by A. A. Volts
***
Since I was still in the shower and nowhere near being done, I reached for my cell and sent Jonas a text saying I was still getting ready and that he should come in. I also advised him to use the side door as a precaution; I didn’t trust our porch when it snowed. Honestly, I don’t know why I even bothered; I knew he was going to ignore me.
As usual when it came to doing anything with Carla, I couldn’t decide on what to wear. After much deliberation, I decided to go with a careless look, which was funny, considering that the careless look took more planning than if I was getting dressed up for a black-tie event.
“Hurry up!” Jonas screamed from downstairs.
“I’m coming,” I replied as I pulled my shirt over my head.
“Can you believe that my parents aren’t back yet?” I heard him complaining.
“My dad isn’t back yet, either,” I said as I walked past the Sorrows Hallway.
“How much snow is on the ground?” I asked once I got downstairs.
“To be honest, I don’t know. I’ll check the Weather Channel,” said Jonas, looking for the TV remote.
“Seems like we’re in for a heck of a storm. Currently, we are looking at about ten inches of snow by the time this is over—and that’s on top of the six to eight inches we already got thus far. Stay safe and stay tuned for up-to-the-minute information,” said the weatherman.
“That’s a lot of snow,” I said.
I had barely finished the sentence when my cell rang. The caller ID said it was my dad.
“Hey, Dad, I was thinking about calling you,” I said.
“How is everything at home?”
“Everything is fine,” I replied, rolling my eyes and wishing he would get straight to the point.
“Son, I don’t think I’ll be able to drive home today—there’s just too much snow on the ground—I should have some more money in my room if you need to order dinner,” my dad said, sounding worried. “Why don’t you go over to Jonas’s house and asked the Webers if you can stay there tonight?”
He was concerned about leaving me home alone during a snowstorm.
“Sure, Dad, I’ll do that, don’t worry about a thing. I’ll be fine,” I lied. After all, I had no plans on sleeping over at Jonas’s house.
The truth was that I knew the wheels were in motion for something extraordinary to happen that night.
“I’ll be home first thing in the morning. If you need anything just call my cell. Oh, Mark, I…” My dad paused.
“I know, Dad, don’t worry,” I replied to relieve the awkwardness.
“Okay then, call me if you need anything at all,” he said again before he hung up.
I wondered if he was going to be able to get any sleep. It would be the first time he had slept away from home since my mother had passed away.
“Your dad isn’t coming home?” asked Jonas.
“Nope, he’s snowed-in at Phil’s house,” I replied, tossing my cell on the coffee table.
“I should call my parents… maybe they’re snowed-in too,” said Jonas hopefully.
“Mom, where are you guys at?” Jonas asked into his phone.
After a few seconds, he replied, “Oh, don’t worry Mom, we’ll ask Mr. Ryser if we can sleep in their guest bedroom for the night.” He smiled, then continued, “Sure, Mom, we’ll be fine. If we need anything, we’ll call, I promise.”
He hung up and said, “Parent-free night, we should throw a party.”
“Nah, all we need is to choose a nice movie and get some dinner,” I said as I reached for the tablet device on the living-room coffee table.
“Where’s Carla?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
“Oh, she’s taking a bath,” replied Jonas, not giving it a second thought while I secretly daydreamed about her.
“Where should we order from?” I asked.
“I don’t know, wherever we order from, it will be a while before they can get here with all this snow,” said Jonas.
I was browsing the Internet for a nearby pizza place when the doorbell rang.
“That has to be Carla,” said Jonas as he got up to open the door. “It’s about time!” he said, carelessly opening the front door wider than necessary. He insisted on using the front door even though he knew I didn’t want people near the porch when it snowed.
“It’s not my fault, you hogged the bathroom, doing God knows what,” said Carla, not looking at either one of us. “Did you guys order dinner yet?”
“Not yet, I’m on it now,” I said, looking into her beautiful eyes and seeing her soul.
“Just a plain cheese pie is fine with me,” said Carla, shaking the snow off her coat, head, and boots.
“I want a pepperoni pizza,” said Jonas, voicing his preference for a meaty diet, which he boasted was superior.
“Yep, I’m ordering two pizzas and some mozzarella sticks,” I said as I pushed the Return button on the computer to complete the order.
“Sis, I have something to tell you,” said Jonas.
“What?” she asked, looking at us.
“Mom and Dad aren’t coming home today.”
“Really? Why?”
“They’re stranded at Aunt Flores’s, so we’re supposed to sleep over here tonight,” said Jonas, excited.
“And I’m supposed to sleep over at your house,” I added, apparently confusing her.
“Mom and Dad asked us to ask Mr. Ryser if we could sleep here. But Mr. Ryser is also snowed-in and asked Mark to ask Mom and Dad to sleep at our house,” explained Jonas.
“That will work out just fine. That way, we can all be under the same roof when we try to astral travel,” replied Carla, much to my surprise.
“You know, they won’t be happy once they find out,” I said, feeling guilty.
“Well, it isn’t completely our fault,” said Jonas.
“That’s true,” I agreed.
“I wonder when the pizza will get here, I’m so hungry,” said Jonas, rubbing his belly.
“It will take them a while to get here. Heck, I’m surprised they are even open on a day like today,” I said.
“I hope not, because I had a rather light lunch,” said Jonas.
“Sure you did, Mr. Two-appetizers, plus a meal and soda,” replied Carla, laughing and rolling her eyes.
“You’re paying for the pizza, right?” I asked Jonas, joking.
“No, I’m not. I’m completely broke, and besides, we are the ones babysitting you, so you really should be buying us dinner,” Jonas said, laughing.
We all laughed and then sat down to watch some TV while we waited for dinner.
Three minutes later, Carla got up, apparently bored of the reality TV show Jonas insisted on watching. She went over to my computer desk.
After another fifteen minutes—which I’m sure felt more like hours to Jonas—the doorbell finally rang.
“It must be the pizza guy,” said Jonas.
“Where did you order from? Ah, never mind. I’ll find out soon enough,” said Jonas as I got up to open the door.
I opened the door expecting a delivery guy but instead found a pretty delivery girl dressed in red and yellow.
I got the pizzas and closed the door but not before noticing that the bright red sky promised even more snow throughout the night.
I headed to the kitchen to get some plates and silverware. Thankfully, the dishes were done, a rarity since neither my father nor I liked doing the dishes. Luckily, we had been eating off disposable dishes for the past few days.
I returned to the living room carrying three plates, forks, and knives for all of us, while Carla got some glasses and the soda from the fridge.
Jonas was already eating a slice of his pepperoni pizza with his hands by the time we got there.
Carla placed the chilled soda bottle on the table and grabbed herself some mozzarella sticks—which I happened to know were one of her favorite appetizers—and sat back in front of the computer.
After dinner, Jonas a
nd I opted to rent a movie online, while Carla preferred to read her book on the computer desk.
***
Once the movie finished, we put on the local channel to watch some of Jonas’s favorite Saturday night programming.
Just after 10:00 p.m., the EAS (Emergency Alert System) interrupted regular programming to announce that a severe weather alert was in effect for greater Boston. The storm system was about to drop buckets of snow, and temperatures were expected to drop drastically.
“Oh goody-goody,” said Jonas. “Where’s your laptop?”
“It’s in my dad’s office. He was fixing it for me. I’m not sure if it’s done.”
Jonas got up and headed to my dad’s office. I immediately regretted telling him where the laptop was. Jonas wasn’t exactly the most careful person in the world. I might even say that he was cursed with very careless hands.
“Don’t make a mess in his office, or I’ll have to answer for it,” I warned as he walked away, but I didn’t think he even heard me.
I took the opportunity to secretly admire Carla as she read peacefully.
“What?” she asked, smiling at me. For a second, I considered telling her how beautiful she was, but in the end shyness won.
“Nothing,” I replied after a couple seconds of awkward silence.
A few moments later, I heard heavy footsteps and a peculiar dragging sound, so I looked and saw Jonas carrying my twenty-one inch laptop, which weighed almost the same as a desktop. Jonas was almost tripping on the power cord as it dragged on the floor.
“Watch out, you almost tripped,” I said, pointing out his mistake, even though I knew it was useless. It wasn’t the first time he did that, and it wouldn’t be the last.
“Sorry, mate,” Jonas replied, smiling. It never ceased to amaze me how pretty much everything seemed funny to him.
“What are you going to do with that?” I asked.
“I want to check on something,” Jonas said.
“What?”
“Well, you know how we aren’t sure if this astral projection is real or not? I think there is a way we can find out for sure,” said Jonas as he browsed the Internet.
“Don’t search for stuff like that. That computer is monitored,” I said.
“Relax, you can just tell him that it was me. Besides, sooner or later, you’ll have to tell him what you’ve been up to anyway,” replied Jonas. “Forget this, I’ll devise my own experiment,” said Jonas, pushing the computer away. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll each write a word on a piece of paper and lock them in different rooms of the house. Then we’ll go to sleep and try to astral project. Once out of our bodies we’ll each go to all of the rooms and read the word on the paper,” he explained. “That way, in the morning once we get up, we’ll write down what we saw in each room and compare the results. If they match, it was real, and if they don’t, then it wasn’t.”
It seemed like a clever idea—a true rarity when it comes from Jonas.
“But that will only work if nobody cheats,” said Carla, looking at Jonas.
“Even then, we would all have to cheat for the experiment to fail. Say I cheated, then only my results would be correct. But if all of our results match, then we’ll know it was real… unless of course we all cheated, but why would we do that if we’re trying to find out the truth?” I explained.
“Let’s do it then,” said Carla. “Mark, you can place your note in the basement—”
“I don’t want to do the basement, Jonas can have it,” I said.
“Why? Are you scared of the basement?” asked Jonas without realizing at first that my mother’s belongings were in there.
“Oops, never mind, mate, I got it.”
“Okay, then, so Jonas can place his note in the basement, lock the door and keep the key. I’ll do the same but in the guest room, and you can have your dad’s office. That way, we will know for a fact in the morning if we actually left our physical bodies or not,” Carla said.
“Why am I the one that gets stuck with the basement?” asked Jonas.
“It doesn’t matter who gets the basement. I can do the basement if you’re too scared,” replied Carla impatiently.
“No, it is fine, I was just kidding,” replied Jonas, probably lying.
“Are you guys sure you want to do this?” I asked, feeling guilty for involving my best friends in that situation. After all, I had a feeling I was in way over my head.
“I have actually learned a good bit about astral travel so I want to try it, besides, I’m curious to meet this Phasma guy. I’m interested to know what exactly he’s guarding, so like it or not, I’m doing this,” said Carla, reminding me again why I loved her.
“Isn’t this ‘Guardian of Threshold’ supposed to look different to each person?” asked Jonas.
“According with what I read, yes, he’s supposed to be the sum of all our fears and negative emotions. He’ll probably look something like Casper to me because I’m so nice,” replied Carla, joking and laughing.
“For the record, I’m against this. Just promise me that you’ll both be careful please,” I said.
“Houston, we have a problem,” cried Jonas.
“What’s the problem?” asked Carla.
“Where are we going to sleep?” asked Jonas.
“Good question,” I said, limiting myself to just those words as I pretended to be truly concerned while I secretly hoped someone else would come up with the only sensible solution, which was to sleep in my room because all the other rooms in the house were being used for the experiment. However, I wasn’t about to come out and say that.
“Why don’t we all sleep in Mark’s room?” suggested Carla. I was sure she remembered that my bed had another bed stored underneath. After all, the three of us had used them as a trampoline so many times in the past.
“I guess we don’t have a choice, but Mom and Dad can’t find out about this, otherwise I’ll be hearing about it for the rest of my life,” said Jonas.
We seemed determined to explore the astral realm, although I suspected each of us had our own reasons: I wanted to see my deceased mother again; I could only guess why Jonas was interested, it probably had something to do with astral sex; and as far as what drove Carla? Probably her sense of adventure and natural curiosity—perhaps it was her willingness to help a friend in need.
“Why are you interested in astral traveling?” I asked Carla.
“I always wanted to visit the world, especially Egypt, and the thought of being able to go wherever I want every night appeals to me very much,” said Carla.
“Really? We can go anywhere we want?” asked Jonas with renewed interest.
“According to what I read, we can go anywhere we want as long as we can think of it. The astral is a realm of thought,” said Carla.
“Do you mean to say that our thoughts can become a reality there?” asked Jonas, looking skeptical.
“That’s how it’s supposed to work, but I guess we’ll find out. If we’re successful, that is,” said Carla as she got up to look for something.
“Where are you going?” asked Jonas.
“I’ll be back,” she simply replied.
“I don’t think she likes to tell you what she’s going to do,” I said sarcastically.
“I know she doesn’t, but she asks me all the time,” replied Jonas.
The last couple days had been the worst and best days of my life. I had a real chance of seeing my mother again. I also had an equal chance of running across Phasma. Just knowing with certainty that spirits existed beyond physicality brought me hope. Although part of me still couldn’t believe that I had spoken to a real spirit.
Carla returned a few minutes later and handed me a piece of blank paper and a permanent marker. “Here is yours. Make sure you use big letters and write where nobody will see you.” She held up the key to the guest bedroom and boasted, “I already did mine.”
“Where’s mine?” cried Jonas, holding his empty hands in the air.
> “If you actually stopped playing with the computer, you would see that it’s right there,” said Carla, pointing to the computer desk.
“Okay, I’ll go first… I guess, since I have to go all the way down to the basement. You guys wait here,” said Jonas.
“Place it somewhere it can be easily seen, and don’t forget to use big letters,” said Carla.
Jonas walked away without giving his sister any hint that he heard her.
“I guess I should go do my experiment now that Jonas is busy so he won’t peek,” I said, getting up.
“And what makes you so sure that I won’t peek?” said Carla as her bright smile lit up the room.
“I know you won’t, I trust you,” I said.
“Don’t forget—”
“I know, big letters and obvious place,” I said, smiling.
I entered my dad’s office. The smell of leather from his chair and sofa was overpowering. The room was dark and gloomy, totally devoid of color, life, and style. Even turning on the light didn’t help. It still was bland. Although I was somewhat used to the plainness of his office, I noticed the heaviness in the air every time I entered it. I even gave him a plant once to bring some life into his office, but it died within a couple weeks. I suspected it had something to do with lack of water. Last time I checked, plants didn’t do so well on leftover coffee.
I sat at his desk determined to write as big as I could to please Carla, but I ran into a problem when it dawned on me that I didn’t know what to write. Naturally, I looked around my dad’s office for clues. That was when I noticed some brochures on his desk about houses and apartment buildings.
What’s going on? I wondered. Was my dad planning a move? I’d been trying to persuade him to move for a long time, but he always refused. He even got mad about it. Was he seriously considering moving now? All these questions and more flooded my mind at once. But I didn’t expect to feel the way I felt; suddenly, I realized that I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to be anywhere else but in that old house. It was comforting to know that Carla was just across the street.
I liked our house… well, with the exception of maybe our porch, which needed urgent and serious repairs, and the walls could use some paint. But it was nothing that couldn’t be fixed.