Heather heard a noise and looked toward the spot where her father lay dying. He was moving and Heather’s heart fi lled with love for him as she sent God a silent prayer of thanks. He wasn’t dead. She wasn’t alone.
Her father dragged himself into a position where he could see them better and Heather waved at him with a weak smile. The look in his eyes told her that he understood what she had to do and the acknowledgment made her less lonely and more confi dent.
Jade was groaning and Heather’s hope took a beating.
She couldn’t do anything to take away her sister’s pain.
All she could offer her was her comfort and presence.
Heather shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out a tightly closed fi st. Without hesitation, she opened her fi ngers, sore from untying Jade’s ropes, and stuck the contents in her mouth. As she chewed the tiny blue tablets, the strong medicinal taste shared itself with each and every taste bud. The pastor looked as though he were preparing for a ceremony of some kind as he lit one black candle after another and chanted in a language she’d never heard
Heather recoiled from the bitter taste and worked hard to produce the saliva she needed to swallow them all. As she prepared to swallow her last Xanax, she looked over at Jade, still groaning on the pew and knew the moment 296
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had come. It was the moment she had known was coming and deciphering reality was becoming more diffi cult.
She remembered John and Sandra’s words about entering the parallel grid. They had warned her against cheating but Heather didn’t have the time or opportunity for deep meditation. The grid was where the truth lived and she knew she couldn’t help her family unless she traveled through the nightmare. Heather did the only thing she could. Her nephew needed a chance. His existence spoke of her sister’s signifi cance to the world and she needed to live to teach and to love her son. The stalker had been right. Heather held the power in her hands alone.
“What do you want?” The shriek peeled from her throat without warning.
“I want for you to hate the world, Heather,” he answered. “I want for you to hate it so much that you never want to come back. Is that so much to ask?”
He turned his back to her and continued to light the black candles. She heard him murmur something that sounded like “Remember the pain, Heather.”
Thoughts of the world as Heather had known it unfolded within her brain. She saw the memories as they passed through the space in her mind and she felt a great empathy for humankind. She felt the pain they faced and she suffered along with them each time she watched the news or was panhandled by a homeless man.
She felt a new awareness creeping in and realized that each human is destined to experience pain and loss.
It is the nature of life. There is a balance. There’s no love 297
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without hate; no joy without pain; no life without death.
Each of them pays the price of death despite the kind of life they live. They must face the death of family, of people they loved. Each and every human faces morality and eventually, mortality. All wear new scars as they enter the next moment of their lives.
Heather felt dizzy and wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She was waiting for the sleepiness to take over so she could enter the grid and she decided she couldn’t get there fast enough. She preferred to face whatever hid behind the doors of her nightmares than spend another minute with Pastor Eric.
Heather sat on the fl oor beside Jade’s pew. She caressed her sister’s face and one of her tears fell on her sister’s cheek. Heather took her hand into hers and squeezed reassuringly.
“It’s gonna be okay, Jade,” she whispered, smiling.
Jade responded by squeezing her hand tightly as she fought another oncoming contraction. When it passed, Heather stood up and staggered over to her father. She could feel the effects of the medication in her knees as they wobbled and threatened to drop her.
She kneeled beside her dad and placed a hand on his cheek. He was losing a lot of blood and he appeared so weak. Heather didn’t know where he had been shot.
She only knew that a solid lump formed inside her throat when she realized she was lying in her father’s blood.
The time had come. Heather knew that she had to stand up and walk away from him forever. She leaned 298
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forward and touched her lips to his cheek and closed her eyes as she rose from the fl oor.
A loud scraping sound made her open them as she jerked her head toward the source of the noise. Pastor Eric had pulled Jade into a chair and she was fi ghting off each of his efforts to help get her seated. Heather knew he was preparing to kill both her sister and nephew and she prayed desperately for the drugs to work faster. She had swallowed many pills and she knew a coma was ready to take hold. She just needed for it to go faster. Finally, the anxiety medication began to soothe her nerves and to comfort her with its poison and its lies.
She pushed away the tears that threatened to choke her words. She walked back over to Jade and stood over her smiling.
“I’ve loved you so much, Jade. Please tell my boys that they made even the worst days of my life worth living.”
Jade’s expression turned to one of understanding and sadness.
“Please don’t, Heather,” she cried.
“I don’t want to share this nightmare with you, Jade.
Your purpose is to be here and to give birth to your baby.
Mine is to go away now. I don’t know why but it’s what I’m supposed to do.”
She touched Jade’s stomach and forced a smile. They shared the last tears they would ever share together.
Heather knew she had taken enough medication that she wouldn’t be back.
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“I’m not leaving forever, you know,” she whispered to Jade.
“What do you mean?” Jade cried and Heather felt guilty at the false hope she had just nurtured.
“I mean, I’ll be back. I’ve always told you that. If you look for me, you’ll fi nd me.”
Heather embraced her sister and felt herself weaken as her body absorbed the drug. She grabbed onto the closest pew to prevent herself from falling but it was too late. She tumbled to the fl oor and lay helpless and awake with immobile legs chaining her to the danger.
The blood drained from her face when she looked up and realized her pastor had erected a tall wooden cross behind the pulpit. Straps were attached for the hands and feet and a medical tray sat nearby, threatening onlookers with cutting instruments, needles and liquids. A dirty cot with rope, handcuffs and a spiked leather belt draped across it took up another corner.
As Heather said a silent prayer, Pastor Eric stopped chanting and stared at her lying on the fl oor. She didn’t know if he were assessing the situation or if he could hear her prayers.
“You’re looking a little unsteady there. Let me help you,” he mused. He started walking slowly toward her.
Heather felt the medication shutting down her nervous system and she could feel each organ dying. She knew that taking the pills would allow her time in the dream world as opposed to a gunshot to the head which would shoot her straight into the world of the dead. She was 300
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worried about whether or not she would fall out before her Pastor Eric pulled her sister from the pew and nailed her to the cross. She had new knowledge but she wasn’t sure where it was coming from.
As the pastor got closer, Heather tried to remember all that she had learned about a shared dream. She felt his hand on her wrist as the pastor pulled her gently up from the fl oor. There was concern in his eyes and seeing it gave Heather the jolt of courage she needed.
“What did you do?” he asked nervously.
It was her turn to smile. She was losing focus but she didn’t lose her smile.
“See you soon,” she whispered.
She closed her eyes with the strongest thoughts of her stalker that she could conjure up as she telepathically invited him into her dream. It was her only way. It was where the truth lived and the truth was all that could save them all. Heather’s eyes closed as she fell into unconsciousness.
When she opened them again, her pastor was gone and she was no longer in the church. She was home in her living room and she had a cigarette dangling from her lips.
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Chapter 24
Like A Stone
Heather stood just inside the front door of her house.
When she felt the cigarette between her lips, she inhaled deeply and invited the sweet toxins into her lungs. She pulled back a small section of the mini-blinds to allow herself a view of the street. All she knew for certain was that she was waiting for someone.
She had been plunged into the deepest part of a dream and thought she may as well have snorted a fat line because she was more aware of her own thoughts than she had ever been in her life. Being so in tune was a feeling that was alien to her. Awareness was a gift she had once been blessed with and had somehow lost. Heather missed it dearly.
She glanced around the room with trepidation. She was in her own living room but the furniture looked different. Chairs and lamps sat in the wrong places and the walls were decorated differently than in real life. It reminded her of Sandra’s statement about things 302
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appearing different in the dream and she was afraid to go further into the house.
Candles were lit and had been scattered throughout the house. When Heather looked down, she realized she was dressed in lingerie. Her sheer pink top offered more cleavage than not and a blood red t-back told her that she expected sex and soon. Heather knew there could only be one co-star to such a seductive scene and she wasn’t at all surprised. When she had willed the stalker into her dream, Heather pretty much assumed it would be Billy who showed up.
She peeked outside in search of a black truck but the street was quiet and still. Heather walked slowly toward the kitchen as she took a long drag from her cigarette. She realized she was wearing stilettos when she tripped with her fi rst step and almost fell through a glass coffee table.
She grabbed onto the edge of her entertainment center just in time and straightened herself out.
Heather walked over to the counters and pressed her hands fl at against the cold tile. Memories of Billy shot themselves into her awareness and she didn’t fi ght it. She knew it was time to face him. It was time to face all of the decisions she had made. It was the moment she had been waiting for her entire life. Heather looked up at the wall and stared blankly at the clock. It was 11:11 and by the daylight shining through the blinds, she knew it was still morning.
Heather stared at the dining room table and thought of the things he’d done to her there. She remembered how 303
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he had instructed her to remember that night while she was cooking dinner. She turned her attention toward the hallway and tried to rally what courage she had left. She realized she only had enough for two steps when she stopped abruptly at the scraping noises coming from the bedroom. She listened closely to the silence that followed before braving a few more steps down the hallway and ducking into the bathroom.
Heather closed the door and looked around the small room. She stood before the mirror that carried her deepest secrets and focused on the eyes that stared back.
Gradually, her image faded and a little girl appeared. It was still Heather’s refl ection but it didn’t refl ect the woman she was. The eyes that stared were those of a nine year old. Both love and terror tied the race for lead emotion.
“Can you hear me?” asked her child self. Her whisper was soft and it had the tinny pitch of a child. Hearing herself speak made Heather want to cry. She wanted to reach in, grab herself and re-teach her everything. She wanted to hug her little self and tell her that everything would be all right.
“I hear you,” she whispered to Heather, the girl.
Nervous laughter came warbling out of her throat and she had to keep reminding herself to keep a watchful eye on the balance of her roles as participant and observer.
“Is he here?” she asked the child.
“Yes, but be careful,” the little Heather warned. “It’s easy to get lost in there.”
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She wanted to tell herself not to be scared but she couldn’t. As an adult, she was terrifi ed. Heather pressed her fi ngers to the glass and smiled. When her smaller refl ection did the same, Heather felt as though she had found the little girl she left at the Vermont chalet. The image faded and Heather still touched the glass, trying to fi ll herself with the courage and hope she knew as a little girl. She left the bathroom and paused at her bedroom door, repeating the mantra that had pulled her through so many bad times.
“Eleven-eleven – my call to heaven,” she said silently as she pushed the door open.
Heather wasn’t sure who was there but she feared the heavy thumping of her heart might give her away. The pounding jarred her so hard it threatened her footing. The sound reminded her of the incessant beating in A Telltale Heart. The courageous part of her worked to propel her body further in the room while the logical part fought the decision.
The caricature of her and Jade at the Minnesota State Fair peeked out at her from its frame. It sat on her dresser, inspiring humor in all who looked at it. Her little sister’s cheekbones had been enhanced to a ridiculous degree and her squinty smile made her face look goofy. The artist had even more fun with the worry lines he drew between Heather’s eyes. The extreme pull in her forehead gave her the perpetual look of a spastic lunatic. In real life, the picture sat on her bedroom dresser. In the dream, it was 305
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lying on her bed. Heather sat down on the bed and never saw it coming when a fi st slammed into her temple.
When she opened her eyes, a blurry and confusing scene had drawn itself out on the canvas of her dream.
Her head hurt and her fi rst instinct was to determine the location of her enemy. The mission didn’t take her long because he couldn’t have been closer. Billy sat above her, straddling her torso and looking down with a grin. She was surprised to realize that the groaning she heard was her own and she assumed it came from the painful throbbing in so many parts of her body. She looked at Billy with deep hatred.
“I can’t believe you hit me,” she said.
Tears betrayed her as they raced down her cheeks.
The blow hurt but not as much as the fact that Billy was the one who delivered it. She couldn’t guess, even if her life ended up depending on it, what she did to make anyone despise her so much. Billy shook his head and laughed.
“If you’re this upset about a punch, you’re gonna be really pissed in a few minutes,” he laughed. Heather couldn’t think of a scarier thing to hear until she heard the clink of metal. His hand came into view and she saw that it was clutching a knife. Billy drew it slowly through the air as though he were wishing it were her fl esh.
Heather felt her eyes widen and imagined she looked like the typical pre-murder victim with her lids wide open, her irises expanded, and her pupils fi lled with disbelief. Billy hovered above her, grinning and mocking 306
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her. Though her instincts screamed for her to fi ght, the shiny blade told her to keep her mouth shut.
“What’s wrong?” he teased.
Billy looked at the weapon in his own hand with forced innocence.
“You not afraid of this, are you?” he taunted.
She hated him so much. She refused to answer his question.
With a tentative expression, Billy morphed fi rst into the face of her stalker, then into the body of Pastor Eric, blue eyes and all. When his eyes darkened and settled into a deep brown, she knew he was returning to Billy.
>
His lashes grew longer and the shape of his face became thinner. His hair shortened into the stylish spiky cut that she knew well. Billy was back.
“Didn’t you know, Heather?” Billy asked. “I mean, deep down, didn’t you know?”
“No,” she answered as she shook her head back and forth.
“Yes, you did,” he smiled. “You knew it was wrong.
You always knew it was wrong.”
At fi rst, Heather thought he was talking about their affair but then sensed there was something else, something she didn’t understand yet. A vision of the two of them making love fl oated by on a small cloud. Heather reached out and tried to grab the vision but her hand went right through the white snowy mass.
Another cloud by fl oated by carrying another vision but it was one Heather didn’t remember. She and Billy 307
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were sharing an apple under a tree and she knew that had never occurred in her current lifetime. The vision brought forth happy feelings and Heather began to wonder if she and Billy had shared more than one life together.
She looked into his eyes and a raw, cold realization seeped in. She had been intimate with a man who ended up being both her minister and her stalker. It was Billy who had followed her and attacked her throughout her lifetime. It was Billy who had tortured her. It was Billy, as Pastor Eric, who told her that he wanted for her to hate life and there had to be a reason why. Heather wondered what she could have done to him, whomever he really was, to instill such fury and hatred.
“You’re right, Billy,” she said softly. “I did know it was wrong and I did it anyway.”
He smiled down at her and his expression of rage turned to one of pity.
“You screw it up every time,” he said shaking his head.
“Screw what up? What do you mean every time?”
“You seduced me. You used your power, your eyes, your body. The sin began in your heart. I just took what you offered.”
Heather was stunned and she didn’t respond. She knew that Billy wasn’t talking about their affair or about anything in this lifetime for that matter. She tried to utilize every bit of recall she was capable of but the memory still eluded her.
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