by Bill Myers
“Good ol’ Priscilla,” Ryan chuckled. He threw a grin at Becka. “Some things never change.”
Becka didn’t smile back. The alarm in her head was much louder. She was sure Julie was wrong. That what she had seen couldn’t be real. But why? What was wrong?
“Hey, Jules, nice hair.”
Everyone turned to see Krissi and Philip enter. Philip was holding an arrangement of red and white carnations they’d picked up from the gift shop downstairs.
“Oh, guys!” Julie exclaimed as she reached out to take the flowers. “They’re beautiful.” Her voice was getting weaker. She did her best to sound bright and cheery, but there was no missing the exhaustion setting in.
Being his usual sensitive self, Ryan was the first to notice.
“Look, Julie, maybe Beck and I should be going. Let you spend a little time with — ”
“No, please stay,” Julie insisted. She turned to Krissi and Philip. “Ryan and Beck can fill you in on my adventures … but somebody has to tell me what I’ve been missing at school. What’s the latest?”
As All-School Gossip, Krissi knew it was her duty to give the report. “Kind of a slow day,” she said with a shrug. “As far as I know, nobody broke up with anybody. No fights. No arrests.
Nobody new is pregnant — ”
“But you missed a great chemistry quiz.” Ryan grinned.
Philip motioned toward Ryan. “And our boy wonder there, he’s about to become the next school president.”
“Oh, that’s right, nominations were today,” Julie said, disappointed. “I really wanted to run for something.”
“Becka tried to nominate you,” Krissi said, “but she got voted down.”
“They didn’t know when you’d be coming back,” Philip explained.
Julie turned to Becka. She didn’t have to say thanks, it was in her eyes.
“Anyway,” Krissi continued, “elections are in two weeks, and Ryan Riordan is going to win by a landslide.” Ryan chuckled. “Let’s not count our ballots before they’re hatched.”
“You’ll win the election,” Krissi insisted. “I know you will.” Ryan smiled. “We’ll see.”
“No, I’m telling you, you’re going to win.”
“You been borrowing Priscilla’s crystal ball?” Julie teased.
“Better than that.” There was no hiding the twinkle in Krissi’s eyes. “This afternoon, I knew he was going to win the nomination before they finished counting the ballots.” She dug into her handbag. “Here, I’ll show you.” The group exchanged glances as Krissi continued to dig.
Becka cleared her throat. She tried to keep the question light and casual. “How’d you know that, Krissi?”
“Remember, in the mansion, how my hand was writing that stuff without me controlling it?”
Becka nodded.
“Well, the neatest thing is starting to happen.” She kept digging. “I’ve been doing a little experimenting, and I think I’ve found a way to get my hand to keep doing it.”
“Krissi,” Julie warned.
“I know, I know,” Krissi answered, “it was scary then, but now I know how to control it.”
“Are you sure that’s, you know … smart?” Becka ventured.
The word “smart” was a wrong choice, and Krissi immediately shot back, “As smart as any of your hocus-pocus stuff.” The words stung, but Becka let them pass.
“Ah, here we go.” Krissi pulled out the pad and flipped it to the page with all the doodles. “See … down here,” she pointed to the bottom of the page. The group moved in closer to look.
“Those are the names of everyone nominated from our class.
And my hand wrote them before Mr. Lowry put them on the board.”
The alarm in Becka’s head sounded louder. She glanced at Ryan. He was still looking at his name on the sheet. Krissi continued, “Then when I got home, I did it again.” She flipped through more pages, found what she was looking for, and ripped it out of the spiral notebook. “It’s a message. It’s for you, Becka.” Rebecca felt a chill.
Krissi held it out to her. “Take a look. I don’t know who’s doing the writing or anything, but it’s not like what we ran into at the mansion. This guy, or whatever it is, sounds pretty friendly.”
Becka took the paper.
“Krissi,” Philip said, “after all we went through at the mansion, are you sure you want to play around with something like that?”
“Why not?” Krissi chirped. “I’m the one controlling it. It doesn’t happen unless I let it.” She turned back to Becka. “Go ahead, read it. Whoever is writing it wanted you to have it.” Becka tried her best to appear calm as she looked to the paper. Unfortunately her hands were shaking. Then there was the familiar chill wrapping itself around her shoulders. There were only three sentences. She read them out loud:
“ ‘You have awakened their powers. Now you must release them. You must allow them to evolve into a higher level of consciousness.’ ”
The alarm that had been sounding in Becka’s head started screaming. She barely heard Julie exclaim, “ ‘Higher level of consciousness’? Are you serious? That’s the exact phrase the Ascension Lady used!”
Chapter 4
Ryan eased the Mustang through the wet, foggy streets. Becka’s house was only ten or fifteen minutes from the hospital, and they were practically there.
“ ‘Awakening their powers’? ” Ryan repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean? ‘Evolve to a higher level of consciousness’?
Sounds like something from Star Wars.” Becka wasn’t smiling. “I knew something was up. When we entered the room … didn’t you feel it? Didn’t you feel something was wrong?”
“You mean with Julie?”
Becka nodded. “And with her going to heaven. It couldn’t have been real. It has to have been some sort of dream or hallucination or …”
Ryan looked at her. It was obvious he had doubts. “Beck, lots of people see angels and light. When people die and come back, lots of them have said they were in heaven and saw that stuff.”
“That’s just it … What was Julie doing in heaven if she wasn’t a Chris tian?”
Ryan threw her another look.
She shrugged. “I know how that sounds. I love Julie too, she’s my best friend. I don’t want to be judgmental or anything, but …” She struggled to put the thought into words.
Ryan finished it for her, “If she’s not a Chris tian, she’s supposed to go to hell.”
Becka winced. “That sounds so harsh.”
“You bet it does.”
Becka looked at him. The scowl across his face told her he disapproved. “But … ,” she ventured, “that’s the whole reason Jesus died on the cross, so we wouldn’t have to go to hell.” Ryan said nothing. The scowl deepened.
She continued, still testing the waters, “I mean, isn’t that why you became a Chris tian?”
“I became a Chris tian because it was the right thing to do. I read that New Testament you gave me, and it made more sense than anything I’d ever read. But as far as hell and all of that …” There was a trace of irritation in his voice. “I don’t know, Beck.
I don’t think I can buy that this super-loving God of ours can send innocent kids to hell.”
Becka nodded. “It’s hard, I know. But the Bible says — ”
“The Bible also says there’s a heaven … a heaven that sounds a lot like the place Julie saw.” He turned to her. “You know the part I’m talking about?”
“Well, sort of …”
He motioned toward the backseat. “Go ahead and check it out.”
Becka turned to the back. Somewhere underneath all those clothes, books, CDs, and magazines was the Bible she had given him. The one he’d been reading almost every day. She started rummaging.
Ryan was an incredibly gifted guy. Unfortunately, neatness wasn’t one of those gifts. She continued the search until Ryan pulled to a stop in front of her house. Then, without even looking, he reached back and produce
d the book. “You just have to know the system.” He grinned.
Becka grinned back. It was good to see him smile again.
They’d only had a few small disagreements — not even real argu-ments — and none of them had gotten out of hand. She was glad this one wouldn’t, either. Not that they didn’t have discussions and debates. When it came to the Bible, they had lots of them.
Ryan always had opinions, but he was also open enough to ask questions or admit when he was wrong. Becka was always honest enough to admit if she didn’t have an answer. But this talk on hell … wasn’t hell, like, a major part of the Chris tian faith?
Still, somewhere, deep inside, Becka had to admit she wondered, too, how such a loving God could send people to such a terrible place.
She watched Ryan flip through the worn pages. There was no denying it. She loved being around this guy. Somehow, without even trying, he made her feel warm and secure and a little trembly all at the same time.
She was clueless what he saw in her. It certainly wasn’t her thin, mousy brown hair, or her five-foot-six, nearly nonexistent figure. And let’s not forget her personality. As best she could figure, she didn’t have one. Turn her loose at a party, and you could always depend on her to stand off to the side, doing her best imitation of a potted plant.
But not Ryan. He loved being around people. And they loved being around him. And for some unexplained reason, he especially seemed to enjoy being around her.
As he pored over the pages, his thick black hair fell into his eyes. Becka wanted to brush it back, to tenderly push it aside, but she knew better. Not now.
“Ah, here we go.” He tossed his hair back. “It’s in the last book of the Bible, Revelation.” He began reading: “ ‘He showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal.’ ” Ryan looked up.
Becka nodded. “It’s true, that’s exactly what she said she saw.” He continued. “There’s more: ‘The angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb, down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month.’ ” Again, he stopped and looked up.
Becka took a slow, deep breath. “Then what Julie saw really exists.”
Ryan nodded. “So I was right. Non-Chris tians do make it into heaven.”
Becka frowned. “I don’t understand. I mean, the Bible … it talks about heaven. We know it’s real. But was Julie really there?” She shook her head in confusion. “The Bible talks about hell, too. But … I mean, it … ” She dropped off, trying to piece it all together. Suddenly she had an idea. She looked at Ryan. “What time do you have?”
Ryan looked at his watch. “A little before nine. Why?” Becka opened her car door. “I know someone who might be able to help.”
“What? Who?”
She stepped out of the car and slammed the door. “Z.” Instantly Ryan was at her side. “That computer guy on the Internet?” He tried unsuccessfully to cover his excitement.
“Beck, are you going to finally let me talk to this guy?”
“Come on,” she said, “we don’t want to miss him.”
**********
Julie couldn’t explain it, but somehow, some way, she was entering the crystal.
Everyone had left her hospital room. She was all by herself, and she was tired. Dead tired. But not tired enough to ignore the beautiful, clear stone she held in her hand. It was like a diamond, the way it sparkled and refracted the light. Julie’s forehead creased in concentration. What had the Ascension Lady said?
Her powers had been awakened, and she could use the crystal to summon her angel?
Normally, Julie wouldn’t pay that much attention to the woman, but she kept thinking about her grandfather’s words:
“You’re not ready … There’s something you must do first. A decision you must make.” Maybe this whole thing was a part of that decision?
Then there was the fact that Priscilla had used concepts and phrases identical to the note Krissi had written for Becka.
Strange. Very strange …
With that in mind, Julie had begun staring into the rock, looking deeper and deeper into its colors and its light. “Feel its power,” Priscilla had said. “Push aside your own thoughts and merge with its energy.”
At first nothing happened. Julie felt no power, no energy. But as she let her eyes blur, as she relaxed and let her mind empty, a strange sensation started to overtake her. She began forgetting about the hospital — the beige walls, the forest green drapes, the steady roar of the air conditioner, even the bed with its too-firm mattress and too-coarse sheets — everything began to just melt away as though they were no longer there. As though she were no longer there.
And for good reason. She wasn’t. She had entered the crystal.
She marveled at the incredible colors — their delicate patterns and diversity amazed her. And with the colors came the light. Brighter and brighter it grew, washing out the other colors, overcoming them with its brilliance until there was nothing but the light.
Julie felt excitement surge through her, but as it did so, the light suddenly dimmed and faded. Forcing herself to stay calm, she shoved her excitement aside and again allowed her thoughts to drift. As she emptied her mind, the light returned.
Apparently, it would remain only if she kept her mind free and open.
The light began to condense, slowly taking on a human shape. Immediately Julie knew it was an angel, but it wasn’t the one she’d seen before. This one was different somehow … Julie wasn’t quite sure how, she just knew it was.
Then one difference became clear. Very clear.
This angel spoke. It was as though a thought was forming in her mind, but it definitely was not her thought.
I am an emissary sent from the Most High.
Julie’s heart pounded. She was right! There was no doubt-ing who the Most High was, so this must have been what her grandmother was talking about! But as the excitement came, the light faded. Quickly she pushed her emotions aside, trying to stay calm, trying to stay empty.
More thoughts came.
I have been sent as your new guardian. You are most favored. You have been chosen.
For what? Julie thought back. Chosen for what?
There was a pause, then the reply.
You will undergo a spiritual awakening. You have been chosen to enlighten others, to raise them to a higher level of consciousness.
Julie started to tremble. All her life she had felt called to do something, to be a somebody. Of course, she had never told anybody that, but the feelings had always been there, pushed deep down inside.
Again, the light began to waver and fade.
Where are you going? Julie asked, startled.
You are too full of self. The being continued to fade. You must evolve past your own identity, past the physical.
Please, don’t go. Please …
The light continued fading. The thoughts grew fainter. There is too much of you …
No, please tell me what to do, I’ll do it, just tell me.
The light was almost gone. Only a final thought remained behind: You must empty yourself. If you are to serve, you must be drained of self and filled with light.
But —
Suddenly Julie was back in bed. There was no more light, no more voice, just the hard mattress and coarse sheets — and Julie’s heartsick emotions. She had failed. She had been called.
Called to something great.
But she had failed.
Julie reached over and set the crystal on the nightstand. She was too tired to try again, but she hoped for another chance. In a few hours she would be rested enough to reenter the crystal. She would work for as long as it took to go deeper into the mysteries of her guardian, to understand the great designs he h
ad for her.
Even if it took all night. Or the next day. It didn’t matter how much time it took.
She was not going to disappoint him again.
**********
Becka slid into her brother’s desk chair and fired up the computer. The blue glow of the screen lit both her face and Ryan’s.
“BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY, BEAM ME UP.” Cornelius, Scott’s pet parrot, paced back and forth on his nearby perch. He had been with the family for as long as Rebecca and Scott could remember.
“MAKE MY DAY. MAKE MY DAY. SQUAWK! MAKE MY
DAY.”
Becka winced. When she and Scott had first taught the bird those phrases, they were cool and everybody quoted them.
Unfortunately, when the sayings went out of style, they neglected to go out of Cornelius’s vocabulary.
“BEAM ME UP! BEAM ME UP!”
Becka turned back to the screen as the connection was made with the chat room. Z was Scott’s mysterious friend, the one who had taken an interest in Becka and her brother from the start. No one knew who he was or where he came from, but he was a definite expert on the supernatural.
Becka pulled down the appropriate menu and clicked the mouse.
“You say he usually comes online around nine?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah, or we can just leave each other messages.” Ryan nodded.
“Here we go,” Becka said as she entered her brother’s pass-word: “Dirty Socks.”
Now they were online. She typed:
Z? Are you there? It’s me, Rebecca.
They waited. Even though Becka and Scott had talked to Z
half a dozen times, it always frightened her a little. Not because Z knew so much about the occult, but because he knew so much about them … personal things, things that nobody should know
… things nobody outside of the family could know.
Finally, the words formed on the screen: Good evening, Rebecca.