Places

This silence, this darkness is all I know.  As I lie here in my darkness, I sense a light in the distance.  The light becomes brighter as a scene begins to appear.  I am here in my favorite place, the gorge.  The day is bright and beautiful.  The air is light, accompanied by a soft, breezy movement which sparks a soothing melody as it travels between the leaves.  The birds are singing a flawless soprano and the rush of the waterfall adds the base.  The river completes this symphony in tenor as the cornerstone of all life flows over the earth.  I am six years old again, holding the hand of my beloved grandfather who died when I was just sixteen.  Across the Cuyahoga River, I see a beautiful brick house.  It reminds me of the houses in storybooks, with deep stark angles sloping from the roof.  It sits in compliment with nature nestled among the trees and the lush, green foliage.  My grandfather points to the house "You must go." his voice whispers deep in my thoughts.

A feeling of dread begins within.  It creeps up my spine to my heart where it grips like a vise.  Though the sun warms my skin,  I feel cold.  Goosebumps dot my body.  I do not know what I fear, only that I am afraid.  I am a little girl, only six after all.  I beg my grandfather to come with me.  He shakes his head sadly, then points.  This is something I must do alone.

I release my grandfather's hand and step toward the river.  The symphony is quiet, for all I hear is the rush of the cool water.  I step into the river and place my foot on the first of a string of rocks that will aid me as I cross.  I look back at my grandfather who is watching my jump from one rock to the next.  Although my fear mounts with each leap, his presence is comforting.  The river seems louder, thundering through my head and I am frightfully aware the birds have ceased their melody.  In my thoughts, I can hear my grandfather's voice reminding me of his love.  I take a deep breath as my foot touches the opposite side of the embankment.

During this journey I have grown, for I am now a young woman.  So much time has passed since I crossed the river, yet for me it was only mere moments.  I have been here in this place before.  When I have dreamt of it in the past, I would always stop somewhere int he middle and play as a child lost in eternity, unmindful of why I came.  But this time was different, perhaps because I was somehow different.  I wondered what had changed in me to allow me the courage to cross.  Standing on the embankment, fear gripped my heart.  It sat at the top of my throat as a boulder, waiting to crush me underneath.  I looked behind to see my grandfather, patiently waiting.  It was then I knew I would complete my spiritual journey.  My grandfather again pointed to the house, encouraging me to continue forth.  As I took the first step toward the house, I realized the roar of the river had ceased.  The silence hung heavily in the thick air, enveloping me.  I paused.  My feet felt of clay, my muscles lost all tone and I forgot to take a breath.  I do not know why I embark upon this quest, only that I must.  Resigned to duty, I make my way up the sloped embankment.

Each step is robotic, made because of a tiny glimmer of determination I feel from within.  I try not to think of what lies ahead, instead choosing to concentrate only on placing one foot in front of the other.  Intuitively, I know there is no turning back.  I cannot look behind me and I cannot yet face what lies ahead.  My grandfather left;  no longer can I reassure myself with his presence, but deep down, beneath the intense fear, I feel his love for me.  My heart pounds as I crest the slope.  I stand in solitude at the front door of the house. I reach for the doorknob.   The past is behind me, and the future is terrifying.

This silent darkness is all I know.  As I lie here in the darkness, I sense a light outside of myself.  I hear the doves cooing near my bedroom window.  I lay nestled in my favorite down comforter.  My husband is sleeping next to me, snoring softly.  Slowly, I awake to the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen.  I will return to finish my dream another night, for my spirit remains at the gorge.

                                                Places: Opening the Door

My hand reached for the doorknob.  My heart pounded in my ears; I felt short of breath.  What am I doing here?  I don't have to do this, I don't even know what it is I'm supposed to do.  I drew my hand back, staring at the door.  I looked back over the river, knowing my Grandfather was not there, but hoping just the same.  There was a thickness in the air, it was stagnant.  I felt death, decay and dying all around.  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and reached for the door again.  The door was heavy, but it opened with ease to a grand foyer with vaulted ceilings.  The sun was shining through the highest windows, a light fog of dust floating on the rays of light. Silence, so much silence.  To the right was a winding staircase, step by wooden step rising to meet the sky.  To the left was a large room, classically furnished, the room bathed in white light.  Everywhere I looked, there was light or illusion of light bouncing off the oiled woodwork. Light was all around, to the left, to the right, above, but there was no light directly in front of me.  In front of me was a darkness, and the path of the darkness was beckoning me to her.

Most people fear the darkness, but most of the time I do not.  I welcome the darkness.  As I looked around, a calm gently covered my body.  I was still afraid, but no terror existed. I walked toward it.  As I approached the darkness, I saw a dimly lit set of descending stairs, plunging into even greater darkness.  Though I was calm, there was a sense of dread trying to slip out.  I am resigned; I am going forward to see what it is I must do.  When destiny opens an opportunity, it is wise to heed the call.  Walking down the stairs, I saw a dimly lit hall opening up as I approached the base.  I paused on the last step.  The only available light was around me.  It wasn't much light, only enough to illuminate the next few feet.  I felt as if I was entering a tunnel, only there was no light at the end, no promise of even finding the end.  I just might be lost here forever.  Yet still, I stepped into it.

The hall was wide, with a door on both sides.  As I walked down the middle of the hall, the door on my right opened up suddenly and a screaming howling monster jumped out. I was startled, but remained calm.  When the monster saw me, it retreated.  I took a few more steps down the hall and a door on my left opened up.  A monster more hideous than the last ran out with a shrill screech to attack, but again retreated when it saw me. There was a peace with me, and I was not startled this time, nor the several more times it happened as a slowly walked down the hall.  I still don't know why I am here, but I keep putting one foot in front of the other, forward, forward.  Monster, monster, monsters keep coming at me from behind these closed doors but they do not attack, they retreat.  I came to understand they wanted to attack me, but I was walking in the light where they cannot go.

Finally I reached the end of the hall.  There was a door on my left which remained closed.  I paused outside this door, wondering if I should go in.  No monster emerged, so I reached for the door knob, slowly opening it.  The room was large and dimly lit.  There was a single, dirty window near to the ceiling.  The room was empty except for a very large, very high and ornate bed with a huge, fluffy down cover.  I walked toward the bed and I heard frightened breaths of air being inhaled, and exhaled rapidly.  It was intermingled with quiet sobs; a few whimpers.  I reached the edge of the bed and I saw a little girl peeking nervously from under the cover.  She quickly ducked underneath the covers, hiding.  I slowly lifted the cover, so as not to frighten her further, but she crawled deeper in the bed.

"Honey" I said, "you are safe."  There was no answer.  "I'm not going to hurt you, I have come to take you out of here."  I noticed the smell of decay was very strong in this room.  That is why I am here, this little girl is near death.  "Honey, please.  You need to leave this house; I want to take you out in the sunshine."  There was a movement under the cover, rustling the linens.  I reached out to stroke the little lump in the bed I guessed was the little girl.  At first, she jerked away, as if I had burned her.  I continued to stoke the bump in the blanket and as I did, the frightened breathing began to slow.  After a while, I could not hear nor feel any breathing, and I began to get scared.  "Honey?" I asked.  "Are you OK?  I have come to get you out of here."

I heard a feeble, barely perceptible answer, "No."

"Honey, it's OK, I'm going to get you out of here."  I said.  "There are monsters" she replied.  "I know there are monsters, but I can get you out safely, come on, let's go."  "Monsters will kill me!"  She cried out.  "No, they will not touch you.  I have come to take you out, but we must hurry because you are very sick and we need to get you help."  I told her.  More rustling under the blanket and her head peeked out from under the blanket.  "I've been bad"  she said as I saw her eyes welling with tears.  This is the first good look I got at her face and I was horrified.  She was so thin her eyes were nearly bulging from her sockets.  My heart bled for her.  "No, you are not bad, you are just a little girl, come now, we are running out of time."  I said.  I did feel an urgency growing within me.  I reached out my hand to her.  A tiny, bony, frail hand reached out toward me.  I gasped.  Who had done this to this child?  I started to get angry, but she sense my anger and withdrew back under the blanket. "No, sweetheart, no, I am not angry with you.  I am angry at the person who has done this to you.  Please come back out."  I tried to keep my voice even, calm, but it was breaking with the sadness I felt for this poor little girl.  More rustling as she peeked back out from underneath the blanket.

"Will you take care of me?" she asked.  "I will, sweetheart, I will take care of you and keep you safe, no one will hurt you ever again." I was pleading with her.  I sensed time was running out.  She started to come out from underneath the blankets.  She was skeletal.  I scooped her up in my arms.  Her frail little arms wrapped around my neck.  I was surprised at how strong she was.  I made my way out of the bedroom.  I heard her draw a sharp breath in when I entered the hall, but my walk quickened.  As I walked down the hall, a few monsters popped out and again they retreated.  I paid them no attention, because time was running out.  I reached the end of the hall and I took the steps two at a time.  The little girl buried her head in my shirt when we reached the foyer.  I wondered how long it had been since the little girl saw sunlight.  I ran outside with her.

"You are safe, now.  The monsters can't hurt you anymore."  I said.  We sat down at the base of a tree.  She was crying silent tears.  I noticed the birds were singing again, and the Cuyahoga River thundered over the rocks.  The orchestra was the same, as if it had never been interrupted by evil.  Across the river, I saw a bunny.  "Look honey, look over there, a bunny!" I pointed across the river.  She turned her head just enough to see the bunny.  She was no longer crying.  "What's your name?" I asked.  She looked at me quizzically.  "Do you have a name?" I asked.  She looked at me and said "Charlotte."  Charlotte?  That was my name a lifetime ago.  Then I understood.  I didn't just save a little girl; I had gone in to save myself.  When I looked back down at the little girl, I saw a smile appear across her face as she faded into the wind.