by EJ Valson
My heart lurches. Becoming frightened, I look around the room. It all appears the same, but something is off. It's too perfect and not lived in. It isn't real. I look back at my mother. I'm terrified now. I am small and don't know if she will hurt me. I don't know if this is really her.
"This isn't our dog," I fearfully whisper.
She lovingly smiles at me. "You're right," she gently replies.
Instantly, my mom pulls away from me. The same sensations of being pushed and tugged are happening again. Darkness starts surrounding me as I fall. I reach out to grab hold of anything to anchor me, but there's nothing there.
CHAPTER 90
My body plunges into a mass of cold water, and I fight against it to come up to the surface. I forcefully break through and gasp for air. I can't breathe and I'm choking. I struggle until finally, liquid spits out from my mouth. I slowly regain my breath, while treading water. I look around quickly to see my surroundings. There appears to be a small house about twenty yards ahead on the shore and a small dock to my left. No one is around.
I begin to swim quickly towards the house, gasping for more air when getting closer to the grassy shore. I hoist myself out of the water with my last bit of strength and collapse on the ground. I look up at the dusky sky and focus on the sparse stars above, while catching my breath. The air is quickly cooling down and I'm getting colder. I look down and notice I'm wearing a swimsuit that I've never seen before.
I look towards the house and see a light's on and smoke is coming from the chimney. It looks slightly familiar. Cautiously, I approach the front porch. As I begin my ascent up the stairs, I notice a car parked in the driveway. The license plates are foreign. Swedish. I quickly hurry up the steps and frantically knock on the door. Seconds later the door opens abruptly. It's Michael.
I throw myself at him and cling to him tightly. "Whoa, babe, you're getting me all wet!" he laughs, but hugs me anyway.
He steps back and reaches for a towel hanging on a hook by the door. We must be at his family's lake cabin. I quickly wrap the towel around my body, then grab him again so forcefully that he's backed into the wall behind him. I kiss him again. He doesn't resist and kisses me back. After a moment, I pull away and look at him. It's Michael, older-the way I left him. I grab the sides of his face and kiss him once more. He's surprised, but goes with it. We do this for several minutes until I'm satisfied that we're finally together and this is real.
Then I break away from him and rush to the first mirror I can find, in the hall bathroom. I look older. I look like me. I turn around so I can see my back in the mirror and move my wet hair away from my shoulders. My tattoo is there again. I'm elated. Silently, I celebrate my return.
"Michael," I shout, rushing out of the bathroom to find him. I want to hold him. I want to hold Stella and Olivia. I could cry and laugh with joy all at once.
"In here," he calls from the small kitchen. He's stirring something on the stove when I enter.
"Where are the kids?" I ask excitedly.
"What kids?" he casually replies.
"Stella?Olivia," I say confused, but realize we might have come without them.
Michael stops stirring and looks at me. "Who?" he asks puzzled. My heart drops and my legs weaken. It's another test.
"I'm sorry," I reply deflated, slowly stepping away from him. "I must have the wrong house."
I briskly head towards the door, then decide that I want to hold him one last time. When I turn back around he's gone. There's nothing on the stove. There's no one in the room. This is all an awful trick. Nothing here is real, he was not real. We have never been here together. This isn't a memory from our life.
The floor begins shaking below me. Walls tremble and pictures are starting to fall and crash to the ground. I stand frozen in the middle of it all, not knowing which way to move to avoid being hurt. I instinctively put my hands over my head and shield myself from my crumbling surroundings. Suddenly, thunder and lightning are everywhere, and a storm surrounds me. My body is being forced sideways, but I do my best to keep my footing grounded. "STOP IT!!!" I scream into the fury.
I don't want to feel the pain of it all anymore. I close my eyes and begin to pray. "I just want to go home!" I cry out.
In an instant everything goes still. The wind, rain, thunder and lightning cease all at once. I breathe hard and quiet my sobs. I'm still afraid to open my eyes. What mirage will I see? What illusion will I encounter next? Was it all just an illusion? The life with Michael, the life with Joe...what is real?
I'm no longer feeling wet or cold. But, there's a soft breeze tickling my ankles and blowing my hair away from my face. I slowly open my eyes and gasp. Three large pools of spinning water are hundreds of feet below me. I look down and realize that I'm perched on some sort of stone pillar. Panic wells up inside me, but I must remain steady or I'll fall. I draw in a breath, then look around before carefully stepping back. I am surrounded by water. There is no way down from here. There's nowhere to go. I'm in the middle of an angry ocean.
The sun beams down upon me, as if I'm being called on to make a decision. I watch the water violently swirl in each circular void. The speed is increasing. Blue and green waves crash and spin. It's simultaneously beautiful, frightening, and inviting. I only have one option. It's inevitable.
I stare as static images begin to manifest in the depths of each raging whirlpool. They are moving so fast and none of them are clear. I am starting to feel sick with vertigo. I'm supposed to choose one, I know this now, but I'm not sure which one. They speed up, faster, faster, faster. Words are now mixing within the images. I cannot read fast enough to comprehend them. I focus harder, my eyes shift back and forth rapidly, searching for a sign. I know it will come. Wait?..watch for it. Jump!
My body falls at a rapid speed. The light fabric of my garment blows angrily against my skin. I keep my eyes tightly shut and brace for the impact. I can't look, I'm terrified. The ocean air slaps my flesh right before I crash through the surface.
Everything stops. There's no sound, and no light as I slowly descend into a warm body of liquid. It feels denser than water, but I keep holding my breath. Tiny streams of light begin illuminating the darkness, like bright little stars. I'm not afraid as I keep falling slowly, though I know not where.
From the corner of my eye, I see something white floating nearby. I carefully reach out to grab it and it almost slips between my fingers. Pulling it closer, I realize it's a photo. It's a picture of Stella and Olivia. I bring it near to my chest and hang on to it tightly. Then something else catches my eye in the distance. A silver sparkle reflects the small rays of light penetrating the water. I force my body towards it. I extend my hand and clasp the tiny object. I slowly open my fist to inspect it. In the palm of my hand lies my wedding ring. I carefully slide it on my ring finger, still keeping hold of the picture.
I don't feel the need for air as the weight of my body slowly carries me downward into a deeper darkness. Wherever it is that I am, I don't need to breathe. I try to swim, but it's too difficult, so I keep falling slowly.
Something delicately sweeps across my arm. I manage to turn my body around in the dense water. Michael appears in front of me, staring deeply into my eyes. We cannot speak to each other. He slowly lifts his hand through the water and gently places it on the side of my face. He simply smiles. I can see it's really him. I see our story behind his eyes. He gently leans in and lightly kisses my lips. I want to hold on to this moment. But, I fear it's my last.
My body starts feeling heavier. Something is forcefully beneath me that I cannot see. I try to hang on tightly to Michael as I'm being swept away. I begin to panic. I can't let go! I'm scared I'll lose him for good.
I look pleadingly into his eyes. He remains calm, still smiling softly at me. It's as if he can't see what's happening. I'm being pulled down harder, and can no longer hang on. I try to scream and yell for help, but nothing comes out of my mouth. I'm struggling, and losing the fight. As I rapidly sli
p farther down, there's nothing but darkness and the heavy pull of gravity.
I no longer feel the warm water, Michael's presence, or the need to fight. My head becomes lighter, and my eyes want to close.
And then I feeling nothing at all?.
CHAPTER 91
I'm jostled from the calm when my body slams against something solid. I struggle to breathe from the wind getting knocked out of me. Everything hurts and I've landed on my shoulder. I'm afraid to open my eyes. I can't take any more "tests". I can't take any more trials of my will. I want to give up. I just want this to be over.
Something begins running towards me. Vibrating footsteps tremble underneath my body, as whatever it is gets closer. Suddenly hands are pulling on me. "Jenni, Jenni!" a voice pleads frantically. I'm then turned over on my back and lightly shaken, as whoever it is tries to bring me to consciousness.
My eyes fly open and I catch my breath. "Michael!" I cry, startling him when I abruptly grab at him. Worry and confusion show in his hazel eyes. Michael's expression is just like Joe's on the day I appeared at his house and fainted. He looks like a concerned husband. He's my concerned husband.
Quickly but carefully, I sit up and wrap my arms around him. I touch every part of his exposed flesh for proof that it's really him, then begin sobbing. I'm barely able to catch a breath as I continue to cry and cling to him with all my might. I won't let go of him again.
"Babe, are you OK? Are you hurt?" he asks.
I nod, then shake my head while trying to stop crying. I don't really know how I am. From the sound of his heart pounding in his chest, I know Michael's scared. But rather than overwhelm me with questions, he tenderly comforts me instead.
We stay like this for several minutes, but I keep waiting for something to change. For the room to shift, for Michael to transform, or for me to fall away again. I lift my head away from where it's burrowed between his chest and chin. Slowly rising to a sitting position, I cautiously begin to inspect what's around me.
I remain on the floor next to a bed-it looks like our bed. I focus on the d?cor, and pictures on shelves. Everything looks exactly as it should. Everything is in the right place. It's clean, but not perfect. There are remnants of normalcy everywhere-a basket of laundry in the corner and Stella's doll on the floor. This is our bedroom.
I look at Michael, now certain it's really him. I lean in and place my hands behind his neck, gently pulling him towards me. He's surprised by my affection, but doesn't resist. Our kiss feels different from the moment we had in the cabin. It's even more tangible.
I've missed these lips for too long. Even though I was able to be affectionate with young Michael, he wasn't the same person I'm with right now. He wasn't yet the man that I've fallen more in love with as we've made our journey in this life together. The man who makes me want to be better for him and our family through his consistent love and support-despite how difficult I can be at times.
When I'm satisfied, I fold into his embrace again. I'm exhausted. My head is jumbled and aching from what I endured to get back here. All I want to do is remain in the shelter of Michael's arms and rest.
"You fell out of bed pretty hard. Are you sure you're alright?" he whispers, continuing to comfort me.
I look up and meet his gaze. "I am if I'm with you," I say, smiling broadly.
Michael doesn't seem convinced. He helps me to stand, then leads me to sit on the bed. He looks at the side of my face, inspecting it for any cuts or bruises. He checks my eyes to make sure they're correctly dilated. Once assured, Michael strokes my hair and stares at me. I haven't seen him this worried since I was in labor with Stella.
He carefully sits down on the bed and gently puts his arm around me. He rubs his eyes and scratches the top of his head. I'm sure this is not the way he expected to be woken up this morning.
"You were really active in your sleep last night," he says. "You kept kicking and talking, saying random words."
"I did? What did I say?" I ask perplexed. He shrugs his shoulders and thinks for a minute.
"Um?..I don't remember all of it. You yelled out something about calling 911, which woke me up out of a dead sleep. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't budge. Then a few hours later, you were saying 'I love you' out loud. Then later you were crying," he says matter-of-factly. "No matter what I did, you wouldn't wake up or respond to me. You'd just roll over, continue sleeping and dreaming. I barely slept last night," he says with a yawn.
I sit in silence, quietly trying to sort out what seemed like a tragic year of my life, but now appears to be one night of active sleep. Blood starts pulsing through my head. It feels like my brain's been damaged, tormented and played with. Nothing about this makes sense. In my mind, I clearly see images of the journey I experienced and vividly recall a life I was living only a few hours ago. It seems as real as being here right now. How can I know so much about it, if it didn't really happen? Was everything that occurred only a dream?
I'm brought out of my thoughts when the bedroom door opens. Stella sleepily shuffles in, rubbing her eyes, while making her way to Michael. My heart pounds while watching him lift Stella up and place her in his lap. She leans comfortably against his chest. I'm stunned by her presence, and unable to move. Tears well up in my eyes.
"Today's your birthday party," he quietly says, tickling her belly. She lets out a hearty giggle.
The shock of seeing her again quickly wears off, and I instinctively reach for her. She moves over to my lap and wraps her small arms around me, embracing me fully. I bury my head in her hair and take in her scent. I'm having flashbacks of moments like this with Olivia-in the real or imagined past life I just lived. How I knew it was her in my life with Joe. How I recognized her from this small act.
Stella is also my baby. She too is my daughter. And I'll never forsake her, Michael, Olivia or anyone that I love again. I hold her tight, trying not to cry. "Happy birthday, baby girl," I whisper. I never want to let her go.
CHAPTER 92
After a while, Michael finally accepts that I'm OK and continues on with his morning routine of fixing Stella breakfast, making coffee and getting the paper. He also inadvertently provides me with the details of Stella's birthday party. Coincidentally, it's at the same pizza parlor where Joe and I had Olivia's fifth birthday party. Or did we?
While he's busy, I move carefully around the house, touching practically every wall, doorway and tangible object I can find to make sure I'm really where I appear to be.
I inspect every family photo, check the closets, and rifle through drawers. Everything seems to be where it should.
Lastly, I make my way to Olivia's room. I attempted to do this earlier, but Michael encouraged me not to wake her. When I get there, her bedroom door is still closed. This is normal these days, as she likes her privacy and doesn't feel the need to have us within yelling distance like Stella does.
I quietly open the door, careful not to disturb Olivia. Her long, dark hair is sprawled across her pillow. Her back faces the doorway, similar to the day I saw her again at age four. I lean my head against the door frame and though I long to hold her, but settle for watching her sleep. My heart aches a little at the realization that she's no longer five. She is almost thirteen. How quickly I'm losing her to the teenage years.
She starts to wake and stretch in bed, her long legs poking out from under the covers while extending them. She senses my presence and quickly looks towards the door. Upon seeing me, she frowns.
"What are you doing, Mom?" Olivia asks, annoyed. I scoff with a chuckle and my heart swells. This is my life-my beautiful life.
I make my way over to the bedside and nudge her to scoot over so I can climb into bed and snuggle. She grumbles as I crawl under the covers, and mentions that I'm weird. I wrap one arm across her and kiss her cheek.
"Mom, ewww," she says, wiping her face. "I just want to sleep," she whines.
"I love you, Livi," I say, squeezing her once more before climbing
back out of her bed and leaving her alone.
"Love ya too," she says half-heartedly. I smile though, because I know she really does.
As I'm leaving, her cell phone rings from the desk. I reach over to grab it and hand it to her, but almost lose my breath when seeing the number on the caller ID. It's Joe. My heart suddenly sinks a bit at the loss of whatever life it was that I just lived. I can't answer the phone. I can't tell him that I made it, that I'm OK and he doesn't need to worry. Although I really want to.
I hand the phone to Olivia and leave the room before tears escape my eyes. I'm emotional and confused. I don't know where I've really been, why I was there and if it was some very vivid dream or a real "limbo" in time. All I know is that I've ended up back in the life I was fighting to live again. I'm grateful for that, but I find that I'm also melancholy about leaving behind what I remember so clearly.
I head to my bedroom to check my cell phone. I don't have any missed calls, but why would I? I feel the need to call friends and family to tell them I'm back. But that wouldn't make any sense to anyone. In their minds, I haven't gone anywhere.
I make my way to the bathroom mirror, turn around and pull my shirt up to expose my upper back. There it is-my tattoo. Where it should be. I exhale deeply. I really am home.
