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The Inner Movement

Page 6

by Brandt Legg


  A few years before, Mom had cleared out a lot of his things but pretty much ignored the study, a small room off their bedroom still stacked with books and papers. His desk was more like a dresser but the slanted top folded down. I searched for a while, finding nothing of interest until a thought popped into my head to look behind the small drawers that held paper clips and rubber bands. There seemed to be too much space between them and the back of the desk. My fingers touched a tiny metal circle in the wood that I couldn’t see from the front. I pushed it and a false panel swung open. It was a small cavity, maybe big enough for a paperback book.

  Pulling out my discovery, four small pieces of gray stationery written in my dad’s handwriting. Three were in some sort of foreign language. The fourth was a list of names I didn’t recognize except for Lee Duncan. I was ecstatic, like Sherlock Holmes. There was also a very small gold box with jade inlaid circle and diamond patterns, about the size of a matchbox car but light and obviously hollow, but no latch or any way to open it. The final item was an intricately carved piece of tube-shaped dark wood maybe three inches long. Knowing Dad had hidden these items, it was as if we were unraveling the mystery together.

  I carefully closed the secret space, neatened his desk and took the treasures with me. Even after rummaging through the rest of the room, the garage, closets, nothing else surfaced. It was impossible to get the box open without destroying it so I decided to wait and see if Kyle had any ideas about what the objects were or how to decipher the papers.

  Kyle called as I was finishing the search.

  “Good timing, I said. “ Wait until you see what—”

  “I’m in your driveway,” he interrupted obviously agitated. “We need to talk right now.” I ran down. He was backing onto the street before I’d even closed the car door.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I’ll show you in a minute.”

  “Can’t you just tell me now?”

  “No. I need to show you.” A minute later we were pulling into a parking space next to one of the bridges leading into Lithia Park. Once in the trees, Kyle stopped walking and put his hands on my shoulders. “This is getting scary, Nate.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Some old Spanish woman came up to me and said she had a message for you.”

  “What woman? When?”

  “About twenty minutes ago. I don’t know who she is. I was about to get into my car in front of my house, and this old woman walks up all friendly and says, ‘Hello Kyle, my name is Amparo. You don’t know me, but I have a message for you from someone who wants to help you and Nate.’ She looked, you know, friendly enough, and it’s broad daylight. With all this crazy stuff going down, it didn’t seem so weird even though I knew it was.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That we’re in danger, serious danger.”

  “Hold on. Tell me exactly what she said.”

  “Her name was Amparo. She was delivering a message from a guy who knew your father and Lee Duncan for like twenty years; they’d been very close. He needed to warn us about the serious danger we’re in and wanted to explain some extremely important things to you, including the truth about your dad’s death.”

  “All right, I’m sorry, but doesn’t this sound creepy?”

  “Of course it does, but so does everything lately. She said to meet the guy in Brookings on Sunday at Tea Leaf Beach at the first low tide, and he’d be waiting for you.”

  “Meet him? How do we know this Brookings guy isn’t the one who wants to hurt us? How did they find us? How do we know we can believe them?”

  “She said you would ask those questions, and I’m supposed to tell you that the person who sent her can tell you why Brett shot Wesley.”

  “Jesus!” I choked. I hadn’t told anyone about that Outview. I leaned against a tree wrestling with fear and amazement.

  “Who are Brett and Wesley?” Kyle demanded.

  “Do you remember last July when you found me on the ground in my backyard?

  “Of course.”

  “Well, it wasn’t the post that knocked me out. I’d had an Outview, and in that lifetime I was Wesley and a guy named Brett shot me.”

  “You mean you actually physically feel what happens to you in a past life?”

  “Yeah, it’s not as severe, but it’s still real.”

  “Incredible.” His eyes deepened and at the same time were distant.

  “Sometimes I think crazy might be a better alternative.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t rule that out yet.” He sat on the ground and fumbled with his pack of cigarettes. “What do you think?”

  “No one on the planet knew about Brett and Wesley. I mean how could he possibly even know those names?”

  “This Amparo was really old, like a sweet great-grandmother, not the type to send us into a trap.”

  “But it could be trap,” I said.

  “Why? Who would want to?”

  “The same people who killed Duncan and my dad.”

  “If someone wanted you dead, why couldn’t they just do it here. Why Brookings?”

  “I know, right. And if he knew about Wesley and Brett, then something wild is going on. I want to know I’m not crazy and if my dad was murdered. I have to meet him. It’s riskier not to.”

  “Yeah, but then what? We have to come home sometime. We have school on Monday.”

  “Kyle, don’t you think school is the least of our worries?”

  “Maybe yours, but I need a perfect GPA to get into MIT.”

  “MIT doesn’t admit dead students.”

  “Don’t get carried away!”

  “Kyle, listen, all the dead Montgomery Ryders, Lee Duncan confiding in Dad and dying the next day, now this old lady shows up to set a clandestine rendezvous with some mysterious mind reader . . . and I found two strange objects and hidden papers concealed behind a secret panel in my Dad’s desk, one of them with Lee Duncan’s name. I mean, it’s like we’ve fallen into a Hitchcock movie.”

  “I know. Add all that to New Age Mayes’ theories of your past lives, you and Dustin seeing and hearing whatever it is you do, and I think it’s more like the Twilight Zone.”

  “Welcome to my world! You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s from an old Eagles song . . . Never mind, I always forget you and modern music aren’t acquainted. But I could use your other considerable mental talents to help me figure out the stuff from my dad’s desk. It’s all codes and symbols, pretty weird.”

  “Of course it is,” he forced a laugh. “We’ll look at them on the trip.”

  “You think we should be scared?”

  “I didn’t before Amparo showed up. Oh, she also warned that anything we say on our phones can be heard and our online activity is being monitored. She said not to travel with our cell phones or computers.”

  “It sure as hell sounds like we should be scared!”

  15

  Later that night, I was home packing a backpack, including the objects and papers from Dad’s desk. A bad feeling that I might not return came over me. It was probably a combination of the Amparo woman showing up and the concept of my dad and his friend being killed by some mysterious person powerful enough to make their deaths appear accidental. I looked around at my favorite photos, books on great photographers, and fiddled with a few of my old matchbox cars that lined my bookshelves. The sense of doom worsened, so I meditated.

  A sudden knock at the front door jolted me, and I carefully peered out the window. Amber’s turquoise bug was parked next to my dad’s old Toyota silver 4x4 pickup truck. Mom had saved it for Dustin, who had driven it for one day before his suicide run to Shasta. I used to think she was keeping it for when he got out, but now it seemed more likely she was saving it for me, if she ever let me get my license. But I was determined to see Dustin drive it again.

  “I’m glad you stopped by. Can we go for a drive?”
r />   “Sure.” She smiled. Amber was wearing a purple tank top and white shorts, thin leather sandals. She must know how distracting her looks were.

  I told her about the message from the guy in Brookings. We forgot about a drive and just sat there talking. She listened to the whole story, the concern on her face clear. “Oh, Nate,” she finally said, casually putting her hand on my thigh. “It’s exciting and scary at the same time!”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “But maybe after seeing Dustin and the Brookings guy, the mysteries will unravel.”

  “Or get deeper.”

  “Think positive.”

  “I’ll try, but just in case, I want you to know the meeting is at the first low tide on Sunday at Tea Leaf Beach in Brookings. You’re the only one I’m telling.” I fidgeted with the beads hanging from her rearview mirror.

  “I’ve never heard of Tea Leaf, and I’ve been going to Brookings forever.”

  “Well, if someone’s trying to set a trap, why wouldn’t he just grab me here. I’m not hiding. And he knew about that Outview.”

  “I know; that’s so amazing.”

  “Frightening is more like it, that someone’s been inside my head.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t in your head. Maybe he’s from that lifetime.”

  “Great, maybe Brett’s come back to finish me off. Not only is there danger in this lifetime, but people are traveling through time to kill me.”

  “I doubt it. I just know it’s someone trying to help you. I can’t wait to find out. Do you want to stay at our beach house?”

  “Could we?”

  “Yeah, no one’s there.” She told me where the key was hidden.

  “I wish you could come.”

  “Me, too, but my mother gets back tomorrow for a long weekend of ‘quality time.’ It’s a joke; my mother’s only close to her make-up mirror. But my sister will be home, too.”

  “I had another Outview today.” I waited until her eyes found mine. “You were in it.”

  “Really?” She couldn’t hide her pleasure. “When was it? Where was it?”

  “We were sisters. It was at least a hundred years ago because you were driving a horse-drawn wagon. I was lying in the back in dirty blankets and straw, cold. But there were wildflowers. You spoke in a language that sounded German, but I don’t think it was. My body was brittle on the rough road, like a vase rattling in a crate, and I begged you to stop.”

  “You were dying?”

  “Yeah, like always. You started crying when you finally stopped the wagon.”

  “How old were we?”

  “Hard to say. We looked sixty, but I think we were really thirty-something. So you were crying because you knew we weren’t going to get any help. Even if we did, it was too late. You could tell I’d be dead very soon.”

  “Tell me about the way an Outview comes to you. How do you see it?”

  “It’s almost like watching a movie, but the screen has no defined shape. And only pieces are in focus as I look at them. Sometimes just part of a face is clear, but what I can see is in 3D. I’m like an observer floating right there, but at the same time I’m one of the participants, experiencing and feeling everything they do.”

  “Like a dream.”

  “But with actual physical pain.”

  Her face saddened.

  “They’re so real, like I’m there but pressure from all the years between pushes away everything that isn’t in my immediate view. But lately, the area in focus has been getting larger.”

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “That’s what’s cool about this one. I saw your eyes going into it and knew you’d be there. That’s never happened before. But it’s hard to explain, a recognition in the eyes.”

  “Have you ever seen anyone else you know?”

  “Mom, Dustin, and Kyle at various times.”

  “What happened next?”

  “An agonized tragic scream from you as I died.” Amber reached over, put her arms around me, and pulled me close, her wet tears on my cheek, the warmth of her breath in my nose, the slight fragrance of apples as we melted together, embracing sisters across a century of absence. I know we stayed like that for several minutes, and when we fell back to this time Amber was staring into my eyes through blurry tears. She gave me the softest kiss, our lips touching like the brush of a feather. We sat in the car for a while longer, not in an awkward way, just warm silence. “I should go,” I said, getting out, surprised how drained I was.

  “Promise you’ll call me from Brookings.”

  “If not before.” I leaned into the window a moment, then turned and jogged to my house.

  Later, I walked over to Sam’s. “You have to watch Blindman tonight. It’s great!” He handed it to me once we were inside.

  “I won’t have time until next week. I’m leaving early in the morning on a camping trip. That’s why I came over, to tell you I won’t get to your lawn again until Monday after school.”

  “Great weather for camping! Where you headed?”

  “Me and a few friends are going to Crater Lake.”

  “I love it there. Forget the grass. It’ll be here.”

  “Thanks. Hey, could I ask something without you thinking I’m crazy.”

  “Try me.”

  “The reason I wanted to know what you thought about reincarnation is because I keep seeing visions of what I think are past lives I’ve had, and it’s almost like I’m there. They happen a lot, and I’m afraid I could be losing it.”

  “You’re not crazy Nate. You’re about one of the most well-adjusted kids I’ve ever met, mature, responsible, great taste in films.” He tapped the copy of Blindman I was still holding. If you’re having visions like that, you should explore them, maybe keep a journal. Have you talked to your mother about them?”

  “No. I don’t like how she handled things with Dustin. That’s why I wanted to ask you. I’ve told a couple of close friends, but I’d like an adult’s point of view. And, well, you’ve been all over the world and dated Cindy, who was really into reincarnation.”

  “Mindy,” he corrected, smiling. “It’s not as unusual as you think. In fact, in India and that part of the world, it’s pretty common. In Tibet, they believe every Dalai Lama over the last seven hundred years has been the same soul reincarnated, each being an incarnation of the last. That way they retain the spiritual wisdom acquired over all those lifetimes. If you thought you were the Dalai Lama, I might wonder, but seeing pieces of prior lives is fascinating. Write it all down. What a cool movie it would make: teenager relives past lives.” A great weight lifted as Sam spoke. He was a successful adult and talked like what was happening was normal. We spoke for another half hour, and he even gave me Mindy’s number in case I wanted to talk to someone else.

  16

  Friday, September 19

  By the time the sun made an appearance, we had Kyle’s car packed with sleeping bags, tent, piles of schoolbooks, three backpacks, two iPods, and a jammed cooler. Mom was still asleep when we left. Kyle and I reluctantly left our phones, but Linh brought hers in case something went wrong but kept the power off. She rode shotgun, while I worked on meditating in the back seat.

  Each time my mind got close to clarity, the depths of my situation obliterated it. How could we get Dustin out? My dad hadn’t died of a heart attack; he’d been murdered and his killers might be after me. Clear, clear, clear. What is happening—the pops, auras, paranormal visions, voices, and shapeshifting? Focus, focus, focus. All at once there was a shift and control. I was unprepared for the calm, a feeling of vanishing into the universe yet being connected to everything. It’s hard to say how long that state lasted, probably no more than ten minutes. Next, a voice spoke like the ones I’d been hearing for so long, but it was clearer and saying more than one word, much more. It was like hearing three voices at once, with the words condensed so four words came in the space of one. Surprisingly, it was easy to understand, and what it said was al
most too fantastic to believe.

  “Where were you?” Linh asked.

  “How long was I gone?”

  “Almost half an hour,” she said.

  “That was a good meditation,” Kyle said slowly, unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth.

  “Do you ever hear voices when you meditate?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  “But like a bunch, all talking at the same time, and you’re able to hear everything?”

  “No, that sounds like a Nate original. What did they say?” he asked deliberately.

  “They said I could do anything.”

  “Sounds like my uncle,” Kyle eyed Linh.

  “Yeah, but they meant stuff we think is impossible. If I remember my soul, the universe will be there and all human limitations will vanish.”

  “Do you have to die for that to happen?” Linh asked.

  “They said there are many things coming and that I must be ready.” I sounded possessed, and wondered if they believed me.

  “Go on,” Kyle urged.

  “They said I needed to be ready to face evil.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened. “Then let’s get someone to buy us beer.”

  “I’m serious,” I said.

  “So am I.”

  “No, you’re not,” Linh said. “I believe you heard it, Nate.”

  I couldn’t tell if she meant she believed it happened or just that I thought it did.

  “I believe you, too,” Kyle said. “I’m just not ready to fight off Hannibal Lecter this weekend.”

  “I wish I could explain how it feels to know something so bizarre with absolute certainty. On an incredibly deep level I know it’s all true, and I’m not just worried, I’m terrified.”

  “These will help.” Linh tossed me a pack of almond M&M’s.

  “That, some Twizzlers, and a Coke will almost have the same effect as beer,” Kyle said.

  Everyone laughed.

  I passed the stuff from my Dad’s desk around, but beyond a cursory glance, Kyle couldn’t really focus on them because he was driving, and Linh was as baffled as I.

 

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