The Guardian of Threshold (6 page)

“Consider yourself warned. Don’t venture into this realm again!” As soon as it finished talking, I felt an invisible force push me, sending me tumbling down toward the floor. I was falling at such extreme speed that all I saw were streaks of light as my body quickly fell through the air.

As the ground grew larger, I tried to change course, but all I managed to do was spin out of control. That’s when my heart did what I thought was impossible: it sped up even more. As a last resort, I tried to reach for something to grab, but there wasn’t anything within reach. So I did the only thing I could: I covered my eyes with both hands so hard that I felt them burn. Yet that didn’t bring me any relief, as I could still “see” everything clear as day.

I thought I was either going to die from the crash or from a heart attack—that is, if I wasn’t dead already, which was still a serious possibility.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, the floor of my bedroom opened to reveal an abyss that seemed at least fifteen hundred feet deep. A fall that shouldn’t have taken more than a few seconds seemed to last over three minutes—three whole minutes of desperation.

But just as fast as it had all started, it was over. I felt my body hit the ground, but much to my surprise, instead of pain I felt the rather satisfying and pleasant sensation of a plush landing. My body bounced up and down on my bed as though I had fallen from a great height. I was alive… confused, but alive nonetheless.

As I lay there, awake and contemplating what had just happened, it occurred to me that I didn’t know how to feel about whole thing.

My heart still raced, my face was still covered in cold sweat, my T-shirt was drenched, and the sheets were soaked.

What was that all about?
I thought as my eyes sought out the alarm clock next to my nightstand and I realized it was past five o’clock. I quickly got up to take a cold shower. After all, I still had to find something to wear, something simple and yet classic.

I still felt tired even after taking a shower. Part of me wanted to stay home and finish my homework and relax. But at the same time, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be around Carla. Whenever I was close to her, I felt the season change to spring. It must have been her natural scent, which could transform my reality in the simple blink of an eye.

***

After I finished showering, I took another look at the clock, which read 5:44 p.m. I was already late and still undecided about what to wear. Pressed for time, I grabbed the first unwrinkled shirt I saw and my new jeans.

I still wasn’t sure if I should wear my white or navy blue winter jacket… in the end I opted for the blue one, which seemed less conspicuous. After all, I didn’t want to make it too obvious that I liked her.

After putting on some of my dad’s cologne, I set my sights for the stairs while avoiding the photographs in the Sorrows Hallway.

I made my way downstairs and found my dad pacing back and forth as he talked to Phil, his partner at work. Much to my dismay, he put Phil on hold and came over to talk to me.

“Hey! Where are you going so fast?” he asked as he took off his Bluetooth headset and held it in his giant hands, which only made his hands look bigger and the headset even smaller.

“Oh, hi, Dad, I gotta run, I’m late for dinner with the… guys.”

“I see. Any girls at this dinner?” he asked, although he knew Carla would be there. After all, the three of us had been going out every Friday for the past couple of years. We grew up together, and being neighbors made us inseparable.

“Yes, she will be there, and no, I will not ask her out, Dad,” I said as I heard Phil’s voice through the tiny wireless headset in my dad’s hand asking, “Miles? Are you still there?”

“I’m running late, Dad, but I won’t be home too late, I promise,” I said, pointing at the headset in his hands. He froze for a second as if he had something else to tell me, but I didn’t give him the chance. I closed the door and left.

***

“Hey!” someone said from behind me. I turned around, surprised to see Jonas standing there. I guess I was still jumpy from earlier.

“Are you ready?” said Jonas, sporting his normal contented and careless look. I quickly recovered from the scare he gave me.

“Sure,” I said as we both started to walk toward La Luna’s. Thankfully, it wasn’t very far from where we lived. Although the rain had stopped, the cold seemed to have intensified.

“You’re late, and now we’re late,” said Jonas as we walked briskly uphill toward Main Street.

“Sorry, I fell asleep,” I said reluctantly, unsure if I should tell him what had just happened to me. I didn’t want him thinking that I was going crazy.

“What happened? Did you fall off the bed and hit your head? Because if that’s the reason, I’m sure that’s normal, at least for you,” said Jonas, unable to contain his laughter.

“Very funny. Seriously though, I had this terrible nightmare. It was… surreal. I think…” I paused, “I think… I died.” I finally finished. Having just realized the implications of what I’d said. I had to get more information. There had to be someone in town who could help me.

“You obviously didn’t die,” said Jonas.

As we got to the corner of Main Street, I turned right while he tried to turn left to go toward the restaurant.

“Where are you going? La Luna is this way,” he said as he quickly turned around and started to follow me in the opposite direction.

“Mark? Where are you— I mean where are we going?” asked Jonas, as I paid no attention to him. I was caught up in my own thoughts.

“Mark Anthony!” said Jonas.

“Yes?”

“Where the hell are we going?”

“I need to stop by the library on the way, there’s something I have to do there,” I said, only paying the necessary attention to be considered sociable as I gazed into the distance, trying to sort out my options.

What Jonas didn’t know was that a window of hope had opened up for me when I uttered the words “I died.” He couldn’t have known the implications of that, or the possibilities I’d just envisioned. He couldn’t have known that it meant I could see my mother again.

If I was right, I would be able to see her every night, and I would once again feel a sense of normalcy. Just the thought of feeling her love and care made me drown in hope and wonderment.

“Carla isn’t going to be happy that we’re late again, but oh well,” said Jonas carelessly. He hated being bossed around by his older sibling—although they were twins, Carla had been born a full two minutes before Jonas, and she never let him forget who was the boss.

“I just hope she doesn’t order my food. So, do you care to fill me in on why we’re going to the library?” Jonas finally asked.

“It’s about what happened to me this afternoon, I need to check on something,” I said vaguely.

“Do you mean the dream?”

“It wasn’t a dream, it was more like a very real nightmare,” I said.

“Then it was a nightmare? But why do you seem to be so… so happy?” said Jonas, looking puzzled.

It was true; I’d been filled with immense joy and happiness, a strange feeling that I hadn’t experienced in years. Even the biting cold felt warm and comforting. My hands, which had been freezing just before my epiphany, now felt painlessly numb. At that moment, nothing could hurt me.

“I’m not 100 percent sure yet… promise me you won’t laugh?” I asked, having decided to fill him in.

“I can promise that I’ll try not to,” said Jonas, already laughing.

“This afternoon I took a nap in which I felt my soul lift out of my body and hover in the air. I was certain that I was dead when a strange voice started to talk to me. It was like a warning to stay away from that place. Then I started to fall through the floor, which ended up with me falling into my bed awake,” I said.

“So why is that good?” asked Jonas, confused.

“Don’t you see it? I was sure that I’d died, yet here I am talking to you. Don’t you realize what that means?”

“Huh… it means you’re glad you didn’t die,” said Jonas lightly.

“No! It means there’s a small chance I can see my… mother again; see her, talk to her, maybe even touch her.”

“Mark, it was just a dream… no, a nightmare,” said Jonas seriously. As delicately as he could, he added, “We all have those once in a while, but it doesn’t mean we’ll see our dead loved ones again.”

“There has to be more to it, I know there is. If that thing hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve found out,” I said. “I’m hoping the librarian will know more about it and maybe even recommend me a book or two.”

“Okay, my friend, we’re almost there,” said Jonas, apparently not sure of what else to say as we passed the old Stoneham Theatre & Ensemble red brick building, which happened to be located right in the heart of Stoneham.

It was fairly dark already. The signs and theater marquee were brightly lit, giving us a warm yellow glow as we passed underneath.

I could not help but notice the sign on the marquee advertising the next Christmas showing. My mother loved that theater.

***

The ambient light seemed to change as we got closer to the Stoneham Public Library. I looked up, trying to find out why, and that’s when I noticed that the streetlights near the library were burnt out, leaving the library illuminated only by the bright shades of red and orange in winter sky. It made the square concrete building seem sinister.

The library was surrounded by a park filled with trees—some as high as a two-story building—and benches that spread throughout the property, all of which were deserted due to the cold.

“I wonder if they are still open,” said Jonas, looking around.

“I hope so,” I said, cringing as I looked inside, searching for any signs of life.

I climbed the front steps, skipping every other step in a rush to get in faster.

I grabbed the handle on the door and pulled it as my heart sped up. Much to my relief, the cold metal door clicked open.

We still hadn’t seen any signs of life inside, but at least the lights were still on.

As we entered the library we could see the librarian getting ready to close.

“I’m sorry, but we are about to close in less than five minutes,” said the librarian as she approached us from the back of the library, carrying a few books.

“We won’t be long, we promise,” said Jonas quickly.

“Maybe you can help us, I’m looking for books regarding something that happened to me today,” I said nervously.

“And what was that?” asked the librarian.

“I had this dream, or nightmare, in which I was floating in the air when some creature talked to me. Are there any books on anything remotely related?” I asked. I was hopeful but also rather embarrassed. There was something about saying it out loud that made it sound unbelievable and even crazy.

“Without doing any research, it’s hard to tell. Perhaps books on dream interpretation? I think we have a few of those,” she suggested.

“I was looking for something more specific, perhaps more scientific,” I replied.

“Sorry, I can’t help you off the top of my head. But feel free to look around for a couple minutes if you like. You’ll find dream related books in the nonfiction section just down the corridor. Just don’t take too long,” she finished.

Jonas and I proceeded to the darker end of the library, where the lights had already been turned off for the night as we looked for the right section.

After a good minute, we found what seemed to be the correct section.

We started to go through the many titles and authors, but after a couple of minutes we didn’t find anything helpful.

“This isn’t what I need,” I said, frustrated as time ran short.

“Maybe we have the wrong section,” suggested Jonas.

Just as he finished speaking, I saw another librarian walking toward us. I was sure she was going to tell us that we needed to leave.

“Quick question,” I said. “I’m looking for books related to floating while sleeping. Do you know of any?”

“Oh dear. I think I know what you mean,” she said in very calm and soft voice. “But you’re in the wrong section. Follow me.” She turned around and took off at a surprisingly fast pace for a woman of her age.

As we followed her to the back of the library, I couldn’t help but notice that her outfit seemed strange and outdated. She wore a full-length pinstriped dress with a white Peter Pan collar and a red satin ribbon.
Who still wears those these days?
Also, her face looked so… different and yet familiar.

“Right this way,” she said as she briskly navigated through the maze of bookshelves. “Don’t you love the smell of old books?”

“Smells like sweet vanilla,” I said, surprised I hadn’t sneezed yet.

“That’s because of the old books. They actually smell like a combination of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of vanilla over an underlying mustiness. This unmistakable smell is as much a part of the books as their contents,” replied the librarian. Then added, “true story.”

She led us deeper into the old and now deserted library. The only source of light was a rather dim yellow light bulb that had been left on.

It seemed that we had passed every subject imaginable before we finally came to a halt in the New Age section, which was located all the way in the back as if hidden in shame.

The old librarian put on a beautiful old Victorian sterling lorgnette—I had never seen one of those before, except on TV. It had an exquisite spring flower motif and an engraved handle with the initials “EB” on it.

Just when I was about to ask the meaning of the engraving, she turned around, and I was able to read her badge: “Mrs. Emerald Barnes—Librarian.”

“Where is it now… it should be right… here it is!” she said as she removed the book from a shelf across from me and brought it closer to her face. She blew on the book, and thousands of small dust particles flew off, looking for a place to settle.

“This is it!
A Guide to Astral Projection and Related Techniques
, by Victor Windlow. This should clarify things a bit,” she said, handing me the book. I held it as if it contained the secrets of the universe.

“There are many other books on the subject, but this is by far my favorite, and I think you will like it as well,” Mrs. Barnes added. “Come back and see me after you have a chance to read it,” she said, putting away her lorgnette.