Perfume of God

I sat staring into the vast turquoise infinity before me. The soft breeze carried the lingering scent of the island. I closed my eyes. I felt the warm sun on my skin, the wind that softly caressed my face and twirled my hair in its fingers, the mist from the crashing waves before me, and the gentle sound of the pull and release of the water. For the first time ever, I was finally at peace in this present moment. I finally knew what I was meant to do. My life finally made sense. I was still learning to ignore the negative voice in my head that tried to sabotage me. I took one last look back at the island and silently reassured it that everything was ok as I tightly held onto the tiny slip of paper in my pocket. I no longer had to be in fear. Everything was different now.

The small boat bobbed and bounced through the iridescent hills of glass that surrounded it. I felt a bump and heard a gritty sound drag the bottom of the wooden hull. My eyes popped open. We had arrived. The trip from the mainland to the island had passed in a blink of an eye. Yet, as I looked around it was no longer anywhere to be seen. How long had we been traveling? I didn’t even know. But that didn’t matter. We were here. My thoughts turned to a flashing memory of my family sitting around the dinner table laughing. I quickly closed my eyes and shook my head to release it. I had come here to escape the thoughts that left me trapped in my grief. The sun slowly sank in the distance. I walked to my hut, which sat perched in the clear ocean below. I had just taken a seat outside to admire the watercolor sky when I heard footsteps.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" The voice startled me, and I jumped a little.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you".

I turned to see a beautiful woman standing beside me on the boardwalk. She was tall and tanned, and her eyes twinkled in the glare of the sun. She smelled of salt, tangerine, vanilla, and flowers. A ring of plumeria hung from her neck and a simple white linen dress hung from her slender body. Blinking myself out of my trance I looked up at her standing beside me. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon. She seemed so peaceful. For a moment I felt jealousy rising inside me.

"No, you’re not disturbing. I was just admiring the sunset,” I said half truthfully.

"May I join you?"

"Sure. Feel free." I hesitantly answered, wondering why this woman was disrupting my peace and invading my space.

"Work or pleasure?" she asked.

"Um, a little of both I suppose."

She didn’t have to know that the work I insinuated was 'inner' work. I hadn’t really worked in months. Not since I decided that my life was too short, quit the job I had for the past 8 years, and traveled halfway around the world because I didn’t want to be miserable every day anymore. Even thinking it sounded crazy, but I was burnt out. For the past 8 years, I had been telling other people’s stories. When had I given up on my own dreams? When had I decided that my own story was not worth telling? Just then the woman’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Well, if you're lucky enough to do your work here, that alone is something to delight in."

She was right. I knew that what I was doing logically seemed crazy but I could not deny the feelings I had been having any longer. The woman stood to walk away.

"You're leaving?"

I asked confused and half wondering if she had read my thoughts.

"Yes, I move where the spirit takes me."

I rolled my eyes inside. Who was this woman anyway? Clearly an island coo-coo I thought.

"Ok..." I responded.

"It is nice to finally meet you. I’m sure we will be seeing one another around."

What is she talking about? Finally, meet me? When I turned to see which hut she would return to she was nowhere to be seen. So weird. What in the world was that all about?

I woke the next morning sun with the sun streaming in through the holes in the thatch of my hut. I squinted my eyes and stretched half remembering where I was. I stumbled out of bed, took the tray of fresh fruit that had been left for me by my door, and walked onto the deck to enjoy the breakfast and the beautiful view. I was literally in paradise, but something still was not satisfied inside of me. Suddenly I heard the same gentle voice from the previous evening.

"Have a nice night?"

I turned to see the slender tan woman once again standing beside me.

"It was all right, I suppose" I mumbled.

Couldn’t this woman just leave me be? I barely just opened my eyes. I am not in the mood for chit-chat.

She smiled almost knowingly.

"Ok, well let me know if there is anything I can help you with."

Help me with? What is she going on about now? Does she work here or something? She didn’t introduce herself as an employee. I looked up to see that she was already more than halfway down the boardwalk, her long silky hair blowing in the tropical breeze. The morning sun’s glare cast a halo around her as she walked. I blinked, shook my head, then looked again, and it was gone. I think I just need to lay back down, I told myself. So, I finished my breakfast and climbed back into bed.

When I woke, it was already afternoon. I must have been jet-lagged or something. Maybe that is why I have been feeling so weird. Lack of sleep. I decided I would get out and do a little more sightseeing. A few minutes into my walk, once again, there she was. What is this woman’s fascination with me?

"Enjoying your stay so far?" She asked as she strolled slowly beside me.

“Yeah, it’s nice to finally get a little time away," I replied.

"Time away from what?" she asked.

I couldn’t very well tell this strange woman my entire life story, so I simply said:

"Just the everyday grind. You know how it is".

"Ah. How is it exactly?"

"You know, just everyday stress," I said now beginning to get even more uncomfortable if that was possible. What is with the prying?

"Everyday stress is simply the result of a silenced heart". She said with that same knowing smile.

"Well, my heart is anything but silent, thanks though."

She chuckled at that. What is so funny? Ugh! Now she was really beginning to get to me.

"Was something funny about that?" I challenged.

"I just find it amusing how often we confuse our heart with our mind."

"I’m pretty sure I know the difference," I said with a quick sarcastic grin and an attitude that screamed 'back off!'

"I mean no offense," She quickly added.

"None taken," I said without looking up at her.

When I looked up again, she was gone. "Thank God" I muttered with a sigh. Maybe she is right. Don't let this crazy lady get in your head. What are you even doing here? You have spent your last dime to come here for what? I didn’t even know how to feel anymore. All I knew is I was tired of fighting with myself. The memory of my daughter and husband had haunted me for the past 4 years. I couldn’t go on living this way. Was this how everyone feels when they lose someone? Will I ever be able to be happy or even just content again? I was exhausted. A dark cloud hovered over my life and refused to move. I was at rock bottom, and I had no idea how to overcome it. One night, after having cried for hours and completely ready to give up on life, I fell to my knees. There sobbing on the floor, I begged for relief. I had never prayed in my life, but I was desperate. I would try anything at this point. So I pleaded alone on the cold floor of my dark apartment for someone, anyone, to take pity on me and come to my rescue.

A few days later, I found a book about this island that I'd never heard of. I was on the subway ride home. The book was sitting on an empty seat with no one else around. It’s almost as if was calling to me. I know it sounds crazy. All I remember is getting home with it in my hands and asking myself why I'd taken it. It’s like I had blacked out or something. I skimmed through a few pages, threw it down on the coffee table, and forgot about it.

The next night, I sat on the couch eating my frozen dinner like I did every night after work. As I watched TV, the book on the table before me caught my eye. I fixed my vision back onto the TV, but it was screaming at me to pick it up. I picked up the worn book from the coffee table. Staring blankly into the pages I thought ‘maybe I'm finally losing it completely. The last little bit of sanity that I did have left is finally gone’. I stood up, walked over to the living room cabinet, tossed the book inside, and went to bed.

A couple of weeks passed, and I'd forgotten about the whole incident and the book. I was out to lunch when I overheard someone talking about the same island. Then, I saw an advertisement in a magazine. After that, I passed a street on the way to work that I'd passed a million times but never noticed. The street name was the name of the island. It was following me everywhere I went. I'm not one to believe in fate and all that, but this was more than a coincidence. I felt an undeniable pull in my gut and chest that I'd never felt before. I had asked, no, begged, for help. Maybe this was it. Maybe something or someone had actually heard my pleas. There was this feeling of something trying to uproot me from the place I'd been planted for so long and it wasn't giving up. It continued for weeks until I could no longer ignore these “signs” or whatever they were. I woke in the middle of the night and suddenly knew what I had to do. So, the next morning, I did it. I quit my job, I booked the flight, and here I was. But, what now? There has to be a reason I had been called here.

The next morning, I groggily turned over in my bed and squinted at the clock on my bedside table. 5:55 am. Ugh! Why am I up so early? I pulled out my phone to check the calendar. 5/15. 5:55 on 5/15. That’s interesting, I observed. I decided to go for an early walk to see the sunrise. There was no way she would follow me this morning, the sun was barely even up. I started down the boardwalk. When I came to the end, I decided to take the path that led to town. It wasn’t exactly a metropolis, but it was the closest thing to a town that these people had. The sun was just coming up and the villagers were beginning to open their shops. I could smell fresh coffee, coconut, pork, and eggs floating in the crisp morning air. One by one the canopies were drawn up by rope on pullies and wooden signs were carried out front. I walked over to the first open storefront. The woman behind the counter greeted me with a big smile and waved her hand in front of a display of all the menu items.

“I’ll just have a cup of coffee, black.”

She nodded and moved quickly to prepare it for me and returned a moment later.

“Taofe. 55 cent.” She said holding the steaming cup.

I pulled the coins from my pocket, handed them to her with a smile and took my coffee.

“Thank you,” I said with a nod of my head.

She nodded back.

I walked to an overlook behind the shop to admire the view. The cool morning breeze blew through my hair. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. For a second I felt different. Lighter. My eyes popped back open as I realized she had charged me 55 cents for my coffee. 5:55,5/15, 55, what is going on? Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I quickly turned and there she was, smiling and holding out her hand. In it was a single 5-cent coin.

“Drop something?”

“Oh! Thanks.” I said taking the coin.

'5 cents' I thought. I guess I had a puzzled look on my face because just then she asked if I was ok.

“Fine. Just recollecting my morning.”

“Care to share?”

“No, it’s nothing really, silly even,” I said a bit self-consciously.

“Well, if it's occupying your thoughts, then it isn’t nothing, now, is it?”

“Yeah, I guess. I just was thinking how it's funny that I keep seeing 5s everywhere this morning. See? Nothing. Silly.” I said with a shrug.

“Not silly. It seems someone may have a message for you.”

Giving her a strange look, I asked what she meant.

“Your angels have a lot to say this morning.”

Now I was looking at her even more strangely. She laughed.

“You know, repeating numbers? Palindromes? Angel numbers?”

“Uh, no…” I said skeptically with a raised brow.

“Well, you should look into it. Someone is trying to tell you something very important. I have a book that tells all about it in my hut. Would you like to see it?"

“Oh, um, ok,” I said before I realized what I was agreeing to.

“Ok, great! Let’s go have a look, shall we?”

‘What have I gotten myself into?’ I thought. We walked silently side by side until we reached the very last hut on the first row. She held her arm out to allow me to enter before her.

“Have a seat. I’ll go grab the book.”

I wondered how long she had been there. Does she live here? She emerged from behind the bead curtain that led to her bedroom.

“Ok, Let’s see…5s you say?”

I nodded my head anxiously.

“Here we go. 555… ‘The angel number 555 is a sign of spiritual transformation. 555 is a message from your guardian angels telling you to embrace yourself as a divine being and recognize that you hold the power to make and receive great change. Angel number 515: a hurricane of change is on the horizon, but before you panic, know that it's a welcome change. This is a change that your soul called in, so that you can experience much more happiness, wealth, joy, and beautiful experiences…and 55... Angel number 55 is a powerful message from your guardian angels to embrace change and adventure in your life. It's a sign that major life changes are coming. An angel is bringing you closer to your life’s purpose. It signals a desire to leave behind old habits in favor of fresh new ones. It tells you that your prayers are being or are about to be answered.’”

She looked over to see my reaction. I sat perfectly still. I had goosebumps. I didn’t say a word.

“That accurate huh?” she giggled.

“Would you mind if I took that with me for a bit and return it to you later?” I asked feeling half foolish.

“Of course!” she said excitedly.

“Thanks!” I replied smiling back at her for the first time.

The next morning, I woke feeling a strange sense of hopefulness. There is no way that all of this is just one big coincidence. What are the odds, really? This is crazy, do you hear how crazy you sound? What was happening? The crazy lady’s crazy was rubbing off on me. But I felt good. For the first time in a very long time, I felt good. That was enough to make me want to give it consideration. Something was changing. I didn’t know what, but something felt different. In a good way. I looked over at the clock to see what time it was. 6:16 am. Are you kidding me? I pulled out the book I had borrowed from the crazy lady. I really need to find out her name I thought as I flipped frantically through the pages to find 616. 'Angel number 616 is often seen as a sign of angelic intervention. They are usually considered to be angelic guardians who will help you in your time of need.' Was this really happening? Were angels real? Were my prayers actually being answered? By angels? This is too weird. This cannot be happening. This is not possible. But the black and white ink on the page before me begged to differ.

I pulled on my robe, grabbed my slippers, and ran down the boardwalk, book in hand. I stopped in front of the hut I had been welcomed into the day before. I stared at the hut number marker hanging on its wall outside. 616.

“Of course,” I said laughing aloud. Just then the woman came to the door greeting me with a smile.

“Well, someone is in a better mood this morning. What’s the good news?”

She grinned and giddily clapped her hands.

“616!”

She looked at me a little puzzled.

“My hut numbers?” she asked.

“No, I mean, well, yeah,” I was not making sense and I knew it.

“But it was also 6:16 when I woke up and looked at my clock. Then I remembered the book I had found. The page I had marked with this resort on it…”

“Let me guess. 616?”

“Yes, and not just that! I pulled out my flight ticket…”

“616?”

“Then I ran to your hut and realized…”

“616!”

“Yes!” I exclaimed loudly.

“Ok, so let’s hear it”

I opened the book and read the passage I had found a few moments earlier.

“Well, there you have it! Can’t argue with that now, can we?”

“Is all this really happening? This cannot all be real. This is absurd right?”

“Says who?”

“Um, just everyone that has ever lived ever...” I said sarcastically.

“And who are they? Everyone is lost. Everyone has forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?”

“The truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“None of this is a coincidence. You begged for help in prayer, found that book, came here, and now you are seeing these numbers.”

“No, it can’t be! Right?” I wanted reassurance that I was not losing my mind, so badly.

“No, it can’t! It’s like something out of a book. This has all happened for a reason.”

“But what is the reason?”

“That is something you are going to have to figure out.”

“What is your name by the way?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I am Muriel. Nice to officially meet you, Eni.” At that, she held out her hand and laughed.

Had I introduced myself? I wondered silently. Had to have, otherwise how would she know?

“Well, nice to finally meet you too, Muriel” I shook her hand and giggled at the irony of my words.

I returned to my hut breathless from all the excitement. I pulled the small book of baby names I carried with me from my bag. I had gotten it when I was trying to pick out my daughter’s name. It was interesting for me to read the meaning of all the names. It had kind of become a hobby of mine. When I would meet someone new, I would look up the meaning of their name just for fun. ‘M, M, M, M-U, M-U R,.. Here we go, Muriel. Muriel – Perfume of God. Wait a minute. I think I remember seeing this name in That angel number book. I grabbed it and ran back to my bed quickly flipping to the back where there was a list of all of the angels’ names. Muriel- Guardian angel Muriel is the archangel of intuition and emotional harmony. Her name means “perfume of God,” and she is known to connect with people through a form of psychic communication of smell. A gentle and compassionate archangel, Muriel comes to the aid of all who call upon her. I replayed Muriel’s voice in my head ‘It’s like something out of a book’ echoed over and over.’ I flipped back through the baby name book to find my full name: Enitan. ‘Nigerian name of Yoruba origins. It means someone with a story to tell, a legend. I looked at all 3 of my books laid out before me like pieces of a puzzle. I started to piece them together. Muriel,… the smell of flowers, guardian angel, comes to the aid of all who call, something out of a book…Enitan, someone with a story to tell. I jumped up and without putting on my robe or slippers and breathlessly barefoot ran down the boardwalk to Muriel’s hut. I pounded on the door to no avail. I turned the knob to see if the door was locked. It cracked open and I slowly peeked my head inside.

“Muriel?!” I called. “Muriel, are you there?! I have something else to show you!”

No answer.

I walked through the hut looking for my new friend. She wasn’t there. Anywhere. Nothing was there actually. All her things were gone. Had she left? Without even saying goodbye? There is no way. I walked to the hut next door and frantically knocked. A man opened the door rubbing his eyes and looking on at me in confusion.

“Is there a problem?”

“Um, yeah,… the woman that was in the hut next door to you…”

“What woman?”

“Muriel. She was tall, thin, tan, she was staying in 616…”

“I haven’t seen any woman. I haven’t seen anyone in that hut since we got here.”

“Surely you must have seen her. I was just here visiting her yesterday.”

“I remember seeing you, but you were alone.”

“No, I was with Muriel.” Now I was starting to get angry, what exactly was he insinuating?

“Look lady, I have been here for 2 weeks, and I have not seen any woman come and go from that hut except for you. I don’t know what you are talking about. Now, do you mind? You woke me up.”

“Ok, fine”

“Thanks for nothing...” I mumbled under my breath.

I went to every hut on that row. I got the same answer. What was happening? There is no way I just imagined all of this. She was here! I touched her, I smelled her, I spoke with her, and she gave me a book!

“The book!”

I ran back to my hut and flipped through the pages. As I did, a single white feather and a small slip of paper fell out. I picked up the feather and piece of paper from the floor of my hut. I slowly unfolded it, my hand shaking. I caught a whiff of Muriel’s plumeria. Written on the paper was a single line:

‘Tell YOUR story. -Muriel.’

I looked up in disbelief. This was real, tangible proof. I was not imagining This! I also knew at that moment that Muriel wasn’t who I had thought she was at all.

“Tell my story? No... tell OUR story.” I said with a smile.