Grasping at Eternity (The Kindrily)

by Karen Amanda Hooper

  Goosebumps spread over my entire body. I hadn’t told anyone he called me that.

  My parents were actually here? Contacting Harmony? Some hopeful yet really scared part of me wished it were true.

  A thousand questions ran through my mind. “Where have they been? Why didn’t they say anything sooner?”

  Harmony cracked her neck and said to Faith, “Told you this would be complicated.”

  “Come on,” Faith insisted. “She’d do it for you.”

  Harmony sighed. “Don’t be mad at me, but they’ve been hanging around since you arrived here. They won’t cross over like most souls do by now.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I shrieked.

  “You have to understand, Maryah. Once souls find out I can hear them, they don’t shut up. They follow me everywhere and won’t leave me alone until I find all the people they want to contact. It’s exhausting. It was next to impossible to be around you when you first arrived. Your parents constantly talked to each other about you, and what they thought of our kin—family. So many times I wanted to give them a piece of my mind, but I knew if I did, they’d never leave me alone. Most of the things they said were meaningless, typical parental stuff, but today at your party, they were discussing something I couldn’t ignore, so I spoke up.”

  I was stunned to hear Harmony say so much.

  “Your mom says you have her jewelry box. There’s a gift for you hidden inside of it.” My mind raced, picturing every piece of jewelry in the box. Was she mad that I put River’s necklace in there? “She says you have to pry the bottom of the box open. You’ll understand when you find it.”

  “I don’t understand,” I mumbled.

  Harmony threw her hands up and looked at the empty air beside me. “Sarah, did you drop this kid on her head?” A warm shiver ran through me as Harmony focused on me again. “I told you, once you find it, you’ll understand.”

  Faith sprang to her feet. “Let’s go find it!”

  Harmony got up and they both looked down at me.

  “Ma-Ma, come on!” Faith urged.

  “No…I can’t.” I stared at the pond. My mind flashed back to the peculiar fear I had. I thought something awful would happen if I opened the jewelry box. That feeling was back stronger than ever.

  “What are you talking about?” Faith asked. “It’s a gift from your mother. Don’t you want to see what it is?”

  I shook my head. “I have a bad feeling about it.”

  Harmony stared into space for a few seconds then said, “Sarah understands. She wasn’t sure if she should give it to you. She wants you to follow your instincts and if they tell you not to open it, then don’t.”

  “For crying out loud,” Faith whined. “How anticlimactic is this?”

  I fought back tears. “Harmony, can you tell them I love them and miss them?”

  “Trust me,” she said. “They know.”

  “Is Mikey with them?”

  “Mikey crossed to the Higher Realm a couple weeks after you came out of your coma.”

  “Oh,” I uttered, disappointed but also relieved. “That means he’s okay, right? Is the Higher Realm like Heaven?”

  “They’re basically the same place,” Faith assured me.

  How the heck did she know anything about Heaven?

  “Maryah,” Harmony said, “your dad is asking if there’s anything else you want to say before they…leave me alone. We made an agreement that if I helped them communicate with you this once, they wouldn’t bother me again.” Harmony sounded guilty and rightly so. This was my last and only chance to talk to them?

  “Why won’t they cross over?”

  The thought of them lingering in some in-between world didn’t seem right. They should be with Mikey in Heaven, or whatever it was called.

  “They want to make sure you’re okay before they do.”

  A tear streamed down my cheek. “But I want them to be okay. They should be with Mikey.” My voice cracked. “I can’t stand the thought of them in some kind of purgatory.”

  “Aw, it’s nothing like that,” Faith said. “They aren’t suffering by hanging around.”

  “How do you know?” I snapped. “Do you have a psychic power too?”

  She bit her lip. “Um, well—”

  Harmony interrupted. “They’re proud of how far you’ve come since that night. They’ll cross over soon. Your dad says until then, they’ll give you space.”

  My ears began buzzing and a headache tugged at my temples. I wasn’t sure if I could handle any more talk about ghosts. It felt strange to have Harmony—who up until a few minutes ago I thought hated me—acting as a mediator between my parents and me.

  “I want to be alone,” I announced, standing up.

  No one argued. Faith and Harmony stayed quiet as I walked into the house.

  I wondered if my parents followed.

  TURNING THE PAGE

  Maryah

  I felt eerily haunted, like my parents were watching my every move. I kept saying things out loud like “I love you, but if you’re here, can you leave me alone for a minute?” This new theory that my parents could be lingering at all times left me thinking through every move I made.

  Dinner with River was out of the question, so I called and cancelled. Instead, I sat on my bed staring across the room at my mother’s jewelry box—unable to bring myself to go near it. What could my mother have hidden inside? I looked at the clock. 8:18pm.

  I crept toward my dresser where the box sat. My fingers traced the ridges in the wood before I opened the lid. Slowly, I removed each piece of jewelry then flipped it over to examine the bottom. It didn’t look like it had been altered, or that anything would fit in the tiny space between the outside and the inner lining. I carried it into the kitchen and set it on the counter.

  Was I really going to do this? Damage my mother’s jewelry box just because Harmony claimed she could talk to dead people?

  I scanned the room expecting to see a camera crew jump out and tell me it was all a joke. But there were no cameras. I was alone and the house was so quiet I could hear the wind outside. I pulled out a knife and tampered with the bottom of the box. I tried a few different knives, stabbing at the glued seam, but the seal couldn’t be broken. The more frustrated I got, the more determined I became. My fear disappeared. I’d open the bottom of the box even if I had to take a hammer to it. A hammer.

  I grabbed the box and headed out to the garage.

  After digging out a flathead screwdriver and a rubber mallet from Anthony’s toolbox, I placed the screwdriver along the seam and pounded away. Another failed attempt. I threw the screwdriver across the garage in frustration and looked at the heavy steel hammer hanging on Anthony’s wall of tools. I shuddered as I pictured myself destroying the box. What if the object hidden inside was fragile and I broke it? What if there was nothing hidden inside at all?

  Two seconds later my destructive vision became a reality. One powerful swing and the bottom of the box splintered. After another hit, the rest caved in. Using the claw side of the hammer, I pried away the remaining wood.

  There, taped firmly to the next layer of the box, was an envelope with my name written in my mother’s handwriting. My hands trembled. Two things terrified me: what the envelope might contain and that this meant Harmony wasn’t lying—she could talk to ghosts.

  I shook my head, trying to gain control of my thoughts, and whispered into the stillness, “Okay Mom, no turning back now.”

  I climbed into the Desoto, carefully opening the envelope, and removed several sheets of paper.

  My Precious Maryah,

  If you are reading this letter it means you are not eighteen yet and something tragic has happened to me. Tell your father and Michael that I love them both dearly, and thank your father for keeping his promise and giving you this letter. If you choose to tell him what you learn, please tell him I’m sorry for keeping it a secret.

  As I sit here writing this, you are three years old—so sweet, in
nocent, and new to the world. It breaks my heart to think of ever having to leave you. However, if one day, I’m forced to go against my will, then there are things you should know.

  I plan to tell you this in person, but not until your eighteenth birthday. Logic tells me you should enjoy your childhood. I should let you develop your own beliefs and theories on love and how the world works. Yet a stronger intuition, some unknown force within me, KNOWS I can’t keep this from you. If it’s true…I get chills as I write the words…then it’s your divine right to know the truth.

  My childhood best friend, Louise, just revealed something that has caused me to question life and wonder if things aren’t always as they seem. (Louise has an imagination that runs deeper than any ocean on this planet.) She swears there is a never-ending cycle to this world. That we return again and again in different bodies, but we remain the same souls. There have been many times when I felt like I’d been somewhere before or experienced something I knew I hadn’t (in this lifetime). Déjà vu is what many call it. Louise said it is memories from my past that haven’t been entirely erased. Part of me believes that theory.

  It’s her erase-or-retain theory that I’m not sure I believe. She swears every soul is given a choice between lives. They can retain their memories and knowledge, or they can erase and start with a clean slate. Apparently there are a chosen few who get to decide the details of their return, so it makes it easier for them to retain. She swears YOU are one of those gifted souls. She called you an Element and said you are a part of her kindrily…an eternal family. She lost count of which number lifetime this is for you, but swears she’s been a part of every one.

  She said almost every normal human chooses erasure because they have no guarantees their new life will be better or worse than their former. The memories and emotional baggage are too much for most souls to endure. In their new life, they might never see anyone they previously knew or loved, but would still carry a torch for them. Furthermore, if they did return quickly enough to live in the same time span of the people they left behind, odds are those people wouldn’t believe in a reincarnated version of their lost loved one. The rejection would cause so much heartache that the retainer would never make that choice again.

  The whole thing sounds ridiculous, but as long as I have known Louise (over twenty years) she has never lied to me. So how can I doubt her now when she comes to me so passionately to discuss one of the most precious topics in the world to me? My daughter…her goddaughter. Louise claims you chose your father and me as your parents so that you could be close to her and her family. She also claims her son, Nathaniel, is your soul mate.

  When she first told me this information yesterday, Nathaniel stared at me with wide, green, curious eyes. He’s a toddler! I’m supposed to believe that he loves you and has loved you for centuries?

  I thought Louise had lost her mind. I’m still worried about her as I write this. I can’t bring myself to tell your father in fear that he’ll make me reassign your guardianship. Even as I sit here, worrying Louise has gone insane, my intuition tells me that she IS the right choice as your godmother.

  If it is true

  I’m rambling. I’m not even sure what the purpose of this letter is or how to finish it. I pray the day will never come when you have to read this. I pray I’ll live to see your seventieth birthday. Yet somehow I feel better that I wrote it all down even if no one ever reads it or knows of Louise’s bizarre theory, I feel better knowing it has been written.

  If by some awful twist of fate, you do someday read this, keep this thought in your heart…I love you more than words can express. I will always love you and I will do whatever is within my power to protect you. I might make mistakes along the way, but I will always follow my heart. And if by some divine miracle, you did choose me as your mother, I want to thank you for the honor and privilege. I have truly been blessed to give birth to such an angelic soul.

  With every fiber of my being, I love you,

  Mom

  I curled up in the backseat of my car, clutched the letter to my chest, and cried like a baby.

  ∞

  It was almost ten o’clock and I was more awake than I’d ever been.

  That kindrily word, the one I’d heard Anthony say in a dream, stared back at me in my mother’s handwriting. Why couldn’t she have told me all of this at any age prior to eighteen? Then I would’ve known Louise had issues and I would’ve stayed in Maryland. But Louise never acted crazy—not once in seven months of knowing her. The longer I thought about it, the more I wondered if Louise really told my mother this stuff, or if it was one of my mother’s lies.

  The whiteboard next to the fridge caught my attention. For months I’d barely given the list of names and numbers a second glance, but now Nathaniel stood out like it was illuminated in flashing casino lights. I stared at his phone number and considered calling him, but what would I say? Hello, Nathan. It’s Maryah. I found this letter from my dead mother and she said Louise thinks we’re soul mates. What do you think? Was my mom a chronic liar, or do we need to call the men with strappy white coats to take your mother away?

  Yet, crazy as it was, I clenched the phone in my hand, wanting to call Nathan so badly my head hurt. I took a deep breath and dialed his number.

  After four long rings it went to voicemail. I listened to his greeting and his voice sent a warm tickle through me. I closed my eyes, remembering the same surge when I hugged him the night he gave me my car. All too quickly there was a beep announcing my chance to leave a message. I hung up without saying a word.

  Louise came home seconds later. I shoved my mother’s letter in my pocket.

  “How has your birthday evening been?” she asked.

  Act normal. “Fine.”

  “Are you excited about Krista arriving on Saturday?”

  “I wish she were here now.” More than ever.

  Louise smiled.

  I sat on a stool and folded my clasped fingers in my lap. I didn’t want to look nervous, but my hands were shaking. “Have you ever heard of a kindrily?”

  Her eyes met mine and it felt like a year passed before she blinked. “Yes. A kindrily is similar to the concept of a family. Kindred spirits that remain connected through many lifetimes.”

  Okay, so it was a known theory, but did Louise believe in it? My fingers were numb from the cut-off circulation. I tried to swallow and think of something to say, but I couldn’t.

  “What brought that up?” Louise asked.

  I played it cool. “I heard it on some television show and didn’t know what it meant.”

  She looked shocked. “Really? What show?”

  “Oh, um, I can’t remember.” My fingertips were turning purple, so I released my death grip before looking up again. “Do you believe in that stuff?”

  She rubbed the back of her neck, her bracelets jingling almost as loud as my heartbeat. “Anything is possible.”

  A non-judgmental, impartial answer. Louise stood strongly behind her beliefs. If she thought she and I were part of an eternal family, she would’ve said yes—plain and simple. But why would my mother want me to read her letter if she lied?

  Faith! I could talk to her about this without looking mental. She believed in past lives. Her sister talks to the dead. What’s more unbelievable than that? I hopped down off my stool. “I forgot to call Faith back. Better call her before she goes to bed.”

  “Okay.”

  I bee-lined it to my bedroom.

  Faith answered on the first ring. “Hello, Birthday Princess!”

  “Hey. Is it too late for a sleepover at your place?”

  “Don’t be silly! That’s a fabulous idea. Should we rent a movie? Do you want me to order pizza or Thai? We could—”

  “Whatever. I’ll be over in a few. See you soon.”

  I packed a bag and returned to the kitchen, but Louise was gone. I scribbled a note telling her I’d be spending the night at Faith’s.

  I stared at Nathaniel’s name for eight
heartbeats before leaving.

  CLINGING TO THE OLD

  Nathaniel

  I stood on the balcony of the cottage, staring out at the rocky shoreline. The moonlight reflected off the whitecaps of the crashing waves, making them appear iridescent. Regardless of how many hundreds of years I had roamed this planet, and how much I thought I understood about life, the beauty of our world still astounded me.

  But so did the ugliness.

  From inside the house, Sheila called out to me. “Nathaniel, your mobile was ringing.”

  “No need to answer,” I shouted back.

  The balcony door squeaked open and Sheila handed me my phone. “You should answer. The screen said ‘Home.’”

  I cleared the missed call and shoved it in my pocket. “I’m sure Louise just wanted to tell me she arrived home safely.”

  Louise and Anthony had spent days with me in Ireland and England, helping me find information about Dedrick’s disturbing plan. We would need all the help we could get, but I had no updates for them, and so far no one else had agreed to get involved.

  “There must be someone powerful enough to counteract Dedrick. Perhaps someone can put a binding spell on him?” I spun around and faced Sheila. She was nearing one-hundred years old, but even with sagging skin, deep wrinkles, and most of her hair whitened, she looked radiant. I had never wished for a soul to be an Element so badly. It was unfair that someone as wretched as Dedrick had found a way to never age, yet an exquisite soul like Sheila grew more fragile with each passing day.

  Her Irish accent wasn’t as strong as it used to be, but her tenderness remained constant. “Word is spreading far and wide. Every coven, old and new, is being notified, but Dedrick is practicing very dark magic. It would take a foolish witch or warlock to stand against him.”