I laugh a bit, amused by Elisha’s attempt at a serious conversation about her parents. “Love you, Lisha. Hey, I’ll be in tomorrow at noon after class, all right?”
“Sounds good. Go home and sleep!” Elisha smiles, turns, and starts walking in the opposite direction.
I yell after her with sheer sarcasm. “Yes, ma’am.”
I turn to head in the opposite direction. I begin humming a Christmas jingle as I walk briskly to beat the chilled air.
As I walk, I recollect something my mom and dad always told me when I was in a rut. Sometimes life gets set off balance. Sometimes it’s a good thing, and sometimes, not so good. Remember to keep your guard up and push through the rut. Never back down or away from seeking and surfacing the meaning, the purpose of the imbalance. It is the seeking and surfacing that will help you transcend it.
I’m distracted by the humming and vibrating sensation that shoots through my body. It feels like an electric surge from my toes, up my spine, and into my head. I hear someone walking a few steps behind me. I turn just enough to see peripherally. Nothing is there. I walk more quickly. The whispering comes again, quick and raspy.
It is impossible to decipher the words. Waves of people are passing me on either side, walking in the opposite direction.
Could I be catching pieces of their thoughts, internal conversations?
A woman passes to my right. “Soymilk, Tums, and meat tenderizer.”
Then, a man passes to my left. “Tommy needs to finish his project by Saturday.”
A young couple is ahead of me with their heads down, walking toward me.
“Why is she being so unreasonable?”
“I don’t know why he is being so quiet. What did I do?”
I feel like I am under attack. I need to get inside, away from the voices. I look for a shop that is still open. Small-town shops close pretty early around here. I hear the raspy voice again, very deep and very close.
“Jesca.”
I see a light two doors up on the left and rush for it, Margot’s Deli. A cowbell rings me in at the entrance.
It is very quiet, except for the music, The Doors “People are Strange” playing in the background.
I walk quickly to a booth and sit on the side facing the front door. I eye the door as I tap my finger on the countertop. An older waitress named “Sally” brings me a menu and a glass of water. We exchange smiles, and she leaves me to browse the menu.
The cowbell sounds. My eyes dart over to see Mr. Kahn taking his jacket off. He hasn’t seen me yet.
He looks back toward the kitchen. “Hey there, Stan. Slow tonight?”
Stan must be the cook I see through the serving window over the bar. Stan comments on the dining traffic, but I am still looking beyond Mr. Kahn. I am looking for a sinister person to pass on the sidewalk, when Mr. Kahn steps in front of me. “Jesca. What brings you here? This is my hotspot in town.”
I am caught off guard by his presence. “Uh, hi there, Mr. Kahn.”
I start fidgeting with the peeling corner of the menu.
Kahn smiles, and it immediately takes the edge off of my anxiety.
“Ezra, please. We’re not on campus. And even if we were, I would feel more like myself if you called me Ezra.” Ezra must have picked up on my awkward feelings about this and quickly adds, “Most of my students call me Ezra.”
I blink, realizing I hadn’t answered his original question.
“I was walking from the bookstore where I work and got, um, got hungry.”
Ezra shifts his satchel to his other arm. “This is a great deli. They have the best Ruben sandwich in town. And their peach cobbler is amazing. Are you meeting someone? You keep looking at the door.”
“What? Oh. No, just me.”
Ezra hesitates a bit, and then asks, “Can I join you? I mean, unless you would like to be alone.”
I feel kind of bad for him. He looks eager for company. And his being close to me at this moment in time is kind of comforting.
“No. I mean, no, I don’t want to sit alone. Please join me. The company would be really nice.” I crack a smile again to make him feel welcome. I eye the menu absently, still on edge from the earlier event.
Ezra looks at me with concern. “Everything all right?”
I’m pretending to focus on the menu. “Yep. Just fine.”
Ezra returns to the menu, but I can sense his concern.
Sally, the waitress, comes back around to our table. “Are you two ready to order?”
All of a sudden, she sighs upon seeing Ezra. “Ezra! I didn’t recognize you, my boy. I guess it’s because you are always sitting alone.” Sally winks at Ezra and pats his shoulder with her hot pink fingernails.
Sally looks over at me accusingly. “Oh. Is this one of your students?”
I’m mortified. I know what she is thinking.
I hope she is one of his students, little vixen. She can’t be much older than twenty-one. She’s gorgeous. Oh, Ezra. And here I thought you to be an honorable man. This young spring chicken is…
Ezra starts in immediately. “Now, Sally, this is Jesca. She is one of my students from the university. She seemed lonely over here, and I thought I would accompany her, being she is new to your deli. Plus, the only gal I sit with at this deli is you.”
With that comment, Ezra winks at me.
Did he hear her, too?
Sally giggles and puts her hand on Ezra’s shoulder again affectionately.
She is awfully touchy.
Ezra shoots me a look just as my thought sprung from my mind. I shrink back in my seat.
“Oh, Ezra Kahn. You are young enough to be my son. You are such a charmer!”
Sally looks over at me with soft eyes this time. I meet her eyes with mine. “Well, sweetheart, what would you like to eat?”
I look over at Ezra then back at Sally. “The Ruben and peach cobbler, please.”
Sally turns to Ezra.
“Good selection. I’ll have the same, Sally.”
Sally takes the menus. “Coming right up, chickadees.” Sally gives me a wink and a smile.
Ezra starts, “Sorry about that. It was mortifying for me as well.”
I laugh it off, but wonder what a coincidence it is that his emotions are the same as mine.
“Jesca, you seem really tense. Is everything okay? Is the semester going all right?”
“The semester is fine. I just have…I have been…” I shake my head.
I can’t lie to him. He is not interested in my drama.
I lean forward and lower my voice. “No. I am tired and nervous and fidgety and anxious, and it is pissing me off. I have been having these thoughts, dreams, whatever, about this dark thing, and now I’m feeling it, seeing it, sensing it, hearing it in real life, I think. Oh, and the fact that I’m seeing all of the unsavory behaviors of the public around me magnified. And I feel like I’m going nuts! I’m not sleeping. I’m hallucinating and seeing people’s faces contorting to faces of monsters. And…before I saw you at the lake, I was hauling ass with crazy, ultraspeed through the woods trying to escape this, this thing!”
I stop and look up to halt the tears from falling down my cheeks. I take a deep breath to clear the lump that has developed in my throat. I close my eyes for a second and breathe. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just unloaded all that shi…stuff on you. You don’t need to hear all of that. I just…never mind.”
Ezra looks at me with sympathy.
All of a sudden, I see a change in his facial expression. It turns from sympathy to something neutral and emotionless. “Is there anything I can do?”
Noticing the shift and a bit taken aback by it, I scoff. “I doubt it. Can we pretend like I didn’t just unload the last week of my life on you and start over with something more academic?”
I know that will be a safe topic, void of emotion.
Ezra smiles with understanding. “Sure.”
I shift my mood for Ezra’s sake.
“Okay, so te
ll me what your latest graduate lectures have surfaced from the theories of the universe, time, space, etc.”
Ezra’s eyes light up. “Well, let’s see. Have you heard of the Einstein-Rosen bridge theory?”
I look at him with a vague nod. I remember catching something on The Learning Channel about it once.
“Well, in short, this theory deals with quantum physics. The potential of negative mass being harnessed and used to fold space and allow a wormhole to open to other worlds. Worlds already in existence and worlds not yet discovered.”
My face must have “skeptic” and “confused” written all over it, since Ezra gets out a pen and grabs a napkin.
“Imagine this napkin here has a point A and point B. A is one edge of the napkin representing world A. B is the other edge of the napkin, representing world B. If I fold this napkin in half, fold time and space with negative energy and mass, this will create a dense weight on world A. The weight will be so strong that it will pierce the fold to the other side of the napkin, hence connecting world A to world B. That is what will bridge the distance between the two worlds. It’s called a traverse wormhole.”
I am curious. “But isn’t it impossible to find negative mass anywhere on the Earth. Even engineering it has posed barriers. How can you say that a hole could be created big enough to teleport a human, let alone an atom. Teleporting from world A to world B quickly, safely, and smoothly. How can that be?”
“That is where Einstein and Rosen left off, and years later, physicists expanded the theory into numerous ideas and possibilities to achieve negative mass.”
I am eager to hear. “What are they?”
“Well, that is a conversation we can have another time.” He ruffles his unruly hair and blows out his lower lip.
Moments later, Sally returns with our Ruben sandwiches and dishes of cobbler. I frown a bit, feeling cheated out of an intriguing conversation. I always loved it when Dad and Mom talked about theories. This conversation with Ezra brought back good memories.
Ezra smiles and takes a huge bite of his sandwich. He says through the bite of food in his mouth, “Your food is getting cold. Eat up.”
Ezra is right; the Ruben is fantastic. The cobbler doesn’t disappoint either. We eat in silence, enjoying our meal thoroughly.
My cell phone vibrates on the table. It is Mom texting to make sure I call when I get home.
Ezra eyes my phone curiously.
I respond, “It’s just Mom checking on me. They have been worried about my stress, lack of sleep, and the invisible me over the past few weeks.”
Ezra looks at me with sympathy again. “I can completely understand their concern. I mean, life can get pretty intense. Your parents want to be there for you, just in case you…if you need guidance. That is their purpose.” He drops his gaze to his plate.
“Yeah, I know. With this, I just think…I think what I’m dealing with is beyond what they can handle. Even though talking to them relieves the stress for a short time, I keep falling back into this, this rut. It’s like the twilight zone lately with these intense experiences. My dream state is bleeding into my reality.” I blow out my lower lip and snicker. “Just lock me up and throw away the key.” I scoop up the last bit of vanilla ice cream and peach chunks on my plate.
Ezra brushes his hand through his dark hair and sits back. “Jes, you aren’t experiencing anything that I would consider you needing to be institutionalized. You need to practice some relaxation techniques, imagery, to help you. And you need to buy some chamomile tea and drink it before bed to relieve tension.”
Did he just call me Jes?
I shift in my seat a bit. “So what is this camel tea that can help me sleep? Where do I get it? It sounds exotic.”
Ezra laughs. “It is chamomile tea not camel tea, Jesca. And you buy it at the market in the tea and coffee section. Now, on to imagery for relaxation. Have you ever tried it?”
I think back because that word “imagery” sounds so familiar. “Yes, my parents showed me how to use it to calm my nerves before bed. I was very anxious the nights following nightmares, so we would practice together. You know, I haven’t even considered it. Thanks, Ezra.”
My phone vibrates again. It is Mom texting me.
Mom: We will be waiting up for your call, honey.
Translation, we will wait up all night and make you feel guilty if you don’t call. So call us now!
I look up at Ezra. “Thank you so much for the company. I’m glad we ran into each other. Believe it or not, you made me feel much better about the things that have been going on in my life lately.”
Ezra sighs. “Well, I’m glad I could help. Wish I could do more. And dinner is on me, so get out of here and call your parents already. This is the second text in under thirty minutes. They will not give up, believe me.” Ezra smiles.
I reach into my pocket to find my spare cash. “At least let me leave the tip. I don’t want to feel like I didn’t contribute.”
Before I can get my money out, Ezra puts his hand up. “Nonsense. My treat. Be safe on your walk home. I will see you around campus, all right?”
I sit back, thinking on that for a second. “Yes, I’m sure you will. Seems like I’ve gotten to see you more regularly lately.”
Ezra gives me a look of awkwardness.
I quickly correct myself. “I mean it’s not a bad thing. I really like your company.”
God, I hope that didn’t sound weird to him.
I genuinely feel comfortable in his presence, like you would with a dad or uncle.
Yep, that sounded weird.
I mean, he’s practically a stranger. I only know him through classes at the university. It isn’t like we’ve known each other forever.
Ezra’s awkwardness clears, and his face lights up. “Not at all, Jesca. I feel the same way. It is nice to talk with you and listen to your dilemmas, no matter how mundane you may think they are. Life will definitely not get easier. But you will get better at it. Does that make sense?” He looks at me with hope in his eyes. A desperate type of hope for me to really understand what he is saying.
I really didn’t. I hated to burst his bubble, though. “It makes sense. I hope I get better at life sooner than later. This part of my life is kind of sucking.”
Ezra says, “It will, Jesca, sooner than you may realize.”
We say our brief goodbyes, and I grab my bag and head out the door, walking quickly toward the market.
Chamomile tea.
I never knew the market had a whole section on teas for relaxing. I get the tea and head home. The walk home is quiet. Not many people wandering the streets at this hour. I decide to call Mom and Dad to keep me company while I walk.
“Hi, Mom. Yes. I’m fine. Just had to head to the market for some chamomile tea. Okay. I will add a touch of milk.”
Gross.
“All right. Hey, is Dad around?”
Dad gets on the other line. “Remember the imagery we used to practice with you? I hope you have been using it. First breathe deeply in. Then out. In. Then out. Now, close your eyes and imagine your favorite peaceful place.”
I interrupt, “I remember the rest, Dad, thanks. Uh, I’ve got to go. I just made it home. I’m going to try and get some rest.”
Before hanging up, they both ask me to promise to call if things don’t get better. I halfheartedly promise.
I sit in bed with my cup of tea in hand. Sipping and flipping through a magazine. I close the magazine and sit the almost empty cup of tea down.
Okay. My favorite place. The ocean. The sand is warm from the afternoon sun.
I continue to set the scene in my mind as I close my eyes. The sea breeze is blowing steadily, as I sit on the beach, facing the hypnotic waves. I begin synchronizing my breath with the consistent ebb and flow of the waves.
“Breathe in. Breathe out.”
I become limp. Each muscle from the tip of my big toe to the tips of my ears feels numb. I slip into sleep, and I’m at peace for now.
Chapter 4
I’m running in the woods. I hear the low, dull humming vibration coming from all around me. I’m not sure if it is coming from inside of me or outside of me.
“Jesca. You are safe. I am with you.”
The voice is so familiar, but I just can’t pinpoint it. I don’t feel vulnerable, though. I feel the breath of this guiding voice on my shoulder; I turn to find nothing but wooded terrain. I do not feel the sinister darkness that I have felt in the other nightmares and visions. All I feel is warmth, a shielding embrace. I’m running faster, out of the woods into the clearing near the lake. Just a few strides and I flash to treading on familiar concrete heading back to Mom and Dad’s old house. The mist is seeping in on the streetlights.
I’m back in the nightmare.
The warm voice comes again. “You are ready to learn the truth.”
Flashes of the nightmare come crashing into my mind. For a moment, my anxiety rises. Then I remember the voice and feel its presence. Calm and relief wash over me. My pace slows as I come to the front of my house. I hear the yelling from Dad and screaming from Mom.
The voice interrupts my brief anxiety spike.
“They are fine, Jes. You have done this many times. See the truth. This time look into the darkness. Face it, and fight it.”
My heart is pounding frantically. I want to run for the door, but I hesitate.
The voice comes again. “Jesca. You are in control. This time see what you fear. See why this vision is tormenting you. Nothing can hurt you or your parents right now. Your physical body is at home in bed; you are sleeping.”
My breath becomes more even as the voice of reason soothes me.
My hand reaches for the doorknob. In the blink of an eye, I’m in the entryway with the door shut behind me.
This speed thing is pretty convenient.
I start to sense the heavy, musky dark crawling around me on the wooden floors. I feel it creeping onto the walls. The darkness begins the pulling from within me. It is like a magnetic feeling drawing me toward it. I pull back against it slightly.
Piercing The Fold Page 3