But it could never matter now, she knew. How could it ever matter?
Within seconds, his car blasted by. He hadn’t seen her, Rose felt sure—he couldn’t have. Rose told herself to remain where she was. She told herself it was already over, that life no longer mattered. But her body sprang into action for some reason she couldn’t understand. She scrambled to her car and jolted the engine to life. Gravel sprayed as she took to the road again, even as she asked herself what she wanted, what she could possibly hope for. Was it confrontation? Was it sympathy? Did she want to see him cry and beg forgiveness? She didn’t know and there wasn’t time to think as she sped after him.
Rose rounded a corner, clearing the trees. She raced after him, imagining his face stretched with pain as he cried, hunched over the steering wheel, desperately thinking he’d soon catch up to her. She stomped her foot to the gas pedal and pulled up alongside his car. She turned her head and saw the truth.
Joseph drove relaxed in his seat, one arm outstretched to the steering wheel. Beside him, Linda rested her head against the seatback, eyes closed and grinning as the wind blew through her hair and sun shined on her face. Music blared from open windows.
Rose’s throat seized and the world before her became a tunnel. She gasped for breath, tears streaming from her eyes, her heart pounding. She locked her brakes and cut the wheel.
Joseph’s eyes met hers for just a moment before metal hit metal with a sickening blow. Glass shattered and sprayed. The air filled with the smell of burning rubber. Linda craned to see what was happening as Joseph’s car veered off the road.
Rose’s car spun and stalled at the side of the road. She sat twisted in her seat, thrown against the door, unable to stop watching as the other car broke through the cliff’s guard rail and sailed into the sky.
2
The Veil
Henry glanced over at Nikki as they followed Martha into Halfway House, shooting her a questioning look. Nikki’s shrug and arched eyebrows returned his question. Lysrus wanted to talk to them? The Mentors wanted them to do something? Their world had just shifted, definitely. They both understood that much, but that much only. The rest would have to wait until they came face to face with Lysrus.
As they climbed the stairs, Henry thought back to the moment when he’d caught sight of Lysrus, who’d appeared next to Martha after they’d returned from the physical realm. It had only been for a second or two, but Henry thought he saw a tall, thin figure draped in a white robe. He saw platinum hair and golden eyes. He’d felt almost sure he’d seen wings. But Lysrus had vanished again almost instantly. It had all happened so fast that Henry might have thought he’d imagined it but he hadn’t been able to forget seeing Lysrus’s eyes and how different they’d seemed. The word “alien” had kept coming to mind, although Henry knew the word would have a different meaning in this realm. By “alien,” he didn’t mean someone from another planet. He meant alien in the sense of not human. At least, not human in any way he’d experienced before.
Martha stopped at her door and turned to them, her hand resting on the knob. She offered a smile but her eyes remained serious. “Things are about to change,” she said. “What I mean is, you might find this experience a little disorienting.” She looked back and forth between Henry and Nikki. “Ready?”
Again, Henry and Nikki exchanged glances. Henry brought his attention back to Martha. “I guess?”
Nikki snorted a laugh and Henry couldn’t help crack a smile. Obviously, he didn’t sound at all sure.
“What about you, Nikki?” Martha said.
Nikki’s face reddened a little. “Sure. I think so.”
“Fair enough.” Martha opened her door and Henry winced against the light suddenly filling the hall, nearly blinding him. She turned their way again. “As I said, things are about to change.”
Martha stepped through the doorway and disappeared into the light. Henry and Nikki hesitated, their eyes meeting.
“Do you have a feeling about this?” Nikki said.
“Yeah. I get the feeling this is going to be weird.”
A moment later they stood in a space without any evident boundaries. No floor, no ceiling, no walls. As his eyes adjusted, Henry realized the light surrounding them wasn’t just white. Behind the glare, he saw a pulsing spectrum, ranging from light blue to green, then yellow, orange and red. At the same time, it was like his brain couldn’t process it and, instead, registered the total effect as being a field of uniform brightness.
“It takes some adjustment,” Martha said. “Don’t worry.”
Henry appreciated her reassurance but he didn’t feel worried. In fact, just the opposite. For some reason he couldn’t understand, he felt almost euphoric. He looked up, then down, but neither seemed to matter since the view was exactly the same, as if he stood suspended weightless in the air. Again, he recalled the brief encounter with Lysrus, that moment when he’d at first barely been able to keep looking, his skin tingling, his ears ringing and his hair lifting as if by electricity. He remembered being surprised by the calm feeling that had followed the initial shock. He felt the same sense now.
A moment later, the light parted—a flash of even brighter light behind it—as if a curtain briefly opened and then closed. A figure strode forward and within seconds stood before them. Henry looked into Lysrus’s eyes again and those golden eyes gazed back at him. There hadn’t been time to notice before but now Henry realized they lacked both irises and pupils. Lysrus kept shimmering, flickering like the light around them or maybe causing the light around them. Henry stared at Lysrus’s face but it kept shifting too, flickering like a strobe light, showing faces of different genders, ages and ethnicities. The effect was hypnotizing and on one level Henry suspected it could have been frightening. He didn’t doubt that if he’d encountered a sight like this when he’d been living in the physical realm, he would have been terrified. Now, though, he remained fascinated as he remembered what Martha had told them before—that Mentors manifest all past lives simultaneously.
After a few moments, the strobe effect slowed, then settled to a stop as Lysrus’s form took on the appearance of a tall, thin man with shoulder-length platinum hair. His eyes shifted to pale blue. The light around them stopped pulsing too, becoming consistent, a soft and steady white.
“I sense that you both perceive me as being male,” Lysrus said. “It’s true that I have been many times.”
Right there, Henry wanted to start asking questions but decided he should probably wait.
“I suspect it’s also better that I don’t appear to you displaying the wings you imagined upon our first encounter,” Lysrus said. “While it’s common for us to be perceived that way, that expression of energy won’t serve any purpose here.” He gestured to what he wore, the same white robes Henry had briefly caught sight of the first time. “I also sense that you perceived me wearing robes. In truth, my current manifestation requires no fixed physical form. All the same, I’ll appear to you dressed this way.”
Lysrus took another step closer and appraised both Henry and Nikki before briefly bowing his head and closing his eyes. The gesture, which stuck Henry as both humble and respectful, surprised him a little. Henry wasn’t quite sure what Lysrus was, but clearly he’d developed light years past himself and Nikki on the evolutionary chain—if they even shared the same evolutionary chain.
Lysrus smiled. His smile also surprised Henry with its warmth. He seemed so powerful, even magical, but at the same time gave the impression of being completely approachable. “If you now find my appearance less unsettling, I’ll manifest for you both this way from now on. Do you think this will work?”
Henry and Nikki both reacted identically, remaining momentarily dumbstruck before realizing they’d been asked a direct question. They both nodded simultaneously.
Lysrus glanced back and forth between them, then smiled again, more broadly this time as if restraining himself from laughing. “The fact is, if you were to enter my actual realm, you’d f
ind it entirely overwhelming. You simply wouldn’t be able to process what you were experiencing.” Then, as if he’d read Henry’s mind from before, he added, “However, this place where we can meet”—Lysrus gestured to indicate their surroundings—“causes a certain feeling of euphoria for those visiting from your realm. It took Martha a bit of time to adjust too. Wouldn’t you say, Martha?”
Henry had been so entirely focused on Lysrus that he’d almost forgotten Martha being there. Now, he turned to see that, like Lysrus, she too seemed slightly amused.
“At first Lysrus kept asking me why I was smiling,” Martha said. “He took his time explaining to me what he just explained to you.”
Lysrus chuckled. “I enjoyed that, I have to admit.”
“I’ll get you back some time,” Martha said.
Lysrus shook his head. “The event you imagine does not occur.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “You might be bluffing about my future.”
Lysrus shrugged. “That’s possible.”
Martha brought her attention back to Henry and Nikki. “I explained a little before but, to help you understand further, the Mentors have not existed in the physical realm for a very long time. Nor will they again. Still, they remain very much involved on behalf of those who pass in and out of that realm.”
“Are you an angel?” Nikki said.
For just a moment, Lysrus seemed to hesitate. “That word has certainly been used to describe us. However, it depends on the perspectives involved. There’s a reason why we limit our interactions with those still embedded in physical lives. In that realm, we create a dissonance that’s overwhelming and sometimes quite frightening. Not all who see us perceive us positively.”
“I realize it can be confusing,” Martha said. “Right now, what’s important to remember is that one of the things the Mentors do is watch for those who can’t find a way to successfully cross over.”
“Which is why I asked Martha to introduce us,” Lysrus said. “When someone doesn’t complete their Transition, quite often it’s due to fear. Typically, we ask someone dear to them—most often a loved one that has already crossed over—to help them realize there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’ve heard of that happening,” Nikki said. “People seeing others they knew reaching out to them. That didn’t happen for me.”
Lysrus nodded, watching her. “Some are more fearful then others. On the other hand, there’s guilt. Guilt is the most powerful obstacle of all. Through guilt, a person can become trapped in a delusion so compelling that they may never escape. Which brings me to my point. I’d like you to assist such a person, if possible.”
“Assist?” Henry said. “Wouldn’t that be more like what Martha does? I mean, in Service?”
“Indeed. Martha has kept me informed regarding your progress here. In particular, she’s described how you’ve dedicated yourselves to helping others despite great obstacles and a very limited likelihood of success.”
“But it wasn’t just us,” Nikki said. “Our whole group tried to help.”
“And it wasn’t people who were trapped,” Henry said. “Not people who’d crossed over or anything like that.”
“Both points are true. Based on what I’ve observed, however, my feeling is that the two of you are best suited for my request.”
Lysrus swept his hand through the air and the light behind him parted like a curtain again, this time revealing a scene. Henry saw a woman sitting in a white convertible, its front end crumpled. Steam swirled into the air from beneath the damaged hood. After a few moments, the woman got out of the car. No, not a woman, a girl, he realized. She looked to be maybe seventeen or eighteen. She had brown hair that fell to her shoulders in wavy curls. Whoever she was, she held her hands to her face as she stumbled forward, crying, stopping once to bend at the waist as she gasped for breath.
What they stood watching didn’t seem like an image. To Henry, it felt like an actual event taking place as the girl crossed the road, not once looking to see if any cars approached. She moved quickly now, still keeping her hands to her face. She ran through a gap in the guardrail, its steel twisted back where it had snapped, the missing piece nowhere to be seen. She approached the edge of a cliff, apparently unconcerned at the height, stopping only when she reached the very edge. She looked down, to where a car had plunged through the air and now sat wedged between boulders, trunk skyward, its hood and roof crushed.
The girl gasped and Henry saw it too—the blood-soaked, shattered windows of the car, the slumped forms of what could only be human bodies. Get away from the edge, Henry thought. Please, whoever you are, get away from the edge! Instead, the girl bent at the waist again, doubled over this time. She let out an ear-piercing wail of horror. Only a few seconds passed before she let herself drop toward the rocks below. Henry’s wanted to look away but remained transfixed as she plummeted through the air. The scene shifted, Henry’s heart still hammering at what he’d just witnessed. Now, they looked into the interior of a house at night. Even in the darkness, Henry could tell it was a large house. Arched windows stretched to high ceilings and moonlight spilled upon marble floors. At the top of a winding staircase, a figure emerged into the moonlight. It was the same girl, Henry realized. She descended the steps slowly, her shoes clacking in the night. Her hands remained pressed to her face, her head lowered as her grieving continued. She reached the landing, where she dropped to her knees.
Suddenly, three dark figures materialized next to her, faceless shadows taking human form. They murmured softly, speaking in turn.
“You killed us.”
“How could you, Rose? How could you have killed us?”
“You’re a murderer, Rose. You know where murderers go.”
The girl lowered her hands to her sides and raised her face to the ceiling. She cried out, her mournful keening a howl in the darkness.
Upstairs, a sliver of light showed as a bedroom door opened. Children ran down the hall, crying out for their parents.
The scene shifted again. Sunlight streamed through windows as the girl walked down the same hall into a large, gleaming kitchen. Finally, Henry saw her clearly. Sparkling brown eyes and a smattering of freckles. Curly auburn hair framing her thin face. She opened the French doors and looked outside to where an elderly woman sat reading a newspaper. It seemed nearly inconceivable but the girl smiled and said, “Good morning, Grandmother! Has Joseph called yet?”
Lysrus swept his hand through the air again. The scene faded, the curtain of light closing. In their confusion, both Henry and Nikki looked to Martha. She appeared to have anticipated their reaction.
“Her name was Rose Boland,” Martha said. “She was eighteen when her life ended. She was the only heir in a wealthy family and she’d just inherited a great deal of money. Rose was to be married to a young man named Joseph just days following what you first witnessed when Lysrus opened the Veil.”
“You mean…when she fell off the cliff,” Nikki said, her eyes glistening. “That’s terrible!”
“She didn’t fall off,” Lysrus said. “It’s important to remember that.”
“I’m sorry but it gets worse,” Martha said. “Unfortunately, the feelings Rose felt for Joseph weren’t mutual. In fact, Joseph had a dark agenda, his intention being staying married just long enough to insure that her fortune became his.”
Nikki kept her gaze fixed on Martha. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Unfortunately, that was the truth of the situation.”
“Wait,” Henry said. “Do you mean he planned to murder her?”
Martha hesitated, closing her eyes briefly. “He envisioned someone else doing it, but yes. That was his plan. After which, he intended to marry Linda, Rose’s best friend.”
Nikki shuddered. “That’s just sick.”
“I agree, it represents the very worst of human nature. The car accident you saw occurred on the day Rose found out about their affair. In fact, that was the same morning Josep
h told Linda about his plan. That conversation took place just minutes before Rose discovered them together.”
Henry turned to Lysrus. “I don’t understand what we just saw. The first scene was the end of Rose’s life, obviously. But what were the scenes that followed? What was going on?”
“The first scene is from the past,” Lysrus said. “The other two are from the present. In fact, both just took place simultaneously.”
Henry frowned, confused. “Do you mean one followed the other?”
“No, I meant what I said. One was from the physical realm, the reality of Rose’s situation. The other was from the delusion Rose has wrapped around herself, created from guilt. The fact is, Rose was brought up to believe that her actions would result in her spending eternity in hell. In her mind, she’s a murderer who committed suicide.”
“Rose’s spirit is torn,” Martha said. “She thinks she inhabits the dream world she’s created, the one in which the things she desperately wanted remain perpetually playing out. In actuality, she continues to haunt the house where she grew up decades ago.”
Martha’s words made Henry recall the car Rose had been driving. There hadn’t been time to give it much thought but he’d imagined it to be someone’s vintage car. “When did all of this happen?”
“May, 1964,” Martha said.
Henry had grown used to the vast differences between how time worked for them compared to those in the other realm. On one level, he knew that he’d died over twenty years ago. At the same time, it had felt like months passing while he’d remained a teenager. But he still felt a jolt of shock. “She’s been trapped for over seventy years?”
“Yes,” Martha said.
“Hasn’t anyone tried to help her before?”
Lysrus nodded, his gaze serious. “Others have tried. They weren’t successful in shattering Rose’s dream world. And that’s what has to happen for her to Transition to this realm.”
“Why do you think we might be able to help her?” Henry said. “Why not send Martha or someone like her?”
Stepping into the Sky: Jump When Ready, Book 3 Page 2