Fiona Canters grew up differently than the rest of the free
world within the United States of America. When 5-year-old Fiona first told her
mother about one of her extraordinary dreams her mother had smiled pleased. She
asked her daughter to tell her what they meant. Confused Fiona had not
answered. The very next day she had been privy to the conversations the women
in her family had away from husbands, boyfriends, sons and fathers.
“Fiona dreamed last night,” her mother had told her
mother-in-law excitedly.
“Does she know what it means?” her aunt had asked anxiously.
Her mother proudly shook her head then and recounted the
dream for the listening gaggle. With gasps of delight and praises to the
Almighty they had all regarded Fiona differently.
The Canters were a French Creole line. Originally, they
intermixed with a line that had roots in Native America, Africa and Ireland.
Now they were a rainbow people. The shades of relatives spanned the realm of
possibility.
Fiona’s mother was Salvadorian. Her skin the color of
burnished copper. Her hair fell blue black tightly curled and silky across her
shoulders. Her light brown eyes always alight with seemingly forbidden
knowledge.
A Canters man, her father was tan skinned by nature. His dark
eyes and mixed features made it hard to place into a particular ethnic set. From
that, Fiona had emerged a shade lighter than mahogany. Her eyes an almost eerie
shade of dark grey. They looked lit from within as the iris closest to the
pupil was a paler grey than the midnight that it changed into as it floated to
the rims.
“Witch eyes,” her grandmother had said that night as the
women talked. She took the child’s measure for the first time.
Fiona had starred up innocently into the clear hazel eyes of
the paler woman. She felt that nagging suspicion of being in the presence of
something that was more than it seemed. Of course as a child, she had no true
idea of what it was. Just this sudden unmistakable unshakable awareness as she
peered up at the woman. Always waiting for her to change form right before her
eyes.
She had always been fearful of her father’s pale, hazel eyed
mother. The woman had eyes that saw too much. They saw everything and
communicated with the souls of others without their knowledge. These were
things she had heard whispered growing up among the others.
The others were the ones of her family that had been born without
that extra thing that most of the women had. It was a generation skipping
instance. Every once in a while, a woman in their line was born without that
extra sense of the world, without the vision to see into others through dreams,
premonitions and senses that were a family birthright.
They were raised in a different way than those with sight. Still
loved and shown the same affections and care. They were kept away from the ones
who bared stunning signs and levels of awareness. It was a courtesy to both
sides. The children would grow to understand and appreciate each other before
they interacted. This way they could understand their differences and not
treating each other badly over them.
Before the conception of every child, the women of the family
dreamed. During the pregnancy, the women dreamed. They dreamed of the child
they would bare. They would know before modern technology whether a boy or a
girl would be born. When the mother conceived her entire existence was enrapt
in the being she carried. Through their personal dreamscape, they would
understand the nature of that child. How it should be raised and what it should
be led to do.
Even those born without the special gifts procured to the
blood line were dreamt of. Regardless of whether it had been given sight or
not. One day they may raise a child that most likely would be given sight. Regardless,
they needed to be raised in a fashion to be able to deal with their child’s
gifts. That was why all dreams and premonitions centered on the child.
Fiona was the exception. Fiona’s mother Alejandra calls that
time in her life ‘el negro’:
The dark. For the first time in her life, she knew
what it was to live as most people do. She had only common sense, instincts and
logic to guide her way through. All of her dreams during Fiona’s conception and
birth had been shielded from her. All premonition and sensory insight dulled to
just instances of déjà vu. Her mother-in-law said it was because the child she
carried was blank. Meaning there was nothing to see.
Coming June 2017
