A Literary Work In Progress

We Divide The Sky

By. C.A. Foley

Prologue:

Silence. That was the terror of it. Silence, and the certainty that what I’d seen would soon come to pass. I shivered as the cool night breeze swept into my room through the open window and met my sweat-soaked skin. I swallowed, my throat felt like coarse sand-paper. I rubbed my hand across my head, felt my pulse still racing, though with every breath I grew more exhausted. My eyes closed slowly although I fought sleep. I saw the terrible sight again.
Nausea hit with enough force to conquer my fear, and I scrambled from the safety of my bed into the cold bathroom. Vomiting at midnight is not a habit of mine, but with my stomach rolling the way it was, I reckoned it would be a part of this night. I was too tired and scared to care. Standing shakily above the toilet, I questioned myself. Why would God tell me, why show me bits of the future? I closed my eyes again and saw the lifeless body of my neighbor Martin surrounded by a pool of his own blood.
“ Why?” I asked furiously, feeling the world begin to spin. Why not warn Martin himself? I wonder, or even his mom, or his dad?
The night passed slowly, but it passed, and I watched the sunrise. Breakfast was unthinkable. I made my way to the kitchen anyway. Bacon sizzled on the skillet and eggs popped. I’d always thought it was a happy sound– now it was a mere annoyance as I pondered how to tell my parents about last night’s vision– and I was sure now it was a vision, even if I didn’t know why I’d had it. Maybe I shouldn’t even tell them, My shoulders fell at the thought. Would I have to bear it alone? Lord, help me!

“Leah, are you all right?” Mom asked. I nodded, still trying to collect my thoughts.
“ You look like you haven’t slept at all,” Dad said around a bite of eggs.
“ Nightmare.” I said, not wanting to worry them, “ I had a snack right before bed, it gave me indigestion.” They nod in understanding. My sigh escapes before I can stop it. I want to tell them about my vision, but I can’t. Not yet.
“ Could I have some coffee, please?” I asked Mom. She nodded and poured me a mug.
“Toast?” Dad asked. I shook my head, fighting more nausea.
“Don’t forget, tonight is the first night of Youth Camp.” Mom said. I bit my lip. How did I manage to forget?
“Great!” I said, faking a smile, “ I can’t wait,”
“ Mom and I are going to Truth or Consequences, we have some property to sell.” Dad said. I nodded, trying to figure out how to warn Martin, and put a stop to this nightmare event. My head began to spin and nausea continued to fight for control. I stood in an attempt to reach the bathroom before it won.
“ You’ll be back tomorrow?” I asked. They nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you then,” I said, trying to smile and hugging them both.
“ Have fun tonight!” they called after me.
“ Okay!” I felt guilty for lying, even so I was relieved that they did not notice my dilemma .
I dressed in worn jeans, my old leather boots, and a cotton t-shirt, getting ready to ride. I ride when I’m worried, or happy, or even scared. Never when I’m angry, though, I draw the line at angry. Riding is when I feel closest to God and when I sort things out. My beautiful sorrel mare, Annie, waited patiently in the barn. She was getting old, she’d been around since I was a toddler, but she loved our morning routine as much as I did. I saddled up and headed out onto our range land. There were benefits to living on a ranch. Prevalent open ranges and calming quiet were some of them.
The mesquite and yucca all around waved in the wind, they looked small against the backdrop of El Capitan. I turned Annie toward my favorite spot on the ranch, Cripple Creek. It’s a funny story really, how it got it’s name, I was five at the time, I loved old bluegrass music and I loved the song “ Cripple Creek.” When I found this muddy little stream– not even a foot deep– I awarded it the name Cripple Creek , and the name stuck. As Annie and I topped a hill, the view of the valley below and Cripple Creek trickling though it brought me some peace.
“ Leah?” a familiar accented voice took me from my pleasant thoughts. There could be a murderer somewhere around, and I had gone out all alone. Luckily, I recognized the intruders voice. I turned around, greeting my friend and his face full of concern.
“ I hoped I’d find you here,.” he said, speaking slowly to sort out the Spanish and English jumble in his mind.
“ I was having breakfast with my aunt and uncle, your parents dropped by and asked me to check on you. They said you looked green at breakfast.” I’ve been a Christian for half of my life, and I still marvel at the way God answers prayers.
“I could use a little help,” I said, feeling the weight of my knowledge press in on my shoulders like two full sacks of chicken feed.Chapter One

Albuquerque, NM

Sunday, August 12th, 2007

After a long day at work I’d felt entitled to a long night of relaxation. For me, that means ice-cream and television.  Eventually I tuned in to the Fox News channel. The half-finished ice-cream carton on my lap chided me, I pushed it aside and focused on the TV.  My eyelids fell as I tried to focus on the weather report.
“ Another day of temperatures soaring in triple-digit torture, folks. But on the bright side, we have a cold front coming this weekend to look forward to.”  I found myself wishing that I would be here to feel the cool, but I wouldl be down in Ebbson, New Mexico before the week was out. It had been too long since I’d visited my sister,  brother-in-law, and my niece.
Commercials filled the screen and I mentally went over my list of things to pack. Toothbrush. Deodorant. CD’s. Assured I had them all packed, I stood and took the thoroughly plundered ice-cream to the kitchen. More TV, or bed? That was the biggest choice I had to make, and I loved the irresponsibility of it. I decided to watch a TV for a few minutes more and maybe sleep on the couch instead if the hotel-like bed in my room. I sank into the couch once more, pressed the menu button on the remote, and scrolled toward AMC, hoping to catch an old western. The FOX channel caught my eye. BREAKING NEWS! The screen said, AMBER ALERT. I flicked it back to Fox for a moment.
“ We’ve just received news from the small town of Ebbson, NM, where a murder and kidnapping have occurred on the same night.” The words caught me like I slap in the face. My pulse raced, I leaned forward and  turned up the volume.
“ The victims, nineteen year old Martin Stockton– found dead Saturday morning in his tent– and seventeen year old Leah Monroe, kidnapped apparently on the same night, were last seen Friday night at the Ebbson Baptist Church annual youth retreat. Tonight we’ll hear from the parents of both victims as well as the youth pastor in charge of the teens at Friday night’s camp.”
I stopped breathing. My remote hit the floor. Had a heart monitor been hooked to me, it would’ve gone from racing to flat line in less than one second. My niece had been kidnapped! What happened? Why hadn’t Shelly called? I had to get down there, leave a few days early, see what I could do to help. My mind raced at 100 miles per hour. I stayed glued to the television the rest of the night, trying–and failing– to get a hold of Shelly. The interview with my sister and bother-in-law lasted less than a minute. They had no information other than that Leah had been gone for more than a day.

The sun was well into the sky when I awoke. My eyes throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and my body ached. I uncurled and stretched, hoping to remove the kinks I’d received from sleeping on that pitiful excuse for a couch. I grabbed my phone, tried to reach Shelley again. Nothing. The answering machine picked up as I stumbled to the kitchenette,
“ Shelley! It’s Collette. What is going on? Call me, I’m heading down there today, okay? Love you.”  Coffee. What I needed now was coffee. I unburied the coffee machine and set some to percolate. The Native-American art and watercolor landscapes that graced my wall were what had come with the apartment I was renting, as was every piece of furniture. I’d done absolutely nothing to make this place home, mostly because it never would be home. At least there wouldn’t be much to pack. I sighed and walked into the always dark back bedroom, time to finish packing.