Blinded by Color

By Elisha Gadbois

Colors splashed behind the blind man’s eyes as he stumbled through a crowded marketplace. An eruption pulsing between blood red and pale blue shouldered past. A burst of yellow and brown darted in front. Kolzak swallowed down a wave of nausea, forcing himself not to collapse under the colors relentlessly smashing into his mind–colors from the souls and the shouts and the noise.

He had walked down the same boulevard twenty-three years ago, surrounded by fresh beauty and tranquility. Splashing of fountains. Shade from purple-leafed trees. The aroma of roses drifting through the quiet air.

Then Borislav had destroyed all of it. Kolzak trembled with rage. His mother’s screams tore through the marketplace clamor as her bright red blood blotted out the other colors. Scarlet liquid of life, pooling against pristine white marble floors.

The last thing he had ever seen.

He clamped his jaw against a scream. Borislav would regret every life and every eye he ever took, and he would pay infinitely for each one. But first, Kolzak had to get his sight back.

“Someone help me!” he shouted, his voice hoarse from shouting it all day. “Please!”

At best, the colors around him ignored his cries. At worst, they swore at him and knocked him to the ground to be trampled.

A cloud of blueberry and creamy yellow washed in front of him, sprouting a glimmer of hope. A soul with similar colors had given him some bread once. Then a tendril of black stained the cloud and snatched away his hope. “Shut up,” the man yelled. “We’re cursed enough without the likes of you!”

Spit slapped his face. A shove from behind. Kolzak tumbled onto the filthy street. The rag that covered the scarred flaps of flesh where his eyes used to be slipped off. Several people shrieked and stomped on him in their rush to get away.

Kolzak clenched his teeth and tugged the rag back in place, a sense of defeat overwhelming his pain-riddled body. If he didn’t get help, he would never reach Beregavo Street, much less get his sight back. Yet, it was clear that not one soul in this wretched city would risk a curse falling upon them by helping a blind man.

He struggled up, muscles pulsing, bones aching, and back protesting. The decades had not been favorable on his once toned body.

A pair of hands gripped his shoulder and clasped his forearm, gently but firmly helping him stand. A fountain bubbling in sea blue and emerald green washed away all the chaos. He stood unmoving. In twenty-three years, no one had ever voluntarily touched him. Nor had he ever seen such peaceful, beautiful colors from any soul.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” The girl laughed directly into his ear. Pomegranate swirls. “Crowded streets are dangerous for blind men! What’re you doing out here anyway?”

“Who are…” His voice grated against his raw throat.

More pomegranate swirls. “Let’s not shout. Here, I’ll lead you somewhere quieter.”

She placed her hand in his, so small and yet so strong and calloused, and guided him to the side. A multitude of color tinged the rim of his mind’s eye, but her blue-green fountain bubbled over most of them and gave his mind its first rest in decades. He had forgotten how refreshing seeing only one thing at a time was.

The girl led him down a quieter side street. She let go of his hand, and Kolzak cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” She chuckled. “It was mighty silly of you to be out there. What were you doing?”

Kolzak looked warily at the blue-green fountain. “I… need help. I’m trying to get to Beregavo Street.”

He braced himself for a verbal or physical attack, or at least for the fountain to melt away. But none of it came.

“No you’re not,” the girl declared confidently. “There’s nothing on Beregavo Street. Except for a booth selling the worst wooden spoons in the world. Where are you really going?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. Why did she dare to speak with him for so long? “I told you, Beregavo Street.”

“Why? Do you live there?”

“No.”

“Then what are you going to do there?”

Panic gripped him. “Why should I tell you?” He instantly cringed at how sharp his words came out and clumsily tried to make up for it. “Because… what if you… you…”

“Zounds, I’m not dangerous. Even if I was, what could I want from you? No offense,” she added quickly. “You seem like a nice guy.”

Kolzak studied the blue-green fountain, rippling in magnificent swirls like the feathers of a zelenis bird. Not a speck of inky black malice. Not a stroke of lime green deception. The most beautiful, pure soul he’d ever seen. Perhaps with her… he could dare to hope again.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been searching for a map that will lead me to where I can get my sight back. Beregavo Street is the first step. But I need your help. Could you… will you help me?”

“Of course!”

Kolzak started, not expecting her to answer so quickly, much less in the affirmative.  “Really?”

“Yeah!” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward. “Come on. It’s a long way, so we should get moving.”

Kolzak stumbled after her, dark orange speckles dancing in front of him as a wagon rolled by. “But… why? Why are you helping me? Aren’t you afraid you’ll be… cursed?”

The girl laughed, tangerine bubbles. “Well, for one, map hunting is too exciting to pass up.” The bubbles faded into a pale blue sheen of sadness. “And, for another… I know what it’s like. You’re not the only one oppressed by a false curse.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Elisha Gadbois is a teenage storyteller who finds comfort in Jesus Christ and in the scent of books. Her current project is The Enchanted Forest, the first book in a fantasy/sci-fi trilogy inspired by her travels to over twenty countries. If she had free time, she would invent a way to read in the ocean. In the meantime, she enjoys learning about scientific discoveries, playing her three instruments, and racing to solve mathematical equations.

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Author Website