Grasping at Eternity (The Kindrily) Read online

  Dreary clouds passed by my airplane window. Krista sat beside me, trying to fix the wobbly latch of her tray table. We’d only been on the plane for twenty minutes, but my emotional claustrophobia was as strong as ever. Sadness and guilt had been suffocating me all day every day until I wanted to permanently stop breathing. So when my aunt and uncle offered me a chance to escape for the weekend and meet my godmother, I took it.

  I never even knew I had a godmother. My parents used to live in Arizona, but they moved to Maryland after Mikey and I turned one. My uncle said Louise Luna was my mother’s childhood best friend, but they hadn’t spoken in over a decade. My aunt and uncle didn’t want me moving away, but this Louise lady insisted that she was my legally appointed guardian and convinced them that my mother would want me to consider my options.

  I just wanted to get away. I didn’t know what awaited me in Sedona, but it wouldn’t be pieces of my past. No guilt or reminders of my old life.

  “I never said goodbye.”

  Krista blinked her big brown eyes like she was surprised to hear me speak. I hadn’t said much the last few weeks. “To my parents? You said goodbye.”

  “No. Last time I saw Mom and Dad I gave them dirty looks and stormed out of the house. How could angry silence be the last thing I said to them?”

  “What about at the cemetery? You stood there a long time. I’m sure they heard everything you said.”

  Imagining my parents and Mikey stretched out in coffins freaked me out, so I was relieved that the funerals took place while I was in a coma. Aunt Sandy had stood over a plot of newly laid grass and told me it was Mikey’s. A bunch of sunflowers sat in a metal vase by her feet. No way would Mikey want a bunch of flowers. A bouquet of Tootsie Roll Pops or a case of Orange Gatorade? Sure. Sunflowers? No way.

  My brother and parents couldn’t be covered in dirt, sentenced to darkness and living with bugs. I kept picturing them alive: smiling, laughing, dancing, and talking about when we would adopt a dog or what we needed from the grocery store. None of those things could happen if they were buried in the earth.

  I fought back tears. “Talking to their tombstones doesn’t count.”

  “Sure it does. Spirits hang around awhile before they cross over. They know how much you miss them.”

  I shook my head, unable to look at Krista. I had to tell her. We didn’t keep secrets from each other, and I’d already bottled up the truth too long. “That night, I wished on a star that they’d leave me alone. Seconds later those men broke into our house and—”

  “Whoa, Pudding, don’t be ridiculous.” She turned my chin so I faced her. “You didn’t wish for them to die.”

  “But I ran away. Mikey was still alive. I should’ve helped him, but I ran out of the house. Mom and Dad might’ve been alive too.” I searched Krista’s gaze for blame. Even though I couldn’t find any, she probably wondered if I would’ve left her to die too. “I should’ve grabbed a knife, or…done something. Being alive is my punishment.”

  “You aren’t being punished. Sometimes terrible things happen.” She pushed a stray hair behind my ear. “The universe works in mysterious and heartbreaking ways.”

  I faced the window again.

  Outside, gray clouds stretched to infinity. Were my parents and Mikey out there somewhere? I imagined them soaring like birds through the heavens, and wondered how, in a sky so endless, could there be no room for me?

  I lowered the plastic window shade and let the roar of engines lull me to sleep.

  ∞

  Unexpectedly, in all of his breathtaking gorgeousness, my angel of death was back.

  In my dream, he strutted through a parking lot, looking less like an angel and more like a movie star. He was six feet tall with a confident swagger. I appreciate those who stand out in a crowd, but he surpassed that. Crowds would part and roll out a red carpet just so this guy could have a VIP path to heaven. I’d be the invisible wallflower who got trampled by paparazzi and his fans.

  He’d been at my side when I first woke up from my coma, standing next to Krista like he was there to take me. But then he vanished and I hadn’t seen him since. Why would he take my family but leave me behind?

  He pulled out a cell phone and looked at the sky. “Maryah’s flight took off safely. I’m coming home.”

  It was only a dream, but I smiled when he said my name correctly. In real life most people butchered the pronunciation. Mariah is the common spelling, but my mother wanted me to be “special.”

  He tucked his phone into his jacket and climbed onto a motorcycle, pulling a helmet over his short, dark chocolate hair. When he started the engine, I jumped in front of the bike and grabbed his handle bars, not wanting him to disappear again. Through the shield of his helmet, his spellbinding green eyes blindly stared past me.

  “I could get lost in your eyes for centuries,” I confessed.

  His engine rumbled to life, and he drove through me. I followed him, hovering above him as he turned down a deserted road.

  Up ahead, a barrier with a large sign warned that the road was closed. Movie-star angel man swerved around it, accelerating to a speed not possible in real life. Another sign read Bridge Closed. The road ended where a dilapidated bridge dropped off into a dried-up river.

  “Slow down!” I yelled, as if he could hear me over the roaring motorcycle—or like anything in dreams ever mattered.

  He gunned the gas one last time. The bike launched off the bridge and flew through the air. Right before he would have crashed into the ground below, he and the motorcycle instantly disappeared.

  I floated there, staring at the barren valley. “When you get back to heaven, tell my family I’m waiting for them.”

  I don’t know why I said it. He was gone. And so was my family.

  A NOT-SO-NEW BEGINNING

  Maryah

  We walked off the jetway and I paused at a row of chairs to set my bag down. “This was a stupid idea. I can’t meet a bunch of strangers. Look at me. I’m a train wreck.”

  “You do look a little derailed,” Krista teased. “But they don’t care how you look. It’s your soul they love.”

  “They don’t even know me. Besides, I feel like I lost my soul.”

  “It’s there. It’s just going to take us a while to get it to shine again.” She smoothed my disheveled hair. “Your hair on the other hand...”

  My long hair was the only pretty thing about me, but even that had been taken away. A section had to be shaved off before my surgery. My aunt cut the rest in layers until it was shoulder length because she claimed my short patch wasn’t as noticeable. I swatted Krista’s hands away and put on Mikey’s favorite Ravens hat.

  “Good idea.” She tugged on the rim. “It’ll hide the grease.”

  “And the short patch,” I grumbled.

  “It’s grown out enough that no one will notice.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Her Pocahontas hair looked flawless. Krista had Egyptian ancestors on her mother’s side and she was exotically beautiful. What I wouldn’t give to trade my tissue paper complexion for her smooth, olive skin.

  I eyed the check-in desk a couple feet away. “Let’s buy a ticket back to Baltimore. I can’t do this.”

  “Your instincts told you to come to Sedona, and your instincts are never wrong.” She handed me my duffel bag. “Come on, something tells me we’ll like these people.”

  I took a deep breath and forced my feet to carry me forward.

  We spotted Louise Luna at the end of the terminal.

  My aunt had showed me old pictures of her, and Louise hadn’t changed much. She held tulips and a heart-shaped balloon. I could see why my mother loved her, but I still wanted to run in the opposite direction.

  “You okay?” Krista asked.

  I nodded, but my legs felt like they had anchors tied to them.

  Louise waved as we got closer. Circular sunglasses covered her eyes, but I suspected she was giving me the poor-orphan look. She had a definite hippie vibe going on
. A medium bob of silky brown hair framed her makeup-free face, and a wooden necklace hung low against her gauzy—probably earth-friendly fiber—shirt. Her flowing skirt grazed the tops of her open-toed sandals.

  A tall bronze-skinned man towered behind her with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. His dark hair draped like a curtain on either side of his navy blue sunglasses.

  Before I could say hello, Krista steamrolled Louise with a hug. What the? Why would Krista hug a total stranger like that?

  Louise squeezed Krista tight. “We’re so happy to have you girls here.”

  When they let go of each other, Louise removed her glasses, placed her hands on either side of my face, and looked into my eyes.

  “Ah, Maryah, how I have waited for this day.”

  Double what the? I flinched, trying to silence the annoying buzzing in my ears. Spasms of pain pulsed behind my temples. Worst time ever for one of my famous headaches to start.

  Louise hugged me, and the balloon thumped against the rim of my hat. “I’m so sad about what happened to your parents.”

  My heart cracked. “And Mikey.”

  “Yes, of course, and Michael. Such a terrible tragedy.”

  She handed me the embarrassingly large bouquet of tulips attached to an annoying balloon that kept floating at my head. “These are for you.”

  “Um, thank you.”

  She leaned against the dark-haired man and patted his cheek. “This is my better half, Anthony.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Anthony.”

  “Just Anthony.” He spoke gruffly. “Great to see you, girls. How was your flight?”

  Krista groaned. “Long.”

  “I see your casts are off.” Louise practically petted my arm.

  Why was everyone so touchy feely? I tucked my hand behind my duffel bag. “My arm and leg are fine, so my aunt convinced the doctors to remove them yesterday.”

  “Her doctors were drama queens,” Krista said. “They exaggerated about how severe her injuries were then acted all surprised and proud of themselves when she bounced back so fast.”

  “Glad you healed so quickly.” Louise grinned at Krista then put her arm around me. “Let’s get your bags and take you home.”

  We waited by the luggage carousel for our suitcases while Anthony left to pull the car around. Much to my relief, Louise and Krista made small talk so I didn’t have to. We found Anthony in the loading zone, leaning against an old but exquisite convertible.

  “Nice car,” I said with sincerity.

  “Thank you. She’s a 1964 ½ Mustang, original Guardsman Blue color.” He shoved my balloon and our suitcases into the trunk.

  “My parents had a ‘57 Desoto. We rode in it every weekend.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “My uncle sold it. Apparently medical bills and college funds are more important than beloved, priceless cars.” I didn’t hide my sarcasm.

  “That’s a shame.” Anthony shook his head and opened the passenger side door.

  Krista and I climbed in the back then he assisted Louise into the passenger seat. It reminded me of the way my father treated my mother—with old-fashioned manners.

  We pulled out of the airport and I sighed. Arizona—right back where I started. How ironic if I returned to my birthplace only to die of heartbreak.

  At first Phoenix was like any other city, except for the brown mountains in the distance and an occasional palm tree. Further out of the city, a sign said “Carefree Highway.” I snickered at its nauseatingly cheerful name.

  Cacti popped up everywhere. I didn’t want to be interested in what Arizona looked like but I couldn’t resist. The longer we drove, the more unique the scenery became.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Krista cooed.

  The car’s engine was loud, and with the top down, it would’ve been difficult to carry a conversation. Instead, we enjoyed the warm Arizona sun and the wind in our hair while shades of orange, brown, and green surrounded us.

  The mountains kept growing larger and at times it felt like we were driving through them. A little over an hour into the drive, my ears popped. I pictured Arizona as a flat desert, so I felt like an idiot when a sign revealed we were at an elevation of 4,000 feet. I swallowed a few times, trying to release the pressure in my ears. The air tasted crisp and clean.

  We exited the main highway and huge red rock formations came into view. I’d seen a lot of the East Coast, and had visited my father’s hometown in England, but never experienced any place like Sedona. The contrast of the bright red rocks against the cerulean sky was mesmerizing.

  After turning onto a narrow road, we climbed a long winding driveway. My eyes bugged when I saw the huge house.

  Anthony parked in front of a large garage. The drive had taken almost two hours, but Louise and Anthony held hands the whole time—just like my parents used to do.

  Krista and I followed Louise to a gated archway, flanked on either side by a chest-high wall of stones. Above the gate hung a carved sign, Peace to All Who Enter Here.

  “This is your house?” I asked with disbelief.

  “Well,” Louise hesitated, “think of it as your home.”

  I peered through the iron bars of the gate, staring at the terracotta-colored house behind it. Shades of green accented the roof, doors, and windows.

  Anthony pushed the gate open, and we crossed the threshold of a private oasis. A main path led to the entrance of the house, but smaller paths snaked off in random directions. Yards in Maryland were mostly grass, but in Sedona, they were red dirt or gravel and pebbles. Boulders sat amongst pots of colorful flowers. I spotted a fountain, made of large dark stones with a Buddha statue sitting on top.

  Wind chimes tinkled above us as we stepped onto the front porch, covered by a wooden pergola. The second I passed through the double doors I knew I’d been here before. My parents must’ve brought me when I was a baby. My bionic memory skills were at their finest.

  “It’s lovely,” Krista said.

  “Thank you. We like it.” Louise glanced over the spacious area in front of us.

  A double-sided fireplace divided the space into two rooms. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked breathtaking red rock formations and cliff sides. Colors were everywhere: bright area rugs covering tile floors, sculptures of lizards and birds on the walls, paintings, masks, tiled mirrors. Flowers and plants blossomed in every corner and on every table.

  An unusual scent wafted through the air—floral yet earthy. Just like how Louise smelled when she hugged me. Music played softly: flutes, drums, and other instruments I didn’t recognize, but the song fit the feel of the house. The front door thudded shut behind us.

  Louise stood at my side but Anthony had disappeared. “Would you like a tour?”

  “Sure.” Krista and I answered in surround sound.

  Louise guided us through an archway into a colossal kitchen. Beyond the kitchen, fourteen chairs circled the biggest table I’d ever seen.

  Krista nudged my shoulder and pointed at the ceiling. “Look how gorgeous.”

  I knew about the skylight before I looked up. A giant star made from colored glass produced beams of light that shone on the table. I hid my smile, knowing no one would believe me if I claimed to remember that far back. I would’ve been a year old at most. Even I had trouble believing it.

  “This is where we gather for special meals and meetings.” Louise rested her hands proudly on the wooden surface. “We have a large family.”

  I hoped I’d never have to sit at a table with so many strangers, but it was impressive.

  “Louise.” Krista fidgeted. “May I use your bathroom?”

  “Down that hall and to the right.”

  Krista left and I momentarily panicked at the thought of being left alone with Louise, but she just smiled and waved me down another hall.

  Abstract paintings decorated most of the walls. Many looked old, while others looked newer. They were full of vivid streaks and swirls of colors. Some shined like metal, o
thers shimmered and sparkled.

  “These paintings are amazing.”

  “Thank you very much.” Louise placed her hands over her chest. “Each one holds a special place in my heart.”

  “Are they all by the same artist?”

  “Yes, I painted all of them.”

  “You painted them?”

  She laughed. “Is it so surprising that I can paint?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—it’s just—I’ve never seen paintings like that. You should sell them. You’d make a fortune.”

  “Oh, I could never sell these.” She touched one with admiration. “Each one is an extension of my soul. I add details as needed, but they’re never finished. They are all works in progress.”

  “You’re very talented.”

  “Thank you. What about you? What’s your talent?”

  “Ha!” I snickered. “I have no talent whatsoever. My dad tried coaxing some creativity out of me, but I’m hopeless.”

  “Oh, I don’t believe that. Everyone has a gift. It’s a matter of figuring out what yours is and using it for good—and to the best of your ability.”

  “Don’t hold your breath. I’m pretty useless.”

  Louise made a discerning humming noise but didn’t say anything else. I noticed there were no photographs anywhere. Louise seemed like such a family-oriented person, I expected to see pictures plastered all over the place.

  “Mine and Anthony’s room,” she announced, pausing at a set of open doors.

  Suns, moons, and stars decorated the large room. Their midnight blue king-sized bed was centered on the far wall with a plaque above it that said, Love knows no limits.

  A lump formed in my throat. My parents had the same saying in their room. I didn’t plan on so many reminders of home. I’d be fighting back tears no matter where I lived.

  We continued down the wide hallway and I stopped at a closed door. I had an overwhelming desire to look inside, but I knew that would be rude.