The tree was scarred where the car hit, but below the scar were the names of her parents enclosed in a large heart.
Isabella Rose looked at her handy work through watery eyes. “Love you both,” she said, and kissed the heart.
Where to now, Isabella? Only God knew. That would please her mother.
5 – A prison vanishing
LUCAS FELL WAS IN PRISON. He was a changed man and freedom was not too far away if he kept his behaviour in tune. Something worried him. The Professor was on his mind and he hadn’t thought of him in a long time. He pushed the thought away.
Lucas didn’t knowingly kill anybody. His problem was he didn’t think about what he was into, or the consequences. It was the drugs—they clouded the thinking and handed power over to pesky things he preferred not to think or talk about. But the pesky things were persistent and were chatterers.
It was early morning and Lucas was in his cell. He spent twelve hours a day in a small three by four metre room. Lucas sat on his bed, waiting for the first muster of the day, staring at the thick blue door—freedom was outside that door. Not right outside, but in that direction.
He thought of the invisible realm used by the invisible things of the world. He thought of the technology that shunted people along that realm. He thought of the purpose of the realm—the transporting of the dead. Lucas was being punished for his involvement with the technology—for the people it killed and the havoc it caused. The victims fell from the sky, from the invisible realm, the fall a fault in the technology. One was impaled on a tree, and the other died from a massive head injury. Lucas was full of shame and remorse.
He turned his attention to a poster on his cell’s noticeboard, a dark gloomy poster advertising a violent war game. Lucas got off the bed, walked over to the poster, ripped it down. It reminded him too much of his own brief visit into a dark gloomy place. He saw evil things in that place and those memories still sent shivers through him. Why had he taken so long to get rid of that poster? In fact, why had he even put it up? Did those pesky things still have some kind of hold on him? Maybe they did, but they were gone now. He looked around the room—unseen things. He stood up and started swinging his right arm.
“Swoosh, whoosh. Gone you are.” He placed his imaginary sword back in its scabbard.
The prison people assessed Lucas when he first arrived and put him on a substance abuse program. Ripping down the poster was a good sign. Maybe things were clearing up in his head. But then swishing a sword around . . . Lucas smiled.
The poster had fallen to the floor. A symbol on the poster caught his attention, one he’d often wondered about. He thought it was the nuclear symbol, but apparently it was the atomic whirl—three electronic orbits crisscrossing, with one of the orbits missing its bottom, which supposedly represented atheism.
Lucas had decided he would explore the subject some more with the Governor, Grant Windsor, an ex-government minister in the same prison as Lucas, and Lucas’s old boss. He was a bit of a religious freak, but they got on okay. The man acted more like a church minister now—he said prison had helped clarify his faith. The Governor ran Bible classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays for other prisoners and Lucas would join in every now and then. Lucas skirted around religious things but he believed in the supernatural because of what he had experienced.
Lucas had chatted with the Governor about atheism a few times. And secularism. The Governor said atheism was a lack of belief in gods and supernatural things, while secularism was the separation of state from religious things—trying to keep God out of things. The Governor also spoke about agnostics, saying atheism is about belief whereas agnosticism is about knowledge, about what you don't know. An atheist doesn't believe in any gods. An agnostic doesn't know if any gods exist or not.
Lucas wasn’t sure what category he was in—he definitely believed in the supernatural. He was told that made him a theist, someone who believes that there is a lot more to this world than we can see.
Lucas stood up and walked over to the door and looked out the small window. A man stood outside Lucas’s door. He heard some beeps from the man’s phone, and then his footsteps echoed on the caged walkway as he strolled away.
Now the walls seemed to be changing shape, reaching out to him, drawing him. The poster fluttered and became still. Then silence.
The cell was empty.
<°)))><
He was wobbly on his feet. While regaining his balance he heard a bang.
A gun? Warmth came upon him. He turned to see the source—an open fireplace, glowing and radiant, with flames dancing over timber logs. It was crackling wood he’d heard, not gunshots. No one was shooting at him.
“Hello, Lucas.”
Lucas jumped when he heard the voice. Where was he? What had happened? He turned towards the voice, half-expecting to see someone old sitting in a rocking chair and reading. He was half right—the voice belonged to an oldish man with a beard, a long grey-streaked beard. He was leaning forward in an oversized couch chair looking at Lucas. There was something familiar about him. He was brushing his fingers through his beard.
“It’s me, Lucas. The Professor. Or did you call me Starkey? I can’t remember. Do you like the beard? It’s made me wiser. They say the bigger the beard, the wiser the man.”
Lucas shook his head and then nodded. The memories came back.
“Hello, Starkey.” Lucas looked down at his feet and moved his toes, and then started checking the rest of his body. He had no response for the wise man comment, as he was more concerned about his own body. It all looked connected. “Still got the technology, hey?”
“Yep, but much more reliable now.”
More crackles, the sounds more soothing this time.
“Good, because I really don’t like where this technology takes you and I’m glad I didn’t end up there.” Lucas looked around the room. “This is a bigger room than from where I came from . . . and you better get me back there quick smart, or else I could be in trouble.”
“Do you really want to go back there, Lucas?”
Lucas ran his hands down his face and then shook his head. He picked up a scent in the air. Dope? The grassy smell was familiar.
“No, but yes.”
“That’s a strange response, Lucas.”
Lucas took a deep breath. The smell came again. He was sure it was dope. There was no way the professor would take that stuff.
“I’m a new man, Starkey. I really don’t want to get into trouble. I’m biding my time and looking forward to a new life. This could cause problems and will extend my stay in prison. They’ll come looking for me.” Lucas walked over to a window and looked outside. He turned towards Starkey. “Where am I anyway? Am I in the hinterland?”
“No. You’re in Healesville.”
Lucas spread out and opened his hands. “Where in the world is Healesville?”
“Victoria.”
“What! You jumped me from Queensland to Victoria? That must be thousands of kilometres.” Lucas’s chest tightened. “This is not good . . . you better get me back there, and quickly.”
“It’s just over 1600 kilometres, Lucas. Settle down. Taste the freedom. You know you don’t want to go back—besides, I have something I want you to do.”
