Paradox Love: Paradox Love Book 1 (7 page)

Then, after straining against the flashing lights in her eyes, the left began to clear, just a little.  She could see the shadows of objects around her.  Nothing crisp, but she could see shadows. 

For the first time in her young life, she was experiencing the sadness of aloneness.  For even though abandoned as a young dog, she’d had her brothers.  And then there was Sue and the boy in the grass.  She’d never felt so alone. 

The boy in the grass
.  That instinct to reach him conjured up a mix of primal animal determination and raw desperation.  She didn’t quite understand that she was dying, but she knew she had to go, even more now that she was in such a state.  She didn’t want to feel alone.  And at this time more than any other, she felt so far away.  She struggled to move herself to stand.  The flashing lights continued as she strained to see toward the end of the alleyway.  She could not place her left foot to the ground and hobbled forward on her other three paws.

Her GPS still worked.  She knew which way to go and that it wasn’t much farther than where she'd found him before.  The going was slow.  She made her way down the first street.  Yes, this was right.  This was the right way.  But although her heart carried all the determination she needed, her body was not up to the task.  She hobbled forward a little more, first stopping after every several steps, then every few.  And now, not even that.  Now she fought to stand.  Just to stand. 

She didn’t hear the car pull to the side of the road, the driver coming to her side.

“You poor thing,” he said as he stooped to examine her more closely.

It was a man.  That was the only similarity to the person she sought.  Just that he was a man. 

She stood there without the strength to acknowledge him.  She stood there fighting with each breath to stay up, to stay on her feet.  He was afraid to touch her. 

The scent of the man was in her nostrils, but it wasn’t right.  He wasn’t the right one.  There were no more steps forward.  She slumped down, unable to support herself as the weight of her body pushed against her broken leg.  She was moaning in pain as the man finally stooped down to touch her. 

He looked in her eyes and understood instantly that there was no chance.  There was a glassiness in her eyes and as he moved to cradle her, he felt her skull press in where it was fractured.  She was wearing a tag.  She belonged to someone.  He was not looking forward to calling her owner.

“Noel.  Noel.  Good girl.  Noel, I know you’re loved.  I know somebody loves you.”

The line of words, the mixed up string of sounds was the last thing she heard before she gave in and let go.

CHAPTER seven

             
The light filled corridor was before her once again, all doors closed, save for the one on the other end, Gabe’s door.  She inhaled deeply, the expectation of that sharp pain on her mind.  And it was there, as her hands rose to her chest.  But it was not the same.  The bowling ball was cut in half, half of it gone.  She took a sudden unexpected inward breath in response, shocked at how much it had decreased. 

There was a mix of relief and a twinge of panic.  She’d been with Luke.  She’d felt him.  She’d been able to express that she loved him.  And in doing so, she’d let go some.  She fought the urge to once again stoop to the floor in realization of what was occurring.  She placed her hands on her hips, as if the action would help keep her upright.  She had known this was coming, the letting go, but she wasn’t ready. 

Once again, she employed practiced breathing to keep herself calm.  This time was different than the first.  She’d remembered nothing of the first transference.  This time she remembered more.  Not human memories exactly, not with all the understanding of a human.  But she knew she
had
been with Luke.  Her memories were of the smell of him, the taste of his skin, the feel of his hands and his affections for her.  How remarkable that was.  What a gift. 

She owed Gabe for that.  And yet she couldn’t bring herself to move toward the open door to his office.  Maybe it should have been enough, that little bit of time on Earth.  Maybe it should have been enough to have that one last chance.  Perhaps it was utterly selfish to want more, but she did.  Finally, she stepped forward toward his door.

For the first time, she entered Gabe’s office with a smile on her face, bringing an instant smile to his face as well.  Success. 

“Hi, Grace.”

“Hello.”

“You’re different this time.”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad.  And you have some memories to take with you, too.”

“Yes.”

“So it’s working.”

“I’d say so, yes.”

“Good.  And the pain?”

She broke her gaze and hesitated in her response.

“It’s less now?”

She wanted to lie to him.

“Uh-huh.”

“But that’s a mixed blessing.”

“Yes.”

“I understand.”  The compassion in his voice was palpable. 

This was the absolute most wonderful feeling and at the same time, it made her sick. 

“I just wish I understood all of this a little better, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all of it.  Like why do you have to say goodbye?  If you know someone is your soul mate, why, why, why would you be forced to leave them?  Why do terrible things happen to good people?  Why do
people
do terrible things?”

“Ah, I see.  Well Grace, I’m your counselor, not your instructor.”

“I know.  And I’m glad you are.”

She looked into his face again.  Today his eyes were the color of blue glaciers reflecting against a green sea.  They were deep.  They held truths so mysterious that she could not begin to fathom how complex those secrets were.  And yet, he never made her feel foolish.  Always validated her feelings.  He was everything a counselor should be.

“It’ll be easier to understand once you’ve had your assessment.”

“I believe you.” 

That was the price to be paid.  Because she refused to move on, she wouldn’t be able to fully understand.  She couldn’t have it both ways.  At this moment, she had the education level of a kindergartener.  With her assessment, would come grad school, a doctorate, ascension, quite literally. 

For the first time, there was actually the slightest temptation to just do it.  Take the assessment.  She wanted to know more.  She craved understanding. 

It was a brief flash.  It could wait.

“You mentioned instructors.  Do I have instructors?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Is that what all these doors are?  Classrooms?”

“Very good, Grace.  Yes.”

“And are there students and instructors in each one?  Is school in session?”

His smile continued, even as he answered her question.

“No other students, Grace.  Just you.”

“This whole place is just for me?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, so many classrooms.  How many instructors do I have?”

“Hundreds.”

That was stunning.  Hundreds of instructors. 

“Why?”

“That’s how important you are, how precious.”

“But not more than anyone else, right?  I mean, everyone must have the same.”

“Everyone has precisely what it is that she or she needs.  There’s not necessarily an equivalence,  but yes, each soul is equally precious.”

“So, there are some people with fewer classrooms, fewer instructors?”

“That’s right.  Or none at all.”

“And me, why do I have so many?  Am I a slow learner or something?”

Gabe couldn’t withhold a chuckle.  “No, not at all.  The opposite, actually.  You’re an insatiable learner, so your corridor here is sufficiently staffed to meet your needs.”

“That’s amazing.”

“It is.  And yet, why shouldn’t it be?”

“I guess I’m not used to feeling that important.”

“That’s only because you’ve forgotten who you are.”

“And why is that?  Why should I be made to forget who I really am?”

“There you go again.  You already know these answers, Grace.”

“So, let’s pretend for a moment that I don’t know the answers.  Can you explain it?”

“No, that isn’t my role.  But you can try going to school.”

“What do you mean?  Like going into one of these classrooms?”

“Yes.  You could give it a try.  Your instructors are used to seeing you after your assessment, but there may be some that are willing to talk to you now.”

“So how does it work?  What do I do?”

“Well, since you’re still existing in Earth consciousness, it’ll be pretty elementary.”

“Earth consciousness?”

“Yes, you’ve come from Earth and refused to go to your assessment.  So everything you can conceptualize right now is based on your experiences on Earth.  You’re in Earth consciousness.”

“So I’m in kindergarten and existing in Earth consciousness?”

“Exactly.”

“So I’m pretty much just a baby.”

Gabe hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d walked in the room.  He was obviously enjoying the conversation.

“Yes, that’s a good analogy.  But babies are learning during their every waking moment, so it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Okay, what do I do?”

“Step into the corridor.  Bring a question into your mind and hold it.  If an instructor is willing to talk to you, a door will open.”

“But I have so many questions.”

“Good thing you have eternity then, isn’t it?”

She nodded in half-hearted agreement.  She didn’t have eternity.  She needed to get back.  Earth consciousness?  So be it.  If that’s where Luke was, that’s where she wanted to be as well.  But maybe she had time for one question.

“Before that, before school, I just want to know.  Will I be able to go back again?  Can I have another transference?”

“If it’s what you want, Grace, I’ll make it happen for you.”  His smile was finally replaced with a more serious expression.  “If it’s what you need, yes, Grace.”

She could see his effort to push aside his concern, not let it show.  “You’re worried about me.”  It made her uneasy.  Gabe was always steady, confident.  It was just the tiniest flash of concern, but she caught it.

“No Grace, I’m not worried about you.  I know you’re going to be just fine.”  Gabe wouldn’t lie to her.  Then what was it? 

He started to talk again and she knew instinctively that it was only because he recognized the question in her eyes and wanted to divert her.

“I’m not worried, Grace, really.  But that doesn’t mean that I enjoy the thought of you suffering.  You’ve suffered both times you’ve gone back.  And that does bother me, absolutely.”

His response was not a lie.  A diversion maybe, but not a lie.

“I think I have more courage now, Gabe. I’m not afraid of where I’ll go after I die on Earth again.  I’ll come back.  And you’ll be here.”

“Yes.”

She wanted a longer response from him, but that was all there was.  “Yes.”

There was something he wasn’t telling her.  But for some reason, she felt it would be presumptuous, disrespectful even, to pry.  If there was something important she should know, he’d tell her.  She trusted him.

She stood from her chair.  “Well, I guess I’m going to school.”

His smile returned, though maybe not fully. 

“Okay, Grace.  Yeah, give it a try.”

He didn’t rise to see her out, but folded his hands on his desk.

* * * * *

It was easier now to breathe through the pain.  She stepped into the corridor, her corridor.  Every door was shut.  She closed her eyes to focus on a question.  It was difficult to narrow down.  There was so much she wanted to know.  She settled on the one most prominent in her mind and opened her eyes, scanning the doors around her.  There was a click heard ahead of her and to the left as a door swung gently open.  It worked.  She stepped forward and looked inside.

The room was a lavishly decorated baby nursery, the walls a pale shade of pink, the crib linens adorned with images of tiny elephants.  The lighting was dim, as though a baby would be sleeping soundly.  Next to the ornate crib was a woman seated in a rocking chair, holding a pen and a notebook.

“It’s a girl!” she announced as Grace walked in.

The joke did not go over as planned.  Grace stood gawking, an awkward pause accentuating the fact that she didn’t immediately get the joke.

“Sheesh,” the woman breathed loudly at Grace’s disappointing reaction. 

With a flourish of her pen on the notebook in her lap, the room was transformed into that which would be typical of a distinguished professor.  There was a beautiful oak desk, certificates on the wall, rows of bookshelves appropriately populated. 

“Better?” she asked, as she took a seat at her desk.

Grace nodded silently.  She didn’t know whether she was more embarrassed at the joke itself or by the fact that it took her too long to register.  If she’d understood sooner, at least she could have pretended to laugh along.

“Oh well,” the woman began, “as they say, timing is everything.  Sit, sit.”

Grace obeyed. 

“I’m Pietra.” 

“Hello.”

“You had a question, Grace.  You had many, actually, but you settled on one.”

For a moment, Grace couldn’t even remember what it was.  Pietra was off and running again, not waiting for her to catch up.

“Zombies.”

This was ridiculous. 

“The answer is Zombies.”

“Zombies?”

“You wanted to know why bad things happen to good people.”

“Yes.”

“Zombies.” 

Pietra had dark hair piled upon her head in braids.  She wore narrow black glasses.  She had one elbow resting on her notebook, her head on her chin, her pen in the other hand.  “And by the way, Earth is round.”

Grace didn’t understand whether the statement was meant to insult her or whether Pietra had some idea that she’d just lived her last lifetime in the stone age. 

“Yes, I know the Earth is round.”

“Of course you do, girl.  Now, try to imagine explaining that to someone who lived their entire life believing Earth was flat.  Would be tough to convince them, wouldn’t it?”

Apparently the lesson had begun.  Grace was finally starting to catch up.

“Yes, it would be tough.  I mean, I probably wouldn’t be able to convince them.  They’d just think I was crazy.”

“That’s right.  And right now, I’m the person who knows the Earth is round, and you think it’s flat and you probably won’t believe me, no matter what I say.”

Grace was put off by the statement.  She couldn’t help it.  She hated feeling stupid. 

“You’re being indulged right now, Grace. Quite frankly, most of your instructors think this is a waste of time, me included.  But I like Gabe an awful lot.  He asked me to help you out and I have a hard time saying no.  Don’t get me wrong, I like you too, but I like you better without the costume, this zombie get-up you’ve got going on.”

“I don’t understand.”

“And that’s just it, Grace.  You
don’t
understand.  You wanted the answer to a question, as though it could be compacted and prepared for you in some neat little package.  Because you’re at baby level understanding and still in Earth consciousness, you think that question can be answered in some simple, easy way.  It can’t.  You don’t have the depth of understanding to grasp a fraction of what the answer would be.  You’re too limited right now.  And you can’t have it both ways.  Move on and get the answers you want.  Or stay here in limbo and be ignorant.”