Shepherds: Awakening

by Damian Connolly

  I need to find my father, I need to find my father, I need to find my father! She bunched her eyes shut in order to focus. It had the added benefit of hiding what was approaching her. Goosebumps rose on her arms and neck. Bloody move!

  “Hey kiddo, you finally made- are you all right?”

  She opened her eyes. She was in a small, cosy room, curtains drawn, firelight dancing off one of the walls. At the sound of her father’s familiar voice she exhaled slowly. He was sitting calmly, relaxing in an armchair with a paper on his knees. The anger she’d been holding for him rose up in her. She opened her mouth to let fly when she was interrupted.

  “Should she be here?”

  “Yes, it’s fine,” her father said, addressing the other man in the room that Aisling hadn’t noticed. She blinked at him, her mouth still open. He was tall, with greying hair, and had a familiar look.

  “Does she always look like she’s catching flies?”

  She shut her mouth and shot a glare at him.

  “Possibly. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

  She shifted her glare to her father. Long time indeed! It galled her that he could be so blasé about it.

  “In any case, how much longer?”

  “Shortly.”

  The man started pacing back and forth, impatient. Evidently, it wasn’t the first time he’d asked that question.

  Her mind finally made the connection with his face. “You’re that actor guy!” she blurted out.

  He stopped and looked at her with a sardonic smile. “That’s me. That actor guy. It’s not like I won an Oscar or anything. Actor Guy, at your service.” He gave a mocking bow.

  “I don’t watch many movies,” she protested weakly.

  “That much is obvious.” He turned to her father. “How much longer? I’m a busy man.”

  “Shortly, and you’re not any longer,” her father replied in the same calm tone as before.

  That seemed to rattle the actor, as he looked about to say something else, shook his head, and resumed pacing. He was muttering to himself.

  “I was - I am - a good man. I’ve lived a good life. Surely that’s worth something?”

  Her father watched him, saying nothing. It didn’t seem like he needed to as it sounded like the actor was trying to convince himself more than anything. She moved closer to her father.

  “What the hell is going on?” she hissed.

  “Sit down and watch,” he said, indicating a seat beside his own. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  “We need to talk,” she insisted, “about what happened the other night. And other things.”

  “All in good time. Sit, watch, listen.” She couldn’t remember her father ever being this Zen before. It was infuriating.

  She threw herself into the chair, chewing on what she was going to say. It was a comfy chair, she had to give him that. She waited, while her father read the paper in his lap, his feet up on a footstool, and the actor paced back and forth, occasionally pulling back the curtains to glance outside. That one didn’t stop muttering to himself, though after a while, she stopped trying to understand what he was saying. He seemed to be arguing with himself, or with someone that wasn’t there.

  “OK, what are we doing here?” she finally said, exasperated.

  “Patience,” her father replied, not even bothering to look up. She fumed silently.

  Abruptly, her father folded the paper and slowly stood up. “It’s time.”

  The actor stopped mid-stride. “Are you sure?” Despite his earlier restlessness, he seemed reluctant all of a sudden.

  Aisling’s father turned to her. “Do you feel it?”

  She opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about, then stopped. There was something different in the air. A feeling of readiness that had built up so slowly she hadn’t realised it was happening until just now, when it peaked. She nodded.

  Her father smiled at her. He turned back to the actor. “It’s time.”

  “Okay. All right. Let’s do this then.” He was wiping his hands on his trousers, as if he had sweaty palms. Aisling wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it. The sense of importance grew, and she could feel a tinge of urgency join it.

  Her father walked over to the front door; the only door, now that she thought about it. He stood in front of it for a moment, gripped the knob, and frowned, obviously concentrating. Though it was an ordinary door, there was a visible effort as he opened it. The tendons on his forearms stood out, but Aisling was sure there was another side to it; a mental side that was possibly an altogether more difficult endeavour.

  Behind the door, there was nothing.

  The only light came from whatever spilled out from the room. It illuminated flat, grey sand, stretching from the threshold of the door, to the inky blackness beyond.

  She shivered. She was at the same time curious, captivated, and frightened. She could sense a terrible finality to crossing that brink. She looked over at the actor. His face had completely changed. It had brightened up and a great smile was forming on his face.

  What the hell?

  “What do you see?” her father asked him, gently smiling.

  “They’re all there. They’re all…I mean, I didn’t expect them to turn up, but they - oh God, there’s Charlie. Hi, Chuck!” Tears rolled down his face. Aisling looked back at the grey drabness beyond the door. Had the sight of it turned his mind? What was he looking at? “They’re all there. They’re all…I mean, I didn’t expect them to turn up, but they - oh God, there’s Charlie. Hi, Chuck!” Tears rolled down his face. Aisling looked back at the grey drabness beyond the door. Had the sight of it turned his mind? What was he looking at?

  “Do you want to go through?” her father asked.

  “Yes, yes, sorry, I’m keeping you, oh, I didn’t think…” He scrubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, then went up to her father and hugged him. “Thank you,” he said, thickly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  He walked through the doorway, his legs shaking a little. Beyond, the sand crunched quietly under his feet, but he continued talking and greeting whoever he could see there. He kept on, eventually walking out of the pool of light cast by the door. Her father shut it and turned to her, expectant.

  “Wait, what just happened? Where’d he go?” she asked.

  “Come with me,” he said with a smile. “Let’s talk.”

  He pulled the door open again. She blurted out a protest, hand out to stop him, but the door simply opened to the garden path outside. It gave no hint of having ever done otherwise.

  He went through and she scrambled out of her chair to follow him.

  7

  “What happened back there? Where did he go?” she said, hurrying to catch up. They were walking along a rough dirt path that almost wasn’t there. There was no moon, but the stars provided more than enough light, bathing the landscape in hues of blues and purples. In any other time and place, it would’ve been pleasant.

  Her father turned to her. “As to where he went, I don’t know. What happened back there? You were there. What do you think happened?” What a wonderfully obtuse answer that told her nothing.

  “I don’t know! We sat around doing nothing, then you opened the door, but instead of being where we are now, there was just dead space behind it. Nothing. It scared me,” she admitted lamely.

  “It scares me too, kiddo.”

  “Then how come he didn’t see it? Who was he talking to?”

  “Everybody sees something different. I guess he saw a lot of people that were special to him.”

  This made no sense. “But where did he go?!”

  Her father stopped and studied her. “We,” he said, pointing to them both, “are Shepherds.”

  Aisling stared at him. What did her name have to do with anything?

  “We open the door,” he continued, “between the living world, and whatever comes next.”

  Her mouth was open. She shut it, unable to think how to respond.
<
br />   “That’s what you saw back there,” he said, gesturing the way they came. “People find themselves here when they’re about to die, when it’s approaching their time. It’s our job to open the door for them then.”

  “Hold up, hold up,” she said, stopping her father. This was too much to take in. Baby steps. “Where is here, even? Where are we?”

  “I call it Limbo, but that’s not quite right. I don’t know the actual name, and every other Shepherd I’ve met has called it something different. Limbo’s a good a name for it as any.”

  It was like a hidden world was unveiling in front of her. “There are others like us?”

  He smiled at her. “Of course. We can hardly do this all on our own. Everyone you see here,” he said, indicating all the people still walking around, talking with each other, despite the hour, “are either those that are about to pass through, those who have missed their time, or those that for one reason or another, decided not to.”

  “Why would they decide to do that?”

  “Like I said, everybody sees something different. As Shepherds, we’ll only ever see the grey sands beyond the door, because it’s not open for us. It’s not our time. Everyone else…I guess it depends on what they believe, or what they think they deserve. Some don’t particularly like what they see on the other side.”

  “So they just wander around here? Until when?”

  “Until forever. Or until they’re finally consumed by the Shades.”

  At the mention, she realised that they were out in the open, and she moved quickly to her father’s arms; something she wouldn’t have thought she’d have done. But as she looked around, she could see none nearby. The people - the dead people - were walking around without their habitual parasites. They seemed happier.

  Her father smoothed her hair. “Don’t worry. While they can be trouble in large groups, they’re too afraid to attack normally. With you, they sensed that you were a Shepherd, but that you also didn’t know your powers, so they took advantage. What they get from others, they get ten times, a hundred times, over from us.”

  She thought back to the times she was attacked. It was true that each time it seemed like they were waiting for something before advancing. For her to do something.

  Other than flee, that was.

  “You know how to beat them. You saved me.”

  “And you’ll know too, soon enough. Once you do, I’d advise against seeking them out. It takes energy, and we’ve more important things to do.”

  “When they attacked me, it felt horrible.” She shuddered at the memory. “I was cold, and numb, and felt worthless. As if I should just give up and die.”

  Her father nodded. “They feed on your essence, as it were. What makes you who you are. Happiness goes, then warmth. Eventually, you become like those poor souls who seem like mere blurs, whispering what no-one can hear, knowing nothing but despair. For someone to choose not to pass through the door, they’re giving up themselves in the bargain. They don’t see the Shades, so thankfully they don’t know what’s happening to them, but it’s simply a matter of time. We can’t protect everyone.”

  “Where do the Shades come from?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never found out.” He sounded frustrated.

  She rested her head on her father’s shoulder. It was comforting, and right now, she needed comfort. What to make of it all? It was all so…surreal. And yet, how could she explain what she’d seen, what she’d been through? She thought of what her father had done, what she’d be able to do. Did she want to be responsible for delivering people to…what? The afterlife? It seemed a huge burden. To always be there at the right moment.

  She pushed out from him. “Hold on, you said those that have missed their time.”

  “Everybody has a time. Before that, they’re safe from the Shades. They can’t be touched as they’re not fully here. After…” He just shrugged.

  “So we have to find them before that time.”

  “Or they find us.” His face sobered. “What is it?”

  She felt cold. “Before you saved me, there was an old man. He wakened me, saying that I was the one he was looking for. Before that, I’d seen nobody, so he scared me, and I ran.”

  Her father had a pained expression, and her original thought was that he was disappointed that she’d dropped the ball already, but then she realised he was actually empathising with her. “Aisling…”

  “Is he…is he, wandering?” The full horror hit her. “Being eaten? Because of me?”

  Her father grabbed her arm as she turned to run, whether to look for the old man, or escape, she didn’t know. “Wait! You can do nothing for him now. I didn’t think it would happen so soon.”

  “So it’s like that, is it? Just leave him to slowly lose himself?” Inside, she cursed herself for her reaction. He’d just been trying to move on, and she, being her usual stupid self, had panicked.

  “I didn’t say that! I said that you could do nothing for him now. Once you’re trained, then maybe you can find him, and maybe you can deliver him. I don’t mean to be harsh, kiddo, but do you realise how many people are waiting on us, counting on us? There’s hundreds, maybe thousands of us around the world, and it’s still not enough. If you run off now, maybe you’ll find him, but then what? Can you open a door? Most likely you’re going to get surrounded by Shades, and I can’t be there every time. One person is not worth it, not for what we do. We’re worth more than one person.”

  “Then show me how! Show me how to open a door!”

  He threw his hands up in exasperation. “It’s not just as easy as that. You need training. You need control of yourself, mentally as well as physically. What we do takes energy. That energy comes from your body.

  “Right now, you come here when you sleep. But this is not a dream world, kiddo. You are not dreaming right now. You’re not even sleeping, and it looks like you haven’t slept in a good while. You need to take care of yourself if you want to be a Shepherd. It’s very easy to keep pushing yourself here - you don’t feel the strain you’re putting on your body. But if you don’t get some actual sleep, if you don’t eat, if you don’t treat your body right, it’s just going to give up on you. You’ll be here, and your body will die behind you, in the real world.

  “Let me train you,” he continued, a little less hotly. “Let me train you, and afterwards, you’re free to do what you want.” He took her by the shoulders. “But before any of that, you need some actual sleep.”

  He was right. Of course he was right. She felt alert here, but that only allowed her to realise how close she’d been to collapse.

  “Why me?” She asked, quietly. “Why us?”

  “I don’t know why we were originally chosen, I just know that it runs in the family. You can do it because I can. If you want to, of course. You still get a choice in it all.”

  That was the question. Do I want to? “Why do you do it?”

  He took a moment to answer. “Duty. Necessity. But mostly because, right at the end, you see people at their most naked, most truthful self. All the faces and lies we use to get us through the day fall away, and the true person steps up. And sometimes, it’s amazing.”

  He kissed her gently on the forehead. “Now, you need to sleep. Close your eyes.” She obliged, though a tad reluctant. “Look behind you.”

  She half-turned her head, eyes opening in confusion, and her father stopped her with a finger on the chin.

  “In your mind. Close your eyes.”

  This time, she turned in her mind and saw it. A door, standing open, with nothing but blackness behind.

  “Relax,” her father said, and she untensed. “It’s okay.”

  She mentally stepped through the door, and the last thing she heard was her father’s voice, fading rapidly.

  “Goodnight, kiddo.”

  She woke up the next morning, alone, but refreshed and sane. So it was all real. Wasn’t it? The niggling doubt remained until she turned on the radio while making herself breakf
ast.

  “David Black, the Oscar-winning actor best known for his role as Hubert in the film of the same name, passed away peacefully in his home last night after a short battle with cancer. Tributes have been pouring in this morning…”

  She thought of the man she’d met last night. Of the joy in his face as he passed through the door. I could do that.

  She glanced out the window, at the grey skies beyond, promising rain later. What would the sky look like right now in Limbo? Now that she knew about it, could she go back to a normal life?

  Screw that. She made the decision. She was going to live up to her name, and no matter what her father said, she was going to find that old man.

  She would bring him happiness.

  8

  It felt weird to be home on a school day. Now that she thought about it, it was probably the first day of school that she’d missed in her life. Her mother had left half of a French roll on the kitchen counter for her breakfast. Tucked under it was a hastily scrawled note:

  Hope you’re feeling better, dear - relax if you need to & we’ll talk when I get home, X

  Aisling did feel better. Her father’s admonishment played in her head, though. She needed to take better care of herself. She ate the roll with the remains of a pot of cream cheese from the fridge. Then she spent about two hours cleaning their small apartment. She’d found that a cluttered living space lead to a feeling of something unfinished in her mind. It didn’t need very much cleaning. They didn’t have very much, and both of them were tidy people, but just the routine of doing it eased her mind. She felt lighter when she finally finished. It was humble work, but there was still a degree of satisfaction to be had from a job well done.

  She decided it was time to get some exercise in her life. They had nowhere near enough money for a gym, but she could still do things the old fashioned way. She started with calisthenics, using her own bodyweight as resistance. The results were laughable, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through it until her muscles were trembling. No doubt she’d pay for it in the morning, but a start was a start, and she could build on it.