Immersion Read online

  “Jade, I’m trying not to use my — gifts. It freaks out my mom.”

  “Why, that doesn’t sound like your mom.”

  “I don’t know what happened over there, but when she got back here, she was different and things went from bad to worse at sonic speed. My grandparents died in a car accident when coming to visit us, she quit her research and she has been fighting with my dad … and hiding.”

  “What do you mean, hiding?”

  “She doesn’t let me see her emotions, unless it’s her anger.”

  “What do you mean, see emotions? You mean facial expressions and body language?”

  “No, I see them in colors around the person. I feel them in the pit of my stomach, and taste the pain in my throat. I feel your excitement right now, and I feel your confusion and sadness when you think of your mom, and your hope of finding her alive. I feel the anxiety you’re always pushing away. You’re afraid the room will start to spin and you will faint. You think I can help you find your mom, but I can’t.”

  “Wow! That’s incredible. That makes me feel —”

  “Vulnerable and uncomfortable,” he said.

  “You’re freaking me out.” She stepped back. Okay Jade, pull yourself together; what are the facts, let’s get the facts. “Were you always able to sense others’ feelings and thoughts? Or only since you were in the parallel space?”

  He could feel her deliberately regrouping and adopting a new stance. “Always,” he said. “I’ve tried to shut it down, push it away, pretend it’s not happening. Hiding away.”

  “Hiding — that’s what you just said about your mom. You have an amazing ability to know what someone else is feeling.”

  Kevin and Jade were at the bench talking, their backs to the door, when Daniel cleared his throat and said, “So, you’re Ellen’s daughter.” He held out his hand to shake hers.

  Quickly Kevin jumped in and said, “Dad, I think she’s got OCD. You might have to wash your hands first.”

  Jade elbowed Kevin in the ribs and shook Daniel’s hand.

  “I wish it could have been under pleasanter circumstances,” Daniel said. “Callie spoke highly of your mother.”

  “Are we going to leave, like the policeman suggested?” Kevin asked.

  “I don’t think so. Where would we go?”

  5

  Celestial warriors: Sophia. Scotland.

  Joe hit a bump in the road, startling Sophia from her waking dream. She blinked and pinched herself, making sure she was back in the car. She dipped her neck to the left, and then the right, to stretch it. Fields of poppies sailed past as Joe picked up speed before coming to a sudden stop. Up ahead was an abandoned military blockade.

  “We’re not going anywhere along this road,” Joe said.

  Abandoned cars led up to a tall, electric fence. Hanging off the fence were dozens of jittering bodies. How they were still alive, Sophia couldn’t begin to imagine.

  “Bless these souls that hang before me,” Joe said.

  “Amen,” said Father McDonald.

  Joe reversed the car, swinging it around. He turned down a side road and pulled over.

  “Where are we?” Sophia asked.

  “We’re past Paisley, heading south-west.”

  “We have to be on the east coast,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning her arms on the back of the front seats. The sky was a hive of activity and growing darker. The light of the sun was hidden behind the iron-colored clouds.

  “We tried, we can’t get through. I had to turn around. We are being pushed in this direction,” Joe said.

  “Then we should keep moving,” Father McDonald said, “in the direction God is guiding you. You asked him to bless the souls that belonged to those bodies; he will also bless you for asking. Don’t be reactive, trust in the light.”

  Joe twirled the red string around his wrist and counted the seven knots his brother had tied. It was starting to look a little frayed. He reached for the light switch.

  “No, don’t turn them on.” Sophia nearly jumped over the seat to turn them off herself.

  Joe felt her urgency. His skin crawled with fear. He felt himself fraying like his red string. The clouds merged together and it was hard to see the road in front of them.

  “Drive,” Father McDonald said, pulling off the handbrake.

  “I can’t.” Joe was feeling melancholy and extremely tired. “No, I have to sleep now.” His eyes started to close; his arms dropped from the steering wheel.

  “Yes, you can!” Sophia said and pinched him at the base of his neck. Joe jumped in pain, his eyes opened and he stared with a blank face. The horror of the bodies hanging from the gate flashed in front of his face, along with his brother’s body and all the images of death that the media shared: it was overwhelming.

  “No, I need to sleep.”

  The skies grew even darker; the howling wind was rocking the car. “We have to go. If you don’t we are going to die, Joe. God sent you to help us. You must push aside the lingering negative images. The demonic angels have also heard your prayers for blessings for those poor souls. They are now searching for you; they heard your tears, Joe. God believes in you and they know it.”

  Sophia placed her hand on the back of his neck. His mind filled with images of his mother putting his first red string around his tiny chubby wrist, the sweetness of his first kiss, his first love, and how alive he felt. He saw the memory of his brother’s wedding day. He saw the images of hellos and goodbyes, and the smiles from the people who came and went from his restaurant. Sophia withdrew her hand gently; the images faded, but his feelings remained high. “Connect to those feelings, Joe.”

  He put the car into gear and drove blindly into the darkness.

  Sophia sat back against the seat, closed her eyes and imagined a tether, like a leash to a dog, and left her body. She only went up a short distance, stopping just outside and hovering over the roof of the car. It was too dangerous to venture further, she would be noticed. She couldn’t move beyond the fragile protective shell. She flipped over onto her back and looked up. Above, in the sky, angels — bad and good — battled, armed with bolts of lightning. The lights were diminishing as celestial warriors were beaten and the devil’s horde absorbed their essences. There was one angel that grew brighter; it had three sets of wings and wielded a sword, its breath fire like a dragon. Its enemies were reduced to ash and the substance floated from the sky to land on the windscreen.

  Joe turned on the wipers and Father McDonald prayed from Ephesians 6:10-18. “Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God: Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints.”

  “Amen,” Joe said, and started mumbling his own prayer. “Ana beko’ach gedulat yeminecha tatir tzrua. Kabel rinat amecha sagevenu taharenu nora …”

  Joe glanced into the rear-vision mirror. Sophia’s body was still and upright and tears dripped from her chin. Her spiritual body, outside, could no longer endure the visions of the battle. She was starting to feel the hand of darkness grappling for her heart and soul. She had forgotten why she came out here and slipped back into her physical body, ignoring the pain of her ethereal body retracting. Before opening her eyes or entirely merging back into herself, she said, “Take the next turn.”

  “Left or right?” Joe said. She didn’t answer.

  “You’ll know it when you get there,” Father McDonald said.

  “I can’t see shit! Sorry, Father.” Up ahead, he saw a pinprick of light and wondered if it was real or just his imaginati
on. “Can you see that?”

  “See what, Joe?” Father McDonald asked.

  “That light? It’s growing.” He thought he heard his mother calling his name from deep within his head. He watched the speck get bigger and bigger until a form appeared, with three sets of wings slowly unfolding, surrounded by divine light. “Can you see it now? It’s right in front of us.”

  Father McDonald was in a cold sweat as he sat forward, pressing hard against the dashboard, straining to see; his palms left damp imprints that quickly faded. “I see nothing, Joe.”

  He was so close Joe could see the definition in the angel’s anatomy and its youthful face. Joe was afraid he was going to hit it, crash and kill them all. After driving in pitch black, the light was so blinding. He had to close his eyes. He yanked the steering wheel, turning sharply to the right, the car sliding and swerving. He corrected and opened his eyes and the sky was its usual pale grey, and the sun was shining somewhere. He slammed on the brakes.

  “I told you, Joe, you would know,” Sophia said.

  “Can we pull over for a wee bit, hen?” Joe asks.

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “There is a tiny bit of forest about five minutes ahead. A cluster of trees of sorts. I’ll pull up over there and hide the car.” They went off road, squeezing between the hazel and mountain ash trees. They got out of the car and stretched their legs. Sophia was a little unsteady, but quickly came good. Father McDonald put his hands to his lower back and stretched backwards, cracking arthritic bones, while Joe stretched his arms up and down. They looked like a bunch of friends limbering up to do calisthenics. Under any other circumstance it would be funny.

  “I think I know this place, it’s a wooded glen. We’re near Dusk Water, not far from the coast,” Joe said. “When my brother and I were young lads we used to imagine we were smugglers; our ship anchored off the coast, we would row ashore to find a hiding place for our loot, which would be Cleeves Cove caves. There are a couple of entrances to a natural cave system that has been the location of a few myths.” Joe started walking off, exploring the area.

  Sophia followed him, Father McDonald trailing behind both of them with his hands on his hips, occasionally stopping to take in deep breaths of fresh air. Further into the woods, they heard a waterfall and the terrain became very damp and mossy. It was also very lovely. Sophia helped Father McDonald while he jumped over green rocks and climbed over fallen, velvety trees. Wild foliage and large trees like hazel and mountain ash. A large rock loomed above the cave’s opening.

  “This is awesome,” Joe said. “This is the place where my childhood ghost stories began. Who figured I’d be taking refuge here one day?” He helped Father McDonald up into the entrance of the cave where he sat down to rest, clutching his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” Sophia crouched beside him and wrapped her arm around him.

  “I need my backpack, my heart pills.”

  “I’ll go.” Joe rushed off. He swiftly jumped down over the trees and rocks and up the other side of the glen. In a short time, he was back with three backpacks.

  “There in the side pocket,” Father McDonald said.

  Sophia fished them out and gave him the bottle. His hand was trembling, and he couldn’t get the lid off. Sophia took the bottle from him and pushed a pill into the palm of his hand. He swallowed; they all waited. His color started to return and he said, “Just a few months ago, I carried you into the church and laid you down on the very pew you were born on, and today I can hardly lift up my own arm. I have aged a hundred years over the last few weeks.”

  “You’ll be right, old man,” Joe said patting him on the back. “You just need to catch your breath, and let those pills work their magic.” Joe waited till Father McDonald stopped sweating and his body had relaxed.

  Sophia was wiping his brow with the sleeve of her jacket. “How’s the pain?” she asked.

  “Just about gone, and so are my pills,” he said.

  “I’m going to have a wee stickybeak inside the cave, if you two are okay with that?” Joe said.

  Father McDonald opened his eyes and nodded his approval and closed them again.

  Joe pulled out his torch. “I won’t be gone very long. Will you both be alright?”

  “We’ll be fine,” Sophia said.

  “There’s some chocolate fudge protein bars in the front pocket of my pack. Help yourself.” Joe walked into the limestone cave, leaving Sophia and Father McDonald to rest for a while.

  The cave was cold and smelt damp. It opened up into a larger musty chamber. The further he penetrated, the more the air became stagnant. Joe took one of the tunnels branching off the main chamber that led east, further away from the coast. This is what he imagined as a kid. He stopped to lay his hand on the rock face, feeling for its heartbeat. There were more passageways branching to the left and right, but he went straight ahead, then took the second left for twenty-five yards. It started to curve and the air became sour, his eyes watering. He covered his mouth, and imagined a gutted animal that had come in to die. A real exploration of the caves would have to wait for another time, when his brother could be with him. Then he remembered the blood on the kitchen floor. His brother was dead. Lots of people were dead, and more people were going to die. He was on borrowed time; there was no later.

  All of a sudden he felt claustrophobic. He had only been gone about ten minutes but it felt like an hour. He started to make his way back to the main entrance. He stopped at a junction and now couldn’t recall if he had gone left or right. He stood looking down each tunnel trying to decide which way to go. Making choices wasn’t his strongest trait: there were always too many variables, too many choices to weigh, so his brother, a man of action, had usually taken care of the decisions while he Joe did the hard yakka. He chose the passage on the left, but it soon became colder and unfamiliar. Joe quickly turned around and went back the way he came, moving towards the right. He arrived back at the same point and without hesitation took the right passage, and it wasn’t long till he could see it opening onto the main chamber. He could see the light from outside and the silhouette of Father McDonald leaning against the cave wall, and Sophia standing at the opening tossing something into the scrub. Sophia turned towards him and he couldn’t see her face; she had a glow about her. “I thought you had gotten lost.” she said. “Father McDonald was exhausted so he’s drifted into a deep sleep.”

  Joe sat down beside them and pulled out a peppermint chocolate protein bar from his backpack. He tried to rip it open, rustling the wrapper and making a considerable amount of noise. His big hands were searching for a good place to pinch the sides and pull it open, with no luck. He smacked it down on his knee hard and the bar popped out the other end. “Do you want a bite?” He offered the bar to Sophia.

  “No, I’m good,” she said. “I’ve just been enjoying an apple. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “No, not at all.” He nodded towards Father McDonald. “Is he okay?”

  “I hope so.” She sat down next to the priest and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. Joe sat against the opposite wall of the entrance, and waited with Sophia for Father McDonald to wake.

  *

  “Tell me again about your red string,” Sophia said.

  She watched Joe look down at his wrist and start running his finger underneath it. She copied him, twirling the knots between her fingers; it was soft and she found the motion relaxing.

  “It was wound around the tomb of Rachel, the matriarch,” Joe said, “for her protection and blessings. For me, it is a reminder to treat people how I would like to be treated. Not to bully or judge. To forget about jealousy, because it’s poisonous and makes you old and bitter. It keeps me positive. We all have negativity, we all need to duck and weave from the evil glances of others. It’s also a constant reminder of my mother, my childhood, and how important it is to try and see the good in the chaos around us, especially in times like these.”

  Sophia watched
his face change with each thought. He actually believed in what he was saying, she realized. The energy around him changed: he had started with bright vibrant shades of earthy colors and now they were softening, becoming cool blue and violet. The dominant color in the central part of his being was a glowing green. It moved like a turning crystal in the sunlight. She wondered what it would be like if what he said was true. She fiddled with her red string and wished it would come true. All the dark angels would starve and flee; they would choke and burn in hell because of the mass consciousness sending out good thoughts and desires. The world would light up like a Christmas tree every day. Could it be that simple?

  “What you have to do is have certainty,” Joe said.

  “Certainty in what?” she asked.

  “In whatever it is you’re doing. Like how you said I would know which way to turn, back there. You had certainty; you didn’t doubt it for a minute, did you?”

  “Well, no.”

  “That’s what you have to feel. That feeling where there is no possibility for anything else, no room for doubt. You have to have certainty and go for it. I had doubt and glimpsed your reflection in the rear-vision mirror. You were struggling internally and at that moment I had certainty in you.”

  “They should teach us this at school,” Sophia said.

  “Something is guiding you beyond my vision. There’s something that surrounds you, a magic that floats just out of my sight, Sophia.”

  She saw his energy change and his muscles tense.

  The sound of a couple of larrikins screeching and laughing across the paddocks could be heard through the forest canopy. Joe stopped. “They must have seen the car.”

  Sophia could hear the slamming of doors and the jabber about who might own the vehicle, and where they were. A dark cloud hung above them, masked by the trees but Sophia could sense it. She woke Father McDonald. “We have to go.”

  Father McDonald was dazed, unsure of where he was. Joe was suddenly by his side, supporting him and picking up his pack, tossing it over his shoulder and his own bag over the other.