WATCHER WHEEL: Desert Rose
By JoLayne
[email protected]
Lyrics to "Desert Rose" by Sting belong to Sting, not me. They were
given to me by Marianne as part of the Watcher Wheel Challenge begun
by Amand-r. Sting's beautiful lyrics appear at the end of the story.
Thanks Marianne for the marvelous lyrics to work with on my first lyric
wheel!
The concept of Immortality and Duncan MacLeod doesn't belong to me
either, shucks!
This is first person past and present. Hope it's not too confusing.
DESERT ROSE
Time. They have all the time in the world. Meanwhile, my job has been
watching them for almost 30 years. Time is a precious commodity that's
slowly diminishing my mortal physique. As I lie here, my heart is heavy.
My mind is in a whirl. I can do nothing but look back at the best part of
my life.
My career. It started back in the late 60's when I was a Life photographer
in Pamplona, Spain, to capture the beastly frenzy that went along with
the Running of the Bulls. Even though I had just filmed that madness, I
was in for a shock of what was truly amazing, jarring. It was a sight and a
lifestyle that mere mortals had no idea even existed.
In the dark of night, in a remote area on the way to my hotel, I came
across a sword fight between a man and a woman. Since I always had
film in my clunky camera, and shot the whole encounter. The ending
was grotesque, yet astonishing. A man lost his head and a woman got
the shock of her life, I thought at the time. I came to know that what is
called a Quickening wasn't new to her.
As the lithe woman stumbled away from the headless corpse, I was
determined to catch up with her. I needed to hold that murderer for the
police, there had to be some justice in the world. She'd just killed a man
in a barbaric, antiquated way. Before I could, a hand gripped my
shoulder letting the woman escape. I realized then that nothing was as
it seemed. The world suddenly had no order.
The man who held me was a Watcher and explained what I had just
witnessed purely by happenstance. Through him, I was introduced to
the Watcher system and it's history, bylaws and purpose. I had a simple
choice to make: join them, or stay quiet about what I saw. If I chose to do
neither, I would be executed. My film was confiscated for use in their
files. They insisted on complete secrecy, Immortality must be protected.
After what I had witnessed and the astounding story I was told, I
couldn't say no. Within a year, I was a full-fledged field Watcher.
I saw that woman again, that desert rose. She looked so normal, so...
human. In my mind, before knowing the truth and observing Immortals
vie for the 'Prize', I had decided who the heros were, who the villainess
clearly was. That female Immortal, the victor of the first challenge I'd
ever witnessed was the one to fear. But I was wrong.
Pilar is her name. That desert flower.
Whether the Watchers didn't realize what they were doing or they were
just filling a need as Pilar's Watcher had died in a car accident, they
assigned me to her. During the first weeks of cataloguing her covertly, I
came to realize that the male she conquered was the challenger, the
rogue. Pilar was protecting herself and her village.
I saw her with her family, with her 90 year old mother, Adoncia. With
Pilar's by- then 70 year old step-sister, husband and offspring. I saw Pilar
with the children of her village. That sweet desert rose. She slowly but
surely became the love of my life.
With her every movement, so fluid, so graceful, she captivated me. From
her long black hair that always held a freshly picked flower in it's braid,
to her petite, thin frame, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever
laid eyes on. I heard her serenading voice for the first time when I sat
across a caf‚ from Pilar and who I knew was her grand-niece, although
I'm sure the young woman was oblivious to that fact. With every passing
day, the need to just simply talk to her grew. Soon, the thought of taking
another breath outside her presence was too much to bear, even
though it was definitely against the rules.
Before I could work up the courage to forsake my oath and make my
presence known to her, Pilar fell. She was carrying a sack of rice from the
supply truck to her restaurante and stumbled over a rock. The flower
that was pinned in her hair flew. I bolted out from behind a building to
help her to her feet, even though I knew she would heal if she was
injured.
When my hand touched her arm to help her to her feet, pulses of
electricity flowed through my body as I was finally able to caress my
ideal. I was so close to her. I could smell her. It took all the strength I
could muster not to sweep her into my arms and make all my wishes
come true.
Pilar came off the ground laughing at herself for losing her dignity and
not seeing that rock that had been there since before she was born. Her
laugh was the call of angels. After reading her chronicle many times, I
knew she had been alive for 70 years, and had parted ways with her
teacher 20 years before. She came back to the village as a distant cousin,
after making sure the village and her family had heard the tragic news,
that Pilar was dead, years before. I wondered if her mother, Adoncia,
realized the young woman who would forever look 18 and arrived back
in her home village was truly the daughter she found and raised to
womanhood.
When Pilar got to her feet, and thanked me for my ayuda, assistance, she
hid her scraped hand and made sure her skirt covered her knees so I
couldn't see the magical healing process make her skin once again
pristine. She had no idea I knew more about her than she probably knew
about herself. That I had dreamt about her each and every night. Those
dreams were tied to a horse that would never tire. Seeing her up close, I
was even more amazed at her unpretentious beauty.
I helped her recover as much of the rice as we could and brought it into
the restaurante, the first time I ever stepped into the establishment. Her
adopted family was more worried about her fall than the loss of over half
of the supply of rice for the month. When I offered to drive Pilar into the
city for some more, I was exhilarated that they all thought that was a
wonderful idea.
That was the real beginning. The beginning of us. During that trip to
replenish the rice and not having to make myself invisible to her any
longer, we did a lot of talking and became fast friends. I knew she was
keeping a secret that she wanted to, but couldn't, tell me. I had two
secrets to tell her. One, I was her Watcher, and two, I was hopelessly in
love with her.
One night, while on a long quiet walk with Pilar, I blurted out that I
wanted to marry her. It surprised us both as we had not yet even kissed.
During the immediate silence that followed those two words, "Marry
me", I knew I would have a hard time explaining it to my superiors. But it
felt right. I didn't care. I couldn't live without that woman.
Pilar turned me down flat. She told me point blank that she would never
marry as she couldn't have children, as if that was the most important
thing to me. But then, she hooked her fingers around my hand and
asked if it would be alright if we just stayed amigos, not think about
tomorrow. "Viva para hoy," was her motto. It was strange for that to be
her mantra, as she had so many tomorrows in front of her.
To say I was disappointed she shut down my plans was certainly an
understatement as instantly, I had gotten used to having taken our
relationship to a higher plane with that simple plea of 'marry me'. She
told me that I was a very important part of her life, but marriage wasn't a
possibility. Something was better than nothing, so we lived as amigos
for another year, while I posed as a chef for the restaurante and quietly
added my reports to her chronicle.
Adoncia's heart and body finally gave out that year while she was
sleeping. Pilar's main tie to that village had unwound. That was the
turning point for us because she clung to me in her grief. It was Pilar
that made the first move that rapturous night we spent together. For
her, it may have been an act of desperation to retain a form of familial
connection, but for me, that night was an explosion of a deep seated
requirement.
From that night on, for the next 28 years, Pilar and I lived and roamed
and loved. I didn't tell her what I was. She only admitted her secret of
Immortality to me after a decade when my hair grew grey, my face grew
'character' and she retained the youthful beauty of a freshly opened
flower. I made my reports on her. I worried when she got into tight
situations with other Immortals. Pilar was under the impression that I
had a wealthy father who left me funds in his will, but it was actually
Watcher money supporting us. My expenses had always been
reimbursed, no questions asked. Over the years, we traveled the world.
After Pilar's blade was chipped during a challenge that she did accept,
knowing she would come out the victor, she needed a new one. Pronto.
We went to the nearest city and found an antique shop to purchase one.
A pleasant, beautiful French woman showed us all blades they had for
sale. Then Pilar tightened, as if the breath was sucked out of her lungs. It
could only mean one thing, another Immortal was around. A tall dark
haired man hovered in the doorway looking us over. Pilar tended to stay
away from others like her, but never ran from a challenge. That day, she
wasn't looking for a fight and stated that to the Immortal.
Duncan MacLeod smiled and relaxed, was a charming salesman, but I
could tell he kept an eye on every movement Pilar made in his presence.
Over time, we became friends with Duncan and Tessa. We mourned for
her loss. We were able to welcome Richie Ryan into the world of
Immortality. Then mourned his passing.
My body started to give out. First I got a sinus infection that wouldn't
clear up, then came a hacking cough, then a tightness in my chest,
fatigue. Pilar insisted that I had to see a doctor, who told me the truth. I
had lung cancer. Surgery wasn't an option, it was too far along. When it
got to the point that I could no longer travel, Pilar stayed with me,
comforted me. I got weaker and weaker, and knew my time with her was
running out. I had to tell her to go. I couldn't stand to see her still young
and beautiful face knowing she was going to live for centuries and I
couldn't be with her. That face that took my breath away for years had
become a bitter reminder of my mortality. Most of all, I didn't want her
to see me slowly fade away. I wanted her to remember me as I was. And I
wanted her to love someone who could stay with her.
After accepting my plea, I knew it was hard for her to leave and it only
made me love her. Pilar kissed me and squeezed my hand. I closed my
eyes as the scent of her lingered in the air. When I felt her touch
withdraw and heard the door shut, no sweet perfume ever tortured me
more.
I can't lay here just remembering Pilar anymore for fear I will break. With
the last bit of strength I have left, and with the help of a round-the-clock
nurse who will tend to me as I pass through the valley of the shadow of
death, I walk outside to lift my gaze to the empty skies above. The air is
thick with humidity and there's no relief from wind. I settled into the old
rocking chair on the porch and dream of gardens in the desert sand. I
dream of my Desert Rose.
I hear her voice. It's so clear. It must be the medication playing tricks on
my mind. But no, I open my eyes to see the most exquisite sight I ever
beheld. Pilar stands right in front of me. She kneels down by my leg and
takes my hand. My lungs may be giving out, my body is slowing down,
betraying me, but my heart and spirit are leaping for joy. She's back.
Pilar closes my eyes with little kisses on my lids. She tells me not to
speak. I can't help thinking how lucky I am to have her in my life, and
back again. I can't think about anything but her and our glorious life
together.
Pilar tugs on my hand and puts her arm behind my back to lift me out of
the chair. She helps me back inside the house and lays me on the bed.
Then, my desert rose lies next to me. She tells me, "Dream, Querido. Just
dream." I dream of love as time runs through my hand.
DESERT ROSE
by Sting From "Brand New Day"
(0pening--Indian/Arabic singer)
I dream of rain (ee-lay-a-lay)
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
I dream of fire (ee lay a lay)
These dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
And in the flames (ee lay a lay)
Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire
This desert rose (ee lay a lay)
Each of her veils a secret promise
This desert flower (ee lay a lay)
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this
And as she turns (ee lay a lay)
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns (ee lay a lay)
I realize that nothing's as it seems
I dream of rain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
I dream of rain (ee lay a lay)
I lift my gaze to the empty skies above
I close my eyes, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of her love
I dream of rain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
Sweet desert rose (ee lay a lay)
Each of her veils a secret promise
This desert flower (ee lay a lay)
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this
Sweet desert rose (ee lay a lay)
This memory of Eden haunts us all
This desert flower, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of the fall
THE END
By JoLayne
[email protected]
Lyrics to "Desert Rose" by Sting belong to Sting, not me. They were
given to me by Marianne as part of the Watcher Wheel Challenge begun
by Amand-r. Sting's beautiful lyrics appear at the end of the story.
Thanks Marianne for the marvelous lyrics to work with on my first lyric
wheel!
The concept of Immortality and Duncan MacLeod doesn't belong to me
either, shucks!
This is first person past and present. Hope it's not too confusing.
DESERT ROSE
Time. They have all the time in the world. Meanwhile, my job has been
watching them for almost 30 years. Time is a precious commodity that's
slowly diminishing my mortal physique. As I lie here, my heart is heavy.
My mind is in a whirl. I can do nothing but look back at the best part of
my life.
My career. It started back in the late 60's when I was a Life photographer
in Pamplona, Spain, to capture the beastly frenzy that went along with
the Running of the Bulls. Even though I had just filmed that madness, I
was in for a shock of what was truly amazing, jarring. It was a sight and a
lifestyle that mere mortals had no idea even existed.
In the dark of night, in a remote area on the way to my hotel, I came
across a sword fight between a man and a woman. Since I always had
film in my clunky camera, and shot the whole encounter. The ending
was grotesque, yet astonishing. A man lost his head and a woman got
the shock of her life, I thought at the time. I came to know that what is
called a Quickening wasn't new to her.
As the lithe woman stumbled away from the headless corpse, I was
determined to catch up with her. I needed to hold that murderer for the
police, there had to be some justice in the world. She'd just killed a man
in a barbaric, antiquated way. Before I could, a hand gripped my
shoulder letting the woman escape. I realized then that nothing was as
it seemed. The world suddenly had no order.
The man who held me was a Watcher and explained what I had just
witnessed purely by happenstance. Through him, I was introduced to
the Watcher system and it's history, bylaws and purpose. I had a simple
choice to make: join them, or stay quiet about what I saw. If I chose to do
neither, I would be executed. My film was confiscated for use in their
files. They insisted on complete secrecy, Immortality must be protected.
After what I had witnessed and the astounding story I was told, I
couldn't say no. Within a year, I was a full-fledged field Watcher.
I saw that woman again, that desert rose. She looked so normal, so...
human. In my mind, before knowing the truth and observing Immortals
vie for the 'Prize', I had decided who the heros were, who the villainess
clearly was. That female Immortal, the victor of the first challenge I'd
ever witnessed was the one to fear. But I was wrong.
Pilar is her name. That desert flower.
Whether the Watchers didn't realize what they were doing or they were
just filling a need as Pilar's Watcher had died in a car accident, they
assigned me to her. During the first weeks of cataloguing her covertly, I
came to realize that the male she conquered was the challenger, the
rogue. Pilar was protecting herself and her village.
I saw her with her family, with her 90 year old mother, Adoncia. With
Pilar's by- then 70 year old step-sister, husband and offspring. I saw Pilar
with the children of her village. That sweet desert rose. She slowly but
surely became the love of my life.
With her every movement, so fluid, so graceful, she captivated me. From
her long black hair that always held a freshly picked flower in it's braid,
to her petite, thin frame, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever
laid eyes on. I heard her serenading voice for the first time when I sat
across a caf‚ from Pilar and who I knew was her grand-niece, although
I'm sure the young woman was oblivious to that fact. With every passing
day, the need to just simply talk to her grew. Soon, the thought of taking
another breath outside her presence was too much to bear, even
though it was definitely against the rules.
Before I could work up the courage to forsake my oath and make my
presence known to her, Pilar fell. She was carrying a sack of rice from the
supply truck to her restaurante and stumbled over a rock. The flower
that was pinned in her hair flew. I bolted out from behind a building to
help her to her feet, even though I knew she would heal if she was
injured.
When my hand touched her arm to help her to her feet, pulses of
electricity flowed through my body as I was finally able to caress my
ideal. I was so close to her. I could smell her. It took all the strength I
could muster not to sweep her into my arms and make all my wishes
come true.
Pilar came off the ground laughing at herself for losing her dignity and
not seeing that rock that had been there since before she was born. Her
laugh was the call of angels. After reading her chronicle many times, I
knew she had been alive for 70 years, and had parted ways with her
teacher 20 years before. She came back to the village as a distant cousin,
after making sure the village and her family had heard the tragic news,
that Pilar was dead, years before. I wondered if her mother, Adoncia,
realized the young woman who would forever look 18 and arrived back
in her home village was truly the daughter she found and raised to
womanhood.
When Pilar got to her feet, and thanked me for my ayuda, assistance, she
hid her scraped hand and made sure her skirt covered her knees so I
couldn't see the magical healing process make her skin once again
pristine. She had no idea I knew more about her than she probably knew
about herself. That I had dreamt about her each and every night. Those
dreams were tied to a horse that would never tire. Seeing her up close, I
was even more amazed at her unpretentious beauty.
I helped her recover as much of the rice as we could and brought it into
the restaurante, the first time I ever stepped into the establishment. Her
adopted family was more worried about her fall than the loss of over half
of the supply of rice for the month. When I offered to drive Pilar into the
city for some more, I was exhilarated that they all thought that was a
wonderful idea.
That was the real beginning. The beginning of us. During that trip to
replenish the rice and not having to make myself invisible to her any
longer, we did a lot of talking and became fast friends. I knew she was
keeping a secret that she wanted to, but couldn't, tell me. I had two
secrets to tell her. One, I was her Watcher, and two, I was hopelessly in
love with her.
One night, while on a long quiet walk with Pilar, I blurted out that I
wanted to marry her. It surprised us both as we had not yet even kissed.
During the immediate silence that followed those two words, "Marry
me", I knew I would have a hard time explaining it to my superiors. But it
felt right. I didn't care. I couldn't live without that woman.
Pilar turned me down flat. She told me point blank that she would never
marry as she couldn't have children, as if that was the most important
thing to me. But then, she hooked her fingers around my hand and
asked if it would be alright if we just stayed amigos, not think about
tomorrow. "Viva para hoy," was her motto. It was strange for that to be
her mantra, as she had so many tomorrows in front of her.
To say I was disappointed she shut down my plans was certainly an
understatement as instantly, I had gotten used to having taken our
relationship to a higher plane with that simple plea of 'marry me'. She
told me that I was a very important part of her life, but marriage wasn't a
possibility. Something was better than nothing, so we lived as amigos
for another year, while I posed as a chef for the restaurante and quietly
added my reports to her chronicle.
Adoncia's heart and body finally gave out that year while she was
sleeping. Pilar's main tie to that village had unwound. That was the
turning point for us because she clung to me in her grief. It was Pilar
that made the first move that rapturous night we spent together. For
her, it may have been an act of desperation to retain a form of familial
connection, but for me, that night was an explosion of a deep seated
requirement.
From that night on, for the next 28 years, Pilar and I lived and roamed
and loved. I didn't tell her what I was. She only admitted her secret of
Immortality to me after a decade when my hair grew grey, my face grew
'character' and she retained the youthful beauty of a freshly opened
flower. I made my reports on her. I worried when she got into tight
situations with other Immortals. Pilar was under the impression that I
had a wealthy father who left me funds in his will, but it was actually
Watcher money supporting us. My expenses had always been
reimbursed, no questions asked. Over the years, we traveled the world.
After Pilar's blade was chipped during a challenge that she did accept,
knowing she would come out the victor, she needed a new one. Pronto.
We went to the nearest city and found an antique shop to purchase one.
A pleasant, beautiful French woman showed us all blades they had for
sale. Then Pilar tightened, as if the breath was sucked out of her lungs. It
could only mean one thing, another Immortal was around. A tall dark
haired man hovered in the doorway looking us over. Pilar tended to stay
away from others like her, but never ran from a challenge. That day, she
wasn't looking for a fight and stated that to the Immortal.
Duncan MacLeod smiled and relaxed, was a charming salesman, but I
could tell he kept an eye on every movement Pilar made in his presence.
Over time, we became friends with Duncan and Tessa. We mourned for
her loss. We were able to welcome Richie Ryan into the world of
Immortality. Then mourned his passing.
My body started to give out. First I got a sinus infection that wouldn't
clear up, then came a hacking cough, then a tightness in my chest,
fatigue. Pilar insisted that I had to see a doctor, who told me the truth. I
had lung cancer. Surgery wasn't an option, it was too far along. When it
got to the point that I could no longer travel, Pilar stayed with me,
comforted me. I got weaker and weaker, and knew my time with her was
running out. I had to tell her to go. I couldn't stand to see her still young
and beautiful face knowing she was going to live for centuries and I
couldn't be with her. That face that took my breath away for years had
become a bitter reminder of my mortality. Most of all, I didn't want her
to see me slowly fade away. I wanted her to remember me as I was. And I
wanted her to love someone who could stay with her.
After accepting my plea, I knew it was hard for her to leave and it only
made me love her. Pilar kissed me and squeezed my hand. I closed my
eyes as the scent of her lingered in the air. When I felt her touch
withdraw and heard the door shut, no sweet perfume ever tortured me
more.
I can't lay here just remembering Pilar anymore for fear I will break. With
the last bit of strength I have left, and with the help of a round-the-clock
nurse who will tend to me as I pass through the valley of the shadow of
death, I walk outside to lift my gaze to the empty skies above. The air is
thick with humidity and there's no relief from wind. I settled into the old
rocking chair on the porch and dream of gardens in the desert sand. I
dream of my Desert Rose.
I hear her voice. It's so clear. It must be the medication playing tricks on
my mind. But no, I open my eyes to see the most exquisite sight I ever
beheld. Pilar stands right in front of me. She kneels down by my leg and
takes my hand. My lungs may be giving out, my body is slowing down,
betraying me, but my heart and spirit are leaping for joy. She's back.
Pilar closes my eyes with little kisses on my lids. She tells me not to
speak. I can't help thinking how lucky I am to have her in my life, and
back again. I can't think about anything but her and our glorious life
together.
Pilar tugs on my hand and puts her arm behind my back to lift me out of
the chair. She helps me back inside the house and lays me on the bed.
Then, my desert rose lies next to me. She tells me, "Dream, Querido. Just
dream." I dream of love as time runs through my hand.
DESERT ROSE
by Sting From "Brand New Day"
(0pening--Indian/Arabic singer)
I dream of rain (ee-lay-a-lay)
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
I dream of fire (ee lay a lay)
These dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
And in the flames (ee lay a lay)
Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire
This desert rose (ee lay a lay)
Each of her veils a secret promise
This desert flower (ee lay a lay)
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this
And as she turns (ee lay a lay)
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns (ee lay a lay)
I realize that nothing's as it seems
I dream of rain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
I dream of rain (ee lay a lay)
I lift my gaze to the empty skies above
I close my eyes, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of her love
I dream of rain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain (ee lay a lay)
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
Sweet desert rose (ee lay a lay)
Each of her veils a secret promise
This desert flower (ee lay a lay)
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this
Sweet desert rose (ee lay a lay)
This memory of Eden haunts us all
This desert flower, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of the fall
THE END