House of Cry

by Linda Bleser

  I searched the small room. There weren’t many places to hide anything. Sure enough, I found a dime-store composition book tucked into the drawer of my nightstand. I glanced through the pages, which were mostly blank. The written pages began on the day I was admitted. Apparently my regular journal had been left behind, and I’d had to make do with this instead.

  To my surprise, I found poetry. Not the sugar-sweet poems I’d found in the world where I was married to Bob, or my mother’s tortured words that scraped raw nerves, but something in between. They were an almost perfect marriage of darkness and light that seemed to tap into the deepest corners of my soul. Most were unfinished, some only a few lines, but they all felt familiar, as if they’d come from deep within my own subconscious.

  I lost myself in the pages of the journal, relishing the words like they were my own. And in many ways, they were. Every now and then something resonated, as if binding together our two lives, our separate experiences.

  I saw her floating above the bay

  In a dress spun of shadows and silk

  She touched her lips and looked my way

  And sent me a thought on a breeze

  “She’s coming, she’s coming, take heed.”

  Could the woman in this poem be Maya? Perhaps my doppelganger had sensed Maya’s presence on a subconscious level, where all dreams and poems are born. And who was coming? Did the final line of the poem refer to me?

  I thumbed through the pages, sometimes forgetting I hadn’t written the words myself. One playful snippet seemed to sum up exactly what I’d been going through since that fateful day when I’d first entered the House of Cry.

  Where am I going?

  Where have I been?

  In the land of me and mine

  I ran my fingers over the page. That was me, all right. Lost in the land of me and mine.

  As I read farther into the journal, I realized that my alter ego had already begun her journey toward self-healing. Her writing showed that she was remorseful and grateful to be alive. She’d been eagerly participating in her therapy sessions and anxious to make it up to Cassie for the grief she’d caused. She’d even encouraged Lorelei to start chronicling her own journey to facilitate her recovery process.

  I was confident that my other self would be fine once I moved on. Just in case, I added another entry for her to find when she was once more in control of her own body.

  Had another good session with Dr. Cody. My memory has been spotty, but I trust him to help me continue my journey toward complete mental and physical healing. Worked with Lorelei today and encouraged her to continue journaling her feelings. I know it’s been helpful for me and will be good for her as well. Maybe when we’re out of here the two of us can continue working together. She has a real aptitude for writing that I’d like to help her develop. I hope to see Cassie tomorrow. Maybe she’ll forgive me for what I’ve put her through.

  I’ve learned that the past doesn’t define me. I have to let go of the blame and make my life the best it can be from this point forward. Instead of running from death, start running toward life.

  I put the pen down and sat back, realizing that while I’d started out writing for the owner of this journal, I’d ended up counseling myself as well. Maybe this was something we both needed to remember. I hoped when she read those words they would mean as much to her as they did to me.

  *

  The next morning I went into my session with Parker hoping he would confirm everything I’d told him and welcome me with open arms. That wasn’t the case.

  “What did you find out?” I asked.

  “Have a seat,” he said, pointedly ignoring my question. “First I’d like to hear more about these other personalities.”

  I had to be careful. I didn’t want my own brother labeling me with dissociative identity disorder. “Not other personalities,” I said. “One personality. One life that branches off into multiple directions. I’m Jenna Hall in each of those parallel realities, simply living a life formed by the choices I’ve made.”

  I kept my voice calm. It wouldn’t do to act hysterical, no matter how frustrating it was not being able to convince him. “It wasn’t easy for me to understand either, as you can imagine. And I’m still not sure exactly why I was given this opportunity, but it seems like there’s a lesson to be learned with each shift in reality.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. I could see that something had changed. Maybe he’d done some research on that many-worlds theory he’d told me about and was starting to take me seriously. Or half seriously.

  The thing was, I didn’t really need him to believe me fully. I simply needed him to believe me enough to unlock the secrets of his birth and reunite with his sisters in this timeline. I’d take care of reuniting with him in my own timeline, assuming I could convince him to help me get back.

  I left my session feeling more hopeful than I had yesterday. From what I knew of Parker, he was governed more by logic than imagination. But he was still my mother’s son, and some of her open-mindedness had to reside in him somewhere. Given enough time, I was sure I could tap into that vein. The problem was that I had a feeling time might be running out.

  I waited the rest of the morning for Cassie to arrive, searching for her face each time the door opened. I paced the room, willing her to show up. I missed her desperately. I glanced out the window for the millionth time and noticed Lorelei walking outside with a guest. My heart skittered. There was something familiar about the man walking beside her. But it couldn’t be. Could it?

  As they came closer, I got a better look at Lorelei’s companion. It was Bob. How? Why? Was it just a coincidence? Surely if he knew Lorelei, I’d have known, wouldn’t I? I twisted the ring on my fingers. Maybe not. I’d only been with him a few short weeks, hardly long enough to meet every person we knew.

  Unless …

  I tried to remember everything Bob had said about his brother. They’d had a child, a daughter. Had he mentioned a name? I couldn’t remember. Could this be the niece he’d spoken about? The one I’d taken under my wing when her parents were killed? That might explain why I felt so protective of Lorelei even though we’d just met.

  I followed their progress, my heart beating faster as they drew closer. A thousand sensory memories bombarded me—the clean smell of his hair, the heat of his skin against mine, the softness of his lips, and the hardness of his body. How was it possible that he was a stranger to me in this life when I knew him so well?

  I wanted to run to him, to throw myself into his arms, but I realized how crazy that would seem. It didn’t stop me from leaning toward the window, wishing he’d look up at me with a smile of recognition.

  I tried to make myself invisible in the corner as they came into the room, afraid that I’d give myself away.

  “There you are,” Lorelei called, dragging Bob by the arm. “This is Jenna,” she said, “the lady I told you about.”

  She turned to me. “Jenna, this is my uncle Bob. He’s one of the good guys.”

  I held out my hand, my voice barely a whisper as my heart pounded in my throat. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  His hand closed around mine in a way that was so familiar it nearly broke my heart. In another life those hands knew me intimately, had given me both comfort and pleasure. “Laura has told me so much about you.”

  “Laura?”

  He glanced at his niece and gave her a conspirator’s smile. “I mean Lorelei.”

  Obviously Lorelei had insisted on changing her name to something a little more exotic. I found Bob’s willingness to go along with her endearing.

  “She said you’ve been helping her get in touch with her feelings.”

  “Big deal,” Lorelei said with a bravado that I was already beginning to realize masked her vulnerability. “She showed me how to write in a journal. That doesn’t make her a saint or nothing.”

  Bob gave Lorelei a gentle hug. She rolled her eyes, but I could see that she adored him and he adored her as well.


  “I have to admit I have a soft spot for your niece,” I said. “God only knows why. She’s moody, belligerent, and a pain in the ass sometimes.”

  “Oh, so you do know her pretty well,” Bob said with a chuckle.

  Lorelei punched him on the arm and stuck her tongue out at me. “Takes one to know one,” she said, then threw her arms around me and gave me a quick hug.

  I really did care for her, and now I understood that she was another connection in this life line. All the puzzle pieces were falling into place. Lorelei was my link to Bob in this life, and Bob would be the conduit to Lorelei in the next. Once I made that connection, I’d be able to give Lorelei the time and attention she needed to heal completely. Maybe this time it would be easier for both of us.

  I left Bob and Lorelei alone to continue their visit. It was difficult to be so close to Bob and not touch him or send him meaningful glances. It wasn’t time for me to insert myself into his world. Not yet. But I knew that time would come and we’d all be better for it.

  I turned and caught Bob staring after me with a puzzled frown on his face. Maybe on some level he knew me. That thought gave me hope that no matter how or when, we’d always find each other again, just as I’d promised.

  *

  That afternoon I took my journal and walked alone into the woods. It was peaceful and serene, and I felt comfortable in my own skin for the first time I could remember. I found it ironic that I’d finally found my center of sanity in a place that sheltered people who struggled to hold onto theirs. Only now that I was on solid ground could I see how dangerously close I had been to falling.

  I settled on a bench beneath the shade of a lush oak. The air was fresh with the green scent of pine, reminding me of Christmases past, beribboned gifts, and delicious expectation. It sent me back to a time of innocence when anything was possible. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. The sun was warm on my skin. The simple pleasure of fresh air and sunshine brought a smile to my face.

  It wasn’t long before I realized I wasn’t alone. I knew, without even opening my eyes, that Maya had joined me on the bench. I suspected she was always somewhere close by, even when she wasn’t physically present.

  “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  She murmured her assent. A comfortable silence stretched between us. I no longer felt the need to batter Maya with questions. I felt as if all the answers were inside me, simply waiting for the concealing layers to be peeled away.

  “You know, when I was little I believed we all had a guardian angel over our shoulder,” I said. “It was comforting to know someone was watching over me, protecting and guiding me.”

  “So it wouldn’t surprise you if I suddenly sprouted wings?”

  I had to laugh. “Somehow nothing you did would surprise me at this point.”

  She didn’t sprout wings, just turned the question around. “When did you stop believing in guardian angels?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I guess about the same time I stopped believing in Santa Claus and the Easter bunny.”

  “And what do you believe now?”

  I thought about it for a little while, remembering my chat with Lorelei. “I guess I’m beginning to believe I’m my own guardian angel. I just have to trust my instincts and listen to that inner voice that intuitively knows right from wrong. It’s up to me to find my own truth.”

  “So maybe a guardian angel is simply a physical manifestation of your own psyche.”

  “Now you sound like my brother the psychiatrist.” I smiled at how easily the word flowed from my lips. My brother. I knew that no matter what, when I returned home I was going to do whatever it took to find Parker and make him a part of my life. “He’s …”

  I turned, but Maya was gone. I glanced up and down the path. There was no sign of her in either direction. It was as if she’d simply vanished into thin air. I shook my head. I’d never get used to her ability to pop in and out of my life without even stirring a breeze.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe she was simply a manifestation of my own psyche, my inner wisdom.

  I picked up my notebook and began writing. I wrote about life and death and all the choices we make along the way. I wrote about the people we touch and those who touch us. The words flowed effortlessly, as if they’d been stored inside for an eternity and had finally been set free. They danced across the page with gleeful abandon. Arrows snaked between paragraphs, connecting ideas to one another. Doodles and notes adorned the margins.

  Writing my thoughts down helped emphasize the ones that rang true and highlighted those that fell short. I fell into a trance-like state, unaware of the passage of time. When I was finished, I felt purified and whole.

  17

  The next morning I woke refreshed. I’d slept easily and dreamlessly. I ate breakfast with a gusto that even Lorelei commented on.

  “You’re going to get fat if you eat like that all the time,” she warned me.

  “Well, then I’ll be fat and happy, won’t I? No one will say I died regretting that I deprived myself of one last guilty pleasure.”

  She pointed to the plate of mile-high pancakes in front of me. “Did you know … ?”

  I held up my hand to stop her. “If it involves body parts, I don’t want to hear it. I’m enjoying my breakfast, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Lorelei eyed me suspiciously. “You’ve been different lately.”

  “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

  “I guess,” she said.

  It wasn’t a lie. I did feel different. I wasn’t the same person who had been tempted to take her own life. That person was a stranger. I had a new outlook, an acceptance of who I was and who I could be. Wasn’t acceptance one of the four traits I used the swan tattoo to remember?

  “I’m even thinking of getting a tattoo,” I said. I held out my wrist. “Right here.”

  “Really?” I could see the skepticism in Lorelei’s eyes. I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t look like your typical ink enthusiast. “I’m thinking of a swan,” I said.

  “A swan, huh?”

  “Yes, a swan.” I didn’t explain any further. It wasn’t for anyone else to understand or approve. As long as the swan had meaning for me, that was all that mattered.

  “I guess that’s cool,” she said, then changed the subject. “Uncle Bob asked about you.”

  “Oh?” I felt warmth rise to my cheeks and hoped the flush wouldn’t give me away.

  “I told him you were married.”

  “What?”

  She chuckled. “Just kidding. I said you were too good for him, but if he played his cards right, you might just let him take you to dinner.”

  “I might just do that,” I admitted.

  “I have to warn you, though. He’s a bit of a workaholic. That can be a problem.”

  “I know.”

  She frowned. “You know?”

  I finished my pancakes, then carefully peeled a banana, avoiding her gaze. “I mean I know that can be a problem.” I broke off half of the banana and handed it to Lorelei. She bit into it, still watching me with a half frown on her forehead.

  “So,” I said, “I guess that means he’s not married?”

  “Nope. He was engaged once, but that didn’t work out.”

  I felt a stab of jealousy. What if I got back to the real world and found that Bob was already taken? What if I went through all this only to find out that the future I’d glimpsed wasn’t even available? No, I was certain that Bob was waiting to find the right woman, the same way I was waiting for the right man to come along. It would happen. I’d make sure of that.

  Just then I heard the opening chords of “A Thousand Nights,” the song that Bob and I had danced to a lifetime ago. Up until now I hadn’t even noticed the music playing softly over the loudspeakers, but hearing that song again made my chest tighten with longing. Was it coincidence that the song started playing just now or was it a sign?

  I closed my eyes, feeling Bob’s arms a
round me once again as we swayed to the music. Contentment, security, love—those feelings washed over me. If I had the chance to find love again, I knew I wouldn’t take it for granted. I’d treasure every single moment.

  I was so caught up in my fantasy that I almost missed Lorelei’s next comment. “So what was Cassie’s excuse this time?”

  “Huh?” I shook my head, trying to bring myself back to this reality. “Oh, something came up,” I said, avoiding Lorelei’s gaze. I wasn’t sure if Cassie was punishing me for abandoning her or protecting herself in case I tried to take my own life again. I knew Cassie, though. She might be hurt and angry now, but she wouldn’t stay mad for long. Eventually she’d forgive me—even if it wasn’t this me.

  I felt confident that the person who’d written in the journal had learned her lesson and wouldn’t disappoint Cassie again. “She’ll come soon,” I said. “And it’ll be all right.”

  At least I hoped that was the case.

  The thought of making amends with Cassie brought Diane to mind. I’d already vowed to apologize to her when I returned to my real world. But wasn’t I in a timeline where I’d hurt her? She deserved an apology here as well.

  *

  It was another hour before I was able to use the telephone, which gave me plenty of time to worry about what Diane’s reaction might be. What if she hung up on me before I even had a chance to apologize?

  I called the number and waited while the phone rang. My heart sank as I waited for her voice mail to pick up again. Just when I was about to give up, I heard her voice on the line.

  I tried to speak, but nothing came out but a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Diane? This is Jenna. Jenna Hall.”

  Silence.

  “Please don’t hang up,” I begged. “I have to tell you how sorry I am. I know what I did was unforgivable, and I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again, but I am truly sorry for letting you down. I was thoughtless and selfish and maybe a little jealous that you were so happy and I was so miserable. That’s not an excuse but an explanation. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I miss you.”