I put my boots on and trudged through the new snow out to the barn to fax a 137 paged document to my mortgage company…. yet again.
As the cogs in the fax machine began to squeak I stood in Wade’s sacrificial office, which is the antithesis of mine, playing with the smoke that was emitting from my mouth and nose. For me he built a beautiful office, inside the house, with a huge window facing South and situated directly next to the kitchen so I can jut in and out preparing meals and writing all in the same breath.
His office, on the other hand, is located in our dark, unheated barn. Upon entering I averted my eyes from the meat hook that hung menacingly from the ceiling and obliterated thoughts of Wade’s sardonic threats to hang me there as a trophy if I continued to push his buttons.
As I swirled round and round in his office chair waiting for the fax to be completed, I suddenly felt the hair prickle up on my neck. I wasn’t alone. My adrenaline pumped through my body and my heart thumped so loud I thought it would abruptly stop.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “Hello”, I said.
I had communicated with him many times before, but had never actually felt his presence.
“I knew that you would show up sooner or later”.
I felt a slight warm breeze on my neck and my heart got ready to take flight out of my chest. He was directly behind me, enveloping my being with his presence. My impulse to run out of the barn into the blinding white snowstorm was hard to resist but I had been waiting for this moment for so long and I was melting in his presence, unable to resist him.
Closing my eyes again I waited for his words, which always resonated from deep within me.
“So, why aren’t you scared anymore?”he asked.
“I guess I have grown to trust you”, I responded.
“Why do you feel the need to beat me up when you are sending me a message”, I asked and closed my eyes for the response.
“Because you are stubborn and it is the only way I know to get my message across to you”.
“I am never certain that it really is you sending the message or just my conscience”, I told him.
“Precisely my point”.
“Can you tell me something?” “Can you tell me who you are and why you have chosen me to guide and protect?”
“You already know who I am”
“Yes, but do I really? I have so many questions to ask you but am afraid to hear the truth.”
“Jillian, you already know all the answers. You just have to believe in yourself and in me”.
“Can I see you at least?”
“We have been together many times before, in your dreams”.
“I love you, you know”, I said
“Yes, I know”, he replied.
“Jillian, there is something important that I have to tell you before I go.”
“Are you sure I’m ready for it?” “I mean, maybe I am not cut out for this and am better remaining innocent”
“Jillian, you are not like the rest.”
Just at that moment the door opened and Wade blew in from the cold outdoors. He glanced over at the fax machine and back to my face assuming my paleness was from our financial stress.
I told him that I was waiting for him to save me from myself as he always has done and always will do for me.
I came out of the barn needing to feel the ground beneath my feet. Slowly, slowly I walked back to the house.