About THE CROSSING (with Episode 1)
“Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind, and makes it fearful. Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep.” - William Shakespeare
A 7,000-word novelette (expanded from the earlier short story version), which I’ll share in seven installments. You’ll find Episode 1 included below.
Lisa Jaeger sought the relief that a few steps would bring her. One. Two. And darkness forever.
But when she unexpectedly regained consciousness, the man who had saved her looked at her with bright blue eyes as if to show that everything would be okay.
But would it?
“If people were always kind and obedient to those who are cruel and unjust, the wicked people would have it all their own way: they will never be afraid, and so they would never alter but grow worse and worse. When we are struck without reason, we should strike back again very hard; I am sure we should. So hard as to teach the person who struck us never to do it again.”
--Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
ORIGIN
One of my social media connections, a reader who enjoys my writing, posted an interesting photo of a bridge from a vacation trip.
His friend, Debra, who also likes my writing, commented: “Dennis Lowery could probably write a story about it....”
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I’ve done that several times for people, taking a picture they sent me and then writing a story based on what I see. So, I had to rise to the challenge.
Dan’s photo became THE CROSSING.
‘FIRST LOOK’ READER COMMENTS
“Oh man! You really got me with this one. Could not stop reading and had no clue about the twists and turns of the story.” --Susan Lewis
“That’s good. But now I have to know about the white dress! I’m on the edge of my seat. Nice writing. Keep it up. I’m hooked” --Brenda Church
“I just finished reading it. Love the twist... hehe...in the story. You always have the best surprises!” --Debra Dayton
“Oh my goodness...! I felt the undercurrents but thought that she SPOILER REMOVED due to her circumstances. Really creepy! He got SPOILER REMOVED... so my feeling about SPOILER REMOVED. A SPOILER REMOVED mystery here. Great work.” --Margaret Burckard
“As I read, the story drew me in and the characters became real. Nice twist. Where does she go now...” --A.R.
“Delightfully unexpected! Delicious suspense in a short story that peeks beneath the surface and exposes the depths of revenge. I devoured it and read a second time in one sitting.” --Bobbie T.
“OOOHH HELL YEAH!!!! Loved it. Awesome!!! Exciting, with unexpected twists and turns. ---SPOILER PART OF COMMENT REMOVED --- Thanks for this very satisfying story, Dennis, I really enjoyed it!” --Nina Anthonijsz
“Nicely done! I really liked how ‘The Crossing’ turned out Dennis. That was good story. Glad you were able to make something out of just a photograph... a credit to your talent.” --Dan S.
EPISODE 1
Back Then…
Mama… mama, I cried and cried each time, in the mornings, after he had gone to work, and mama was still in bed. Sometimes dried blood from her mouth stuck the pillowcase to the side of her face. I’d shake her… crying mama, mama… as tears and snot dripped from my lip and down my chin.
Sometimes mama’d wake up… hurting… but tell me, “Get ready for school and I’ll make you breakfast.” But more and more, I’d make my own, and she would still be in bed when I left.
We moved a lot. That last time to where everyone smiled at each other with a nod as they got their mail or backed out of their driveways. Houses only 15 feet apart… but everyone in their own world. My stepdad liked that. Everybody around us was like head nod, okay… you’re normal. But not. Just smile and wave.
And no one knew the truth.
* * *
10 Years Later
Below the asphalt and concrete, the supports anchored to the land hugged the curve of the foothills. Their columns were hidden by the deepening shadows of a setting sun, now too low on the horizon to cast its fading light to reach them. The bridge arced then straightened as it spanned the darkness below. There was water there, and she recalled its embrace as she studied the length of iron and stone that disappeared into a fog-shrouded distance.
She looked at him, maybe he would understand. “I thought there could be love without hurt. A new beginning…. a rebirth for me.” She took his hand briefly, then let go to gently cup his chin in her hand. In his eyes shone all that had happened since he had pulled her from those cold, murky waters. “It wasn’t. But, no tears for me… none from me.” She shook her head. Time: present and past flowed around her as she reached to caress his smooth face. “Still…”
“To the ones that are waiting only for you. Come away little lass. Come away to the water. Away from the life that you always knew. We are calling to you. Come away little light. Come away to the darkness.”
--Glen Hansard
Back Then …
I cried at night when I heard the sounds through the wall of mama’s bedroom. They weren’t like those when I was 13 and used to stay at Kathy Merrick’s. Before things got really bad. My stepdad stopped the stay-overs then. I had bruises; you know. They, my friends and their parents, might see where my clothing hid them. But the few times before… sleeping over at Kathy’s, in the late night, I heard the muffled thumps and grunts and had asked her. She told me, rolling her eyes, “Every Friday night.” But Mr. and Mrs. Merrick looked happy the next morning at breakfast. My mom and stepdad never did. What he did to mama wasn’t sex. I didn’t know husbands could rape their wives, but that haunted, damaged look was always in mama’s eyes the next morning.
10 Years Later
The night bird's cry brought her back to the icy wind and the light rain, her mother said her grandma in Scotland called a ‘scotch mist.’ The black basalt blocks and concrete surrounding her became dank, brooding shadows. She blinked the past away, but one moment hung there, inescapable. The morning when she had begun to see her mama’s eyes in the mirror. That led to what happened… what had to happen. It had brought her to this bridge…
Two Days Before…
Lisa opened her eyes, expecting she would never again, and looked up at a stranger.
“I was worried you wouldn’t wake up!”
Her eyes had focused on his. They were the sapphire color of the sea as it dropped from shallows near shore into the depths where the sun couldn’t reach. She had never seen eyes so blue. The full lips beneath them curved into a grin, revealing white, even teeth as he smiled at her.
“Where am I?” She had realized she no longer wore the torn dress from the…. She sat up, clutched the blanket around her, and shook her head. “How long have I been here?”
“I found you this morning.” He rocked back on his heels. “On the riverbank. You were so cold, I brought you here.”
“Where’s here?” The window above her had clattered with a wind-cast icy rain. “And who are you?”
His startling cobalt eyes had shifted to glance at the rattling glass. He stood and went to the window, pulling back the curtains to peek out. “Storm’s picking up again.” He looked down at her on the low cot. “I’m Lucas, and this is my cabin.” He knelt again, bringing his eyes level with hers. “How did you end up in the river?”
“I’m Lisa.” She hadn’t met his stare. “I was running away, and I…” She stopped, afraid and not knowing what she should or shouldn’t tell him.
“You fell. Right?” With a slight hesitation, Lucas patted her hand and then pulled away. “At night, even without the wind and rain, it’s easy to slip and fall from the high banks.”
She nodded. Taking the wrong steps… or waiting too long to choose the right ones had both happened to her in the past.
“I’ll let you rest.” Lucas stood and pointed across the room. “There’s a bathroom and shower; When you’re ready. Careful though, the knobs stripped. There’s pliers to use to turn it. After you’re done…”
“I can feel the fire when it burns my skin, the rain when it caresses my face, and the breeze as it fingers my hair. I have all the senses other people do. I’m just empty inside.”
–J.D. Strobe, Caged in Darkness
Back Then
“I’ll fix it,” my stepdad always said. He scoffed at spending what little extra money he had on anything but his drinking. “Real men can fix shit themselves,” he’d claim. Mama would—until she couldn’t—look at him pulling his tools out, and one time said, “Maybe we should call a repairman, so it stays fixed.” Then he hit her. Next morning, I was on my own off to school, mama was still in bed when I got home that day.
It—everything—got worse. My stepdad would come home from the garage he worked at—a body shop that fixed cars in accidents—and I swear you could see the crazy come into his eyes. Standing there, thick, hairy forearms crossed over his belly, asking my mama, “Where’s my fucking supper?” Or if it was ready and he didn’t like it, “What’s this slop?” And mama and I knew it would be a bad night.
I think mama gave up. She had nothing left in her to fight back. Like a torn bag you didn’t notice had lost most of all it once held. And you realize too late, everything in it had leaked away. Mama was empty just when I needed her most. I was alone. But for him… when he came for me…
* * *
Continued in Episode 2