Paradox Love: Paradox Love Book 1

by Dorothy Gravelle

  There also was his cell phone. He hadn’t used it since that day. It did contain photographs he longed to see as well as sweet texts shared with Grace from months gone by, but he didn’t want to look at the messages once she was gone. The battery died after being placed in the box. It was just another relic now.

  It seemed that for a time, Luke had been approaching a precipice after the slow, rugged climb up the mountain of denial. Today he’d reached the top and there was a decision to be made. Take the next steps forward, accept the truth and have faith that all the tomorrows to come would take him further away from the pain, or halt the trek and slide back down, slide all the way back down and forget the climb. Along the way, there had been flashes, tiny spurts of light amidst all the dark thoughts. But they weren’t enough. There was not enough kindling to start the fire. Luke was choosing the slide.

  * * * * *

  The pups were becoming more mobile, the squad of six keeping their mother consistently busy. But between the bouts of energy, there were blissful, relaxing naps, the seven of them unknowingly offering the others the comfort of their closeness. For the first time in her young life, Grace’s mother was experiencing a form of physical affection and she was taking to it.

  Little Grace had wiggled away again and had wedged herself between her mother and the bunched end of the rough burlap sack that served as their bedding. The others were huddled, sleeping between meals.

  Her mother perked up at the sound of the squeaky backdoor being opened, followed by the pinging of the dry food dropping into the metal bowl. She pulled herself away from the litter to have her meal. As she moved to fill her belly, her owner went to the shed to fill a pillow case. Rough hands squeezed and scooped the five little ones, dropping them in.

  As if in response to the rude injustice, Grace whimpered and tried to untangle herself. Then she, too was tossed into the bag with little regard for her handling. He made a quick search for additional stragglers. Then tying a knot in the open end, he slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the side gate to reach his truck.

  The live bundle squirmed on the seat next to him as he backed out of the driveway. He took note, but did so without emotion. Those six little lives were six too many a burden and his method of resolution was performed in the most matter-of-fact ways.

  He’d considered himself generous in caring for the dog that lived in his backyard, although he’d never really referred to her as his. But a litter was asking too much. And the solution was a simple one. He pulled onto his street and headed for the freeway. He’d fished the lake enough times to know where the quiet places were.

  The dented pickup truck was like everything the else the man owned – unsightly and unmaintained. His manner of existence and life’s philosophy was likewise reflected in his physical appearance. His long, scraggly hair was accentuated by crisp ends, rarely having been visited by the remedying blades of a good pair of scissors. The act of shaving would have required an occasion to do so, and there were few of those.

  He glanced again at the wriggling package, the pups declaring their moods much disturbed. Their eyes having just begun their slow awakening to light, they had once again descended into darkness. He continued to be distracted by their activity, moving the sack back into place from time to time.

  Ahead of him, cars had slowed to a stop to allow the ambulance to make its way through the intersection. Inside it, a teenaged boy with a self-inflicted wound to his wrist was attended to by one of two EMTs. A suicide attempt.

  Luke faded in and out, but was able to pick up some of the sounds around him. He hadn’t bled for long enough. He hadn’t made the most effective slash. Should have sliced down the arm from the inside of the elbow to the wrist. A simple slice across the wrist was not effective, especially with parents who wouldn’t leave him alone.

  He knew instinctively that he was not going to die, even without the confirming remarks from the attending medical staff. He hadn’t had the courage to take it all the way. Coward. But oh God, could he at least then sleep, sleep for a really, really long time? Sleep to know the relief of a life not laced with the sickening ache of living without her? He wanted to sleep his way through the rest of his life, starting right now.

  The ambulance made its cautious pass through the four way intersection. They had a clear path, unaware of the approaching of the old truck and its oblivious driver. Grace and her littermates were anxious, restless, climbing over one another in confusion. Their combined activity had them moving forward on the seat, until they’d fallen completely off of it, onto the floor below. The perturbed driver reached down to retrieve the bag, taking his eyes off the road, entering the intersection and colliding with the ambulance.

  The ambulance was approaching from his left, the full effect of the impact concentrated on the driver’s side of the old truck. The ensuing chaos was instantaneous. The pickup was no match for the sturdy steel of the boxy ambulance and was crushed on the driver’s side like an aluminum can against the forehead of a Neanderthal jock. The would-be dog killer died instantly. No one onboard the ambulance was seriously injured. Strapped securely to the gurney, Luke was tussled roughly, but that was it. His attending EMT, buckled in securely next to him, was also safe.

  Communications went out to surrounding authorities. The nearest fire station had dispatched two engines, their sirens blaring as they, too, pulled into the intersection. Traffic was halted in all directions, the fatality warranting a street closure, which was implemented by the arriving police. A replacement ambulance and crew were on their way.

  Meanwhile, the fire crew attended to the mangled truck, quickly making their assessments. From the passenger’s side entrance, one of the crew confirmed what was assumed from their visual assessment. He was dead. Dead and crushed into a space once four times its size. Excavating the man was going to take serious equipment. Communication was relayed in rapid succession in order to facilitate the heavy task.

  The glove box was opened in order to determine the man’s identity. Next of kin would be notified. As he pulled the documents out to hand them to the officer on scene, Fireman Scott Taylor noticed the tail end of the knotted pillowcase, which had become lodged under the passenger seat.

  He leaned in and peered into the crack left between the seat and the floor below. There was enough room that he could reach in and search the area. Then came the faint, squeaky sound of an unhappy pup. He pulled off a heavy glove, probing with his bare hand. Then, he felt the warmth of the squirming bodies along his palm and instantly realized what the driver’s intensions had been.

  The bag was pinched at the far end, so there was no way to remove it. Instead, he untied the knot at its base and reached inside. At first pass, he retrieved a live male pup, unscathed, save for his poor disposition. Next was a live female and then another. Deeper into the bag, his fingers met with the unmistakable stickiness of fresh blood. It was clear that the remaining pups had been crushed under the bent frame of the seat. Still, he let his hands move over the bodies just to be certain. But no, they were gone. Grace and two others had perished in the crash.

  Scott examined the three surviving pups before tucking them into his jacket. Then he found the cop who’d taken the vehicle registration information earlier. He was certain that back at the dead man’s home was a mother missing her babies. He would be heading over to check it out after his shift. He took note of the address and headed for the fire truck. He retrieved a utility bucket and placed the pups inside, and then into the station truck for safekeeping. He then returned to the scene to help coordinate the arrival of the jaws of life – or death, in this case.

  In the meantime, the replacement ambulance had arrived and Luke had been moved over to continue the trip to the hospital. Within earshot of the closing ambulance doors, he could hear the frantic wailing of his mother, followed by the reassuring words of the medic. “Don’t worry, ma’am, he’s going to make it.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Transference out was
not nearly as traumatic as in. Once more, she was as a shooting star, propelled at a velocity beyond her understanding. And again there were others, all being delivered to their appropriate levels, all going to meet their counselors and have their assessments.

  As the now familiar corridor began to form around her, she was keenly aware of her own disappointment at being so far away from where she wanted to be.

  And as the rows of closed doors stretched out before her, her hands went to cover her heart. The searing pain was back. It was just as bad, but oddly, seemed to have taken on a different quality. In and amongst the deep sorrow was its dark relative. Yes, yes, disappointment. The panic she’d felt her first time here had been replaced by the sad resolution that there was no easy remedy. As she made her way to Gabe’s office, she resumed the exercise of deep breathing, in order to cope with the pain.

  “Grace, hello.” Her distress was obvious, only rivaled by her disheartened state. “Have a seat.” He knew the answer to the question, but asked it anyway. “How was it?”

  “Very unsatisfying,” a deep sigh escaped her as she slumped into the chair.

  “Yes, I’m sorry. You weren’t gone long. Not long enough to find him.”

  “Right.”

  “Not long enough to have any sense that you were even close.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m sorry, Grace, but obviously you realize now that there are no guarantees.”

  “I understand.” Her silence punctuated the statement quite effectively. “But can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is he okay? Is Luke okay?”

  “I’m sorry, Grace. I don’t have access to that information. I’m not his counselor. I can’t really tell you anything about what’s happening with Luke. But I can make some guesses, just based on your contact with him, what I know from that perspective and what I know from being a counselor for as long as I have. I know that he’s not likely meant to go through life alone. I know that at some point, he’ll heal enough to move on.”

  “I see.”

  “You realize, Grace, that that means he’ll love again. He’ll likely marry and have children.”

  Gabe had called her an advanced soul the last time she was here, and even now, though she had not yet had her assessment, though she was sort of in limbo between life on Earth and moving on, she believed him. She knew it was true, because none of what Gabe told her brought on any sense of jealousy. She understood, by virtue of what she’d already learned and perhaps some of what she did not yet have the capacity to remember, that love wasn’t about possessing a person. It was about genuinely wanting the best for them. And she’d always wanted the best for Luke. Gabe’s next point brought her back to the moment.

  “But Grace, quite honestly, it’s not really about Luke right now.”

  He let a moment rest between that statement and his next. She understood what he meant. He wasn’t Luke’s counselor. He was hers. She acknowledged his comment with a nod before he continued.

  “How’s your pain?”

  “Excruciating.”

  He frowned, but was not surprised.

  “But it feels a little different than last time.”

  The question was in his eyes before the words were spoken. “How so?”

  “It’s hard to describe. There’s just a different quality to it. I remember feeling this profound sense of panic last time. Just a really intense panic, grief, helplessness.”

  “And now?”

  “I’d describe it now as an aching disappointment, a sadness I can’t put into words.”

  “But it hurts just as much?”

  “I don’t know exactly. It’s hard to say. It’s just different.”

  Gabe took a moment to think. Grace’s attachment was holding her back and it was his purpose, his mission to help her move on. Instinctively, he knew that if they were successful, Grace would release that attachment and be able to move forward.

  “I have a theory,” he began.

  She perked up. “Yes?”

  “Here’s what I’m thinking. We’ll put you through transference again. Of course, there’s no guarantee that it’ll go any better than the last time. But it might. And if you do find him and are able to express that love to any degree at all, I’d venture to guess that you’re going to experience a lessening of the pain.”

  She thought about it. It made sense. And it absolutely terrified her. She looked at Gabe and they came to the realization simultaneously. This exercise, this experiment would help her, if it worked. But it would also mean letting go. On one hand, she’d be pursuing him on Earth, searching for him, trying to move herself closer in any way possible. And on the other hand, this exercise, this quest to be in his presence, would at the same time be helping her to let go.

  She felt her heart constrict, the pain so bad it halted her breathing briefly. She visualized the cruel dark hand of fate squeezing it, digging in. The thought of letting go of him made her feel it more intensely than she ever had before. She couldn’t speak. Just as they had so many times before, her hands rose to cover her heart. Gabe’s eyes welled up as they met hers. He was feeling her pain in his own way.

  Finally, she found the strength to speak. “I just need a moment.”

  She rose from the chair and walked out of Gabe’s office and several steps down the hallway. Tears streamed down her face like little hot daggers, each cutting its bloody path. Unable to hold herself upright, she bent toward the floor, choking sobs released in wave after wave.

  All at once, she was confronted with the full understanding of it. And if she admitted it to herself, she could only be left with the grotesque truth. She didn’t want to let go of the pain. She didn’t want it to be lessened. She wanted to carry it. And whatever path she took from this point forward would serve to take it away.

  Tears flowed anew as she faced it. She could go directly to her assessment and have relief. Her attachment to Luke would end and the pain would be gone. It wouldn’t require anything but her agreement. Or she could delay it, go through transference and maybe decrease the pain by a degree, release Luke by a degree. She could hold on a little longer. But in the end, it was all just a matter of time. Both paths led to the same place.

  She knew that this whole exercise was just Gabe’s way of humoring her, indulging her. And she was almost ashamed. He knew she was bright enough to figure it out without ever having to lay it out for her. He was her counselor and yet, in a sense, she was asking him to be her enabler, the compassionate drug dealer who gave you a freebie from time to time, when you could only be described as pathetic, desperate for a fix. She felt emotionally bare. There was no place to hide from the plain reality.

  And then, from around her, the white walls moved gently in. She hadn’t the strength to push them away. Her tears were reduced to a trickle as warmth coursed through her. Having experienced the complete vulnerability of the present moment, she allowed herself to receive the undeniable comfort of unconditional love, which moved within the white like blood pumping through the human heart.

  The unspoken words traveled through her, as her breath slowed to a regular pace. She was judging herself too harshly. The message gently made its way in, reassuring. Grace had always expected so much from herself, always held herself to a higher standard, too self critical for her own good. And now she was being given permission, encouragement, to finally accept herself and to forgive herself for failing under her own self judgments.

  With every breath in and out again, she was coming into a state of calm. Her panic subsided, her mind cleared. There is no shame in walking towards love. Love in all forms is a gift.

  And in that moment, Grace was aware of an intense gratitude for having experienced such profound love, her love for Luke. And that humble gratitude would help her set aside her pride as an advanced soul capable of moving on immediately, but choosing to slow it down, so that she might experience this love for just a little bit longer. And she would honor that love. S
he would accept whatever was to come from it, whether fleeting or foggy, intense or not fully understood. She would be thankful for every moment of it, for every moment of that love.

  She opened her eyes and saw the white pulling back into place, receding into the physical form of the walls around her. She was breathing in slow relaxation, while still acknowledging the deep pain that continued in her chest. She was ready.

  Acutely aware of the battle having taken place within his friend, Gabe couldn’t find words to speak as she reentered his office. But then, he immediately sensed the change. She was calm, centered. Relief washed over him and Grace saw it happen, as his tense expression gave way, replaced by a genuine, empathetic smile.

  “Existence is difficult,” his smile continued as he spoke.

  “Yes, it is. I’m hoping that eventually someone’s going to give me a really good explanation for why it has to be so damn hard.”

  His smile widened briefly before he spoke again. “Sometimes, Grace, it’s we who make things difficult on ourselves. We create a lot of self inflicted wounds. We make things harder than they have to be. Sometimes we decide that’s not so wise and we readjust our sails. And sometimes we decide that the jagged path is worth it, especially for love.”

  The jagged path was worth it. For Luke, it was worth it. For even the remotest possibility of being with him again, it was worth it. She looked Gabe directly in the eyes, as was her way.

  “Bring it on.”

  He smiled again. This was his girl. Strong, strong-willed, stubborn, determined, self-motivated.

  “Okay Grace, you’re all set. You know what to do. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  * * * * *

  She stood outside the transference room, once again noting the light, which traveled through the cracks of the outer frame, beckoning her. She was intrigued by its movement as it flitted about. She placed her hand on the knob and turned it, stepping inside.