Frank seemed a bit reluctant to get involved with this line of questioning but finally said, “Franklin.”
“Your middle name?”
Again reluctance, longer this time, no answer offered.
“Oh no, is it embarrassing? Is it...Is it...Did your parents give you a girl's name for your middle name. Franklin Lesley Tilton?” She was enjoying kidding Frank and continued. Is it Franklin Evelyn Tilton?” She was laughing out of control.
Frank turned to her, made the sign of a cross on his chest and said, “Cross your heart and hope to die if you laugh?”
She became serious. “Oh God, it is something embarrassing. I'm sorry for pressing the question. I--
Frank interrupted. “I have two middle names.”
“What? Oh, I get it. Two embarrassing middle names. I'll drop the subject.”
“Delano and Roosevelt are my middle names.
Lynn's jaw dropped. “Wow! Franklin Delano Roosevelt Tilton. No wonder Allison thinks you have a future in politics. But you said she's always trying to introduce you into the Republican circles on the North shore?
“She never uses my middle names while introducing me. Always just Frank Tilton.
“Your parents must have been fans of Roosevelt.”
“They always said that they thought he was the best president ever. Their parents were all loyal Democrats and told them all about Roosevelt. Anyway, I apologize for saying the Razor's Edge is a man's book. You're definitely on an adventure right now. You sure you're not reincarnated from Amelia Earheart?”
She explained about her choice of The Razor's Edge as her favorite book. “It's the philosophy, the Tibetan philosophy that everything you need is already right up here.” She tapped her head with her index finger.
Frank found himself believing in the obscure myth that you could actually care for a woman more for her mind than for her body.
Lynn asked, “Anything paranormal ever happen to you before the dream?”
“I was born in Salem.”
“You're a witch!”
“Only lived there a year. Didn't have time to join a coven.”
Frank felt as attached to Lynn as if he'd known her for years instead of Allison. He felt comfortable with her and wondered about this past lives together thing, whether there was anything to it. “Any other favorites that might relate to our current situation?”
She thought for a moment then said, “My favorite song maybe. “It's an oldie. 'A Summer Song' by Chad and Jeremy.”
“Sixties isn't it?”
Lynn nodded.
I've heard it. It's good,” said Frank.
“Ever really listen to the words?” she said. “It's kind of haunting, about lost love and rebirth of love.” When she said the word love, she must have felt a warm feeling, a flush, because soon after that Frank noticed that she was blushing a bit.
She rescued herself from the blush by saying. “What about all time favorite works of art?” She didn't give Frank a chance to answer and said, “Mine's that painting by Marc Chagall, the one with the man and woman floating above the town.” She asked if Frank knew which painting she was referring to and he said he had seen a picture of the painting.
Lynn continued. “It always intrigued me. It seemed that Chagall was portraying the spirits of the man and woman, that they were together even after death, like that was the message he was trying to convey, not just to shock the senses like most modern art.
They were quiet for a while, then Frank started humming 'A Summer Song,' the song that Lynn had said was her favorite. He seemed a bit self-conscious about it so Lynn gave him an approving smile. “Thank you for entertaining me,” she said.
He stopped humming and said, “Better than 99 bottles of beer on the wall?”
“Speaking of questions, it's too bad we don't have some kind of Jeopardy game with us” she said.
“A Jeopardy fan, huh?”
“Right. The answer is...Southford She parodied the Jeopardy theme music while Frank searched for the question.
“What is some damn place in New York that I'd rather not have to be going to.”
“Come on now,” she said. “You must have at least a small amount of curiosity along with that large amount of dread.”
“A bit,” Frank replied, already imagining what they might encounter there. “A bit.”
The Massachusetts state line got farther behind them and so did the secure existence that they had in eastern Massachusetts.
Frank wondered what it would be like when they got back to Massachusetts and back to work. How would their trip to New York together affect them. What would they learn. How would it change them? Would it be dangerous? Maybe he shouldn't even have brought Lynn. Was it possible that they might not even be coming back? He'd play it safe. He'd be careful about looking into things out in New York until he knew it was safe.
“Maybe we can take a side trip if we finish with Southford quickly,” he suggested. “Maybe hike up one of the Adirondacks., maybe go to Lake Placid. Great scenery. I've seen pictures.”
“Yeah, if things in Southford go quickly.”
Frank was thinking past Southford because of the possibilities that ran through his mind, drawing ever closer to the town. He wondered if Lynn had the same thoughts about what they'd encounter there. Might they even be in danger.
CHAPTER 10
The sun was blasting them in the eyes from the horizon as their journey came to an end. The sign said Southford Next Exit.
“You know, Lynn, I've had the strangest feeling all day that if I threw away the map at the beginning of this trip and just started driving, my mind would have taken me here. I feel like there's some kind of actual link between me and this place.” He shrugged. “The only way that I can describe it is as if there was a long rubber band and I would just go in the direction that would lessen the tension on it and I'd end up where I'm intended to be But what I mean is that I don't feel that pulling feeling that I've felt so badly. It's sort of a relief, but now I feel a different feeling.”
Her eyes were focused on him as she listened. “What feeling?”
“Butterflies!”
“That's understandable.”
A huge sign with gold leaf deep-relief carved lettering stood at the side of the road. 'Welcome to Southford, New York,' it said.
“Nice sign,” said Lynn. “Back home they've got some metal sign with stick on lettering at the edge of town. With a few bullet holes in it too. This place must have some money.”
Frank just nodded. They entered the populated area “Nice-looking town,” Lynn commented.
They passed well-maintained homes with well manicured lawns. Nothing looked run down. Not even close.
As they drove, Lynn said, “I wonder if there's a slum area. I haven't seen anything that looks less than affluent-.”
“There isn't,” Frank said.
“What do you mean? How do you know that?”
“I don't know.” He shook his head then said, “I just have that feeling.” He tapped on the steering wheel. “Ah, it's time to think about where to stay I think. Right? Isn't it?” He didn't look at her.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I've got an aunt that lives in Southford. I'll be staying with her. Where are you going to stay?” She flashed a playful smile.
“An aunt, huh?”
“Just kidding.”
'There was a motel back a little way on the thruway. Probably big rooms, lots of space.”
“I'm so excited about being here and this whole situation that I don't think I could sleep anyway.”
“Me too. Let's get a room, get something to eat and spend the rest of the evening in the lounge. After that we'll both just collapse anyway.”
The first thing Lynn did after arriving at their room was to open her suitcase and put a photo of her cousin Karen on the dresser. She looked at Frank and said, “Everything that I do in my life I do for two people now, since Karen didn't get the chance.”
Frank said,
“And maybe her spirit might be looking out for you at the same time.”
“I know. I just wish I was achieving more with my life. Karen might have done better than I have so far.”
“Frank replied, “All we can do is to do our best.” Lynn just nodded, looking at Karen's photo.
After settling in then, unpacking, trying out the comfy chairs, checking out the mass-produced artwork on the walls, gazing out the window at the view, looking through the welcome packet of brochures from area businesses, and examining the door locks as a proper Bostonian would, they decided to go down to the restaurant.
While waiting for their meal to arrive, Frank amused Lynn by playing staring games. She smiled and played back.
“They say,” she said, “that if you look into a cat's eyes at just the right time when conditions are right, and if you can get the cat to hold your gaze, you can see a fairyland populated by elves...a land of magic.”
“A link to another world?” Her gaze became unfocused as she appeared to be thinking back. “I had a pet cat once and she was hit and killed by a car. When I looked into her eyes before I closed them, they looked different, I mean not just the ceasing of movement or lack of blinking. There seemed to be something missing, something more than just the end of life in the body. They seemed empty, something that had been there wasn't anymore.”
Frank contributed.”Some people's eyes are like that all the time. You look into one person's eyes and there seems to be a whole universe in there, activity, thought, awareness. A brain and mind in action, but more than that, like you suggested, a link to the universe. Other people seem to have nothing. You look into their eyes and feel nothing and see nothing but the surface of their eyes. It's like no one's in there, like they were born without a soul.”
“Or without a link to the universe?” she said. “Their brain is sort of disconnected from the power source and just running on weak batteries.”
“Yeah, like the morons who weave in and out and tailgate to get somewhere one second ahead of you.”
She smiled. “I love it when you come to a red light and you pull up right alongside of them.”
“And then your lane moves faster and you're ahead of them again.”
“Makes my day,” she said.
They were silent for a moment, then he looked deeply into her eyes, and imagined that he saw into the depths of a crystal ball, or a fortune teller's puddle of ink in a dish, or a witch ball in someone's garden that you stare into to learn the secrets of the cosmos.
“Do you see a universe in there?”she said. “or just a mountain of bills and daily concerns?” He looked into his eyes even as she asked the question.
“I do see something in there,” said Frank. “Awareness I'd say, like you know that there's more to the world than meets the eye.” He smiled. “And what do you see in mine?”
I see intelligence...kindness ..compassion.”
“What about the universe?” he said.
“It's there...it's there. Just a lot of earthly things blocking my view of it.”
“Mortgage payments? Car payments?” he suggested.
“I think that when I look into your eyes, I feel as if I'm looking into my own mind, into something like a mirror. Isn't that strange?”
“Maybe...and maybe not so strange. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.”
She wanted to reach over and take his hand in hers, to let him know that was how she felt too, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She wanted him to say something like, There's more reasons why Allison isn't here than just her lack of interest in psychic phenomena. She waited for Frank to say something more.
CHAPTER 11
Back in the room, fatigue from the trip over came Lynn. She closed her eyes and was dreaming within minutes. The scene was a hill in a rolling countryside. Trees at her back rustled in the morning breeze. The touch of an unfamiliar fabric against her legs caused her to look down and to discover that the dress she wore belonged to another time.
Footsteps approached from behind. A hand on her shoulder drew her attention to the man standing next to her. When she looked to see who it was, she saw that there were many people around, dressed in clothing that also seemed from another time. The man put his arm around her. He was dressed in a blue uniform trimmed with yellow braid, a sword hanging at his side, She realized that this was her husband, or at least whoever, or whatever it is that puts dreams together wanted him to be. But who was she? The officer spoke and his face which had not been clearly visible took shape. Like a TV warming up, revealing the picture that accompanies the sound.
“I got my orders at last. The Army of the Potomac.” He looked away and spoke softly. “Two days.”
“You're missing this battle. Does that bother you?”
Encouraged by the way she took the news, he allowed his enthusiasm to show. “I worry that the war will be over before I even see action. After we drive the Rebels back to Richmond it will be over.”
She watched him as his face became clearer. He gazed off into the distance to the valley where the two armies, filled with similar enthusiasm were about to collide. Townsfolk, officials, military leaders, politicians, journalists, and wives and children with picnic lunches gathered all along the hillside expecting to watch their army trounce the rebels.
Lynn realized, or the dream allowed her to realize that she was dreaming,. Taking advantage of her knowledge of lucid dreams, dreams in which you realize that you are dreaming, she made the dream let the man's face resolve itself. The face was Frank's. Then she made a mirror appear in her hand and saw that the woman's face was, as she had suspected, her own. She wanted many questions answered but as is the case with lucid dreams, she had trouble maintaining lucidity, having trouble keeping the thought in her mind that this was a dream. She lost the fight and the dream reverted to a normal dream again, one in which she wasn't aware that she was dreaming.
She asked the officer. “What if it isn't over soon? I get frightened knowing that you may be in one of these battles some day.”
The man said nothing, but a look of love that could cross the ages filled his eyes. Then he held her tightly.
“What would I do if something happened to you?” she said
“We'll always be together,” he said. “No matter what happens to one of us. Always together.”
She wondered if the certainty that she heard in his voice came from some timeless knowledge or just from love.
A volley of cannon drew their attention into the distance as a line of artillery opened fire. Smoke, dust and a distant sound of thousands of voices yelling signaled the start of the battle.
Lynn was awakened by the agitated movements of Frank in the next bed. His body twitched as if his muscles were fired by a thousand uncoordinated electrical impulses. Her first impression was that she was witnessing an epileptic seizure. She tried to clear her mind, still foggy from the evening of night clubbing and still filled with thoughts of her dream. She tried to think of what she was supposed to do. Instead, she just yelled at him. “Frank! Wake up! Frank!”
Frank's spirit was halfway between two bodies. He heard the same voices as before. 'Mr. Lowell, stay with us.'
He remembered Lynn's suggestion about lucid dreaming. He mustered all the courage he could and let his spirit be pulled the rest of the way toward the voices and entered the body of Lawrence Lowell. He opened his eyes. Around him stood men in lab coats, watching him as if in expectation of something happening.
Frank tried to speak.”Where...am I?” He had difficulty controlling his mouth, tongue, vocal cords. The usual impulses from his brain that produced speech were not having the same results. The feeling was of just having left the dentist with a jaw full of anesthetic, only much more pronounced.
“Mr. Lowell,” said one of the lab-coated individuals. “I probably look a bit older.” He turned to an assistant and said, “A bit older! It's been forty years. And now we've done it!” Then back to Frank or Lawrence Lowell, “it's Mike Bostwick,
sir. Do you recognize me?” But Frank wouldn't have recognized him even if this man was his brother. His vision was blurry, his thoughts were a blur, even his sense of smell was off. There was a scent that kept drifting in and out of the nasal equivalent of focus. His hearing was like a varying Doppler effect, the pitch of the voices changing. His spirit was not in phase with the new body, sort of out of alignment., a feeling of drifting in and out an inch or two, back and forth, not quite locked in.
Figuring that he'd better take advantage of this feeling before he was stuck here, he closed his eyes and willed himself to return to his body. There was an immediate feeling of massive G-forces which stopped as he left the body of Lawrence Lowell. Then the feeling of being shaken. Lynn tried to awaken him, then tried CPR, not knowing what to do. Frank opened his eyes.
“Oh Frank, you're back! You scared the hell out of me. You were dead. What happened? I used CPR. I'm pretty sure you weren't breathing and I couldn't find a pulse.” She sat back breathless and exhausted.
“I was there again. I let it happen. I saw them...sort of. I spoke to them...sort of. But I panicked and came back.” He stopped to catch his breath and to calm down. “Dead? Are you sure I wasn't breathing?”
“I didn't think you were. If you were I couldn't detect it. Maybe it was more like a coma. How did it feel?”
Frank just shook his head, then said, “It's tiring And I wouldn't recommend it on a hang over either.” He took hold of her shoulders. We've got to find this place...where I was. I know it exists. Let's get up right now and get an early start...ask around.” While they got ready to leave Frank filled Lynn in on the experience and she told him about her dream and what the federal officer in her dream had said.
The Ice House Page 6