The Focus Effect

Thirty-seven

Here in this place, in the darkness, I have no golden threads. Only the pale white light of my halo can exist here. My parents step from the shadow world and into my light, revealing their faces. They are holding hands and smiling.

"Am I dead?" I throw myself into their embrace.

My dad laughs. "Far from it, sweetheart. You're just getting started."

"I don't understand."

"You will," my mom smiles. She has something brilliant in her hands. She holds it out towards me and nods for me to take it. I reach out and she places a shining sun in my hands, warm and mysterious.

"What is it?" I ask in amazement.

"It's yours," my dad says.

"My memories?" I whisper. "You've had them?"

My mom smiles and shakes her head. "They've always been with you."

"They were hidden within your own fear and despair," my dad tells me. "The fear of making the wrong choice, the fear of failing, the fear...of remembering."

My mom reaches out and caresses my cheek with her hand. I lean into her touch. "You have been your own worst enemy," she says. Then she smiles sadly, tears glistening in her eyes. "Those who fear to fall will never dare to fly."

"My kindergartner teacher, Mrs. Walters, used to say that," I say to myself, realizing that the sun that was in my hands has disappeared. "Where'd it go?" I ask my mom.

She reaches out and lays her hand on my chest, covering my heart.

Riley is four years old. I'm with her. We're building sandcastles on the beach. She smiles at me. "You'll always be my big sister, right?" she asks. She takes my hand. The setting sun has painted the sky indescribable colors. We run through the sand, splashing through the water.

"Riley," I whisper, looking into my dad's eyes. "Is she alive, daddy? Is it true?"

There's a worried look on my dad's face. He swallows and looks at my mom as if he isn't supposed to tell me, as if he has been forbidden by some cosmic law. Then I realize what it is. He can't tell me. Because this is a dream, and in dreams, people can only tell you things you already know.

My dad looks back at me and defiantly raises his chin. "She's alive."

My eyes open.