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The
Rejoining - Tarot: The Empress
ISBN: 1-55410-720-2
Copyright
ã 2006 Jojo Brown
Cover art
and design by Martine Jardin
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work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other
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Published
by eXtasy Books 2006
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The
Rejoining - Tarot: The Empress
By
Jojo
Brown
The
Empress
In Tarot, The Empress represents everything that a
mother does. She nurtures and cares for all around her. She strives to bring
everything she comes into contact with to its fullest potential.
In the negative, she can be rather overbearing and
smother that which she so intently tries to protect.
To anyone and everyone who has every looked at the stars and
wondered…
Prologue
Have you ever noticed how odd it is that no two people remember
things the same way?
The
participants can remember something as simple as a first date completely
different. For example, he will say that her dress was blue, while she insists
that it was green. She will remember the beautiful tie that he wore that night,
while he is sure that he wore his collar open. No matter whether they remember
the details in the same way, if you are talking to a couple that has been
married for more than a few years, they will both tell you one important detail
the same way … it was the beginning of a wonderful journey.
Even
important events, life-shattering moments in a person's life, when witnessed by
more than one person, can have as many versions of the facts as there
are witnesses. Take a car accident for instance. While investigating the
incident, the police might hear that the first car was blue, or black or green.
One person will insist that the light was green. Another is certain that it was
red. Some people will insist that there were no lights at that particular
corner.
The
police will get overwhelming information like
"The
truck crossed the center line."
"The
white car was turning right!"
"No!
The truck was white and it was turning left."
"There
was no truck."
"Both
cars were blue and the southbound one spun out and hit the other one."
The
human mind is an amazing thing, but it is not a computer. Imagination
influences all of us. Data is added as simple fact, but we bend it and mold it,
until it becomes what we want it to be.
With
all of that said, I hope that you will understand and try to forgive any slight
fact bending that may be contained within these pages. I will try to write this
all down as true to what happened as I can; but while I may be using a computer
to hold all of this information, keep in mind that I am human. It is all coming
from my own experiences and memories. It may not be terribly important to most
who read it, but hopefully it will touch and enlighten some of you.
One
March
thirteenth was one of those life-changing days for many people. Most of them
would tell you that it as a rather black day in the history of our town. Mr.
Bob Davidson would tell you that it was the worst day of his life. The teachers
from the school would undoubtedly tell you that it was one of the scariest days
they had ever lived through. I am sure the students on the other hand, would
say that it was a good day. Since the school was gone, they got some time off
from their studies.
At
the time when it all happened, I am positive that the businessman's association
would have been angry and very concerned for the town, although after, they
were all very glad that it happened. The revenue from the tourists was good for
the whole town.
For
me, it was the greatest day of my life. It was the day that my life finally
made sense. I finally fit in. I truly belonged somewhere.
* * * *
For as
long as I can remember, I was different. I saw things and heard things that no
one else seemed to be able to. I had never been comfortable in the dark. It was
to the point that I would leave a light burning through the night. If I had to
get up, I would turn lights on as I went through the house, even though I knew
instinctively where every stick of furniture was located, with my eyes closed.
I
cannot remember exactly when this unforgiving fear of the dark began, but I do
know when it ended.
Before
I tell you about that day though, we need to go back further, in time. You need
to understand how everything happened, how I ended up in that place at that
time and why.
I
was born in a maternity hospital in
I
do not remember any of this, of course. I only know all of it, because I had
heard the story of my mother going into labor as she was getting into a car to
go out for dinner, many times. The early arrival and ruined dinner plans were
not the only strange things about my entrance though, but I did not learn about
the rest of it until I was an adult. In fact, I was thirty-six.
* * * *
Before
my grandmother passed away, she felt that I needed to know the whole story.
Lying on her hospital-style bed, in the nursing home, she should have been
concentrating more on breathing with that damned tube in her nose. Instead, as
soon as I got there for my regular weekly visit, she pulled it out and called
me over to her side.
Carefully
placing the oxygen tube back into her nostrils, I told her that I would stay by
her side and listen, as long as she kept it in. She pressed something into my
hand and watched my face, seemingly looking for a reaction. It was some sort of
off-white medallion or charm, on a long silver chain
Examining
it, I was amazed. At first, I thought it was made out of ivory, but on closer
inspection, I was sure it was bone. It was about the size of a silver dollar,
but not so symmetrical in shape. The edges were rougher, almost stretched. The
surface facing me did not seem to have any markings; turning it over I was once
again amazed.
On
the front of it, there were intricate engravings; a five point star over a separated
circle, which I can only describe as a stylized, yin-yang, symbol, on the left
of it was a capital 'Z' and on the right a matching 'E'. It was unlike anything
I had ever seen before.
Without
lifting my gaze to her, I asked quietly, "What is this, Nanny? Whose is
it?"
"I
am not sure precisely what it is, my dear," my sweet, tired grandmother
whispered, "but it has been yours since before you were born."
"What
are you talking about,
"Oh,
my sweet girl, you don't understand. Now, be still and I will try to explain it
all as best I can." Taking a deep shuddering breath, my grandmother
launched into the strangest story I had ever heard.
I
knew that there was some sort of mystery surrounding my birth and my mother's
death, six years later, but everyone had always avoided the topic whenever I
was around. Hoping that I was finally going to hear what had happened back
then, I moved from the easy chair and sat carefully on the side of the bed.
Taking Nanny's fragile hand in my own, I tried to prepare myself for what I was
about to hear.
I
failed!
Two
"First
of all," she began, "I have to go back to nearly a year before you
were born. Your mother went missing. I mean, she just vanished off the face of
the earth. She was gone for more than a month and when she showed up on my
doorstep, she had absolutely NO memory of where she had been. She didn't know
who she had been with, either.
"It
was such a shock for all of us. She just walked through the door as if nothing
was out of the ordinary. She was wearing the exact same clothes she'd had on
the day she went away. The only thing different was that they were all
backwards, her blouse was buttoned against her spine, her skirt was zipped in
the front; even her bra and knickers were turned around. She didn't seem to
realize that anything was out of the ordinary or that she had been away at all.
"She
just walked in the door and said that she was there to pick up your brother,
Adam. You see, I had been watching him for her the day she disappeared so she
could go and see about a job. She never did make it to that interview.
"Your
father was frantic. He called the police as soon as we found out she was
missing. It never even once crossed any of our minds that she could have left
of her own free will; something had to be amiss. Everyone searched for any sign
of her. They even went through the scrub in the countryside.
"After
a month, we were all just hoping to at least find a body, so that we would be
able to put some sort of closure to it all. Adam had stopped crying for her
constantly, except at night. He was still having terrible nightmares of her
just fading away.
"He
had overheard the adults talking and envisioned his beloved mother simply
evaporating the way a puddle does in the heat of the summer.
"When
I look back on it, I realize that we should have been a lot more careful with
what we discussed in front of him. Maybe if we had, things would have turned
out differently in his life.
"But
that day--when Sandra just walked back into our lives--the light came back on
in that little boy's eyes, as well as your father's. He had been lost without
his wife by his side. They were two halves of the same whole back then, from
the moment they first met, they had spent every possible second together.
"Back
then things had been different … she had been different. I know you
remember your mother as being cold and distant, but that is not how it always
was. Before she disappeared, she was a very different kind of person.
"Anyway,
that was not what I want to tell you about; it's your birth and the truth about
what really happened.
"It
is true that you came early and that there was sadness mixed in with the joy
everyone felt at your sudden arrival. It's not because you were a girl, instead
of another son for your father, the way you have been lead to believe.
"You
were born feet first. You have always landed on your feet ever since, just the
way the superstition says.
"You
also had a veil over your face, which means that a part of the amniotic sac was
over your face. No one knows quite how it happened though. It should have
pulled off as you slid down the birth canal, backwards. If the old wives' tale
is true, you will never die by drowning.
"I
can tell by the look on your face that you're thinking that this is the amazing
part … well, it's not!
"As
you were born, your hands were the last things to slip from the relative safety
of your mother's womb. One nurse fainted as your right hand fell loose and two
others joined her on the floor as the left one finally broke free."
Looking
down at my hands, I tried to see what could have been wrong with them at my
birth that could have caused such a commotion in the delivery room. They looked
perfectly fine to me. In stunned silence, I listened as my grandmother
continued.
"In
the clenched fist of your right hand, you were holding that very same pendant.
Of course, without the chain, I added that later, to keep it safe. If you look
closely at the back of it, you should be able to see tiny imprints, where your
fingers were pressed into it."
Turning
the charm over, I could in fact see what now appeared to be tiny finger marks.
I realized that I had been holding my breath for sometime, when my lungs began
screaming for replenishment.
As
I pulled as much air inside of me as I could, pain seared through my chest.
Tears
spilled from both of my eyes to stream down my face, gathering at my chin
before falling to be silently, absorbed by the material of my sleeve. I became
aware that Nanny had stopped speaking.
Turning
to look at her softly wrinkled face, so peaceful in its repose, so still and
quiet … an iron fist grabbed hold of my chest. Not yet. Please, not yet. Don't
die yet!
Praying
that she was not dead, I whispered hoarsely, "My left hand, Nanny. What
was in my left hand?"
"Amy,"
Nanny breathed.
Her
hand slipped from mine, to rest lifelessly upon the starched white sheet. She
was so small, I had never noticed before. Her skin looked as though it was made
out of tissue paper, so thin that I could see the veins as they carried
life-sustaining blood throughout her weary body.
Nanny
never woke up again. She had delivered her unbelievable story, leaving even
more questions than it answered and then just faded away.
For
three days, she balanced precariously on the edge between this life and the
next. Finally, just after
Three
I never
mentioned Nanny's last story, until a week or so after the funeral. With all of
the heightened emotion as well as the necessary arrangements, it just never
seemed like the right time.
Then,
one afternoon, I found my father sitting in front of the television, staring
mindlessly at the images flickering across the screen.
As
usual, it was clear that his mind was elsewhere. So intent was his gaze that he
appeared to be in some sort of a trance. I took the opportunity to just stand
in the doorway and look at him.
When
had he gotten so old? How had his hair thinned out so much and grown so grey
without my noticing? I was also quite certain that he had shrunk.
He
had always seemed to be so big, towering over me. Now, I knew that I stood at
least an inch taller than he did. Seemingly overnight, he had transformed from
a tower of steel, into an old man with no real power in his form.
Maybe
I could talk to him after all. My abject fear of his temper no longer seemed to
make as much sense to me as it had in the past.
Clearing
my throat, I stepped into the room, darkened with tightly closed blinds.
"Dad?"
My voice sounded tiny, even to my own ears.
Taking
a deep breath, I tried again, a bit louder. "Dad! I need to talk to you."
Slowly,
turning just his head in my direction, his eyes bored into me, "What is it
girl? I am trying to watch the
I
stood there, frozen to the spot, with the old fear rushing through me. I saw a
single tear erupt from the corner of his pale eye to sit glistening on his
crinkled, weathered cheekbone. It was like watching a cell door swing open.
That
tiny drop of salty liquid was my ticket out. This man, who had ruled over my
every waking moment, was after all… just a man.
My
fingers and toes tingled; I felt the blood rushing through my veins, with
newfound strength. My spine straightened. My shoulders pulled back, opening my
chest to allow more air to rush in and out of my suddenly powerful lungs.
As
I spoke, with no tremor or apology in my voice, I strode into the room and
stood in front of the television.
"Dad,
the news has been over for more than half an hour. You are sitting here in the
dark, staring at nothing."
Pushing
the button, I cut the senseless drivel being expelled by some simpering soap
opera actor and turned to face my father. "I need to talk to you."
"What
the hell is this, Ella? Since when do you tell me what you do or do not need? I
am your father. You will show me the respect that I demand!" His voice, in
sudden anger, still held the old, remembered strength; the one that I would
normally hide from or do whatever necessary to avoid invoking.
I
had not moved. I had not curled into a ball or run away. Even when he jumped to
his feet right in front of me, I had not so much as flinched.
I
just quietly stated, "I need to talk to you. Nanny told me some things
about my birth and I need you to clarify some of it for me. As you were there,
I need you to tell me what happened."
Slowly
sinking back into the chair he had so recently vacated, it was clear that my
father had had the wind blown out of his sails.
"What
the hell did that old bat tell you?" His eyes were focused somewhere
behind me, somewhere far beyond the four walls that surrounded us.
"A
crazy, unbelievable story. I am almost positive that she must have been
hallucinating. But, Dad, who is Amy?"
"Amy?"
"Yes
Dad, Amy. Who is she? It was the last thing Nanny said to me. The name Amy."
Kneeling
in front of my father, I rested my hands on the dusty knees of his old farm
pants. Looking up I saw an unrecognizable face. It was the face of confusion,
or perhaps fear.
"I
know that I have heard that name mentioned before dad. Right here in this
house. Always in hushed tones. Who is Amy, Dad? Please tell me."
"Your
mother had a friend named Amy. She was a nurse at the hospital, where you were
born. As far as I know, she was with her, when you came. At least, she is the
one who came out to the waiting room to let me know we had you.
"Things
were done differently, back in the old days. Women were a lot stronger than
they are today. They weren't mollycoddled the way they are now. They just went
in and had the babies and we stayed out in the waiting room, the way it should
be. A man does his part, when he plants his seed; it's up to the woman from
there on. And, if anything goes wrong, it's her fault."
"But
Dad, Nanny said that there were some strange things about my birth. Surely you
remember what happened."
Finally
focusing his eyes on me, as if he had just realized that I was still there, "I
told you--I wasn't there! How should I know what happened for sure? I waited in
the waiting room--you were born--that's all I know."
Pulling
the chain from its hiding place under my sweater, I held the pendant in my
hand. For some unknown reason, I had kept it a secret, hidden against my
breast, until now.
Opening
my hand to show it to my father, I asked him, "Do you know where this came
from?"
The
transformation of his face was very nearly the most terrifying thing I had ever
seen. All the color drained from him. His eyes widened, so that I feared they
might fall from their sockets. His lips peeled back into a fearsome grimace,
exposing shrunken gums and stained teeth.
With
a sudden movement, he pushed me away, sent me sprawling, painfully to the
floor. Jumping to his feet, he literally ran to the other side of the room.
"Where
did you get that thing?" His strangled voice was nothing even close to the
strong, baritone I had grown up with.
Tears
were now streaming down his face. My father was scared. No, he was terrified!
Closing my hand again around the small disk, I felt its warmth.
"But
what is it, Dad? Where did it come from?"
"Ask
her!" he screamed, "Ask your mother."
"Oh
sure. I'll just do that," I yelled right back at him, feeling the tears
now soaking my own cheeks.
"I'll
go ask someone who has been dead since I was six years old. I know, I'll have a
séance and say 'Excuse me … spirit of my dead mother … but I have a question
for you …'"
"She's
not dead." He said it so quietly that I wasn't sure if I had actually
heard him right.
"What
did you say?"
Opening
the front door, he turned back to me, "I said she's not dead. She's at
Four
I'm not
sure how long I sat there in the middle of the living room floor, stunned by
what I had just heard. My father had not come back into the house, as far as I
knew. I didn't know where he went nor did I care.
By
the time I pulled myself together, my legs were asleep from sitting on the
hardwood floor and the sun was setting. As I stood, stamping my feet to get
some feeling back into them, I knew what I had to do. I just hoped that I had
the strength to do it.
I
had to leave.
I
had to find the answers for myself, and I had to find someone to help me.
It
was so cold, I wasn't sure that my old Ford Ranger would even start for me. I
threw a hastily packed bag onto the passenger side floor of the truck's cab and
jammed the key into the ignition. Praying that my faithful old truck would
still have what it took, I turned the key. After only two or three tries, the
engine rolled over and caught.
Throwing
it into gear, I slammed my foot down on the accelerator and tore down the
ice-packed laneway. Sliding sideways out onto the gravel road, I had one
thought in mind. I had to get to Chris. He was the only one that I could think
of that could or would help me.
When
old Doctor Stockwell retired, Chris took over his practice.
His
wife had left him after only being here for a little over a year. She had never
been able to handle living in a small town and the winter out here in the
prairie, had been too much for her.
She'd
moved back to
For
the ten years after her unceremonious departure, Doctor Christopher Andrew
McLean had not only been the town's physician, he was also the town's most
eligible bachelor. At least as far as the general population knew at that
moment, he still was.
At
forty years old, Chris was still a very good-looking man, in excellent physical
condition. He and I had become very good friends, more than two years earlier,
while my grandmother still lived at home on the farm. Chris would come out to
tend to her, on a moments notice.
House
calls were a regular part of his practice. His philosophy had always been that
farmers are just too busy to be sick. On more than one occasion, he had been
known to say, if I didn't go out to check on them, we would be finding their
bones out in the fields, dry as the prairie grasses in August.
For
the most part, he more than likely was right. Of course, the townsfolk and the
younger generation of farmers all saw him at the office. The twenty-first
century has brought so many new innovations that even the farmers have more
free time on their hands.
Not
the 'old-timers', though. They stick to the old ways, communing with the earth,
feeling the soil in their fingers and watching the weather by looking at the
sky instead of some computer readout. Somehow, their produce always tasted
better to me.
When
Nanny was moved into the nursing home, Chris continued to find reasons to come
out to the farm. He eventually asked me out for dinner, for the first time,
about thirteen months before Nanny died. He was my first and only real
love, I had been with a few select other men, but none of them compared to
Chris. Not only was he older and more experienced in the fine art of
lovemaking, he seemed to truly want to focus in on my needs, my wants.
I
still remember the first time he buried his beautiful face between my thighs.
His tongue sought out and found my until-then-shy clit. With deft flicks and swirls,
he coaxed that tiny bundle from its hiding place and introduced my whole body
to the glorious world of screaming orgasms. My thighs and his entire face
glistened with the great waves of fluid he drew from my shuddering body.
That
alone would have been enough to keep me coming back to him, but he also became
my savior, my anchor, in the turbulent waters of my life. I could turn to him
whenever I needed him, no matter what. I don't think I had ever needed anyone
as much as I needed him that strangely cold March night.
Jumping
from the cab of my truck before it had come to a complete stop, I ran to the
door of Chris' home. Leaving the truck where it had landed, with its front end
shoved into a snow-bank, as I'd slid into the driveway, I only thought of my
extreme need to get to Chris.
All
the lights were out in the front of the building, which housed the medical
practice for Chris and his partner of two and a half years, Joe Connelly.
There
in the back, I saw a light shining through the paned window of the door. I
hoped that meant Chris was home. If he was out on a call, I didn't know what I
would do. Pressing my ear to the cold glass surface of the window, trying to
hear some sign of life inside, I pounded.
I
pounded on that metal door so hard, for so long, that my unprotected knuckles
were split and bleeding when Chris finally pulled the door open.
He'd
been in the shower.
He
stood there in nothing but a fluffy white towel, wrapped around his waist when
I fell through the door, into his arms. Holding my cold, trembling body against
his warm moist one, he pushed the door closed with a dripping foot.
As
the bitter cold air that had rushed through the door with me, hit his warm wet
skin, a cloud of steam surrounded us.
"She's
not dead. She's not dead. He told me she's not dead," was all I could keep
sobbing into his shoulder. My absolute distress was so intense that I didn't
even notice that the towel had slid from his hips and he stood in the entry
hall of his home, holding me, completely naked. Once he stepped back, to guide
me into the living room, my gaze fell to his well-loved cock. Even in this time
of fear and confusion, I could feel my inner core heating at the sight of him.
Five
"Ella,
what's going on?" Chris asked again, once he had me settled on the sofa in
his cozy living room, with a steaming mug of coffee in my quickly bandaged
hands. "Who is it precisely, that is not dead?"
"My
mother."
As
Chris pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, I tried my best to explain to
him about the story that my grandmother had told me, as well as, my father's
reaction to it all. Sitting beside me on the sofa, he asked to see the
necklace.
I
pulled it from under my sweater, slipped the chain over my head and passed it
to him, reluctant to let the strangely comforting warmth go.
He
held it on the palm of his hand and immediately began to shiver. Severe
trembling took over his entire body and his teeth were chattering so violently,
I thought he was having a seizure. Staring intently at the unusual markings on
the pendant, his breathing came in short gasps.
Looking
closer at his hand, I snatched the chain and pendant away from him. There were
ice crystals on his skin, where the pendant had sat. Chris looked up into my
eyes. "It's so cold, so extremely cold--it was like it was burning me, but
I couldn't move."
With
the chain safely back around my neck, I took his hand in both of my own and
blew the warmth of my breath onto his chilled skin.
"Ella,
what is that thing? How can you stand to have it touching your skin? It's so
cold."
"Not
to me, Chris. It feels warm against my skin. It makes me feel safe and oddly
strong."
Moving
to snuggle into his side, resting my head on his shoulder, I allowed myself to
enjoy the feeling of safety, found only in his arms. I also let my heart guide
my fingers as they traced up the length of his denim-clad thigh and closed
around the warm bulge at his crotch. His soft moan against my hair, told me
that he was fighting against the urge to just forget about what had happened,
and rip my clothes off. I'm not so sure that I would have stopped him.
Instead,
he wrapped his hand around my searching fingers and pulled them away. "Why
do you have that thing Ella?
"I'm
afraid of it somehow, but I am also unexplainably drawn to it. What can it be,
Chris? Where do you think it came from? I need to find my mother. I have to
know the truth. Please, help me."
"Of
course I will help you. At least I will try to." His promise was
accompanied with a tender kiss on the top of my head.
Lifting
my face to him, looking into his wonderful eyes, I found the strength and
assurance that I so richly needed. "What are we going to do, Chris?"
"First
of all, we are going to do this." With the slightest shift in position,
his mouth captured mine.
I
swear to you that I felt that kiss all the way down to my toes. Chris and I had
shared a kiss, many times before, but it had never felt so fulfilling. It was
almost as though he had entered my soul and brought a light to all of the
lingering dark corners within me. I quite literally melted into him.
Every
nerve ending, in my entire body came to blazing life, as his tongue ran rampant
with mine. He tasted warm and masculine, with just a hint of mint that lingered
from his recent use of toothpaste. I felt my nipples harden and press almost
painfully against the confines of my bra. My pussy swelled and throbbed softly,
when his arms pulled me tighter against him.
As
he lifted his mouth from mine, a feeling of shuddering sadness at the loss of
that contact overcame me, accompanying the heavy, gasping breaths that came
from both of us. Behind it though, there was a feeling of completeness. That
was exactly where I was meant to be at that exact moment in time. I don't know
how I knew that--I just knew it, right down to the core of my being.
"Now,
I am going to make some phone calls and see what I can find out," he told
me softly, as though he regretted having to move away from me, as much as I
regretted having him go.
After
getting the number for Mountain View Institute from information, Chris winked
at me and punched the numbers on the keypad of the phone.
While
he made that call, I went back out to the truck to get my bag. Changed into
warmer, more comfortable clothes, I joined him back in the living room, with a
fresh cup of coffee for each of us. I was shocked to find him sitting on the
sofa, staring at the wall.
"I
don't think I like that look on your face. What did they have to say?" I
handed him his steaming mug.
"They
won't tell me anything without the original registration code."
"And
what, pray tell, is a registration code, exactly?"
"It's
the patient number, under which your mother was registered at the institute. It
would have been on the copy of her registration that stays in her files."
"Okay.
So crank up that handy-dandy computer of yours and find my mother's number."
"I'm
afraid it's not that easy."
"Why
not?" I couldn't understand why he was being so obstinate. Why else would
he have a computer if not to hold the myriad of files that a doctor needs to
have on hand?
"I
only put the information about the patients that I actively see, into the
computer. Your mother hasn't been an active patient with this practice for more
than thirty years."
"Well
then, where are my mother's files?"
Taking
a deep breath and blowing it out in a long, low whistle, Chris closed his eyes
and rested his head on the back of the sofa. "They have to be in the
dungeon."
"The
what?"
Believe
me, when I say that it did not take me long to agree with Chris about his
dungeon theory.
Taking
our coffees with us and arming ourselves with flashlights, we ventured into the
basement beneath the front section of the building. Old Doc Stockwell had not
been the most organized or tidy person in the world.
Chris
hadn't found, or made, the time to do anything about the mess down there. He
probably never imagined having to find a lost file amongst the mess.
Dust
encrusted boxes were stacked, haphazardly from floor to ceiling, the bottommost
ones elaborately decorated with black and red mold. Old cobwebs draped between
the rafters, grey with their film of ancient, undisturbed dust. All of the
surfaces, softened with the buildup of their intricate lace.
As
the beams from our flashlights passed over the surfaces, we could hear soft
scurrying. With a look, it was clear that neither of us wanted to meet whatever
it was that made those sounds.
Starting
with the boxes closest to hand, we began our seemingly impossible task. Having
assumed that, even though they were in a jumbled mess here in the dark, dank
dungeon, they would be in some sort of order … I was dumbfounded.
Not
only were the thousands of files not in any sort of order, they were also mixed
together. Whoever had put them all in the boxes, hadn't even taken the time to
make sure that one person's files were separate from another's.
Even
though it seemed an insurmountable task, we kept at it.
When
Chris finally looked at his watch, we were both amazed to find it was nearly
Chris
sat back on his heels, after closing the last box he'd searched. He stretched
with his arms raised, rolling his shoulders, and yawned loudly. "Let's
call it a night, sweetheart. We can have a go at it again in the morning."
Luckily,
it was Saturday the next day and Chris didn't have office hours. Unless some
sort emergency came up, of course. We wearily made our way back up the stairs,
accompanied by a film of dust and cobwebs.
Six
When I'd
thrown my clothes into the bag, in my haste to get away, I'd forgotten all
about nightclothes, so I borrowed a t-shirt from Chris. After a quick shower to
get rid of what felt like a two-inch layer of dungeon dust, I slipped into it
and a little pair of white panties.
As
I walked into the bedroom, Chris burst out laughing.
"What,
may I ask, is so funny, Dr. McLean?"
He
was laughing too hard to speak, so he just pointed at my feet. Looking down, I
found the source of his mirth--the sloppy pair of old work socks that I was
wearing to keep my feet warm.
"Well,
I don't like to have cold toes," I announced, embarrassment heated my
cheeks.
"Well
then, get over here and I will keep every inch of you warm."
The
cotton sheets were damn near frosty against my skin. I gasped and snuggled in
as close to Chris' side as possible, hoping to at least share some of his
warmth, if not steal it all. With the light filtering in from under the
bathroom door and Chris' arms securely around me, I felt as safe as I had in a
very long time.
"Thank
you for helping me, Chris." I whispered softly, against his bare chest.
"I
would do anything for you, Ella, surely you know that by now." His strong
hands soothed down my back and arm.
"We're
not doing anything wrong, are we? I mean, is it all right for me to be going
through those files and everything?"
"Well,
we may be walking a fine line, but as they are all old, non-active files, I
think we should be okay. Now stop your worrying and let me try to help you
forget."
Gently rolling me over onto my back, Chris started placing
small kisses along my cheekbones, the tip of my nose and finally his lips found
mine. It was there again instantly, that wonderful feeling of completion. If
only I could hold him against me forever, I could face whatever trial life
might throw my way.
As
his fingers made their way under the thin material of my makeshift nightie, I
ran my hands down his toned body. Pressing firmly against his skin to slide
below the waistband of his flannel pajama pants, I massaged the round flesh of
his firm buttocks, forcing him even closer against me.
With
a slow tenderness that stated clearly our belief that we had an eternity to
love each other, we each guided the other to ultimate release. His hands closed
on my breasts, kneading the soft flesh, lovingly. He pulled on my nipples with
thumb and finger as I lay writhing and moaning beneath him. His lips and tongue
upon my breasts and nipples caused ripples of heavenly tension to course
through my body. I dug my short, rounded nails into his shoulders and cried out
when his teeth gently grazed over the extremely sensitive flesh.
He
ran a wet slippery trail down between my breasts, over my soft tummy and down
to the trimmed hairs of my waiting pussy. As his tongue darted between the
swollen lips, to press on my engorged clit, I jumped.
"I
want to taste you, too." My voice came out on a purr.
He
wasted no time spinning around on the bed and I soon had more than half of his
hard cock in my mouth. The delight that I felt as I traced the length of the
heavy vein with my tongue was greater than anything I had ever known. He moaned
deeply into my pussy, the vibrations were so erotic along my slippery folds I
felt the first tremors of orgasm rocket through me.
With
even more vigor, I sucked his cock into my throat. The heat radiating from
between my thighs, soon blocked out any memory of the chilled air beyond the
room, as we rocked back and forth on each other. While snow may have been
falling, ice crystals coating everything on the other side of the window, beads
of sweat fell from Chris and me. It was almost as though we were in the middle
of a tropical rainforest.
More
than an hour passed as we explored each other's body thoroughly with hands and
mouths, as though that were the first time we had touched. Somehow, everything
was new again. Although I had given up my virginity years before, I felt fresh
and clean. Nothing had ever felt so right before.
As
I used my mouth to pleasure him, I marveled at my own ability to instinctively
know just the right amount of pressure from my tongue to mix with the motion
against him. Hearing his quiet, throaty moans, as if from a great distance, I
continued floating along on the cloud of ecstasy formed between his cock and my
lips.
As
the two of us joined in the most carnal way possible, the purity of the love I
felt for him overwhelmed me. Tears of absolute joy escaped my closed lids when
I opened myself to him fully. Never had a man filled me the way he did that
night.
His
cock had always filled me with something near to perfection, but that night it
was different. It was almost as though his need grew, or changed in some way,
to ensure my own pleasure. He touched every inch of my inner walls. The tight,
convulsing muscle in my pussy held and squeezed him. We had made love before,
but never had it been like that.
Every
movement was perfect. The pressure against my cervix, the feeling of his heat
as my deep muscles pulled against his shaft, his sac coming to rest momentarily
against me as we thrust deeply against each other.
It
was like nothing I had ever experienced before! We exploded together, in a
torrent of throaty moans and flood of hot fluid. His spurting seed, mixed with
my own flow of liquid to overflow and spill from around his tightly encased
cock and pool on the bed beneath my ass.
As
we lay together in the afterglow of our amazing joining, Chris spoke the words
to me that I had been waiting to hear my whole life.
"I love you Ella. With my whole heart, I love you and I will
do my best to protect you, for the rest of my life."
No words had ever been so beautiful to my ears. They replayed
repeatedly in my mind as I drifted off to sleep, held securely in the arms of
the man with whom I vowed to spend the rest of my life.
Seven
The next
morning we headed back down to the 'dungeon', after a lazy breakfast together.
The pile of boxes looked as if it had grown overnight. How there could be any
possibility of finding the single slip of paper we were searching for was
beyond me.
As
we slogged through the never-ending pile of papers, we began making a game out
of it, 'see who can find the strangest surname, or earliest date.'
We
even took to chuckling over some of the more outrageous symptoms people had
brought to the doctor, as well as the originality in his ways of handling some
of the situations.
My
favorite by far was a ninety-year-old man, who complained that his pisser--his
word, not mine-- didn't stand up the way it used to.
Old
Doc Stockwell's answer to the problem?
Patient was advised to visit Miss Fanny, at the red barn.
Prescription given for intense manipulation by hand, three times a week.
"The
old coot must've owned shares in the whorehouse," Chris roared with
laughter.
Just
as I was brushing the dust from my knees to head upstairs and get lunch ready,
Chris yelled, "I've got it!"
Tripping
over boxes, nearly falling headfirst into others, I rushed to his side. In his
hand was a tattered manila folder, about four inches thick. The name on the
front was Mrs. Sandra Marshall.
My
mother's medical records.
"Hopefully
the registration is in here somewhere and not just shoved into one of those
other boxes," Chris prayed, as we stood looking at that wonderful, dirty
folder.
Within
very short order, we were back upstairs, surrounded with old papers. The living
room looked as though a bomb had gone off in the middle of the coffee table.
Tears
fell unchecked, as I read my mother's medical records.
All
this, in three and a half short years--was that even possible?
We
had immigrated to
I
know that I was very young, but I could not understand how it could be possible
that I knew nothing about all of the turbulence in my family back then.
In
amongst the medical records there were reports and transcripts from a
psychiatrist that she was seeing. The first of these was from as early as 1977.
Scanning
through the myriad of files, I was devastated. The one repeating factor was
that Sandra had an irrational fear of her own daughter.
How
on earth could that even be possible?
The
mountain of papers told a terrifying tale that would make an excellent horror
flick. Sandra spoke of a toddler whom she was too afraid of to even be near,
let alone bond with the child.
A
child who held complete conversations with unseen people--moved objects without
touching them--levitated six inches above her bed while sleeping--told when and
how people would die --with unbelievable accuracy--and took her toys up onto
the roof at two in the morning to 'play with the stars'.
It
went on and on. She expressed her fear at every visit that the child would kill
her, if she tried to get in her way. She told the doctor that she was so
afraid; she had to lock herself in a room where the child could not get to her.
Reading
her terrifying account of running through the darkness, as fast as she could,
to escape the tiny red-eyed monster, my heart went out to this woman. How could
anyone know how to deal with that situation?
At
some point, I came to the sudden, mind-shattering realization that this was not
just some woman. This was my mother and the monster that she had been
describing, was me!
Not
possible!
I
was just a little girl.
There
were pictures back at the farm. I looked like an angel, with my shining curls
and pink ruffled dress. Even in the photos where I was wearing coveralls and
playing in the mud, I looked like any other precocious child.
There
were no pictures of her and me together, though, at least not after my first
birthday. I had always believed that my father had simply hidden them after her
death, to protect us all from the painful memories. Now it had become clear
that, there were in fact, no pictures of the two of us in existence.
I
knew that there was a box filled with snapshots of her and Adam. In every one
of those, the two of them were smiling playfully at the camera.
Adam.
My
wonderful, older brother.
As
a child, I had always seen him as my playmate. He was always more than willing
to get on the floor and play with me. He would build amazing structures with
Lego's for me to use as houses for my little dolls.
Even
though he was five years older than I was, we were always on the same level. He
was my best friend. Perhaps my only friend, until I turned eleven.
Adam
was sent away to a special school that year.
At
the time, all I knew was that it was a school for special boys. I was so
jealous of him.
He
got to leave the farm and live in a big fancy house. He went on exciting trips
with the other boys. He had escaped our father. He did not have to tiptoe
around and watch every word he said anymore.
Of
course, as I got older, I learned the truth.
Adam
had been diagnosed with 'Inflicted Autism', whatever that was. I accepted the
diagnosis as fact. After all, the doctors were supposed to know what they were
talking about, weren't they? Isn't that why they went to school for so long?
Now,
I was beginning to wonder.
Maybe
I could ask Chris about it later. Maybe he could tell me more about the
disorder that my brother suffered from; maybe he would know some way we could
help him.
I
had to go see Adam. He was older. He might have memories, so deeply buried,
that he did not even know that they were there. If I talked to him, we might be
able to work it all out.
I
knew that my mother's 'death' and Adam's illness were connected … they just had
to be.
Eight
"Ella!
Ella, did you hear me?"
What
was that? Of course, Chris. I was in his living room "Oh Chris, these
files are terrible." The sobs escaping my throat nearly choked me.
"Ella,
I found the registration code."
"The
what?" I was so confused, and then it all came back to me. "Oh right,
the code."
"Honey, are you okay?" He stepped over the mess to
take me in his arms. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
Leaning into him … drawing from his strength, I whispered, "Yes
Chris. I have to finish this. I have to know what happened."
I
looked at the file he was holding, "So, what does it say"
"Well,
she was declared criminally insane. It appears that your father found her,
trying to drown you in the bathtub, when you were six-years-old. His statement
from the commitment is attached, if you want to have a look at it."
Handing
the papers to me, as he stroked my back, he added, "It's pretty graphic.
Just remember that I am here for you."
My
father's statement read as follows.
At around
Sandra was in there, bent over the tub. At first, I thought she
was scrubbing it. I knew that it was bath day for the kids and she always
scrubbed the tub out with bleach, after Ella had her bath. She said that it was
her way of making sure that none of us would be infected with whatever it was
that was wrong with Ella. Although I have no idea, what she was always going on
about. As far as I could tell, the only thing wrong with Ella was that she
wanted Sandra's attention. She would follow her around the house, all day long,
asking her all sorts of questions. She really is such a sweet little girl. So
curious and full of life. Always smiling, always ready for a cuddle and a kiss.
Anyway, that night, when Sandra heard me walk into the bathroom,
she turned to look at me. Her eyes were huge and bloodshot. The pupils nearly
filled the whole colored spot. She started screaming at me. Crazy things, like 'She
can breathe under the water! Look at it! It's not human, Albert! She's not
human!'
That's when I saw what she was doing. She had Ella in that tub,
full of water. She had her under the water, holding her there. Her hands were
wrapped tight around my little girl's tiny neck. She was banging her head on
the bottom of the tub. The water was turning red, from the blood coming out of
her nose.
Ella's skin was grey and she was just floating there, sort of
limp.
I grabbed Sandra and threw her across the room. She was still
screaming at me, when I pulled Ella's body from the tub.
Adam came running into the room right about then, to see what
was going on and I yelled for him to keep his mother back. He had to sit right
on top of her. She was scratching at his face and beating him about the head.
But he stayed put and kept her away. He is a good boy, always has been.
Holding Ella in my arms, I called 911. They told me what to do
and sent out an ambulance. I did CPR on that baby, until they got there to take
over. The police came too and when Sandra saw that everyone was working to save
our daughter, she went crazy again.
She grabbed a pair of scissors from the counter by the sink and
stabbed one of the paramedics in the back, before anyone could stop her.
The police grabbed her and wrestled her to the ground. They put
her in restraints. She was so violent that they had to hog-tie her. She
actually bit one of the constables and took a chunk out of his arm. I do hope
he will be okay.
They carried her out to the backseat of one of the cruisers,
right at the same time the paramedics were putting Ella into the back of the
ambulance. Right before they shut the door, she looked at her own daughter,
with such hatred in her eyes and screamed at her, 'I will put an end to you …
one day I WILL stop you!'
Ella suddenly opened her eyes, right then. She pulled the oxygen
mask off and asked me why her mummy was crying. Then she passed out again.
Ella is a wonderful child. She has never done anything to
warrant all the nonsense Sandra has been spouting. I have tried my best to help
her, with doctors and such, but there is no hope for her that I can see.
Sandra must be kept away from Ella, and all other children for
that matter. She is dangerous. As much as I love her, I cannot let her hurt
anyone else.
The
commitment papers were attached to this statement and they were both signed by
my father and dated,
Nine
"My
mother tried to kill me, Chris."
With his arms securely encircling me, I sobbed into his chest.
Never had I felt so small and insignificant in my life.
Even
when my father was dominating my life, I had still been able to hold on to the
belief that my mother had died loving me. That she would have been there to
protect me, to help me, to show him that every girl needs a bit of freedom, if
she could have been. Now I only had Chris.
I
needed his strength and his normalcy. He grounded me. Holding me in his arms,
he was actually holding me in the reality of this world. I could feel the vast,
black void of insanity trying to drag me down, into its emptiness.
I
held so tightly to Chris' shoulders, I am sure that I must have cut off the
circulation to his arms.
As
I slowly began to regain my composure, he took my face in his hands and kissed
me. "I love you, Ella. If this is all too much for you, just say the word and
I will take over. I will try to find the answers for you."
"No,
Chris, this is my demon to fight. Somehow, I know that this is a battle that
has been going on for a lot longer than anyone wishes to admit. I have to
follow this through to the end."
"Can
I ask you something?"
I
looked directly into his eyes, letting him know that I was willing to answer
him, if I could.
"Do
you truly not remember any of this?"
"No,
not at all," I whispered. "That's weird, isn't it? I should be able
to remember something that major from my past. Shouldn't I? What is wrong with
me, Chris? Why can't I remember?"
"The
mind is a truly amazing thing, Ella. It protects us from things that could
drive us insane, by blocking those memories. It hides things away, like putting
a scary book in a locked drawer. It is still there, but you don't have to deal
with it. Sometimes things are just so overwhelming that our minds can't hide
enough of it away and the fear and pain manifest themselves in other ways."
"Like
with Adam."
"Yeah. Sort of." Chris's statement was not very
convincing.
"What
do you mean… sort of?"
"Honey,
in all my schooling and the years since I have been in practice, I have never
heard of Inflicted Autism.
"You mean it's rare?"
"No,
I mean it is not real."
"What?"
"Okay.
I know Adam is unwell, mentally, but it's like they couldn't figure out what
was wrong with him so they just--made something up to fit."
"Of
course."
"What
do you mean… 'of course'?" My reaction obviously had him puzzled.
For
some reason, I could not stop the laughter that bubbled its way up my throat.
"My
whole life has been a lie. My family is a lie. Why should Adam be any
different?"
I
continued laughing… almost hysterically.
"Oh
baby," Chris smiled. "I think we need to try to calm down here and
get back on track."
Wiping
the tears from my face and struggling to get myself under control, I sat and
looked at him. He was right; of course, we had to find the underlying cause of
this mess.
"Yeah,
you're right, Chris. Let's get to the bottom of all this crap!" With a
quick kiss on his cheek, I clamored to my feet, with a determined resolve. "Let's
get at it!"
* * * *
While
Chris made the call to Mountain View Institute, I cleared up the mess we had
made in the living room.
Chris
was able to ascertain that my mother was in fact, still a patient. She was
under the care of a Doctor Lawrence. He arranged for us to meet with him at
After
throwing a few bits and pieces into the back of his sturdy SUV, Chris got hold
of his partner. Joe agreed to take care of the practice for the next few days.
When Chris told him that he really couldn't explain at that time what it was
all about, Joe said that he understood.
Knowing
that everything would be well taken care of, we were free to head out. Just as
we were climbing into the truck, my father pulled into the driveway, blocking
our exit.
"Oh
no, what could he possibly want?" I breathed, as I watched him step
gingerly across the slippery driveway, towards me.
"What
do you want, Dad?" I stepped forward to meet him halfway.
"I
know what you're about, girl. I couldn't let you just go off like this."
Looking
at him now, I could tell that he had not slept last night. He appeared to have
been up all night crying. His watery eyes were red-rimmed and puffy; his skin
was even paler than it had been when he stormed out the front door of the
farmhouse.
"Why
did you never tell me, Dad? She tried to kill me and I never knew!" I felt
like a petulant toddler, stomping her foot in a tantrum, but I just couldn't
help it.
"How
do you tell a lass that her own mother wanted her dead? I never knew when would
be the right time. We had already told you that she was dead; we made Adam
promise not to say anything about that night, or the time before that. We were
only trying to protect you, Ella.
"I
am not a smart man, Ella. I always thought that you would just start
remembering something on your own and come to me." Tears were slowly
falling from his watery old eyes, turning to ice upon his cheeks.
"I
tried my best to protect you, Ella. From everything, all these years."
"How could I have come to you, Dad? I have always been too
afraid of you. I know now, you have always done what you thought was best for
me, you did the best you could, but now you have to let go.
"You
kept me like a prisoner out on that farm… my whole life. You never let me go to
dances or parties. You never gave me the opportunity to make lasting
friendships; I always had to take care of the farm… of you… of Nanny.
"Now,
it turns out that everything I thought I knew was a lie." Reaching out, I
placed my hand on his trembling shoulder, feeling the thinness of it through
his heavy coat. "I have so many questions, Dad. I need to go and find the
answers."
"The
answers are out there, Ella. Just be aware, you may not like what you learn."
Pulling an envelope from his pocket, the shell of the man that I had feared for
so long, looked intently into my eyes, "Take this to her, for me. Please!
I know that I have no right to ask you to do anything for me, as far as you are
concerned. But please, just take care of this one last thing for me."
I
took the crumpled envelope from his shaking fingers and he turned away. As he
was getting back into his rusty old pickup truck, he looked at me again and
then at Chris. "Thank you, Doc. You're a lot better man than me."
With
that, he got in and pulled out of the driveway.
"What
do you suppose that was all about?" I asked as Chris and I once again
started getting into his truck.
"Guilty
conscience, maybe." He settled himself behind the steering wheel. "How
about we make a point of spending some time with him, when we get back? It
seemed to me, like he needs to know some of the answers too."
* * * *
The
temperature had risen a bit through the night and it had been snowing all
morning. It had been an unusually, cold winter that held all of us in its icy
grip longer than normal.
Life
in the far-reaching shadows of the Canadian Rockies had always been something
of a challenge but the winter of 2010 was the worst in a very long time.
The
SUV's four-wheel drive made an easy task out of passing along the snow-covered
roads. The plows were busy, clearing the highways, but it would be a while
before they got to any of the smaller towns and lesser-used roads.
Old
Harold Parker usually kept our roads cleared, but his truck was nearly falling
apart. It was pulled off the road by the ministry in the fall. Since then, it
was up to the big plows from the county to get to us, when they had a chance.
Racing
towards the
I
had no idea where the Mountain View Institute was located, other than it was
somewhere in the
We
felt confident that we would be able to find the place.
When
we left the main highway, we were both very glad that we were traveling in a
vehicle with four-wheel drive. Even though the plows and sanders had made a
pass down the road, it was still a challenge.
Snowdrifts
camouflaged the road. Chris had to judge where we should be driving by the
hydro poles and signposts on either side. Occasionally sliding slightly, we
plowed ahead. Some of the drifts that we went through were nearly as high as
the truck and I feared that the snow would choke the engine.
Winter driving in the prairies that skirt the mountains was not
like driving anywhere else in the world. The land is so flat on one side that
there is nothing to stop the wind until it hits the mountains. It blows the
snow, causing drifts and whiteouts, without a moment's notice. Pulling into a
town, any town, is a great relief
Ten
The sun
was setting as we pulled into the town we had been looking for. It was the last
one marked on the map, before our turnoff into the foothills. That was where we
intended to spend the night.
We rented a room at the only motel in town--we were the only guests.
Hoping
that the snow would let up over night, we planned to head into the hills and
find the institute in the morning. We were not exactly sure just how long it
would take us to get there, so we wanted to leave ourselves plenty of time.
After
grabbing a bite to eat at a local restaurant, we settled down in the nice warm
room with our coffee from a nearby coffee shop. Chris went through my mother's
files again. He said that he was trying to find some answers, hidden amongst
all the medical jargon. He seemed almost desperate to me. I needed to find a
way to ease his mind, somehow.
"Chris,
could you please just put those away for a while? I really need you to just
hold me right now."
Turning
in his chair to look at me, where I was lounging in the middle of the big bed,
he smiled.
"Why
is it, that my t-shirt looks so much better the way you fill it out?" he
asked, with a sly grin.
"Because,
silly, if it looked the same on me as it did on you, then I wouldn't be able to
entice you to come over here and hold me."
Stripping
off his clothes, Chris joined me on the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers.
"I
am so glad that you are here with me. I don't think I could do this without
your support."
Pushing
the t-shirt up, he looked into my eyes, with a mischievous glint in his own. "I
am actually enjoying all this."
"You
are?"
"Sure,"
he smiled, pulling the shirt over my head, "All this mystery and intrigue…
plus, the most beautiful woman I have ever known, welcoming me into her bed.
What more could a man ask for?"
"Oh
I don't know, how about a woman who doesn't dissolve into tears at the drop of
a hat?"
"Sweetheart,
that just works to make you the 'damsel-in-distress' even more."
"So,
I guess that makes you my knight-in-shining-armor. Is that what you are trying
to tell me?"
"Well,
the only armor I have is my love for you. And, I have never slain a dragon
before, but I am willing to take this monster on for you."
"I
know, and I love you for that… more than words can ever express."
Tracing
my fingernails down his chest as he straddled my hips, I watched as goose bumps
rose in their wake. My stomach flipped as I lowered my fingers to his obvious
hardness. All I could concentrate on was how much I loved him and how badly I
wanted to feel him deep inside of me. No foreplay needed or wanted, this time.
"Make
love to me, Chris." I purred, as he lowered his lips to my excruciatingly
erect nipple. "No, strike that – fuck me, Chris. Take me with a wild
abandon. Bury yourself deep inside me, where only you can reach. Make me yours."
His
answer came in way of his stripped boxers being flung to the floor as he lay
back and pulled me over on top of him.
His full, rigid cock slid
easily, into my hot, waiting pussy. As soon as my muscles felt the pressure of him,
they began their undulating race to orgasm. It was exactly what I wanted and
needed right then. A good hard fuck, with none of the regular sweet pillow
talk. I pressed my palms onto his chest to balance myself as I slid up and down
his cock. My mind was so fixed on an absolute need for release that I didn't
really care at that moment, if he was enjoying the ride or not--he was an
instrument for me to use to achieve my goal.
I rode him as I'd only done
a few times in the past, with a purely selfish need that screamed out to be
fulfilled. Bouncing on his shaft, my pussy clenched and vibrated along his
length, dragging him with me to the place we both dearly wanted to be.
Chris's fingers dug in to
the soft flesh of my sides, forcing me down, holding me there with his cock
fully embedded in me as a deep rolling shudder ran through him. With him
swelling and pressing against my cervix with the explosions, my own body
released its grip on reality. Wave after wave of climactic spasm shook my
spine.
Collapsing
onto his chest, I slowly raised my hips and allowed his cock to fall from the
tight, confining clasp of my pussy.
"Where
the hell did that come from?" His murmured question sent a fleeting stab
of fear through me.
Slipping
off to lay beside him, I traced circles around his chest and stomach. "Sorry
Chris, that was rather selfish of me. I really don't know where it came from."
"Don't
ever be sorry for something like that. Just know, that if you can be selfish--so
can I."
In a
movement quicker than I would have thought him capable, he was kneeling between
my knees. "I hope you are ready to fly among the stars again."
Before I
had a chance to even think of an answer, he drove his tongue deep into my wet
pussy. I knew he was tasting the mixture of our orgasms and from the deep
throaty moans, he was clearly enjoying the nectar.
For the
next couple of hours, my mind raced along on waves of pure physical bliss. I
met his deep thrusting with my own. I dug my nails into the headboard as his
tongue took the nerve-endings bundled in my throbbing clitoris to amazing new
heights. I screamed into the muffling thickness of the pillow, as his length
drove deeply into me, yet again.
Reality
was left behind, in the mist of the unseen and un-cared for. I knew only the
fireworks of absolute joy. I knew the feel, taste and smell of Chris. Nothing
else existed. Nothing else mattered.
I slept
that night, better than I ever remember sleeping in my life. The safety of our
love cocooned me. No matter what happened from that point on, I knew that I was
safe.
Chris
had assured me of that.
Moreover--I
believed him--with every ounce of my being.
Eleven
Dressed
in my formfitting jeans and cream-colored Aaron-knit sweater, I thought I was
ready for whatever the mountains held. No matter how shocking or painful those
secrets may be.
With
one look, it was clear that I was wrong!
There it stood. Looming ahead of us, nestled in a valley
between two of the higher foothills that lead into the actual mountains.
Mortar
and stone… surrounded with pines and peaks. It had towers and turrets at each
of the corners. There looked to be a 'widow's walk' along the length of the
roof. The sheer mass of the structure was phenomenal and imposing.
As
I stepped from the truck, I felt as though the building itself was bearing down
on me. My legs turned to jelly, my stomach clenched, I could feel my bowels
liquefying. I could not get enough air into my lungs to keep my head from
spinning.
"Well…"
I stammered, "If I wasn't terrified before, I would be now, anyway. This
place looks more like a medieval castle, than a place of healing. Do you
suppose there is a torture chamber lurking somewhere in the bowels of this
monstrosity?"
Chris
chuckled quietly as he came around the front of the truck to take my mittened
hand in his own. "It is rather imposing, isn't it? I nearly expect a
volley of fiery arrows to come pelting down on us at any moment."
He
started to move towards the huge, ornately carved doors sheltered beneath the
columned, stone archway. He stopped so abruptly when he realized that I had not
moved, he actually slid on the wet snow.
"Hey babe. You okay?"
With
tears, yet again, filling my eyes, blurring my vision, I stared at the four
rows of huge, barred windows that lined the façade.
"Thirty
years, Chris. Three decades of lies and deceit have been hidden behind those
bricks."
Lowering
my gaze to his, the tears spilled from my eyes. "Why, Chris? Why?"
"I
don't know why, babe. But, maybe we can find some answers, on the other side of
those bricks. Come on, let's go find out."
"I
can't make my feet move," I whispered. "It's like the ice and snow
have crept up to my ankles and I'm frozen to this spot."
Wrapping
his arm around me, Chris gently guided me across the snow-packed drive. ""Come
on, I'll be at your side the whole time. Remember, just put one foot in front
of the other."
Taking
a deep breath, I forced myself to move.
* * * *
The
huge, heavy oak doors swung open much easier than either of us had expected.
"They
must be counter-levered or something," Chris stated simply, as we crossed
the foyer together. His analytical mind amazed me at times.
The
receptionist was seated behind a massive desk that seemed to be a part of the
building. It was grey, as were the walls, ceiling, and floor. It covered the
end of the expansive room in a gentle sweeping arch. I had never seen a desk
quite like it; it must have been custom-made to match the dreariness of the
surroundings.
The receptionist seemed to blend right in with the building as
well. She was grey, and very severe. Salt and pepper hair, slicked back into a
bun so tight it pulled her thinly plucked brows up, unnaturally.
The
collar of her starched white shirt was buttoned all the way to the top with an
onyx brooch covering the topmost button. The grey cardigan over it and her
black calf-length, straight skirt, looked as old as the hills. Even her skin
had a grey pallor, and her tightly pursed lips were white.
I
was so busy with my thoughts of how she seemed chiseled out of the same stone
as the walls that I actually jumped when she spoke.
"Can
I help you?" Her voice grated across my ears, setting my already frayed
nerves on edge.
Chris
showed her his credentials and told her that we had an appointment to meet with
Doctor Lawrence. Once we had both signed in and deposited our jackets in the
closet, we went through a metal door off to the side of the great hall.
The
nurse who escorted us to Doctor Lawrence's office was almost as stern looking
as the living statue at the desk. I found myself wondering if tightly
wrapped buns and pursed lips were a mandatory part of the uniform here.
I
was in no way prepared for the doctor.
Twelve
What an
odd little man he was!
Standing
no more than five feet and perhaps six inches, he was very nearly round. His
shock of white hair stood out from the top of his head at odd angles, making
him look as though more than a few ghosts had scared him in his time. His puffy
cheeks made his eyes look like they were constantly squinting. An amazingly
bulbous nose took up most of his face.
All
he needed was a red suit and I just may have started believing in Santa Claus,
again.
Did
this happy looking little man even really belong out there? He certainly did
not fit in with the overall feel of the drab surroundings. Moreover, he didn't
look like any doctor I had ever seen before.
When
we entered his office, he sat at his desk, looking through some papers. As soon
as he realized that we were there, he quite literally jumped to his feet and
hurried across the spacious room to welcome us.
With
his hand thrust out toward Chris, a bright smile filled his face, causing his
eyes to all but disappear.
"Welcome!
Welcome to
Turning
to me, I felt his eyes drilling into me for a few moments before he spoke, "Miss
Marshall, I am so pleased that you have finally found your way out here."
I
could not for the life of me imagine what he could mean by finally. I
had only just found out that my mother was alive, how could I possibly have
come out here any sooner?
As
we all moved, to sit down on the comfortable sofas arranged in front of the
blazing fire, Dr. Lawrence offered us refreshments. A carafe of tea and a
steaming percolator filled with coffee sat on the sideboard, accompanied by a
tin of cookies.
Chris
and I both declined the kind offer; after all, it was by no means a social
call. Also, we had finished the coffee and sandwiches that we brought with us
not too long before.
Smiling
through his all too obvious disappointment at our refusal, the doctor settled
himself into a well-used leather chair across from us, and asked what it was
that we wanted from him.
"Answers,"
I blurted out.
"Of
course," he said, still wearing that same smile. "What can I tell
you?"
Tears
stung my eyes, as I watched this strange man smiling at me. The smile did not
reach his eyes. It stayed on his lips in some sort of false effort to convey
congeniality. All it really did though was make my skin crawl.
"Has
she really been hiding here for thirty years?" I was finally able to ask.
I was holding Chris' hand as tightly as I could. He was my lifeline. I was
afraid to let go of him, through those first few moments at the institute, from
fear that I could be sucked in.
Handing
me a tissue from the box sitting on the table beside his chair, Doctor Lawrence
spoke gently. "Sandra has been here for thirty years, yes. But I am not
too sure that I would call it hiding." He stopped speaking and looked
deeply into my eyes, "Surely, you have known of her whereabouts, my dear."
Chris,
thankfully, spoke up, as my tears were choking me, "No, Doctor, Ella was
not privy to the facts until very recently." He went on to explain to the
head of the institute, how I had come to learn of my mother's life.
As
their conversation became very in-depth and analytical, I got up to gaze out
one of the windows. The view was magnificent. The place had truly been named
properly. It had a beautiful view of the majestic mountains that surrounded the
place.
I
felt a warm, gentle touch on my shoulder. As I turned to see who it was--expecting
Chris--smiling, a beautiful woman, moved to stand beside me at the window. The
sunlight streaming through the pristine glass, shone against her hair and skin.
It seemed to almost make her glow.
Hanging
below her shoulders, her soft, straight hair looked as though it had silver and
gold threads running through it. The white material of her floor length gown
was almost painful to look at with the sun gleaming off it. I had to turn back
to the window. Somehow, the sun on the snow seemed to be easier on my eyes.
"A
wonderful sight. Is it not?" I heard her soft whispery voice in my ear. "Just
the way it was meant to be; wild, natural, undisturbed."
I
felt her move beside me and exhale deeply. Her steamy breath fogged the clean
pane in front of her. As I watched, she used the tip of her finger to draw in
the fog she had created. Within a circle, she marked a five-point star over a
yin-yang symbol with a 'Z' and 'E' on either side.
As
I watched in amazement, I felt rather than heard her words.
"Take
care, my child. Protect it; hold it close, always. There are some who will try
to take it… destroy it. They know of you and fear you, just as she feared you,
years ago. You must be strong to be rejoined, to find your way. You must take
care. Know that you are watched. They always see. They always know!"
In
complete puzzlement I whispered, "What are you saying? Who is watching me?
Who fears me? Why should anyone be afraid of me?"
I
turned to look at her, when she failed to answer. All I found beside me was
empty space.
I
heard a door close, which I had not noticed before, tucked as it was into an
alcove. I assumed that she must have been one of the doctor's assistants. I
just couldn't figure out how she had known about the symbols, or why she said
what she had.
Thirteen
"Ella?"
It
was Dr. Lawrence, "Ella, could I see the amulet?"
I
nearly jumped out of my skin. I was so lost with the woman and my own thoughts,
that Dr. Lawrence, his office and Chris, had all completely left my mind. I
spun around to face him and felt the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up
on end.
"May
I see the amulet, Miss Marshall?" he repeated, rather sternly.
He
did not appear quite so comical anymore. There was a new harshness behind his
eyes. He was a man who was quite obviously used to getting what he asked for…
the first time he asked.
Now,
he did indeed look like he belonged there amongst the cold harshness of the
institute. There was a coldness coming from him that somehow made me determined
to not let him get the upper hand.
"Who
was that woman? Was she your assistant, Dr. Lawrence?"
"What?"
The
look on his face was priceless.
Instead
of jumping to obey his request, I had actually had the nerve to ask him
a question. Oh the joy. The bliss. The feeling of absolute freedom! I had
actually not cowed down to someone in authority.
It
was downright exhilarating--if only for a moment.
He
was still standing in front of me with his hand held out, with the obvious
expectation that my necklace should be placed into it-- immediately. Slowly
lowering it, he asked, "What woman, Miss Marshall?"
"The
one that was here just now, of course. Which other woman would I be talking
about? And why are you both looking at me like that?"
The
doctor looked around the room, raising both of his arms to indicate the entire
space, "There is no one here except us."
"Well,
yes, I know that, I am not an idiot Dr. Lawrence. She left, just before you
spoke to me. I am pretty sure that she went through that door in the alcove. I
didn't actually see her go through it, but I did hear it close."
As
I looked from Dr. Lawrence to Chris, I felt shock by the matching expressions
on their faces.
"Oh,
come on. Surely, you saw her, Chris! The doctor has an excuse, his back was to
me, but you were sitting right there, facing this direction. Even you couldn't
have been that engrossed in the conversation that you didn't see someone
dressed all in white, walk right past you."
The
two of them looked like they had been struck with one of those 'freeze-ray'
guns from some science fiction story. They just stood there, staring at me as
though I had turned purple or something.
"What
on earth are you staring at me like that for?" My voice cracked so much it
didn't even sound, as if it had come from my own throat. I was beginning to
feel very uncomfortable and I wished that one of them would say something.
Even
hearing that I had totally lost my mind had to be better than this silent
staring.
Finally,
Dr. Lawrence came to his senses. Blinking a few times, clearing his throat,
running his hands through his hair and adjusting his tie, he asked, "What
did this woman look like, Ella?"
"Well,
as I have already said, she was dressed all in white. She had golden blonde
hair, down past her shoulders and…"
I
stopped in mid-sentence. I could not for the life of me give them any better
description than that. I had no idea what she had looked like, other than the
fact that she was beautiful. I didn't even know what color her eyes were.
"And,
I don't know," I finished lamely.
"No,
I don't suppose you do." Dr. Lawrence sighed. "The door which you
indicated, there in the alcove, has not been used for years. It was sealed up,
when the room on the other side was turned into a file room.
"There
is a very heavy filing cabinet on the other side of that door, which would be
impossible to move. I think perhaps all the stress over the past few days has
been too much for you to handle."
"Are
you telling me that I imagined it?" There was a definite tremor in my
voice.
"Ella."
Chris was at my elbow, with real concern showing in his eyes. "Sweetheart,
I didn't see anyone. I am sure there was no woman here. There wasn't even time
enough for anyone to come into the room and then leave again. You were only
standing at the window for a minute or two, when Dr. Lawrence asked you if he
could look at your necklace. You must have imagined it."
"But,
she seemed so real, Chris," I begged him with my eyes to believe me.
"And
I am sure that I was standing at the window for a lot longer than a couple of
minutes. She used her breath to cause the fog on the window and drew my pendant
in that fog."
Turning
to point at the fog drawing, I was startled to see a grimy, undisturbed,
barred window that you couldn't even see through.
"Ella,"
Doctor Lawrence's friendly, gentle voice was back. "The human mind is an
amazingly strong machine, but very fragile at the same time. In times of great
stress, it protects us in numerous ways.
"But…
to be quite honest, I do not think that this is the case, this time. This is
something altogether different. You see, Ella, you are not the only person to
say that you have seen this woman."
"So,
you did see her."
"No.
I am afraid that I have never had the pleasure of meeting 'The Lady in White',
as she is known. Many of my staff, as well as most of the patients here have
seen her, though. You see, this house has quite a history, and the woman that
you saw lived within these walls many, many years ago.
"After
she died, the house stood empty for a long time. She and her lover were
murdered in the west tower. Her husband was a cruel man, he kept her very much
like a prisoner, but when he was away tending to his lands, she found a way to
have a relationship with another man.
"He had been hired as a gardener. They soon found out that
they not only shared a love for flowers, but they also shared a profound
loneliness as well. The young gardener's family had been tragically lost in a
fire and the Lady had been cut off from her family, by her husband's cruelty.
"They
both wanted to find a way to be together. They were in the tower, going over
their secret plans of how the Lady would be able to escape, when her husband
returned earlier than expected. The mistress's lady-in-waiting tried to run and
warn the lovers of his arrival, but he was too fast and she paid for her
loyalty with her head.
"When
the Lord of the manor came upon the lovers, he ended both of their lives, quite
viciously, then hurled himself from the topmost window. After that, none of the
family wanted anything to do with the estate and it simply sat empty, for
years.
"About
fifty years ago, it was purchased through a public auction and renovated to be
this institute. 'The Lady in White' has been seen many times walking the halls.
She has spoken to a lot of the residents here, but you are the first visitor to
ever encounter her."
"You're
telling me that I saw a ghost?" my breath was coming in short, painful
gasps at the very idea.
"Well,
we actually call her a 'watcher' as she seems to watch over everyone here.
However, you have no need to worry, you are in no danger. We have never had
anything happen that could in the least be considered the workings of a
poltergeist or angry spirit."
"Now,
if I may. I should very much like to have a look at your amulet."
Fourteen
We had
all taken our seats again, throughout the telling of the Lady's story. I leaned
forward in my seat on the couch, holding the necklace out for the doctor to
see. The chain was still securely around my neck, which was exactly where I
intended it to stay.
Dr,
We
all jumped at the sound and a nervous giggle escaped my throat. Upon the doctor's
beckoning, the same nurse who had escorted us to the office came in.
"I'm sorry Dr. L,
but Marsha is getting very anxious. She has been dressed and waiting for you
all morning. She says that she made this appointment with you a week ago."
"And
right she is. Tell, Her Ladyship, that I will be up to see her latest creation
shortly." Dr. Lawrence chuckled, the first real sound of happiness or
relaxation that I'd heard from him, as the nurse closed the door.
As
she left, he turned back to Chris and
I
held it out once again for him to see. His hand did not move in my direction
that time. He just sat there, leaning forward… staring at my pendant… or amulet
or whatever you want to call it.
His
face grew deathly pale as his eyes widened, the same way my father's had. Even
his lips lost all color. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead; he seemed to
be having difficulty breathing.
"Amazing.
Absolutely amazing." He was stammering. "Oh my God! How could it be?
I thought she… It was just a… How could she do this?"
Finally
looking at me, the fog seemed to clear from his eyes. "Please forgive me,
Miss Marshall. I must seem like a babbling idiot to you."
Jumping to his feet, he very nearly knocked the table in front
of the sofa over. "Come with me. There is something that I really do think
you must see."
* * * *
Down the
hall, up three flights of ornate stone steps and along another wide hall, we
obediently followed the back of the doctor's bobbing head. All along the hall,
he greeted and was greeted, by the residents of
It
was clear that they were comfortable. Some of them wore institutional-style
pajamas. The majority were dressed just like Chris and I in jeans and sweaters,
while others wore outrageous costumes.
The
most notable by far, was the woman standing ramrod straight at the end of the
hall. I knew right away that she just had to be, Her Ladyship. Her raven hair
hung so straight that not only did it look ironed, but starched as well. Her
face had been thickly powdered to a ghostly white sheen. Her body was covered
from chin to floor in black taffeta, black evening gloves covered her hands.
As her right arm slowly rose to point, perfectly rigid, from
her shoulder directly at the doctor's face, I had the chilling thought that she
could very easily pass for a female version of the Grim Reaper.
Her
raspy voice sent chills down my spine, "We have waited long, for thy
coming, sir. Thou hast caused great anxiety upon our body. Thy time is under no
circumstance whatsoever, as important as ours. What excuse dost thee choose for
thy pardon, this day, Mr. Sawbones?"
Right
there in the middle of that sterile, white hall, Dr. Lawrence took the stiffly
extended hand, lowered his lips to the black cloth, and then folded himself at
the waist in a deep, formal bow.
"If
her Ladyship couldst find forgiveness for such an un-courteous man as myself,
the gratitude that I should feel would be immeasurable."
Lowering her hand, closing her powdered eyes and turning her
back to us, the Lady rasped, "As thee is aware of thy wrongness, we shall
pardon thee… yet again. Now, on to the unveiling which is at hand."
Forcing
myself to not burst out laughing, as the doctor winked at us over his shoulder,
I looked at Chris. It was obvious that he was struggling to stifle a laugh as
well.
We
all followed the dark figure through the double doors and into an amazingly
large art gallery. Sculptures of every size and shape, framed sketches and
paintings as well as numerous pieces of fine pottery, filled the room.
"What
is all this? Where did it all come from?" I felt nearly overwhelmed by all
of the amazing treasures in that room.
"This is all work done by our residents. Have a look
around; I will just be a minute or two, while Lady Raven shows me her latest
painting. There is something very important that I want to show you."
True
to his word, the doctor found us examining the exhibit within five minutes.
"Some
pretty amazing things here aren't there?" he remarked as he came to stand
beside us in front of a beautiful rendering of the surrounding mountains.
"Some
of these would be worth a small fortune. You should try putting them on the
market," Chris mused.
"Oh,
we have. We have had shows and quite a few of the pieces have sold. The
institute takes a small percentage and the rest of the money goes into the
artist's account. That way, when they are ready to re-enter the outside world,
they have a financial cushion, as well as an outlet through their art."
"That's
wonderful," I couldn't tear my eyes from the magnificent painting before
me. "But, what does all of this have to do with my mother?"
"All
of this is because of Sandra. She was the first artist to use the arts
and crafts supplies for more than just crafts. She got a lot of the other
residents motivated, and this, this is the result."
Looking
around the gallery, trying to spy something could be my mother's, I queried, "Which
ones are hers?"
"None
of these, Sandra has her own room. She has always insisted on that; keeping her
work separated from the others. It is just one of those artistic quirks. That room
is what I wanted to show you."
As
he turned, he motioned for us to follow him.
Fifteen
After
weaving our way through the labyrinth of exhibits, we entered a smaller art
gallery through a door in the far wall. As we walked in, the sheer volume of
paintings that filled the space overwhelmed me. Every inch of wall was covered
with framed paintings overlapping each other. More hung suspended from the
ceiling on piano wire, while even more stood in stacks against the walls and
piled on the floor in carefully balanced towers.
They
were all breathtakingly beautiful. It was hard to believe that the same person
who had tried to kill her child could have painted something so full of
passion.
"Sandra
is a very passionate woman." Dr. Lawrence told me quietly, as if he had
been reading my thoughts.
"She
is usually very serene and uncomplicated. The reason that she has remained in
residence here at
"You
see, once a year, for the last ten years, we have had a meeting to decide
whether or not she is ready to be released. As soon as she hears the subject of
returning to her home, Sandra's whole persona changes.
"The
serene lovely artist that we have all come to know and love is eclipsed by a
violent raging maniac. She reverts to the way she was when she first arrived
here, she rants on about the two forces that will clash. She screams every year
that the stars ask too much from her.
"She
demands to have the doors thrown open for her, to allow her to re-enter the world
and hunt down and destroy the cause of all the havoc in the world… you, Ella!
It seems that she still wants to see you dead--at least a part of her does."
I
stood there, staring at him in disbelief. The doctor had just told me that
every time she thought that there was a chance to get to me, my own mother went
crazy with the need to kill me. After all those years, she still wanted my
blood on her hands and there I was, walking right into her grasp.
"Oh
my God, Chris. What am I doing here?"
Taking me into his embrace, he reassured me softly. "You
are here to get answers. You are safe. This is the best place for you to talk
to her. They know how to handle her here. I am sure the good doctor here, will
ensure your safety, as well as your mother's."
The
good doctor was standing in front of a canvas, staring at it with such
intensity; it was almost as though he were trying to see through it. I am sure
that he had not heard a single word Chris and I had said. In fact, he probably
forgot we were even there. When I asked him, just how he thought the paintings
had something to do with my mother's bloodlust, he turned to me as if he were
in a dream.
"Just
look at one of them, and tell me what you see."
Stepping
up close to the nearest canvas, I did as he asked, thinking he was nearly as
imbalanced as the residents under his care.
"It
looks to be set in Victorian Times, judging by the gowns on the ladies
strolling along by the placid lake, on the arms of the gentlemen. There are
nannies, pushing old style prams. A young couple is having a picnic in the
shade of an oak tree. All in all, it is a very nice picture."
"Yes, that is a good start, but look closer."
"Okay,
I am not an art critic, but I will try. She has done a wonderful job of
catching the way the sunlight filters through the leaves of the trees. The
scene is reflected in the mirror-like surface of the lake. Some of the people
are slightly out of scale; she should work on her proportions a bit, and the
tones. They seem to be too tall and slender and they are much too pale.
"There
is something wrong with the sky as well. There is obviously, bright sun shining
off the leaves and people, there are deep shadows and shade under the trees.
The sky reflected in the lake is bright blue, with a few scattered clouds
floating along, but the actual sky, is somewhat grey as if there is a storm
coming. Is that good enough, Doctor?"
"No
Ella, you are not looking closely enough. Examine that tree in the foreground.
Look at the way she did the trunk… the way the bark flows. Stop looking with
your eyes and see it with your mind, your heart."
This
was getting ridiculous and I was growing very impatient with the whole thing. I
figured that I would indulge him for another minute or two and then insist that
he take me to see my mother. It was time for answers… not guessing games!
"Okay,
fine, the bark is very well done. It is surprisingly realistic, except here,
where this largest branch breaks from the trunk. The way the bark comes around
in a circle, it almost looks like…"
I
could not believe what I was seeing. The lines in the bark, right there formed
a rough circle, surrounding… could it be… it was… it was my amulet. She had
painted the amulet into the tree.
"Doctor.
Why would she… how?"
"Look
here, Ella, at the center of the Ferris wheel spokes. In this painting of a
carnival. And here, in the hair of this mourning woman. Again here, in the
center of this sunflower."
I
could see them now, everywhere I looked, in every single painting. They all had
my amulet in them, somewhere.
The
doctor was beside himself with excitement. "I never knew what it was
before. I thought it was just some strange sort of signature or something. I
never would have thought that it was an actual amulet.
"Years
ago Sandra told me a story of a baby being born with a pendant clutched in its
hand, but I never truly believed her--until now. She was sedated when she gave
birth, the nurses must have told her about it, maybe they even showed it to
her, before her mother took it away to hide it.
"Could
the rest of the stories be true then? Is that even remotely possible? But, Ella
is here and she does have the amulet. Could it be?"
He
was obviously talking more to himself than us.
"Doctor,"
Chris broke into his monologue. "Perhaps we could see Mrs. Marshall now."
Sixteen
He led
us to a cozy sitting room, with an over-stuffed couch and two matching chairs,
arranged in front of a cemented-in fireplace. Clearly, considered some sort of
hazard.
Seated
on the chair closest to the fireplace, was an older version of me. Her hair was
the same color as mine, pulled back into a ponytail. Her nose had the same
slight tilt up at the tip. Her lips had a natural upwards bow, as if she were
perpetually smiling softly at some memory. Even her hands resembled my own, in
that the fingers were long and slender, with deep nail beds.
The
one major difference was her eyes. While mine were brown, hers were a soft
hazel color, but it was more than just the color difference. There was a lack
of life in her eyes, no life, no spark. They almost looked like the eyes you
would see on a mannequin, or a child's doll.
Her
skin was smooth, almost unnaturally so. Most women, by her age, have numerous
lines in their faces; you can tell what their lives were like by reading those
lines, but not Sandra. Apart from a few fine laugh lines at the corners of her
eyes, there was no story to tell there, no history, no life. It was all well
hidden beneath her mask of serenity.
As
I sat perched on the edge of the sofa, directly across from her, I could not
stop staring. I had thought for my whole life that this woman was dead and now
there I was, sitting in the same room with her. It was an eerie feeling.
Dr.
Lawrence settled into the chair beside her and reached out to gently touch her
arm. She started, as though she was surprised that she was no longer alone in
the room.
"Hello
Sandra," he spoke softly, "someone is here to see you."
The
look of confusion only lasted a moment, before she focused her eyes on me. She
took a deep breath and curled her hands into balls in her lap.
"So,
you've finally come," she stated, flatly.
"Yes,"
I squeaked, over the lump in my throat. "I have come to see you."
"Why?"
"I
need some answers."
"I
thought you might." Her smile, never reached her eyes. "I knew you
would be coming soon. Your grandmother called me a while ago and told me that
she was going to tell you what happened.
"So,
now you know all of it, all of the dirty little secrets and family shame. What
more do you want?"
Her
bland attitude shocked me.
"I
don't know everything. In fact, I do not know very much at all. I was told that
you were dead. Dad only broke down and told me the truth when I confronted him
with what Nanny told me, before she died"
Reaching into my purse, which lay at my feet,
I pulled out the envelope. "He asked me to give this to you."
She
took the still-sealed envelope, with shaking fingers and tore it open.
Doctor
Lawrence tensed in his seat. "Miss Marshall, you didn't tell me that you
brought a letter for Sandra!"
"Well, I didn't realize that I had to. It's just a note
from her husband. What harm can there be in that?"
"But,
did you read it? Do you know for a fact that there is nothing damaging in it,"
he pushed out between clenched teeth. "This is all very unusual, we do not
allow our residents to be upset by outside things."
Suddenly
the woman in front of me, transformed. She relaxed, leaning back in her chair
and pulled her feet up into a lotus position.
"Quit
your belly-aching, Jeremiah," she chuckled, this time all the way up to
her eyes, "Go ahead and go over it with your fine toothed comb, there is
nothing in there about world affairs or anything else you deem, damaging. It's
just a nice note from my Albert."
Flipping
the note to the tense doctor, she focused once again on me, "So, you
really don't know everything. They stopped her. I thought they might. Well, if
they wouldn't let her tell you all of it, what makes you think they will let
me?"
"Who
stopped her?" Shock now mixed with the nervousness gnawing at my confidence.
"No one stopped her, she died. She was old and it was at the end of her
time, so she died. She just waited too late to try and tell me, that's all."
"Oh, don't be so foolish. She knew what she was doing;
they would have stopped her, whenever she tried to tell you. She knew that she
had to wait until she had finished living or it would have been a life cut
short. That's just the way they are. But… it is your life, you do have the
right to know; they can take me out if they want to, I don't know how much
longer I can go on like this anyway.
"You
used to talk to them all the time. You told me that they lived behind the
toilet, or in the attic, the woods or inside a favorite doll. You saw them
everywhere, all the time. Surely you remember this, it was an everyday thing."
"Are
you telling me that you were afraid of my imaginary friends?"
"NO!
They were not your imaginary friends; that is what I am trying to tell
you. I used to hear them all the time too, when I was pregnant with you, they
would whisper in my ears. They chose your names and got very angry when I
changed them.
"When
you were just an infant, they would tell me what to do with you, when to feed
you, change your diaper, burp you. They never left me alone! They were always
whispering in my ear, calling you 'The Special One', using that other name…
going on about your rights… your purpose.
"You
were never my baby!
"I
wasn't allowed to have a moment alone with you and it got worse and worse. We
left England to come to Canada, when you were just little. I thought that if I
could get you away from there, we would be left alone, but I was wrong… they
followed us."
"Are
you telling that they were ghosts?" my voice wouldn't come out above a
whisper, through my choked throat. "And that Ella is not my real name?"
"Your
name is Eluna, Ella is just the short form, and no, I am not telling you a
ghost story. They were more than ghosts. They were… the ancient ones, here long
before humankind, before dinosaurs, before everything. But you have the amulet
now; you should already know all of this. The amulet is the key. The amulet is
the answer."
"None
of this makes any sense. What does the amulet have to do with all of this? How
can it answer my questions? It is an inanimate object, a piece of jewelry, an
antique perhaps, but it can't tell what I need to know."
I
fought to keep my voice as calm as I could.
I
did not want to upset her, I wanted to keep her talking, but she was not making
any sense.
"Why
did you try to kill me, Mother? I was just a little girl, what could I possibly
have done to make you so very angry?"
"You know very well why. I cannot believe you have come
here, pretending to not remember any of it. All the time talking to them,
listening to them, doing what they told you to do.
"Never
listening to me; never allowing me to protect you.
"Putting
everyone in danger; starting fires on the water; dancing naked on the moonlit
roof; biting people, because you said you needed to feel their worth. Making
your brother stay little, so you could have a playmate, because you frightened
any other child that we brought for you to play with.
"They
would tell you what to do and I was powerless. You were their toy, their
puppet. I knew what they were up to. I knew that they wanted it all. I tried to
stop them, but to stop them… I had to stop you.
"They
wouldn't let me!
"They were always there; surrounding you with their
masses, protecting you, empowering you.
"There
was nothing I could do, don't you see?
"Even
when I held you under the water, they breathed for you, filling you with more
of their thoughts and power.
"Albert
never saw. Oh no, of course not. He thought you were as perfect as they did. He
could not see how you truly were. To him you were an angel and no matter how
much I told him about them, he would just cuddle you and whisper in your ear
how wonderful you were.
"But
he must have finally seen something--he never let you off that farm, did he?
"He
followed my wishes and kept you from the world, he helped to keep everyone
safe, didn't he?
"Now
it's too late! They failed, you are beyond their touch; you have forgotten all
of it; you are too old now, it's too late.
"I
told, The Lady in White, all about it and she knows what is going on. She told
me not to worry, that everything would work out for the best. I trust her and I
don't think she will let them come here and hurt me."
This
was ridiculous. She quite clearly had lost her mind, and it was a huge waste of
time coming here. She was ranting, her voice was beyond agitated, it was
becoming nearly hysterical.
I
had to try one more time, even though I could tell by the look on the doctor's
face that he wanted me to be done.
"Mum…
who is Amy?"
Jumping
from her seat with a speed that astounded all of us she backhanded me across
the face, with so much force I thought my neck had snapped. Screaming, she ran
to the mantle over the fireplace, gouging great chunks out with her bare
bloodied fingers.
She
screamed a deep guttural, animalistic sound as the solid wood fell in chips at
her feet.
She
screamed… as the doctor and Chris rushed to check my face and neck.
She
screamed… as the nurses and orderlies raced into the room.
She
screamed… as they plunged their hypodermic needles into her soft flesh.
She
screamed… as they lowered her onto the stretcher, slammed into the room by one
of them.
She
softly whimpered… as her eyes closed on a world that she could not handle.
The
Lady in White, looked at me, with tears shining in her eyes, across the limp
body of my mother, and whispered, "This was not your fault. She was not
strong enough. I will stay with her, but you need to look elsewhere for your
answers, my child. They are out there, just follow the path that has been set
out for you."
Seventeen
Sitting
back in the passenger seat of Chris' SUV, with a mitten full of snow pressed to
my swollen cheek, my mind was reeling. How was I supposed to understand, or
accept everything that had just taken place? It all felt like a dream, a very
bad dream.
The
memory of the screams still echoed in my head. Even after my mother's eyes
closed and she was quiet, screams reverberated through the halls. It seemed as
if every resident had taken up her cause and were adding their voices to her
own, as it was stilled.
Nurses
and orderlies were running around, trying their best to settle all of them
down, without much success. Dr. Lawrence had grabbed my arm and pulled me
along, yelling for Chris to follow. He'd rushed us through a labyrinth of back
passages, which I had assumed would lead us back to his office.
When
we burst into the reception area, instead, a nurse was waiting with our coats,
which she shoved at us as the doctor was telling us that we had to leave. It
had all happened so fast, I barely had a chance to catch my breath, let alone
say anything.
With
the doctor's hand against my back as he moved me out the door, I turned, "Please,
tell my mother that I forgive her. And, that I love her."
A
look of great relief mixed with sadness, came over his face as he spoke, "The
time for that may have passed, I am afraid. You have a long path to tread,
which should have been started long ago, hasten your feet and reach the end,
before the time. You have the key, find your way."
I
heard the bolt slide into place as he shut the door in front of me. Somehow,
the sound of that bolt was much more final than anything I had experienced
before. Not only, was my mother and everything that she could tell me about my
past locked away in the realm of insanity--now I was physically locked away
from those answers.
Yes,
that bolt was very final!
Snapping
myself out of my mental fog, I realized that Chris had said something. "What
was that?"
"I
just asked if you were okay."
"Physically,
I think I will survive, but as far as emotionally… I have no idea.
"What
was all that back there, Chris? I mean, I know that my mother is insane and I
feel so bad for her, but why were we practically thrown out of the institute
when she snapped?"
"Well,
maybe he was worried for your safety, with all of them becoming agitated like
that. Or maybe he thought we were going to incite a riot." Chris chuckled
to himself, as the last part of that thought settled around us, but I think a
part of him was serious about it.
"So
sweetheart, where do we go from here?" His hand rested gently on my
trembling knee.
"I
need to talk to Adam. I should have gone to see him a few days ago, he'll be
wondering where I am."
Turning
to glance at me, he smiled. "Do you really think he will be able to give
you any of the answers that you are looking for?"
"I
don't know, but it's worth a try. Besides, I really did miss my visit with him
and he will be looking for me."
The
snow was falling again, making the mountain road even more difficult to
navigate. All conversation stopped, as Chris concentrated on our safe passage
back to the motel. I settled back into the comfort of my seat, and watched the
hypnotic flakes, as they flashed through the headlights of the truck.
Suddenly
realizing that it was dark, I sat up with a gasp. "What time is it?"
"Hey there, sleepy-head. It's almost eight-thirty; you've
been asleep for a couple of hours. And, before you ask, we are almost back to
town."
Sitting
up, trying to get my bearings I reached over to run my fingers along his cheek,
"I am so sorry. I really didn't mean to fall asleep and leave you alone to
drive all of that way, in this weather."
"It's
okay, babe. I wouldn't have been very good company anyway. The roads have
gotten pretty bad and getting us down safely, took all my concentration. Plus,
you obviously needed the rest, and, you look so damned cute when you're
sleeping."
Eighteen
Leaning
back against the hard porcelain of the over-sized motel bathtub, with my eyes
closed, I listened to Chris quietly enter the room. I heard the soft clink of
glass being set down on the side of the tub and the swish of his jeans as they
slid down his legs to join my clothes on the floor.
"I
came to join you, in your steamy oasis, if that's okay."
Without
opening my eyes, I smiled slightly and curled my legs up in answer. As I felt
the water level change with the addition of Chris' body, I sent a silent thanks
to the wise designer.
"I
think all motels should have over-sized tubs like this one, just for moments
such as this."
"I
agree wholeheartedly," he whispered, as his cool fingers massaged my legs.
"I brought you a glass of wine. It's the chardonnay that you like."
"Mmmmm…"
was my only reply. I was much too comfortable at that particular moment to
verbalize anything more.
Lifting
my foot out of the warm, bubbly water, Chris continued massaging down my calf
muscle, along the edge of my foot, to my toes. I could feel the tension from
the day, flowing out of my body. It was almost as if he was forcing it out of
me, just is if he were squeezing ointment out of a tube. I quite literally felt
myself melting into the warm water surrounding my nakedness.
With
my eyes still closed, I asked, "How is it possible that you always know
just what I need?"
"That's
easy, I love you so much that I simply do what comes naturally, and it somehow
just works out."
Lifting
my other foot, he lowered the one he was finished with gently back into the
water. "Just relax and let me take care of you," he advised gently,
as my foot slipped below the surface, along the inside of his thigh, to come to
rest against his semi-hard penis.
I
finally opened my eyes, feeling his lips pressing onto my toes. I could not
believe this wonderful man was actually kissing my foot. This was new
territory; I had never experienced someone paying loving attention to that
particular part of my anatomy. While it sent an electric thrill of excitement
through me, I was very unsure of the whole thing.
"What
are you doing?"
With
a devilish glint in his eyes, he kept looking into my eyes as he opened his
mouth slightly. His tongue darted out between his parted lips, to roll around
on the pad of my big toe.
"I
love you, every inch of you and nothing about you should ever go un-kissed."
He
was clearly enjoying this.
The
feeling of my rough, un-pedicured toes being massaged by his warm, moist
tongue, while still slightly unnerving, was admittedly becoming increasingly
pleasurable. The sensation was sending tiny sparks up my legs to explode in the
pit of my stomach.
With
a slight moan and readjustment of my other foot, I was able to carefully press
against his growing erection. Running his strong hands up the length of my legs
to hold my hips, Chris allowed my thoroughly kissed foot to join its mate in
the water.
Sandwiching
his hardness between my two feet, I could feel his throbbing pulse as the blood
rushed to fill him.
His
palms moved to press flat against my churning stomach. Gulping after a few
moments, to focus himself and clearly having trouble speaking, he said, "Not
only are your feet beautiful, but it seems they are very talented as well."
Plunging
his hands into the water, he closed them around my busy feet. "God, that
feels so good, but you have to stop," he groaned shakily, as he forced my
feet to be still.
Slowly
I pulled myself up to a sitting position, between his legs. I replaced my feet
with searching fingers. "I don't want to stop, though. I want to show you
how much I love and appreciate you. And, it's pretty clear that you are
enjoying this… so why stop?"
"I
know how much you love me, darling, you show me with every glance you send in
my direction and every touch of your fingers. We don't need to touch each other
sexually to show our love.
"Just
washing your back or hair for you is an act of love. When you bring me cup of
coffee, you are showing me how much you love me. What we have, is much deeper
than just a physical need for sexual release, the physical is simply an
expression of that love.
"Now be a good girl, let go, and turn around, so I can
wash your back."
Of
course, I did just as told. After all Chris was right, what I felt for him was
much more than a physical need for sexual release. I could get that with a box
of good chocolates and a dildo.
What
we had was something I had never felt with anyone ever before.
He
did a very thorough job of making sure that I was clean, starting with my back.
Even though there was a good supply of facecloths and bath puffs in the room,
he lathered the soap onto my skin with his bare hands.
He
soothed the perfumed soap all over my back, massaging the muscles at the same
time. It felt like pure heaven to have him releasing the last of the pent-up
tension from me. As soon as he was sure that my back was as clean as it could
get, he slid his hands around my ribcage, coming to rest just under my breasts.
He
ran his fingers across my stomach and up to my shoulders, lathering up my arms,
upper chest and all the way down to my fingertips. I was leaning back onto his
chest, feeling his heart thudding and his ragged breathing.
His
lips were on my shoulder, kissing, licking, gently biting as his hands
continued to rub my flesh and hold me close against him. The anticipation and
suspense of wanting his fingers on my breasts and between my legs was driving
me crazy. Butterflies of excitement were raging a fantastic battle in my
stomach. I knew, from the way he was breathing, that he was fighting a similar
battle.
I
also knew that below the surface of the water, I was wet with a creamier, more
intimate wetness than the simple tap water and bubble bath covering our bodies.
Chris was holding me at the edge of release, without even touching any of the
nerve endings usually associated with sexual tension. It was amazing and
frustrating at the same time.
I
could feel his immense hardness pressing against my spine. As I wiggled my ass
against him, I felt his erection jump at the exact same moment that I felt an
electric spasm jolt my clitoris.
Orgasm
was so close. I pressed my head back into his shoulder and squeezed my legs
together as tightly as I could. My fingernails bit into the skin of his knees,
on either side of me.
"Oh
God, Chris, touch me." I begged, "I need you, please."
"No
way," he whispered against my hot skin. "I am enjoying watching you
squirm way too much. I want it to last. You are so hot right now, if I so much
as slipped one finger between your lips, you'd explode."
His
words next to my skin had pushed me even closer to the brink. I was moaning and
moving against him with such abandon now that the water was splashing over the
edge of the tub and wetting our clothes piled there. Neither of us cared.
His
hips were moving in time with mine as we crushed his hardness between us. I
feared that we would damage him, we were gyrating together with that much
force.
His
hands moved to grasp the tops of my thighs and pulled me even harder against
him. His teeth pressed into the flesh of my neck with slightly more pressure as
a moan escaped from deep within his throat.
Pulling
my thighs apart, his fingers slid to just barely touch my extremely engorged
vulva. That was enough! The first, unbelievably powerful spasm broke through
me. With more force than I had ever imagined possible, the rhythmic pulsing of
absolute release shook me. As my abdominal muscles tensed and relaxed
repeatedly, the outward sign of the same spasming taking place deeper in me, I
rocked back and forth against Chris' chest.
I
continued to hold onto his legs, afraid to let go, as I had no idea what my body
would do if l didn't have some sort of anchor. Eventually, my heart rate and
breathing started to return to normal. Chris closed his one hand over my still
shuddering pussy and the other pressed tightly against my trembling stomach.
His
kisses were again raining over my shoulders and the back of my neck as he
whispered his love for me. That was about the time, I realized that he no
longer had a raging hard-on. Without me even noticing, he must have joined me
as I crashed through the waves of ecstasy.
Finding my voice, I whispered, "Well, if that wasn't one
unbelievable expression of physical love… then I don't know what is."
"You've
got that right, sweetheart," Chris whispered against my neck, "It was
one hell of an expression."
After
a quick shower together, to remove the bubbles and whatnot left over from the
bath, we fell into bed. Naked and happy, we were both completely satisfied. I
never would have thought that I could have felt so satisfied without any actual
sexual contact. Chris was definitely right, what we had was so much more than
purely physical … but the physical was good too.
We
lay together in the middle of the queen-sized bed, wrapped in each other's arms,
and fell peacefully to sleep.
The
next day, our adventure would begin anew, but for that night, we floated away,
blissfully unaware of what lay ahead. We stayed tightly within a cocoon
constructed of our love and contentment.
Nineteen
I walked
into the group-home the next afternoon with a strange mixture of emotions
coursing through me. Memories of the night before, as well as this morning's
lovemaking were still fresh in my mind. I had a feeling of contentment and
acceptance, which I had never felt before. I could only accredit it to Chris'
love. As long as I knew that he would be there for me, I felt that I could do
anything.
Adam
had a job at a grocery store, where he was a very diligent stock-boy. He had
worked there for almost twenty years. It was a part of a governmentally run
program, which helped mentally challenged adults become contributing members of
society. It was a wonderful program that has helped many people who would have
otherwise been forgotten about.
I knew that it had been a wonder for Adam. He loved working in
the store. He loved numbers and as far as he was concerned, there was no better
place to count things, than the never-ending rows of packages lining the grocer's
shelves.
His
shift was over that day at three o'clock and he would be back home by four. For
the last five years, he had been using public transportation to get to and from
work, as well as outings to the movie or mall, with his aide.
His
bus-pass was by far his most prized possession, at that time. The fact that he
was able to make the trip every day for work on his own was a huge deal. Dad
and I had gone to the group-home for a celebration dinner the first evening
after he had reached this goal. Dad even got his first bus-pass framed and Adam
had it hanging on his bedroom wall.
Chris
and I had arrived rather early and we had considered driving over to the other
side of town to pick Adam up. The administrator advised us against it though.
She told us that any time Adam had been picked up in the past, he had reacted
very badly. He saw it as a punishment.
Having
the freedom to make his own way home was something that he had worked extremely
hard to achieve and I admired him for it.
* * * *
In the
meantime, Chris and I decided to do some shopping. We had both packed very
lightly when we left home and needed to pick up a few things. Chris left me
sitting in the food court of the mall with my coffee, saying that there was
something else he had forgotten to grab.
As
I sat there sipping on my French-Vanilla Cappuccino, I let my gaze stray across
the masses of people around me. Most of them moved with a sort of urgency about
them. They seemed to all be on a mission and tightly wrapped within their own
private 'bubble'. Interaction with the people around them was avoided, at all
costs. At least that was how it appeared for most of them anyway.
Those
that did attempt to make eye contact with a smile at passersby were a rarity.
One group of teenagers caught my attention in particular. The six of them stood
around the food court, each doing the exact same thing as the rest.
They smiled and said 'Hello, welcome to the mall," to
every person that passed by them. At first, I thought that they were just
trying to be annoying, or perhaps they were staging some sort of very quiet
protest. I watched them with growing interest trying to figure out just what it
was that they were up to.
The
teenaged boy who was closest to me looked just like any youth out on the street
at that particular time. His blonde-tipped hair was messy and had a glossy
sheen to it, a clear indication that it was either firmly gelled or 'glued'.
His
jeans were very faded and frayed and at least three sizes too big. His cotton
shirt, while clearly clean and freshly pressed, held a map of wrinkles where it
had pulled free from the belt, which was cinched below his hips instead of
around his waist. His footwear of choice, even though there was a good covering
of snow outside, was running shoes.
He
looked like any young person you would see riding his skateboard dangerously
close to traffic.
What
really caught my attention though, was what he was holding in his hands. Two
identical counters, the type that you press a button with your thumb each time
you want to add to your tally. Every time he greeted someone, his thumb would
click that little knob on the counter in his left hand. If he got a positive
response, the right thumb clicked.
All
six of those kids were doing the same thing. They all had those counters, and
they were keeping track of something.
My
eyes wondered back to my closest 'clicker'. An adult with a clipboard and pen
was talking to him. He was jotting down the numbers from the two clickers onto
the paper, in two very concise columns.
Without
even realizing that I had left my seat, I found myself standing in front of
them. As they turned in unison to look at me, I said, "Thank you."
The
boy just stood there looking confused and rather embarrassed, while his teacher
asked if one of his students had done something, which he should be made aware
of. As he began to explain that they had permission from the mall authorities
to be there, I interrupted him.
"I
am thanking you, for those who didn't or couldn't. You are out here doing a
scientific experiment, to examine the reactions of people to strangers; but you
are giving gifts that are much deeper than you could even imagine."
The
other five students had gathered around and I turned to each of them.
"You
welcomed a girl, about your own age, all dressed in black with 'Goth' make-up.
She came to the mall today to buy razor blades and sleeping pills. In her mind,
this was a world that neither knew nor cared that she even existed. For the
past year, her life has been spiraling out of control; she has not felt that
she had a reason to live for a long time. Right now, she is in the toy store
carefully choosing the perfect teddy bear for her brand new nephew. She is
going to be an awesome aunty.
"The
little old lady that clutched her purse to her chest and looked so terrified
when you spoke to her, stood a little straighter after she passed by you. Her
world has changed so much; her neighborhood has become filled with loud
teenagers, who she does not recognize. She has hidden away, in her house, out
of fear of them, even though they have never done anything to her. She is old
and alone; sometimes that is all it takes.
"She bumped into one of those neighborhood kids, right
after you spoke to her and he smiled at her. Now he has a job shoveling her
sidewalk, and helping her out with some yard work. He is helping her carry her
bags to the car, right now.
"Each
and every one of you has made a difference in the world today. You warmed many
hearts, showed the world that there are still some out here that care. You did
not do anything too strenuous; it did not hurt you or cost you anything, but it
was priceless. You have the power to change lives. You have the power to change
the world. Hold on to that power, never forget about it and use it wisely …
every day!"
Before
any of them could even think of anything to say, I turned away to join Chris.
He had gathered the packages that I had left at the table. I met him halfway,
slipped my arm through his, kissed him on the cheek and we left the mall.
"What
was that all about?" he asked on our way to the truck. "Those kids
you were talking to all had tears in their eyes."
"Oh,
I was just talking to them about a project that they are doing for school. So,
tell me, what did you have to slip off by yourself to buy?"
I
changed the subject, after all, how could I explain what had happened in the
mall to Chris, when I didn't understand it myself!
Twenty
Adam was
sitting in the living room when we got back to the home. I could hear his
housemates in the kitchen, preparing supper. There were six men living in the
house, along with the staff. Two staff members were always on hand, day and
night and the administrator was present during the day, from Monday to Friday.
The residents share all the household chores. It really was a
wonderful set-up; they all worked and ran the house. They were regular members
of society, as much as they could be, they just had some extra support, through
their aides.
That
day was clearly not Adam's day to help with the preparation of supper, he more
than likely had to help with the clean up after the meal. He was watching a
program about lions on the television. Adam liked anything to do with nature,
almost as much as he liked numbers.
As
I walked into the room, he looked up from the flickering screen, smiled and
said, "Hi there, Ella. You're late."
Sitting
down beside him on the couch, I carefully placed my hand on his knee. I knew
that he did not like to be touched. In the past, a simple pat on the back had
sent him into an uncontrollable rage.
"I
know, Adam, and I am sorry, but it couldn't be helped," I told him
quietly.
"Sixty-four,"
he responded.
"Sixty-four?
What's that about, Adam?"
"That's how many times most people use that excuse in a
year, sixty-four, and mosta the time it ain't true."
A
quick laugh bubbled up from my throat. "You are probably right."
"Nanny
died."
"I
know, Adam. She was old; it was her time to go."
"I
know, you told me that before. You took me to see her, in the box."
Turning
abruptly, he began tapping his finger against my chest. Knowing that this was a
normal action of his, I ignored it at first. I ignored it, until he pressed his
hand flat against my chest, nearly imbedding the amulet into my skin.
I
closed my hand over his. "Adam, that hurts!"
He
started to vibrate and looked directly in my eyes. For the first time in more
years than I could remember, my brother looked directly into my eyes. When he
spoke, his voice was clear and strong. It held none of the hesitation or
shakiness that I had grown accustomed to.
"You
have the key. She gave it to you and you never told me.
"Learn
how to use it, Ella, learn quickly because we do not have much time left. You
have to remember. It is time…now!
"I
had to remember the numbers, but you have to remember the rest. You know what
to do. You know what to say. You know it all. You just do not know the numbers,
that was my job.
"They
will help you, Eluna, they have been helping you all along. They have been
watching out for us both the whole time. Remember, Ella! You have to remember!"
Adam
jumped up from the couch and began pacing around the small room, touching
everything he passed. His fingers were in constant motion as he mumbled a
litany of seemingly disjointed numbers. The same ones repeated over and over
again.
None
of it made any sense to me. I figured he was just rambling again, because I had
agitated him somehow, but he did know about the amulet and my other name … how
was that possible?
"Adam,
honey, calm down. It will be okay. Come sit down and talk to me, I have missed
you."
I
gently coaxed him back to the sofa. He was whispering the same sequence of
numbers and mathematical equations, but at least he seemed to be a little less
upset.
"Adam,
how did you know that Nanny gave me the necklace?" I asked him softly,
even though Chris was giving me a look that screamed to tread lightly.
I
had to try to get through to Adam; he obviously had some information locked
away in his memories. I needed to tap into those, somehow … right then!
"I
knew because, I knew," he stated simply, as if that should be abundantly
clear to anyone listening.
"But,
how did you know, Adam? Did Dad tell you?"
"Of
course not, Dad never tells me anything anymore, he thinks I am too stupid to
be allowed to know anything. He never used to think that, before they took Mum
away. He always trusted me before that.
"He
trusted me to hold her. He trusted me to help keep you safe. I was always the
one that was trusted, she even trusted me with the numbers. She said
that it was important.
"Remember
the numbers, Adam. Always remember the numbers. If you do not remember anything
else in your whole life, remember the numbers.
"That's
what she said, and I have never forgotten them. They are the most important
part of this whole thing. And, I was trusted to remember them. They are my
numbers. I took care of them!
"Not
you!
"Me!
"They
trusted me!
"You
were too little, I guess. They couldn't give you the numbers; you would have
got them all mixed up.
"But
not me!
"I
remembered them!
"If
you don't remember anything else in your whole life, remember those numbers.
That's what she said, and I did."
"Mum
told you to remember the numbers? Before she left?" I was getting even
more confused.
"No,
not Mum, Ella. She didn't want anything to do with the truth; she just wanted
you to be a regular little girl. 'The Lady' told me."
"What
lady? Adam?"
"The
one who came to the house with the pink hat, of course. Every Sunday she came
to test you. She put her pink hat on the stand in the front hall; it was the
signal to the rest of them that it was test day. They all knew what it meant
and they would come to watch the tests."
Chris
was looking to me for answers; I just shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea what
Adam was talking about. I did not remember ever going through tests, except in
school.
"Adam,
I can't remember anyone coming over to the house to test me. Do you know who
she was?"
"Sure!
She still comes to see me every month, on the first Saturday of the month. She
brings me things. Last month she brought me a new baseball cap, and she says
that we are gonna go see a game in the summer again.
"She
is getting old too. I hope she doesn't have to go in a box."
Knowing
that I could easily find out from the staff who this woman was that was
visiting Adam, I decided to move on.
"Adam,
can you tell me the numbers now? I promise to never lose them. Nanny trusted me
with the amulet, so maybe you could trust me with the numbers too."
He
turned back to me, with a look of shock on his face. As his eyes began to
glisten with tears, he whispered, "Of course I trust you. I always have,
we all have. To not trust you would be foolish and I am no fool."
Reaching
out, he took my hands between his and knelt on the floor in front of me. "You
are the one, Ella. You are more important than all the rest. You will make the
rejoining happen, and everything will be made right. Your caretakers should
never have been allowed to stifle you.
"They
hid you away. They kept you away from the world, out there on that God-forsaken
farm, in the middle of nowhere.
"They
sent me away, so that I could no longer help you find the way. But, they could
not take away the numbers and now it is my greatest honor to give them to you."
As
I sat there dumbfounded, staring at this man in front of me, he turned to
Chris.
"Mark
it down on paper and be sure to mark it all down exactly as I say it. It is
more important than you will ever know."
Turning
his eyes back to me, he started rambling off the same list of numbers and
mathematical equations that he had been saying before. This time though, he was
extremely calm. He was not the same person anymore. He did not stammer or
mumble. He had no twitches or ticks. His eyes were perfectly clear, with none
of the confusion or fear that had fogged them for so many years.
When
he finished dictating the numbers to Chris, he stood and pulled me up to stand
with him. The Adam that I knew, the one who hated to be touched and would never
willingly touch another person, except with the tips of his fingers, was gone.
My scared, confused brother no longer existed.
The
stranger standing in front of me stood straighter, spoke with authority and eloquence,
and had the look of someone who had been relieved of a great burden after a
long time. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close, for the first time
that I could remember. Placing a soft, loving kiss upon my tear-stained cheek,
he whispered, "It's time to go home."
With
that, he reached behind the sofa, pulled out a small suitcase he had hidden
there and headed to the kitchen. He was only gone for a few minutes when he
returned to the living room, followed closely by the administrator.
"What
is this all about?" she demanded.
Chris
and I were still standing, exactly as we had been when Adam walked away. I
think we were both in a state of shock. I just looked at the irate woman,
trying to get my mind around everything that had just happened.
"Adam just informed me that he is leaving," Mrs.
Brock told me, as though I should know how to handle the situation.
Adam
was the one who actually spoke to her. "Has something happened in the past
few years, of which I am unaware, Mrs. Brock? I was of the understanding that
my staying here was voluntary. It has always been stipulated to me that I would
be free to come and go as I saw fit. Has that fact changed, without my
knowledge?"
It
only took a moment for Mrs. Brock to regain her composure; she was clearly as
shaken by the dramatic change in Adam as we were. "You are not a prisoner
here, Adam. If you are deemed capable by someone in authority, you can leave."
"By
someone in authority, do you mean a doctor?"
"Yes,
Adam, that is precisely what I mean."
"Well,
Dr. McLean here is my family's physician, he was brought here by my sister,
whom I understand is on the record as my next of kin; therefore it would stand
to reason that he has full authority over this matter." Adam informed her,
turning to Chris.
"Oh,
well… yes… but…" Mrs. Brock stammered.
Without
missing a beat, Chris pulled his pen from his pocket, clicked it open and said,
"Now, if you have some forms for me to sign before Adam leaves, I would
appreciate you retrieving them."
* * * *
Walking
out the front door on the arm of the new version of my beloved brother, I felt
as though the world was spinning wildly out of control beneath my feet. When we
reached Chris' truck, Adam opened the door for me to get in.
As
I silently took my seat, he leaned in to place another kiss on my cheek. "I
will not be traveling with you. There is much, which I want to see. I shall
make my own way home and I shall see you soon my sweet, sweet, Ella."
Straightening,
he looked over the top of the door to Chris. "Take her to see Aunt Rachel.
She can help, I believe."
As
he turned to walk away, I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, "But how will
you get home? I thought we would be able to…"
"I
know what you thought, Ella, but we both have paths that we must travel, and
they go in different directions, for now. Have no fear, I have plenty of money
in my bank account, I will be more than able to make my own way home."
As I stood there on the snow-packed sidewalk with Chris,
watching Adam walk away, I felt myself falling. The blackness that engulfed me
was complete and there was no way for me to fight against it, I had to simply
give myself over to it--allow it to carry me away!
Twenty-one
Absolute
blackness!
I was so
cold, scared, and alone!
I
did not know where I was or how I had gotten there. There was nothing but the
harsh, thick blackness around me.
It
was hard to breathe. I felt like I was drowning. The blackness was so thick; my
lungs were not strong enough to pull it in.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I was so scared. I
was trapped in the darkness, alone and lost.
Where
was everyone?
Where
was Chris?
Where
was I?
Suddenly
there was movement within the void. Blacker forms were moving through the
darkness, like shadows in the night. Two of them were moving around me.
Then,
somewhere in the distance, far off to my left, a light appeared. At first, it
was nothing more than a pinprick of a lighter degree of darkness, but as I
watched, it grew and intensified.
As
the orb of light gained in size and momentum, I was able to make out a faint
form in front of it. Someone was moving towards me from within that soft light.
It was a woman, tall and slender, with soft hair that moved in a breeze, which
I could not feel.
She
moved close to my side, but with the light coming from behind her, I was unable
to see any of the details, which were her. She was just a silhouette of
radiating light in a world of darkness. I was sure that this was someone that I
knew. Before she even spoke to me, I felt certain I would recognize her voice.
Her
soft whispery voice fell upon my ears as water onto the lips of a man lost in
the desert.
"Do
not be afraid, my sweet child. There may be many mysteries ahead of you, held
within the darkness of the unknown, but there are even more mysteries in the
light. Those are the ones that are waiting for you. You must strive for those.
"None
of the mysteries of either plane is to be feared, by you. Know that you are on
your way. Greatness unknown is waiting for you, as are we.
"You
know what you have to do, you just have to remember. It is all within you;
allow the memories to surface. Let go of the fear. Stand firm in the knowledge
that it shall all be made clear to you soon. Know that the others are with you,
you are not alone … never alone."
I
knew that my lips did not move, but I somehow asked her, "Who are you?
Where are we and why is it so very dark? I don't like it here. I want to go
home; I want to be with Chris, where it is safe."
"The
answers to all of those questions are already within you. Your fear of the
unknown is holding them down. Let go of the fear. Let go of the past. You have
the key. The time is drawing near for the rejoining.
"Trust
yourself. Trust those who love you. While they may have gone about it all the
wrong way, they have done their best to protect you, your whole life. Most
importantly … trust us!"
Another
voice broke in, blocking hers out. I did not want to hear that voice. I wanted
her to stay with me. I wanted her to keep talking. Her presence made me feel
safe. Somehow, I knew that nothing in this blackness could harm me as long as
she was at my side. As I watched, she began to move away, back towards the
soft, misty light.
I
wanted to go with her. I called out to her, begging her to take me with her. As
she whispered that we would be together soon enough, the light absorbed her.
The
other voice had made her leave. The man who was speaking forced his way between
us. I didn't want her to go; why did he have to make her leave? Why couldn't he
just have stayed away and left us alone in the mist? Who was he anyway?
As
I turned my head to yell at this stranger, the darkness began to fade. Light
exploded, filling the space around me. Sounds assaulted my ears as the light
seared into my eyes.
The
shadowy forms from the darkness were still there in the light, but they had
begun to take shape, become solid. I could not bear to look at them, the light
bouncing off them caused unbearable pain.
I
could hear him speaking again.
He
was calling me by name, telling me to open my eyes. I could not understand how
he knew my name. I did not know why he would want me to open my eyes.
Did
he know that the light was causing a searing pain to burn its way through my
head?
Did
he know that it felt as though two white-hot daggers were piercing my brain
through my eyes?
Did
he care?
Was
he hurting me on purpose?
If
I kept my eyes closed long enough, would the pain go away? Would he?
I
heard him calling again. Closer this time, "Ella, Ella, open your eyes,
honey."
He
sounded concerned, but that could be a deception. Whoever he was, he could be
trying to make me submit to him, so that he could hurt me more.
I
wanted to stay in the mists that were surrounding me. I did not want to go
anywhere near the searing, painful whiteness of the light. I did not want to go
back to the fearsome blackness of the dark. I wanted to just stay in the soft
mist, between the two.
It
was safe in the mist. It was comforting and warm, like a soft feather duvet
covering on a well-known bed. Like being in the arms of a trusted lover;
knowing that you are protected from all harm. It may have been nothing more
than an illusion, but it was a comforting illusion that I tried my best to hold
onto.
"Ella,
please come back to me. It's Chris. Open your eyes honey. Come on, Ella, please
open your eyes."
Finding
my voice, I whispered, "It's so warm here, Chris. Where are you? I can't
see you."
Open
your eyes, sweetheart, I am right in front of you."
"It
hurts," I tried to explain to him. "The light hurts my head, it's too
bright."
I
heard him moving around and then I felt him beside me again, "I closed all
the shades, you can open your eyes now."
Slowly,
I did open my eyes. The pain was still there, but nowhere near as bad as it had
been earlier. As Chris came into focus, I could see the worry, etched on his
face. A soft smile moved over his lips. "You had us quite worried."
"Where
are we?" I slowly looked around the room. It all seemed very familiar to
me, but I could not quite place it.
"Adam
insisted that we bring you straight to your Aunt Rachel's house. You are in the
bed in her guest room."
At
the mention of Adam, everything came rushing back to me. The amulet, Nanny's
story, my mother, the drastic change in Adam. All of it flooded over me in a
wave that shook me to the bone.
"I
passed out."
Gently
swiping a piece of hair out of my face, Chris told me that I had been
unconscious for almost two days. He and Adam had taken me to Rachel's, where
the three of them had taken care of me. Adam was in the next room and Aunt
Rachel had just left to get my father.
A
sudden rush of panic came over me. I knew that I only had a certain amount of
time left before things had to be sorted out and I had wasted two of them.
"I
have to get up. I have wasted enough time, Chris! It's time to get serious. It
is imperative that I get all of the answers as soon as I can. I don't know why
it's so important; I just know that it is!"
As
I forced myself to sit on the side of the bed, my head swam and a sharp pain
stabbed the side of my skull.
Chris
wrapped his arm around my waist to steady me. "Take it easy, Ella. You hit
your head, hard, when you went down. You have a nice goose egg there on the
side of your head. You're probably going to be dizzy for a while, but you will
be okay."
Adam
stepped through the door. "Hey, baby sister. You just about ready to get
back to work? You have a lot to do and not much time left."
When
Chris tried to protest, I stilled him with a light touch on his knee, "No,
Chris, Adam's right. I am going to need your help though. And I need to talk to
Aunt Rachel."
The
front door shut with a bang, right then and I heard Rachel and Dad in the hall.
My wonderful aunt stuck her head in the door. "Oh good, you're up. I think
we have everything ready in the living room. Maybe something to eat and drink
first, though."
With
that, she was gone again.
That
was my Aunt Rachel… always in a big rush and always feeding everyone.
Twenty-two
Aunt
Rachel always did make the very best vegetable soup in these parts. She'd even
won a bunch of blue ribbons at the county fair, for it. The big bowlful that
she brought me that day though, tasted even better than usual. Perhaps it was
because I was so ravenously hungry.
I
did not waste one second emptying that bowl. I even used the warm, freshly
baked roll to sop up every drop of the mouth-watering broth.
Chris
had stayed with me while I ate. When I finished emptying the bowl and filling
my grumbling belly, I lifted my eyes to find him watching me. He had a very
amused look on his face.
"So
much for being 'oh so ladylike' all the time, and eating like a bird to retain
your girlish figure," his chuckle warmed me nearly as much as the soup. "It's
nice to see you actually know how to let your guard down once in a while. Those
veggies never stood a chance against you. Your assault on them was both
thorough and complete. They never even saw you coming."
We
were both laughing as he passed me a steaming cup of tea. Sitting beside me on
the soft bed, he leaned over and lovingly kissed my brow. "I have never
seen you look so beautiful as you do right now."
"Oh
really, I can just imagine what I must look like."
"The way your hair is totally mussed up, standing up on
end and hanging in your face is very endearing, in an animalistic sort of way.
The puffiness of your eyes, from spending nearly forty-eight hours in some
other realm, reminds me of the way you look after a long night of lovemaking.
"Even
the tiny drop of soup that has dribbled down your chin is wonderful. It all
works together to show a softer more vulnerable side of you. A side you don't
let many people see."
As
he was thoroughly enjoying teasing me, my hands flew to my hair, trying to make
it lay down, to no avail. When my trembling fingers found the moisture on my
chin, I was mortified. "I am so glad you are finding all of this so
amusing, Dr. McLean."
Taking
the still steaming cup from me and putting it down on the bedside table, he
took me in his arms.
"Sweetheart,
the fact that you are sitting here with your crazy hair and puffy eyes, with
enough control over your muscles to get all but one drop of soup into your
mouth, makes me happier than anything ever has in my whole life."
We
clung to each other, as if the mere idea of being separated was something that
neither one of us could bear.
"I
am so sorry," I murmured, shakily into his shoulder, "I didn't mean
to give everyone such a bad fright. I didn't even realize that I was gone. When
I woke up, I was so confused."
Sitting
back enough to be able to look in his eyes, I continued, "Chris, it felt
like I just closed my eyes for a few minutes. How is it possible that I don't
remember being out for so long?"
"It's
that good old protection thing at work again," he reassured me, as he
gently ran his hand down the side of my head.
When
his fingers accidentally grazed the knot on my skull, I winced and brought my
own hand up to the spot. "Oh! That really hurts!"
Chris
carefully brought his lips to rest on the hot distended skin. "It is
actually a good thing that it is sore and swollen. If you had hit your head
that hard and it wasn't, then I would really be concerned. Now, get yourself
into that bathroom and have a shower. I have a feeling that your aunt has a lot
planned for you. Plus, you will feel a lot better once you're cleaned up and
dressed."
As
I made my way to the adjoining bathroom, I turned back to Chris. "Thank
you," I hoped he knew how deeply I meant it.
"You
are the strongest person I have ever known, Ella. Nothing is going to happen
here that you cannot handle. You just have to believe in yourself." He
smiled, and as I closed the door, I heard him whisper… "I love you."
Twenty-three
When I
finally came back out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed--just as Chris had
said I would--I was startled to find Adam sitting cross-legged in the middle of
the big bed. He was holding the paper Chris had written on at the home.
I walked over to him and he held it out to me, saying, "You
need to look at this, Ella, before you go out into the living room." He
patted the bed in front of him, indicating that he wanted me to come and sit
there with him.
He
passed the page to me silently, as I looked into his eyes. I still could not
get over the difference in him. He was like a totally different person, as
though the real Adam had been hiding and now for some reason, he had stepped
out into the light.
"It'll
be okay," he promised, with a wink.
Looking
at the page, I began to shake uncontrollably. "Adam, can you help me with
this? I have never been very good at math, especially something this
complicated."
"Honey,
I really do not know what it all means. To be honest, I can't even remember any
of the numbers anymore. As I walked out the front door of that house for the
last time, it was as if I became a completely new person. I know that probably
doesn't make much sense, but it is true."
"It
makes perfect sense to me, Adam. You are a different person now. Even
the way you stand, walk, and talk is completely different from the way you
were. You're not the scared child anymore, you are a man all of a sudden."
"It's almost as though the last thirty years never
happened." He looked at me, through lowered lashes, "Except that we are
all that much older. It really is a strange feeling, Ella. Now the task is to
find out what's going on and why."
Looking
back down to the paper in my hand, I asked, "How am I supposed to figure
this all out?"
"Just
read it out and see what happens. I just have this gut feeling that you will
know what it all means. Maybe the answers will simply materialize. I have no
idea. All I do know for certain, is that you are the one who has to do
this.
"We
all tried to have a go at it while you were out, but none of us could even read
it all. It just made us sick. It was like we were all suffering from a terrible
case of sea-sickness, just from looking at those numbers."
Taking
a deep breath, I began to read what he had dictated to Chris, word for word;
number for number.
First,
you take the number two and times it by ten and one, then double it again. Add
that to one more than four thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine. Multiply all
of that by the number of fingers on your hand and put it together with seven
hundred and eighty. Multiply it again with the number of hours in a day and a
half and split it into two thousand pieces. Now, take one of those pieces and
take away nine and ninety. After you double that, throw away six
hundred with twenty-eight. Put eighty-two together with it and divide all of
that by sixty-four. That is the first number that goes in the line.
My head was swimming. "This is what you
used to say all the time, Adam. You used to repeat all of it, all the time. It
goes on and on, are you telling me that this whole thing is what the woman told
you to remember?"
"No,
I don't think so. I am quite sure that in the beginning, I just had the actual
numbers in my head. Somehow, over the years I turned it all into this rambling
monologue that you now have in front of you. I don't know what the numbers were
and I can't even figure out how to make any sense out of my own ramblings.
Sitting here listening to you read it, it just sounds like nonsense to me."
Turning
back to the page, I started to see the equations. "As far as I can tell,
there are three separate equations here. It refers to the first, middle, and
last numbers in a line."
It
was all becoming clear as crystal, it was right there in front of me. "I
don't understand why none of you were able to figure this out. I know that
Chris is a very intelligent man and Aunt Rachel has done accounting. Why couldn't
any of you do it, Adam?"
Handing
me a pencil and a clean sheet of paper, Adam informed me that I was the only
one who had even been able to actually read it. Whenever the rest of them had
tried, strange things had happened.
Adam,
himself had not been able to read it. Every time he had tried, he could not
even recognize any of the letters. Chris and Aunt Rachel were both struck with
terrible headaches--in fact, Aunt Rachel had actually lost her sight as a
result for a few hours, the last time she tried.
"Someone,
or something, did not want any of us to figure this out."
Taking
the paper and pencil, I moved over to the small desk to try to figure out the
problems. As the desk was under the window of the yellow and white room, the
natural light from the sun filtering in under the lowered shade would be easier
on my eyes.
I
wrote down the equations as I found them, for all three of the numbers, before
I even attempted to try to solve any of them.
2
x 11 x 2 + 5000 x 5 + 780 x 36 ¸ 2000 –
99 x 2 – 628 + 82 ¸ 64 =
100
x 6 – 16 + 3000 ¸ 2 x 3 – 2500 ¸ 4 + 5 x 2 – 700 ¸ 4 – 174
=
10
x 60 – 120 ¸ 3 + 1 x 25 – 5 ¸ 2 =
I came up with the sums for all of these, after struggling to
filter through the profoundly confusing ramblings. I finally came up with the
numbers 3, 13 and 2,010. I tried writing them out in every order I could think
of. I tried adding them all together, multiplying them, subtracting the smaller
two from the larger.
They
meant nothing to me; I was at my wit's-end, until I happened to glance at the
little calendar that was sitting right in front of me, at the corner of the
desk.
3
– 13 – 2010
It
was suddenly completely clear to me.
"It's
a date! Adam, this all came together to make a date. A date, Adam. It really
was so obvious, it has been right there in front of us all along. See, look at
this, Adam, it's the thirteenth of March, two thousand and ten."
Chris
was standing in the doorway. I don't know how long he had been standing there;
maybe he came running when he heard me getting excited. Maybe he had been
standing there watching my puzzling it all out. I didn't care. I was so excited
to finally get a part of the puzzle figured out.
"It's
a date, Chris. All that muttering and rambling, he did for all those wasted
years, just for a stupid date. Why would someone make him remember a date? Why
would they be so adamant about it that they would force Adam to forget so much
of the rest of his life? It's just a day Chris, just a stupid number on a
calendar!"
"It's
not just any date, Ella" he interjected, "look at the calendar again.
It's March thirteenth, two thousand and ten. That is this coming Saturday, that
is in four days. What could be so important about that day?"
I
turned back to Adam. "For thirty years, you have been living every moment
of every day, just to tell me this date. It has to be important. I wish you
could remember why Saturday is so important. Adam, are you positive that you
don't have any idea what this is all about?"
"He
already told you, Ella," Aunt Rachel scolded from the door. "It was
his duty to remember the numbers. Just the numbers. Now it is up to you to
remember the rest. It's time for you to get to work; there is obviously not a
lot of time left."
Looking
up at her, as tears once again stung my eyes, I was amazed at the strength that
she seemed to exude.
She'd
had her naturally curly hair cut very recently. I was not used to seeing her
with such short hair. It had always hung to her shoulders for as long as I
could remember and grey always streaked through the tresses. Now, as well as
the new style it was dyed, no more gray. Multiple shades of brown and red
worked together, making her look years younger.
Standing
there with her arms crossed under her ample breast, she made it clear that she
was 'a force to reckoned with'. Her jean-clad legs spread, stocking feet firmly
planted, she gave the impression that she was ready to take on the world.
I
found myself wondering where the sweet little woman, who always had homemade
soup and cookies ready, had gone. Although I must say, I got a strange feeling
of security from this new Aunt Rachel. Maybe I was clinging to anything
that could have the remotest possibility of helping me right then, but I
absolutely knew that she was an integral part of what was about to happen. I
knew that with her help I would figure it all out--eventually.
"Is
it time, Aunt Rachel? Time for Ella's test?" Adam asked quietly from his
perch on the bed. "Are you going to put your hat on the stand in the hall,
this time? Or, are we past that now?"
Before
she had a chance to make any type of response, I jumped to my feet. "You
are the woman he was talking about, the one with the pink hat? You're the one
that he said came to test me?"
"Ella,"
she soothed. "I promise that all of your questions will be answered soon.
You will remember everything; you just have to trust us. We are all here
because we love you. Can you at least try to trust us? Can you do that, Ella?"
I
slowly looked around the room at each of the people gathered there, all of them
looking at me, with real concern in their eyes. Could I? Could I truly trust
them all?
Chris was the man that I loved, more than life itself. I knew
that I could trust him, no matter what happened. I knew that he truly did love
me in return and would never let anything happen to me.
Adam was my brother, who I had always felt
I had to protect. Now he was so strong and self-assured. He had loved me
unconditionally my whole life. He had given up his life to be able to give me
the date. I knew I could trust him.
Aunt Rachel had been my confidante as a
young woman. It was because of her that I had Chris so deeply ingrained into my
life. If she hadn't urged me on, I never would have had the courage to follow
my heart. Yes, I could give her my trust!
Dad! I could see him through the doorway,
lurking in the shadows behind Aunt Rachel, as though he was afraid, or perhaps
ashamed. Could I trust him? Did I even want to? What had he done through the
years? He had lied to me about my mother; forced me to stay on the farm with
his neediness! He had kept me from having any real friends, because of his own
fears. He had held me back from life, closed me away from the world. He had
stifled me! He had fed me, clothed me, protected me, and loved me, maybe too
much! He was my father and I loved, forgave, and yes… trusted him
Turning back to Aunt Rachel, with a deep steadying breath, "Yes
Rachel, I trust you; all of you. I am ready to face whatever it is that I have
to do. Let's get to the bottom of all of this!"
Twenty-four
It felt almost like a funeral procession, as we made our way
into the living room, everyone was so solemn. Most of the furniture had been
moved out of the spacious room, making it look even bigger. Aunt Rachel's big
coffee table sitting in the middle of the room was loaded down with papers,
files, textbooks, and photo albums. The mantle over the fireplace was filled
with framed photographs and white candles. The flickering of the candlelight
caught and reflected in the huge mirror hanging over the mantle.
The
small round table that usually sat in the bay window was beside the fireplace,
more candles, and pictures covering its surface. As I moved further into the
room, I noticed that every available surface held a white flickering candle.
There were so many of them burning, that even with the heavy drapes drawn tight
at the two big windows, it was quite bright in the room.
The
bulbs had been removed from the overhead light fixture and all of the lamps
removed from the room. I can't explain why, but none of this struck me as
unusual in the least. I had the feeling wash over me that everything necessary
had been done to ensure my safe passage through a very trying time. It reminded
me of stories I had heard as a child, where in the days of old, the wizards
would all gather and form a circle. Using their united powers to ensure the
outcome of a battle, keeping the hero unharmed.
It
seemed a very strange thought to have at the time. As far as I knew, I was not
heading out to do battle and no one in that room was a wizard, but that was the
feeling that filled me.
The
only thing in the room to sit on was a vast assortment of pillows, no chairs,
sofas or stools to be seen anywhere. I folded my legs under me and lowered
myself onto a pile near the end of the coffee table. I hoped someone would say
something soon to break the tension in the room.
Surprisingly,
my father spoke first. "Ella, the time has come for everything to be
brought to the surface. Aunt Rachel has worked out a plan for the best way to
continue. With the help of this extensive amount of material you see before
you, we are going to travel with you, through the years.
"We are planning to delve deeply into your past. Some of
the memories will be painful, but you must keep in mind that we are here, with
you and that each of us loves you unendingly."
As
I looked closely at him, I saw a side of my father that amazed me. His love for
me was blatantly clear in his eyes, as was his fear for me. He reached across
the corner of the table and laid his hand on my shoulder. "We
Reaching
up, I closed my hand over his, "I love you too, Dad. Thank you for being
here."
"What
do you remember, Ella, from right before you passed out?" Aunt Rachel
broke into one of the few tender moments I had ever had with my father.
"Oh…
well… I was watching Adam walk up the street, that's about it. I really don't
see how watching my brother enjoy his first few moments of freedom, after so
long, could be something that would make me pass out."
"I
need you to really think about it though, my dear," Aunt Rachel insisted. "Let
your mind flow freely, back to that moment, and allow all of the sensations
that surrounded you, to resurface.
"Close
your eyes.
"Relax…
and let yourself go back.
"Go
back and relive those few seconds.
"Tell
us what you see… what you feel… what you hear."
I
really thought it was all a bit ridiculous; but I knew that she had helped
other people in the past. She was excellent at helping people retrieve their
repressed memories. She had even helped the local police a few times, in cases
where the victims were so traumatized, they simply could not remember what had
happened.
I
could not for the life of me, figure out why I had not thought to go to Aunt
Rachel in the first place. She probably would have been able to help me,
without all the drama of the past few days. Anyway, I had finally made to that
point and I was willing to do whatever it took.
Just
as I was closing my eyes, Adam placed a small tape-recorder on the table and
pushed the 'record' button. I thought it was a strange thing to do at the time,
but I am very glad that we have those recordings. I never would have remembered
what I said, otherwise; I slipped into some sort of a trance.
Over the next few days, we filled a shoebox with those little
tapes. There are hours upon hours of recordings, telling the whole story of my
life. I am not going to bore you, by trying to include all of it here; I don't
have enough time or energy to be bothered. If anyone is really that interested
in all of the details, I will let them spend countless hours listening to the
tapes.
That
said; some of the recordings are of extreme importance to the quest, which I
found myself on, as you will see.
* * * *
Aunt
Rachel repeated, "Just close your eyes and tell us what you see."
I
could not believe Adam was just going to walk away. I wanted him to get in the
truck with us. I wanted so desperately to spend that extra time with him, now
that he was able to talk with us. I wanted him to be at my side and help me
with this mystery.
He
just walked away from me. I stood there, shivering, watching him go. I was
screaming on the inside that it wasn't fair for him to leave me like that.
There
was fresh snow on the ground, the light powdery kind that blows around easily
by the slightest breeze. I was worried about Adam's feet. He did not have boots
on, just running shoes; I knew his feet would be cold.
As
the thought flashed through my mind, I was watching his feet. That was when I
noticed something very strange. The farther he went along the sidewalk, the
less his steps compacted the soft snow.
I
mean, at first, there were definite footprints in the powder, followed by very
slight impressions and then there were none at all. Adam was not walking in the
snow; he was walking on it. He was skimming across the top of the snow,
like those insects, water striders, that travel over the surface of the lake in
the summer, without ever getting wet.
Soon
there was a visible space between the bottom of Adam's feet and the glistening
crystals on the ground. He was going up… rising… levitating.
He
wasn't just leaving me; he was leaving altogether. It was too much!
Someone
else joined him, walking at his side, holding his hand. As I looked closely, I
realized that I was looking at myself. It was me walking with my
brother; I was standing there watching myself leave with Adam.
The
other me turned slightly and smiled over her shoulder. "He is coming with
me. I have waited for a long time. Soon we will all be together anyway… but I
have grown impatient. I want this one small thing, now."
At
that exact moment, the welcome clouds enveloped me and everything faded away.
The next thing I remember, I was talking to someone in the guestroom.
Twenty-five
As I
slipped into bed, beside Chris that night, wearing the silky nightgown that he
had slipped off to buy for me at the mall, I felt drained. We had kept at it
until well after midnight. There was an urgent pulse in the air, feeding our
need for answers. Somehow, I had the distinct impression that each of us had a
lot riding on the outcome of this whole thing.
So
far, many of my memories had surfaced. It had become apparent that I had never
been as alone throughout my life, as it had seemed. I now clearly remembered
some strange happenings, in my life.
I
had always had the feeling that someone was watching me other than my father. As
a child, I had imagined that it was the spirit of my mother, watching over her
beloved child from the other side. Now that I knew that she was still on this
side though, that was clearly not the case.
As
we had delved deeper into my memories, I recalled times when I had been visited.
When I was about eight years old, I woke from a sound sleep, to find an old man
sitting on the side of my bed. He told me to get up and get out of the room,
right away. I have no idea whether it was fear or trust that spurred me on; but
I jumped out of that bed and raced for the hall, as fast as I could.
Within
minutes, the ceiling above my bed collapsed. It seemed there was a squirrel's
nest in the attic, right above my bed; the weight of it was too much for the
old ceiling to hold. If I had not left that spot right when I did, I would have
been crushed under a massive jumble of ceiling plaster, leaves, twigs, and
other debris.
I
don't know who he was, where he came from or where he went, but he was one of
the many who saved my life through the years. Now that I remember more, it was
becoming very clear that I had a lot of 'spirits' or 'angels' or whatever,
watching over me.
There
had been car accidents avoided at the last minute, because a feeling came over
me that I needed to pull over, or take a different route. I had fallen out of
trees, down the stairs and off the roof, suffering nothing more than a
dislocated finger.
I
still could not remember the night that my mother tried to kill me and I was no
closer to the answer of what the amulet was or who Amy was, but I was getting a
better idea about who I was. I was Ella, and for some reason that suddenly
seemed to be important. I seemed to be important!
The
last thing Dad said to me, before we all wandered off to our beds was, "Ella,
you are on this world for a purpose. Someone in higher authority than any of us
must have big plans for you."
Even though I had no idea what he was talking about, his words
gave me a feeling of security. As tired as I was when I slipped into bed, I was
also exhilarated. The emotional roller coaster that I had been riding was soon
going to pull into the station. I just knew it. All of the answers were right
around the next bend.
Chris'
hand pressed flat against my stomach as he pulled me into his embrace. Curled
up together with him in my aunt's guest bed, I had never felt so connected to
anyone as I did then. Feeling his warm breath softly moving the hair on the
back of my head, his protective chest pressed against my spine and the rumbling
beneath his ribcage as he spoke quietly in the night, lulled me into a state of
pure relaxation
"How
are you doing, babe?"
Wriggling
ever so slightly closer to him and reaching back to stroke his hip, I answered
him in a whisper. "I am doing great, right now. I just know that we are
close, Chris, we are going to find all of the answers soon."
"And,
once we do … you and I can get on with the business of us."
Turning
onto my back and looking into his eyes, I felt a sense of puzzlement, "Us?"
"Yes,"
he smiled. "Us. As in… you and I. I want to have a life with you, Ella, I
love you, and I am sure you love me too. I want to start planning for our
future, just as soon as we get the past sorted out."
Cuddling
into him, with my cheek pressed onto his naked chest, I listened to the
rhythmic beating of his heart and knew that it was a song I wanted to listen to
for the rest of my life. "I love you too, Chris, with my whole heart. I
can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Oh by the way, thank you for
my pretty nightgown… it is so soft."
Kissing
the top of my head and holding me tighter against his chest, he whispered, "You
are very welcome, sweetheart. One night, hopefully soon, I will take my time
slipping the silky material up off your skin and thoroughly enjoy the gift that
it holds. For now, let's get some sleep. You need to recharge before facing
whatever tomorrow brings. Goodnight, my love."
I
did not fall asleep right away; instead, I laid there feeling him slip off into
slumber. His breathing slowed and deepened, his grip on me slackened and his
heart rate slowed ever so slightly.
That
moment was when I really knew what love was. It had nothing to do with passion
or orgasms, flowers or wine. It didn't even have anything to do long in-depth
conversations. It was simply two hearts beating in time and a relaxed embrace.
In
that moment, trust in each other was exposed, naked to the elements, but
neither of us held the least bit of concern for its safety.
Twenty-six
The next couple of days flew by in a flurry of questions, asked
and answered. Aunt Rachel led me into a hypnotic state, numerous more times and
we all pored through the old photo albums and books.
Had
I found out who Amy was by Friday night? Had I figured out what the amulet my
Nanny gave me was for? The answer to both questions was a resounding no.
I
had learned many things, though. I knew that Aunt Rachel's weekly visits were
more than family gatherings. She would ask me all sorts of questions, making me
stretch my mind. She would play 'games' with me that kept my muscles toned and
my mind sharp. The tests seemed to end when I reached puberty.
I
also remembered the night that my mother tried to kill me, with the help of
Aunt Rachel taking me back through the years. I remembered it with glaring
clarity, which brought tears to my eyes and shivers down my spine.
It
was a cool September evening when my six-year-old self had wandered,
bare-footed, into the spruce grove behind our house. My friends were all there
waiting for me. They circled around me as I skipped into the shady alcove, at
the center of the trees.
George,
the ten-foot-tall dinosaur stood there, with his head lowered to the ground,
awaiting my childish kiss. Clara and Carl, the couple from behind the toilet,
who liked to ride in my pockets, were playing hide and seek behind the
dandelion leaves. Oscar greeted me with his wise old 'hoot-hoot' from his perch
near the top of one of the trees. Sampson slithered across my damp toes and
wrapped himself around my ankles.
The
list goes on and on. They all gathered there to see me. They came from the
clouds and stars; they crept around the trees; they touched me, kissed me, and
moved through me, as shadows.
They
loved me and listened to every breath that escaped my lips, as though waiting
to hear some profound statement. They never brushed me aside or told me to
wait. They were always ready and willing to play any game I chose, any time. I
had tested this, by insisting that Clara and Carl join me on the roof, two
weeks earlier.
They
were the perfect size to fit in my dollhouse, so it had to go up there as well.
I stood in front of the house, bent my knees, and jumped with as much force as
my small body could muster. Landing softly on the asphalt tiles, I laughed at
the looks on Carl and Clara's faces. They had both turned slightly green and
hid deep down in my pocket as the feeling of flying upset them both.
Nevertheless, they were both ready to play.
We
had enjoyed nearly two hours up there, before my mother had discovered us.
Somehow, she always seemed to know when I was doing something that she would
not approve of. As in the past, she ranted and raved about it not being safe,
that 'normal' children did not do such things. She was always going on about
what was and was not normal, as though I were some sort of oddity.
I
could never quite figure out what her problem was. I was her child … she had
given me life. I was exactly who she had made me; I was me
because of her… wasn't I?
I
would follow her around the house, asking her why she felt that she needed to
explain to me what was normal, what was right, what was 'accepted in nice
society'. I begged her to come with me to the grove and play with my friends,
but she seemed to be afraid whenever I spoke of them. It was almost as though
she felt threatened by them.
I
couldn't understand that though; didn't every mother want their children to
have friends? Should she not be proud of me for having such a great assortment
of friends? Should she not want to get to know them, herself?
That
night, when I was in the grove, I was having a wonderful time. I was listening
to the tree, telling a wonderful tale about the worms. They were having a
difficult time with a new family of grubs that had moved in.
As
I was talking to some of the friends gathered around me, trying to find some
advice for the worms and grubs; my mother came crashing into the grove.
She
screamed when she saw all of us gathered there. An odd kind of panic came over
her as she rushed to sweep me up into her arms. She was yelling at all of my
friends, telling them to get away from me. She pushed them out of the way; she
doubled up her fist and punched George as hard as she could when he tried to
lift me up away from the action. She stepped right on Clara, pushing her down
into a wormhole recently vacated by a panicked worm.
She
screamed at me that they were monsters, that I had to stay away from them, that
they were not safe, that I was not safe when I was with them. They were yelling
right back at her. They were yelling things like, 'She is ours! No matter what
you do, you will never be able to take her from us! We will always be with her,
no matter what you do!'
I
was so scared, I had lost the ability to speak or move. My mother lifted me,
held me tight to her chest, and ran back through the trees all the way to the
house. She yelled back over her shoulder, 'I will see to it that she is beyond
your grasp! You will never be able to use her!'
She
slammed into the house, with my small body still in her arms. The force of her
shoulder hitting the doorframe caused my face to smack off her collarbone, a
small trail of blood trickled from my nose to her shirt.
Tears
were streaming down her face; she was trembling and sobbing as she filled the
bathtub, almost to the brim. She kept whispering to me that she was sorry, that
it had to end; it could not continue. As she lowered my body into the tepid
water, she kissed my brow and asked me to forgive her.
I
closed my eyes, not wanting to see such sadness, on my mother's face. Just when
I thought I could not hold my breath for another second, I heard Carl
whispering in my ear. "It's alright child, take a breath; we are here with
you, we will breathe for you, just stay calm."
Cautiously,
I opened my lips, fully expecting water to rush into my mouth. Instead, I felt
another's mouth on my own, blowing air into my lungs. I let my limbs float in
the water, staying as relaxed as possible. I only panicked for a moment, when I
heard my mother screaming again, from somewhere far off.
She
had seen the bubbles rising through the water as I exhaled the gift of breath.
I asked Carl if she knew that they were helping me. He told me that they had
made themselves invisible again; it was better that way. He thought that she
must think that I was breathing in the water like a fish in the sea.
She
was so afraid; her fear had become an unbearable physical pain for her. I could
not let her be hurt anymore. I had to do everything I could to end her
suffering. I took one last deep breath and told my friends to leave me.
I
told them that they were not allowed to interfere, anymore. I ordered them to
leave me alone, to let the world have me, to let me find my own way. I pushed
them away, just as she had done, and told them that it was time to go.
With
a collective cry, I felt them all pulling away as I opened my mouth again and
allowed the water to fill my lungs with excruciating pain. As I faded away, I
heard my father's voice coming to me from far away.
The
next thing I remember … I was in the hospital.
Many
tears have been shed listening to that particular tape recording. It was
abundantly clear to me, that my mother was trying to protect me after all. She
saw the others as a threat and to her that was the only way to keep me away
from them. She was convinced that they meant to harm me in some deep universal
way and convinced herself that death would be the lesser of the two evils.
My
poor mother. All I ever wanted was for her to love me and accept me and that
was the one thing she could not do. She had lived for all these years, still
believing that somehow I was going to be forced to do something terrible.
From
the psychiatrist's transcripts, it was clear that she felt that I would somehow
be responsible for a great worldwide change. Maybe she thought that I was going
to build a new type of bomb or something. Maybe she thought I was going to
start a cult of some sort.
I
still had no idea! But I did have a better feel for who she was, why she had
reacted the way she had and I knew that I loved her, unconditionally.
As soon as that memory came to the surface, it was as if a
floodgate opened and all the memories from before that night came flooding
through. Looking at old photographs of people, I clearly remembered telling
them when and how they would die.
I
remembered telling my uncle that he was only going to see his daughter from far
away. Three days before my cousin, Sue, was born, a drunk-driver killed Uncle
Archie. Aunt Rachel always said that her daddy was watching over her from
heaven. That was about as far away as one can get.
I
remembered telling old Mr. Simmons that he would have a fall that would change
his life, for the better. He met his wife after he slipped on the ice and she
was the nurse who tended to his broken hip.
When
I was four or five, I insisted that my father bring the crops in from the
fields a full two weeks earlier than usual. For some reason he listened to me.
We had a very early winter that year, most farms in the area lost their crops
to the extremely hard frost.
My
mind raced with memories from a lifetime. I had given advice to fellow
classmates that ended up setting them on worthwhile paths, when they listened.
I always knew when Nanny was having a hard time with her breathing or arthritis
before she ever complained about it. When Sue got pregnant, I knew she was
having a boy before she had even taken a pregnancy test.
I
had to find out why I was the way I was. I had to find out why I could not
remember any of it, until that moment.
Twenty-seven
It was
close to
"You
are the one who came to the house to test me. You are the one who knew what
this was all about, more than anyone else. You are the one who has to help me
with this."
I
carefully pulled the chain free from the amulet and let it fall to the floor.
Closing my shaking fingers around the warm disk, I looked around the room at
the faces of those I loved the most in this world. "I don't know what is
going to happen, but I do know that it is now or never. Please, promise that
you will all stay with me, no matter what."
They
all moved to sit close around me. One by one, starting with my father, they
held their hands out in front of me, palms up. Overlapping their fingers, they
formed a sort of living tabletop. I slid my own hand into place on the top and
slowly opened my fingers, exposing the amulet.
Taking
a deep breath, closing my eyes and whispering that I loved everyone there, I
asked Rachel to tell me what to do.
"Just
concentrate on the warmth, Ella. The warmth you feel from us, and the warmth
from the amulet. That warmth is important, let it flow through you, let it fill
you and flow out to encircle all of us. Do not be afraid of it, you can let it
take you with it, you can trust that warmth, Ella, it holds nothing evil for
you."
With
some initial difficulty, I did my best to follow her instructions. I felt the
warmth of the amulet where it lay on my hand. It washed over my palm, along my
fingers to flow between them onto the hands joined below mine. It traveled up
my arm filling my whole being and radiating from me to everyone gathered there.
I could feel it pulsating, almost as though it were breathing. The rhythmic
pulses caused all of us to rock slightly, back and forth.
It
was an unbelievably comforting feeling. For some reason, the thought came to me
that this was what it felt like to be an unborn child, held lovingly within her
mother's womb. Sounds came to my ears that I can only describe as the rushing
of blood through massive arteries. An immense sensation of un-abiding love and
peace surrounded me.
A
soft stirring fluttered across my hand as I felt the amulet lifting. I forced
my eyelids open. The five of us were no longer sitting on Aunt Rachel's living
room floor; instead, we hung there, suspended within some sort of milky
substance. Even though it was flowing all around us, it had no effect on any of
us. I knew that it was some sort of liquid, but none of us was in the least bit
damp.
Aunt
Rachel, Chris, Adam, and Dad were all rocking slowly in and out of the circle,
with their eyes closed. They all chanted something so softly it was barely
audible. I could not understand what they said; they were all speaking in some
unknown language.
A
kaleidoscope of colors swirled through the substance around us, momentarily
coming together to form breathtaking scenes before dissolving and flowing away
to re-form another scene somewhere else.
Among
many other wonderful things, I saw the Red Sea, parting and then flowing back
together before washing over my head to form The Great Pyramids. They dissolved
and rushed down to become The Grand Canyon. Swirling above me, they flattened
out and the smooth surface of the Sahara Desert drifted past me to liquefy and
become an ocean filled with killer whales, spiking and singing their haunting
calls.
My
eyes fell again to the amulet, which was now spinning on end just above my
fingertips, so fast that it now appeared to be an orb, rather than a flat disk.
As I watched, a silver fog formed around it, expanding to enclose all of us. It
grew until it engulfed everything within its cool, glistening mist.
The
colors were gone, lost within the mist. Nothing existed except the five of us
and the mist. All of the wondrous sounds were swallowed up by the deafening
silence and I felt a tragic sense of loss.
Directly
in front of me, behind my father and Aunt Rachel, the mist began to swirl. It
appeared to be thinning in that one small area, as though a breeze had come to
blow it away. A shape slowly took form within the swirling mists, the shape of
a woman.
As she stepped from the mist, it parted as a veil before her.
Where it caught upon the tips of her wavy chestnut hair, it glistened like tiny
diamonds. There was something oh-so-familiar about her.
She held her head just slightly lowered, so that she seemed to
look out at the world through her lashes. The set of her shoulders gave the
impression of self-confidence and an ingrained ability to take life on with a
single flutter of her lashes.
She
walked, more like glided actually, softly placing her toes on the ground first,
instead of coming down on her heel as most people do.
As I sat there, in stunned silence watching her intently, she
gathered up the soft folds of her silver gown, held it out with slender fingers,
and slowly twirled, as a child showing off a new outfit would do. Coming to
stop again before me, she lifted her beautiful hazel eyes to fix me with her
gaze …
I
saw a universe held within her dancing eyes. I saw myself, deep within her soul.
The me I wished to be; free, happy, confident, and unconfused.
Leaving
the amulet spinning in the circle of love created by my family, I stood and
slowly made my way over to her. Holding out my left hand to her, existing for
that moment, only to feel her touch, I knew that was the moment I lived my
whole life for.
Twenty-eight
I knew
her. With every fiber of my being, I knew her. She had been right there at my side,
sharing every moment, every breath, every achievement or disappointment. The
knowledge of her washed over me, filling every nook and cranny of my soul.
"Amy,"
I breathed. "Where have you been?"
A
soft smile moved across her lips as she looked at our hands, clasped together,
fitting in each other perfectly.
"I
have always been right here, Ella. You know that now. We have been together,
since before time," her soft whisper washed over me, gently caressing my
skin, threading through my hair, to hold me, lovingly.
"I
do remember holding you as we floated in the dark liquid. You and I were as
one, long before I knew anyone else, but you went away. I couldn't hear you
anymore. I could still feel your hand in mine, but I couldn't feel you
anymore. You left me alone, there in the dark. Why, Amy? Who are you? What does
this all mean? Why do I suddenly have all these stark memories when I haven't
been able to remember any of it for so long?"
"Oh, Ella, I am you and you are me. We are two halves of
the same whole. I am your twin, Ella. We began the journey together, both of us
intricate clusters of cells and electricity, multiplying and growing, one
beside the other.
"We
were meant to walk through this life, side by side, but something went wrong.
Somehow, the decision was changed. You grew stronger and as you did, I grew
weaker. I could no longer hold onto the amulet with you, I could no longer
absorb its power.
"I
could not hold onto you either, but you never let go of me. As I left the
earth-bound casing, I begged you to just open your fingers and let me drift
away, but you refused. You said that if you let go, you would be lost too.
"You
held so tight, Ella. You held on to that empty case, right until you burst into
the world. As you were born, you pulled the black, shriveled body into the
world with you.
"Those
attending the miracle of your arrival were so deeply affected by that sight,
some of them never fully recovered. It never should have happened that way. If
you could have had a different beginning, you would have had a different life.
The fear that was instantly deep-seated in them, never known.
"You
would have been allowed to grow and flourish, just the way it was planned. You
would have allowed the knowledge to flow through you, because our mother would
never have been made afraid of you. Instead, at the moment of your birth, she
was filled with the knowledge of your purpose. She saw it as a threat and soon
made the decision that she had to stop you.
"I
was with you in the woods that night, when she found you. I was with you, as
she raced to the house and filled the tub. It was my breath that filled your
lungs as the water surrounded you. It was I that convinced the others to leave
you, when you chose the love of your mother, over your own life.
"It
was I that slipped into your mind and put the block in place. I blocked all
your memories of the others and your purpose. You wanted to live your life, you
wanted to love and know love. You wanted to be like everyone else. I did my
best to give you that.
"Many
times, over the years I have had to close your ears to them. They have tried to
make you hear them. I have always stopped them, so that you could have your
life and be protected from the world.
"I
have seen great cruelties in the world, Ella. If the others had their way, you
would have been at the mercy of those who would wish to harm you. I could not,
would not, allow that to happen."
I was still so confused. Nothing was making any sense. It
seemed the more answers I got, the more questions I had. "Why now, Amy?
You say that you have been protecting me my whole life, so why am I learning
about everything now? And why did Adam spend his entire life remembering
tomorrow's date? What is the big deal about tomorrow? I am still so confused
about everything."
She
gave me a look that spoke of patience, mixed with anxiety. "Tomorrow is
the day of the rejoining, Ella. It is the day when all shall be revealed. We
have come together, so that you can receive a message. You have worked very
hard to find your way here and the journey has almost reached its end. Now, you
will need guidance to follow it through to completion.
"Within
the pages of the oldest book, upon her highest shelf, you will find your way.
You know what is asked of you, Ella, just trust yourself to do what is right."
The
mist began to close in around her as she spoke. "NO! Amy, don't go,
please, there is so much more that I need to know!"
Her voice came once more, from the mist. "Three-thirteen is when they'll
be seen! Until then my sweet, sweet, Ella."
And
she was gone...
Twenty-nine
Finding
myself once again sitting in the middle of Aunt Rachel's living room floor came
as a bit of a shock. Looking round at my family, I saw tears glistening on each
face. They all still had their eyes closed and Aunt Rachel was still humming
softly as they continued to rock.
The
amulet was once again lying motionless in my palm. As I closed my fingers
around it, Adam closed his fingers around my hand. I looked to him, sitting
there so quietly beside me. "Did you find her, Ella?" he whispered. "Did
you find Amy?"
"Yes," I forced past the lump in my throat. "Did
you know about her all along, Adam?"
A sly smile lit his face. "No, Ella. I
just found out about everything. While we were sitting here, I went away. I
went to a place filled with white light; Nanny was there. She was baking her
famous apple pies, hundreds of them, Ella! She was surrounded with them.
"She
told me about you being born with a twin that never came home to play with us.
She told me that you are special, for more than just what we see now.
"You
are one of the chosen few and the others will meet you today. She told me to
help you. She made me promise that I would. She sent a message for you, too.
"She
said that Aunt Rachel is hiding the paper. She put it in the book with the
others and it is time for you to get it back. I have no idea what that means, but
there you go. It is another part of the puzzle, left for you to figure out."
Tears
filled my eyes, spilling over my lower lids and tracing down my face in tiny
rivers. "I wish I could have seen her, Adam. I would truly love to sit at
her kitchen table, eating one of her pies again. We had so many wonderful talks
over a slice of warm pie. Her pies could fix most any problem, I really miss
that!"
He
reached out to brush a tear from my cheek and I fell into his arms, sobbing on
his shoulder. "I don't even think Nanny's pies could tackle what's going
right now, Ella," he whispered into my hair.
"I
know, but I am not strong enough for this, Adam. I don't know what I am
supposed to do, and I am so scared."
From
within his crushing embrace, I watched over his shoulder as Aunt Rachel made
her way to the bookcase against the far wall. My father carried a small set of
steps over to her; he must have left the room to get it, without my even
noticing.
Aunt
Rachel looked over to me once, before she stepped up to reach the top shelf.
Running her fingertips down the spine of one of the books, she began to
tremble. It was almost as though she were afraid of what we would find held in
the pages of that book.
When
she looked down to Dad, he laid his hand on her waist. "I know, Rachel. It'll
be all right, you have no choice."
With
a deep steadying breath, she grasped the top of the book and pulled it from its
spot on the topmost shelf. Climbing down from the steps, she turned, hugging
the book to her breast, gently stroking its cover as she came to sit by me
again.
With
a sweep of their arms, Dad and Chris cleared the surface of the coffee table.
Books, papers and albums tumbled to the floor. Aunt Rachel placed the big book
in the center of the table, keeping her hands pressed flat on the top of it.
"Before
we open these pages," her voice cracked with the emotions she was clearly
struggling with. "I want to make sure you all understand that I did not
hide this by choice. This was put into my possession, under the oath that I would
protect it from the world at large, until it was deemed necessary to have it
known.
"Just
now, we all experienced different things. From what I heard, Ella met her twin
sister and Adam met with Nanny. Chris and Arthur, you probably both went
somewhere as well, to learn an important lesson. I personally went back to the
moment this book came to me.
"I
have never felt fear because of this, or because of anything involved with it.
Back then, I was told what had to be done and how to do it. I was told that the
book had to remain a secret, until this day.
"Today,
the others have released me from my oath of secrecy; they say that you need to
know everything, Ella. This book belongs to you."
Gingerly
touching the tip of my finger to the edge of the large black book, I looked at
my aunt. "What is it, Aunt Rachel? It looks like a Bible."
"Oh
my dear, it is much older than the Bible," she breathed. "'Man' wrote
the Bible. While I am sure that they did their level best to record the events
of the time, with as much accuracy as they could, there were bound to be some
mistakes.
"It
is after all, an interpretation of events that we read in the pages of the
Bible. In addition, it has been re-written and translated so many times, who
knows how many errors are held within its pages.
"This
book came long before the Bible. This holds the history for millions of years,
not simply thousands. This is the history of so much more than humankind, it is
the complete history. Within these pages, there are answers to every question
ever asked, as well as some questions that no one ever thought to ask.
"Between
the pages of this book, is also where I hid your birth certificate. Oh, I know
you have one in your wallet, but it is a fake. I have the original, the one
that holds your true name as well as that of your sister."
My
true name?
Thirty
There it
sat; the original copy of my certificate of live birth. I had never seen one
that looked quite like it, six inches by approximately twelve. It was truly the
strangest looking document I had ever seen. It was hand-written, bearing the
signature of the attending physician as well as that of the mid-wife.
Everything looked the same as the certificate
I had, the date and time matched mine, as did the location of birth. The only
thing different was the 'name of child'. While mine stated my birth name was
Ella Marie Marshall, this other one had it as
ELUNA
OYET ANOOR Marshall.
"Eluna
Oyet Anoor? What kind of name is that supposed to be?" I exclaimed,
looking at my father. He had been sitting very still, with his head lowered
since helping Rachel get the book. When he heard my exclamation, he raised his
face to look at me through watery eyes.
"It
is the name that was chosen for you, many years ago. Your mother changed it to
Ella, after you were born. She felt that Ella was a much easier name for you to
live with. She always referred to the two of you as Ella and Amy. It was her
that you heard speaking of Amy, as a child. She was certain that she kept
seeing her."
Looking
again to the page in my hand, I found a scribbled note in the corner, which I
had not noticed before.
'Name
of un-baptized stillborn twin – ZANDEMY MISHEROL Marshall'
"Zandemy?
Amy?" I watched as Dad nodded his head, ever so slightly. "Zandemy
and Eluna. Oh my God!"
I
opened my hand to look once more at the amulet. "The amulet – 'Z' and 'E'
– Zandemy and Eluna. The amulet had our initials on it. I was born with this;
Amy and I held it before we were born, our names were marked on it, before we
even drew breath!"
Dropping
the amulet to the table, as if it had burned me, I jumped to my feet.
"Aunt
Rachel, please help me. I am really getting scared. What does this all mean?"
I was feeling overwhelmed by all the new information that I was trying so hard
to process all at once.
Aunt
Rachel came to stand with me, "Try to stay strong, my dear. None of us
have all the answers that you are looking for, but today is the day that the
questions will all be answered. That much I do know."
Moving
back to the table, she motioned me over, "Now come and sit. We have more
to do."
As
I lowered myself once more onto the pile of cushions, Chris ran his hand down
my arm with such tenderness; my heart skipped a beat. "Don't be afraid,
Ella. Together, we are going to figure this all out," he softly assured
me.
Opening
the big book again, Aunt Rachel pulled another piece of paper from between its
pages.
"I
believe this is what Amy told you to find." She passed the page to me.
I
was quite nervous to look at what was marked on this one. I sat for a few
minutes, with my hand pressed flat on top of it on the table. When I felt that
I had steadied my nerves enough, I unfolded the single sheet of paper. It was
brittle at the edges, sort of brown and crumbly, so I was very careful with it.
The
sight of the blank page came as more of a shock than if it had been filled top
to bottom, with some absurd message. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes
and my throat was burning. For some unknown reason, I continued to stare at the
page, tears falling freely to land on the parchment.
I
really wasn't seeing the paper at all; my mind had flown away as soon as I
opened it. I was with Amy again. We were standing facing each other, in the
middle of a field of yellow wildflowers. Suddenly, she pulled her hands free of
mine and turned to run. She yelled back to me, 'Find me if you can…'
At
the same time, I heard Chris telling me to look again. I wanted to chase after
Amy, I wanted to find her, but I wanted to know what Chris wanted me to look at
too. I had to make an agonizing decision; I turned my back on my sister and
looked towards Chris.
"Look
at what, Chris?"
"At
the page, Ella, look at the spots where your tears fell on it."
Looking
down I was amazed to see that letters had appeared in the moisture from my
tears. I nervously accepted the glass of water that Adam was holding out to me.
Dipping my fingertips into the cool liquid, I let it drop onto the paper.
In
no time at all, I was able to see a message. It simply appeared and flowed
together as the moisture filled the page. The script was beautiful; it reminded
me of calligraphy, with its flowing lines and curlicues.
Before
reading the message, I looked to Chris. His simple smile filled me with the
encouragement, I so dearly needed.
This
is what the message read:
Blessed
child of our soul;
The time has come for man to know.
The day is here for life to show.
Wait for us there at thirteen with three.
The time has come for all to see.
The
vault of knowledge within a circle been squared.
Wait for us there, with all who are
prepared.
"Okay
… I am open to suggestions. Does anyone have any idea what this is supposed to
mean?"
Adam
and Chris were each looking over my shoulders. Aunt Rachel had grabbed a piece
of paper and was busily copying the message down. She said that it was in case
the letter disappeared again, as the moisture evaporated. Which is in fact,
precisely what happened. Dad was pacing up and down, the other end of the room.
The
mounting tension in the room was nearly unbearable; it was almost as if there
was an electric charge flowing between all of us. Suddenly, Dad stopped dead in
his tracks and turned to me. "Pull it apart! Dissect it! Figure out what
each line means and then put it back together. We have to get to the bottom of
this, and it seems we only have today to do that!"
His face was ashen, he was trembling, and I was afraid that
this was all too much for him. I found myself at his side, gently turning him
to face me. I took his face in my hands and examined the intricate map of lines
there. Wondering once again, when he had gotten so old, I pressed my lips to
his cheek.
"Thank
you, Daddy," I whispered. "Thank you for saying we and thank
you for being so strong."
Turning
back to the rest of them and taking a deep, somewhat shaky breath. "Let's
get this over with. We all have a lot of life left to live, and I think it is
going to be a lot better from here on out!"
Thirty-one
The five
of us sat huddled around the coffee table as the sun began its assent into the
early morning sky. We read the message out loud so many times, all of us had it
memorized … etched permanently into our brains.
It
did not take us long to agree that 'thirteen with three' had to mean 3:13 o'clock.
After all, the word time appeared twice in the rather short message. We
already knew that today was the day for something big, now we had an actual
time. All we had left to figure out was the place that it, whatever it
was, was going to happen.
"A vault of knowledge. That could be damn near anything.
And… what the hell is a circle that's been squared?"
Chris
was getting extremely frustrated. He threw the volume of the encyclopedia,
which he had been searching through, to the floor. Running his hands through
his hair agitatedly, he stomped into the kitchen.
I
had never seen him like that before and it frightened me a little. He was the
one that always seemed to have everything in control. If he was losing it,
maybe this whole thing was too big for any of us to handle.
Folding
my hands in my lap, I lowered my head and closed my eyes. Please, please. I
have to figure this out. There has to be an answer to this riddle out there.
Please let us find it, before it's too late.
Chris
was suddenly back in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame, chuckling.
Holding one of Aunt Rachel's new glasses with the tips of his fingers, he stood
there swirling the water around and softly chuckling. I thought he had lost his
mind. I was scared for him and for the rest of us.
Dad
must have felt the same way; he was at my side almost instantly. "Chris?
What has gotten into you, son? Rachel, you don't have any vodka hidden away in
there, do you?"
Pushing
away from the doorframe, Chris' expression turned serious again. "Shit, I'm
sorry. I didn't mean to scare anyone. I am not drunk or insane. At least I don't
think I am. I thought of something, it just sort of came to me in the kitchen.
We have all been looking too hard, trying to find the answer, out there in the
world. It has been right in front of our noses, all along!"
"What
the hell, are you talking about? How have we been 'trying too hard'?" Now
it was Adam who seemed to be losing control. "What an absolutely
ridiculous thing to say. Maybe you don't get just how important this whole
thing is because you are not family!"
"Adam,
he IS family!" I jumped to Chris' defense. "What exactly do you think
it is, that makes a certain group of people a family? Do you really think it's
just random strands of
"Love
is what makes a family, Adam. Love, commitment, and true concern for the other
members of the group. If Chris hasn't proved that he is a member of this
family, in these past few days, then I have no idea what it would take to prove
it to you.
"Just
believe me when I say that this dear, sweet man is definitely an important part
of my family. I know that I can lay all of my hopes and dreams at his
feet and they will never be trampled. He loves me, Adam. Perhaps more than
anyone ever has.
"He
trusts me, he believes in me. He has never let me down, turned his back on me,
or run away from me. More importantly, I trust him, implicitly. If he says that
he has figured something out, then I know that he has. I know that, as clearly
as I know that as long as my heart beats and I draw breath … I am alive."
I
was trembling. I didn't know whether it was from emotion, exhaustion, fear or
the freedom I felt, from actually having been able to finally put my feelings
into words. All I know for sure is that when Chris gathered me into his arms, I
knew that I was home.
He
held me until the trembling passed. No one spoke. I am not even sure if any of
them even breathed. It was as though time had come to a stand still, waiting
for me to be ready for the next heartbeat.
As
soon as I got myself back under control, I looked into Chris' loving eyes and
whispered, "I just want all of this to be done, so you and I can have the
rest of our lives."
Gently
brushing a stray hair from my forehead, he lowered his lips to my ear. "I
plan to use the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you. I have
spent enough time trying to live the life the rest of the world seems to think
I should. I want to live the life I want. What I want, is to wake up beside you
every morning, for the rest of my life. I love you, Ella."
"Dr.
McLean," Dad spoke up. "Are you trying to ask my daughter something
here? Or, are we all imagining things?"
"Mr. Marshall, I had planned to wait, until all of this
was over, but… it appears that I am not the patient man that I thought I was. I
love your daughter, with all my heart. I am willing to fight at her side or in
her defense, to get her safely through whatever it is we are about to face. I
vow my life to her, I vow to always protect and support her.
"So,
if she will have me… I would be honored if she would consent to becoming my
wife, my partner, my reason to wake up in the morning."
I
could not take my eyes off his face. He had said the last part, looking deeply
into my eyes, melting my heart and taking my breath away. I could not believe
he really truly wanted me, as much as I wanted him. Perhaps dreams could come
true… if you were willing to wait for them.
"Is
this really the right time for this?" Adam piped up.
"There
has never been a time so right," Aunt Rachel breathed, in answer.
"Ella,"
my father coaxed. "Chris is waiting for an answer."
I
could not seem to find my voice, so I simply nodded my head as my cheeks burned
and my eyes swam.
Chris
swept me up in his arms and spun me around, before kissing my moist lips. The
idea that I was kissing the man who would be my husband, sent shockwaves of
emotion through me. I knew, right at that moment, that when we were in our
eighties or nineties we would still light a fire in each other.
Before
I was ready to let him go, Aunt Rachel was pulling me from Chris' embrace. She
held me, kissing my cheek, as Dad shook Chris' hand and patted him on the back.
Even Adam was hugging us, congratulating us. I am positive that it was the
happiest moment I had experienced thus far, in my life.
"I
really do hate to be a party-pooper, but…" Aunt Rachel gently brought us
all back to the problem at hand. "Chris, you said that you had figured
something out."
"Yes
Rachel, you're right. We need to get this situation out of the way, and then we
have a lot of celebrating to do!" Chris placed one more quick kiss on my
smiling lips before taking his place again, around the table.
"I
do believe that I have figured out the rest of the message."
Thirty-two
"We
have been scouring through the encyclopedias and atlases, trying to find some
sort of natural anomaly. Something, somewhere that could explain that 'circle
been squared' part of the message. We have been trying to figure out what a 'vault
of knowledge' is at the same time."
"Damn
it, Chris," Adam was showing his impatience, again. "We are all right
here, in the same room, buddy. Doing exactly the same thing as you. Do you
really think you are telling any of us something that we don't already know?"
"That
is what I am trying to say, Adam. We have been coming at this the wrong way. We
are all looking too far afield. We are all stuck with the thought that this is
some sort of huge mystery."
Chris
carefully lifted the big book, along with the other assorted papers from the
table and placed them on the floor. He replaced them with the glass that he had
been drinking from.
"Tell
me what you see," he said, to no one in particular.
"I
see one of my new glasses."
"A
glass of water."
"Your
drink."
They
all answered at once. I did not say anything; I just stared at the glass,
sitting there in the middle of the table. It was a very stylish glass, although
I really didn't like using those. I preferred the old ones. The new ones felt
wrong in my hand; I liked the smoothness of the old ones.
I
felt very much like that glass right then. It was strong enough to hold its
contents, unable to be crushed with the bare hand and yet at the same time, so
very fragile.
Chris
snatched the glass of water up and swallowed the last of the water. Placing a
slip of paper in the center of the table, he placed the glass on it, this time
upside down. Lifting the glass from the page, revealing the wet ring left
there, Chris repeated, "Tell me what you see now!"
"A
wet ring that is going to seep through onto my table," Aunt Rachel stated.
"A
circle," my dad offered.
"No,
it's not a circle!" Adam exclaimed. "Look closer, it's an octagon."
I
nearly jumped out of my skin when Chris clapped his hands. "Exactly! A
circle that has been squared! Right there in front of our noses, I can't
believe we didn't see it before this."
Now
Adam was getting excited as well. "The writing in that book looks like
ancient hieroglyphics, like the ones in the pyramids. Maybe there is an octagon
shaped room inside one of those pyramids."
I
had moved to stand at the window. My eyes were drawn to the view, as if they
were working independently of my brain. I heard the rest of them babbling on
about pyramids and new discoveries, pages of reference books making soft
swishing sounds, as they searched for the elusive octagon.
As
I stood there, supporting myself against the windowsill, a little dog in the
yard across the street looked directly at me and let loose with a barrage of high-pitched
yelps. Squinting my eyes slightly, I watched as the pup disappeared. He just
kind of dissolved, leaving a white spot in his place.
That
spot grew, until it had taken in the whole yard, followed closely by the house.
It became a tunnel, moving away from me, but carrying my vision with it.
Lengthening, stretching across town, the tunnel dissolved everything that it
met.
Houses, stores, yards, fields, and trees all disappeared in its
path as it gained momentum. With amazing speed and clarity, it carried me to
the other side of town, to stop with breath-taking abruptness at the foundation
of the largest building.
"You
are all still looking too far," I heard myself whisper.
"What
was that, Ella?" one of them asked.
I
blinked, and the tunnel collapsed upon itself, restoring everything, including
the pup, to its rightful place. I half turned back to the room. "You are
all still looking too far."
Aunt
Rachel joined me at the window, softly placing her hand over mine, still on the
windowsill. "Do you know where we should be looking, Ella?"
With
one more slow glance out the window, I resolved myself to what I knew now was
about to happen. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and looked into my
loving aunt's concerned face. "Yes, I know."
I
turned again to stare out at the puppy, playing in the snow across the road,
enjoying his innocent excitement at the taste and feel of something so simple.
I watched him as I spoke.
"We
have all been searching for some sort of mysterious, locked vault. We have been
looking for something that contains ancient secrets from thousands of years
ago, an undiscovered archaeological wonder. We all wanted it to be something
huge like that, but it is not what the message meant.
"They
knew that I would not be able to scour the earth, in search of this place. They
knew that they had to make the place easily accessible, someplace that I could
get to, by the allotted time."
Smiling
again at the puppy's antics, I turned and walked to the bookcase. As I ran my
fingers across the spines of the books upon its shelves, I felt an energy
coming from them. It was as if each of the authors of the volumes were there to
help me.
"These…
are the knowledge. I don't mean just these particular books, I mean all books.
Every book ever written holds some sort of knowledge, whether it is a child's
first reader or a massive medical encyclopedia. Books are knowledge! You can
learn everything you could ever need to know, from a book.
"With
that in mind, it follows that a vault of knowledge would be a library. A place
where numerous books of every type are held for safekeeping. Therefore, what we
are looking for is a library, built in the shape of an octagon.
"I
still remember the uproar, when the plans were approved. It was stipulated by
the town council, that one room was not to be touched or changed in any way.
You were not here for it, Chris, but the rest of you should remember.
"The
town needed a new building for the high school. The land on which it stands on now
was donated by the descendents of one of the original settlers. Once there was
a magnificent home there, with wonderful octagonal-shaped rooms at each corner.
Over the years, most of the structure deteriorated, all except the one corner
room.
"Everyone
in town has a story to tell about that room. Some say that it was haunted, some
say it was magic. It was always an attraction to the young lovers. Many couples
shared a kiss there… or more. Too many couples to count pledged their love to
each other within its shadows.
"Most
of the runaways from town were eventually found, safely sheltered within its
walls. That was always a special room, so when the new high school went up, it
was incorporated into the building. It had been built as a library when it was
a part of the house and now… it is the high school library.
"It
is the 'vault of knowledge within the circle been squared' and I have to be
there at thirteen minutes past three, this afternoon."
Thirty-three
We had
been living on soup and sandwiches for days. I was desperate for a slice of
pizza and I desperately needed to get out of that house for a while. Dad, Adam
and Rachel were not very impressed when I told them that Chris and I were
heading out to grab a bite to eat.
They
all wanted me to stay there and go over everything again. I knew that they were
scared and wanted me to spend as much time as possible with them, preparing for
that afternoon. I knew that Dad was feeling very guilty for not allowing me to
just be the person I could have been.
Aunt
Rachel wanted me to try to read the book again, even though the symbols it held
meant nothing to me. Adam was acting jealous of Chris. I am sure that he felt
that it should be him that was taking me out for pizza.
Too
bad!
I
wanted and needed to be alone with Chris, even if it was just for a few
minutes.
* * * *
Sitting
beside each other in a back booth of the pizza parlor, I felt protected, hidden
away from the rest of the world. As I waited for my slice of pizza to be cool
enough to eat, I ran my hand along the length of Chris' thigh. As my fingers
stroked across the denim, stretched tautly over his hard muscled leg, I longed
to be touching his skin instead.
With
his arm draped across the back of the bench-seat, Chris' fingertips traced
small circles on my shoulder. It was such a simple, unconscious act; one that
happened everyday, all over the world, but it awoke an army of butterflies in
my stomach.
I
wanted to shout from the rooftops that Chris and I loved each other and were
about to be married! I wanted to walk in the rain with him, sharing the same
umbrella, but not really noticing the puddles. I wanted to lie beside him on
the sweet smelling grass and gaze up at the summer sky, filled with stars. I
wanted to wake with the sunrise, to find him watching me.
I wanted a lifetime of memories, a lifetime of
his kisses, his love, and his touches. I wanted it all and I was determined
that we would have it all. If we could just get through the rest of that day.
"Your
pizza is getting cold, darlin'." Chris broke into my reverie.
Picking
it up, I asked, "What time is it?"
"It's
almost two. Don't worry, you still have time to enjoy your pizza."
Swallowing
the wonderfully greasy mixture of cheese, pepperoni, and tomato sauce, I wiped
my mouth with the paper napkin and turned to him. "I would rather be
enjoying something else."
"If
you are trying to say what I think you are… me too. Unfortunately my sweet, we
have some unfinished business to take care of first."
With
my head resting on his shoulder, my hand found his denim-encased upper-thigh
again, "I know."
Holding
me securely against him, he lovingly kissed the top of my head, breathing in
the fruity scent of my shampoo. "I don't want to push you, but… do you
know what it is that is going to happen today? Do you have any idea what this
is all actually about?"
"I
am pretty sure I do. It's just a feeling, really, but I somehow know that I
must not discuss it… especially with you." I sat straight to be able to
look directly in his eyes, "Please don't be upset by that… I love you,
more than I can say. I would give anything to be able to just walk away from
all of this, right now and simply disappear into the sunset with you. My life
had no meaning until I met you, until I found out that you loved me, now it is
as if I am starting a whole new life, with you by my side."
Slowly
caressing his face, I pleaded with my eyes for him to trust me. "There
will be things today that you may not understand, things may happen that will
frighten you, but I need you to trust me. Believe in my love for you. Know with
absolute certainty that my love for you is true. Hold onto that; believe it
with every ounce of your being. Believe in me, Chris, that's all I ask. Can you
promise me that?"
He
had been so quiet, so still, I was almost afraid that he had lost his nerve. I
half expected him to bolt for the door, so sure was I that my words had been
too much for him. I sat there watching, for what seemed an eternity. As I
watched, every emotion from fear to unbelievable joy crossed his face.
When
I thought that I could not stand one more moment of anticipation, he leaned
into me and warmed my lips with his own. His hand snaked around the back of my
neck, pressing me to him, deepening the kiss with an unexpected urgency. My own
heartbeat thrummed so loudly in my ears, I was certain it echoed throughout the
restaurant.
I
realized that I had been holding my breath, every muscle in my body had been
tensed, nerves stretched to near breaking point. The feeling of his arms around
me, his hand on the back of my neck, his mouth and tongue speaking to my soul,
all worked together to release me. I returned his urgency with my own, at the
same time, melting into his embrace.
"I
love you." His words washed over me, cleansing me of any last lingering
doubts I may have been holding onto. I knew, with all certainty, that we would
be fine. As long as we could hold on to that love, nothing could harm us. Not
even, them.
Thirty-four
It was
Adam
was standing beside me, shivering, with Dad on the other side of him. Aunt
Rachel had her feet firmly planted on the far side of Chris. It was as if we were
preparing ourselves for a fight. All that was missing were the side arms and we
could have been a part of the showdown at O-K Corral.
Adam was the one who broke the silent anticipation, on a sigh, "Well,
what happens now? Are we supposed to just stand out here in the snow, freezing
our arses off? Or, is someone gonna make a move?"
I
tentatively reached out to take his hand in my own, "It's okay, Adam. Just
give me a second to gather my nerve. Try to hold yourself together; I need you
to be strong for me.
"You
and Dad, Aunt Rachel and Chris are my anchors; my life-lines. I need to know
that you are here to love and support me… no matter what happens.
"All
I need from you--all of you--is your love and positive thoughts. I do not know
how, but I know that your love is what will get me through this day. And… I
need you to promise to try to not interfere, no matter what happens, no matter
how much you think you should help. This is for me to take care of, it is up to
me to see this through to the end. Can you all promise that?"
"Ella,
you sound like you know what is going to happen here today," Dad's voice
was a mixture of shock and concern.
Stepping
around Adam, I hugged my father, pressing my cheek into his snowy shoulder. "I
have a pretty good idea, Dad. Just trust me, okay?"
"Of
course."
A
clanking sound behind me drew my attention. Spinning around, I was shocked to
find the source of the noise. Mr. Davidson, the ancient school janitor, had
thrown the door open, causing the locking chain to rattle against the metal of
the green door.
"What
y'all doin' here?" he called out to us. "There ain't nobody here
sides me!"
I
slowly made my way along the walk, to stand before him with my hand on the
door. The world seemed to come to a standstill. The only sound came from the
snow crunching and squeaking under my boots. The oppressive stillness was made
even clearer when Mr. Davidson looked to the sky, no birds or breeze visible.
"Hi
Mr. Davidson!" I laid the charm on. "I just need to check something
in the library, real quick."
"NO WAY! I ain't allowed to let nobody in here, less they's
a teacher. Got too much trouble already with them young uns. Now I has to put
up with you's adults comin' round here, too?"
"But,
Mr. Davidson, I promise that I won't cause any trouble for you…" I tried
to reason with him.
"I
already done give you my answer! Now git yer hand offa my door, I have work to
do."
He
tried to pull the door closed, but I kept my grip on it, forcing him to pull it
towards him with both hands. He was surprisingly strong, for an old man.
"Ella,"
Aunt Rachel spoke from just behind me, "It's ten past three dear. You are
nearly out of time."
Yanking
the door fully open, pulling it from the old man's grip, I tried one more time
to make him see sense. "Mr. Davidson, I really have to get into the
library."
"You'll
have to go through me then, missy."
I
could feel the panic starting to build in me. I had to get to the library as
quickly as I could, and this greasy little man was barring my way. The feeling
suddenly came over me that he was nothing more than an irritating insect,
something to crush and forget.
I
raised my hand to his cheek, instead of slapping him sharply, part of my
brain screamed for me to do just that, I simply held my hand there.
"Mr.
Davidson, you will get out of my way, now. I have business to take of in the
library and you will not try to stop me again."
My
hand slid down his cheek, as he sidestepped into the snow just outside the
school. As I stepped into the warmth of the building, I heard the sounds of a
scuffle behind me. Mr. Davidson had tried to re-affirm his objection as soon as
my fingertips lost contact with his crepe-paper skin. He lunged forward and
tried to grab me. In a lightening fast move, both Chris and Adam had tackled
him to the ground.
I
turned briefly to see Aunt Rachel stepping over the jumble of humanity, joining
me in the hallway. "Come on, Ella, you have about a minute left. Let's go!"
she nearly screamed as she turned me on my heel.
I
found out later that under my father's direction, Chris and Adam had bound Mr.
Davidson with an extension cord from his janitor cart and left him in the
utility shed. I felt bad that it had to go down that way, but at the same time,
I am sure that it was the best thing to do. After all, it kept him relatively
safe and ensured that he would not be able to contact anyone to disturb us.
I
ran as fast as I could through the halls of the school, slipping on the shiny
tiled floor, as I turned corners. The snow melting from the soles of my boots
made traction nearly impossible. At one point, as I bashed into the wall and
fell to my hands and knees, a burning pain surged through my limbs. Aunt Rachel
had gone to the floor with me.
As
I scrambled to my feet to sprint the last ten or twenty feet to the library
doors, she stayed crumpled on the floor. I heard her yelling, "Go, Ella.
Go! You are the one that has to be in there, don't worry about the rest of us.
JUST GO!"
As
her final words hit my ears, I burst through the double doors and skidded to a
halt in the center of the beautiful old library. It was just the way I
remembered it.
Towering
shelves filled with books covered the walls from the floor all the way up to
the vaulted ceiling, at least twenty feet above. Rolling steps waited around
the room to be used to reach the higher books. At the halfway point up the
wall, a walkway, with rolling ladder attached to a track.
Dark
leather chairs gathered around rich mahogany tables, topped with brass reading
lamps, scattered throughout the room. This space invited you to curl up with a
book and lose yourself for a few hours. I had always wondered whether or not
all of those thousands of books had ever actually been read.
I
stood perfectly still, in the exact center of the room. Both of my feet planted
on the mosaic star, marking the center of the floor. I tried to catch my
breath. I felt so warm, maybe from the exertion of running, maybe from fear.
I
tore my hat and scarf off, threw them to the floor with my gloves. My fingers
fumbled with the zipper, holding me trapped within the down-filled prison of my
warm jacket. With a final jerk, it added to the pile at my feet.
Sweat
trickled between my breasts and along my spine. Every stitch of clothing on my
body added to my discomfort. Within moments, every article I had put on that
morning lay strewn about my naked form. I stood there, unprotected and unashamed,
holding the amulet in my right hand.
Raising
my arms above my head, I looked to the vaulted ceiling and cried out, "I
am here! I stand before you, just as I was at my birth! I am hiding nothing.
This is the time that you chose, the place of your choosing! The moment is now!
Make yourself known!"
Thirty-five
It
started as a low rumble and a pinpoint of light at the pinnacle of the ceiling.
As the brilliant white light grew, so did the rumbling. The walls around me,
and the floor beneath my bare feet began to vibrate. I stood, as if frozen in
time and space, while books fell from their places on the shelves.
I
held myself as a statue, the only visible sign of life in my chest, as it rose
and fell in time with my breaths. I did not move, as the beam of light fell
upon my glistening skin, I simply closed my eyes against the brilliance of it.
I felt the warmth of the light encircle me. It moved over my flesh, as
thousands of tiny hands, reaching out to touch me.
I
felt no fear, no apprehension. I felt only the warmth and a sense of security.
As
the deafening rumble filled my ears, I felt the floor lose contact with the
soles of my feet. Without looking, I knew that it had not fallen away; rather,
I was floating above its undulating firmness.
Whatever
it was that was causing the extreme noise, it was also tearing the building
around me down to its foundation. I could hear the bricks crashing against each
other, the glass of the windows exploding and shattering. I heard the snapping
as electrical wires tore free from their panels; water and natural gas pipes
twisted and bent, finally letting go with metallic screams.
I
knew, with uncanny clarity that the school, which had been built around this octagon,
was no more.
At
the same time, I knew that my loved ones were safe and unharmed. I could feel
their fear, but I knew that no harm would come to them. I would not allow it.
As
the final sounds of the dying school faded, a new sound filled my ears. A soft,
low humming, much like the sound a hummingbird makes, flitting between flowers.
Softly,
my feet came back into contact with the floor. As I shifted my weight to gain
my balance, I lowered my arms to my sides and opened my eyes. At first, I could
see nothing more than whiteness. It was unlike any light I had ever seen
before. It was an absolutely pure white light.
The
only thing that I can compare it to would be bright winter sunshine glaring off
freshly fallen snow. There was an almost crystal-like quality to the air around
me. Although it was not painful, it felt as though I was blind… in reverse.
Instead of seeing nothing but blackness, I saw nothing but whiteness.
I
felt someone take my hand and slowly turned to my left. There she was… Amy was
once again holding my left hand. She stepped around to stand directly in front
of me and reached out to hold my right hand as well.
We
stood there, as we had been in the womb, holding tightly to each other, sharing
the burden of the amulet… alone within a world of warmth and light.
"You
are not scared, are you?" she asked, just above a whisper.
"No…
at least not for myself."
"All
right, then it's time."
Once
again, I felt my feet lift away from the firmness of the floor, as Amy and I
began to slowly spin. As we built up speed, I was unsure as to whether we were
going up or down. In fact, I am sure that at one point we were actually upside
down. My gaze never left her face; our eyes were locked in a trancelike stare.
My instincts told me that as long as she and I stayed together, everything
would be all right.
When
we were spinning at unbelievable velocity, Amy told me to let go of the amulet.
"Just let it go, Ella. Open your hand and let it fly free. Do it now,
Ella! This is their moment and they need the power of the star twins. Give them
the power. Open your hand!"
I
felt the excitement and anticipation flowing from her, as my fingers uncurled,
allowing the foundation of my quest to thrust itself from my grasp. It flew to
the center of the vortex, in which we were suspended. Hanging before our eyes
briefly, it spun of its own accord, in the opposite direction.
With
jarring abruptness, Amy and I stopped spinning. As we fell to the ground, some
distance below, the amulet continued its spinning assent, becoming one with the
source of light, far above the library ceiling.
As
our bodies made surprisingly gentle contact with the floor, there was an
explosion of light far above us. The air came alive, with swirling movement.
Amy and I were no longer alone. We now shared the space with literally
thousands of pastel-colored spheres.
They
swept around us randomly. Some of them brushed against us as they took part in
an excited dance, throughout the room. As I watched these unusual bubbles,
I realized that I was no longer blinded. I could clearly see the floor beneath
me, as well as the walls around me.
It
came as somewhat of a shock, when I realized that I was as far removed from the
dusty old library as one can possibly be. The towering bookcases had been
replaced with translucent walls that rippled with a rainbow of colors. Beyond
these walls, I caught occasional glimpses of what appeared to be rooms.
The
floor upon which I now stood looked to be the same strange material. It
reminded me of the oily film that you see on the surface of puddles in the
summer, especially in parking lots and around garages. I could see through the
floor, to where the library basement should have been. There was no basement
though.
The
filmy walls continued down into the core of the earth, for as far as I could
see. As I stood transfixed by the sight, lights came on within the depths.
Level by level, the squared circles illuminated, including, but not stopping
at, the level on which I stood. For miles below and above me, well-lit rooms
surrounded me.
Standing in the center of this strange, new room, I began to
examine the rooms on my level, closer. The one directly in front of me, at
first appeared to be empty. As I stood there looking, I realized that I was
looking at a vast field of yellow flowers. Somewhere near the center of that
field, I saw what at first, I had mistaken for a rock.
Turning
to face me, Amy remained seated among the flowers, but raised a hand in
greeting. She had a crown of flowers in her hair and a bouquet of them in her
hand. When had she left my side? I hadn't even noticed that she was no longer
holding my hand.
The
look on her face was one of absolute joy. That was not the first time I had
seen her in that field of flowers. I found myself thinking that it must be her happy
place. I lifted my own hand to wave back at her and jumped to see my arm
encased in a flowing white material. It was very much like the material that I
remembered the 'Lady in White' wearing at the institute.
Looking
down, I found that somehow, without my knowledge, I had been dressed in a long
flowing white gown. The bodice hugged my breasts and ribcage snugly before
filling out to become the full skirt, the hem of which swept the floor softly
as I moved my feet.
The sleeves were tight at the shoulder, opening into wide
sweeping, cascading folds. When I held my arms out at right angles to my body,
I almost appeared to have wings. Rubbing my hands delicately down my stomach,
the material felt as soft as down. It was so light; I could not feel any weight
against my skin.
To
anyone who might be listening, and to no one in particular, I cried out, "Am
I dead? Is this heaven? Are these my angel wings?"
"No,
you silly widget," a familiar voice answered from my right. From behind
her near-invisible wall, Nanny stood looking at me. She had her favorite apron
on, over her own white gown. With a rolling pin in one hand, she stood leaning
against a well-used trestle table.
I
fell to my knees at the all-too-familiar sight of her. "How is this
possible?" I cried. "Nanny, you are dead… I was there when you passed
away. I watched them lower you into the ground. How can you be here? How can I
see you if I'm not dead, too?"
"You
watched them lower my outer casing into the ground, my dear. That was just some
old skin and bones, a bag to carry me around in. That wasn't the real me. What
a sad world it would be, if that were all we are.
"Nothing
more than dust and water held together by some leather. I was so tired of being
held inside that case, it was worn out, old and broken. I was so happy when I
finally broke free of it, to soar once again among the stars." She turned
back to her pies.
I
was so confused, and I was sick of being confused. I wanted answers, not more
questions. "You are not making any sense! If the way I saw you was nothing
more than a case, then why do I still see you the same way now? Why are you
standing there, in your favorite apron, making pies?
Jumping
to my feet, as her wall closed over with the oily film again, I spread my arms
wide and turned my face to the light-source far above me, "Damn it, I want
to know what this is all about! Enough of these foolish games and riddles.
Where am I? Where are you? What happened to the library? Where is my family? Give
me answers!"
"Are
you sure that you are truly ready for the answers?"
It
was 'The Lady in White'. She was hovering about two feet off the floor in front
of me, smiling down at me, with her arms spread.
Thirty-six
"How
did you get here? I thought you were just a ghost that resided at the
institute. How is it possible for you to be here?" I whispered, in sudden
blinding fear.
She
drifted down, until she was standing as firmly as I was, on the strange floor. "You
do not need to be afraid, my dear. I am not here to harm or scare you. I am
simply here to help you. We are all here to help you."
Her
hand came to rest, gently on my upper-arm. The warmth radiating from that
slight contact washed over me, calming me, infusing me with a feeling of
contentment, the likes of which I have never experienced.
"No one here will be harmed. Look around, they are all
quite happy."
Tearing
my eyes from her, I looked around at the rest of the rooms and I was amazed!
* * * *
The
room beside my grandmother's was a section of a dancehall. I could see the
festive decorations draped across the walls and suspended from the ceiling. On
a small table near the far wall, there stood a three-tiered white cake.
Delicate yellow roses decorated the smooth icing. Two white taper candles held
in silver candlesticks, stood sentry on either side of the cake.
There
must have been numerous candles throughout the room, which I could not see. The
wonderfully soft glow that they cast moved with a liquid quality over the walls
as well as the couple at the center of my sight. They moved together, swaying
slowly to the rhythm of unheard music.
The
man, resplendent in his charcoal grey suit, was holding his partner with such
loving tenderness. I felt that I was intruding upon a very private moment.
The
floor-length white satin gown that his partner wore glimmered in the soft glow
of the candles. Tiny crystals came to life along her sleeve as she lifted her
hand to gently stroke his cheek in total adoration.
Their
impassioned love for one another was blatantly clear with every movement. The
slow, sultry dance brought them closer to the filmy wall and they came clearly
into focus.
My
breath caught in my throat as my father's profile appeared, above the starched
white shirt. He was staring deeply, lovingly into the eyes of his bride.
Happiness, love and the promise of a future, shone in my mother's eyes.
I
dearly wanted to go to them. I wanted to share in their bliss, to know that
version of my parents. The couple dancing before my eyes was not the people I
had come to know. They were in love and looking forward to a life filled with
happiness. They were the exact opposite of the angry, lonely people, looking
back on a life filled with hardship--that I knew.
The
music must have ended; the happy couple stood perfectly still, holding each
other. Arthur held Sandra tightly to his chest. His hands moved against her
back, causing the satin to slide across her skin.
As
his head lowered to hers, I saw him say, "I love you".
At
the very moment that their lips came together, the oily rainbow once again
filled the wall between us.
I
was left standing there, still rooted to my spot, with tears tracing slowly
down my cheeks. Their love had been so profound. They had so many plans for the
future--before any of this had started.
A
love that deep should have been able to withstand anything that the world threw
at it. The world had nothing to do with any of this, though. How could anyone
be expected to be the same, after all of this?
* * * *
Turning
farther, I was able to see into the next room. At first, I thought that someone
had made a mistake. While the other rooms had contained places that I could
recognize, the scene held within that room, was completely foreign to me.
The
lush green undergrowth of a jungle very nearly filled the space to capacity. Upon
closer inspection, I was able to see through the foliage. It seemed to part in
front of me, so that I might see the primitive village, hidden in its midst.
Round
huts haphazardly surrounded a central fire pit. Naked, ebony children ran free,
loving life with abandon. The adults, male as well as female, wore nothing more
than thongs around their waists with flaps hanging down in the front and back.
Everyone
that I saw had close-cropped hair and intricate tattoos covered their heads. In
the middle of these happy villagers, standing out in stark contrast, was my
brother. Adam, dressed the same way as the members of the tribe, was sitting on
a well-used log, in front of one of the huts.
Adolescents
gathered at his feet as he regaled them with a story. He was busily telling
them of his journeys, through hand gestures and an array of languages. A
beautiful woman stood at his side, interpreting.
He
looked up to her, as he paused in the telling of the tale. A look of pure love,
fresh and new, passed between the two of them. That simple glance caused all
those gathered around to break out in raucous laughter.
Adam
was so happy. He had become a world traveler and teacher. He was in love--with
life--with the world --and most importantly, with the tribal beauty at his
side.
My
heart cheered for him. "Congratulations my dear, sweet Adam," I found
myself whispering, my hands clasped to my breast. "You walked out the
front door of that house and said that you would find your own way home.
"You
did it, Adam. You found your place… your home! You are free, Adam. Embrace all
of that love, live your life to its fullest."
The
jungle closed in and my glimpse of his happiness was once again cut off.
Instead, my attention shifted to the next room.
* * * *
Aunt
Rachel was standing in the largest kitchen I have ever seen. She was surrounded
with steaming pots, as well as a small army. Everyone was clearly following her
every direction with rigid precision.
She
slowly made her way between them all, stopping briefly at each pot to dip the
offered spoon in and taste the contents. Into some, she added a dash of this or
a splash of that. Others, she would stand over, kissing the tips of her
fingers, indicating its perfection.
As
Rachel made her way over to a counter along one wall, I saw a half-dozen other
men and women. They were carefully preparing a mountain of sandwiches.
Satisfied with their progress, she moved on to join a group at yet another
counter.
Soup
was being ladled in Styrofoam bowls, with tight-fitting lids. These were placed
into shoe-boxed containers, joined by plastic cutlery, paper napkins, fruit juice,
and cellophane wrapped sandwiches.
As
each lunchbox was filled, it was added to others, stacked in larger boxes.
These were then carried out to a waiting truck and delivered throughout the
city.
At
some unseen, unheard signal, Aunt Rachel clapped her hands together, lifted one
of the large soup pots from the heat, and headed out the door. With that day's
offering in her hands, she led the others, a look of sweet contentment on her
face.
Aunt Rachel, the supreme soup aficionado, was running one of
the country's largest shelters. She was making sure that everyone had a full
stomach, a warm safe place to sleep and a feeling of self-worth. She was
clearly in her element. That was precisely the life that she had always been
meant to live. It was obvious that her happiness knew no bounds.
* * * *
"So
far, these rooms are all showing my family, happier than I have ever seen them
in my life. Please tell me--are these shadows of what their lives should have
been? What could have been, if it were not for me?"
"You
have only taken the time to look into five of the rooms, Ella. There are three
more on this level. One of them is mine, it is for me to fill as I see fit.
Another shall remain empty; it is more of a doorway than a room. This leaves,
only one."
"Chris'
room," I whispered. "But, what about me? Do I not get a room? Do I
not deserve the kind of happiness that the rest of my family enjoys within
those walls?"
Thirty-seven
"This
is your room Ella," the Lady explained softly. "You see each
of these others as a room that you are peering into. For the occupants of each
of those rooms though, it is the same as it is for you. Each is held within
their own squared circle. They are the ones who are looking in at you.
"Each
person is surrounded by rooms filled with those whom they love. They all stand
upon their own star, looking about them, watching lives unfold. They count
their blessings and give thanks for all the happy moments that have touched
their lives.
"None
of them is alone. Each one has a guide. Just as I am here with you, they are
all being helped to understand what it is that they are experiencing."
Trying
desperately to understand, I had to ask. "When they are looking in at me…
what do they see? I am standing here, doing nothing more than looking into
rooms, that now you are telling me are not actually rooms; and talking to
someone, who no one else seems to be able to see. Is that what they can see of
me?"
"No,
not at all," she reassured, "they see you as you are truly meant to
be, Ella. These walls do not show the simple casings that your mother's mother
spoke of. These walls allow us to view the truth, the love and happiness, the
life that each and every person holds within them. These are not visions of
dreams, nor are they shadows of the past. Rather, what you see before you, are
possibilities for the future."
"That
is not possible," I cried. "First of all, both my sister and my
grandmother are dead. How can you stand there and say that this is their
future? They have no future!"
"Not
upon your realm--that is true." Just as calm as ever, she carried on her
explanation. In the face of my emotional turmoil, her constant calm was
becoming an irritation.
"But
life, the true essence of life, does not end when your body has come to the end
of its usefulness. Everyone carries on. Either they return to the earthly
realm, in order to experience another life, or they continue within their own
essence.
"All
of those spheres that you witnessed, after you set the symbol free, they each
contained the essence of life. They were the free-flowing forms of that which
is held inside the earth-bound casings.
"They
were the truth, which is hidden beneath your coverings."
"Then
why do I see Nanny and Amy with their earth-bound casings firmly intact?"
"Simply
because that is how you need to see them in order to recognize them. I know
that you have many other questions, but it is necessary for you to look into
the remaining room, before we can continue. You must look into Chris' room,
Ella."
I
began to tremble. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid it was about to
leap from my chest.
"I
am not sure that I can," I confessed, with a choked voice. "Everyone
else's room shows them enjoying a happiness that does not include me. If I were
to look into Chris' vision and see him looking upon someone else with the
adoration that I have seen reflected in the faces of the others, my heart would
surely shatter into a million pieces."
"He
does look upon a face, with unwavering love, my dear Ella. It is not the face
that you see reflected in the mirror--it is indeed the face of another."
She told me, as she softly placed her arm about my waist, turning me to face
the feared wall.
"Lift
your eyes, Ella, and look upon Chris' ultimate happiness. See what he truly
holds most dear."
* * * *
In a
sturdy wooden rocking chair, at the center of a pastel, airy nursery, sat a
grey-haired man. He was slowly rocking back and forth, lovingly cradling a tiny
infant in the crook of his arm. As a soft breeze through the open window caused
the sheer curtains to billow, the baby squirmed. The old man tenderly ran a
gnarled finger down its soft cheek, cooing to the child, soothing it.
* * * *
"I
don't understand," I whispered. "Is this room a look into the past?
Was Chris never happier than when he was a newborn, held in the protective arms
of his grandfather?"
'The
Lady' softly laughed, "Stop looking so hard with your eyes, Ella, look
instead, with your heart."
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and re-opened them to
look once again at the tender scene playing out before me. Tears cascaded down
my cheeks as the truth of what I was witnessing, became apparent to me. It was
not Chris and his grandfather in the room. Instead, I was looking at Chris,
holding his own grandchild.
"Eli,"
I breathed. "He is the child of my child!"
I
was so overcome with love for the two of them, rocking slowly in that room that
I felt my knees going weak.
"His
happiness… Chris' happiness… is me!" I stammered. "Not just me … the
memory of our life together. Our love, our children, and Eli, our first-born
grandson."
A
rush of memories, not yet made, bombarded me. Memories of a lifetime spent with
Chris at my side. A life, not always spent in absolute blissful happiness, but
one that made us strong and sure of each other.
Turning
to look into the eyes of my guide, I saw my happiness mirrored there. "The
only thing I don't understand now is my parents' room. The scene is of their
wedding--that is from many years ago, everything else is the future, but their
happiness is in the past. Does that mean that they will never be happy again?"
Once
again smiling, she helped me understand what I had actually seen. The
decorations in the hall, were not yellow, as I had at first thought, they were
in fact gold. The candlesticks, which held the white tapers, beside the cake,
were also gold.
My
parents were not sharing a dance at their wedding party. They were in fact
celebrating their marriage, but it was the fiftieth anniversary of their union.
It was the celebration of a half-century, spent supporting and loving each
other.
While
they may have spent thirty years separated by the fear of a situation, which
they had no control over, they had continued to hold faithfully to the vows
that they made, years before.
* * * *
Feeling
that all was right with my world, I willingly followed 'The Lady' as she led me
to the room, which was not a room.
Thirty-eight
Moving
between the two rooms was an experience unlike any I had ever had before. As we
approached the wall, it looked to be much too solid for anyone to be able to
just pass through. Although this wall consisted of the same oily film as the
rest of them, the knowledge that I was expected to pass through it, made me a
little concerned.
'The
Lady' stepped close to the wall, lifted her hand, and traced her fingertips
across the surface in a gentle arch. The rainbow kaleidoscope swirled in
beautiful trails, following her hand. As she lowered her arm, the swirling
colors continued their dance, spiraling in ever expanding circles. After a few
moments, all of the colors gathered at the outer edges of the wall, leaving the
center clear.
Reaching
out to take my hand, 'The Lady' stepped through the clear area, pulling me in
after her. Being careful to lift my feet high enough to step over the filmy
colors, I crossed into a completely different world.
We
stood just on the other side of the wall, in a corridor of sorts. The opening
we had passed through disappeared the instant that I was all the way through.
In its place was a continuation of the corridor. Wherever I was, the only way
out, was now gone.
Sensing
my need for a few minutes to get my bearings, 'The Lady' stood patiently at my
side. I took this time to look around me. The walls, ceiling, and floor all
seemed to be alive. It was all moving as one, undulating as the floor of the
library had earlier. Everything had a slick, moist appearance. As I cautiously
reached a finger out to touch the wall, I was shocked to find that it was warm
and dry. There was a very strange quality to it all.
The
soft silver color that now surrounded us was interspersed with faint lines of
soft hues. It reminded me of watercolors on a wet, silver canvas, or the
interior of a massive rare opal. For some reason, the constant slow motion,
which encased us, made me think of a snake's throat.
It
was long and close, pulsating with a constant rhythm, much like the muscle
contractions, as the serpent works to swallow its prey. Looking back on it, I
wonder why I had not tried to run in terror. Being manipulated through the
opalescent throat of a giant anaconda is not something a sane person would,
willingly, take part in.
At
the time that it was happening though, it never once crossed my mind that I
could be in any sort of danger. I had the sensation of utter peace and
tranquility. I felt I was being held gently, within the arms of love, being
coaxed deeper into the tunnel, with patience and nurturing.
At
the slightest of nods from me, my shining guide had resumed her lead. The
throbbing shaft, through which we passed, was not as long as it had at first
appeared. Before long, we were beyond its grasp. Standing at the edge of a
breathtakingly, massive room, I stood in awe. It was much larger than any
auditorium I had ever seen.
The enormous circular room glowed with the same opalescence of
the tunnel we had just exited. This space was very still though. Its stillness,
making it seem even more a place of reverence.
As
I stood there with 'The Lady' at the opening of the tunnel, my eyes scanned the
area in front of me. I tried to find something that would give me a clue as to
where I was. There was nothing, no furnishings, no markings on the walls, and
no columns holding the lofty ceiling, just empty space. Looking to my guide for
an explanation, got me nothing more than a smile and a nod.
Clearly,
I was expected to venture further into the void on my own. Whatever lay ahead,
was for me to discover, without any more assistance. After taking a few furtive
steps away from the relative security that she represented, I turned. Half
expecting 'The Lady in White' to be gone, I was startled to find that she was
still there. In fact, she now had company.
On
either side of her stood others, dressed just as she was. As I watched, more
and more stepped forward from the wall to join the ranks watching me. Letting
my eyes trace across these newcomers, I found myself turning slowly.
What
I had at first taken to be shadows around the circumference of the space, I now
realized were actually thousands of these others. Standing motionless against
the walls, their long cloaks, an exact match to the color of the surroundings,
they had been nearly invisible, until stepping forward.
I
felt their eyes upon me. I felt their anticipation and their love. As I slowly
continued to make my way to the center of the vast space, I felt the same sense
of safety, that I had perceived emanating from 'The Lady'. The feeling had been
multiplied though; it was almost overwhelming in its power. I very nearly felt
invincible.
As
I approached what I felt to be the middle of the room, my eyes were drawn to
the floor at my feet. Lying there, on the glowing floor, was my amulet. I knew
it was the same one, which I had held in my hand so tightly, even though it
looked different now.
It
no longer looked made out of bone or ivory. It was now clearly metallic,
glowing softly silver as it lay there at my feet. Bending to retrieve it, I
felt, more than heard, a presence behind me.
Freezing,
with my hand hovering a hair's width above the medallion, I turned my head to
glance over my shoulder. What I saw astounded me…
The
tallest man I had ever laid eyes on was standing there, looking down at my tiny
form. From head to toe, he was covered with an opulent cloak. At first glimpse,
it seemed to be the same white as the rest of them. Then he moved, ever so
slightly and a dazzling array of colors filled my eyes.
The
hem, sleeves and hood of his cloak, held embroidery of astounding intricacy.
The tiny stitches of silver and gold threads were twisted and interwoven to
form fantastic geometric shapes, symbols and scenery. Moons and stars adorned
the front panel, as it lay against his great chest.
Nothing could be seen of this great leader within the shadows
of his cloak. It fell below his fingertips; the hem brushed the floor to hide
his feet. It so completely covered him that I found myself staring intently
into the shadow, within the hood, desperate for a glimpse of his majestic face.
Somewhere hidden within that darkness was a face that I sorely wanted to gaze
upon.
No
introductions were made, no salutations or warm words of greeting. None needed!
I knew that I was kneeling in the presence of the elder of the elders. I
knew that, as assuredly as I had ever known anything before or since.
Lowering
my eyes to look at the hem of his magnificent cloak, rather than take the
chance of insulting him with my constant stare, I felt his words touch me,
somewhere deep inside.
"Are
you certain that it is truly within your heart, to lay claim to the key once
again, my child?"
Looking
to my hand once again, I realized that I had not moved an inch. My fingers
still hovered, trembling just above the amulet. Within my soul, I felt that it
held all of the answers.
I
had a sudden urge to snatch it up and race away with it. I wanted to take it
back, hide it and lay claim to all of the power that it held.
I
wanted to keep the secrets for myself, not sharing them with anyone, not even
my twin or my beloved Chris. A battle raged within me, as I knelt there on that
smooth floor. A battle for more than ownership of the key.
If
I took it… would they try to stop me? With the power that it gave me… would
they even be able to?
I
could just pick it up and leave. I could find some way to make it give me the
answers, some way to use the power. I had something of what it was able to do;
the power that it held, was what brought all of this here. There had to be more
to it than that. All of that power could be mine. I could do whatever I wanted
to, be whatever I wanted. The world would be mine to control. No one would ever
stand in my way. No one could!
But…
what of those gathered in the room? What would become of 'The Lady'? She had
been so kind, so gentle and patient.
What
would become of those I loved? The last I saw of them, they were all so happy,
would that change if I closed my fingers around the small disk before me? Would
the grandchild that I watched Chris hold so tenderly, have a place in my life if
the power was mine? Would Chris? Did I care?
Answers
to question I never even knew I had… the power to change the world, as we knew
it… the chance to be anything I wanted to be… or love! Was there really any
competition?
I closed my fingers around the one thing that
I knew gave me super-human power. My fingernails bit into the tender flesh of
my palms, as I held so tightly to that one small hope.
The
amulet… lay powerless and dull upon the floor.
Turning
again to face the cloaked figure before me, he no longer seemed quite so big. "The
key is not mine to control. I may have been its keeper, I may have been meant
to know of its existence for my entire life, but I am glad that I did not. I am
glad to let it lay where it is.
"I
want nothing that it has to offer. I want none of its false power. I want
nothing to do with the questions or secrets that it represents.
"I
want only to know the truth. If you can give me that, my heart shall be filled
with such joy.
"If
you cannot, my heart shall not break.
"I
have a power… I hold it in my hand. It is greater than any power your amulet
could ever have held."
Lifting
my hand for him to see, I slowly uncurled my fingers, exposing my empty palm.
The elder of elders stepped forward, to look more closely at my hand.
"Do
you not see it? Do you not see what I hold in the palm of my hand?"
His
hand came up under my own, his long, pale, strangely smooth palm resting
against the back of my shaking fingers. The same sort of warmth radiated from
his touch as that from 'The Lady', I felt the same sensation of love and
security fill me.
His
words came from deep within the hood, "I see what you think you
hold in your hand, but do you truly know what you possess?"
Snatching
my hand from his, I challenged him, "I don't think I hold anything.
I know what I hold onto. I hold the most powerful thing in creation--I hold
the power to move mountains--change lives--give life. I hold love! And there is
nothing that you have that is any stronger than the power of love."
As
my emotions got the better of me, my voice rose as I got to the end of my
challenge. At the same instant, his hand rose into the air in a signal. He
halted the battalion behind him. I had not noticed their number, as they
gathered around their leader. If I had, I may not have been quite so brave as
to stand up to this figure. While none of them appeared to be armed in any conventional
way--it was clear that their sole purpose was his safety. They clearly saw me
as a threat.
Noticing
my nervousness, at the sudden realization of their presence, the elder lowered
his hand to let it rest lightly on my shoulder. "You need not have fear.
You are loved here, and gladly welcomed by all. My brothers and sisters here
are just anxious. No one will harm you; that is my oath."
With
the smallest amount of pressure, he turned me and led me to an uncomfortably
hard-looking chair, which had somehow appeared.
"We
know that you have many questions, and there are many things that we wish to
explain to you. Please sit and open your heart to me, make yourself open to the
knowledge that you are about to receive."
Thirty-nine
I
lowered myself into the chair and was instantly reminded of the last time I had
visited the dentist. I knew that this was something that had to be done--it was
for my own good, yet I was still scared to death. The chair even had the same
feeling to it as a dental chair. It was sleek, streamlined, and molded to my
body. As I leaned back onto the headrest, it reclined slightly.
Two
metallic bands snaked out from the sides of the headrest, coming to rest
against my temples. The cold pressure of them caused me to jump. My heart
pounded in my chest. I felt the bile rising in my throat, as I fought the need
to vomit. Cold beads of sweat broke out all over my trembling body.
"What
is this?" I cried out. "What are you doing to me? I can't move. My
hands are trapped, my feet are stuck--I am paralyzed. Let me up from here! Let
me go!"
He was
standing over me, looking down on my helplessness, as a parent looking at their
newborn. "No harm will come to you, you have my oath. This is simply a
device to help you understand. We progress at a different pace than your kind. Our
simplest thoughts are so far advanced to that which you are used to--without
this chair, you could be permanently injured.
"Through
this, we can direct our thoughts to the appropriate area of your consciousness.
You will receive more information in the span of a minute than you could ever
learn in a year.
"You
must be still, in order to have understanding. Your essence knows this, which
is why you cannot move. It is why your body will not obey the commands that
your brain is trying to give it. We have not restrained you in any way. Nothing
holds you there, other than your own need to know the truth. The answers, which
you seek, are now within your grasp. All you need to do is reach for them.
"Let
your mind's eye have the control. Let it follow the path to its end and fill
you with the knowledge that you have searched for, so diligently.
"Let
us give you the truth."
Struggling
to keep my eyes open and focused on his commanding presence, I whispered, "I
am ready. Show me now, before I fade away. Fill me to over-flowing with your
knowledge. Give me your truth and then… let me be!"
The last thing I saw, as my eyelids won the
fight, was his beautiful, shining face as he pushed back the shield of
embroidered cloth.
Human
eyes should never gaze upon something so perfect. Our primitive minds have no
way to recognize or register such perfection!
* * * *
The
multitude, which had gathered, was unnaturally quiet and still as I stood
looking out over them. People from every nation, every walk of life, stood
shoulder to shoulder, row upon row; surrounding the 'vault of knowledge'. I don't
know how they all came to be gathered there, it was as if a kind of signal went
out to the world at large, and they all flocked to the spot. They all watched
me, intently waiting for me to say something, profound.
The
re-joining had happened, just the way it was meant to. Perhaps not with as much
noise or obvious change, as some had expected. Truth is like that though--it is
a quiet, still voice that can only be heard when you allow yourself to truly
listen.
As
I stepped away from my small cluster of family to speak to the thousands, I
shed tears of pure joy. The rainbow was before me; it swam through the crowd.
From the darkest of the dark to the purest white and every color in between, it
filled my sight.
It
had nothing to do with the clothes, the flowers, flags or banners strewn about.
The rainbow was--them. Just them. The inhabitants of this great orb, on which
we all lived, and it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen!
With
no microphone or sound system, I stood before them. I raised my arms to embrace
them all and knew that each one would be able to hear every word I said.
Speaking
softly, with the voice of love, I began…
"I am Eluna Oyet Anoor. My name is a
message to all of you. If the letters of my name are switched around, you will
see--we are not alone. This is the ultimate truth, the one that you have
all gathered here to learn.
"In
your darkest moments, when you feel that there is no way for you to continue,
remember these words--We Are Not Alone.
"My
life has been lived, so that I could bring you this message. At my conception,
I was chosen, along with another, to be the bearer of the key. The key to
unlock the truth of our existence. She, who was at my side, sharing the burden,
was called back.
She,
like I, was given her name at the exact moment when the cells split, to form a
new life. Her name is Zandemy Misherol. Just as my name is, a message… so is
hers--Zandrel Is My Home.
"Most
of us spend our whole lives looking for our own Zandrel--we all want a place
where we are accepted and loved, unconditionally. We all want a place to call
home.
"What
is Zandrel? Where is it? I know these are the questions, running through your
minds right now, consuming you thoughts.
"Does
it really have to be an actual, physical place? Can you only accept it if it is
a tangible thing, that you can touch and see? Can we not just look to the stars
and feel contentment in the knowledge that we are cared for?
"For
generations upon generations, this is what we have done. Unfortunately, we have
lost it in recent years. We, as a people, have become so wrapped up in the
physical that we have forgotten about the more important things in life.
"We
have made it clear that we needed some sort of physical sign; some object that
we could turn to, in order to justify the belief that there is more to life
than just what we see. Belief in anything, just for the sake of belief has
become a faint memory, from our ancestors.
"Do
any of you believe that we have been alone in the universe, all these many
years? When we look to the stars, have we truly only been seeing emptiness? Or,
has there been some power looking back at us?
"The
structure that you are all gathered around is a gift from the people of
Zandrel. It is their way, of letting all of us know, that we are not in fact
alone. Never more will we have to gaze at the empty expanse of space, and
wonder."
Turning
to look at the monolithic silver structure, now firmly attached to what used to
be the high school library, I took a moment to revel in its simple beauty. The
rounded edges of the tower gleamed in the sun, as it beamed upon its surface.
Rising into the air, in an ever-widening octagon, it resembled a high-tech
chrome funnel.
With
no visible support holding its massive top in place, it balanced perfectly on
what had been the roof of the library.
Scenes
played across the surface, showing the complete history of our world. From the
time when the light first shone upon the cold rock, caught in the gravitational
pull of our sun. We were all witness to the birth of our planet.
We
watched as land and seas were formed. Great forests sprang forth before our
eyes. Dinosaurs roamed the plains as first man stepped forth to make his place
in the wilds.
Turning
back to address the awed crowd, I was thrilled to see all eyes filled with
tears. They understood. They knew what a wonderful sight was before their
eyes.
"I have spent time with those who gave us
this gift, and I have learned many things. The ancient ones were here, before
time began. We are all their children, we are all of the same race--the human
race.
"They
gave us this home, to care for and enjoy. They entrusted us with the life of
this planet. There are many others throughout the universe, but they should not
be our concern. Our time and energy would be best spent, seeing to the needs of
the planet that we were given.
"Each
inhabited orb was supplied with everything that could possibly be needed. Every
illness was foreseen and a cure was put in place, to be discovered by us. Some
of these cures have been destroyed, by our own foolishness. Rather than taking
the time to discover the treasures hidden within the great forests of this
planet, we saw only what could be done with the land and lumber.
"We
have polluted the land on which we stand, as well as the water that makes up so
much of our world. In the last thousand years, we have cared more for
ourselves, our wants, our progress, than we have for the life of this planet.
"Every
creature was given a purpose, from the time before the dinosaurs. If it were
not for their remains, we would not have the oil deposits that we have made use
of for so many years.
"For
thousands of years, the elders have been diligently sending messages to us.
They have tried to show us the way, without interfering. They have watched and
waited, hoping that we would realize our mistakes and correct them, before it
was too late.
"You
could say that we are an experiment, of sorts. Each of the inhabited planets
throughout the universe was given its own special quality. There are many that
are much older than ours, they are so much more advanced than us, we are but
children in comparison. There are also some that are much younger than us.
"When
we were placed here, our special quality--or gift--was free will. We all have
it and always have. From the time when teeth were pressed into the forbidden
fruit, we have been exercising our free will.
"Over
time, secrets have been shard with us by the elders, as well as visitors from
some of the other solar systems. Guidelines have been given; written in stone.
"Messages
have been sent, knowledge has been shared. At times this knowledge was too
much, too soon and had to be washed away or swallowed by the waters. But
always, we have had the free will to chose for ourselves, what to do with the
knowledge.
"Some
secrets were held within the knowledge of the pyramids. The shape, the
materials, the brute physical strength needed to build them, was in itself a
message. One that has long since been forgotten.
"Others
stand, still gathered in circles, waiting for us to remember their meaning. We
have moved so swiftly forward, we have forgotten much of the lessons of the
past."
Forty
I spoke
for hours. I told them all that I had learned in that chair. I told them of the
elders' pleasure at our accomplishments as well as their disappointment at our
foolishness. I did my best to make them understand that we were one family--all
of us.
* * * *
"There
is no truer phrase than the old saying, 'It takes a village to raise a child'.
This world is little more than a village and we are all responsible for each
other. If your neighbour is hungry, your food should be tasteless, unless
shared. The roof over your head does nothing to protect your homeless brother
or sister.
"The
mountain of gold you hold so tightly behind locked doors, is worthless. Money
is nothing more than a symbol of all that we have done wrong. Should our young
ones fight in the streets, because they covet another's expensive shoes? Should
the land be choked with bigger, more elaborate dwellings, just so we can prove
how much better we are than the rest?
"Do
any of these earthly trappings help your essence, your true life? Do they buy
you a better life, in the next one? Do they make you more important, in the
eyes of the elders?
"No.
"Life
is a precious gift, to be embraced, enjoyed. You are all the same. You--we--are
all equal. Every one of us came into the world in exactly the same way as the
next. You are the result of a miracle. Tiny cells splitting and being nurtured
within a woman's body.
"You
all entered this world naked, wet and helpless. Even the wild beasts are born
stronger than you are. A newborn jackass stands on his own legs, within minutes
of leaving his mother's womb. So, what makes you better than a jackass?
"The
fact that we are the ones who were given ownership over this world. That
is the only difference. We are the chosen ones! We are responsible for the rest
of the inhabitants of this planet!
"Even
though we are truly one of the weakest species on this rock, we were given
opposable thumbs and logical minds. We were given knowledge to build on and use
to better our lives. We were also given a great burden.
"The
future of this planet is in our hands.
"Keep
my name in mind… We Are Not Alone… it is more true now than it ever was before.
"The
elders have sent us yet another gift. They have given us so much more than this
beautiful building to gaze upon and learn from. They have sent us helpers.
"They
have been among us for some time now. They are your neighbors, your friends.
They teach your children, sell your food and drive your buses.
"They
don't look any different than anyone else. They laugh at your jokes, cry with
you when your pain is too much to bear. They bleed the same blood as you when
cut; they glisten with the same salty liquid as you when exerting themselves.
"They
fall in love, they know loss, they thoroughly enjoy sexual fulfillment. They
marry, have children and grow old. They pass from this world to once again soar
among the stars.
"The
difference between us and them is that they remember all the lessons from
throughout history. They are not here to harm us or even change us, too
drastically. They are simply here to embrace us, love us and help us.
"Soon,
they will make their presence known to all. The world will be amazed, shocked
and perhaps afraid when this happens. That, I am afraid is in part my fault.
"My
life was meant to be spent in a much different way, than it actually was. I
should have spent the last few years, preparing all of you for this day. You
should have had the knowledge of these others, long before now. The reasons
that this did not happen, are not important.
"What
is important is that you know now and you understand that this is a wonderful
thing. We are all about to enter a new era, a new way of life."
From
somewhere within the ranks of the crowd, I heard a commotion. I could see
people being jostled about, could hear them arguing with someone. Voices were
being raised , as were fists. This could have very easily turned into something
quite ugly.
"Hold
your temper! Let whoever that is, pass by you unharmed and unimpeded. Let them
come to me, so that we may speak." I called out to those involved.
Slowly
the crowd began to part and a bent, scared form made its way to the steps on
which I stood. I recognized him as soon as I saw him. My heart lurched. How
could I have forgotten? As he reached the bottommost step, he collapsed.
Running to him, I called to Chris and Adam to help me.
Gently
lifting the frail, white-haired head onto my lap, I looked deeply into his
rheumy eyes. "I am so sorry, Mr. Davidson. We never meant to hurt you."
Chris
and Adam helped me lift the old janitor and carry him to the platform, gently
lowering him to the floor, I pulled my coat off to cushion his head. As I sat
there, softly stroking his brow, he lifted his eyes to mine.
"You
left me there, in the shed. The whole world started in with shakings and
tremblings. There was tools in that shed, you know. Big tools that fell,
crashing all around and on me.
"Glass
shattered on my head. I had to lie there, where I was put and watch the whole
damn shed explode. It was just torn away, like a big twister decided to pick it
up and throw it away. I was inside it, but I wasn't in nothin' no more.
It was gone and I was still there."
My
tears fell freely, as my heart broke for this man. He was part of me, my family
and because of my actions; he had been hurt and scared. "I am so sorry,
Mr. Davidson. I never meant you to be in any danger. We thought you would be
safe in there. We really did. None of us would ever do anything to hurt you."
"You
ain't payin' attention, girly girl. Lookit over yonder!"
Lifting
a shaking hand, he pointed to where the shed had been. Wiping my eyes, I looked
to where he was indicating. To my amazement, there stood a shining building the
exact same size as the shed had been. I turned my puzzled gaze back to the
trembling man in my embrace.
"They
was too tall," he whispered. "They stood over me, not sayin' nothin'
I could understand. One of 'em kinda folded his self up and kneeled down aside
me. He looked deep at me, with his big grey eyes. Then he went to touchin' me.
"I
couldn't get away from him, 'cause your friends there, had me all wrapped with
me own cords. Plus, that big old toolbox had come down on my legs, busted 'em
both. Least, I thought they was busted up good.
"This
fella, the one with the eyes, he put his long fingers on my head. He dipped
into the blood there and held it up to show his buddies. They all acted like
they ain't never seen a cut 'afore. They went on talkin' that foreign babble,
like they was tryin' to decide why I was leakin'.
"Then
he turns those eyes on me again, and puts his fingers in my cuts. I mean, I
could feel him inside the cuts and it didn't even hurt none. It was hot. Felt
like I was about to go up in flames, but it didn't never hurt.
"One
of his buddies, well he got ahold o' my legs and squeezed 'em. The burning
inside there was even worse than in my cuts. I thought to myself that these
guys was gonna tear me apart and leave me there in the rubble.
"But,
then they just stood up and started lookin' around at the mess from the shed.
The third guy had just been standin' there, watchin' everything. He comes over
and sits down by my head. I can still feel the heat that they put in me and
then this third guy throws some kinda cloth over my face.
"At
first I was scared, but then I just went to sleep. I didn't feel tired or
nothin', but I just went to sleep. Then when I opened my eyes, I was sittin'
inside that new shed, good as new myself. I looked and I cant even find a black
and blue.
"I
don't know who they were--but wherever they learned medicine and construction
must be an amazing land. They told me to give you this."
He
handed me a small package wrapped in white cloth. Getting to his feet, he was
no longer shaking. In fact, he now stood straighter and stronger than I had
ever seen him. He started down the steps, stopping at the bottom he turned back
to me. "I don't know what kinda party you got goin' here, but the school
board is gonna be pissed about their building. They better not think I am gonna
clean this up either."
I
stood there watching the back of his head disappear into the crowd, as he
grumbled about finding a new job and trying to explain to his wife why he was
so late for dinner. Glancing around at Chris, I saw him shrug his shoulders and
flash me one of those amazing smiles I loved so much.
Forty-one
Opening
the package, I saw that I was once again in possession of the 'key'. This time
though, I knew what to do with it. Turning my back on the watching crowd, I
stepped close to the slick wall of the octagon.
There
in front of me, at eye level, was the only mark upon the slick surface. Raising
my hand, I ran my fingers across the blemish. "Thank you," I
whispered.
The
medallion fit perfectly into the mark. As I pressed my fingers against its
back, I could feel the elders' satisfaction. This was not how they had planned
it, this was more my plan than theirs.
They
had fully intended to carry out the plan of turning their backs on humankind,
taking with them the few who had shown that they were ready. The small
contingent of faithful followers, who had spent their lives trying to reach
Zandrel; always looking to the utopia, just beyond their reach.
I
had spent anxious moments with them, trying to convince them that we were
worthy of another chance. If we only had a glimmer of the knowledge, I was sure
we could improve.
Upon
seeing my distress, the elder of the elders had once again looked into my palm.
Hidden once again within his hood, he had searched the smooth surface of my
skin there. He peered deeply into my shining eyes, looking directly into my
soul. That was when they decided to give us the gift.
As
my fingers slipped from the wall, I watched my amulet become part of the
structure. It dissolved before my eyes, the way ice does in warm water. It
melted into the metal that surrounded it, becoming one with it, re-joining it.
And
so, the lessons began.
The
surface of the 'funnel' came to life. Pictures flashed across the surface, so
fast that they blurred together, swirling in a liquid rainbow. The oily film
was once again at work. Now I saw it for what it was, not random colors filling
a space, instead it was knowledge. Massive amounts of knowledge, merging
together in an amazing array.
As
the watching eyes devoured this rainbow, sounds filled the air. Not loud or
intrusive, but gentle and loving. Every language known to man floated through
the cool night air, coming to rest upon the ears that would understand them.
The
messages were received worldwide. Everyone, everywhere knew of the re-joining
and rejoiced. Those who were at first afraid, soon felt the joy too and joined
the celebrations. The news, for days afterwards, showed pictures of people
dancing in the streets. Strangers hugged one another, meals shared and doors
thrown open to welcome all inside.
Slipping
his arm around my waist, Chris had led me down the stairs and into the crowd.
We were soon nothing more than a part of the masses. No one would remember our
part in what had happened there that day… that was the way I wanted it.
* * * *
That was
fifty years ago. I do not know how many of you can remember the time before the
re-joining, but I hope a few of you can. The life that we have now is a
wondrous thing that was a long time coming. Try to remember the lessons of the
past, they are the knowledge.
Without
that knowledge, this world could slip again into the ways of war and weapons.
The forests have re-grown and everyone is healthier because of it. The ozone
has healed its self, except for that one small spot, but it is there as a
reminder. Live this life well my family and friends and always remember that we
are not alone.
As
I sit here writing this, I can feel Chris' essence around me. The party to
celebrate his passing, finally wound down today. Eli gave a marvelous speech
about his grandfather's work in the medical research community.
Finding
the flower in the swamp that held the first step to the cure of cancer, was one
of his greatest achievements. Chris always did give me the credit for that
though, saying that if he hadn't been picking a bouquet for me, he never would
have found it. He always did try to find the most unusual blooms to give me.
I
know that the real Chris is still around me and that I will soon be with him
again, but I still miss his physical presence. I miss the feel of his breath
against my skin and his soft kisses. Mostly, I miss the feeling of security I
always felt in his arms.
Sometimes,
when I am sitting quietly in the study, I still reach out for his hand. I will
be pleased when my turn comes to cross over and I can once again be re-joined
with my true love.
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
"We
all have fantasies, I just write them out!"
Jojo was
born in