Read Waiting for Autumn Online

Authors: Scott Blum

Waiting for Autumn (7 page)

BOOK: Waiting for Autumn
3.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

In my boredom I approached them again and attempted to put them at ease. “Beautiful day,” I said to the father.

“Uh-huh.” His incredulity was intense.

“I’m waiting for my niece,” I said, hoping my white lie would help. “She loves that swing.”

“Oh, I see.” The man smiled, and I could tell that he was much more relaxed than he had been since I’d arrived. “We’re almost done. It’s the best swing in the park, so I can see why you’re waiting for it.”

“Yeah, it’s the only one she likes. She made me come down here and get dibs on it.” I laughed as my white lie became more intricate with every syllable.

“We should probably get going. Come on, girls, we really have to go now.” The three of them waved goodbye as they left the park and walked up Miner Street toward the houses in the hills.

As soon as the family left, I immediately went to the swing from my dream. It felt a lot like the first one—very short and squeaky, and not very satisfying for someone of my size. But more significant, there was definitely not a portal, and like the rest of Yreka, the park seemed completely devoid of any spiritual energy.

Confused and frustrated, I began to walk around the perimeter of the park to see if I could find the portal I had dreamed about. I kept retracing my steps, and I put the palms of my hands on every tree near the swing set to see if I could feel anything. There was a second swing set perpendicular to the one I’d seen in my dreams, and in my desperation, I went over to it and started swinging. These were “big person” swings with large rubber rectangles for seats and stainless-steel chains that were attached nearly twenty feet above the ground.

The bigger swings were much more suited to my size, and although I didn’t feel anything supernatural, I did enjoy swinging on them for a few minutes. I even considered being brave enough to jump off when the swing was at its highest point in order to see how far I could fly before hitting the ground, but I wisely decided to wait until it had settled before getting off.

Discouraged, I sat on the grass and stared at the swings, wondering if I had misinterpreted my dream. Perhaps my vision quest was already over and had simply been about coming to terms with my childhood. Or maybe it was supposed to be on a different day, and either I was too early or my opportunity had passed.

Just as I was about to give up, I noticed a swing that was wrapped around a post, tied up and out of commission. I carefully unwound it from the post, and it fell into place. As it settled, I was perplexed to notice that it didn’t seem to have a shadow. I looked at the other swings and
they
all did, but the one in front of me didn’t appear to. I knew that it was physically impossible for one swing not to cast a shadow, so I convinced myself that it was an optical illusion of some sort and tried my best to ignore it.

I cautiously lowered myself into the swing and pushed off with my legs. I almost immediately felt a sharp stabbing pain in my abdomen. I swung my legs back and forth, and with every swing, the pain in my stomach became more and more intense. I began to sweat profusely, and within seconds I shot out of the swing and hit the sand hard. The impact knocked the breath out of my lungs, and when I looked back toward the swing, I was shocked to see that it was already motionless, as if I’d never been on it.

Terrified, I stood up and tried to run to the opposite end of the park, but my legs wouldn’t move. The more I tried, the more my muscles froze, and I found myself falling backward in slow motion until the ground slapped my back with a force that ensured my breath wouldn’t soon return.

Staring up at the sky, I could see the clouds turning from an innocuous white to a menacing dark gray as they began to swirl above the park. The clouds circled slowly at first, then quickly picked up momentum until there was a visible funnel coming toward the park. I still couldn’t breathe or move my body, and my fear was replaced with genuine panic as the twister’s funnel descended. Within seconds the entire sky darkened, and I could feel the twister connect with my abdomen.

The pain was excruciating—it felt like the funnel was sucking my organs out of my body and flinging them into the sky above. I tried to scream with all of my might, but only silence came out of my mouth while I gasped for air with a violently painful dry heave. And at that very moment, the park filled with the most petrifying sound I’d ever heard. It was the noise of all the anger that fueled every roar that had ever existed, the sound of the fear that powered every scream since the beginning of time, and the wailing of every baby that had ever been born. The piercing sound was absolutely deafening, and as the light dimmed to near black, I felt as if I’d begun to float above the ground.

Through the darkness I could barely make out the grotesque mouths that were responsible for all the screams I was hearing. Their twisted faces swirled within the cyclone and began to impale me, one after another, plunging deep inside my abdomen. With every soul that entered me, the pain became more and more intolerable, until I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth as tightly as I could.

Within seconds the roar was replaced by the sound of a single screaming baby, and when I opened my eyes, I could see that I was floating facedown above a crib, and the baby was screaming at
me.
The veins in its temples were nearly popping out of its head, and I could tell that I was terrifying the infant with my very presence. To the right of the crib I saw a television set that was showing black-and-white static, and I immediately recognized that the child was me as an infant.

When I was just a few months old, my parents would leave the television on in my room, and the screen would turn to static after the stations went off the air. Once this happened, nearly every night a large dark figure would hover above my crib and gesture for me to join it. Instinctively I knew that whatever it was didn’t have the purest of intentions; and I would close my eyes and let out a long, silent scream until it left. I’d always wished that someone could hear my cries for help, but whenever the entity appeared, my vocal cords became paralyzed, and I would be forced to face it alone. In retrospect I’m convinced that it was coming for my young soul. I don’t know how I protected myself at such an early age, but thankfully it quit appearing by the time I could speak.

But now it was back, and it was once again coming for me, this time with much less restraint than it had before.

By then my abdomen was filled with literally hundreds of souls, all connecting me to the same dark entity I had feared as an infant, and they attached me strand by strand to a grotesquely writhing braided cord that disappeared far into the darkness.

I struggled to regain my strength, and when I had nearly resigned myself to defeat, a familiar scene revealed itself. I was once again back at Cheryl’s accident, but this time the drunk driver got out of the car and started to approach me, laughing. He continued his chilling cackle as he walked past Cheryl, past my mother, past the police officer, and headed directly toward me. In the hundreds of times I’d experienced the dream before, I had only been an observer. But this was no dream, and the drunk driver definitely saw me there. I had never seen his face before, but as he came closer, I recognized him—and my blood ran cold. I completely lost all consciousness when I saw his face.

It was
me.

I
didn’t remember driving back to Ashland, but I must have, because the next thing I recalled was waking up on the floor of my apartment. I was still fully clothed with my shoes on, and evidently I’d tried to make a bed on the living-room floor out of sofa cushions and blankets. I had no idea why I hadn’t made it to the bedroom, but I was probably in quite a state, since two of the lamps were knocked over and the coffee table was propped up against the wall on its side.

My abdomen was still in severe pain, and I felt completely drained and had a throbbing headache. I slowly began to remember what happened in Yreka, and when the terrifying memories returned, I knew that I needed some serious help. I considered going to the hospital, but I wasn’t sure how to explain to the doctors what had happened. In fact, I wasn’t sure how to explain to
myself
what had happened. I finally decided that Robert was my best bet, and I hoped I could find him at the Co-op, because I knew I didn’t have the energy to make it to his tipi.

As I staggered outside, I noticed Martika’s car parked at an angle on the sidewalk, with the backside jutting into the street. Underneath the bumper were two trash cans that had emptied their contents all over the sidewalk. I knew the car should be moved and the garbage picked up, but I barely had enough energy to walk. And with my head swimming like it was, I knew I wasn’t in any state to drive. So I stumbled down the hill to the Co-op, and as soon as I approached, Robert ran up to me.

“What happened to you?” he asked with genuine concern that I’d never heard from him before.

“The swing set . . .” I said in a shaky voice. “My stomach hurts.”

“I bet it hurts—you have a huge black cloud around your torso. We should go to your apartment now; you’re in need of some serious healing.”

He slung Puppy Don over his shoulder like a bag of rice and with his hand on the small of my back, guided me up the hill. As we neared my apartment, he saw Martika’s car parked on the sidewalk and shook his head compassionately.

“I should have given you some protection,” he said as I unlocked my door. “I didn’t think they would be after you so quickly.”


Who
is after me?”

“We’ll talk about that later. Why don’t you grab a pillow and some blankets and join me in the backyard. This will be much easier in nature.”

I found some extra bedding and met Robert outside. He had just finished moving the cedar picnic table under the large madrone tree.

“Lie down on the table, faceup, and close your eyes,” he said as he took the bedding and folded it to create a makeshift bed on top of the picnic table. “We need to get to work.”

Robert put one hand on my abdomen and the other on my forehead and began to breathe deeply. He moved his hands to different parts of my body and inhaled through his nose and exhaled loudly out of his mouth. Then he began mumbling in a barely discernible voice.

“Uh-huh. Yes, I know. Yes. Oh, I see. You’ll be okay. You can be open without being vulnerable. Uh-huh. Okay. There. I understand.”

He then put his thumb and forefinger on either side of my arm and firmly squeezed toward my hand while abruptly pulling on my fingers as if he was extracting tar out of each one.

I opened my eyes and saw seven dragonflies flying in triangles over my head. I could almost touch them with my nose as they appeared to canvass the space immediately above me. There was also a single bright blue dragonfly that was hovering about a foot above the triangle, apparently supervising the procession.

“Fairy spirits,” I said feebly.

“Yes, you’re lucky. They’re helping a lot today.”

As soon as Robert had finished with all ten fingers, he moved to my legs and did the same with my toes. As he did so, a warm sensation flowed through my limbs, and I could feel the color return to my face. Once he finished, the pain in my stomach began to throb with even more intensity.

“My stomach,” I said.

“Shhh . . . I know . . . I’m going to work on your stomach next.”

He slowly moved his hands up the sides of my torso and rested both of them on my lower abdomen. He started to breathe even more deeply than before. As he exhaled, he started coughing uncontrollably but kept his hands on me. After his third breathing and coughing fit, there was a huge rush of energy that filled my entire torso, starting with my abdomen and flooding into my heart and up my spine. I felt whole again, as if I’d just woken from the dead. I opened my eyes and could see Robert bent over with tears streaming down his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, making no effort to hide his tears.

“What happened?”

“You were bitten.”

“Bitten?” I was confused. “By what?”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard the question: “. . . and after you were bitten, they attached an energy cord to your abdomen. That’s why you were drained. They were literally sucking the energy right out of you.”

“Who did this to me?” I was starting to get angry. “And why would they do that?”

“Because you are getting too powerful.”

“Who did this to me?” I was getting very annoyed that he wouldn’t answer me. “Robert, tell me who did this to me!”

“There are two modes of thought about this type of thing. The most popular view is that
it
is never acknowledged under any circumstances, and most spiritual people will even go as far as denying
it
exists.”


What
exists? Robert, stop talking in circles and tell me what happened to me!”

“Evil,” he said as he looked to the ground. “Evil,” he repeated after a long pause. “Many healers believe that if you acknowledge evil, then you give it more power. But sometimes, not knowing it exists is more dangerous than ignoring it. It’s a dilemma I’ve faced for many years, and although many elders say to avoid giving it any power at all costs, in your case you need to know so you can protect yourself.”

My head was spinning, “What does evil have to do with
me?

“It wants to stop you, and unfortunately, I don’t think this will be the last time it will try.”

“Stop me from what?”

“From bringing more light into the world. You are destined to be a great healer, and you’ve attracted the attention of evil. Right now you don’t have all of your tools, so at this point in time you’re the most vulnerable. If it can stop you now, then you will never be a threat.”

“But why did it happen in Yreka? In the park?”

“Actually, Yreka contains
many
negative energy portals. It’s between Mount Ashland and Mount Shasta, which are two powerful positive energy vortexes. In fact, Shasta is one of the most powerful vortexes in all of North America.”

“But why would there be so much negative energy in between two positive places?”

“Because the dark follows the light. It’s like a moth to a flame: it can’t get too close or it will disappear, but it can’t keep itself from being attracted. All spiritual leaders have a constant struggle with negative forces, and when someone is transitioning to an enlightened soul, that’s when they are most vulnerable.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I didn’t think . . .” His words trailed off. “. . . Yes, I should have warned you, and I’m sorry.”

“But why did it happen? Why was it so important for me to go to Yreka?”

“You were drawn there because your soul is starting to communicate on multiple levels, and you are quickly opening up to other dimensions.”

“What does that mean?” I was more confused than ever.

“It means you are now opening up to the spirit world; and you can see, hear, and—in this case
—feel
energy on a soul level, in addition to your physical reality. Most people’s senses have been trained to focus on only what’s happening in the physical world, but you’re quickly overcoming those arbitrary limitations.”

“So does that mean I went to Yreka because I was finally able to hear the spirit world calling?”

“Yes, that’s part of it. But now you need to learn to protect yourself until you can discern light from dark energy.”

“And how do I do that?”

“You’ll need to find a teacher who can train you about these things, but in the meantime you should be careful, and be wary of being called to the spirit world while you’re still vulnerable.”

“Can’t
you
teach me?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I’m in the physical world for the time being. You need to find a teacher you can trust who’s already in the spirit world.”

“And how will I know who I can trust?”

“Listen to your heart—you will know. And if you’re not sure, then the answer is probably no. We can talk about this more later, but I’m going to the store to get some supplies to finish today’s healing—I’ll be right back.”

After he left, I went inside my apartment. I opened the refrigerator to pour myself a glass of water and found the car keys sitting inside on the butter tray. Shaking my head and letting out a long sigh, I decided to move the car to a more respectable parking place and return the garbage to the crushed bins.

While I was picking up the trash, I reflected on what Robert had said. I didn’t want to go back to Yreka, that was for sure. And I definitely didn’t want to risk finding myself in such a terrifying situation again. But on some level I felt that there was something in the spirit world that was part of my destiny. Although I knew I needed to recover from what had happened in Yreka, I felt that whatever it was had permanently changed me and there was no going back.

About twenty minutes later, Robert let himself inside my apartment carrying a small paper bag. “I’m going to make you a healing bath,” he said. I followed him as he went into my bathroom and turned on the tap. “I cut a rather large energy cord that was attached to you, and you now have a big hole in your abdomen where it was. This bath of sea salt and cider vinegar will help you heal.”

The entire apartment filled with the pungent smell of vinegar, and after a few minutes, he turned off the tap and gestured for me to get in the tub.

“I want you to soak for twenty minutes and then crawl in your bed and rest for the remainder of the day. I’ll stop by and check on you tomorrow, but I think you’re going to be okay.”

He let himself out of my apartment, and I submerged myself in the pungent bath. I soaked for his prescribed twenty minutes and began to feel much better. Worn-out but better. I was definitely upset with Robert for not warning me about what might be after me, but I also felt blessed that I had someone guiding me through these experiences.

I wasn’t sure what was in store for me, but I felt that I was on the edge of something very significant. It was as if my life was becoming bigger than myself, and I was about to bear responsibilities that were of great consequence. However, I was worried: if a simple swing set could do what it did to me, how would I have the strength to be of service to anyone else? I tried to garner the trust that the universe wasn’t going to give me anything I couldn’t handle, and resolved to stay as grounded as possible during what was turning out to be an unforgettable journey.

BOOK: Waiting for Autumn
3.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Kings of Many Castles by Brian Freemantle
The Detention Club by David Yoo
The Klone and I by Danielle Steel
Wet by Ruth Clampett
Dark Spell by Gill Arbuthnott
Wake The Stone Man by Carol McDougall