Chosen (8 page)

The automatic glider moved back and forth, the sensation mimicking a rocking cradle. Her eyes were closed; a smile of genuine delight played across her lips. The air was precious; warm, but not hot, with a gentle, refreshing breeze.

Michael watched Mariah from his stationary recliner, padded to provide maximum comfort for his arthritic back. He had shared his spirit with her during their
Findings
, and had felt hers respond. He now proffered his back yard as a sanctuary. For a brief moment in time, he could shield her from the world that was about to explode in her face.

Michael’s smile was tender. Her expression mirrored his affection, and more: she felt at peace, something Mariah rarely experienced these days. Unafraid to share her inner thoughts, she trusted him completely, knew he would never betray her.

Abigail had provided a welcomed treat: chocolate cream pie. As a thoughtful and goofy addition, M&M’s were held in stasis by the gelled filling.

Mellow from the sedating effect of the chocolate, Mariah held the nearly empty glass of iced chai. She had declined more tea from Abigail (“My eyeballs will float out of their sockets if I drink anymore!”) and now she swirled the remaining ice, nearly hypnotized by the sun’s light reflecting off the shards.

Michael said, “Thank you for sharing your dreams with me. They do sound like they’re on an alien planet. Is it possible they’re in some chronological order?”

Mariah looked pensive. “I think so. I just wish I knew why I’m having them. They must be part of this whole, bizarre experience ... but what’s their purpose? Maybe Stephen is right and I’m making way too much out of it. I admit they both frighten and fascinate me.” Changing direction, she rewarded him with a lopsided grin. “I bet there are lots of things we can talk about that don’t include dreams,
Findings
,
Joinings
, or
Healings
. Is it acceptable to become friends with your minister?”

Michael chuckled. “I love the way your mind skiddles around. It keeps me off balance, like riding a skateboard. And I would deem it an honour to be your friend.”

Happy that she could think about something besides herself, she said, “I want to know who you are and how you got where you are. Right from the beginning.”

Michael groaned. “That far back? My beginnings were very humble: I grew up in Luton, England, a blue collar community of terraces, what you call row houses. I had two brothers and a sister, and we all attended a government school. We then took the ‘11 Plus’ which graded us for Secondary School. I landed in the Grammar section which bound me for university.

“I met Abigail when she moved into our block and attended Grammar with me. That’s when we fell in love. Even though I was mercilessly tormented by the lads in my class, we were still devoted to each other.

“Okay, now it’s your turn. I want all the grisly details,” he said.

Mariah sighed. “My life, until recently, reads like a technical manual: boring,” she said. “I grew up in a large house in Worcester, Massachusetts. My grandparents, my mother’s parents, lived with us. There’s Judith, my sister; Stephen, my brother; my father, Saul; and my mother, Rachel.”

Her smile dimmed. “I was a real pain in the ass. Always questioning everything, challenging authority, and being a thoughtless child. It didn’t seem to bother my father and siblings, but my mother felt like she was under constant attack. She said she never knew if, or when, I was going to say something in front of her friends that would embarrass her, or cause her to have to come to school because of something I did or said that the teacher didn’t like. I even got kicked out of Hebrew school at ten because I had questions about God.

“But what really bothered her was the psychic stuff. I humiliated her, especially the day I performed a little ‘trick’ in the synagogue. ‘You’re always getting into some kind of trouble just to upset me’ was her favorite phrase. But she’s wrong: I never did it on purpose. I swear. My brain just didn’t work like others did. She was sure her friends wouldn’t have anything to do with her if they found out she gave birth to a freak.”

Mariah paused, her eyes cast down, a slight tremor in her voice. “If my mother thought I was a monster then can you imagine what she’d think now?”

“Do you know the Spanish word for ‘freak’ is ‘fenómeno’? Sound like a word you know? Just because you have an inquisitive mind, a thirst for knowledge, and an unusual talent, you certainly aren’t a freak.” Michael tried not to show his aggravation toward Mariah’s mother; it wasn’t Christian, and it would serve no purpose.

“Let’s talk about you again,” she said. It was obvious how much she disliked talking about herself, especially her youth.

“Okay, let’s see. I grew up and went to college.”
Good
, he thought,
I love seeing that grin of hers
. “I received a bachelor’s degree in Physics with an ancillary in Comparative Religions. After receiving my Masters in Physics, I finished with a Doctorate in Theology, winding up teaching physics for many years at Queen Mary College, University of London. Abigail finally persuaded me to leave the world of academia and dedicate myself to God, the part of my life I loved the most. We and our three children immigrated to the United States fifteen years ago. My ministry at Chelsea Heights is in its twelfth year.”

“That’s quite an unusual progression in education,” Mariah said. “I’m amazed that a person could merge these two opposing backgrounds, one of science which is measurable and one of faith, which isn’t. I read somewhere that scientists deal with reality in quantifiable bits that they can observe, identify, describe, experiment with, experience or theorize to death in a methodical, disciplined, and mind-numbing fashion.” At that, Michael threw back his head and joined Mariah in laughter.

Frigid air pierced her skin then attacked her bones and organs. Even though there were no more squirming colors, Mariah knew she was in another horrible dream. The floor beneath her shuddered slightly.

It was as black as coal tar until a pinprick of light materialized before her. As the quaking floor revved up a notch, the light broke apart and formed two circles. Then edges formed to turn the circles into squares. Almost immediately, they elongated to rectangles. In a blink, the upper right corner and the lower left corner distorted the rectangle into a new shape: a parallelogram. But they no longer faced her; the upper right corner now pointing back to where they had originated.

More started to appear, following the same pattern: a dot of light split in half to form circles, then squares, rectangles, and parallelograms. The rattle and sway of the floor became more alarming as the shapes, evenly spaced apart, sped by her on either side. A howling wind began to blow in her face, reaching a strength that forced her to lean forward to keep from being swept off her feet.

Mariah’s lungs labored as they breathed the icy air. The floor began to convulse; the parallelograms becoming more elongated until they collapsed to about half an inch thick, moving faster and faster until they were nothing but a blur. Tears streaming from her eyes flew past the sides of her face, scoring her cheeks.

She heard a high-pitched scream and realized it was coming from her. She was beginning to lose the battle to remain upright as the wind forced her to bend at an almost forty-five degree angle to the floor. Then her feet began to slide out from under her.

Just as she thought her toes were about to leave the buckling floor, she heard the same tune she’d heard during her first dream in this hell. It grew louder, competing with the shrieking, deafening wind. Mariah knew she had only an instant before she would be airborne and probably get slammed against a solid wall behind her or float off into nothing. The ear-piercing wind and demented humming made her head feel like it was going to explode.

Mariah rolled off the bed, skittering sideways to try and hide underneath it. When she realized she was awake, she stopped moving. Her heart decelerated to a point where she could no longer hear it booming in her ears. She tried several times to get her knees and hands beneath her, finally making it when her shaking subsided. She grabbed the edge of the comforter, pulled herself up, and collapsed on the bed. The movement of the nightmare floor gradually receded along with her tears.

Sprawled on the loveseat in Mariah’s living room, Frannie sipped a Coke. It was obvious by the scowl on Mariah’s face that their previous discussion had not gone over well. Changing the subject, she said, “So, tell me about the dark side of Mariah Carpenter.”

Dragged from her reverie, Mariah grinned. “I knew you’d ask me sooner or later. What, are you writing a book?”

Frannie chuckled. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you. Think of all the media hype it would generate. You’d have to hire a flock of publicists to keep cleaning up your image so no one would try to burn you at the stake.”

Mariah threw back her head and laughed. It was a joy to Frannie’s ears because it happened so infrequently these days. “Okay, tell you what; you tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” Mariah said, leaning back in her recliner.

“You asked for it.” Frannie settled herself more comfortably in the loveseat. “At the age of thirteen, I knew what I wanted to be, so I studied hard, got good grades, and began earning money for college. While I was earning my degree in Criminal Justice, I expended a serious amount of energy avoiding my mother and her well-intentioned friends who tried to find me a husband.

“I’m close to two people in my family. One is my grandfather; he thinks I’m the greatest thing since the invention of the electric light bulb.” She smiled, remembering the only man in her life that showered her with unqualified love and attention.

“Unexpectedly, the other one is my oldest brother, Anthony, who turned out to be not so much of a jerk once we became adults. He was actually an ally against our father’s chauvinistic attitudes and my mother’s smothering over-protectiveness.

“Anyway, it seems like I’ve spent a lifetime proving myself in a man’s world. It started with having to be smarter and tougher than my three brothers in order to get my father’s attention. My mother’s attention I had ... ceaselessly.

So one day I come home from school, and find my mother on her hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor while spaghetti sauce bubbles in a pot on the stove. My father and two brothers are watching TV in the living room: Anthony hasn’t returned from his after-work haunt, the poolroom. Being the only girl, I am expected to make salads, set table, etcetera, but the males get to sit on their asses and watch the tube.”

She remembered venting her rage on the head of lettuce rather than her mother. “So at thirteen, I got the message: a woman was only someone’s wife or mother but had no sense of individuality, no feeling of personal accomplishment.

“At that point, I made a solemn vow. I’m never gonna get married. I’m never gonna let a man use me like a slave. I’ll make lots of money so I can take care of myself, and I’m gonna do it like a man would
.

“It was then I devised a plan for my future. First, a degree in criminal justice; second, a job as an FBI agent; third, promotion to team leader; and fourth, Bureau Chief! I’ll show them, especially my father who was a beat cop all his working life, he who doesn’t think women are as smart as men. I’ll make more money than him and my
stupido
brothers put together!”

“Wow,” Mariah said. “So bitter at such a tender age.” Both women grinned, and Frannie said, “It’s your turn.”

“I took dance lessons when I was a kid,” Mariah said, “And put on shows in the neighborhood, but I let my friends go door to door to sell tickets. I didn’t think anyone would buy anything from me. As long as it was just normal stuff, dancing and singing, my mother didn’t protest. But she made it clear that if I did any ‘tricks’, she’d never let me do a show again.”

Mariah saw the confused scowl on Frannie’s face, and said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you about my, uh, telekinetic abilities as a child.” Frannie’s eyes widened, and Mariah grinned. She then told Frannie about the expulsion from the Providence Street Synagogue, leaving nothing out. Frannie took a deep breath and shook her head without thinking, her subconscious trying to deny something so implausible.

“And finding Amanda Forrester wasn’t the first time I did a
Finding
. I remembered it after finding Kevin O’Reilly. It was the night I found my friend, Marty Zablonski.

“I was at the kitchen table doing homework while mom darned Stephen’s socks. The phone rang. It was Marty’s mother in a panic because he hadn’t come home after his paper route. Mom tried to console Irene, and I wasn’t much help either. Marty hadn’t mentioned any after-school activity to me.

“Then my heart started to thump, and I felt like I couldn’t take in a deep breath. And then I broke out in a cold sweat. I must’ve made a noise ‘cuz mom hung up on Irene and dropped to her knees in front of me. She started screaming for my dad while her hands fluttered in my face.”

Frannie looked stunned, but Mariah just plowed on. “My mother’s voice became muffled and distant. And then I no longer saw her face. I couldn’t hear or see anything in the kitchen because, for some reason, I was no longer there.

“I was standing behind a workbench. Marty was across from me holding a test tube in front of a bare 150-watt light bulb screwed into a desk lamp. His eyes were gleaming, watching a mass of slimy green goop bubble in the bottom of the tube. A really bad smell came from the top in a swirl of green mist, but he ignored it. Also observing the sludge with the same dimwitted rapture was Ambrose “Brainiac” Mulroney, a ten-year-old creep who had skipped a couple of grades and wound up in our seventh grade class.

“We were in Brainiac’s basement, but they couldn’t see me. I recognized the rickety wooden staircase because a week before, the little twerp stood in front of them when he tried to stop me from leaving. He lured me into the cellar by bragging about his latest experiment, and then he tried to kiss me on the
mouth
, for crying out loud. So I shoved him out of the away and headed for those stairs, but he beat me to them. I could
not
believe it when he folded his scrawny arms across his sunken chest and
demanded
I kiss him or he wouldn’t let me leave!”

Frannie’s face lost the bewildered expression and she chortled. Encouraged, Mariah continued.

“I hauled off and cracked the pathetic weenie across his pimply face, and shoved him out of my way. He staggered sideways and howled in pain, but it was his own fault. I was three inches taller and outweighed the horny toad by fifteen pounds: No Contest.

“When I came out of this trance, my mother’s face swam into focus, and she looked panicky. I had no memory of those peculiar physical sensations, so I was confused by mom’s hysteria. And my dad looked nervous. Something else in his eyes—maybe fear?

“Anyway, I gave Marty’s location to my mother, who called Irene. Marty was grounded for the remainder of the school year and gave me the silent treatment, like it was my fault he screwed up.”

Caught up in this daydream, Mariah realized something that had escaped her all these years: no one ever asked how she knew where Marty was. No one in her family, or the Zablonski family, or the Mulroney family. By summer she and Marty were friends again and the incident was forgotten.

“Several days after it happened, my mother forbid me from ever doing any more “parlor tricks.” She informed me that people would see me as a freak, intimating that she thought the same thing. Then, typical of my mother, she refused to speak about it again.”

Mariah stopped to take a drink of tea before she continued. “Getting back to this religious stuff, at least you had God if you wanted to talk. He wasn’t an option in the Carpenter household. When I grew up, I was amazed that people believed in an Omnipotent Being who scribbled their name in his big book of Who’s Who on Earth and controlled their destiny. How could
anyone, no matter how divine, know what everyone was thinking all the time and, get this, simultaneously? Only on the big screen, and to the accompaniment of ear-splitting horns and pounding bass drums. I also figured that death wouldn’t be a consolation, that there was no heavenly reward for people who put up with the injustices of their here and now.”

Inspired by Frannie’s look of amazement, Mariah continued. “I was a pretty self-assured kid at that point, at least for a while, but stuff happened. It started with my mother who just wanted me to conform: ‘Be like everyone else, don’t stick out in a crowd, I know what’s best for you
.
’ I would hear her in my head and retreat into a shell every time I tried to be an individual.”

Mariah stopped and Frannie realized that her friend wasn’t going to continue. Her mind wandered back to the moment of the
Finding
and the bond that had been established with the woman before her.

“Something happened during the
Finding
of Kevin O’Reilly,” Frannie said, glad to see the sadness in Mariah’s eyes change to interest. “It wasn’t just the initial sensations of being squashed, shoved into a funnel, and having my marrow sucked out of my bones. My, uh, spirit, if you will, slipped into the
Joining
willingly. I was proud that I was a necessary part of the process, and had given you what you needed to complete the
Finding
.”

Frannie Manzetti had never felt this close to any woman. The unification of their spirits during the
Finding
of Kevin O’Reilly provided her with an unparalleled experience. She doubted a pregnant woman felt this strong a bond with her unborn infant. No nourishment passing through an umbilical cord could provide sustenance capable of feeding the soul; no maternal joy could compare with the exhilaration Frannie felt when their spirits had entwined. She believed she would never share this deep a rapport with another human being.

The encounter also brought with it a familiarity between them. Frannie had always laughed at psychic phenomena, mind-reading, ESP, all of that crap. But here she was, accepting without reservation. She couldn’t argue with the results of these
Findings
, and it scared her silly.