CHAPTER 3
Presley wandered down the path until she came upon a wide creek. The creek rushed with overflowing water from the recent rain. She sat down near the creek on a rock and leaned her guitar against a nearby tree and her song book beside it. Presley shut her eyes and for a moment the world was quiet and peaceful. She dreaded the thought of returning to her perplexing life. She felt as confused and unsure as she had the night before. She wondered why she still had feelings for Tyler when he was admittedly unfaithful. She wondered why her life was such a mess. She felt as if she had never truly been loved by anyone. She wanted to be loved and she wanted Tyler to be the one who loved her.
Presley opened her eyes and watched the fast waters run over the creek rocks. She noticed a large dip in the middle of the stream and walked over to get a better look. As she peered into the water she noticed a strange whirlpool which grew larger as she got closer. Puzzled, Presley leaned down to touch it, and as she did she felt a tremendous amount of pressure against her body. Suddenly, she was being pulled, sucked into a tunnel filled with bright mixtures of vivid colors. The colors flashed by her one after another, zooming past her head until she finally blacked out.
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Presley awoke with a horrible headache, “Ow, ow!” Presley screamed while holding her head. “My head - what happened?”
She briefly wondered if she had been beaten or attacked. She struggled to stand and felt her head for blood. As her eyes began to focus, she was instantly overcome with beauty. Strange wonderful colors surrounded her. The land was covered with a gorgeous blanket of bright flowers for as far as she could see. Confused, she began walking. As she walked, the flowers began to turn different colors. Each flower was supported by a long skinny stem that resembled a neck. They twisted and turned, following Presley as if she were the sun. She watched in astonishment, as they turned into the most magnificent shades of color. Each part of the flower slowly turned deep orange to bright yellow, while other parts turned light shades of purple. The flowers began to sway as if they all danced to the same silent tune. There were trees grand in size, and their branches swayed along with the flowers in perfect sequence. The grass was metallic green, and it felt as soft as feathers.
“Am I dead?" Presley asked herself. “Is this heaven?” she whispered. She started down a small path in the center of the field of flowers. She didn’t know where she was, but she felt very calm and safe. A crow flew overhead and landed on a nearby tree. She noticed a little cottage in a nook surrounded by trees. Uncertain of what she would find, she cautiously sneaked over to it.
The cottage was built out of rocks and had a thatched roof. A wooden fence surrounded the perimeter of the yard. As Presley approached the fence she peered into the house through an open window. She saw a girl sitting on a chair and she was crying. Suddenly the girl turned toward the window as if she could feel Presley watching her. Presley recognized her as the strange girl who had appeared in her dreams. The girl slowly rose from the chair, walked to the door, and carefully opened it. She seemed terrified as she intensely examined the surrounding land. The girl guardedly walked to a large boulder in the yard and sat there for a few minutes. She appeared to be distraught and in deep thought. Presley finally stood up and walked a little closer to the girl.
“Excuse me,” Presley said quietly. Obviously startled, the girl jumped up, and stood frozen, staring at Presley. Suddenly, in a paranoid fashion, she ran fiercely toward Presley, halting at the fence.
“You’re lost,” the girl whispered, breathless as her hands shook.
“Yeah, I guess I am. I don’t really know. Can you help me?” Presley asked.
“They don’t know that you’re here?” the girl asked, her eyes shifting back and forth.
“Who?” Presley asked back.
Suddenly there was a rapid change in the sky. It grew increasing darker, turning a hazy gray. A storm was approaching.
“They know you’re here now,” the girl said gazing up at the sky out of the corner of her eye.
“Who?” Presley asked again. Presley noticed the girl growing more agitated by the second. The girl grabbed Presley by her arms and pulled her down to the ground.
“You have to run. Turn around and follow the same path you took to get here. Listen to me very carefully. You have to run as fast as you can down that path. You will come to a big tree, on the left. Her name is Gracie."
“What? Gracie? A tree? What are you talking about?”
“I don’t have time to explain this to you right now," the girl said with frustration in her voice. “Everything that you know, or you think that you know, isn’t true here. If you want to live then find Gracie. She’s a distinctive white weeping willow tree that stands high in the sky. Ask her to protect you. Now go! I will find you tomorrow."
The girl turned around and started to run back toward the cottage.
“Wait! Where am I? How do I get home? What’s your name?" Presley shouted. The girl ran back to Presley.
I can’t help you right now. I can’t go with you. It’s not safe. I will find you tomorrow. For now, you have to hide!" The girl turned away as Presley grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Wait . . . what’s your name? Tell me your name!” Presley asked sternly.
“My name is Paulette,” she said, as she jerked her arm from Presley’s grasp. “Please, go to Gracie! You must hurry or they will capture you and you will never make it back home. Now go!" As Paulette ran off, Presley stood for a few moments, astonished, trying to process what she had just heard.
“Paulette. This can’t be happening,” she whispered to herself. “Paulette? She’s the girl in my dreams? But, I never knew her. How did I know what she looked like?" A gust of wind blew and a lightning bolt jolted down from the sky and hit the boulder, incinerating it. Presley ran. The wind didn’t subside, holding Presley back. Rolling thunder echoed through the dark sky and cold rain began to fall. Presley saw the white tree and she began to scream.
“Gracie! Help me! Please help me!” The weeping willow folded out her branches and rapidly began to weave them together to form a matrix. Another branch, acting like an arm, pulled Presley up and placed her on the woven bed. The branches then formed a cocoon and wrapped Presley until she was completely covered with the branches.
Presley lay there whispering to herself, “What is going on? This has to be a dream.” She pinched herself hoping she’d wake up, only to realize that she was very much awake. “Where am I? Could Paulette, the girl in my dreams, be the Paulette my grandmother knew? But, she was fifteen when she went missing in 1954. This girl looks to be fifteen. So, there is no way she could be the same Paulette. It just can’t be possible. But, then again, how possible is it to be woven up by a tree?”
Presley stayed awake all night. She was anxious to see Paulette again. She had so many questions to ask her. She wondered how she was going to get home, and if her mom had even noticed that she was missing. Would she panic and call the police, or maybe even call Tyler? She liked that thought. Maybe Tyler would worry about her and realize how much he loved her. Presley was entertaining these thoughts throughout the night and well into the early morning, when she heard a voice from the night before.
“Gracie, thank you for your help. Please release the girl now," the voice said. Gently the tree unraveled its branches and slowly lowered Presley to the ground. Presley looked intently at the tree. It was the most beautiful tree she had ever seen. She reached out and touched the soft flesh- like bark and limber branches that hung so gracefully. Thick velvet- like leaves draped downward from the branches.
“Hi," Paulette said.
“Who are you?” Presley asked.
“I told you. My name’s Paulette. Let me explain all of this to you later. We have to get back to town before they come
back," Paulette said suspiciously.
“Before I go anywhere I need to know two things. I need to know who you are and who they are," Presley demanded.
“My name is Paulette Shepard and they are the spirits who want to destroy us. Please come with me back to town. I will try and explain on the way.”
“Town? What town?” questioned Presley.
“The town where I live, where we all live," Paulette said. She looked onto the peaceful rolling hills. She touched Gracie’s trunk and said, “Thank you for your help, my friend, I will see you back at town.” As the girls start down the path, Presley noticed that the landscape looked the same as it did the day before. It was a magnificent sight. There were beautiful bright blue birds flying in light blue sky. The contrast was breathtaking.
“Please tell me what’s going on. I know of a Paulette Shepard who went missing years ago and I also know that she was fifteen years old . . . in 1954. Now, how can that be when you don’t look any older than fifteen yourself? Never mind. That’s crazy. You can’t be the same Paulette Shepard."
“How do you know I was missing? Where are you from?” she said apprehensively, her eyes squinted. Suddenly, chills ran up and down Presley’s spine. She swallowed hard.
“My grandmother told me the story about Paulette many years ago. My grandmother was friends with Paulette’s mother," Presley said in a calm slow tone. Paulette’s eyes began to fill up with tears.
“Where are my mother and father? Do you know? And my brothers . . . what did they think happened to me? Tell me are my parents alive?” Paulette put her head in her hands and began to sob.
Hesitantly, Presley decided to continue with the story but was beginning to think the girl could be mentally unstable.
“The last that I knew your mother and father were both still alive, but that was many years ago. I don’t know your family personally. My grandma did, but she has since passed away. I do know that your parents were put in a nursing home some time ago," Presley said, still doubtful that this girl was the Paulette from back home.
“Who is your grandmother?" Paulette asked.
“Her name was Lillian," Presley said.
“Oh, yes, I remember your grandmother, Lillian Dae." Hearing the girl say her grandmother’s last name sent more chills over Presley’s body.
“How did you know my grandmother’s last name?” Presley asked.
“Because, I knew her too. Lillian and my mother, Karen, were friends. I remember your grandmother having green plastic glasses that they’d drink their tea from. My mother would pick fresh mint from our garden, and they would sit and have their iced tea in the green plastic glasses with a sprig of fresh mint to top it off," she sniffled as she wiped her nose with her hand. We just lived down the road from your grandmother," she said softly. Presley remembered her grandmother’s green glasses.
“How can it be that you went missing back in the fifties and you are still fifteen years old?" Presley asked, now convinced that this girl was indeed Paulette Shepard.
“You mean, how have I remained fifteen? Well, we don’t age here. Nor do we get sick, and there is no disease,” she answered.
“Okay, do I dare ask? Where is here?” Presley questioned again.
“I think that I should let Jesse answer that,” said Paulette.
“Try to explain,” begged Presley.
“Well, I can tell you this,” Paulette started, “you are a long way from home. A few galaxies away, in fact. Jesse has tried to explain all of this to me but it’s way over my head. All I know is that I’m going back home. That’s what I was trying to do when I ran into you at the cottage. I was trying to find a way home."
“So, there is a way to get back home?” Presley asked.
“There has to be," Paulette said unsurely.
Presley remembered that in her pocket was Paulette’s barrette. She reached in and pulled it out.
“I believe this belongs to you. I recently told some of my friends about your disappearance, and out of curiosity I went into your house yesterday. I found this in one of the rooms.
Paulette grabbed the barrette, and stared at it, and then began to cry again.
“I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name,” she wept.
“My name is Presley.”
“Presley?” Paulette cocked her head to the side.
“Yeah. Well, my mother is obsessed with Elvis Presley, hence the name,” Presley joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Elvis Presley!" Paulette exclaimed. “I use to love listening to Elvis Presley on my record player. My parents never knew that I had one of his records. I remember listening to him, late at night when my parents were asleep. If they ever knew I was listening to him, well . . . I would’ve been in big trouble!"
“For listening to Elvis Presley?” Presley asked with a judgmental undertone.
“Oh shucks, yes! They were so strict. They said that he was a vulgar dancer. Most of my friend’s parents banned his music from their homes, too. It wasn’t only my parents," she insisted.
“Wow!” Presley said, “If they thought Elvis was controversial, I wonder what your parents think about today’s music."
“I wonder what my parents think happened to me.”
“I think that they thought you were kidnapped by some local hate group. I think they feel that you are dead.”
“That’s always been my fear. My father and a few other men headed up a civil rights group in Missouri. My father fought for African American rights, and at a cost, too. We had crosses burned in our yard and rocks thrown through our windows. It was very odd that your grandmother wanted to be friends with my mother. Your grandmother being white and my mother being black. She was a great lady, your grandmother."
“Well, the world has come a long way. We have even had an African American President,” Presley stated. Paulette’s face instantly lit up.
“In the White House? No kidding?” Paulette said, with a smile as she shook her head.
“I can hardly believe that!”
“How far away is this camp, anyway?” Presley asked.
“It’s just right over the hill,” said Paulette. An eerie feeling came over Presley. She felt, once again, as if someone were watching her.
Presley turned behind her and gasped, “Paulette! Look!”
Paulette quickly spun around to see multiple funnel clouds off in the distance. The sky abruptly transformed to dark green. The funnel clouds rapidly became massive tornadoes, heading toward the girls.
“They’re going to kill us!” screamed Paulette. The girls ran up the hill with the tornadoes quickly approaching. Their hair blew violently in the relentless wind. The tornadoes merged into one huge gray force. The wind grew stronger; ripping trees from their roots and tossing them as if they were toothpicks.
“We aren’t going to make it!” shouted Presley.
“We will make it! We are almost there! Please, you must believe that we’ll make it!” Paulette shouted back-the wind drowning her screams.
They finally made it to the top of the hill where Presley could vaguely see a tall rock wall through the falling rain and debris.
“Open the gates!” Paulette shouted. The guards that stood on top of the wall jumped from their posts and scrambled to open the massive wooden gates.
“Open the gates!” Paulette shouted again. The thunderous noise of the ruthless storm swept away Paulette’s voice once again. Finally, the gates were open and the girls collapsed to the ground inside. The men quickly shut the gates, and as they all braced themselves for the impact of the tornado, it hit the compound only to mysteriously disintegrate into the air.
The girls lay on the ground for awhile unable to catch their breath. One of the guards asked Presley if she was alright. Unabl
e to speak, she just nodded her head to indicate she was okay. Finally, Paulette stood up and said, “Let me guess, you fear tornadoes."
“Yes. I do. Why?” she asked between breaths.
“Because that’s what they do. Fiend and the others, they create our worst fears. Mine happens to be fire, yours tornadoes.”
A growing crowd of people had begun surrounding the girls. Presley was surprised by the strange appearance of the people. Many of the women wore long flowing gowns with gathered sleeves and pinned brooches. Some wore bonnets on their heads. They all looked as if they were from a different time. Presley slowly scanned the crowd realizing that she was indeed far from home.
“Let me through!” shouted a male voice. Presley watched as a man shoved his way through the crowd.
“Paulette!” he yelled. “What’s wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed or, worse yet, captured? I’ve stayed up all night worried that you were caught! Do you think of nobody but yourself? Why didn’t you tell someone that you were leaving? If you were so hell bent on leaving then we could have at least tried to protect you. One of us would have gone with you," he shouted.
Presley listened to him go on with his rampage. She wanted to defend her new acquaintance, but she couldn’t speak. Not only because was she out of breath, but because he was absolutely breathtaking. To her, he was the most beautiful guy she had ever seen.
He was perfect. His long dirty brown hair was pulled back out of his face. His piercing dark intense brown eyes were captivating. He had golden skin due to the hot sun, and he was muscular and strong. He wore overalls with a white handkerchief in his back right pocket, boots and no shirt. He had dirt under his fingernails and a little dirt smudge on his face.
“Oh, relax, Jesse. Nobody was hurt,” Paulette shouted back.
“Nobody was hurt? By sheer luck nobody was hurt," he said firmly.
“If she hadn’t been there, I surely would have died," Presley finally interjected.
Jesse looked at Presley who was still lying on the ground. He stared, strangely, at her for a few moments, seemingly frozen by her presence. He shook off the silence and quickly rushed to her side.
“Are you alright?” he asked sympathetically, as he held out his hand to help her up.
As she took his hand, she felt as if everybody else was gone and it was only the two of them. He peered into her eyes and Presley felt a rush through her body. She couldn’t place this feeling because she had never felt this way before, but it was intense, real and intriguing.
Paulette, obviously mocking Jesse, said, “Oh, can I help you? Forget poor Paulette. She don’t need any help. I’m fine too, Jesse, just in case you were wondering. I’m just fine," she said in a smart-aleck tone.
“I’m sorry Paulette. Are you alright?” he asked without taking his eyes off of Presley.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just said I’m fine," Paulette sassed.
“Okay, great. Everyone’s safe now. Let’s get you girls cleaned up over at Paulette’s house,” Jesse said.
The group of people that had been surrounding them started to slowly walk away.
“So, what’s your name?” Jesse asked Presley.
“My name is Presley, Presley Dae,” she replied.
“Don’t go into to the whole Elvis Presley spiel. I can tell you right now he won’t know who he is,” Paulette laughed.
“How do you do? I’m Jesse Pike," he said politely.
“Nice to meet you," Presley said anxiously. “Where am I? I mean obviously I am a very long way from home. I know that this is going to sound crazy, but did I travel back in time or something?” Presley said impatiently as she looked around spastically.
“Come on. Let’s get you a hot bath and into some clean clothes. Then I will explain where you are. The best that I can anyhow,” he promised.
They began walking down the worn dirt road. Horse drawn carriages rode past them stirring up the dry dust. Businesses and stores made of wood lined the dirt road on both sides. They walked through the small town, until they came to a group of small log cabins. They were lined up in a row, forming a little neighborhood. Some homes had porches on the front, but that was about the only difference between them. All of the structures looked the same.
“Who built these cabins?” Presley asked.
“Most of the men who live here helped me build them,” Jesse said. “Paulette’s cabin was the last one we built.”
“This is my cabin.” Paulette said, “The last one on the left."