I heard the horrible thwonk as that same bowling ball slammed into a far less fortunate friend, filled with the horrifying knowledge that yet another brother had passed.
But still, I kept right on going, offering hope, love, and compassion—the three biggest, most powerful forces in the universe—and when I saw that moment of reprieve, when I saw that small gap of silence introduced, well, I encouraged them to seize it, focus on it, and grow it until it became big enough for them to climb into.
Big enough for them to fly away in.
And somewhere along the way, a funny thing happened.
With every soul we released, Rebecca’s world, her darkly glistening bubble of anger, grew a little bit smaller.
Though I couldn’t see her, I could tell by the way Buttercup stilled, lowered his head, and pulled in his tail, that Rebecca was somewhere among us. But for the time being anyway, she didn’t dare approach, and honestly, I felt so empowered by the work I was doing, I’m not sure I would’ve cared if she had.
Suddenly, I had something that was missing before: a strong belief in myself and the promise of a future I hadn’t dared to even think about.
Because if what Bodhi said was true, I just might get to experience my biggest dream yet: that of being thirteen.
But first, we had some serious business to attend to.
Each soul was different. No two were alike. Some were angry with themselves, some were angry with others, while some had lived lives so horrendous it was truly impossible to fathom.
Still, I wasn’t there to judge: I was merely there to provide some relief. So I continued to make my way through the ranks, thinning the crowd significantly, until I stopped to take a good look around and was amazed to find the world had been dwindled down to Bodhi, Buttercup, Prince Kanta, and me.
To say I was thrilled to see the prince again would be putting it mildly. Though I’d tried not to think too much about it, tried to stay focused on the soul at hand, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been pretty disturbed by his absence.
But when I tried to introduce him to Bodhi, I realized they’d run into each other just a little earlier, around the time the walls really started to close in and they’d bumped right into each other.
And though none of us actually said it, I knew we were all looking for Rebecca. Her world had shrunk to the point where there was only one place left to hide—in the big yellow house, a manifested replica of the one she grew up in.
I stared at the mansion, unsure if we should make the first move and go get her, or wait for her to come to her senses, acknowledge her defeat, and find her way outside to wave her white flag.
But when Bodhi mentioned tearing the house down in order to get to her, I had another idea.
I slipped right in front of them and made my way in, swiftly ascending the stairs with my friends right behind me, knowing exactly where I’d find her since I’d already lived the experience.
I went straight for the closet. And while I admit, for a split second I considered manifesting some kind of facade that looked just like her father, knowing that would certainly lure her right out, in the end, I decided against it. Partly because it just didn’t seem right—it seemed cruel and unkind—and partly because I really had no idea how to do that (though I made a mental note to ask later).
I paused before the door, glancing over my shoulder to see the prince and Bodhi nodding their encouragement, while Buttercup thumped his tail against the floor.
Then I grabbed hold of the knob and yanked the door open, my eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the dimness, spying nothing more than the tips of her shiny brown boots, the hem of her flouncy dress, and the stray paw of the dog she clutched to her chest, until I moved all the old hanging clothes aside and could gaze upon the rest of her.
Our eyes met. And for a moment, I was sure I couldn’t go through with it. But the thought was quickly overcome by something I can only describe as a thought wave—this big, wonderful swarm of love and support that came from my friends.
Strengthened by the way it swept right over me, pooled all around me, I looked at Rebecca and said, “It’s over. Everything’s over. You’re the only one left, and now it’s time to come out.”
But if I’d had any illusions it would be anywhere near that easy, well, I quickly got over them.
Rebecca wasn’t going anywhere. And somewhere in the midst of all her yelling and cursing and ranting and raving, she’d told me as much.
“He’s not coming,” I said, deflecting each verbal blow, letting it just whiz right past me. “Your father is gone. He moved on a long time ago. Which means there’s really no point in reliving all this.”
She scooched back even farther, clutched her dog tighter, and kicked at me with her boots. And when it was clear I wasn’t going anywhere, when it was clear that none of us were, she did the unthinkable.
She let go of her dog and sicced him on Buttercup.
I screamed.
I couldn’t help it.
The sight of that beast charging my dog caused me to lose all my focus.