man.”
All the furniture was gone. If the couch wasn’t there and had never been there, then the cushion was also not there.
Slowly, he looked down at his feet. The square cushion he thought he stood on had disappeared. The wood below his socks turned a deep shade of red. The heat coming through his skin registered, and for every sense his mind had understood since he was born, he couldn’t understand this one. He rejected it. Denied it. There was just no possible way to explain what was happening.
Then the pain was too much.
Jared screamed and ran for the door like one of those guys at a Tony Robbins motivational seminar walking on hot coals.
The door wouldn’t budge. He yanked and pulled on it with renewed fervor, but to no avail, the whole time bouncing from foot to foot.
Finally, before he completely collapsed onto the floor, Jared turned from the door in a panic and ran for the kitchen, his feet barely touching the floor in his haste.
The oven still glowed red with its prize, but now the door was open, the remains of an animal inside. He moved closer for a better look.
Then he threw up. All the nerves and all the fear gave way to a clenching of the stomach, dislodging his lunch and tossing the half-dissolved contents onto the floor of the kitchen, where it sizzled and fried. He considered his sanity. Yeah, I’m losing it.
The heat overwhelmed him. Jared lost his balance and fell. He rolled on the floor as the intense heat rushed through his jacket. His hair caught on fire, lighting the dark kitchen with the flames.
Jared screamed and rolled until he hit the wall, batting at his head.
Something lifted him. The pain decreased for a passing second. His mind surrendered to the chaos of uncertainty as he levitated.
One rational thought seeped through . Who’s carrying me?
Chapter 2
Friday, May 18, 2012…
Tessa saw the police car approaching before she heard it.
“Eric,” she shouted down the stairs. “Looks like we have company.”
She set the paintbrush down on the plastic floor cover and took the turpentine with her to the bathroom to wash the paint off her hands. She hated using oil-based paint because of the lingering smell, but until they got the chalet aired out after a long winter closed up tight, she would rather smell paint fumes than the charred smells from last season’s woodstove fires.
She dried her hands on her painter’s apron and headed downstairs as the doorbell rang.
Eric stood close to the door, anticipating the cop’s approach. Before opening the door, he looked at Tessa as she walked down the huge staircase. He frowned, and she shrugged in a don’t ask me gesture.
Eric opened the door.
“Good afternoon, officer. Can we help you?”
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer came dressed in full uniform. He wore the Stetson hat, the pressed shirt and even the red stripes down the leg of his pants. But he had no horse.
Is there a parade in town today or has this guy gone off the reserve?
As Tessa approached the door, he lifted off his hat, and nodded ever so slightly.
“Afternoon, folks. Sorry to bother you. Just wanted to do a routine drive-by to see how things were going.”
Eric shot a look at Tessa, his eyebrows creased. “Everything’s fine here, officer. It’s Banff. It’s beautiful, warm, and we’re in our brand new house in the mountains. Nothing could be more right.”
The cop looked from Eric to Tessa and back to Eric. The expression on his face made Tessa wonder if there was more to the visit he wasn’t telling them.
“Good to hear. I’ll be on my way, but first, here’s my card.” He handed a white business card to Eric. “Call me if you need anything.”
“If there was an emergency, wouldn’t 9-1-1 work just as well?”
Tessa could tell that Eric wanted to know what precipitated the unannounced visit but he was too shy
All the furniture was gone. If the couch wasn’t there and had never been there, then the cushion was also not there.
Slowly, he looked down at his feet. The square cushion he thought he stood on had disappeared. The wood below his socks turned a deep shade of red. The heat coming through his skin registered, and for every sense his mind had understood since he was born, he couldn’t understand this one. He rejected it. Denied it. There was just no possible way to explain what was happening.
Then the pain was too much.
Jared screamed and ran for the door like one of those guys at a Tony Robbins motivational seminar walking on hot coals.
The door wouldn’t budge. He yanked and pulled on it with renewed fervor, but to no avail, the whole time bouncing from foot to foot.
Finally, before he completely collapsed onto the floor, Jared turned from the door in a panic and ran for the kitchen, his feet barely touching the floor in his haste.
The oven still glowed red with its prize, but now the door was open, the remains of an animal inside. He moved closer for a better look.
Then he threw up. All the nerves and all the fear gave way to a clenching of the stomach, dislodging his lunch and tossing the half-dissolved contents onto the floor of the kitchen, where it sizzled and fried. He considered his sanity. Yeah, I’m losing it.
The heat overwhelmed him. Jared lost his balance and fell. He rolled on the floor as the intense heat rushed through his jacket. His hair caught on fire, lighting the dark kitchen with the flames.
Jared screamed and rolled until he hit the wall, batting at his head.
Something lifted him. The pain decreased for a passing second. His mind surrendered to the chaos of uncertainty as he levitated.
One rational thought seeped through . Who’s carrying me?
Chapter 2
Friday, May 18, 2012…
Tessa saw the police car approaching before she heard it.
“Eric,” she shouted down the stairs. “Looks like we have company.”
She set the paintbrush down on the plastic floor cover and took the turpentine with her to the bathroom to wash the paint off her hands. She hated using oil-based paint because of the lingering smell, but until they got the chalet aired out after a long winter closed up tight, she would rather smell paint fumes than the charred smells from last season’s woodstove fires.
She dried her hands on her painter’s apron and headed downstairs as the doorbell rang.
Eric stood close to the door, anticipating the cop’s approach. Before opening the door, he looked at Tessa as she walked down the huge staircase. He frowned, and she shrugged in a don’t ask me gesture.
Eric opened the door.
“Good afternoon, officer. Can we help you?”
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer came dressed in full uniform. He wore the Stetson hat, the pressed shirt and even the red stripes down the leg of his pants. But he had no horse.
Is there a parade in town today or has this guy gone off the reserve?
As Tessa approached the door, he lifted off his hat, and nodded ever so slightly.
“Afternoon, folks. Sorry to bother you. Just wanted to do a routine drive-by to see how things were going.”
Eric shot a look at Tessa, his eyebrows creased. “Everything’s fine here, officer. It’s Banff. It’s beautiful, warm, and we’re in our brand new house in the mountains. Nothing could be more right.”
The cop looked from Eric to Tessa and back to Eric. The expression on his face made Tessa wonder if there was more to the visit he wasn’t telling them.
“Good to hear. I’ll be on my way, but first, here’s my card.” He handed a white business card to Eric. “Call me if you need anything.”
“If there was an emergency, wouldn’t 9-1-1 work just as well?”
Tessa could tell that Eric wanted to know what precipitated the unannounced visit but he was too shy
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