Fractured Time

A giggle drifts in the wind as her chestnut hair flows around her. She left her hat inside, running out into the white expanse.

"Maddie! Wait up!"

But she continues to run, laughing as she shrinks into the distance. She spins and twirls, her loose coat flapping carelessly. It is below freezing, but she doesn't seem to mind. One of her pink mittens drops into the snow.

"You dropped your mitten!"

Reaching for the mitten, a shriek pierces the air. She disappears into a dark hole, one that opens and swallows her like a dormant monster lying in wait.

"Maddie!"

-

"Marcie! Marcie, can you hear me? Wake up! Marceline!"

A firm hand on her shoulder rips Marcie from the past. Her heart pounds in her ears and her body shivers, her skin coated in a cold sweat. The pale moonlight reveals the shadows of worry on Wes's face, but Marcie's muscles soften, and her breathing slows at the sight of her husband above her. She unclenches her fists, releasing the bedsheets from her clammy palms, and inhales as Wes pushes a plastered strand of brown hair from her cheek.

Marcie turns her head and meets Wes's hazel eyes. The golden flecks in his irises glimmer, even in the low light. She swallows without saying a word. Wes presses his lips into a thin line. After twelve years of sharing a bed, there is no need for further explanation. He's accustomed to Maddie's name puncturing the night, his wife thrashing beside him as she's thrown back into a memory that has haunted her for decades.

Wes slowly lowers himself onto his side and pulls Marcie against his bare chest. Marcie closes her eyes, focusing on Wes's heartbeat. His rhythm starts out as a strong drumming, but quickly subsides into a gentle thumping, shepherding her own heart back to a comfortable place. Within minutes, their hearts beat in unison. Marcie falls asleep enveloped by her husband's warmth rather than encased by her past's frigid hold.

-

The clattering of dishes brings Marcie out of her sleep the next morning. Her head is a weighted prop as she lifts herself. She groans and then blinks, shocked at the numbers on the clock.

9:27

Marcie throws the comforter aside and pulls her sweatshirt over her head. Brushing her long dark hair in the mirror, Marcie wonders if she and Maddie would still look so much alike, even thirty years later. She stares at her blue eyes and tries not to think of the bluish pallor of Maddie's skin when they had pulled her from the lake all those years ago.

Marcie shuffles downstairs and squints against the blinding light reflecting off a fresh layer of snow. The sun hangs low in the mid-winter sky, but still manages to find its strength. She stands at the threshold of the kitchen, watching Wes empty the dishwasher. Her eyes wander to the kitchen table where six-year-old Brayden sits cross-legged on his chair, a brown crayon in his tiny hand as he concentrates on his newest masterpiece. The scraping of Marcie's slippers on the linoleum breaks Brayden's focus, a toothy grin spreads across his face.

"You were a sleepyhead this morning, Mom!"

At Brayden's exclamation, Wes turns as Marcie ruffles Brayden's golden hair and plants a kiss on the top of his head.

Thank you, she mouths to Wes, and he replies with a smile.

"We had a boys only breakfast," Brayden says, his honey brown eyes shining up at his mother. Marcie cherishes Brayden's likeness to his father, grateful that her own features are more subdued.

"Oh really? What was for breakfast?" Marcie asks.

"It's a secret!"

Brayden catches Wes's gaze and Wes winks. Wes looks at Marcie and shrugs. "Boys only."

"I guess I'm on my own then," Marcie says, surveying the evidence on the counter surrounding the stove. The griddle pan, spatters of batter, and rogue chocolate chips dotting the white marble close the case.

Brayden returns to his drawing as Marcie grabs a bowl from the cabinet next to the fridge. She slides the box of honey nut Cheerios out from the corner of the counter as Wes leans over and whispers in her ear.

"You know, I could make an exception and make you the secret breakfast."

He kisses her on the temple, and she smiles. "Thank you, but I'll go with the simple girls only breakfast today."

On cue, Winnie trots into the kitchen, her paws tapping happily across the floor. She sits at Marcie's side as Marcie pours the Cheerios into her bowl. Marcie pulls the milk from the fridge and Winnie whines impatiently.

Marcie sighs. "Well, I did say girls only breakfast, didn't I?"

She adds some Cheerios to Winnie's bowl and pats her fluffy copper head. Winnie's tufted tail swishes back and forth as she inhales the cereal.

As Marcie splashes milk into her own bowl, the calendar posted on the side of the fridge taunts her. She doesn't need to look to know what tomorrow marks. She sets the milk down and closes her eyes, focusing on the steady inhale and exhale of her breath. The subtle creep of a migraine begins to permeate the hollows behind her eyes. Marcie grips the edge of the counter, willing the pain to dissipate.

Marcie flinches at the gentle touch of Wes's palm against the small of her back. The heat of his skin burns through the thick fleece fabric of her sweatshirt.

"Everything okay?"

She nods slightly and takes a deep breath. "I think it's just a migraine."

"Take it easy today. I'll keep Brayden entertained," Wes says as he rubs her back.

"I love you," Marcie whispers.

"I love you, too." He squeezes her shoulder and adds, "Take your meds and rest."

Wes leaves her standing at the counter, and she stares down at her soggy cereal. She plays with her Cheerios, submerging them with her spoon until they pop back up to the surface. Sometimes she feels like one of the Cheerios, only she can't always find her way back up.

Marcie shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the heavy thoughts that weigh her down. She reaches for her pill bottle in the cabinet above her and swallows her medication, hoping it will give her some relief.

She brings her bowl to the kitchen table where Brayden draws a pink crayon across the page in front of him. Marcie settles into her seat facing Brayden and raises her eyebrows.

"Pink, huh?" Marcie questions. "That's a new color for you. Are you expanding your palette?"

Without looking up, Brayden shrugs. "It's the color of the girl's jacket."

"What girl, sweetie?"

"The girl I see outside sometimes."

"A girl from school?" Marcie asks as she continues to eat her cereal.

"No," Brayden says. "Sometimes I see her outside in the backyard, by the lake." He pauses his coloring and points out the bay window facing the frozen, snow-covered lake.

Marcie's heart leaps into her throat and her spoon drops into her bowl. She slowly shifts her gaze to Brayden's drawing, taking a closer look. Marcie's heart rate spikes as her eyes land on a little girl with brown hair and a pink jacket in a snowy scene. The blood drains from her face and she suddenly feels lightheaded.

"Mom, are you okay? What's wrong?" Brayden's eyes are wide with concern.

Marcie staggers as she stands, scuffing her chair against the floor. Wes rushes over to steady her.

"Hey, what's going on?"

A throbbing in her forehead jumbles her thoughts as she tries to speak. "I... I just need to lie down."

The brightness of the sun becomes overwhelming and colors swirl in front of Marcie. Wes leads her to the couch and her vision darkens around the edges as the cushions cradle her weak muscles. Wes's voice barely registers in her mind as she falls into suspended consciousness.

-

A child's squeal of excitement wafts through the air as snow flurries glimmer against a soft gray sky. In the distance, a boy chases a blur of pink. His small body gallops through the powdery snow, his feet landing on fragile ground.

"Brayden!"

But the wind howls, and the snow quickly becomes an opaque cloak, hiding another world.

-

Marcie bolts upright, her chest heaving. She jumps from the couch and runs to the door leading to the backyard.

Brayden.

The cold sears her lungs, her breath crystallizing in front of her as she steps out into the yard. She yells for her son.

"Brayden!"

Her limbs and her chest burn with urgency as she stumbles through the drifts. She can't find Brayden's tiny footprints in the blowing snow. Marcie pushes forward, shielding her eyes from the blinding sheet of white as snow freezes to her eyelashes. A gust unsteadies her, but she holds herself upright.

Through ladened eyelids, a burst of color breaks through the white. The wind reveals a hidden tether to another moment. Marcie's heart vitrifies, threatening to shatter in the bitter cold. As she reaches for the small pink object, the wind tugs it free, pulling it further, taunting Marcie in its game of deception. She follows, grabbing at it with numbed fingers, but it disappears in the squall ahead. Her heavy feet trip, pitching her forward onto her knees. In a whirl of white, she can only see a glimpse of pink a few feet ahead. As she summons her strength to stand, a sudden shift seizes her muscles. Her body recognizes her mistake.

The wind whips and the snow dances in front of her, unveiling another world. A world so delicate, so precious, one she has tried to protect all these years. But now it fractures beneath her.

Her hot breath escapes in desperate puffs as she remains paralyzed, unknowingly accepting her fate. The crack and crunch beneath her give way to a dark abyss, a crushing weight so great the air is sucked from her lungs. Marcie kicks and flails, but her limbs refuse.

One last glance towards the white, a spot of pink, one that could never be reached. As Marcie closes her eyes, a feeble voice echoes from the depths.

Let go.

And she is ready. She is ready to let go, to give in to the unrelenting wrench of guilt, to free herself of the shackles of grief. It has been too long, and she is ready.

But as Marcie begins to drift into the undercurrent, an abrupt force draws her upwards. Her skin ignites in the wind, assaulted by the onslaught of ice. Winnie's yelps circle around her as her body is jostled and carried toward a faint glowing light. She struggles to keep her eyes open as she remains rigid but moving.

"Marcie! Oh God, please...Stay with me, Marcie...please."

Wes's voice is muffled and distant, but his body scorches her through her frostbitten clothing, shocking her senses with burst of adrenaline. Suddenly, they are inside, the warmth of the living room falling over her like a thick and suffocating blanket. Marcie's muscles shiver and twitch, her lips trembling, every fiber of her being resonating at an unfathomable frequency.

"Mom! Mommy!"

Brayden's frantic cries pierce the haze as she is flown to the bathroom, but words fail to formulate in her mouth. Wes places her onto the tile floor and tears at her sodden shirt. Marcie barely feels the fabric as it's peeled from her numb skin. Panting, Wes removes the rest of her clothing in a fury, orchestrating her stiff limbs like a puppet master as she watches, stunned into compliance.

When his hands fall on her underwear, Wes stops and turns to Brayden who is standing in the doorway, his eyes swollen and wet with tears.

Wes swallows and calms himself before addressing Brayden. "Brayden, buddy, can you...can you go upstairs and grab the heaviest clothes from Mom's closet? A sweatshirt, sweatpants, socks, anything you can find."

Brayden stands frozen for a moment, his eyes wide as he stares at Marcie's pale face.

"Okay, buddy?"

He blinks and nods quickly before sprinting down the hallway, a blur of white and brown fur on his heels.

"Marcie? Can you hear me?"

Wes takes her face between his hands and his palms ignite her cheeks. Marcie's eyelids flutter, but she recognizes the panic in his eyes. Her teeth chatter as she mumbles.

"I...I..."

A single tear escapes and falls to the edge of Wes's jaw. "Shh, it's okay. You'll be alright," he reassures her, pushing her cold hair behind her ear. His lips send a ripple of warmth across her forehead.

Wes strips Marcie of her icy layer until only her bare skin remains. He pulls a bath towel from the rack on the wall and wraps her in a cocoon. Wes holds her tight against his chest, both of their bodies huddled together on the bathroom floor. Marcie's body still shakes violently as she tries to focus on taking steady breaths.

Brayden stumbles into the bathroom carrying a pile of clothing. Wes releases Marcie and takes the clothes from Brayden.

"This is great, bud. Can you get all the blankets together in the living room?"

This time, without hesitation, Brayden runs to the living room. Wes throws the towel aside and dresses Marcie like a doll, her body still torpid and her senses still muted. He lifts her rigid body and brings her into the living room, placing her on the carpet in front of the crackling fire. In a daze, Marcie watches Wes and Brayden cover her with a mountain of blankets. The warmth begins to thaw Marcie as her family surrounds her.

Winnie trots over, her snout dusted with fresh snow and a pink prize clutched between her teeth.

Wes offers his hand as his eyebrows knit together. "Winnie, what do you have there, girl?"

Winnie whines and drops the pink garment in Marcie's lap.

A child's pink mitten.