A Symphony of Cicadas by Crissi Langwell Read Free Book Online Page B

her brush as a pointer, she went on.
    “There’s a beginning, a middle, and an end. Everyone’s string is a different length ; some shorter , some longer . You can’t move backwards or up and down. The on ly way to move is forward.” She then drew a circle in the dirt around the line before filling it in so the line no longer existed. “When your spirit is free of your body, you are able to experience time much closer to how our source of energy experiences time. It still exists, but it’s not on a string. Instead, we’re able to go as fast or as slow as we want, jumping from moment to moment in the blink of an eye. You can move forward, backward, side to side. The possibilities are endless .”
    Rose reached over and picked a berry from a nearby bush and held it up.
    “The reason is because all of this is happening at once, with no point of beginning or end, not even a middle. There is no yesterday or tomorrow. The past is now. The future is now .”
    She smiled and took my hand.
    “But that’s a pretty heavy concept that even we can’t ful ly grasp until we are reunited with our source of energy. So for now, we can just hop from one moment to the next.”
    “So, can we control where we land?” I asked her. “I mean, would it be possible to say ‘take me to 1953,’ and then just end up there?”
    “We’re not time machines,” she chuckled. “But yes and no. If you can feel it, you can be there.”
    “What if I envision a person?  Can I be close to them?” I asked , not even trying to hide the hopefulness in the question. I was still troubled over where Joey might be, even more so after seeing the vision the cicadas had given me of his broken body and the hovering light that disappeared with as much mystery as it appeared. But a different urgency was building inside me as I grew more comfortable in my new existence. I could feel my heart torn at the thought that I’d never see John again, feel his embrace, or even just see myself through his eyes when he looked my way.
    I could see Rose’s eyes cloud over, a concerned look appearing on her face.
    “Darling, I wouldn’t get too attached to those who are still alive,” she cautioned, as if she could read my mind. “It would be best if you just let them be and moved on. I know there are people you love and miss terrib ly . But staying for them will on ly keep you from the greatest happiness you could ever experience, and leave you stuck in an internal prison of unnatural pain, never letting up until you learn to let go .”
    She held my hands and squeezed them so tight it caught me off guard . Her hold loosened on ly when I tried to pull away. She looked away for a second, and then gave me an embarrassed smile . “Rachel, please just trust me on this.”
    “Why are you telling me this, Aunt Rose?” I asked her, irritated about this limitation she was placing on me . “I mean, you’re here, aren’t you?  And you’re fine, right?”
    “Rachel, I would give anything to be free from this divide.”
    “But who are you waiting for?” I implored her . “What’ s causing you to be stuck here?”
    “Don’t you know , darling? I’ve stayed for you and Sara.”
    I was flooded with sudden emotion, the reality of how much Aunt Rose had loved us becoming apparent with her sacrifice of happiness for us . I thought of the past twenty-five years, when her memory had come to me out of nowhere, providing me with a sense of comfort in times when I felt the most alone . I wondered if it was in those times she had been near me, watching me from another reality while trapping herself in a world she couldn’t escape. She’d had no children in her lifetime, showering Sara and me with a love she would probab ly have reserved for her own children had she become a mother . And just as she had in her life, Aunt Rose had spent the last two and a half decades loving my sister and me while watching over us . I re alized that even though she had died, she ’d