With no warning, I snapped back to that window seat on the British Air flight. My head spun. My stomach did a loop in my belly. I slumped forward and moaned, banging my head against the seat back video monitor.
I had no idea a transition was coming. Usually there was a tingling aura that warned of its imminence. And there were usually visible signs. I think Bern would have mentioned something if he noticed any translucent spots on my skin. Had it happened more abruptly than usual or had we simply been too distracted to notice anything?
Ellen put her hand on my shoulder. “James? You okay?”
I could only grunt and mumble, finding it hard to shape words. I wasn’t ready to come back. Bern needed help. He might be under attack.
But at least he had Urszula with him. Both could escape on Seraf’s back, if need be.
“James? Did you hear me? You feeling alright?” She palmed my forehead to check if I had a fever.
Finally, my consciousness caught up with the rest of me. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. Just … disoriented. You know. From waking? I came out of a … a deep sleep.”
Her face was all business, rapt with concern and puzzlement as her eyes flitted back and forth assessing my condition.
“I saved you a meal,” she said, patting a foil-covered tray on her little fold-down table. “Pasta with pesto. It was either that or the chicken, but airline chicken is usually pretty awful.”
“Thanks … uh … good choice. But, uh … I’m not hungry right this moment. Maybe … in a minute.”
“I tried to nudge you when they came by with the cart, but you were really out of it.”
“Yeah. I’m a … a deep sleeper. I said. “How long was I out?”
“I don’t know, maybe an hour. More or less.”
My innards settled down, my organs no longer acting like a sack of drowning rats. But this sense of physical ease conflicted with a spiritual malaise. A deep melancholy sank into every corner of my being. I really didn’t want to be in this world any more. I didn’t belong. There was nothing left here for me.
That feeling, in turn, conjured a sense of something ripping loose, like a boat yanking free of its mooring. Part of me began to drift away, before snapping back like a broken elastic.
My soul’s presence here was unstable. These waves that came drifting past, unseen. I sensed they could float me right back to Bern if I could catch them just right and surf. That was quite a revelation for me. I had been aware of these waves before but had never sensed them quite so acutely. The discovery thrilled me, but I had to keep it stifled. I didn’t want to scare them away.
“Come on,” said Ellen. “You should try and eat something, before it gets cold. Believe me, you don’t want to eat it cold. You might feel better if you ate something.”
Too late. In that moment of inattention, a wave had latched on and seized me. Entangled in the fabric of Root, my souls was already on its way back.
***
I splashed down on my back in a puddle, staring up at a tufted sky that continued to shed a fine drizzle. Seraf’s segmented underbelly hovered overhead, her wing beats creating a wash and drone not unlike a small helicopter. My first though was that Urszula and Bern were leaving without me, but then there was Bern, leaning over me and reaching down a hand.
“That was quick,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you again for days.”
He hauled to my feet, and went back to working on his cabin. He had all four corner posts and three walls up and the frame of the roof was in place. He sat astride a bundle of thatch, cinching tight a loop of twine to pull it together.
