by JM HART
Sophia bolted out of the store to help the woman and her baby. Father McDonald yelled at her to stop, but it was too late. A shot was fired and the camping store window cracked, but held. Her focus was on the woman; Sophia grabbed her by the arm and guided her into the safety of the store, pushing her towards a rack of thermal jackets. Another shot was fired; the air suddenly was filled with tiny crystals. It was like being in a snow globe. Time moved elegantly slowly. The glass pierced Sophia’s face and hands. She shut her eyes tight and screamed in pain. Father McDonald pulled her towards him. They took shelter together with the woman and baby amongst the thermal jackets.
A car exploded and the building’s foundations shook. Sophia slowly opened her eyes; she could see. The panic eased. She stole a glimpse between the jackets and saw a ball of flames, black smoke billowing into the sky. The gunman was jumped on by two men from behind. They crash-tackled him to the ground, pinning him beneath them. They jumped to their feet and started kicking him. Other people joined in. The hunter had become the prey. Sophia had to turn away. Picking at the pieces of glass in her hands, she winced. Her face hurt from the tiny shards of glass embedded in her cheeks. She looked at the lady, dusted the glass off her shoulders away from the baby, and did her best to smile. “Your baby will be okay.”
Father McDonald quickly picked what glass he could off Sophia’s cheek and said, “Are you okay? Don’t do things like that, you’ll give me a heart attack. Come on, we have to go.”
He looked at the store attendant. “Please help this woman and her child. I am sorry we cannot stay. We have to go. God will be with you. Bless you.” Father McDonald wanted to help but he knew the only way to truly help was to follow God’s lead and take care of Sophia. “Where is the delivery entrance?”
The young shop attendant pointed to the back of the store.
Father McDonald struggled to pick up the heavy backpack. Sophia saw his thin legs straining. She pretended not to notice as he mustered as much strength as he could and heaved the bag up and fumbled to fasten the waist support straps. He pulled them tight, which took some pressure off his shoulders. Sophia took charge of her backpack and sat it on the bench. She sat down to insert her arms into it and stood up feeling weak. She was more worried for Father McDonald than herself. She wasted no more time and wove between the shelved merchandise to the delivery entrance and headed into the woods.
As soon as there was enough distance between them and any town, Father McDonald sat Sophia down on her backpack while he fished through his bag for a first- aid kit. He had trouble getting the clasp to open on the little red plastic box. Sophia helped him and handed him the tweezers. He started to gently pull out embedded shards of glass. Her face cleaned, he gently laid tiny strips of tape over the wounds. Without a word, they headed deeper into the forest heading south towards England.
*
It had taken them two days to get here and now the guiding sun was dipping over the horizon. With the load off his back, he said, “A few fishing lessons for you, a rabbit trap here and there and we should manage quite nicely for a few weeks. Now — wait here. Don’t go anywhere but if something happens to me — run.”
Sophia waited behind the trees watching him struggling painfully up the small hill to the cabin. He thinks I don’t see him take his pills. Father McDonald stopped to rub his aching hip, pulled out his worn Bible, and continued. There was no one in the cabin, she knew that, but she knew he needed to be sure. Sophia wished she could take away his pain. He placed his hand on his knee to push on up the hill. He wasn’t prepared for anyone who meant them harm; there wouldn’t really be anything he could do. He struggled forward, believing in God, believing in his guidance and protection. He just needed time to rest; they both needed time to rest and this small log cabin looked like the perfect place. He stopped again and pulled his pills from his pocket, catching his breath, taking a tablet to calm his heart. At the top he stopped and looked out beyond. His shoulders went back and he stood straight. His gaze swept the area admiringly. Bless you, God, thank you for looking after him, she thought.
Sophia waited behind the tree as Father McDonald instructed. The air was dense. An acute feeling of being watched crept over Sophia, a new and scary sensation.
Sophia remembered when she first started to control her energy and her ability to leave her body and astral travel. She would fight to overcome her desire to leave this realm and go to the next. At that time, Sister Clare spied obsessively on her and Father McDonald. This is what it felt like now, like someone was spying on her. She missed Mother Catherine, who had protected and loved her, and wished she was back at the church, lying on the pews, gazing at the stained-glass windows.
She scanned the area, but could see nothing, so she scanned again — this time with her sixth sense and she could now feel a calm rhythmic heartbeat. Whoever it was wasn’t scared of her. The energy felt gentle. A wave of fragrance reminded her of the scent of fresh lilies and the way some flower petals can float on a breeze. It had to be an animal and it had to be behind her. With a ballerina’s grace she pivoted slowly, careful not to make any noise. Over her right shoulder, standing in the distance and hiding in the shadows, was a white deer. It didn’t move — it just kept watching. Sophia closed her eyes with the image of the deer projected onto the back of her eyelids and stepped out of her body. Her body dropped quickly to the ground. She felt nothing. Sophia looked at Father McDonald and saw he was still laboring towards the cabin.
At ease in her spiritual body, Sophia moved silently amongst the trees. The deer’s ears perked up and its nose thrust forward, smelling the air, sensing Sophia’s youthful spirit. Sophia moved closer and stretched out her ethereal hand to the deer. It bowed. Sophia’s hand slowly moved down its neck, over its muscular shoulder, and along its silky back. Sophia’s bewilderment melted as their souls united. Sophia was in awe of the dainty ladylike energy it possessed, and the warmth of its body. She could feel the tenderness of the deer’s thoughts. It was … Sophia struggled for the right word … dazzled; yes, it was dazzled at how easily Sophia had shed her skin. But Sophia was even more bewildered than the deer. She heard its thoughts, like a parent, in her heart: You must be careful. Your youth fools you. You are truly old, and must take greater care of your physical body, or someone or something might take it.
Sophia, finding her inner voice, said, There is nobody around. No evil dark cloud and no lost souls. Sophia felt embarrassed. But you are right. Thank you for your concern.
Come, I’ll walk back with you to your body.
Together they crossed the path of fallen leaves. Sophia hugged the deer, then infused herself back into her sleeping body. She felt the heaviness of the physical world, the phenomenal limiting pressure of the five senses. She wiggled her toes and fingers before opening her eyes. The deer was licking her face with its rough tongue. Sophia wiped the sticky saliva off her face and rose to hug the deer with all her physical strength. She could no longer hear its thoughts, but still felt the essence of its celestial being.
Father McDonald was calling out: “Sophia, Sophia!” Suddenly a bright flash radiated from her locket, which had captured the sun’s rays and, laser-like, shone in his direction, blinding him. He shielded his eyes as the beautiful deer stepped out from behind the sphere of light. Standing on the porch, he waved again, giving her the all-clear.
Sophia threaded her arms through the harness of her heavy backpack, and stood up. A squirrel darted down the near-by tree trunk, startling her as it leapt into her path. She sensed the squirrel’s laughter as she stumbled. The white deer didn’t flinch. An eagle screamed overhead and they all glanced up. The eagle circled the air above the cabin and rose up and over the mountains. Father McDonald began to speak into the sky.
Sophia couldn’t hear the words, but watched as his lips moved over the familiar passage. “He that dwells in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. He shall cover you with his feathers, and under his wings shal
l you trust: his truth shall be your shield and buckler.” Sophia remembered this was from Psalm 91.
Sophia walked up the hill to stand beside Father McDonald on the porch and together they watched the eagle until it was out of sight. I think we could call this place home for a while, she thought. The white deer circled the cabin then walked away to the sounds of the flowing river.
“Come on. Let’s get this place cleaned up,” Father McDonald said, resting his arm on her shoulders.
Sophia followed him into the cabin. It was well kept and rather modern on the inside. Obviously someone’s furnished holiday cabin. In a glance off to the left she could see a wood-burning stove in the kitchen, a small bench and hanging pots, a plastic white sink with a pump action lever and, against the wall, a kitchen table for two. It was a tiny cabin. On the right side was the living room where there was a sofa covered in dusty sheets facing an open fireplace. Off to one side of the lounge room, a narrow wooden staircase went straight up to a lofty bedroom. Under the stairs, facing the lounge room was a bathroom.
“I’m going to check under the cabin for a generator,” Father McDonald said. “With this much stuff there has to be one.” Father McDonald walked around the outside of the building and quickly returned, puffing, exhausted.
“That was quick. Any luck?”
“No.” He walked slowly into the kitchen surveying the tiny space and finding a trapdoor under the table. Together they dragged the table away from the wall and he pulled on the metal latch. It resisted and he stopped and held his back. “I’m not as strong as I used to be.” Nerve pain fired from the base of his spine to the top of his neck. “I’ll be right in a minute or two.”
Frightened, Sophia guided him to a chair and said. “Maybe you should rest here.” Over the past week his body had visibly aged. Sophia pulled on the latch, flipping the door up, and searched the kitchen drawers, finding a working torch.
Father McDonald rose and took it from her. Slowly he climbed down the narrow stairs. He ducked, just missing banging his head against the wooden frame. “You go find yourself a bed. I’ll be right,” he said, as he descended.
Sophia knew there would be no arguing, and ran up the steps to the loft. There was a double bed and two singles. She picked the single that lay under the skylight and she lay down to watch the sky above for a while. Reluctantly she rose, opening the window for some fresh air.
*
They cleaned the dust off the furniture and aired the cabin, unpacked only what they needed in case they had to move quickly. They settled down the best they could. Sophia threw the sleeping bags on the beds and made up Father McDonald’s to be as comfortable as possible.
The night came round quickly while they were busy cleaning and collecting wood. The generator now provided a comforting hum and, more importantly, lights. A can of hot chicken soup tasted and smelt smokey from the wood stove. Sophia cleaned their bowls and Father McDonald went and sat on the porch to read from his Bible. The outside world faded away as his warm, harmonious voice floated in through the open door. Sophia listened while boiling pots of water and pouring them into the bath. The vapors of steam rising from the surface of the water looked inviting, but she resisted the urge to climb in. “Father, come see.”
Wearily he stood in the doorway and said, “You’re a gem. Thank you for the bath, Sophia. It’s just what I need. God bless you.”
Sophia waited until Father McDonald climbed the stairs for bed. “Feeling better?” she asked.
“Totally rejuvenated.”
Sophia quickly had a cold shallow bath, just enough water to wash the dirt out of her hair. Shivering, she climbed out and dried herself with the new half-size microfiber towel the storekeeper had packed. Sophia put on her second-hand dark-blue and yellow tracksuit. It looked like new and she remembered why she had packed it in the first place and started to cry. She sat on the edge of the bath and waited till her body stopped heaving. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and towel-dried her long hair as best she could. She felt better for the tears and better for her bath, even if it was freezing cold.
Sophia lay down on her bed and cocooned herself in the soft familiar textures of her sleeping bag. The forest was alive with sound and the cabin was dark. Stars shone through the skylight window between a few fallen leaves. There were streams of dazzling stars and four stars glowed brighter than the rest.
“You awake? Can you see the stars?” she asked Father McDonald.
“Yes.”
“Do you know the names of the four stars shaped in a cross?”
“I can’t see those through my window.”
“Come see.”
He groaned quietly as he unfolded his body and shuffled over to her bed. She made room for him to lie beside her.
“See,” she said pointing into the sky.
“Marvelous, it’s beautiful — Blessed are you, Lord. That’s the Grand Cross, Sophia, it’s very rare. There’s Mars, Pluto, Jupiter and Uranus. They should be at ninety degrees from each other, I think. Throughout history, significant events like revolutions, the start and end of wars have occurred at such times. Sadly, these planets in this formation have become a symbol of pain and suffering. A great strain has fallen upon humanity, there’s no denying it. It doesn’t matter what happened in the past, what matters is the future. It may be a sign of great darkness, but it can also mean there is potential for even greater light. We are going to need a lot of mercy and compassion in the coming month for ourselves, and the world so it seems. The stars hold many secrets, Sophia. In the book of Matthew, astrologers from the east followed a star to Bethlehem, for the birth of Jesus.”
Without taking his eyes off the stars he recited, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not lack. He makes me to lie down in green pastures: he leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul: he leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies: you anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen.”
“Amen.” Sophia didn’t want to dwell on the significance of the Grand Cross. She heard and understood what Father McDonald had said, but right now she just wanted to gaze at the stars and imagine what it would be like to sail amongst them. “How do you know so much about the stars?” she said.
“I was in the navy, and many nights I prayed to God under a blanket of stars. The early seamen navigated only by the stars, believing in myths and legends. You can always find your way home if you know how to read them. Now get some sleep. God willing, tomorrow I will show you how to fish.”
“I would love kippers!”
“I don’t think it will be kippers.”
He must have thought she was fast asleep and, careful not to wake her, he unceremoniously slid off the bed with a thud. She clenched her teeth imagining the pain rippling through his hip. He picked up his torch and headed down the stairs. He took some painkillers out of the side pocket of his backpack, and went outside. Under the light of the moon, Sophia watched as he switched on his torch and hung it from the wooden beam above. As the shadows watched, Father McDonald nestled the Bible in his two hands and read out loud into the night: “You shall not be afraid of the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flies by day: Nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness; nor of the destruction that wastes at noonday. A thousand shall fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; but it shall not come near you.”
He leant against a post and rested his eyes. The book fell between his knees as he drifted off to sleep. Night after night he read on the porch until the morning chased away the shadows and the world gave birth to a new day.
9
Doorways to a parallel dimension: Shaun and Kevin. Australia.
A smoky blood-red sky covered t
he city. The air was thick with vermin. They were in his house, they flew around his bed and blocked out the light from his soul. Soaked with sweat, Shaun tossed and turned; flames licked at his bare skin, the heat blinding his vision as he dreamed of burning alive. Under his eyelids his eyes darted back and forth.
“RACHEL!” he screamed as loud as he could, but only a whisper escaped his lips. Out of breath, he woke, panicking, gripping the bed, his heart pounding against his ribs and tears trailing down his cheeks. He wiped his face with the filthy sheet. The images had already dissolved, the dream forgotten, but the fear remained. Shaun reached for the comfort of his mobile phone, accidentally knocking it to the floor. He shuffled into the bathroom, coughing a little. His father lay passed out on the lounge room floor, an empty bottle of whiskey still clasped in his hand. Shaun quietly stepped over his body and looked down in disgust. The desire to stomp his heel into his father’s face and pay him back for the beatings and pain his mother had endured was compelling, but the thought of his mother stopped him. His foot landed on the carpet, nearly clipping the tip of his dad’s nose. He walked sluggishly into the kitchen.
Shaun jerked opened the refrigerator. The light came on and his hand flew up to protect his eyes from the sudden glare. The milk was sour, the bread moldy, and the Vegemite empty. He slammed the door shut. Miserable, he went upstairs and climbed through the attic to the roof. In his boxers, he lay stretched in the early morning sun and tried to remember what it felt like to lie beside her and smell her perfumed hair.
*
“What? What the hell do you want with me, boy?”
Shaun woke disoriented and nearly rolled into the gutter and over the edge of the roof hearing his dad’s voice. Gingerly, he moved to look over the edge. There was a fireman at the door. Shaun leant a little further and slipped on a loose tile, catching himself before he went over the edge. The dude looked up, and Shaun ducked out of sight. Shit! How could they know? he thought. He strained to hear their words.
