Shimmer (12 page)

“Not to mention the fact that you don’t know squat about the Here & Now.”

He had my full attention.

“You have no idea how it works, do you?” Bodhi asked.

My eyes locked on his.

“No one is ever
stuck
anywhere, Riley. Seriously, what kind of a place do you think it is?”

I looked at him, because to be honest, I really wasn’t sure. At that point, I still had a whole lot of questions as to how it all worked.

He ducked his head lower and clenched that green straw between his teeth as he said, “Then again, I guess now you’ll never find out just what you’re truly capable of over there. You know, since you’re choosing to be
stuck
here instead.”

I gaped, at first unable to utter the words, though it wasn’t long before I said, “You mean, I can … I can, maybe … actually …
turn thirteen someday
?” I pressed my lips together, sure it was too good to be true.

But Bodhi just quirked his brow and shrugged in a vague, noncommittal kind of way. “There’re no limits that I’m aware of—pretty much anything is possible there. But, the sad part is you’ll never even get close if you can’t find your way out of here.”

I stared down at my toes, my dancing scorched toes. Hearing his voice in my head urging, “
Concentrate. Focus
. See the
true reality
of this place, not the one Rebecca wants you to see.”

So I did.

And it wasn’t long before the wind stopped, the fire extinguished, the ground went still, and my toes cooled, though my hair still looked like a fright wig.

“You can deal with that later.” Bodhi laughed, chucking me under my chin. “But first, we have some souls to release.”

21

Buttercup and I went one way, while Bodhi went another. Each of us approaching the nearest, suffering soul, taking hold of their hand, and immersing ourselves in their world of pain until we could introduce that small space of
silence
that guided them out of their hell.

And if you think that sounds simple, if you think that sounds easy-peasy, well, let me tell you: It isn’t.

Not even close.

The truth is, we were subjected to some pretty dark things—along with some pretty scary things, and some pretty horrific things, and some pretty sad things. And I’ll speak for myself when I say I personally witnessed the kind of suffering I never could’ve imagined, never
wanted
to imagine, before.

I
felt
the crack of the whip against my bare back that caused my skin to break open and ooze.

I
watched
with an indescribable fear as an intentionally aimed bowling ball whizzed right past my face, missing me by only a fraction of an inch.

I heard the horrible
thwonk
as that same bowling ball slammed into a far less fortunate friend, filled with the horrifying knowledge that yet another brother had passed.

But still, I kept right on going, offering hope, love, and compassion—the three biggest, most powerful forces in the universe—and when I saw that moment of reprieve, when I saw that small gap of silence introduced, well, I encouraged them to seize it, focus on it, and grow it until it became big enough for them to climb into.

Big enough for them to fly away in.

And somewhere along the way, a funny thing happened.

With every soul we released, Rebecca’s world, her darkly glistening bubble of anger, grew a little bit smaller.

Though I couldn’t see her, I could tell by the way Buttercup stilled, lowered his head, and pulled in his tail, that Rebecca was somewhere among us. But for the time being anyway, she didn’t dare approach, and honestly, I felt so empowered by the work I was doing, I’m not sure I would’ve cared if she had.

Suddenly, I had something that was missing before: a strong belief in myself and the promise of a future I hadn’t dared to even think about.

Because if what Bodhi said was true, I just might get to experience my biggest dream yet: that of being
thirteen.

But first, we had some serious business to attend to.

Each soul was different. No two were alike. Some were angry with themselves, some were angry with others, while some had lived lives so horrendous it was truly impossible to fathom.

Still, I wasn’t there to judge: I was merely there to provide some relief. So I continued to make my way through the ranks, thinning the crowd significantly, until I stopped to take a good look around and was amazed to find the world had been dwindled down to Bodhi, Buttercup, Prince Kanta, and me.

To say I was thrilled to see the prince again would be putting it mildly. Though I’d tried not to think too much about it, tried to stay focused on the soul at hand, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been pretty disturbed by his absence.

But when I tried to introduce him to Bodhi, I realized they’d run into each other just a little earlier, around the time the walls really started to close in and they’d bumped right into each other.

And though none of us actually said it, I knew we were all looking for Rebecca. Her world had shrunk to the point where there was only one place left to hide—in the big yellow house, a manifested replica of the one she grew up in.

I stared at the mansion, unsure if we should make the first move and go get her, or wait for her to come to her senses, acknowledge her defeat, and find her way outside to wave her white flag.

But when Bodhi mentioned tearing the house down in order to get to her, I had another idea.

I slipped right in front of them and made my way in, swiftly ascending the stairs with my friends right behind me, knowing exactly where I’d find her since I’d already lived the experience.

I went straight for the closet. And while I admit, for a split second I considered manifesting some kind of facade that looked just like her father, knowing that would certainly lure her right out, in the end, I decided against it. Partly because it just didn’t seem right—it seemed cruel and unkind—and partly because I really had no idea how to do that (though I made a mental note to ask later).

I paused before the door, glancing over my shoulder to see the prince and Bodhi nodding their encouragement, while Buttercup thumped his tail against the floor.

Then I grabbed hold of the knob and yanked the door open, my eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the dimness, spying nothing more than the tips of her shiny brown boots, the hem of her flouncy dress, and the stray paw of the dog she clutched to her chest, until I moved all the old hanging clothes aside and could gaze upon the rest of her.

Our eyes met. And for a moment, I was sure I couldn’t go through with it. But the thought was quickly overcome by something I can only describe as a
thought wave
—this big, wonderful swarm of love and support that came from my friends.

Strengthened by the way it swept right over me, pooled all around me, I looked at Rebecca and said, “It’s over.
Everything’s
over. You’re the only one left, and now it’s time to come out.”

But if I’d had any illusions it would be anywhere near that easy, well, I quickly got over them.

Rebecca wasn’t going anywhere. And somewhere in the midst of all her yelling and cursing and ranting and raving, she’d told me as much.

“He’s not coming,” I said, deflecting each verbal blow, letting it just whiz right past me. “Your father is
gone
. He moved on a long time ago. Which means there’s really no point in reliving all this.”

She scooched back even farther, clutched her dog tighter, and kicked at me with her boots. And when it was clear I wasn’t going anywhere, when it was clear that none of us were, she did the unthinkable.

She let go of her dog and sicced him on Buttercup.

I screamed.

I couldn’t help it.

The sight of that
beast
charging my dog caused me to lose all my focus.

But luckily, I had backup.

Backup that wasn’t the least bit fazed by any of it.

And no, I’m not referring to Bodhi, or even Prince Kanta as I definitely heard them suck in a fair amount of air—I’m talking about Buttercup.

My sweet yellow Lab who, seeing the dog now grown to one hundred times his size, equated it with the game of fetch he’d been playing earlier, the game that started all this. Manifesting a lime green tennis ball, just like the one we’d been using, he sent it bouncing toward the door, down the hall, then barked and wagged his tail harder as he watched the hellhound chase after it.

The last thing I heard as Shucky ran down the stairs and out the front door was the sound of Rebecca screaming,
“Nooooooo!”
when she realized her dog, thanks to mine, was now on the other side of her globe.

We tried to cajole her, tried to convince her to join him, but she refused. Even after we’d stripped away the closet, the house, and tried to show her just how quickly her world had shrunk down, that besides the three of us, she was the only inhabitant left, she still resisted the truth.

Choosing to fight back by manifesting all manner of hateful, anger-making memories along with every natural disaster she could think of.

But we remained calm, focused, and united—each of us happily residing in the small, quiet space of
silence
she could no longer take from us.

“What now?” I glanced between the prince and Bodhi, looking for some wise words, if not guidance.

“We leave her.” The prince shrugged. “Now that my brothers and sisters are freed”—he nodded toward the place just outside the globe where they all stood, peering in at us—“it is time for me to go. I was hoping to reach her, but that does not seem to be possible just yet. And for that, I am sorry. It is a very great failure on my part.”

Though Bodhi was quick to agree that we should all just leave and possibly revisit that sad, angry girl on some other day, I had another idea entirely.

“I know
exactly
how to get her out of here,” I said, looking at each of them. “Just follow my lead.”

22

“You can’t do it,” Bodhi said, but I turned my back on him, determined to go through with it no matter how he might choose to protest. “You cannot force someone to cross the bridge. It goes against all the rules. And I can’t believe I have to repeat this to you when you already know that.”

I glanced at the prince, embarrassed to be bickering in front of him like this. Still, I had every intention to stand my ground. I’d had an idea. A good one if I might say so myself. And I was sure it would work, if Bodhi would just give it half a chance.

“No one’s
forcing
anyone to do anything,” I said, making it a point to roll my eyes and shake my head. “I mean,
sheesh,
whaddaya take me for? Some kind of amateur?” I screwed my lips to the side.

“Then what?” he asked, voice still full of the fight. “You can
see
she’s not cooperating, so short of
forcing
her to do what you want, how are you possibly going to convince her?”

I clutched my hips and gazed all around; just because he was in charge of guiding me, didn’t mean he knew squat when it came to the depths of my imagination. “I’m not going to
force
her, and I seriously doubt I’ll be able to
convince
her—though I do know something that will.”

Bodhi squinted, taking his annoyance out on the straw he mangled hard between his teeth.

“The
bridge
will convince her.”

He sighed. One of those big, loud, exasperated kind of sighs that was soon followed by, “Excuse me, but did I not just tell you that—” But his words were cut short by the flash of my hand.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said, gazing between him and the prince. “Maybe I can’t
force
her to cross it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t lead her to it.”

They looked at me.

“And once she sees the promise it holds, well, there’s no way she can resist.”

“Yeah? And what if she does?” Bodhi asked, stubbornly refusing to see the absolute genius of my plan.

But I just shrugged. “Well, then I guess we’ll cross it, and leave her to stare at it for the rest of eternity. But there’s no way it’ll come to that,” I said, my voice bearing far more conviction than I actually felt.

“So how do you propose we get her there, to this …
bridge
?” the prince asked, still dressed in the rags he wore when we first met.

I dropped my hands to my sides and squinted at her—at the world she’d created, the one that once seemed so large and overwhelming, only to be reduced to the size of an average thirteen-year-old girl.

She glared at us, all of us. Her fists raised in anger, shouting every type of threat she could think of. And she was so furious to see her little dog Shucky (back to being the tiny version of himself) sitting right alongside Buttercup that she even included him in those threats.

To be honest, if you’d asked me at that moment how I planned to get her anywhere even close to that bridge, well, I really couldn’t have said. I mean, it’s not like the journey was all that long, since all we had to do was make the soft golden veil of light and slip through it to the other side, but still, how would we get
her
through it?

How would we lead her first to Summerland, and then, hopefully, to the Here & Now just beyond?

Then it hit me—why not just
roll
her there?

After all, the bubble was perfectly round, which should make it easy enough. And though I knew she wouldn’t like it, by that point, I admit, I wasn’t really all that concerned about that.

I approached the globe, placed my hands on either side of the space where her eyes glowed and her cheeks flamed bright red, and I started to push. Rolling her slowly at first, seeing her tumble and fall and totally freak as her whole world was sent upside down and a crazy swirl of ash sprayed all over the place.

And just as I was about to deem it a somewhat awkward, but still overall, success, one of Prince Kanta’s
brothers,
a former slave whom I recognized from that sadistic bowling game of Rebecca’s father’s, placed his hand on my arm, and when our eyes met, what I saw practically brought me to my knees.