Back to Salem

by Alex Marcoux

  Ellen changed the subject. “What are you doing today? Do you want to get together for dinner?”

  “I have some errands to run, then I plan on working on Deceptions tonight. Want to get together tomorrow for dinner?”

  “Sure. Let’s go out to Randolph’s; I’m in the mood for a steak.”

  Later that morning, Jessie left in her silver Lexus. She headed away from her neighborhood, which was in the San Gabriel foothills. As she drove down the winding road, she turned on her stereo. A vaguely familiar tune caught her attention and she struggled, trying to place the voice of the singer. Then she remembered. Oh. This is that new one from Taylor Andrews. She turned the volume up so she could hear the words a little clearer. Jessie never cared for the artist’s music. I never can understand her lyrics, she thought as she concentrated. But there was one phrase that got Jessie’s attention, “We’ll be together, again. Next time. I promise. It’ll be the same.”

  She realized it was the same phrase from her dream. What a coincidence, she thought.

  After the post office and bank, Jessie stopped in at the grocery store to pick up a few things. As she waited in the checkout line, she found herself drawn to the magazines on the rack near the cashier. Within seconds, her eyes fell upon the latest issue of People magazine. The cover page caption was “Divas—The In and the Out.” Pictures of female singers were plastered over the front of the magazine. Jessie was not surprised when her eyes fell upon Taylor Andrews. Is she in or out? she wondered. Jessie picked up the magazine and placed it in her basket.

  Jessie’s home was nestled in an exclusive upper-middle-class neighborhood on the outskirts of Los Angeles County. Although her house was one of the smaller, more modest homes in the neighborhood, her view of the city and ocean was one of the most breathtaking in the area. The contemporary house was going on five years old.

  At 38 years of age, Jessica Mercer knew she was lucky to be able to afford such a lifestyle. But it wasn’t her twenty novels that had provided her with these comforts, rather, it was the screenplay of Beyond Paradise. When Travis Sanders approached her about doing the screenplay of her novel, she never realized how much her life would change. After the screenplay was written and the movie produced, it earned an Oscar for Best Picture. Now she was respected as a novelist and screenwriter.

  When Jessie returned home that afternoon she made a fresh pot of coffee to prepare for a long work session. As the coffee brewed, she toured her home looking for Maxwell. She found him asleep on the couch in the great room. “Want some dinner?” she asked.

  Maxwell was more interested in some attention. He stretched his neck allowing Jessie’s long fingers to scratch under his chin. Beside Maxwell was the remote control to the television. Jessie glanced at her watch. I wonder who’s on Oprah today. She flicked the remote and the television came on, and then she searched for the talk show. Jessie retreated to the kitchen where she poured the cat food and as she lowered Maxwell’s dinner to the floor, she heard the familiar tune. She returned to the sunken great room. Taylor Andrews was performing.

  This woman really gets around. Jessie sat on a soft chair. As Taylor Andrews performed, Jessie struggled to understand the lyrics, catching a word here and there. Taylor sang confidently looking into the eye of the camera. Her clear blue eyes seemed to dance. The long dark hair fell naturally past her shoulders contrasting with the feminine white suit that complimented her figure. Jessie studied the entertainer’s style. The audience was genuinely pleased. After her performance, there was a brief discussion with Oprah. When have I seen her perform before? Jessie wondered as she studied her familiar eyes. I’ve got to get some work done. She turned off the television.

  Around midnight Jessie decided to call it an evening and turned off her computer. She had progressed with her project and realized she was further along than she had thought. As she climbed into bed, she could not help thinking about Deceptions, and her next steps. Soon her thoughts drifted into a dream.

  Daniel Johnson sat alone in the empty courtroom. He was distressed. The tiny room was very warm as the sun beamed through the small windows. But physical discomfort was not what tormented him. His wife was not next to him, and he felt a void in his heart that he could not explain.

  Chief Justice Stoughton entered the courtroom and moved to his bench. He sat high above Daniel and appeared not to notice him.

  Daniel stood and moved to the judge’s bench. “Why?” Daniel asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why have you taken away the only thing I care about?”

  The judge ignored the question, intensifying Daniel’s anguish.

  “What has she done that is so wrong?” Daniel’s voice continued to rise. “When can I see her again?”

  Finally, the judge looked at Daniel. “I know it’s not clear right now, but you will find the answers to all your questions in this.” The judge stretched out his hand. In his palm, there was a tile-size picture. Daniel picked up the small piece of soft wood. The picture vividly portrayed a sun peeking over a mountaintop with a rainbow above the sun. The last color of the rainbow spectrum, purple, was lost in a purple sky. On both ends of the rainbow was an object. The rainbow appeared to be harnessed by a large caldron that sat on a lake in front of the mountain. The vivid colors ran vertically and arched over the sun disappearing in the clouds. The purple between the clouds formed a symbol in the sky, a large T cross with a loop above it.

  As Daniel studied the strange picture, the large, rough hands that held the object transformed to smaller, feminine, soft hands. Then Daniel was gone.

  “And this will give me my answers?” a softer voice asked.

  Stoughton looked into the woman’s eyes. “Yes, Jessie. You will find the answers to your questions in this.”

  The next morning, Jessie quickly went to work in her dream journal. She used colored pencils to portray the vivid colors of the picture in her dream. I’ll find the answers to my questions in this. She stared at the picture. What questions, though?

  As expected, Ellen showed up by seven o’clock that evening, and the women headed out to dinner in Ellen’s Mustang. The June evening was perfect and Ellen had the convertible top down, providing an enjoyable ride through the San Gabriel foothills.

  “How was your day?” Jessie asked. She pulled her wind-blown hair away from her face.

  “Good. It’s only the 12th of the month, and I’ve made my June quota,” Ellen bragged. She was a technical sales representative for Dell Computer.

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” Ellen turned on the stereo. Music blasted through the speakers amplifying the voice of Taylor Andrews’s new hit.

  What is with this song? Jessie wondered. She listened intently to the lyrics. As the familiar phrase was sung, “We’ll be together, again. Next time. I promise. It’ll be the same,” Jessie felt warmth in her chest. When the next song came on, Jessie recognized Taylor Andrews’s voice, “Is this a CD?” She asked.

  “Yeah, it’s her new one. I got it yesterday.”

  “Do you have the CD jacket?”

  “Check the glove compartment.”

  Jessie opened the compartment and searched for the CD cover. She found a group of CDs, pulled them out and looked through them. But none of them were by Taylor Andrews. “I don’t see it.”

  Ellen peered over to the glove compartment as she approached a straightaway. “It doesn’t look like most CD jackets. It’s cardboard, not plastic,” she said.

  With this insight, Jessie eyed something that was cardboard and appeared to be the correct size. She pulled it from the glove compartment. Jessie felt a rush of warmth, and her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the object in her hand. The voice of the judge from her dream echoed in her head, “You will find the answers to your questions in this.”

  Jessie stared at the same unusual picture she had drawn in her dream journal that morning. What the hell does this mean? Every detail she recalled from her dream was perfect, the rain
bow, the caldron, the mountain, and the sun rising. Or maybe it’s setting. Every detail, except the clouds did not form the cross-like symbol. Then she turned the CD jacket over and there it was. The backdrop for the listed songs showed the familiar clouds with the cross-like image.

  Ellen noticed that Jessie was quiet and seemed withdrawn. “Are you okay?” she asked, as she pulled the car into a parking spot at the restaurant.

  Jessie did not respond.

  “Jessie, where are you?” Ellen lightly pulled at Jessie’s shirtsleeve.

  “Sorry. We’re here,” Jessie noted. “Can I take this inside?” Jessie held up the CD jacket. “I want to read the lyrics of one of the songs.”

  “Sure.”

  By the time they were seated and drinks were ordered, Ellen knew something was different with Jessie. “What’s wrong Jessie? You haven’t said a word since you got out of the car.”

  Jessie seemed to look through Ellen. “How long have we known each other?”

  “About 15 months.”

  “Do I strike you as being…” Jessie searched for the word, “flighty?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure I know. Unusual? Strange? Unbalanced?”

  “No. You’re probably one of the more balanced and grounded individuals I know. Why are you asking?”

  Jessie wondered if she should confide in her friend. “I had a dream last night.”

  “The recurring one?”

  “Same characters, but a different scene. I was in court. It was after the trial. The judge was with me. He said I would find the answers to my questions in something. He handed me a small cardboard picture.” Jessie pulled the CD from her purse. “He said I would find the answers to my questions in this.”

  Ellen smiled.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “No, I do believe you. The judge said you would find your answers in Taylor Andrews’s new CD, Karmic Debt?”

  It was only then that Jessie heard the title of the CD. Karmic Debt. “No, he didn’t actually say CD but I clearly saw the picture of this CD cover.”

  “When was the first time you saw the CD jacket?”

  “This is the first time. I mean I can’t discount the possibility that I may have seen it a couple months ago, somewhere, but I don’t remember it.”

  “It was just released earlier this month. It sounds precognitive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Precognition. Seeing something before it actually happens. I’ve told you many times that you’re very psychic, Jessie. Maybe now you’ll believe me.”

  “But what does it mean?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the one that needs to figure it out.”

  “You don’t sound freaked out or even surprised,” Jessie mused.

  “Jessie, the universe sends us signs every day. You’re just starting to listen to them. Do you have any other connections to Taylor Andrews?”

  “No. I don’t even like her music. I never can understand the words to her songs, never mind the meanings to them. Except...”

  “Except what?”

  “Over the last couple of days I keep hearing one of the songs on this CD.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I get in the car and it’s playing; I turn on the TV and she’s on Oprah. I wake up to the radio alarm playing her song.”

  “And you don’t call those connections?”

  “I call that coincidence,” Jessie answered.

  “And you know what I say about coincidence?”

  “There’s no such thing as a coincidence,” the women chorused.

  Jessie studied her friend admiringly. Although Ellen was ten years younger than herself, she seemed to have it all together, or certainly was more in control of her life than most.

  Ellen continued, “Taylor Andrews’s music has always been…before her time. Her songs are usually filled with metaphysics. That might be a sign right there.”

  “Any suggestions? About what I should do?” Jessie asked.

  “Have you heard the entire CD?”

  Jessie shook her head. “No.”

  “Then take it and listen to it.”

  Jessie opened the CD jacket and searched for the lyrics. But the lyrics had not been included with the CD. “The lyrics aren’t here,” she said disappointingly.

  “I guess that means you’ll have to listen to it.”

  Chapter 3

  The next morning, Jessie was determined to listen to Taylor Andrews’s CD in its entirety. She went to her great room, put the CD in the player and pressed “play.” Jessie found that some of the songs were easier to understand, while others were more difficult. After listening to the CD a couple of times she still didn’t understand some of the song that had continued to pop up in her life.

  What is the name of the song? Jessie turned over the CD. Her fingers followed the list of songs to the number three slot. “Daniel’s Heart.” What kind of a title is that?

  Later that afternoon she got online to search for the lyrics. It didn’t take her long before she found many websites run by fans as “The Official Website of Taylor Andrews.” Here she found the lyrics to Karmic Debt and printed them off. But before she read them, she stared at Taylor Andrews on her computer screen. Who does she remind me of? There was something vaguely familiar about Taylor, but Jessie couldn’t figure it out. Then it hit her. It’s her eyes.

  She turned to the paper in her printer bin, but before she removed the lyrics, the phone rang. “Hello, this is Jessie.”

  “Hi Jessie, it’s Travis Sanders.”

  “Hi, Travis. How are you?”

  “Fine. How much longer for Deceptions?” he asked. Travis had a habit of getting right to the point.

  “I’ll finish the manuscript late next week, but it’ll be a while before the publisher is finished with the galleys.”

  “I don’t want to wait for the galleys. Can’t you send me a manuscript? I know it’s not in finished form.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Jessie rested the phone in its cradle, smiling. She remembered when she used to beg producers and publisher to look at her work. How times have changed! She stared at the 400 pages titled Deceptions sitting on her desk, then felt a tinge of guilt. I should be working. Jessie looked at the paper in the printer bin. Taylor Andrews will have to wait. She turned her attention to the manuscript and continued editing.

  Jessie knew that Deceptions was special right from its genesis. The story had come to her while meditating. Rather than writing it, however, she nurtured it in her mind for months developing her characters and plots until she had the story complete in her head. Her experience getting it on paper was easier than she had ever imagined. She never had writer’s block, and in just four short months, the story was finished. This was her record. Ellen teased her that the book was spiritually inspired, and that she should list the spirits in the book’s acknowledgments. Jessie was grateful for whatever helped her conceive and write the story.

  She found it amusing that there was so much interest in this book and knew it was because of the success of her previous novel and the movie Beyond Paradise. She hadn’t given her agent, publisher or Travis, much information on Deceptions. Yet, they all waited anxiously for the completion of the story. Jessie promised to deliver a suspense mystery involving the murder of a singer’s husband with the singer’s lesbian lover later being accused of the murder.

  Jessie knew that Deceptions was a big step for her, and there were risks. She was finally writing about her own lifestyle, using her own name. Thirteen years earlier Jessie’s first book, a lesbian novel, was published using a pseudonym. After her third novel, she realized that she would never be recognized as a serious novelist and started writing suspense mysteries and thrillers using heterosexual characters rather than gay or lesbian characters. The response was phenomenal. She quickly attracted a serious agent and publisher. When her fourth novel was published, using her real name, reviewers endorsed her as a �
��fresh new voice.”

  Deceptions was a test. She knew the story was good, but still wondered if her followers were ready for lesbian heroines. Jessie knew that if she changed the gender of one of the main characters it would become a bestseller. While she contemplated doing so, she remained loyal to her initial vision.

  Around eight o’clock that evening Jessie broke from Deceptions. She picked up the paper in the printer’s tray and brought it to the kitchen. Jessie zapped a plate of leftovers and sat at the kitchen table with the lyrics. She thumbed through the lyrics until she found “Daniel’s Heart.”

  I’ll never forget the day I lost my heart.

  The tears, the pain, the rain.

  I said, “We’ll be together, again. Next time.

  I promise. It’ll be the same.”

  Just because you didn’t understand me

  doesn’t excuse the inference.

  We’re all the same on the inside,

  can’t you see beyond our difference?

  But instead, you choose intolerance,

  bigotry and hate.

  Eventually, you try,

  judge, and eradicate.

  Just because you didn’t understand me

  doesn’t justify the pain.

  We’re all the same on the inside,

  I tell you, we’re all the same.

  Each soul has its own journey,

  a trek simply unique.

  We all continue searching,

  love and respect we seek.

  I’ll never forget when you were torn from my arms.

  It was the day the angels came.

  After all this time, I promise,

  next time, it won’t be the same.

  Interesting, Jessie thought. “Try, judge, and eradicate.” Like the trial from my dream?

  Later that evening when Jessie climbed into bed, her mind was working overtime thinking about Taylor Andrews. Her song is everywhere I go…her lyrics relate to my dream. As she lay there, she recalled the People Magazine she had purchased at the grocery store a couple days earlier. Where did I put it? She remembered, got out of bed, went to the kitchen and pulled the magazine from the junk-mail pile.