Copula Chronicles: The Complete Collection: Origin, Descend, Ascend, Legacy

by Venessa Kimball

  I bite my lower lip as I remember mom’s sullen face when she told me that it was time for them to let things take its course. My only retort is, “We’re growing up and I guess they realize it.”

  The sound of the doorbell sounding pulls us from the conversation. Licia moves toward the doorway to greet the customer, but not without telling me, “If that’s the case, then it’s about time. But, something tells me it isn’t. Just sayin’.”

  Licia’s sixth sense has always been sensitive, so it’s hard for me to take what she says lightly. The doorbell sounds again, another customer. I get up from the stool and head to the front of the store.

  Like clockwork, the six o’clock wave of customers head into the store. It’s not just a weekday thing. I’ve watched the natural flow of this behavior over the years. People are out to dinner and in town. They decide to stroll and window-shop after dinner. We’re in the middle of a wave of browsers, when the dull hum tickles my ears. It’s slight, almost indistinguishable. I try to remain busy with the customers, helping them find the books they’re looking for. My heart starts to beat faster with nervousness, knowing that this is just the beginning of something that never ends well for me. I check out those that have made their selections at the register, keeping busy and somewhat distracted from the giant, humming elephant in the room.

  As seven o’clock in the evening rolls around, the humming has increased, sending the vibration into the pit of my stomach. The tremors have spread to my hands as I look down at them and rub them together.

  I try to fight back by breathing slowly, closing my eyes periodically between greeting and helping the customers. Suddenly, a wave of heat and nausea strike. The walls feel like they’re closing in around me and shards of light start multiplying before my eyes. Shit, am I going to pass out?

  Vague hissing whispers just below the humming bombard my head; one whisper running into another making no sense at all.

  With the sound of the doorbell and whispers as well as the light, heat and claustrophobia, it’s too much for me. I feel like my legs can’t keep me up any longer. I look for Licia, to signal that I need her, but the light has filled my vision completely and I’m blind. I can’t see anything. People are talking all around me. “Excuse me Miss. Do you carry C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters?”

  “I, uh. I can’t help you right now. Elicia?”

  I hear another voice, “Well, do they have it?”

  “She can’t help us.”

  “Well, is there someone who can?”

  With the humming quickly increasing, I can feel the conversations around me turning against me, and I find it hard to concentrate. I can’t detect the volume of my voice when I call to her again “Elicia!”

  The vibration is so strong my skin is tingling with pins and needles. I hear Elicia to my right whisper. “Hey, Jes, you don’t look so good. You’re white as a ghost. Stay right here.”

  She quickly calms the couple looking for C.S. Lewis. “I believe we have a copy over here.”

  Suddenly, my whole body begins to shake uncontrollably, my head feeling as if it’s about to be ripped off from the force of the shake, then nothing.

  When I come to, Elicia is speaking to someone. “I don’t know. One minute she was fine. The next, she was standing in the center aisle, white-faced and shaking. I thought you said her transition wouldn’t be so erratic? Her mind and body will melt down if she keeps going like this, Ezra!”

  Ezra? Ezra Kahn? What the hell is he doing here? Someone is pulling me to my feet. A cold hand runs over my forehead. I blink my eyes slowly. Elicia is standing in front of me, shooing the crowd away. “Okay, okay everyone. She’s fine, just a low blood sugar attack. Crazy college students think they can live on one meal of ramen a day.”

  She laughs a little to try to make light of the situation. “Please keep shopping, and I’ll ring you up. Our friend Jesca is going to get some real food and rest, right Mr. Kahn?”

  When I’m able, I set myself upright and look at Ezra.

  “Jesca, did anybody ever tell you that food is a necessity?”

  While it’s welcomed for him to hold me up on my wobbly legs, I’m defensive about his being here at my bookstore. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Ezra looks up at Elicia at the register and raises his eyebrows. “Seems like her spunk has returned.”

  Elicia looks over the head of a customer and gives him a thumbs up before returning to the next customer in line. I shift away, making him release me and stand on my own two feet. “I got it. Thanks.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  His flat comment sounds almost father-like.

  “Well, I planned to grab something small after we closed.”

  Elicia rings up the customer and stalks over to me with her arms crossed. “Closing time has come and gone for you dork. You need to get some food. Right, Mr. Kahn?”

  I step away from them both. “Okay, first off how the hell do you know each other? Second, what were you talking about while I was passed out? Some transition bullshit!”

  Ezra and Elicia look at each other sideways. A man standing at the checkout counter interrupts. “Excuse me, Miss.”

  Elicia looks over her shoulder then back between Ezra and me. “I think Mr. Kahn will fill you in on what’s going on.”

  Before she turns away and walks to the front counter, she lowers her eyes knowing that some betrayal has been wedged between us.

  I look at Ezra as he stands in front of me, arms crossed like some kind of bodyguard. I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  I look up at Elicia who’s watching me and Ezra. “You know what, I’m out of here.”

  The crisp air hits me as soon as I open the door. I need to be alone, but Ezra isn’t giving up as he follows on my heels. “She seems like she really is protective of you.”

  I start to walk more briskly from Benson’s. “Who?”

  “Elicia Montgomery.”

  My cutting words are as sharp as I can make them. “Yeah, well she’s keeping shit from me, which I never thought my best friend would do! You obviously know her better than I do!”

  Ezra keeps pace with me even when I bump up my stride. “Look, I don’t know why the hell you’re following me, but I don’t need your help!”

  Ezra steps in front of me. “Again, I beg to differ.”

  I try to move around him, but he steps in front of me again and puts his hands up in surrender. “Margot’s is right here. Let’s get you some food and I’ll tell you everything. Elicia isn’t to blame. I’ll take that burden.”

  I step back from him and give one more jab because I’m pissed off and I’m hoping it makes me feel better. “Are you like some kind of stalker? Because you’re everywhere I am lately and it’s completely creepy!”

  He folds his arms over his chest, mirroring my wide stance but a good two feet taller than I do. “Jes, I’m not the one you need to be worried about.”

  He gestures toward the door of Margot’s Deli for me to enter.

  We sit at the bar top as Ezra orders for me making sure Sally makes the order to go.

  Ten minutes later, we’re walking out the door with our food, Ezra leading us down the sidewalk.

  “Where are we going? I didn’t agree to go on some kind of field trip.”

  I pride myself on the consistent sarcasm I’m hammering him with. He deserves it!

  Walking quickly, Ezra answers. “We’re going to campus. We can eat there and discuss what I should have told you sooner.”

  I jog a bit to catch up to his longer strides. “Wait. What did you say?”

  I feel the burning start in my throat and travel quickly to the pit of my stomach.

  He stops, turns, and looks at me firmly. “We’ll discuss it when we get there.”

  With that, he turns and keeps walking; leaving
me wondering what the hell he’s going to disclose when we get there.

  CHAPTER 5: FRIENDS OF YOURS

  Jesca

  Ezra’s office is substantial for a professor. We sit at his desk opposite each other and eat in silence. I mainly pick, too wrapped up in what he has to tell me. As Ezra eats, my interest settles on an ant farm.

  I give a sarcastic-filled mumble, “Friends of yours?”

  I remember having an ant farm when I was eight years old. I’d sit for hours giving each of them names and create elaborate stories in which they starred. They each had a distinct job in the farm and their purpose was survival divided into bad days—ants trapped or waiting for death—and good days—ants being rescued or digging a new tunnel to the unknown. I was always so excited for them when they cleared a new passage. I knew the big picture of the farm, while they could only see millimeters ahead of themselves.

  “They’re fascinating little creatures, aren’t they?”

  Ezra is watching me gaze upon the ant farm. “They’re creating their own world in there. Each has a purpose. Each has a significant part in the functionality and nature of their survival individually and cumulatively. Some make good choices and some make bad ones. The natural balance of good and bad reveals itself in everything at some point in time.”

  He wipes his mouth with his napkin and tosses it into the wastebasket next to his desk. “You know, we’re just like those ants.”

  “Oh, really? How’s that?”

  “Remember our conversation the first time we ran into each other at Margot’s?”

  I nod and keep my response to the point, wanting to know why I’m sitting here with my professor who seems to know more about me than I do. “Wormholes, Einstein, negative mass, multi-universes.”

  Ezra leans back and rests his hand on the arms rests of the chair. “Well, these little ants are in a pursuit just as many of us are. They want to cut out new tunnels with the hopes of finding something greater than what they have. Sometimes they tunnel and find they’ve gone nowhere. Other times, they tunnel, get trapped, and need to be saved. Sometimes there’s mutiny against one. The others either save it or kill and eat it to keep their expanding world unpolluted.”

  I don’t know where this is going. “Yeah, well that’s disgusting. Listen, you said you were going to tell me what’s going on!”

  I lean back in my chair. “I’d really like to get home, so if we could just get this over with that would be great.”

  Ezra’s gaze is steady as he speaks evenly. “As a child you were adopted by the Sera family. You have a younger sister, biological to the Sera’s. Her name is Bethany. Your best friend is Elicia Montgomery. You’ve been inseparable since you were three years old. You have nightmares, but only one that’s become more frequent and vivid in the recent weeks. You’re also experiencing unexplainable abilities.”

  I put my hand up to stop him. “Whoa! How do you know about me, my life and my family? You know, I could report you to the dean of students. I don’t need this shit in my life right now!”

  I rise up from my chair intent on leaving, but his words keep me from moving. “Roan and Delilah are old friends. We’re very close. And reporting me to the Dean of Students will do nothing for you. You’ve got nothing to go on.”

  Did he just call my bluff. Son of a bitch!

  I flop down in the seat as my voice quivers with rage. “Who the hell are you and how do you know my parents?”

  Ezra’s brown eyes don’t leave mine as he flatly says, “I’m a guardian.”

  I wait for more of an explanation. “Guardian. Like a freakin’ bodyguard? For who? Me?”

  I try to put two and two together with my parents leaving and wanting someone to keep an eye on me. “Woah! Wait a second. Did my parents hire you to watch me and my sister when they move?”

  Thinking that has to be it, I start to chuckle and relax a little. That’s why they were oddly calm about the move! “Okay, it’s making sense now!”

  Ezra doesn’t seem to find humor. “You think I’m a bodyguard? Jes—”

  His using my nickname is the last straw. “My name is Jesca, not Jes! That’s reserved for my family and friends, not for hired help!”

  Ezra leans forward in his chair. “Look, I’m not a fucking bodyguard to anyone, and the Dean of students won’t do shit! Will you just let me explain! Jesus Christ, you’re just like your mother!”

  I can’t help be taken aback by his words. I sit back in the chair and wait for him to continue. Ezra scratches his forehead and lowers his gaze. “Sorry, I just didn’t—I didn’t plan on it happening this way.”

  Okay, now he has me completely confused and worried.

  He motions to the ant farm. “Like those ants digging their tunnels in search of a new world, we as humans have tunneled in search of new worlds. I’m not talking Einstein and Rosen’s theories. I’m talking substantial research; wormholes, space travel, alternate universes, worlds, and the whole nine yards.”

  Ezra points to the ant farm now. “Just as those ants have failed to create tunnels due to lack of knowhow, theorists have fallen short. All except one. He had the knowledge. A scientist created a valid wormhole that could sustain its form long enough to allow human passage.”

  “I didn’t come for a science lesson. What’s this have to do with me?”

  “It has everything to do with you.”

  His irritation with me is visible as he runs his hands along his face. “Okay, so do you believe in Heaven and Hell?”

  “Yes. Of course I do.”

  “What if I told you that Heaven and Hell are very real places and have been created during the big bang, the metaphoric clap of God’s hands? A clap so strong it created multiple worlds, galaxies and universes endlessly rippling through space. And out of these planets, domains and realms, couldn’t a mere two represent Heaven and Hell?”

  He must see my mind working through this because he continues. “What if I also told you I believe that Jesus was the first space traveler between this world and Heaven as he ascended after his crucifixion? Jesus’ death created enough negative matter to open a wormhole, allowing his ascension to Heaven.”

  I admit his theories are fascinating, but I still fail to see where I fit into this. What’s all of this have to do directly with me and why the hell does Ezra think he’s a guardian? Guardian to what?

  Suddenly, Ezra leans forward and responds to my thought. “You’re a descendant of the very man other than Jesus Christ that’s traveled beyond our world through his very own wormhole.”

  I can barely get the words out through my defiant voice. “Come again?”

  Ezra settles back in his chair, preparing to tell me the whole story. “In the 1940’s, a physicist by the name of Sebastian Onoch became very interested in pursuing Einstein’s research, especially the traverse wormhole theory he developed with Rosen. The potential of creating traverse wormholes to other areas of space-time was his fascination. His career as a physicist for the US government was very mundane and uneventful, filled with pencil-pushing and routine standards expected of him on a daily basis. He lived for his pursuit of physics outside of his day job. Sebastian lived here, in Georgia, with his wife, Dobria, and their two sons, Caleb and Balthazar. Caleb was an athlete, a people pleaser and a kind-hearted child. Balthazar was intelligent and precocious, but lacked the social intelligence and personality his brother had. Balthazar spent much of his time reading, researching, problem solving, and studying. They were both very strong-willed children. In addition, they were both starved for Sebastian’s attention, acceptance and love. He received a call late one afternoon from the boys’ school. The director said that Dobria didn’t pick up the boys and asked if he could come get them. He collected them and drove home. He anticipated seeing Dobria once he arrived home thinking she may have forgotten to pick up the boys, but there was no sign of her. Dishes from th
e morning breakfast were still in the sink and the coffee pot was set to warm. As evening came, Sebastian took care of his boys then got them ready for bed when a knock came at the door.”

  ***

  The boys rush to the stairs behind Sebastian in hopes of getting a glimpse of their mother, bright-eyed and smiling with open arms. Instead, two uniformed men stand at the open door. “Mr. Onoch?”

  Sebastian clears his throat before answering. “Yes. I’m Mr. Onoch.”

  Sebastian knows something is wrong immediately. The shorter of the two men step forward and whisper, “Mr. Onoch, can you send your children to their rooms? We need to speak with you privately.”

  Sebastian puts his head down. “Of course.”

  He turns to his boys, who’re peeking from the staircase. “Boys, please head up to your rooms I’ll be there soon.”

  Balthazar starts to argue, “Dad, why can’t we—”

  Sebastian reprimands him. “Balthazar, don’t argue! Upstairs, please!”

  Both boys retreat up the stairs. Sebastian doesn’t waste time on inviting the officers in. “Where is my wife?”

  The tall, lanky officer responds grimly, “Mr. Onoch, your wife’s body was found not far from the lake this afternoon around 2 p.m. She was—”

  Sebastian stops them with assuring words. “No! My wife doesn’t go near the water, she can’t swim. You’ve made a mistake. She’s probably—”

  The short officer interrupts, “Mr. Onoch, we know it’s her, sir. Her identification wasn’t far from her body. It looked like there had been a struggle at the car. I’m sorry sir.”

  ***

  As Ezra takes a swig of his bottle of water, the scene he has painted of Sebastian and his family fades into the present. “The month that followed Dobria’s death was what would be expected of a family thrown into a tragic loss. Sebastian and the boys walked around the house in a fog, boxing items and labeling them for storage, goodwill, or their move to Colorado. The life they’d created was centered around Dobria and if they had any chance of moving on, they’d need to leave Georgia. It took a while for them to heal. Two years had passed before the Onoch’s found normalcy in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Dobria’s case became cold and was never brought to closure for the family. Sebastian and the boys had made a home of an estate near the first set of ridges near the Rocky Mountains. It was more of a compound really.”