Piercing The Fold (4 page)

The first shock—a sign in my yard reading FOR SALE in red letters. The second shock—a plaque of even bigger red letters lies diagonally over the previous red letters stating SOLD.

The third shock—the Wise Guys moving trucks being loaded by four burly men dressed in navy blue jumpsuits.

I feel vertigo and clammy. I storm from the car and run past two men moving a desk out of the house. I don’t bother excusing myself as I push past and through the front door.

I holler, “Mom! Dad!”

Boxes line the entryway. No response, just silence.

I yell louder, “Mom!”

I begin to walk from room to room. As I pass, I see boxes and plastic wrap on furniture. I head to the master bedroom. Dad is removing the bedding, and two movers squeeze past me, with a lamp in one hand and a pillow in the other.

I look at my father, dumbfounded. “What is going on, Dad?”

His face is so serious.

Mom comes out of the closet. “Jes. Honey, I know this is a little shocking…”

Sarcastically, I respond, “Just a little, Mom. Where are you going? When did all of this happen?”

Dad and Mom both look at each other. Then they look at me. They approach me and lead me out of the master bedroom toward the living room.

Dad starts, “Jes, Mom and I decided a few months ago that we were ready for a simpler and smaller life. We are going to be empty nesters soon, with Bethany going away for college next year. We don’t need this huge house anymore. We decided that Colorado is a great place for us to retire.”

Dad looks at Mom for reassurance. Mom’s smile is small. She continues, “So we put the house on the market, and a week later, we had a contract on it. The couple who bought the house are moving in next week and are expecting their second child in May. This house is perfect for them. We’re sorry you had to find out like this, honey. We just haven’t found the right time to tell you, with all the stress you have been dealing with.”

Dad adds, “The lack of sleep, nightmares, school, job, all of your responsibilities…we didn’t want to throw in something else for you to worry about.”

The vertigo feeling subsides. But the humming is still audible.

Something is off, not right.

I try to force myself to believe. “It’s fine. I just wish you guys would have warned me. I thought you were getting divorced or something worse like…”

Dad jumps in. “No, no, sweetheart. We are so happy to make this move. We think that we have been hovering too much over both you and Bethany lately.”

Dad looks to Mom. Mom adds, “Dad and I need to find ourselves again. Enjoy each other and travel. We have found the cutest little condo that will allow us to travel and not have to worry about home maintenance.”

Wow. I mean, I did want my mom and dad to back off a bit with the hovering, but I didn’t think they would pick up and move.

“What about Bethany? What is she going to do for the rest of her senior year?”

Mom and Dad look at each other again.

“Bethany will be staying with the Sanford’s, Serena’s family, for the remainder of her senior year. She will spend the summer with us before attending college at the University of Colorado. She already applied and was accepted. She won’t be staying with us; she will need her space to spread her wings.”

I am floored. My parents are allowing my sister to stay with a family for the rest of her senior year? My parents had really changed. How long had I been out of the loop with them?

And Bethany, she didn’t clue me in to any of this. Well, I hadn’t taken the initiative of picking up the phone to call my little sister either, so I couldn’t shift the blame entirely on her. She is probably pissed at me for being so distant. And I completely understand if she is.

“Sweetheart, why do you look so sad?”

“Well, I am a little sad about the house. I mean, we have lived here all of Bethany’s and my life. I’m going to miss this place.” I clear my throat. “But I’m so excited for you guys. You are finally living a life for you two. You have dedicated your lives to raising Bethany and me. It is your time to live now.”

I give a brief smile through my welled up eyes and quivering lips.

Dad and Mom both smile and hug me.

A gruff voice from behind us interrupts our moment. “Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Sera. We have all of the items that are going into storage. We will be back Tuesday of next week to move you folks to Boulder.”

I take that moment to clear the air. I wipe my tears and force a laugh. “It’s not like you’ll be in another country. We’ll see each other on holidays and stuff.” This was true and pretty much how often we were seeing each other now. So it wouldn’t be very different from life as we knew it.

Dad adds, “It seems like things are coming together for you, Jesca. Last night’s breakthrough with your nightmare is a huge step.”

“Yeah, things are coming together. I’m really doing much better.”

Even though the slight humming is still present, I give my parents a smile to reassure them that I am fine.

My parents have a few loose ends to tie up with the movers, so I excuse myself. I tell them I will be stopping by on moving day to see them off. Then, realization kicks in. Everything is coming together for me at the exact same time my family is moving apart. How is that a good thing?

Something is off balance.

It’s like that feeling you get before lightning strikes. My smile turns to a stiff lip of wonder at the coincidence as I walk away from my home.

The cliché cowbell rings as I enter Benson’s to start my shift.

Elisha looks up and sarcastically says, “Hey there. What’s up with you?”

I reply sarcastically, “Well, hello to you, too.” I roll my eyes, as does Elisha. We both have a brief scowl of annoyance that quickly fades into coy smiles. That’s just how it is between us.

Elisha follows me to the back room, where I set down my things.

“Seriously, Jes, what’s up? You look different.”

I look up at Elisha and sigh. “Well, my parents have sold their house and are moving across the country.”

Elisha’s eyes bulge. “What? When did all of this happen? What about Bethany finishing high school? Is she going with them? God, I thought my parents would have been the first to do something like this. Why didn’t they tell you?”

I shake my head in agreement. “I know, right!”

I sit down on the stool nearest her. “I’m happy for them, though.”

“Really, or are you just saying that?”

I look at Elisha, waiting for her to elaborate. She catches on.

“I mean, don’t you think that is bizarre. Your parents have been overly worried about you for the past two weeks. Rightfully so, I might add. They have been calling me and calling me since you were dodging their phone calls and texts. Then, BAM! They decide to move hundreds of miles away from you, and they aren’t one bit nervous or worried about you? This move is happening so quickly, so spur of the moment. Something else is going on here.”

Now that Elisha has reiterated the quickness and coincidental nature of this move right around the time of all the chaos within the past two weeks, I am not taking my earlier episode of concern lightly.

Like clockwork, the six o’clock wave of customers heads into the store. It’s not just a weekday thing. I’ve watched the natural flow of this behavior over the years. People are out to dinner and in town. They decide to stroll and window shop after dinner. They pop in and out of the stores, running into friends, colleagues, neighbors, associates here and there. There is always room on a nightstand for the latest bestseller or classic that was once read in high school or college. That is when they come into our store.

We are in the middle of the wave. I am making brief exchanges with the browsing customers. The vibration starts. It is very slight. Almost indistinguishable. Then the low humming begins. I try to refocus and remain busy with customer conversations. My heart starts to beat faster with nervousness, knowing that this is just the beginning of something that never ends well for me. I check out those that have made their selections, trying to remain busy and distracted from the giant elephant in the room.

7 p.m. rolls around, and the humming has intensified. The vibration in my body has turned into strong tremors. Then the whispers start. The whispers are like swishing in my ears, creating brief dizziness. My heart feels like it is going to burst out of my chest. I feel like I am short circuiting.

I try to fight back by breathing slowly, closing my eyes periodically. The whispers subside briefly. Then they come back with intensity.

The whispers are coming from them, the people here.

I start having hot flashes and feel both nauseous and claustrophobic at the same time. Brightly lit spots start multiplying in my peripheral view and then move over my entire area of vision. Everything begins to spin.

I’m going to pass out.

I hear the cowbell from the front door ring. I turn toward the sound, but by this point, everything is dark. I can’t see anything.

I feel like I am blind. People are talking. The humming becomes louder. The vibration is so strong my skin is tingling with pins and needles. I hear Elisha to my right whisper. “Hey, Jes, you don’t look so good. You’re white as a ghost.”

I feel my body begin to shake.

Then nothing.

When I come to, I hear Elisha talking to someone.

“I don’t know. One minute she was fine. The next, she was walking toward me, white-faced and tipsy. I thought you said her transition would not be so haphazard? Her mind and body will melt down if she keeps going like this, Ezra!”

Ezra?

Someone is pulling me up. I feel warm arms and smell a leather jacket. A cold hand runs over my forehead. I blink my eyes slowly. Elisha is standing in front of me, shooing the crowd away. “Okay, everyone. She’s fine, just a low blood sugar attack. Crazy college students think they can live on one meal of ramen a day.” She laughs a little to try to make light of the situation. “Please keep shopping, and I will ring you up. Our friend Jesca is going to get some real food and rest.”

When I am able, I set myself upright and look at the one comforting me.

Ezra.

“Hi there, Jesca. Did anybody ever tell you that food is a necessity? Elisha says you haven’t eaten today. Tsk, tsk.”

Ezra helps me to my feet.

I look at him with frustrated eyes, but decide to play along. My voice doesn’t hide my anger, though.

“Well, I planned to grab something small after we closed.”

Elisha has her arms crossed over her chest like a protective mother hen.

“Closing time has come and gone for you, sweetheart. Your prof is going to get you some grub. Right, Mr. Kahn?”

“Yes, we’re going to get some food right now.”

The game that they are playing pisses me off. I grit my teeth. “Enough. I heard you while I was coming to. I know that you two know each other.”

Ezra and Elisha look at each other with guilty eyes. A man interrupts from the checkout counter.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

Elisha looks over her shoulder then back at me. She puts her arm on my shoulder. “Hey, text me when you get in, okay.”

She gives me a sorrowful look filled with apologies. I nod and look away. I don’t want to look at her right now. I might say something I will regret later.

Ezra leads me out of the bookstore. The crisp air hits me as soon as the door opens. It helps bring me out of the dizziness I am trying to overcome.

Ezra is on my heels. “That Elisha is a very good friend, Jes. I mean, she seems like she really is protective of you.”

I start to walk more briskly from Benson’s toward Margot’s Deli. “She has been my best friend since we were in kindergarten. She knows everything about me…obviously.”

I give Ezra a sharp look.

Ezra looks down at the concrete as we walk. He blows out his lower lip and messes his hair, making it more out of sorts than it already is.

I see I have ruffled his feathers and decide to push the issue. “What did I say? Oh, you didn’t think I was naïve to the fact that Elisha obviously knows more than she has let on about me. I mean she has been your personal spy, right?”

I growl out of ultimate frustration. “Ahh!”

Ezra steps in front of me to stop my brisk walking.

“Here, let’s get some food at Margot’s. The Rueben is good, but the Club is phenomenal.” Ezra takes hold of my shoulder and leads me into the deli.

Ezra orders for me. He makes sure that Sally packs them to go. I don’t argue. I know that he wants to talk to me about what just happened back at the store, so I let this domineering attribute be for now.

We are walking out of the deli ten minutes later.

“Where are we going?”

Ezra walks briskly, holding the brown sack with our food and drinks. I try to keep up with his long strides.

Why is he not answering me?

I stop in the middle of the sidewalk. “Uh, hello? Where are we going?”

Still walking, Ezra answers me. “We are going to campus. We can eat there and discuss what I should have told you sooner.”

I jog a bit to catch up. “Wait. What did you say?”

I feel the burning start in my throat and travel quickly to the pit of my stomach.

He stops, turns, and looks at me firmly. “We will discuss it when we get there.”

With that, he turns and keeps walking. I follow him closely now. My heart is pounding, wondering what he is going to tell me as soon as we get to his office on campus.

Ezra’s office is substantial for a professor. It looks more along the lines of a dean’s office. We sit at Ezra’s desk opposite each other and eat in silence. I finish quickly, wanting to get on with what he has to say. I stand and clear my side of the desk as the cue to start the conversation. I dispose of my trash and browse the shelves in the office as Ezra eats. My interest settles on an ant farm.

I mumble sarcastically, “Friends of yours?”

I remember having one when I was eight or nine years old. I would sit for long episodes giving each of them names, personalities, and story lines. They each had a distinct job in the farm. Their purpose was dictated by survival. There were bad days with death or a trapped ant that needed saving. There were good days associated with the cooperation of the ants for the greater good, digging a new passageway to the unknown. I was always so excited for the ants when they cleared the new passage. I knew the big picture of this ant farm. However, I was still so proud of my ants’ victories in their small world.

“They are fascinating little creatures, aren’t they?” Ezra is standing a few feet from me. He walks back to his desk and clears his side. “They are creating their own world in there. Each has a purpose. Each has a significant part in the functionality and nature of their survival individually and cumulatively. Some make good choices and some make bad ones. The natural balance of good and bad reveals itself in everything at some point in time, doesn’t it?”

I look at Ezra, now standing next to me peering into the little world he has given to these ants.

Ezra turns and walks around the room. “You know, we are much like those ants.”

I respond with a hint of skepticism. “We are? How is that?”

Ezra turns and walks toward the wall of books on the other side of the room. “Remember our conversation the first time we ran into each other at Margot’s?”

I nod. “Yes. You were talking about wormholes and how they are not impossible and completely plausible with the right amount of negative mass, like a black hole’s event horizon.”

Ezra eyes me with pride of my recollection. “Well, these little ants are in a pursuit just as many of us are. They want to cut out a new tunnel to something different, better, or greater. Sometimes they tunnel and find they have gone nowhere. Sometimes they tunnel, get trapped, and must be saved. Even more, sometimes there is mutiny against the one that is trapped and injured trying to tunnel. The others either save it or kill and eat it to keep their expanding world unpolluted, no barriers or blockages.”

I let out a sound from within. “Ugh. That is disgusting.”

Ezra says, “Yeah, but haven’t we as humans done such abominating actions throughout history? Concentration camps. Elimination of the perceived weaker of the human race.”

I nod and wave my hand. “Okay, point taken. The ant farm analogy is getting a little heavy, don’t you think?”

There is silence for a few moments. Tension instantly becomes thick in the air.
Lightning striking at any moment.

I can’t wait any longer. I walk toward Ezra and stand in the middle of the room with my hands up. “Okay. So hit me with it. Let’s discuss.”

Ezra extends his hand for me to sit. “Have a seat.”

Ezra sits in his oversized side chair. I sit on the love seat and lean forward in anticipation.

Ezra holds his folded hands over his lips for a few moments. Then he slowly lays both of his hands on either arm of the chair. His gaze is steady on me.

“As a child you were adopted by the Sera family. You have a younger sister, biological to the Sera’s. Her name is Bethany. You were raised in the Christian faith. You were raised to respect the arts and sciences. Your best friend is Elisha Montgomery, who also works with you at Benson’s Book Store. Since you were young, you have been having a reoccurring nightmare. One that has become more frequent and vivid in the recent weeks. You are also experiencing unexplainable abilities and advantages…”

I put my hand up to stop him. “Whoa! What? You mean the warped visions and the high-frequency hearing I have are abilities? How do you know about me? My life? My family?”

I feel so violated. I don’t really know Ezra Kahn, other than he was my professor one semester and has been making regular appearances in my life lately. This man could be a stalker, for all I know. He has been following me around town, expressing growing interest in me. I feel the urge to leave quickly. I know that Ezra feels my urge as well.

Ezra puts his hand on his forehead and lets out a half laugh and half cough. “Jes, I’m not stalking you. I am old enough to be your father, for God’s sake. Your parents and I…Well, let’s just say we are very old friends.” Ezra’s face and tone instantly become serious again.

I’m silent, feeling sabotaged all of a sudden. First, my parents are leaving. Then I discover Elisha’s espionage. Now Ezra knows my parents.

My voice quivers with anger. “Okay, you better start explaining your side of this story. I’m about five minutes from getting up and leaving! Enough on what you know about me! Who the hell are you, and how do you know my parents?” I feel my face getting hot and flushed.

Ezra starts, “I am Ezra Kahn, a guardian.”

I wait. I deserve more than that. “Guardian of what? From what? For who? Me?”

Ezra leans forward in his chair. “You took my introduction to physics class. You remember my lengthy unit on quantum physics and time. World to world travel?”

I sit back into the love seat and cross my arms, giving off the vibe that this better be good, because I have no idea where he is going with this.

Ezra continues, “Substantial theories of plausible wormholes, other worlds, space travel. See, Einstein and Rosen’s theory was the catalyst that inspired others to ‘tunnel’ further and pursue the possibilities of such theories.”

Ezra points to the ant farm. “Just as our little friends, there, have been those that have failed to create tunnels, wormholes, because they didn’t have the knowledge. But there was one who had the knowledge. He created a traverse wormhole that could sustain its opening long enough to allow humans to pass to other worlds and galaxies.”

Arms still crossed, I probe where he is going with this. “Why isn’t he sharing his creation, his knowledge?” I shake my head, trying to grasp for a clearer explanation. “What does this have to do with me?”

I get up, grab my bag, and turn to leave.

Ezra raises his voice in an effort to stop me. His sternness makes me turn to look at him. “It has everything to do with who you are, Jes. On this Earth there are those that have chosen pursuits without a care for humanity. And there are those with the purpose of guarding and protecting humanity from the careless. We are the guardians, your parents, me, and you.”