Worlds Between

by Sherry D. Ficklin

  “I need to go,” he whispers, “but I want you to know that every day, every moment, I'll be thinking of you. I'll check in with Raphael to see how you are, and know that... that... I love you.”

  He's never said those words before, never even uttered them under his breath. Their power distills over me like a warm, humid mist, filling every crack and crevasse of my aching soul, healing my heart, converting my doubt to hope.

  He loves me!

  My whole life I've struggled to feel loveable—a symptom of my abuse—but Brecken's words, his unconditional love, erases those unwanted memories from my mind.

  I throw my arms around his neck once more and pull him close, inhaling the wonderful scent of him. Woods and maleness. I soak him in, figuring it will be the last time. He pulls back to look deeply into my eyes, then leans forward and presses his lips against mine. His hands spread on my back and the pressure of his fingers grip my robe. I tighten my arms around his neck, my hands tangling in the hair at his neck. Never have I clung to anyone this way, with such fervor, such sadness, knowing the magic will soon end.

  When he pulls away, the same dread I feel in my heart is on his face. “I have to go.”

  “I know.” My lips graze the soft skin of his neck, the scars from his punctures wounds healed. “You'll wait for me? You won't go off and fall for some other guardian?”

  “You need to ask?”

  I brush my fingers over his lips, memorizing his face—the crinkles around his eyes, every freckle, every nuance in his expression. “I'll wait for you forever.”

  We gaze into each other’s eyes, neither of us wanting to let go or look away—our clasped hands, our aching hearts refusing to say good-bye. I yearn to stay in this bittersweet moment, but a knock sounds on the door and Raphael peeks in.

  “Time to go, Bretariel.”

  “Okay.” Brecken's lips brush over mine one more time. “And don't forget what I said, and if you're ever in my neighborhood... ”

  “I will.”

  He steps back, his arms still reaching for me, this heartache ripping us in two. “I'm not going to say goodbye.” His face twists into a grimace as though leaving me is physically painful. How long before we are together again? Will he finish his penance before me? I'm not ready to say goodbye!

  Raphael places his hand on Brecken's shoulder, and with a reluctant nod to me, they disappear in a shimmer of light.

  And just like that, I am alone.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  ~What Future Awaits~

  Alisa

  I stay in Raphael's office, knowing he'll be back. Now that Brecken is gone, I'm ready to go. There's nothing left for me in Idir Shaol. There's no one to say good-bye to—no one to miss.

  When Raphael returns, he doesn't seem surprised to see me still waiting, but instead of ushering me out or ordering me down to Hell—which is what I suspect will happen, because I did disobey—he comes in and closes the door. Nervously, I await his decision—because I did go back to Brecken when I wasn't supposed to, and I did talk Natty into disobeying as well. The wrong choices I've made are the ones that stick to the forefront in my mind.

  Raphael sits down on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. He seems much too calm for a moment like this. The moment of my sentencing.

  “I am going to tell you something I haven't said to anyone in a very long time.”

  I watch him, waiting, holding my breath... figuratively.

  He takes my hand and stares into my eyes with an intensity that quickly begins to alarm me. This is going to be bad. Really bad. This is it, and my nonexistent heart pounds in my chest. I can already feel the hot, sticky tar of Soul Prison sucking me down.

  “I'm giving you a choice,” he says, his stoic expression never changing.

  Wait? What? “A choice?”

  He turns slightly and exhales through his nose, staring out of the windows that cause the room to glow with glaring brightness.

  My heart races faster. I place my hand on his arm, leaning forward. “A choice?” I repeat.

  “I think you have earned it.”

  I stare into his eyes, not daring to hope, and yet, that is all I can do. “You mean?”

  “You have proven your worth,” he says.

  A surge of love washes over me like an ocean wave, pounding into my quaking soul. All the fear and reluctance for my future washes away in those few words.

  “You can choose to rest in Elysium with your grandmother and your friend, Natty... or, you can go back to Earth. To be a guardian again.”

  I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. “Are you serious?” This is too good to be true, and just as I am about to throw my arms around his neck, he stops me.

  “Not for Brecken, Alisa. For someone else. Someone just as deserving.”

  I pull back just enough to study his face, and the significance of his words. How can I go back, and not be with Brecken? For a moment I sit there, immobile, my mind racing to solve this dilemma, and oh, the exquisite pain that pierces my heart, like a dull dagger, ripping and tearing instead of leaving a clean cut. “But why?”

  Raphael cocks his head as though confused by my question. “Because he has certain requirements he must meet, Alisa. Without any interference.”

  “What does he have to do that I can't be a part of?” I'm torn in half. I'm ready to fall down on my knees and start begging. They can't do this to us. There has to be a rule or something.

  Just when I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, he says, “Brecken is required to have a normal human life. To have a family... with a wife and children.”

  I'm stricken. I can't talk or even think of a coherent thing to say. When I raise my eyes to meet his, I see he is sincere. This is no lie or prank. “You can't be serious,” I whisper, pleading. “Please tell me you're joking.”

  The look on his face says it all. As far as we're all concerned, his verdict is carved in stone. How can I bear this? How could I be a guardian to someone else, all the while knowing Brecken is getting older, getting married, and having children? It's too cruel. To both of us.

  “Does he know?” I ask, remembering Brecken's last words, that he'll wait for me—that we'll be together again.

  “Not yet,” Raphael answers. “But he will. I'll tell him soon, after he's had... time.”

  Gazing out the window, a million thoughts sift through my mind, ways to circumvent this. Could we run away? Escape? However, I know, deep down, that none of it is truly possible.

  “Would you deny him this happiness?” Raphael asks quietly. “The gift of a family?”

  I can't answer. I know what he wants me to say, but I cannot say it.

  Instead, I do what I do best.

  I run.

  Acknowledgements

  I want to give a huge thanks to my rockin’ awesome critique group. Without them, this book would be nothing like it is. I love you guys! Renae Mackley, Shannon & Brock Cheney, Richard Johnson and Angela Millsap.

  Also, many thanks to the amazing women at Clean Teen Publishing, who took a chance on me. They made this book sparkle, and gave me new hope for a writing career. To Marya Heiman for being so easy to work with on the cover. I was picky, and she bent over backward to give me what I wanted. To Courtney Nuckels, Rebecca Gober, and Dyan Brown for their patient advice and hard work. I love this publishing company!

  And last but not least, to my wonderful family, that put up with me patiently while I practiced my craft for the last five years. They’ve cooked, cleaned, run my errands, and picked up my slack. Bryan, Jacob, Seth, Heidi, Gabriel, and Wyatt. You guys are my life, wholly and completely.

  About the Author

  M.E. Cunningham (Also known as Melissa Cunningham) began writing five years ago when she decided, out of the blue, to enter a community writing contest and won first place. From that moment on she had a new love: Writing. Melissa is a member of the League of Utah Writers. Her past publication experience includes a recurring opinion column called Wri
ting Reality, for her local newspaper: The Leader

  Melissa’s first novel: Reluctant Guardian, was accepted for publication through Clean Teen Publishing in August 2013.

  When Melissa is not writing you can find her spending time with her husband of eighteen years and her five children. Melissa studied music in college and loves to read all things fiction. Melissa lives in Northern Utah with her family, her horses, cats, dogs and chickens.

  Aftershock

  An Aftermath Short Story

  Aftermath is available on all platforms 12/2/14

  By: Sandy Goldsworthy

  Images on the glass walls taunted him.

  “We found your wife’s soul in Emma Bennett,” his partner said the day before.

  Ben sat there for hours, long after the other agents left for the day. He didn’t need any witnesses when he reviewed the file of his soul mate, the wife he lost when he died in World War II at Pearl Harbor.

  Photographs of Elizabeth’s past surrounded him, hovering in holograms around the room. Wedding pictures and childhood images brought back memories of their last life together.

  When Ben reached the Afterworld and learned his wife had years left to live, he joined the Bureau of Investigation. Being an agent allowed him to travel to earth disguised as a human. He wanted to watch over Elizabeth and their son.

  By the time Ben’s training was completed and he was finally free to roam earth, months had passed. He never saw his wife again. Ben sat in this same room at the agency’s headquarters when Elizabeth didn’t transition as expected, and no one could locate her whereabouts.

  “There are millions of souls, Ben,” his commanding officer said back then.

  He agreed there were millions of souls, but only one that mattered to him. Searching for Elizabeth for decades, isolating himself at times, he always wondered what happened to her. In those years, the bureau became his family, and he threw himself into his work.

  Memories filled his mind as his life with Elizabeth flashed before him in a slideshow on the walls. Suddenly, it was fall, 1931.

  Elizabeth Emmaline Hudson was sixteen years old and the most beautiful girl Benjamin had ever seen. She had shiny, brown hair and bright, blue eyes that smiled when she spoke, but when she looked at him, they sparkled.

  It was a crisp, Saturday afternoon. At sixteen, Benjamin was too old for chores, he thought. But when his father ordered him to take the truck into Riverside to pick up groceries for his mother, he obeyed. He had plans to go into town with some buddies and catch a movie, but his father told him that would have to wait.

  Benjamin climbed into the family’s pickup truck and turned the ignition, pumping the clutch, and hoping for an easy start. The old truck had its quirks, but it was all they could afford. It chugged to life, and he began his ten-minute drive to the city.

  He almost stopped at Walt Crandon’s on the way, but thought better should his father find out. Any deviation from his father’s direct instruction would be met with harsh words, not to mention more wood chopping before winter set in.

  Benjamin rarely went into Riverside. Most of his friends went into Westport, a larger city with a movie theater, which was the same distance from his house on the lake. He parked the truck in front of the store with the dark green sign that read “Hudson Grocery.” Through the front window with the yellow and white letters spelling “General Store, Est. 1894,” he could see Walt’s mother speaking with an older, heavyset man. He figured it was Mr. Hudson. Benjamin watched them for a second or two. Mrs. Crandon pointed out vegetables, which the man placed in a crate. Benjamin’s mother raved over the fresh produce carried at the store. It appeared that Walt’s mother preferred their selection, too.

  Benjamin got out of the truck and checked his reflection in the window before walking inside. He heard that Elizabeth helped her father in the store on weekends. In case he would see her, he smoothed his dark brown hair back.

  The store was bigger than he remembered, with several baskets of apples and squash in front. Mrs. Crandon was too busy ordering Mr. Hudson around for either of them to notice that he walked in, or hear the bell that rang when he shut the door. The floorboards creaked as he walked slowly past the russet potatoes to the counter. He stood patiently waiting his turn.

  As Benjamin began daydreaming of all the things he could be doing, he heard a voice behind him. It was soft and delicate. “May I help you?” she asked. Startled, he spun around.

  There she was. Elizabeth stood behind the wooden counter with jars of rock candy in three colors. She looked like an angel sent from heaven. It was months since he first saw her, at a party that summer. Elizabeth looked directly at him. Shoulders back, standing tall, she confidently waited for his reply.

  Suddenly, Benjamin was uncomfortable.

  “Ahh…” He hesitated. For a second, he forgot why he was there. “Umm… yes. Yes, I’m here to pick up a grocery order. My mother called it in.” Benjamin stuttered over his words, staring at her. When their eyes met, he knew she was the one for him. His heart began to race, and he hoped she wouldn’t notice.

  Benjamin completely forgot about his friends and the plans they made to see Frankenstein. Everyone from his school was going, but he no longer cared. He was standing in front of the prettiest girl in Westport County, and she was talking to him.

  “Sure… for Holmes, right?” she asked.

  That was the first time his heart stopped.

  “Yes.” He paused. “I didn’t realize you knew my name.” All the confidence he thought he lost was back. She remembered him.

  “Oh, yes. We met at the island this past summer.” Elizabeth blushed as she spoke. “I’m sorry I jumped in your lap during that ghost story.”

  “Ah…” He grinned, and her eyes sparkled in return. “I didn’t mind.”

  Elizabeth’s face reddened, and she glanced down at the counter. “I shouldn’t have done that. My father would be very upset with me.” Elizabeth looked up at Benjamin again. “It wasn’t very ladylike.”

  “You were very much a lady evening, Miss Hudson. Very proper, actually.”

  “Thank you. You can call me Elizabeth.” She hesitated a moment. “I better get your mother’s order.” She turned toward the back room where she came from.

  “Did you need help?” Benjamin suddenly remembered his manners. “I mean, I can carry it for you.”

  Stopping, she faced him. “That would be nice.” She smiled. “There are two boxes. I had them in a wagon for you.”

  Benjamin followed her to the red Radio Flyer that held his mother’s grocery order. He lifted a box with ease, proud to show his strength in front of her. Elizabeth was waiting for him when he returned from the truck. He signed the receipt to charge to his mother’s account and picked up the last box. Hesitating, he stood there a moment. Elizabeth eyed him cautiously.

  “Do you like going to the movies?” he mumbled, resting the groceries on the counter.

  “Yes.”

  Benjamin fidgeted a second or two before gaining the confidence to continue. “Would you like to join me tonight? Frankenstein is playing in Westport.”

  Elizabeth hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. Benjamin regretted asking. She glanced toward her father, still chatting with Mrs. Crandon on the other side of the store. “Actually, my father would need to approve that… and um…” She paused for a moment. “I’m not sure he would agree.” She looked down, her long lashes moving in slow motion when they opened and closed.

  “I see.” A sense of relief struck him. She didn’t say no. Benjamin looked around, and then back at her. “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed the box of groceries and carried it to the truck. When he returned, Mrs. Crandon was gone and Mr. Hudson was beside Elizabeth at the counter.

  “I wanted to introduce myself,” Benjamin began. His father always told him to look people in the eye while he spoke, but his nerves got in the way. Instead, Benjamin looked at the man’s apron tied at the waist, and his thin, black tie tucked in.

&
nbsp; “Ah, yes. You’re the Holmes boy.”

  “Yes, I am.” Benjamin extended his hand in proper introduction. “I’m Benjamin.”

  “I ’member when you were just a tyke,” Mr. Hudson said. He was as jovial as he was round. They shook hands.

  “Well, sir… I wanted your permission to take Elizabeth to the movies tonight. Frankenstein is playing in Westport.”

  Mr. Hudson’s smile turned flat. He looked at Elizabeth a long moment before staring at Benjamin again. “Well…” the man began. The silence was awkward as Elizabeth begged her father with her eyes. Finally, he spoke. “Your mother’s a good woman… and a good customer.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve known her for years.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Your father’s a veteran, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, sir. Navy Captain when he retired.”

  “That what you planning to do, son?” Elizabeth’s father rubbed his cheek, speckled with a five o’clock shadow.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You in school?”

  “Yes, I graduate this year, sir.”

  The man nodded, lost in thought. He scratched his bald head, and a bead of perspiration formed at his temple.

  “Please, Papa,” Elizabeth interjected.

  “I promise to take good care of her, sir,” Benjamin added.

  Mr. Hudson was silent. After an uncomfortable pause, he agreed to let Benjamin take Elizabeth on a date, but not until he gave a significant lecture on the proper respect of a young lady.

  Benjamin promptly arrived at six o’clock as instructed. Elizabeth’s father greeted him at the door before he rang the bell to their home above the store. Mr. Hudson escorted him up the staircase, where Elizabeth’s mother waited. She shook Benjamin’s hand, led him to a small parlor overlooking the street, and gestured for him to sit while he waited for Elizabeth. He chose the davenport.