The Space Between (16 page)

But now his heart was pumping, forcing blood and oxygen through his muscles and brain with a purpose. There was still that slight tug at the center of his body, something urging him out of the chair and toward the stairs. He felt a cold sweat break out across his brow and became frightened by the sensation. It felt alien, an unexpected presence there in the room with him beckoning him to follow its lead.

So he did. Whatever was pulling at him (an entity, his subconscious,
whatever
), it was not too strong to rebel against, but he felt a sense of relief in allowing himself to go along. Really, he didn't need to pay much attention to where it wished him to go; he knew where he was headed.

Up the stairs, turn right and walk a few steps down the dark hall until that sliver of light pops into his vision before slipping away again. Isaac took a step back and found it. Without the slightest hesitation, he stepped forward and opened the door, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

Elizabeth
was sitting on her bed again, reading her Bible by lamplight. She had a serious look about her, her brow drawn down into a frown of concentration. She must have caught the ripple of Isaac's entry in her peripheral vision because she looked up just as his other foot landed on her floor. He was immediately enthralled with the image of her sitting there: her legs bent at the knee, her feet peeking out from under the hem of her long nightgown, her hair looking much like waves of molten gold in the dim lamplight.

Isaac was caught off guard by the look on her face, however. As he stepped through and she looked up at him, her studious look shifted to one of fear. Her eyes went from narrow slits to wide, round orbs of white and blue. The muscles at her throat twitched as she swallowed, and he could tell she had stopped breathing momentarily. Suddenly, before he could move another step closer, she swung her legs off of the bed and ran for the window.

He watched only for a few seconds, as stunned at her behavior as she apparently was at his appearance. Her lips seemed to want to shape out words and her chest hitched trying to take in air, but she said nothing. She only fumbled at the window latch while shooting glances his way and fighting against the terror she seemed overcome with.

"
Elizabeth
," he spoke, moving toward her. "It's me. Isaac."

She didn't seem to hear him so he drew closer and spoke louder.

"
Elizabeth
! Calm down! It's only me!"

He was speaking above a whisper now and feared her father or someone else in the house might hear him. He had no choice; she was on her way to becoming frantic if he couldn't calm her immediately. As he reached her, he grabbed her wrist with one hand and put another on her shoulder, leaning in and speaking her name once again.

This seemed to do the trick, though not as quickly as he expected. She looked at him for a moment as if the devil himself had appeared in her room, ready to take her soul down to Hell. Then her fear lessened, her face and eyes relaxing before settling into a strange look that he could only identify as wonder.

"It's you," she said, her eyes skipping all over his face and body as if she still couldn't believe he was standing right there, holding her arm. "It really is you. Isaac?"

"Yes, it's me. I'm sorry if I scared you, but I had to come back. I was worried."

"Worried?" The look of amazement flared in her eyes. "About me?"

"Of course," he answered, thrown off by the way she was staring at him. There was also a lack of the urgency in her voice he'd expected this time. "I was afraid your father might have gone off the deep end since he last saw me."

Elizabeth
kept staring at him, every word bouncing off of her as if he was speaking a foreign language. She didn't seem in the least bit worried about being caught with him in the room.

"Father was upset, of course, and he refused to believe me when I told him how you'd gotten here. He doesn't trust me, I'm afraid. I can't quite blame him considering the circumstances."

Her confusion now seemed to be transferred to Isaac. The young woman was too calm about the matter, seemingly relieved that he was there. He was sure she would at least be worried about her father, worried about what he planned to do with her. Her lack of concern threw Isaac off and he wasn't sure what to say. He let her continue.

"But now you're here. I knew you'd come for a reason, Isaac." She spoke his name as if she were sipping a fine wine, her eyes darting to meet his before moving back along his neck and shoulders. "My angel, Isaac. And father
must
believe me now when he sees you. Even he couldn't deny such a miracle."

Isaac finally let go of
Elizabeth
's wrist and gripped both of her shoulders in his hands. She looked straight into his eyes and he shivered at the reverence he saw there. It was not the same love and devotion he remembered from his previous visits. The look she wore now made him feel slightly uncomfortable, undeserving.

"Are you serious? You want him to see me face to face? Don't you remember the last time we crossed paths? He was hardly cordial."

"But don't you see?" she asked, slipping her hands between his to take his face lightly in her fingertips. "If he turned his back on this he would be denying everything he believes in. I can see in your eyes that you're not evil; you're no demon. Only an angel could do what you've done."

Isaac took her hands into his, pulling them down to hold between them as they stood at the window. He shook his head slowly, trying to make sense of her words and demeanor. This was not the same worried, frightened woman he'd seen last. She was anxious to confront her father with him at her side. Had she not heard the rage in
Obediah's
voice when he'd last seen Isaac in his daughter's bedroom? There didn't seem to be much room in that roar of anger for convincing.

"I'm hardly an angel, Elizabeth. But I am here to help you. You have to believe that. Don't you have anyone who can get you out of here? Someone you can trust to keep you safe until the authorities can deal with your father?"

She frowned. "I don't understand."

"
Your father
," he said, becoming frustrated. "You saw the journal. You know what he's capable of."

Fear was creeping back into
Elizabeth
's visage and Isaac was hopeful that his point was being made. But she broke his grip and stepped away from him, putting several feet between them and backing up against her bed.

"I don't know what you're speaking of, but you're starting to frighten me."

He was at a loss. Short of grabbing her and forcing her back through the door with him, he didn't know what to do. Was she so loyal to her father that she refused to see how unstable the man was? Was he missing something, not making his point clear enough to convince her of the danger she faced?
What else did she need, for God's sake!

He took a step toward her, but stopped when she cringed. It tore at his heart and he sighed.

"Listen, please. I'm not here to frighten you. I'm here to protect you from that man. I..." and he paused, not sure exactly how she would take what he wanted to say. But then he recalled the look in her eyes on the previous visits, the way she gave herself to him in that moment of pure surrender. "I need to know you're safe. That may mean taking you back with me, but I won't force you."

Elizabeth
stood in silence for a good minute, her face contorting under the strain of so many feelings. Isaac registered each as it passed over her features: fear, mistrust, confusion. He hoped that he was getting through to her, making her understand he only wanted to protect her.

"Your voice...in a way it seems familiar to me." She closed her eyes, apparently revisiting some memory. "When I was a child I would hear singing. I would hear these beautiful songs sometimes that no one else could hear. I told my mother and she said it was my very own guardian angel. I was a silly child but..."

She opened her eyes again and looked at him, studying him as she might an interesting painting. Her lips were slightly parted, as if her thoughts were on the verge of being spoken, but couldn't break free from her wonder.
Obediah's
voice from the hallway broke the silence.

"Have you finished your studies,
Lizzy
?"

Elizabeth
jumped in surprise and she looked between her door and Isaac several times before trying to speak. Her voice squeaked and she had to clear her throat before answering her father.

"Almost, father."

There was an uncomfortable pause and Isaac waited, his muscles beginning to tense. He held his breath and listened for the slightest rattle of the doorknob.

"Are you not feeling well?"
Obediah
asked.

Elizabeth
looked back at Isaac, a question in her eyes that he answered with a tiny nod of his head.

"No, father. Just a little tired."

Another pause that Isaac felt was much longer than it should have been.

"Very well. Finish up quickly and get some rest. We'll be rising early tomorrow to have service in the meadow. God has promised good weather for us."

"Yes, sir."

Isaac listened as the sound of heavy shoes faded down the stairs. He let himself begin breathing again.
Elizabeth
rushed over to the door and quietly turned the key, locking it. When she turned back toward him, she was blushing and couldn't seem to look him in the eye. Rather than push his luck, he stayed where he stood and continued with his plea.

"I know it's hard to accept, but you have to trust me. It's not safe for you here. You saw as much with your own eyes, written in your own mother's handwriting. That should at least prove to you that I'm not making any of this up."

The young woman blinked, leaving her eyes narrowed. She seemed about to speak when the doorknob rattled behind her. The loud pounding against the door startled her so badly that she let out a small scream and stumbled toward the bed.

"Who's in there with you? Open this door now!"

Isaac felt the blood rush from his face and limbs. His fear must have been quite apparent; when
Elizabeth
looked at him, her own face went pale. His first instinct was to head for the window as she had done earlier, but he knew that would mean running away from his only reliable escape.

"I said open this door, you little Jezebel! Who's in there with you?"

Obediah
continued pounding from the other side of the door.
Elizabeth
appeared as if she were about to faint, so Isaac reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling her close. He looked at her, that surge of feeling rising up even as he feared for their safety. When he pulled her closer and kissed her, she surrendered to him briefly before pushing him away and looking back toward the door.

"I will break this door down if I have to!"
Obediah
yelled before slamming both fists against the thick wood. Isaac thought he heard the faint sound of wood splintering.

With one final glance at
Elizabeth
, he closed the distance between himself and the door. He gripped the knob in one hand, the key in the other. When he suspected
Obediah
was between rounds of pounding, he swiftly turned the key and opened the door.

Isaac stood in front of
Obediah
. The man's face was twisted with rage, his hands held in the air as he readied himself for another assault against the wood. Their eyes met, locked in a moment that surprised both men, neither expecting to meet in this way. Suddenly it seemed it was
Obediah's
turn to go pale, his face quivering as all color left it. The man took two steps backward before tripping over his feet and falling against the opposite hallway wall.

You see a ghost or something?
Isaac thought, though the humor was lost in the moment.

"Sweet Jesus,"
Obediah
stammered, staring up at him. "Protect me from this evil."

For that brief moment, Isaac considered making the most of the situation. The man was obviously scared to death of him (
Why is that?
), so maybe he could work that to his advantage. He would need to do
something
to ensure
Elizabeth
's safety. Perhaps he could warn the man against harming her. Maybe he could even just step forward and give him a swift kick to the head.

But the moment was fleeting, and he watched as the man sitting before him in total fear suddenly seemed to puff up with courage. He was muttering something, some kind of prayer. The terror in his eyes was pushed out of the way by the more familiar rage. Isaac had lost his chance.

As if the forces behind the madness sensed the change, he watched
Elizabeth
's father rise to his feet, the air around them growing darker, blurry. That now familiar void swam up in his vision to welcome him back home. He stepped through and disappeared right in front of the bewildered
Obediah
Willoughby.

§

Isaac stood there, half expecting the impact of a fist against his face. Even before he opened his eyes again, he could sense that he was alone. It was far too quiet for him not to be. This was the first time he'd noticed the difference in smell, as well. When he'd been in the presence of
Elizabeth
there had been the warm scent of simple living. Now his nostrils were accosted by a mixture of new paint, synthetic fibers, and abandonment. Though he was relieved to be out of harm's way, there was a peculiar depressing influence due to the change in atmosphere.

His fists were still clenched in anticipation of an attack from
Obediah
. He let them relax, his fingers tingling with the quickened flow of blood. He closed his eyes again and let his breathing slow as he considered how he'd once again left
Elizabeth
there with her father, right in the arms of danger. It was not an easy thing to accept, and the guilt was already boiling away in his stomach. He knew if he didn't maintain control, it would soon overflow up through his chest and spread throughout his body, turning him into a nervous, emotional mess.