“Yes, you are in control,” he answered. “You need to search for Gaza's daughter. Her mother is dead and her father’s in a coma. Look for someone dealing with loss.”
Could I do that? Could I find her by searching for her own personal hell? Wherever she was, she was experiencing the loss of a loved one. I thought of my love for my family, and of how I would feel if I lost them.
My soul reached out into the maelstrom of realities. In this realm, as in Dantra, thought became reality. But here, the fears and lusts of its inhabitants generated horrific self-made prisons. It was difficult sifting through the realities of unstable minds, but I realized, much to my surprise, that I had been created for this task. I could walk this realm because I had lived this realm. It spoke to something deep within me. A core belief? An insecurity? Regardless, it was the part of me that caused mistrust in my Creator, but ironically, it was the same part that allowed me to connect with these wretched souls. It was why I was uniquely qualified to rescue Gaza's daughter.
I latched on to the feeling of loss, and the world changed again. It was night and we were walking across a bridge. Several hopeless souls stood poised on the railing, working up the courage to jump. A young man leaned out and I reached to grab him, but Humphrey held my arm. “We can't help him. He has to work through this on his own.”
I turned to Humphrey and studied his face. “We're helping Gaza's daughter, how is that different?”
“This trial is made for that man. He would not respond to you.”
I understood what he meant. God knew I would respond to the angels when they came for me. He knew I had come to the end of myself and was ready to receive their message. I turned from the suicides. It was pointless to try to help; I did not have the message they would hear.
“There was a car accident, right?”
“Yes,” said Humphrey.
“Then maybe we're looking in the wrong place.”
The bridge dissolved and a new scene took form around us, this time, a busy city street. There was a flutter and a woman screamed. I searched for her amidst the sea of pedestrians shimmering into view across the street. She was standing over a body. A crowd was beginning to form.
“We're looking for victims inside a car,” said Humphrey.
“I know!” I snapped at him. “This is all new to me!”
“I'm just saying...”
“If you think this is so easy, you try it!”
“Now you're just being disagreeable,” he said, folding his arms.
The environment shifted again and we found ourselves on a remote road. In the air, droplets of water hovered, like a million tiny tears-- as though time itself had frozen on the most tragic of moments, and nature could not contain its sorrow. I reached out and poked a drop. It left a hollow space, and ran down my finger.
Through the curtain of rain, I saw a woman kneeling by the side of the road. I approached her, creating a path through the droplets. At the bottom of the embankment was the object of her interest, a silver BMW, wrapped around a telephone pole.
I looked down upon the still and somber woman, then back at Humphrey. “She is too old.”
Humphrey’s brow furrowed. “She's not a little girl anymore, the accident happened over twenty years ago.”
“Twenty years? Wouldn't she be past the grief?”
He gazed down at her. “It is not grief that brings her to this dark place. It is guilt.”
I studied her for a long moment, then knelt beside her on the wet pavement. “Excuse me, Miss. What is your father's name?”
She stiffened. “I don't have a father.”
“I'm sorry, what was your father's name?”
“Robert Helm.” Her voice was distant. “Did you know him?”
“I still do.”
“That's not funny!” She stood up.
“I'm not making a joke.” I followed her into the road. “I know your father.”
She stopped on the center line, and for a moment her eyes were uncertain. Then her face contorted in agony as she looked up into the darkness. “HE'S DEAD!” The sky opened up and rain poured down in torrents so thick I had to shield my eyes to see her. She had collapsed to the pavement and was shivering in the downpour.
I knelt beside her. “Come with me, Constance!” I hollered over the roar of the rain. “I will bring you to him!”
“You lie! He's dead! You can't know him!”
I tangibly felt her sadness and guilt, and although she appeared as a woman, I sensed that inwardly she was a still little girl. “Constance, listen to me! When I saw your father, I saw him do this!” I held my pinky out and swooped it in a J shape, then tapped my knuckles together three times.
Her eyelids flicked at the rain as she looked up at me.
“I understand that it was a secret between the two of you! but I know about it! Please believe me when I say I know your father! He loves you very much, Constance. And I can bring you to him!
“But you don’t understand! I can't leave! If I leave, Mommy and Daddy won't wake up!” She looked up at the sky. “I CAN’T LEAVE!” The rain fell harder.
I leaned in closer and shielded my eyes from the deluge. “Come with me! The ambulance is here! They won't let anything happen to your mommy and daddy!”
The scene shifted forward in time and the car was swamped with activity. Lights flashed from the emergency vehicles, paramedics descended the embankment. Constance clutched my jacket and wept. “Please don't let anything happen to my mommy and daddy.”
I gave her a hug. “Everything is going to be all right, Constance. I promise I won’t let...”
A piercing screech filled the air and my head snapped around. A dark form descended onto the hood of the car. The metal gave way under the weight of its massive body. “You do not belong here!” It hissed.
Another creature, thin and humanoid, came out of the shadows. “She cannot go with you.” It droned.
Humphrey stepped between us and the creatures. “Take her back to the portal! I’ll meet you there!”
The creature on the car opened its deformed mouth and let out another screech.
Humphrey’s face snapped back. “Go!”
I pulled Constance by the arm and we headed down the opposite embankment.
Through the wind and rain I heard shouting behind me. “I am a servant of the most high God!” Humphrey declared with confidence. “It is HE you do battle with!”
The air filled with a piercing shriek, but I did not hear what followed, we were in a corn field now, bursting through a flapping flurry of green. I looked over my shoulder. Through the cornstalks I caught a glimpse of a tall gray shape pursuing us. And it was gaining. If we did not get out of the field soon we would be overtaken.
I applied my will to the substance around us and the cornfield morphed into an open air field. Our footfalls echoed on the tarmac. I looked back again-- at an army of thin shadowy figures. My heart pounded in my chest as Constance pleaded with me to stop.
“We can't stop! It's just a little farther!”
If I had been alone I could have escaped easily because the memory of Dantra had fully returned. But Constance did not remember yet and shifting through thought quickly would be painful for her.
“This way!” I pulled her into an airplane hanger. It was large, hollow, and empty-- except for a tool table to the right. I snatched a large wrench off the table and pulled Constance toward the other side. Creatures poured into the hangar from every entrance. Constance screamed in wide-eyed terror as I pulled her toward the exit. “This way!”
We burst out of the hanger and were now running across rooftops. The creatures were everywhere now. Constance let out a screech as something dove at her from the side. I twisted and pulled her out of the way. “We're almost there!”
But it was too late. We skidded to a halt. We were completely surrounded. I swung the wrench wildly at the tall shadowy creatures. Their yellow eyes burned with hatred, their long thin fingers made clicking noises as they
groped closer, and closer. Constance pressed against me. I held the wrench out menacingly, but it was no use. We were toast.
A large shadow passed over us and the creatures cowered back. I looked up to see a dark angel hovering overhead. The air from his mighty wings beat down on us.
“LET! THEM! GO!” His voice rattled the rooftops.
The creatures shrank back and I grabbed Constance by the arm and brought her to the edge of the building. She looked down and let out a shriek.
“Constance. Constance! Look at me! You can do this. I know it doesn't make sense to you, but you can do this!”
She was hysterical.
“Trust me! Everything will be okay!”
She looked down at the water far below, then clutched my jacket.
“I promise you, it’s okay. You can do this.”
She took my hand and squeezed her eyes shut. “I trust you.”
Together we leaped into the void.
The water was frigid, and a frenzy of bubbles surrounded us. I pulled up on Constance and kicked hard until we broke the surface. Then with great effort, and a lot of coughing, we made our way up onto the sandy shore. It was still dark, but God's love was stronger here. The portal was close.
“Thomas!”
I looked up the beach. Humphrey was standing in front of a sheer cliff. “This way!” he hollered.
When we reached him, he placed his hand on the rock face. It shuddered as the portal opened, then the three of us stepped through.
“Man, am I glad to see you!” I said, grabbing Humphrey's arm.
“It was easy to get away once you took Constance,” he said.
“We wouldn't have made it if you hadn't sent that angel.”
He gave me a puzzled look, and a grumpy response. “I didn't send an angel.”
“Well whoever sent him is okay in my book.” I turned toward Constance. Her eyes were wide, her expression, one of awe.
“What is this place? It-it feels like church. Is this Ethral?”
“It may take a little time.” I grinned. “But it will come to you.”
She looked at Humphrey, then back to me. “You know.” She gave a small chuckle. “I don't even know your names.”
“Well, I'm Thomas,” I said, “and grumpy here is Humphrey.”
She smiled.
He grumbled and walked away. “We have work to do. I'm supposed to take you to the overlook.”
Constance and I looked at each other. “What's the overlook?” she called after him.
“Just follow me and you'll find out.” Humphrey took another step, then froze in his tracks.
“What's wrong?” I approached and circled around him, but he gave no response. I looked back at Constance. She too had frozen.
Before my confusion could completely take hold, I found myself caught up in a familiar force which drew me toward the gray porous ceiling high above. Humphrey and Constance grew smaller and smaller until I could no longer make them out next to the crystal fortress far below.
CHAPTER 31
THE URGE
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I found myself in the darkened hallway of my old college dorm, searching for something, but I couldn’t remember what. An unknown impulse drove me forward.
“Hey, Thomas, wait up!”
I turned to see my friend Stephen rushing up the hallway, with a stack of books precariously balanced in his arms. “You were supposed to get me,” he said, attempting to push his glasses up with his shoulder.
I assisted him with a poke. “I'm not going to class.”
“What are you talking about? We have finals.”
“I'm not interested in that anymore,” I said. “There are more important things.”
He stared at me. “Have you lost your mind?”
I smiled. “No, I think I've found it.”
“What exactly have you found?” He put the books down.
“I'm not sure, but it's peaceful.” I turned and began walking through the shopping mall, passing shop after shop, with Stephen following close behind.
“We have plans,” he said.
“I know, and we can continue to move forward. I just don't think it's important to put so much weight on making a buck. Too many people will get hurt.”
“What? Have you gone lazy on me?”
“It's not the hard work that bothers me, Stephen. It's what we're working toward. I don't want to waste the talents God has given me on the selfish pursuits of money and comfort.”
Stephen came to an abrupt stop. “What are you talking about? You gonna become a monk or something?” He kept talking, but I took no heed, I’d found what I was looking for.
The heavy metal door creaked open, revealing a huge locker room. I left Stephen standing in the corridor, his mouth gaping.
The place was filled with football players preparing for a game, but I wasn’t interested in any of that. I walked past them into a row of lockers, then continued on through more lockers, past aisle after aisle, then into a huge shower area. Drawn to the other end I entered back into more rows of lockers, row upon row, until suddenly I found myself surrounded by a group of cheerleaders.
I looked down and noticed that all I was wearing was my underwear and a pair of slightly tattered wolf slippers. I looked back up in a panic. Fortunately for me, the ladies took no notice.
Under different circumstances, I might have explored this unique and rare opportunity, but regretfully, I left the scene of scantily clad women and headed toward the bathroom stalls. There were more urgent needs to attend to.
The graffiti laden door swung open-- but to my utter amazement and despair, the wall behind the toilet, was missing The stall was wide open. I could see out into the shopping mall. Across the way, an old woman sat staring at me, her shopping bags nestled neatly against her leg. This was not going to do! I stepped out and checked the next stall. It was the same. I checked the next, and the next...
Only when I turned to consider one of the sinks as a possible solution to my problem, did I realize, that I was dreaming.
I opened my eyes and with a grunt, rolled off the mattress. I grabbed my robe, and headed for the bathroom.
My next stop was the kitchen. I wasn't hungry, but that had never stopped me from snacking before. I helped myself to a piece of chocolate cake, then walked over to the door leading to the patio. Someone was sitting on the edge of the pool. I slid the door open, walked over casually, and squatted down.
“Cake?”
“No thanks,” said Rebecca.
“Having trouble sleeping?”
She swished her feet in the water. “I had a bad dream.”
“About what?” I took a seat beside her.
“It was weird. First I was in a funeral parlor, and you were...” She looked over at me. “You were dead. --But I wasn't sad, because I knew you were okay.” She paused and furrowed her brow. “Then I followed what I think was your ghost across this really long white bridge until you disappeared into a wall of swirling smoke. Beyond the wall, I could hear people being tortured, screaming for mercy.” She shuddered. “Then I woke up.”
“--Wow.”
“I told you it was weird.”
I put my arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, well, you've been dealing with a lot lately and-- dreams are always weird.”
“I know, but it was still unnerving.” She studied my face. “So why are you here? You have a bad dream too?”
I smiled. “You don't want to know.”
“What?” She returned my smile.
“Well, I was trying to find a place to go pee.”
She laughed.
“And all I could find was a stall that was wide open to this shopping mall. Everyone could see me.”
She laughed harder, then put her head on my shoulder.
We sat for a time staring at the reflections in the pool, and an overwhelming feeling of gratitude washed over me. I had lost so much, but had been given back far more than I ever could have hoped for. It made th
e loss almost bearable.
“It was hard for a long time,” Rebecca said, breaking the silence. “But after a while I was able to let you go. Then it was awkward when I found out you were awake.” She lifted her head up. “Don't get me wrong, I was happy you were awake. But I had built a relationship with a silent sleeping father. You were everything to me, because you were a fantasy.” She looked thoughtful. “It was that fantasy that shut out my stepdad, and when I heard you were awake, I wondered if it would shut you out too.” She shook her head. “How could you possibly live up to the expectations of a foolish little girl?”
I squeezed her. “Oh, honey...”
“I missed you, Dad. And I hope we can start fresh. I want to know who you really are. I want to replace the fantasy with something real.”
“I’d stick with the fantasy if I were you.”
She scowled playfully.
“I’m serious. I’m not the saint your mother is. You deserve a better dad than me.”
“I don’t need a saint, Dad. I need you, the father God gave me.”
“Yeah, well, you got short changed.”
“Why do you say that?”
I slumped. “I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling bad because I don’t want to be a part of this whole battle for humanity thing. I feel like a selfish jerk.”
“Is it so bad you want to reclaim your life? You've been through a lot, and besides, you need time to recuperate! I'm sure there are plenty of capable people at the center who can handle this kind of stuff. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about it.”
“What? Are you saying I'm not action hero material?”
She laughed. “Look at you, you're skin and bones.”
“And wrinkly.” I smiled. “Don’t forget wrinkly.”
She leaned over and nudged me with her shoulder. “You're right where you're supposed to be, Dad. The cloak and dagger games are best left to the professionals. But you know what, you are a remarkable man.” She looked at me, her eyes smiling. “I believe God has a plan for you. I don’t know what it is, but something tells me you were meant for something great.
“Well something tells me I will be spending a lot more time at home now, than at the office.”
Vrin: Ten Mortal Gods Page 29
