Soul's Gate

by James L. Rubart

  Kat half jogged, half walked to the soccer field where Abbie would be waiting for her. Kat was only a few minutes late, but she didn’t like her thirteen-year-old daughter being alone too long after practice ended. And now, with Marcus’s words ringing in her ears, the uneasy feeling in her mind escalated.

  Kat scanned the sideline where a few kids and parents milled about, talking to the coaches. Abbie wasn’t among them. Don’t panic. She’s here. There, on the other sideline holding two soccer balls and talking to a man with dark brown hair of average height and weight. He wore a dark blue sweatsuit and a whistle around his neck.

  “Abbie!”

  She waved, said something to the man, and jogged over.

  “Who was that?”

  “He said he was an assistant coach for the Raptors and came out to scout our team, you know?”

  The man strolled toward the far end of the field.

  “Said?” Kat stared at the worry darting across Abbie’s face. “You don’t believe him?”

  “I don’t remember him . . .” Abbie dropped the soccer balls and nosed one of them with her foot. “And I know all the coaches for the Raptors. We all do. We’ve played ’em enough times.”

  “Maybe he’s new.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What else?”

  “It was kinda weird.” Abbie shifted her weight and dropped her eyes. “He said knee and ankle injuries happened a lot of times to girl soccer players. And that sometimes accidents happen off the field too. It felt like he was talking about me.”

  A wave of heat washed over Kat and she laid her hand on Abbie’s shoulder. “I want you to hang out here for a few minutes. I’m going to go have a conversation with this supposed coach.”

  She looked up to where the man had been a moment earlier, but he was gone. Kat glanced around the field and at the parking lot, but the man had vanished. Her breathing quickened.

  “Where’d he go?” Abbie stared up at her, gray eyes worried.

  “He must have jogged off. Let’s go talk to your coach.”

  “Hey, Kat,” the coach said when they reached her. “Abbie’s looking good out there.”

  “Thanks, she’s loving this season.”

  Kat pointed across the field to where the man and Kat had talked. “Coach, do you know the man my daughter was talking to a few minutes ago?”

  “I was going to ask Abbie the same question.” The coach bent over, picked up one of the ball bags at her feet, and opened it, and Abbie tossed her soccer balls inside.

  “He said he was an assistant coach for the Raptors.”

  “Then he’s lying.” The coach glanced over to where the man had stood with Abbie. “There are creeps everywhere, Kat. I’ll be keeping my eyes wide open. I’m thinking you and Abbie should do the same.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  DANA STEPPED THROUGH THE STATION’S GLASS DOORS at seventy thirty on Monday morning and sent a silent prayer skyward as she clipped past the front desk toward her office. Give me eyes to see today. She repeated the prayer at nine. And eleven. And again at one. nothing.

  An ordinary day slid by with ordinary rate negotiations and ordinary clients and ordinary salespeople brainstorming on the same problems they brainstormed every day. And miracle of miracles, her budget deficit had shrunk while she was gone—far from enough—but enough that she would sleep better tonight than she had in a while. Maybe this was God’s plan. A day of respite.

  The only item skewing from the norm was Dana’s strange desire for water and how it coincided with Toni’s trips past her office. Had her breakfast and lunch been overly salty? No. She hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning and lunch had been a Cobb salad, with just a pinch of salt on the eggs. But every time Toni walked by her door, Dana felt like she’d just finished an hour on the treadmill without a drop of H2O.

  At three that afternoon, Toni skipped into her office and slid into the chair in front of Dana’s desk. Dana held up her finger, grabbed the water bottle to her right, and took three huge gulps.

  “Thirsty today?” Toni bobbed her head back and forth.

  “Very. Don’t ask why because I don’t know.”

  “Gotta second?”

  “Sure.”

  As Toni explained the promotion she wanted to do for the station in the fall, Dana continued to guzzle the water. Toni stopped turning the pages of her proposal, put her hands on her hips, and cocked her head. “Build an ark, baby. You’re going to float away, girl.”

  “I know, it’s weird. I don’t know what’s going on with me today.”

  As Dana set down the bottle, her vision blurred and a picture of a dried-out, dying sunflower filled her mind. The ground around the base of the flower was cracked and a trickle of water ran off to the side, too far away to bring moisture to the wilting plant. A man stood in the distance, arms folded, a scowl on his face. The picture faded and Toni’s face came back into focus. The puzzle pieces snapped into place. The Lord had been speaking to her all day.

  Dana turned and stared out her windows at the Space Needle and whispered to herself, “That’s Toni, isn’t it?”

  “What did you say?”

  She turned back to Toni. “Nothing.”

  “You said, ‘That’s Toni, isn’t it?’”

  Dana stared at her.

  “What is me?”

  “I, uh . . .”

  “What’s me, girl?”

  Dana rose from her chair, went to her office door, and closed it. She smoothed her blouse and her skirt and eased back over to her desk and returned to her seat. Here we go.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  “I’m really good.” Dana hesitated, then leapt off the cliff. “But I don’t think you are.”

  Toni frowned. “I’m great. What are you talking about?”

  “You’re not great. You’re hurting inside.”

  “What have you been smoking?” Toni crossed her legs and squinted at Dana like she was crazy. “I’m fine.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “Listen, if you have something you gotta say, spit it out.”

  “We’ve been friends for a long time, so the moment you tell me to stop talking about this, I will.”

  Toni bit her upper lip and folded her arms. “Go ahead.”

  Dana leaned forward and rested her elbows on her desk. “I think you’re dying inside. You’re this flower always full of sun and brightness for everyone around you, but you’re drying up. The ground around is cracked but no one knows it.”

  Toni’s eyes went wide and her head fell back. Then forward. And the dam broke. Tears came and didn’t stop. From Toni, one of the strongest women Dana knew. Toni, whom she’d known for three years and had never seen cry. They sat in the tears and silence for at least five minutes till Toni’s voice rose into the stillness like a sparrow taking evening flight.

  “Where are you getting this stuff?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me.” Dana leapt further. “You give so much to everyone around you. And most of all to your husband. But he never gives you water.”

  More tears. “I’ll believe you.”

  “The Spirit of God told me—showed me.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Dana laughed and Toni joined in with a mix of laughing and crying. Dana rose again, eased over, sat on the armrest of Toni’s chair, and wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders. And let her friend cry. After enough time had slid by for the sun to have moved beyond Dana’s windows, Toni patted Dana’s hand.

  “I think I just moved from I don’t believe in God to I might someday.”

  Dana hugged her friend and smiled. “I love you, Toni. And you’ll get through it. We’ll get through it.”

  Toni squeezed back and it wasn’t Toni, it was God’s hand, and soon Dana’s tears joined those of her friend.

  That night Dana sat in her study with an oil lamp providing a soft light as she studied the Gospels, seeing Jesus in a way she’d never seen him. Her emotions bounced
from ones of wonder to determination to press further in, but in the end a sense of foreboding settled over her. Reece said the people on the front lines were the first ones shot at in any war. Today with Toni she’d definitely been on the front line. And she couldn’t shake the feeling a sniper rifle was pointed at her head.

  THIRTY

  BRANDON’S CELL PHONE WENT OFF AT EIGHT O’CLOCK ON Monday morning, and it was exactly the person he wanted to talk to. Kevin. He wanted to tell his manager about Well Spring and how powerful it had been. He stumbled into his kitchen and turned on the coffee, trying to figure out a way he could talk about the retreat without sounding nuts.

  What would he say? “How’s it been going? Well, this Reece character believes he can beam all over the place like in Star Trek, dive into people’s souls like they’re swimming pools, make ourselves invisible, have modern-day visions, and see demons in church aisles. Other than that, it was your typical, boring Bible study.”

  He answered on the fourth ring, and as the smell of fresh-brewed coffee filled his nose, he agreed to meet Kevin at Tully’s at ten thirty.

  When Brandon walked through the door of Tully’s and glanced around the coffee shop for Kevin, his gaze stopped for a moment on a guy at the back of the room where he and Kevin usually sat who looked vaguely familiar. The man was mammoth—probably played for the Seahawks. Brandon continued his sweep of the place, but no Kevin. He went to the front counter and ordered a cinnamon frappuccino. Still no Kevin by the time the drink was ready, so he sauntered toward the back to find seats.

  As he scanned the room for an open spot, his feet stopped as if he’d stepped in instantly drying Super Glue. In the exact spot where the linebacker had just sat was Kevin. A moment later Brandon’s drink slipped out of his hand and crashed to the floor. His heart pounded as he fumbled to pick up his coffee—thank goodness the lid had stayed on—and watched his friend transform from his five-foot-nine manager into Thor.

  Brandon set his coffee down, mashed the palms of his hands into his eyes, and pressed hard. He looked up and it happened again. Kevin was Kevin, then he wasn’t. His manager was changing back and forth like a holographic book cover where you tilt it one way and you see one picture, then you tilt it another way and the image morphs into something completely different.

  “What is this, Lord?” Brandon whispered to himself.

  There is so much more strength in him than what he shows you. And so much more talent than even he knows himself.

  Reece said they would start seeing into the spiritual realm, but Brandon didn’t think it meant seeing things like this. Kevin spotted him and waved him over. As Brandon walked to the back of the coffee shop, the transformations stopped. But his pulse kept pounding away like the pistons on a stock car.

  After he settled into his seat, Kevin pulled out a calendar and a packet of photos. “I need to firm up our concert schedule for next season, and there are a couple of dates I wasn’t sure about. Then I need you to take a look at the shots from the photo shoot we did a few weeks back, because one of them is going on the cover of your next CD. Then I’d like to hear about your time out in Colorado with Guru Reece and Dana and the physics dude.”

  Brandon stared at Kevin. Why had he never seen how strong his friend was?

  “Okay.” He took a drink of his frappuccino. “Choose a good shot of me. I know you will. Schedule the dates and the cities how you think it will be best for everyone. I know you’ll do a better job than I could. And I had a great time in Colorado.”

  Brandon placed his palms on Kevin’s papers and slid them to the side. “Now I want to talk about another issue. Something important.”

  “What?”

  “You.” Brandon stared at his friend till Kevin laughed. “What’s going on with you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Kevin shook his head. “I’m scheduling tour dates, picking photos, and hanging with my friend.” He held his two forefingers up and swirled them in a circle. “We’re rocking.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “You want to talk about what’s going on with me?”

  “Yeah. In your life.”

  “I’m missing what you’re driving at.”

  “You’re an amazing manager, Kevin. I would be dead without you, both literally and figuratively, so don’t take this the wrong way, but what would you be doing if you weren’t working for me?”

  Kevin slumped back in his chair. “Why are you asking me this?”

  “It’s important.”

  His manager’s perpetual smile vanished and his eyes grew distant. “I’m not sure what I’d be doing.”

  “Really? How long will it take you to get sure?” Brandon leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Let me put it this way. If thirty million dropped in your lap tomorrow, what would you do with your days and nights?”

  “I love what I do. I love being your manager. Truly. So that’s what I’d do during the day.”

  “But if I didn’t exist and you had that money, what would you do? Find another musician to manage?”

  Kevin slid his finger around the rim of his coffee cup three times before answering. “It’s not something I’m ready to talk about.”

  “Sorry, I don’t care. It’s something you need to talk about.”

  Kevin glanced around him, then lowered his voice. “Is this part of your guru-guy training? To get people to talk about things they don’t want to discuss?”

  “The truth is always worth a discussion.”

  Kevin tilted his head back and as he did, the vision of him pumped up as some kind of Norse god reappeared, then vanished. “I want to do what you do.”

  “What?” Brandon pushed back and slapped both hands on the table.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you really? Write songs? Sing? Do concerts, the whole thing?” Brandon shook his head and laughed.

  “Is that funny?”

  “No. It’s the coolest and most amazing thing I’ve heard in, well, I heard some amazing things up at Well Spring . . . Shut up, Brandon. Yes, I think that’s crazy cool.”

  Kevin looked up from under his glasses. “You’re serious.”

  “Very. You’re the package. You have the look, you’ve got the personality.” Brandon held up his fingers in a square and looked through them as if they were the frame of a TV camera. “Just one question. Do you have any musical ability?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve dabbled at songwriting since I was a kid. And I’ve been singing even longer. But I’ve always thought I’d be like one of those kids on American Idol who everyone knows can’t sing except themselves.”

  “I don’t get it. Why have you never told me this?”

  “I didn’t know how you’d react.”

  “What?” Brandon opened his arms. “You thought I’d laugh at you? Tell you it was stupid?”

  “Now that you say it, no.”

  Brandon flipped over Kevin’s notepad and pulled out a pen and made notes. “First, you’re going to play a few of your songs for me. Second, we’ll record them with the full band. And third, if I like what you’ve got, we’re going to start writing songs together.” He ripped off the piece of paper and handed it to Kevin. “And we’re going to do it soon.”

  Kevin sat with his mouth slightly open, his eyes growing moist. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Freedom, baby. It’s all about being set free for those with eyes to see.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  DANA WALKED INTO THE STATION LOBBY ON TUESDAY morning hoping for an uneventful day but knowing she wouldn’t get it. The dread from the night before still hung on her like a thirty-pound block of ice. After a department head meeting and a promotions meeting, she stepped into her office and unloaded her briefcase. Fifteen red-flagged e-mails took her attention till ten thirty. She didn’t remember having her next meeting till lunch but pulled up her calendar to be sure.

  Dana frowned as she stared at her calendar. ALEXIS SOLIA 10:45 A.M.–11:30 A.M.

  “Who is Alexis
Solia, Rebecca?” Dana called through her door. “I don’t remember that being on my calendar.”

  Rebecca appeared at Dana’s door a moment later. “I set it up last Thursday while you were in Colorado, but I forgot to put it on your calendar till this morning. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries. Who is she with?”

  “TBWA/Chiat/Day out of LA.” Rebecca eased over to Dana’s desk.

  “What’s the appointment for?”

  “I’m assuming to talk to you about their national accounts and spending money on the stations.”

  “I like that thought. We could use the revenue in a big way.”

  That was an understatement. No significant buys came in while she was in Colorado, which meant they were seven days closer to the end of the quarter and only pennies closer to meeting budget. Let this lady be ready to spend, Lord.

  As Rebecca clipped out of her office, Dana warmed her hands on her cup of coffee and tried to push the heaviness from her mind. A quick prayer helped, but not much. It felt like her mind and body had been slowed down to three quarters of her normal pace, and nothing she could do would speed things up.

  This was probably what Reece had warned them about last Wednesday night at Well Spring. That anytime significant breakthrough happened, there would be resistance and the enemy would throw oppression at them. She pushed back from her desk and prayed again. But the fog remained.

  Ten minutes later Rebecca poked her head around the corner. “Your appointment is here. Are you ready?”

  “Almost. I need a little, uh, me-time. Can you wait three, then go get her?”

  “Of course.” She smiled and pulled Dana’s door almost closed.

  Dana closed her eyes and prayed again. For strength. For clarity. For covering. Peace was starting to come just as a knock on her door frame startled her. Rebecca stood with the woman who must be her appointment.

  “May we come in?” Rebecca asked.

  Dana stood and motioned them forward with both hands. “Yes, yes, please come in.”

  Rebecca waved at her behind the woman’s back. “I’m out for a few errands. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”