When Through Deep Waters Read online

  “I was chasing—” Alicen started.

  “You know what I mean,” Louise said. Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. She was referring to the fetal position she’d found Alicen in. Covered in mud, soaked, cold deep below her skin. Even if Alicen could miraculously convince Louise someone had broken into their home, what was she supposed to say to rationalize away that moment? A moment when all rationality had been lost.

  Silence engulfed the two friends, Alicen unable to find words, Louise waiting for her to try. The wind whistled outside the kitchen windows, raindrops still tapping against the glass. Every couple of beats the night sky was illuminated with another strike of lightning, followed by another wave of thunder. The storm didn’t look to be letting up anytime soon.

  “Listen,” Louise said, “I’m not trying to push you. But I know you, Alicen. I know how tight to the chest you like to keep things. And I just . . .” She paused, considering her words.

  Alicen knew what she was thinking. She wanted Alicen to be less broken. But Alicen couldn’t be anything other than what she was, and she was broken. Completely broken. She stole a glance at the wheels working behind Louise’s eyes. Her friend searching for the right thing to say, the words that would help. Again Alicen was reminded of all the kindness she’d been shown. Louise deserved to believe Alicen was trying, even if Alicen knew trying was futile.

  “You’re right,” Alicen said.

  “I just . . . ,” Louise said again.

  “I know,” Alicen reassured her.

  Another batch of silence cupped the room for a long moment.

  “I’ll talk to Dr. Wells, but not till Friday,” Alicen said.

  Louise gave her another worried glance.

  “I already have an appointment, but I will talk to him. I promise,” Alicen said.

  Louise nodded. “I hope so.” She exhaled, pushed herself away from the counter, and rubbed her temples in small circles. A quiet yawn escaped from her mouth. “You need anything else before I head to bed?” she asked.

  Alicen shook her head, and Louise padded toward her. She reached her hand out and gave Alicen’s shoulder a tiny squeeze. “Try and get some rest, okay?”

  Alicen nodded, and Louise released her hold. Alicen sat there while she listened to Louise make her way across the house to her bedroom. Listened as the old house groaned from the ongoing storm, listened as Louise fell completely silent and asleep, listened as the night got deeper and the morning closer. Alicen sat there, thinking about Jane, thinking about the shadow, thinking about her sanity, thinking about her trouble. “All are troubled,” Victoria had said. Alicen swallowed the truth like a pill. Troubled indeed.

  “Do you feel that, Alicen?” Grandma Joe asked.

  “Feel what?” Alicen was watching her feet swing back and forth over the water below as her legs dangled from the side of the wooden bridge. The sun was warm on her back, and she was happy to have taken off her yellow windbreaker and tied it around her waist. Summer was almost here, which meant no more school and plenty of trips to Red Lodge with the Watson family. Alicen was so excited she could hardly keep still.

  “The power in the water,” Grandma Joe said.

  Alicen watched the small river below flowing by at an easy pace. This was one of their favorite spots. When her mom picked up an extra shift at work, and when it was warm enough, Grandma Joe would bring her out into the forest to their bridge. Grandma Joe had told her once that if they got lucky, magical creatures could be spotted. White bats, the size of small children, with karate skills. Alicen was always on the lookout for one, but she’d never seen any. She wondered if that was another thing that lived only in Grandma Joe’s imagination.

  It didn’t bother Alicen that some of the things Grandma Joe talked about she couldn’t always see. She wasn’t too concerned with whether or not they were real. Sometimes she saw things from her imagination too. She thought maybe all kids did, and then they became adults and forgot how. But not Grandma Joe. She was special, and she said Alicen was special too.

  “It just looks like water to me,” Alicen said.

  “You aren’t looking close enough,” Grandma Joe said.

  Alicen pulled her head closer to her knees and stared intently at the moving liquid. It was pretty clear for a river. You couldn’t see all the way to the bottom—it was too deep for that—but you could make out fish swimming close to the surface and the rocks that ran along the edges.

  Alicen stared for what felt like an eternity before huffing, annoyed, and sitting back upright. “I don’t see anything,” she said, frustrated.

  “Hmm. Well, maybe it’s your eyes,” Grandma Joe said.

  “My eyes?” Alicen asked, squinting up at her grandmother. “Is there something wrong with them?”

  Grandma Joe smiled down at her and chuckled. She reached out and placed her hands carefully on both sides of Alicen’s face, her thumbs close to the outer edges of Alicen’s eyes. “Not these eyes,” she said as she teasingly pulled down on Alicen’s cheeks, making her bottom lids stretch out.

  Alicen giggled and shaped her mouth into a scary growl to match her long face. Grandma Joe released Alicen’s face and tapped a single finger to the middle of Alicen’s chest. “These ones,” she said.

  Alicen dropped her eyes to where her grandmother was pointing and scrunched her nose. “My chest?” she said, confused.

  “Your heart,” Grandma Joe said.

  “My heart has eyes?” Alicen asked as she raised her head back up to look at her grandmother for explanation.

  “Of course; everyone’s does. They’re the most important part of you.”

  Alicen tried to imagine what the eyes on her heart might look like. “How is that possible?”

  “They aren’t like the eyes you know; they are stronger, and they see the world differently. They use your spirit. Free of fear and condemnation.”

  Alicen used to think the way Grandma Joe spoke was silly, but now she found it comforting. Like she was sharing secrets with Alicen, bonding them together forever. Alicen gave her grandma a skeptical look and then shook her head. “I don’t know about that. How do they see through my skin?”

  Grandma Joe smiled and scooted slightly so she was sitting nearly behind Alicen. She raised her hands and gently placed them over Alicen’s eyes, blotting out the world.

  Alicen laughed. Was this going to be one of her grandma’s games? She loved Grandma Joe’s games. She could feel her body fill with excitement, and she bounced a couple times in her seated position.

  “Let’s practice this. Practice is important, you know. Jesus said that the eye is the lamp of the body, so if your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Alicen said.

  “It’s about the way you see yourself, about the perspective you have of who you are. And how the world around you should look. When you remember to see yourself as he taught, the world is captured in grace and light; when you forget, there will be shadows. Can you see it?”

  “You’re covering my eyes,” Alicen said through a giggle. “I can’t see anything.”

  “Use the eyes of your heart. Look deeper, beyond your earthly vision. Use what you feel. See with your spirit. Focus on that. You got it?”

  Alicen nodded.

  “Now, what do you see?” Grandma Joe asked.

  Alicen searched hard, picturing the backs of her eyelids, though she didn’t really know what they looked like. She listened to the sounds around her, felt the wind on her skin, the sun spreading across her knees. She wanted to see with her heart, wanted to believe in all her grandmother was talking about, so she strained harder, until something broke through. Alicen gasped, her little mouth expanding, as the corners pulled up with glee.

  “Listen carefully, because you’re going to need to remember this many times as you grow,” Grandma Joe said. “The warmth filling your heart right now, the light filling your vision, it comes from the perfect love that created you. A
love that tells you who you are. A love the world has forgotten.”

  “I’ll never forget,” Alicen said.

  Grandma Joe let her hands fall, and Alicen tilted her chin up to see tears filling her grandmother’s eyes. Grandma Joe stroked Alicen’s cheek and softly bopped the tip of her nose.

  Concern filled Alicen’s frame. She jumped up, spun toward Grandma Joe, and wrapped her arms around the old woman’s neck. Grandma Joe pulled her close and placed a sweet kiss on Alicen’s bare shoulder.

  “I’ll never forget,” Alicen said again.

  “I know, sweet girl,” Grandma Joe whispered. “I know.”

  The bell dinged overhead as Alicen pushed open the glass entry to the small corner market. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled her senses, and she smiled. It always smelled like Christmas in this little store, no matter the time of year. When Alicen was young, she and Louise used to beg until Mrs. Watson gave each of them a dollar so they could come get whatever fresh-out-of-the-oven treat Mrs. Goldenberg, the store owner, had baked that morning. Her daughter now ran the place, but clearly Mrs. Goldenberg was still making warm treats, or maybe the walls had just absorbed the permanent delicious smell? Alicen knew she would have to investigate.

  Corner Market, perfectly named without a trace of originality, was only a couple storefronts up from the Watsons’ bookstore, and after working most of the morning, Alicen had offered to grab them something to eat while Louise finished up cataloging. The little shop didn’t offer much selection, but the food was good and homemade. That was worth more than a whole menu full of options.

  Alicen smiled at the middle-aged woman behind the checkout counter and started toward the deli. Some small subs and a salad to share sounded good. She took her time, glancing up and down the aisles at the couple of other faces in the store. Her mind wandered, remembering the way her sneakers used to screech across the tiled floor and the way Lou’s eyes had always been bigger than her stomach.

  The morning had found Louise and Alicen much more relaxed. Alicen had only gotten a couple hours of sleep, confronted with another strange dream of her grandmother, but she’d played it off and forced her most positive attitude so as not to conjure any more worry from Louise. They’d headed to the bookstore after breakfast and had been a solid, well-functioning team as they’d continued to divide and conquer. The sheer number of things stuffed into every corner of the bookstore was alarming. They were nowhere near finished, but it was good to be focused on something outside of herself.

  “Alicen?” someone called from behind.

  Alicen turned her head to see a dark-skinned, elderly woman, short, with silver hair and painted-on dark-purple lipstick smiling at her, a small wicker basket clutched in one hand. The woman wasn’t familiar to Alicen, but she clearly knew who Alicen was and seemed surprised to see her.

  “Oh my goodness, it is you. Alicen Reese—well, I’ll be, and in Red Lodge, of all places,” the woman said.

  Alicen smiled politely. “I’m sorry; have we met?”

  “Not in several decades. I’m Annie Beckered. I’m just in town for the day. I knew your grandmother back in Billings, before her . . .” The woman took a pause. “Before she changed.”

  Annie’s direct statement stirred the pain brewing in Alicen’s chest.

  “You were so little then; I don’t expect you to remember me. Why would you?” Annie asked with a slight laugh. “Silly of me to even consider it.”

  Alicen smiled again, unsure how to respond.

  “What brings you back to this old place? I would have never in my wildest dreams imagined running into you here. Of all places,” the old woman rambled. “How is your mother? You really do favor her, you know. I bet people tell you that all the time.”

  “She’s fine,” Alicen answered when the woman finally paused.

  “Oh, good. I always liked that Betty Reese. Good head on her shoulders, especially all things considered.”

  Again, pain pinched at the insides of Alicen’s ribs. She opened her mouth to interject before Annie continued, but the woman couldn’t be stopped.

  “It was an awful situation your mother got dealt, with Josephine and all. Can you imagine losing your mother to such a state? You know, before it all happened, your grandmother and I went to church together, so I tried to offer help to your mother where I could. It seemed like the least I could do. You being so young, and your mother all on her own. I don’t know how she managed it all without losing all her own sanity.”

  Alicen tried once more to interrupt the intrusive woman’s word vomit but to no avail.

  “I was glad your mother kept you away from here after Josephine passed. My condolences, of course. Such a tragedy, the whole thing, and surprising. To see such a lovely Christian woman lose her mind in such a way. Terrible, really terrible.”

  Alicen had had enough. “Yes, thank you,” she said. “I actually really need to get going, though, Mrs. Beckered.”

  Annie let out a shrill chuckle and raised her hand. “Of course you do, dear. Here I am rambling on about things of the past, holding you up. It’s wonderful to have bumped into you. You know, I read somewhere that these situations affect the children most, so I’m thrilled to see you doing so well.”

  Alicen forced a smile and bit back her growing fear.

  “You tell that wonderful mother of yours I said hello, will you?” Annie said.

  “Of course.”

  Annie reached out and gave Alicen’s forearm a squeeze. “It really is so good to see you, child. If you need anything while you’re in town, you let me know.”

  Alicen nodded with another forced smile. Annie returned the gesture and released Alicen’s arm. Alicen didn’t hesitate; she pushed passed the elderly woman, desperate to leave the small store that suddenly seemed to be closing in around her.

  8

  Alicen left the small corner market empty-handed, brain on full cylinders. Against all her efforts, painful memories from the past were being dragged into the present. Alicen could still remember when Principal Higgins had knocked on her seventh-grade classroom door and announced he needed to see Alicen in his office.

  As she had followed the principal down the hallway, somewhere in the back of her mind she’d sensed whatever was coming next would change her. Alicen had carried a strange sense of knowledge about it the days leading up to her grandmother’s death. The two of them had been connected. In a way that was different than she’d experienced with anyone else. Until Jane.

  Josephine Reese, known to most as Grandma Joe, had been sick according to the rest of the world. She saw things that weren’t there, talked to herself, raved about being called to change the world. But she hadn’t always been that way. It seemed to come on suddenly and then changed her completely. As if something had come to life in her that had been dormant before.

  People whispered about what it might be. Schizophrenia. Delirium. Dementia. Nothing was ever confirmed. Grandma Joe refused medical attention, and without ever being a harm to herself or others, she couldn’t be forced to seek treatment. That didn’t stop the town from buzzing about her perceived insanity, though. People could be so cruel. Once a lively part of the community, Josephine was cast out and marked as a “nut.”

  It had been too much for Alicen’s grandfather. After years of fighting with Josephine, he’d given up and left, forcing Betty, a single mother, to move back to her childhood home in Billings with four-year-old Alicen in tow.

  Maybe it was because she was so young or because they had bonded so quickly, but Alicen never remembered thinking Grandma Joe was anything other than wonderful. She’d just felt the unconditional love of a grandmother, a love she lacked from her mother. Alicen thought the stars rose and fell with Josephine.

  The schoolyard did a good job of reminding Alicen that Grandma Joe was different. Children could be mean, all too willing to repeat what they’d heard their parents whisper around the dinner table.

  Alicen had always come to her grandmother’s defen
se. People just didn’t know her the way Alicen did. Not even her only daughter. Alicen had loved the old woman fiercely and so had felt a responsibility for her. They’d spend hours in the backyard, lying under the clouds, counting the stars, listening to the wind, searching for more.

  Sometimes Louise joined them. Stephanie Watson was one of the only mothers in town who wasn’t afraid Grandma Joe would infect her child. That was one of the reasons Lou and Alicen had become so close. There had been a time when Grandma Joe and Lou were Alicen’s only friends, and they were enough for her.

  Everything was different after Josephine died. Brain aneurysm. Sudden and swift. She was there and then she wasn’t. Nobody said it, but you could see it in their eyes. It was her crazy that got her in the end. Alicen’s mother had taken Josephine’s sudden death poorly. Even with all their differences, it broke her heart.

  A couple of months later, it was time for another change, and Betty had dragged Alicen away from everything she’d known to the great state of California to “start over.” Alicen had been right to carry a sense of foreboding in the days leading up to her grandmother’s death. Everything had changed after that; the magic of the world had been erased, and Alicen had been forced to grow up, to face reality.

  A car rolled by slowly, yanking Alicen back to the lonely streets of Red Lodge. She tried to shake away the memories as the sun warmed her shoulders and the breeze tickled her cheeks. But the past was hard to lock back in its box.

  A sound disrupted her efforts to regain control. Something was chirping, painfully it seemed, and close by. Alicen took a couple steps forward, following the noise. She thought it was echoing out from the narrow alleyway that stretched between the Watsons’ bookstore and Gina’s Gems, the jewelry store beside it.

  Alicen crossed in front of Gina’s Gems and turned her head down the alley. It was empty. The sound came again, surely from the small walkable space between the buildings, and Alicen searched for its source. Her eyes caught something twitching slightly, about halfway down, and Alicen stepped around the bricked corner toward it.