A World Apart (5 page)

"Dad, you don't understand..."

"Son, I understand."  His father interrupted.  "Don't you think that I sometimes feel the urge to rap someone upside their head?  However, as you get older, you will realize that letting some things go is better for your health.  It doesn't mean you are a coward."

"So, you are saying to never fight."  Jake replied stubbornly.

"No, Jake.  I'm asking that, if you have to, you should always fight for something important, not over silly stuff like what other people think."  His father paused.  "Look, I try to live and let live, but if someone tried to hurt your mom or you kids, I would do everything in my power to stop them, even if it meant having to kill them or it cost me my own life."  He said, his voice turning harder as he spoke.

Jake, startled by the sudden passion in his father's voice, looked over at his face.  He was surprised to see something in his father that he had never seen before: dangerousness.  As his father imagined someone threatening his family, his body and face had tightened and his eyes were full of dark thoughts.  Jake was taken aback and a bit awed by this side of his father.  His father noticed his look and gave himself a little shake.

He smiled ruefully.  "Well, hopefully, we'll never have to cross that line.  You understand what I am trying to say here, Jake?"  Jake nodded.

His father's expression turned serious.  "Jake, I'm going to call Donald's father."  He held up a hand when Jake began to protest.  "No arguments.  We'll discuss what happened and how to make sure it does not happen again.  Am I understood?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Good."  His father smiled again.  "Let's talk about something else.  Tell me about this girl you like so much."

Caught up in the closeness he felt with his father at the moment, Jake surprised himself by talking about his feelings for Sabrina.  He had never really spoken of this to his parents.

"Well, Jake, I know you think your old man was born old, but believe it or not, I was your age once.  One of the things I learned from that time was that it's exciting to have these feelings and desires for someone else, but you should be sure that the feeling is returned.  Otherwise, you'll just drive yourself crazy for no good purpose.  Trust me, I know."  His father paused, a small smile on his face, eyes distant, accessing some memory.  He shook his head slightly and looked his son in the face.  "Do you know if Sabrina even feels the same way about you?  She is dating Donald, after all."

"Well, I never really asked her."  Jake replied, feeling a little sheepish.  "She seems to like me."

"I know that you don't want to hear this, but 'like' is a long way from where you want this to be.  You should be sure of her feelings before you commit so much effort in your pursuit.  You may just miss other opportunities."  His father paused.  "What about this Tina?  She clearly seems to like you as more than a friend.  Honestly, she sounds like a kick in the pants to me."

"She's fun to be around, Dad, but she is not Sabrina.  I mean, if you saw Sabrina, you would understand."

His father shook his head, bemused by that answer.  "I guess you'll have to learn the hard way.  Just remember that your old man warned you."

His father stood up and opened the door.  He glanced back at Jake.  "Don't forget.  You owe your mother an apology.  One last bit of fatherly advice: The quicker you do it, the better off you will be."  His father headed back towards the kitchen.

Jake sat on the bed for a minute or so, thinking about what his father had said, feeling somewhat better, then got up and left his room.  He entered the kitchen and saw that his father had sat back down at the table, his brother and sister both talking to him at once.  His mother was still in the kitchen, spooning some extra potatoes into a bowl.  She looked at Jake and gave him a warm smile.  Seeing that as he approached her, Jake felt guilty for having shouted at her.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Mom."  Jake said quietly.  "I've had a pretty crappy day."

His mother reached out and pulled him into a fierce hug.  His sore ribs protested against the pressure of her embrace.  "That's ok, Jake.  I love you and am just so worried for you."  She released him, reached up and lightly touched his swollen eye.  "Are you sure you are ok?  That looks bad, honey."

"I'm fine, Mom.  It looks worse that it feels."  Jake lied.

"If you say so, Jake."  She gave him another quick hug and turned back to the potatoes.  "Why don't you go sit down and get something to eat."

"I'm not hungry, Mom.  I just want to head outside and get some fresh air to clear my head."

His mother frowned at that, but said.  "Ok, sweetheart, I'll make a plate for you.  Don't be too long."

Jake headed out the back door, grateful for the cool night air.  After all of the conflicting emotions he had just gone through, he felt the need for the solitude of the woods.  He paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness and then began moving towards the woods.

The almost-full moon, in a cloudless sky, was bathing the ground in a faint silvery light, allowing Jake to see where he was going.  As he reached the edge of the woods, the moonlight made the shadows under the trees in the woods seem even darker.  Unconcerned, he headed in; having been in the woods many times, he was confident about his ability to navigate in the dark.

He made his way through the trees to the pond.  The water seemed to sparkle as the moonlight reflected off the slight ripples that were pushed by the movement of the frogs and insects across its surface.  At the edge of the pond, a large flat rock seemed to call to Jake.  It had been placed there many years before, serving as convenient seat for enjoying the pond.  It protruded into the pond a foot or so, so people could soak their feet without having to sit in the dirt.

Jake made his way to the rock and sat down.  He pulled up his hood and laid back on the rock.  He shifted a couple of times to take pressure off his ribs, finding a comfortable position.  He rested his head back and gazed up at the stars.  Once he had settled and stopped moving, the frogs around the pond resumed their calls that they had stopped at his approach.  The noise they raised started to intrude into his thoughts, so he sat up and pulled out his phone and earbuds to start his music.  He put the earbuds in and looked at his phone.

As he tapped the phone to wake it up, he saw that he had received several texts.  Sighing, he opened his messages.  The first one was from Matt.  "Dude, someone posted on Facebook that you got jumped by the Donster.  Let me know."  The next was from Sean.  "Matt told me that Donald found you.  I thought you were ok?"  The last one was from Tina.  "Jake, I heard something about a fight.  Call me."

Jake groaned, suddenly hating social media.  This was going to be a nightmare when he went back to school.  Everyone would know by tomorrow.  He did not feel like replying right now, so he closed out the messages and went to his playlists.  He selected his soft mix, wanting to relax.  As the first song came on, he adjusted the volume and lay back down.

His thoughts drifted as he watched the stars slowly move across the sky overhead.  He thought of Sabrina, then Tina, about what he would say to his friends, how to handle the scene at school.  The rapid succession of thoughts and images slowed into a repetitive pattern of visions of Sabrina and Tina.  Soon, even those thoughts faded and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Some instinct startled Jake awake.  He felt a chill pass through his body and knew something was wrong.  He sat up as quickly as his injured body allowed and pulled out his earbuds.  He swiftly looked around, but only saw the shadowy outline of the trees and the moonlight dappling the ground through the breaks in the trees.  Confused, he looked all around the clearing again, this time with deliberate purpose, but saw nothing unusual.  All of the sudden, he realized what was wrong.  It was too quiet.  There were no sounds, not even the sound of the slight breeze moving in the trees.

Freaked out by the silence, he started to rise to leave when he saw the flashes of light in the pond; it was not the reflections of moonlight on the water, it seemed to be coming from beneath the surface.  He moved cautiously to the edge of the rock and peered into the water, ignoring the sudden throbbing in his head.  He saw a ball of pulsing bluish-white light seeming to emanate from the bottom of the pond.  He stared at it for a couple of seconds, fascinated, concerns and injuries temporarily forgotten.  He racked his brain, but could not figure out what would be causing that to happen.

With an abrupt start, he realized that he should be getting this on his camera.  He was reaching for his phone when the light suddenly pulsed brightly.  Before Jake could react, the light pulsed again and seemed to erupt noiselessly from the pond.  He tried to move, but the light quickly surrounded him, squeezing him tightly as if he was captured in a giant fist, the brightness blinding his sight.  He screamed for help, but no sound reached his ears as if the light absorbed it all.  The light flared again and he could feel warmth spread over his body.  Quicker than thought, he felt a sudden wrenching and the sensation of acceleration as if he were being pulled rapidly over an unimaginable distance.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

Wrapped in the cocoon of light, Jake could not see or hear anything.  He knew he was still breathing and was aware of his body.  The warmth of the light filled him, but he could not feel anything other than a sense of movement.  It was as if his mind was disconnected from his body; the light was everything.

Without warning, Jake was thrust back into his body as the surrounding light vibrated and shuddered.  He felt as if it had hit some sort of resistance, like a rock skipping across water.  Moments later, he felt a violent jerk and the light seemed to darken.  Streaks of the darkest black appeared in the light and seemed to whirl around like a tornado.  He could feel a coldness seeping into the light's warmth from those streaks.  The light blazed brighter and pushed the black away.  The sense of movement continued.

The black came again, the violent collision stronger this time.  Jake felt the jerking start again, this time rattling him to and fro in the light.  The darkness crept back into the light.  The light flared again, but this time it could not completely overcome the black.  He had the sensation of being in the middle of a tug-a-war, with him the rope.  The jerking became more violent, its pace quickening.  Faster and faster, he was pushed and pulled, heat and cold lashing him, unable to do anything but yell silently.

Suddenly, he could hear noises.  He could hear the sizzling, crackling sounds as the light and dark collided.  Faint fierce cries echoed as the black strove to overcome the light.  The jerking kept increasing; shaking him with such force that he was sure his bones would break.  He felt trapped and helpless, unable to do anything.  The violence peaked, noise and movement overwhelming his senses.  He was striving to stay conscious amid the chaos when the light seemed to explode and everything went dark.

…

Jake slowly regained consciousness.  He became aware that he was lying on his back, a warm light on his face, cool air moving softly against his skin.  He opened his eyes, blinking against the sudden light.  He could see the light brown branches of trees above him, with sunlight filtering though the gaps in the green leaves.  He moved to roll over and felt his bruised ribs scream at him.  He gingerly got to his side and gently pushed himself into a sitting position.

At first, he thought he had been dreaming and somehow moved under the trees in the Black Hole Woods, but as his mind gained clarity, he realized that this was more of a forest than a grove of trees.  The dark loamy ground, with its rich earthy smell, was different from the soil in the Woods.  He was sitting in a small patch of cleared ground, but near the base of the trees, there were random green clumps of plants providing ground cover.  The trees, with their light brown bark and overarching canopy of green leaves, were more densely packed than in the Woods.  He could hear the sounds of birds as they moved around the top branches.

"What the hell happened and how did I get here?"  Jake muttered out loud.  "Where is here, anyway?"  He slowly stood up, turning in a circle, looking for something familiar.  Nothing was right.  He grabbed his phone, hoping he could call for help, but he saw it had no signal.  He tried the GPS app, but it also had no signal.  That could just be because of interference from the trees, he tried to tell himself.  Fear began to worm its way into his mind.  He was confused, lost and with no way to contact his family or friends.

He began to panic slightly.  He yelled "Help!" as loudly as he could, causing the cut on his lip to reopen and trickle blood again.  He waited a few seconds and yelled again.  Frustrated and growing more frightened, he yelled over and over, hoping that there was someone, anyone, near to help him.  His voice echoed through the forest, but he got no reply.

He finally stopped, his voice becoming raw, fear rising in his chest.  His breath began to whistle as it blew in and out in a shallow, rapid pattern.  His body began to tremble, sweat burst from his pores and he suddenly felt light-headed.  Concerned he may pass out, he sat back down, bringing his knees up near his chest.  Wrapping his arms around his legs, he put his forehead on his knees, closed his eyes and tried to calm down.  He felt tears start to leak from the corners of his eyes and he moved his head side-to-side, wiping them on his sweatpants.  The pressure generated pain in his swollen eye, but he ignored it.  He was lost, really lost, alone and he was now sure he would never see his family or friends again.  A sob escaped from him; the urge to weep threatened to overwhelm him.

As he teetered on the edge of full-blown panic, his father's voice suddenly came into his mind.  It was his warning to Jake when they had first gone camping.  "Jake,..." his father had said "...if you ever find yourself lost, the worst thing you can do is panic.  Panic kills because it makes you do rash things.  You must stay calm, even if you don't think you can.  Take the time to assess your situation and develop a plan.  That is how you will survive."  Clinging to his father's words like a lifeline, Jake tried to slow his breathing and clear his racing mind, desperately willing himself to relax.