Seven Weeks to Forever, page 13
Noah stretches his legs out in front of him, crossing them at his ankles. It must be nice to be so at ease in a crisis.
“He needs to fall for you and open his heart, so he can develop his energy enough in this life to get to The Life-After. You know that, and you know that he’ll die if you don’t make that happen.” He sounds very matter-of-fact. “You’re doing exactly what you should be and letting your instincts guide you. Trust what you feel, instead of what you tell yourself is right and wrong when you overthink it later.”
I let go of the pillow, my fingers balling into fists. None of this fits together.
“Let me go back now and send someone else,” I say, my voice flat. “There’s still time for him. It’s not like he met someone he never should have and had his destiny changed, like I did. You can figure something out.” I can’t do this to Riley, no matter what Noah believes the outcome will be.
“It’s not as easy as you think it is. You were always part of the plan for Riley, and you leaving without helping him will change his destiny. And what about you and getting back to the Life-After? You know you can’t go back until you’re done here. Your energy isn’t ready yet.”
I try to focus on digging my fingernails into my palms, instead of on what I want to say to him right now. My self-restraint doesn’t seem to matter, though, because he’s reading every one of my thoughts.
“Frustration is an emotion that only exists here in The Before,” he reminds me. “I know you’ve been here for a long time, but remember that your energy is higher than that. You don’t need to give in to it.”
“You’re not leaving me a whole lot of choices here,” I tell him. “I need your help, not a lecture.”
“No,” he shakes his head.
“Is that ‘no’ as in you won’t help me?” I ask.
“It’s no, you need to start helping yourself and rise above this. If you stay attached to the lower energy, you’ll just fuel it with more energy and keep going down.”
“That’s encouraging.” I set the throw pillow down beside me.
“It was supposed to snap you out of this,” he replies.
I bite back the words I want to say, my hands twisting together in my lap while I try to think of how I can make him understand. Nothing comes to mind.
“I can’t do this, and I don’t believe that me leaving now will change Riley’s destiny, at least not in a way you can’t fix. I know you can fix it. Just please let me go back.”
I can feel his eyes on me, even though mine are focused firmly on the floor.
“You’ll be back in a few weeks,” he says. “This is what you’re here for.”
“To sit on my sofa, arguing with you?
“To help Riley.” I guess he’s done with trying to scold me.
I flop back against the sofa cushions. “How am I supposed to help anyone when I’m a complete wreck?”
“You know you can’t go back without finishing your work here.” His voice is quiet, but it’s also stern. “You need to learn how to control your energy and get it back up when you feel it sinking. Focus on that and you’ll succeed at what you came here to do.”
I shake my head, wondering why he can’t just accept that what I’m telling him is the truth. If I could do what he’s telling me to do, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
“This is different,” I say. “The energy is stronger than me.”
“It’s not different. You’ve just never had a deep energy connection with anyone during your time back here, because you’ve refused to make friends or become close to other people. That would have helped.”
I definitely don’t want to go here. We’ve been arguing about this for years. I rub the bridge of my nose.
“That’s not true. I was close to Selena.”
“Uh-huh, and we both know what happened there. You pushed her away the first chance you had.”
“I was protecting her. Why would I let someone get close to me when I knew I was leaving and that they wouldn’t understand what dying really is?”
“You weren’t protecting her. You were protecting yourself.”
I could recite the rest of this argument word-for-word. Both of us know it’s pointless. He doesn’t get it and he never will. Of course, he thinks the same thing of me. I don’t even have to hear his thoughts to know that. Time to skip to the part where we always end this.
“Let’s say you’re right, even though you’re not,” I say. “What am I supposed to do about it now? Go out and get some instant friends?”
“It’s a little late now for easing into it.”
“That’s helpful.” I let my head settle against the back of the sofa.
“You’re just going to have to stay in tune with yourself. I need you to recognize when your energy is being lowered so you can separate yourself from it and raise it back up before you get like this.” I don’t answer, and he speaks again. “Starting now.”
As if it’s that easy. I’m sure my doubt is etched all over my face.
I hear him get to his feet and a moment later he sits down beside me on the sofa. “Take my hand,” he says, his hand coming to rest on top of mine.
I do as I’m told, too tired to ask why. He grasps my hand between both of his and a feeling of calm surges through me.
“Close your eyes and focus,” he tells me.
Even behind my closed eyes, I can see the sparks of golden light being infused into my energy. It goes on for what seems like hours, even though it’s probably only a few minutes. When the light fades away, I sit with my eyes still closed until I hear Noah’s voice.
“Welcome to your first energy transfusion. How do you feel?”
I blink a few times, letting the room come into focus. The edges of my mind feel fuzzy, but I’m calm. I wouldn’t say I’m happy, exactly, but I feel better than I did before.
I shift my eyes over to him and have to blink again. Something doesn’t look right. It’s almost as if there’s a haze around him. Blinking doesn’t clear it, though, and after a moment I realize it’s his energy. It’s weaker, the glow more faint than I’ve ever seen it. He must have given me a lot.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He nods, but I can tell how hard it is for him to do it. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get back for a while.”
He’s drained, and it’s because of me. “I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’ll try to keep your energy level strong. You don’t have much longer to go.” He picks up his fedora from the table and I sense that it takes a lot of effort. Just something else to feel guilty for, I guess.
“I will.” I don’t really believe what I’m promising, but I don’t know what else to say.
“Okay.” He dons his hat, smiling at me. His face is tired. A second later, he’s gone.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hey, come sit with us.” Lauren, my yoga classmate, pats the floor beside her mat.
It takes me a second or two to realize that she’s talking to me. I wave at her from inside the doorway, then head in her direction. I’ve been sitting close to Lauren and a few other people who are usually in this spot for a couple of weeks, even talking to them sometimes, but this is the first time anyone has invited me to sit with them.
“Thanks,” I say, rolling out my mat on the floor beside her. When I turn around to put my purse behind me, I see Selena sitting in the corner of the room, watching me. She turns her head away when I look in her direction.
I’m sure she must take classes if she works here, I’ve just never seen her in Amarleen’s class before. She’s usually working at the front desk. Her words from our conversation in the bathroom spring into my mind. If you hurt Riley even a little bit, you won’t be coming back here. I wonder if she’s talked to Riley since then and knows that he took me to see John’s band. Maybe she’s here to keep an eye on me.
“You’re just in time,” Lauren sings from beside me. The glee in her voice is enough to distract me from Selena.
“In time for what?” I ask, bringing my legs out in front of me. I lean over and grab hold of my toes with my hands, trying to bring my nose down to touch my knees. Not quite. I’m halfway there, though, and that’s progress from a couple of weeks ago.
“We’re making plans for the yoga retreat. You should come with us.”
“Retreat?” I echo. “I haven’t heard about it.”
“You’ll love it,” she tells me, her face lighting up. “It’s the most fun weekend of the year. You should definitely come if you can.”
“When is it?” I ask.
“It’s not for another four weeks, but you get the discounted rate if you sign up now.”
Four weeks. I won’t be here then. I try to keep a smile on my face while I wrack my brain for something to say, since it sure can’t be the truth.
“I think I’m going to be out of town. I’ll let you know if that changes, though.” That’s not really a lie. Out of town means that I won’t be here, in L.A. The Life-After counts.
The classroom gets quiet then. I turn my head to the stage to see Amarleen bringing the microphone closer to her.
She smiles at all of us. “Sat Nam. Good morning.” We return her greeting, sitting still on our mats.
She reaches for a piece of note paper that’s in front of her on the stage and reads it silently. Then she looks out over the class. I follow her eyes and see them land on a girl who sits on the opposite side of the room from where I sit with Lauren. I hadn’t noticed her until now. I would have, if I’d been paying attention to the energy in the room when I walked in. The girl’s energy is weak, and I can see that it’s the color of grief. Her face is etched with sadness.
“A man close to someone in this room passed away just a couple of nights ago,” Amarleen says, still looking at the girl. “When a soul leaves their body, we often chant the word ‘Akal’ three times. It’s a way for us to help send the soul home and help them transition to what’s next.” She turns her head to look at the rest of us in the room, her eyes stopping for a moment to hold mine. “Can we do that?”
I nod, watching most of the people around me do the same. The room fills with the sound of our voices, echoing from floor to ceiling and bouncing across the walls. The girl’s eyes fill with tears when we’ve finished. She reaches for a tissue and uses it to wipe a teardrop that rolls down her cheek.
I want to tell her that the man she cares about is fine and that his life hasn’t ended, but only just begun. If I could, I’d tell her that I’ll be joining him soon, but she can talk to him any time she wants to and he’ll hear her. That he knows she’s here, and he knows we’re sending him blessings. Most of all, I want to tell her that he’s happier now than he ever was in The Before, because that’s just the way it works in The Life-After.
I can’t, though. So I connect my energy to hers for just a few moments instead, hoping it will strengthen her energy and help her heal. Amarleen turns her head to me just before I pull my energy back, giving me a small nod.
“Come talk to me after class?” she says, keeping her eyes on me. I nod. She turns back to the microphone and explains the first warm-up exercise. When I move to lie down on my back, I see Selena watching me again.
Selena leaves in a hurry once class is over. She doesn’t look at me when she brushes by, instead keeping her eyes fixed on a spot in front of her. I linger, waiting for everyone else to leave the room so I can talk to Amarleen. Lauren rolls up her mat, touching my arm as she stands up.
“A few of us are going to have brunch outside on the patio, if you can stay.”
I see Amarleen watching us. I nod at Lauren. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
She smiles and heads for the exit. Once she’s through the doorway, I stand up and walk over to the stage. This is probably about the energy I sent out at the beginning of class. I can’t tell if Amarleen approves of what I did, or if I’m in trouble.
“Can you close the door?” Amarleen asks.
I nod, backtracking to the door. I close it and then turn around again, making my way back to the stage.
“Come sit by me,” she says. I do as she asks.
“You’re doing really well, you know,” she begins.
“Thank you,” I say. I can’t say I’m as confident about that as she is.
“It looks like you’ve found some friends here in class,” she continues.
“Kind of, I guess.” I’m not sure if I can call a few conversations and an invitation to a yoga retreat an actual friendship. It might be the beginnings of one, but it won’t get very far and that’s good. Lauren won’t be hurt when I’m gone.
“Enjoy your friends here,” she tells me. I start to speak again, but she’s not finished. “I really mean that. Enjoy them, and enjoy your time with them. Don’t be afraid of getting close. They can handle it, even if you don’t think they can.”
I blink hard. I realize then that she knows I’m leaving here soon. That shouldn’t surprise me, I guess.
“The young man, too,” she says. “Don’t be afraid of getting close to him, either.”
“The young man?” I repeat.
“You call him Riley when you think about him. Which is a lot, by the way.”
I don’t have anything to say to that, because I know it’s true. I look down at my legs.
“You keep yourself pretty distant from most people, don’t you?” she continues. I know it’s an observation, not a question. She’s been paying attention. I clear my throat. She waits for me to find my voice.
“I—I can’t let people get close to me,” I stutter. “It’s not good for them.” I hope she won’t ask me why, although I sense she already knows.
“Or you can’t let yourself get close to them.” Her voice is gentle.
“Have you been talking to Noah?” I ask. That sure sounds like something that would come from him.
“No, I’ve just been watching you. I can tell you’re afraid of what getting close to someone will to do you. Like with Selena.”
My head snaps up. Either she saw how Selena was looking at me in class, or she remembers that we were avoiding each other at the front desk. Maybe both. I don’t see how she could be getting this from just those two things, though. Not unless she overheard our conversation in the bathroom the other week. Now I’m positive that Noah said something to her.
“Noah didn’t tell me anything,” she says, reading my thoughts. “I’ve seen the energy between you and Selena. It tells me you were close once, and for a long time. You had a falling out, I’m guessing?”
“Sort of.” I pause, wondering if there’s an easy way to explain this. Then I remember that she can hear my thoughts, which makes me wonder if she can also see my memories if she tunes into my energy. Noah can. I look up at her, and she gives me an encouraging smile. I think she already knows what I’m going to ask her.
“Can I show you, if I think of the memory that I have?”
She nods. “I should be able to see it. Just close your eyes and relax, and picture what you want me to see.”
I close my eyes and breathe slowly and deeply. When my mind is completely still, I let an image of myself as a little girl surface. It’s faint at first, then it gets stronger until I’m right there in the memory, watching it all unfold in front of me.
I’m sitting on a swing set in my aunt and uncle’s backyard, the new metal poles a sparkly pink that I love. Someone came to set it up yesterday, and it’s only the second time I’ve sat on one of the white plastic seats. I’m six years old and I haven’t been living with my aunt and uncle for very long.
My uncle stands behind me, making sure that I’m steady on the seat and that I won’t fall off. He doesn’t know that no harm would come to me even if I did take a tumble, but it’s a secret I have to keep for my own. My aunt was outside with us until a couple of minutes ago, but she went inside when our housekeeper came to tell her there was someone at the door.
I try to push myself on the swing with my legs. The swing is a little too high, though. My toes barely touch the ground.
"Need some help?" my uncle asks. I nod. He takes the chains of the swing in his hand and gives me a small push, just enough to help me rock back and forth but not enough to send me sailing through the air. I’m about to ask him to push the swing harder when my aunt appears in the doorway that opens out to the backyard.
My aunt isn’t alone. There’s a woman standing beside her. She holds the hand of a girl who looks to be about my age. The girl stares at me from the doorway until the woman kneels down and says something to her, and then gestures to me.
The girl’s eyes light up, and then she races across the lawn toward me. She’s at my side within seconds, hopping onto the swing beside me.
“I’m Selena,” she says, taking hold of the chains on either side of her swing. She’s a little bit taller than me and uses her feet to start pushing the swing.
“I’m Cassidy,” I tell her. My swing isn’t going anywhere so I watch her swing back and forth, her dark curls bouncing around her face.
“Selena, don’t forget what we brought with us,” the woman calls from across the yard.
Selena hops off the swing and goes scampering back over to her. The woman hands her a rectangular package wrapped in rainbow foil and a ton of curled ribbons. I get off of the swing and take a few steps toward them. Selena rushes to meet me, her eyes sparkling and her face eager as I open the gift. It’s a princess doll.
“I have one too,” Selena says. “It’s my favorite. We can play with them together and pretend they’re twin sisters.”
And that’s exactly what we did. I fast forward in time, another memory surfacing from my first day at my new school. Selena and I sit at desks beside each other, something we did whenever we could until we were assigned to different classes in junior high.
More pictures of Selena and me together flash through my mind, stopping when we’re in the tenth grade. Selena’s in my bedroom, tears streaming down her face. I hug her, asking what’s wrong, but she starts to sputter and choke every time she speaks. I keep hugging her until she calms down enough for her sobs to become sniffles.
