by Elena Carter
Tina took another deep breath, got up, and walked to the window. She opened it and let the fresh air in, closing her eyes for a minute. The night breeze filled the room, sending shivers down her spine, but also bringing in some much-needed oxygen and freshness. The sky was clear, lit by a half moon and a handful of bright stars scattered across its black surface.
Tina returned to the kitchen table. She glanced at the two empty glasses and reached for a bottle of wine on one of the corner shelves. She filled one glass, paused, and then filled the second one.
“Cheers.” She raised her glass and took a sip.
“Okay, Tina. Now, you will get a grip. You’re gonna go to the bedroom and get your phone. And then you will come back here, have your wine, and think. Thinking is better than having a meltdown, right?”
This time, hearing her own voice didn’t make her jump. It brought some relief and calmness. She took another sip of wine and headed to the bedroom.
After returning to the kitchen with the phone in her hand, Tina sat down at the table. She put the phone next to the glass and looked at it.
A part of her thought that maybe the impossible message wouldn’t be there. It could have been a part of her dream, meaning there was nothing to stress about. That thought had brought contradictory feelings—one of relief, and the other of disappointment.
She tapped the screen and it lit up. The message was still there.
Tina flinched, but didn’t remove her gaze off the screen. She reached for the glass, taking a big gulp, while looking at the two words on the screen with her late husband’s name above them.
“Easy for you to say. Don’t fear,” she sneered. “Well, I am afraid. I’m terrified. And confused. And mad. And … I don’t know what else. But most of all, confused.” She bit her lip. “What are you trying to tell me, Greg? Huh? Is it even you, or is it my madness? Am I going crazy? Am I hallucinating? Should I see a doctor?”
Tears burned her eyes. It was getting hard to breathe. She blinked several times, and forced herself to take a deep breath.
“I hope it’s you, Greg. All those nights … the ones where I cried my eyes out and begged you to at least visit me in my dreams. You have no idea, honey. You have no idea how much I miss you. How much I wish that it really is you texting me, even though it’s impossible and freaking me out.”
She finished her wine with a big gulp and poured some more. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother wiping them.
“I don’t know what to believe, Greg. But I’m ready. I’m ready to believe anything—any fucking weird miracle—to have a chance to talk to you again. I’ve been talking to you for months, but this is the first time you’ve said something to me. It was you, wasn’t it, honey? It’s not someone’s stupid joke, right? Because I wouldn’t be able to take it. I’m tired of being strong. You know what, I’m not even that strong after all. Everybody thinks I am because I pretend.”
She reached for a tissue.
“But I’m tired of pretending. I’m broken inside, Greg. Just broken. And I don’t think anyone or anything can fix me. Maybe I should accept it and give up. But instead I end up chasing birds in my dreams. Do you know why, Greg? Because I want to believe in miracles and that something good can happen to me.”
She blew her nose and took a swig of wine.
“Don’t I deserve it? Don’t I deserve something good for a change? I’m not a bad person. God, I sound pathetic! I hate myself, and I feel sorry for myself, and that makes me hate myself even more. Welcome to Tina’s pity party.”
Tina burst out sobbing.
The screen of her phone lit up, making her jump and shocking the tears into stopping. But it was a low battery notification.
She took a deep breath and wiped her face with a tissue. Her eyes were sore.
She walked over to the kitchen sink to splash some cold water on her face, and then pulled several tissues out of the box to pat it dry. The simple procedures made her feel a little better.
After catching her breath, she poured the rest of the wine into her glass and plodded to stand by the open window, looking at the night sky while sipping her drink.
She felt empty, light, somewhat relieved, and tired, as she usually did after crying. Like everything had been washed out from inside her, only to be refilled again later. It was a temporary relief, she knew. All the feelings and emotions would come back and take their places, curling up comfortably in the deepest corners of her soul. But that would be later. She didn’t think she’d go back to bed after what happened, but all the crying was taking its toll. Her eyelids were growing heavy.
She finished her wine and put the empty glass in the sink. Passing the table, she paused to glance at the second glass that was waiting for someone who wouldn’t come, just like she’d been waiting for the last six months.
She picked up her phone and went to the bedroom.
She plugged in her phone, switched off the light, snuggled beneath the blanket, and reached under her pillow to check the amethyst was there. Touching the stone’s smooth polished surface, she closed her eyes and whispered, “I’m ready.”
“I don’t understand.” Tina sat on the couch in Alice’s living room, hugging one of the cushions and sobbing. A box of tissues rested near her on the coffee table.
“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “It’s just not fair.” She’d been crying for a while and barely had any energy left.
“You need to calm down, my dear. This will not help, trust me,” Alice said, pouring some herbal tea into Tina’s cup. “When you need to make a choice between crying and tea, my advice is to pick tea. Just saying …” Alice sounded serious, but there were twinkles in her eyes.
“Thank you.” Tina leaned over to pick up her cup off the table. “Smells really nice.”
“Lavender. It’s known for its calming effect.”
“I love lavender.” Tina took a sip and sighed. “Alice, I’m sorry …”
“For what, dear?” Alice put the kettle on the table and sat down.
“For having a meltdown.” Tina looked away.
“I don’t see anyone having a meltdown. I see a girl who’s upset, confused, and maybe a little bit scared.”
“All of that, plus a little bit angry.”
“At?”
“At … I don’t know. Just angry. It’s not fair, you know? This whole thing is driving me crazy. First, all this weird craziness is happening to me, and it freaks me out, and then, when I’m ready and waiting for it, there’s nothing. Nothing! Not a single dream! I close my eyes, then I open my eyes several hours later. That’s it.” She ripped a tissue out of the box and blew her nose.
Alice sighed, looking at Tina with compassion.
“It’s like a bad joke. Like someone is making fun of me. But who? How? Why? And the text. And the water on my bed! Am I going crazy, Alice? Am I even making any sense?”
“My dear, I understand where you’re coming from. You’re not going crazy, and it’s nobody’s joke. I know this all can be overwhelming at first, but trust me. Everything is okay. As a matter of fact, everything is great.”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, if you ask me.” Tina forced a smile. Alice’s calm and confident tone was making her feel better. “But I guess I’ll take your word for it. What do I do?”
“You wipe your tears, smile, and drink your lavender tea. Add some honey, if you want. It will soothe your throat after all the crying.” Alice pointed at the small glass bowl filled with honey perched on the table next to the teapot.
Tina reached for the spoon.
“A few months from now, you will laugh at this,” Alice said. “Everything will be different. You will be different.”
“Good different or bad different?”
“Different is just different.” Alice shrugged. “The terms good and bad are pretty much useless because it all depends on the point of view. Don’t worry about it right now, though. You are about to open the door to a whole new world. Well, multiple wo
rlds, actually. It’s a chance of a lifetime.”
Tina listened carefully. She was confused but curious at the same time.
“What I think happened,” Alice said, “was that you got too scared. You weren’t ready.”
“Ready for what?” Tina raised her brow.
“To open that door.” Alice smiled. “Not to peek through, but to open it wide and step over the threshold.”
“What exactly is this door? I don’t understand.”
“Let’s say, there are an infinite number of worlds out there. Realities, dimensions, universes—call them whatever you want. What if you were made aware of the possibility to travel to some of them? To see them from the inside. To interact with their inhabitants. And all you needed to do was close your eyes.”
“Sounds like a cool idea for a book or a movie.” Tina scoffed.
“Well, imagine you are living in that book while writing it at the same time. You are the author and the main character. You choose where to go and what to do—what roads to take, and what fascinating realities to check out next. All you have to do is walk through a door.”
“Is it that simple?” Tina asked.
“Honestly? No, it isn’t.” Alice shrugged. “Not even close. At least, not for me. As I told you, I’m still on my journey. I’m still learning. But the fact remains, it’s possible to travel to those worlds. Especially when they’ve expressed their desire to see you and sent you a guide.”
“A guide?” Tina wrinkled her forehead, shifting in her seat.
“Your hummingbird. It’s your guide, I believe.”
“Oh, I thought you were talking about yourself.”
“Technically, I am too, sort of. I can guide and help you in this world. At least while I’m still here.”
Tina blinked several times in confusion, fiddling with a tissue in her hand.
“We can help each other,” Alice continued. “As soon as I introduce the main concept to you, we’ll be more like fellow travelers. The only difference is I have a bit more experience. But it’s not always the trump card.”
“What is, then?”
“It all depends on how much the worlds want you. I have no idea why they choose certain people or what the criteria is, if any, but some people are welcome, and others aren’t.”
“So, the fact I didn’t have any dreams at all, when I went back to sleep, means they don’t want me? I’m not welcome anymore?” Tina threw the tissue on the table and reached for another one.
“No, my dear. If they didn’t want you, they wouldn’t have opened the doors even for a quick glance, but they showed you a lot. Maybe even too much for a beginner.”
“But why? Why was there nothing all of a sudden?”
“Because you weren’t ready. It was enough for one day. Plus, the way you reacted …”
“What do you mean? How was I supposed to react?” Tina put the crumpled tissue down and clasped her hands.
“Your heart was full of fear, sorrow, and anger, which is a heavy burden. Traveling among these worlds is like flying. Imagine trying to fly when you’ve got heavy weights chained to your ankles.”
“Well, I don’t usually fly … with or without the weights.” Tina chuckled.
“You know what I mean.” Alice laughed. “What I’m trying to say is that when traveling to these places, your heart and mind need to be clear, open, and light. Dulling your pain with wine is not anywhere near clearing your mind.”
“I know.” Tina sighed. “I understand. I hate that I was such an emotional wreck.”
“Will you stop being so hard on yourself? You were scared, confused, and lonely. The pain of your loss is eating your heart alive, and you need to let it out once in a while. You need to cry. It doesn’t make you a wreck. It just means those times might not be the best for traveling to other worlds. And a good night of sleep is what you need instead.”
“It makes perfect sense when you explain it like that.” Tina nodded. “I guess I needed some rest. And all the wine on top … I just really hoped I would—”
“See Greg. I know.”
Tina shivered at the sound of his name. “Yes, you’re right. That’s all I wanted. And when it didn’t happen, I thought he didn’t want to see me. Stupid, I know.”
“It is.” Alice reached for her cup. “If he didn’t want to see you, he wouldn’t have arranged any of that, would he?”
“What do you mean?” Tina held her breath and worried her lip, afraid to miss a single word of what Alice was saying.
“I’m pretty sure it was his idea to open the door for you. To show you what’s out there, and that he is out there. He is your guide, Tina. And he’s waiting for you.”
Tina decided to take a day off.
She called Natalie and Mike to tell them she was all right but wouldn’t be in touch for a day or two, and that they shouldn’t worry about her.
She felt like she was going on a trip. Excited and nervous at the same time.
She thoroughly cleaned the house, aired it, checked the fridge for any food that needed to be disposed of, and did the laundry. She didn’t want to be distracted by thinking about the unfinished chores; she wanted to have a clear mind and clean surroundings. She also wanted to wear herself out so she could relax in the evening because she didn’t feel like sleeping at all, and she was becoming more and more anxious about it as the night approached.
The problem was, she didn’t know how to relax. Thoughts raced through her head at high speed, and in several different directions at the same time. Her heart pounded like she’d overdosed on energy drinks. It was pretty useful for all the housework, but after she was done, she had to find a way to calm down.
Tina made herself a cup of mint tea and sat in front of her computer. She typed “how to clear your mind” in the search bar of the browser. The first article was 8 Ways to Clear Your Mind of Stress. It suggested talking to a friend, reading a book, journaling or punching a bag. Among the advice was the suggestion to take some time to meditate.
Tina was never good at meditating. She knew it was powerful, and good, and much needed, but every time she tried to concentrate and calm her mind, she got carried away by a million thoughts and musings and worries. She’d end up feeling guilty for her failure.
When she used to take yoga classes, she’d be the first one to fall asleep during Savasana, which was not the desired result. Plus, she felt embarrassed because she thought she might have been snoring in front of the group.
However, she decided to give it a try once again. She finished her tea, washed the cup, and retrieved the yoga mat from the far corner of the closet. After doing a set of Sun Salutations, followed by several different stretches, she lay down and closed her eyes.
She took a few deep breaths and tried to relax every muscle in her body, working up from the toes and finally letting go of all the tension in her facial muscles.
She imagined she was lying in a boat that was floating down a river, all while looking at the sky. As the clouds and occasional bird passed by, she imagined they were her thoughts—they were there, and they were real, but they didn’t stay with her. She acknowledged them, accepted them, and let them go. She lay there motionless, the sun’s rays and a light breeze caressing her skin as water splashed around her.
After a while, her heart rate had significantly slowed, her breathing became calm, and even her eyelids became heavier.
Before she knew it, she drifted off.
Tina recognized the street she was on. It was one of her favorite shopping streets in town. But there was something wrong about it.
It was usually full of people, activity, and sounds on any day of the week.
Not this time, though. The street was completely empty. All the shops were there, but the doors weren’t open. There were no cars parked or passing. Even the air wasn’t moving.
The feeling made Tina very uncomfortable.
She struggled to determine what time of day it was. There was daylight, and she could see everything.
No lights were on in the windows. But it didn’t feel like daytime. She stared at the sky, trying to see where the sun was, but the sky was gray.
Tina started walking down the street. She passed a small Italian restaurant where she used to have a cup of coffee once in a while. Its tables were outside with small flower arrangements on each one, but not a single soul occupied the seats.
As if everybody disappeared, Tina thought.
She shrugged and kept moving.
Passing a Chinese souvenir shop, she noticed that the lanterns and wind chimes hanging outside weren’t moving. She stopped and looked at them for a moment, wanting to reach out and touch them. However, an instinct told her not to.
She shivered. There was something wrong about the image of motionless lanterns.
She realized that not only was there no wind or even slightest movement of air, she couldn’t feel the air at all. She raised her hands, one by one, and studied them closely. She couldn’t feel anything—not even the air—as she moved.
Fear crept into her, making her hair stand on end, but she kept walking.
As she continued down the street she used to love so much, and which now looked like an artificial decoration or a film set, she suddenly felt as if someone was following her.
She whipped around. The street was as empty and silent as it had been a minute before.
Tina increased her pace. Reaching the end of the street, she turned right. The traffic light wasn’t working, so she carefully looked around, and crossed the road. She thought she saw a blur of motion in the corner of her eye.
This time, she had to force herself to turn around. There was nothing.
She kept on walking, but the feeling of someone’s presence wouldn’t leave her.
Tina walked faster and faster, occasionally glancing over her shoulder. Her heart rate was rising. She didn’t notice a paving stone slightly stuck out and tripped over it, landing on her hands and knees. The palms of her hands stung. As she struggled to her feet, she turned around again and glimpsed a motion on the sidewalk behind her.