The Spirit Survives (18 page)

Leah reminded herself that she had to stay tough. She loved Ben with all her heart and she knew that, if he was alive, he would find her and protect her. She was worried that she could be the cause of Ben’s death if the big man lured him to a meeting. She recognized the pure evil in Bo’s eyes and believed that he meant to kill them both. She couldn’t let that happen. She would rather die herself than see Ben murdered while trying to save her. She decided at that moment to refuse anything the big man wanted her to do or say to draw Ben to a rendezvous. She vowed that she would fight to her last breath if he tried to rape her again. Leah swore to herself that she would shed no more tears. She would be defiant and, if he killed her, so be it. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

The slamming of the door awoke her as the big man returned. She heard the refrigerator door open and ice clicking into glasses. She cringed when she heard his heavy footstep trouncing up the stairs. He approached the foot of the bed and placed the two drinks on the chest. He looked weirdly calm. He tore the tape from her mouth and untied her hands. She sat silently wondering what he would do next. He walked to the chest picked up the two drinks, took a long pull from his and handed the other to her. She was surprised that hers was only ice water. She gulped it down and said, “Thank you.”

The big man asked if she needed to use the bathroom, and she shook her head.
 

“Listen,” he said, “we need to help each other. I need to talk to Ben Harris, and I promise I won’t hurt either of you. It’s important that I talk to him as soon as possible.”

“What do you want him for?” Leah answered in a very calm voice, knowing that he was lying.

“I just need to talk to him,” the big man replied. “Here I found your cell phone for you. Why don’t you call him to let him know that you’re okay and then let me speak to him.”

Leah decided to acquiesce with his request, but to say something, if Ben answered, to alert him that she was in trouble. She took the cell phone, opened it and pushed her speed dial for Ben’s cell. After eight rings his voice mail answered. The last few times she had called the same message had repeated itself. It was a recording of the operator saying that his cell was out of the calling area and could not be reached. This time was different; she heard his voice relating that he was away from the phone and to leave a number. She knew that something had changed. She looked over to the big man and told him that she got Ben’s voice mail.
 

“Leave him a message,” he said.

“Hi Ben, this is Leah. I‘ve been trying to call you to tell you that everything here is okay, and that I’m at home. The movers delivered the furniture, but your pool table was damaged, sorry. Call me as soon as you can.”

The big man grabbed the phone from her hand ended the call. He grinned that shit-eating grin of his, retied her hands, put the tape back over her mouth and left the loft.

Chapter 42

I heard someone speak, “He’s dying. We’ve done all we can for him medically, but he won’t make it. I’m sorry. He was too far gone when you brought him here. The poison in his system, dehydration, and starvation were more than he could survive. It’s just a matter of time,” the deep male voice pronounced with decisiveness.
 

Who’s he talking about? I’m not dead.
I tried to open my mouth but nothing happened. I tried to groan but no sound emerged. I heard a different male voice say, “He’s a fighter, Doctor, don’t count him out.”

I attempted to move or open my eyes, but I wasn’t in control of my body.
 

I was trapped in the cave, and now I’m trapped in my own body. I’m here alone with my spirit.

I had to fight. I must fight. I had to perform an all-out assault on death. I needed to live for Leah.
 

I’m awake in a daze. I’m not in the hospital anymore. I’m at home in Houston. The day appears to be like any other, except for the knot in my stomach that formed sometime during the night and is thriving in anticipation of something. I must careful with my actions and thoughts because the subconscious is more
powerful and accurate than reality. The knot must be its creation, the subconscious mind’s child born on this day. I dismount my bed, perform my normal morning tasks, and walk outside to enter the day.

The haze is present as it has been for days, the sunlight concealed by the damn haze and the light mist of rain falling looks everlasting. Without sunlight, everything appears less vibrant. The grass has long since turned brown and died. Even water has a slightly metallic taste. Whenever a bird sings, it’s a little off key and love and emotion in my mind are conspicuous in their absence
.

These conditions don’t particularly depress me. Maybe, as life progresses mentally and physically, this is the natural state of our private world…if you are emotionally alone.

Our creator made life the brightest at birth and the dimming process immediately begins, evolving into darkness at death. In between, most humans just play the game, survive their lives, endure fear and avoid risks until darkness consumes their soul.

As I stand at my doorstep, life’s standard maze of the day confronts me. As usual, I step forward and enter its contradictions. I always found my way through each maze, since I was cursed with a will that cannot recognize defeat. I’m determined to understand the complexities of life’s directions before the sun ceases to exist and the final darkness allows me to rest.

Abruptly, a brilliant light crashes the shadows and the passageways of my mind. The maze is desecrated by its heat. It is shocking in its rudeness of interrupting my routine. I angrily look for the source of the intrusion. The light flashes and diminishes and flees to the west, forming a red ball of light in the distance. The mist of rain stops for an instant, but soon resumes, accompanied by an unusually cold breeze. The knot in my stomach tightens, “What is the hell is going on?” I say aloud to myself. I decide to follow the light to solve its mysteries.

Time throughout my journey passes slowly as I pursue the brilliant light in the distance. After what seems to be an eternity of travel and thought, I arrive at a crossroads. The light has stopped moving and is on the other side. It’s high in the sky with streaming brightness shining down to the earth. As my eyes descend to what lies directly below the streaming light, I think my senses will explode. I can barely breathe as my heart races, my eyes water and my soul awakens.
Although the cool breeze and the mist remain where I’m standing, on the other side of the crossroad is a miracle. Just footsteps and a rationalization away is the most beautiful meadow that my mind can conceive. It’s brilliant with sunlight and warmth. The sweet smell of success, life and love rush from it. Majestic trees border the meadow filled with ripe fruit. Birds sing a melody so hypnotic that my fears and worries disappear. Life there is young and fresh and pure. Unconditional love awaits me.
 

Is this Heaven?
 

I waver for a moment. Surely I’m dreaming. However, I soon realize that I’m as conscious as one could reasonably expect a human being to be. My decision is instantly made. I run full force toward that gorgeous meadow. I know that when I reach it, my life will be refreshed and changed forever. I hear its thoughts in the songs of the birds, “Come to me, you can keep me beautiful
by caring for me, feeding my desires and loving me. Lie in my soft grass, eat my fruit, and I will be fulfilled by your presence.”

I reach deep into my being for strength to arrive there more quickly. I soar in the exotic illusion of hope fulfilled.

Without warning, I strike something cold and hard. I have been sprinting with such speed and abandon that the force of the collision knocks me backwards into my world and into unconsciousness.

After what seems an eternity I awake, bleeding and disoriented, while destiny smiles at my ignorance. I immediately look toward the meadow to see what rejected me. There, standing high and strong and unrelenting is a Wall, an imposing and grim Wall. It is alive and appears proud of its ability to reject me. “Why didn’t I see it before? How could it have been built so quickly?” my mind screams. I’m also stunned by the fact that the meadow is no longer visible. It’s now behind its protective Wall.

The meadow revealed to me its irresistible beauty and then immediately protected itself from my entry with the Wall.

I swiftly recover from the blow as emotion and will veil the pain of my wounds. I must find a way into the meadow. The Wall was too hastily constructed to be invincible, and I am strong and determined. The reason the Wall rejected me so effortlessly was because I wasn’t prepared for its existence. It surprised me and that will not happen again. I make my plans for a full frontal assault on the obstacle in the path of my happiness.

I arm myself with powerful emotion, truth and determination and then again, I charge the Wall. My will is strong, my desire intense, and the belief that I can eliminate any Wall is foremost in my mind. I have never failed when faced with a challenge, and I’m convinced that failure for me is impossible.

As I near the Wall, I lower my shoulders, open my heart and collide. I am totally exposed with all aspects of my being.

The Wall remains.

The damage from the second collision to my heart and my determination is
massive.
Through the mist, I had not noticed that the Wall had grown thicker and taller since my first assault.
 

As time passes, I rest and heal. The natural reaction is to hate the Wall for the pain it inflicted upon me, but as I think of the beauty of the meadow it is protecting, hate is impossible.
 

I will not be defeated! I will try again.

I search my arsenal for my ultimate weapon. My heart and my emotion were not enough, but a full frontal, sincere assault is still my plan.

I will lead my next offensive with the essence of my being exposed. I will demolish the Wall with my spirit. I have always unconditionally safeguarded my spirit, so I feel grave apprehension about the risk of exposing it to the dangers of rejection. Oh, but the meadow, I deserve the meadow.

After dutiful preparation, I charge the Wall for the third time, leading with my spirit, supported by my damaged heart and my injured determination. I focus all my strength on this attack. The moment before I crash into the Wall, my hopes soar, and I feel the Wall’s resolve weaken. The collision with the forces of my being and the resistance of the Wall is momentarily indecisive. The Wall moves and wavers.

However, the Wall remains.

The blackness of my failure temporarily conceals the pain, but soon my intensity returns. My mind demands time to heal. I have never given up in my life, but this rejection seems irreversible. I should just walk away. If I put enough distance between myself and the Wall, maybe I can eliminate the memory of what lies behind it. “Walk away. Walk away and don’t look back!” I silently scream to myself.

As I turn, my decision made, I hear a loud strange noise, almost a shriek. The sound is filled with sadness, and it demands my attention. The outcry came from somewhere along the Wall. It shrieks again and I look closer. Then I spot it, a tiny frog, much too small to create such a loud noise. For a moment, I think I detect a tear in its eye. It appears to be trying to call my attention to two words, which are chiseled in the base of the Wall. I move closer and what I read freezes my emotions and my existence. I breathe deeply to regain control. The two words scramble my mind. “Leah Trouble” These are more than words; these are my dreams being shattered.
 

I must try again to assault the Wall, and I know that my most powerful weapon is logic.

As I reach relative wellness for the third time, I opened my eyes again. They had been open, but they were not seeing. I was so focused on the Wall that I didn’t notice the changes in my surroundings. To my astonishment, the mist has lifted, and I see other meadows. Maybe they aren’t quite as beautiful, but easily accessible with no Walls protecting them. Possibly they have been there all along. They beckon to me and ask for a reply. I must answer them with the knowledge I gained from my futile assaults on the Wall.

- Full frontal assaults never work.

- Never lead with your heart.

- Protect your spirit at all costs.

- Never allow emotions to control logic.

I walk to the Wall, look at it and try to remember what it was protecting. The meadow is now entombed in my memory behind its own wall. I gently touch the Wall; it warms and shudders slightly at my contact.
 

However, the Wall remains.

Then with my logic, unhindered by wounds, I’m astonished to realize that the Wall was protecting me, not the meadow. If I had crossed into the meadow, I would have traversed the line between life and death. The meadow was my paradise and the Wall was Leah’s will and my love for her, which was keeping me alive. I tried to die to relieve my pain, but the will and strength of my love kept me breathing.

I survive.

I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was the white ceiling of my hospital room. I glanced down at my body. The leg which had been bitten by the snake was bandaged and elevated. There were needles in both arms connected to bottles of liquids hanging on stands by the bed and my head was bandaged. My mouth was dry and I felt dizzy. I remembered vividly the hallucinations or the dreams about assaulting a wall. I realized that I had been at the portal of death and had walked away. I tried to speak but there was a tube in my throat. I took a deep breath and floated off to a drug-induced slumber.