The Breakthrough, Short Story by Coletha Albert

Sarah leaned against the railing of the Washington State Ferry, the saltwater spray caressing her face gently. In her pocket, her hand was clenched around a small, bronze skeleton key. It wasn’t just a key to a new cottage; it was the key to the life she had claimed, a life that finally belonged to her. No longer did she carry around the past like a tail following her where ever she went.

She had spent moments, days, nights, weeks, months, years, decades maybe even lifetimes — existing, carrying out duties, surviving, seeking out a sliver of living that was rented, provisional, and constantly disintergrating. Then she would gather up the ashes to rebuild again and again it would disintergrate. Finally, something has changed, she is now stepping into the new iteration.

Her cramped Seattle studio was nice however, the constant drone of traffic and the persistent gray of the winter sky had come to mirror her internal landscape. The fentanyl addicts doubled over in outer space. The filth of dogs littering the sidewalks and parks. The countenance of the people focused on their own internal traumas and schemes. Besides all of this, it was a life defined by subtraction: counting pennies, counting failures, counting the things she couldn’t have. She had been living underwater, holding her breath, and today was the day she had finally broken the surface.

The “breakthrough” hadn’t been a single dramatic event, but a series of quiet, hard-won victories. The moment she realized she deserved more. The difficult conversation with her old landlord. The accepted job offer in Eastsound. The day she looked at her packed suitcase and realized that everything in it was hers. What sealed it? It was the Mahjong tiles; 3, 3 points, diagonal, with a fourth coming into the dimension… everything lined up. They were praying for her as she was praying for them. Heart to heart, soul to soul…the same words, longings and desires at the exact same time. As this knowing filled her mind…

Orcas Island rose before her, a jewel-toned labyrinth of emerald and turquoise. It was wilder than Seattle, more expansive. Mount Constitution loomed, its shoulders wrapped in mist, its peak offering a perspective that had always been out of reach from the city streets. The ferry roared, the gangway lowered, and Sarah walked onto the land she had chosen.

The key slid perfectly into the lock of her new cottage, a sun-drenched space above a small bookstore. It smelled of fresh paint, baked apples, pine trees, moss, and crisp ocean air. When she sat down at her kitchen table and looked out the window, she felt a peaceful elation wash over her. She never wanted a life that held some sort of daily, weekly Crises. There would be no more messages from a “sister” who was a basic stranger with negativity. There would be no more stories about another “sister” who spent money to impress people who despised her. Meanwhile her brother languished in jail with no money on his books from her and a mother whose home was sinking and deteriorating under the relentless Texas sun. Sarah never had to think of the older brother who shunned her so long ago because she would not gaze upon his naked manhood. The thing he most treasured on earth. Yes, respect was rare in Sarah’s blood family. Even so, God’s Grace is sufficient. She learned through studying the Bible with Holy Spirit that she does not have to shoulder the flaws, faults, indignities, and shame of her “family”. She accepted that the rewarder of her faith is Almighty God. She accepted that it was never her role to save her family nor to bear their sins. As her Great Grandmother said, “Every tub has to sit on its own bottom.”

Her adopted Grandmother, Minnie Hosea, secured for her this cottage through her trust several iterations ago. What a blessing. She had always made a difference when she was younger, Sarah was NOT her favorite. Before she passed away, she actually appreciated what Sarah and Steven had done for her, always looking after her. She could not have known what would happen… that her own kin would try to steal Sarah’s inheritance from Mrs. Minnie. Mrs. Minnie is gone. Stephen is gone. Sarah is on her own.

The inheritance was stolen and hidden from Sarah. Sarah never expected anything from Mrs. Minnie. Mrs. Minnie never told her that she was in the will. What does it matter? God sits high and looks low. Heaven intervened on Sarah’s behalf. How?

The former executor of the trust passed away unexpectedly and the new executor through research and legal counsel put everything right. The keys and the deeds arrived via Federal Express. In an instant, her destiny became her life and the old one passed away.

As she looked out over Fishing Bay, a tear finally broke loose. It was not a tear of sorrow, nor even a tear of relief. It was a tear of sheer, uncomplicated joy. The suffering hadn’t won. The destitution hadn’t hollowed her out. She had won. Sarah wasn’t just starting over; she was, for the first time, beginning. Almighty God kept her. Almighty God truly had a plan to prosper her and give her a life. Almighty God always helped her and did not harm her.

Morale: They that wait upon the Almighty God shall renew their strength. They shall endure until the appointed time when GOD makes their enemies their footstool. And they shall abide with Almighty God forever. Amen ~ Is. 40:31, Ps. 110:1, Is. 26:4