Sarah opened to him, awaited his entry.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“I’m not—“ She tried to find a way to tell him she wasn’t on the Pill anymore. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about birth control. She wondered if it even mattered with him. Nathan was dead. She didn’t suppose it mattered. Safe sex shouldn’t be a concern. “I don’t have anything with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“A condom.”
He seemed confused.
“I don’t want to get pregnant.”
Amusement returned in his eyes. “I’m dead, remember?”
“I don’t want to take any chances.”
He kissed her. It was slow and deep and deliberate. “I’ll pull out…before.” His voice was strained. “All right?”
She nodded.
He positioned himself above her and slide into her as if she were made of glass. He moved slowly, entering only halfway then removing himself almost entirely, entering again. His movements were rhythmic, calculated, almost painful judging by the expression on his face. This wasn’t all about him. For the first time in her life, someone was thinking of her pleasure. That was nothing what she was used to.
Slowness built quickly. He entered her fully now. His rhythm was intense, driving, building. She arched her hips to him, driving him further into her. . She was the first to climax. It was primal, powerful, and she was helpless to stop herself from crying out. She was just coming down when she felt him stiffen. He quickly slid out of her, shuddered, then settled next to her.
He didn’t forget.
He buried his face in her neck. His breath was heavy and warm. “Thank you.”
Thank you?
Sarah couldn’t help but laugh. Art had told her to stop talking, to go to sleep, even that she needed to drop a few pounds. No one had ever thanked her.
Nathan leaned up on his elbows. “Do you have any idea what laughing does to my pride?”
Sarah couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, it’s just…No one ever thanked me.”
“Is that not a good thing to say?”
Sarah pulled him back down to her and hugged him.
Nathan leaned back on his elbows. He stared at her, his gaze intense, as if he were studying her. “Why are you staring?”
“I’m just looking.”
“Why?”
“Haven’t you ever had anyone just look at you?”
It was either the softness in his voice or the intense gentleness in his eyes, but Sarah couldn’t help the tears. No one had ever looked at her. Sometimes it felt as if she were in a roomful of people and no one was even noticing her. Nathan’s voice, his eyes, they told her she was someone and that she did matter.
She never felt that she mattered before.
Nathan wrapped his arms around her and she crumbled in his arms.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why do you cry?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, it isn’t that—I don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
“I think…” It wasn’t possible, was it? “I think I’m falling for you.”
Nathan frowned.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why?”
“Because…” She didn’t have the words. She wondered if she was scaring him off.
“Are you saying you love me?”
Sarah didn’t know. She thought she loved him. If she didn’t, it was certainly something close to love.
He seemed to understand her apprehension. He held her again and kissed the top of her head. “You don’t need to explain anything to me.”
Silence grew between them. Nathan lay his head down and pulled her into his arms. She was almost asleep when he gently nudged her shoulder.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“You did.” She yawned. “You brought me here, remember?”
“That was your idea.” He kissed her earlobe. “I want to take you somewhere else.”
When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Do you trust me?”
“I trust you.”
He rolled onto his back, pulling her atop him. He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose then firmly smacked her on the backside. “Then get dressed.”
They dressed quickly. When they were finished, Sarah moved close to Nathan. He grasped her hands. “Look at me, and don’t look away.”
Sarah looked into his eyes. She instantly saw herself in them. It was more than herself. It was everything and everyone she had ever known in her life. She saw herself as a child, the little house her parents had lived in on Butternut Street. She saw the grade school she’d attended, the bully, Tim Fargo, who pulled her braids during recess. The Yearbook Club in her high school. Then her wedding followed by her miscarriage and divorce. She saw her bookstore and her various meetings with her accountant and her lawyer. She saw herself and Nathan in the diner, saw them standing here in this cabin atop French Mountain.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was as if Earth had opened up. Sarah felt the world leave her feet. She tried to look down, but it was as if she was on a carnival ride. She was unable to move her neck, unable to tear her gaze from Nathan’s.
She concentrated on her peripheral vision, tried to see something, but they were moving too fast. She couldn’t look away. As much as she tried, she was helpless.
Day turned to night and the speed at which they traveled gradually slowed. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the moon and stars, then something which may have been a comet whipped by them.
They landed in total darkness. She was finally able to break her gaze from Nathan’s.
“W-what just happened here?”
Nathan put a protective arm around her shoulder. “Shh…try not to be scared.”
“Where are we?”
“I’m not sure.”
A tiny light appeared in front of them. It was a speck no larger than the size of a nickel. It was pulsing and growing larger with each second.
Fear grew steady within her. She gripped Nathan’s arms, tried to remain calm, but it was almost impossible. “What is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? You brought me here.”
“I don’t—“
It grew faster. In a heartbeat’s time, they were immersed in light. It was daylight, but it was different somehow. Just why, she had no idea. It just was.
A layer of fog snaked around her ankles. Tiny tendrils curled up to her thighs. She looked all around. She could see clearly now, but there was nothing to see. It was a vastness comparable to only a desert. Only there was no landscape or life of any kind.
She stared down at her feet. She didn’t know how it could be possible, but there was no ground beneath them.
“We’re floating.”
Nathan grasped her hand. “Come.”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. Away from here.”
“W-where did you intend to go?” She was almost afraid to ask, but she had to know.
“Home.”
Home? Nathan had no home. He was dead. Confusion and fear slapped her hard. Was she dead?
She pulled against Nathan’s grip. “Take me back. I want to go home.”
“I can’t.”
“Take me back.”
“I don’t know how to get back.” His look was apologetic.
Anger worked in hand with fear. She glared at Nathan, suddenly wanting to kill him if he weren’t already dead. If Nathan couldn’t get back, she was as good as dead. She’d just lost everything, home, family, her work. She would never again see the people she loved. It was incomprehensible.
“Sarah—“
“Don’t talk to me! I hate—“
The sound which interrupted her was unlike anything beyond description.
“What was that?”
A line of fire shot over their hea
ds and set the sky ablaze.
“Get down!”
Nathan pushed her face down. She held her arms over her head as another flame shot by. Searing pain shot into her hands from the shear heat of the flames.
Sarah looked up, but she couldn’t see anything through the smoke except for a few remnant fires burning near them.
Horse hooves galloped across the sky. Something was moving in the smog, and it was coming straight for them.
Nathan scrambled to his feet, pulling Sarah with him. He took his arm and pulled her away from the heat.
Sarah’s feet wouldn’t budge. “Nathan, what is that?”
The thing moving toward them was a horse. It galloped full speed through the smoke and stopped just a few feet in front of them.
It was a horse, but it wasn’t. Horses didn’t fly. This thing had wings, not wings like a bird but flesh over bone, like dragon or bat wings.
The thing moved closer. It had the muzzle of a horse. It’s neck arched up like one, but where there should be a mane was scales.
Its nostrils flared as it took in their scents. Smoke streamed out with each exhale. The thing didn’t have hooves, Sarah suddenly realized. They were claws large enough to tear a person to shreds.
The thing opened its mouth and revealed dagger-like teeth.
“Sarah, move!”
Sarah tried to run but felt as if her legs were made of rubber. Nathan grabbed her arm and hauled her away.
They couldn’t run fast enough. Fire shot past each side of them. Sarah felt the flames lick her back and she screamed. She would die now. If she wasn’t already dead before, she would die now.
Suddenly they stopped.
And the horse-thing stopped.
Sarah forgot about the pain. She gaped at the creatures before them. Too terrified to scream, she looked behind her and watched the horse cower. It backed up, gave a whinny which sounded more like a tortured scream, then galloped away.
Sarah turned back around. And this time she did scream.
* * *
Nathan stared at the creatures before him. There were two of them. They stood more than twelve feet high. Their bodies were like lions, but their heads were eagles. Sharp talons graced their two forelegs. Both were winged.
The creature on the right outstretched its wings, which had to be at least twenty feet across. Watching the horse run off, it let out a shriek, almost a battle cry of victory. Then it looked at Nathan and Sarah.
Both creatures slowly moved toward them.
“Don’t move, Sarah. If we run, they might attack.”
“We really don’t have much of a choice here, don’t you think?” Her voice was edged with hysteria.
Fear masked her sarcasm. He’d made a mistake not only by trying to take her home with him but in his calculations. This wasn’t home. He had no idea where this was, but it certainly wasn’t where his family had gone. All his life, he’d assumed one would go to some sort of higher place after death, not here. And certainly not to nothing.
“I’ll get you back home,” he told Sarah, but he didn’t think she was even listening.
The creatures neared them. They moved with the grace of a mountain cat. The one on his right lowered its beak toward his feet, slowly moved up, as if smelling him. The one on Sarah’s left did the same to her.
Sarah squeezed his arm. “What’s it doing?”
“Don’t move.”
“I can’t.”
“Shh…”
The creature lifted its head and stared directly into Nathan’s gaze. Nathan started to close his eyes for fear the thing would peck his eyes out, but he couldn’t.
There was something within the creature’s black eyes. It wasn’t anything at all, but it was something. Everything. Nothing and everything all at once.
It was moving. Things inside the creature’s eyes were moving.
These were the same creatures in the stained-glass window he’d created. He hadn’t known why he’d created them at the time. He still didn’t know. But they made sense. Somehow…he had no idea how…everything about them made perfect sense.
“These are griffins.” He heard Sarah say. “Mythological creatures. Mom read to…to Stan about them. They don’t exist.”
“Sarah, do you see it?”
“What?”
“I-its eyes. Look.”
Nathan didn’t know if Sarah looked. He had no physical way of knowing. He couldn’t turn his neck. He was paralyzed.
Things started to move. They accelerated faster than the speed of light. And it wasn’t just things. People too. People and thoughts and moments. Everything he’d felt and experienced in his life. It was coming to him, here and now. It was no longer in the past. He was home. And it was beautiful.
Nathan opened his eyes. He’d thought they’d been open the entire time, but now he wasn’t sure. Of anything.
He was lying on his back staring up at the bluest sky he’d ever seen. He sat up, took a deep breath. His lungs felt as if he’d drowned and been reborn all at once. He flexed his back, rubbed his temples. He looked at his hands, only to realize he was no longer holding Sarah’s.
“Sarah?”
He looked around. He was in the forest, but it didn’t look like French Mountain. The griffins were nowhere in sight.
“Sarah!”
No answer.
Panic rose in his throat. He’d lost her back where those griffin things were. What if the horse came back for her?
He stood up, bolted through a field of knee-high ferns.
There was no trace of her.
* * *
Sarah opened her eyes. Her first thought was the pain. An indescribable ache radiated throughout her entire body, into her joints, into her brain and pulsing, throbbing there.
What happened? The last thing she remembered was looking into the griffin’s eye. They couldn’t have been real, could they?
But they had to be. Emotions stronger than anything she’d ever experienced had coursed through her mind. Through the beast’s eye, she’d seen everything in her life. There had been joy, heartache, remorse, and somehow…she had no idea how…the whole thing was the most beautiful thing she’d ever experienced.
She blinked, smelled something. It was a mixture of pine and flowers so strong that she felt as if she were sitting in the middle of a florist or greenhouse.
Suddenly, as quickly as it had appeared, the pain vanished. It was gradually replaced by a warmth which radiated down her arms and legs, out the tips of her fingers and toes, and left her with a strange calmness unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
She sat up and took in her surroundings. It was like a picture right out of a calendar. She sat in the midst of a forest of every shade of green she’d ever seen or imagined. Moss carpeted a floor sprouting hundreds of thigh-high ferns and tiny white flowers. A narrow stream twisted around the white birch and elm trees.
Birds of various sizes and colors chirped and squawked overhead. Some she recognized as chickadees and sparrows. Others were brilliantly colored red and lavender. Pink and white butterflies fluttered near her face.
She brushed them away. “Nathan?”
No answer.
She scanned the forest. She was totally alone.
Panic edged in. She’d never seen any place on Earth as flawless as this. She certainly couldn’t be close to home.
What if that horse thing came back?
Sarah scrambled to her feet and bolted through the forest. She hadn’t ran more than a hundred yards when she saw Nathan. He was running toward her.
She crashed into him full force, wrapped her arms and legs around him so that he had no choice but to catch her.
She almost cried out from relief. She gripped him, not wanting to let him go. “I couldn’t find you. I thought those th—“
“Shh…I won’t let anything happen to you.” He stroked her hair.
“Where are we?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
She allowed him to se
t her on her feet. He held her at arm’s length. Sarah gripped his hands.
They were warm.
She released his hands. She gripped them again, held them up to her face. “You’re not cold.”
“You are.”
“What?”
He touched each side of her face. “You’re cold as ice.”
Panic started again. It settled in her gut with the distance feeling that something horrible was about to happen. She thought of her life in Lake George, how she’d been too busy to enjoy it. She’d been miserable and for what? Except for losing Michaela, she hadn’t one single thing to be miserable about. She had so many blessings, and she hadn’t been thankful for any of them.
Nathan was watching her closely. She stared into his eyes. She’d never been able to decipher the exact color of them. Now she saw them as—
“You’re eyes are blue now.”
She touched his face, saw him flinch from the coldness of her hand. She was almost too afraid to ask.
“What color are mine?”
He didn’t seem to want to answer.
“They used to be hazel. What color are they now?”’
“I…I don’t know.”
She felt her bottom lip quiver. “Am I…dead?”
“I don’t know.”
Panic turned to hysteria. So many thoughts raced through her head, she didn’t know which one to worry about first.
“I have to go home.”
Frantically, she began searching for a way out of the forest. She tripped over fallen logs and tree roots.
Nathan ran after her. She pulled her into his arms, but she refused to accept his closeness.
He gripped her shoulders. “Sarah, calm down.”
“How can you tell me to calm down? You’re not the one dead here!”
“You don’t know that.”
She wouldn’t accept being dead. She couldn’t be. She was still wearing khaki pants and an old tee shirt. People didn’t go to the Afterlife wearing khakis and a tee shirt!
Nathan sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I tried to take you home with me.”
“What?”
“If I came from some higher place, if my family is there…I was going home. I don’t have a place on Earth. I don’t fit into your world. I didn’t want to stay there, but I didn’t want to leave you.”
Ghost Of A Chance Page 15
