Shallow Water Zone: Synchronicities of Sacred Souls Book Two: Shallow Water Zone Series, #2

By R. R. Bookman

Caitlyn and her Mother arrive in California to visit her sick grandmother.  There she encounters her cousin, Jaye, who promises to take her on a relaxing voyage of fun.  Instead, Caitlyn finds herself in problematic situations, and wild excursions including a meeting with a mystical stranger.  Will Caitlyn be able to resist his charming mystiqueness?  Or is it time to say goodbye to her marriage?

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. R. Bookman
• Release date: Sep 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215372739

Book preview

Shallow Water Zone

Synchronicities of Sacred Souls:  Book Two

R. R. Bookman

Copyright © 2021, R. R. Bookman

Cover Image by the Toni Frissell Collection.

All rights to the cover image design is reserved by the Library of Congress.

All rights reserved in all other media by the author.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. 

The moral right of R. R. Bookman as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, and Patents Act of 1988.

This book is a work of fiction.  All names, characters, locales, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events is entirely coincidental and fictionalized.

Legal Notice

This book is not intended to provide religious or spiritual advice. Any statement herein should not be construed as taking the place of your own ability to evaluate religious or spiritual claims on the basis of a rational evaluation of the evidence. The author of this book shall not be held liable or responsible for misunderstanding or misuse of any information contained in this text. Neither is the author responsible for any loss, damage, or injury caused, or alleged to be caused, directly or indirectly by any action or behavior precipitated by this publication.

Dedication

I dedicate this novel to my cousin, Stacy Lampkin, for encouraging me to be an avid reader and lover of poetry in my youth.  Your short stories will live forever in my heart.  Brandon O. Yarbrough, your continuous encouragement to get this novel finished was undying and very much appreciated.  I love you with all my heart.  You will forever be missed.  Finally, I would like to give special thanks to my family for their support and love, and to my son for always inspiring me.

Table Of Contents

Legal Notice

Dedication

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1 – A Trip Away

Chapter 2 - Recklessness

Chapter 3 – The Unexpected

Chapter 4 – The Signs

Chapter 5 – Divine Intervention

Chapter 6 - I Want You

Chapter 7– Until We Meet Again

About the Author

Chapter 1 – A Trip Away

I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you lies.

~Pietro Aretino~

Once we land in California, mother remains quiet.  We walk through the airport like a couple of strangers. 

You alright, Ma? 

I’m fine.  She says, shaking her head as if she can’t be bothered by someone as ignorant as me.

You’re still mad at me. Aren’t you?

Now, why would I be mad at you?  She asks, with a great indication of contempt in her voice.  She pulls her luggage from the carousel and walks away.

In the car, she plugs her ears with her iPod and ignores me the rest of the way.  I sigh as she stares out of the car window, bobbing her head to whatever is playing on her iPod.  I wonder what she might be listening to, but I’m too afraid to ask.  I’m sure that she’s still pissed at me, and her silence indicates just how serious it really is.  The last time she was this angry with me it lasted a week. 

I drive miles without her saying a single word to me.  The lack of communication between us makes the drive to Gran’s house a lot less interesting.  I try hard not to fall asleep under the wheel.  However, on the way there, I find myself slipping into mini states of unconsciousness. I have the worst headache ever, and my vision is a bit blurry.  I desperately need a valium, but I’m afraid it will knock me completely out.  Besides, there is nothing in the car to wash it down with.  I feel a bit of relief once we reach our destination. 

I pull into the driveway, and immediately spot Gran on the front porch sitting in her old white rocking chair.  Her long, gray hair swings back and forth as she rocks.  I play a song of greeting with the car’s horn, which is customary in the country for announcing your arrival.  As I do Gran rises from her seat with such excitement that her chair still rocks long after she has gotten up. 

It’s been a year and a half since our last visit, but mother smiles like a ransomed kid who has gone many years without seeing Gran.  It brings them both great joy to see each other again.  They hug for so long and so tight, until I’m convinced that they’ll never let each other go.  I stand behind mother waiting for my turn- waiting for that gentle, honest, most loving embrace that Gran is known for.

After they exchange a few words, Gran grabs a hold of one of my hands. I place my other hand atop hers, gazing deeply into her gray eyes in expectation of witnessing that connection we’ve always shared.  It’s strange this time though, the feeling that I get as I lock eyes with her.  Today, the connection is more powerful than ever.  Now I feel as if I’m looking into the very depths of her soul, and she into mine.

Well, you don’t look sick.  I say, rubbing her hand.  But God you’re freezing cold.

I’m taken aback by how time flies.  Gran is getting older, but she is still a fountain of positive energy, youth, and innocence.  Not one single wrinkle in her face, and her skin still has that milk chocolatey glow about it.  It is her hands that tell her age, they are very soft and wrinkly to touch.  She squeezes my hand firmly and holds me in her arms for what feels like an entire minute.  I’ve long remembered her hugs as a child.  The security of them sometimes lasted for days.  Every time we embrace it seems as if love just pours right out of her body and into mine.  After she lets go of me, my vision is clearer, and my headache is gone.

Aw now, don’t you go worrying bout me.  I’ll be fine.  Just a lil bug.  She says, dabbing her nose with a tissue.

I’m impressed by the amount of strength that she embodies in such a tiny frame.  She is one of those people who are always in good spirits- Always smiling, and finding something to laugh about, even at the worst of times.

When we walk into the house Aunt Carol is sitting at the kitchen table with her back to us.  She is a light skinned woman with brown shoulder length hair- Not as petite as her daughters, but just as beautiful.  She must’ve been listening for the screen door to slam shut behind us, because as soon as it does, she screams, leaps right out of her seat, and heads towards mother. 

The three of them circle up in the center of the path.  Although, I need to get to the bathroom and quick, I wait patiently for them to let me through.  It’s only after a couple of excuse me(s) and the slightest rearrangement of bodies that I spot the tiniest space between them and manage to squeeze through. 

Blenny!  Gran yells out to me as I’m washing up in the bathroom.

Yes?!  I yell back, but there is no reply. Unable to find a clean hand towel to dry my hands with, I hurry the process by using my jeans instead.

I’ve never known the reason why she called me that, but I do know that whenever she called me Caitlyn Lynn it meant that I was either in trouble, or that she disapproved of something I was doing.  So, in the moment I find a bit of relief in hearing the word Blenny.

When I come out of the bathroom, I’m surprised to see Jaye waiting for me in the kitchen.  Before I can even reach her, she yells my name, and runs straight towards me with a fried drumstick in her hand. 

Wsup trick?!  She says, wrapping her arms around me.

I cringe at her embrace, as I can only imagine a large grease stain in the shape of a half-eaten chicken leg on my white t-shirt.  Once she pulls back a few feet, I pull my shirt away from my body to see if I have any visible stains on it.  She backs up and takes one look at me. Then she rubs at my stomach.

Oh?  It’s like that, huh?  I ain’t gone dirty up your white tee Ms. High Sidity.  She says, revealing a row of perfectly straight teeth. Her eyes glow like large diamonds dipped in honey that blend ever so evenly with her skin tone, high cheek bones, and cleft chin.  I giggle half-heartedly.

And Wsup witchu?

I think I should be asking you that question.  She says, gawking at me while gnawing down on her chicken leg. Look at you.  Wearing white?  I remember a time you wouldn't be caught dead in that color.  Always said it made you look too fat.

And it still does.  I confess.

I watch as she pulls at the meat on the bone, chomping down on her chicken leg until her jaws are completely full.  Then she licks the grease off the edges of her fingertips. 

Must be good.  I say, despising the fact that she can eat whatever she wants with no regard for ever being overweight.

As the aroma of fried chicken fills the air, my stomach begins to growl, but I’m hopeful that no one hears it.  Gran is such a great cook until it is quite difficult to turn away from any of her food.  Even unknown people who pass the street of her house can tell exactly what is on the stove.  The smell of her fried chicken alone often beckons a slew of strangers from the neighborhood over for a plate.  However, being that she is sick today I’m almost certain that she has instructed Aunt Carol step by step on what to do. And as a result, I hope that this will allow me the will to decline.

Let’s go out on the front porch and talk.  Jaye says, leading the way.

Gran’s house is very small and old compared to most of the houses in the neighborhood.  It has only two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen which unfolds into the living area.  With there being so many of us inside, it can easily become stuffy and confining after a while.  On the way to the front porch Aunt Carol cuts me off, grabs me by the face, and presses her lips against my cheek.  Then she wraps an arm around me and squeezes tightly.  I feel as though I’m ten again. 

Missed you, baby.  She says.  Her voice, a mere whisper. 

I had forgotten just how rough love can be amongst country women.  After all that hugging and squeezing, I’m sure that I will need my inhaler by the day’s end.  But the love is so real until I’m compelled to soak it all up.

Phone, Blenny!  Gran yells out before I can even get to the front door.  She stands with her back to me, as she converses with mother and Aunt Carol.  Not even noticing that I’ve turned back, she holds the phone in one hand, and covers the receiver with the other. I tap her on the shoulder.  Then she gives me the phone, mumbles something, and then waves me away again.

She immediately returns to her conversation with Mother and Aunt Carol.  I tap her on the shoulder again, but she doesn’t react.  Aunt Carol is the one who directs her attention back to me.  When she does take notice of me again, she has a puzzled look on her face, as I point to the receiver. 

Who’s this? I whisper.

She studies my lips.  She’s distracted by what Mother and Aunt Carol are talking about, but I’m curious to know who is calling me on her phone rather than reaching me by cell.  It’s not unusual for old boyfriends to resurface the very minute that I touch California ground.  And Lord knows with Reyvon’s temper, I don’t need those kinds of problems.

Just anserit. Gran yells.  Been calling foya all monin.

Okay, I nod.

I make my way out to the front porch with the phone and take a seat in Gran’s chair as we talk.  Jaye stares at me until I’m done.  Then she beckons for me to follow her to the back of the house.  I sit the phone on the ledge of the porch and catch up to her. 

Who dat?

Rhonda.

My sista Rhonda?  She asks.  How does she even know you’re here?

She was in Houston recently and asked if I would keep her posted about my trip out here.  She wants to hang out with us later.

Correction.  She wanna hang out witchu later.

Small tree branches crunch beneath our feet. 

Oh, Lord.  What happened?

There is a small tree limb in the middle of the path, so Jaye kicks it out of the way for me.  She has such a tiny frame that on most occasions she’s often mistaken for a kid, and her style doesn’t really help much in that department.  She is always up on the latest fashion, but today she’s casual wearing a black t-shirt, and some cut off blue jean shorts with some biker tights underneath.

Jaye keeps silent and just shakes her head. 

We arrive at the back of Gran’s house where there is a very small one room cottage next to a big oak tree and some woods.  I laugh when I see it, because it brings back so many memories of us as kids.

Gran may have left the country, but the country never left her.  Did it?  I say to Jaye.

Check it out... My favorite hideaway.  She grins, pointing at the cottage.

I let out a sigh of laughter. 

You just hot and fass, and fass and hot.

"I’m not talking bout bringing no boys back here.  I would come back here for peace, just to clear