TURNING THE PAGE
Maryah
I felt eerily haunted, like my parents were watching my every move. I kept saying things out loud like “I love you, but if you’re here, can you leave me alone for a minute?” This new theory that my parents could be lingering at all times left me thinking through every move I made.
Dinner with River was out of the question, so I called and cancelled. Instead, I sat on my bed staring across the room at my mother’s jewelry box—unable to bring myself to go near it. What could my mother have hidden inside? I looked at the clock. 8:18pm.
I crept toward my dresser where the box sat. My fingers traced the ridges in the wood before I opened the lid. Slowly, I removed each piece of jewelry then flipped it over to examine the bottom. It didn’t look like it had been altered, or that anything would fit in the tiny space between the outside and the inner lining. I carried it into the kitchen and set it on the counter.
Was I really going to do this? Damage my mother’s jewelry box just because Harmony claimed she could talk to dead people?
I scanned the room expecting to see a camera crew jump out and tell me it was all a joke. But there were no cameras. I was alone and the house was so quiet I could hear the wind outside. I pulled out a knife and tampered with the bottom of the box. I tried a few different knives, stabbing at the glued seam, but the seal couldn’t be broken. The more frustrated I got, the more determined I became. My fear disappeared. I’d open the bottom of the box even if I had to take a hammer to it. A hammer .
I grabbed the box and headed out to the garage.
After digging out a flathead screwdriver and a rubber mallet from Anthony’s toolbox, I placed the screwdriver along the seam and pounded away. Another failed attempt. I threw the screwdriver across the garage in frustration and looked at the heavy steel hammer hanging on Anthony’s wall of tools. I shuddered as I pictured myself destroying the box. What if the object hidden inside was fragile and I broke it? What if there was nothing hidden inside at all?
Two seconds later my destructive vision became a reality. One powerful swing and the bottom of the box splintered. After another hit, the rest caved in. Using the claw side of the hammer, I pried away the remaining wood.
There, taped firmly to the next layer of the box, was an envelope with my name written in my mother’s handwriting. My hands trembled. Two things terrified me: what the envelope might contain and that this meant Harmony wasn’t lying—she could talk to ghosts.
I shook my head, trying to gain control of my thoughts, and whispered into the stillness, “Okay Mom, no turning back now.”
I climbed into the Desoto, carefully opening the envelope, and removed several sheets of paper.
My Precious Maryah,
If you are reading this letter it means you are not eighteen yet and something tragic has happened to me. Tell your father and Michael that I love them both dearly, and thank your father for keeping his promise and giving you this letter. If you choose to tell him what you learn, please tell him I’m sorry for keeping it a secret.
As I sit here writing this, you are three years old—so sweet, innocent, and new to the world. It breaks my heart to think of ever having to leave you. However, if one day, I’m forced to go against my will, then there are things you should know.
I plan to tell you this in person, but not until your eighteenth birthday. Logic tells me you should enjoy your childhood. I should let you develop your own beliefs and theories on love and how the world works. Yet a stronger intuition, some unknown force within me, KNOWS I can’t keep this from you. If it’s true…I get chills as I write the words…then it’s your divine right to know the truth.
My childhood best friend, Louise, just revealed something that has caused me to question life and wonder if things aren’t always as they seem. (Louise has an imagination that runs deeper than any ocean on this planet.) She swears there is a never-ending cycle to this world. That we return again and again in different bodies, but we remain the same souls. There have been many times when I felt like I’d been somewhere before or experienced something I knew I hadn’t (in this lifetime). Déjà vu is what many call it. Louise said it is memories from my past that haven’t been entirely erased. Part of me believes that theory.
It’s her erase-or-retain theory that I’m not sure I believe. She swears every soul is given a choice between lives. They can retain their memories and knowledge, or they can erase and start with a clean slate. Apparently there are a chosen few who get to decide the details of their return, so it makes it easier for them to retain. She swears YOU are one of those gifted souls. She called you an Element and said you are a part of her kindrily…an eternal family. She lost count of which number lifetime this is for you, but swears she’s been a part of every one.
She said almost every normal human chooses erasure because they have no guarantees their new life will be better or worse than their former. The memories and emotional baggage are too much for most souls to endure. In their new life, they might never see anyone they previously knew or loved, but would still carry a torch for them. Furthermore, if they did return quickly enough to live in the same time span of the people they left behind, odds are those people wouldn’t believe in a reincarnated version of their lost loved one. The rejection would cause so much heartache that the retainer would never make that choice again.
The whole thing sounds ridiculous, but as long as I have known Louise (over twenty years) she has never lied to me. So how can I doubt her now when she comes to me so passionately to discuss one of the most precious topics in the world to me? My daughter…her goddaughter. Louise claims you chose your father and me as your parents so that you could be close to her and her family. She also claims her son, Nathaniel, is your soul mate.
When she first told me this information yesterday, Nathaniel stared at me with wide, green, curious eyes. He’s a toddler! I’m supposed to believe that he loves you and has loved you for centuries?
I thought Louise had lost her mind. I’m still worried about her as I write this. I can’t bring myself to tell your father in fear that he’ll make me reassign your guardianship. Even as I sit here, worrying Louise has gone insane, my intuition tells me that she IS the right choice as your godmother.
If it is true
I’m rambling. I’m not even sure what the purpose of this letter is or how to finish it. I pray the day will never come when you have to read this. I pray I’ll live to see your seventieth birthday. Yet somehow I feel better that I wrote it all down even if no one ever reads it or knows of Louise’s bizarre theory, I feel better knowing it has been written.
If by some awful twist of fate, you do someday read this, keep this thought in your heart…I love you more than words can express. I will always love you and I will do whatever is within my power to protect you. I might make mistakes along the way, but I will always follow my heart. And if by some divine miracle, you did choose me as your mother, I want to thank you for the honor and privilege. I have truly been blessed to give birth to such an angelic soul.
With every fiber of my being, I love you,
Mom
I curled up in the backseat of my car, clutched the letter to my chest, and cried like a baby.
∞
It was almost ten o’clock and I was more awake than I’d ever been.
That kindrily word, the one I’d heard Anthony say in a dream, stared back at me in my mother’s handwriting. Why couldn’t she have told me all of this at any age prior to eighteen? Then I would’ve known Louise had issues and I would’ve stayed in Maryland. But Louise never acted crazy—not once in seven months of knowing her. The longer I thought about it, the more I wondered if Louise really told my mother this stuff, or if it was one of my mother’s lies.
The whiteboard next to the fridge caught my attention. For months I’d barely given the list of names and numbers a second glance, but now Nathaniel stood out like it was illuminated in flashing casino lights. I stared at his phone number and considered calling him, but what would I say? Hello, Nathan. It’s Maryah. I found this letter from my dead mother and she said Louise thinks we’re soul mates. What do you think? Was my mom a chronic liar, or do we need to call the men with strappy white coats to take your mother away?
Yet, crazy as it was, I clenched the phone in my hand, wanting to call Nathan so badly my head hurt. I took a deep breath and dialed his number.
After four long rings it went to voicemail. I listened to his greeting and his voice sent a warm tickle through me. I closed my eyes, remembering the same surge when I hugged him the night he gave me my car. All too quickly there was a beep announcing my chance to leave a message. I hung up without saying a word.
Louise came home seconds later. I shoved my mother’s letter in my pocket.
“How has your birthday evening been?” she asked.
Act normal. “Fine.”
“Are you excited about Krista arriving on Saturday?”
“I wish she were here now.” More than ever.
Louise smiled.
I sat on a stool and folded my clasped fingers in my lap. I didn’t want to look nervous, but my hands were shaking. “Have you ever heard of a kindrily?”
Her eyes met mine and it felt like a year passed before she blinked. “Yes. A kindrily is similar to the concept of a family. Kindred spirits that remain connected through many lifetimes.”
Okay, so it was a known theory, but did Louise believe in it? My fingers were numb from the cut-off circulation. I tried to swallow and think of something to say, but I couldn’t.
“What brought that up?” Louise asked.
I played it cool. “I heard it on some television show and didn’t know what it meant.”
She looked shocked. “Really? What show?”
“Oh, um, I can’t remember.” My fingertips were turning purple, so I released my death grip before looking up again. “Do you believe in that stuff?”
She rubbed the back of her neck, her bracelets jingling almost as loud as my heartbeat. “Anything is possible.”
A non-judgmental, impartial answer. Louise stood strongly behind her beliefs. If she thought she and I were part of an eternal family, she would’ve said yes—plain and simple. But why would my mother want me to read her letter if she lied?
Faith! I could talk to her about this without looking mental. She believed in past lives. Her sister talks to the dead. What’s more unbelievable than that? I hopped down off my stool. “I forgot to call Faith back. Better call her before she goes to bed.”
“Okay.”
I bee-lined it to my bedroom.
Faith answered on the first ring. “Hello, Birthday Princess!”
“Hey. Is it too late for a sleepover at your place?”
“Don’t be silly! That’s a fabulous idea. Should we rent a movie? Do you want me to order pizza or Thai? We could—”
“Whatever. I’ll be over in a few. See you soon.”
I packed a bag and returned to the kitchen, but Louise was gone. I scribbled a note telling her I’d be spending the night at Faith’s.
I stared at Nathaniel’s name for eight heartbeats before leaving.
