The Bringer (3 page)

“
And he will not know you’re here. You’ll be very much alone until the day he dies, and then what? On discovery, I believe James would also choose not go to Heaven and stay with you. Is that what you would want for him? For yourself? To be trapped on the plains, on the outside, always looking in at the world, but never able to once again be a part of it. Please trust me, Max, when I say that it’s in your best interests to come with me and be a part of something that you now belong to.”

With my speech over, Max turns from me and back to James. I know he’s considering my words.

At these moments a distinct unease always settles around me. Even though I have never lost a human to this idea before, there is always the possibility that it could happen one day. If I had the need for breath, then I would be holding it right now.

“
Okay,” Max says after a long moment. He turns, bringing his dark eyes to meet mine. “I hear what you’re saying.” He pauses with some consideration. “Look, I’ll come with you as long as you
promise
me that you will take care of James.” The emphasis is on the ‘promise’ and he looks at me with heavy persuasion.

Please, not this again. Once more, if I could breathe, I would sigh right now. I have absolutely no idea why I have found myself committing to this.

“
I promise to do my best, Max.”

Why do I continue to dig myself further and further into this? It’s like I can’t stop myself. Making a promise now, a promise that is impossible for me to keep, a promise that if I do keep, will break the rules I reside by.

He raises his brows, creasing up his forehead. “Well . . . okay, if that’s all I can get you to promise, then I guess it’ll have to do.”

“
Are you ready to go now, Max?”

He gives me a sorrowful look. “No, but I guess no time is ever gonna be right, is it?” Reluctantly, he nods in assent.

“
Take hold of my hand.”

He slips his large hand around mine. “You know, Lucyna, you look really similar to my wife, James’s mother. When I first saw you, for a moment there, I thought you was her . . . you’re not, are you?”

“
No.”

He visibly contracts with relief. “Thought not.” He shakes his head as though clearing his thoughts. “If you were my Maddy, she would have probably given me a good hiding the moment she laid her eyes on me after what I’ve been getting up to over the years since she passed.” He grins, then it suddenly drops from his face. “Oh, boll . . . err . . . blast. She’s gonna be waiting up there for me, isn’t she?” He looks at me expectantly.

“
Yes, Max. I would say she is in Heaven.”

A look of discomfort passes over his face and he takes a deep breath. “She’ll be fine,” he mutters to himself.

I wonder what on earth he’s been doing that makes him fear seeing her so.

“
Okay, let’s get this show on the road,” Max says. “Best not keep God waiting.” His nervousness is very apparent so I press an encouraging smile at him, hoping to offer some ease. But this smile I provide is one that is forced because something is nagging at my thoughts, fluttering around my mind.

“
Close your eyes,” I say, relaying my usual line.

Max takes one last look at James, as all my brings do, taking that one last look at how their life used to be, and I find myself unwittingly following his gaze to where James still stands, his pain clearly evident as he cries silent tears over Max’s body. Then, once again, I’m hit by the shimmering veil strengthening in its intensity.

Pulling my eyes to a close, I instantly take leave, ensuring Max's passage to Heaven and getting myself away from James and this strange shimmering light he brings with him.

Chapter 2

The Promise

I’m confused, to say the least.

Puzzled. Perplexed. Bewildered. Yes, they seem more fitting.

I’ve returned home now, as I have some free time. Home is Pure Land. It lies on the Astral Plane between Heaven and Earth. It’s where all Bringers live, alongside the Elders.

The wonderful thing about home is that it can be whatever I want it to be. For instance, if I want to be standing on a sandy beach whilst the bright moon glows down on me, then I can manifest that to be as I wish.

Which is exactly where I am right now.

I even have gentle waves lapping at the water’s edge, for perfection, allowing the moon to reflect off them artistically, a beautiful sight for me to gaze upon whilst I nomadically wander up and down the shore line in a tireless attempt to work through my puzzled thoughts about James and his shimmering light.

I have been deliberating over many options of what it may actually be as I have never encountered anything like it before.

A thought suddenly strikes me. Maybe James is not human. He could be something otherworldly, something I know not of - but no - the thought is as quickly quashed as it appeared.

James is Max’s son, and Max was very much human.

Maybe James’s mother was otherworldly then? But again, no. Max himself told me the mother had died. She must have been human to have done so.

No mistaking it then, James is human.

Pausing, I sit down on the sand, push my legs into the water and try to imagine what it feels like. Is it warm or cold? How would it be to feel it wash up over my legs? Would it soothe or discomfort me?

I begin to trace my finger over the wet sand. It disappears and emerges, in and out, with my movement, making no indentation at all on the sand itself.

Suddenly, I have the urgency to want to make a mark. So I focus all my attention on trying to push my finger into those tiny grains. Unsurprisingly, it just passes through, as I’m fully aware it will.

Why on earth am I even trying to do such a thing?

I’m plagued. Everything I know is in turmoil. The calamity of all calamities, you could say.

James and his shimmering light. My promise to Max.

What in the world was I even thinking agreeing to this, or not thinking, as the case may be?

And there’s no way I can go back on this as it would be wrong to renege on a promise, thus leaving me no option other than to fulfil it.

But I’ll have to be beyond the realms of careful, because if the Elders ever discover what I have pledged myself to, then there will undoubtedly be consequences to my reckless actions.

What has become of me? Now I’m considering deceiving The Elders, the one thing I chose not to do to Max.

Why am I doing such a thing?

No, I shall not think of that now. There is enough for me to deal with in the here and now, I will address it later.

So, it’s agreed I have to visit James, but I will not go and see him now. I’ll wait maybe, say seven days, and then I’ll just go to where he is, make sure all is fine and leave immediately after. By doing this I will have fulfilled my promise to Max.

Then again, maybe waiting is not the way. Perhaps I should go sooner?

A human’s grief, after all, is the hardest for them in the initial period of mourning. Also, it might be best to get it over and done with, fulfil my promise to Max so the Elders shall never come to learn of what I have tied myself to.

Firstly, though, I must try and understand what the veil of shimmering light is before seeing James again, as it is with him alone that I experience it.

I know this is the case as I have been around many other humans since first encountering him yesterday, and not once did it occur, not once did the shimmering light appear and impose itself on me. So that proves, it’s only when I'm in the company of James when it happens.

If I can understand what it is, then maybe I can somehow dispel it into the ether.

Lying back onto the sand, I stare up at the night sky, the sky we all share, whether we’re ethereal or human. We all reside together in the same atramentous universe.

And what an amazing sight it is. Exquisitely beautiful. Utter blackness. It’s very enthralling.

Black.

Exactly what Arlo tells me is the colour of my hair. If only I could see for myself.

Why am I now wondering these things to this extent? I’m filled with so many questions and have no certain way to the answers.

I trace my eyes carefully over the stars which adorn the sky, each one uniquely beautiful and standing majestic in its own right as I look for a distraction, any distraction, to keep me away from a thought that is consistently trying to present itself as an answer to James’ shimmering light.

I’m reluctant to consider this possibility, because once I do I may not be able to walk away from it. And if this is what I discover to be the truth, then things are very quickly going to become incredibly troublesome for me.

But then, on the other hand, maybe I should consider it. I’m fairly sure it’s not the case, so perhaps I should just think it, get it out in the open, and then I can lay it to rest.

Okay then.

Feelings.

Maybe the veil of shimmering light that struck me could possibly have been feelings. What hit me may have been a wave of emotion. Maybe that’s how I would see feelings, how they would present themselves to me. I mean, I wasn’t aware feelings could be a visual thing, but maybe James’ grief was so overwhelming that it emitted from him in that form.

No, it just doesn’t sound right as I say it in my own mind. I’ve obviously encountered grief, in many different forms and have never had that, or any other emotion, present itself in that way.

Then a thought strikes me like a bolt of lightning.

Oh no. It couldn’t be - could it?

Could this have been a feeling that I alone incurred. Nothing whatsoever to do with James.

My own feelings?

No. To choose that option, is – well, not an option. It’s inconceivable. I don’t feel. It’s not possible. Bringers don’t feel.

To consider that I had James’ feelings somehow imposed on me, causing me momentarily to feel them is bad enough, but to consider that I am beginning to feel . . . no, it can’t be.

I lift my hands up to look at them. They sparkle and shine against the night sky, just as always. Nothing different. I appear to be the same but, then again, how would I know what feelings are like to be able to distinguish between them? Or may it be possible that I’m not feeling physically, just emotionally?

Well it doesn’t appear to be happening at the moment as there is no veil of shimmering light. It only presents itself when I’m near James. But why would I feel only in his presence? If that’s what’s happening - would it not happen all the time?

Oh Lord, what am I to do? I’m impounded by confusion. I wish I could ask for your unbiased help, for your guidance through this confounding time.

Maybe I should speak to Arlo about this; he is so wise and knowledgeable. He may know the answers I so desperately seek.

But, then again, if it is feeling that is happening to me, Arlo would have to tell the Elders of my problem, and then what would happen? Surely the Elders wouldn’t let me near a human ever again, thus meaning I would never again take a human to Heaven. I would no longer be a Bringer. I’d never be allowed to Earth. I would spend my eternity in Pure Land. What would I do? What would become of me?

I can’t let that happen. I’ll just have to figure this out alone.

Well, as it appears to be James that causes this problem I’m having, then I will just stay away from him, problem solved, but oh no . . . my promise to Max. This, without a doubt, means that I will have to see James again.

It’s not within me to break a promise, no matter how much I may wish it. ‘Catch twenty-two’, as they say.

Okay, so I shall fulfil my duty to Max and check upon James once, and once only, thus keeping my promise, though only in part, as going to see James once and never again is most definitely not ‘checking in from time to time’.

What to do? What to do?

It suddenly becomes abundantly clear to me that the time for thinking has now passed. I have to take decisive action as my solitary thoughts are obviously getting me nowhere.

Rising easily to my feet, I turn from the water and walk across the sand, closing my eyes as I prepare to travel. The glorious beach slowly disintegrates in the wake of my departure as I now think of going to the only one who may be able to provide the much needed answers to my impatient, burning questions.

James.

And as quickly as I think his name, then no sooner are my eyes meeting with his.

He’s sat on a sofa, feet up on a coffee table, a bottle of drink in his hand - alcohol I believe it to be.

I glance around, taking in my surroundings, and find myself in a house, what I assume to be James’s house.

The television is on and I see that even though he is staring at it, his eyes look to be somewhere else, somewhere very far from here. He looks tired. His face is pale. His eyes are red and puffy.

I sit down on the coffee table next to where his bare feet are resting, fix my eyes to him, and brace myself for the inevitable light to hit me.