When Through Deep Waters

by Rachelle Dekker

  Alicen could feel the heavy stir of sorrow collecting in her chest. Standing so close to Jane here, feeling her touch, seeing her hopeful expression. It was agony, and Alicen wanted to retreat.

  Reading her mind, Jane replied, “Pain isn’t the enemy; it’s time to remember who you are.”

  The mother who murdered her daughter.

  “The light of the world,” Jane said.

  A tear dripped off Alicen’s chin and splashed against her collarbone. She could feel the pull to the water explode through her system. She wanted to be transformed, renewed. She wanted to find the freedom her spirit sang of.

  Jane gave Alicen’s hand a tiny pull and smiled with so much joy Alicen thought her own heart might burst. “Come. I will show you.”

  The other voice may have been screaming inside her mind, but Alicen could hardly hear it now. She was too taken with the song of the children that started to fill the room and echo off the tiled walls.

  When through the deep waters I call you to go,

  the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow.

  When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,

  my grace, all-sufficient, shall be thy supply.

  Alicen followed as Jane led her to the water’s edge and into the warm waves. The water swirled around her ankles and then calves as she waded waist deep beside the reflection of her daughter. Power surged up her body and into the deepest parts of her being. Alicen closed her eyes as the waters lapped up against her chest, moving without the pull of the elements, swishing around her on their own, warming her shoulders, calling her deeper.

  The small hand that had led her this far vanished, and without opening her eyes Alicen knew Jane was gone. The waters were hers alone to walk through. As the crystal liquid licked the back of her neck, the pain began. The shame of all her perceived failures, the loss of those she’d loved, the rejection from her mother and husband, the anger of feeling used, the terror of never being enough, the lack of perfection that made her feel weak. Everything all at once surrounded her as her head sank below the water’s surface.

  It started in her heels and filled every cell in her body, until she was drowning in her own suffering. The desire to thrash against the painful waves, to get lost in her fear, to run from the pain, was almost too strong to resist. And for a brief moment she thought maybe she would die here in this abandoned pool, a victim of her own sorrow. It was all she could do not to open her mouth and let the water blot her out of existence. Then, through the threat of overwhelming pain, the voices cut in.

  “My grace, all-sufficient, shall be thy supply.”

  After the choir of children, a line from Grandma Joe’s letter tapped at the back of her memory and captured her heart. Learn to forgive yourself because you’re forgiven.

  Let go, Alicen; let it all go.

  And with a leap of faith, Alicen let go of the pain she’d held for so long and began to believe she was more than the lies she had been taught. Just as the pain had started in the bottoms of her feet, now a swell of peace took hold. It inched upward through her body, erasing the pain, destroying the shame and agony of the lies she’d believed for so long and replacing them with truth. A truth she had long forgotten. You are the light of the world.

  Her body eased as the peace spread up into her chest and out through the tips of her fingers, the words of truth replacing her broken cells with light. Healing her from the inside out. Freeing her from the condemnation she had thought was her eternal reality. He is the vine. You are one with that vine, a branch. Abide there.

  Joy burst into her mind as the terror of all her gathered inadequacies fizzled out. Alicen opened her mouth and began to laugh, unable to contain the pleasure that was surrounding her figure. Water should have drained into her body, but all she felt was warmth. She was floating, caught up in the magic of the renewing waters into which she had been called. You in the vine and the vine in you.

  Alicen’s heart swelled with understanding as the light of joy, peace, and hope filled every space. She felt whole and certain of who she was. Forgiven. Renewed. Transformed. For the first time since she was a little girl, Alicen felt like light.

  26

  Victoria walked through the second-floor hallway of the main house, headed to Alicen’s room. She absently greeted nurses and patients as they passed, her mind fixed on her destination. Her hand softly held the small plastic tube of her personally designed medication. A new dose, created that morning, intended for Alicen.

  Small-enough amounts to attack her kidneys slowly without raising suspicions. Easily transferred into pill sleeves, colorless and undetectable. One of these, three times a day, plopped into the little white cup along with Alicen’s other medication, and no one would be the wiser.

  And the debt would be paid.

  You reap what you sow.

  Alicen was finally reaping.

  Victoria reached Alicen’s room and rapped softly at the door. No response. She slowly twisted the lever, and the door clicked open. Holding it just ajar, she looked in and paused at the scene. Bed empty, chair moved beside the bed, paper bag on the floor, magazine laid open across the chair. Victoria pressed the door fully open and stepped inside. She glanced toward the attached bathroom and saw the door open, the small room empty. Alicen wasn’t here.

  Victoria stepped out into the hall and called to a nurse standing a few feet away, checking the chart of another patient. “Where is Alicen McCaffrey, the patient in this room?”

  The nurse glanced up from her clipboard and looked a bit confused.

  “She wasn’t granted permission to leave her room, and yet here it is, empty,” Victoria said. “Can you explain that to me?”

  The older nurse gave a slight head tilt and grin. “She was up and moving, which she hasn’t done for days. Looked a lot better too.”

  Looking better? The words grated at Victoria’s mind. Alicen should be barely holding on to life, not feeling better, not up and walking around. She was supposed to be suffering.

  The best laid plans turn to rot.

  “So you let her just walk out?” Victoria asked.

  “She was accompanied by her friend.”

  “What friend?”

  “Oh, I don’t know her name. The only visitor she gets, something with an L maybe.”

  Worms. Filthy worms.

  Rage boiled inside its prison and threatened to spill over into her guts. Victoria resisted the urge to reach out and slap the fat old nurse across her plump cheek. She stepped closer to the woman and dropped her tone to a harsh but contained volume. “The patient in this room is a high-risk resident who under no circumstance is to be out of watchful view as designated by me.”

  “I didn’t see any harm—” the nurse started.

  “Your job is not to make choices on what you deem harmful or not harmful to the patients.” Victoria inched even closer, the nurse becoming visibly uncomfortable at the look Victoria was nailing her with. “Your job is to follow the orders given by those who are trained to deal with patient behavior.”

  “I—I’m sor—” the nurse stumbled.

  “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know; they just went for a walk.”

  You tried to cut the worm in half, but it’s better to squish it whole.

  Victoria bit the tip of her tongue and tried to control the heat rising through her chest. “You have no idea what this patient is capable of. You’ve endangered her and all those around her.”

  She has to pay, little Victoria. If not her, then it will have to be you.

  The nurse opened her mouth to apologize or defend herself—Victoria wasn’t sure which—but she didn’t have time for this anymore. Alicen needed to be retrieved quickly.

  “Place the campus on lockdown,” Victoria said.

  “I don’t think that’s nece—” the nurse started again.

  “We are only in this situation because you thought outside of your pay grade,” Victoria snapped. Several nurses and patients standing
close were watching now, but Victoria’s rage was taking on a life of its own, and she was struggling to shut it down. Another forceful inhale. “If you plan to continue working here, I suggest you begin the lockdown procedure immediately,” she said.

  The nurse just stood stunned for a beat, her mouth slightly open, her eyes searching Victoria’s face as if she were still confused by what Victoria was asking.

  You’re failing, little Victoria.

  “Now!” Victoria yelled.

  The nurse nodded, snapped out of her dumb stupor, and moved to the half-circle desk across the wide walkway. She picked up the phone receiver and set the lockdown procedure into motion. The other foot traffic in the hallway started to move, knowing what was coming next. Within seconds a shrill alarm buzzed overhead. Three sharp shrieks followed by softer beeps that signaled the rest of the staff to return all patients to their rooms, place all visitors in the common room, and lock down the other buildings until the perceived threat could be contained.

  Her failure is your failure.

  “I will not fail,” she said under her breath as she moved to join the search for Alicen.

  Somewhere in the deep corners of Alicen’s mind, a muffled shriek stirred her to consciousness. It echoed through her head and roused her from stillness. Her eyes opened, both warmth and cold registering on her face. She swallowed, uncertainty filling her brain. She rolled over, and the cold that had been on her cheek lifted.

  Alicen opened her eyes fully, the distant beeping drawing closer as it sank into her reality. She was staring up at a dimly lit ceiling, lying against something hard, an alarm seeping in from the outside to fill the silence. And then, all at once, she remembered where she was. The events of her surrender to the powerful waves returned.

  She shot up and looked to either side. She was lying on the white square-tiled floor that surrounded the pool. It was cold under her fingers, and she pushed herself up to standing. It took effort; her mind was groggy, and her body registered her brain’s commands slowly.

  Alicen stepped closer to the water and was taken aback by the normality of it. It was simple pool water. Hadn’t it been filled with colors and light? Hadn’t it sung to her, called to her? She lifted her eyes and scanned the rest of the room, looking for children, looking for Jane. But she was alone. She strained to listen past the alarm that was screaming overhead for the familiar whispers, the choir of angelic voices, but heard nothing.

  She tucked a stray hair away from her face and then pulled her hand back. Her hair was dry. She reached down, her eyes following her fingers. Her clothes were dry. Hadn’t she submerged herself? Hadn’t she been transformed?

  Had she imagined it all? A sliver of fear snaked along the inside of her gut, and then she felt it. The calming new sense of peace that had been awoken while hearing the words of her grandmother’s letter. The hope and joy that had been ignited as she let Jane lead her to the water. The belief in the power of whose she was that had overwhelmed her below the water’s surface.

  Alicen closed her eyes, blocked out the warning still ringing overhead, and searched for the truth. And there she found it, swimming in her blood, melding to her bones. The light of forgiveness, renewal, transformation. The waters had washed away the broken vow she’d made with her shame and replaced it with the promise of her true identity. She was the light of the world. Connected to the vine.

  Emotion rolled up through her chest, and a giggle emerged. Instinctively she reached her hand up to cover her lips and then remembered she was alone. She dropped her hand and spun in a circle, a thrill of joy twisting around her. She felt light, physically free, as though if she leaped high enough maybe she could fly.

  “Wouldn’t that be something?” a little voice said. “To fly?”

  Alicen turned and saw the four children standing across the room. Evie. Beck, Tate, and Roxie. Ministering spirits. Sent to help her see.

  “How can all of this be real?” Alicen asked.

  Evie gave her a quizzical look. “You still have doubts?”

  Alicen thought it through a moment and then smiled. No, she thought. What had happened to her had to be real. They had to be real. They had brought her all this way to believe. Or maybe to remember. “Why children?”

  “Were you expecting something else?” Evie asked.

  Tears filled Alicen’s eyes. She could never have expected this. She wasn’t sure why, but her emotions were just too overwhelming to be contained. She believed. She saw them standing there and without a doubt believed. The pure shock of it vibrated like a shorted electric wire in her chest.

  “Hold on to that powerful belief, Alicen,” Evie said. “It will always set you free.”

  Something cracked loudly above them and drew Alicen’s attention up to the railed walkway that surrounded the pool area. A large male nurse stumbled into the room, his gaze swinging back and forth until it landed on Alicen. “Hey!” he yelled.

  Fear spiked inside Alicen’s chest, covering the perfect peace she’d just been feeling. She took a step away from him as he moved for the stairs that descended down to her level. “You can’t be in here,” he said, his tone stern and unkind.

  Alicen backed away farther, all of her instincts screaming at her to run. Another crack echoed behind her, and she spun to see a campus security guard walking in through a second door she hadn’t even noticed before along the back wall. The guard glanced over Alicen’s shoulder toward the nurse and gave a small nod.

  Then he took a step toward her. “Alicen,” he said, “we’ve been looking for you.”

  Panic erupted through Alicen’s body, and she inched backward away from the guard, remembering that another approached from behind. She twisted her head around to make sure the nurse wasn’t too close, but either way she looked, she was sandwiched in.

  “It’s all right,” the guard said. “Dr. Flowers wants to see you, is all.”

  Victoria. No, Alicen thought. She didn’t want to be numb anymore. She didn’t need to be; she’d found salvation and peace. True freedom.

  “I’m fine,” Alicen tried. “Really. I’ll just go back to my room.”

  “I don’t think so, Alicen. You look a little unraveled to me,” the guard said.

  “I’m not,” Alicen said. “I’m fine; I just needed some fresh air.” She backed away from the guard, who was still approaching, but found herself getting closer to the nurse.

  “We’re just going to help you get back, okay?” the guard said.

  Alicen glanced behind her and saw the nurse pull something from his pocket. A syringe.

  “No, please—I’m fine. I’ll walk back peacefully,” Alicen said.

  “Of course you will. We’re just going to make sure of it,” the guard said.

  “Please don’t,” Alicen pleaded. “I’m not crazy; I just needed some fresh air.”

  They were closing in on her, and she had nowhere to go.

  “Don’t you worry,” the guard said. “We’re going to make sure you get taken care of.”

  The nurse was only a foot away when Alicen’s nerves took over and she bolted forward. Her sudden movement caught the security guard off balance, and she slipped right past his outstretched reach. She rushed for the back door he’d entered but only made it a couple of steps before large hands caught up with her.

  They grabbed her shoulders and yanked her backward. An involuntary scream escaped her mouth as fear swelled in her mind. “Stop! Please don’t!” she cried, but it changed nothing. The guard wrapped Alicen tightly and lifted her off her feet as the nurse quickly found an open skin patch on her arm and pricked her deeply with the syringe’s needled tip.

  A flash of pain cut down her arm, and then her world began to swim. “No, please . . .” But her words drifted off as the drugs took her under.

  “There you go,” the guard said. “See? No problems here, Alicen.”

  Alicen tried to fight against the medication as it sank its teeth into her brain and filled her body with lead, but it was impossib
le. It took her nearly as quickly as it had entered her system, and then she was gone.

  Alicen roused from her foggy state slowly. Her eyes inched open as the familiar sight of her Clover Mountain room came into view. She tried to move her shoulder, but it seemed to be weighed down by bricks. Her entire body felt heavy as she painfully tilted her chin down to see that she was restrained.

  Alicen shifted under the thick straps, but they held her tightly in place against her mattress. She tilted her head back to see the world outside had faded to night; her room was dark. How long had she been here?

  Her thoughts were slow as a mixture of drugs swam through her bloodstream. She tried to take in the rest of the room, tried to search for answers to questions that formed like molasses in her mind. Shadows swept across the floor and ignited an idea deep inside her brain. Shadows were only shadows, she thought.

  Alicen, you can hear us, Alicen.

  The whisper in her brain was familiar and soothing. Alicen reached for the voice, felt the urge to pull its power closer. She knew it well, was changed because of it, and even with the heavy dose of medication stifling her awareness, she was sure of one thing: the truth of who she was. It broke through the chemical restraints, expanded through her entire body, and set her soul ablaze with light. For a moment the room faded from view, and Alicen felt as though she were back in the waters, perfect love flowing all around her, transforming her mind and setting her free.

  A soft click popped across the room, and a blip of light snuffed out some of the room’s darkness. It pulled Alicen’s attention back from the waters to her room and illuminated the presence of someone else.

  “Hello, Alicen,” the voice said. Female, soft and dangerous. Victoria.

  Victoria walked from the corner where the lamp she’d brought to life stood and stepped toward Alicen’s bed. “You’re finally awake. I’ve been waiting,” she said.

  The hairs on Alicen’s arms stood at attention, her pulse beating behind her ears as the woman strode toward her. And as her face came into view, laced with shadows, eyes filled with hate, Alicen’s heart began to race. Her animalistic instincts were screaming at her to run for her life.