Seeking Hope: Book 2 in the Seeking Saga

by Becky Poirier

  “Don’t worry about it. I have a busy morning as it is. We’ll talk later.” The jealous part of me wanted to add that, ‘if he didn’t want to talk to me this morning, then I certainly didn’t want to talk to him now.’ But I didn’t say it. It sounded stupid even to me. Still the anger seething beneath my skin, was a living force of its own and he could see it. The stress of the flashback, along with Michelle’s taunts were putting me well over the edge. If I didn’t get away and find somewhere to fume alone, I was bound to blow my stack. “I have to get ready for work.” I said trying to push past him. The bathhouse was only a few yards away. If I could make a mad dash to it, then I’d be in the safety of the showers and able to drown away the sorrow.

  “You don’t have to get ready for work…not yet. There’s no rush.” Sofia had said the same thing to me. I stared back at him confused. He didn’t meet my gaze. This was making me even more uncomfortable, than him seeking out my sister this morning. “It’s just that…well after what happened…” He didn’t need to finish. I didn’t want him to finish.

  I put my hand up. “I get it. I’ve scared you off. There’s no need to explain,” I said through tight lips. The tears were so close now. But I wasn’t about to let them fall. I tried to side-step him again, but he was faster than me and his arms wrapped around me. It was a different feeling from the previous night’s embrace. This one was stronger, fiercer. This one melted all the anger and fear in me in an instant. He didn’t need to say the words aloud for me to know that he felt it. He loved me. The look in his eyes was enough to push aside all doubt. I relaxed into his arms, allowing a few silent tears to roll down my cheeks.

  He gently rubbed my back as I pulled myself deeper into his arms. The warmth of his body filled me, despite the chill outside. “I’m not so easily scared off,” he whispered. I half chuckled. “I just…” What was he so afraid to tell me? I looked up into his eyes. I could see a little bit of trepidation in them. “You scared me last night and not because I’m afraid of you, but rather for you. I was so worried about you, that I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

  I could see that now. The dark circles under his eyes were so apparent. If I hadn’t been so mad, I would have noticed them before. His whole body looked drained. “What are you trying to say?” I asked apprehensively. He wasn’t breaking up with me, but whatever he had to say wasn’t good news either.

  “I was up all night trying to think of how to help you and I realized that what you’re suffering from is PTSD.” I looked at him confused. I’d never heard of that before. “It’s Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” he quickly clarified. “If we lived in a normal world, you would have been diagnosed before and gotten help for it.”

  I pulled away from him, not because I didn’t want his touch. I still wanted to feel his steady heartbeat. But I was still trying to figure out his line of thought. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder sounded like it fit what I was going through, but I didn’t see how he thought he could fix it. “I’m pretty sure most of the human race is suffering from that. You’d be incredibly lucky to find one person out there that doesn’t suffer from night terrors. It’s just life. And I deal with it, like everyone else does. It’s nothing you can solve.”

  “I can’t…but I think I know someone who could help.”

  “Who?” I was pretty sure I already knew that answer before I asked the question.

  “Pastor Lewis.”

  “Because he has experience in treating this Post Traumatic…thingy,” I said with frustration. I sighed deeply, allowing the breath to calm me. My heart was racing, and I could feel the frustration rising in me again. “Jack, I get that you’re trying to help. But no one can. There are no more psychiatrists and councillors. And even if there were, how would they help with this. Life is terrifying and no amount of shrinking can fix that.” My dad always hated the word shrink, which was why the rest of our family used the word as often as possible.

  Jack placed his hands gently on my shoulders as he locked his eyes on mine. Unlike before, he was no longer worried about talking to me about this anymore. “You need to talk to someone. You can’t hold it in forever.”

  “I’ve been doing a good job of it so far,” I retorted, though I didn’t believe what I was saying.

  “No, you haven’t,” April’s voice softly came from behind Jack. She moved around him so I could see her. I didn’t know how long she’d been standing behind us, but judging from the rosiness of her cheeks, it had been a while.”

  “And you’re the picture of mental health,” I replied with irritation. I didn’t want to pick a fight with her, or with Jack. But they were both really starting to get on my nerves. “Why don’t you go talk to the pastor? You’re just as messed up as I am.”

  She sighed and nodded. “You’re right and that’s why I’m going to see him this afternoon. But this morning is your turn and you’re not getting out of it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  There was no getting out of it. I’d argued with the both of them for another half an hour, before conceding. The only reason I gave in, was to make them shut-up and because I figured if I backed out, April would too. She needed this more than I did. Jack had offered to walk me to the pastor’s cabin; but I’d declined his offer. Normally we made plans to meet up at lunch, but I didn’t bother with that this time. I still loved him, still wanted to be with him. Right now, I just needed space from him and April. They were both looking at me like I was this weak, fragile thing, ready to break at any moment. I hated that they looked at me like that. I didn’t want or need anyone protecting me anymore.

  Pastor Lewis had been expecting me. He’d set up some cushions on the floor near the fireplace, which had a small fire going. His place was a lot different when he wasn’t conducting church services. It was quite messy, with books scattered everywhere, clothes hanging up to dry by the mantel and his bed unmade. He didn’t seem to care to put up pretences with me, but when I’d come for service that one time, his place had been immaculate.

  The pastor handed me a cup of tea, not bothering to ask me if I wanted any. Normally I wasn’t a fan, but I’d been out in the cold a long time before I’d managed to hit the showers. Then came straight to his place without bothering to dry my hair. Until the hot liquid ran down my throat, I hadn’t realized just how frozen I was. It was soothing and almost made me relax.

  “Camomile?” I asked. He nodded. “My mom used to make us drink this when we couldn’t sleep.”

  “Did it help?”

  “No, it really just made me get up to pee more.” He laughed. He had a hearty laugh, deeper than Jack’s, but equally as pleasant. If I weren’t so stressed about what he’d been told about…why I was coming, I probably would have relaxed instantly. He had that presence about him. Today all I could think about was just what Jack had said. It was already embarrassing enough with just me, Jack and April knowing about what had occurred. I couldn’t imagine telling anyone else. I didn’t want to. I didn’t even want to talk about it with Jack or April. All I wanted was to pretend the whole thing never happened.

  Several minutes passed, in what felt to me like awkward silence as I sipped at my tea. I could feel Pastor Lewis’ eyes on me, though he kept quiet just watching me as I tried my best to avoid eye contact. My dad used to do the same thing. With him, I knew he’d been trained to pick up on body cues. I doubted the pastor had the same training, but that didn’t mean he was blind to all the cues I was giving off.

  “Are you just trying to let an acceptable amount of time go by before taking off, in order to make them think you actually talked?” That wasn’t a half bad idea. I was sad I hadn’t thought of it myself.

  “It’s probably what April will do,” I replied after a couple more sips.

  “Why do you think she’d do that?”

  My dad used to do that too. Answering a question with a question. I’d been too young to find it annoying back then, but I really hated it now. I sighed as I placed my empty teacup on the floor.
/>   “Because this is a waste of time for both of us. You can’t help us or anyone else.”

  “Why do you think that?” he asked sadly. I placed my face in my hands and shook my head.

  “You’re not a psychiatrist and even if you were, there’s not enough therapy in the world to get anyone through this life. All that we can hope for, is to stave off the insanity for as long as we can.”

  “That’s a pretty sad view of the world you have there.”

  “Like your view is any better. I remember your sermon. According to you, this is our fault, we deserve it. I think that view is personally worse than just having this crap happen.”

  He stared at the fireplace thoughtfully. The fire gave off a couple loud pops as one of the logs crumbled into little more than ash. I tried not to jump at the sound, but it reminded me too much of that night at the gate as gunfire rang out, killing people who used to belong to this village. They were just nameless soldiers to me, but to most people here, they’d been known and cared about. A memorial service had been held at the dining hall, but I didn’t attend. It was partly my fault they were dead.

  “I think you misunderstood my sermon. I was talking about the human race in general. We’ve done a lot of awful things in the past and we’re not necessarily doing a great job now. But I think you already know this. That’s why Jack wanted you to see me.”

  I felt the sting of tears forming in my eyes as I stared intently at the fire. My whole body felt tense. This wasn’t any of his business. Why couldn’t he and the others just leave it alone? I was better off not even thinking about it, let alone talking about it.

  “Talking about it won’t change what happened. You can’t go back in time and undue it. So why not just leave it in the past?” I finally said. I looked up into his eyes as a tear escaped, running down my cheek. I quickly brushed it away with my sleeve.

  “No, you can’t change the past, but you can’t run from it either. Before now, that’s all you did, was run and that worked. You had no time to dwell on what was because you were too busy surviving. But now it’s different. Isn’t it?” I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

  Running wasn’t an option anymore and the longer I stayed here, the worse it got for me. Maybe it was the same way for April. Maybe that was why she wanted to leave so badly. On the road, after she lost Andy, she shut down, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t let the pain in. Here I noticed small cracks in her armor. We were both breaking down, which was kind of weird, given now we were safe verses before we were in constant danger.

  “So then,” I sighed, “what do you think I should do about it?”

  “I think a start is to talk about it. Talk about everything. We can figure out how to deal with things better if you’re open and honest.”

  I was so used to holding everything in. Jack was the first person I’d opened up to here and even that was difficult for me. And I was in love with Jack. Pastor Lewis was still a stranger to me. The only reason I finally relented was because I wanted to be with Jack, and I was afraid that if I couldn’t figure this out, that I’d lose him. Even I recognized that many times I reacted quite immaturely to situations with Jack, and that wasn’t like me. I was the one with the level head, but with him, I think I felt secure enough to finally feel.

  So, I talked. For nearly two hours. Once I started, it was surprising how easily the words spilled out. I told him about everything, from being separated from the rest of my family to my attack, to losing Andy. And for the first time since I told Jack, I talked about my vision. The one I had when I nearly died. I wanted to know if the pastor thought it was real. There was a part of me that was desperate to know that there was something more than this life and that those we lost weren’t gone forever. I’d been questioning my belief in an afterlife a lot lately.

  The pastor sat and listened thoughtfully, never interrupting. When I finally stopped, it was like this weight had been lifted off my chest and I could breathe again. My face was stained with tears that I hadn’t bothered to wipe away. I just didn’t care anymore.

  “Do you think he was real?” I asked softly, choking on a sob.

  “It doesn’t really matter if I think he was real. What matters is if you think he was real?”

  I half chuckled. “You and my father would have gotten a long really well. Your conversations would have been weird, always answering each other’s questions with questions. It would have been quite entertaining to watch.” He laughed.

  “It’s an old habit. My wife hated it too.” He sighed as he looked up at the mantel. There on the ledge, was a tiny frame with a picture of a woman in a wedding dress. He stood up and pulled the picture down to look at it. “You’re not the only one with ghosts you know?”

  “How..?” I started to ask but stopped myself. It was a rude question. You didn’t just ask people how they lost someone now a days. If someone volunteered that information, that was fine, but you never asked.

  “She was bitten just a week into the outbreak. We were in a quarantine zone. No one was getting in or out. When she got infected, we simply hung up a white sheet out our window and waited for help that never came. She sensed the change coming on. I think she was afraid she’d hurt me and our daughter, so she took her own life.” He swallowed hard. His eyes watered but no tears fell. I hadn’t known he was married or had a child. And I didn’t bother asking about his daughter. She’d obviously been lost along the way, or she’d be here. There were no pictures of her, but there was of his wife, and I wondered if it was the daughter who’d thought to grab the picture of her mother in her wedding dress. I’d wanted to take our family pictures too, but April wouldn’t let me. There was no space for nonessential items. That’s why I’d clung so long to my dead cell phone.

  We remained quiet for awhile, both of us thinking and then I said, “I want to believe he was real.”

  “That’s a start,” he smiled as he placed the photo back on the mantel, sitting back down on the floor. “Another step would be to tell your sister. It was what your father asked you to do.”

  “She won’t believe me.”

  “She might surprise you. I think you two have a habit of underestimating each other. You’re both trying so hard to be strong for the other, that you’re fighting these battles on your own, when you could be working on them together. I won’t tell her what you’ve said today, but I hope you will. And it wouldn’t be a bad idea for the two of you to meet with me together sometime.”

  I told him I’d think about it. I wasn’t so sure I had the guts to say any of this to April. She needed to hear it, but I didn’t know if she was capable of listening. The pastor was right. She often underestimated me and maybe I also did the same thing with her. Both of us were so busy trying to protect each other when all we really did was make things worse for ourselves.

  When I left the pastor’s cabin, it was nearly lunchtime. I had no appetite and no desire to be around anyone else at the moment. I was no longer angry with Jack or April for insisting on the counselling, but that didn’t mean I was ready to face them either. Going back to my cabin and resting before my kid’s knitting class sounded like a great idea, but I figured either Jack or April would come looking for me there when I didn’t show up at lunch. I decided just to find somewhere quiet in the cold to sit alone with my thoughts.

  I wandered around the back of the village to stay out of people’s view. I hoped people would be too busy to notice me and report. My sister was sure to be worried. It was probably selfish of me, but I didn’t care how worried she got. It had nothing to do with anger, but rather exhaustion. I was always so worried about protecting her feelings, that I often went against what I wanted. Making a stand and saying I wanted to stay here, was the first time I’d ever really made a demand based on how I felt. Before, it was always about making her happy. Making her proud. One thing I got out of my counselling session was that I needed to stop worrying so much about what other people felt and start focusing on myself for once.

  I w
alked without any specific destination in mind and found myself at the hot spring Jack had taken me to, awhile back. It was even more beautiful than before. All around the spring there was a beautiful blanket of wintery frost covering the brush and trees. The spring itself, still steamed against the cold air as the waterfall trickled down slower than before, but still just as beautiful. I wiped some snow off one of the stones and sat down, just staring at the slow trickle of water from the fall.

  There was something so peaceful about this place, even more so now than before. There were no bird songs. It was almost silent, except for the steady sound of water falling gently into the pool. I wasn’t used to so much quiet, to having the ability to just think and feel.

  Everything I talked about with the pastor came flooding back. Having the opportunity to stress about the past and the future, was such an odd thing for me. But it was a blessing in a way. At least I had the possibility of a future. Whatever Michelle had cooked up to get between Jack and I, couldn’t possibly be worse than facing the monsters every day of my life. She was nothing compared to the terrors that lay in wait in the outside world. I made the decision not to let her get to me. I’d talk to Jack about it later for reassurance, but no matter what she did, I wasn’t going anywhere. No matter what April decided, I was staying here. Talking to the pastor had settled everything in my mind. I wasn’t leaving this place to go back to living in constant fear. I was pretty sure the fear of returning to that was what had been causing me so much anxiety and could probably be blamed for my flashback as well.

  Pastor Lewis hadn’t been too keen on necessarily helping me get past the physical barrier the traumatic memory had caused. He’d much rather Jack and I waited, though I think he held no illusions that people did that anymore. Jack told me there’d been a couple of weddings in the village since he came here, but they were few and far between. People just didn’t see the point in it anymore. Not when life was so fragile. As for me, I’d given up on the idea of being married a long time ago and was happy to just be with Jack for as long as we had. And I really wanted to be with him and the fear of having another flashback was nearly crippling. The pastor had reluctantly, given me some tips on how to avoid another incident. He said perhaps me being in control of the situation might help, seeing as when I was attacked, I had no control.