Lin Finity in Holding On, a Fringes of Infinity novella between Books One & Two
Table of Contents
DEDICATION vii
Chapter 1 – Floating Off 1
Chapter 2 – Shoveling Snow 5
Chapter 3 – Giggling Again 13
Chapter 4 – Breaking Hearts 20
Chapter 5 – Taking Lives 28
Chapter 6 – Burying Mayhem 37
Chapter 7 – Falling Apart 47
Chapter 8 – Lingering Smiles 54
Chapter 9 – Meeting Nomad 61
Chapter 10 – Dressing Up 68
Chapter 11 – Driving Fast 73
Chapter 12 – Holding On 82
Chapter 1 – Floating Off
The moon poured its soft light over the gleaming hood of Lin’s car, and her green eyes caught as much as the windshield would allow to bounce inside. In the rush to stop her hours-long flight into a sunset that had long ago yielded to night, she’d raced into a roadside rest area. But she hadn’t bothered to park properly. Instead, she’d looped around to face east, and her Temt8tion remained alongside the rest area’s curb nearest the highway, its two headlight beams burning parallel paths across the white lines of vacant parking spaces.
To her left, across the asphalt, a dense pine forest leaned heavily against the lot, grudgingly leaving a small space for a single picnic table. And along the tree line, far past the reach of the twin rays, a lonely moon rose above the treetops. To her right, beyond an expanse of wet grass, lay the still and empty highway—her escape route from the life she’d left behind.
Lin caught the last trace of a tear on a manicured fingertip before she grasped the steering wheel with both hands. She wondered if the moonlight had helped in chasing her tears back inside until they’d be needed once more. And she couldn’t doubt that she’d have need of them again.
She shifted her legs and remained careful to not snag her black stockings under the steering column. The car’s powerful engine idled a deep rumble, ready to resume her flight westward. Only a press on the pedal would be needed to continue their journey.
“It’s a lot, I know, Lin.”
She turned to her right and held the steady, calm gaze of Gabriel, the friend she’d known as Gabby since she was fifteen. She could only shake her head slowly as the memories of the last thirty-plus years, the sheer weight of them all, continued to reverberate through her. They flowed like a never-ending mountain stream fighting to squeeze through a passage only just wide enough to contain it. Still, a smile lit her face, and her eyes shined with a confidence and clarity that had been elusive since the day Gabriel had arrived.
“Yes, it really is a lot, Gabby. I don’t understand how you just made me remember you and every part you’ve played in my life. You’ve always been a friend—my best friend—but I could never question anything about you. How I always saw you as real, but I never noticed that no one else even knew about you. How I didn’t remember that horrible moment that brought you to me. How you’ve protected me and encouraged me to choose good, and all the while, I knew you only as some pleasant companion.”
She looked back out over the steering wheel as her eyes filled with fresh tears.
“I think I know what you are, but I can’t believe that you’ve spent over three decades watching out for me. All that time, Gabby!”
“It really has been a wonderful time for me, Lin. Please don’t ever doubt that. The rest—your understanding and acceptance of it all—will come to you with time.”
“I hope so. Right now, I feel that amazing power inside me—my mayhem—and I know I’ll never lose it. It’s unbelievable. But I also feel like a balloon whose string broke, and I’m floating off somewhere. I spent over thirty years not completely knowing what was going on in my life.”
“Ah, Lin . . . do you think you ever will know completely?”
She wiped under her eyes and turned to face Gabriel again. She let out a short laugh and shook her head a few times.
“No, probably not. Not with what I’ve seen of the magic and what I can do with it. But most people go through life feeling like they know what’s happening in their lives, don’t they?”
“They think they know, Lin.”
She stopped smiling and looked into Gabriel’s big brown eyes.
“It’s never that easy, is it?”
“No.”
She looked out at a moon that she thought might be looking back at her, maybe even trying to understand her life, too, and she reached for the gear shifter with her right hand. But she only rested her hand on it. The engine continued its muffled thunder.
“Does the freed balloon look only in the direction it floats when it becomes weightless? Or can it look back at the string that once held it securely and always remember a time before it began to drift? If it did that, could it carry a strong memory of being anchored to sustain it wherever it might travel? Could it hold that string itself, Lin?”
“Maybe, Gabby, but it doesn’t seem possible.”
She allowed her hand to drop off the shifter and down to the center console. She felt it vibrating from an engine that waited patiently to be turned loose. She adjusted her blue beret and felt the comfort of the car’s leather seat.
“Your memories of me have been restored. Really, though, they were never anywhere else but inside you. You needed to look away from them for a time, and that time came to an end only moments ago. It was time for you to remember who I really am. And now, you feel apart from your own life?”
“Boy, do I—I just left my entire life behind. But that’s not it. I feel apart from myself, not just my life. Will that feeling pass?”
“Yes, I’m sure it will, Lin. This view of yourself, the way you see yourself only now, is entirely new to you. In time, you will feel a comfort again.”
She sighed and looked to her right, past Gabriel, at the moonlit ribbons of concrete, and then up through the moon roof at a black dome dotted with only a few points of starlight. She bit her lip as she stared into the night.
“Sitting here in the darkness probably doesn’t help, Lin. Who knew Pennsylvania could get so dark?”
“Oh, it sure can, Gabby. Cold too. It was so good to spend some time back in St. Simons Island last week. I’m glad I had that reunion as an excuse to go.”
She turned to look out over her steering wheel.
“That’s where I met you, but you weren’t born there, were you?”
“’Met me?’ Is that what you’d call it?” Lin said with a soft laugh.
“It was much more than that, but yes . . . that was our first meeting.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that. No, I was born here, in Pennsylvania. We moved to St. Simons when I was ten. I remember at the time hating the idea of going. I had to leave all my friends, start a new school . . . all of that. I told my parents I wanted to stay, and I listened to their reasons for leaving. They were good reasons, and at that age, I couldn’t think of any arguments other than that I didn’t want to leave.”
“Did you feel their love for you, Lin? Even though they were doing something you didn’t want?”
“Yeah, of course. Looking back on it now, I see that their love was like a warm blanket, wrapped around me tight. The thing is, it was always there . . . every day of my life. That made it easy to lose sight of it. Does that make sense?”
“Sure, it’s easy to take for granted. We’re made that way.”
“Not you, Gabby.”
“I was like that too. Not anymore, though. Do you remember the day they told you that you were moving?”
“I haven’t thought about it in ages, but yeah, I do remember. I realize now that they waited for the right time to tell me. I didn’t know it then, though.”
“What do you remember?”
Lin dropped both hands onto her lap.
“It was New Year’s Day, the day after a blizzard like I’d never seen before. Snow had drifted so high I couldn’t see over it. And even though the sun shined brightly, a cutting wind swept across the driveway, and I stood there holding a shovel in hands already going numb inside my mittens . . .”
Chapter 2 – Shoveling Snow
“That was good, Mom. I know some kids make fun of grilled cheese sandwiches, but I don’t. I think they’re good.”
“I’m glad you like it, Hon. How about that tomato soup? Pretty good too, huh?”
“I liked it! Hot soup on a day like this—it’s the best. Look at it out there, Mom. How could so much snow fall in one night?”
“Oh, Honey, that’s Pennsylvania for you. You just never know. At least the sun is out, though. That’s a good thing, don’t you think?”
“It’s kind of bright.”
“Yeah, maybe you’ll need your sunglasses, huh?”
“For what? I’m not going out there. It’s too cold!”
Audrey Finnerty laughed and said, “You’re right about it being cold out there, Honey. It’s nice to know the whole entire world isn’t this cold and snowy. There really are places that are warm, even right now. But not here. I think your dad was looking for you. Why don’t you go see what he wants?”
“Sure, Mom.”
Ten-year-old Lin took the basement stairs two at a time, and though she held her hand close to the rail, she never touched it. Even in winter, her father’s rec room was always toasty and offered a permanent conglomeration of scents, reminding her of every good meal they’d enjoyed down there. The small television facing the two recliners showed one of his customary nature and travel shows.
Lin swept both legs up as she jumped and landed just right in her chair.
“Hi, Dad. Whatcha watching?”
Roger Finnerty grabbed up the remote and turned down the volume.
“Hi, my Lin. Oh, it’s just some show about crows. I, for one, didn’t know just how intelligent they are. Scientists have spent a lot of time studying them, and they can’t figure out their language—not even close. They make too many distinct sounds. And you know what? If you take the time, they get to know you and trust you. Especially if you feed them.”
“Pretty neat. How’s your back?”
“Eh. It’s not quite right yet. I should have been more careful on the stairs coming down here that day. I wasn’t paying attention, and bam. Just like that. I hope you’re always careful, Baby.”
“Yeah, Dad, I am. Mom said you wanted to see me?”
“You’ve looked outside, right?”
“Yeah, Dad. There’s a lot of snow!”
“And you know I can’t shovel any of that, not today anyway. Think you can be a sport and give it a try?”
“Dad! There’s too much!”
“Yeah, I know, I know. Hey, you remember in the summer, how we cleaned that driveway up real good?”
“Sure, with the hose, you mean?”
“Yeah, that was fun, wasn’t it? Squirting the water in all the saw cuts and getting the dirt out of there?”
“Dad, I can’t wash away all that snow!”
Her dad laughed and said, “No, Lin, it’s about the cracks. Those cuts in the driveway.”
“What about them?” Lin said as she kicked her legs up and down.
“Well, you remember how they make big squares out of the driveway?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What if you went out there, bundled up real warm, and you planned to clear snow off of just one of those squares? That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
“It’s still a lot of snow, Dad, but I guess shoveling just one square wouldn’t be so bad.”
“That’s all I’m asking, Lin. One square. See how it goes, okay? I wish I could help . . . but not today, I’m afraid.”
Lin glanced at her father’s work boots, the ones he put on as soon as he got out of bed and didn’t take off until the day was done. She knew he was a hard worker and would happily attack all that snow. But he couldn’t.
“Okay, Dad. Just one square,” she said and giggled as he shook his head and smiled.
“You’re a special girl, my Lin.”
Lin could only smile, and she swung her legs over the chair’s arm and rolled up onto her feet.
“I wish I could do that,” he said with a grin.
“You will, Dad. Right now, you’re learning about crows.”
After bounding up the stairs two at a time, Lin headed for the laundry room, where her coats and boots and hats and mittens were waiting. Her mom peeked in and watched her dress for a few seconds before she spoke.
“Hon, that’s really good of you to try with that driveway. That’s a lot of snow, though, so don’t feel bad if you can’t get much of it.”
“Who knows, Mom? I’m sure dressed warm enough!”
“When you come back in, think you’ll want some hot chocolate?”
“Oh yeah, Mom. Yeah!”
Lin hit the button to raise the heavy, frozen garage door, and she walked past her dad’s old muscle car covered in a ratty green tarp. She ran her mitten over the entire length and imagined it polished up and racing in the sunshine, then she stepped into the wind and caught her breath.
Oh, this is too cold! she thought, and she retreated back out of the chill wind.
But only long enough to grab a shovel. For the first time, she looked at the drift from ground level and got a sinking feeling—she couldn’t see over it.
Close to the garage, the snow barely covered the concrete, and she scraped enough aside to see the cut running down the middle from the house to the street. She took a second to look on each side of the line, to try to guess which side had less snow. She saw that it didn’t matter—both sides had mountains of it, so she picked the left side, because she knew it could be seen from the living room window, and got started.
Where was that lousy line? she wondered as she picked away at the snow one shovel load at a time. Her arms felt it first, then her back. But she noticed something: she didn’t feel the cold as much. So, she kept at it, and with a lot of effort, she’d reached her goal. She hid back out of the wind in the garage and looked at what she’d accomplished. One whole square was now snow-free, just like her dad had asked. She did that. All by herself.
She thought about the warmth of the house and her favorite mug full of hot chocolate. With marshmallows too! She turned to look at the door into the house, and a thought crept up on her: could she do one more square? Just one more, that’s all. How bad could it be? Her dad would sure be surprised!
She’d already cooled down from standing still, so she snugged up the hood over her thick, wool hat, pulled the scarf back up to protect her face, and stomped back out to the next mountain of snow.
It wasn’t easy since her body already ached, but she finished one more square and walked slowly back into the garage. She could almost taste the hot chocolate and feel the soft warmth of the couch.
How many squares were in that driveway? She thought back to cleaning it with her dad, riding her bike over it, and coloring it up with chalk, and she still didn’t know. So, she looked at how big the square was and looked down to the sidewalk. There were twelve squares, she figured. Maybe she could do one more at least.
She kept at it until only two snowy squares remained. Lin heard her mom pounding on the living room window and turned to see her waving her in. But Lin shook her head and pointed at the snow. Her mom gave up and shook her head with a smile. Lin waved, took a deep breath, and returned to what she’d set her mind to do.
As soon as she walked in from the garage, both her mom and dad were there, though her dad was a little hunched over. But they both had huge smiles.
“Wow, my Lin, you’re really something. How did you finish all that?”
“It wasn’t easy, Dad, but I did it.”
“Are you ready for that hot chocolate, Honey?”
“Yeah, Mom. I thought about that the whole time!”
“Aren’t you tired after all that? I thought we figured you’d try one square and see how that went.”
“I did, Dad. I tried one square, and then I thought . . . well, what if I try just one more? Just one more square?”
“And you kept going. I wouldn’t have believed you could do that much. I never would have asked you to, that’s for sure.”
“At first, I didn’t think I could either!”
Seated around the kitchen table, Lin looked out at the deep snow over the backyard, and she felt the pins and needles in her feet as the cold got chased out of them. When her mom set her Miami Beach mug with a smiling blue dolphin in front of her, and a bag of mini marshmallows, too, she smiled and forgot all about her aching muscles.
“Take a sip, Honey. It’ll warm you up. Did you like being out there in the cold?”
“Not really, Mom, but I’m kind of glad I did all that. Snow isn’t as much fun as it used to be.”
“Yeah, it really isn’t. That reminds me . . . there’s something we want to talk to you about.”
Lin stirred a few marshmallows into the steaming chocolate and blew on it.
“What’s that, Mom?”
“That’s when they told you about moving, Lin?”
“Yeah, Gabby. Right after I fought my way through a crazy amount of snow. Pretty smart, huh?”
“I’d say so, but you still weren’t happy about moving?”
“Nope. But if I hadn’t done all that work out there, I would have really hated the idea.”
“They handled that well. And you said they really did need to move?”
“Yeah, for work. My dad didn’t know for sure his back was ever going to get back to normal, and he wouldn’t be able to work like he’d been doing. They thought there were better jobs for him down in St. Simons.”
Lin felt the car rumbling beneath her as she stared out at the moon, which had climbed a bit farther into the night sky. She held the wheel with both hands and felt that the life she’d just left behind in Allentown was as far away as her childhood. The motor waited, and she slid her black heel across the carpet until she felt the toe pressed against the side of the gas pedal.
“They wanted your approval, though?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that something, Gabby? I was just a ten-year-old kid—they didn’t have to explain anything to me.”
“That’s love, Lin. Even though you weren’t happy about it, did you agree to go?”
“I did. I saw how important it was to them, and I knew I couldn’t really argue anyway. I was just a kid.”
“Is it possible you were more than just a kid, Lin?”
She shook her head and continued gazing into the dark.
“I don’t know, Gabby. Especially a couple of years after that. I felt more like a trapped animal than anything else. I wished to God I could be ‘just a kid’ again.”
“When you shoveled more snow than you thought you possibly could, did that tell you something about yourself?”
“Oh yeah, it sure did. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but I learned that if I apply myself to something, if I really focus on it, I can do way more than I think. I did get pretty sore, though.”
She turned and smiled at Gabriel, who continued to look straight out into the night.
“You pushed yourself through something difficult, and you became stronger for it?”
“Yeah, that’s for sure. I know what you’re getting at, Gabby. It was the same way when I was twelve, but it was so, so much more difficult.”
“And it led to something more than just sore muscles, didn’t it?”
Lin looked back out through the windshield to see a bright moon raining its cold light all around them.
“Yeah. Boy, did it ever. It was a high price, though. I didn’t think I’d make it, and you know, I wouldn’t have without you.”
“You would have been fine, Lin. It might not have been as much fun, though. I’ve been pretty good company, haven’t I?”
She turned back toward Gabriel with a big smile. Gabriel turned and looked into her moistening eyes.
“As bad as it was, I wouldn’t trade any of it, Gabby. I never would have found my mayhem, and I never would have met you. I can never tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
“I’ve enjoyed it at least as much as you. Before things got bad, do you remember life in St. Simons? Did you enjoy the sunshine and warmer weather?”
“Oh, I sure did, and I never missed the snow. I can remember the first time I walked into the ocean. The sun was high in a clear blue sky, and my mom packed a lunch. I sat on the green blanket my mom laid out, unlacing my shoes, and I felt hypnotized by the sparkling blue waves . . .”