Warm wind

I awake in the tunnel on cold ground, sad and defeated. I stay there for a moment, letting Eurydice enter my mind; her rich brown eyes, silky golden hair, and beautiful tan skin. My wife. I stand up, sharp stone piercing my feet. Dirt and grime cover my skin like a blanket. I’ve been walking for days; time stretches out, and the darkness seems to never end. I can still hear the dogs barking in the distance. With each bark, I wonder if he’s changed his mind.

I feel her behind me, I think. I hope. Her breath blows against my neck. Or, is that the wind? I can’t recognize the difference. Each step, I pray for a bit of light, a bit of spring, and with each step, I am disappointed. I hum, hoping she hears me sing for her. 

As the tune comes to a close, I notice a difference in the air. The smell of damp rock and despair slowly disappears into something else. I push away the hope it gives me, convinced that another trick is being played. I continue walking forward and am greeted with the sound of a bird chirping. My walk turns into a jog, the stale air around me becoming lighter. It’s then that I see it: bright, gleaming light. I run ahead, the air becoming warmer and warmer.

I break through. Soft, warm grass greets my feet and bright yellow sun warms my face. And as if a goddess had placed it there herself, I see a single red carnation. I bend down, my aching bones screaming, and gently pull the flower from the ground. Its mesmerizing soft curves and folds fit perfectly together. I stand, tightening my grip on the flower, and slowly turn back toward the tunnel, praying to whoever will listen that she will be there. My eyes make it to the cave's entrance. It's empty. Sadness grips my throat so tight it feels as if I am choking.

As I feel I’m dying, I hear screaming coming from the tunnel, “Orpheus! Orpheus!” It is then that she emerges, beaten and bruised. She squints, the bright light illuminating her face. “Oh, Eurydice!” I yell and run towards her. I grab her as she collapses. We kneel in the grass, her grip so tight around me that I might bruise.

“Is it spring?” she asks softly, voice raspy. She looks up at me with hopeful eyes. Her hair is matted back and her face is covered in dirt, but I have never seen a more ethereal sight.

I laugh loudly, handing her the red carnation. “It is. Persephone has blessed us.” A wide smile graces her face and then mine. I forget the hardships of the Underworld, and with it, the pain of the long tunnel out.

“That's good,” she says, looking at me softly.

Without thinking, I connect my lips to hers, emotions pouring out of me like rays of sunshine. She giggles, pulling away. I stand, picking up her fragile body and beginning the walk home. My fatigue disappears as soon as she is in my arms and the strength in my bones returns.

We pass by dozens of houses identical to ours; short, wooden homes. We walk past women washing, children chasing one another around, and men fixing timber into houses. It is comforting to be a part of something so mundane. I am reminded quickly of the blistering heat and the heavy axe I was forced to wield in the Underworld. My hands burn with the memory, and my muscles tense in lasting fear.

When we arrive at our house, I stare at the door. I had thought I would never see our home or Eurydice ever again. Tears gather in my eyes, but before they can drop, a warm kiss is placed on my cheek.

I look towards Eurydice and she gives me a loving look. “We’re home.” With those words, I open the door. 

Too worn down to do anything but sleep, we stumble into bed. I hold her tightly, cocooning us in our scratchy blanket that, at this moment, feels like silk. As we both give in to sleep, I feel nothing but relief that the nightmare is over.

I wake up several hours later. Darkness has fallen outside, but loud cheering and bright music plays. I stand to peer out the window. Our neighbors are dancing and laughing throughout the streets.

“Eurydice, wake up,” I say, gently shaking her. Her eyes open slowly.

“Do you want to go dance?” I smile and reach my hand towards her.

“Only for you.” She jumps up, running toward the door and grabbing my hand along the way.

We burst through the door barefoot and join the crowd in the streets. Flowers are hung on strings above us. The moon shines down, lighting the street with its glow. Children are running about, flower crowns adorning their heads. Some wear crowns made of small white flowers mixed with what I recognize as the deep red of carnations. Others wear crowns made with deep purple and bright, bursting pink petals. Spring has come, and everyone is celebrating. Eurydice twirls and twirls so beautifully. I love her so much.

“You know, you shouldn’t stare,” she yells, eyebrows raised.

“But how could I ever look away from you?” Her beauty amazes me every time I see her.

She runs toward me, throwing herself into my arms. I catch her with a laugh, twirling us around. “Dance with me,” she whispers in my ear.

And so I do. Musicians are playing ancient melodies, ones that seem to make the flowers bloom. My lyre lies untouched in our home, dusty from the weeks it lay silent. My fingers itch, yearning to play the song I know too well. It goes:

“There once was a maiden with hair of gold,
Her springtime song defied the cold.
She bloomed flowers for the world without a thought,
But never found what her heart sought.
She wished for another's love and a hearth so warm,
But when she found it, she was scorned.
Her mother pushed him away,
But her mother was wrong and with him she would stay.”

The music continues around us, but I only see her. Eurydice smiles and tilts her head to the side. I roll my eyes, placing her hands on my shoulders and my hands on her waist. We sway to the music, the tune slowing down. Hearing a tale and living a tale are very different. I am forever changed.

“Let's look at the stars!” I say, grabbing her hand. She nods, holding my arm tight as we begin our walk. We pass our house and long grass tickles my feet. Eurydice skips ahead, twirling under the moonlight. Her white dress is beautifully stained with dirt.

“Ahhhhhhh,” she screams happily up to the sky.

“What is that for?” I look at her with amusement.

“Because we are alive.” She reaches her hand toward mine. I grab it, and we lie down.

I scan the constellations, finding Virgo. In the legends, Virgo represents Persephone and her mother. So I look to Virgo and thank her for this gift: Eurydice.

At that moment, a wave of cold comes over my whole body.

“Did it just get cold all of a sudden?” I ask, a strong chill covering me.

“I don’t think so.” She looks at me with confusion. “Maybe we should go back. I am incredibly tired,” she says, sitting up.

I nod, getting to my feet, a feeling of dizziness hitting me. I take a deep breath. I don’t want Eurydice to worry, so I plaster a smile on my face and reach my hand down to help her up.

We walk through the tall grass, hand in hand, the cold feeling becoming more intense. I breathe a sigh of relief when we make it home.

Eurydice leads me to our bedroom, pulling us both down onto the bed. I bring her to my chest and close my eyes.

“Don’t wake up,” Eurydice says in a sleepy voice.

“What?” Before she can answer, she is asleep. And with a strange feeling in my chest, I fall asleep too.

When I wake, I ache. Why is our bed so hard? Did I fall on the floor? My eyes, crusted over with sleep, open slowly. A shiver moves through my body, letting me know that something is amiss. My heart begins to race, and my breathing comes in short. I slowly move myself into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes awake and adjusting to the darkness around me. Something sharp bites into my palm: a pebble. My eyes slowly adjust to the dark and I realize: I am back in the tunnel. The cold pierces my body as I pull myself up from the ground.

“No, no, no, no.” Where is she? “Eurydice! Eurydice!” I scream, beginning to hyperventilate. We made it out, we did! I remember. And in my panic, I make a fatal mistake.

I turn around, and there she is, wide-eyed.

“No,” I barely get out before she disappears before my eyes.

I fall to my knees, stones digging into my skin, and begin to cry.