way to exude the confidence is to always make eye contact with someone you want to be drawn into your charm.”
“I think I’m pretty confident already,” I commented, a bit confused by his words.
“Yes, but you’ll need this confidence to get the answers you seek. Making eye contact when speaking with someone will make you powerful, convey your interest, and make people more likely to trust you. If you were seducing someone, it would express that you were confident and interested enough to pursue something more. For you right now, it will open doors and avenues that would otherwise be closed.”
I thought about what he said, absorbing his words, and, as they always did, they both calmed and invigorated me for the difficulties of the path ahead. “I’ll remember that. Thank you, Maestro.”
He stayed with me a little longer, a silent source of companionship, watching the cleansing fire and letting the heat roll over us even in the oppressive Texas weather.
Finally, he stood, graceful and smooth in his movements, and nodded once toward me. “I’m sure I will see you again.”
With an appreciative smile on my face, I watched him walk away toward the front of the house. I knew I wouldn’t see him leaving in any car, and at this point in my life, I was well aware that following him was futile. I’d learned to accept the gifts of wisdom he offered me without asking any questions, and I was glad to have them, especially now.
