by Dale Mayer
Samson sighed. He sat in his chair and stared out the window, watching the two dogs walk toward him, their ears up, their faces locked on his, even though they were outside looking in the window. He knew they understood his torment. He knew they were affected by it and were coming back to see if they could do anything.
It’s all right, guys, he said mentally.
As they reached the side door, they both spun, their faces twisting in massive snarls, and he could hear their growling.
It was happening again. Ripples in the atmosphere—light up above but, as he now knew, violence down below.
He opened the side door exit from his office and called to them, “King, Queen. Come in now.”
But both were caught up in the turmoil around them. Trees whipped, wind turned, spray splashed.
He ran down toward them, putting a hand on each of their collars. “Easy, guys. Take it easy.”
He could feel King trembling under his hand, but Queen was in full alert mode—her haunches thick, her hair raising, her jaw out and snarling.
“I don’t know what it is this time,” he said, “but come on. Let’s go back in the house.”
The trouble was, he wanted to believe the house was safe, but the dogs knew better. Nothing was safe from this.
And, just like that, it calmed down. The wind stopped, but Queen’s back was still up, and then she whimpered, turned her head into his hand, looking for the caress she knew would be there for her.
He crouched between them, an arm over their shoulders and whispered, “I know it’s a strange world out here right now.” He led them both to the big porch, throwing open the front doors to see Whimsy watching him.
Fear and concern were in her gaze as she looked at the dogs. “What was that?” she asked, her voice harsh.
“You don’t want to know,” he said. “You need to leave this island and never come back.” He took the dogs with him as he walked into his lab and shut and locked the door.
At his computer, he dropped into his chair and put his head in his hands. He shouldn’t have taken the easy way out. But to stay and give an explanation of something unexplainable? He knew this was an energy-balance thing, but how did it all become unbalanced, and how was he supposed to make it all balanced again? And had he done this?
He couldn’t think how or why. He understood Jamie had found a magical world out of his body—and, God, didn’t that just blow Samson away. Still, he’d been coming to terms with it over the last few years. Jamie could call out to Samson in his mind, could scream at him to help someone—like when Whimsy was on the beach.
And that was when Jamie felt like communicating. Often he heard nothing but Jamie’s whining. And that was mean too.
“You could tell her more, you know.”
Samson couldn’t stop the instinctive sagging of his shoulders. “And what do I tell her?” he asked, turning around. Only his room was empty. He frowned. “I can hear you, Stefan, but can’t see you.”
“I’m here. You were sending out some major signals, and Jamie’s sending out even more.”
“I’m coming to see him. We’ll leave in the morning.”
“Good. And what about Whimsy?”
Samson leaned back and stared out the window. He could see Whimsy walking along the porch. “What about her?”
“It could be dangerous for her to go back.”
“It’s definitely an issue. But she’s hiding out here. That’s no way to live. She needs to find out what’s going on at home, then move on.”
“And get killed in the process?”
“No,” he snapped. Then, realizing he was half standing, he sagged back down. “I won’t let that happen.”
A warm chuckle rolled over Samson. “So you do care?”
“How can I not? She’s special.”
“She is, indeed. You might want to consider asking her more questions about her sister.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s special. Connected.”
“In what way?”
“In water ways.” Stefan chuckled again. “Stay close to her.”
Samson nodded, but inside he worried they were doing the wrong thing. She’d been shot out on the water. He wished he understood the motive behind that. It would help to know if she was still in danger. For the moment he’d assume yes. And, therefore, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.
Chapter 11
“Let’s go. The day is wasting.”
Forcing herself, even when it broke her heart, she got onto the boat, staring up at the island hills behind her. The motor putted gently as Samson pulled away from the dock. King and Queen sat on the cliffs, watching them leave. She couldn’t focus on anything else—Samson had left them at home. So he planned to return soon. Unfortunately, most likely without Whimsy. A deep sadness was inside her. A part of her would always feel like she belonged here.
Had been reborn here.
She had no camera, no way to take pictures. She didn’t even have a way to take a picture of Samson himself. And she owed that man so much. But now that she did, did she want her growing feelings to have anything to do with the gratitude she knew was wrapped around her heart? He’d given her a second chance at life. Was it her fault she felt like she needed to do something better with it?
Samson was also right about something else. She did need to go home. She was caught between two worlds. A small part of her wanted to go home, where it was safe and quiet, where she could forget all this craziness. But another part of her knew no way would she ever forget anything about this island.
She belonged to the island that even now grew smaller and smaller in the distance. She had no doubt it was dangerous there. She also had no doubt it was something she needed to learn more about. It just wouldn’t happen right now.
She looked at Samson. “I don’t like to leave the dogs.”
“I take them sometimes,” he said. “They don’t like it. They’re overwhelmed with the noise and the stress. It’s much better that they stay and wait for me to come back.”
“What if you don’t come back?”
“They have lots of water and food,” he said. “My staff knows they are here. They’d look after them.”
“That’s not the same thing as having companionship,” she snapped. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much. It was as if he treated his pets like they were wild. And they weren’t. But they were very connected to that place, and she didn’t understand that either. Both dogs sat on the peak, side by side, watching the boat as it slowly channeled across the open water.
She had to admit it had been hard to get on the boat for a couple reasons. This was the first time she’d been on the water since she’d woken up on the beach. And now, it was hard for her to look out at the water and enjoy it. It used to be the place she would go, just to find some peace and calm at the end of a heavy day of sessions and exams. She would find herself walking on the beach, needing to be beside the water, needing her toes to touch the sand or her fingers, something. Just for that communion, that connection. And now she hated to say it, but she was almost terrified.
From behind her, Samson asked, “Are you okay?”
She stiffened and then relaxed. She turned to give him a wry smile. “I am. It’s just the first time I’m on the water in a boat since I drowned.”
“Understandable. You went through a terrifying and painful ordeal. So there is always fear it might happen again, and you might not survive a second time.”
“Yes,” she whispered, “it was frightening. And I certainly don’t want to go through it again.”
“Do you want a life jacket?” he asked. “They’re right here.”
“I should,” she said. “But it didn’t save me the last time.”
“You can have all the best equipment in the world,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean it can’t fail.”
Still, she reached out, put the life jacket around her shoulders and buckled it. She sat down in the front seat while he piloted
the speedboat across the channel. “How long a trip is it?”
“A couple hours,” he said. “The faster we go, the shorter the time.”
Whimsy looked around at the clouds and the storminess. “It’s really crappy weather. Are you sure we should have left today?”
“Yes,” he said. “Too often it doesn’t get any better.”
“Is this your only way on and off the island?”
He just shrugged.
She contemplated that and realized it was probably the easiest way. “When are you going back?”
“In a couple days, depending on my brother. A friend will be over soon afterward too.”
“Understood,” she said. “Are you going to give me your contact information so I can reach you when I’m on the mainland?” She watched him look at her, a question in his eyes.
“Are you sure you want to?”
“You know I feel strongly about coming back.”
“First, go live your real life,” he said. “At least for a few days. Until you get past the confusion of being back home again. You have to be home longer than you were on the island, just to help yourself rebalance.”
She didn’t say anything, wondering if he was right.
“I’d lose my ride back to the island if I did that,” she said lightly. “And I’m serious. I do want to come back.”
“You might want to,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”
She rose, standing beside him. Trying to get her sea legs, she reached out to hang on to the dash then shifted to hold the handle on the side of the boat as she peered through the windshield. “This isn’t a terribly comfortable ride, is it?”
“No,” he said. “I always find the sea is very angry when I leave. It’s like the forces gathered are trying to hold me back.”
“It’s always like this?”
He nodded. “Always.”
“And on the way back?”
He shrugged. “The island wants me back. So the trip seems to take half the time, and it’s always nicer weather.”
She laughed at that. “How can there be something so absolutely supernatural about all this? Any other island in this sound probably would have a completely different scenario attached to it.”
“Probably,” he said. “But this one definitely has something odd going on. At first I thought it was connected to my brother. But now I think my brother connected himself to it.”
“That’s a fine distinction,” she said, slowly understanding how that could come about. “I still think you should bring him back.”
“Dr. Maddy went to see him,” he said. “He’s on the mend. She’s taking him off a lot of his medications, and she did a couple things to him that I don’t really understand. I’ll ask her about it when I get a chance. But apparently, he has calmed down quite a bit.”
“Wow,” she said. “Makes me wish I could have gotten Dr. Maddy to look at my sister. Now, of course, it’s too late.”
“Life is like that,” he said. “I wouldn’t be dealing with Dr. Maddy if it wasn’t for Stefan.”
“How did you meet him?”
“He just appeared one day.”
“This weird glowing figure just showed up one day at your island office?” she cried out.
He shook his head. “No. He called me first, told me how he had various insights into the craziness here, and he wanted to work with me. I told him to go away.” He laughed. “I told him that I didn’t need any more nutcases. I was already surrounded by enough. I’d had a very frustrating day with my brother, who was newly disassociated or disembodied from his physical form.” His tone was wry. “I didn’t want any more people who couldn’t talk English the way I needed them to.”
She chuckled at that. “I don’t imagine too many people tell Stefan no.”
“When you get back to your apartment,” he said, “you should look him up. I did, and I couldn’t believe what I found. Apparently, he’s a famous artist and a psychic. He works very closely with various law enforcement offices all across the country. He’s responsible for putting a lot of serial killers behind bars. When I asked him about it, he said an awful lot of serial killers no longer had physical forms too.”
“No physical form?” She stared at Samson, her eyes huge. “That is guaranteed to make me not sleep again.”
“Right?” he said with a smile. “This field is a whole new world. And it’s not always nice.”
“There’s nothing nice about serial killers in spirit form.”
“According to Stefan, they can attach themselves to certain people, using them to commit their deeds, and sometimes they don’t even need that.” He marveled at a world so crazy that they only knew this little bit.
“They say we only utilize a very small portion of our brain. And, if that’s true, then possibly we’re only living a very small portion of what’s available in life.”
“Now that is a great statement.” He looked at her with respect. “Not too many people get that connection. I think, from what I’m seeing and learning, so much more is going on around us that we don’t see. Back there on the island, for whatever reason, the veil between what we can see normally and what else we might be able to see, if the veil wasn’t there, is thinner. And I know I’m not explaining that very well, but I think that’s why the animals pick up stuff so clearly. A lot more energy is there.”
“You’re saying that a veil between this world and another, or a veil between this world and a spirit world or something like that, is thinner, so the dogs are catching the sense, the sounds, the smells of what’s going on, on the other side?” she asked. “Just the thought, wow. And yet it makes a crazy kind of sense.”
“I don’t know, but it’s like the veil between what we can see and what we normally can’t see is thinner there, and the dogs see what we can’t.”
“And the wind, the trees and the physical reactions we’re seeing out there, do you think that’s because of that thin veil?” She couldn’t help herself. She turned to look back at the island. It was only a distant shore now. “You realize what an absolutely incredible place it is, right?”
“I know,” he said. “I also know how incredibly dangerous it is. I can’t have strangers come and get caught up in the turbulence.”
“Turbulence is a good word for it. You said it’s like grinding energies, just like the grinding plates. Maybe each plate brings a different energy to the game,” she said. “And, when they grind together, like they often do, maybe something new is created.”
He looked at her and smiled.
She gave a clipped nod. “Something like what you’re working on, isn’t it? The mammals are very important to your work, but you’re also wondering if they can pick up this other energy.”
“We all know energy never dies,” he said. “It just changes form. And think about all the energy created when those plates shift. What happens to that energy? Is it heat? Is it flame? Is it lava? What form does it come out as?”
“Oh, wow,” she said softly. “I never thought about that.”
“Of course not,” he said, “because, prior to arriving on the island, you could only see and understand what everybody else does. But, at the island, something is very different. I don’t quite understand what I’m seeing. I don’t understand how it fits in, but something else is going on in that space.”
“I wonder if it’s something similar to the Bermuda Triangle?” she said in contemplation. “We all know something weird is going on there. Most say there isn’t, but then the rest say there is.”
“It’s possible,” he said. “The last thing I want is for the island to be labeled in such a way though. I know an awful lot of valuable research has to be done. And apparently, only a few of us can do the work. I’ve had people on the island who never once saw the wind the way you did or saw how the dogs react to the other influences. They don’t have the sensitivity to pick it up. They found the island boring.” He laughed. “And those are the people I know not to bring
back again. But, at the same time, for anybody supremely high-strung, like my brother, it’s not necessarily a good place for them either.”
“He’d be a lightning rod for all the energy there, wouldn’t he?” She wondered if she shouldn’t have encouraged Samson to bring his brother back here. At the time all she could think about was how healing the island energy was and how it had to help Jamie find some form of peace. But what if it didn’t? What if all it did was add to his spiritual pain and confusion?
She crossed her arms, contemplating. “The problem is, there are no answers,” she said quietly. “All we can do is offer conjecture.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I think there are answers. I think I’m close to getting some. I’m just not sure I’ll ever get all the answers I need in order to solve this.”
“But you intend to try, don’t you?”
“Not only do mammal-traveling patterns have a huge effect on humans,” he said, “but their early warning system is also massive. So that’s just one aspect. But something else is going on here. And the mammals are affected too. But in a very different way, just like the dogs.”
“That day I saw you out there,” she said, “you had a net. What were you trying to catch?”
“Honestly, I was trying to catch a fish.” He chuckled.
She shook her head. “Not in any normal way, you weren’t. You had no fishing rod. So what was it exactly you were trying to do?”
His lips quirked.
An act she was starting to find very endearing. But his stubbornness, not so much.
“Oh, I was fishing,” he said, “but I wasn’t forcing the fish by catching them on a hook. I was asking them.”
“Let me get this straight,” she said. “You were asking them to jump up and die?”
He gave a big laugh. “No, I was asking them to jump into the net so that I might catch them.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why would they?”
“To communicate,” he said. “That’s why I was doing it. Why they would jump into the net? Well, I guess there wasn’t a good reason. Because I never caught any. Remember?”