by Ingrid Fry
An ear-shattering screeching assaulted our ears—the sound of a million fingernails clawing on a chalkboard. Jason clapped his hands over his ears. Darkness appeared around the doorframe and flowed into the room. Its blackness oozed like Vegemite through the cracks. The Dark Force was coming for us.
The crystal sphere erupted into a blazing wall of fluorescence. The black momentarily shrank back in response, but then surged forward with renewed purpose. The humming increased, and my atoms vibrated. Fear and hopelessness clutched at my heart. Jason yelled at me, deep and slow. I couldn’t understand what he said. Slo-mo mode had kicked in again.
The crystal sphere flamed out a penetrating brilliance which blasted our eyeballs and rocked our molecules. This was a war. A war between dark and light, and we were stuck in the middle.
‘Jump!’ I screamed at Jason and Boo, pointing to the space behind the sphere.
Jason grasped my hand, his eyes latched onto mine, and we jumped. Boo ignored me and plonked her bum on the floor. She wasn’t moving.
We leapt over the sphere into the heart of light. Heat like the sun on a perfect autumn day penetrated my bones. The warmth was as thick as treacle. We hovered, held in suspension above the sphere. Jason still held my hand tightly. Thousands of celestial tones chimed through my body, while my atoms buzzed with sound and light.
The Dark Force and the light faced off. Every time the light pulsed forward, the Dark Force retaliated. Boo was caught between them.
‘Boo, get back!’
Boo looked up at me with her big brown eyes and didn’t seem concerned. Amazing really, she was usually scared of anything strange—ceiling fans in particular. As there wasn’t a ceiling fan to be seen, she seemed quite at ease.
Boo’s fur stood on end as the Dark Force approached. Hair and dust particles flew from her coat in a whirlpool-like stream and vanished, sparking and crackling into the Dark Force. The stink of burnt hair filled the room. Boo’s face began to distort and her nose grew longer until she resembled a doggie greeting card. The end of her nose began to spark.
‘Run, Boo, run!’ I screamed.
Boo lifted her front leg. I knew that move. For Christ’s sake, she was going to ‘shake hands’ with the Dark Force.
‘No!’ I screamed. ‘No tricks, Boo! Don’t!’
‘Phffft!’ Boo’s trademark sneeze. She stared defiantly at the Dark Force. Its vortex sucked her beautiful long ears over her head, where they burst into flame and vanished. We screamed as Boo slammed her paw down on the sphere.
Our world disappeared in a blaze of light.[2]
Chapter 3: Lost Time & Dust
‘But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.’ — Peter 3:8
It was dark. A rib crushing weight pressed on my chest barely allowing me to breathe. Tired, almost drugged, a stench reached my nostrils, carried on the breath of something foul. It was close. Too close.
Frozen rigid, I strained to listen past the pounding in my ears. Lungs demanded breath, but breathing wasn’t an option. The putrid odour flowed over my face. A chilling growl rumbled in my right ear. An image of the Predator came to mind. I so wanted to morph into Arnold Schwarzenegger—a seriously awful, motherfucking monster was about to rip my face off.
A bone like finger poked me in the ribs.
‘Ow!’
The pain forced my heavy eyelids open, and I was confronted by—Boo! She sat on my chest, with her nose to mine. One bony paw dug into my side.
‘Eeewwuh! Stinky dog breath! Get off, Boo.’
Blinking to clear my vision, I surveyed my surroundings. Bloody hell. I was in bed. At home. The predator growling into my ear was Jason, snoring, dead to the world.
‘What the?’
Apparently, your mind can reel in mind-boggling situations. I’d always wondered what that felt like. Now I knew. My mind reeled out of control, trying to make sense of ... of what?
Had I had a nightmare? Disjointed images slipped from my mind’s grasp.
Maybe one too many red wines last night combined with the Chinese take away had produced a lethal combination leading to the side effect of extreme nightmares.
Maybe they should put warnings on the takeaway containers—Danger! Do not combine with Shiraz.
‘Jason. Wake up!’
I pushed his shoulder. He instantly came to life and sprang out of bed.
‘Run, Maggie! Run!’ he shouted.
He caught a foot in the bedding and hit the deck with a sickening thud. It was a spectacular face plant and I feared for his safety.
‘Where am I?’ he groaned. His face appeared over the end of the bed, a bruise already developing in the middle of his forehead.
‘It appears we’re at home in bed,’ I said. ‘You obviously had nightmares too.’
I helped him off the floor, and we staggered out to the kitchen to make coffee.
Jason scratched his head. ‘The last thing I remember is we’d come home from work, picked up Chinese, a good bottle of red, and after dinner didn't we take the dog for a walk?’
‘I can't remember. It’s so strange. Maybe there was something in the wine. I feel displaced.’
‘What time is it?’ he said, rubbing his eyes. ‘Let’s go out for breakfast. I'm starving.’
‘Clock says eight. We're up early for a Saturday.’
‘I'll duck around to the milk bar for the paper,’ he said. ‘You have a shower and then we'll go. A good breakfast is what we need. I feel like I’ve run a marathon.’
I made coffee and sat at the kitchen table, too tired to move. My brain tried in vain to find a memory that made sense.
Jason returned with the paper, his face as pale as a ghost.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘The milk bar was about to close. I was lucky to get a paper.’
‘Closing? They should be opening. Were they robbed again?’
‘They were closing because it’s eight o’clock, Sunday night.’
‘No, it’s Saturday.’
Jason turned on the television and Sixty Minutes, a Sunday night staple, was just finishing. Peter Harvey—looking like we felt—was wrapping up the mailbag.
The newspaper in Jason’s hand was the Sunday paper.
My brain was tired of reeling, but it reeled some more.
We had lost two whole days.
Worse, they were weekend days, and I had to go back to work tomorrow.
That seemed to be a fact more shocking than anything else, right at the moment.
‘I think,’ Jason said, slumping in a chair, ‘we may have been abducted by aliens.’ A lock of sandy hair fell across his forehead, and he stared at me through it, his eyes wide and worried.
‘Well, if we have, they could’ve done it during the week. Those aliens really are nasty pieces of work.’
[3]
Chapter 4: The Beginning
The screen saver on my twenty-seven-inch iMac ran through the seven National Geographic images three times before I tapped the keyboard. There was programming to be done, a contract to fulfill, but I wasn’t in the mood. The missing time played on my mind. What had happened to us? Why couldn’t we remember? Would we ever be able to remember? Loose ends annoyed me.
I took out some old receipts from my oversized wallet and shredded them. Clicking on iTunes, I selected a playlist—Classical Music for Exam Study. I cranked up Bach. Nope—not doing it for me. Time Bomb by Beck. That was more in tune with the vibe running through my brain.
“We got a time bomb. We got a time bomb. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.”
Boo was asleep on the couch in my office. She opened an eye.
‘Yes, I know, I’m procrastinating. It’s what I do.’
‘Phffft!’ she sneezed back.
Opening another part of my wallet, I pulled out a pile of papers from a section where I shoved anything important. A piece of pink paper caught my eye. It was the printout of the online ad I’d posted s
ix years ago. The one which led me to Jason. I unfolded the paper and read it.
“Maggie #7345 Kind soul seeks kind soul.
Me: I don’t talk a lot. I look pretty good, I’ve been told. I like my own company. I’m not demanding or clingy. I have my own life but want to share it with a kindred spirit. I’m a computer geek, love animals, nature and a quiet life. I need someone who listens, and gets me. Oh, and I’m psychic, so don’t even try to bullshit me. My favourite food is egg and chips. You: Honest. Truthful. Kind. That’s a good start.’
It made me cringe to read it now. But the ad worked. It brought Jason into my life. I folded and returned it to my wallet. I picked up another piece of pink paper. ‘Boo, here’s the ad Jason wrote!’
Boo rolled her open eyeball at me and shut it.
‘Don’t be like that, Boo. I’ll read it to you.’
“Jason #9261 R U the one?
I’m honest, truthful and kind. I’m a plumber who hates football. Let’s get that out there upfront. I’m looking for a woman who is independent and low maintenance. Someone I can share my life with. I love motorbikes, animals, landscaping, nature. I’m six foot one and people say I’m good looking.”
‘Phhht!’ Boo opened both eyes, leaned back on the couch and stared at me fixedly.
‘See, I thought you’d be interested.’
I remembered Jason telling me later on that he thought his ad was pathetic. But he liked mine, and the fact we had things in common—egg and chips being one of them. He said he liked women who didn’t talk a lot too. I remembered him saying my description intrigued him and my photo stole his soul. He plucked up the courage and sent me an email.
‘He’s poetic for a plumber don’t you think, Boo?’
He said he couldn’t stop looking at my photo. He reckoned I could double for Snow White, with the long dark hair, white skin and red lips. The only difference he said was I had green eyes, rather than blue.
I told him my pale skin—he called it a snow-white tan—was due to years of computer gaming. The fact I was at the top of my league in ‘first person shooter’ category impressed him.
After our first meeting, Jason wrote me a letter. The first love letter he’d ever written apparently. He wanted to prove to me he did listen, and he did “get me”.
I unfolded the letter and spread it out on the desk. Boo locked on to me with a fixed stare, her big brown eyes bored into mine. She seemed interested. Boo and I had many conversations—she was a good listener.
The letter read:
Dear Maggie, when I walked into the café you were tapping away on your laptop. You looked up and our eyes connected. Green eyes met blue.
Click.
That was it for me. I heard it in my head and felt it in my body—a key turning in a lock.
You jumped. I knew you felt it too.
I sat and learned more about you—the person I’d fallen for at first sight. We talked until the café closed and they had to throw us out. That’s never happened to me before.
I learned we both loved coffee, food and good wine. I noticed you had a healthy appetite. I liked that in a woman. You’ve got curves in all the right places and you look hot.
You told me about your psychic abilities and how things could get a bit weird around you. No worries at all—my Grandmother was psychic too. I experienced supernatural events whilst staying at her house in England. She had a couple of resident ghosts and I saw them on occasion. Gran taught me how to see auras. I’m not very good at it, but when the lights are low and conditions are right, sometimes I can see them quite clearly.
You said you inherited your psychic abilities from your mother, and having too many people around feels like an assault. Your psychic sensitivity has forced you into more solo pastimes. I wanted to let you know that’s okay with me. I’m not big on crowds of people.
I found out you work from home developing software, and your dog, Boo, is never far from your side. You love animals. You said they don’t give off bad static like people. I agree, and I love animals too.
You play classical music when you game and I found your iPod’s playlist diverse, to say the least—I loved it. I’ve never met anyone like you Maggie McLaine, and your eyes … I’m bewitched. The moment our eyes met—that was it for me. I’d fallen hard.
Afterwards, back at your place, it felt like all the stars had aligned to bring us together. I’m not scared to say it. I have to say it, and in writing. I reckon we’re meant to be.
The depth of feeling I have for you is beyond words, so it sounds lame just to say—I love you, Maggie McLaine. But I do, and will, always. Jason.
‘How romantic and beautiful is that, Boo?’
Boo cocked her head and stared at me. It was a look that said: Are you going to stop talking anytime soon?
I remembered the day Jason and I first met like it was yesterday. I’d hoped he wasn’t going to be late. It was getting close to ten in the morning. I was never late and didn’t like to be kept waiting. We’d be off to a very bad start if that happened. So, with five minutes to go I was nervous. I started counting the people in the café. What the hell was I thinking with this online dating thing? I didn’t get out much. I was always on a computer. But at the time, it had seemed like the logical thing to do.
I’d flicked through the online photos with my eyes closed, tuning into the energy of the images. A pulse of energy spiked into my body. My fingers tingled and my heart raced. I opened my eyes to see which photo had caused such a reaction. It was Jason.
I liked the look of him. He had beautiful eyes, intense like a hawk. A shock of sandy blond hair fell across his forehead. He had high cheekbones, a serious look about him, and was handsome in an interesting way. In another photo he sported a wide, crazy grin which made me smile just looking at it.
At four minutes to ten, I sensed his presence in the café. I looked up straight into his blue eyes. The sight of him made my heart pound. And the energy from him—I could barely speak or breathe. In the end we talked for hours, an easy ebb and flow. He didn’t make my head hurt like so many others. He seemed uncomplicated. Uncomplicated was good.
It was late when the café owner closed the door behind us. Jason took my hand and I felt my knees go weak from his touch. I’d never believed in beating around the bush so I said, ‘I’d like you to come back to my place for coffee, and coffee doesn’t have to mean coffee, but of course, if you want coffee, you can have some. I have a machine. A coffee machine, I mean, but if you didn’t want coffee, we could keep talking and—’
He stopped my nervous babble with a passionate and intoxicating kiss. He held me as my knees gave way.
That evening our minds and bodies merged in sexual bliss beyond anything I’d ever experienced.
‘You remember the first night don’t you, Boo, when I put you out of the room?’
In response to my question, Boo shoved her head under a cushion.
I laughed. ‘Don’t be like that. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You know Jason and I are made for each other.’
I remembered how at home he was in my kitchen. He made me egg and chips for breakfast, just for fun, and because he knew it was my favourite. It didn’t get any better than that. I was in love.
‘We were never apart from then on were we, Boo?’ Boo sat up from behind the cushion and seemed to nod in agreement.
Jason introduced me to all his friends, except for his best mate, Ashley, who was on deployment in Iraq. In a strange twist, it was only later I found out I’d been dating the exact same Ashley. We’d met when I was living in Sydney, working on a one year contract. Ashley had broken it off when he had to go fight in Iraq. I was crushed. He said he didn’t want me to wait, and I should move on with my life. And the funny thing is, I did—with Jason.
I only found out they were best mates when Ashley showed up at Jason’s front door eighteen months later on return from his deployment. Talk about awkward. Ashley still laughs remembering the look on my face when I answe
red the door. The expression on his face was priceless too—a mixture of shock, confusion and joy. Anyways, Ashley was pretty screwed up after his deployment. He went off the rails with booze, drugs and women. We saved his life twice, helped him back from the abyss. It was awkward for a while, but now the three of us are closer than family.
I found it liberating Jason accepted my psychic nature and eccentricities. He’d even got used to all the visiting spirits and strange occurrences in our house. On occasion, he would see spirits too.
‘He was like you, Boo. It freaked him out at first, but now he’s used to it.’
Boo nodded at me and cocked her head. She could see entities and would alert me with a high-pitched yap.
I jumped as Boo let rip with that exact same special yap. She leapt off the couch and barked frantically at the window. On the railing of the deck was a large black blob with baleful yellow eyes.
What the hell was that?
I moved to the window to have a closer look. It was a cat. But it was the blackest of black cats I’d ever seen. It was so black it sucked in the light, making it hard to fathom any detail. Boo was frantic and scratched at the glass door, wanting to get out and see the thing off. Neither of us were cat fans. For me it was because they decimated the wildlife, for Boo—well, she just hated them.
‘There’s no way I’m letting you out, Boo. That cat’s like a baby panther. It’ll scratch your eyes out.’
I banged on the glass. ‘Shoo! Bugger off!’
In response, the cat flattened its body and ears, and black almond shaped pupils grew larger as it fixed me with its lantern eyes.
A loud rumble issued from the neighbour’s motorbike … um, wait, no … it was the cat!
Whaa Oooh Whaa Oooh Snort Whaa Oooh Whaa Oooh Snort Grrrrr.
The ominous guttural growl rose and fell in pitch, reaching a crescendo of a scream like yowl. The cat drew back and opened its mouth to reveal large white fangs and a pink tongue which curled between its teeth as it hissed at us like a mad snake.