by M. R. THOMAS
Abbie began to experience that sense of floating but this time she was not yet outside herself. Her sobs suddenly ceased and to her surprise she was aware of willing her own consciousness to leave her body; she focused on her breathing, still aware of that sense of dizziness moving slightly within her. She really willed it to happen; she needed it to happen.
“Please, please” she whispered, willing herself on.
Then it happened, quite easily and gracefully: she had a sensation of rising up quite slowly but purposefully, up and out of her body that remained curled up on the chair, breaking free from its physical shackles into the bright realm beyond her physical existence.
That floating sensation brought a real sense of blissfulness, of peace and tranquillity to her mind. Abbie was comforted and enveloped in warmth. Light glowed all around her. She made a conscious effort to stop and look around her, to take in all her surroundings, but there was nothing to take in, no perception of others being there, just her alone in this place. She wondered should she shout for Peter? Could he hear her? Was he even close by?
Suddenly Abbie was aware of two bright entities in front of her and, as she looked, they transformed into the familiar shapes of Isaac and Sarah. They did not speak to her this time but beckoned her to follow them. She wanted to move forward, and found that by merely thinking about it she could to the extent that, after a few moments, she realised that she was moving quite rapidly.
Abbie followed Isaac and Sarah, and gradually became aware of different surroundings: there was the same calmness and tranquil feelings but the environment she was in was much more familiar, she was moving along above her own home town. She could make out roads and buildings, the park where she ran, the hill she had yet to conquer. She continued to travel for some time, Isaac and Sarah never too far in front, the humans below them going about their business, unaware of their presence in the astral sky.
Isaac spoke, as if reading her thoughts.
“They cannot see us, we are within a different frequency and they have no idea of our existence. We are in a different dimension but we have the ability to look into their world from ours”.
Abbie saw a bus full of people, a police officer controlling traffic; it was as though her unconscious mind was leading her somewhere, and she did not resist it.
As the world around her began to slow down, Abbie felt very uncomfortable and, startled, she found herself approaching the woods on the edge of the town where Peter had died. Although only a few miles from her home she had not wanted to go there yet, but now here she was facing that feared place.
Why be brought here and why now?
Then the thought occurred to her that maybe Peter was here waiting for her, maybe this is it. She began to tremble and she felt like she was crying but did not have any awareness of tears; she was silent, not making even a murmur, she could even sense her own breath.
“Abbie” Isaac said, “You are here to begin to fulfil your purpose, this is it, Peter is here, you will see him very soon”.
Abbie began to shake uncontrollably, and she was unable to speak.
“It is all right” said Sarah, “you are safe, there is nothing to fear, or alarm you
but before you see Peter, I must tell you this: you will recognise him without doubt but at times a spirit entity needs time to adjust to this place and what has happened, and to learn to accept this. That is why, despite your journeys here you so far have not seen him; he wanted to see you but was not ready or able to deal with this, it was nothing he could control. But now he can, and he is waiting for you Abbie, treasure this moment”.
“Go into the woods and you will see him”.
As Abbie moved forwards effortlessly, she was aware of the trees and the darkness that the canopies formed, and she was also strangely aware that the air was distinctly cooler too. She saw the path and with a deep breath began to glide along it; she could see no humans below her, the place was empty, very still and quiet.
She looked all around her taking in all she saw, waiting.
Abbie gradually became aware of something, or someone, behind her, so she slowly turned towards it, cautious but eager. From the corner of her vision she was aware of a beautiful glow, a spherical brightness that seemed to rotate around itself; it generated a sense of peace and warmth towards her. She turned and looked squarely at this entity. As she did, its shape began to alter, becoming clearer and more human: the profile became distinct, the outline becoming more familiar and she was certain that these were the features that she had once loved and caressed.
The glowing mass before her continued to evolve and change becoming uniquely recognisable - Peter.
All she could do was stare, mesmerised, in utter disbelief.
Could this be real? Or am I dreaming?
Her whole body quivered with emotion, she wasn’t sure if tears were flowing or not, it didn’t matter.
“‘Peter, is that you, really you?” “Oh my darling, it is! It’s really you!”
There were several metres between them, but in an instant they were both crossing the gap towards each other. They were about to sweep one another up in an embrace and kisses when suddenly Abbie stopped and looked around her, seeing only her darkening lounge in her house in the fading light in the afternoon.
“Peter!” she shouted, but there was no response or embrace, she was back in her chair in the lounge, in the dark and cold reality of her life.
She sat up to get her breath realising that the moment had gone. Shocked by this awakening that had stopped her touching him, she cried out
“No, no, not now, I want to go back, please let me go back”, but her cries merely echoed in her empty house.
Abbie sat in the chair, and continued to focus on her breathing in a calm, meditative way, doing all that she could to re-establish that sense of peace, but despite her repeated attempts it just would not happen; she could not re-enter that blissful realm.
When Abbie accepted that her attempts were futile, she opened her eyes and faced the cold grey reality. She sat still in the darkness and played over in her mind what had happened to her: Isaac, Sarah, the woods, travelling in a different dimension, a glowing entity becoming Peter. She had really seen him. It was unmistakably him, heard his voice, looked at his face and into his eyes, and almost held him again.
Almost though, was not close enough.
Chapter 10
That evening Abbie was highly agitated after the events of that afternoon. She found herself unable to settle at all; her mind raced and flitted from thought to thought, and she found that she did not have the mental and emotional energy to focus and concentrate on anything.
She paced the floor back and forth, made herself hot drinks but then found she didn’t want them; she tried to sit but got up again as she couldn’t be still. She made several attempts to return to the place where she had found Peter, but it just would not happen. Her mind felt full, oppressed by the circumstances that had stopped her being close to Peter again.
The phone rang and Abbie immediately picked it up, wondering just as swiftly why she had done so as she was in no mood to speak to people and make pleasant conversation.
Abbie had never been more unhappy to hear Kate’s voice, cheerful as ever.
“Hi you” she said, “What are you up to? If nothing then I was hoping to come over to see you for a chat, how about it?”
Abbie paused, not sure what to say or how to answer.
“Abbie, you OK?”
“Yes kind of”, she responded at last, “look Kate, it’s lovely that you think of me and look out for me, but to be honest I’m not good at the moment, I’ve had a difficult afternoon, I want…no I actually need to be alone”.
“That’s not like you, what’s happened?”
“Nothing specific, it’s just me dealing with or not really dealing with all this stuff. I need to be on my own so please don’t come over, I need some space”.
“OK, that’s fine, but I’m here for you remember
. I’m worried for you, so promise to call me if you need to OK?”
“I will, I promise”.
Abbie hung up the ‘phone straight away leaving Kate listening to the dialling tone. Kate stood for a while and then replaced the receiver; she was convinced that her friend was somehow not right; it was something more than the grief. Concerns niggled at her but what could she do? She had been asked to stay away, and she had to respect that.
Kate called Abbie’s mother to sound her out, to see if she too had been given the cold shoulder recently.
Rose wasn’t aware of anything specific; she hadn’t seen Abbie for a few days, giving her the space that she seemed to need. She had seemed fine the last time they spoke, maybe it was just an off day?
“Maybe I should call her, do you think?” Rose asked Kate.
“Perhaps, I don’t know, just don’t mention that I spoke to you OK?”
“No that’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be better tomorrow”
After about 30 minutes, Rose duly rang Abbie’s number and she again answered the phone straightaway. Abbie’s explanations about having an
off- day didn’t do much to offer comfort to her mum; she felt there was an edge to her daughter’s voice, an agitation that had not been there previously.
Rose’s closing comment was “as long as you’re doing OK? You know we’re here for you, don’t you?”
After the call Abbie felt tense and annoyed: so Kate had called her mum to talk about her, otherwise why would she have used the word ‘we’?
Can’t I just be left alone! She thought in frustration, for God’s sake, I’m in pain; I don’t need all this interference.
At about 10 pm, Abbie decided that sleep was most likely not on the agenda that evening, as her mind wouldn’t settle or offer her the prospect of any rest.
She opened a bottle of wine, which had been in the kitchen for several weeks, one of the last that Peter had bought. She read the label but it was all in French so she couldn’t make head or tail of it. The colour and the aroma of the red liquid enticed her to sip, but the sips didn’t last long; the glass was empty after the sips had turned to mouthfuls.
Abbie couldn’t recall eating much during the day, so the wine’s effect very soon took hold: she felt calmer and more relaxed, and her face felt slightly flushed. At last the edge had been taken off her anxiety, for a while at least.
Abbie was now able to sit still for more than a few minutes. It was as though the wine allowed the agitation to flow out of her body, and away from her. Her mind felt lighter, her physical self more relaxed. Her mind now unburdened, and she refilled her glass.
Bloody good stuff, she thought as she turned on the DAB radio, and the smooth chilled notes of a jazz piano filled the silent room, the gentle rhythm also seeming to add to her relaxation. She quickly downed the contents of her glass and reached for another refill.
After a shower, Abbie put on a bathrobe and went back downstairs. The warm
water had again revitalised and refreshed her. She felt mellow and chilled-out for the first time in a long time, but she didn’t yet feel ready for sleep.
She heard the wind getting blowing outside, getting stronger as it swept through the trees. Do spirits get blown about in the wind, she wondered.
Abbie looked at the photo of her and Peter again; his gentle eyes and loving smile. It then dawned on her that maybe she had been just too self-centred, too selfish. Yes, she had so wanted to see Peter, to hold him again, but that was for her need and her need alone, to ease her pain. Maybe though, she needed to consider what Isaac had said, that this was all for a purpose. So somehow, she thought, she would have to try to put aside her own wants and needs, and focus instead on what Peter needed: maybe that was to be able to move on, though that immediately made her uncomfortable; how could she bear to help him to move on when she had only just found him?
And if that did happen, could he then still be found and seen, wherever that would be? Abbie realised that she actually yearned for him, and putting her needs aside would not be easy.
God help me! She thought.
………………………………………………………….
Later on that night, still unable to sleep, Abbie again wrote in her journal, describing her thoughts and feelings but not giving any account of the events that were the real reason she was so troubled.
About 1 am Abbie walked into the darkened kitchen to consider getting something to eat. In the half-light reflected from the hall she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window as she passed, her bathrobe half open revealing naked pale flesh underneath.
She stopped and looked at herself and was surprised to feel, for the first time in days, the familiar sensual flutters and stirrings. She gazed at her reflection and put a hand inside her bathrobe; her breast was soft and warm, and her skin quivered at her own hand as she undid the belt of the bathrobe and gazed at her near naked reflection. She remembered the last time she had felt like this, and as her hands explored her body further she found she was quickly becoming wet and aroused.
Soon Abbie was lying naked on the bed, her arousal reaching a deep and satisfying climax that sent waves of pleasure through her whole body, and she moaned out loud with pleasure.
It all happened quite quickly and relaxed her even more, but for some reason she didn’t understand there was no additional experience this time, no out-of-body experience, or even any sensations of movement she’d experienced just before it had happened.
Abbie lay on her bed and realised that this didn’t alarm her or distress her: for now, for whatever reason, it just hadn’t happened. This time she hadn’t done this as a way of trying to reach Peter; it had purely been for her pleasure and it had satisfied her.
Abbie couldn’t actually recall climbing under the quilt but she fell asleep quickly. She woke in the early hours and realised that her mind and body seemed at one and were calm and relaxed. In her half wake half sleep state, she thought of Peter and whispered “I love you” into the darkness.
Immediately he replied “I love you too” and she was jolted awake at the sound of his voice. She sat up, turned on the bedside lamp and looked around the room, but she was alone.
“‘Peter, are you there?” But there was only silence in the house as the wind whistled through the trees outside. Abbie sighed and turned off the light, snuggling down under the covers and sleep returned its peaceful gift.
……………………………………………………………….
In the morning Abbie didn’t know what to do with herself. How could she focus on anything other than reaching Peter?
She decided to go for a long run, one that would take her somewhere quiet, away from people, a run that could give her both time and a physical challenge. A run that she hoped would transport her to that other dimension.
After some porridge of which she ate only a little, Abbie dressed in her running gear and got into the car, driving for a few minutes to a nearby country park where she knew tracks went for miles and was relatively flat. As it was autumn with a stirring wind and threatening rain from darkened skies, there were not many people about. After few minutes warm-up Abbie zipped her fleece up to her neck, pulled her hat over her ears and then set off running at a brisk pace.
These tracks were easy underfoot, not demanding like the path on the hill, and her pace was comfortable and easy. She knew that she wanted and felt able to make it a long run, so she paced herself as she ran into the unknown. The wind was becoming stronger and hit her from the side; at times it seemed to try hard to push her off balance and off the path. But Abbie persevered, pushing against this natural barrier to her destiny.
Her feet and legs felt light as she almost flew over the ground.
Have I lost more weight, she wondered, then realised it was very likely as even her tight fitting leggings now felt loose. She was also aware of no sense of bounce or discomfort from her breasts, or was that just the benefit of good sports bra, she coul
d not decide.
After a few miles at a steady pace, Abbie decide to increase her efforts: she focused on a tree some 150 metres further on and raised her stride to a sprint, lifting her legs high, pumping the air with her arms; she was aware of moving faster and more effortlessly than she had done before. Towards the final few metres before the tree, she knew that she was slowing down; lactic acid was building rapidly in her muscles, and as she reached the tree her efforts were exhausted.
Abbie slowed to a gentle jog to recover. Her breathing laboured and her heart pounded, but surprisingly it didn’t take long for her to improve. Encouraged by the rapid recovery, a few minutes further on she did the same thing again: she set a marker ahead and sprinted to it as fast as she was able, her muscles squeezing the last remnants of energy from her depleted body. She managed to maintain the sprint for her target distance, but this time the sheer effort of keeping moving was much harder.