Across Time Part 14

"Perhaps. There certainly have been many start through who did not come back. And those who did, those who have tried sharing their experiences quite often ended up just as you said; in a rubber room counting tiles."

Jessie c.o.c.ked her head. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you mustn't share this with anyone. The Sacred Place is not a toy, it is not a tourist destination. It is an opening through which only the chosen may slip through and return safely. You must *

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believe me when I say tell no one. To do so would put the very people asking for help in danger."

Jessie shook her head. "Hey, not to worry. I am in no hurry to be thought of as a loon. I have a hard enough time shaking the stoner label." Picking her way carefully through the dark, Jessie held on tightly to Ceara's arm. "But, how do I live with it?"

"Don't just live with it. Celebrate it. My soul experiences have so enriched my life here. They're wonderful, really."

"And how many of those lives do you recall?"

"Five are very clear. Two are still somewhat fuzzy along the edges, and seventeen singular memories have come and gone leaving only the barest hint of residue." Ceara released Jessie's arm when they finally came to the sidewalk of Main Street. "Let me ask you this, Jessie: when you remembered Cate in the robe, where did you get the idea she was a Druid?"

"Well, you, I think. You told me some of the Druids' beliefs."

"Really. And you think that's what gave you the idea that she was a priestess?"

"Well, no-I-don't really know."

"Do you know where Druids are from?"

"Mostly England, I think."

"What did they wear?"

"White robes?" Jessie shook her head in frustration. "I don't know a d.a.m.n thing about them, Ceara. The truth is, I suck in school."

"Perhaps now is the time to unsuck yourself." Ceara waved to a car driving by. "Thank you for a most enjoyable visit."

"No, thank you. My parents were getting ready to string me up."

"They long to be able to trust you, Jessie. Whatever bond was broken is slow to mend, but they, too, are trying. Don't be so hard on them. Parenting is the most thankless job in the world."

As Ceara started up the plank, Jessie called out to her. "Are you a parent?"

Ceara stopped. Turned. Smiled softly. "A long, long time ago.

Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight, Ceara."

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As Jessie made her way back up Main Street, she stopped under the broken street lamp and stared up at the sky. Something about their conversation nagged at her.

"Sacred Place," Jessie murmured, looking over at the boat. As she started toward the inn, Jessie kept wondering the same thing: How had Ceara known that Cate called the seam the Sacred Place?

Jessie had never seen her parents quite so remorseful. Truth was, they were too hung up on being right to ever feel remotely apologetic or contrite. But there they were, sheepishly drinking their herb tea in what Reena had now dubbed The Parlor.

The transformation that had been slowly taking over her was complete now. She no longer felt like Jessie Ferguson, a teen adrift with no center, no balance and no direction. She carried herself slightly differently than she had a day ago, or even an hour ago. Her previous ultra-boring, entertain-me-now, drug-enhanced life was over, and the present had finally become an interesting place to be.

Walking across the parlor, Jessie sat on the antique yellow and gold settee facing them. As much as she had always wanted to hear them grovel, she was far more interested in examining the outcome of her journey in the privacy of her room.

Reena looked pained. "Jess, please do try to see things from our perspective."

Jessie chuffed a sound of utter disbelief. She could hardly believe it. They weren't going to apologize! They were going to sit here and rationalize their erroneous and judgmental behavior.

Reena said softly, "It's just that-well, your father called around about your friend Tanner, and, quite frankly, he just isn't the kind of kid we want you hanging out with."

Jessie shook her head. "Tanner's not the one you have to trust. I understand if trusting my judgment is a bit hard, but trusting him isn't even in the equation. Anyway, we've just met. I wouldn't even say we're friends, well, not yet, anyway. And as far as the villagers in this burg go, I could care less what they have to say about anything. They're wrong *

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about Ceara and they're probably wrong about Tanner as well."

Bounding up the stairs, Jessie did not hear any wails of protest.

Poking her head into Daniel's room, where he sat building a model of a 1957 Thunderbird, Jessie cleared her throat. "Hey."

"Hey." Daniel did not look up from his model.

"I'm really sorry about the folks."

Daniel shrugged. He did not look up. "How old were you when you first smoked dope?"

Jessie recoiled at how easily Daniel used drug jargon. Looking at him as if seeing him for the first time, Jessie wondered when he had grown up. "I was twelve. It was the sixth grade at a Christmas party."

Daniel still did not look at her, continuing to glue b.u.mper pieces together. "What made you try it?"

Jessie sat on the corner of his bed with mounting trepidation. She could barely remember. "Peer pressure. Boredom. Curiosity. All of the above, I guess."

"You tried other drugs, too?"

"Why?"

Daniel shrugged. "It must have really been bad for them to be worrying so much about you doing it again."

Jessie weighed her next words carefully as she watched him. "You know, Daniel, drugs aren't necessarily that bad. It's the people who do them who can be bad, and it's the consequences you suffer when you do stupid things under the influence. You remember my friend, Steve?"

Daniel grinned. "The varsity pitcher. He's cool."

"He used drugs."

The grin fell away and Daniel looked up for the first time. "No way."

Jessie nodded sadly. "He started spending more and more time getting high, and less and less practicing his killer curve ball, and before you knew it, the scholarships didn't materialize and he found himself sitting on the bench instead of being a starter. How cool is that?"

"How can you say drugs aren't bad then?"

"Because many cultures use drugs to get to a spiritual state of the *

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Otherworld, and that's when drugs are not bad, nor are the people who use them. But using drugs to escape life is not the right thing to do. My drug use wasn't the right thing to do."

"What were you escaping from?"

Jessie sighed. "Myself, I guess. I didn't like who I was."

"I always liked you."

Jessie mussed up his hair. "I know. And I've always liked you."

"Do they think Tanner uses drugs?"

"Yes."

Daniel blew on the cement glue of the b.u.mper. "Does he?"

"I don't know."

Daniel looked at her dubiously.

"Honestly, Daniel, I do not know. Would that matter?"

Daniel thought about it a moment. "Only if it makes you use drugs again."

"You know, I don't think anything could make me use drugs again.

I'm just now beginning to like who I am. I'm not going to screw that up with drugs. Why all these questions?"

Daniel turned from her and continued working on his model. "Just curious."

"Bull. Are those boys bugging you about drugs?"

Daniel shook his head.

"Daniel . . ."

"That kid, Chris." The words fairly flew out of Daniel's mouth. "He just thinks he's so cool bragging about drugs and all the cool people he knows who uses them."

"How old is he?"

"Twelve, I think."

"Where did he get it?"

"I didn't say he was using drugs, Jessie, I said . . ."

"Where did he get it?"

Daniel wouldn't look at her, so Jessie crouched down and made eye contact with him. "Daniel," she said softly, "Did he say he got it from Tanner?"

Daniel's eyes filled with tears. "He said if I looked, I could probably *

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find your stash in your room, and he'd give me five bucks if I skimmed some and gave it to him."

Jessie felt a tight band around her chest as she went from a crouch to one knee. Pure red anger flowed through her veins as she looked down at her little brother. A feeling she'd never experienced washed over her, and though she could not name it, she most certainly could feel it.

"What did you say to him?"

He tried to shrug nonchalantly, but Jessie knew better. "Daniel?"

He did not look up. "I told him you didn't do drugs anymore."

Jessie's eyes watered slightly. Even in the face of new friends, Daniel had been loyal to her. "He didn't believe you, did he?"

Daniel shook his head and wiped some glue off his thumb. "Chris said, once a druggie always a druggie, and you hooking up with Tanner was proof you still smoked dope."

Jessie didn't know what bothered her most; that this Chris was impugning her name, or that he had already managed to add so many drug-related words to Daniel's vocabulary. "Daniel, look at me."

Daniel hesitated, then complied.

"Daniel, your friend Chris is wrong. People change all the time.

I've changed a lot since I was busted. I've got my act together and I'm so over my stupid drug phase. All it did was mess up my life. If Tanner uses drugs, and I don't know that he does, but if he does, then he and I probably won't be able to be friends. But I don't judge people by town rumors and little boy gossip, and you shouldn't either."

Daniel nodded. "And besides, you promised."

Jessie nodded. Those promises meant the world to him. "Yes, I did, and I've never broken a promise to you, have I?"

Daniel shook his head, and Jessie could see the worry and fear slowly leave his eyes.

"And one more thing," Jessie said softly. "I'd stay away from this kid Chris, if I were you. He doesn't sound like a very nice boy if all he does is talk bad about other people."

"I will. He's not very fun, anyway. All he wants to talk about is girls.

Yuck."