by JM HART
God knows why she was so taken by his wild, bushy curls; the teeth of a comb would drop off in fear of being pulled through his mane. She had never known anyone like him before. He controlled his thoughts. Unlike the kids at school, his thoughts had an angelic afterglow of light.
She really hadn’t paid much attention at school. Didn’t really try too hard; she just wanted the annoying kids to stop shouting and the teachers to stop thinking bad ugly thoughts about them. They gave her a heavy heart and her head was bombarded with their complaining voices. Sophia had believed that she too was bad, because like attracts like, until she realized that she was just like a radio, a receiver, and needed to learn to change the channel or turn down the volume. The past few weeks, her reflections on the past showed her how she had been self-absorbed, always thinking about what she had wanted, and what she didn’t have. She never tried to understand the pain of others; she just didn’t want to feel pain. She didn’t know how to help anyone. She hadn’t been able to say anything because people already thought she was weird, living with the nuns. Luckily she had her two friends and they didn’t believe she was strange. She had only taken up ballet to please Mother Catherine and now, Gemma, Lisa and Mother Catherine were all gone. How easy it would be to lie down and die; so much harder to truly live. She decided it was right to want to live and she would continue to learn to control the influx of other people’s thoughts and help whoever God sent to her, instead of running. First, she must help change whatever has been done to create such evil entities on Earth and do it before there is nobody left and she never hears another’s thought again. But she didn’t know how to help.
Yesterday, meditating, she had seen pictures in her mind of people as colored silhouettes, their physical bodies surrounded by red, then expanding away from the body and changing to orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet, then lastly, white, just like a rainbow. Golden light was at the center of their being and each golden spark was thousands of tiny atoms. Within the atoms was deeper light, sparks of positive and negative energy: at the heart was the neutron that balanced the two forces, the residence of the soul, and this was where the battle took place inside each infected soul. The positive energy was sparks of white light, and the negative energy was sparks of metallic grey laced with black. The black was multiplying, consuming the white light. In the vision in her mind, each silhouette had been surrounded by darkness, but still the core sparkled, reflecting all the differently colored particles of light. Every atom vibrated, busy with the light. A backdrop of darkness surrounded the body, but it couldn’t penetrate the protective rainbow shell. Slowly, a dark spot would grow and an atom was swallowed by the negative force, metastasizing like a cancer spreading throughout the cells, spreading throughout the body, destroying the light. The colors melted away, the shell became jagged until the body was unrecognizable, no distinction of form, just one with the darkness that had surrounded him.
Sophia had wanted to break away from the meditation, to wake up and stare into the blue sky, but then more bodies and more souls appeared, flickering like candles being snuffed out one by one. Sophia had pulled back from the visions, felt the ground beneath her and opened her eyes, leaving the images to disappear into the back of her mind. She remembered the feeling of the tiny fish nibbling at her toes while she recalled the images that haunted her inner world.
Sophia knew time was running out and people were being used like puppets, being fed negative thoughts and feelings, until they would kill one another — and if they didn’t, they would end up falling on their own sword. Her dreams showed her the negative energy hiding inside flesh disguised as a virus, but she pushed away the images and thought of a daisy, a big bright beaming daisy, a chain of giant daisies, and her sisters joyfully dancing in a garden where flowers surrounded them and trees bore succulent fruit. A protective cloak of light tightened around Sophia and her medallion was illuminated under her shirt. She shifted a little, being released from the images, and she hugged her knees. Father McDonald wrapped his arm around her shoulders in comfort. Sophia was grateful for the gift of sight and accepted her destiny.
The deer stood on the other side of the river. Father McDonald saw the deer watching and bow her head to Sophia. “Come, let’s get some of that rabbit stew,” she said.
They walked, helping each other, back up to the cabin, accompanied by the smell of pine and fresh mulch. Each step scrunched the dry leaves and amplified the silence of the woods. Father McDonald longed to give her ease from her visions, but he could not; it was for her to shoulder alone. It weighed heavily upon him that a child had to carry such painful burdens, but she must fulfil her purpose if she was to be free. They passed the pine tree where the rabbit furs hung. “Tomorrow I think we can make you that pair of moccasins,” Father McDonald said as they stepped up together onto the porch.
*
An eagle circled high above the cabin while the afternoon birds chirped, jumping along the veranda collecting breadcrumbs. The clanging of the dishes was homely. Sophia stepped out of the cabin drying her hands on a tea towel. Father McDonald pulled out his Bible and randomly opened it.
“Read out loud, Father, please.” Sophia hung the tea towel on the rail to dry and stood gazing into the valley.
Father McDonald smiled at her and cleared his throat before he began. “He that dwells in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and from the deadly pestilence. He shall cover you with his feathers, and under his wings shalt you trust: his truth shall be your shield and buckler. You shall not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flies by day: Nor for the pestilence that walks in darkness; nor for 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. Only with your eyes shall you behold and see the reward of the wicked. Because you have made the Lord, who is my refuge, even the most High, your habitation; There shall no evil befall you, neither shall any plague come near your dwelling. For he shall give his angels charge over you, to keep you in all thy ways. They shall bear you up in their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone. You shall tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the serpent shall you trample under feet. Because he has set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he has known my name. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation. Amen.” Father McDonald stopped reading and looked into Sophia’s blue eyes and smiled.
“Amen,” she said. “Casey’s on the other side of those hills.”
“I think they could be the Cheviot Hills,” said Father McDonald, “which are on the border between Scotland and England. If that’s the case, the ocean is to our south-east. When we leave here, we might head in that direction. What do you think?”
“I’m not sure, Father,” Sophia said. She sat on the deck and folded her legs lotus-style, preparing for meditation. “It’s hard not to want to stay here.”
She closed her eyes, listening to Father McDonald’s voice reading words of strength and protection, and called out to Casey. All afternoon she felt him sleeping, popping in and out of her aura; like a cat he brushed past her but recoiled before he actually latched onto her energy. He was gentle as a petal falling on her face. Ripples of love and compassion fanned out from his aura into hers before he jerked back into his own space and time. Again she called out to him. The sound of Father McDonald’s voice was fading as she travelled towards Casey, sensing his energy. Excited, she saw him sitting in a darkened lounge room, lightly furnished. The windows had been boarded up, otherwise the sun would have beautifully filled the room.
The overhead lights were on and Casey was sitting at a computer studying the contents on the screen. Whit
e noise burst out of the speakers as she came closer. He turned and examined the room. She hadn’t been in this room before. It looked cozy with an open fireplace and a sofa you might lose yourself in, she thought.
He kept turning from left to right; she sensed the hairs rising on the back of his neck. “Soph— Sophia, is that you? I can’t see you.”
Sophia was manifesting as a shimmer in front of the boarded-up window. Millions of scintillating particles of light started to band together and a ghost of a person materialized. It was Sophia. He smiled. “You look radiant, but faint. Your projections are getting weaker,” he said, concerned. “Are you okay?”
She could hear his voice in her mind echoing in space. “I’m better than ever,” she said. “I’m trying to project without leaving my body, so it’s not left vulnerable for a hostile takeover, so to speak, ha ha ha.”
“You look more like a hologram,” he said.
“You might want to shut down the computer, before the hard drive fries. Where’re Amy and Terry?”
“They’re boarding the windows in the rooms upstairs.”
“How are you guys holding up?”
“Good, considering. Thankfully, we don’t have the virus which is the major plus. Are you still up north?”
“Yes. I think we’re just a few days away. But I don’t believe that it will be easy.”
“We can travel to the next town,” Casey said. “That’s it, though. There are roadblocks on the main road heading north. South, we managed to get a few miles inland before the next roadblock. We’ve been able go east to the coast and we traveled as far as the Holy Island. Somewhere near a place called Berwick-upon-Tweed the military had a blockade and it was lucky we were in the Jeep; we heard gunfire and quickly headed into the scrub and turned back.”
“We have to go to Israel,” Sophia said. Her energy pulsed with light.
“What, where?”
“Israel. Jerusalem, I think.”
“We can’t get into Scotland. You can’t get into England. How on earth do you think we can get to the Middle East. And it’s not on my bucket list.” Casey knew there was a greater purpose in what was going on between them. He wanted to imagine that they were just a guy and a girl having a long-distance relationship.
“Why Israel?” he asked.
“I don’t know yet. I'm not sure if it is Israel. I hear an angry man say dovesti zhenshchinu and see the Middle East. I keep dreaming of a bracelet and a green gate with a star on it. Show me something,” Sophia said.
“Like what?”
“Turning the lights off and on, you choose.”
“Okay, well, flickering the lights, we can’t do. Terry has boarded up the windows and he thinks there is a problem with the generator every time I practice.”
The computer screen started to flicker with white noise. The radio started hissing and a lonely voice came to life broadcasting the latest counting of the dead. They both stared at the radio, and Casey quickly turned it off as if feeling sorry for having a little fun when there were so many people dying.
“Don’t stop,” Sophia said. “What else? Pick something up.” She could see his eyebrows knot together as he focused on the cushion on the lounge. It moved a little, his body trembled; the cushion started wobbling and fell off the lounge.
“Now pick it up,” Sophia encouraged. “Go on, Casey, lift it up, You can do so much more than that. But the key is, you need to believe you can; you can control it, rather than it controlling you. You need to clear your mind of any doubts. It’s when you think you can’t that you won’t. Believe you can and you will.”
Casey looked up, rubbed his eyes, then brushed his wet palms on his knees, took in a deep breath, and slowly breathed out, channeling energy towards the pillow. Sophia watched the phenomena of energy swirling through the air like liquid towards the cushion, pushing it down. “Lift it, you’re squashing it. Flip it like a pancake. Close your eyes and imagine the pillow rising,” she said.
Casey sliced into the air with his hand, as if scooping, and the pillow suddenly went straight up and hit the ceiling. It rebounded into the side table knocking the lamp off. The twirling liquid zapped into nothingness.
He rubbed his forehead and pushed back his long curls, revealing his handsome face. “I know … follow me,” he said, and opened the door to the kitchen.
She watched him stare hard towards the barn. An engine roared into life and a Jeep started backing out on its own. Casey was vibrating, buckling under the power of the energy, his hands outstretched as if holding a giant ball and pulling it towards himself. It was too much; he had to stop. He dropped his arms cutting the connection. The Jeep ceased and the kitchen door slammed closed.
“You okay?” Sophia asked, floating closer to him.
From upstairs they could hear movement, tools clanged and banged hard on the upper floor. “Casey, are you okay down there?” Amy called over the railing.
“All good,” he called back.
“You’re flickering,” Casey said to Sophia. “Don’t go.”
“Are you really okay?” she asked.
“Yes, just tired,” he said, moving back into the lounge room. He bent down, picked up the lamp and placed it back on the wooden table. He fluffed the cushion and laid it on the lounge. “What about you?” he said avoiding eye contact.
“I have to go. I am still connected to my physical body. I’m using the body’s energy and it is tiring. I’ve been eating so much, but this uses up tremendous amounts of energy. I wanted to tell you about the gunman in the last town we got supplies from, and the deer in the forest. Next time.”
“What gunman? Maybe I can give you a boost?” Casey said scratching his head.
“No, not today. You’re exhausted and you need to get better control of the energy. Even though you’re tired you’re liable to blow me into infinity and I’ll never find my way back,” she said and smiled.
He blurted out, “How are we going to get to Israel?”
It was too late to answer him. She could feel the link stretching. Saw in his eyes the light around her flickering. She slowly disappeared. She started to travel; it felt like she was hanging onto the end of a stretched elastic band that recoiled sharply back into her body. She landed hard. Her aura contracted, the vibration was painful. Her legs had cramped with pins and needles. Her neck had stiffened as if it was locked in place. Father McDonald was still reading and she concentrated on the sound of his voice as she settled back into her body, returning all on her own. She was pleased how far she had come in such a short time. At the realization she started to cry. Tears trailed down her cheeks: it was still really emotionally exhausting.
*
Father McDonald sat on the bench behind Sophia, watching her body sway slightly. A bird sat on the edge of the plate in Sophia’s lap picking off crumbs. More and more birds came and dared to sit close on the rail of the veranda. Some collected in nearby trees, chirping like a group of theater-goers, chatting and getting comfortable before the show started. He thought about Mother Catherine and how she would find his reference amusing. He missed her, her fussing and good intent. He leant back against the wall of the cabin and continued praying for the world’s redemption and Sophia’s protection as she settled in to her body. He saw her tears and his heart cried with her. He kept reading until her hand went up and wiped her face. She looked at him and her eyes didn’t look troubled, they sparkled.
“You okay?” He closed his book and held his dear friend in the palm of his hand. He leant forward and pushed off the bench.
“Starved,” she said. Carefully, Sophia lifted one leg at a time, grimacing from the pins and needles. The bird stealing the crumbs off her plate flew away.
“Stay there, I’ll get you a cup of tea and a sandwich.” He felt just as stiff as Sophia, having not moved the whole two hours she had been gone, so it took him a little longer to get moving again. They sat on the porch eating their sandwiches and drinking the hot tea until the sun disappeared over the h
orizon.
*
“Where are you, Casey?” Amy called from upstairs. “You’ve been catnapping all day. Come up here and help.”
He had sunk into the couch and refused to think of getting up.
“Casey!”
He grabbed the nearest pillow and pushed it against his ear to block out the sound. He was so tired today; he was feeling unmotivated and a little embarrassed. He wondered if Sophia knew he had been showing off. How stupid he’d been to move the Jeep. He seemed like the guys at the gym who tried to impress girls; he never thought himself to be like that. He had preferred track and cycling, being out in the sun. When the virus has gone and everything is normal I might become a cyclist like Lance Armstrong, without the drugs. He wondered if he too would be cheating, just by being himself: if people knew he could generate energy and channel it where and when he liked, maybe they’d think he might be using it to make the bicycle go faster. But he wouldn’t cheat, because if they caught him they could claim unfair advantage. But if it came out, he thought, that would be the least of his worries. He would be ashamed and shipped off to some CIA laboratory to be studied. Casey drifted back to sleep to dream he was racing the last mile of the Tour de France when he was suddenly whacked in the face by the pillow. In his mind he fell off his bike just before the finish line and everyone passed him. He was left bleeding on the side of the road watching, nursing his pride.
“Up,” Amy said. “Now, unless you’re sick — get up! You can’t lie around daydreaming all the time. It’s difficult for everyone. You can’t get out and do things you would like to do, I get it. But you can’t lie around doing nothing. Up.”
