Portals

by Amy Simone

  “I haven’t been to the zoo in a long time.”

  “If the lady wants the zoo, then we’ll go there. It has all that nice bamboo and sitting areas.”

  As they drove, Cassie’s curiosity grew. Why would Bob not want to talk about this one thing? He seemed comfortable talking about everything else—dog training, kids, food.

  He took her hand as they walked towards the ticket window. Soon they walked along the thickly wooded trails of the Lafayette Zoo, taking in the calls of various animals.

  “Kind of cool here in all this shade? Why don’t we sit here?” he suggested, pointing to a wooden bench tucked in a notch in the trail.

  “Do you come here a lot?” she asked.

  “I’ve brought some of my students here. Now get comfortable.”

  She sat down, crossed on leg under her seat and settled against the bench. “I’m ready,” she announced.

  Dappled sun fell across them. To an outsider they appeared as a compatible couple. She was not sure how she felt about this man at this point—he seemed to have secrets. This concerned her.

  “Hold on,” he started. “We’ve been married before.”

  “What? No way!” she stiffened.

  “I’m not kidding, Cassie. Your name was Timmie back then. We called you that back in Ireland.”

  “I don’t believe you.” She slammed both her feet to the ground and now sat planted rigidly on the bench, becoming statute-like. Bob saw how she held both of her fists tightly on top of her kneecaps.

  He tenderly pushed the hair off the side of her neck. “It’s true.”

  She laughed. “You are something else,” she blurted out.

  “We got separated. You died in childbirth.”

  “Now that‘s a lie!” His words seemed to come from somewhere else. Surely the man sitting next to her wasn’t admitting to all this rubbish.

  “You don’t remember me? You really don’t?” He looked worried, as if he was trying to will her into all this nonsense.

  “You have no proof. I have no memory. Sounds like BS,” she argued. She got up to leave. Bob restrained her by tapping her arm.

  “Sit for a moment. Listen,” he urged. “I need to tell you what happened.”

  “I’d rather go home,” she said. “Let’s leave.”

  Bob noticed other zoo visitors were looking at them. She strode out towards the parking lot.

  “Don’t be like this,” he pleaded as he followed her.

  “You’re nuts. I’ve been through too much with all this…” She made a huge sweeping motion with her arm. “I want to forget about all of it. I’m done. I give up. Open the door. You will drive me back. Now.

  Reluctantly he hit the door locks, and they climbed in.

  “You won’t listen, will you?”

  “Turn on the radio,” she told him. “Not another word. No more crazy talk.”

  He drove the truck onto the street and headed back. “Cassie,” he began, “we have been through a helluva lot together. You saved me the other night, remember?”

  She let out a loud groan. “If only I liked to drink! I could forget about all this. I just want my tiny life back! Normal. Tiny. Life.”

  He reached over, tried to touch her shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me!” she yelped turning away. “I’m done. I don’t care if I ever see another damn computer again!”

  “You sound scared.”

  “I have kids. You don’t. You can afford to be crazy! All you have is that one dog.”

  “Don’t forget the horses.”

  “Whatever!” She was breathing fast. No longer was any of this fun. Bob trying to convince her she was a reincarnation of herself was the final breaking point. Seeing visions, being trapped, going places she never wanted to be in the first place—all of it was too much for her to stand now. She wanted out, and she wanted to leave. Cassie saw him as a continuation of more of this new nutty alternative world. She couldn’t live like this anymore. The unpredictability and weirdness had finally taken its toll. She tapped her foot anxiously. In her opinion he couldn’t drive fast enough to get her back to her own car.

  49

  Submittal

  “Hurry up,” she sputtered.

  “I’m driving the speed limit. Don’t care if you like it or not.”

  At last, they turned into his yard. She prepared to jump out. Her anger had only escalated.

  “I’m not letting you out of this truck ‘til you calm down,” he told her. “You don’t need to drive off from here in the state you’re in right now.”

  Cassie glared at him. True to his word, he’d pressed the child safety locks.

  “I understand you not liking what all you’ve been through,” he told her quietly.

  “That’s right. How am I going to raise my boys when I am half insane with all this crap going on around me?” She’d been crying or close to it, her eyes were red-rimmed.

  “Aw, Cassie.” He didn’t dare move towards her. He’d stuck his truck in idle and left the AC on. He hoped he could get her to see that all was not bad or black or even white. He could tell that if he made a false move, she’d react badly, so he didn’t move at all. It was moments like this that reminded him of those times in his life when he didn‘t know if he’d make it from one to the next. They happened when he’d been walking the bomb-laden Middle Eastern streets. He’d had them happen when working with difficult horses that needed retraining. These moments occurred during times of intense fear. What worked was to sit with it, to be present, to wait it out.

  “How are you feeling?” he said after a short while. She stared out of the windshield.

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sick to my stomach,” she answered.

  “Now that’s no good. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Well, it is upsetting. At first I liked the newness but then it got so twisted.” She rubbed her abdomen, then stroked her throat. “It’s been horrific—some worse stuff I’ve ever been through. My dad’s death was nothing compared to all this.”

  Bob took in a sharp breath. “Let’s back up, huh? Consider this—the Coach is okay now, you’re okay. I’m alive. Bruce is off doing Bruce things. Those witches—well who knows what they’re up to.”

  “I tripped the wire with Romilda,” Cassie replied.

  “Look, you started nothing. Those beings and those folks who stole your computer… they had all that in them from the beginning.” Bob took his keys out of the ignition. “Are you ready to get out now and not drive a million miles an hour to get home?”

  “Yes,” she admitted through clenched teeth.

  “I will release the doors and we will calmly and slowly get out of this truck, you hear?”

  “Yes. Okay.”

  “One, two, three.” He clicked the door locks. Cassie stepped out of the cab. Whomper walked up and greeted them.

  “Hello old boy.” Bob reached down and scratched his dog behind his ears.

  Cassie rested her back against the door, then slid so she was sitting on the truck’s running board. “I’m sorry, Bob. This has just all been too much.” She put her head in her hands.

  He knelt in front of her. “I know. I saw some terrible things, too. In real life and on the other side.” He stroked the back of her head. “Sure you don’t want to sit on my porch for a few before you drive off into the sunset?”

  Cassie sat up. “Maybe,” she said. “As long as you don’t talk about that Timmie shit.”

  “I won’t. Promise. Timmie.” He grinned and leapt back. “Just teasing. I’ll quit.”

  Cassie felt physically weak. Her entire world had changed, and she really had nobody to share it with except Bob. Was he even real, she wondered, or was he one of them?

  “Take off your shoes,” Bob told her. “Put your feet up. I will make us both a stiff drink.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I know that’s not your usual poison, but trust me, it’ll take the edge off.”
r />   “Then I’ll get a DWI going home, right?”

  “Just sip it slow. I think it might be good for what is troubling you. You are an awfully wound up sort of gal.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. I’ve been around too many different people. You can’t fool me. Now just sit here. I will check on the horses and you can watch the world.”

  He returned with a Coke and some ice. “You add what you want of this,” he suggested, offering her a choice of rum or bourbon. “I’ll set these bottles right here. Be back in a few minutes. You can watch me fill up some water buckets. Exciting, huh?”

  Her weariness caught up with her. The entire sequence of events washed over her, taking her into an undertow of sorts. Whomper curled up near her. She moved one leg and pet him with her foot.

  Bob stepped headed for the stalls ringing the arena. She heard him greet each of the horses by name.

  “How’s Puck and his momma?” she called out. Her voice echoed through the empty indoor arena.

  “She’s recovering nicely. Your husband handled everything super nice.” The water from the hose he pulled along made a splashing sound as he filled a stall bucket.

  “I’m so glad.” She repeated that once more to herself, then tipped her chin up and looked at the ceiling fan. She took a few sips of her drink and stopped to look at Bob who sat on the step now pulling off his boots.

  “God this feels good,” he told her, rubbing his feet. He sat up against the railing with his legs out in front of him and crossed. His faded jeans as usual were powdered with dust and sand.

  A few minutes passed. Neither one of them said anything.

  “You’re being quiet,” Bob prodded.

  “I’m thinking,” she admitted.

  “And?”

  “I still don’t understand…”

  “Hush,” he told her. “Just listen to the outside.”

  50

  Quietude

  Cassie did what Bob suggested and just sat there with him. They heard many things—nearby birds and insects and the horses moving about in the barn. A boarder arrived and greeted them as he walked out to get his horse from a field.

  “Want help me feed,” Bob asked.

  “Sure.”

  Darkness was imminent.

  Whomper rode in between them. As they made their way along the fence line to feed the outside horses, he cleared his throat. Over the sound of the four-wheeler he said, “I’d like it if you would spend the night with me, Cassie.”

  “With no funny stuff?”

  “No funny stuff.”

  “Maybe,” she said.

  He turned to her. “What’s with this maybe stuff? Don’t you like me?”

  She looked him up and down—at his toned chest and flat loins, then into his caramel-colored brown eyes. “Only because you’re into horses,” she told him.

  “You will regret saying that,” he laughed. “I’ll show you.” He leaned over the dog, pecked her on the cheek, then took her face in his hands and kissed her fully on the mouth.

  She felt an old feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time. Ralph hadn’t kissed her like that anymore after the boys were born. Both of them had gotten too worn out and self absorbed. Now here was a man interested in her again. She keenly knew that it‘d been a long time since she’d felt wanted by a man.

  Bob sat back, smiled. He put the vehicle into gear and moved it down to the next horse pen. “Only three more to go,” he warned.

  She sat quietly while watching him throw several flakes of hay over the fence. The horses all knew he was coming. They hung their heads over the top rail, nickering. Some corrals held multiple horses. In those Cassie saw small clouds of dust swirl as the horses twirled around each other jockeying for position to get to the hay first.

  “I have to play fair and space this stuff out,” he said tossing portions of the bale first into one corner, then the other. “Some of these guys are pretty territorial.”

  They headed to his cabin.

  The sickness she’d felt earlier in his parking lot had gone away. The mixed drink had eased her stomach.

  “You know what I will say, don’t you?” he asked as they walked back in.

  “No.”

  “We need a shower. But first let me undress you.”

  “I must admit, I’m dirty,” she agreed.

  It wasn’t until later that she asked him about the scars on his chest.

  “These are nothing,” he replied after explaining their history. “I’d rather take a barbed wire fence than see combat anytime.”

  Slipping into the sanctity of his bed made her feel as though she’d landed in one of the most luxurious resorts. His attention to her body had her mentally floating away. He proved to be an excellent lover.

  Afterwards she propped herself up on one elbow. “What’s your favorite thing?” she asked.

  “The quiet,” he told her.

  In the light that came from the living room, she could see his face. He looked so serious when he answered her like that.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I like things to be real quiet,” he said. “Guess it’s my PTSD. It’s sort of like what you experienced today… a meltdown of sorts. Except I’ve been through too many. I just like things real quiet.”

  “That’s odd. You teach children. They’re not quiet.”

  “They’re plenty quiet,” Bob countered. “Watch. When they focus, they say nothing. I catch them being quiet all the time when I’ve got them listening during a lesson.”

  “Hmm. I suppose you’re right.”

  “I like it when you’re quiet,” he told her, then gathered her closer to his chest. “Means you’re calm and relaxed…”

  She sighed.

  “… and balanced,” he finished.

  “Kind of funny way to put it.”

  “I’m a funny guy.” He pressed on her upper arm. “I’m getting hungry. Let’s see what we can find in this place.”

  “What’s your future look like,“ he asked as he fixed dinner.

  “My mom’s moving to Colorado because she’s remarrying. She’s letting us stay in her house but it‘s on the market. After that, probably rent something,“ she said.

  “I’m looking for a barn manager,” he told her. “I have to travel a lot soon with the clinic schedule. Why don’t you take the guest cabin and come work for me?”

  “What happens if our arrangement doesn‘t work out?” she asked.

  “Meaning?”

  “I’m bonking the boss and something happens and then I’m out on the street with my boys. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Plus my boys…”

  “Bonking the boss? I like the sound of it.” He grinned and got up to get some plates.

  “Bob, I’m serious. We barely know each other.”

  He put a finger to her lips. “Shh.”

  She took his hand and moved it away. “I mean really. That would unsettle the boys.”

  “They exist with your ex and his girlfriend, if that‘s what you’re getting at.”

  “I’m the woman in all this.”

  “You won‘t look chaste, huh?” he asked, still smiling.

  “Exactly.”

  “They’d learn stuff here—the horses and all—hat you don’t learn in school.”

  “I’d have to keep Josh under lock and key.”

  “We’d have to teach him how to be safe around horses. It’s called discipline. Training, Cassie.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Listen to you lecture.”

  “I know a lot about little boys. I used to be one, remember?” He got up and ran a hand down her robe and cupped a breast. “Our dinner is almost done.” He kissed the back of her neck. “We need nourishment if we are to continue.”

  51

  Bad Meditation

  The next morning, as Bob and Cassie fed the horses, she got a phone call. It was Ralph.

  “Listen, we have a situation here,” he began. I had to rush Caleb to the ER at
the hospital.”

  “Why?”

  “He started throwing up blood last night. Susan and I have Josh and we’re here now. They’re running tests.”

  “I’m coming!”

  Cassie walked through the emergency room doors and located Caleb‘s room.

  Her son looked pale and drained, and so tiny.

  “It beats the hell out of me,” Ralph told her, standing to give her a chair.

  Cassie nodded to the nurse and Susan, then picked up Josh and kissed him. There were so many tubes attached to Caleb. She barely had room to clasp his hand and gently squeeze.

  “I’m here, Caleb,” she whispered into his ear. Her son barely opened his eyes, looked up at her and then closed them again. She knew he was nervous though because he’d grabbed a wrinkle of his blanket and was rhythmically working it with the fingers of his left hand.

  “He’s sedated,” Ralph told her.

  “What happened?”

  “Last night the boys had just had dinner and then Caleb coughed. It wouldn’t stop. Susan rubbed his back, and that helped for a while. This morning he started up again and then the blood.”