Abbie's Gift

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Abbie's Gift Page 10

by M. R. THOMAS


  There was nobody around for miles, nobody except Abbie and the wind; it seemed to increase and she felt that she was running into it head-on, which made it much harder than she’d anticipated.

  Two hard and long, strenuous sprints had not brought even a slight hint of dizziness or potential out-of body-experience. Keep trying she thought, keep going.

  Abbie looked at her watch-cum-heart rate monitor that she was wearing for the first time since finding it and realised that she had been running for 34 minutes, so she had at least that time again before she could get back to her car, and that was if she turned around now.

  No, I must keep going, she thought to herself. This time without any marker to focus on, she set off at a sprint down the path as fast as she could possibly run, head up, arms pumping, knees lifting high, pounding the ground with the balls of her feet. Abbie felt that she’d reached her limit; she tried to maintain the sprint but couldn’t, her energy reserves were exhausted and she was totally spent.

  Abbie looked at her heart-rate monitor; which showed 194 beats per minute.

  Not bad going, she thought. She was gasping for air, and her movements had slowed to a walking pace. She turned around and headed off back down the path in the direction of the car park, this time with the wind behind her.

  As she turned, she thought she saw something, or maybe someone, disappear off the path and into bushes at the side of the track some 100 metres ahead of her. She couldn’t be sure, but she was almost certain she’d glimpsed something flesh-coloured in her peripheral vision.

  Was someone close by watching her, she wondered and, if so, why disappear like that off the track? Strangely, it didn’t really alarm her, just made her gather her senses and remind herself that she needed to head home.

  Abbie set off at a jog; at least the wind was now pushing at her back, helping her along. She neared the spot where she thought she’d seen something, but there was nothing, not a sign of anyone or anything, just thick shrubs and undergrowth. Abbie ran on without a second thought.

  By the time she reached the car, she felt totally exhausted, starved of all energy. She was even shaking slightly, so she sat on the edge of the car seat and ate an apple whilst quenching her thirst with some water.

  The apple was so crunchy it was almost too firm, even her jaw felt fatigued. And its bitterness hit her empty stomach hard, making her almost queasy.

  As Abbie slowly began to recover, she dared not entertain the thought that kept flitting into her mind: why had nothing happened? Even at that intensity of exercise, there was nothing. Why no movement, dizziness, no out-of- body experience and therefore no Peter? She couldn’t begin to contemplate the idea that began to niggle away at her.

  What if it never happens again?

  ……………………………………………………………….

  At home, Abbie slumped through the front door, exhaustion taking hold of her; this had been by far her longest run at well over an hour, and she found she could barely stand.

  Abbie noticed the answerphone message light was flashing so she played the message, then was immediately sorry she had done so, she didn’t want to hear the voice of Peter’s father asking her to call him as soon as possible.

  Without thinking she pressed redial and within a moment he answered, his voice sombre, informing her that he’d collected the ashes. Abbie didn’t know what to say, her mind was too fatigued to take in anything that was being said.

  “Can I have them please?” was her only logical response.

  His father explained that, really, they all needed to decide where they should be scattered. Abbie found herself agreeing but, to Peter’s father, there was a distinct pleading tone in her voice, so he told her he’d bring them to her that evening.

  All she could manage was “thank you”.

  Abbie sat somewhat dumbfounded in the kitchen, her mind a complete blank, her body unable to function. She didn’t know how long she sat there but eventually, when she began to feel cold, she went and showered and put her comfortable lounging-around-the-house clothes on. As she towelled her hair dry she called her mother and explained that she needed her again, needed her support and for her to come over later that afternoon as Peter’s ashes were being brought to her. She avoided saying that he was coming home, although that was what she genuinely felt.

  After trying and failing to eat half a tuna sandwich and drinking half a cup of tea, she went upstairs to lie down, her body heavy from the effort of her exercise a few hours earlier.

  Abbie saw the New Testament by the bedside and thumbed through it, again reading the passage denoted by the fabric marker between the thin pages.

  In my father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself; that where I am you may be also.’

  This didn’t comfort Abbie today as it had before, and she knew it was because, for some reason that she couldn’t yet understand, she could not currently find the way back into what she regarded as one of the mansions, the very place where she believed Peter to be.

  ……………………………………………………

  Abbie felt genuinely uneasy about Peter’s parents visit, and her mother’s presence and general aura of calm did little to offer her any comfort; nor did several mugs of steaming hot tea, most of which she barely touched.

  Rose sensed her daughter’s anxiety and apprehension, if seemed to flow from her in waves. She looked agitated and unsettled and this was a worry for Rose as, despite the traumatic time she was going through, Abbie seemed unusually on edge. She could also see that Abbie was beginning to look gaunt and had obviously lost weight, despite her protests of eating what and when she liked, whenever she was hungry.

  Somehow, Rose knew that Abbie’s overall demeanour was different from the previous grief and tears that she had witnessed over those first long and difficult days, when all she did was cry or sleep due to the sedation. This was very different, and she felt something was very wrong this time. It was only a few days since their shopping trip but now Abbie seemed to have altered in that short spell of time. Initially after the funeral, she seemed to make good progress with plans for her life, but looking at her now Rose knew that not all was right. She seemed preoccupied, insular and not letting anyone close, not even Kate this time.

  Before Peters parents arrived, Abbie decided to change her clothes; she chose a black skirt, and a dark patterned. She noticed when she put the skirt on it was very loose at the waist, so loose in fact she could rotate it round her hips easily. She knew she was not eating much, but felt as long as she satisfied her hunger when it appeared, there was no need to worry; she certainly had no issues with food, and besides, all the exercising was making her trim and lean.

  Just after 6 pm, on time as expected Peter’s father emerged from his car, leaning into the back seat and lifting out a dark coloured holdall. Abbie watched as both Peter’s parents approached her house, Rose waiting for the bell to ring and to open the door.

  Abbie thought the kisses they placed on her cheek were half-hearted and unfeeling.

  Rose offered tea or coffee, which they both accepted.

  When they had all sat down together, without speaking Peters’ father reached into the holdall and produced a metallic coloured urn which, steadily and with both hands, he placed it on the table in front of them. His mother was again sniffling into her handkerchief. Abbie’s gaze was fixed and solemn on the urn, not daring to take her eyes off it.

  “I don’t know what to say” she began. “I’m sorry but I don’t have anything to say that seems appropriate”.

  His father, ever a real gentleman as Rose always had said, simply nodded and then replied

  “Don’t, it’s not necessary to say anything at this moment. We haven’t a clue what to say either, do we?” he asked, looking at his wife.

  She didn’t look up from her handkerchi
ef.

  “It’s awful for us all, and it will be for a long time to come, but that’s to be expected. As you requested Abbie, here are Peter’s ashes, but please don’t leave it too long before we can scatter them, we…”, he looked at his wife, “want him to finally rest somewhere nice”.

  “Oh he is somewhere nice” Abbie replied.

  Then, immediately realising what she’d said, quickly added, “he was so lovely and kind when he was alive he couldn’t possibly be anywhere else, could he?”

  She knew that this statement was a bit off the wall, but for now she seemed to have got away with it.

  His father continued “unless you have a special place in mind, we would like to suggest the Garden of Remembrance at the crematorium, it’s beautiful and peaceful, really tranquil, but please have a think and let us know, and of course we want to be there, whenever and wherever it is”.

  Abbie was already thinking where the ashes belonged: in the woods, reunited with Peter’s spirit where she had seen him the previous day.

  Somehow, the conversation got round to what Abbie was planning to do in the next few weeks. His parents both acknowledged that the bright-eyed girl they had got to know and care for looked unwell, although they did not comment to each other until later.

  They were surprised when Rose mentioned Abbie’s plan to return to work the following week, making comments such as “are you sure you’re ready?” and “it’s early days you know”.

  The fact was that this surprised Abbie too, as the whole idea of her returning to work that she’d agreed only a few days before had now totally gone from her mind; her whole life was now preoccupied and focused solely on Peter and finding him.

  How can I possibly consider returning to work before I resolve this? She thought, knowing only too well that she could not.

  Unknown to Abbie, Rose had arranged for Kate to call around to visit that same evening after Peter’s parents had left, making it seem like a spontaneous gesture.

  Rose had realised that her daughter had need of her own space after the funeral, and she had given it to her, but now this space had seemed to consume her and she was worried.

  Abbie was not overly pleased to see Kate; there was none of the spontaneous bubbliness that used to define their friendship. Kate did her best to enthuse, but she knew her friend was not in a good place. Over yet more tea supplied by Rose, they chatted about casual things, Kate doing most of the talking.

  Eventually when Kate offered to take Rose home, Abbie felt a sense of relief, that at least now she could be alone.

  As soon as they had gone, she poured herself a large glass of red wine, and as she sipped, she stared into the red liquid as if seeking answers, but there were none to be found.

  Abbie again scoured the internet for information on out-of- body experiences, but there were no recorded incidents of experiences similar to hers that she could find. She even thought of posting her own online report of her recent events but then thought better of it, deciding to keep her experiences safe inside of her, where nobody could attack, criticise her, or point a judgmental finger. Safeguarding my sanity, she thought.

  She made some entries in her journal about Peter’s home-coming. She had no idea what to do with the urn, so she left it where it was, in the middle of the coffee table in the lounge.

  ……………………………………………..

  Over the next few days Abbie ran often, as was now her norm. She preferred the mornings when the air was fresh and there were fewer people about, but as autumn drew closer to winter soon it began to feel cold, and extra clothing layers were needed.

  She ate spasmodically when her stomach grumbled at her, but overall her appetite was significantly diminished. Sometimes she felt as though she was surviving and running on adrenaline only, and she was becoming exhausted, both emotionally and mentally, as the days went by. And yet she was unsure if she was sleeping properly either; she felt as if she was only catnapping, her mind seemingly not permitting a moment’s rest.

  Abbie felt she no longer knew herself; her whole life had turned upside down and she was unable to rid herself of a crushing sense of despondency.

  Despite running hard and pushing herself to the limits of her physical capability, nothing moved her, not even slightly, towards another out-of-body experience.

  As time went by this only served to heighten Abbie’s anxiety, and it eventually occupied her every waking moment. She felt unable to relax; her home was no longer the comfortable, calming and place it had been, now it was only a shelter, somewhere to shield her from people and where she could think about being with Peter again.

  Each evening both her mum and Kate called. Abbie knew they were concerned but she was unable to offer them any reassurance in return. She sensed their pact to look out for her and was grateful, but deep down, wished they would leave her alone.

  ………………………………………………………

  As the evenings drew in the clocks were turned back, ushering in the autumn. Abbie sat one night in the half-light of the gas fire that was emitting a soothing and warm glow. Her eyelids felt heavy and for the first time in a long while, she felt herself beginning to relax a little. Her body and mind were so tired, exhausted. Her mind had been incoherent with jumbled thoughts that day, some of Peter, some of her recent experiences, and in that instant she thought that her mind seemed to be asking her to allow it to be free, as though seeking her permission to travel after being constrained.

  Am I asleep? She thought.

  She realised she was in the chair by the fire, relaxed and resting, so she focused on her breathing and sensed its soothing rhythm. So slowly, she was aware of a sense of her own consciousness rising up and moving out of her body

  I can do this, her brain seemed to be conveying. “I can do this” she began to whisper as a mantra.

  Slowly and with a sense of gracefulness, Abbie again left her physical body behind.

  White brightness filled her vision, so bright it seemed to almost hurt. It enveloped her completely, and was warm and peaceful. Abbie looked below her and could see herself in the chair with her eyes closed, looking as if she were asleep. A long silvery cord that seemed to glow and pulsate stretched back, attaching her astral being to her physical self.

  I’ve made it happen! She thought and a real sense of elation filled her mind and lifted her spirit; all that despondency that had weighted so heavily upon her had disappeared completely. It was gone in a moment of time.

  “Hello Abbie” said a voice, and she turned to see Isaac and Sara.

  “We have been waiting for you to return. We know you have tried but sometimes trying too hard does not make it happen any easier, as you have experienced. The last time you were here you saw Peter, and that seemed to have severely shocked you, and so you returned to the physical dimension of your life. You know, sometimes we just have to learn to trust our own unconscious processes. In the fact that protects us, and keeps us from things, we cannot understand or deal with. Maybe you were not meant to return here until now”.

  “I was scared in case it never happened again”, replied Abbie, “the thought of not seeing Peter, I couldn’t cope with that”.

  Isaac looked at her,

  “Then come with us now’.

  Sarah reached towards Abbie and guided her; in an instant they were travelling over houses in the town heading towards the woods. Once at the entrance they stopped and Sarah said,

  “Go. This time you are aware of what to expect, it will be alright for you.”

  As Abbie entered the wooded entrance in the half-light of the day, as evening drew to darkness, she was aware of something to her right-hand side; she caught a glimpse of it but when she turned, there was nothing to be seen. She continued into the woods and under the shadows of branches of the trees it grew darker still.

  Hesitant but expectant she called for him, “Peter, Peter”, willing him to respond.

  Suddenly, directly in front of her, a g
lowing, indistinct entity appeared. It spun and glowed and as it did it was radiating heat and warmth. As she watched, it began to change shape, developing limbs and features, becoming human, and Abbie knew it was Peter. She was transfixed, unable to move.

  “Peter”, she whispered, “Peter my love”.

  Her gaze fixed, she didn’t move a muscle or even blink, worried that if she lost sight of him for even a fleeting moment she might lose him forever.

  Chapter 11

  Abbie sat in the lounge sipping a cup of tea; it was dark outside now and there was rain hammering heavily on the window. She sat silently, contented.

  She relived her recent life-changing experience, one that she now understood. In that other dimension, she had not only seen Peter; she had touched him, held him, and kissed him, and he had been real, almost as real as she was now, sitting in this chair. Yes, it had been different from now as it was outside the dimensions of her physical life as she knew them, but it had happened.

  Their embraces and passionate kisses had taken her beyond any satisfaction or sense of wholeness that she had ever felt before. She had been totally overjoyed, and this level of joy, in the astral place, had been beyond anything physical she had ever experienced.

  Abbie realised that Peter was sorry at leaving his physical life too soon; he had not been given any choice. He had not been ready to die, and it had happened without any warning.

  Abbie came to understand it was just as Isaac had told her: that when a person is at the point of realising their impending death, at the moment of the physical event, sometimes they can leave their body in an attempt to avoid it, escape it happening.

 

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