The Guardian of Threshold

by A. A. Volts

  “This is your last warning!” said Mrs. Barnes as books started to rattle in place. Some even floated off their shelves as if getting ready to be thrown at Phasma. They all emanated a bright and powerful glow.

  “This isn’t over. I’ll be back,” said Phasma, then he slowly turned around and vanished into the ground.

  I had many questions for Mrs. Barnes, but I felt as if a giant magnet was pulling me. I tried in vain to hold on to something. I was immediately pulled back into my body at great speed, passing through bookshelves, walls, people, and whatever else stood between my physical body and me.

  I opened my eyes, startled to find Jonas shaking me so hard that the astral projection book I had been holding fell onto the ground, landing with a loud thud.

  “Sorry, mate, you were snoozing,” said Jonas.

  “Not to mention snoring loudly,” added Carla, to my embarrassment.

  “It happened again,” I said. “He was… here.” I looked all around to make sure he was gone. “He was right there,” I said, pointing toward the window. “He pushed me against that wall. My back still hurts.”

  “The way you were sitting, no wonder your back hurts,” said Jonas.

  “No, it’s from when he pushed me,” I insisted.

  “Come on, let’s see it,” said Jonas. “Something like that is bound to leave a mark.”

  I lifted the back of my shirt so Jonas could check, but I didn’t think he would find anything.

  “Holy cow! That’s huge,” said Jonas.

  “What is it?” said Carla as she got up.

  “Wow, it is huge,” confirmed Carla as she lightly touched my back. Her hands and skin were like an instant anesthetic.

  “I want to see it… can someone please take a picture?” I asked.

  “One second,” said Jonas, reaching for his phone.

  “Here, see, it’s not that bad,” said Jonas, not sounding very reassuring.

  Jonas handed me his phone, and I was shocked at what I saw: my shoulder blade was covered with different shades of purple, and my back was swollen.

  “No wonder this thing hurts like hell,” I said. The pain actually appeared to be increasing in intensity.

  “How did this happen?” asked Carla.

  “I told you, Phasma pushed me from here to that wall over there and I banged my back on the wall. Yesterday he hurt my shoulder,” I explained.

  “Are you all right? Do you want to go to the hospital?” asked Carla.

  “Nah, I’m fine, just a bit sore,” I replied.

  “Those are some nasty bruises,” Jonas added.

  “I don’t understand, the book said that astral travel is completely safe.”

  “Not safe at all, at least not for you, I would say by the looks of it,” said Jonas.

  “Everything I read on the subject so far says that nothing in the astral realm affects the physical realm,” said Carla, looking confused. “Something else must be going on here.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s going, you’re being haunted by a ghost,” said Jonas, scared.

  “Ah, look who is saying ghost now,” said Carla.

  “I already told you a ghost is mean while a spirit isn’t,” said Jonas.

  We continued the rest of our research in silence.

  At precisely 5:45 p.m., Jane Olstein walked into the computer room to announce that the library would be closing in less than fifteen minutes and to suggest that we should wrap up everything as quickly as possible. If you asked me, I would have said that Jane was too scared to stay at the library a minute longer than she had to.

  Because the afternoon flew by, we were all scrambling to print as much reading material as we could.

  “I’ll be right back,” said Carla, getting up and heading toward the library hall.

  “Where are you going?” asked Jonas.

  “I’ll be right back,” Carla replied, not looking back.

  “I wonder where she’s going,” said Jonas, getting off his chair.

  “I don’t know, probably to the restroom,” I said, shrugging.

  Ten minutes passed before Carla returned to the computer room carrying a thick, old book with her.

  “What’s that?” asked Jonas.

  “It’s a book.”

  “I know that. What kind?” replied Jonas.

  “The Art and Practice of Astral Travel,” Carla responded softly.

  “Not you too,” said Jonas, cringing.

  “If I’m going to try this, I want to make sure that I’m at least a bit prepared for what I may encounter,” replied Carla as she threw some paper scraps in the trash.

  “Guys, the snow is getting really thick out there, maybe we should go,” I suggested.

  “Wow, that’s got to be way over six inches of snow already,” said Jonas, also looking through the window.

  “Just give me a few seconds, I have to email myself something,” said Carla as she sat back at her computer.

  “Hurry up, I’m getting hungry,” said Jonas.

  “Why, are you afraid of Mrs. Barnes’s ghost?” I asked to mess with him.

  “I’m not afraid. I’m just tired, we’ve been here all day,” said Jonas.

  “I’ve seen her, you know?” I said.

  “First of all, she’s a spirit and not a ghost, and second of all, I’m not scared of anything,” said Jonas, trying to sound braver than he actually was—at least his reputation and track record showed otherwise.

  “Thanks, my dear, how kind of you to defend us spirits,” said Mrs. Barnes as she floated out of the wall, gliding gently toward us just a few inches above the ground.

  “Ah… uh… no problem,” said Jonas, stuttering. He looked like someone who had seen a ghost, but at least he was able to talk, which was an improvement over the previous night.

  “Ah… did I forget to tell you that Mrs. Barnes recommended me this book?” said Carla, smiling and apparently enjoying the panicked look on Jonas’s face.

  “So you know each other?” I asked, puzzled.

  “We just met outside when I went to find a book about the astral realm. Mrs. Barnes was very helpful,” said Carla, still smiling.

  “Don’t be scared, Jonas.” Then Mrs. Barnes turned to me. “Mark, remember to be yourself, your true self, especially when you astral project.”

  “Is Phasma gone?” I asked.

  “For now, but he’s sure to come back,” replied Mrs. Barnes.

  “By the way, thanks for intervening today,” I said.

  “No problem, just know that I won’t always be there to protect you. You have a rather unusual connection with him that is affecting your physical body, as you found out today. So it’s imperative that you exercise extreme caution, because if you get hurt enough in the astral realm your physical body can perish as a result,” explained Mrs. Barnes.

  “Will that happen to us as well?” asked Jonas, finally regaining the ability to speak.

  “I don’t think so, but only time will tell. Mark’s bond with Phasma is too strong. It’s not quite how things are supposed to work. Just know that I’m trying to figure out how to help you guys. I’ll let you guys know as soon as I know more. Oh, and don’t forget to be there for each other when the time comes,” finished Mrs. Barnes just before she dissolved into thin air.

  “Where did she go?” asked Jonas, perplexed.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Perhaps she went back to the astral realm.”

  Unfortunately, Jane Olstein walked in just as we looked at each other in shock.

  “Not again,” said Jane. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. Come on, let’s go.”

  I shut off the computers as we all exited the room. I figured it was the least I could do; besides, I had a feeling that if I didn’t, Jane was going to ask me to anyway.

  “The hairs on the back of my neck are still up,” whispered Jonas as we walked to the front of the library.

  “Mine too,” added Carla. “But remember, it wasn’t a ghost, it was spirit.”
/>   “You guys haven’t seen anything yet,” I said, trying to prepare them.

  “She doesn’t scare me,” said Carla. “She strikes me as a sweet old lady.”

  “How do we know that she’s on our side?” asked Jonas.

  “I guess we don’t, we’ll just have to find out,” Carla whispered.

  We all walked to the front door, including Jane. At first I thought she was escorting us out since it wasn’t six o’clock yet, but apparently she wasn’t about to stay the last few minutes alone inside the library because she walked out with us, her key on hand ready to lock the door.

  “Have a good weekend,” said Jane as she slipped and almost fell on the snow-covered sidewalk.

  Once she got to her car, she opened the door and hopped inside, closing and locking the door quickly. I wondered how she was going to see the road with her windshield covered in snow.

  She must have realized it also, because she timidly came out of the car, opened the trunk, took out a snow and ice scraper, and started to frantically clean the snow off the windshield.

  “I think she’s lost it,” said Jonas quietly. I was thinking the same thing.

  “She could at least turn her car and heater on to help melt the snow,” I said as we started to walk back.

  As we walked, we had fun kicking snow at each other, although I suspected that Jonas and Carla were having slightly more fun than I was because they were better dressed for the extreme weather conditions. Besides, my shoulder and back still hurt.

  It wasn’t long before the twins decided they wanted to throw snowballs at each other. Even though I expressed my disinterest in the idea, the second snowball rushed toward me without mercy.

  I felt like swearing loudly as the snowball hit me, but I opted for revenge instead. So I reached for the ground and packed the most massive snowball I had ever made, then I put all my strength into throwing it at Jonas’s head.

  Much to my dismay, I hit Carla. But in my defense, she walked into it.

  Embarrassed and ashamed, I rushed over to help her, but as soon as I got close enough, I saw her bright smile, a smile so warm that I was surprised the snow around her didn’t melt.

  I realized her trick too late, as she jumped on top of me and pushed my head against the snowy sidewalk and proceeded to throw snow all over my face.

  “Okay… you win,” I said, frozen but unable to hide my happiness. Although I still hurt, I wasn’t about to say anything. I wanted the moment to last as long as possible.

  After a few seconds, we got up. I looked at Jonas and saw him staring at us.

  “Are we renting a movie tonight?” I asked to change the subject and lighten the mood.

  “I’m not going to the video store, it’s too cold. Besides, video stores are so old school. Let’s just order something online,” said Carla.

  “That works for me, I even have enough money left to order us dinner. How does pizza sound?” I said as we continued down the now-deserted Main Street.

  “Sounds good to me, as long as we order something meaty,” replied Jonas.

  “Sure, I’ll get two pizzas, one cheese and one pepperoni,” I offered.

  “Yep, hot pizza sounds really good, especially on a day like this,” said Carla, shivering.

  “What do you guys say we meet around 7:30 p.m.?” I asked as I moved my arms to relieve my shoulder pain.

  “That sounds good, that’ll give me enough time to take a hot bath,” said Carla as I immediately imagined her in the bathtub.

  “Just don’t make it a half-hour ordeal,” said Jonas, sounding bossy and bringing me back to reality.

  “Where did Mom and Dad go?” asked Carla when she noticed that their car wasn’t in the driveway.

  “I think they went to Aunt Flores’s house, at least that’s what I heard them talking about,” replied Jonas.

  “See you soon, Mark,” said Carla as she smiled at me and went inside her house.

  “I’m counting on you, mate, to help me choose a good movie for tonight,” said Jonas before he went inside.

  “Depends on what you call good,” I said as I made my way to the side door of my house. After all, I didn’t trust our crooked porch when it snowed as much as it had. One of these days that porch was going to fall down, of that I was sure.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE PLAN

  When I reached the side door, I twiddled with the house keys, trying to find the keyhole in complete darkness. Since we rarely used this entrance, the lights were off.

  When I was finally able to open the door, I reached for the light switch and flicked it up and down several times, but nothing happened.

  The power was out, but thankfully the old and faithful oil heater was still going strong.

  I walked into the dark house, closing the door behind me. There wasn’t a soul in sight, yet I knew I wasn’t alone.

  I could once again feel his presence. It was as if he was beside me, purposefully waiting for the right opportunity to strike again.

  I felt unnerved and all alone in our old two-story house. Then it occurred to me that I didn’t have to stumble in the dark. Since I had my cell with me, I turned it on and used it as a temporary flashlight. It would have to do for now, but if I wanted to have power left for emergencies, I would have to go get the real flashlight from the basement—even though I really didn’t feel like venturing down there, not because it was dark or because I was all alone, but simply because the basement was filled with my mother’s old stuff.

  My dad couldn’t bring himself to throw out anything that belonged to my mother, so everything she had ever owned was stored in our basement. I would rather take a trip to hell than go into the basement. In fact, it had been years since I last went down there, but if the power didn’t return soon I wouldn’t have a choice.

  After waiting about fifteen minutes, I decided to get it over with.

  I carefully tiptoed down the basement stairs, trying very hard not to fall, which only served to increase my sense of dread. I kept trying to convince myself there was nothing to fear.

  Once in the basement, I managed to find the fuse box, which housed the flashlight, with relative ease. Thankfully, it was dark so I couldn’t see my mother’s things.

  Although I had the flashlight in my hand, I didn’t dare turn it on yet. I preferred to make my way upstairs in the dark rather than see my mother’s old stuff.

  “Ouch!” I screamed, scaring myself as my big toe hit something.

  I let out a scream of panic and pain and looked down to realize that I’d just kicked an old battery-operated fire truck from my younger and happier days.

  I wasn’t normally this thin-blooded, but the past few days had made me anxious and nervous. Something within me compelled me to understand what was going on.

  I’d always been like this: if something scared me, I needed to understand it before I could get over it. The more scared I felt, the greater was the need to overcome it. I had to conquer my fears until they either vanished completely or became an integral part of me.

  Such had been the case when my father took me for my first flying lesson. I was thirteen years old. At the time I’d agreed, thinking it would be just like flying in a commercial airliner, but I quickly found out that I couldn’t have been more wrong. When the pilot turned on the small four-seater Piper Arrow airplane, the whole console started to shake and rattle, and my first thought was that we wouldn’t survive the flight.

  As soon as the airplane took off, I felt ill and turned all shades of green. That’s when the pilot asked me if I was all right and if I wanted to go back. Although I was scared, I didn’t want to accept his offer. He even tried to have me fly the airplane as a last-minute effort to make me feel better, but it didn’t work.

  Not sure of what else he could do, the pilot contacted the tower and asked permission to land, worrying the controller on duty because we had just taken off.

  It wasn’t long before he received clearance to land. However, he was instructed to
perform the maneuver quickly because a jet was landing right behind us. Little did I know that quick maneuvers in airplanes meant fast and sharp-angled turns.

  After a few excruciating minutes, we finally landed safely, but not without damage—my ego and pride had been badly bruised, especially when I had to walk back to the flight school building not even fifteen minutes after we’d taken off for what was supposed to be an hour-long lesson.

  Everyone in the flight school asked us what had happened. I shyly replied that I had gotten scared and asked the instructor to land.

  However, even before I’d landed, I had made up my mind that I was going to overcome the fear. That I was going to be victorious, no matter the cost. So I wasn’t surprised when I walked to the appointment desk and asked for an appointment for the very next morning. Everyone else looked puzzled and surprised, including my dad.

  I had decided that I would get back in the air as many times as I needed to overcome my fear of heights. And for that week and the week after, I attended flight school every single day and flew for at least one hour, sometimes two.

  In the end, I had almost twenty hours of flight time, and my dad was completely broke after having to pay one hundred dollars per hour for two weeks. It was worth it because I’d learned to love flying and the weightless sensation, but most importantly, I overcame my fear.

  Although my toe hurt, I ran up the basement stairs. When I reached the top, I closed the door and locked it behind me, as if that would prevent my mother’s memories from oozing out into the rest of the house.

  With the flashlight in hand, I grabbed my book from the top of the table and went upstairs to get into some dry and perhaps warmer clothes.

  Just as I was passing through the Sorrows Hallway, the power came back on and I sped up so I wouldn’t have to look at any of the other pictures.

  After I got in my room, I felt relieved. At least now I would be able to take a warm shower and relax by the TV while I waited for Carla and Jonas to show up for dinner.

  I wasn’t even ten minutes into my shower when I heard the doorbell ring. It had to be Jonas. I hated his bad habit of showing up for things way too early—he tended to do that every time he was bored.