Falling Out of Focus

by Brynn Myers

  “I’m here, Novi. Oh my god, what happened to you?”

  Mom?

  A firm but quiet voice spoke. “I’m afraid your daughter is in a coma.”

  “What?” my mother cried.

  “She suffered severe head trauma when she fell on the rocks. No one knows how long she was there before she was found so we cannot say for certain the extent of the damage at this time. We have her on a ventilator for now because she intermittently stops breathing. Until we can assess her situation more, she will remain like this.”

  I heard my mother sobbing before she asked.

  “Who found her?”

  “I’m not sure, but if he hadn’t she would’ve died.”

  Died? Oh my God.

  “Do you have any idea how long she’ll be like this?”

  “The first 24 hours are the most crucial. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “I’m in a coma? That is where I’ve been, not here in Sacrife? Why…then how…I don’t understand,” I questioned Oona.

  “You are in the in-between. You called it lost and happy, except those weren’t accurate descriptions. Your choices are death or life.”

  “Death or life, what does that mean?”

  “It means that this is the final piece of the puzzle, Novaleigh, and you have to decide whether you are going to stay here in Sacrife or go back to your life and live until you are old and grey.”

  “So here in Sacrife is death? It doesn’t feel like death. Not now at least. I mean it did at first but then it didn’t. It felt right and comfortable. I’m here with Gavin,” I babbled.

  Oona looked up from her knitting. “Sacrife is sacrifice…the land of the lost. At some point all the things you are experiencing will fade away just as you will. Life is one continuous flow and someday you’ll return to live again. You’ll live many lifetimes, Novaleigh, and you’ll need to learn and grow in each one. However, you must know that in the next lifetime you may not know anyone like your mother or your Nanna and Pappa. You may not even know Gavin in the same way. You two are twin flames so it’s likely you’ll encounter one another at some point, but you may not be lovers in the next life. You could just be friends. Nothing is guaranteed with free will.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why not live now? You have what you want right in front of you. Go home. Embrace love and all it has to offer.”

  “But I don’t have Gavin there? Or Pappa? All of that forgiveness and understanding is here.”

  “Don’t be so sure. Things may be different than you think,” Oona said before going back to her knit one, purl one.

  “Gavin, its Euna.” I could hear the distress in my mom’s voice. “Did you by chance happen to have been the one to find Novi? Oh no, I thought you were the one. No, she’s not okay. She’s in a coma. Yes, I’m here at the Portree. Okay. See you then.” My mom cried as she hung up the phone. She reached for my hand and rubbed it with her thumb. “I’m here, Novi. Listen to my voice and come back to me. Please. I need you. I can’t lose you, too.”

  Tears streamed down my face. “Why are you making me live this?”

  “Because you need to see that you are loved, and you will be missed if your choice is to stay here,” Oona said with a sad smile.

  “Any change in her status?”

  “No, Gavin. No change.”

  “I got here as soon as I could. Are you okay?” Gavin asked.

  “As good as can be expected.”

  Gavin sat on the other side of the bed and reached for my hand. I laid there unconscious, my mom on one side and the man I loved on the other, and I had no way to let them know I was here, listening. I wanted to scream “I’m here. I’m right here.”

  “They can’t hear you.”

  “I know, but I can wish for it.”

  “Yes, you can. Wish away, but let me ask you, where has that gotten you?”

  I felt like I was just slapped. What had my wishes produced other than heartache? I had big dreams, but when I got to the place to finally make them come true, I chickened out. I convinced myself it was too hard, too big of a dream, and I settled for being someone’s assistant. Sure, we all need to learn and grow, but when we squelch our intuition and let someone else berate our dreams, a piece of us dies. We begin to think we’re not worthy of more because we listen to the lies. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been doing this job for thirty years and you’ve been at it for five minutes. I decide the talent. You need to learn from my experience.” True but only to an extent. Age and wisdom does not always equal wiser. Sometimes the old can gain more knowledge from listening to the new. It should be symbiotic. When did learning become a straight line?

  When we are down on our own self-image, something else happens to challenge us. Another hitch or two and we die a little more. At least we think we do because we’ve let our demons consume us. Our inner dialogue suddenly becomes truth, and we are left empty and alone. Fear of failure has robbed us of our once amazing dreams. Nanna and Pappa always told me I could have it all within reason, but then I saw my parents fail at having a marriage and a life, and so I believed that would be the same case for me. I couldn’t have my dream of writing and publishing and have Gavin too. It was too big of a dream. I gave up half of myself to dump it into the other. Now, here I am, dying for all intents and purposes and have effectively lost it all. How was I going to get back to a place where I could make positive choices when all I’ve done is fail?

  “Have you really failed? I’ve seen a lot of accomplishment mixed with trial and error.”

  “Gah. I keep forgetting that you’re here in my head with me. No thought is sacred.”

  She gave me a smug grin. “It’s the weaver in me. I cannot help myself.”

  “Why are you called the weaver, you’re knitting?” I quipped.

  “I do more than knit, but that is not why I’m called the weaver, Novaleigh.” Oona put down her needles and looked at me. “There are threads that exist through time. Like fate lines, in a way, but these lines aren’t just for one lifetime. They are the threads for all your life journeys.” I shook my head in confusion. “Unlike a seer, I can see all of your threads. My job is to help weave the timelines together. I try and keep you on your true path.”

  “But you said something about free will, earlier. How does that affect a person’s threads?”

  “Let me put it another way to help you understand. Have you ever been on a boat?”

  “Once.”

  “Okay then, imagine you are the captain of this boat. You control the boat and its course, but sometimes you encounter a storm, and you become disoriented and lose sight of the shore. You try and get back on track, but you’re lost and you need guidance to get back to where you were going. Weavers try and get you back on course. Problem is, things have changed in you from your experience. You’re more cautious, you fear things on the path to your destination, and you make rash decisions––free will. You can do one of two things; give up and turn back, or you can decide to press forward into the unknown. However, now you’re afraid of what’s ahead. You lack faith. That is where I come in. I’m here to show you the way. I weave the past, the present, and the future so the threads become visible, and you begin to see the light. Does that make sense?”

  “I think so.”

  “Novaleigh, it’s simple. Nothing is as bad as it seems at the time, and sometimes in the midst of the hell you’re enduring is your pivot point, the place where you can get back your focus and turn your life around. Stop thinking about all that is wrong, and focus on what is right. It’s there that you’ll step out of the crazy, rise out of the rabbit hole, and start living again.”

  I had nothing to say in response to all that. She was right, but I wasn’t ready to admit that just yet. Once I stopped bugging her with questions, Oona went back to her knitting. I don’t think she was annoyed or anything, but simply wanted me to make my own choice. Something I was apparently incapable of doing at this time. I knew it in my hear
t what I should do, but there was a part of me that was still undecided. I looked over at the almost completed blanket lying at the edge of Oona’s worn shoes and realized how long we’d been together here in this house. Then again, she was the expert. Her fingers were flying as the needles worked their magic in her gifted hands. I, however, still fumbled along barely crafting half a coaster. I didn’t put too much stock in my failed project though, because my mind was elsewhere. I kept drifting between this world and the one where I was comatose.

  “Euna, you really should get some rest. Go back to the house and take some time for yourself. I’ll stay with her and let you know if anything changes.”

  “You’re a good man, Gavin Kirkpatrick,” my mother replied with a soft smile. “You’ll let me know right away if anything changes, yes?”

  “In an instant.”

  She nodded and put on her coat before leaning down. “I love you, Novi. Come home.” A moment later she was walking out the door and it was just Gavin and I––alone.

  “Novi, please.” Gavin pleaded as he kissed my hand. “You don’t have to be with me or here in Scotland. No one is putting any boundaries on you, but you have to come back to us. I’d settle for just knowing you were alive and well at this point.”

  He laid his head on my hand, and I felt the warmth of his skin and the moisture of his tears. Maybe he did still care. Maybe if I sat up right now and said I’m sorry, he’d forgive me. Yeah, out of pity.

  “Give me the chance to explain myself to you, Novi. One more chance.”

  What does he need to explain? I’m the asshole here.

  “I miss you, Novi.”

  He misses me? Like here in Sacrife…no, my mind…no, here in the in-between.

  I looked up at Oona. “All right.” I declared. “I find my faith, get back my focus, and then what? How am I supposed to get from here to there?”

  Oona reached over and placed her hand on mine. “First you have to forgive yourself and then you have to fall.”

  I scoffed. “You’re kidding right?”

  She shook her head, picked up her needles, and went right back to knitting.

  The tinking sound echoed again, and I looked around wondering where it was coming from. “What is that? Why do I keep hearing that?”

  “That is the ventilator. The doctors want to take you off of it to see if you’ll breathe on your own. It’s then you’ll have to decide, Novaleigh. Sacrife or home.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. You’ve been on it for forty-eight hours, but in the past six you’ve shown improvements. They’re hoping you’ll be well enough to be taken off.”

  “I see.” I sighed. “Is that something I am going to do here with you?”

  “No. Our time is through. Now it’s time for you to go back to the village with Gavin, Dermot, Demile, and Beira. They have something planned for you.”

  Chapter TwentyFour

  The five of us were back to the village in a matter of seconds, once I left Oona’s cottage. Dermot opened a portal, jetting us back to their home in an instant. When we arrived, there was a full-on celebration––food, music, dancing, the whole nine yards.

  “What’s going on? I thought I had to do a few things and make some choices so I could move on.”

  “You do,” Beira replied. “We thought you’d enjoy the opportunity to say goodbye here first.”

  “Yeah, you can’t go back without saying goodbye,” Oliver teased.

  “You’re back!” I exclaimed as I bent down to hug him. “Did you know all this? The truth of me the whole time?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m your guide. Oona thought it best if you had something comforting, a figure that brought you peace and happiness to follow you through the changes. You always did like otters.” He grinned.

  “I love otters,” I said with a kiss on his cheek.

  “I’m going to go grab something to eat, I’ll find you in a bit,” Oliver said before he bid Beira a good afternoon.

  “Care to go for a walk with me?”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “You look well. Did you have a good visit with Oona?” Beira asked as we moved away from the crowd.

  “I did. It was certainly eye opening to realize all this is just in my mind.” I tossed my hands in the air. “Like right now. I’m talking to myself essentially.”

  “Actually you’re not. The weaver and I are real. She in her true form and I in a divine one.”

  “I’m so confused. Real. Not real. Alive and yet not alive. You do understand why I can’t wrap my brain around this, right?”

  “You are real, you are alive. Those are facts.”

  “So then tell me this, Beira, what have I yet to come to terms with? I want to be ready to return when the doctors finally get around to pulling the plug.”

  “Straight to the truth then?”

  “Seems ridiculous not too.”

  “What is the one thing you’ve chosen not to come to terms with since you’ve been here?”

  I shook my head and flipped my hands. “I don’t know. I’ve dealt with it all. I made amends to Gavin and I even was able to say my piece to Pappa. There is nothing else.”

  “Truth, Novi. You can’t leave without full honesty.”

  “What, myself? Am I supposed to say ‘I’m sorry, self, for all my shitty choices?’” I replied sarcastically and then quickly realized I’d cursed. “Sorry for the language.”

  Beira gave a dismissive wave as she sat down on a bench. “Sit.”

  I reluctantly sat. This was dragging out. I could only hear the tinking sound intermittently now, and I worried the longer Beira and I took to get to whatever it was I needed to accept, that I would lose my window and my chance to go home.

  “No disrespect intended, but can you spell it out for me. Assume I’m an idiot, please.”

  Beira reached for my hand. “You’ve put it away so carefully that you don’t even acknowledge it. I understand why, but that is what we need to tap into, Novi.”

  The realization of what she was referencing rose to the surface. Nanna. I never dealt with Nanna. Too much guilt and shame. She was my world––my everything, and when she needed me the most, I dismissed her. My problems were bigger than hers. She couldn’t understand what I was going through, no one could. Sure, people would listen and offer advice, but what good was that. It wasn’t a solution. The tears and the pain slammed into me with enough force to bring me to my knees. I sat there, grass and leaves scratching at my flesh as I cried.

  “That’s it, Novi. Let it all go. None of what happened was your fault.”

  “Wasn’t it?” I sobbed.

  Beira knelt down next to me. “No, it wasn’t. Your Pappa passed away, a normal course of action in life, even he told you that.”

  I nodded.

  “Maureen didn’t blame you, Novi. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She knew where your head was at, and she knew you needed to find your path on your own terms, in your own time.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know,” Beira said as I watched her change. Her long auburn hair transformed into a shorter grey with soft curls framing her face.

  My body shook and my chest constricted. “Nanna?”

  She pushed back my hair. “It’s me, sweet girl.”

  I wrapped my arms around her neck and cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Novi, please stop apologizing.”

  “I can’t. When you called me that day and I said I had to call you back, that I was in the middle of something, I wasn’t doing anything I couldn’t have put on hold. I had no idea those would be the last words I’d ever get to speak to you. You died, and I didn’t get to tell you I loved you or how much you meant to me or that I was sorry. I didn’t make you a priority.”

  She brushed my hair back again, just like she used to when I was a little girl lying in her lap. “I already knew those things. Nothing you could say or not say would change how much I love you. You were a
gift to me the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  “But…”

  “No, I won’t accept any more of the lies you tell yourself. None of them are true.”

  I nodded and leaned into her embrace. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but for me it didn’t matter. The tinking sound didn’t matter. I was here with my nanna again. Safe and happy.

  “Novi?”

  I looked up at her smiling face. “Tell me everything that’s been going on. What is happening with you and Gavin?”

  “Really?”

  She nodded and we started talking. It was just like old times when I’d tell her about all that was going on, and she’d laugh and offer advice when needed. We were together. My eyes drifted closed as Nanna held me in her arms.

  “Novi, it’s time for me to go now.”

  “No,” I said sleepily.

  “Promise me something.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Go back to your mom and Gavin. They need you just as much as you need them.”

  “But I’m happy here.”

  “This happiness is only a façade. If you want true happiness...go home.”

  “We’re just waiting on her most recent blood work to come in, and we’ll move on to the next phase.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” I heard my mother say.

  “She’s been restless. Is that a good sign?” Gavin questioned.

  “I’m hoping, but I cannot say for certain. There has been an increase in her brain activity, so we’ll see. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

  When I opened my eyes, Beira and I were sitting on the bench, talking as if none of that happened.

  “Novi, it’s time we head back. It’s almost time for me to leave, and I’ve taken you away from your party long enough.”

  I shut my eyes and rubbed my forehead. I’m losing it again. What is real and what is clutter in this fractured mind? I could no longer tell. Beira stood and I followed. We were back amongst the villagers and Gavin was asking me to dance.