the bedroom’s only illumination came from a lone nightlight near the bathroom. Tired, anxious, and not knowing what to expect, they continued to hold each other close until they both drifted off to sleep around midnight.
Chapter Twelve
David fell from a dizzying height, moving at incredible speed through an immense dark chasm. His descent slowed dramatically just before he reached the bottom, when a brilliant white light appeared below him. The light intensified until too painful to keep his eyes open, and he brought his arms up to shield his face. Then everything stopped and he drifted in darkness. Distant shouts from behind startled him, the echoes of his screams. As they steadily died, other sounds replaced them…birds and insects singing nearby.
He slowly opened his eyes. Everything blurred at first, when his vision cleared he found himself lying on his back, sheltered by an oak tree’s shade. Solid ground beneath him, cool blades of grass pressed against his skin through his pajamas. The sound of water trickling nearby drew his attention to a small stream coursing through rows of oaks, maples, and a horde of white pines.
An array of beautiful wild flowers in brilliant shades of yellow, blue, and orange amid tall grass covered both banks of the stream. Sitting up, he noticed a group of closely clumped oak tree saplings across the streambed.
“ My God!” he whispered.
The trees immediately familiar, though much younger than when he and Miriam had seen them just a few days earlier, without a doubt he was back in the secluded ‘Lover’s Lane’ of Cades Cove.
At first he believed it only a dream. When he crossed the ravine to get a closer look at the saplings, the stream’s cold water splashing up against his bare feet and ankles challenged that idea. The shock alone almost caused him to retreat, especially once the water level reached his knees. He persisted, scrambling up the opposite bank while shivering from the stream’s coldness. The sun’s warmth trickling in through gaps between the more mature trees gave rise to goose bumps on his exposed flesh.
This can’t be real... yet it sure as hell feels like it!
It had to be the same place. Even the rock ledge at the top of the ravine seemed the same. Across the stream, the oak he found himself lying under marked the identical spot he and Miriam ate lunch and later made love. Incredulous, he turned his attention back to the names, noticing the carvings seemed fresher. No dark and crusted signs of aging from his earlier visit. Walter Smith, Marylee Oliver, and the date of June 13, 1908 looked fairly new, with no sign of the later dated carving from the 1930s.
He ran his fingers across the carved letters, comparing the way they felt under his touch against the other time he did this. The carvings much fresher, they lacked the smoother, eroded feel of something old. A splinter pierced the skin of his index finger. David stepped back from the trees and gazed toward the deeper woods further downstream. Even the etched names on those trees seemed sparse compared to what he recalled from his earlier visit.
A pair of excited voices drew his attention back to the top of the ravine. He crouched down behind a thick maple and peered toward the ledge. The voices belonged to a couple of kids.
“ I win!” shouted the boy from atop the ledge.
“ Ya cheated, Zachariah!” accused the girl. “Ya started runnin’ first, but I almost caught yer sorry behind, anyways!”
“ Nah, you couldn’t catch me if ya’s ridin’ old man Olsen’s best horse!” retorted the boy.
David stood up, careful to remain out of sight. He could see each child clearly, as both faced each other on the rock ledge. Dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt and brown trousers rolled up at the bottom, the boy’s dark hair and features reminded him of Tyler, when he was a bit younger, maybe around the age of ten or eleven.
The pretty girl with him seemed about the same
Chapter Twelve
David fell from a dizzying height, moving at incredible speed through an immense dark chasm. His descent slowed dramatically just before he reached the bottom, when a brilliant white light appeared below him. The light intensified until too painful to keep his eyes open, and he brought his arms up to shield his face. Then everything stopped and he drifted in darkness. Distant shouts from behind startled him, the echoes of his screams. As they steadily died, other sounds replaced them…birds and insects singing nearby.
He slowly opened his eyes. Everything blurred at first, when his vision cleared he found himself lying on his back, sheltered by an oak tree’s shade. Solid ground beneath him, cool blades of grass pressed against his skin through his pajamas. The sound of water trickling nearby drew his attention to a small stream coursing through rows of oaks, maples, and a horde of white pines.
An array of beautiful wild flowers in brilliant shades of yellow, blue, and orange amid tall grass covered both banks of the stream. Sitting up, he noticed a group of closely clumped oak tree saplings across the streambed.
“ My God!” he whispered.
The trees immediately familiar, though much younger than when he and Miriam had seen them just a few days earlier, without a doubt he was back in the secluded ‘Lover’s Lane’ of Cades Cove.
At first he believed it only a dream. When he crossed the ravine to get a closer look at the saplings, the stream’s cold water splashing up against his bare feet and ankles challenged that idea. The shock alone almost caused him to retreat, especially once the water level reached his knees. He persisted, scrambling up the opposite bank while shivering from the stream’s coldness. The sun’s warmth trickling in through gaps between the more mature trees gave rise to goose bumps on his exposed flesh.
This can’t be real... yet it sure as hell feels like it!
It had to be the same place. Even the rock ledge at the top of the ravine seemed the same. Across the stream, the oak he found himself lying under marked the identical spot he and Miriam ate lunch and later made love. Incredulous, he turned his attention back to the names, noticing the carvings seemed fresher. No dark and crusted signs of aging from his earlier visit. Walter Smith, Marylee Oliver, and the date of June 13, 1908 looked fairly new, with no sign of the later dated carving from the 1930s.
He ran his fingers across the carved letters, comparing the way they felt under his touch against the other time he did this. The carvings much fresher, they lacked the smoother, eroded feel of something old. A splinter pierced the skin of his index finger. David stepped back from the trees and gazed toward the deeper woods further downstream. Even the etched names on those trees seemed sparse compared to what he recalled from his earlier visit.
A pair of excited voices drew his attention back to the top of the ravine. He crouched down behind a thick maple and peered toward the ledge. The voices belonged to a couple of kids.
“ I win!” shouted the boy from atop the ledge.
“ Ya cheated, Zachariah!” accused the girl. “Ya started runnin’ first, but I almost caught yer sorry behind, anyways!”
“ Nah, you couldn’t catch me if ya’s ridin’ old man Olsen’s best horse!” retorted the boy.
David stood up, careful to remain out of sight. He could see each child clearly, as both faced each other on the rock ledge. Dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt and brown trousers rolled up at the bottom, the boy’s dark hair and features reminded him of Tyler, when he was a bit younger, maybe around the age of ten or eleven.
The pretty girl with him seemed about the same
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