Different Minds

By Joyce E. Rayess

Magic realism, science fiction, and romance converge in a Lebanese author’s novel about a woman’s journey of the heart, mind, and soul.
 
Cassandra Kelly is still grappling with her mother’s death. Attending university has only made it more difficult for the shy and withdrawn Cassandra to cope. She’s ridiculed by one male student, and all but invisible to the man she desires from afar. Then, Cassandra’s life takes a startling turn—when she plans to ends it. Just as astonishing, a woman named Julie suddenly awakens from a coma. Cassandra awakens, too. But now Cassandra is seeing the world in a whole new light. Through the eyes of a stranger.
 
Two souls have melded. For Cassandra, two lives must be led. With her own mind and memories, she’s living in Julie’s world now. And it comes with Julie’s problems, including an impending marriage to the one man Cassandra can’t abide. What unbelievable secrets must she hide? And which must she surrender to find the true love she’s lived two lifetimes to call her own?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Jul 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781630474508

Joyce E. Rayess

Joyce E. Rayess, winner of several creative drawing awards, is originally from Lebanon and wrote her first novel at age thirteen.

Book preview

preface

I never feared death probably because I never believed it, all until its frequent occurrence around me proved the permanent disappearance of individuals— mostly when their roles in my life could not be replaced. But even through the biggest loss I never awaited my turn so impatiently.

I watched my steady pen with not a single shake as I signed the papers, donating all my organs upon death or when the possibility of survival would be very minimal. For the first time, I felt I could hear the sounds of the beasts roaring behind my shoulders.

Certainly I had a good feeling that ran in tandem with the horrible echoes, a good sense of decency. My passing away would not be in vain, although I’m not sure if it would really even matter to me since death will prohibit me of any feeling. I think I just cared to feel good right now.

I never really believed I deserved the life in me, as if I had no value to it whatsoever. My reflection has forever been that of a terrible soul trapped underneath lifeless flesh. My contract with death somehow brought me happiness because I had now set a date for an end. Or so I believed.

I brought my knees to my chest as I leaned my back on the wall beneath the window, the rain tapping gently, my soul resting on the sound.

Chapter 1

illusions

i waited surrounded by my luggage as my father brought the last one from my room. My nine-year-old brother’s face wasn’t a happy one as he watched me stare at our family photo with Mom in it before she died. I don’t think he totally understands what it is like that Dad and I know. He was only two years old when, well, things weren’t the same anymore.

My flight to Colorado was in five hours, but Dad had always favored being ahead. Paris was definitely the most common place for student life, but I wanted a far distant university, a reason to get away from the place that detached from me so many people I loved. Dad became quieter after the loss of Mom. They had stayed together not because of love but as a sacrifice for Sam and me. With time though they got used to not agreeing on things, but they had managed to find ways to maintain the family that we were, even go out together occasionally when they liked each other. Sometimes they were married, sometimes they were together only for us.

I disliked any place that resembled the weather in Paris. I picked the one place that had three hundred days a year of sunshine. I didn’t know how to live in a place whose nights are longer than its days. It’s not that I loved summers, but I had dark days even during the sunniest ones. I just needed light and a lot of it.

Cassandra, Sam called as he fit a green apple in his tiny hand. Do you want one?

I nodded as he threw me the apple. I looked at it as if it were a living creature in my hand, breathing maybe. I took a bite of it and put it on the shelf near our family picture. Dad handed me my backpack; my life was fitting in these small pieces of luggage and that purse.

Stay away from trouble, Dad said while shaking his head. I knew he didn’t need to say that, but he didn’t have much to say anyways. These were the best words he was able to choose as a good father. I knew that if he could, he would have left Paris too—but Dad thought for my brother’s best. In his calculations, Sam needed to grow up in one place.

You too, Dad, I said. We both somehow understood one another. Sam on the other hand stood annoyed, looking at our expressions. He picked up one of my bags and dragged it down the stairs toward the car. I walked after him while Dad remained still. He followed shortly afterwards.

In the car we were very silent; the only sound was Sam’s eating an apple. I quickly noticed I had forgotten mine on the shelf. I ran out from the car to get it. When I was back Dad had started the engine and Sam was smiling, seeing the apple in my hand. I dropped it in my purse, intending to eat it at the airport while waiting for my flight.

Dad was calm during the drive; he had the radio on, some French classic station. Sam was seated just behind Dad and kept his eyes on me all the time.

When are you coming back? His baby voice was changing and sounding a little older.

I’ll visit during summers, I said, though I knew it wasn’t my real intention. If you like you can visit instead.

When? he asked again.

Next summer, I assured him.

Dad wasn’t reacting or saying anything. It seemed as if he was too concentrated on the drive. It was him I worried about. He had lost his sister and Mom during the same accident, his own mother only two years later. My going away might have meant to him just another loss.

Dad?

Yes. He smiled but I knew he was pretending.

How about you and Sam come to Colorado next summer?

We can discuss that later. He smiled again while keeping his eyes on the road. Don’t forget to ask for Elionora in the students’ residence. I texted you her number just this morning.

Yeah, I know.

I wasn’t worried for Sam like Dad was; he was too young and wasn’t aware of the things we went through. I worried more for Dad because he had become silent and sad throughout the years.

The airport was only twenty minutes away from our home in Paris. I had barely slept for the last two days, and I was hardly able to keep my eyes open. My seat was a middle one somewhere at the back of the airplane. Luckily, the passengers on either side weren’t the chatty type. I kept my eyes opened until the flight attendants picked up the meals. Finally I closed my eyes without making any effort to sleep—and woke up only forty minutes until the first landing. A little astonished at how quickly time had passed, I was glad I wasn’t awake to witness any turbulence. I was a little dizzy and dehydrated, but I waited calmly for the landing. The second flight from Newark to Colorado was almost free of turbulence; I just stared out the window until arrival.

The sun was stronger than anything I had seen in Paris. It gave off more light than I had expected—or it was possible that I was seeing what I really wanted to believe. I couldn’t be sure; my imagination was becoming as real as reality. I looked for a taxi and asked for the students’ residence near the state university I chose. The room Dad had rented for me was supposed to be only a short walk away from the campus. Yes, I needed to ask for Elionora at the residence. She used to be Mom’s old friend according to Dad. I had never seen or even heard of her before and was totally surprised to learn of her existence. He coordinated with her to provide me with a nice room, and probably also to update him on me every now and then.

Upon my arrival I asked for her. Elionora was a skinny woman in her late thirties; she had black curly hair and a pale white face. I immediately noticed she was Italian from her accent. She gazed at me with her blue eyes and hugged me. I had a feeling that she knew so much about me, way more than I knew about her.

Welcome to Denver, little Miss Kelly, she said, her whole face smiling. She asked an old man to help me with my luggage and handed me a key to room number ten. I was supposed to unpack and then meet with her later that evening at the library. Of course I didn’t know where that was, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be hard to find.

My roommate was a girl my exact height; she had a funny way of talking. She paused in the middle of every sentence before she continued. I think she wasn’t a native English speaker, as though she had to gather her thoughts before she continued. I wasn’t sure where she was from exactly and hesitated to ask her.

Cassandra, right? She paused. I’m Sarah.

Right. We shook hands. I suppose we’re roommates.

Um...no. But I live here anyways, she said with a serious tone, but I knew she was joking. She looked like a nice person. I waited for her to laugh and then I followed with a smile. Where are you from anyways? They said you were French, but you don’t look like it.

Ah no, we live in Paris, but we’re not…we’re not French.

She nodded as though she heard nothing of what I said. You’re very skinny. They don’t cook well in Paris? Um, sorry, this is your bed. She paused again. I thought you’d like the room with the window view near the bed.

Our shared room looked more like a hotel suite; our bedrooms were separated by a door. We had a shared bathroom and a studying room that was too small to fit even one person.

Oh wow, I love it. I was happy indeed with the choice she had made for me. I liked to watch outside while being in bed. Somehow having my back to the wall made me feel safe.

I spent the next two hours unpacking and arranging my stuff neatly. Sarah read a book and watched me while lying on my bed. I was not so comfortable having her eyes on me. I made sure my stuff was very organized—not that I’m usually that neat, but it made me more relaxed having her think I was. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail with a thin hairclip on the right. She wasn’t too elegant or stylish. She dressed like she was afraid to catch a cold, although it was pretty warm that day. I stopped unpacking for a second and took a look outside the window, got carried away with my thoughts over the green fields.

Do you need help? she said.

Excuse me? I asked as she pointed with her head to what was left of my unpacked luggage. Oh no, I think I’m almost done. Thanks.

The cafeteria here doesn’t have good food, but you can try the place on the street corner. It’s cheap and they cook the best around here. You’ll find most of the campus students there around two.

Oh, that’s great! I lied. I didn’t really like crowded places, but I found it rude to refuse her first proposition when she was just being helpful for my too-skinny condition, although her attempt of help made me feel like I was sick. I always felt tense when people referred to my physical appearance. I don’t really like how I look. My mom used to tell me how beautiful I was, but I never gave much attention to her words. I cared more that she loved me. Sometimes when people stare into my green eyes it troubles me and I try to avoid the contact. I’m a little scared to hear their comments, and I’m not used to taking compliments either as I don’t know how to deal with them. I don’t think people give compliments because they mean them; rather they say them because they want to be loved, and that makes me even more nervous. I don’t know any way to express love, especially to those I don’t know. My automatic reaction to any compliment is to drop my head down and follow the lines of the floor to the nearest door leading outside the room. Although harsh comments have always outnumbered any compliment, as strange as it might sound, I favored them.

I was skinny for a Colorado girl, skinny for any girl. I was pale, with dark circles around my eyes and a face that could express anything in my heart easily. My hair was fairly long and my fingers looked like they belonged on a seventeen-year-old boy; those I hid in my sweatshirt pockets at all times. There was nothing that I really liked about myself or believed that a little care or change would make me feel different toward them anyways.

I’m going to get us a drink, Sarah said. Would you like something cold?

I’m good. I quickly remembered I was very thirsty in the airplane and hadn’t had anything to drink since then. Wait. I could use some water.

Cool. She left the room.

I found myself happily alone with my thoughts. I don’t think I live completely in the real world. I think here I only survive on water and food. My most comfortable zone is when I’m alone in my own world. It’s when the dark room is suddenly lit and everything in gray becomes colorful. I start to hear the sound of a sweet music playing in my mind, a very magical world that I never want to leave. My only fear of course is to be interrupted or seen by someone of the real world having a conversation with no one that truly exists to them. In this case I was interrupted by the noises of the students in the adjacent room.

I opened the window and welcomed the sound of the birds. The smell of the green was refreshing. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift into the peace of nature. Overhead was a blue sky with little white clouds. I knew I would find worry and anxiety sooner or later, even in such a peaceful environment. My body is the type that self-generates anxiety due to the traumas I went through in my childhood. I could hold myself tonight and tap my fingers over my shoulder like my mother used to when she put me to sleep, but when I wake up I know I will be stalked by a restless feeling of worry. Slowing down my breathing could only relax my muscles until I was asleep; it never prevented nightmares or even lowered their frequency. But I needed not to think of this right now because I would start worrying about when night would fall. I was glad my roommate was a nice girl; it made me more comfortable.

I remembered at once to call Dad. Sam picked up the line quickly; it made me think he was waiting near the phone for my call. Dad’s words were encouraging, and he was obviously happy that I had called. I felt lighter as I hung up the phone.

As I put my purse on the bed the green apple rolled out onto the cover. The side of the bite had turned yellow. I picked it up and placed it on the shelf near my bed, with the bite side facing the window.

It wasn’t on the menu. Sarah handed me a mini-sized water bottle. I managed to find you one though.

I didn’t know I was so dehydrated; I enjoyed drinking that bottle of water like no other in my life. I suddenly realized that my fingers were slightly shaking. Mentally, I was way more tired than my physical body was.

We went for a walk that afternoon to discover the surroundings. Sarah knew every corner like the back of her hand; the place was like her own hometown. I don’t think I ever saw larger trees in my life. It was then that I discovered my favorite color; it had to be green. Something in that color reflected a quiet type of life. These plants seemed unaffected by mankind’s activities. They stretched so beautifully in the area. The space between each tree was almost equal, as if someone had planted them intentionally in this manner for decoration. I fell in love immediately with the grass and the shade from the tall creatures.

Sarah explained in detail everything I needed to know for survival. She introduced me to every restaurant we passed, every shop and street. I didn’t say more than simple words such as wow or great or lovely. I had lost my hearing for a few minutes, carried by my own usual worries, until she said, Robert is a very handsome guy. He only moved to Colorado last year. She paused. If he wasn’t so stupid, you know.

Robert? I asked with interest. It couldn’t be the same Robert; he never said he was moving to Colorado. Utah was his destination. She didn’t appear to notice my sudden interest.

Brownish hair, glasses. She pointed at a guy sitting on a bench under the shade of a very large tree; he was at most twenty-two. His glasses gave the impression of an intellectual person. An Asian girl was seated next to him. He had one hand stretched out over her shoulder while they both looked into a book. They looked like a couple. Sarah didn’t look very happy with them; she was avoiding looking at them.

Oh, he’s not that cool, I said, trying to lessen her interest. I shook my head with confidence, hoping to make her believe it.

I was glad it wasn’t the Robert I knew. Maybe my decision on Colorado was made because I didn’t want to be very far or very close to him. Not that he ever knew I existed. He was forever taken by some girl until their recent breakup when she got engaged to an American and moved to Colorado with him. Everyone was very surprised with what she did. People said that her parents had arranged this for her and she didn’t refuse it. I think he also didn’t want to be too close or too far from her; it was why he moved to Utah. I never knew what she looked like. She wasn’t in our school in Paris. Robert felt like he lost a piece of himself and moved to where his father and cousins were. Gossips said that he kept emailing her until one day she just stopped replying. That’s when everyone suspected she got married to the American. It was also when she stopped replying to a few others at school.

Wait until he smiles then tell me. Sarah began walking away at a faster rate. Let me show you the theater. There’s only one here, but you’ll find people your type there.

I followed her fast pace, tried to keep up with her conversations. It wasn’t hard for me to get drifted away by my own thoughts, but I tried not to. I knew it wasn’t easy to find someone to show me everything around, and I didn’t have a good memory for directions. What I picked up of her conversations was that Colorado has four seasons, and during this month of October it’s a bit cold because early next month is the start of winter. Today the temperature was fifty-seven degrees, and it was going to be sunny for the next whole week. Sarah told me about some preparations for a trip to the Rocky Mountains the following weekend and said there was space for me if I wanted to join. I wasn’t really ready to socialize yet but promised to think about it.

Beside the theater was a large green field. I felt so small before this huge space of grassland that slowly climbed in altitude toward the sky. People were resting on the grass under the sun wearing winter clothing. A guy and a girl were running down the hill very fast, and the closer they came to the bottom of the hill the more I noticed they were coming toward us.

Sarah, Sarah! the girl was calling. Sarah’s face lit up at the sound of her name. The girls hugged and then the guy joined their hug. I was standing alone looking awkward. The guy was very handsome and had dark skin, maybe a little chocolate. His hair was jet-black and curly; his eyes were an extremely beautiful green that matched his shirt. The girl was equally attractive: brunette with light brown eyes and very white teeth. They both were tall, maybe the same height, and had big smiles on their faces. I tried to avoid eye contact with them.

I noticed the guy was looking at me. I bit my lips and tried to look as far away as I could, but that didn’t forbid me from noticing any less his eyes constantly staring at me. Sarah introduced us to one another; the guy’s name was Daniel, the girl’s name was Michka. I said my name in a very low voice, smiling, but it didn’t hide my nervousness.

Daniel bowed at me. We have the same eye color! he said with a huge smile.

I instantly blushed without possessing any control to stop it.

It’s impossible, I said shyly.

Yeah? He put his face right next to mine and asked the girls for their opinion.

Totally the same, Michka said, laughing. Sarah seconded Michka’s comment.

I told you, Daniel said, pleased. I could recognize these rare ones from the top of the hill. Where are you from?

Paris, Sarah said. She wasn’t correct, but I didn’t feel like explaining origins so I resigned to her answer.

I noticed this everlasting smile on Daniel and Michka’s faces. I couldn’t recall the last time I had this beautiful expression over mine. Over the last five years my body had picked up a depressing language. But looking into their faces made me smile from the inside; I liked the peace that their faces expressed.

When we got back Elionora was waiting for me near the residence. She called to me and hugged me so hard my eyes welled up with tears.

You resemble your mother so much, she said.

I looked into her eyes and longed to hear what she knew about Mom. What was it like to be her friend, and what did she used to tell her? Did she ever mention me? I swallowed the need to cry. My throat felt like it had a little cactus stuck in it. I did my best to blink away any tears in my eyes.

How did you… I breathed in and turned toward Sarah. She suddenly excused herself and started walking away. How did you know her? I asked Elionora.

We lived together one year here at Colorado. I stayed here while she married Lucas and went to live with him in Paris. She smiled at me with sad eyes.

Mom never said she was in Colorado before. Dad never mentioned it either. I wondered if it was here that they met.

How about we dine together, little Kelly? She tried to get my attention away from all the questions that suddenly started jamming into my mind.

Calling me this sounded better than my name. That sounds like a good idea.

We went to a nearby restaurant called Angels. I took notice of the name and ignored it immediately. The restaurant was one of the oldest restaurants in Denver. We didn’t talk much about anything important, our subjects ranging from Colorado weather to the first day of classes on Monday. I found it a little hard keeping up with her Italian accent, although her gestures made things easier to understand. I waited for her to tell me something about Mom, but she didn’t tackle that subject. I knew there were going to be other times so I didn’t speak about Mom either.

The afternoon drifted quickly into a dark night. The sky was full of bright and baby stars. In the students’ residence there was a basketball court in the back of the building. Sarah had showed me the way before she went to shower. I sat on the stairs in the dark section watching a few boys play. I was starting to feel tranquil, finally alone, until…

Hello. The sound of a guy’s voice came from behind my back.

I looked above my shoulder and saw a boy smiling down at me. He was sitting two stairs above mine and came closer to me as I looked at him.

Hi, I replied shortly.

I’m Jack. Vapor came out of his mouth as he spoke. It was very cold at night.

Cassandra.

Ah, you’re the new French girl, right?

Only new, I corrected him.

You’re staying here at the students’ residence?

Yeah, girls’ side, rooming with Sarah.

Ah, Sarah from New Jersey? His facial features looked pleased and his eyes absorbed light as he spoke about her.

I’m not sure. I pulled my jacket tighter to myself. I think maybe of different origins.

Yeah, you’d think that. She stayed with her wealthy parents in Europe for a very long time. Four years ago she came here alone and took this room as her new home. It’s nice she let you room with her. She doesn’t do that usually.

He seemed very happy with what Sarah had done, as if she had accomplished something she had trouble doing before. It gave me both a pleasant feeling and a weird one too. It was me she decided to room with, which meant that I helped her with her accomplishment; at the same time, she didn’t know me before she agreed to room with me, which meant that she was ready in the first place and I had nothing to do with it. I wondered what her story was, but I couldn’t ask anyone for such details. I kept silent hoping he would say more. He didn’t.

I walked back to the room. On the way I noticed the lobby had way more people than it could accommodate. Friends of residents had come along to spend the evening time together. There wasn’t a face I recognized from those Sarah had introduced me to today. I tried to attract the least attention possible as I crossed the room toward the stairs.

The building had three floors only, the lobby along with the cafeteria, the first, and the second. My room was at the end of the corridor on the second, the calmest place in the block. The guys’ section was in an adjacent building with blue bricks and beige walls. Our block had red bricks and brown walls, an exact architectural replica of the guys’ residence. The basketball and tennis courts were common areas for both sections. Elionora had said there was a library belonging to the students’ residence, but I didn’t locate it anywhere that day.

When I reached our room, I noticed I wasn’t carrying the room key. I must have forgotten it inside. I knocked on the door shyly but there was no answer. I placed my ear on the door and heard the shower running. I knew I had to wait for Sarah to finish before she let me in. There were four other rooms in the same level, and I worried that someone might come out and see me standing weirdly by the door. I decided to go back to the court and wait for her there.

As I came down Jack was still in the same spot. He appeared colder than when I had left him.

You’re back quickly.

I forgot my key inside. I sighed heavily. Sarah is showering.

It’s cold here; I wouldn’t advise you to stay out for long. His body shook as if fighting the cold.

I cringed. What reason should I give him for not wanting to wait indoors?

The lobby is crowded, I said in a low voice.

Ah, so you’re like me. You hate the crowd. Bet you’re the type that waits for everyone to sleep before you finally have a rest. He laughed. Next year I’ll find a calmer place for myself. I’d advise you and Sarah to do the same.

You’re in the boys’ section?

Yeah, on the second floor east side, always the best view.

We sat quietly watching the boys play; one by one, they started leaving the court. Jack told me that Sarah must have finished showering. I realized he had been looking upwards at our bedroom window. I said that I’d rather wait a little rather than make it between the crowds twice more. He laughed mockingly then apologized and smiled.

You know you can always take the back door. No one really uses it except for the cooks. He looked up at the girls’ building. But anyways, the light is on in your room. Sarah must have definitely finished her shower.

Oh, thank you.

During my walk back to the room I tried to catch the least attention I could, although I had more eyes staring at me than the first time. I kept my eyes straight on the path, trying not to bump into anyone. I think someone tried to call me from behind, but I decided not to look back; it was important to concentrate on reaching the room with the least interaction. Just before I knocked, Sarah opened the door, startling both of us. It took a few seconds before we started laughing.

I realized you forgot your key here and thought you’d be waiting outside the door. I didn’t think you would be standing near the door like a zombie.

I wasn’t, I just came. I waited for you to finish in the court. We continued laughing.

You must be freezing; you could use a hot shower, Sarah said.

After my shower we spent an hour chatting until it became hard to keep my eyes open. Sarah never asked me anything about my mother although I could tell she wanted to. Finally we agreed it was time to sleep.

I didn’t like the darkness, so I looked for a nightlight that was near my bed. I thought of asking Sarah if she minded keeping the door open between our rooms, but the thought lasted only a few seconds and I saved myself from the humiliation of sounding like a five-year-old kid. I crawled in bed but my anxiety suddenly interfered with my need to sleep. I turned on my laptop and looked for emails instead. I had one email from Clara, my close friend. The email was long but had a very attractive subject: I have news about Robert. I knew though that reading the email might keep me from sleeping all night. Finally I closed the laptop and decided to go through it tomorrow.

Beside my bed was the green apple on the shelf. Somewhere in my deep confusion I apologized for hurting it, and then I surrendered to sleep. The sound of the singing night insects beyond the walls kept waking me up every few hours; each time I wasn’t sure exactly where I was. Sometimes I even dreamt that the insects found a way into the room through wall cracks. I woke up shortly after dawn, relieved to see the light of day again. The sound of the birds was the only thing louder than the singing insects of the night.

Chapter 2

past dilemma

i was awakened by the sound of my heartbeats, a sudden surge of overwhelming anxiety and fear. I forced myself out of bed, noticing a sharp pain in my knees. It felt like I didn’t rest a bit all night. I was a little proud