Roni’s eyes fluttered open. She lay in the lumpy guest bed of the nuns’ dorm. A tall, black man stood over her. He held a gnarled cane parallel to her body in his right hand while his left hand prescribed a series of motions in the air. Elliot.
She grinned, then chuckled. “Did you save my life again?”
“Be quiet,” he said with his deep, precise voice. “You are well, but you should take it easy for the rest of the day.”
Propping up on her elbows, she winced at the soreness. Better the sensation of bruising rather than the hot piercing of broken ribs cutting her apart from the inside.
Elliot snapped his fingers at her. “I told you to take it easy and the first thing you do is try to sit up. You are as stubborn as your grandmother.”
“I can’t let some broken bones stop me right now.”
“You had a collapsed lung, too.”
“I did?”
From the doorway, Sully stood with his arms crossed. “Probably a concussion, on top of that. But by all means, ignore Elliot and go get yourself hurt again.”
Roni pushed herself to a fully upright position. Elliot huffed, but he stepped back and leaned on his cane. Sully’s head made a slow scan as he took in the meager private room.
“Maybe we should leave you here,” he said. “Perhaps a year or two stuck in the Abbey might straighten you out.”
“You’re not the first to suggest that one.”
“I wonder why that might be?”
Roni’s face wrinkled tight. “You think I wanted any of this to happen?”
“I think you lack the common decency to respect those who stick their necks out for you. Your grandmother did not want you to go on this trip. She said you weren’t ready. I vouched for you. I used up some of my capital as a leader so that you would be sent on this trip. And look what you did.”
As all of the events flooded back to her, Roni turned her apprehensive eyes upon Elliot. He put out a reassuring hand. “Everybody is okay,” he said. “The rift is not stabilized, but we were able to create a temporary method of controlling it.”
“Temporary, at best,” Sully said. “Do you have any idea how difficult that was? I had to use more of my strength than I’ve done in years just to keep those pedestals in place. Elliot worked a shield to keep the building from collapsing upon us. And your dear Gram worked tirelessly to chain together what little we could. Many of the books were damaged. Some beyond our ability to repair from here. Some might never be useable again.”
Pressing his hand harder in comfort, Elliot said, “Once we have the full complement of books repaired or created, all will be well. Until then, the rift will have to be carefully monitored.”
“And Gram?” Roni asked.
“She is fine.”
With a disgusted snort, Sully said, “She is far from fine. Poor woman has had to lose her daughter for a second time.”
Roni’s eyes welled up. “Then ... Maria’s gone?”
“I’m afraid so,” Elliot said, his brow wrinkling into numerous folds.
“Maria died years ago in a car accident,” Sully said. He gritted his teeth tight enough to turn his jaw as white as the tufts of hair ringing his bald head. “That thing in the rift was no more than a memory of Gram’s daughter. And it was never your mother. You get that straight. That little afterimage of a girl never grew up to be an adult, never fell in love, never got married, never spent an intimate night creating you, never gave birth to you, never —”
“I get it. You don’t have to be a prick about it.”
“Looking at the mess around here, I think I do.”
Elliot sliced his hand through the air between Roni and Sully. “That is quite enough from both of you.”
Plunking her elbows onto her knees, Roni lowered her head into her hands. Fighting with Sully would not solve anything. It certainly would not bring back Maria. Roni had been so close, had the girl in her arms, but now — Maria was most likely lost in another universe. Again.
Roni’s head perked up at a soft high-pitched sound. The soft mewing of a cat. Faint and distant. Why would she hear that? She could not recall having seen any cats or evidence of cats around the Abbey property. And she was fairly certain it would be difficult for a cat to wander onto the property — being so far from any other homes or towns.
It came again. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Elliot asked.
“Sully?”
“I only hear you making excuses for your bad behavior.”
“Do not start again,” Elliot said. He stepped closer to Sully and lowered his head to speak softly — though Roni could hear them quite clearly. “It is evident that she feels bad enough about what has happened. You’ve done your job in reprimanding her and asserting your authority. There is no need to keep opening the wound.”
Sully did not look convinced. “Until that rift is stabilized, things are not okay here. And until we can figure out what Sister Ashley’s presence within the rift will do, we have no idea if that stability is even possible. Because let’s face it — that universe is not like some mass expanse of space with planets and stars. At least, that’s not the sense I’ve got from it. It acts more like a living being of its own.”
Roni got to her feet. “Maria is not in the rift anymore, but she fell in that book. Shouldn’t we go get her?”
“One crisis at a time,” Sully said.
“But it’d be easy. We could do what we did with Darin. You build a golem, have it go in there, and bring her back.”
Sully pushed off the doorjamb and straightened as much as his old back would allow. His pale skin reddened as his face tightened. “You think it’s that easy to make a huge golem that can withstand the forces of an entire universe? You think it was that simple last time for Elliot to use his abilities to even locate Darin? And for that matter, the only reason we could lure Darin to join with the golem — which didn’t really happen the way we expected anyway — was because we had an item personal to him. Do we have an item personal to the little girl version of Maria? The only thing I can think of is Gram herself. Do you want to stick Gram inside of a golem and throw her into another universe?”
Roni cringed as she sat back on the edge of the bed. “I’m just trying to help think through this.”
“You need to stop trying to help and start to learn by listening first. Once you’ve got the proper knowledge of what you’re supposed to be doing, then you can help.”
Elliot banged his cane on the floor. “We are not going to sit here and rehash these arguments over and over. It only helps our enemies. Now Sully, you must acknowledge that Roni is a novice and that perhaps you did make a mistake in sending her here. That was your fault. And you must own the repercussions of that choice.” Sully started to argue but Elliot smacked his cane against Sully’s shoulder. Before Roni could snicker, Elliot faced her. “You must accept that we know more than you. You do not like authority of any kind, and we understand that. You did not like it when Gram was in charge and you’re now going to be upset with Sully because he is in charge. I have no doubt that if I were in charge, you would be angry with me as well. But at least admit that your anger, your real anger, is because you know you screwed up. You went against the orders and expectations that were given to you in some hope of being the hero and acting flashy or whatever was in your head. And because of that, we are in a dangerous situation.”
Roni punched the side of the bed. “Maria is partly my mother. How was I supposed to let that go? Would you have ignored her if it was your mother?”
“If doing so meant hurting my living grandmother, the one who raised and cared for me, then perhaps I would. At the very least, I would have given her more consideration than you did. And I would’ve talked with my grandmother, asked her to help me understand why we shouldn’t go help that sliver of my mother floating in another universe. Help me understand the kind of pain she may have endured seeing her daughter’s double in that rift. Just plain understand. Own your mistakes, Roni. And you too, Sully.”
Elliot’s gaze drifted from one to the other before he walked out of the room shaking his head. Sully let Elliot pass, then leveled a hard glare at Roni. She braced herself for another tirade, but instead, he merely muttered as he turned away. There were a lot of good things to be said about Elliot’s ability to heal, but Roni decided that this time around, she would have benefited from a little sympathy for her wounds, instead.
Alone in the room, she sat with her thoughts in the silence surrounding her. But then she heard that mewing again. Only this time it sounded louder — a tiny fraction but enough that she no longer thought the sound belonged to a cat. It was more than a simple meow. Rather, it had a longer flow to it like an ambulance siren far in the distance — but not a European ambulance. An American one — with its stretched-out tone rising and falling like a leaf floating on a wave.
Coupled to the sound, came the smell — a sickly-sweet aroma like cotton candy. Roni closed her eyes, attempting to dull all her senses but that of smell. She inhaled slowly, letting the aroma drift through her nose and down her throat. It was more than sugar. She smelled some type of soap.
Sugar. And soap. Like a little girl.
Roni’s knee bounced, and she gripped the edge of the bed tight. She listened intently to the silence of the room. Feeling the rush of blood pumping through her head, she opened her mouth and with a cracking voice said, “Maria?”
She waited for a response but none came. Roni had never believed in ghosts, but then again, she had believed in there being only one universe. With the latter clearly wrong, perhaps the former could be true.
“Maria?” A little stronger this time.
Roni’s shoulders convulsed back, slamming the shoulder blades close to each other. Her head arched back. Like a mass of muscle spasms, it happened again. But nothing had struck her. Nobody had assaulted her. She had experienced a whack against her spine, but from the inside.
When that thought voiced in her head, her pulse shot up as if she had sprinted a hundred-meter dash. Sweat beaded across her skin. Her head throbbed and she felt nauseous.
She needed air. Stumbling to her feet, she made her way into the main part of the dorm. Elliot stood by the front door.
He glanced over at her and his face registered his concern. “You need to get back in bed.”
“I need air.”
Hobbling over on his cane, he said, “Then I will escort you.”
“Leave me alone.”
He tried to take her arm, but she wrenched it away. The sudden movement caused her to trip forward. Thankfully, she managed to stay upright. Refusing to look back — she did not want to see Elliot’s pitying concern — she pushed on outside.
It was still dark. How was that possible? She glanced at her watch — 9:03 pm. She had been knocked out for a full day. More lost time. At least, she had the cool, fresh air to fill her lungs.
And it did feel good. But her heart still raced, her head still ached, and her skin still chilled. Is this a panic attack?
Squatting, she let her head hang and focused on breathing. After about a minute, she thought she might be feeling better. She rose, stretched her arms, and looked over to see the church.
Gram would be in there. No doubt about it. Roni considered following Elliot’s advice and returning to bed. She did not want to talk with Sully, and she certainly did not want to face Gram.
But being a future leader of the Parallel Society meant facing the hard and difficult head on. She could think of nothing more difficult at the moment than dealing with Gram. And if she indeed had suffered a panic attack, then clearly Gram was at the heart of it. Better to get that taking care of before dealing with the trouble between universes.
Roni entered the church.
While the Abbey only served a handful of cultish nuns, it had been built with a larger audience in mind. Like many of the cathedrals in Ireland — Gothic architecture intended to praise the Lord through artistry and design — it’s cavernous space overwhelmed and mystified the senses. As Roni shuffled down the center aisle of the nave, she had a moment of awe at the detailed beauty found in the grand architecture. Long columns led up to pointed arches, to windowed clearstory, to ribbed vaulting which kept the high ceiling from collapsing. At the apse of the Cathedral, an enormous stained-glass window depicting the Virgin Mary surrounded by rolling hills and beautiful animals created an intoxicating view. In front of it, a life-sized wooden carving of Jesus on the cross gazed down at the parishioners. Kneeling in the front pew, Gram had her fingers laced, her elbows leaning forward on the railing, and her head lowered in prayer.
Roni knelt next to her grandmother. She heard distant cries — more lost animals or something coming from inside? — but kept her head bowed out of respect for her grandmother’s beliefs. At length, Gram put out her hand and held the top of Roni’s.
“It’s okay,” Gram said.
Of all the things Gram could have uttered, all the ways she could have vented her anger, this pierced Roni’s healed chest and drove straight through to her heart. Her head dropped to the wood railing, and she let her tears fall. “I’m so sorry. I only wanted to help you. Help her.”
“That’s why you are going to be very good at this job. One day.”
Sniffling, Roni rubbed the tears from her eyes. “Sully doesn’t think so.”
“Of course he does. He’s just angry at himself for making a poor decision and is angry because he wants to protect me. He thinks he’s failed. That’s part of the job being leader.”
Roni gazed up at the statue of Jesus. Her top lip curled.
“Don’t be like that,” Gram said.
“What did I do?”
“Don’t come in here and look upon the Church with such disdain.”
“I wasn’t. Honest. I was thinking that it must’ve been hard for him. He’s like Maria — stuck between worlds. Right? He was a mortal man but also a heavenly being.”
“I suppose.”
“I wonder — you think when people talk about feeling his presence, that they really physically feel something?”
“Of course.”
“Well, we still have the book that Maria was pulled into. Maybe we can find a way to feel her presence. To bring her back.”
Roni’s skin tightened. Another panic attack?
“Dear, it’s a sweet thought, but no. I have finally, truly lost my daughter.”
Roni’s body shuddered. Straight to the bone. The muscles on the back of her neck contracted. As if Maria had screamed the word No! and it threatened to rip Roni to pieces.
With a production of grunts and groans, Gram rose to her feet and settled back on the pew bench. “Sit with me.”
Roni did not move at first. She feared her legs would not support her. She needed time alone to consider what had happened to her — continued to happen — but the expectant look on Gram’s face meant any other plans had to be postponed. With grunts and groans of her own, she managed to get to the bench.
Gram folded her hands across her large bosom and offered Roni a genuine smile. “I know you meant well. I really do. But I want you to listen closely. I’m going to tell you a story about your mother, back when she was only nine years old, back before she ever came to this place.”
The mixed odor of sugar and soap returned to fill the air. Roni had to take shallow breaths in order not to choke.
Gram said, “Your mother was a sweet, wonderful little girl. But she always had that wild side, too. The two forces battled within her all of the time. If we went to an amusement park, part of her would want to go on the roller coasters — even though she did not meet the height requirement. She didn’t care. The other part of her did. The other part of her stopped her from begging to go. And yet, I would catch her eyeing those roller coasters. I could see part of her brain trying to figure out how she could get away with sneaking on for a ride yet also make sure that I would never know. And more importantly, nobody would.
“Of course, with roller coasters at amusement parks, she never stood a chance. Nobody would let her ride, and she would have to go home feeling a little left out. Yet she also seemed a bit relieved — that by following the rules, she had somehow done better.
“But there were other times when opportunities presented themselves to her. Those times her wild side won out.”
Roni’s head swirled, and she strained to keep focus on Gram’s story. She attempted to hold her face stoic so as not to betray any discomfort, anything out of the ordinary. She probably failed, but she also figured Gram was too wrapped up in our own tale to notice.
“Once,” Gram said, her voice darkening as her eyes gazed off toward the transept, “Maria and I went for a short hike and a picnic lunch at the park. It was a beautiful day — crisp air, golden leaves everywhere, perfect. Near the end of the hike, we came upon a dead squirrel. It caught Maria’s attention because its belly had bloated up. She thought it looked like one of those toys that when you squeezed it, the eyes bulged out. I told her not to touch it and then moved along. Later, we sat on a blanket and had a lovely picnic. There were other families around, other children, and this was at a time when parents were not scared to let their children explore. So, while Maria and some of the other kids ran off to the woods or to play ball on the fields, I sat back with the other adults and chatted.”
Gram smirked as the memory played out in her head.
“She would’ve gotten away with it, but she scared some of the other kids. They ratted her out. I learned that Maria went back to the squirrel. She found a stick and using a rock, she sharpened it. Nothing deadly, just enough to poke that squirrel’s belly. Some of the other children who had been equally fascinated warned her not to do it. Their parents had also told them not to touch the dead animal. But she didn’t listen.
“That’s all. I never found out what else happened because all the screaming kids got their parents worked up, and I had to usher Maria away. I didn’t want to make her feel bad for being inquisitive, so I let the matter go. But I want you to understand — she was not a perfect person. Not even from the beginning. And when that rift did what it did to her, it exacerbated the problem. That’s the thing that you saw as Maria, the thing I wanted to think of as my daughter —it never was. It looked like her, but she never was whatever idealized version of her you have in your head. Never was what was in my head.” Gram leaned forward, took Roni’s hand, and kissed it. “She never could be. You understand?”
A harrowing shriek attacked Roni’s ears. Bile flooded her throat, burning as it raced up and back down, and left behind an acrid, sick taste. Her head pounded with images from a little girl’s twisted picnic afternoon.
Roni saw that squirrel — a bloated carcass, soulless and stiff. She could feel the girl’s determination — using a dull rock to sharpen the stick. Fascination motivated some of her actions, but cruelty and defiance were at the core. A twisted sense of satisfaction flooded her as the gases poured out of the hole in the squirrel’s belly making a wet, high tone like the mouth of a balloon held mostly closed.
“I’m sorry,” Roni managed to say without throwing up. “I need to be by myself.”
She hurried to her feet and rushed down the long nave until she reached the exit. She could feel Gram staring at her in confusion. Those eyes pressed upon her back hot and uncomfortable.
Once outside, she looked for privacy. She thought about returning to the lake but figured Gram might come searching for her there. The dorms and library were out — she had no desire to see either building ever again. She recalled seeing a barn further up the road from the dorms; however, she did not know if that building belonged to the Abbey or if they bordered a farm. She did not want to add trespassing to her list of transgressions this trip.
Instead, she opted to take the path leading from the library into the woods. Worst case, it was a nature trail that made a big circle. She would end up right back here, but at least, she would have time to think in the quiet. However, after a few minutes of walking, she discovered it led to the Abbey cemetery. While that held a touch of gruesome irony, it also guaranteed some solitude. She’d take it.
Walking along the path, she tried to clear her thoughts. It was a foolish attempt. No way could she stop thinking about what she had experienced since waking up.
The sounds that plagued her. The headaches and body aches. But mostly, the sense of being communicated to by word, by feeling, and by image.
Something must have happened when those energy pulses from the rift hit her. Somehow, she had connected with Maria.
Perhaps Maria’s presence within the universe of the book had somehow leeched into this new connection with Roni. Or perhaps Maria never left at all. Perhaps what remained of her had been scattered into the very air Roni breathed.
Rubbing her temples, she moaned. The path opened onto the graveyard — a small but functional plot of land devoted to rows upon rows of nuns who had served the Abbey well. These people sure loved to bury themselves in a variety of ways.
Roni walked to the opposite side where she found a large oak tree. Sitting down at the base, leaning her back against its trunk, she continued her attempts to make sense out of what had happened. She needed more than simple suppositions. She needed to know the truth.
Time drifted by — she lost track. Her thoughts swam in a murky darkness that would have shrouded her even at high noon. Perhaps, she thought, she had fallen asleep for a short time, but the pain in her head had not eased — usually a rest made headaches disappear for her.
Roni got back to her feet. Might as well return. Time to find out what the Old Gang wanted to do.
But before Roni set out, she saw several lights coming her way. She heard the steady beat of an old drum. Out of the deep shadows of the woods, Sister Mary led a procession of the Abbey nuns. Three of them carried a coffin while Sister Mary hit the wide, shallow drum with a bone. As they entered the graveyard, flashlights bounced from ropes around their necks and their habits rustled the ground. The drum beat out a mournful sound.
But the procession did not stop. They went beyond the cemetery, deeper into the woods. Not following a well-trodden path but forging into an unmarked section.
Roni did not know what to make of what she saw but one thought echoed in her head as she quietly followed them — this isn’t right.