Back to Salem

by Alex Marcoux

  “Generally, you can completely experience the other lifetime, you can see, hear, taste, feel and sense what’s going on.”

  “Are there any other ways to explore past lives?”

  “The only other way, and I don’t have a lot of experience with it, is—time travel.”

  “Time travel? Sounds like something from the movies. I’m not sure I’d buy into that theory.”

  “Then I won’t say much about it, except—there is a belief that all time is coexisting. The past, present and future occur at the same time. Of course, within each there is a past, present and future.”

  “And there is a safe way to journey to another time period?”

  “I have never done it, but I have read about it. Some believe that time is not measured on a two-dimensional scale, but a three-dimensional scale.” Carrie went to a bookshelf and removed a box of stones. She returned and placed a large crystal on the center of the coffee table in front of them.

  “Think of this crystal as your soul. Like an atom, it’s the nucleus of your being.” Carrie removed smaller rocks and randomly placed them around the crystal. “Our lifetimes are like the electrons that orbit an atom. All of our lifetimes make up our soul, not just this one, but our past lives and future lives.” Carrie pointed to a turquoise rock. “In our life we are experiencing this two-dimensional time, our past, present and future. The theory is that from the soul level, we can travel to other lifetimes. If this is something that would be of interest to you—I could suggest some books to read... if you like Einstein.”

  “I probably wouldn’t be interested for my personal experience. But it sounds like a fascinating idea for a book. If you have some recommended books, I’ll take their names.”

  Carrie glanced at the clock on the wall. It was ten minutes to two. “I hate to stop this discussion, but I have a reading at two o’clock. Perhaps you can think about some of the ideas I have given you.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate your time.”

  Carrie took the notepad from the coffee table and started writing. “I’ll write down some books. If you would like to have a past-life reading, I would refer you to someone else. Someone who hasn’t heard your story.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “If you would want a regression, I have training in that area. I charge $100 a session. Think about it and call if I can help.”

  Jessie left Carrie and headed for the bookstore. In the new age section, she picked up a number of books on past lives, regressions and even time travel.

  That evening Ellen and Jessie went to a restaurant in Pasadena for dinner. As they were seated at the table, Jessie heard the familiar tune by Taylor Andrews play on the restaurant speakers. She smiled. Moments later she felt the fullness in her chest.

  A waitress came to their table and introduced herself. “Hello. My name is Taylor and I will be your server this evening.”

  Taylor? Jessie mused.

  During dinner, Jessie shared with Ellen her meeting with Carrie. Ellen listened and smiled.

  “So what do you think? Are you going to have a reading? Or have a regression?”

  “I’m not sure. I picked up some books. I’ll read them and then decide.”

  “You’ve come a long way Jess.”

  “What do you mean?” Jessie asked.

  “When we first met, you were completely close-minded to metaphysics. You used to scoff at the subject of past lives. Now…you’re visiting with psychics and considering a past-life regression.”

  After dinner, Ellen and Jessie returned to Jessie’s house and were enjoying a glass of wine in the great room.

  When Ellen moved closer to Jessie on the couch, she asked, “Can we talk about us?”

  “What about us?”

  “What are we doing? I mean…what are the two of us doing with each other?”

  Jessie studied Ellen. “This is going to be one of those serious discussions, right?”

  “We’ve been seeing each other for 15 months, right? Where are we going?”

  “I thought we were having a nice relationship,” Jessie answered.

  “But we’ve been in the same position for over a year.”

  “And what position might that be?”

  “You know. We date a couple times a week. We sleep together. We both have our own places. We each have other friends, but there really isn’t an us.”

  Jessie knew Ellen was right. “Do you need more?”

  “Eventually I know I will. I just wonder if there ever would be more for the two of us.”

  “What do you think?”

  Ellen shook her head. “No. I don’t see our relationship evolving into anything beyond what it is.”

  “I don’t think it’d be fair if either one of us took the relationship farther than what it is. I mean…you do know that I love you, Ellen. Don’t you?”

  Ellen smiled warmly and nodded.

  “But I don’t believe that either one of us is in love with the other.” Jessie placed her glass on an end table and took hold of Ellen’s hands. “I am content with where we are. But if you need something more, then it wouldn’t be fair to continue this.”

  “I don’t want to be content,” Ellen started. “Content is a compromise. I want to be happy. Maybe we should take a break from each other and see other people.”

  For a moment, Jessie was saddened by the thought of losing Ellen. But she knew Ellen was right. “If you feel that strongly about it, Ellen, I will be supportive.”

  Ellen rose from the couch. “I think I should go.”

  “It’s almost ten o’clock, you don’t want to stay the night?” Jessie smiled, her brown eyes beaming mischievously. “We can spend one last evening together, can’t we?”

  Ellen laughed out loud, then approached Jessie and took her hands. “Jessie, you know if I stay tonight, I’ll end up coming back, and back and back. This will never end. No. I think it’ll be better if the two of us get on with our lives.” Ellen gently placed her lips on Jessie’s and they kissed goodbye.

  Then Ellen backed away and left. Jessie never saw the tears in Ellen’s eyes when she got in her car and drove away.

  As Jessie watched the tail lights of the Mustang disappear in the darkness, she sensed the loss of Ellen’s friendship. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of a ringing telephone.

  She shut the door behind her and bolted for the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hi, is Andrew there?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

  “I think you have the wrong number. There’s no Andrew here.”

  “Sorry.”

  Jessie heard dial tone. Andrew? Taylor Andrews.

  Jessie went to her study and looked at the stack of papers on her desk. She was so close to completing Deceptions. She needed something to take her mind off Ellen and decided to work on her manuscript. As she sat there though, she stared at the stack of books she had purchased that afternoon. She picked up the top book and studied the jacket. She wondered if she was becoming obsessed with Taylor Andrews. Jessie was having difficulties concentrating on the simplest things. She had a manuscript nearly finished and a movie producer asking for it, but she was having the hardest time getting anything accomplished.

  I’ve got to get this behind me, she decided. I have to figure out what this means. Then I can get on with my life.

  Chapter 5

  In two days Jessie had read the books on regressions and past lives. On the third day she called Carrie and scheduled a past-life regression.

  Jessie lay comfortably on a couch in Carrie’s office. Carrie directed Jessie in breathing and visualization exercises which brought her to a deep state of relaxation and peace. Then Carrie proceeded.

  “I’m going to count slowly from ten to one. When I get to one, you’ll be in a deeper state of hypnosis. When I get to one, you will be in another time, far back, before you came into your present body. Now, ten, nine…with each breath you will enter a deeper state of relaxation. Eight, seven…with each breath y
ou become closer to a bridge, a bridge to another dimension, a bridge to another time. Six, five…with each breath you are aware of a loving presence, your creator, a presence that will guide you. Four, three…with each breath you come closer to another time, a time that will help you understand the signs the universe is showing you. Two, one…

  “You have arrived at another time, a time—”

  “Oh my God…it hurts…so much pain,” Jessie cried.

  “Where’s the pain coming from?” Carrie asked.

  “My chest,” Jessie whispered.

  “Can you look and see why you’re in pain?”

  “Blood…lot’s of blood. I’m wounded…I’m weak. It hurts so much.”

  “Can you tell me who you are? Are you a man or a woman? Where are you? Is anyone with you?”

  Perspiration appeared on Jessie’s face. She curled into a fetal position, holding her chest. “It’s dark…I’m a man. Someone is here…God, it hurts.”

  Carrie was concerned that Jessie was in so much pain. “On the count of three, I want you to leave this time. I want you to go to another time, one that is less painful, one that can help you find the answers you are presently seeking. One…two…three.”

  With that, Jessie’s body no longer wrenched with pain. She straightened from the fetal position and relaxed. A calm replaced her expressions of distress.

  “That’s better,” Carrie took a deep breath. “Can you look at your feet and tell me what you see?”

  “I have shoes on…they’re black. I have black pants on…with a jacket. The buttons are high. Three buttons.”

  “That’s great. Where are you? Are you inside or outside? What are you standing on?”

  “I’m inside. The floor is wooden…It’s dark. I’m in a small house or cabin…there’s a large fireplace and…”

  “And what?”

  “Very old…”

  “You’re very old?”

  “No. The furnishings…and it’s not that they’re old but they’re from another time.”

  “Are you a man or a woman? What do you look like?”

  “There’s a mirror above the dresser.”

  “Good. Walk to the dresser, look into the mirror and tell me what you see.”

  A moment passed, then Jessie began. “It’s him.”

  “It’s who?”

  It’s the man from my dream. Jessie looked in the mirror, into Daniel Johnson’s brown eyes.

  He picked up the comb and combed his thick brown hair. Daniel stepped away from the mirror to admire his black suit. He tied the scarf-like tie around his neck, then approached the mirror again. A nick on his chin blemished his attractive face. He placed a blood-soiled towel on his chin, and held it in place. Satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, he set the towel down and nervously smiled into the mirror, inspecting his straight teeth.

  There was a knock at the solid wooden door and a man entered.

  “Aren’t you ready yet?” the man asked.

  “Yes. I just want everything to be perfect, John.” Daniel turned toward his best friend, “How do I look?”

  John walked in front of Daniel and inspected his suit. At six-foot-two, Daniel towered over John, almost six inches shorter. John was also dressed in a suit. He straightened Daniel’s tie. “You look fine. But we must go; we don’t want to be late.”

  The twenty-five-year-old turned and smiled at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes seemed to dance as they reflected the natural light from the window.

  “Come, Daniel. We must get you to the church.”

  The men left the two-room house. Outside, they were greeted with bright sunshine from a perfect May morning. A horse-drawn carriage was waiting in front of Daniel’s house. The men climbed into the carriage and John took the reins. Soon the friends were on their way.

  “Are you nervous?” John asked.

  “Somewhat.”

  “If you change your mind, you know it would be my honor to take your place.”

  “Now, wouldn’t you find pleasure in that? Are you still jealous she chose me?”

  “Absolutely,” John admitted. “Remember, I was to be the priest? I will never forgive myself for trading our costumes.”

  “I thank the Lord everyday my costume would not fit me,” Daniel laughed. He recalled the evening he met his future bride. She went to the costume ball with a vision that she would meet her future husband that night, and he would be dressed as a priest. Originally, John was to be the priest, and Daniel was to be the judge. But the judge’s costume did not fit Daniel and at the last minute, the two swapped outfits.

  John and Daniel had been friends since grammar school. Their friendship lasted even when John attended Harvard College. Daniel stayed in his hometown of Andover, Massachusetts, and opened a general store for the small farming community. After John graduated, he became a law apprentice in neighboring Salem Town.

  As the carriage approached the church, it became apparent that a group had gathered outside. Some people realized that the groom was approaching. Daniel recognized panic in his sister’s voice, “Hurry, we must hide her. They mustn’t see each other, it would be bad luck.”

  Daniel smiled as he spotted the back of his fiance’s head. She was hurried into the small church.

  Moments later, Daniel stood beside John at the front of the church, waiting at the altar for his bride-to-be. His heart raced and with knees locked he struggled with an onset of lightheadedness. But all his anxiety disappeared when his eyes met her crystal blue eyes that always could penetrate his soul. Rebecca smiled, her eyes fixed on Daniel as she walked to him at the altar.

  Moments later the minister pronounced the couple man and wife; their lips gently met sealing the promise of being with each other, forever.

  Daniel adored Rebecca. From the moment they met he instantly felt connected with her and chalked it up to love at first sight. Rebecca knew differently though, she realized Daniel was her life-mate and soul-mate. She realized they were meant to be together when they first met at the costume ball one year earlier. A precognitive vision the morning before the ball revealed she would meet her future husband that evening, dressed as a priest.

  Rebecca knew she was different from most even when she was a young child. She experienced visions, sight beyond natural vision. The clairvoyance increased in her teenage years. Through her visions, she learned that she was precognitive. She was able to see things before they happened. When she was 17, her maternal aunt introduced her to magical arts. Although she was initially cautious of the mysterious rituals, eventually she realized that they were just a different way of praying to the creator for life’s needs.

  Before Rebecca could marry Daniel, she knew she needed to share with him her spiritual beliefs. To solidify their relationship she had to risk losing him. One night, she brought him to her sacred place set up in the loft of her parent’s barn. An overturned crate with a white cloth covering served as her altar. She lit two candles that sat on either end, between them a chalice and an athame, a double-edged knife.

  Daniel picked up the athame. “What do you do with the knife?” he asked.

  Rebecca turned to another crate against the wall that housed other items. She picked up a rod and moved toward Daniel. “Like my wand, the athame is used to direct personal power. It helps focus energy during a ritual.”

  “What type of ritual?”

  “There are many different types of rituals, Daniel.”

  Daniel walked around the small table. There was a chill in the air. The creaking from the barn contributed to the uneasiness of the moment. An abrupt slam against the barn’s wall caused Daniel’s hair to rise on the back of his neck. Seconds later a large black bird appeared in the window of the loft. It sat there oddly, stared at the two then flew away.

  “Do you ever hurt or kill animals?” Daniel asked.

  Rebecca shook her head, her long dark hair shimmering from the light of the punched-tin lantern and candles. “No. I do not hurt any living thing,” she answe
red calmly.

  “We have never talked about religion before, Rebecca. I see you in church on Sundays. Do you believe in God?” He looked around and saw the caldron sitting on the other crate against the wall. “Are you a witch?” he asked calmly. “Do you worship Satan?”

  Rebecca put her wand back in the crate then turned to Daniel. She smiled, removed the knife from Daniel’s hands and placed it on the altar. Rebecca took Daniel’s hand and pulled him toward the haystack. “Come. Let’s sit here and talk.”

  They sat next to each other. “I do believe in a Creator. I believe there are good forces and there are evil forces. I believe that Satan is a very strong and a real entity, one to be feared and avoided.” Rebecca stared into Daniel’s eyes, hoping he would understand. “I do not worship Satan.

  “I go to your church on Sundays, mostly to protect myself. To give people the impression that I am a Christian.”

  “But you are not?”

  “I respect many of your church’s beliefs. But no…I am not a Christian.” Rebecca knew she was treading on dangerous ground. “You asked me last night to marry you. I cannot marry you unless you know and respect who I am. That is why I am sharing this with you.”

  Rebecca remained silent and waited for a response from Daniel.

  “I don’t understand. I know you are not evil. I know you’re a good person; it’s obvious the way you live your life and render to others. But I don’t understand these things you do.”

  “May I explain?”

  “Please do.”

  “When you want something, like prosperity, love, health, you go to church and ask your God in your prayers. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Daniel, I do the same. I just do not pray to your God.”

  “Which god do you pray to?”

  “It’s actually a goddess, but I don’t pray to just one entity. I pray to many forces. What I learned from my aunt is that we can use magical abilities to manifest what we need.”

  “How so?”

  “All around us is energy. In witchcraft we learn how to move this energy around us and within us to manifest powerful thoughts that create positive changes.”