The Bringer (5 page)

James seemed to want to conceal his grief, but I knew it. It was emanating from him so strongly that I could practically feel it, and I was staggered by the intensity of those feelings. Then it only proceeded to get worse when I had to watch others provide comfort to him, something I very much wished to be able to do myself. Sara was the main comfort provider and the feelings I had to overcome from that were almost unbearable.

Straight after the funeral I was called away to tend to my duties. I didn’t want to leave James and it was much later before I was able to return to him. I arrived to find him laid in bed, the room shrouded in darkness, his eyes open staring blankly up at the ceiling. He didn’t sleep at all that night and I stayed with him, wishing his pain away.

And in all of this time spent with James, the only thing I have managed to figure out is that I’m in trouble. Big trouble.

I haven’t found any way to rid myself of these feelings, and the emotional feelings I have for James seem to be growing with unbearable intensity. They are getting more and more out of control as time passes.

I’m finding the longer I have them, the more I’m not so sure I even want to rid myself of them. Frighteningly, I’m becoming accustomed to them, even though things are becoming increasingly difficult for me.

You see, I have all of these feelings but no way in which to express them, no way to release them. It’s as if they’re building up inside of me and I wonder what will happen when I reach boiling point.

It’s not like I can talk to Arlo or any of the other Bringers about this. I talk to James, often, but obviously he doesn’t hear me. A part of me wishes he could. A big part.

As time has gone on, I have also found myself feeling for other humans. Not in the same way, or with the same intensity as I have for James - I’m still yet to fully understand just exactly what type of feelings these are - but now, when I take a human to Heaven, it’s become increasingly difficult for me to witness them struggling to come to terms with their deaths. I assume I’m feeling compassion and sorrow, but I could be wrong in this. Also, the pain from the humans they leave behind seems to reverberate all around, striking me from all angles, nearly knocking me senseless.

Everything as I knew it to be is gone. I’m so very confused. I want these feelings, and I don’t. I want to be how I used to be, and I don’t. My rational thoughts are being overtaken by emotions and I have no idea of what to do.

Also I seem to be careless of how much time I’m spending away from home. I’m sure the others will have begun to notice my distinct absence. I know Arlo, above all, will have noticed. I am being completely, and utterly reckless. I know the consequences of my actions but yet I still continue on as I am. So far Arlo has not yet sought me out to speak about this, but I know it’s only a matter of time. What if he does whilst I’m with James? How would I explain that away? Honestly, I have no idea of what I am going to say to him when the time comes. What explanation I can provide? I don’t wish to deceive Arlo, but neither can I tell him the truth.

Truly, I wonder how long I can continue in this way. James is consuming all of me and I’m losing the distinction of who I am or what is right any more.

I’m standing outside Heaven, having just guided the human - Summer Sophia Davies - through. I have another bring to attend to soon but have some spare time beforehand. I can feel myself being pulled to James, something I am fast becoming used too. But no, I have to stop and start thinking rationally about my situation.

Instead of immediately going to James as I usually do, I stay where I am and take a moment to clear my thoughts. I glance around my surroundings.

It’s been so long since I just stood still and looked around the outskirts of Heaven. What a beautiful sight it is. The varying shades of pinks, blues, greens and purples, all blending genially into one another in sparkling enchantment. It makes me wonder whether, if the outside is as lovely as this, just how wonderful it is inside Heaven itself. I imagine it to be glorious. How lucky those humans are who are granted entrance to it.

For a tiny moment, I begin feel more like myself, how I used to be before all of this. Then my mind immediately slips back to my woe.

Okay, so what I need to do is divide my time more evenly. It won’t solve my problem, but it will help not to arouse the suspicions of the others if I am at least around them more than I currently have been. I shall go now and see Arlo, spend some time with him. Then later I shall go to James. Easy.

I arrive to find Arlo with Rosamund. They are both standing amongst the throngs of humans at BC Place Stadium in Vancouver.

The realisation hits me like a dull thud.

It’s the Winter Olympics. Arlo and I always watch together and it’s been running for a few days now. I cannot believe I have forgotten this. I never forget anything.

Arlo will note my absence with curiosity.

“
Lucyna,” he practically smiles my name, “it’s been some time since I saw you last.”

And as I look at him, I instantly see him in a whole new light. Never before did I realise how truly beautiful a being he is. My vision was previously dulled by my lack of feelings, but now I’m equipped with them and this been the first time I’ve seen him since it happened.

“
I know, Arlo. I have been busy. I have been venturing around the globe in search of new and wondrous sights.”

I just lied.

Lied.

Where did that even come from? I didn’t know I was capable of such a thing. I’m covered with shame. I daren’t look at either of them for fear of giving myself away.

“
I can understand that,” Arlo says nodding. “Rosamund and I have just been watching the wondrous sports on display here.” He casts his arm around.

“
Hello, Lucyna,” Rosamund says.

“
Hello, Rosamund,” I reply, in return.

Arlo turns to me. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to attend this year.”

“
I would never miss this,” I answer a little too quickly. I force a smile onto my lips, hoping to be convincing enough. But then, why would Arlo ever have reason not to believe me? He wouldn’t. That very thought sickens me.

Suddenly, the crowd of humans erupt into cheers as one of the competitors wins a race. The sound is practically thunderous. Oddly, it fills me with a warm glow. I quickly cast it aside, fearing Arlo and Rosamund will notice.

Rosamund shakes her head. “I shall never understand these humans. They are so competitive with one another.”

“
Rosamund, this is something humans appear to like very much,” Arlo says, without taking his eyes off the ever-growing crowd which is gathering around the victor. “It appears to make them happy.”

I’m suddenly bothered by Rosamund’s words. If she thinks this way, then why is she even attending? She doesn’t usually.

Then a terrifying thought strikes me. Does she know about me? About James? Is that why she is here?

No, that’s ridiculous. Of course she doesn’t know. She can’t know . . . can she?

“
Yes, that is an obvious fact,” Rosamund replies, interrupting my inner conflict. “But they are such fickle creatures. I shall never understand them, and I do not wish too.” She waves her hand dismissively.

I look away, pretending to be distracted by my surroundings, not wanting to be part of this conversation, knowing I no longer share her thought processes. Or did I really ever?

“
So, Lucyna have you made any new discoveries on your travels?” Arlo asks.

“
Unfortunately, no.” The lies are slipping so easily from my mouth. I feel as though I’m coated in them.

“
Well, I have been considering doing the same for some time myself. Next time I shall come with you. If you have no objection, of course?”

I fix my eyes ahead. “Of course not, Arlo. You are always welcome.”

“
Time for me to go,” says Rosamund.

I’m relieved at the conversation break, but not welcoming Rosamund’s imminent departure as it will leave Arlo and me alone and I fear I won’t be able to keep my pretence up for much longer in that circumstance. Why did I not consider how hard this would be before coming?

Rosamund nods at us both respectively, then vanishes from sight. Momentarily, I find myself wondering where she is going to. Which human will she be taking to Heaven? Unexpectedly, I feel awash with sorrow and I very quickly quell it.

Arlo begins to walk through the arena and I follow along.

“
I believe Rosamund is missing out on much learning there is to be done from humans. I find there to be distinctly much more to them than the categorisation she gives them. Do you agree, Lucyna?”

I can feel his eyes on me, a very surreal experience.

“
Yes. I am inclined to agree with you, Arlo.”
Much more than you realise
, I silently add.

“
And that is why I spend my time with you, Lucyna. We think alike.”

And you, Arlo, are my friend, my dear friend
, I find myself wanting to say, but instead I simply answer, “Yes, we do.”

My mind is swamped with guilt. I’m sure it is covering me in some obvious way. I glance sideways at Arlo as we walk on in silence, and feel an instant swell of affection for him. It throws me.

Instantly I find myself wanting to tell Arlo my troubles. They're practically bursting out of me. I want to unburden this guilt I have, rid myself of this internal conflict, seek his advice. Because, more than anything, I want help; I need help.

But my rash thoughts are quickly dampened as I know I never will, never can. I’m too ashamed and afraid to do so. I know I wouldn’t be able to endure the consequences of my actions.

I’m all alone in this.

I wish things would go back to the way they were before I ever saw James. I wish I had never met him.

But do I really? Do I really want to go back to what now seems an empty existence since experiencing the phenomenon of feelings?

Do I truly want to walk away from James? Never again see him.

That thought alone fills me with consternation.

“
When is your next bring, Lucyna?” asks Arlo, breaking me from my reverie.

“
Very soon, Arlo. Minutes. You?”

“
In twenty minutes. I’m going to Thailand. Such a beautiful place –” but I can’t hear him any more, all I can hear is the name that’s now echoing around my mind, the name of my next bring, the one that has pinned me to this stony floor.

James Maxwell Harrison.

I feel sheer and utter horror. Hysteria practically leaps up and grabs hold of me. It’s so overwhelming, momentarily I don’t know what to do with it.

Arlo, noticing my abrupt stop, turns back and looks at me with curiosity. “Lucyna?”

I can’t move. I can’t speak.

No. It can’t be. Not him. Not James.

Arlo’s eyebrow arches in confusion. “Lucyna?” he reiterates, taking a step toward me, awakening me.

“
Time for me to go, Arlo.” I desperately try to make my voice sound even. “I shall see you soon.”

I don’t wait for his response. I have no time.

My next actions are beyond me. My thoughts are erratic, scattered. The only thing I know for sure is that I have to save James. Nothing else matters. Just save him.

Instantly I’m there, looking at a burning car which is entangled with a tree, and trapped inside is James.

There’s ninety seconds left before he’s scheduled to die.

What do I do? Can I save him? Can I stop what God has set in motion? Surely not, I have no such power to override God’s will.

But, James.

Eighty-five . . . eighty-four . . . eighty-three . . .

Without warning, an odd sensation suddenly ripples right through my very being and then something overtakes me. Before I know it I’m at the car, yanking the door open, pushing back the air bag and pulling at James’s limp body. He’s stuck. Frantically I search around to see what’s trapping him. It’s his seat belt. I tug hard but it doesn’t give way. I follow its lead to the end, press a button and hear a click. It unravels in my hand. Taking hold of James, I put his arm around me and pull him from the car.

I half carry, half drag him down the gravelly road, his feet scraping along as I do so. Then once we’re a safe distance from the car, I carefully lay him down on the ground and sit beside him.

Then it hits me.

I’m holding James. Physically touching him. I have carried him.

How?

I look down at myself and see a human body, skin covering every part of me. I’m wearing clothes. I look at my hands. I have fingernails. I’m solid matter. I look like a human.

What . . . how . . . how did this happen? How did I become this way? Questions are spilling from my mind.

Stop, Lucyna, there is no time for this.

I quickly gather myself together and look down at James. His skin is covered in black soot and he has some cuts on his face. A large one near his hairline has blood trickling from it, the blood clotting into his hair.