Worlds Between

by Sherry D. Ficklin

  “What a tall boy you’ve become. So nice to see you,” Mrs. Hudson said. She sat across from him, folding the handkerchief she held in her hands.

  “Nice to see you, too, Mrs. Hudson,” he answered. “My mother says hello.”

  “Oh, please tell her the same. I hope she enjoyed the apples she ordered.”

  “Yes, ma’am. She did. She’s baking pies for tomorrow’s festival.”

  “That’s lovely. Your mother makes the best pies.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell her. She will be delighted to hear that.”

  “Now, son,” Mr. Hudson interrupted. He sat in the chair beside Benjamin and leaned closer. “Do you remember my instructions?”

  “Yes, sir. I do.” Despite the confidence in his voice, Benjamin felt uncomfortable.

  “You treat her like a lady.” He glanced at his wife, who looked down at her hands. “I expect you to keep your distance. Arm’s length. At all times.”

  Mrs. Hudson’s shoulders slouched as her husband’s voice increased. Benjamin saw the embarrassment on her face.

  “Absolutely, sir. I will be a gentleman,” Benjamin answered.

  “I’m counting on you, son. This is my daughter.” Elizabeth’s father aimed his forefinger at Benjamin while he spoke.

  “Eh-hm.” Elizabeth cleared her throat and entered the room. Everyone stood and turned to look at her. Dressed in a blue, floral dress, Elizabeth was beautiful, and Benjamin couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Father? May we leave now?” Elizabeth asked. Her hand was poised on her hip.

  Mr. Hudson was visibly taken back. After mumbling “Fine,” he extended his hand to Benjamin.

  “Thank you. I’ll have her home early.” A sense of relief overcame Benjamin.

  “I’m really sorry about my parents,” Elizabeth said after they were a block away.

  “Don’t be. I understand.” Benjamin glanced at her as he drove. “Your father’s just nervous about letting go of his daughter. That’s all.” He smiled. “I would be too. If… I mean, if I were a parent, I would be protective of my daughter, too.”

  They talked the entire ride to Westport. Elizabeth was everything he thought she was and more.

  At the movie theater, they sat a few rows away from their friends and shared popcorn. When the music grew loud and everyone jumped in anxiety, Elizabeth turned to cover her eyes, burying them in Benjamin’s chest. He carefully put his hand on her shoulder to console her, until the music quieted and she could open her eyes.

  “Sorry,” Elizabeth whispered.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “Do you want to leave?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Elizabeth sat upright in her seat until the music increased again. “Will you… I mean, um…?” She mumbled something Benjamin couldn’t understand, glancing between him and the screen as if afraid to look.

  “We can leave, if you’d like,” he whispered.

  “No, no…” She looked at him. “Would you please hold my hand?”

  Benjamin nodded, smiling inside. He held her hand gently in his. Long after the scary scene ended and the movie continued, Elizabeth never let go.

  When the movie was over, they stood to leave. Benjamin leaned down to apologize for taking her to a movie that frightened her. There, in the semi-dark theater, she kissed his cheek. Instinctively, he touched his face.

  “Would you like to get an ice cream soda?” he asked, as they exited the theater. Elizabeth’s eyes brightened and he knew the answer was yes before she said it aloud.

  At the ice cream shop across from the street, they sat in a corner booth, each ordering a different flavored soda. She ordered chocolate. He preferred vanilla.

  They talked about their families and their dreams.

  “I always wanted to go to art school,” Elizabeth said, but her eyes confirmed she wouldn’t. “My mother’s not well. I must help my father in the store.”

  Benjamin listened patiently as the beautiful girl before him spoke of her love for her family, her fear for her mother’s unknown illness, and the sorrow she faced having lost touch with her sister.

  “Catherine told Father she was going to school.” Elizabeth glanced up at Benjamin before continuing. “I knew she dropped out, but I could never tell him.”

  When Elizabeth asked about his family, Benjamin explained he was an only child. “My father was in the Navy,” Benjamin told her. “He retired a captain.”

  “That’s what you told my father you planned to do. Right?”

  He swallowed the invisible lump in his throat, and then nodded. “I mean, my father said it’s a good living, and I want to provide for my family. Someday.”

  Elizabeth smiled, and Benjamin reached for her hand.

  Five minutes before Elizabeth’s curfew, Benjamin parked in front of the store. He jumped out of the truck. Opening her door, he noticed Mr. Hudson watching from the window. Elizabeth thanked him when he helped her to the sidewalk.

  “I really enjoyed your company this evening,” he said.

  “I did, too.” Her cheeks turned pink. “Thank you.”

  “I apologize for taking you to a scary movie. That was inconsiderate of me.”

  “Oh, no… please. It’s me. I like going, I… I just need to close my eyes,” she said, her cheeks getting redder. “My sister would usually go with me.” She looked down, embarrassed.

  “Well, I don’t mind holding your hand,” he paused, “since she’s not here.”

  “Maybe there will be another scary movie out soon,” she teased. He could tell she was as nervous as he was.

  “Can I take you out again, then?” Benjamin asked.

  Elizabeth smiled. “I would like that very much.”

  As he drove away that night, he knew he would marry her.

  Decades later, sitting in the boardroom at the Afterworld’s Bureau of Investigation, Ben could still feel her kiss on his cheek and the warmth of her hand. They married a few years later. Ben loved her with his whole heart, until the day he died, and every day after.

  Seeing how her life unfolded without him, he hung his head. Images of Elizabeth as a widow, a middle-aged woman abused and depressed, and a mother struggling to survive, haunted him.

  He fought the anger he felt for abandoning her, and he hoped she forgave him.

  Watching the video stream before him, Ben realized the images of his soul mate switched from her life as Elizabeth, to her new life as Emma. A young, freckled girl smiled on the swings and picked dandelions from the yard. Childhood gave way to adolescence, and with it came dances and makeup, and the unfortunate passing of her mother. Ben watched as young Emma grew up before his eyes. He smiled at her accomplishments and choked back tears when he witnessed her mother’s funeral. Emma was just as beautiful in this life as she was in the past.

  Fast-forwarding to the future, Ben realized losing her mother wasn’t the only tragedy Emma would experience in this lifetime. There was more to come, and he wanted to be there for her.

  Would she remember him? Would she still love him?

  He had to find out.

  Aftermath is available on all platforms 12/2/14

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  Step, step, breathe, breathe, step, step, breathe, breathe. My shoes kept a steady rhythm with my burning lungs. I veered off my regular path, opting to hear the crunch of the leaves beneath my feet. The image of my mom’s disapproving face was ignored as I leapt across a gurgling brook. Breathe, breathe, crunch, crunch.

  If I wasn’t mountain biking, I was running. I craved speed and freedom. I had to escape the oppressive perfection of living in the Campbell home. Thinking of my two older sisters, one model and the other a star volleyball player, my legs lunged, lengthening their stride. Not good at team sports and terrified by cameras, I knew my family felt my height was wasted on me.

  Even Jeremy gives me a hard time.

  A stitch pinched my side.
Breathe, breathe. I knew I was going too fast, not pacing myself right. Something was urging me on, pushing me to scale the hill before me, and plunge deeper into the woods. I refocused on my rhythm, my inhales and exhales, and my body realigned itself, goose bumps shooting across my arms. There it is. I’d hit my second wind and I surged on, not caring where my feet led.

  It’s freedom! Complete and—

  There was a rush of air, a whistling in my ear, and a sting to the back of my arm. Instantly, I tumbled to the ground, sliding into the damp morning dew. Cold dirt filled my nostrils as blackness enveloped me.

  ***

  I heard my own labored breathing long before I realized I was somewhere in between awake and asleep. Forcing my eyes open, I gasped. My senses took everything in at once—the smell of wood shavings, the scratchy ropes on my wrists and ankles, and the pressure of the mattress beneath my body. I screamed, but the empty room with wooden floors and stacked logs for walls was empty. No one burst through the door in the corner.

  Realizing it was useless and only making my throat raw, I fell silent. Panic flooded me. How did I get here? I pressed my thoughts to retrace my steps, but my mind felt sluggish. My last memory was running in the woods just before sunrise. I could still feel the burn from the autumn air hitting my lungs. Now the solitary window painted a yellow rectangle on the floor. The room felt stuffy. It’s probably late afternoon. But is it the same day?

  The minutes rolled slowly into hours, the silence suffocating. What had my therapist said to do when I was scared? Breathe deeply and don’t panic. It was too late for that; all the years of therapy after my childhood accident were rendered useless. I’m drowning all over again. Only this time, it wasn’t water filling my lungs but pure fear and terror pressing down on my chest. I gulped in dry air, my eyes burning with tears.

  No one’s coming to save me. A sob escaped me as the real horror of the situation washed over me. I’m tied up. Someone knows I’m here. What would happen when they came back? As the last rays of light were snuffed out by the shadows of the night, that someone came through the wooden door.

  ***

  “Just tell me—what do you want?” I asked, knowing it was pointless. In the three weeks—or had it been longer?—of my imprisonment, I had yet to get an answer. He never spoke.

  I blinked, trying to clear the blurry blob that occasionally floated across my right eye. Never having glasses before, I was annoyed by my hazy vision. I blinked again, my eyes refocusing on the figure pacing the room. What had started as a dull headache was now a hammer drumming at the back of my eye sockets. I need water. My stomach grumbled with nauseating hunger.

  There was no escaping the noxious, pinstriped mattress, except for the periodic bathroom breaks, which weren’t frequent enough.

  My jaw quivered, and I clamped my mouth shut. Don’t start chattering now, I commanded myself, knowing it usually ended with my whole body convulsing. October was merciless on my bare skin; my arms and legs were permanently smattered with goose bumps.

  Stupid running shorts. I wished for the thousandth time I’d listened to my mom and worn a sensible sweat suit that day. The swish-swish of his warm ski parka and pants seemed to mock me, as he continued his route of six steps forward and then six steps back again.

  First time in my life that I love my leg hair.

  Too late, I realized it was quiet, the rhythmic swish-swish gone. In one impossible leap, he was next to me. I squeaked out in surprise. This wasn’t the first time he’d come close, but usually he ambled over, producing a long needle from his pocket.

  Silently, he pressed his face against mine, the black ski mask tickling my forehead and nose. I shied away, terrified by both his touch and the change in his behavior. My bindings made my attempt to move useless, so I squeezed my eyes shut. My chest heaved up and down as my heart galloped against my rib cage. It’s ok. He’s got a needle. The pinch’s coming still. It’ll be over soon, I consoled myself.

  The ski mask lifted off my face. I tried to steady my pulse, inhaling slowly. Not daring to open my eyes, I waited, but there was still no pinch. The stillness stretched on, with only his heavy breathing letting me know he was near. Never talking, the mechanical sounds he produced reminded me of Darth Vader. I long since decided that he was actually a human and the protruding square under his mask was just a voice modulator. He’s still a monster. His growling sounds sent chills through me.

  Maybe he has food. I cracked my eyelids, peeking through feathered lashes. His body leaned over mine, elevated by knuckles planted in the mattress. Terror rippled through me. Why isn’t he drugging me? Why isn’t he drugging me? I welcomed my arm being stuck with a needle. It was my only escape from this nightmare.

  With tall boots, gloves, and a long, knit mask, I hadn’t known if my abductor was male or female at first. Now with the way he moved, stared at me, and shoved water bottles and bread into my mouth, I knew he, it, was a man.

  The bed lowered as he sat down next to me, his weight pulling my body toward him. The bedsores on my backside smarted at the slight shift. Even with his face covered, I could feel him ogling me. One hand reached out, stroking my matted hair down, brushing errant strands from my face. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to bite his glove. He hadn’t actually hit me before, but I didn’t want to take my chances. Maybe I should bite him. Maybe it’ll end this misery.

  The breathing halted as the ski mask cocked to one side.

  His voice slurred. “What do I want?” I bit my lip to keep from gasping. He’d never responded before. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I want you to fall in love with me.”

  Holy freak! He’s more insane than I thought! I swallowed, forcing my dry tongue to moisten my mouth. “I’ll never love you!”

  He chuckled, the sound like a horror movie. “Yes, you will. You see, I’ve always loved you, Samantha, or should I call you Sammy?”

  He knows my name? Dark spots popped in my vision, and my body felt like it was floating several feet above my head. Crap, I’m going to pass out!

  He touched my arm with his gloved hand.

  “Don’t!” I hissed, and he instantly recoiled. Dumbstruck, I stared at the ski mask. Is he really listening to me? I didn’t want to faint or be drugged. Not if this was my one chance to talk to him. Pulse pounding in my ears, the adrenaline cleared my mind, giving me courage. “Please, I need water.”

  He cocked his head to the side, as if considering, and then produced a small water bottle from his pant pocket. A gloved hand tugged my hairs out as he elevated my head, but this time, he didn’t shove the bottle against my lips. I drained it within seconds, not satiated, and wanting more.

  I asked again, “What do you want? Why am I here?”

  “I already told you. I want you to fall in love with me.”

  “Then let me go! Untie me,” I begged as something wet tickled my lips. I licked the salty tear away.

  He didn’t say anything, just sat next to me breathing.

  “Who are you?” I persisted. Again, silence. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

  “That depends on how long it takes.”

  “For what?”

  “For,” he paused, “you to love me.”

  I resisted the hysterical laughter bubbling within me. He’s serious, completely psychotic, but serious.

  “How can I,” I hesitated, “fall in love with someone I can’t see? Why don’t you take your mask off?”

  “No!” he barked, jumping to his feet.

  Relieved he was further away, I decided to push him. This might be my only chance.

  “Can I know your name at least?”

  “No.”

  “Ok, well, how do you know me then?”

  “I’ve known you a long time.”

  I shuddered. “Do I know you personally?”

  “Yes.” The voice modifier made it sound like a growl.

  My body began shaking. “What do you want?” I whispered.

  “Why do you keep asking
the same question over and over? You’re smarter than this. That’s why you’re so unique, Sammy. You’re not only beautiful, you’re brilliant.”

  Okay, maybe he doesn’t know me that well. I’m anything but brilliant. Stay calm. Keep him talking. “Why are you drugging me? Why can’t we just talk then?”

  His sigh sounded more like a roar. “You ask too many questions, Samantha. You need to sleep now.”

  “No!” But he grabbed my arm with one hand, while the other produced the all-too-familiar needle. “No,” I begged. “I can sleep without it! I don’t need it!”

  “Yes, you do. I know what’s best for you. Trust me; this is for your own good. And this one is a special blend; I made it myself. You’ll sleep wonderful tonight.”

  I thrashed against the ropes, but it was no use. The tip of the needle burned my skin.

  He paused and then glanced down at me, his ski mask moving with his mouth. “Wait, I want to tell you something first.” I could no longer feel the point of the needle against my skin. “You are going to fall in love with me Samantha. It’s only a matter of time. You’ll be mine one day. One day you’ll lie in my arms and kiss my lips.” His gloved finger traced my lips.

  I turned away and spat, “Never! I’ll never love you!”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. We’re meant for each other, and no one can ever love you like I do. You were always my special girl.”

  My head snapped back to glare at him. Special girl? Only one person said that to me. A sinking sensation flooded my body as I gasped, “Jeremy? Is that you?”

  The needle inserted, but I no longer cared about the pinch and the burn it caused. All I knew was the scrambled voice that said, “I guess you’ll never know now, will you?”

  I struggled to respond but the drug worked fast, seeping through my veins like ice-cold water hitting an empty stomach. My body welcomed it, drifting off into the black void it created.