Rooms

by Rubart, James L.

  After that he remembered nothing.

  Micah’s eyes opened to the trees at the edge of the beach outlining the dark gray sky. Small eddies of seawater swirled around the side of his hood, but the waves were a world away now. The question of who was on the beach spun through his mind as he pushed up to his hands and knees, waited a moment, then sat back on his heels.

  He knew there was a connection between the person he’d seen and his rescue. Without the hooded figure, he had little doubt his life would have ended on the bottom of the ocean floor.

  He struggled to one knee, then stood and eased over to the spot where the person had been, hoping to make out a shoe print in the sand, a clue to the identity of the spectral observer of his near death. The sand was soft from the rain, and a clear impression of a boot or tennis shoe should have been easy to spot. But there wasn’t even the hint of a footprint.

  ||||||||

  Less than a mile north of Ecola Creek a cape jutted into the ocean blocking the way to Crescent Beach except at extremely low tide, so the route wasn’t heavily traveled.

  But Micah and Rick rose early enough on Tuesday to get around the point with only half an inch of water swimming up to kiss their running shoes. It had been almost a week since they’d talked, which was unusual, so a combination run and conversation was an excellent way to start the day.

  The deep scrape on his foot Micah had gotten during his kayaking ordeal still stung but not enough to keep him from this run. It was good to be with the mechanic.

  Micah glanced at Rick as they fell into an easy rhythm beside each other. He still didn’t know how to describe the man. A little too young to be a father figure; a little too old to be the wise big brother. Maybe he was simply a mentor.

  Micah had had business mentors before, who had helped further his and their own careers as RimSoft grew. But his relationship with Rick was different. The taste of ulterior motive never flitted around the edges of their friendship. Rick never seemed to want anything from Micah, yet Rick pushed him, drove him, forced him to look at his life in ways he’d never considered.

  He couldn’t see what Rick got out of the relationship and didn’t think about it too deeply. Micah didn’t want the illusion to be shattered that, for the first time in his life, someone knew about his money and success but couldn’t care less how either might benefit him.

  They jogged around the point, and Crescent Beach opened up in front of them. It looked as if no one had stepped on it in months. With the old trail from Ecola Park above washed out, the only other way to access the beach was a much steeper and longer path from the parking lot above, which many people didn’t realize existed. So their indentations in the sand were possibly the first of early fall.

  Micah challenged Rick with a smile, and they broke into a dead sprint across the sand. Even with the difference in ages, Rick wouldn’t give up without a fight.

  Seventy yards down the beach, Micah glanced back. Rick pounded down the beach just three paces back. After about 150 yards Micah’s lungs won out over his mind, and he staggered to a stop. He bent over, hands on knees to catch his breath. Rick did the same not far behind him, both of them laughing between gasps for more air.

  After their heart rates returned to normal, they found a log, long battered by the wind and waves into a functional seat, and sat down.

  “You think about death?” Micah said after a few minutes of watching two otters joust in the water.

  “Yep.”

  “Yes? That’s it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Micah knew he was teasing and waited for the mirth to burst out of Rick’s mouth.

  “What do you want to know?” Rick said after his laughter subsided.

  “I went kayaking a couple days ago.” Micah paused as the emotion of the event swelled inside. “Nearly drowned. I was stupid. Thought I knew what I was doing. Wrong.”

  Rick eyes drilled into Micah’s, but he didn’t comment. Micah thought he didn’t understand.

  “I’m not saying I got in a little trouble out there. I’m saying I truly came within a breath of dying.”

  “What were you thinking as you were about to be smashed against the rocks?”

  “I felt like an alarm went off and I was finally awake after years of sleep. I haven’t felt that alive in years. As crazy as this sounds, even though a big part of me was scared out of my mind, another part of me loved it.”

  “On the edge of life.”

  “Exactly.” Micah picked up a handful of sand and let it slide over his fingers. “Ready for the weird part?”

  “Sure. After you tell me about the normal parts of almost dying.”

  The comment lightened the moment just enough.

  “At the point I knew I was going to bite it, the waves tossed me against the current. Makes no sense. Then I look up and someone’s standing on the beach. Two seconds later? Gone.” Micah glanced at Rick before continuing. His face showed no expression.

  “The thought riveted itself in my mind that this person standing on the beach and the waves saving me were connected. But after I get to shore, when I look for tracks, nothing’s there. So was the person a ghost? A hallucination?”

  “Was the sand too hard to take a footprint?”

  “It took mine. In the same spot I saw the person standing.” Micah pulled a long sliver of wood off the log he and Rick sat on and pushed it into the sand at his feet.

  “Your conclusion?”

  “He wasn’t there physically.”

  “You mean it was all in your mind?” Rick said.

  “No, and that’s where it gets strange. I saw someone. No question. But maybe what I saw was a vision. Maybe whoever it was, he doesn’t exist on a physical plane.”

  “Or he didn’t think you’d see him. Forgot to leave footprints.”

  “You lost me.”

  “Could have been an angel.” Rick stood and stretched his hamstrings.

  Micah chuckled but Rick didn’t join him. He glanced at his friend to see if he was joking. He wasn’t.

  “You’re serious,” Micah said.

  “Get sappy, pop-culture angels out of your mind. I’m talking about the fierce warriors you find in the Bible.”

  “Warriors?” Micah stood and joined Rick in stretching his legs.

  “Read Daniel 10 or 2 Chronicles 32. Angels are intense creatures with battle on their minds. God gave them incredible powers, and they continually wield that power on Earth.” Rick began stretching his back. “The Bible tells of angels taking on human form and people not knowing it. So I think it’s possible what you saw on that beach was an angel, sent the instant you called out to God. Was it God, a weird current, or an angel? Don’t know, but it’s worth considering all possibilities.”

  Micah stared at the sand crystals at his feet and thought back to the times over the past four and a half months he had called out to God and how the answers had come. Could Rick be right? Angels? Micah couldn’t get his mind around it.

  “So let’s pretend for a moment it was an angel,” Micah said. “Why did it only come after I called out to God? Why not act before?”

  “Ah, you presume to know more than you do.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re only looking through the eyes of your own experience. Your mind couldn’t contain all the times God or His angels have acted on your behalf when you had no clue He was doing it and you didn’t call out.”

  “You got an example?”

  “I don’t need to come up with one, just point out a few you know yourself.” Rick laughed. “Wake up, boy!”

  “Fine.” Micah glared at Rick. “How ’bout telling me what I already know.”

  Rick’s smile faded. “Has life changed since coming to Cannon Beach? Do you have more freedom? Are you closer to Jesus? Had any powerful experiences? Who got you here in the first place? Did you just up and one day decide, ‘Hey! I think I’ll take a little road trip to Cannon Beach?’” Rick finished stretching and jogged lightly
in place.

  Micah’s relationship with God, the healings in his soul, the painting, Sarah, all flashed into his mind. And yes, he was freer than he’d ever imagined possible.

  “Micah,” Rick said softly as he stopped warming up and stood still. “Who guided Archie to write the letters and have the house built? Who set up our friendship or led you to meet a girl in an ice cream shop?”

  Rick sat back down on the log, and they sat for five minutes saying nothing as guys are able to do. Micah was grateful for the time to reflect. The man he’d been when he first set foot in Cannon Beach was gone. He was more alive now than he’d ever been. Yet in some ways it was so far from the world he’d come from, he still felt the foreigner. Not exactly true. Here felt like home, but at the same time the days in Cannon Beach often came at him like an out-of-control freight train, and he couldn’t figure out how to get off the tracks.

  Rick broke the silence with words that went to the heart of Micah’s condition. “The King calls us to a life of risk, adventure, and a continual journey into the unknown. The Bible says the Word is a lamp unto our feet. Not a lamp unto our head or a set of running lights where we can land our aircraft. So take one step at a time. Right now you’re desperately trying to figure out how your journey ends. But you must have faith enough to let it go and let Him unveil it in His timing.”

  “So what do I do while I’m waiting?”

  “Know Him. Grow in intimacy. Follow His voice, and in every decision make the conscious choice to take the narrow path.” Rick got up and walked to the edge of the surf. “Want to do a little wading? We’d better head south unless we want the tide to wash our kneecaps.”

  They made it around the south point of Crescent Beach with only minutes to spare—their feet only slightly moist as they jogged back toward Haystack Rock.

  As they parted, Rick looked back and gave Micah a cryptic smile. “If I were betting, I’d lay pretty good odds your kayaking beach buddy was indeed an angel.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “In time I have no doubt you’ll figure it out for yourself.”

  Rick jogged off, his back to Micah. But Micah could still feel the smile on Rick’s face.

  ||||||||

  The next morning Micah chuckled as he read Archie’s letter because the whole thing was redundant.

  October 13, 1991

  Dear Micah,

  I have prayed for six days over this letter. I am still not convinced it is the time to explain how I have known so much about your present from my vantage point, which from your perspective is the past. However, I will sally forth nonetheless.

  Five years ago I met a genuine angel of heaven.

  He revealed to me that someday you would lead many to freedom through the abilities the Father had bestowed on you, and I was to have a role in making certain those abilities were used for God’s glory and not buried.

  Over the course of a year, this angel revealed to me specifics about your life and instructed me to write them down. I was to then write a series of letters, which of course you now have, and convey to you the things he revealed. Whether you believe in angels or not, hopefully you have found wisdom in these letters and can see they are written with the hand of the Father on them.

  My greatest prayer is wherever you are in your journey, you will continue to trust that God has designed this rather odd relationship between you and me and His plans are never wrong.

  Across time,

  Archie

  For the first time in months, Micah went to bed feeling like a mystery had been solved. Finally! An explanation of how Archie knew the things he did. Micah still wasn’t sure he believed angels were popping up in Cannon Beach and other parts of the world to buddy up with Earth’s mortals, but Rick had made a pretty decent case for their existence. It was the best reason he’d found so far to explain Archie’s letters.

  Angels? If they were real, he’d need them in the morning. Something told him his conference call with Shannon and his RimSoft VPs would be just as rough as his kayak adventure had been.

  CHAPTER 36

  Micah woke Thursday morning with a severe case of RimSoft on the brain. He couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Probably nothing. Just feeling a bit rusty due to lack of day-to-day interaction with the company.

  He made himself steroid-strength coffee and pounded down two cups in six minutes. Being wide awake was essential. His sabbatical had been in effect for three weeks, and today was the day for a phone conference with his VPs to plow through everything needing his immediate decisions. He needed the call to go smoothly. He needed assurance RimSoft was still booting up without bugs. He needed a few days of normal life, please.

  Shannon answered before the second ring. “This is Shannon—”

  “Hey, it’s me. Everyone ready?”

  “Who is this?”

  “In other words, no one’s ready?” Micah chuckled.

  “Who . . is . . . this?” she snapped.

  “What are you doing? It’s Micah.”

  “Micah Taylor?”

  “Yeah. Hello. Remember me?”

  “Well, hi, Micah. Good to hear from you. How’s the long vacation going?”

  “It’s called a sabbatical.”

  She cleared her throat. “Well, when the president of the company calls your time away a vacation, it’s a vacation.”

  “Exactly. And since I’m not calling it a vacation, it’s not a vacation.”

  No answer. Micah started to ask if she was still there when Shannon responded with cool professionalism.

  “I like that. Ambition is an excellent quality. And if you are the president of your own company someday, you can call it whatever you like. But for now we’ll call it a vacation.”

  Micah sighed and poured a little more coffee to go with his French vanilla cream. “Listen, Shannon. I’m not in the mood for a lot of humor this morning. I just want to get this conference call done and get on with the rest of my day, okay? So let’s get to it.”

  Her tone changed from polite professional to ice. “Listen very, very closely. I appreciate the hard work you’ve given this company. I also appreciate that you’re one of its rising stars, but you keep acting like you own the place, and I’ll rip the remaining rungs on this corporate ladder out of your hands and put them in the shredder. Got it?”

  Micah’s whole body was instantly hot. She was dead serious. There’d been another shift, and this time it was major.

  “Who’s the president of RimSoft?”

  “You mean RimWare.”

  Micah’s head sank to the oak coffee table.

  Not even the same name! RimWare? Didn’t Rick call it that a couple of times? “And my position with the company?”

  “Now or before this conversation started?”

  “Before.”

  “When it started, I had you slated for vice president in a few years. Maybe less. But this display you just put on is not winning you any elections. I don’t have time for these games and neither do you.”

  “Listen, I’m really sorry about this.” Micah swallowed hard and dug his knuckles into his forehead. “Just testing out some new ideas I read about on social, uh, trying out ways to influence people and—”

  “You’re a strong asset to this company, Micah. But you keep trying that kind of nonsense, and you’ll have more time to relax than you want. Understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fine. No harm done, but lay off the Carnegie crap and enjoy your vacation, okay?”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  “You’re back when?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Micah heard keys being punched through the phone. “Looks like next Tuesday. Have a different attitude when I see you next.”

  Micah’s head reeled. “Can I take one more minute?”

  “One.”

  “I was just curious about RimSof—uh, RimWare’s stock options.”

  “Who have you talked to?”

  “No one.”

&nb
sp; “Then how do you know I’m taking the company public?” He heard her tapping a pen or pencil with a rapid beat.

  He slid to the floor. “I have no stock,” he whispered to the waves outside his window.

  “No one has stock. Yet. But if the Wall Street rumors are true, the IPO could rocket out of the gate. The board could easily vote up to five thousand shares for employees of your level, which means based on conservative early estimates, on paper you could be worth as much as $550,000 instantly. You probably wouldn’t vest for a year or two, but that’s relatively quick.”

  Micah had a hard time breathing and said nothing.

  “Are you there?”

  “Um-hmm.” He didn’t trust his voice.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. I have to go. See you next Tuesday.”

  The phone went dead. Setting it back in its cradle was like putting an octagon peg into a square hole. He finally got it in place and just stared out over the ocean. But didn’t see anything.

  ||||||||

  “Am I losing my mind, Rick?”

  “No.”

  Rick worked on a breakfast fit for a ranch hand, even though it was past 1:00 p.m. Micah only had coffee, which he hadn’t touched.

  “Then what is going on? Some kind of twisted cosmic joke God is playing on me to entertain the angelic host? The ultimate Candid Camera?”

  Rick shoved the last of his eggs smothered in Tabasco sauce into his mouth.

  “Are you listening to me?” Micah said.

  “Yep.” Rick went to work on his sourdough toast.

  “Do you hear what I’m saying? Two weeks ago everything at RimSoft ran like a Swiss watch. As of today I’ve gone from seriously rich to having virtually nothing. Not only am I no longer president; I don’t own a single share of stock. What’ll I lose next? My life?”