Marla rolled onto her back and lay staring at the
ceiling. Her body was shaking, and she could not stop it. She could not
move. She could hardly breathe. Something was very wrong. She dared not
look down, knowing that she had hurt herself and that nothing would ever
make it better.
"This can't be happening."
The breathless whisper was her own.
"I can't die. How can I die?"
She tried to focus on the hovering faces of friends,
friends her heartlessness had driven from her. Mort had tears in his
eyes. "It's not your fault," she said, not certain if he could hear her.
She could not even be certain her lips were moving.
"It's the glass," she said.
She could feel it growing on her even now. It
encased her in ice, separating her forever from the world.
"I can't feel through it. I don't know how."
Rick dropped sobbing to his knees. Mort was trying
to stop the bleeding with his hands. She couldn't feel his touch, but she
could see the blood.
Poor Mort. He had never succeeded at anything in his
miserable life. He would not succeed at this now. "It's okay," she
whispered to him. "It doesn't matter anymore."
And then there were those strange eyes. Marla was
terrified of Becky Marple's eyes.
"I can fix it," Becky said. Maybe her eyes were
strange, but her voice was soft. "I can be your friend."
Marla considered the possibility. It was hard to
think clearly, hard to catch her breath now. "I don't know you," she
said. An offer of friendship between strangers? Strangers were the
adversary. Only a proven commodity could qualify for friendship.
Odd that Becky didn't share the sentiment. Her old
circle of friends had preyed on the gossip about Becky Marple like piranha
in a feeding frenzy. Becky had been terribly hurt by strangers.
"Why?" Marla whispered, desperate for an answer
before she died. It was a missing part of the puzzle of her life. "You
don't need me for anything, do you?"
Becky shook her head back and forth, flinging tears
in all directions. "No, I don't need you for anything. Do I have to?"
Marla looked up to Rick and Mort for an answer. Knowing they could not help, her anguish intensified a thousandfold. The
cold crystal spread across her face, blocking out the world.
Becky tore the plates of ice-like glass away. "This
is just a dream! You can do anything in a dream! This doesn't have to
happen!"
Becky looked to the two boys. "Help me!"
Rick grabbed Becky's wrist in a vice-like grip. He
stared at her intently.
"What?" She screamed at him.
Rick put her hand to his chest. "The only reality
worth changing is in here, not in your head."
Becky stared at him. "What?" she said in a softer
tone of voice.
"It's the only thing we've accomplished that has made
any difference. Not how we think. How we feel."
Becky stared into space, lost and confused. She
absently lifted Marla's head and shoulders into her lap.
Marla basked in the warmth exuded by her three
friends. The warmth intensified until something inside melted. And from
that point on, the warmth radiated from inside her as well, from the
inside out into the world.
Marla sighed very deeply, the empty spot inside her
filled and overflowing.
She reached out and took Becky's hand.
Novels by
William G. Tedford