Chapter 10
His coffee cup clinked slightly as he placed it down with gentle care. It was expensive China that the McAllister’s had given him that one Christmas and he treated it as such. This was his morning routine, to have coffee and pastries with his secretary Jane Mulrooney. She was an older woman, nearing 60 but still as bright and sharp as a 20 year old. She was as devoted to her job as she was to the Lord and since she attended Church whenever she could and even did readings, in his book, she was as devoted as one could get without being a Nun. She was also a real joy to have in the rectory, since truth be told, this place could get mighty lonely. To at least be able to hear someone puttering about downstairs, making coffee, typing on the computer, talking on the phone, it was a comfort when the hours stretched too long and the silence became too loud to bear.
She always showed up to work with donuts or cinnamon rolls or some other sweet and Father Mulkerrin always made the coffee. Then they would sit quietly, chatting occasionally but for the most part it was silent though a comfortable one. If Samuel knew what it was like to be married, he would have compared it to the sort of comfort a Husband and Wife must have around one another. Just at peace in each others presence, nothing more, no questioning, no obligation to fill the air with idle chit chat, just comfort and peace.
That was his life’s goal after all, to find pure peace in his life with the Lord’s help and to show that peace to others and guide them onto the path of being one with the Lord as well. It was hard work sometimes, especially with the younger generations. Peoples Faith was faltering and he knew why. It was a hard and cruel world they lived in and try as he might, most kids were already lost. They played video games, watched TV shows, their minds were warped to think that guns and bloodshed, violence and horror was “cool” while living a good and noble life was “lame.”
But today was not a day to worry about these things. If they were meant to accept God, they would accept him in due time. All Father Mulkerrin could do was be there for them when they came to this realization. And he would be, as he always was. He was there for all the people in his Parish and they were there for him.
His thoughts were soon broken by the clink of Mrs. Mulrooney’s cup and a contented sigh. Glancing away from the window and over to her he smiled gently and she smiled back, saying easily, “That was just what I needed. It was tough to get out of bed this morning.”
Nodding in agreement he took another sip of his coffee and said quietly, “That it was, it’s getting colder outside, makes it a chore to get up in the morning.” With a smile the older woman nodded and stood, gathering her coffee cup and saucer and walked into the next room. Samuel listened distractedly as the water ran in the Kitchen as she rinsed their plates out in the sink. She would run the dishwasher for him in the afternoon, most likely after lunch; it was part of their routine.
As he listened to her rinse out the dishes and heard them clattering against the metal of the sink, his mind drifted to the dream he had had that night. He often had dreams where he comforted people; it was in his nature to be a caregiver. But it had been so long since he had dreamt of Paul. And he was surprised at how much he had been thinking about it. Shaking his head he sighed and wondered what Mrs. Mulrooney would say about it. They talked about dreams sometimes and Faith, obviously. She had been his friend for years, he was sure she would listen and not judge.
So with a quiet clearing of his throat he lifted his head and let his fingers rest on the tabletop, not turning around to glance at the doorway, figuring she would come back into the room at her own pace. His voice was gentle, but loud enough to be heard in the kitchen, blue eyes gazing out the window at the cars passing by and the birds flying.
“Mrs. Mulrooney…what stock do you hold in dreams?”
Her footsteps were soft as she came back through the kitchen and sat down in her usual seat. Her smile was bright but gentle, eyes compassionate and a little confused at his random question. But she answered as always, voice soft and soothing.
“I don’t think they’re as symbolic as some people do but, I think they’re there for a reason. Why?”
He felt his brows furrow as he frowned and thought. Why was he asking this? Did he want confirmation that he wasn’t crazy? Was he nearing some sort of mental breakdown because he dreamt about his long dead twin? Did this dream have more significance or was he just exaggerating, blowing things out of proportion? His blue eyes must have looked as confused as he felt because when he raised his eyes her face had softened and her eyes were worried but he was quick to speak, to try and dispel her concerns.
“I had a dream last night about my Brother…Paul, my twin who died when we were young. I’ve mentioned him before?”
The older woman nodded and said gently, “Yes, once or twice, I know that you two were very close.”
Samuel nodded and took a deep breath for a moment, to try and steady himself. He watched his fingers rest against the white table cloth, listened to the hum of the radiator, the usual sounds of the old rectory settling. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to dredge up all the old memories. But he knew that this dream was important, for whatever reason. He just knew it in his heart. With a resigned sigh he shook his head and glanced up at Joan Mulrooney once more and said in a soft voice, “I haven’t dreamt of him in years. I pray for him, I pray that his soul is at peace and that he is in the presence of God and I pray that I will see him again. But…I haven’t thought about him in such a long time.”
His lips pursed tight together as he paused and thought, trying to sort through his words. Blinking slowly he glanced up at Joan, who was watching him with a soft but sad smile, patient as always, letting him finish his story.
“It wasn’t a nightmare, nothing frightening or unsettling about it. But what sticks out in my mind is when I hugged my Mother, to comfort her, I remember feeling very peaceful. I understood that Paul’s time had come, that God had called him home and that he was alright, that he was safe and happy where he was. And I remember holding my Mother, who had been crying so hard before, but as I thought about how peaceful and happy Paul must be, I began to feel the same way, serene, happy for my Brother that he had found this eternal rest, that he was in paradise. And as I felt that serenity, I realized that my Mother’s shoulders had relaxed, that she was no longer crying and when I looked down she was looking up at me with a smile, looking as reassured and confident as I was, assured that Paul was somewhere better.”
Again his lips pursed tight together as he tried to think this through. Was that it, was he unsettled by the fact that his Mother had been so sure of Paul’s fate, that she had felt the same as he, that Paul was in a better place? Was he unnerved by the fact that it had been as if his very emotions had drifted from his mind to steal into his Mothers’ and make her feel the very same way? Why would that upset him though? Shaking his head he let out a slight laugh and ran fingers through his unruly brown hair and leaned back in the chair saying with a bit of a smile, “It was just…strange I guess. I don’t usually have that affect on people or something, but…it was just a dream.”
Blue eyes glanced up at Mrs. Mulrooney again and he was comforted to see that she was sitting there, still smiling and understanding. As he laughed it off and shrugged, saying that it was just a dream, all she did was reach forward and squeeze his fingers with her own for a moment. Then she stood and smiled down at him, her voice soft and comforting, as always.
“I think that dream was just God’s way of telling you that you’re a very good person, very strong in your Faith and people come to you to feel comforted in troubled times, like your Mother, you’re able to comfort people with a word.”
At her kind words Samuel smiled gently and gave her fingers a squeeze back as he nodded and said, “Thank you Joan…that means a lot.” And it did. Sometimes he wondered if the older woman really knew how much he appreciated having her around. His chance to tell her was thwarted though as the phone rang sharply through the house and she hurried off to answer it. As he listened to her chat away in the other room he leaned back in his chair and went back to looking out of the window, watching the world pass by and wondering if her words were true. Did God give him that dream for a reason? Or was it just a dream…
He would probably never know.
]]>Chapter 9
That bird was staring at her. Its beady black eyes kept looking at her, she knew it. She was sure if anyone saw her out here having a staring contest with a normal, every day sparrow; they’d think she was insane. And right now, Jenny was pretty sure she wouldn’t disagree with them. That dream had just been so vivid, she hadn’t had one of those in a really long time, at least not that she could remember. Still, even though she knew she was acting crazy, she stood there, smoking her cigarette slowly and staring at the bird, trying to will it to speak.
A little chirp and it tipped its puffy head, watching her carefully. With a small hop it brought itself just a hair closer and Jenny took another drag off her cigarette. Another chirp and another hop brought it just that bit closer and Jenny felt a slight, tremulous smile creep to her lips. This was crazy; the thing was just coming closer to her because it probably thought she had food. Animals didn’t actually know what she was thinking. It had just been a dream.
She had been trying to convince herself of that fact all morning. But after four cups of coffee and barely any work done, she still couldn’t shake it. It was just too weird. And why had Rhine been there? She hadn’t thought about that poor Dog for years. Tock made sense, she owned him right now. But the neighbors cat, the crow, it was just weird. She had always liked animals, had always found them fascinating, always wanted as many of them as she could. Her Mother had only been willing to let her have Rhine, and then a little Beta Fish she had called Bluey.
But, she wasn’t Dr. Doolittle or anything; it had just been a dream. Still, as the Sparrow hopped ever closer, she couldn’t help but wonder. Blinking slowly she let out another drag off her cigarette and turned to put it in the ashtray. And then the small bird had hopped up from the ground and flapped its wings the short distance until it was sitting on the edge of the ashcan, just inches from Jenny’s fingers.
Instantly she froze, a breath of laughter dying on her lips. This was insane, stuff like this didn’t happen. With her luck the thing had rabies. But then again, could birds even get rabies? Still…mingled with the tension and fear that the proximity of the bird stirred within her, she was intrigued as well. Tentatively she lifted up her hand, fingers bent slightly, reaching, slow millimeter by slow millimeter towards the small bird but then, a voice broke her concentration and the bird flew off.
“Those things bite ya know.”
The frown that pressed against her lips was sudden and furious. Turning around with a glare she found herself looking at Peter Smith, one of her friends/adversaries at work. She liked but hated him all at the same time, she wasn’t sure how that was possible but, she did all the same. With a sigh she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms stubbornly before her chest, saying lightly, “Biting requires teeth…if anything it would’ve pecked me…”
She heard the clink of a zippo lighter and glanced with narrowed eyes to watch as he flipped the contraption open and quickly lit his cigarette. The cover clacked closed and he tossed it in his blazer pocket, dragging the smoke into his lungs for a long time and watching her with narrowed eyes. But his eyes weren’t narrowed out of anger as hers were; they were narrowed to ward off the sting of smoke as it drifted off on the breeze. And once he had let out that breath he motioned towards her with his cigarette and began walking down the stairs towards her, though Jenny visibly stiffened.
“So, you’re a bird expert huh? A member of the Audubon society and everything?”
Rolling her eyes she let out a sigh and couldn’t help but smile as she shook her head and brushed a stray strand of curly brown hair from her eyes, saying quietly, “No…”
He walked down the rest of the stairs and then moved to sit on the last one, stretching his long legs out and crossing his ankles together, pointing at her with the glowing cigarette. His eyes were still narrowed but now it was because of the gleaming afternoon sun shining brightly off the windshields of the many cars stretched across the parking lot. She listened to his words and watched dimly as the smoke drifted off his cigarette.
“So for all you know, that bird could be like the only bird with teeth and I just saved you from a vicious mauling from a rabid sparrow.”
Pursing her lips together she lifted a brow at him and said with a grin, “Are there many rabid sparrows here in Seattle?”
The man spread his hands wide and then rummaged in his pocket for a minute to pull out an extra cigarette and hold it out to her, saying with a smile that was all teeth, “Oh hundreds.” Taking the offered cigarette she lit it quickly and then sat down next to him, saying through a breath of smoke, the smile unmistakable on her lips, “Well, I guess I owe you a thank you then.”
She felt him shrug and his voice was easier now as he said quietly, “Eh, I’ll write you an I.O.U for now, I’m in a generous mood.” A slow drag was taken off her cigarette and she let out the breath with a laugh as she nodded and stared across the gleaming parking lot, saying low, “Well, looks like today’s my luck day.”
“Damn right it is” was said with a gleam of teeth through the corner of her eye and then they continued to smoke in silence.
]]>Chapter 8
“Did ya ever think about what kinda power you’d have if you were a superhero?”
His partner’s words caught him off guard and Rock couldn’t help but let a snort of laughter escape from his lips. Glancing at Jensen, his much younger and excitable partner, Rock took a sip of his coffee and then turned back to his newspaper, saying mildly, “Yeah, sometimes…”
He heard the seat creak as the boy sat back, easing himself into a more comfortable position as he chewed noisily on his gum. His voice was breathy, broken with each chew as he nodded and continued to stare out the windshield, saying easily, “I always wanted ta be able to fly, like jumpin off buildings and shit, flyin around and no one could catch me, it was awesome.” Letting out a slight smile Rock shook his head and continued to read his paper, not glancing up as Jensen asked him another question. His voice was expectant as he turned to glance at him and said excitedly, “So…what was yours?”
“Hrm?”
A note of exasperation fell into mix with Jensen’s words and he heard him sigh, as Rock continued to read his newspaper, only half listening. “What would yer powers be, yeah? I mean, like, flying, laser vision or something, what’d you always wanna be able to do?”
Dimly a thought went back to the dream he had had that night and how good it had felt to speed around the world. How he had been the fastest, the best, no one could ever catch him in those dreams. He always woke with a smile on his lips afterward, feeling invigorated, alive. And once he thought about it for a bit, he realized that he had been having dreams about super speed since he was little. And it was no different. He’d always wake up and the first thing he’d say to his Mother that morning over cereal was how awesome his dream had been. And still, to this day, he tended to chat to his wife about it, who simply smiled and said that that would be fun, though he knew she didn’t really care.
So without really thinking about it Rock took another sip of his coffee, put the flimsy Styrofoam cup back into the holder and turned the page to the funnies, saying easily, “Super speed.”
A moment of silence followed and Rock could only guess that Jensen was analyzing his answer. But then the boy was talking again, just as excited as ever.
“Super speed, like the flash? That’d be awesome, being able to run around the world like 30 times in 3.5 seconds. When I was younger my brother let me borrow this book called Infinite Crisis and it was like about all these parallel universes in the DC comics universe and they all kinda got mixed up but there was this awesome part where like a mini super man was going apeshit and killing all these people but then all of a sudden three flashes show up and they’re just running him around the world again and again, it was awesome!”
This time, the smile that came to Richard’s lips was bright. Finally looking up from his newspaper he nodded and said sincerely, “That does sound pretty cool Benny, you’ll have to let me borrow it sometime ok?”
His partners brown eyes were bright as he smiled big and said, “Sure, no problem.” Then with a glance at the clock he let out a groan and started the engine, the squad car coughing to life as he sighed and shifted gears, saying loudly, “Lunch over, back to work, blah, blah, blah” while Richard just laughed, glad to have such an enthusiastic kid as his partner, it definitely made the days a bit more bearable.
]]>Chapter 7
“Yeah, buh ih jus dun’t make sense Tadgh.”
His friend Darrel walked beside him, the smoke from his cigarette wafting away to curl into his hair and brush against his shoulders. He was tall and gangly with strands of dirty blonde hair hanging into dark blue eyes. He always hunched over when he walked and Tadgh knew that it was because he wanted to look “mysterious” have that hair hang down into his eyes and give him a dark and brooding look. Tadgh thought it was bullshit but the guy had had a girlfriend since the time he was 13, so he was obviously doing something right...
Tadgh on the other hand walked slowly, hands shoved deep into his light Autumn jacket. His own blonde hair was swept and gelled away from his face, the boy always having to brush it away just so he could see. It was almost time to get it cut again. Green eyes glanced around the park, noting the passers by. The two Mothers pushing baby carriages around, the old man with his jowly bulldog Winston. Two kids throwing leaves and screeching while their Mom’s watched from a nearby bench and drank coffee. It seemed as if he and Darry were the only teenage boys in the park.
Maybe it was because most boys their age were in school right now. He knew his Mom was gonna kill him if she caught him skipping but right now, he really didn’t care. Things were tense enough at the house with Aunt Esme’s death, he figured she really wouldn’t care if she found out he had skipped one lousy Friday at School. They weren’t doing anything important anyway, no tests, no papers, just a regular Friday. So when he had met up with Darrel on his way to the bus, they had both decided that today should be spent walking and talking, like they sometimes did.
And especially since the dream the other night had Tadgh more than a little startled. He wanted someone to talk to about it. He had explained it to Darrel as best he could, describing all the images he remembered. How Esme had been sitting beside him and then when he went up to the Casket she had been in it, it had turned out that they had been at her funeral, she was the one that had died. And right when he woke up, right when the phone rang, that hole that had formed in the pit of his stomach at the sound of his Dad’s voice, he knew what had happened. His Father hadn’t even had to say anything and Tadgh knew that Aunt Esme was dead.
His dream had been true.
With a slight frown, taking a short drag of his own cigarette Tadgh shrugged and said through a haze of smoke, “I nah ih sounds bahshih Dar buh, is true. I picked up the phone an me Dah saih ta wake me Mum cause Aunt Esme were deah.”
His friend glanced at him, not before grinning at one of the women walking by with the two boys who were done throwing leaves at each other. Blinking Tadgh nudged him with an elbow and muttered, “Doo, some subtlety’d be nice yeah?” Darrel gave a snort and dragged off his cigarette again, tossing his hair away from his eyes with a shake of the head, saying through a mouthful of smoke, “I dun mean ta make ih soun lie yer crazy Pal buh…I mean…well…wha dih Trey say bout ih?”
At the mention of his older Brother, Tadgh frowned. If anyone had been more upset about the death of Aunt Esme, than their Mother, he had a feeling it was Trey. He had never actually seen his brother cry. Well, sure, the scraped knee when he was a kid, but not since he had hit the age of 16. But at the new the tears had welled in his brothers’ eyes and he had locked himself in the bathroom before anyone could talk to him about it. It had been startling, to see someone who was usually so stoic break down so easily.
With a sigh he took the last drag off his cigarette and tossed it aside, letting his breath out in a loud sigh and saying quietly, “Din’t tell ‘im…’e aint doin too gooh, with the whole…Esme thin. They were close.”
Finally Darrel glanced over at Tadgh to study him for a minute with those dark blue eyes. Then with a shrug he struggled with words for a minute and once he spoke, Tadgh frowned slightly. “Nah, I dun’t mean ta sound offensive er wha, buh…I mean, she were jus ya great Aunt…why’s everyone so shih abouh ih anyway?”
Tadgh frowned and lifted a brow at his friend, a look of, “Thanks guy, real nice” crossing over his smooth features but he sighed and began to explain. He glanced down at his nicotine stained hands as he muttered, “Me Mum’s parents died in a car crash when she were real young. So…Esme took ‘er an me Uncle Denny in. Raised em up lie they were ‘er own kihs, cause she neva ‘ad any when she were young. She neva gah married, so…me Mum and Denny were ‘er only chance ta ever really take care a summit. An…she loved ih, she loved them. An when me Mum gah married, she’d babysit me an Trey all the time, we’d gah ta ‘er ‘ouse in Dublin all the time, see each otha evry’ Holiday.” He felt his brows furrow as a wave of emotion threatened to pull at his slowly crumbling barriers. He hadn’t cried yet, he had wanted to be strong for his Mother and his Father, for everyone. He knew that the Funeral was going to be Hell, and he’d probably end up locking himself in the bathroom like Trey had done that first night.
Right now though, he couldn’t cry in front of Darrel. The kid would never let him hear the end of it. Alright, that wasn’t true, he was his friend, he’d understand, but still, Tadgh didn’t feel like embarrassing himself right now. So with a shaky sigh he shrugged his thin shoulders and said quietly, voice strained, “Tha’s ih really…”
From the corner of his eyes he watched as Darrel lit up another cigarette, holding one out to him, which Tadgh gently took, and then spoke as smoke poured from his lips. His eyes narrowed against the sting as he let a breath out through his nose, the smoke trailing from his nostrils like an angry dragon, as he shrugged and nodded, saying easily, “So she were lie yer Grandma, yeah?” Tadgh nodded, eyes closed tight for a moment to push back the sorrow as he lit the cigarette and said quietly, “Yeah…” Darrel seemed to consider that for a minute and then he frowned, saying softly, “I’m sorry Tadgh…tha blows.”
Though his friends eloquence left something to be desired, the boy nodded and said with a slight smile, dragging deep on the cigarette again, “Yeah…yeah ih does” continuing to walk with his friend their pace slow and steady, clouds of smoke trailing behind them all the while.
]]>Chapter 6
There was something on her shoe. A thin black eyebrow lifted as she glanced at the sole of her sneaker, noting the strange patch of white. She sighed at the realization that she had stepped in gum again. She always seemed to step in gum. And then it would get all over her pants when she tucked her foot under her which is how she usually sat. Great, another pair of pants ruined. She’d have to run to the bathroom and check afterward, for now though, she sat silently and waited.
He was doing something on his computer, fingers against his lips, blue eyes staring at the screen, reading. He had asked for just a minute and Kiara gave it to him, sitting silently, watching his back as he studied whatever was on the screen. She had narrowed her eyes, squinting, in attempts to see what he was reading. It looked like some sort of Email so she felt bad for snooping. But her eyesight was terrible and it was highly unlikely that she’d be able to read it from this distance. It gave her something else to do though besides listen to the incessant ticking of the clock.
The volume of that clock seemed to change depending on the mood she was in whenever she entered the office. On days she was doing well, happy, thinking positively, it was barely there, the tick almost inaudible. And on days where she just didn’t feel like talking, wanted to be silent, isolated and upset, the ticking was deafening, each second passing by in the wake of its own sonic boom.
Today the clock was indifferent. She heard it but didn’t focus on it. She wasn’t sure how she was feeling right now. Things weren’t terrible but they could be better. It was one of those in between days where she wasn’t sure if she was happy or sad. She was content; that was probably the best way to describe it. Though she knew that he’d take the word “content” to mean “not sure” and drill her about what she wasn’t sure about in her life.
But she could talk about what she wasn’t sure about in her life for more than hour, much more than hour, she could probably talk about that for days. Time was of the essence though and she figured she might as well make the most of the time they had together. And soon he had turned around in his chair and smiled brightly at her, the laugh lines around his eyes wrinkling as he stretched his feet out and rested them on a chair that sat beside her, making himself comfortable before he spoke.
“So, how ya doin today Kid?”
She met his gaze with a small smile of her own, finding it amusing that he always called her Kid. She liked the nickname; she always connected it with what a big brother would call their younger sister. But she had never had a big brother, she had never had any siblings, so she didn’t know if they actually called their younger siblings kid. But the fact that he called her Kid, it made her smile and blush but also feel young. But she didn’t really mind. He was older than her after all, at least 40 but sometimes he acted 20 years younger and that’s why she liked him so much. He understood her, could get down on her level and really understand things. She was sure that it was because he had, of course, been in his early 20’s before and he had gone through his own period of growing up and difficulty with life etc. But it was still comforting, that someone just seemed to understand her so well.
Her friends always said he was nice to her because he was getting paid to be. But she never liked to believe that. It was probably true but it was more comforting to think that he actually understood her and really wanted to help her. She just shrugged off her friend’s words and let herself believe that they were just pessimistic, wanting to drag her down further than she already was. She knew she was being silly but, she felt like she had a friend in Dr. Tobias Williams and enjoyed their sessions together, always leaving feeling peaceful and ready to face the world.
With a smile she shrugged and tugged one foot under her, shifting in the seat to make herself more comfortable as she glanced away from him and said easily, “Ok, for the most part.” For some reason, maybe just because she found him attractive, she had trouble looking into his eyes. She also knew that was supposed to be a sign that you were lying, or you weren’t confident or something else like that. But she just had trouble looking at him. It made her feel stupid and bumbling and tongue tied like a silly teenager with a crush on a teacher or something. He had explained that to her before, it was called transference and it happened quite often. When people thought they were in love with their therapists, but it was more that they were in love with what the therapists did for them. They helped them, they listened, they let them figure out their problems and just gave slight pushes when needed and words of comfort when sought.
She was pretty sure that’s what it was and besides, she had always been prone to having crushes on older men, teachers and such, she just liked to think that it was because all the boys her age were stupid, immature and selfish. Which was basically true. It was impossible to find a date with a nice boy, at least that’s what she kept telling herself. She didn’t really actively look for boyfriends, too tired of being rejected and always having her friends being picked over her.
But she didn’t want to talk about relationships today, those were always tiring, emotional sessions and she left feeling drained and miserable. Today, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to talk about. But Dr. Williams was always good about figuring out what subjects were on her mind. So with that bright smile again he shrugged his shoulders and lifted thin blonde eyebrows as he said, “For the most part…so something’s not entirely ok?”
Frowning slightly at her choice of words, realizing that she had made it seem like something was bothering her, she took a minute to think her words over. Was something bothering her? Things at home were alright, quiet, but alright. Work was…work. She was still looking for something permanent; she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life at Starbucks as a Barista. Her friends were, her friends. She had found herself getting more easily annoyed with them recently .She had taken to staying at home more often, even on the weekends. Earlier in the year she’d be out every Saturday night, wasting money, drinking and having a good time. Now though, even the idea of spending time with her friends, well one girl in particular, Victoria, sent shivers down her spine. The girl was as annoying as they came.
Kiara wasn’t sure if she was just being a bitch and judging the girl or something but she just couldn’t stand the thought of her recently. Maybe she should talk about her today? She just wasn’t sure. Her lips continued to frown, teeth biting gently at her bottom lip as she let out a breath and shook her head, voice low, distant, still thinking.
“Well, I mean, things are kinda the same. Family’s family, friends are…friends. Work’s work. Nothing much changes really. You know me; I don’t lead a very exciting life.” She smiled at her own self-deprecating words, knowing they were true and Dr. Williams smiled slightly as well, nodding his head in agreement. He knew everything about her so he knew that most nights after work she simply went home, slept, read, and watched TV. Her life was routine, day by day and only every now and again would she dare break it. He stretched his arms behind his head and then settled himself in his chair again, netting his fingers together and lifting his brows, saying with an easy shrug, “Alright, so what do you want to talk about today? Let’s try and make your life a little more exciting huh?”
Blinking she considered his words for a moment. They had had sessions like this before; he gave her advice, ideas how to have more fun. How to meet new people, cool places to go with her friends but she didn’t always listen. Sometimes she’d step out of her bubble and do something unexpected, like that random day trip to Maine she had taken with her friend a couple weeks ago. It hadn’t been anything life changing but it had been nice to spend hours on the road and walk around somewhere new and different.
With a nod she grinned and said quietly, “Sure…can’t hurt to try.”
]]>Chapter 5
Tadgh
The scent of flowers was heavy in the quiet, muffled air. He saw them as he walked, lining every wall, spilling around corners, seeming to claim chairs for themselves. He felt his brother beside him, walking slowly, and keeping pace, both of their heads hung low, quiet. It was the same as it had always been, silent and tense, the sense of peace attempted to be recreated failing and failing miserably. Black dresses and black blazers, white hair visible under black hats. There were flowers of all colors, but mostly white, the sharp, stinging scent of lilies smothering in his nostrils.
He moved as if he were floating, each step light, unfelt. Until slowly he sat, turning his head expecting to see Trey’s face but instead saw Aunt Esme, her lips pale and smiling. She looked healthy, content as she nodded at him and gave his knee a pat. He noted the veins, sharp blue lines under paper thin skin. The freckles, the thin white hair on her arms, a soft pearl bracelet loose about her bone thin wrist. And dangling from her fingertips was a simple black rosary, the crucifix tapping lightly against his leg. He saw also that her nails were painted, a French manicure. She always loved her French manicures.
The old woman gave his knee another squeeze and a smile, the chair creaking stubbornly as he stood. Again, the light, fleeting footsteps and he stood at the front of the hall, the kneeler covered in plush red velvet. A thin white hand reached forward to rest on the edge of the casket, smiling sadly at the old woman who lay within. Her skin was still pale, the same blue veins sharp and clear. That pearl bracelet lay stark against the simple black dress she wore. And around her hands the same black rosary lay, twisted tight around her fingers but still unable to cover the perfect French manicure that she had, even in death.
A slow glance turned his head to see that Aunt Esme no longer sat in the chair where she had been. She was no longer smiling at him from afar. But she was with him now, peaceful, at rest in the simple, sleek casket set before his feet. Another soft smile and he let fingertips touch against his forehead, his shoulders, making the signs of the cross as he knelt and said his last words to his Great Aunt, wishing her peace for eternity in Heaven.
His leg twitched and he breathed in deep, suddenly awake. A mumbled groan broke in his chest and he sighed, simply laying still, not bothering to move.
There was something on the TV but he had stopped paying attention a long time ago. It was late, really late but he didn’t feel like going up to bed. He had just slumped on the couch, telling himself he’d head upstairs in a few minutes but his body was having none of it. His long legs were thrown about, one resting atop a cushion, the other propped up on the arm of the couch. A pale hand thrown over his eyes, the other tucked comfortably behind his head and his mouth hung open slightly as the sounds of the TV muttered through his mind.
Somewhere a door creaked and he twitched slightly again, moving to flop over onto his side, pulling the pillow out from under his head and pushing it against his ear. His breathing was heavy as the door creaked again; closing this time followed by footsteps treading lightly down the hallway. They were headed towards him and with a heavy sigh he opened his eyes but didn’t move the pillow away from his face. The footsteps stopped and he heard breathing, knowing it was his older brother Trey just getting home.
The smell of pot hung heavy on the air and Tadgh cleared his throat, listening as the older boy spoke in a rough whisper.
“Ey…Mum up?”
“Nah…”
“Dah gone?”
“Yeah…”
His words were muffled as he answered his brother’s questions automatically. It was the same basically every weekend. Tadgh didn’t really care what his brother did, as long as he got home safely and before the sun rose. Though out of habit it seemed, Trey always checked in with Tadgh to see if his parents were around. Their Father worked nights, their Mother went to bed by 2 AM at the latest. It was smooth sailing from there.
He listened as Trey stood there for a moment still, Tadgh moving the pillow the slightest inch to glance at his brother with lifted brow. But he was just watching the flickering images on TV. It was some sort of Anime, Tadgh had no idea what about and he wasn’t really interested. Tossing the pillow aside he sat up and rubbed at his eyes, yawning as he glanced at his brother and started to speak, “’Ow were ih…ave fu…” but his words were cut off by the sharp ringing of the telephone.
Blinking sharply both boys turned to look at the phone at the same time. Who would call at this hour? Instantly the cold feeling of dread spread through his chest but Tadgh tried to swallow it down. With a frown the younger glanced at the older, who simply shrugged and soon Tadgh had the phone in his hand and pressed to his ear. It was his Father on the other end, his voice heavy, thick, and the hint of tears painfully obvious.
“Tadgh…wake yer Motha…Aunt Esme’s dead.”
]]>Chapter 4
Father Mulkerrin
The grass was soft and warm beneath his fingertips, the late afternoon sunlight painting the sky a vivid picture of orange and red. Somewhere far off there was the sound of waves crashing, echoing, gentle, ever present. It was a soothing sound and the warm summer air buzzing around him made him sleepy and peaceful. With a smile he turned to the boy sitting on the grass beside him, staring into his own reflection.
It was his twin, Paul looking back at him, those blue eyes bright, that grin serene as well, both of them just drinking in the late Summer air. Quiet and relaxed as the day drew to a close and time pressed ever forward in its slow, languid way. With a sigh of contentment Sam moved to lie back on the cool green grass and stare up at the fading light.
The sky changed to that of an ornate and beautifully carved altar at a Church. A careful glance around and he saw his family, his Father looking tired, his Sister too young to understand what had happened and most heartbreaking of all, his Mother hunched over the casket, her sobs the only sound in the heavy, silent room. No one else moved, frozen to their seats, unaware, unknowing. Acting as if they weren't even sure why they were here. But Sam simply made his way over to his Mother to wrap strong arms around her thin, trembling shoulders and pull her close.
Her tear stained face buried into his chest and he simply held her. For some reason, though he knew it was a tragedy, Sam felt at peace. He felt the sorrow and the grief weighing heavy on his heart but at the same time he understood. It had been Paul's time. He was young, the car accident had been terrible but he had not suffered, death had come instantly and God had taken him up to Heaven.
Somehow Sam just knew that and was comforted by the thought. As he thought of how peaceful his Brother was now in eternal sleep, of how beautiful and fulfilled he must feel being in the presence of the Lord, Samuel smiled. He held his mother tight and he smiled, happy for his Brother, glad that he had finally found peace. And at first, he didn't notice how his Mother's shoulders had stopped trembling. He didn't notice how she was now looking up at him, her smile tear stained but bright. Only when he glanced down did he realize how serene and content she looked.
With a shaking breath she reached fingers up to rest them on his cheek, echoing Sam's thoughts as she said softly, "He's happy now, he's happy in Heaven, he's at peace."
Outside a car door slammed and he twitched, the dream shattered and consciousness quickly taking its place. Blue eyes opened slowly to stare in confusion at his darkened room. The more he blinked the more the room came into focus and he remembered where he was. A soft breath was released as he rolled over onto his side to glance at the clock. It was 6 AM. He would have to be up soon for the morning services. The dream hadn't disturbed him, though he found himself thinking about it as he showered, ate and prepared for the day.
He often dreamt of his twin Paul who had died so young. And in his dreams he often found himself at peace, content with the situation, though it had been tragic and life changing at the time. He hadn't even thought about entering the Seminary then. They had been only teenagers and Sam could remember how deep his grief had run. How long it had taken him to really accept the fact that his Brother was gone and wasn't coming back. His anger with God had been fierce. And though he eventually made peace and decided that the best course of action for his life would be to become a Priest, the memory of his Brother's death was still sore and he knew the wound would never fully heal.
Why he dreamed of him so often and why he always felt so peaceful and calm during such dreams was a mystery to him. And though Father Samuel Mulkerrin was usually a man of deep thought and silent contemplation, this morning, he was too tired to give his subconscious anymore than a passing glance. He would mull over it later, when the services were done and he was allowed a little free time. For now though, he gave himself one more glance in the mirror, fixed the simple white collar around his neck and headed out of the rectory and across the way to the Church, the brisk Autumn air ruffling his hair as he walked.
]]>Chapter 3
Rock
The world flew by in a blur of colors and sounds. Every second was 100 miles traveled, stopping only to grin at his friends and then speed off again. He knew exactly where he was going, exactly where every step would take him. He never got lost, never tripped, never crashed; nothing could ever stop him when he ran. Somehow through the blur the world had become he could navigate his way and never get hurt. It was a second sense; somehow knowing what would be around every corner, what happened second before it actually did.
He slowed his pace, sliding to a stop, barely feeling the burn in his legs. With a wide grin he winked at his friends who stood clustered around the car sipping coffee, smoking, talking and best of all, laughing. They were always amazed by his ability, by his utter speed. They were impressed, awed but he could tell some of them were jealous. They wanted to move as fast as he could. But he knew they couldn’t. It was something only he could do, it set him apart from the crowd, made him special and unique and he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it.
Dimly he heard Jameson say something about the car and he knew they wanted to race him. It always ended like this, he raced around the world a couple of times and then they challenged him to a race around the busy streets of New York City. It was dangerous but his friends were good at avoiding obstacles on the road, only he was better. He could dart in and out between cars in seconds, a mere blur to the human eye.
With a grin he simply nodded, knowing it was useless to talk. His friends gathered into the cruiser, the engine revved and dimly he watched as the tires squealed, burning rubber, smoking as they peeled out onto the street. He was rushing by then, bare seconds having passed and already he was circling around Times Square for the third time, his friends not even having gotten through the second red light.
Stopping for a moment to simply catch his breath, though he was barely even sweating Richard “Rock” Blake glanced up at the cars and buildings stretching to eternity in the middle of Times Square. He watched as his breath steamed off into the cold October air, watching as the world traveled by, at a snails pace to him. Cabs honked lazily at each other, bikers wove in and out of traffic, people jay walked but he didn’t care. The world moved at its normal pace and Rock felt like he saw everything crystal clear, each movement slow, barely moving.
The scream of tires turned his head and he watched in slow motion as his friends in the cruiser began to get closer. That same grin that had never faded from his lips grew as he readied himself but then caught something out of the corner of his eye. A boy, a teenager, young, scared but desperate was running down the street, sprinting fast in his own mind but barely moving to Rock. He barreled into a woman, grabbing tight to her purse and wrenching the small leather bag off the woman’s shoulder as he roughly knocked her to the ground.
Her scream tore through the air to echo in Rock’s mind and he clenched his teeth, already moving. The boy was on the ground with a split lip and a cry before a second had even passed. The purse skittered across the ground and Rock leaned down to pick it up, at the same time pulling the boy to his feet with a tight grip to the back of his jacket. The purse hung from his fingertips, held out to the woman with a bright smile.
She gave Richard a look of pure relief and took her purse with both hands, holding it close to her, saying brightly, “Thank you so much Officer.” And if Rock had been wearing a hat, he would’ve tipped it to her, his smile all teeth as he nodded and said easily, “Just doing my job Mam.” He felt as if he should be walking into the sunset like a true hero but they were still in gray and gloomy NYC. He didn’t let that bother him though as he nodded once more to the woman, turned around and dragged the boy forward. They stepped towards the cruiser that was just pulling up to the curb, his friends finally having caught up.
He awoke with a smile on his lips and a deep breath drawn in through his nose, laughing at himself. Even his dreams were corny, he watched too many Westerns. He should start wearing a cowboy hat. With the smile still on his lips he turned to the side and yawned, reaching strong arms out to wrap around his wife’s waist and pull her close.
The sheets were soft and light against his skin, her body warm against his and he just lay there for a moment, cheek against her shoulder, eyes shut, just breathing. Then opening his eyes to mere slits he glanced at the clock glowing across the room and saw that he had woken up at the same time he always did, 5:30 AM, on the dot. Giving his wife a quick kiss to her bare arm he quickly climbed out of bed and headed for the shower.
Once he was dressed, bundled in sweats and a hat, preparing himself for the chill October air that he knew waited outside, he ran quietly down the stairs and to the kitchen. Chester, his five year old Boxer gave a tired yawn but was already on his feet and dancing excitedly even as Rock grabbed his leash and hooked it onto his harness. The house still quiet with his sleeping family, he opened the door and headed out for his morning run with Chester eagerly pulling him along.
]]>Chapter 2
Jenny
He was sitting at her feet staring at her, head tipped to the side, eyes curious. Her legs were stretched out, ankles crossed, feet resting on the ottoman at the end of the seat. A book was open, her usual stance at night. The TV flickered pictures across the walls, the only sound in the small, one bedroom apartment. Brown eyes glanced up to watch the pictures, noting an Airedale with a big grin on its face flash by on the screen, then a cat cleaning its paws, then a goldfish swimming around in its bowl, looking bored.
Her eyes went back to her book, but her concentration was soon taken away as she noticed he was moving at her feet. Glancing away from the words on the page, she lifted an eyebrow and watched him carefully. Those big brown eyes were staring at her, black, jowly lips pulled down into that ever present frown. With a small smile she reached forward to scratch her pet Pug, Tock, on the head but stopped as those lips moved and he spoke.
“Ya know, the Butler did it.”
Blinking, she pulled her hand away and sat back, saying easily, “Do you find it fun to ruin every book I read?”
“Yes…”
Grinning at the Pug at her feet she shook her head and nudged him with her foot. He snorted and stretched as she picked up her book and continued to read, the room falling into the dim noise of the TV once more. After a few minutes she saw a flash of movement at her feet and lowered her book once more to see where Tock was going. But to her surprise a small gray cat was sitting there, watching her expectantly. Turning to glance at Tock she gestured towards the feline with her book and said distractedly, “Who’s that?”
“I’m Mittens…the neighbor’s cat.”
She watched as Tock’s lips spread into what could only be a Dog’s equivalent of a smile as he let out a bark of laughter and Jenny couldn’t help but join in. Mittens, it seemed like half the population of Cats in the world was named Mittens, how original. The Cat’s yellow eyes narrowed slightly as it gave a front paw a fleeting lick and let out a rumbling meow saying lightly, “My owner’s a 6 year old, give her a break.”
Holding back a bit of laughter again Jenny grinned and picked up her book once more, saying, “Sorry…” An easy silence drifted through the room as the three of them sat together, until Jenny glanced away from the page once more and spoke to the cat, asking lightly “So what are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
The voice that spoke now was different, neither Tock nor Mitten’s and her eyes flicked up to see a rather large crow perched on top of the TV. The image on the screen had stopped to be the four of them in the room, zeroing in on Jenny’s confused face. Her eyes moved away from the TV as she sighed with annoyance and said to the Crow, “Not really…no.”
The black bird gave a croak and flapped its wings noisily for a minute before taking flight to land on the arm of the chair. Jenny, for her part, tried hard not to flinch as the bird walked up the arm of the chair to stare at her with its beady black eyes. With another croak it settled its wings carefully and said in that same, sharp voice, “We’re here to help you.”
That got her attention and she put her book down, suddenly quite interesting in the conversation. Pursing her lips together she lifted a brow and leaned forward, towards the Crow, saying quietly “Oh…really?” Trying hard not to sound too intrigued she moved to rest a foot on her knee and put her hands on her leg, glancing at the three animals in the room, saying casually, “Help me with what?”
A new voice joined the crowd and Jenny looked up quickly to see a large but friendly German Shepard lying comfortably on the floor. Its pink tongue lolled from its long snout, big brown eyes staring right at her, Jenny surprised to find herself fighting back tears. It was Rhine, the family Dog when she was little. But he had been hit by a car all those years ago. He couldn’t be here. Though his words left her silent, confused as he stared right at her and said quietly but seriously, “With this…”
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
An aggravated cry tore from her lips as she snapped awake. Big brown eyes opened to stare at the dark ceiling above her head. Fingers snapped out to slam her palm against the alarm clock, effectively hurling it to the floor. She waited for the comforting sound of cracking plastic but alas, none came. She was pretty sure the machine was made of titanium, since every time she tried to break it in her morning rage, it still persevered.
At least it had stopped beeping.
With a mumbled groan Jenny Denair sat up in bed and wiped fiercely at her eyes, ridding them of sleep and the tears that still stung them. That dream had been much more vivid than some of the others she had been having recently. And the sight of Rhine always upset her, even in sleep. Still, it had just been a dream. But now she was awake and it was already 5:30 AM, time to get up and head to work.
The alarm clock was kicked aside as covers were tossed away and soon the shower was running, warm water washing over her, helping to cleanse her body of any remaining grogginess. Minutes later she watched herself dress in the mirror, pulling on a simple black skirt, white button down and a tight blazer, quickly stepping in and fastening her black, strappy heels. A shake of her head sent blow dried brown curls tumbling across her shoulders and she gave her reflection a smile as she headed out of her small bedroom and into the next room where the kitchen and living room ran together.
Tock was sitting on the ottoman of the chair in her dream, watching her with tired but expectant eyes. She knew that look, sure, he had only been awake for about two seconds but his eyes still said, “What in the world took you so long, I’m hungry, feed me now.” But when wasn’t the Dog hungry?
With a sigh and a smile she walked over to the Dog and gave him a pat on the head. The Pug whined and sniffed at her hand as he hopped off the ottoman and followed her to the kitchen. Kibble tumbled into the bowl with little metallic clinks and Jenny crouched beside the Dog, petting his fur distractedly as she thought for a minute. She always had dreams like that, where he was talking to her. But what had been with the end of this one?
The Crow had said they were there to help her and then Rhine had said, “With this.” What did that even mean, with this? It was early and she was far too tired to really think about it since it made no comprehensible sense as far as she was concerned. With another sigh she gave Tock a loving scratch behind the ears and then kissed him goodbye saying quietly, “If ya figure out what “with this” means, make sure to tell me when I get home.”
The Dog snuffled sharply as it looked up from its food bowl and the look he gave her was so serious it was almost startling. Jenny stood there for a minute, half expecting the small Dog to talk, to tell her that he’d be sure to do that. But then the moment passed and she laughed it off, muttering, “Losin my mind” before kissing the dog once more and saying softly, “Bye baby” before grabbing her purse and rushing out the door.
]]>Chapter 1
Kiara
The wind whispered past, blowing gently against her short black hair. She didn’t know how she got onto this rooftop or why. She just knew that she was here and for some reason soon, she would have to jump. To whatever end, to whatever reason, she wasn’t sure. But there was that deep feeling, the murmur in her mind, that it was what she had to do.
Dark brown eyes glanced across the grim sky, noting the storm clouds, the streaks of lightening flickering off in the distance but she wasn’t afraid. She just knew that when she jumped, everything would be alright, she would be safe. Brown eyes stared ahead, blinking slowly, studying the blank emptiness around her. Though she stood on the rooftop of a building, there was nothing else, just this building, her and an endless stretch of sky. Sneakers slid forward, scratching softly against the loose rocks scattered about as she stepped closer to the edge. She daren’t look down for fear of losing her nerve.
Another flicker of lightening and a crash of thunder made her flinch but still, her face was serene, peaceful as she stared ahead at the ever darkening sky. Again the wind blew past but she barely felt it. Though it seemed to whisper in her ear that now was the time, if she didn’t do it now, she would miss her chance.
One last glance was given to the empty air, feeling the solid roof beneath her and for a split second being afraid of falling, of death, of eternal darkness. But again that breath of wind that whispered to her, to run, to jump, to fly and she was moving. Her legs pumped as she ran, seeming to move in slow motion as the edge of the roof came closer and closer, but there was no fear, she knew that she was safe.
A small jump, her foot stood solid on the edge of the roof for an instant and then the air was rushing past her in a cold, vibrant wave. There was no stomach dropping horror of plummeting, there was a simple smile as she opened her eyes, saw the world around her and then shot forward into the vast emptiness, flying free as a bird.
Vrrr…Vrrr…Vrrr
A tired groan muttered past her lips as she flopped over onto her other side. Whatever that noise was, she wasn’t sure why it fit into her dream but, it was a dream after all, very hard to explain them away.
Vrrr…Vrrr…Vrrr
Again the noise, more insistent this time but she continued to do the dance of turning from side to side and burying her face in her pillow. She wasn’t going to wake up; she didn’t want this dream to end. But then the vrrr joined in a deafening duet with the ring tone of her cell phone, the tone bright, sunny, and annoying and its one purpose was to drag her from the depths of sleep. It did its job well.
She sat up and grabbed the offensive phone only to hit the snooze button and toss it back onto her dresser. With a tired groan she allowed herself to flop back onto her pillows and burrow deeper into her fleece sheets and big, warm comforter. But now hers wasn’t the only alarm blaring. There were others waking up as well. The incessant, monotonous beep of her Aunt's clock echoed through the thin walls and she could hear her Uncle climbing the stairs to get in the shower first since he left the earliest.
Though she wanted to just let herself fall back to sleep, she was tired enough that it would be easy, she knew that she couldn’t. It was a Wednesday, a stereotypical, work a day Wednesday, one of the worst days of the week. Her eyes threatened to close and she sighed letting herself revel in the warmth of her bed for one last moment before her phone started singing again.
Sleep heavy fingers fumbled with the black electronic device before she shut the alarm off completely and forced herself to sit up. Bleary brown eyes stared down at the floor for a long moment, her mind heavy and fogged. One blink, two, three later she yawned and managed to stretch herself to stand and shuffle over to her dresser. She heard the water snap on in the bathroom and knew that after her Father showered her Mother would go and then she’d be last. It gave her time to head downstairs to eat a quick breakfast. Maybe that would help wake her up.
One last fleeting glance was given to her nice, warm bed, wishing for the umpteenth time that she could just sleep and fall back into that dream. She could just spend the day in her own head, flying around with nothing to worry about. But nope, not today, reality called and she was an impatient mistress. So with another weary sigh Kiara Small tossed some clothes onto her bed, shut the dresser drawer and shuffled over to her door and down the hallway, hoping that today would at least go by quickly.
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