Ascension Discovery Page 5

  Elder Debbon was so disgusted with the multiple violations he had just witnessed he almost struck Petre dead right where he sat. Instead, he pulled his hands away from Petre’s temples and swiftly left the room. Another minute spent with Petre, and he would do something he would regret.

  He walked up and down the hall several times to cool his thoughts before he went back to the room where Amanda was resting. Because he had seen what had been done to her, he wanted to see how she had managed to get herself away from Petre. He sat in the chair at the head of the bed and rested his fingers on her temples and picked up her story where he had left off before…

  The next morning when she groggily woke up she was still disoriented and frightened. The dream felt so real and vague impressions lingered of her friend Sherry. She was wide awake now and ravenously hungry. She groped with the pillows and covers to try and sit up. Her head was killing her. She reached up and tentatively touched the tips of her fingers to the messy bandage at the back of her skull, immediately muffling a cry of pain. The material was stiff with dried blood, and her hair was matted and crusty. She winced at the thought of the pain it would cause to remove it later. Her hand dropped to her lap, suddenly heavy with the weight of her situation. Looking around the room for the first time with almost clear vision, she realized nothing looked familiar. She covered her eyes with her hands, holding back a sob.

  She heard someone outside the door and, not for the first time, she felt a quick stab of fear. Who is on the boat with me? Will I ever remember? She sniffed loudly and wiped her nose hastily with the back of her hand. She set her mind to facing this new challenge head on. The door flew back, and a medium sized man stood framed in the opening. She could not see any of his face because the light was behind him, casting him in shadow.

  The man stepped forward and Jesisca vaguely recognized his face. Relief spread through her. She released the air she was holding and inhaled a deep, steadying breath through her nostrils. The man rushed to the side of the sleeping platform and sat down. He took her limp fingers between his clammy hands and asked, “How are you feeling today? Any better? Do you remember your name yet?” He looked both troubled and eager when he asked her about her name.

  She opened her mouth to reply and managed to croak out, “No.”

  “It’s okay, Jesisca, I’ll take care of you. I always have,” he reassured her softly as he reached for a cup.

  Her confused mind latched onto the word Jesisca and knew it sounded familiar. Keenly she asked, “Jesisca? Is that my name?”

  He turned back to her nodding, “Yes, honey, doesn’t it sound familiar?”

  She thought about it for a moment and had a brief flash of memory around the name. She nodded slowly and sighed with relief. “Tell me everything, please. I’m going crazy with not knowing.” But even as she asked, the room started spinning with black dots, and she felt hot and cold at the same time. She could not concentrate on what he said as she felt on the verge of blacking out as her head throbbed even more the longer she sat upright. She could see his lips moving, but nothing made sense.

  “Okay, let’s start with the date. Today is Elul 22, 3442. It’s the sixth day of the week, and we’re heading home to Cresdon. You and I were married on Heshvan 28, 3440. Any of this sounding familiar yet?” he questioned.

  She tried to shake her head to clear her thoughts, but the pain intensified and caused black splotches to obscure her vision. “No,” she said and started taking deep breaths to keep from passing out. “Keep going,” she prompted and hoped something he said would trigger a memory.

  “You and I got married just before the terrible storm hit Reesun which killed all of your family.”

  She heard him say something about her family being killed, and she gasped; tears of despair and anguish sprang to her eyes, even though she could not remember who they were. She suddenly felt even more alone thinking she did not have any family to turn to for help.

  Petre held her limp hand as though to comfort her as he continued, “We had a nice memorial service for them and we’ve been working together really hard to try and forget about the loss. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but I figured that part of our history would trigger a deeper memory. I guess it didn’t work, huh?”

  Confused, she closed her eyes and tried to focus her mind on the things she could piece together. The next thing she knew, he offered her another cup of liquid. She carefully reached for the cup with both hands and peered into it. She desperately wanted water, not this warm, brown liquid.

  Jesisca did not want to drink it, knowing instinctively it would make her fall back to sleep. Jesisca still needed to find out where she was. She looked up at the man- her husband- and mouthed the word water to him. A small crease which may have been a controlled frown crossed his face. He sat down on the edge of the sleeping platform again.

  “You look beat. Why don’t you drink some more foxl broth to help you relax? You need to get your strength back, Jesisca,” he said in a quiet and petulant voice. Petre hoped she would drink it all down since he had laced it again with epeny, not quite as much this time, though. He hoped he could get the dose just right so she could participate when they had sex.

  Jesisca decided this sounded reasonable; she set her lips to the edge of the cup drank a small sip to ease her parched throat. She could just see out of the corner of her eye a fleeting expression of triumph on Petre’s face.

  “Now, Jesisca, you’ll have to do better if you ever expect to get your health back.” Petre nudged the cup again toward her lips. When she hesitated, he frowned and pushed more insistently on the cup.

  Jesisca did not have the strength to resist. She was determined to remember feeling uneasy about Petre’s expression. She raised the cup to her lips and drank all of the liquid. Immediately, she felt lighter, and the room spun faster than before. Unexpectedly, she felt a smile forming on her lips as she groggily looked up at him. Petre smiled back, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. Jesisca moaned softly and whispered, “Thank you, Petre.”

  Jesisca thought she saw Petre stand up and unbutton his shirt. She was sure there was a wicked and joyous gleam in his eyes as he looked at her intently. The last thing she remembered before she drifted into an uneasy nightmare was hearing Petre chuckle.

  She could feel herself falling...her hand reached out to grasp for help...she tried to grab the warm hand being offered to her. If she could hold the hand long enough, then she would be safe...the hand slipped away, and she opened her mouth to call for it to come back...her mouth was suddenly full...she choked...she started to struggle...her head was trapped...she tried to push her head back and moaned in torment...oh, the searing pain between her legs...something fell on her...she started to scream for help, but a warm, wet slug crawled into her open mouth...she struggled to get out from under the tree which had fallen on her, stabbing her so excruciatingly, every time she moved another part of her body felt burning agony, the bark on the tree tore at the tender flesh of her groin, then her chest...she could not breathe with the slug lodged in her mouth...she could not fight it anymore, her body went limp as she gave up and let the tree crush her...she heard horrible laughter coming from the victorious tree.

  Hours passed quietly since the nightmare ended; Jesisca drifted in and out of consciousness before finally moving into normal sleep. Her traumatized, limp body was tightly wrapped in a blanket, and she sighed as she started to enter a friendly, warm dream...

  She finished her Thursday dance team practice. As she showered and changed her clothes, she looked down on her figure and noticed how well her body had toned from all the dancing. Pleased, she grabbed her school bag out of the locker, unceremoniously slammed the locker shut, and twirled around on her toes all in one motion. She was anxious to see if the cute guy with the short-spiked, brown hair were sitting in The Commons again. Sherry had dared her to sit down next to him and find out his name, what he was working on, if he had a girlfriend, etcetera, all without telling him he
r name.

  Feeling up for the challenge, she raced up the stairs which led to The Commons. When she reached the top, she could see him sitting at the same table where he always sat, reading a school book. Jesisca stopped to really look at him and thought, his muscular body looks amazing in his polo shirt and tight jeans. She pulled her shoulders back before boldly walking across The Commons to his table. “Mind if I sit here?” she asked as she dropped her school bag next to the chair as she pulled it out. “You know, every morning I come up from dance team practice and see you sitting here all by yourself. Why is that?”

  “I work after school, so I don’t have time to do my homework at home,” he shrugged and leaned back to assess his new tablemate, “so I come in early to get it done. Any more questions?”

  “Just a couple,” she chuckled, liking him even better up close as she looked intently into his brown eyes, “What’s your name and what does your girlfriend think about you working every day?”

  “My name’s Nealand Taivas, but everyone calls me Neal, and I don’t have to worry about upsetting a girlfriend because I don’t have one. What’s your name?”

  Scooping her bag off the floor, she jumped to her feet. “Oh, sorry,” she exclaimed, “I forgot something back in the locker room. I gotta go!” She ran out of The Commons and down the stairs to the gymnasium. Mission accomplished.

  She woke up whispering the name Neal. The disappointment was thick and heavy around her, if she had stayed in the dream just a little longer, maybe she would have found out more about herself.

  Again, Petre held her feverish hand in his damp, clean hands. Her eyes were only partially open, but she could see him frowning deeply. Why is he frowning? she wondered; then realized she had spoken aloud the name of the guy from her dream.

  Again, Petre pressed a cup of broth into her weak hands. Jesisca refused to drink anything more until he answered some of her questions. She lowered the cup to her lap and tried to talk, dismayed when only a whispery squeak emerged. She cleared her throat and tried more successfully the second time and succeeded in saying, “Where am I?”

  Petre cocked his head and replied with, “Where do you think you are?”

  Irritated, Jesisca answered, “On a boat with you.” She could clearly hear the ocean lapping on the sides of the vessel as well as feel it rocking gently on the water. The knowledge did not give her any specifics, and she wanted answers.

  There’s the boat word again, Petre thought to himself. Could she be talking about my water craft? Petre then asked, “Do you remember your name, honey?”

  Panic rushed through her, what should she tell him? He had called her Jesisca, but it was not her name. It sounded familiar, but then she clearly recalled her friend--what was her name...oh yeah, Sherry, that’s right--Sherry had called her Amos. It seemed an odd nickname since her name was supposed to be Jesisca. She had to answer his question. “Jesisca,” she replied.

  “It’s a start,” said Petre as he raised her hands still holding the cup to her lips. He tipped it enough to force her to either drink or get drenched. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll take care of you like I always do. Don’t be afraid.”

  Jesisca looked directly into his eyes as she gulped. She desperately wanted to believe he was telling her the truth, but she had too many unanswered questions. She was almost convinced he would care for her until she saw the wicked gleam appear just as her eyes closed into another random dream.

  She was leaving dance practice when her teammate, Jenny, called out to her, “Hey, Amanda, wait for us! We want to talk with you about some formations to use at the homecoming halftime performance.” She plunked herself down on a bench and waited for her teammates to get changed.

  When they were ready, the girls left the locker room in a tight group. They were all talking at the same time because each one had a different idea of what they should do. Engrossed in conversation, she did not see Neal sitting at the table as she walked by.

  One of the other girls noticed Neal waving to her and started to tease her, “Oh, aren’t you cold, just walking by Neal when he’s obviously flirting with you.”

  Looking over her shoulder, she saw Neal sitting at the table, reading as usual. “Whatever!” she drawled back to her. But the seed had been planted, and she wondered if maybe he did try to talk to her and she had missed it.

  When she woke again, she felt more alert and aware than she had the other times. She had to remember the details of this last dream. The girl, Jenny, had called her Amanda. Sherry had called her Amos. Amanda, Amos, Amanda. Yes, that’s it, she thought, my name is definitely Amanda and Sherry had made up the ridiculous nickname of Amos for my first name. She kept her eyes closed and concentrated on keeping her breathing even until she could gather her thoughts. These dreams were not as random as they seemed, they were pieces of her past! If they’re true, she thought, then what’s Petre’s real story? She shifted on the bed and realized she felt sore all over. What happened to me? Her head still throbbed abominably, but it, too, felt as though it had improved.

  Before she realized her mistake, she tossed her arms in frustration. Petre’s attention immediately snapped to her. She looked into his blue eyes and saw pure lust looking down at her. He reached down and drew the covers she had thrown off back over her naked torso. Amanda blushed violently and pulled the covers tighter to her neck.

  “Feeling better, I see,” Petre commented as he looked at her flushed cheeks. “Pretty soon you’ll be back on your feet and helping me out around here.” He smiled what Amanda assumed was supposed to be a comforting smile. She would have believed him had she not remembered the conflicting emotions she had seen in his expression before.

  Amanda was putting together the pieces of her history...she hoped. She had already figured out what her name was. Petre was obviously trying to make her think otherwise. She would have to watch her step with him and not share what she had learned about herself before she figured out where she was and how she would locate other people. She thought Neal was probably a major part of her life. If she could just find him, she felt sure everything would be fine. A shiver of fear raced through her body. What if Neal were not around anymore? What if he were lost somewhere in her past? Curling onto her side, she brought her legs closer to her torso and tucked her hands between her thighs. Immediately she gasped in pain as her hands brushed over scrapes and bruises on her inner thighs. What is going on here? she thought to herself in a panic.

  Petre heard her gasp and promptly produced the dreaded cup of broth. “Drink,” he urged, “you’re not yet ready to be awake so long. You’ll feel better after your body heals, trust me.”

  Amanda almost snorted with disbelief when she heard him say ‘trust me.’ She wanted to go back to sleep and maybe remember more about herself from her dreams. At least while she was sleeping she was not afraid. She reached for the cup and drank, then closed her eyes so she would not have to see Petre. She only wanted to dream and escape somehow.

  Amanda was sitting on her parents’ front porch bored to tears when Neal drove a gorgeous red Ferrari into her driveway. She jumped up, squealed, and ran to him as his car rolled to a stop. “So this is why you’ve been working yourself ragged after school! Your job must have paid really well to get this!”

  Neal laughed out loud and replied, “I don’t think so. This was my graduation present from my parents. What do you think? You like it?”

  “This is totally awesome. Red really suits you. Do I get to take a ride, or is it reserved for someone else?”

  “Hop in! I’ll take you out to dinner.”

  Amanda nodded excitedly and said, “Just a sec, let me get my coat.” She ran back into her house. She found her mom in the kitchen and hurriedly blurted, “Neal’s here and he just got a new car and wants to take me out to dinner. May I go? Please? Please? Please?”

  “Fine,” her mom replied, “but just remember it’s Friday and you need to get home before sundown, okay?”

  Amanda immediately nodded and
kissed her mom on the cheek. She grabbed her coat off the back of the dining room chair and raced out the front door.

  Neal opened the passenger door for her and she dropped into the seat of the Ferrari feeling like a princess. She could not stop smiling for the whole drive.

  The scene shifted. Amanda could see she was older, maybe sixteen or so. When Neal picked Amanda up for the dance, he was completely taken with her beauty. He said, “Amanda, you know I really respect you and care for you, right?”

  Amanda nodded so Neal continued, “I would really love it if you would agree to be my girlfriend and date me exclusively.”

  All Amanda could do was throw her arms up around his neck and reply with, “It’s about time you noticed I was a woman and not just your best friend.”

  Again, the scene shifted. Amanda was now eighteen and at Neal’s college graduation party at his parents’ house. The party was full of excitement for the guests as well as for Neal. The guests all knew the yellow and white yacht which Neal had admired was really his graduation gift, but they all played along as if they knew nothing. As the evening was winding down, the guests walked to the pier as if to go home. Neal, walking hand in hand with Amanda on the pier, finally got the chance to ask his parents, “Which one of your friends owns the wonderful yacht?”

  Nealand, Sr. and Jessica, Neal’s parents, looked at each other and smiled. Jessica gestured to the yacht which Neal had indicated and spoke to her husband, “That one? It’s lovely, isn’t it, honey? I think anyone who owned it would be the envy of all our friends.”

  “Well, whose is it then?” Neal inquired. Amanda had to turn her face away to keep Neal from seeing the grin she could not contain.

  His mom gently clasped her son’s arm and exclaimed, “It’s yours, Neal! You’ve made us so proud over all these years; you deserve the best which life has to offer. Happy graduation!”

  The guests cheered and came over to congratulate Neal on his new beauty and to wish him happy sailing. Some people asked him to give them a tour of his yacht. Neal enthusiastically boarded the yacht and gallantly helped Amanda aboard. Together they looked over every detail, all the while Neal repeatedly commented that nothing was less than perfect.