I couldn’t stop thinking of your eyes; so I did a little shopping. I hope you don’t mind.
Dane.
“Oh!” Nancy exclaimed, “The dear boy!”
Valerie contorted her face and Russell laughed.
“I have feeling that this won’t be the last present you’ll get from him. He seems like the determined type to me,” Russell stated, then walked to his easy chair and settled there for the evening.
Russell was right of course, Valerie got a new package every day that week and the next. They even started a little game, where all three would try to guess what would be inside this time. Valerie found herself rushing home from school every day, just to see what she would get next.
Nancy was disappointed when the mailman left that Friday, without leaving them a package. She feared this kid had finally given up on Valerie, who had not written back at all, not even to thank him for three weeks worth of gifts.
She couldn’t tell why she was so upset over the loss of this boyfriend. Valerie was an attractive girl, but guys her age were put off by her stern demeanor. This kid however, had been able to see past that, and see past the scar and see past the last three weeks of indifference—maybe. But it was more than that… there was that picture of him. That was the real problem. Valerie had seen him in a dream, she felt compelled to draw him, and here he was in the flesh, suddenly materialized. It had to mean something. So the lack of package today was a very sad thing indeed.
Valerie felt disappointed too, when she saw that the packages had stopped.
“Well…he got the point,” she said, and stormed off to her room. She went straight for the profile of Dane, she studied it and tried to reach with her mind for those mysterious thoughts she had sometimes. Those whisper like thoughts of…another world, another time or realm. She searched for that feeling that she had a few weeks back, the sudden validation that the dream had been real, and that an Angel was watching over her and wanted her to meet Dane! As strange as that sounded—even to her.
That dream was definitely real, she assured herself. It changed my life…and got better because of it. This picture is proof that the dream was real. Dane is proof that the dream was real! And the feeling I had a few weeks back…that had been real too!” Valerie mused.
Her eyes filled with tears and they spilled over freely. Then she remembered something she had forgotten. She stood up, and grabbed all her painting gear. She changed into her scrubby paint-stained t-shirt and jeans, and headed for her favorite art studio—the garden.
A few hours later, when Nancy opened the front door, she found herself looking at Dane. She was struck once more at how this lanky, tall blond looked more like a Californian Surfer, than an east coast, upper crust, Harvard graduate. But it was the seventies…
“Hi, Dane!” she said cheerfully.
From the back of the house you could hear a newspaper being put down and some heavy steps coming toward the front door.
“Hello, Mrs. Wilson,” Dane said with a quick nod of the head, then greeted Russell more formally by calling him by his military title of “Admiral.”
“Hello,” Russell said gruffly as he stretched his large hand to Dane, and shook it once with strength. Then he chuckled and invited him in.
“So, you’ve been busy, I take it, sending all those presents?” Russell asked as he motioned for Dane to sit on the sofa opposite of his easy chair.
“Yes, sir,” Dane admitted, turning red.
Nancy couldn’t help notice that in his hands, Dane held a small turquoise box—Valerie’s next present, hand delivered by him. She also knew what that turquoise box meant, and hoped the kid hadn’t overdone it. Too much too soon would be disastrous, and she wanted this to work out.
“Is…Valerie home?” Dane stammered.
“She’s in the garden, painting,” Russell said with amusement in his voice.
Dane rose up from the sofa. “Do you mind if I have a word with her?” he asked, his ears burning, they were so hot.
Russell got up, too, and came to Dane’s side. “Son,” he said as he grabbed Dane’s elbow, “my daughter is strong, but she bruises easy.” Russell’s eyes were intent on Dane’s.
“I understand, sir. I…” he could hardly explain the depth of his feelings for Valerie to himself, much less to the Admiral.
“It’s okay, honey, you just go talk to her,” Nancy said with her sweet southern drawl. She liked this guy and was going to do all in her power to help her daughter see reason.
* * * * *
Chapter 36
Dane opened the screen door and walked down the stone path that led into a pretty little garden packed full of flowers, shrubs, and various garden decorations. Valerie sat inside a little white cast iron gazebo that had a wisteria plant filled with cascading vine like flowers that dangled down from the top. He looked around, and thought this was a perfect little setup, the kind of home he always dreamed about having. Quaint, homey, inviting…not like his parents’ cold and ostentatious mansion, where you couldn’t sneeze without someone coming up behind you to clean.
Valerie was intent on her painting and didn’t turn, as she heard the footsteps coming toward her.
“You are back,” she said without stopping or turning.
Dane wasn’t sure if she knew it was him or if she was simply finishing a conversation she had earlier with her parents.
“I am,” he responded, hoping that the sound of his voice would solve that problem.
But she didn’t respond, or turn. She simply continued painting.
“I brought you your last gift. Well…it doesn’t need to be the last.”
“Why are you doing this?” She regretted letting those sour words out the moment she said them. Why do I have to be like this? she scolded herself.
“I’m not sure.” He lied, he knew exactly why, but didn’t find it prudent to tell her just now—not if she was going to turn him away.
“It was nice of you, really,” she said, hoping to smooth out her last comment. “All your gifts…they were all so…thoughtful.”
“What are you painting?” he asked, changing the subject.
Valerie thought about how to answer this question, and then decided that blunt honesty would be the best. No need to beat around the bush, or pretend to be normal. If he is this determined, he might as well know exactly what he’s getting into, she thought.
“When I was in the mental hospital, you know…after I tried to commit suicide,” she paused, letting all that sink in for a moment, “I had a dream, a very vivid dream unlike any other I have ever had.” She paused again. “In it I saw a guy…an Angel, about…I don’t know twenty-something. He said he was my Guardian Angel, and…” An unwilling tear fell from her cheek. She reached with her hand to wipe it away, but Dane had beaten her to it. She was startled by how quick he had been and how much closer to her he was than she had anticipated.
At her sudden movement, he withdrew his hand, but stayed sitting on the step of the gazebo, not moving away.
She was glad that he didn’t say “go on” as most psychiatrists do when they want their patients to keep unveiling their crazy thoughts before them.
“And that he wanted me to see something,” she continued. “When he said this, I was standing in the middle of a white space. It was him and I, then in the distance a door appeared. He told me to open it, so I did.” Another tear fell, this time Dane didn’t try to catch it. Valerie was sorry for this, and let it drop untouched.
“Inside I saw a room, filled with people. It was like a huge classroom, they were all sitting down facing forward. In the background I could hear the most beautiful sounds. They were human voices, it was a choir, but I couldn’t understand anything they were saying.
“When the music ended, I heard the voice of a man. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him. He must have been the teacher, because all the people in the room were attentively looking forward to where the voice came from. This is where the dream gets weird,” she said,
and faced him for the first time. The tears were streaming freely down her face now. Dane had a pained look on his face, but he managed a thin smile that barely curved up at the ends. He still said nothing, but looked at Valerie attentively.
“I say it gets weird, because I saw me in that room. You see, I was still standing by the door, but as I looked into the room of people I was there as well. I looked older too, well older than sixteen, because that’s how old I was then. I looked like I was listening to the teacher, very intently. He was talking about life—mortality, he called it—he wanted to know if any of us would volunteer to come to mortality with a disability. He also said that those who volunteered wouldn’t be able to know what type of disability they would get. Then, I saw me—the other me, the one in the room—raising my hand and volunteering.”
Dane felt himself shudder involuntarily, then stretched his hand slowly toward her face, and gently wiped some of Valerie’s tears away. This time Valerie didn’t flinch. She looked steadily at him and wondered why he wasn’t running for the door.
“Next to me sat a man,” she continued. “When I raised my hand to volunteer, I saw this man reach over for my free hand, and interlaced his fingers with mine. Then the Angel said that I had volunteered for this…mental illness of mine, and that unfortunately it wouldn’t go away. But that I was strong enough to live with it.”
Dane said nothing, though he was moved, and his gaze showed nothing but interest for Valerie’s revelations.
“After that dream, I decided to pull my act together and then took up painting. I’ve always wanted to paint my dream, but I lacked the skill. As I got better, I started to paint parts of my dream. This is the first painting I did.” She pulled out a painting of the choir of Angels; this one had apparently gotten her a scholarship.
“I didn’t see this in my dream,” she explained, “but when I first tried to convey it, this is what came out.”
Dane studied it closely. “How old were you when you painted this?” he asked, impressed.
“Seventeen.”
“It’s remarkable, it gives me chills,” he said as he held the painting and studied it closely.
Valerie smiled at his comment, and then pulled out another picture.
“This one is a sketch of the man who sat next to me in that room and held my hand when I…volunteered.” She held the picture in her hand, looking at it, wondering if she had the strength to hand it over to Dane. Her hands trembled. ane noticed and one of his eyebrows rose involuntarily. He stretched his hand and wrapped it around Valerie’s trembling hold on the picture, until she released it.
He turned it around before he focused in on it, and then looked up at Valerie one last time before looking at this mysterious sketch. Valerie lowered her head, red with embarrassment.
Dane stared at the picture for a few seconds, trying to focus his senses on a profile that looked strangely familiar. Then he realized what he was looking at. The sketch was him, a perfect sketch of his profile as if it had been done yesterday. His hair looked different, it was cut short, but other than that…
All kinds of thoughts floated through his head at this time. When did she draw this? Could she have done this recently? Then he remembered that instance during lunch, when she grabbed the side of his face and studied it. He had teased her about that then, asking her if he would make a good picture or something. She said yes. Maybe that’s when she drew him. But why the elaborate story? If she wanted to seem crazy to scare him away, why do it in this way? She could have turned him away in so many different ways, why this?
“It’s true,” Katie said in his ear. It must be true, he concluded.
“How old…” His voice croaked out and couldn’t finish his question.
“Just a few months after I drew this one,” Valerie said, pointing to the picture of the heavenly choir.
“It’s true,” Katie reassured him once more.
Dane marveled at this most glorious possibility. She had a dream, an incredible dream and I was in it, before we even knew each other. His heart was beating rapidly, a surge of emotions came over him and without thinking about what he was doing, he slid his hand underneath Valerie’s long hair and pulled her toward him. Surprised by this sudden movement, Valerie looked up. Their faces were fractions of an inch apart. Dane closed the gap between them and kissed her.
This woke something that was dead or buried deep inside Valerie. She flashed her eyes opened for an instant, then relented. Her lips felt as if they were on fire, her heart started beating once more and every muscle and nerve ending felt alive. She grabbed his face with both her hands and tangled her fingers into his hair. Warmth filled her completely and she felt more alive than ever.
Aware that her parents might be watching, Dane released his grip on Valerie and tried to regain control of his senses. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but no cohesive sentences would form.
I had been translating thoughts and emotions all along, and we were now contently watching them kiss.
“You two make quite a picture,” Alex grinned. “I wish Val could paint you two lounging on top of this gazebo, spying on her.”
“I feel like we are being watched,” Dane said with a smile.
“He has no idea…” Alex said, and we laughed.
“Unfortunately they are part of the deal too,” Valerie said as she stole a glance toward the kitchen window, where Russell and Nancy stood spying on them as well.
Dane never took his eyes off her. He traced her jaw line with his fingers and drew her to him. “I’ll take any deal that involves you.” He paused for a moment, his lips gently brushing against hers, and then kissed her again.
Alex’s thoughts caught my attention. I turned my gaze toward him. His face was down, when he noticed that I was looking at him, he looked up to meet my stare. I could have connected with him, to know exactly what he was thinking, but I didn’t have to—I felt the same way too. To connect minds with him now would have been torturous for both of us, the yearning we both felt for a body was a constant source of frustration. So we simply exchanged looks, and they conveyed all that could be said.
“So what’s my last present?” Valerie asked, as they emerged for air.
Dane was dazed and took a minute to regain his bearings. “Oh, yes. I hope you like it, but it’s certainly not your last present.”
Valerie untied the box and opened it. Inside the box was a pair of tear shaped tanzanite earrings. “Oh, they are beautiful,” she gasped.
Dane was pleased. “I thought they might go well with the pendant that your dad got you,” he clarified.
“They will,” she assured him.
Inside the kitchen Nancy was leaning her head on Russell’s shoulders. “If she doesn’t marry him, I will,” she declared.
Russell laughed heartily, kissed the top of her head and walked away from the window. “I might just forgive him his father if he makes her happy.”
“He will,” Nancy assured as she walked back to their dinner.
“What makes you so sure?”
“I feel it. He’s the one for her, just like you were the one for me.”
“What…past tense already?” Russell teased.
I didn’t dare stay any longer. The feeling that I was doing something wrong by neglecting my Sentinel duties, was overpowering. I said goodbye to Katie, and Alex flew with me back to the door.
“Well…” Alex started to say with a sigh. “It looks good for them.”
“Yeah, and that means that you are not far behind,” I told him.
He nodded and kissed my forehead before pushing me through to the other side.
I tried calling Robyn again, and I got no answer—again. Now I was worried, so I started for the Angelic Missions building to see if I could get any information from the billboard. But as I was heading there I was instructed to present myself back at the Archives and Records room for my new assignment—as a Scribe—once more.
Luckily I didn’t have to be a Scribe for
very long before I was ordered back to the Angelic Mission’s building. So the first thing I did was stop by the billboard to check on Robyn. There I noticed that Alex was now listed as “undercover” and Robyn was listed as “unreachable” which was weird. I looked back at the list, Dorian was also “undercover” and Katie was reassigned to class, Jase too.
I looked around the lounge, and that old uneasiness of being all alone came back to me. I truly hated this. I felt so uncomfortable standing there all alone, not knowing anyone. There were a few scattered groups here and there, talking in hushed tones. Then I noticed that their auras were all the same—somber.
Several different windows were broadcasting from different parts of the spirit world where the latest disappearances had taken place.
One of the windows was reporting that several spirits that had been missing had been found wandering in a remote area of the spiritual Australian bush, with no recollection of what had happened to them or how they had gotten there. I listened to several disoriented spirits who thought they had been in class all along when in reality they were not.
“I thought I was in my Earth’s Cultures class. We were covering the crusades,” one of the spirits said.
“Surely you know that the crusades were over several hundred of years ago?” the reporter asked.
“No…I just…we just covered it,” the poor spirit said, dismayed by the realization that he had just missed hundreds of years in a class he cared nothing about.
“Where are the Eternals, and why aren’t they doing anything about this?” one of the spirits shouted from behind and several others shouted in agreement.
This brought to mind Kerubiel’s admonition that “…the time may come when you might be tempted to ask yourself—why are the Eternals letting this happen right under their noses? And I want you to know the answer in advance. They are not letting this happen, they are sending YOU to fix it.”
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