We had almost done everything she’d wanted to have done, done. But there were still a few things to gather, like stocking stuffers and things of that nature. She went in for her surgery and everything went great! The last time she’d been in the hospital, for the first knee 6 months prior, she’d contracted hospital-acquired pneumonia. Her doctor, wanting her to be healthy for the rigorous knee therapy that follows two days after surgery, released her the following day. The 20th.
Wanting to forgo giving you all the details, I received a phone call early on the 21st. A phone call no one wants to get. My father, who’d awoken to find his partner for the past 34 years gone, couldn’t make that call. The responding police officer had to do it for him. Pneumonia had taken her from us.
So started my descent into grief.
We were supposed to do some shopping before I took her to physical therapy that day. We were supposed to do a lot of things during my break, because she too had it off for recovery.
Instead, I had to help my dad organize a funeral.
During the year and a half that followed, I read over 230 books. All while working full time and tending to a family.
It was the start of summer vacation in 2010 when I’d run out of books to read. I dove into spending time with my boys and vegging at the pool daily. I thought it had been long enough, and maybe the grief wouldn’t be so sharp. I was wrong. Without having someplace for my mind to wander, to live in, I was a mess of tears.
It was then I’d woke up in the middle of the night, leaving a dream that made my brain buzz. I tried to shake it off, leave it where I found it. In my dreams. But it wanted to be let out. So I sat down in secret and started writing.
At first when my family noticed my switch from books to the computer and all my constant typing, they asked what I was doing. I lied. I told them I was writing to my sister who lives in Texas. At first they bought it, but as the typing went on, they were puzzled as to why I didn’t just call her and talk to her. Again, I lied. But this time I said she’d asked me to write down some things about our mom.
While they still were puzzled by all the clicking going on at the keyboard, they left me alone.
Three months later, I’d written and finished my first novel. Cloud Nine. During that time I also started on another story which I finished and released four months later.
While writing started out as therapy for a grieving soul, it is now something I must do to keep all the exciting characters quiet. I love it! I only wish it could have developed without such dark beginnings, but nonetheless, my mother would be proud.
About the Chick
Living in the heart of the corn belt, I am a wife and mother to two teenaged boys. While I’ve always loved reading and writing, it’s only lately that I’ve taken the time to sit and write down some real work. I really hope people will love the journey I take you on as you delve into the worlds I’ve created!
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Cloud Nine
Melissa Smith
An Excerpt
Chapter 1
Have you ever heard the saying ‘The grass is always greener on the other side’? Or if you hear someone say ‘every cloud has a silver lining’, you don’t imagine that to hold any real truth, just wishful thinking. Well that’s what I thought anyhow. Until, I had my very own cloud with a silver lining. Ok. I can see your face now. You don’t believe me, but it’s true. It showed up in my bedroom, as this little mass of what I thought was fog. Yeah I know. Fog in your bedroom, you say? Again, I know how it sounds, but it’s true. Well, my name is Claire Grayson and this is my story. Let me start off with that morning.
The morning of November 4th I woke up to my alarm clock at 6:45 am. Just like every weekday for school. I laid there in bed trying to coax myself to get up. When I finally managed to drag my sorry self out of bed I looked over by my closet door to see what again looked like a patch of fog hovering about two or three feet off my carpeted floor. I sat on the edge of my mattress for a couple more minutes just staring at it. Waiting and wondering if it would disappear. It didn’t. I waited some more, maybe about six or seven minute’s total, before I got up to look at it a little more closely. I stood about a foot away from it for a minute or so just to see if it would again just disappear. Again, it didn’t. With a slightly nervous hand, I reached out to it. When my fingers had just broken the surface, it seemed to solidify right in front of my eyes! Just as quickly I pulled back my hand and jumped back a few feet and landed on my backside rather painfully. As I sat there and watched it, it seemed to be getting just a little bigger. Where at first it was only about the size of a beach ball, it was now about the size of ridiculously big balloons that car dealer’s use! Maybe even just a little bit bigger! But by the time it got to that size it seemed to slow down and stop growing all together. My heart slamming in my chest, adrenalin pin pricking all over my body, I stood up slowly. I backed up until my knees hit the edge of my bed and I was forced to sit. I sat there for what seemed like forever when inside my head I heard a deep voice say Hello Claire.
A voice! In my head! That’s it! I ran out of my room as quickly as my tingling legs would carry me. All the way down the steps and into the first floor bathroom. Closing the door and locking it, I put my back against it and just stood there gasping for air. There just doesn’t seem to be enough in this little bathroom! After about five or six minutes of deep breaths I calmed down enough to think. “What was that?” I asked myself, not expecting an answer by any means.
I am here to be of service to you Claire. It came again in a smooth tone.
Quickly scanning the bathroom, I spin in a circle looking, “Who… Wh… What are you?!”
You needn’t speak out loud for me to hear you Claire.
I blink my eyes several times in an attempt to wake up. Ok, I still must be sleeping. That’s it, I’m dreaming. Pinching my arms, and slapping my cheeks. Soon my real alarm clock is going to go off and wake me from this craziness.
You are not crazy, I am real. And, I am here for you Claire. The voice responded in a timbre that rumbled low and soft.
Freaking out just a little more that this dream just isn’t stopping and I’m not waking up I walk over to the sink and turn on the cold water. I place my hands under the running water and wait to wake up. Nothing. So I bend down so I can splash some ice cold water on my face, again, still not waking.
You are not sleeping.
With my hands braced on the edge of the sink I look up, ‘cause that seems logical doesn’t it? I ask. “How do you know my name?” My voice comes out as little more than a croaked whisper.
Because, I am now here for you for a time. It said confidently to me.
Giving up I ask another question. “You keep saying that, how are you ‘here’ for me?”
You are in need of me, so therefore I am now here.
Grabbing hold of my head, shaking it back and forth, I realize that I am in fact not sleeping. I am awake. I am hearing this… voice. And it is talking to me! I’m crazy. I have officially gone off the deep end. Lost all my marbles. Lost a few cards from my otherwise full deck. I try to shake myself into sanity. I recognize that being seventeen is a bit young for going bananas or letting bats take up residence in my belfry, but come on! Trying to calm myself down I have to try to think rationally. I look into the mirror and look into my own eyes. Yeah school has been a little tough this year. Big deal, its school. I rub my hands over my face; I’m a senior for Pete’s sake. Yeah mom an’ dad aren’t home as often because of their jobs and I’m pretty much raising myself, but seriously. I can’t be going mad.
With a tone that said amusement, it spoke again. Are you finished yet?
Holy crap! Taking a few more deep breaths to try and calm my already erratically beating heart, I pause before speaking. I look around myself and try to see the source of the voice. “Ok, here’s the deal. I don’t need whatever y
ou think I need. I’m fine, really.” I actually feel a little better now that I have stated that fact.
And who are you trying to convince? It said to me with what sounded like a snort of laughter.
Ugh! Really? Is that attitude? Still looking around and still not seeing anything, I respond a bit caustically. “I don’t need convincing. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my own needs thank you very much.”
That is precisely the point. At your age you shouldn’t need to take care of all your needs. The voice says smoothly.
Switching my weight to one leg and hands on my hips I give a little of the attitude back. “What?”
Think of me as your fairy god parent, or cloud, as the case may be.
Laughing out with a snarky laugh because I simply can’t help it I say “Really? Aren’t I too old for that kind of thing?”
Continuing on as if I hadn’t spoken, While still others call us guardian angels. We however, refer to ourselves as simply Guardians. And no, you are not too old. He almost sounded like he wanted to laugh at that last little bit.
Suddenly there came a knock on the door that made me jump out of my skin and scream just a little, I hear my mother, “Claire? Claire, who are you talking to in there?”
Opening the door quickly and just standing there looking a little shocked I’m sure, I quickly reply “No one mom. Just me in here. Talking to myself. I’m ok, really.” With that I push past her to walk into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Looking over at the microwave, my eyes bug, my mouth drops open because I see that it is almost 7:20. You’ve got to be kidding me! Throwing my hands in the air and huffing a little, I get my cup and run back upstairs to get dressed. I have to be at school by 7:45! I have a tutoring lesson to give. I am TOTALLY going to be late!
I can help you with that. It said in a way that sent shivers running up my spine.
Shocked that I’m still hearing the voice I snap off a comment, “Yeah? How ya gonna do that? Magically zap me into my clothes, brush my teeth and comb my hair all at once?” And before I had my bedroom door closed I was all of those things. I dropped my cup, but it didn’t fall far. I backed up hard against my door and started to hyperventilate. “How… What… How… did you… do that?”
With a voice as smooth as silk the voice responded. I told you, I am here to see to your needs. You needed to be dressed and ready to walk out of the door. So, as you can see, you are. I swear I could almost hear a chuckle in the voice as it added, You also needed to not drop your cup, so I grabbed it before it spilled and made a mess.
“But how did you do it?” I ask staring down at myself then walking over to my mirror to look more closely. I have on a complete outfit. Shoes and all. Hair combed like I usually wear it. And I’m wearing make-up? I actually like the make-up, my lightly tanned skin looks flawless, my dark brown eyes seem bigger somehow, even my chestnut brown hair that I don’t usually take much time in really styling looks good. “I don’t normally wear make-up” I said breathily while gently touching my face.
That’s because you usually do not have the time to put in the effort. And to answer your first question, I have already answered your first question.
Turning from my mirror to see that the ‘cloud’ was still by my closet. Looking a little more solid, and not quite so big around, it shrank back down to about a beach ball size. I narrow my gaze and lower my tone a bit. “What?” then realizing that just didn’t seem to get across how upset that comment made me I almost squealed, “That didn’t answer anything! You just repeated yourself!”
I swear I could hear it chuckle. I already told you the answer to that question because you have already asked it once before.
I’m arguing with a cloud! I have gone crazy. “Ok, humor me. Answer it again.”
I told you that I am likened to a fairy god-parent. Only I am a Guardian. I can give you what you need. Again with a little chuckle to its tone, You seem to need a lot.
“I’m gonna be eighteen in just a few months. I graduate high school a couple months after that. Again, aren’t I too old for a fairy god-mother?” Expecting it to see things my way I stand up straight, hands on my hips. It seems to shimmer just a little bit then rises to eye level.
With a tone that was most determined it said, You are never too old to be taken care of. You have been taking care of yourself for too long as it is. So now I am here to take over your care for a time.
“Ok, let’s say I accept what you’re saying. Not that I am mind you. But just let’s say I do. How long are you planning on sticking around. And how am I to hide you? You’re pretty big not to be noticed.”
I stay with you until I think you really don’t need to be taken care of. I can take care of not being noticed. Pausing for a few seconds adds, If you’re to be at school on time for your tutoring lesson, you need to be leaving.
Looking over at the clock it says 7:37. Damn. Cutting it just a little close. Getting my coat and tugging it on I grab my bag and purse, then I run for the door. Being early November, I carefully walk down the snow slick driveway I dig in my purse for my keys, I turn to look behind me and up just a little. I have to stop and turn completely around. “You’re joking right? You can’t be serious! People are going to see you!” Floating just above my head, just like you see in cartoons, is what looks like my very own personal storm cloud, just waiting to dump a little rain on me and only me.
This time not bothering to hide its amusement it laughs just a little. You might not want to speak out loud in public. People really will think something is wrong with you. Besides, no one but you can see me.
Getting a little more upset as time quickly ticks by I snap. “Again, are you kidding me? I’m talking to a cloud. Mist. Water vapor. Something is wrong with me!” Looking at my cell I see that the time is again too damn close for my comfort. I’m going to have to hurry. Turning back around and getting into my car I start to pull out. Hopefully the student that I have to tutor is later than I am. Attempting to do as the ‘Guardian’ suggests I speak to it with my thoughts. Can you hear me?
Without missing a beat it replies instantly. Yes. I told you that I could earlier. It says in a tone that one uses when speaking with an errant child.
Again with the attitude! So what do I call you? You do have a name don’t you? Or do I just call you Guardian or Cloud? As if slick streets aren’t enough to deal with in the morning, I have a snarky mass of vapor to contend with too.
My name is Sterling.
That’s a different name. Then with a little resignation, I take a deep breath to start over just a bit. Ok, I’m done arguing, so what exactly are you going to do for me? Almost running that last stop sign, I’m glad I only live a few miles from the school.
Well if you like I could have you to school now. Instead of waiting, that is, for you to get yourself there on your own without sliding through any more stop signs.
Ok mister smarty pants. Get me to school now. And before I could finish my thought suddenly the smell in my car was different. Like warm spice and salty sea air. A nice combination. Taking a deep breath to take more of it in I realize that I was no longer moving, I was however in the parking lot, in a stall, with my car in park. Not caring if anyone saw me talking to what appeared to be myself I spoke out loud, “How did you do that?”
I swear I could hear the eyeballs roll. Must we go over this again? You needed to be at school, you asked for my assistance, and so here you are.
Sterling, what can’t you do? I mean can you do anything I ask? Starting to feel a little odd about this conversation going on I add Can you hear everything inside my head?
I can do anything you need done. Not what you want but what you need. There is a difference. And Yes. I can hear everything that goes on inside your thoughts.
None of my thoughts are mine alone? None? Suddenly the bottom of my stomach falls out. I don’t like that idea one bit. Some things are personal. That’s why you think them and not speak them out loud. And now he tells me that they are open for
his viewing?
Your thoughts are yours and yours alone, I just happen to hear them. I will not repeat anything that I happen to hear unless you need me to.
But you can hear them. Hear everything. I’m not sure I like that. No, I know I don’t like that. Looking at the dash clock I have one minute to get myself inside. I grab my bag and purse and start running.
I am sorry to make you feel uncomfortable. I am here only to be of help and support to you.
You just have to give me time to adjust. Please.
Chapter 2
Making it through my session this morning with no problems was good. I also made it through all of my classes today with no problems. All day long Sterling has been on my mind. But he… he? Are you a boy? You sound like a boy.
I could hear what sounded like a soft nervous laugh, I do not see why my sex matters. But if it makes you at ease, yes, I am male.
Thanks, just asking. Anyway, apparently he is being polite and letting me think on my own all day without commentary. I suppose he could be useful. It has been a little tiresome taking care of myself for so long. I thought I was doing a rather good job at it too. I’m a good kid, according to my aunt I don’t suffer from ‘Single Child Syndrome’. I get good grades; I even tutor on the side for money. I didn’t think things were all that bad. This new turn in the road will just take a few miles for me to get used to it.
After getting home and shedding my coat and shoes I make a bee line to the fridge, I rummage around for a snack worth having. Ugh. Nothing good in here. Closing the door, I turn to the pantry. I stand there and look at all the shelves looking and looking some more. Again, nothing that jumps out at me and says ‘this looks good, eat me.’ Standing up straight and casually looking around, Can you find me something that might be good for a snack?
All you have to do is ask.
In my hands was big bowl of hot buttered popcorn topped with slightly melting M&M’s. Yummm! Wow! Thanks! How did you know I love this?
If he had a face I could swear he sounded like he was smiling at me. I have done my, homework, as you say. I watched you for some time to gauge whether or not you were truly in need of assistance. I know most of your little quirks by now.
Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories Page 75
