From Night On: Pathways

Chapters 11-12

Chapter 11:

Disease

(Hessa)

March 9th Continued

Nathaniel scrolled along in the document to show me that there was nothing more, except our conversation. "I'm sorry," he typed, "but I haven't been able to focus as strongly as I use to. There would be more, but there has been a lot happening that has made it difficult to concentrate."

My immediate disappointment that there wasn't more was instantly replaced with empathy for this man. I placed my hand on his shoulder, "It's okay. Thank you for sharing what you have." I felt better knowing that Les was fighting on and getting stronger. I was happy that he found his guardians and was relieved that he had some support. What I learned, though, filled me with conflicting notions. I learned that I was heading in the right direction in seeking The Dalai Lama, but Les was traveling in the opposite direction to Australia. Actually, during the time he spent at his spring, he was on a plain almost completely separate from this one. From there, he was so close that, if he had the knowledge, he could possibly successfully pass back over to the life of Nathaniel. That's my theory. The guardians were from that dimension and were meeting with Les from this dimension, proving that there was a "bridge" of sorts.

"How are things with you, Nathaniel?" I asked, worried about how he was handling a life he wasn't meant for. He sighed and put his foot up on a chair. A chair that just seemed to appear. "What just happened?" I asked. I looked around to find that we were at another coffee shop inside a supermarket. "Where are we?"

Not answering immediately, he stalled to retie his shoelace and then stared morosely at the laptop screen, searching for what to say. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "It's been over two years," he typed, "since you started reading that last passage from Les." He fidgeted in his seat, anxiety and depression secreted from him like an ill sweat. "I got married," he said.

"That's fantastic!" I said, but then realized that there was something wrong.

"It was," he wrote, "but she's thinking about leaving me."

"Why?!?" I was immediately heart broken for him. I stepped back and covered my chest as if I was hit by an icy shard.

"It's been hard," he wrote. "She has a son from a previous marriage. He and I don't get along very well and I know that I haven't been the best at trying to bridge that gap. She's also an alcoholic and hasn't done anything to get help." He was angry with himself. "I've said some unkind things."

"To him?" I asked.

"No," he answered in shock at the idea of being mean to a child, "to his mother. I've been frustrated about the situation. That frustration has been added to by other stressors and I haven't been strong enough to handle them all appropriately. I've been short with him and her and not exactly the most fun person to be around."

"Wha tother stressors are affecting you?" I asked.

He laughed softly at the question. "There's a lot, but one of the hardest for me is that she is an alcoholic," he answered.

"Does she know about how this is effecting you," I asked. "Have you talked to her about it?"

"Yes," he answered.

"While they were happening," I delved deeper, "or did you just bring them up recently?"

"I've been open this entire time," he answered. "I've been supporting both of them for over a year while working forty-eight hours a week and commuting ten hours a week. I work for shit pay at a job I hate."