The Mark of Chaos
Page 32
johnny held his arms to the sky toward me and let loose a long and loud tear-filled scream, “J . . . e . . . n . . . s . . . é . . . a! Come back!”
He knew I had left my body. He wanted me to return to that mangled mass of pain. I don’t think so. My body would die soon anyway.
He screamed again, “J . . . e . . . n . . . s . . . é . . . a!” His cry was so heart wrenching, gut wrenching, and soul wrenching that I could not leave him. What’s that they say, ‘Love knows no bounds.’
I flew closer to him. Closer. Closer. I came up to his body. I was so close, I could hear him breathe. His black pants and boots were rags of bloody grime. His shirt and vest had disintegrated leaving to the air his grossly burned chest and the sight of internal organs. His pain matched the agony I’d felt when in my body. I could feel it.
Then, something all around me brightened. I felt joined by company I could not see. Maybe the Angels had come to take me away from earth. What a relief that would be. But poor johnny. I had the idea then that maybe I could heal him from the spirit state. If I were to abandon him, at least I could heal him first.
I aimed my spirit hands at his body, filling him with personal love for a good long while. And I found myself crying. It’s true. A spirit can weep.
He started calming down. “Angel,” he whispered, “my Angel.” He said this again and again until I’d completely healed him. Or, maybe it was an illusion. Maybe he was dead. Or maybe I was dreaming. His skin looked renewed. Was this real? What was real anymore?
My body was on the ground inches from me, but I couldn’t bear to go back in it. A force pulled me toward it, and I realized that somehow I needed to be in a body if I were to hang around. So, I went into johnny.
“That’s good,” he said panting, “stay there if you wish, but stay with me.”
I didn’t feel like I’d possessed him or anything. It was more like I was in a part of him—like a guest in his mind, and maybe his heart. A body looks finite, but somehow the reality of an existence was most expansive. The intangible world of him felt like a world in itself. And even though I could somehow see out of his eyes—his body, nor world, were mine.
Then I wondered if I could heal my body. The answer rippled through me like some forgotten knowing that had once been common knowledge. I’d have to go back into my body to heal it. It was like some rule or something, Angel lesson #4. A body without a spirit was not to be healed. However, if I went into my body, I’d be unconscious and unable to heal myself. Oh, what a conundrum!
johnny lifted my body in his arms. I could barely stand to look at it.
Then, I felt a change occur in the consistence of his body energy, his mind energy too. It became thicker and harder while slippery and weightless all at once. We were flying, something I did not know johnny could do. We flew through blinks of light until we landed in an empty corridor of a hospital, somewhere in Montana. His human form returned. Mine, such as it was, remained an ugly mess in critical condition.
Oh johnny, I thought, even doctors can’t save me now.
Hang on, I heard his mind say, hang on. He rushed my body around a corner and down a hall to the emergency entrance. Nurses closed in around us. A gurney was rolled before johnny, and my body was placed upon it and taken into a white room that reeked with antiseptic. Weird I know, but I could smell it, more acutely I think, than I would have from my own nose.
We watched the medical people work on my flesh. I guess others were allowed to heal me, if they could.
johnny took us into the hall. He sat on the floor leaning against a wall, head hanging, hands dangling over his upward bent knees. It was neat being in him. I felt nourished in his male aura, and here, his magic held no mystery. I beheld the workings of Tazmarkian power. I would have considered living in him, but his dark side was still too much for me.
They’ll fix you, Jen, he said with his mind. They must. I won’t live on earth without you. Such treasure wasted . . . if you die. Meaning is not, if not with you.
“Hey there.” “Hi there.” “Ho there.” Singsong voices sounded by the operating room door. I recognized the voices. They had narrated the battle at Zeke’s meadow. A soft white ball of light formed, about three feet in circumference. Inside the ball were three small foot long angels. I also recognized them as the Angels who helped me heal myself in Zeke’s meadow—fairy-like, light-hearted, and whimsical. I labeled them by their sunset colors, Orange, Yellow, and Pink.
Orange said, “We are your Angels Three.”
I exited johnny’s body, gliding to them.
Jen? johnny said, feeling my absence. I glanced at him looking in my direction, wondering if he could see my Angels Three.
With my mind, I said, I’ll be right back.
I went to white ball and said, “So you are my Angels?”
“Yes, but different than you,” said Orange.
“Will you stay?” asked Pink
“Will you leave?” asked Yellow.
“It’s your choice,” said Orange.
I, like Sleeping Beauty, had good fairies on my side. And I guess in some way I was Sleeping Beauty, well not so beautiful, at least not now. But johnny, my prince, couldn’t awaken me, least of all with a kiss. “I cherish him,” I said to the Angels, “but his evil side—.”
“What is evil?” asked Pink
“What is it?” asked Yellow.
“What?” asked Orange.
Then johnny moved past us. I hadn’t noticed that he’d magically given himself new clothes, all white this time—all white. “Come, Jen,” he said. I guess he could see me, or sense me. Something like that. He entered the room where my broken body lay. I followed him. The Angels followed me. My body was hooked up to a machine.
“Her body is too traumatized to survive,” said a doctor. “She’ll die soon. There isn’t anything else we can do.”
“I’d like to be alone with her,” johnny said.
The doctor nodded and left, taking the medical personnel with him.
johnny sank to his knees and rested his hands on my black and blue forearm. He cried out in a whisper, “Jen. Come back inside me. Channel Divine Light through me into you. Heal yourself.”
I turned to the Angels. “Can that be done?”
Orange said, “If your energy is filtered through him, yes, that can be allowed. It is then as if he is healing you.”
“But my spirit isn’t in my body, and I was under the impression I couldn’t heal myself given that condition.”
Orange replied, “That is true. Angels aren’t allowed to heal a soulless body. But he is not an Angel. Even so, it is as you say, you must reenter your body sometime before the healing is complete. If you do not, you will die despite everything.”
I said, “I think this act would kill him.”
“Maybe,” said Pink.
“Probably,” said Yellow.
“Who knows?” said Orange.
I asked, “If I went back in my body, could you heal me?”
“Not this time,” Orange answered, “Synchronicity has its own way of bringing things to balance.”
I said, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Love him,” said Pink.
“Leave him,” said Yellow.
“It’s your choice,” said Orange.
johnny’s hands were still upon my bruised and broken forearm, spaced just so—that when his head bowed down, it touched the spot between them. It seemed he was concentrating. Do it, he commanded with his mind so desperately, I felt heartless to refuse. Compassion, I was best at that. Angel lesson #5, You can empower another with your gift. And then I realized that if johnny sent his energy through me, why couldn’t I send mine through him? Other, than it might kill him.
I settled back inside him.
“Yes,” he said, “yes.”
I reluctantly shined my light. Yellow light fizzed around him, then orangish, then pink. The light began turning red, then back to pink, then paler pink. Getting it to white was hard. Hi
s own energy constancy seemed to resist it. Finally, we got there. Through his hands, Divine Light came into my mangled body, touching every square inch, turning whiter and whiter. His pain mounted, but he held his concentration until the pain overcame him. He threw his head back and screamed. His skin turned lobster red, shriveling.
My poor Beloved, burned and healed, burned and healed, only to be burned again. Oh, what pain he’d suffered by me, and for me.
A thunderclap of howls arose above us from the maternity ward. Newborn babies had simultaneously burst forth from their mother’s wombs and sucked in their first breaths. Their munchkin vibrato cries shattered the thick bleak sorrow that had hung in the air like muck far too long. A clear kind of joy lightened—everything.
I knew it was because of johnny, because of my power channeled through him. Destroyer that healed, instead of destroying. Doctors and nurses burst in the room. johnny fell backwards and passed out.
I heard the Angels speak behind me.
“Is that evil?” asked Pink.
“Is it?” asked Yellow.
“Is it?” asked Orange.
I turned back toward them. “Will he die?”
“If you do,” said Pink
“And you will if you don’t return to your body,” said Yellow.
“Soon,” said Orange.
“If we both die, will we be together then?” I asked.
“No,” said Pink.
“Why?” I asked.
“He will go where Tazmarks go,” said Yellow.
“You will go where Shens go,” said Orange.
“But I don’t much like earth,” I replied.
“You are weak,” said Pink.
“A coward,” said Yellow.
“Worthless,” said Orange.
“Yes,” I replied, “I am all those things.”
“You are strong,” said Pink
“You are brave,” said Yellow
“Merciful,” said Orange.
I was confused. “Well, which am I?” I asked, frustrated, “a failure, or a success?”
“You decide,” they said simultaneously.
Angel lesson #6. Labels are born from perceptions. We can choose our point of view. And mine was this: I loved johnny. I couldn’t bear to never see him again. And it appeared he was trying to awaken me with a kiss, a kiss that could kill him. Prince Charming after all.
The Angels and the ball of light disappeared for I had made my decision.
I went back into my body, back into horrible discomfort, but for johnny, I’d bear it. For johnny, I’d bear anything.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Days passed. Randa appeared at the hospital every morning. I think she was there a week before we noticed her. We’d been too out of it to notice anyone. The medical personnel nursed johnny and me back to health, but mostly we had nursed each other. Although I’d begun to heal myself through johnny’s body, my condition was so poor that a long while passed before I even felt alive enough to finish the job. And I couldn’t begin to heal johnny until that time.
We were the miracle talk of the hospital. The man who for no reason began burning up and then regenerated mysteriously (my doing of course—slowly to make it look more natural) and the woman who should be dead, growing healthy. Reporters snapped pictures that of course came out blank, unblessed by johnny. And he suggested to the public with some huge thought wave that the so-called miracle was a hoax.
He handled that problem, but the old problem still existed. Patients were mysteriously disappearing, one per night. My hope that johnny had evolved out of that ritual—faded. The police were all over the place. johnny didn’t like that.
How did Randa find us? She’d gone back to Zeke’s Meadow to retrieve my body. When it was gone, she began checking morgues and hospitals. Randa goes to church now. I guess my recovery made a believer out of her. We didn’t know what story to tell her that would hide the truth. So, we just told her that johnny came for me, but a gang of drunken red-necks tortured us until johnny overcame them, whereupon we made it to the hospital.
Of course, when Randa asked if we called the police . . . johnny answered—well, you know what johnny answered.
johnny and I visited each other in wheel chairs. The doctors didn’t seem to suspect that he wasn’t completely human. They were stumped, however by his uncommonly dull nerves, non-existent blood type, and a genetic deformation on his hands. Vials of his blood were taken for research. johnny made the vials disappear of course, and he was working on erasing the whole incident from everyone’s mind, bit by bit, day by day.
After three weeks, we were released from the hospital. The medical personal seemed as if they’d forgotten all the strange happenings that had occurred.
Randa bought three airline tickets to Arizona. When we got there, she rented a no frills blue Honda and drove us to my home in Spruce. She nursed us for a week with motherly care. I had never given her the credit she deserved. She had mothered me for years despite our same age. I owed her, major time. And someday, I’d repay her.
johnny hunted each night, looking healthier with each passing day. Randa never noticed his evening prowl. Not once. johnny and I didn’t say much to each other. We couldn’t, not with her there. But then, what was there to say? Our dilemma was the same. We loved each other. But I still couldn’t accept him killing at night, or his monstrous outbursts that could yet harm me. I supposed I loved him somehow truly, and probably eternally, but nowhere near unconditionally. But I planned to, eventually. Someday, I would. The day I celebrated him ‘as is,’ would be the day my wings of unconditional love would be full-grown.
Finally, Randa left, making me promise to paint again. She drove away in the sunset, and johnny and I stayed outside until darkness came and the stars were bright.
We stood hand in hand looking up at the universe from my fragrant filled yard. The roses were in full bloom. We were too.
“I have to feed,” he said. “I should have left an hour ago.”
“Stay a moment more,” I pleaded softly, “just a moment.”
He sighed, relinquishing, though I knew the pause would be brief.
I gazed up at the heavens. “Look at those stars. They must have an answer for us.”
“I know the stars,” johnny said, “and you are so much like them. I have so many places I want to take you on this earth. I have so much yet to teach you about what a Shen can do, about what we can do together—more than you’ve ever dreamed. We can change the world.” Gazing deeply into my eyes, he added, “I never cared about that before. You make me care.”
I asked, “How is it that we can change the world johnny, but we can’t change you?”
He drew me close. “You will accept, in time, that my nature has merit.”
I slanted my face upward toward his. He kissed my forehead. I wrapped my arms around his back, squeezing tight, and pressed my ear against his chest to hear his faintly beating heart. “Oh, my Dragon!”
I choked down the Divine Light that wanted to emerge. I had to remember not to care for him divinely, only humanly—lest my light burn him again. This was a hard thing to do. Harder still, was accepting that my true nature endangered him, and his true nature endangered me. The truth was, we couldn’t be our natural selves around each other, and that was a sad truth indeed.
I turned my eyes upward once more beholding the stars, calling to the sparkling wonders with all my heart for a solution to this complex dilemma. Perhaps there was a solution. I didn’t know. But maybe. A Tazmark and a Shen had come to care for each other. Was that not a great feat? Okay. Okay. So we almost did each other in a time or two, but we were still here, weren’t we? Here—under the stars, in a warm embrace. Angel lesson #7. Expect miracles.
What’s that they say, ‘Love conquers all.’
We’ll see.
I hope you enjoyed Book One in the Mark of Chaos Series. To purchase Book Two, An Angel’s Touch, please follow the link below:
An Angel’s Touch
Thank you for reading, and please remember to leave a review! For Updates on sales and new releases, please sign up for my mailing list by following the link below:
Susan D. Kalior Mailing List
Other Books by Susan D. Kalior
*Warriors in the Mist: A Medieval Dark Fantasy
*The Dark Side of Light: A Medieval Dark Fantasy
*Growing Wings Self-Discovery Workbook:
17 Workshops to a Better Life-Volume One
*Growing Wings Self-Discovery Workbook:
18 Workshops to a Better Life Volume Two
*The Other Side of God: The Eleven Gem Odyssey of Being
*The Other Side of Life: The Eleven Gem Odyssey of Death
*The Other Side of Self: The Eleven Gem Odyssey of Plurality
Manufactured in the United States of America
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to my sister, Cindy Kalior, for her enthusiastic interest in my work. Endearing thanks to my daughter Sara C. Roethle’s haunting poem under Part Two, tapped into the Jenséa character. Her effort to contribute her proof reading skills no matter how busy her life, is also much appreciated. I thank my Laura Keyser for being my Grammarian, solving all sentences that want to break the rules of accepted grammar. Thanks to Jim Stepnowski, who painted a portrait of the character, johnny, years ago. This portrait served as an almost magical inspiration in developing the book. Thank you to Mark Kalior who, unbeknownst to him, helped inspire the johnny character in a metaphysical discussion we had that led to this book. Much appreciation goes to those who read the early draft and rendered much support: Mark Kalior, Robert Kalior, Susan Bortman, Kevin Bowman, Anita Savi, and Carole Lee Kalior in whatever world(s) she resides after her death in 2005. Thanks to her also for sharing her expertise as an astrologer to supply astrological information for the johnny character. My gratitude to Karlyn Myers for rendering valuable resource information, and to Dr. Cyndi Meyers for curing my tendonitis which enabled me to maintain my writing pace. And my gratitude to those who have cheered me on: Stephen Roethle, Matt Keyser, Jennifer Kalior, Linda Post, Mary Thompson, Gail Barton, Karol Roethle, Anita Mitchell, and Helen Levison.