How…why did she know this would happen?
Face swollen and nose running, she sat and pet her dead cat, her furry body stiff as droplets of blood dripped from her nose onto her whiskered face and around her mouth. She felt as if hours had past during her grief, as questions ran through her mind, questions a nine year old should not have in her mind nor think to ask. How did she know Jezebel was dying? Why did she find her without any difficulty? Why did she feel her sweet cat’s death right down to her soul? Did she even know what a soul was?
After an indeterminable amount of time, Evie looked up to find her mother, bathed in early morning sunlight, as the long branches of the tree softly swayed around her.
“What are you thinking about sitting here with Jezebel? She’s gone, sweetheart. “She approached Evie, squatted down, and brushed the tear stained hair back from her mismatched eyes.
“Momma, why do I feel like I knew Jezebel’s soul?” she sobbed.
“How could I know how long she would live with me? I‘m not sure if I know what a soul is or how or why we have one? “Her large eyes pooled with tears as her chest hiccupped in distress. Her mother stared at her for a moment, her face exposing the careful way in which she would formulate her answer. Hooking her own silky black hair back behind her ears, she sat on the ground and took Evie’s hands in hers.
“Evie, the soul is the omnipresence of the beginning, middle, and the end of a beings physical existence. It is an always present and an indefinable force before it even has a physical body to reside in. Human nature only allows the soul to be acknowledged or celebrated during death, as if the soul is a newly sacred life force that disappears after death. The soul is always present and carefully apportioned, even before a person is born. You, my dear, are gifted because you know of its power, truth, and origin. Tell me Evie, do you think each individual soul, human or not, is a random gift? “
She asked the question, and searched Evie’s eyes with intent. Evie knew, at that moment, that her answer was very important. She wasn’t sure why it was so important, but she knew that she was not ready yet to say what her mother wanted to hear. So, she lied.
“I don’t know, momma. That’s why I am asking you. “
Her mother sighed, her disappointment palpable. “Come on, I will try to find a shoebox to place Miss Jezebel in. We shall give her a proper burial right here under this tree. What do you think? “She asked with a smile as she stood and brushed the dirt from her nightgown.
As Evie gently stood, lovingly cradling her cat across her chest, the words her mother wanted to hear sat unspoken upon her tongue, itching to tumble forth; the soul is an allotted destiny…
The last few swipes at the roof of her car dislodged the four inches of snow that had accumulated when she vaguely noticed the bright light followed by a boom that streaked through the sky. Arm poised mid-scrape, she thought, hmm, she should wish on that shooting star. Quickly getting back into the car, she sighed as she shimmied her butt into the warm seats. Her mind was on overdrive, rapidly sifting through her troubling thoughts and current responsibilities like a ticker tape. Throwing her car into reverse, she shifted then thrust it into each gear until reaching sixth as she turned onto her street not far from the highway.
The snow was becoming heavy. Shit. She hated driving in the snow. It was the fear of sliding on black ice that threw all of her joints into freeze mode, causing her to white-knuckle the steering wheel.
Cursing the heavy snow fall and lack of visibility, Evie’s car crawled along Pitman Pike at a whopping 20 miles per hour. As the radio played, she hummed off key to calm her nerves. The roads were deserted, due to a combination of the time of night and terrible driving conditions.
While her car crawled along the desolate expanse of road, Evie imagined herself pulling on her warm, soft black fleece pj bottoms. Suddenly, she swerved into the other lane to avoid something large and white in the road. Car sliding in the slush and ice, she pumped the brakes and jacked up the emergency brake as she slid sideways to a stop.
She blew out a relieved breath and mumbled to the interior of the car, “Wow. That was scary.” She peered into the rearview mirror, stunned to see what appeared to be the faint outline of a person. Fumbling for her cell phone with cold and clammy hands, she turned on her hazard lights. Opening her door, she attempted to dial 911 and step out of her car when her breath froze in her throat. Her phone slid from her hand onto the driver’s seat of her car, call failed blinked into the darkness. A man was standing inches from her, and he was a very large, angry, and naked man! His face was shadowed and his breathing was heavy as the meager street lights illuminated him from the waist down. Her face reddened by the site of his nakedness, so she quickly averted her eyes.
“Are you ok?” She blurted, eyes trained to the left of him, embarrassment keeping her eyes away. Why was he in the middle of a snowstorm naked? Scanning her surroundings, she saw that there wasn’t another car around anywhere.
As her eyes were drawn to the site of him, she was alarmed to see that his body shook all over, the outline of his fists evident as they clenched and unclenched by his naked hips. She swallowed the lump of fear that had formed in her throat. “I just called the police for you,” she lied hoping he would leave her alone, fearful knowing that the police were not coming.
Still nothing. No response. If she could just see his face, maybe he wouldn’t seem so intimidating. Evie thought about turning and getting back into her car, but he was too close to turn her back on. Run her intuition told her, but terror rooted her to the cold ground. Her hands stiff and cold, she half-turned and braced them on her open door. Get back in the car, her good sense told her. Unfortunately, the nurse in her insisted she try to help him. As she lifted her foot into the car, he was suddenly very still, the tremble had stopped, and in its place was an almost imperceptible vibration. Could he sense she was contemplating fleeing? Was steam rising off him or was it a trick of the streetlights reflecting off the large flakes of snow as they fell to the cold earth?
“My name is Evie.” Good one genius! Just give him your address too! “Uh, I think I have a blanket for you if I could just get back into my…” the words died and Evie’s heart skipped a beat as he was suddenly upon her, hand thrusting out with alarming speed as he grabbed her by her throat. Within mere seconds, he backed her against the car, his hand encircling her neck. The air whooshed out of her lungs, and she couldn’t breathe. Not so much from him applying pressure, but from something else.
Fear. Cold, stark, raw fear began thrumming through her veins.
He‘s a lunatic. “Please, let me go” she pleaded, as her eyes burned with tears. Slowly he pressed his full body against her. The contact sent an immediate fission of terror throughout her body. Like an electrical shock, her entire body became rigid as small pants of breath puffed from her lips. She couldn’t breathe deep enough, her lungs burning in her chest.
This can’t be happening. Is he on drugs? He was so hot and heavy; she was barely able to suck in a fortifying breath. Pressed against him almost to the point of pain, his body temperature felt dangerously high. Sandwiched between him and the car, Evie was immobilized and speechless. She knew he could somehow see her face, even though she couldn’t see his. He crouched down enough to look into her eyes, allowing the light from a nearby pole to illuminate the right side of his face.
Her voice was shrill, weak. “You need to let me go. “ He ignored her. His intense stare focused on her eyes. He seemed angry and confused, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. His dark and damp hair was plastered to his head, hanks of hair not quite concealing his eyes. His eyes were a terrifying and beautiful shade of gray glittering in the light from the streetlamps. A gray color similar to her gray eye. He reminded Evie of a wolf, scrutinizing its prey before pouncing. He surveyed her with a feral light in his eyes, scanning her face but repeatedly settling on her eyes, as if searching for something. Could he tell she was wearing color contacts?
He smiled, or grima
ced maybe. Evie wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Why do you hide?” his gravelly deep voice was tinged with an accent she could not quite place. She pulled her head back, was he referring to her eyes?
As she swallowed, her neck moved his hand up and down with the action, revealing the light pressure he had on her. At least he wasn’t choking her. Yet. “I don’t know what you are talking about and you should know that the police are gonna be here any minute.” her threat on deaf ears, his cold, molten eyes studied hers with intent.
“This is truly divine intervention at work, Evangeline. We have much to do, places to go.” His voice deceptively calm, while still fixated on her eyes. A carnal smile crept onto his full lips, “Your mortality has made you quite…captivating,” the last said as he pressed against her with unyielding force. Her ribs burned with the contact, an unexplainable concoction of pleasure and pain tested the boundaries of her mental strength and grip on reality.
When she felt his hot breath on her ear, she jerked her head back, hitting it against the roof of the car. How had he moved so quickly? Her body began trembling, her knees wobbling and weak causing her to fall if not for him holding her up by her neck. The gentle pressure on her neck was now alarmingly firm. Is he going to kill me now? Maybe crush my windpipe? She felt his lips part on a smile, his teeth softly grazing her earlobe as his warm breath soughed softly in and out of her ear canal. Evie shivered, the ripples cascading down her body. She could feel herself slipping, spots forming behind her eyes while a slow roar began building momentum in her head. Her heart beating erratically loud, the rushing sound becoming louder and louder, she realized she was passing out! No, no, no! This cant be happening! Not now!
As unconsciousness won the battle over her terror, Evie distantly but clearly heard his soft, malevolent chuckle. He whispered in her ear, “Your wait is over, Evangeline Smith. Your time has come.”
Chapter 2
She was floating. No, maybe she was swimming. How could she be since there was not any water! Their was no sound except for the faint, distant tinkle of bells softly echoing a melodious harmony of euphonious music as if they were effected by the wind, except there wasn’t any wind.
White light blurred her eyes, overwhelming in its intensity. She brought her hands to her eyes to shield them from the light, but her movements were slow, almost graceful and fluid as gossamer feathers fell from her hands. She blinked, watching as the silvery plumes gracefully tumbled away from her. Slowly, beautiful colors began to appear before her as if an unknown and unseen artist was painting the scenery before her.
She was at the bottom of a mountain looking up at peaks and valleys, the colors, hues, and textures indescribable. She looked down at her toes to find they were hovering over the ground a few inches. She felt as though she needed to take a deep breath, but there was no air to breath, as if it was unnecessary. She raised her head up to see a darkness slowly engulf the mountaintop. Quickly, dark shades of gray and black began to appear above the peaks, as if an unknown artist furiously painted their sorrow, darkness, and pain. She tried to scream out stop, but no sound came out of her mouth. Then she heard it. Her name called from a distance. “Evie” like a whisper on the wind, only there wasn’t any wind, just existence. “Evie!” This time closer, urgent. The colors began to run like a washed out painting. No! She said inside of herself, as her panic escalated. Wait! This is the farthest I have ever made it!
“Evie!” Thelma Smith yelled one more time, causing Evie to jump and suck in a breath. “Easy now, I’m right here with you honey.” She said pushing a sweaty hank of hair out of Evie’s eyes.
“You were dreaming. Was it the dream that you always have?” the question laced with worry and love shone through her bloodshot green eyes.
“Mom, what are you doing…where am I?” Evie asked in surprise to see her mother, and was even more surprised at the scratchy quality of her voice. Her eyes burned from the bright lights and her head pounded like a drum. She slowly and cautiously peeked through sensitive eyes at her surroundings: Pale green walls, white blanket, generic picture of sunflowers on the wall, IV pole. Wait, IV pole?
“I’m in the hospital?” She asked in surprise, as she gaped at her surroundings.
“You don’t remember what happened?” Thelma asked worriedly, wrinkling her brows at her.
“Oh, I remember all right. There was a man in the street and I almost hit him. A crazy and naked man, at that!” Complete irritation laced her words as she pulled herself to a sitting position while Thelma fussed with the blankets on the bed.
Thelma grabbed her hand and gave it a conciliatory rub. “Honey, listen. You had a seizure while you were driving the other night. You hit a telephone pole.”
“That’s bullshit!” Evie snapped as she pulled her hand away. “How can you sit there and tell me that I had a seizure, especially since I have never had a fucking seizure in my life!” Her fists clenching into the blankets as her head began to pound. She was going to have one hell of a headache.
“Evie, watch your mouth and keep it down! You are not the only patient here you know.“ Her mother quietly admonished as she looked around the room to see who had heard the outburst. Thelma’s face was red, eyes shiny and brimming with unshed tears. Evie immediately felt contrite. Her poor mother must have been a nervous wreck. They relied on each other so much.
It was just Evie and her mom for as long as she could remember. Thelma Smith was a devoted mother who never spoke of Evie’s father and Evie never asked about him. A person can’t really miss what they never had to begin with is what Thelma would always say the rare times Evie would ask about him.
Mother and daughter had a close and quiet relationship. The type of relationship where they could eat dinner in a comfortable silence, Thelma lifting her hand for the salt and pepper, and Evie passing it without a spoken word. They knew each other well, sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences. Strangely, Evie and her mother never argued and Evie never had the teen angst that so many girls suffered from, so she didn’t want to start now.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that you threw me off guard. That’s all. I didn’t have a seizure.” She said in the most matter of fact, confident voice that she could muster. Her mother smiled reluctantly at her, as if saying ‘whatever you say honey’ humoring her. Damn it! Thelma wasn’t buying it.
“Sylvie Engals? I was supposed to see her.” Evie asked uneasily, already knowing the answer.
Thelma gently shook her head, her gaze full of sympathy, “She passed away at about four thirty in the morning, after your accident. I’m sorry. Her daughter was informed of what happened.” She squeezed Evie’s hand to provide some comfort. Evie closed her eyes, resting the back of her head on the headboard. She felt like a failure.
Opening her eyes, she cleared her throat and asked, “When can I get out of here?” Just then, the door opened as a doctor walked in, a nurse trailing behind him pulling a blood pressure machine.
Evie groaned and closed her eyes, could things get any worse? “Hey Marco, how are you?”
He stood at the end of her bed scrutinizing her. Taking off his glasses, he nodded. “I should be asking you that question.” His Mediterranean accent was always heavy when he was angry, and right now he was difficult to understand. He was pissed off.
Interrupting the awkward silence, Thelma cleared her throat. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get a cup of coffee.”
Lifting a clipboard off the end of the bed, he avoided her eyes while he waited for the nurse to leave the room, “We did some diagnostic tests, a cat scan and EEG which indicated some mild seizure activity.”
She rolled her eyes while he ignored it and continued, “We started you on a loading dose of Dilantin.” Marco stepped around the bed and sat in the chair Thelma had vacated, “Evie, listen to me. You had a seizure.” His elbows on his knees, he leaned forward and took her hand. Sudden images flooded her mind. Medical school, internship, marriage, four kids, sudden death at age fifty-six.
Abruptly, she pulled away. He stiffened and sat back in the chair.
His accent was heavy from his anger. “Why do you pull away from me?” He stood shoving his hands in his white coat and paced across the room. She sat mute, unable to answer him. What would she say? I can’t let you touch me because I can see your entire life span including when you will die. She turned her head away from him. She could feel his dark brown eyes boring into her. Turning back to him, his eyebrows lifted with a silent question. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I’m sorry Marco. I’m really overwhelmed right now.” He didn’t deserve to be pushed away. He deserved someone better than her, which was why she left her position in the hospital over a year ago.
She had become a nurse four years ago and scored her first position in a hospital on a busy cardiac floor. She was passionate about her position; her compassion for others gave her a feeling of purpose and need.
Dr. Marco Evangelista was an exotic and handsome medical resident from Croatia. The nurses on the unit she worked drooled and sighed when he was making his rounds. His deep brown eyes twinkled when he smiled; a roguish look of mischief always seemed to be present. He seemed only to have eyes for Evie, which made her feel giddy and her heartbeat raced whenever he was near. They dated and as things heated up, so did her unnerving ability to see a person’s lifespan and subsequent death. She tried to ignore her vision, until her first intense sexual experience was tainted by the intrusive vision of Marco’s entire life and eventual death. As he lay next to her smiling and handsome as he glistened in his afterglow while trying to catch his breath, she held back tears, lips quivering at the realization that she couldn’t continue their relationship.
The Allotter:The Threads of Destiny Page 2
