A Future and a Hope

by David Mathews

  The double bed with its worn brass head and foot boards, the nightstand with its small reading lamp, the dresser with its arched-top mirror, the small table with its lone wooden chair, all were left exactly as they had been when Ellie lived there.

  Caleb got out of his car and walked up to the apartment. He did not relish another confrontation with Mr. Smith, but Ellie had assured him that as long as she was there, her father would likely behave himself.

  Caleb wasn’t so sure. The man had been getting drunk a lot lately. He had not been able to keep his daughter away from Caleb. No telling what frame of mind he’d be in today.

  To his relief, Ellie answered the door. He was glad to see her bags packed and ready in the middle of the room.

  “Hi, come on in. I’m ready to go.” She noticed his hesitation. “It’s all right.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “He’s in the kitchen sitting at the table drinking. But don’t worry. I don’t think he’s in any condition to walk out here.”

  Caleb caught her wink and grinned back at her. “Okay.”

  He looked at the pile in the middle of the living room floor. His lone medium sized soft shell suitcase would have plenty of company on the four-hour trip to Baxter.

  Ellie surveyed her bags. “If you wouldn’t mind grabbing the larger one, I can manage the rest.”

  “Sure. No problem.” He headed for the pile.

  “Oh, shoot!” Ellie exclaimed, snapping her fingers. “I forgot to pack my makeup. It’s all still on the dresser up in my bedroom.”

  “What do you need that for?” he teased. “You don’t need to cover up perfection.”

  Ellie laughed and gave him a playfully sarcastic eye. “Ha ha. You should do stand up at the Improv.” She patted his arm. “I’ll be only a minute.” Then she hurried up the stairs and disappeared around the corner.

  Caleb picked up the suitcase and turned toward the front door.

  “And jus’ where d’ya think you’re goin’?” The gravelly voice of John Smith stopped him in his tracks.

  Caleb turned around and saw Ellie’s father in the kitchen doorway, staring at him. He was leaning against the jam for support, clearly drunk as a skunk.

  “Oh, hello, Mr. Smith,” Caleb politely greeted her father. “Sorry to have bothered you. We’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

  There was no way he was going to leave Ellie alone with the inebriated man, even for a second. John looked at him through bloodshot eyes. He had not shaved in two or three days. His hair was uncombed and his shirt was half tucked into a beltless pair of dirty khaki shorts. He was shoeless, sporting a pair of stretched-out black socks that had succumbed to gravity. Caleb could smell the alcohol from where he stood.

  “I have somethin’ for ya.” Caleb detected a sly, devilish grin on the man’s ashen face. “And yer not gonna leave here until I give it to ya!” He lurched away from the doorway, nearly losing his balance in the process. Steadying himself, he stumbled toward Caleb.

  Caleb set down the suitcase to free up his hands, just in case. “We were just leaving.” He held up his open palms in a show of conciliation. “Like I told you last time we spoke, I have no quarrel with you anymore.”

  John maneuvered around the pile of travel bags and shuffled up to him. Caleb braced to defend himself. His open hands transformed into balled fists.

  “I want you to have this!” John reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a crumpled white piece of paper. It had once been a business size envelope, now torn in half, and sealed with a small piece of cellophane tape. He held it out with an unsteady hand.

  Without flinching, Caleb glanced at it, keeping a wary eye on the man.

  Ellie’s father grew impatient. “Well don’t jus’ stand there like a danged fool! Take it, boy. I’m givin’ it to ya.”

  Caleb put out his left hand and cautiously took the envelope from him. His right hand was still clenched. Before he could reply, John turned and fell over Ellie’s bags.

  Frozen in place, all he could do was watch as the man rather comically extricated himself from the obstacles in his path, staggered back to the kitchen, and disappeared through the doorway. He’d expected the man to at least take a swing at him. He’d been ready for that.

  This was a total surprise. As he looked down at the crumpled envelope in his hand, he realized that his heart was pounding fiercely in his chest.

  What was John Smith wanting to give him? His mind raced like the wind.

  Had he put poison in the envelope? Anthrax?

  Deadly laced heroin?

  He gingerly probed the contents of the envelope with his fingers. There was something hard inside.

  An explosive cap, or incendiary device, perhaps? He should call the police!

  Caleb, you’ve been watching too many murder mysteries, he chided himself.

  He was being ridiculous. The man wouldn’t do anything that stupid. Not in his own living room.

  Or would he? Hadn’t he threatened something worse than a black eye if Caleb continued seeing his daughter? And now, fueled by an alcoholic mindset, what if he really was that desperate? Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to call the police after all. Just in case.

  He switched the envelope to his right hand so he could reach for the cell phone in his left pants pocket. In doing so, the tape popped loose on the envelope, and he felt the contents slide out into his palm.

  Panic shot through him like a bolt of lightning. He looked at the object in his hand. It was not coated in some mysterious white powder, nor did it resemble some type of explosive device. It was metallic and round and shiny.

  It was a ring.

  Ellie’s engagement ring.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DÉJÀ VU ALL OVER AGAIN

  CALEB PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY of his parent’s modest cape cod three and a half hours after leaving Atlanta. He shut off the engine and glanced over at his passenger.

  “You ready to meet my family?”

  “Do you think they’ll like me?” Ellie sounded unsure of herself.

  Caleb smiled confidently. “I think they’re going to love you.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Trust me.”

  They got out of the car and together walked up the curved brick pathway to the front door.

  “Do I look alright?” Ellie brushed off her blouse and ran her hand through her hair.

  Caleb stepped back and gave her the once over. “Ellie, if you looked any better, I couldn’t stand it.” Her laughter steadied her nerves.

  The front door opened.

  “Caleb!” His father stepped onto the stoop and grabbed him in a bear hug. “Good to see you, son.”

  “Dad,” Caleb began, once he’d extricated himself from his father’s embrace, “I’d like you to meet Ellie Thompson. Ellie, this is my father.”

  “Hello, Ellie. I’m glad to meet you.” His father smiled and offered his hand to the beauty on his doorstep.

  “Hello, Mr. Sawyer.” Ellie took his hand and returned his smile. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you and your family.”

  “Please, come in.” Caleb’s father held open the door and the two stepped into the living room. His mother and Cassie stood up from where they’d been sitting on the sofa.

  After the introductions, Caleb and Ellie sat down on the love seat and his father sunk into his overstuffed recliner.

  “Did you have a nice trip?” his mother asked Ellie.

  “Yes,” Ellie replied. She shot a sideways glance at Caleb and smiled shyly. “I think we talked the whole way down here.”

  It was that same shyness that had greatly contributed to her being irresistible to him from the beginning.

  “Good conversation always makes a road trip go faster,” his mother acknowledged.

  Caleb interjected with a sheepish grin. “That, and the fact that I pushed it a bit on the interstate.”

  His father raised an eyebrow and gave him a knowing look, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “It’s that Camaro.” Shak
ing his head, he turned to Ellie. “That car is going to generate a sizable increase in revenue for the Georgia State Patrol.”

  It was dusk when they turned onto East Pine Street. The sun cast a faint orange glow in the rear view mirror as Caleb parked in front of the old Victorian. He popped the trunk and went around to the back of the car to get Ellie’s bags. Reaching in, he rummaged through the mess. He was definitely not a neat packer.

  “Here, you take these. I’ll get the rest, okay?” With his head still in the trunk, Caleb handed a couple of smaller bags back to Ellie, who was standing behind him.

  “No way,” she exclaimed, without taking the luggage.

  “What?” Puzzled by her response, he stood up, banging his head on the open trunk lid. “Ow!”

  He rubbed the top of his skull and glanced back at her. She stared at the house. “What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever seen an old house before?” he teased.

  Ellie ignored him. “I don’t believe this.”

  “Don’t believe what?”

  She grabbed his arm. “Caleb, it’s . . . it’s the house in my dreams!”

  Caleb’s heart skipped a beat. He pretended to be surprised. “Really?”

  “Yes!” she replied excitedly. “See, there’s the wrap around porch, and the gingerbread trim, and . . . and there’s the porch swing. Caleb, it’s exactly like the house I saw in the dream I told you about.” She suddenly looked bewildered. “How weird is that?”

  “Coincidence?” he suggested with a shrug, unable to come up with anything better.

  “Coincidence? That’s impossible. Okay, I’ll grant that you could have found a similar house for me to stay in, but to find one exactly as I dreamed it? Come on. That can’t be a coincidence.” She suddenly looked confused. “Can it?”

  Caleb avoided her question. “Don’t most Victorian style homes have veranda porches and gingerbread trim? I suspect many have porch swings out front, too. Anyway, I knew you liked old houses, and Miss Cora had one with a furnished room. So I made arrangements for you to stay here. She used to have a boarder living with her, but it just so happened that the room was available this weekend.”

  His attempt to redirect her attention away from her dream house succeeded.

  “That was very thoughtful of you.” She smiled flirtatiously at him. “And very sweet.”

  Caleb discovered she could still make him blush.

  They grabbed the luggage and made their way to the front door. The bell’s tones, though not as rich and resonant as they once had been, still brought back memories to Caleb. Childhood memories of when he’d been barely able to reach the button, as well as more recent memories of when he’d rung that bell to call on Ellie.

  It was some time before Miss Cora answered the door. When she did, Caleb realized the reason for the delay. The kindly widow appeared tired and frail. Her wrinkled face was thinner, her hair whiter, and her shoulders more stooped than when he’d last seen her. To support and steady herself, she leaned heavily on her cane, which was no longer the knotty pine stick she’d had for years, but an aluminum shaft with a foam rubber handle and a four pronged base.

  But there was nothing feeble about her eyes. They still had the flash and sparkle of a woman thirty years her junior. “Come in. Come in. I’ve been expecting you.”

  They stepped into the foyer of the old house. Caleb looked around, catching a glimpse of the living room through the wide doorway on the left. Nothing had changed.

  “It’s good to see you again, Miss Cora.” Caleb gave her a gentle hug. Then he turned to the house guest. “Miss Cora, I’d like you to meet Ellie Thompson. Ellie, this is Mrs. Williams.”

  “Miss Cora,” she scolded, wagging a bony finger at him. “It’s Miss Cora to my friends.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Ellie. “And it’s Miss Cora to everyone else, too. Sooner or later, we all become friends anyway, so why not get used to it from the start?”

  Ellie laughed as she shook the widow’s thin hand. “It’s really nice to meet you, Mrs. Will—Miss Cora.”

  “And it’s really nice to see you, young lady.” Miss Cora shut and locked the door.

  Caleb was relieved that she didn’t say again. He’d been worried that Ellie’s former landlady might accidentally slip up and forget that she was supposed to be acting like she had never met her former boarder before.

  “I’m sorry we’re a bit late,” Caleb apologized. “We stopped at Mom and Dad’s before coming over here.”

  “No need for apologies, young man. I imagine you’re both pretty tired after such a long trip. But before I show Miss Ellie to her room, perhaps you’d like some warm cookies and a glass of milk?” She turned to Ellie and smiled. “I do hope you like gingersnaps, my dear.”

  The next morning, Caleb left his parents’ house for Miss Cora’s. She had insisted he come over and join her and Ellie for breakfast, and there was no way he was going to miss that.

  After a wonderful meal of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice, Miss Cora invited her guests to set a spell out on the front porch. Caleb sat with Ellie on the porch swing, and Miss Cora eased herself into the wooden rocker.

  “What a beautiful morning,” the old woman began. “Just another reason why Henry and I picked South Georgia to settle down in.”

  “Yes, it is.” Ellie placed her hand on the arm of the swing and noticed the marking there. “Somebody carved a heart in your swing.”

  Miss Cora glanced quickly at Caleb before replying. “Why, yes. My husband, Henry, did that for our anniversary one year. At first, I told him it would ruin the swing, but now I’m glad he did it. It brings back a lot of happy memories we shared together.”

  Ellie traced the initials with her fingers. “H.W. and C.W. That’s so sweet.”

  Caleb suddenly realized that the artwork on his side of the swing was also in plain view.

  “You have such a lovely house,” Ellie complimented her hostess.

  “Why thank you, my dear. I’ve enjoyed living here all these years. God has been very good to me.”

  “I could see myself living in a place like this someday,” Ellie announced, as she glanced around at the gingerbread trim on the porch. “And I’d have a swing just like this one. It reminds me of the one my mother and I used to have when I was a little girl.”

  “There are lots of precious memories attached to that swing,” Miss Cora replied. The old woman got a faraway look in her eyes, and was soon lost to reminiscing.

  Caleb silently prayed that she wouldn’t say too much.

  “Henry and I spent nearly every evening together out here,” she began. “And after he went to glory, I’d sit and read my Bible there. It’s been a very popular spot down through the years. Why, even Caleb and the girl who used to live here spent a lot of time on that swing.”

  “What did Miss Cora mean when she mentioned you and the girl who used to live there?” Ellie wondered, as they drove away from the house. “Was she your girlfriend or something?”

  “Um, I think she meant that we were just two of the many people who’ve spent time there. Not necessarily together.” His conscience made its presence felt.

  “Oh. She made it sound like you’ve been over there a lot.”

  “I have, I guess. Over the years. My family used to visit the Williams all the time. They were very hospitable people. Miss Cora still is, obviously.”

  “She’s such a thoughtful person. It must have exhausted her making breakfast for us. But it was so good.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been to Miss Cora’s without food being involved in some form or another.”

  Ellie laughed. “Like last night. Cookies and milk. She’s got a real heart for people, doesn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she sure does.”

  They drove in silence for a while.

  “Caleb,” Ellie turned toward him. “Do you know what déjà vu is?”

  “Sure.” He gave her a quick glance. “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. It jus
t seems like I’ve been experiencing it a lot recently.”

  “How recently?”

  “Oh, the past three or four months, I’d say. Like when we ran into each other and went to lunch at that little sidewalk cafe. I had the strangest feeling that I already knew you. I didn’t mention it then, but it kind of made me uncomfortable.”

  “I remember you telling me that.” He grinned. “Do I still make you uncomfortable now?”

  “What? Oh no. I didn’t mean you personally. I meant the idea of feeling that way around someone I’ve just met. It usually takes me a while to warm up to people. You know, trust issues and everything. Because of my past.”

  “I get that. But why bring it up now?”

  “Because the more I’m with you, the more I have those feelings. Like when we got to Miss Cora’s. I felt like I’d seen her house before.”

  “That’s because it reminded you of the one in your dreams.”

  “I know. But it doesn’t stop there. I had the same feeling when Miss Cora showed me to my room last night. I felt like I’d been in it before. And just now, when we were sitting on her porch swing . . . that same sensation again. And then there’s Miss Cora herself. Doesn’t she remind you of the old woman in my dreams?”

  Caleb grinned impishly. “I wouldn’t know. It wasn’t my dream, remember?”

  Ellie laughed. “No, of course not. But isn’t it weird, though?” She repositioned herself in the seat. “And then there’s the coincidences on top of all that.”

  “What coincidences?”

  “Well, like you mistaking me for another Ellie in the elevator. And you seeing my paintings in that hotel lobby. And us both liking small towns and . . . and tenderloin sandwiches.”

  “Tenderloin sandwiches?” Caleb laughed. “What’s so unusual about that? Lots of people like tenderloin sandwiches. If they didn’t, places like Edwards would go out of business.”

  “You know what I mean. It’s not each individual coincidence that makes this so strange, it’s the sum of them. They all add up to one thing, near as I can figure out.”