Penult (The Liminality, Part Four)

Chapter 23: Search Party

When I hung up the phone I felt as my vital organs had all been rearranged. I felt more discombobulated now than when I had just woken up from my two day coma.

I couldn’t be sure that Wendell didn’t already have Karla despite my visions. I couldn’t trust that the glimpses of Karla I had garnered through the Liminality were even real. And keeping her alive under Wendell’s care? She might perceive that as a betrayal of her wishes. In her frame of mind of late, forcing her to stay alive might be her worst conceivable torture. But if she was miserable, would that not force her to the Liminality where I had a better chance of finding her?

No path seemed right. No outcome seemed favorable. But getting Wendell involved at least gave me some assurance that I would actually learn what had happened to her. Not knowing her fate was the worst part of all this.

I felt so awful after that call that I could almost feel the roots come swarming in the periphery of my senses, ready to take me back. I guess that was the point of Wendell’s manipulations.

But my soul wasn’t quite ready to return to the Liminality. The little bit of hope that kept my soul moored was that Karla might still be free of Wendell, roaming some city on her own like the girl in my vision. How long could she stay free? That was the question. Clearly, it was only a matter of time before Wendell’s people found her and put her away.

***

The hospital released me the next morning, but Renfrew remained stuck in the hospital. Jess brought me home and I spent the afternoon sitting in the attic, staring out the window. Helen had to beg me to come down for lunch. Needless to say, my mood remained ripe for a visitation. The only thing that kept me here was the urge to spite Wendell.

But what was the point of carrying on here if I would never see Karla again on this side of life? I had no doubt that Wendell had the capability to carry out his threat. All he cared about was keeping me miserable.

My only hope was to go out and find her myself, before Wendell’s people got her. It was a rather hopeless hope but it was all I had left.

Helen finally managed to coax me down the attic stairs for a snack. Spread on the table were cookies dipped in chocolate, a bowl of fresh strawberries and a platter of lemon tarts. I looked at these goodies as if it were a bunch of sheep’s eyes and spoiled tripe. I did not partake.

“Why so glum?” said Helen. Jess caught my eye and held my gaze. Of all the ladies, she had the clearest understanding of what was going on with me.

“We can go find her ourselves,” said Britt.

“A road trip! Any idea where she might have gone?” said Kitt.

“It has to be the father,” said Helen. “First Isobel, now her. Who else would take them both?”

I didn’t say a word about Wendell. In fact, I did not say a word, period.

“Glasgow,” said Helen. “That’s where he and his lot were setting up his base of operations. What a place for a bunch of super Catholics to end up. Scotland, of all places. What were they thinking?”

“Like the old Irish missionaries. That’s what they’re thinking,” said Fiona. “That they are one and the same.”

“I bet the Scots don’t fancy that,” said Helen. “Anyhow. Let’s go! I’ll pack some goodies to take. It will be good to get out of town for a bit. It’s been ages since I’ve been on a holiday.”

“What about Ren?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” said Helen. “This will force him to spend more time with his brother. Our neighbor is looking after the goats.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said. “I don’t want to put you all in harm’s way. I mean, it’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“Karla’s father. He’s … a threat. And … not just him.”

“It’s true,” said Jess. “These Sedevacantists. Izzie told me that they’re heavily armed. They practically have their own militia.”

“Not a problem,” said Britt. “I served three years in the SAS. Helen can stay back with Fiona. Us tough gals can help the lad.”

“Tough gals?” said Fiona, cocking an eyebrow.

“You don’t think I’m tough enough?” said Britt.

“You, maybe. But Jess?”

“What? How am I not tough?” said Jess, gaping in mock indignation.

“You’re a girlie girl like me,” said Fiona. “Yes, you worked on a goat farm but … I can’t see you fighting anyone.”

“Why should you two have all the fun?” said Helen. “What are me and Fiona supposed to do? Stay home and do needlework?”

“I suppose we could close the gallery for a week or two,” said Britt. “Declare a holiday.”

“That settles it, then. We all go!” said Jess. “I’ll go online and book us some train tickets to Glasgow.”

“A search party!” said Fiona. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“Fiona! Please! Be serious,” said Helen. “There may have been a kidnapping.”

But Fiona could not hide her excitement. She was practically buzzing with thrill. As for me, I had serious doubts whether this was a good idea but I did not have near the energy to blunt their momentum.