by JL Rothstein
Hello!” she yelled out. “Who’s there?”
“You know who I am,” the voice answered.
“I don’t actually,” she said as she sluggishly pulled herself up to a sitting position. “Why would I ask who you were, if I knew who you were?”
“You’re just disoriented, it’s perfectly normal,” the voice told her. “Things will clear and begin to make sense shortly.”
Kelly looked around, the floor was polished white tile, but the rest of the space was clouded in fog as far as the eye could see. There was no furniture, no walls, no ceiling, just endless fog. Even more distressing than the appearance of endless emptiness, was that she was alone, no one was visible. So who was speaking?
“Great, I’m not on earth and I’m hearing voices.” Kelly huffed. “I’ve clearly lost my mind.”
“You’re not lost, nor are you crazy,” the voice retorted.
“So, are you the invisible man?” Kelly asked as she managed to get to her feet and shuffle a few steps forward.
“You’ll see me when you’re ready,” the voice answered. “That’s how this works. You’re in control, not me.”
“Fantastic!” Kelly bellowed. “I would like to go home then. Can you make that happen please?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the voice told Kelly.
“What a shock! I was sure simply asking would work.” Kelly could hear the sarcasm dripping from her voice but had no idea how the voice would respond.
“I’m quite certain you’re rarely, if ever, shocked, Ms. O’Mara,” the voice quipped.
Sense of humor, points for the invisible man! Kelly thought.
As she stared at the wall of vapor, she noticed it was shifting. The movement was subtle, like billowing clouds that moved up and away from her as she walked. Once her eyes had fully adjusted to the brightness, she saw black and white lines forming something in the distance. It was as if she were watching an artist sketch a giant mural, each line connecting to another to form a shape. In time, the park she and Gen had visited, the place where night and day met, unfolded before her.
Kelly stopped moving, rooted in place she was captivated, content to simply watch the images arrange themselves into a near perfect rendering. She turned her head to the side, the image stretched out around, behind, and above her. As if she were in some sort of bubble, the depiction remained away from her with the ground beneath her feet still solid tile. As she looked down, she realized she was wearing a long sleeveless white dress with no shoes. Her purple painted toe nails a stark contrast to the colorless surroundings. Kelly’s dress had a delicate lace on the top, with ruffled straps and a lightweight material at the bottom that swung freely when she moved.
“Not my dress,” Kelly remarked. “Perfect fit though.”
“I can’t say if the dress is yours or not, but it would be odd if it weren’t,” the voice told her.
“Hmm, well I probably can’t account for every item of clothing I’ve ever purchased, but I don’t generally wear white,” she commented.
“You’ve never purchased a white dress?” the voice asked.
Actually, I did buy one. Kelly thought, A long time ago for something I can’t quite remember.
“So where are we exactly?” Kelly asked.
“We’ll get to that,” the voice told her. “First, you need to take us to your selected space.”
“Is that some sort of riddle?” Kelly questioned.
“I can help you,” the voice told her.
“Excellent, please do. What is a selected space?” Kelly asked.
“Close your eyes,” the voice instructed. “The image in front of you is where you were last, where the trauma took place. It’s typical to bring that with you when you arrive. But staring at it will only muddle your concentration and keep us from where we are meant to meet. You need to focus on the place that brings real joy, that speaks to your soul like nothing else does.”
“Ok, so you want me to find my happy place?” Kelly asked.
“No. I want you to find your connected place,” the voice told her. “The place where you are not just happy, but where you’re grounded. The place you can go to hear your own thoughts, especially when things are stressful or confusing.”
“That’s where my family is,” Kelly said.
“Yes, but when you need your alone time, where do you go?” the voice prodded. “Take us there.”
Kelly followed the voice’s instructions and closed her eyes. She saw various images running through her mind. There were parks, beaches, her favorite house on the coast in California. She saw a winding path through redwood trees she used to get lost on with Jared, just for the fun of it. There were sunsets and sunrises, scenic vistas, and beautiful memories of vacations long ago past.
Why am I thinking of all these things? Kelly chided herself, I should be thinking of how to get out of here.
Unable to stop her rambling thoughts, Kelly saw each house she and her sisters stayed in, along with the pieces of furniture that always made the trek from place to place bearable. The kitchen table and chairs expertly carved by hand purchased in the early eighteen-hundreds. The wrought iron headboard from her bedroom that Jared designed personally based on a painting she once fell in love with. Various side tables, wooden chests, and antique lamps scattered throughout their house whisked through her mind.
Finally, she settled on the image of the dark wooden desk and accompanying chair in her home office. She had brought the custom desk from house to house for many decades. Thinking of it now, Kelly was reminded of the endless hours of research, reading, and analyzing she had done behind that desk.
As she focused on the makeshift library and all the hours spent behind her favorite desk, Kelly saw the stacks of books littered throughout the room and thought about how many didn’t belong to her.
I really should have been better about returning those, Kelly thought, now those books will be lost to time.
Feeling warmth from the sun Kelly opened her eyes and looked up. Through a stained-glass window she saw a perfect cloudless sky above. Beneath her feet she felt cold marble floors and as she looked left then right, she saw pillars adorned with gold trimmed frescos. Comfort washed over her, a sense of calm soon followed. Hearing no sounds Kelly felt the familiar closeness of narrow bookshelves and smelled the aroma of antiquity with hints of vanilla and almond.
“We’re here,” Kelly said out loud.
“You know where you are?” the voice asked.
“Yes, we’re at the library.”
“Not just any library.”
“No,” Kelly agreed, “The Vatican library is something special, a treasure trove of humanity.”
Kelly took in more of her surroundings, she saw the familiar black-and-white diagonal tile floor running up to meet several walls covered in tapestry and gold. She saw glass cases that held letters and historical artifacts, while others displayed coins and pieces of jewelry. From this vantage point she could see the marble statue from the side entrance. Up ahead the ceiling was arched with a colorful reproduction of the Sistine Chapel. The seemingly endless row of books, letters, archives, music, and manuscripts lined the outer edges of the room that lay sprawled out before her.
Kelly felt there was a peacefulness in the quiet of the empty space, but that was broken when she felt a presence. About halfway down the long row of maple-colored desks she spotted a figure sitting alone, facing away from her. The desk was awash in sunlight as it was one of many aligned with floor-to-ceiling windows that had a perfect view of the Palace courtyard.
“You found me,” the voice said. “Please, come and sit.”
Kelly approached from behind making note of the male’s slightly overweight form, he was dressed in a crisp white shirt and brown pants. His hair was short in length and neatly combed. She passed him on his right, came around the opposite side of the desk, and abruptly halted when her mind registered recognition.
“Gerry?” Kelly asked perplexed.
“No,” he answered “This is how you chose to see me. I assume this man meant something to you or something about him stuck with you.”
Kelly nodded her head as if she understood, but she didn’t, nothing about what was happening seemed normal. She pulled out a chair and sat across from the figure who looked exactly like her charge, Gerry.
“I hope you’re not God,” Kelly said.
The statement garnered a jovial response as the Gerry look-a-like belly laughed.
“Not even close I’m afraid.”
“Good, so there’s still a chance God’s a woman,” Kelly smirked at him.
“I suppose there is,” he responded with a smile of his own.
“So, you’re not Gerry. Who are you then?” Kelly asked. “Why not show your true form?”
“As I’ve already told you, you know who I am,” he said. “You’ll see me, when you’re meant to. Until then, you’ll see what your psyche is willing to accept.”
“This is going to be a really long night if the conversation keeps at this pace,” Kelly retorted.
“I normally send others to do this work,” he began “But, I have to admit, in your case I made an exception. For you, I came personally.”
“I’m honored,” Kelly said “I’m remembering things the longer I’m around you. I’m assuming that’s by design?”
“It’s an unfortunate side effect for those that are restless,” he said. “I’m here to support you while you decide what choice to make.”
“I’m generally distrusting of strangers, especially ones that don’t show their true selves,” Kelly said sarcastically.
“I understand, that’s not an unusual response.” He held his hands out, palms up, one to each side of the room. “Which book will you choose first?”
Kelly looked at the stacks lining both sides of the room, each shelf crammed full of books. Without thinking she stood, walked to her left, and pulled down a book without reading the title listed on the spine. She carried it back to the table and placed it between them.
“Excellent choice,” he told her. “Family is almost always the first choice. I must admit the bond you share with yours is deeply rooted and the envy of many. There is lots of history for you to ponder.”
Kelly looked down and flipped the book open. The papyrus paper crinkled with each turn, its shiny pages blurred and then cleared with each new image of her and her siblings. There were pictures from the current year as well as black and white photos from decades ago. Each image made her smile, some were of long-ago forgotten moments and some from the house they just re-located back to in Boston. She recognized one as being the same photo Deb framed and placed on the mantle above the fireplace in the living room. Gen commented on it before she and Kelly left for their investigation in the park.
“Something bad happened at the park didn’t it?” Kelly asked without looking up.
“All of it will come in time,” he answered.
“Look, I appreciate the kindness and I feel at peace here. Strangely, I’m not anxious about you, or about my circumstance, which is definitely weird. But what is this about?”
“I have been truthful with you, Ms. O’Mara. You have a choice to make, I’m simply here to assist, should you need or want my help.”
“Except, you’re not really assisting and you’re definitely not answering questions,” Kelly told him.
“I cannot answer what you already know,” he told her.
“How many books will I need to review?” Kelly asked.
“Clever,” he said to her smiling. “Three. You are compelled to look at three books.”
Kelly looked around, getting up again she moved to the opposite side of the room and took her time perusing the aisles. Walking up and down each row, she picked up and returned several books before she came to one that seemed familiar, as if she had once held it. Bringing it back to the table she flipped it open and was startled at the depiction staring back at her.
The oil on canvas painting was of Jared, he was running, a Hellion chasing after him. The beast loomed large at his back, nearly two feet taller with paws for hands and claws that stretched to nearly reach his neck. She didn’t remember anything about an encounter between Jared and a Hellion, it should have been hard to forget.
She flipped to the next scene, across both pages was a pencil drawing of herself, she was tied to a stone slab, demons hovering all around her. The artist didn’t detail her face, but she saw the reflection of her anchor as her mark glowed brightly on her back. The only color on the page was of wounds across her body. Liquid cascading down from the table and onto the floor formed large pools. The bright red color was effectively used to portray blood and put the viewer studying the artwork on edge. It worked, Kelly was disturbed by the imagery.
As she continued to flip through the book, depictions of caves and prison cells came to life. Demons and Hellions dotted the pages with fervor, all in gory and horrific detail. Kelly had never seen anything like it, she’d never been anywhere that resembled that setting, but something inside gnawed at her.
I couldn’t have been there, she told herself. I would have remembered a place like that.
Turning the last page, the left side was fire, the red orange glow of flame danced up the page. The artist even managed to make the paper itself appear singed at the outer edges, as if it too had once been on fire. The page to the right was darkness, not black, but eerily charcoal, with images of demons and beasts looming in the background. Everything inside of her was screaming to shut it all out, to get away.
Close the book, she told herself. This isn’t real, he’s just trying to get in your head, just close the damn book.
The images were frightening, but she couldn’t stop staring at them. The idea that Jared was in trouble, on top of the pictures of demons and Hellions attacking, was all too much.
She slammed the book shut and pushed it toward the figure sitting across from her. She hadn’t realized that she was crying. She swiped at her face and inhaled deeply trying to pull herself together. Locking eyes with the Gerry look-a-like Kelly heard him sniffle and cough to clear his throat as if he were emotionally distraught at what he saw.
“One left?” Kelly asked.
“Yes,” he said to her.
“Then what?” she asked.
“Then you decide.”
Kelly got up from the table and wandered around the first floor of the library. No matter how many turns she made, she came back to the same section they were sitting in. She tried walking upstairs, around corners, then downstairs, all to no avail. She made her way through the restoration entrance and even the restroom, but it was all the same. In the end, no matter which aisle, door, or staircase she took, all of them returned her to the section of tables with the Gerry look-a-like.
I can’t get out! Kelly screamed. Oh God, I can’t get out of here. What am I going to do? I need to get home, I need to get back to my family, to Jared.
Something inside her told her this was an ending of sorts. There was still confusion, but bits and pieces of her time in the park with Genevieve had been coming back to her as she circled the library halls.
She remembered running into a demon on the dark side of the park. They fought. Kelly had the overwhelming sense she lost more than just a fight. Returning to the table without a book, she sat down across from the chaperone she seemed unable to shake.
“Alright, I can’t pick, and I apparently can’t leave,” Kelly said.
“Would you like me to assist?” he asked.
Without saying anything Kelly nodded her head up and down.
“Close your eyes and picture someone or something that means more than anything else does!” He said emphatically, “Don’t think about it, just do it!”
Almost without wanting to she closed her eyes and saw Jared and her siblings. Images of Jared flashed before her without any sort of order. She pictured him laughing, heard his voice, felt his lips touch hers. Something inside of her shifted and broke. Ke
lly felt anxious and irritated for the first time since arriving, but more than that, she felt longing. She yearned for more of everything.
I need more time, she thought. I need to see my family, I need a chance with Jared. There’s too much left and said that’s undone.
“Ah. I see you’ve made a decision,” he said to Kelly.
Opening her eyes, she saw a singular book on the desk, the other two she had brought over to the table were now gone. The one that lay before her was beautiful, with a calligraphy pattern across the cover, a thick black backside, and silver trim running along the outer edge.
She moved her arm but stopped when she saw the ring on her left hand. The one Jared had slipped on her finger the night of the fire. The diamond cut silver band caught her eye when it sparkled in the sunlight. The design etched into the ring looked remarkably like the calligraphy pattern on the book laid out before her.
“I open the book, I go back,” she said in almost a whisper.
“Yes,” he answered.
“There’s no pain here, no loss. One should be at peace here,” she told him.
“Yes. They should be, if they are meant to stay.”
“I know who you are,” she told him.
“You’ve known the entire time,” he replied.
“Will I remember this?” she asked.
“Most don’t, and if they do it’s fragmented images. But, you O’Mara’s, you’re different.”
“I don’t know if I want to remember.” Kelly pointed at the shelf she had picked the second book up from. “That book, I don’t remember anything about it, something yet to happen? Or is it something from my past I can’t remember?”
“Your story is not for me to tell, it’s yours and yours alone, Ms. O’Mara.”
“You’re politer than we give you credit for,” Kelly said to him. “Not to mention this form makes a lot more sense than the typical Halloween costume.”
“Thank you, Ms. O’Mara. It was a real pleasure meeting you,” he said with a wink. “I can’t imagine carrying a scythe around for all eternity anyway, it’s just plain silly.”