| Family Fiction posted January 23, 2024 | Chapters: |
1 -2- 3... 
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Pages turn, Stories change, Bonds crumble
A chapter in the book Life's Twisted Road
Life's Twisted Road Chap. 2
by Begin Again
SUMMARY - Chap. 1
Confronted by her grandmother, a heated argument ensued, leaving the elderly woman unresponsive on the cold bedroom floor. Worried about her responsibility for Isabella's fall, sixteen-year-old Natasha, called 911 and followed with a call for reinforcements from her best friend, Becky. The lies began as the two girls spun a different version of actual events. As the paramedics carried an unconscious Isabella to the ambulance, Natasha felt confident no one suspected the fall to be anything but an accident.
CHAPTER 2 -
Surrounded by a sea of fluffy, white clouds, Isabella felt a sense of tranquility. The sound of gentle waves splashing against the shore and a gentle breeze carrying a faint smell of salty air reminded her of James and all the love they shared in their happy place.
Somewhere in the distance, a song drifted amongst the clouds. The choir's sweet words floated until they reached Isabella's ears. Their melodious sound flooded her thoughts with memories of days gone by; wonderful days of singing in the church choir and praising the Lord. Days filled with joy and family gatherings.
Isabella hesitated, forgetting about her destination. She recognized the song and spontaneously, her chest swelled, and the verse rippled off her lips. "What a friend we have in Jesus."
"Oh!" Surprised by her outburst, Isabella pressed her hand across her mouth. Her soft gray-green eyes darted back toward the direction she'd come and then all around her. All she could see were cotton-ball puffs of white clouds floating everywhere. There was neither a choir nor a pathway, or anything else, for that matter. The only thing visible was a massive glossy-white door with the brightest glass window she'd ever seen. It glittered like precious diamonds speckled with dazzling glints of gold.
Isabella did not recognize this glorious spot or how she came to be there. An orchestra of harps strummed softly in the distance before fading away.
"Is this a dream?" Isabella slowly twirled around, unable to see anything but the glowing light she stood in. Its brilliant glow was brighter than any other light she'd experienced, yet it didn't blind her eyes. She rubbed her thin hands against her hips and down her legs. The lack of throbbing arthritis pain and stiffness amazed her. "What's happening to me?" Clasping her hands together, she whispered, "Dear Lord, have I lost my mind?"
A soft, reassuring voice answered, "We welcome you, Isabella. Your answers lie beyond the door. Peter is waiting."
Isabella sensed the person's presence but could see no one. Unsure of what was happening, she felt a slight tremble in her legs. "Peter? Do I know this man? What does he want from me?"
"Like all the shepherd's lambs, you are safe." The voice paused for a moment. "It's time, Isabella. Open the door."
She couldn't explain it, but she felt calm again. Her destination lay beyond the door, and it was time.
She edged closer to the door and wrapped her fingers around the gold doorknob. Inhaling sharply, she tugged, and to her astonishment; it swung open, revealing the most impressive sea of vibrant flowers, offering a rainbow of colors and a bouquet of fragrances. Butterflies performed their delicate dance amidst the blossoms. Birds of every color and size perched among the flowering branches. A soft sigh escaped Isabella's lips as a cocoon of calmness enveloped her.
As if appearing from nowhere, a tall man dressed in a crisp, white robe stepped forward into Isabella's view. The perfect accessory, his long, well-groomed beard, complemented his attire. His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and his warm smile welcomed her. His voice offered comfort like a cozy, soft blanket on a chilly night.
"Relax, Isabella. The Lord is with us today. Trust in him and you will find your way."
"Are—you—Peter?" Her timidness unsettled her. During her entire lifetime, her firm voice never hesitated to express her thoughts or opinions. Yet, here in this glorious garden, talking to a man resembling a priest, she felt shy, almost intimidated.
He nodded, waiting for her to continue.
With a glance around the room, Isabella bowed her head. Her voice was a mere whisper when she spoke again. "I'm—" She cleared her throat. "I'm not worthy. I'm a weary old woman who has walked the winding road of life, failing so many times."
Peter shook his head. His words were gentle, the opposite of any reprimand she might have expected she deserved. "My dear woman, you opened your arms to everyone and offered love in so many ways. Why do you question who you are?"
"I have disappointed so many throughout my life. I failed—?""
Peter scooped Isabella’s work-worn hands into his own and smiled. “Hush, my child. You tried your best. No one is perfect. Unfortunately, others were often blind to the love you offered. It was not you who failed.”
“Forgive me, but you don’t understand. I turned my back on people, the ones I loved.”
“Did you?” He turned toward an altar filled with magnificent candles of every shape and size. Each flame flickering like a golden star. He gently opened the cover of a massive leather book. The cream-colored parchment pages, weathered by time, contained hand-written notes. Turning the sheets of paper one by one, he read the words written there. Lifting his gaze from the book, he looked into Isabella’s eyes. “Despite the many hardships and your missteps, your heart was always in the right place on the road you traveled. You are in the house of the Lord. He has opened his arms to you. Do you doubt his wisdom?”
She gasped, "Oh no! Never! It's just —"
Peter reached into his pocket and removed a small gold cross. Raising it to his mouth, he brushed his lips against it before placing it in her hand. "Walk with our Savior."
"Gladly," she said, though a bit puzzled. Then, she added, "But I what —"
"You have unfinished business to attend to, Isabella." He patted her hand. "Trust your heart and it will soon become clear to you."
Before she could utter another word, Peter was gone. In the blink of an eye, she, too, vanished from the garden, which was more overwhelming than his disappearance.
******************
"Oh, Lord in Heaven, what's happening?" Wide-eyed, Isabella surveyed the familiar attic bedroom. She had no explanation for how she'd moved from the luscious garden to her family home, more specifically, her bedroom. The room where she had spent a lifetime.
With a furrowed brow, Isabella's leathered face studied the rumbled four-poster bed. A chill snaked up her spine as she remembered the last time she'd stood in this very spot. It felt like an eternity ago, yet, in reality, it was only moments. A salty tear crept from the corner of her eye and maneuvered through a lifetime of living etched on her cheeks. Her wrinkled fingers brushed it away.
It wasn't a pleasant memory. Vicious, bitter words had exploded from sixteen-year-old Natasha's mouth, shattering her grandmother's heart. Words that changed their lives. Isabella shuddered. She didn't want to revisit those moments.
The pale moonlight filtering through the lace curtains highlighted the wisps of silver-gray hair that fell across her face. She moved toward the window. The soles of her shoes crunched against the broken glass scattered across the floor. She bent and picked up the picture, still connected to the twisted frame. She couldn't stop her fingers from touching the faces that smiled back at her. A much happier time. A photo capturing her wedding day, a time filled with love and a world of great expectations.
Pressing the precious picture against her chest, she pushed the curtains aside and stared out across the lush fields below. She loved this land and the home where she'd grown into a woman, married James - the man of her dreams, and worked side by side while they raised their children and grandchildren. There were difficult times, too. Painful ones filled with grief, but together they struggled until they came out on the other side as one. Times changed. People changed, too. Respect and common courtesy weren't as important to the upcoming generation. Despite her efforts, she couldn't prevent the family bonds from crumbling.
Isabella set the picture on the dresser and folded her hands together like she'd done so many times during her life. Staring at the sky, she spoke, "Oh, Father in Heaven, why did all that happiness slip away after James passed away? Was he the glue that held us together as a family?"
Once again, focusing on the vast sea of stars outside the window, she prayed, "Forgive me, Father. I let everyone down. My love for them wasn't enough to keep us together. I tried, but it wasn't enough."
As a lonely tear trickled across her face, Isabella unconsciously searched her pocket for a tissue. A small, metallic piece escaped her pocket as she pulled out the tissue, dropping to the floor. Her eyes caught sight of it, and she knelt to retrieve it. She stared at the cross lying in her palm. A vision of Peter in the garden flashed through her mind, bringing her back to the present and Peter's last words.
"Peter said I had unfinished business, but what am I expected to do?" She stood quietly in the warm familiar room, breathing in the love she'd share within these four walls. "I guess the answer lies with my granddaughter." Swallowing hard, Isabella returned the cross to her pocket, and with every ounce of courage she could muster, crossed the room and stepped into the dimly lit hall, in search of Natasha.
SUMMARY - Chap. 1
Confronted by her grandmother, a heated argument ensued, leaving the elderly woman unresponsive on the cold bedroom floor. Worried about her responsibility for Isabella's fall, sixteen-year-old Natasha, called 911 and followed with a call for reinforcements from her best friend, Becky. The lies began as the two girls spun a different version of actual events. As the paramedics carried an unconscious Isabella to the ambulance, Natasha felt confident no one suspected the fall to be anything but an accident.
CHAPTER 2 -
Surrounded by a sea of fluffy, white clouds, Isabella felt a sense of tranquility. The sound of gentle waves splashing against the shore and a gentle breeze carrying a faint smell of salty air reminded her of James and all the love they shared in their happy place.
Somewhere in the distance, a song drifted amongst the clouds. The choir's sweet words floated until they reached Isabella's ears. Their melodious sound flooded her thoughts with memories of days gone by; wonderful days of singing in the church choir and praising the Lord. Days filled with joy and family gatherings.
Isabella hesitated, forgetting about her destination. She recognized the song and spontaneously, her chest swelled, and the verse rippled off her lips. "What a friend we have in Jesus."
"Oh!" Surprised by her outburst, Isabella pressed her hand across her mouth. Her soft gray-green eyes darted back toward the direction she'd come and then all around her. All she could see were cotton-ball puffs of white clouds floating everywhere. There was neither a choir nor a pathway, or anything else, for that matter. The only thing visible was a massive glossy-white door with the brightest glass window she'd ever seen. It glittered like precious diamonds speckled with dazzling glints of gold.
Isabella did not recognize this glorious spot or how she came to be there. An orchestra of harps strummed softly in the distance before fading away.
"Is this a dream?" Isabella slowly twirled around, unable to see anything but the glowing light she stood in. Its brilliant glow was brighter than any other light she'd experienced, yet it didn't blind her eyes. She rubbed her thin hands against her hips and down her legs. The lack of throbbing arthritis pain and stiffness amazed her. "What's happening to me?" Clasping her hands together, she whispered, "Dear Lord, have I lost my mind?"
A soft, reassuring voice answered, "We welcome you, Isabella. Your answers lie beyond the door. Peter is waiting."
Isabella sensed the person's presence but could see no one. Unsure of what was happening, she felt a slight tremble in her legs. "Peter? Do I know this man? What does he want from me?"
"Like all the shepherd's lambs, you are safe." The voice paused for a moment. "It's time, Isabella. Open the door."
She couldn't explain it, but she felt calm again. Her destination lay beyond the door, and it was time.
She edged closer to the door and wrapped her fingers around the gold doorknob. Inhaling sharply, she tugged, and to her astonishment; it swung open, revealing the most impressive sea of vibrant flowers, offering a rainbow of colors and a bouquet of fragrances. Butterflies performed their delicate dance amidst the blossoms. Birds of every color and size perched among the flowering branches. A soft sigh escaped Isabella's lips as a cocoon of calmness enveloped her.
As if appearing from nowhere, a tall man dressed in a crisp, white robe stepped forward into Isabella's view. The perfect accessory, his long, well-groomed beard, complemented his attire. His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and his warm smile welcomed her. His voice offered comfort like a cozy, soft blanket on a chilly night.
"Relax, Isabella. The Lord is with us today. Trust in him and you will find your way."
"Are—you—Peter?" Her timidness unsettled her. During her entire lifetime, her firm voice never hesitated to express her thoughts or opinions. Yet, here in this glorious garden, talking to a man resembling a priest, she felt shy, almost intimidated.
He nodded, waiting for her to continue.
With a glance around the room, Isabella bowed her head. Her voice was a mere whisper when she spoke again. "I'm—" She cleared her throat. "I'm not worthy. I'm a weary old woman who has walked the winding road of life, failing so many times."
Peter shook his head. His words were gentle, the opposite of any reprimand she might have expected she deserved. "My dear woman, you opened your arms to everyone and offered love in so many ways. Why do you question who you are?"
"I have disappointed so many throughout my life. I failed—?""
Confronted by her grandmother, a heated argument ensued, leaving the elderly woman unresponsive on the cold bedroom floor. Worried about her responsibility for Isabella's fall, sixteen-year-old Natasha, called 911 and followed with a call for reinforcements from her best friend, Becky. The lies began as the two girls spun a different version of actual events. As the paramedics carried an unconscious Isabella to the ambulance, Natasha felt confident no one suspected the fall to be anything but an accident.
CHAPTER 2 -
Surrounded by a sea of fluffy, white clouds, Isabella felt a sense of tranquility. The sound of gentle waves splashing against the shore and a gentle breeze carrying a faint smell of salty air reminded her of James and all the love they shared in their happy place.
Somewhere in the distance, a song drifted amongst the clouds. The choir's sweet words floated until they reached Isabella's ears. Their melodious sound flooded her thoughts with memories of days gone by; wonderful days of singing in the church choir and praising the Lord. Days filled with joy and family gatherings.
Isabella hesitated, forgetting about her destination. She recognized the song and spontaneously, her chest swelled, and the verse rippled off her lips. "What a friend we have in Jesus."
"Oh!" Surprised by her outburst, Isabella pressed her hand across her mouth. Her soft gray-green eyes darted back toward the direction she'd come and then all around her. All she could see were cotton-ball puffs of white clouds floating everywhere. There was neither a choir nor a pathway, or anything else, for that matter. The only thing visible was a massive glossy-white door with the brightest glass window she'd ever seen. It glittered like precious diamonds speckled with dazzling glints of gold.
Isabella did not recognize this glorious spot or how she came to be there. An orchestra of harps strummed softly in the distance before fading away.
"Is this a dream?" Isabella slowly twirled around, unable to see anything but the glowing light she stood in. Its brilliant glow was brighter than any other light she'd experienced, yet it didn't blind her eyes. She rubbed her thin hands against her hips and down her legs. The lack of throbbing arthritis pain and stiffness amazed her. "What's happening to me?" Clasping her hands together, she whispered, "Dear Lord, have I lost my mind?"
A soft, reassuring voice answered, "We welcome you, Isabella. Your answers lie beyond the door. Peter is waiting."
Isabella sensed the person's presence but could see no one. Unsure of what was happening, she felt a slight tremble in her legs. "Peter? Do I know this man? What does he want from me?"
"Like all the shepherd's lambs, you are safe." The voice paused for a moment. "It's time, Isabella. Open the door."
She couldn't explain it, but she felt calm again. Her destination lay beyond the door, and it was time.
She edged closer to the door and wrapped her fingers around the gold doorknob. Inhaling sharply, she tugged, and to her astonishment; it swung open, revealing the most impressive sea of vibrant flowers, offering a rainbow of colors and a bouquet of fragrances. Butterflies performed their delicate dance amidst the blossoms. Birds of every color and size perched among the flowering branches. A soft sigh escaped Isabella's lips as a cocoon of calmness enveloped her.
As if appearing from nowhere, a tall man dressed in a crisp, white robe stepped forward into Isabella's view. The perfect accessory, his long, well-groomed beard, complemented his attire. His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and his warm smile welcomed her. His voice offered comfort like a cozy, soft blanket on a chilly night.
"Relax, Isabella. The Lord is with us today. Trust in him and you will find your way."
"Are—you—Peter?" Her timidness unsettled her. During her entire lifetime, her firm voice never hesitated to express her thoughts or opinions. Yet, here in this glorious garden, talking to a man resembling a priest, she felt shy, almost intimidated.
He nodded, waiting for her to continue.
With a glance around the room, Isabella bowed her head. Her voice was a mere whisper when she spoke again. "I'm—" She cleared her throat. "I'm not worthy. I'm a weary old woman who has walked the winding road of life, failing so many times."
Peter shook his head. His words were gentle, the opposite of any reprimand she might have expected she deserved. "My dear woman, you opened your arms to everyone and offered love in so many ways. Why do you question who you are?"
"I have disappointed so many throughout my life. I failed—?""
Peter scooped Isabella’s work-worn hands into his own and smiled. “Hush, my child. You tried your best. No one is perfect. Unfortunately, others were often blind to the love you offered. It was not you who failed.”
“Forgive me, but you don’t understand. I turned my back on people, the ones I loved.”
“Did you?” He turned toward an altar filled with magnificent candles of every shape and size. Each flame flickering like a golden star. He gently opened the cover of a massive leather book. The cream-colored parchment pages, weathered by time, contained hand-written notes. Turning the sheets of paper one by one, he read the words written there. Lifting his gaze from the book, he looked into Isabella’s eyes. “Despite the many hardships and your missteps, your heart was always in the right place on the road you traveled. You are in the house of the Lord. He has opened his arms to you. Do you doubt his wisdom?”
She gasped, "Oh no! Never! It's just —"Peter reached into his pocket and removed a small gold cross. Raising it to his mouth, he brushed his lips against it before placing it in her hand. "Walk with our Savior."
"Gladly," she said, though a bit puzzled. Then, she added, "But I what —"
"You have unfinished business to attend to, Isabella." He patted her hand. "Trust your heart and it will soon become clear to you."
Before she could utter another word, Peter was gone. In the blink of an eye, she, too, vanished from the garden, which was more overwhelming than his disappearance.
******************
"Oh, Lord in Heaven, what's happening?" Wide-eyed, Isabella surveyed the familiar attic bedroom. She had no explanation for how she'd moved from the luscious garden to her family home, more specifically, her bedroom. The room where she had spent a lifetime.
With a furrowed brow, Isabella's leathered face studied the rumbled four-poster bed. A chill snaked up her spine as she remembered the last time she'd stood in this very spot. It felt like an eternity ago, yet, in reality, it was only moments. A salty tear crept from the corner of her eye and maneuvered through a lifetime of living etched on her cheeks. Her wrinkled fingers brushed it away.
It wasn't a pleasant memory. Vicious, bitter words had exploded from sixteen-year-old Natasha's mouth, shattering her grandmother's heart. Words that changed their lives. Isabella shuddered. She didn't want to revisit those moments.
The pale moonlight filtering through the lace curtains highlighted the wisps of silver-gray hair that fell across her face. She moved toward the window. The soles of her shoes crunched against the broken glass scattered across the floor. She bent and picked up the picture, still connected to the twisted frame. She couldn't stop her fingers from touching the faces that smiled back at her. A much happier time. A photo capturing her wedding day, a time filled with love and a world of great expectations.
Pressing the precious picture against her chest, she pushed the curtains aside and stared out across the lush fields below. She loved this land and the home where she'd grown into a woman, married James - the man of her dreams, and worked side by side while they raised their children and grandchildren. There were difficult times, too. Painful ones filled with grief, but together they struggled until they came out on the other side as one. Times changed. People changed, too. Respect and common courtesy weren't as important to the upcoming generation. Despite her efforts, she couldn't prevent the family bonds from crumbling.
Isabella set the picture on the dresser and folded her hands together like she'd done so many times during her life. Staring at the sky, she spoke, "Oh, Father in Heaven, why did all that happiness slip away after James passed away? Was he the glue that held us together as a family?"
Once again, focusing on the vast sea of stars outside the window, she prayed, "Forgive me, Father. I let everyone down. My love for them wasn't enough to keep us together. I tried, but it wasn't enough."
As a lonely tear trickled across her face, Isabella unconsciously searched her pocket for a tissue. A small, metallic piece escaped her pocket as she pulled out the tissue, dropping to the floor. Her eyes caught sight of it, and she knelt to retrieve it. She stared at the cross lying in her palm. A vision of Peter in the garden flashed through her mind, bringing her back to the present and Peter's last words.
"Peter said I had unfinished business, but what am I expected to do?" She stood quietly in the warm familiar room, breathing in the love she'd share within these four walls. "I guess the answer lies with my granddaughter." Swallowing hard, Isabella returned the cross to her pocket, and with every ounce of courage she could muster, crossed the room and stepped into the dimly lit hall, in search of Natasha.
 Recognized |
CHARACTERS:
Isabella Mancuso -- Family Matriarch, Natasha's grandmother
Natasha Stanton -- defiant sixteen-year-old granddaughter
Becky Caldwell -- Natasha's best friend and partner in crime
Jeremy -- Becky's current boy-toy
Marie Stanton -- Isabella's daughter, Natasha's mother
Officer Lakewood -- official responding to 911 call
Peter - the calming voice of reason
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Isabella Mancuso -- Family Matriarch, Natasha's grandmother
Natasha Stanton -- defiant sixteen-year-old granddaughter
Becky Caldwell -- Natasha's best friend and partner in crime
Jeremy -- Becky's current boy-toy
Marie Stanton -- Isabella's daughter, Natasha's mother
Officer Lakewood -- official responding to 911 call
Peter - the calming voice of reason
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