People say that dreams are your brain’s normal way of processing events in your life and making sense of an irrational and confusing array of stimulation throughout the day. I have dreams that work their way into the fabric of my subconscious making my waking hours sometimes more confusing than when I sleep. They hound me and instill a sense of disconnectedness from my daily life.

“Earth to Luke. Have you listened at all to what I’ve been telling you?”

I had one of those dreams last night and my mind was still unpacking it all. In my dream I was young. Very young. Two huge, bright objects poured their light through a white stone-trimmed archway. A handsome man and a beautiful woman came over to me and picked me up. They smoothed my long brunette hair and kissed my forehead. It all felt so real.

“I’m listening, Samantha. You were telling me about the red high heels you and Emily found at the mall.”

“Yes! Oh my God, they were fantastic. We were walking by the ice cream shop when I looked over and there they…”

I’ve always had a unique ability to absorb what was going on around me without paying much attention to it. It’s not that I wasn’t interested in what Samantha had to say, but after having one of my otherworldly dreams, I tended to withdraw some.

“…calling to me. When I looked at the price, I almost passed out…”

“Samantha, I’m sorry to interrupt. I’ve got to get to class.”

“We’re still on for tonight?”

“It’s mom’s birthday. I’m taking her out to dinner. I mentioned that to you earlier this week.”

Samantha pouted, and my heart went out to her. We had been dating for a year and sometimes I wasn’t quite sure what she expected of me. In many ways I felt trapped. Trapped in a relationship that everyone, including my mom, said was the greatest thing and that Samantha was a real catch. Trapped working my way through medical school to go to work as a doctor for the rest of my life. For some reason I just felt like this was the wrong career for me. Finally, I felt trapped in the culture and expected norms of society. None of it felt right to me, but maybe it was just me.

***

“Happy birthday, mom.” I held up a glass of red wine and she reciprocated with hers. “Is there anything you want for your birthday?”

“I want for nothing. Ever since you came into our lives almost twenty years ago, I couldn’t have been more blessed.”

“I wish dad were still with us.”

“He would have been so proud of the handsome, intelligent, young man that you’ve become. It hasn’t been easy since he went to be with the Lord, but I know it was all God’s will just as I know God has a plan for your life.”

“I had another dream last night.”

“It’s possible these dreams are actual memories from before you were found. You were old enough to have some memories from your early childhood.”

“How can they be? I’m always a young girl in them, and the landscape is nothing like anything here. It’s all so vivid and real even though none of it makes sense.”

“Then it could be demonic. I could have the church pray for you.”

“Mom, please don’t start. There’s nothing insidious about them. I shouldn’t have brought it up. This is your birthday.”

“The best gift you could ever give me is for you to be happy. It’s upsetting that these dreams bother you so much. Have you thought more about your future with Samantha?”

“She’s a beautiful woman, but I’m just not sure. Sometimes I think she cares more about things than me.”

“I’ve seen you struggle in your relationships, Luke. You’ll know when God puts the right one in your path.”

“Was it that way with you and dad?”

“Yes. We both met at a church missions festival and knew we were meant for each other. Just think, if we hadn’t married and gone to Peru to be missionaries, we would have never been able to adopt you. It all worked out for good.”

“Except that dad got sick.”

“Hush. It’s hard to accept that bad things happen to good people, but it’s even harder to believe we can expect any goodness in this sin-filled world at all. Your father was an exceptionally good and kind man. Please don’t blame God that he was taken from us.”

“I’m sorry. It seems like everything I say today is coming out wrong. I will always be thankful you both adopted me. There have never been more caring and wonderful parents. You gave so much and sacrificed everything for me.”

Mom laughed. “You see it as a sacrifice, and yet I see you as a miracle. We could never have children and we prayed and prayed. Then, one day, someone said they found a four-year-old boy at the Gate of the Gods. They asked if we could take care of you. You were always the perfect child. You learned English in just a few months and were the most beautiful and inquisitive boy we have ever known. Now look at you, all grown up, handsome as the day is long, and will finish your medical school next year. I couldn’t be more proud.”

Mom reached out her hand and grabbed mine. She closed her eyes and I knew what was coming. “Dear Lord, please show Luke that you love him and that all things work for good. Help him know what the right path is. Open the right doors so that he can see the destiny you have for him. Remind him that love conquers all and that the darkness can never take him.”

I felt a gentle squeeze of my hand and I wiped a tear that had slipped of its own accord down my cheek. “Thanks for always being there for me, mom.”

She reached out with her other hand and held mine loosely. “There’s still time enough for you to meet up with Samantha. Thank you for a lovely birthday dinner. I love you, Luke.”

“Maybe we can go see a movie?”

“The ladies are having a prayer meeting tonight and I promised I’d be there. Let’s get together this weekend. I’m sure your tired of your own cooking.”

“For sure. I love your cooking. I’ll see you Saturday.”

I watched mom leave. I struggled with her faith, but I couldn’t deny how well she handled dad’s death. I was thirteen when we moved to the United States from Peru. Dad’s illness caused them to leave the mission they felt called to be at. A year later he passed away. I had ten years with the man I knew as my dad.

It’s not that I have outright rejected my parents’ beliefs, but I’ve struggled with the concept of a benevolent and kind god when bad things happen.

I sat another minute before standing to leave. It was at that moment a thunderous crash shook the restaurant. I took several quick steps towards the door then paused. My instincts told me it was mom, but I fought that idea. I paused only a second as my legs propelled me forward and out the restaurant door.

I rushed forward and stopped. Mom’s car was in pieces. The engine bay, what was left of it, was on fire. A large semi-truck was up on the sidewalk and had knocked over a street light not more than a hundred feet away.

I was running again and reached the car. The door had been sheered away by the impact with the truck. My medical training kicked into high gear and my hands pressed tightly against the open arterial wounds. I knew enough not to move her.

I cried as I looked upon the face of my mom; a face covered in blood and glass. Her graying hair was matted and plastered to her face.

She reached up with a bloody hand and cupped my cheek as my tears flowed freely. “My beautiful boy…”

“Don’t speak, mom. Help is coming.”

“I’m in… the Lord’s hands. I’m at peace…”

“Mom don’t speak like that. You’re going to be all right.”

“You… never could lie… well. Tell the ladies… I… won’t be coming…”

“Mom! No! You can’t leave me!”

“I’m going home… to be with… your dad… I’ll see you again… one day… I… love… you…”

Her body relaxed in my arms and I knew she was gone. I crushed her to my chest and wept.

***

“It’s been weeks, Luke. You need to get on with your life. You can still catch up with your classes.”

I sat in silence across the table from Samantha. Mom’s death had me questioning everything. Her church had reached out to me. They brought food, which I could barely eat, they cleaned, and they prayed. When the time came for the funeral, the church was filled beyond capacity. My parents had been well loved and respected in the community. People adored them. The people’s faith was moving, but it was their good and kind acts over the weeks that touched me deeply.

I reached over the table and squeezed Samantha’s hand. “I’ve got a few more things to wrap up yet.”

Samantha looked at me with a mix of empathy and frustration. “Call me.”

“I will.”

***

I looked up at the bank and then down to the small key in my hand. Mom and dad never had much. They had worked tirelessly helping the people of Peru for years and when dad got sick, the medical bills used all their savings. They had rented their home and like the people they had always been, gave of everything they had to anyone in need. It seemed incongruent that they had a safety deposit box.

Upon entering the bank, I looked around until I spotted a lady that might be able to help me.

“I’m here to retrieve the contents of my mom’s safety deposit box.”

“You must be Luke Williams. We received the paperwork from the lawyer’s office this morning. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me show you to the safe.”

We walked across the bank and through the heavy safe doors. The woman pointed out a box and I used the key to open it. Inside was another metal box that I slid out of the wall. I was then led to a small curtained room.

“Take your time.”

When the woman had left the room, I ran my fingers delicately over the metal box before opening it. Inside was a brown manila envelope. I didn’t know what I would expect to find but a plain envelope wasn’t something normally portrayed in the movies. I took the envelope out, left the room, and handed the box back to the lady.

I sat in my car and stared out the window a long time before driving home. When I got home, I waited a few minutes pondering the remnants of my life before reaching for the envelope. I emptied the contents onto the couch cushion next to me. There were five stacks of hundred-dollar bills, each stack amounting to two thousand dollars. I also discovered a handwritten letter and a necklace with a ring on it.

It wasn’t the money or the letter my fingers grasped first, but the necklace. I’d seen this before in my dreams. The metal beads were iridescent; not quite gold, but something similar with a slightly transparent look about it. The ring was far more impressive with ornate designs and a single large blue gemstone. I would call the gem a sapphire, but it was unique in its ability to refract light. That I’d seen it in my dreams felt somewhat validating, but it also generated many more questions.

My emotions had run high over the past weeks and I hesitated to bring even more to the surface by reading the letter. I did, however, pick it up and start to read. It was dated almost a year ago.

Luke, our beloved son. I write this to you on December 21, 2017, nineteen years to the day you were found and brought into our lives. I’ve thanked God for you every day of my life since. If you are reading this letter, then you know that I have gone to be with the Lord and with your dad. It was always my intention to give you this money and necklace when you graduated. Ten thousand dollars isn’t much, but we thought it would allow you to get a start in your life. I believe God will guide you in how you use it.

Even though we adopted you, we loved you as if you were our very own. To see you become such an honest, loving, young man, warms my heart. Sometimes, when I feel weak and miss your dad, I long for the days back in Peru when we were all together. Things were simpler there and I found much clarity for my thoughts.

I remember the day you were brought to us. Natives had found you at the carved opening of the Gate of the Gods. They recognized you weren’t native by the color of your skin, so they brought you to us. You were wearing the strangest clothing we had ever seen and around your neck was the necklace and ring. Obviously, this necklace belongs to you and maybe will help you find out more about yourself.

Now comes the hard part of the letter to write. I hope that when I left you I had the opportunity to tell you in person how much you meant to your dad and me. In case I didn’t get that chance, know that we loved you very much. You are the son any mother would have been proud of. You filled our lives with joy from the moment you came into our lives. You made us a family and I regret that I will not be there to hold your own children in my arms.

We will see you again for death is not the end.

I love you, Luke.

Holding back the tears was useless. The last person in my life that truly knew me, believed in me, and loved me, was gone. I fingered the ring and looked at the stack of money. I read and re-read the letter. What am I to do now?

I scanned the letter one more time and paused on one sentence. Glancing at the money, I picked up my phone.

***

Samantha sat across from me wearing a skintight red dress that accentuated her figure. Beauty was something Samantha certainly didn’t lack.

“A nice meal in a romantic restaurant… You’re up to something, Luke.”

Inwardly I winced as I held her gaze. I just need to get on with it. “I’m not going back to school this year. I’m taking some time off.”

“What? That will set you back an entire year.”

“I need clarity. Mom’s death has caused me to think about many things. I’m going to Peru for a few months.”

“Peru? Are you nuts? What about us?”

“It’s just for a few months, Samantha. I’ve got my whole life to live and I want to make sure I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Samantha slammed her napkin down on the table. “You’re not thinking clearly, Luke. That’s to be expected after losing your mom. We had a plan. You would finish medical school, become a doctor, and we would get married. I’m telling you now that you just need to get back to school and everything will work itself out.”

“When did we make those plans?”

“We’ve been dating for a year, Luke. What’s a girl to think?”

“I apologize if I’ve misled you in any way, Samantha. I like you very much and don’t see my travel plans as something that should interfere with our relationship. Haven’t you ever questioned what life is all about? Haven’t you ever stopped to wonder if you’re making a difference in this world?”

“You’re going to be a doctor. How much more can anyone do to make a difference? No! I don’t ask myself these things.”

“I do, Samantha. Maybe I’ll find some answers where things all started for me.”

“It sounds to me like you’re running away. Your crazy parents finally sucked you into their cult.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say, Samantha. My parents were good, compassionate people. They gave of themselves sacrificially to anyone that needed help. I’m not sure why you’re making such a big deal out of this. Come with me.”

Samantha’s face scrunched up. “You want me to go to Peru? Do they even have cell phone coverage there? I don’t think so. You’re throwing away everything!”

I put some cash on the table to cover the bill and tip and stood. “I’m sorry you don’t see this as something that will ultimately help me solidify my future. I’m not the one throwing anything away. Goodbye, Samantha.”

“Don’t you walk away from me! We had a plan!”

I took a deep breath when I exited the restaurant. Maybe this would all blow over, but Samantha showed little empathy. If I was honest with myself, I didn’t see a future with someone as shallow as she was. It could still be me and my letting my dreams influence my feelings in the wrong way, but either way, I felt peace and I left with a renewed urgency to get to Peru.

***

It took a week for me to organize myself, speak to the university, shut down my apartment, sell some unneeded items, pack, and arrange my trip. I spent the last night at a hotel near the airport. That’s when Samantha called me for the first time since the restaurant.

“I’m sorry, Luke. I said things I didn’t mean. I was just upset and felt you were leaving me.”

“I’m heading to the airport tomorrow, Samantha. I’m glad you realize you said things that were hurtful. I hope we can remain friends and when I return maybe we can start fresh.”

“There’s no need to start fresh. Come over now. Move in with me and we can put this whole thing behind us. I love you, Luke.”

The last few words sounded like a desperate plea. I cared for Samantha, but our week apart had allowed me time to see Samantha for who she was. “If you truly love me then you’ll be here when I get back. Maybe the time apart will make us both realize what is most important in our lives.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. Don’t expect me to wait for you. You could have had it all. We’re done.”

The line went dead and moments later her status changed on her Facebook account.

“I wish I could talk to you, mom.”

***

It was a beautiful day. Twin suns reflected their light across the shimmering lake as I ran gleefully across a flowering meadow. Millions of flowers of blue, violet, and pink hues waved in the gentle breeze. Suddenly I was tackled from behind. My long brunette hair came out of my golden chain that had bound it back and drifted before my eyes as I laughed and giggled.

“I’ve got you now, Aila.”

The ever-present watchful eyes of my guardians carefully assessed our actions but didn’t intervene when I rolled over to stare into the piercing blue eyes of a young, but slightly older boy.

“I let you catch me this time, Sharian.”

Sharian laughed and picked a violet flower and placed it into my hair. I felt a heated rush come to my face. The symbolism of his act was startling and unheard of.

Moments later I was lifted from the ground and separated from the boy.

***

I jolted awake as the plane hit some turbulence. I swore I could still smell the flowers from my dream. This wasn’t the first time I had seen the boy in my dreams, but it was the first time I heard anyone speak. I was called Aila and his name was Sharian.

“I take it you had quite the dream.”

I glanced to an elderly woman sitting next to me. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

She laughed. “You drooled all over my blouse and your snoring kept everyone awake.”

I could see it in her eyes that she was joking. “I’ve been told my snoring is like being immersed in a rose-petal infused bath while listening to Brahm’s Lullaby.”

That caused her to smile. “This is such a long boring flight. Where are you headed?”

“Near Lake Titicaca in Peru.”

“You’re adventuresome. What’s there for you?”

“I lived there for nine years. I thought it was time to go back for a while.”

“Are you single?”

I hope she wasn’t asking for herself.

She pulled out her phone. “I only ask as my daughter seems to be your age.”

“You’re trying to set me up with your daughter?”

“Arranged marriages are all the rage these days.”

“You just met me.”

“Any handsome guy that can talk about a rose-petal infused bath and Brahm’s Lullaby must have something going for him. I’m kidding, of course. Did you tell me if you were single?”

***

The conversation with the lady proved to be an excellent time killer and soon I was waiting to board the plane for my last leg of my journey to Juliaca near the shores of Lake Titicaca. The entire trip would be nearly twenty hours long. What little sleep I got was filled with strange and wonderful dreams. Each dream seemed to build upon the previous in terms of increasing my desire to come back to Peru.

My final flight felt short in comparison to the previous two. Stepping out of the airport at an altitude of over twelve thousand feet reminded me just how much I acclimated to far lower elevations. I recalled as a child never experiencing being out of breath while running around all day long. I couldn’t say that my fellow passengers were fairing nearly so well as I was.

I was very grateful to get into my room at the Taypikala Lago Hotel in Puno. I booked a room there for a week to allow myself to rest and get adjusted before deciding on something a little more rustic. Since the time zone was only one hour ahead, I only had to recuperate from the full day of travel.

***

I woke suddenly with the high intensity sun coming through my window. My dream had lingered into my wakefulness. This dream had been different. It repeated itself over and over. I saw flashes of a calendar date, December 21, 2018, then flickering images of the pink marble rock of the Gate of the Gods. This was followed by the first rays of sunlight and then everything repeated.

Having sat in cramped seats on planes for almost a full day, I was eager to stretch my legs and decided a hike was in order if for no other reason than to clear my head. Ever since I found the ring necklace in the safety deposit box, I had been wearing it and this morning was no exception. There was something special about it as it regularly appeared in my dreams. I pulled out my backpack, purchased some bottled water, and ate a meager breakfast before setting off.

I walked slowly southwest and up and away from the lake into the main part of the small village where the hotel was located. Not more than a half a mile from the hotel was the Templo De La Fertilidad. This is definitely not the place to visit if you had residual envy about the size of the parts between your legs. Stone erections were placed everywhere; on the temple roof, in trees, and row after row of them as markers that looked very much like a cemetery.

The village where I was staying offered few amenities other than churches and a living fish museum, so I decided to head north and after several hours of walking I reached the heart of the Puna district and main shopping area. This was where we used to come for our main supplies when I was living here, and I was happy to see that nothing had changed that much. Nothing that is except for me.

When I left Peru, I was thirteen and at the time I was as tall as most of the full-grown men here. The average height of men in Peru is under five-foot-five and since my departure, I had grown so that now, I was quite the anomaly being nearly ten inches taller. My skin was never quite the creamy white of my adoptive parents, but neither was it as dark as the Peruvians.

In some ways I was feeling slightly out of place, but the smells coming from the shops, the motorcycle taxis belching blue smoke in the air, and the plethora of small minivans roaming the streets in what could only be described as organized chaos felt like home. I loved the days when I could come into town and run from store to store finding all my favorite treats.

I spotted a store that looked familiar and stepped inside to rows of dulce de leche alfajores. These were cookies that had a caramel sauce squished between them. I ordered one and an Inca Kola, thankful my language skills were still excellent. I sat at a table and took through the window to the bustling city as I ate and drank more sugar that I knew I should.

The instant I bit into the cookie my mind drifted back to living here with my parents. Mom was right. Things were simpler here and that helped my mind to focus on what was most important. I could now see why my parents loved it here so much. The people were warm and caring, the food, a delectable mix of cultures, the altitude good for you heart and lungs, and the air was pure and clean as long as you were upwind of the cars.

The area was filled with interesting history and lore. It is said there are underwater ruins in the lake; ruins that rival the construction methods of the pyramids. This was also the home of the Incas.

I bought an extra alfajor and drink to go and checked the time. I was too late for a lake cruise and a calendar caught my eye. December 20. On one hand I wanted to tempt fate and on the other I felt compelled to find out exactly what my dreams were telling me. I was found not far from here, twenty years ago on the morning of Dec 21. If I came for clarity, then I needed to return to where it all began. I turned from the store to find a motorcycle rental.

After securing a motorcycle, I rode south for an hour, past my hotel and to the Gate of the Gods. The locals called it Puerto de Hayu Marka, the Doorway of the Amaru Meru in the Valley of the Spirits. After parking the motorcycle, I hiked up the short pathway to the stone gate making sure I memorized the trail for the next time I would come in the early morning hours before sunrise tomorrow.

The area itself was extremely scenic with spectacular thin ridges of pink stone that thrust upward from grassy hills. The formations reminded me of the Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs and the vegetation was indicative of a typical high-altitude desert.

Approaching the gate, I could clearly see that it wasn’t a natural formation. The gate’s face of pink stone was perfectly flat with two large verticals cuts to outline the gate itself. The gate appeared as a square, roughly twenty feet vertical and horizontal, with a second cut into the stone that partially resembled the letter T. That smaller indentation in the rock just fit my height.

When you think of a gate, you think of something that you can see through. Not this gate. It was simply stone that had been carved away, no more than two feet deep into the solid surface of the rock face. There is no gate to pass through, it’s more of an alcove in the solid stone. I sat on one of the many stone benches that had been erected over time and tried to picture myself as a mere child twenty years ago. Someone had left me here.

I stood as dusk began to settle and placed my hand on the stone face. This place was not unlike many native American archeological sites. The unique geography was reason enough for the natives to believe the place was mystical and over generations they used the site for sacred rituals. There was nothing supernatural about this place. It was just carved stone amongst succulents in a beautiful setting.

Somewhat disillusioned, I walked back to the motorcycle and made my way to the hotel for the night.

***

I woke before my alarm. My dreams once again created an urgency for me to return to the Gate of the Gods by sunrise. Sunrise was just after six in the morning and it would take me all of forty minutes to ride the motorcycle and hike to the gate.

I grabbed my backpack, put on my necklace, and started my ride in the dark. By the time I got to the trailhead, the eastern sky was beginning to turn green with the nearing sunrise. After carefully making my way to the gate, I sat inside the stone cutout and waited for the sun.

Slowly the greens gave way to yellow and orange hues and I smiled. I wasn’t expecting anything, but the isolation and crisp morning high-altitude air was exhilarating.

The moment had come, and the first rays of sunlight made their way down the rockface above me. I stood and stepped back watching the light of the sun work its way lower and lower across the pink stone. Finally, the gate was fully lit, and I turned back to face the sun.

Twenty years ago, on this day, I was left here. I was all alone. Now, without my parents I’m once again all alone in this world. I wondered why this didn’t bother me.

A low hum began. I felt it in my feet as it passed up and through the rocks I stood on. I turned to face the gate. Light began appearing from inside the cracks of the rocks. The light crept inward until the entire inner gate was awash with blinding white light.

The urgency from my dreams was there once again. It drove me forward one step at a time. In a single act of defiance to whatever fate might be calling me to, I thrust out my hands to grab the edges of the stone to hold me back. My necklace slipped free from beneath my shirt. It stretched towards the light now no more than a few inches away from me. It pulled me towards the light with a force beyond anything I could describe. I tried to hold back, but my hands slipped free and I plunged through the gate.

I floated as light streamed all around me. My senses told me I was moving, but I felt no wind or resistance of any kind. I held out my hand in front of my face and my fingertips began dissolving before my eyes. I screamed as my body dissolved away but my voice was lost to me. Then the light vanished and there was nothing. No light, no sound.

***

End of Part 1

>Thank you for taking the time to read this section of my story. Normally, I write complete stories, but I was lured by the January Reader Retention Contest to write a complete story as a series. The contest counts the kudos and reads, so if you liked this part, please offer a kudos.

This story is a complete novel made up of eight parts. I plan to post one part every two days so watch for part 2 coming January 3, 2019.

As always, I love to hear from you. Please leave a comment or send me a message.

Casey Brooke