The Rosaries (Crossroads Series) (17 page)

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Authors: Sandra Carrington-Smith

BOOK: The Rosaries (Crossroads Series)
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Natalie was stunned. “Wow, when you put it that way, it really brings home a lot of things I never considered…”

“This is only the tip of the iceberg, Natalie. There is no telling just how much we all will learn when the shift occurs.”

I’m not sure if I should be eager or scared.”

“I guess we all should be a bit of both. Once everyone reaches the same level of consciousness, there will be nothing new to learn. Life as we know it will be different, and souls will have progressively less reasons to incarnate on Earth.”


Lakeisha
…is that what the Bible described as Armageddon?”

“The fight between good and evil, the eternal conflict between the Divine and the earthly bodies…yes, Natalie, I believe it is. Of course, that’s only my opinion, so take it for what it’s worth to you.”

“Actually, your opinion is worth a lot to me,
Lakeisha
. You have explained, in just a few moments, things I have spent entire nights wondering about.”

“I’m sure we’ll get more chances to talk, Natalie, especially on our trip. Now we should start thinking of retiring for the night; this has been a full day.”

“I think you’re right. Well, goodnight, then.”

Natalie got up from
Lakeisha’s
bed, and headed for the door. Before leaving she turned around and ran to hug her new friend. “Thank you
Lakeisha
. I look forward to learning more.”

Lakeisha
hugged her back and smiled. “Me too, Child, me too.”

 

 

Jim Allen woke up to the sound of his own heartbeats coming from the monitor he was hooked up to. He looked around the room and tried to understand where he was – nothing looked familiar. Even if the dim lights were making it hard for him to discern details of his surroundings, he knew he wasn’t at home. Where was Belinda? He had no earthly idea of what happened; as hard as he tried, his mind was a blank slate – no recollection of anything that happened the past day or so; the last thing he remembered was leaving home in the morning after breakfast.

Certainly Belinda was on her way back; she would explain everything and it all would make sense – Belinda could rationalize even the craziest things. He felt very tired, and struggled to keep awake. Part of him demanded to know what happened, but he didn’t even have the strength to push the button for the nurse. He realized, by now, that he was in a hospital room. He had tubes in his nose, both arms infused with an IV, and wires attached to his chest that connected him to the heart monitor. Somehow, whatever happened had to do with his heart.

He was ready to fall into slumber again when he heard the door open, and the eagerness to know what happened jolted him awake. It wasn’t Belinda, but a very young nurse.

“Mr. Allen, you are awake.” She looked at the clock on the wall and then at his chart. “You slept almost eight hours. Your vitals are strong again, so you should be out of danger, but I can’t really say much more. The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you.”

“What happened to me?”

“You had a mild heart attack. By the time they brought you in, you had lost consciousness, and your vitals were extremely low, but you responded to treatment very well.”

“Well, let’s thank God for the small things.”

“This was not a small thing, Sir. You would have died if you didn’t call 911.”

“I called 911 myself? I cannot remember anything. Is my wife outside?”

“Your wife? What do you mean?”

“My wife Belinda. Did she go home? Does she know I’m here?”

The nurse’s face grew darker with concern. She suddenly felt tremendous compassion toward this kind old gentleman who obviously didn’t remember his wife died. She knew she could not say anything to him – a strong emotion in his precarious state of health could be fatal. “She stepped out for a while, Mr. Allen. She will be back soon. Why don’t you rest for a little longer? By the time you wake up she should be here.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m very tired.”

The nurse noted a few things on his chart, and then left the room.

Jim, now appeased by the fact that he knew what happened, fell asleep again. As soon as his eyes closed, he and Belinda were walking together in a field of sunflowers.

 

 

Melody woke up in the middle of the night gasping for air. She was sobbing and asking
Grandmama
for forgiveness. In her dream she had just lost the book all over again, and was trying to explain the circumstances to her grandmother. Finally,
Grandmama
asked her to safeguard the rosary, but in the dream she didn’t know where it was. She looked everywhere in the farmhouse, and could feel her grandmother’s irritation rise with each passing minute. She saw someone darting through the front yard from the bedroom window, and she was certain she had seen him before – he was one of the priests that had come to see her when she was looking
for the book at the farmhouse, the very same priest that turned out to be Federico Hernandez, Mario’s estranged brother. He had the rosary around his neck, and was laughing as he ran. Melody ran downstairs and flew outside to stop him, but he was faster than she. Before she could get to him, he fled with
Grandmama’s
precious rosary, the one she had begged Melody to keep safe. Melody had let her down once again, and she would have to live with that guilt the rest of her life.

She sat up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp. She was glad that it was just a dream. Mario wasn’t home yet, and when she looked at the alarm clock on her dresser she almost jumped – three-thirty in the morning! She picked up the phone and dialed his cell number; it rang four times before he picked up.

“Jesus, Mario. I was worried sick!” She exhaled as relief pumped through her veins.

“I’m sorry, Honey. What time is it? I fell asleep in my office. I lay back one minute and closed my eyes to rest them for a second, and I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“I thought something happened, Mario. You really have to review your work schedule to allow yourself some time to sleep.”

“I know, Melody. It will all change soon. We are almost ready to close in on the biggest case I’ve ever worked on.”

Melody sighed. There was no arguing with him when it came down to police work. “I understand, Sweetheart. Can you come home now?”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be home in less than thirty minutes.”

“Okay. See you then.”

She doubted she was going back to sleep after that dream, so she got up and went to check on the rosary for her own sake of mind. She was aware that she only had a bad dream, but the guilt of losing
Grandmama’s
book was still haunting her from time to time. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing the rosary as well. To make sure nobody’s life would be in danger, and to keep the promise she made to
Grandmama
, she told nobody about the rosary. To her knowledge, the only one who knew about it was Paul. She didn’t even tell Mario. All she had said to him was that
Grandmama
left her The Book and a few other little knick-knacks that had sentimental value for her. He never pushed the issue, and for two years Melody kept her secret.

She went downstairs and walked into the kitchen. She opened the little secret compartment behind the flour container and pulled out the velvet pouch that contained the
rosary. She didn’t really look at it much the past couple of years, and was still mesmerized by the beauty of it. It was crafted out of different gemstones, and the cross at the end of it was equal-armed.

Thinking back of her dream caused her to shift uncomfortably. Could Federico, Mario’s younger brother, be after the rosary? Having been raised into a family that delved into Voodoo, he might have known about it. He obviously knew about the book, but then, due to his religious education into priesthood, she wasn’t too surprised.

The thought made her shiver – would the Vatican be after the rosary, too? Memories of that awful Cardinal
Bonelli
made her blood run cold for a moment. And what was of Federico, anyway? After his car was found empty following a terrible crash on the highway, witnesses had come forth. Someone from Cardinal
Bonelli’s
office called and identified the car as belonging to Father
Gervasi
, one of the cardinal’s aides.

When the police investigated, they were told that Father
Gervasi
had stolen a priceless manuscript that Cardinal
Bonelli
had unearthed down in Louisiana – a priceless tome that belonged to the Vatican. The authorities asked for a photo of Father
Gervasi
, and since he looked like Mario’s double – the investigator knew Mario personally – a copy of the suspect’s photo was faxed to Mario’s office. Mario almost fell out when he realized that Father
Gervasi
was none other than his estranged little brother he hadn’t seen in at least a decade.

Where was Federico now? The simple facts that he was alive and well somewhere unnerved Melody and made her wish that her husband was here with her. Being alone in the farmhouse was okay during the daytime hours, but at night time it was a little scary. The old walls creaked and moaned, and an occasional mouse scurrying around in the attic had the power to make her jump out of her skin. She kissed the rosary and put it back into the velvet pouch, before placing it back into its hiding spot.
I won’t let you down this time,
Grandmama
. I promise.

 

 

Phillip Sanders laid his head against the soft leather seat of his Mercedes, and took another swig from the bottle he was holding. Angela could be a real bitch sometimes – actually, she was a real bitch
all
the time, and was only nice when it fit her purpose.

Phillip didn’t care about her, not any more at any rate. He used to, until he laid eyes on his pretty young secretary. How could he resist her gorgeous blue eyes and silky blond hair? She
probably had no idea of the effect she had on him, but he had surely enjoyed working long hours lately. She didn’t seem to really acknowledge his advances, but she didn’t do anything to discourage him either. She almost seemed to find pleasure in teasing him, and rubbed her braless breasts against him every time she leaned over the desk to show him something. He searched for the best word to describe her in the foggy dictionary of his inebriated mind. She was a cock-tease…yeah, that’s what she was. But he wanted her nonetheless – every day more than the one before. If she just said the word he would have no remorse leaving Angela and her bratty tantrums.

He drank some more, and looked at the box under his passenger seat, his “box of disguises,” as he called it. The box contained some items of clothing and even a fake moustache he used when he went to look for cheap pleasure, since he had a reputation to maintain and Wilmington wasn’t exactly New York City. God bless the small towns of America, where everybody knows your name!

By now, Phillip felt like throwing up. He hadn’t eaten much, and the alcohol was sloshing around in his gut. He heaved a few times and pressed the button to lower the window of the car. He was drunk but not stupid – if he had to throw up he could do so without ruining the upholstery of a fifty thousand dollar car.

The fresh air did him good. He was still dizzy, but his stomach seemed to have settled a bit. He left the window open and leaned back against the headrest. Suddenly, he thought of Catherine. Sweet, lovely Catherine. Phillip should have married her, instead than her evil sister.

They had only spent one night together, but that had been enough for Phillip to fall in love. That was why he couldn’t take in her daughter – the thought of looking at a child that reminded him of his true love would have been the sure death of his already shaky marriage.

He really tried to love Angela after that, but something was missing. Now that he looked at the situation from a different perspective, he knew that something was always missing. He had been physically attracted to Angela in his younger years, but that was all. She was good looking, and was comfortably rich; exactly what Phillip needed at the time to build a respectable law firm. Now he hated her, and as the grip of alcohol tightened around his mind, he entertained, for a moment, the thought of killing her for kicking him out of her life. Phillip Sanders knew the law enough to get away with it.

 

 

It was past five in the morning when Natalie finally fell asleep. From the time she got home from Aunt Catherine’s house, her mind was running eighty miles per hour. She thought of some of the things that
Lakeisha
told her, and felt her head spin as she tried to rationalize some of those concepts.
Lakeisha
talked about the duality of the Universe, of all things having a positive and a negative, of everything being good and evil at the same time. Could that be true?

She mentally scanned through some of the things and people she was familiar with, and no matter which of them she tested, the concept of duality applied to all of them. Starting from even the most basic and elemental forces, everything had a dual nature. Water could be nurturing if applied as a trickle or with the power of a gentle stream, but it could be deadly in other manifestations. The same was with fire, wind, earth. Thinking about the elements triggered another thought – the meeting point of all cardinal directions. Did the middle point embody the power of all elements? If it did, and vibrations poured in from each cardinal direction inward, the power of the middle point had to be tremendous, and there was no doubt in Natalie’s mind that an earth-shattering shift could occur.

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