“Lulu explained to me that life was like a book, each page a different possibility, a different reality,” Mrs. Souder said. “One must only know how to turn the page, Lulu had told me . . . but there could be consequences.”
Mrs. Souder looked over at Michelle, tears brimming the bottom of the old woman’s eyes. She cleared her throat. “Lulu opened up a gateway to another reality, one where Pink had not killed Isabelle. Then Pink and I came through it. To here. To now . . .”
A vortex spun through Michelle. Questions overlapped questions, coming with such speed as to cancel each other out. She could not grasp one thought and hold it long enough to give it form.
Mrs. Souder stood and took her cup to the sink, while Michelle sat staring at the curious book in front of her, its pages scribbled with Latin, drawings, formulas, and permutations, symbols not only foreign but unearthly.
“The night Pink and I were to pass through, I asked Lulu if she was coming.” Mrs. Souder rinsed her cup in the sink. “I didn’t want to go without her. She told me not to worry, that she would be there when we arrived. I didn’t understand. She explained that reality is fluid, that the existence we believe is the one and only, is merely a single possibility, one choice in our life. She explained that she existed in every reality that I did, as long as we had met in that reality. She said that past and present were merely perceptions, they did not exist in the way we think of them. ‘But what about me?’ I had asked Lulu. ‘What about Pink? Will we run into ourselves in this new reality? Will there be two of each of us in Ardenwood?’ Lulu shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘By traversing the gateway, you are leaving this existence behind and entering a new one, a new choice, as if you had been there all along. Neither of you will remain behind in this reality. It will be as though you instantly vanished from the face of the earth.’ ”
Michelle recalled Sheriff Fisk saying how Mattie and Pink disappeared, never heard from again. Mrs. Souder came back to the table and sat, wiping her hands on the towel she’d brought with her.
“Lulu said there was one thing I had to understand though. She told me I would have to carry a talisman to take Pink through. No one could cross the gateway without it, unless they had a guide or helper.”
“But I did,” Michelle was quick to state. “I came through without a guide. So did Cliff.”
“I can’t speak for your husband,” Mrs. Souder said, “but you did have a charm. That pentagram in your pocket.”
Michelle reached into her jeans and brought it out again, remembering how it had been behind the toilet the night she’d gone to look for Cliff. “This?” she said to the old woman. “I found this in the cabin. No one gave it to me.”
“Someone did,” Mrs. Souder said. “Someone wanted you to have it.”
“Someone? I don’t . . .”
Mrs. Souder took the pendant from Michelle and held it in her palm. “This pentagram belonged to Isabelle years ago. She wanted to learn witchcraft, the way of Wicca, and I had given it to her. Unlike Pink, Isabelle was dedicated to the study, probably because her own mother was so opposed to it—Ida thought it was the work of the devil. Isabelle pursued anything, including Pink, that might upset Ida. Lulu and I worked with her. Isabelle read and listened and practiced the whole time she and Pink were falling in love. I should have done something much sooner, but by the time I allowed myself to accept what was happening, it was too late. Lulu had urged me to tell Pink the truth from the beginning, but I couldn’t. Pink would never have understood what Ida and I had done. Lulu said I should at least tell Isabelle, that even though Isabelle would be devastated, she would be strong enough to handle it, and end the affair with Pink. The day I finally told Isabelle, she ripped the pentagram from her neck and threw it in my face. She never spoke to me after that. From that day forth, Isabelle tried to take everything from me, punish Ida and me for what we’d done. I couldn’t blame her. Our deception was a travesty against nature, the very nature I live my life by.”
Under the avalanche of information, Michelle was barely able to sort through her own questions, working to clarify the ones most pressing in her mind. What did any of this have to do with her? Or Cliff? And how had Cliff passed through this “gateway” if it was impossible without some special charm? Had he found an amulet and absentmindedly shoved it in his pocket the way she had? And now what? Was there a way back? And where was “back,” and what would it be? Would Cassie be there? Alive?
Mrs. Souder picked up Isabelle’s pentagram. The old woman’s features were taut. “The thing I don’t understand is, why your husband was so different from the way you remembered him? And why he didn’t remember coming through the gateway.”
“Does Pink remember?” Michelle asked.
“Of course not,” she said. “Lulu gave him nothing to carry. She asked if I thought Pink could handle knowing. I knew he couldn’t—it would drive him insane remembering that he’d killed Isabelle then finding her alive. Besides, if he remembered, then it would defeat the purpose of going through to begin with. He would still hate me for my deception, he would still know what Ida and I had done.”
Mrs. Souder looked up at Michelle, sadness dulling her eyes. “It must be driving you insane as well,” she said to Michelle. “I’m truly sorry.”
“Then how did Pink come through? I don’t understand.”
Mrs. Souder reached across the table and took Michelle’s hands, explaining how she and Lulu had tricked Pink into going with her through the woods. They’d waited until Pink was drunk, which he was every night at the cabin, and Mattie begged him to help her find Scout, her golden retriever, that he’d run off and she was afraid he’d tangle with a wild boar and get killed. Pink had initially refused to go, but she knew how much he loved Scout. Eventually he put on his jacket, grabbed his bottle of Jack Daniels, and followed her out the door.
“It was terrible,” Mrs. Souder told Michelle. “Lulu tried to prepare me for what would happen to Pink when we journeyed through the opening between worlds, but nothing she said came close. Pink was just sick at first, vomiting. Then his legs went weak. He was barely able to walk.”
Michelle recalled how the chopper pilot had taken sick when he hovered above the dusk-to-dawn light, but Sheriff Fisk and his deputy had seemed fine. But they had never seen the light when they drove down the road.
“I could handle the illness, but it got so I felt like I was pulling Pink through a meat grinder. He was refusing to get up off the ground, screaming he couldn’t go on,” Mrs. Souder said. “I was sure I was killing him, and was ready to turn back, but I realized I had no idea where we were, couldn’t recognize anything. And that’s when they came.”
“They?” Michelle said.
Before Mrs. Souder could explain further, there was a noise from the front of the house. They both turned, the front door opening then slamming shut a moment later, followed by stomping, like someone trying to remove snow from their shoes.