The Crossing Trilogy

Prologue

September 21, 2000…

September 21, 2000…Elizabeth Grey awoke with a start. Her eyes popped open. A feeling of dread passed through her. She glanced to her left and noted her husband"s absence from their bed. The LED digits on the alarm clock read eight a.m. Elizabeth sat up and stretched. She shook off her unrest. Must have been a dream I don"t remember. She padded to the bathroom, washed her face and hands, put her housecoat on over her nightgown and entered the hallway. A voice could be heard coming from her granddaughter"s bedroom. She stopped at the doorway and leaned on the frame.

Must have been a dream I don"t remember.Four-year-old Sydney sat on the floor with her tea set spread in front of her. “Would you like some sugar in your tea?”

Elizabeth smiled. Sydney had an imaginary friend. Elizabeth wasn"t worried about it. A lot of children have them, especially when they have no siblings and live rural without other kids to play with. It"s just a part of her development. Frank, her husband, on the other hand, thought it was weird and believed Sydney had issues. An opinionated man who once he held a belief could not be shifted, she was tired of arguing the point. Elizabeth sighed.

It"s just a part of her development.Sydney looked up. “Hi Nana, my friend, Candy, is having tea with me.”

“Good morning, hon. Say hi to her for me.”

“She"s not very happy today. She looks very sad.”

“I"m sorry to hear that. Maybe your tea party will cheer her up. What would you like for breakfast this morning?”

Sydney looked at her invisible friend. “Hmm…what should I eat today? What about pancakes?” She looked at her Nana. “Yup, Candy is smiling.”

“Pancakes it is after I have my coffee. I"ll call up when it"s ready.”

Elizabeth descended the stairs and went into the kitchen. The aroma of a full pot of coffee beckoned. She poured herself a cup and looked out the back window towards the barn and equipment building. Both doors were closed. Frank"s probably out for his walk. Elizabeth padded to the front door to claim the swing and enjoy her coffee on this beautiful warm morning.

Frank"s probably out for his walk.She stepped onto the verandah and came to a cold stop. With a sharp intake of breath, her free hand flew to her chest and she gasped “Omigod…” The full cup of coffee in the other hand hit the floor. Splintered shards of porcelain scattered across the porch while hot coffee splashed up over her white floppy slippers.

“Omigod…” she gasped.

Frank lay face down on the wooden floor. Elizabeth kneeled beside him. “Frank? Frank…” She shook his shoulder. No response. She tried to push him over onto his back but only managed to get him half on his side. Frank"s eyes stared back at her, glazed and lifeless. Her hands covered her mouth. “No, no,” she whispered. Elizabeth put her fingers to his neck. No pulse. Her hand moved to his chest. No heartbeat. His body was feeling cold to the touch. How long has he been laying here? Elizabeth knew he was dead. There was nothing she or anyone else could do for her husband. A state of shock froze her body to the spot.

No pulseNo heartbeat.How long has he been laying here?She had no idea how long she kneeled there staring at her deceased husband. She stood and went inside. After making a call to the police, Elizabeth called her friend and neighbour, Carol.

Five minutes later, Carol walked Sydney out the backdoor on an adventure through the meadows, to end at Carol"s house for pancakes.

Elizabeth returned to the porch and swept up the broken cup pieces. She placed a pillow under Frank"s head and covered him with a blanket. He appeared to be sleeping. A silly gesture to be sure, yet a comforting one. She sat on the porch swing. There were no hysterics, no tears. Only a numbing acceptance…and she waited.