Chapter Twenty-three

In the velvet blackness, Rebecca awoke, head throbbing and her vision blurred. She gazed about — in a strange room lit by an almost full moon. How long was she unconscious? She saw the comforting sight of her kid sister sleeping, curled up on the canopy bed. The black night enveloped her soft features, but her chestnut hair shone in the moonlight, and Rebecca stroked it for a second. Then she remembered. They were trapped. Yet, for a few tender moments, Rebecca could still share her love for her sibling. Her insides crumbled as she recalled how she brought her trusting sister to this choking snare of Sharif ’s.

She looked out toward the beam of moonlight and saw the balcony again, perched hundreds of feet above the concrete and asphalt maze of sidewalks, streets and driveways. All around the balcony were stars, dancing as if they were on stage. The imperishable stars.

She walked in a trance to the window and found it was made of sliding glass. Perhaps, it presented a way out of this nightmare in which Sharif had caged them. The door opened with a swish, and she stepped out into the warm night, feeling a humid breeze touch her cheek. The sleek wind was like a brush of satin. She knew she wasn’t alone.

Noise floated up from the street below — but something else called to her. There was someone there just on the other side of the stars. Someone also in a dark gloom, who was calling for her. The Other. Rebecca tipped her head like a bird listening to a coded song. Yes, there was a voice asking for her. Your purpose is here. You are needed. Calling her but choking at the same time. Someone with little air to make a sound. A person who needed Rebecca’s pluck.

The imperishable stars. Rebecca searched the heavens, looking for the one star that bade her to come, but all she could see now were blinking apartment lights and beacons out on the lake. She looked at the beautiful patterns the artificial illumination created. Some office building lighting fixtures were arranged in precise grids. She stepped farther out on the balcony, as the railing pressed against her chest. She began to speak.

“The doors of the sky are opened for me, and the doors of the earth are opened for me, the door-bolts of Geb are opened for me, the shutters of the sky windows are open for me.” She knew she chanted a memorized spell from the Egyptian Book of Coming Forth By Day. The language sailed through her with force, although she never heard these foreign words spoken before. In fact, no one in her century had heard them spoken before, because hieroglyphs don’t include vowels. Egyptologists just guessed at the sound, based on Coptic Egyptian, which still retains some of the last remaining old Egyptian words. For Rebecca, the ancient speech became just right for her.

The stars invited her closer. She stood on the lone chair on the balcony.

“May I have power in my hearing, may I have power in my arms, may I have power in my legs, may I have power in my mouth, may I have power in all my members. May I have power over water, over air, over the streams, over riparian lands, over the men who would harm me, over the women who would harm me.”

Amy moaned in the other room, as if coming awake, but Rebecca did not stop reciting the sacred words. A sudden wind stirred up loose papers and beach sand down on the ground.

The utterances caused Rebecca to step higher, and when the small patio table proved too low, she climbed right on top of the balcony railing. She stood with sure dancer’s feet on the thick railing, balancing like a tightrope walker. Below her, people were yelling, a sea of voices all cascading, all saying the same thing. “Get down.”

Amy stumbled in from the bedroom and stood still as a frightened terrier, hand to chest, looking at Rebecca in desperation. Rebecca smiled back at her, steadying herself with no thought of how it appeared to others.

A voice crackled through a megaphone: “Are you okay up there?” She looked down. Police cars pulled up in front of the building, and a small crowd was gathered below. They looked like little doll people, and she laughed.

Jonas’ voice, dear Jonas, sizzled through the balky speaker. “Rebecca, be careful. The police know about Sharif … his criminal record. They are going to arrest him now. You and Amy are safe.” He was silent a minute, then, “Just don’t do anything crazy. I love you. Stay safe.”

Rebecca sent blessings down to Jonas.

She looked over at Amy and offered her prayers of love. The stars were beginning to part, and Rebecca knew she had only moments before she’d lose her chance to unite with the spirit who implored her. Time was getting tight. The universes were pulling apart.

“Get down off the balcony railing,” a different amplified voice said. “An officer is coming up to get you.” Rebecca laughed, her glory shimmering straight through the portal in the heavens. You are needed to fulfill your purpose.

Rebecca spoke to the sky. “You are the Ka, and I am the Ba, the other part you miss. We must be together.” It was the first time she realized this. It made so much sense. Why else had the Other been calling on her? Why else the close connection with the Egyptian world? Why else did she never feel part of the world she was born into?

She turned to Amy. Her sister would never see her dance. For this, she was sorry. So, she took a deep lungful of air and vowed to make it right. She had to make this the best performance she could muster. Tonight.

“The cavern is opened for those who are in the Abyss, and those who are in the sunshine are released,” she chanted. It would be perfect.

“Don’t. Please stop.” A police voice, speaking through a megaphone, detached, unable to know the duties of the Ba.

“She’s the girl from the bus. See?”

“Rebecca, please,” Jonas said. “They are arresting Sharif.”

Someone pounded on the bedroom door, which Sharif had locked with his key. Amy ran to open it. Lenore screamed in the background. A policeman ran in, announcing they were in the apartment and looking for Sharif Cadmus. “Please, come out of there. You’re safe with us.”

Amy ran to balcony, too, but froze again, fearing to touch her sister. The policeman followed and reached out a more confident hand to catch Rebecca.

“Please, just ease yourself back down toward the officer.” a voice from the street said.

Rebecca blew a sweet kiss downwind to Jonas. The moment would be fulfilled. Hands grabbed at her ankles.

The stars closed together for one brilliant moment. Then Rebecca — dancer, stage star, one half of a magnificent soul — coiled her muscles and sprang. Out, higher than she had ever leaped before. Into the stargate, where she would never be separated from her other half again.