Perception: Path of Discovery Series - Book II

By C.G. Clark

No matter where we go, or what we do in this life, we take our perception of what is real and what is fantasy. For Rowen McCaster, the lines between these two concepts will blur, but it provides an opportunity for her to examine them more closely and ultimately decide for herself how they align with her faith. This decision will be the foundatio

• Language: English
• Publisher: CGClark
• Release date: Oct 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798988999539

C.G. Clark

C.G. Clark is an award-winning author of several novels, the mother of two, grandmother of nine, and wife of a retired military pilot. Her life and faith provide a wealth of raw material for her writing, but she also loves watching the world go by and waiting for the next flash of creativity. She hopes readers will connect with her characters, enjoy their journey, and perhaps draw inspiration from their stories.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1: BEWILDERED

The breeze was soft and warm with a sweet, clean fragrance of a recent spring shower. I paused, inhaling deeply, and when I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by the lush green of a grassy hillside. The light around me was like a living thing, an array of colored hues undulating in the air like an aurora borealis. There seemed to be no light source, but it was everywhere, leaving no room for shadows.

I spotted a thick forest at the bottom of the hill, past the trees, a lake, or maybe an ocean, with the surface glittering like diamonds. The trees moved as if alive, their branches swaying and rustling in the breeze I couldn’t feel. The sky above me was a brilliant, azure blue, flecked with iridescent clouds so close I thought I could reach out and touch them. It was breathtaking. But was it real?

Cautiously, I shifted to my hands and knees as if the motion could have had some unwanted result, but it didn’t. I stood, my breath taken away by the extraordinary beauty, wanting to remember every detail of this incredible sight. Vibrant color and light were everywhere, but no sound except that of my breathing and no other movement but the graceful sway of grass and leaves.

I spotted someone at the forest’s edge - they were standing there watching me. I wasn’t sure why, but I wasn’t afraid. I had never seen him before but didn’t feel he posed a threat. Who was he? I was stepping toward him when a horrible sound pierced the silence, and everything appeared to tilt and shake. I placed my palms to my ears and struggled to stay upright when the commotion came again, even more intense and shrill.

What’s happening?. I shouted, to whom I wasn’t sure.

My voice was muffled, swallowed up by the reverberating noise. Out of nowhere, the brilliant light and all the glorious colors began to fade.

No. Stop. Don’t go.

Then everything was gone, and I was standing in darkness.

Hello? Is anyone there?

Nothing answered. I was alone, and I had no idea where I was. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I saw what looked like a doorway in the distance. It seemed out of place. Had that been there before? I had been outside on a hill—I couldn’t recall any structure. Concentrating was hard—my mind felt foggy, and my memory was hazy.

Where am I? How did I get here?

With no answers in sight, I felt the only logical direction was toward the door—it was the only thing in view. It seemed so far away, and the darkness was so dense that I couldn’t even make out my hands when I lifted them toward my face. How was I supposed to know if there was a clear path?

What happened to the forest? Could I still be standing on the hillside? Am I really alone?

My heart raced as more questions surfaced that I could not answer. Every hair stood on end as dread coursed through me, my feet like lead weights that wouldn’t move.

The door, so far away, beckoned me. I felt sure that was the only way out, but I was too afraid to move, too unsure of what might be out there in the dark.

Had I always been this scared of the dark? How did I get here?

All I could remember was a beautiful place full of light, warmth, and color. I was there, and it felt safe. There was a man near the forest, and then everything vanished.

What if I never get out?

Then I heard it, a low, deep, throaty growl. I held my breath and peered into the darkness, straining to pick up any sound that might hint at the source of the noise. Was it an animal or something else? It sounded far away, but I wasn’t sure—it was too dark. I trembled as my fear morphed into terror, and I cried out in panic.

Help me. Please. Is anyone there?

My voice sounded so foreign, so unfamiliar in the silence, and I dropped back down to my knees, my hands on whatever surface was below me. It was cold and unforgiving, nothing like the soft carpet of grass I had felt only moments before.

Oh, God, please.

This time, my plea was a whisper that I was sure no one would hear. I closed my eyes, allowing tears to fall unchecked. Then I felt the same warmth that I had felt earlier. I wiped the tears away and strained to make out anything in the inky darkness.

Where was it coming from?

I mustered the courage to stand again, my hand shaking as I extended it into the unknown. Strange—when I reached out toward the door, the air felt warm, but as soon as I shifted away, the chill returned.

Is that the way I should go?

I took a deep breath and one step forward, then tested the space around me again, getting the same results. Behind and to each side of me, the air felt cold, while in front of me, it was warmer. It was as though something was guiding me.

I took another step, repeating the process over and over. Minutes may have passed, or it could have been hours. I had no concept of time but finally stood before the lighted outline. It looked like a door, but I saw no latch or knob. I wasn’t even sure it was a door. It was as if a glowing white rectangle had been painted on a pitch-black surface.

Now what?

I once heard that curiosity overcame fear, or maybe it was faith. I called on both this time as I tentatively reached out and touched the surface before me. I expected to feel something substantial like wood or steel, but it was neither. I was not entirely sure what it was and extended my hand to feel it again. Suddenly, I was standing in my room with its pale beige walls, delicate off-white curtains, and colorful throw rugs on wood flooring. I saw my bed, still neatly made as if it had not been slept in, and across the footboard was the denim jacket I wore the day before—and I was fully clothed.

How did I get here? What just happened?

I distinctly remembered going to bed but not waking up, dressing, or making my bed.

What the heck is going on? Am I losing my mind?

My heart thundered in my ears as apprehension resurfaced when a sudden pounding on the door and a familiar female voice jarred me back to reality.

Rowen. You up yet? Wake up, sleepyhead.

Before I could answer, the door flew open, and a young woman burst into the room.

Oh. You are up. She stopped just inside the door. Well, let’s get going. We’re going to be late.

Late?

She stared at me. Yes. Late. For work.

I looked down at the floor and frowned.

Work?

I turned my head toward the mirror over the bureau. Staring back at me was a face that seemed both familiar and strange. Yes, it was my face, small and oval, with a smattering of freckles across the nose. The eyes were green with flecks of brown and gold, and deep auburn waves cascaded past my shoulders. It was the face of a young woman—my face—yet the image somehow seemed foreign.

Roe? Are you okay?

I turned to look at her. She was roughly my height, fit, but not as slim. Her hair, cropped at the chin, was a warm brown that perfectly matched her dark amber eyes. She was my friend, Lina, and those eyes, usually full of energy and mischief, now held a definite look of concern. I blinked, shook my head to clear it, and lied.

Sorry, Lina. I’m fine. Just not completely awake yet.

Lina pursed her lips together, lifting one corner like she was chewing on the inside of her mouth, then huffed once and turned to leave.

Well, you’d better get with it. You’ve missed breakfast, and Heddie sent me up to get you. You can’t miss the bus again. If you do, she’ll have your head and mine. Come on.

I grabbed the jacket from the foot of my bed and paused. As I looked at it, my thoughts returned to my strange experience, but it had lost some clarity, like how the details of a dream faded after waking. I shook my head, convinced that was what it had been, and headed for the stairs.

My confusion cleared when my foot reached the landing, and I resolved to focus on what was in front of me for the day. I knew I would be met at the base of the stairs by the woman who would have my head for running late again. The knowledge would likely make others uneasy, but I also knew that Heddie’s fiery attitude and harsh words were just a cover for a compassionate heart. Heddie O’Reilly was my constant when everything else in my life might seem uncertain.

For the past three years, Heddie had filled the role of a surrogate mother. I had enjoyed the life of a college student while living at home and leaving was one of the hardest things I had ever done.

My mother was my parent but also one of my most trusted friends. My sisters, though sometimes exasperating, always stood up for me and acted as my staunch defenders if anyone dared to challenge me. They were sad to see me go but still supported me when I got the job of my dreams at Houchins-Cornwall Marketing, Inc., a highly respected marketing firm in New York City. Within the first year, I worked my way up to Marketing Director over a small team of marketing managers.

Initially, my meager salary would not support living on my own, and while my parents would have helped, I was determined to manage by myself. I found Heddie’s boarding house the day I landed my new job. With my promotion the following year, I could have upgraded to a newer and more modern apartment, but Heddie’s had become my home away from home. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

In addition to Heddie, I enjoyed the company of a few other colorful and eclectic individuals. Mr. Simmons was a retired college professor specializing in antiquities—an aspiring actress, Danielle Schmollinger, insisted she would soon be selecting her stage name—and a former Rabbi, Abram Morgan, and his wife, Sarah, provided an interesting aspect to the group. Finally, there was my friend Lina Charles, who also worked in marketing at Houchins-Cornwall. These were the people that filled in as my surrogate family.

My foot had just touched the last step when Heddie came into view from the kitchen—her lips pursed in annoyance.

You are going to miss the bus again, little missy.

I grinned, kissed her cheek, and reached for my jacket and scarf.

Not this morning. Lina will make sure of it.

Whoa there. Lina lifted her hand as if to ward off my words. I’ve already been advised I will be a party to the same tongue-lashing as you if you miss the bus. I’m here to say I’ve done all I can—I got you down the stairs. I can’t be held responsible if you drag your feet between here and there.

I watched Heddie lower her head, looking at Lina over the top edge of her glasses.

You mind your manners, dearie. You’re Rowen’s friend, are ye not? She did not wait for Lina to respond. Friends are a precious commodity, and they’re meant to look out for each other. She would do the same for you.

I wasn’t sure, but it almost looked like Lina shuddered. Once again, I felt things were just a little off-kilter, but it was gone as quickly as they surfaced. Heddie continued with a more familiar exchange, and the sensation was forgotten.

Be off, the both a-ya, before you’re late for work.

Lina snapped a mock salute. Yes, ma’am.

I thought she sounded too flippant, and I waited for Heddie to launch into her speech about respect and attitude. Instead, she stuffed a fresh muffin in my hand and shooed us out the door with one final reminder.

Do not miss the bus.

The hint of an Irish lilt was there, the sharp edge to her words and the softness in her face that signaled her caring nature. This felt more familiar.

Despite the early hour, Lina and I wove through the crowd already filling the walkway, and we reached the stop just as the bus arrived. I headed for the rear of the vehicle, Lina in close trail, and slid into a vacant seat next to the window while Lina chattered about something to do with the latest guy that had caught her eye. I tried to listen, but my mind kept wondering about whatever had happened to me that morning.

Or was it last night? Why did it look like I had not slept in my bed? And where did I come up with such ideas in the first place?

I had never seen anything like it, the landscape, the light. And then there was the darkness, the door, the warmth that seemed to guide me through the void.

Was there an animal? What about the man at the edge of the forest? What happened to him? Wow. My imagination must really be on overload.

Hello-o-o. Anybody there?

I jumped as Lina’s sing-song sarcasm broke through my thoughts.

Sorry.

What’s up with you, anyway? You haven’t heard a thing I’ve said since we sat down.

I heard the irritation in her voice. Lina had never been very good at hiding her feelings, not that she ever really tried.

I don’t know, Lina. Guess I didn’t sleep well last night.

Her eyes narrowed, indicating she was not buying my excuse, but she didn’t press for a better one. Instead, she targeted the person sitting across the aisle and launched into her story again, something I silently appreciated. How could I explain things to Lina if I didn’t understand them myself?

I watched the buildings race past my line of sight and let myself get lost in the sound of blended voices on the crowded bus. Even though it seemed familiar, things still felt just a little off-balance. Then again, maybe I was letting my imagination run away with me.

I decided that was the case, which meant it was something I could control. When the bus reached our stop, I almost felt like myself again and thought today might turn into a good one. Then again, when I looked out the bus window as the bus rolled to a stop, I changed my mind.

Lina leaned over my shoulder—she didn’t try to mask her disgust.

Ugh. Valeri and her cronies.

I nodded, knowing what was likely to come next.

Lina was already heading toward the exit but stopped when she reached the door.

You planning on taking up residence, or are you getting off any time soon?

I’m coming. I collected my belongings, taking a moment to bolster my confidence. Head up, Roe. Time to face the music.

CHAPTER 2: CONFRONTATION

As we stepped off the bus, every head in the courtyard turned toward us. They looked like a pack of wolves targeting a fresh kill, and we were the prey.

Well, well. So nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.

The statement was dripping with sickeningly sweet sarcasm.

Good morning, Valeri.

I kept my tone calm while weaving through the group toward the door. We were on company property but hadn’t started work yet. I decided to choose my battles, but Valeri had other ideas.

See you in the staff meeting.

I heard her group snicker and resisted the temptation to match her sarcasm, keeping my voice steady and even. Yep. See you there.

Maybe you’ll be ready this time.

The snickers erupted into cackles, and I turned, locking eyes with her. I will be. Will you?

So much for keeping my sarcasm in check.

Based on Valeri’s expression, my delivery was spot-on, and I braced myself. Lina stepped in as Valeri and the others moved toward me.

Come on, Val. Let’s not let things get out of hand. Lina tipped her head toward the small device mounted on the corner of the building. Especially with cameras recording everything. We wouldn’t want the higher-ups to get the wrong idea, would we?

Valeri glanced over Lina’s shoulder, then stepped backward, prompting her group to do the same. No. Of course not.

I resumed heading toward the building, making each step a conscious decision to walk away, but as I was about to open the door, Valeri said one last thing—more of a warning than anything else.

This won’t be the end of it, Rowen.

I took another