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    The Door


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      PRAISE FOR Seventh Dimension – The Door

      “Dazzling imagery, like a Biblical Alice in Wonderland”

      Roger Hunt, Roger Hunt Music

      “A heartwarming story with loveable animal characters, a stirring heroine, and a king’s love for his children—truly pleasing for young and old alike.”

      Hannah Bombardier (age 17)

      “A beautiful and meaningful story that keeps you on the edge of your seat!”

      Leah Palmer (age 14)

      “If you enjoyed the Narnia Series by C. S. Lewis, you will love this book.”

      Bob Saffrin, best-selling author-pastor

      “A colorful portrait painted with entertaining characters, lively dialogue, and beautifully adorned with a profound message. The life-like journey evokes tears and cheers, filling the reader with delight.”

      Janet Perez Eckles, best-selling author

      A Young Adult Christian Fantasy

      SEVENTH DIMENSION

      THE DOOR

      Lorilyn Roberts

      Seventh Dimension – The Door

      Copyright ©2012 Lorilyn Roberts

      Kindle edition.

      All rights reserved.

      Discover other titles by Lorilyn Roberts

      The Donkey and the King

      Children of Dreams

      How to Launch a Best-Selling Christian Book

      Anthology edited by Lorilyn Roberts

      Taste and See

      Cover photograph copyright © Shutterstock.com.

      Standard licensing agreement.

      Enhanced cover design by Lisa Hainline

      Rabbit drawing by Leah Palmer

      Edited by Lisa Lickel

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval system—except for brief quotations for the purpose of review, without written permission from the publisher.

      Scripture taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE®, Copyright © 1960,1962,1963,1968,1971,1972,1973,1975,1977,1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

      ASIN: B009R8Q1WC

      ISBN: 978-1-62620-075-3

      For names of persons depicted in this novel, similarity to any actual persons, whether living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

      AUTHOR’S NOTE

      For every child who struggles with doubt, for every kid who has been bullied, for every teen who comes from a broken home, and for every young adult who longs to be understood—this book is for you.

      “A spiritual kingdom lies all about us, enclosing us, embracing us, altogether within reach of our inner selves, waiting for us to recognize it. God Himself is here waiting our response to His Presence. This eternal world will come alive to us the moment we begin to reckon upon its reality.” – A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God.

      “…Wonderful Counselor

      Mighty God

      Everlasting Father

      Prince of Peace

      Isaiah 9:6

      To Harry

      Who told me I was a daughter of the king.

      Table of Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One—Dark Secret of Shale Snyder

      Chapter Two—Suspension

      Chapter Three—Shale Faces Judgment

      Chapter Four—The Door

      Chapter Five—The Garden

      Chapter Six—Banished From the Garden

      Chapter Seven—Surprises

      Chapter Eight—Where Am I?

      Chapter Nine—Woman in the Clouds

      Chapter Ten—The Meeting

      Chapter Eleven—Silence of Destiny

      Chapter Twelve—Shale and the Young Man at the Well

      Chapter Thirteen—Strange Coincidence

      Chapter Fourteen—Daniel Connection

      Chapter Fifteen—Moment of Truth in a World of Shadows

      Chapter Sixteen—Disturbing Discovery

      Chapter Seventeen—Wilderness Journey

      Chapter Eighteen—Three Temptations

      Chapter Nineteen—Conflicting Worlds of Shale and Daniel

      Chapter Twenty—Dark Light of the Moon

      Chapter Twenty-One—Worldly Crow, Friend or Foe?

      Chapter Twenty-Two—Bullies and Demons

      Chapter Twenty-Three—King of Deliverance

      Chapter Twenty-Four—Truth Exposed in Multiple Realities

      Chapter Twenty-Five—Can Shale Woo Daniel?

      Chapter Twenty-Six—The Enchanter Casts a Spell

      Chapter Twenty-Seven—The Sheep

      Chapter Twenty-Eight—The Healing

      Chapter Twenty-Nine—Secrets Revealed

      Chapter Thirty—The Visitor

      Chapter Thirty-One—Sojourn of the Ages

      Chapter Thirty-Two—An Unexpected Encounter

      Chapter Thirty-Three—Terrible News

      Chapter Thirty-Four—Betrayal

      Chapter Thirty-Five—The Battle

      Chapter Thirty-Six—Secrets of the Garden

      Chapter Thirty-Seven—Mysteries of the Seventh Dimension

      Chapter Thirty-Eight—Ebenezer

      Closing Remarks

      Acknowledgments

      Prologue

      A diary entry many years later:

      “Long ago, a magical king was born in a kingdom where animals talked and intellect sparred with spirituality. It was a time when truth transcended culture, forgiveness won battles, and love conquered a young girl’s heart.”

      But lest I get ahead of myself, let me start from the beginning—which happened a long, long, long time ago. So long ago, I barely remember the beginning of my journey to the Seventh Dimension.

      Chapter One

      Dark Secret of Shale Snyder

      I hid in a closet underneath the stairs—my safe house. Nobody would find me in here. It wasn’t used because the ceiling was too low. After the accident, the closet became my friend. I wanted to avoid Judd, who came over to visit Chumana. She was not my sister but we lived together.

      Guilt overwhelmed me. The door creaked as I turned the handle. I held my breath and peered through the tiny slit. Moving shadows darkened the room. Judd, Rachel, and Chumana stared into a small brown shoebox.

      Chumana burst out crying. “I hate Shale.”

      I cringed. She already hated me anyway, ever since we moved in with them a few months earlier.

      Rachel stood and recited a Jewish prayer. “Barukh shem k'vod malkhuto l'olam va'ed. Blessed is the name of his glorious kingdom forever and ever.” With her unkempt hair, puffy red eyes, and flushed face, I barely recognized my best friend.

      “Why are you praying?” Judd snapped. “We aren’t here to pray.”

      “Accidents happen,” Rachel said.

      “She should be cursed,” Judd exploded.

      “Don’t say that,” Rachel said.

      “How do you know it was an accident?” Chumana asked.

      I looked away. I couldn’t listen. My whole body quivered—what kind of curse?

      Judd’s voice cracked. “I demand she tell us what happened.”

      The three twelve-year-olds sat silently for a moment before Rachel responded. “She fell down the stairs with Fifi and she’s afraid.”

      I swallowed hard.

      Judd pulled his uncle’s Atlanta Braves cap over his eyes and clinched his hand into a fist. “I hope Shale never has any friends—for the rest of her life.” He covered his face and sobbed.

      I bit my fingernail holding back tears. I’d never heard a boy cry. Could his curse come true?

      Chumana’s red hair matched her fiery temper. “That’s not enough of a curse. She already doesn’t have any friends.”

      “I’m her friend,” Rachel said. “Accidents happen.”

      Rachel lived two buildings down from us in the Hope Garden Ap
    artments. Would she still be my friend if I told her the truth? I didn’t just fall—it was what I was doing when I fell. I was too afraid. I rubbed my swollen ankle, a reminder of my foolishness. The doctor hoped it would heal, but Fifi lay in the box.

      Probably God hated me, too. If I told the truth, everyone would hate me. I couldn’t even tell my mother. My father—he left me long ago.

      ***

      Two Years Later

      I felt a hand reach underneath my blue skirt. I spun around on my toes. Students in the crowded hallway blended into a blur of anonymity. Hurried bodies shoved past. Am I going crazy? Did I imagine it? I scanned faces and froze each one, like a snapshot with a camera.

      “Shale, why are you standing there? Come on or you’ll be late to class.” Rachel was waiting at the hall lockers.

      I walked towards her as the bell rang.

      “Are you okay?” She furrowed her brow.

      “I’m fine.” I smiled, pretending nothing had happened. I’d think about it later. “Did you finish your analysis of As You Like It?”

      Rachel’s brown eyes bulged. “Is it due today?”

      “Here’s mine. You can take a quick look if you need to.”

      “Oh, thanks, Shale. I hate Shakespeare anyway. No copying, promise. Just a peek.”

      “It’s no different from reading Spark Notes on the web,” I quipped.

      When we walked into English class at Garden High School, I sat in the seat closest to the door and stared out into the darkened hallway. Who did it? What would I do if I caught him? Mrs. Wilkes’s voice brought me back to reality as she recited from a Shakespearean play.

      “All the world’s a stage.

      And all the men and women merely players

      They have their exits and their entrances

      And one man in his time plays many parts

      His acts being seven ages.”

      What was my part? At fourteen, did I have one yet?

      ***

      Later in the afternoon, I tripped while stepping off the school bus. My books scattered over the ground. My bum ankle from the accident two years earlier would catch at the worst possible moments—what I considered my eternal punishment.

      Scrambling to pick them up, I wiped the red Georgia clay off my math book. The bus waited long enough to make sure it wouldn’t run me over before pulling away.

      “Hey, wait up, ya’ll.” I walked faster to catch up as Rachel stopped, but Chumana and Judd kept going. We still lived in the same apartment complex on the south side of Atlanta—had for years.

      “If you used a backpack, you wouldn’t have dropped your books,” Rachel chided me.

      “Mine broke.” I scanned Rachel’s back. “Where’s yours?”

      “I did my homework at school. This is all I needed.” Rachel waved a thick book with strange-looking letters in the air.

      “Can you read that stuff?”

      “Sure,” Rachel laughed, “but I don’t know what it means. You could too if I taught you.” Rachel flipped to the first page. “You start on this side.” Her finger pointed to a line of Hebrew and she ran her finger across the page from right to left.

      “Really?”

      “Yes.” Rachel giggled. “So who reads backwards, the English or the Jews?”

      “I’d say the Jews. I can say that since I’m not Jewish, right?”

      “Why not?”

      “Writing would sure be easier if English was right to left. I wouldn’t smear my words.”

      Rachel nodded. “I forget you’re left-handed. It’s crazy, isn’t it—like the Brits drive on the left side and we drive on the right.”

      We walked for a while not saying anything. I glanced at my friend with her striking olive skin, almond brown eyes, and brown hair. “Do you like being Jewish?”

      “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know any different.”

      “I wish I was Jewish.”

      “Why?” Rachel asked.

      “It would be neat to be able to say I was something.”

      “You could go to church,” Rachel suggested.

      “Mom and Remi would never go. Every time they talk about God or anything religious, they end up fighting.”

      Rachel flinched. “That’s too bad. By the way, thanks for your help with English.”

      “You’re welcome.” I switched my books to the left, thinking how much I hated the long walk home, especially since we now lived farther away. The new unit we moved into when Remi and mother married was at the very back by the woods.

      Rachel frowned, noticing my musings. “What’s it like having a father now?”

      I bit my lip hesitating. “At least I have my own bedroom and don’t have to share with Chumana.”

      “That’s good,” Rachel agreed. “How did you ever end up living with her anyway?”

      “Mother didn’t have any money when we moved to Atlanta. She found an ad that Chumana’s mother placed in the Atlanta Constitution looking for a roommate. It was a cheap place to live.”

      I eyed Judd and Chumana ahead of us. “What are they talking about? They have been spending a lot of time together.”

      Rachel lowered her voice. “I know.”

      “Maybe they deserve each other.”

      Rachel edged up even closer to me and spoke in a whisper, “You never knew your father, right?”

      “No.” I clutched my books that now seemed heavier. “Mother couldn’t wait to marry Remi after being divorced for so many years. Then she cried all night when they returned from their honeymoon in the mountains. I couldn’t sleep. I wondered why, but was too afraid to ask.”

      “Maybe it was a bad honeymoon,” Rachel chortled.

      “Silly you. How can you have a bad honeymoon?”

      “I don’t know,” Rachel replied. “I’m sure it’s happened.”

      “I hardly knew Remi the day they married.”

      “It’s hard to imagine what it would be like to be at your own parent’s wedding. I mean, it might be funny if it could happen,” Rachel said.

      “Like Back to the Future?” Then my thoughts darkened. “How would you like having a stepfather you don’t know?”

      Rachel shook her head. “I wouldn’t.”

      I’d never confided in anyone about my past but now I couldn’t stop. “Presents arrive twice a year from North York. I don’t remember anything about my father. One day he left and never returned.”

      “I can’t imagine what that would be like,” Rachel said.

      “Sometimes I get angry.”

      Rachel’s eyes widened. “About what?”

      “Mother didn’t ask how I felt about her remarrying.”

      We walked in silence as my words hung in the air. I kicked a rock on the sidewalk and it skipped into the gutter. Rachel’s warm nature was comforting. She came from such a perfect family, or it seemed. I’d tell her things I wouldn’t tell anyone else.

      Voices from the past mocked me. “Do I walk like a chicken?”

      Rachel laughed. “No, you don’t walk like a chicken.”

      “Do I have big lips?”

      “Big lips?” Rachel stopped and stared at me surprised. “No.”

      “You don’t think so? Every time I wet them with my tongue, I worry I’m making them fat—so I was told.”

      Rachel examined my fair face. I pretended not to notice. “You’re beautiful. Who would say such mean things?”

      I didn’t want to tell her. What was the point in making him look bad?

      “I love your green eyes and long brown hair.” Rachel reached out and grabbed a couple of strands, flipping them over my shoulder. “I wish mine wasn’t wavy with all the humidity. I use an iron to straighten it but it doesn’t stay that way for long.” Rachel giggled. “Guys love long, straight hair.”

      “Remi wants me to call him dad, but that seems weird.”

      A few feet in front of us, Chumana knelt on the sidewalk.

      Rachel squinted. “What are they looking at?”

      An earthworm wiggled on the sidewalk, barely warm from the late afternoon sun. A few
    weeks after Christmas, it was the wrong time of year for creepy crawlers.

      “It’s probably cold,” I said.

      Judd lifted his foot to squash it.

      “Wait,” I demanded.

      Judd glared at me.

      “Why kill it?” I asked.

      He leaned down and picked it up, dangling the worm a few inches above the sidewalk. “Have you ever dissected one of these?”

      I shook my head.

      He stiffened. “I should make you squish it between your delicate fingers.”

      I stared at the worm. Judd dropped it on the sidewalk. As he started to smash it again, I leaned over and shoved him. “Just leave it alone.”

      Judd’s face turned beet red. “Don’t ever push me again. You hear me?”

      I nodded. My knees spasmed like a jack-in-the-box.

      “You don’t like squishing worms but you killed my puppy.” His icy eyes ripped at my soul.

      Rachel said, “Get over it. You sound so hateful.”

      Chumana glared through her thick, black-rimmed glasses. “Judd is right, though, Rachel. Don’t you remember?”

      “I remember,” Rachel whispered.

      My heart raced as I picked up the worm—its slimy body was cold to the touch—and stuck it in my pocket.

      Judd shook his head and stomped off.

      Ruefully, I urged Rachel and Chumana, “You two go on. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      Rachel nodded. They continued walking, leaving me alone.

      After wrapping the worm up in some brown leaves, I placed it on a warmer corner of the concrete. When I lifted my eyes, I saw the white dog for the first time. She sat nearby wagging her fluffy tail.

      As I approached her, she stood and limped backwards. The scruffy creature was dirty and mangy, with floppy short ears and almond brown eyes. If she belonged to someone or was lost, the owner wasn’t taking very good care of her. A fuzzy feeling warmed my heart. Did she like me? Before I could get too close, the dog turned and ran away.

     


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