Tearing The Shroud

by JM Bray

  ‘Sounds good,’ Julie said. ‘I’ll grab some scrubs and meet you. Not that I didn’t appreciate your weird Kung Fu guy shirt — it was comfortable.’

  ‘Plus, you looked way better in it than I do.’ Vincent grinned.

  ‘Way,’ Knife said.

  ‘Way way,’ Flea said.

  ‘Okay, okay. I get it.’ She giggled.

  Flea gulped the last of his drink. ‘Ah, that’s good. Everyone ready?’ They nodded. ‘Well then, like the Duke says, “Courage is being scared to death — but saddling up anyway.”’

  As they walked toward the door, Knife said, ‘John Wayne, what a philosopher.’

  Julie’s laugh spread to them all as they opened their umbrellas and turned to the dorms.

  The Key

  Julie studied her Botany, Knife did Math, Flea prepped for an audition, and Vincent read American Lit. The wooden die sat on the desk near him. Life had to go on. Waiting to be possessed? You might as well get some studying done.

  Vincent saw the die move, and looked at the clock — 10:02. His pulse took off like a rabbit. ‘Here we go, gang.’

  ‘Already?’ Knife asked.

  He stared at the unmoving piece of wood. ‘Or...not?’ He turned to them.

  ‘It moved.’ Flea pointed.

  Vincent looked back; everything looked the same. ‘Maybe we’re just jumpy.’

  As if on cue, the die did exactly that.

  ‘Let’s get ready,’ Julie said. ‘Flea, grab the gaming candle.’

  ‘Fire it up?’

  Vincent nodded. ‘Good idea. They use candles, so maybe it’s important.’

  ‘You got it.’ He jumped up and pulled it from the closet. ‘On the dresser okay?’

  Vincent looked around the room. ‘That’ll work.’ It had a large mirror mounted on the wall behind it. ‘The mirror will help cast the light.’

  Knife handed him the lighter as Julie darkened the room. A warm glow emanated from the three flickering flames. Vincent put his hands on his hips. Something wasn’t right. He looked around until he saw the die; it was the center of what was happening.

  The center of things.

  The center.

  He picked it up.

  ‘Shouldn’t you leave it alone?’ Julie asked.

  ‘I think it’s supposed to be in the middle of the room,’ Vincent said.

  ‘How?’ Flea asked.

  ‘I don’t know, I just...know. Ya know?’

  Flea laughed nervously.

  For no reason he could explain, Vincent squatted and rolled the die. It tumbled from his hand...and never landed. It stopped a foot above the rug then started moving in a large circle. They stepped back to give it room. The circle tightened, and the speed of its rotations increased; tighter and faster it moved.

  Vincent laughed. ‘I knew it.’

  ‘What?’ Knife asked.

  ‘It’s seeking the exact center of the room.’

  The die found its place and spun, whirring like a top. The pitch of the whir changed, lowering, becoming a buzz then a hum. The final pitch sounded like a person softly singing to himself.

  As before, silver light started to emanate from it. As the light grew, the hum changed, becoming an airy tune that brought a sense of wellbeing. They knew there was nothing to fear. The die rose and came to a stop at waist height. The light spread upward and outward, forming into a shape of some sort. Vincent moved around the die, to Julie’s side, facing the window.

  She offered her hand but he shook his head. ‘I don’t know what will happen.’

  She nodded and smiled softly. ‘It’ll be okay.’

  ‘It will.’ He smiled back. ‘Julie...’ He looked into her beautiful eyes.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Whatever happens, I want you to know I love you.’

  Her eyes brightened. ‘I love you too, Vincent.’

  They looked at the light, Flea beside Vincent, and Knife by Julie, facing whatever came together. The form took on definition, about three feet across and seven feet high; the edges grew sharp; it stopped expanding and seemed to solidify.

  A silver shimmering door stood before them. It had no handle, just a tiny dark square near the middle. The die suddenly stopped spinning, though the haunting melody continued. The wondrous little object pivoted sideways and slid into the hole.

  The keyhole. The die had been the key all along.

  It turned to the left with a soft click as the door unlocked.

  Chapter 22

  The Meeting

  The Matriarch nodded. ‘It comes.’ She stood and walked to them. ‘You should make ready, Coleman.’

  ‘I don’t see anything. How do you know?’ he asked.

  ‘I just know. Tonight, though, I’ll only witness the event.’

  ‘What?’ Jolie asked.

  ‘Previously, the Divine worked through me, and I thought this night would be the same.’ She shrugged. ‘It seems I’m wrong.’

  ‘Then how will he...how will — ?’ Sari asked.

  ‘A way will open, and soon, but the Divine has provided other means. Coleman will know the path once it appears.’

  He hugged Sari.

  ‘You’ll succeed, Coleman; return to us when you do,’ she said.

  He turned to Jolie, and they looked into each other’s eyes; he brushed a lock of hair from her forehead and they kissed tenderly. He wanted to do this and knew to his depths it was the right thing. It was also his duty and he’d never shirked one yet. At the same time, he wanted nothing more than to stay right here with the woman he loved. She turned, sitting on a pillow with her legs extended as he lay down with his head in her lap. ‘Sari, come near, we should be together for this,’ Coleman said.

  She knelt next to Jolie, placing her head on Jolie’s shoulder. They smiled down at him. ‘We’ll see you soon, love,’ Jolie said softly.

  Coleman closed his eyes...and stood up.

  He stepped out of himself and smiled at the touching sight; it looked like a tableau of some tragic death. A vertical sliver of light split reality at the center of the room and spread, forming a door directly beneath the orb. A moment later, there was a light click. The Way was open. He stepped to the shimmering barrier and lifted his hand. Could it be this simple? Open a door and walk through? He looked over his shoulder one last time; they still stared down at his body. Even the Matriarch didn’t see what occurred but her lessons echoed in his mind, ‘It is your Journey, Coleman.’ She was more right than she knew.

  He touched the metallic-looking door and found it warm and soft. He pushed and it swung open soundlessly. On the other side of the Shroud four people stood in a room lit by the glow of candles.

  The door swung toward them.

  ‘Do you see everything? Its him, but… Wow! It’s his spirit too! ’ Vincent said in a reverent tone. On the other side of the opening Coleman stood before him, but through him, Vincent saw Coleman laying on the floor with his head in a woman’s lap, her long dark hair spilling down around her face. Another leaned her head on the shoulder of the first and gently stroked his arm. The woman who communicated with Vincent before stood nearby.

  ‘Yes,’ Julie said. ‘He’s lying on the floor.’

  Vincent pointed at Coleman’s ethereally transparent form. ‘But he’s standing right here.’

  ‘We can’t see that, bud,’ Flea said.

  ‘I wish I could see it, but I’m with them. I got nothing,’ Knife said.

  ‘I guess only I can then.’

  Coleman started to walk through the opening and came up short; a barrier still separated them. Vincent saw Coleman’s lips move, but his voice sounded in his head.

  ‘Yes, I can hear you.’

 

  Vincent stepped toward the opening.

  Coleman’s brow furrowed.

  Vincent raised his hands in
the air as if surrendering, putting them opposite Coleman’s. He couldn’t feel a hand, just a flat, soft surface. The dice had felt the same when he’d chosen them in Mr Brown’s shop.

  Coleman repeated the words that the Matriarch had him memorize,

  ‘I understand.’

 

  Total calm permeated him as Vincent answered. ‘Coleman, I willingly allow you to Travel within me and choose to be your Companion.’ He had no idea where the words came from. He felt the shape of hands emerge through the warm barrier and locked his fingers with Coleman’s. As he did, Coleman stepped forward. Vincent instinctively started to step back but then felt heat in his hands. He looked at them and saw their hands melding. As they fused, a brilliant golden light outlined the parts that joined. Vincent held still and let Coleman move into him. The light flared and crackled around them as their arms joined and their chests and faces met. The heat was pleasant and covered his body. A memory flared in his mind; he was a small boy and his mother had just wrapped him in a blanket from the dryer.

  Tears ran down his cheek.

  Here’s Vinni

  Julie saw a bright light shine around Vincent’s hand then slowly, progressively, pan over him like some cosmic body scan. She started forward but stopped. Knife set his hand on her shoulder. As the moving halo of molten gold passed over the last part of his body, there was a blinding flash, and the door ceased to exist. The wooden die fell to the floor.

  ‘Whoa! What was that?’ Flea said.

  Julie stumbled forward, searching for Vincent around the bright afterimage. ‘Vincent?’

  ‘This might help. Close your eyes for a sec,’ Knife said; then he turned on the lights. Vincent lay unmoving, facedown on the floor.

  ‘Easy. Let me get a look at him,’ Knife said, checking Vincent’s vitals. ‘His head is cut. Let’s roll him onto his back; I’ll support his neck.’

  Blood poured from a gash on Vincent’s forehead. She knelt next to him. No! Please let him be okay. ‘Tissues? Do you guys have tissues?’

  Flea grabbed a box off the built-in and handed them to Julie. She gently blotted the blood, revealing a two-inch cut near his hairline. ‘Oh, Vincent,’ she said.

  ‘He must have hit the cabinets when he fell. That’ll need stitches,’ Knife said.

  As they looked at the wound again, tiny tendrils of flesh extended and started knitting the edges of the ragged gash together. Within a half minute it became a thin, white scar that might have been a year old, or five. The precision of the repair was beyond the talent of the best plastic surgeon.

  She looked up at Knife. His eyes were the size of saucers, reflecting her own.

  ‘I — ’

  ‘Ah — ’

  ‘Yeah.’ Knife nodded. ‘I agree.’

  She blinked. Had she really seen that? Julie checked him again, but Vincent’s face was serene. ‘Oh,’ she whispered. ‘His black eye is gone!’

  ‘It must have something to do with Coleman,’ Flea said.

  Julie switched positions, trying to recreate the scene from the other world. ‘Lift his head, please.’ She slipped her legs under, and Knife set Vincent’s head in her lap. ‘Turn the lights back off, too.’

  They must have understood what she was doing, as Flea moved to where the blonde woman had been while Knife stood where Gladys was.

  ‘Vincent.’ She gently ran her fingers through his long dark hair. ‘Vincent, wake up.’

  ‘Vincent.’

  ‘Come on, love.’

  ‘Vincent?’

  Coleman heard a voice, soft and caring, calling someone.

  Vincent heard Julie’s gentle voice calling his name.

  They opened their eyes. Everything looked strange, different; it had an unexpected clarity. His head was in her lap, just as it had been, but the face wasn’t Jolie’s, and an expressive young man had replaced Sari. He held his sudden panic in check. The mustachioed guy stood in for the Matriarch.

  Vincent smiled up at Julie. Her eyes widened and she smiled back.

  ‘How...are you?’ she asked.

  Coleman? Is this how we talk? Vincent thought.

 

  Everything is brighter, clearer.

 

  That’s Julie, my...girlfriend.

 

  No, I mean, yes. She is...the woman I love.

 

  Vincent grinned and felt his mouth shift strangely, the right of his top lip curling slightly. Julie and Jolie; that could get confusing.

  ‘Vincent?’ Julie asked.

 

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was having a little internal dialog.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her eyes rounded. ‘You can speak with him?’

  ‘Yes, easily. He agrees with me.’

  Her eyebrows lowered. ‘About what?’

  ‘He thinks you’re beautiful, too.’ They grinned at her.

  She blushed, and her mouth formed an oval, which she covered with her hand.

  Do you want to try speaking? Vincent asked.

 

  Hey...we have to find out how this works. Right? Just...be careful.

  The room spun before Vincent’s eyes then stopped. He felt dislocated, as if he floated above the floor. His mouth opened and sounds came out, ‘Fundis le ombala. Duas jo tempenastoos.’ The room started spinning again and the edges of his vision grew fuzzy. Red dots swam before him and the lights faded. Something cold splashed in his face.

  ‘The power of Christ compels you. Out evil spirit,’ Knife said.

  Vincent sputtered and things cleared.

  ‘What the heck, Knife?’ Julie yelled.

  Knife stood over him with an empty plastic container. He shrugged. ‘It works in the movies. And see, he looks better.’

  Okay that didn’t work.

 

  You heard that?

 

  This is gonna take some getting used to.

  Vincent sat up and Flea handed him a towel. ‘Sorry, guys, it’s my fault. We tried letting Coleman speak.’

  Julie patted his back. ‘Maybe that’s not such a good idea.’

  ‘Coleman wants you to know it’s an honor and a pleasure to meet you...and thanks for the bath.’ He looked back at Julie and saw her hand in front of her mouth again. She looked unsure whether to laugh or scream. Knife inhaled sharply, and Flea jumped to his feet.

  ‘What?’ Vincent asked.

  She lowered her hand. ‘You...sound like you but...not.’

  ‘You sort of have a slight Irish accent,’ Flea said.

 

  Vincent laughed. ‘It must be the Joining. We won’t need any more holy water, Knife.’

  He grinned. ‘Good thing. That was all I had.’

  ‘Hello, Coleman. Welcome, ummm, to our world.’ Julie managed to say, then smiled like it was an afterthought.

  ‘The pleasure is ours, Julie.’

 

  Ah. Yes, I felt the same way. But at least we aren’t passing out.

 

  ‘Julie, sorry; we were having another discussion.’

  She smiled. ‘I figured.’

  ‘Coleman left the woman he loves to come here... So he’s glad to have you around. It — ’

 

  ‘Our emotions are all...mixed together,’
Vincent said.

  She nodded and blushed.

  Flea snickered and Vincent looked up at him. Flea shrugged. ‘So, he’s got a thing for your gal?’

  Vincent shrugged back. ‘I know...it’s weird, but yeah, kinda. To top it off their names are really close. Hers is Jolie.’

  ‘Julie and Jolie,’ Knife said. ‘Talk about a coincidence.’

  ‘We agree,’ Vincent said with a grin. ‘But we’ll try not to get you confused.’

  She nodded. ‘And I’ll try to be understanding if you do.’

  Vincent smiled. I guess I’m stuck with your lopsided grin, huh?

  They both laughed.

  Vincent put a hand down and pushed to one knee.

  ‘You want some help?’ Knife asked, offering a hand.

  That’s Knife.

 

  My other friend is Flea.

 

  The name fits; you’ll see.

  ‘Thank you, Knife.’ He took the offered hand and stood, leaning on Knife’s arm.

  ‘Flea, Knife, it’s good to meet you both.’

  ‘Is Vincent still around?’ Flea hesitated. ‘Or is he gone?’

  ‘It’s me, Flea. I’m just letting you know what Coleman said.’

  ‘Ah...’ Flea replied.

  Coleman and Vincent looked down at themselves. Holding their hand up, they opened and closed it slowly, making a fist. They could see the fist before them but also the slight image of another of their fists occupying the same spot.

 

  Me too.

  Julie asked, ‘Is there something we should call you, or should we just use Vincent?’

 

  Yes, but the guest needs recognition too.

  They thought for a moment. Does that sound okay? Vincent asked.

 

  We have to find a way for you not to see or hear what I’m thinking. You know, when we want.

 

  They smiled.

  Vincent concentrated, trying to use his voice only. ‘Hi, guys, it’s me.’

  ‘Oh, Vincent!’ Julie kissed him fiercely, holding him tight; then drew back, looking into his eyes. ‘You’re here.’