by Tyra Lynn
“I don’t know. I’m not sure what you mean.” This was making my head hurt. I liked it better when people just lived, died, and then went to heaven or hell.
“Say there’s a soul, and it could end up in a body born to rich and influential parents, or poor and abusive parents. If the body and soul are separate entities, then either could happen, and they would have different effects on the souls' perception of everything. A poor little girl, bad parents, turns to drugs, finds and marries an abusive man, has children, the cycle starts all over. Or a rich little girl, loved and cared for, marries a man of stature who loves her—you get the idea. Same soul, different lives.”
“Could that happen? Could something that drastically different happen to the same soul?” I thought for a moment. “Using your idea, what about stories of people who were born under the worst of circumstances, but rose above it all against the odds. Or the opposite, perfect upbringing, but turned into serial killers. I would think the soul would be unchangeable, no matter what ‘vessel’ it ended up in.”
“Good argument. I don’t know the answer, though. We don’t know when time ends, and as long as we are here and can travel then time goes on at least for a while, and farther than I can see. As long as it continues anything is possible.” He took my hand. “Animae implexus.” He whispered. “That’s what my Father said.”
“What does it mean?” I remembered it made Gabriel smile.
“Soul mates. That’s what it implies at least. It’s more accurate to say souls entwined, or wrapped around each other.” He wrapped his arms around me.
“Do you believe in such a thing?” I’d never thought about it, but I knew I believed in it. It’s why I searched for perfect, for fireworks.
“I do.” He whispered into my hair.
“Then why are you afraid?”
“Because they seldom find each other. People are too impatient and the body is a desperate vessel, always searching for something to make it feel useful.” He said.
“Then that takes fate out of the equation, doesn’t it? At least for people.” I didn’t like that idea at all, made everything seem a little pointless as far as living was concerned.
“So it would appear.” His voice was barely audible.
“Wait, I don’t get something else. You said time is resetting, so does that mean the whole future, or just this part? If it’s just this part, then how could that not affect the future? Or if it resets, then why doesn’t everything just repeat, like a record skipping?”
“The whole line shifts, all of time shifts from the point it was reset to, to accommodate the ‘skip.’ It overwrites what was there when it starts again.” If you record something on an old magnetic cassette tape, then rewind and record over it, the original recording is underneath, but covered up. It’s still a tape, still records, still plays the same direction, but what is apparent, perceptible, is the newest recording.”
“I will never, ever understand this.” I closed my eyes.
“No, you won’t. Don’t let it bother you. We have thousands of years of experience, and we still don’t understand. Sometimes it’s just easier to be what we are and do what we do and believe that all will end up as it should in the end. It will, I think, in the very end, which makes me wonder why we exist at all. It is we who break things, and then we fix what we’ve broken. It seems ultimately like a purposeless life.”
“It can’t be purposeless. There has to be a purpose for everything, or at least important things, like living a life. You exist; you are what you are, because it’s the only way we could have met. Maybe that was your purpose, to find me. I know it doesn’t seem that important to the world, but it’s a world of importance to me.” That was a good way to explain it. I even sounded smart.
“I would like that to be my purpose. It would mean I could find you again.”
“You know what?” I said. “We ‘normal’ people do the same thing. We break things, and then try to fix them. That’s all life is, the bad people screwing things up, the good people accidentally screwing things up, and the rest trying to sort it out and fix it. Wouldn’t that make everyone’s life purposeless, if yours is”
Gabriel smiled and then sat up, just before the knock came. “It’s open.” He said as he pushed me up to a sitting position.
Mr. Knight walked in resolutely, a serious look on his face. “Gabriel, I need to speak with you in the library. It is of the utmost importance.”
I didn’t like the look on his face, or the way he completely avoided eye contact with me. My heart leapt up into my throat. I couldn’t tell if he was angry, or worried, or just focused. I could feel the apprehension radiating off Gabriel, it stung my skin.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, standing with Gabriel, hanging onto his arm, afraid to let go.
“I’m sorry, Dear, no need for alarm. Just an important matter needs immediate attention, I need Gabriel's assistance.” He barely spared me a glance, kept his eyes pointedly on Gabriel's.
“Yes, Father, please give me a moment and I’ll be right there.”
I could already feel the pull from Gabriel, and I could tell by the look on his face, Mr. Knight could feel it too. The moment the door closed, Gabriel put his arms around me. “He’s found something.”
“Found something?”
“I have to go. I swear to you I will come back, nothing will change between this moment, and when I see you again. I can tell. Don’t be afraid.” He kissed me gently, but it did nothing to take away the fear that was suddenly choking me.
Gabriel released me, went to the door and through it without turning back around. I listened to his steps fade down the stairs. ‘Found something’ could only mean one thing. This could also only mean one other thing—time would reset. To when? How far back?
I looked around Gabriel's room, and then looked out the window. I hadn’t thought until this moment about this room in relation to the library. I tried to orient myself. Part of this room had to overlap the library, because it was huge. It was an old house, these were old floors.
In my house, there was a board on the second floor with a tiny knothole in it. You could see straight into the ceiling. When I was little, I took a pencil and poked a hole in the ceiling, and I could see all the way into the room below. What was more, with or without the hole in the ceiling; I could hear what was going on in the room underneath through the hole in the wood.
Once I figured out where the library should be, I started crawling around on the floor, checking every board. I had no idea what excuse I would give if I were caught. Maybe temporary insanity, which would make perfect sense. I wondered if Gabriel could ‘feel’ me moving around up here. If so, he would probably be very confused.
Board after board and I found nothing. I pressed my ear to the wood and could hear muffled voices, but nothing discernable as words. There was a desk in the corner; I estimated it would probably be near where Mr. Knights desk was below, if my directions weren’t off. There was a chair, and under the chair, a rug to protect the wood.
I grabbed the chair and moved it carefully, then slid the rug out of the way. There were two damaged boards, one of them split. I wondered how mad Gabriel would be if I chipped the wood out with something.
I pulled out a drawer and found a letter opener. It looked newer, so I grabbed it. No glimpses. I stabbed it into the largest split and tried to pry carefully. A piece popped loose with barely a sound.
My heart was pounding, so when I first put my ear to the floor, all I could hear was the sound of my own blood going ‘whoosh-whoosh.’ I tried to make myself calm down. In through my nose, out through my mouth, slow, deliberate breaths. I placed my hands around my ear, trying to make a seal to funnel the sounds.
As my heartbeat slowed, I could make out voices more clearly, even a word or two now and then. I tried to keep my breathing even and concentrated on being as quiet as possible. It sounded like they were not very near below me, but I could distinguish Mr. Knights' voice from Gabriel's easily.
“It’s correct…….if we could locate……..at some time……..” Mr. Knight was still speaking, but it was muffled as he walked away from my position.
I heard Gabriel's voice. “….would that mean…...and if she………..die…….”
I thought of poking a hole in the ceiling with that stupid letter opener. If I knew I wouldn’t be caught, I would do it in a heartbeat. Hearing part of the conversation felt worst than none, except it kept my mind occupied.
Mr. Knight was speaking again, the voice came closer below, and the words were clearer. “….notify an interceptor……….locate the traveler, we have no choice. I understand what you’re saying…..” the voice moved away, muffled.
Gabriel again. “….what that means for her. Everything changes, Father, everything. What does that mean for me? What am I to……..” His voice sounded upset and confused.
More muffled sounds, mostly Mr. Knight. “...cannot explain anything! WILL NOT. I am so sorry, Gabriel, truly I am. When you’re….”
My heart had started pounding again, and my breath sped up. So sorry Gabriel. That was bad. That was very bad. I didn’t want to hear any more.
I got up slowly, carefully placed the chipped piece of wood back, pulled the rug over it, and sat the chair back in position, the best I remembered at least. I wanted to pace around the room, but they would hear me. Maybe I should be pacing around the room, making no noise at all might be more suspicious.
I crept across the floor to the bed and then walked more normally to the window. I stood there staring out for a few minutes, and then walked back to the bed. I didn’t try to be quiet or loud; I just paced, back and forth, thinking. I also wondered something.
I sat on the floor and closed my eyes, pictured Gabriel in the library below. I placed my hands flat on the floor, imagined sending out energy to find him. In my mind it was blue, and looked like lightning in slow motion. I had no idea if it could look like that, but it’s what I pictured.
I could see it as clearly as a glimpse, drifting down through the floor, seeking him. He had his back to me, was looking at his father. I didn’t see his father; I just knew he was there. I watched as it moved closer, spread out around him like fingers, and caressed his shoulders. I could have sworn I felt him take in a sharp breath, saw him turn and look around the room in stunned silence, but I held on. His eyes looked up at the ceiling.
I was smiling. My imaginings were so real; I could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt. I wrapped my imaginary hands around his face, touched his lips, his hair. He was so bewildered he couldn’t move. It was amazing, the clarity in my mind. I could see his eyes just as though I was looking into them.
The door swung open with a crash, and I had been so absorbed by what was in my mind that I jumped half out of my skin. “What were you doing, Jessie!” Mr. Knight exclaimed. “What, exactly, were you doing?” I had the strangest sensation of whiplash, like I had been in a sudden, violent, auto accident.
I heard Gabriel's footsteps on the stairs, and my first thought was that, if he could feel me ‘pull,’ I was about to cause him to crash into me at top speed. His father was scaring me, and I didn’t know how to answer him. I wanted to fall through the floor, or disappear into nothing, but more than that, I wanted… Gabriel.
CHAPTER XXVI
And down this beaten path, and up this cobbled lane,
I’m walking in my old footsteps once again.
—Colin Hay
He came flying through the door, nearly colliding with his Father, dodging at the last second, and nearly tackled me to the floor. “Are you all right? What is it?”
“I d-don’t kn-know.” I stammered. “What d-did I d-do?” I knew my eyes were wild, I could feel them trying to pop out of their sockets.
Mr. Knight was still just inside the door, his eyes looked as wild as mine felt. He also looked completely perplexed by my reaction, and Gabriel's. I was staring at him over Gabriel’s shoulder, shuddering violently. It wasn’t fear that made me tremble. I wasn’t sure what was causing it.
Gabriel's head swung around. “What did you do, Father?”
Mr. Knights' eyes blinked a few times and he regained his composure. Taking a deep breath, he approached us both slowly, like we were wild animals he was trying not to frighten. It was altogether strange, and I glanced down at my hands to make sure I looked normal. Why wouldn’t I look normal?
When Mr. Knight sank to the floor beside me, my first thought was how odd he looked doing so. Professors didn’t sit on floors. At that moment, it seemed as wrong to me as seeing the Queen of England sit on a toilet. I laughed a short, hysterical laugh, and knew my mind had snapped.
The sound only served to cause Gabriel to panic. He swept me up and off the floor, away from his father and whisked me to the bed. Whisked. What a strange word.
The bed was soft beneath me, the fluffy pillows swallowed the back of my head, and the scent of Gabriel and fresh linens cleared my head a little. Those blue eyes probing mine—god, they were beautiful. I smiled.
“I’m sorry, Gabriel, I did not intend to frighten her.” Who her? Me? Yes, me.
“Breathe.” I closed my eyes and did what I told myself to do. In through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through—I should take up yoga.
“Jessie.” Gabriel's voice, still full of concern. He placed his hand on my forehead, rubbing between my eyes with his thumb. “Open your eyes.”
I didn’t want to, but I did. I didn’t like the sound under his regular voice. I let my eyes focus slowly, blinking about four or five times. They felt dry. Dry and itchy.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, I whispered to Gabriel. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.”
Mr. Knight walked nearer, got down on one knee at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. I reacted poorly. Surely you can understand and appreciate that not much in this world is astonishing to me.”
I glanced at Gabriel, and back at Mr. Knight. “What astonished you?”
“What you were doing.” He replied.
“What do you think I was doing?” My first thought was he knew I was listening through the floor, but that wouldn’t qualify as astonishing. Rude, maybe, but not astonishing.
“How did you...” He cleared his throat, “what did you—what were you…” He seemed to have a hard time finding the words. “You ‘contacted’ Gabriel. How did you do it?”
“I did?” I was attempting to sit up now and Gabriel seemed to be trying to decide if he should help, or prevent me. He decided to help and placed a supporting arm behind me. Yes, if that happened, it would definitely qualify as astonishing.
Once I was sitting up, Gabriel said, “Yes, you did.”
“Wow.” That was not what I expected. “What did it feel like?”
“It felt like you—touched me—like your hands were on my shoulders, then my face. I could feel it as clearly as I could feel you right now if you touched me.”
“Seriously?” I was skeptical, yet he described what I had imagined.
“Yes. How did you do it?” Gabriel took my hand, looking into my eyes with what seemed like complete fascination.
“Umm, well—I sat on the floor and imagined seeing you. I put my hands flat on the floor and imagined sending out energy to find you. When I found you, I touched you. Oh, and I imagined it looked like slow blue lightning.” I smiled a self-depreciating smile—I knew I sounded crazy.
“Absolutely astonishing.” Mr. Knight said, his brows pulled together so deeply he appeared to have a unibrow. “I’ve never heard of, never read—this can’t be a first. There has to be something, somewhere, someone—this is most extraordinary. I’m flabbergasted.” I believed him.
“Could you do it again, do you think?” Gabriel asked.
“I-I don’t know. I didn’t know I was doing it the first time.”
“I must write some of this down. The implications!” Mr.
Knight seemed very excited. I gave him a quizzical look. “Technological breakthroughs, Jessie. Resistive, capacitive, acoustic waves…must be capacitive. There’s something there for superior minds to decipher. Then what is the conductor? Acoustic waves, SAW’s?” He appeared to be talking more to himself than to me, lost in thoughts. He turned abruptly, and walked out the door.
Gabriel whispered to me, “I have always been able to feel that pull, or to produce it. That sensation of touch I showed you—proximity was still necessary—nothing works, it doesn’t, didn’t, work from a distance.” He was almost stuttering.
“What does it mean, then? Could you seriously feel it, like I was touching you?”
His eyes seemed to darken momentarily, locking on mine, and his breath was shallower. The single word was soft and breathy. “Yes.” His lips stayed parted as he breathed through his mouth.
My stomach fluttered. The more time I spent around him, the more I was drawn to him. It was on the verge of painful. I’m so sorry, Gabriel. My heart stopped for the space of three or four beats. I felt it. “Your father found out something.”
His eyes turned darker still, and sad. Again that one word, but this time he looked away as he said it. “Yes.”
I gazed at his profile, saw his jaw tighten, his mouth close into a thin, hard line. His Adams-apple bobbed as he swallowed, as if he were trying to take back the word and force it down his throat. His eyes stared, unblinking, at the window across the room.
Penny for your thoughts. How many times had he said that to me? “Penny for your thoughts.” I whispered.
“That’s a penny more than they are worth.” His expression did not change.
“Can you tell me what he found?” I asked.
