The Moments Between

by Natalie Banks

  The dream lurked in the shadows, taunting me, waiting to spring on me and take away everything that I loved.

  Oh, how I longed to be free from this oppression. To be able to wake up in the morning and not be afraid.

  But I knew tomorrow would bring reconciliation to the dream and me. One way or another.

  The day had arrived.

  The day I have been dreading for months.

  Tomorrow was June 3rd.

  I lay in the whispers of the night, listening to the hum of the fan and Ben’s quiet breathing, fighting to stay awake.

  Maybe, I could talk to him in the morning before he left…

  I could try once more to convince him to stay home. To not take the train.

  But sleep snuck in and overtook me.

  Chapter 23

  June 3rd

  I jolted awake the next morning, reaching frantically for Ben, and he was gone.

  Icy blood pumped through my veins.

  All that was left of him was a note that he left on his pillow for me, that read:

  Had to get to work early to prep for this meeting.

  See you tonight, beautiful.

  I love you. Ben

  I grasped the note and clenched it to my chest, screaming his name out into the empty room. Nothing but the sound of my own voice echoed back to me.

  I sat in the kitchen watching the clock. My heart beating in perfect harmony with each tick. I sat silently listening to the sound of the refrigerator hum and the occasional dropping of ice. It had been hours since I had dropped the boys off at school. Earlier, I used the house phone to call Ben, to beg him again to not take the train home, but his response was more impatient than ever. I had called just as his client walked in the door.

  I spent every minute after we hung up hoping against hope that something would change fate. That somehow things would end up differently.

  I even tried to call Detective Anderson again, but he didn’t answer his line.

  I struggled, racking my brain for some scheme to stop this from happening. To stop the train. To stop Ben.

  The warning Jonathan gave me about the Butterfly Effect nagged at my brain. I just didn’t see how saving Ben could be a bad thing.

  Yes, it would change the world.

  The world for us.

  I began to pace. Going outside, then back inside. Over and over again.

  Hoping. Wishing.

  Before I realized it, it was one o’clock.

  There were only two hours left.

  As I looked at the clock, a feeling came over me that nearly bowled me over.

  A rush.

  A surge.

  An overpowering determination that I knew no force on Heaven or Earth could stop.

  “Damn, the consequences!” I called out.

  I will do whatever it takes to stop this from happening!

  I didn’t care if I had to drive to his work and physically stop him from taking the train.

  I wasn’t just going to sit there and let him die!

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  I didn’t care about the damned Butterfly Effect anymore; I was going to save my husband!

  I ran and grabbed my shoes then picked up the keys off of the foyer table, stopping only for a moment to remember last night’s dance.

  Joyous that it was not our last, after all.

  I slammed the front door closed, not even stopping to lock it. I jumped in the car and turned the keys in the ignition, and to my horror the car didn’t start. I was only met with a loud clicking sound. I made several attempts and got the same results each time. Eventually, even the clicking stopped, and there was only silence when I turned the key.

  I slammed my fists on the steering wheel and noticed the headlights had been left on.

  My battery was dead.

  Dread coursed through me, but I wasn’t deterred.

  I got out of the car and ran back into the house.

  I would have to go to plan B. I still had plenty of time to get an Uber to come get me.

  The app to call them was on my cell phone, which had been missing since last night when I had let the boys play a game on it. I searched in all the normal places, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Frustration set in as I searched the couch cushions and under their beds to no avail.

  I ran into the kitchen to check the countertop and looked up at the clock; it was 1:45 already. I gave up on finding my cell phone. I was running out of time. I dug in the junk drawer and found an old phone book. Within a few minutes, I found a cab company to call. Using the house phone, I dialed The Speedy Yellow Cab Company. They promised to arrive within thirty minutes. Cutting it too close for comfort, but I had no other choice.

  I could still make it in time.

  While waiting, I called my mom and asked her to pick up the boys for me. She happily agreed, saying that she would take them to the library and ice cream afterwards.

  I paced the floor, looking out the window every few minutes for the cab. The world around me moved in slow motion as my anxiety grew.

  At two thirty, I was in full blown panic. I had only 30 minutes left and I needed to leave now if I was going to make it to him before he boarded the train.

  I called the cab company again, asking where my cab was, my voice shrieking. She informed me that there was no reservation for my address, but they could get a car to me within thirty minutes.

  “Thirty minutes from now will be too late!” I screamed.

  I hung up and ran out of my front door, desperately looking around for another way. I tried to start the car again and it returned with nothing in response.

  I was overcome with the feeling that something was trying to prevent me from getting to Ben.

  Was the universe working against me, because Ben was supposed to die today!?

  I refused to accept that notion.

  “I won’t let you win!” I screamed up at the sky.

  No sooner than the words had come out of my mouth, I saw Mrs. Parks backing out of her driveway. I was overjoyed at the sight of her, realizing that she could take me to Ben!

  I ran toward her car and tripped over the edge of the driveway, faceplanting in the dirt, cutting my forehead. I scrambled back up and made it to the street just as she was pulling away. I called out to her, but my mouth was dry and the words caught in my throat, only a raspy whisper coming out. I chased her car as it drove down the street. Waving frantically, calling out her name, but she didn’t hear me. I kept running, choking on sobs, as the car got farther and farther away. I ran past eight houses before I gave up.

  I turned to walk back with my head hung in defeat, touching my face as blood ran down my cheek.

  When I got back to the house, I looked at the clock and saw that it was quarter to three. The realization dawned dark; there was no way I could get there in time. Not now.

  My only hope was to call him and beg him again to not get on the train.

  Suddenly it dawned on me. There was no way he would be taking the three o’clock train! I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before! Foolishness washed over me as I remembered that he told me that he had a meeting at 2:00 with the new client to go over all the financials. I hadn’t put two and two together until now. He would never be finished in time to catch the 3 o’clock train. He would still be in his meeting.

  All this stress had been for nothing!

  Joy washed over me like a tidal wave. I was so giddy with relief that I had to sit down.

  I quickly realized that this was just like when I believed, wholeheartedly, that I had seen Ed’s ghost next door, and it was his brother, all along.

  I had let the dream warp my sense of reality again.

  Ben was really fine.

  He was safe.

  But maybe I should still c
all? Just to be sure?

  It was a few minutes before 3:00 and I hated to interrupt his important meeting, but I had to be reassured.

  After all I had been through, a little reassurance wasn’t too much to ask.

  Was it?

  I called Ben’s cell phone and it went straight to voicemail. Most likely turned off because of the meeting. He didn’t like to be disturbed when he was with a client.

  I hung up and called his office line. The receptionist in the lobby put me straight through to his desk.

  It rang several times with no answer. I didn’t panic. I knew he was in his meeting.

  I hung up and called the receptionist back, this time asking to be put through to his co-worker, David Taylor.

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, David. I’m sorry to bother you, but could you tell me if Ben is still in that meeting?” I asked, my voice at a slightly higher pitch than normal.

  David began laughing. “No, he actually walked out of the meeting with the client. He seemed pretty intent on getting home. He told me you had been worried about him taking the train home today, so he was going to catch the earlier train instead. I was surprised he left the meeting early like that, especially after he had worked so hard to get this client.”

  Darkness crept in slowly around me, then all at once.

  “When did he leave?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

  “Oh, about fifteen minutes ago. I think he was trying to catch the three o’clock train.”

  I dropped the receiver to the floor and it broke into pieces.

  A scream rose from my gut, rattling the windows and walls.

  I stumbled out into the backyard still screaming, quieting the birds.

  “This can’t be happening!” I cried out. Sobbing into the grass as the wind blew across my back, ruffling my shirt.

  Fate had made up its mind and showed me no grace.

  Despite every effort that I had made, I had failed at preventing what was to come.

  Suddenly, the truth dawned upon me. Coming into sharp focus.

  Suffocating me. Dragging me past the depths of despair.

  Shattering my heart.

  It was all my fault.

  I had caused all of this.

  I had been so absorbed in my own questions and fears that I never stopped to consider that I myself could be causing it to happen. I had inadvertently betrayed my own self.

  I had set everything into motion.

  If it wasn’t for me, he would have cut back those tree branches. Ben warned me that they were dangerous, and I didn’t listen. If I had, the branches wouldn’t have been there to fall in the storm. His car wouldn’t have been damaged, and he would’ve never had to take the train in the first place.

  And NOW he took the three o’clock train because of me.

  Because I was worried about him.

  He left early, trying to come home to me.

  Why didn’t I just let it be? Why did I have to push and push?

  I cried out at my own foolishness.

  At God.

  At fate.

  And at the cruel trickery of the universe.

  My voice grew hoarse and I stopped screaming. The birds began to sing again as I stood up on wobblily legs and went back into the house. I walked into the kitchen and looked at the clock. It was 3:45.

  I numbly walked over to the television and turned it on. And sure enough, the local news was broadcasting a special report.

  There had been a train accident.

  A transfer truck had stalled out on the tracks, and the train had hit it and derailed one of its passenger cars. As the news camera panned the scene, I saw Detective Anderson in the background. I fell down in front of the tv, crying out Ben’s name.

  I moved forward in a place where nothing seemed real. I looked with unseeing eyes and listened with unhearing ears.

  The roaring sound in my head made it difficult to think.

  I walked over to the dish filled sink and began washing and drying them, one by one.

  Even though I was expecting it, the knock on the door caused me to drop the mug I had been drying. It smashed on the floor, shattering pieces all around me.

  I looked up at the clock and it was exactly 5:20.

  I knew who was here.

  I stood still for several seconds, paralyzed by dread.

  I walked through the shards of broken pieces of ceramic as my blood pumped through me in giant swells.

  I stopped in the kitchen doorway, desperate to halt time. I didn’t want to live this moment. I knew what to expect, and I couldn’t bear the thought of going through it.

  Yet, I moved forward, seemingly against my will.

  My breath came faster as something dark coiled around my chest.

  My body feeling alien to me as I crossed the foyer. I stopped, remembering the touch of Ben last night right here in this spot, and a sob rose up in my throat.

  Another more insistent knock came, followed by the doorbell ringing.

  I stopped in front of the door, resting my head on the frame, my eyes filling with tears.

  I reached for the doorknob with a trembling hand and twisted. As the door swung open, the sun’s glare flashed into my eyes, blinding me. My vision went in and out of focus as I tried to see the face of the man standing in front of me.

  “Mrs. DuPont?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I answered, my voice barely over a whisper.

  “My name is Detective Anderson, and I’m with the Charlotte Police Department. I believe we spoke on the phone yesterday?” His voice, surreal.

  “Yes, we did…” I stuttered, shielding my eyes from the sun as I tried to see his face.

  We stood together quietly for a moment. The space between us filled with a knowing. I wondered if he could feel it too.

  “May I step inside?” he asked.

  My body grew suddenly weak.

  I didn’t want him to come inside.

  Not again.

  “You can say what you need to say to me right here.” I crossed my arms defiantly.

  “Mrs. DuPont, the reason I am here is because there was a train accident today…”

  He was still talking, but his voice went completely out of focus. His mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear him. I stepped out of the doorway and onto the porch, walking past him and stopping at the top of the steps.

  My eyes fixed on the street.

  A yellow cab had stopped right in front of our house.

  The cab that I had ordered, arriving too late.

  Suddenly, the backseat door swung open. Someone was getting out. I strained to look as they stepped out of the cab and paid the driver, the sunlight still blinding me.

  I put my hand up to shield my eyes but it didn’t help. I walked down the rest of steps, stopping at the bottom.

  I could tell by the shape it was a man, and he was walking up the driveway, coming straight toward me.

  My heart began to race.

  It couldn’t be! Could it?

  I stepped another step down, and when he passed under the shade of the oak tree, I caught a glimpse of his face.

  For just a moment, time stood completely still as my mind whirred with the impossibility of what I was seeing.

  Coming straight toward me, just like magic, was Ben.

  I met him on the walkway, collapsing in his arms and sobbing.

  “You’re okay!” I cried out. “Oh my God, you’re okay!” I touched his face, still trying to absorb the fact that he was really here.

  “Of course, I am. I told you I would be.” Ben laughed, hugging me tightly.

  He put his arm around me and we walked up the steps and onto the porch where Detective Anderson was still waiting.

  “Who’s this?” Ben asked.


  “I’m Detective Anderson, and I’m here to talk to your wife about her prior knowledge of the train accident that occurred today at three twenty,” he said, sounding frustrated.

  Ben’s face turned an ashy white as he looked at me, then quickly looked back at the detective. “Train accident?” he stammered.

  “Yes, your wife called and reported the train accident yesterday, and I would like to know how she knew about it.”

  Ben shook his head in disbelief and turned to face me.

  “I was coming home early to appease you because I felt bad about how upset you had been…and I actually missed the train,” he stuttered, his face still pale. “And I would’ve been on it, if it wasn’t for this bicyclist. His tire popped as he crossed the courtyard right in front of me. He fell over the front handlebars of his bike and broke his arm. I stayed with him until the paramedics came. Because I stayed with him, I missed the train. So, I called a cab to bring me home…” He shook his head, clearly still trying to process what had just happened.

  A sob rose up in my throat.

  He would’ve been on the train…

  But somehow, by some miracle…he wasn’t.

  I looked up at the sky and gave a silent thank you to God. Someone had heard my prayer, after all.

  Soon after, I explained to Detective Anderson about the dream again. He had a few more questions, but for the most part left just as baffled as he had arrived.

  After he was gone, we went inside.

  Ben stopped me in the foyer and pulled me close to him.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Claire…” Ben’s voice cracked.

  “All that matters to me is that you’re okay. God, I am just so thankful that you are okay.” I hugged him tighter as tears ran down my cheeks.

  Just at that moment, both of the boys came rushing in the front door, followed by my mom.

  Oliver came up to me and tugged on my shirt. “Momma, you okay?”

  I kneeled down next to him and Grayson, wrapping my arms around both of them.

  “I am now,” I said.

  I looked back at Ben and he was smiling.

  He walked over and knelt down next to me, putting his arms tightly around all three of us.