Lost in the Mist

by Wanda C. Keesey

  I prefer to have Brian hold me.

  Hearing the rustle of paper under her feet, Connie realized that she was standing on the charcoal rubbings. Gingerly stepping across them she sat on the edge of the bed.

  An invitation to a wedding held over a century ago, and it was one she knew she would try to attend, if it really took place.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Twenty

  The cloud darkened slowly fading as if it was never there. Kone was gone. Victoria was alone again. Was Kone the spirit of Evangeline, her dear dead sister?

  It makes no difference who she is or where she comes from. She will be by my side as I make my vow to Evan and he to me.

  Not for the first time, Victoria felt the stir of doubt. Would she be able to make Evan happy? Would she be a proper hostess to his important friends? But these weren't the things she feared most. There is the bedchamber...

  Even at sixteen, Victoria knew she was a better seamstress or cook than many older women. She learned to put up fruit and vegetables as soon as she was tall enough to see over the table. She helped Lacy make the house bread every week. And they worked together on the laundry, and made lye soap twice a year. She kept the house accounts, under her mother's supervision, and did the shopping. Victoria knew she was able to run the house. It was the unknown that frightened her.

  A soft tap on the door and her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts. “Victoria, Evan is in the parlor."

  "I'll be right down.” It was too late for tea and too early for supper. Try as she might, Victoria couldn't remember if Evan had spoken of this visit. It mattered not; perhaps he wanted to be near her as much as she wanted to be with him. That final thought spurred her to smooth her dress and check her hair before going to meet her beloved.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Twenty-One

  The teenager wore a pink dress with a high neckline and fitted bodice. The long skirt covered her shoes. She carried a white book. She faded to be replaced by an older version of the same girl, almost a woman, dressed in a royal blue gown, perhaps preparing for an evening out with a male companion. Again the vision faded to be replaced by a young woman mature beyond her years. Her dress of rough cloth and dull color fit the task she was bent on. She leaned over a low cot bearing the body of a man. Her skilled fingers removed a cloth bandage and washed the open wound, covering it again with fresh strips of material. When she turned toward Connie, she was the old woman from the bus. A smile cracked the wrinkled face. Her mouth moved, but the air was silent. Connie didn't have to hear the words in her ears, she heard them.

  "Learn from the past. Trust your heart. Be happy."

  The old woman vanished.

  Was she tripping? Was she lost in the misty fog of time? No, not this time, this time she was sleeping. Brian was near. Yes, she was safe.

  Waking from the dream, Connie held onto the threads of its memory. Victoria. She was in the dream. No, she was the dream. Connie opened her eyes as she realized that she had seen the stages of Victoria's life, from teenager to old woman. She was the old woman on the bus, a spirit, like Harvey at the church. She had forgotten her until now.

  A ghost? Why not? She traveled through time. Wasn't that what she was to the past? A spirit from another time?

  So Victoria would live to a very old age.

  Connie swung her legs over the side of the bed. The journal slid from her lap where she had left it when she'd dozed. Catching a glimpse of the alarm she saw that it was only a few minutes before five. A lot had happened in the hour since Brian left.

  "Are you there?” Connie knocked on the open connecting door.

  Brian stepped into the bathroom almost at once. “What's happened?” He quickly went to her, looking both ways around the room cluttered with papers.

  "I tripped and had a dream. I think it was more than a dream ... well let me tell you about it. I want to know what you think."

  They were still sitting on the sofa, deep in conversation when Val called up the stairs that supper was being served.

  "How will you go back for the wedding?” Brian asked as they walked through the parlor.

  "I don't know. Maybe Joe will have some ideas."

  * * * *

  "Concentrating might be enough, especially if Victoria thought about you at the same time—can't hurt to try.” Joe took a sip of his coffee before putting his cup on the table between the two facing sofas.

  "I may not have the chance to tell her.” Connie turned the ring on her finger as she tried to think of a possible solution. It was a “catch twenty-two". She needed to go into the past to tell Victoria to help her go into the past. “I'll have to try it without her."

  "My guess is that next to her new husband, you'll be first on her mind, and since a new bride in any age needs a lot of support, you might even come before the groom,” Tracey offered.

  "If you can pull this off, maybe you'll be able to find a way to control the return, too.” Brian reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  Connie could hear the voices of her friends through the gathering mist. “I'm here Connie, don't worry, I'll stay with you.” Brian said.

  "That was fast...” Tracey's voice was lost in the void.

  "Does it alwa...” Joe's words trailed in time.

  * * * *

  Connie saw Victoria leaning against the front door, her hands pressed to her face. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

  "Your father...” Connie started to suggest hearing voices coming from the doctor's waiting room.

  "NO! No one can see me.” Victoria's wide eyes, red and brimming with tears searched the hall as she put a hand on the wall to steady herself. She moved toward the steps, her whispered words interrupted by gasping sobs. “Mama ... kitchen. Maxi ... out.... to my room."

  Once they were behind the closed door, Connie moved close to Victoria. She wanted to hold her, but knew she couldn't. “I'm glad I'm able to come to you. Are you hurt? Tell me what happened.” Connie waited till Victoria could talk.

  Going to the wash basin, Victoria poured some water and pressed a damp cloth to her face before turning back toward Connie. She was pale except for the red marks that looked suspiciously like a hand print on the left side of her face. Sitting on the armchair, she pulled her feet up under her dress, and clutching her shawl tightly at her throat.

  "I am destroyed.” The rest of her words were lost in a new siege of sobbing.

  "Tell me from the beginning.” Connie knew that it was the same day in Victoria's time as their previous visit. The wedding gown was still on the bed.

  "After you left. Mama came to tell me that Evan was in the parlor. I was excited to see him. We have been surrounded by family and friends and do not see each other except for a few stolen moments.

  "He wanted me to accompany him to his house, the one that is ... was to be our home. His mother is helping the servants prepare it ... and he wanted me to see what they have done.

  "'We have no chaperone.’ I said, ‘and it is unseemly for a young lady to be with a gentleman alone.'

  "'Even one that you intend to marry?’ he asked.

  "He said if that was my only concern, I need not worry as his mother and father were at the house and would protect my honor.

  "I went with him, as I could find no argument against this. Perhaps I did not want to argue against it.” Victoria blew her nose and took a deep breath before continuing.

  "It wasn't until he stood that I realized he had been drinking. He has never before come to see me in this state. I do not know why Mama allowed him in the house in that condition.

  "I felt like a fool for not trusting him. After all, I knew he loved me. I will soon be Evan's wife; he would see that no harm came to me."

  Connie's jaw worked, grinding her teeth together as she tried to keep her rage in check. He hit her! That much she knew; what else did he do to her? She might be wrong, but she didn't think she was. She reached to touch the damp cheek. Her fingers b
rushed errand strands of hair from the hot flesh like a soft breeze.

  "I'm glad you are here, Kone. I can tell no one else. No one.” With a sigh, Victoria clung to her shawl. She kept her eyes downcast.

  "His parents were not in the house. He pretended to be surprised, only remembering, then that they were visiting with old friends across the river and wouldn't be back until late. None of the servants live in.

  "When I asked him to take me home, he laughed and took hold of my arm, bruising it I'm sure.

  "'Come, my bride. You want to see the home I have built for you. We will see it now and I will take you to your father when we are finished.’ I hardly had a choice. With his fingers digging into my flesh, I could not pull free. He found my efforts comical."

  Standing, Victoria walked to the open window and stared at the scene below. When she spoke again her words were garbled by renewed tears. “He insisted that I see the master bedroom. I refused. He would have none of it. He carried me ... over his shoulder like some ... some street trollop. I kicked and shouted, calling him all the black, vile names that I could think of, commanding him to release me at once.

  "When he put me on my feet, next to the bed I ... I slapped him. Without hesitation he drew back his hand and slapped me as well. I was spun around on my heels and ended in a heap on the floor.

  "He knelt beside me. I thought he would beg my forgiveness and assist me to my feet. Instead, he lifted me to the bed and fell on top of me.

  "He said that I had teased him far too long and he would not wait another night to reap the fruits of his labor. He would have me."

  Victoria's next words were so soft Connie couldn't hear them. “I didn't hear you,” she said.

  Turning, Victoria's dark blue eyes swam with the gold sparks of anger, she repeated her last words.

  "And he took me."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Twenty-Two

  Ignoring the others, Brian quickly stood and followed Connie. After pausing at the front door for a few seconds, the cloud she was in moved up the stairs. Brian stayed close behind.

  "Is this what it's like when I trip?” Joe asked Tracey while he watched the misty cloud glide across the room into the hall.

  "Yeah, but you don't disappear that fast. You kinda fade out real slow.” Tracey stood to follow Brian.

  "Brian, can we come with you?” Tracey asked softly.

  Irritated by the distraction, Brian started to say no, but changed his mind. Joe and Tracey were the only other people who could possibly help them find answers to their questions.

  "Sure, come on, I think she's going to her room.” The cloud had reached the top of the steps and moved toward the door of Connie's room, disappearing into its interior.

  Inside, Tracey and Joe stood out of the way near the bathroom talking in low whispers to each other. Brian stood near the armchair behind the bubble of mist trying to hear Connie's words. Only a few made the trip back through time undistorted.

  I would feel better if I could hear what's going on. She's been gone close to twenty minutes. Something must be wrong with Victoria. Maybe she's finding out that the wedding has been called off.

  "Tracey, can you hear Joe when he's tripping?” Brian asked at the couple, never taking his eyes off of Connie, or rather the bubble that contained Connie.

  "Only occasional words. If he wants to say something to me he enunciates clearly and talks loudly. We've develop a code made up of short sentences and single words to communicate."

  "I only hear part of what Tracey says, so the code works both ways,” Joe added.

  Brian nodded without turning. “We'll talk to you later about the code, right now I think she's coming back.” The haze began to swirl and cloud up. When it grew dark, Brian was ready to catch Connie if she should fall.

  * * * *

  That night his dreams were of ghostly figures seen only in pictures, and words spoken years before, or maybe yesterday. Who was the young woman who stood on the edge of his subconscious? Victoria? Connie was there, of course, just out of his reach. He saw the woman go to Connie. She stood holding her hands for a brief time before disappearing. Only a frightened Connie remained. She fought the misty nothing, calling his name, pleading for his help. He struggled to reach her.

  Brian woke, his body covered with sweat. Disentangling himself from the sheet, he went to the bathroom. Quietly pulling the door to Connie's room closed he ran cold water and washed his face. Turning off the tap, he pushed the door open again.

  The room was filled with early morning shadows. It would be another hour before the sun came up, but the moon was still hovering above them. A bulge on the bed reassured Brian that Connie was still in the twentieth century.

  Slipping quietly into the room, he went to the armchair and sat down.

  * * * *

  "Can you tell me about it?” Brian had asked. Tracey and Joe had gone back to their own rooms after making sure Connie had returned safely. She and Brian were alone facing each other from opposite ends of the sofa.

  "He was drunk.” Her voice was quiet, tears rolled down her cheeks. “There's no excuse for what he did, but I didn't think he would ... he raped her. Victoria has been hurt. Not just physically, but her trust in this man is destroyed. I thought that would explain why she doesn't marry him, but Victoria plans on going through with the wedding. I asked her why. She said perhaps he is right and he should be able to bed the woman he is to marry, especially if she is a hussy and teases him beyond endurance."

  A burst of angry outrage made Connie's eyes as dark as thunder clouds. “Men have not changed. They still use the same lines and think they have the ‘right’ to take what is denied to them."

  Brian's concern was not for Victoria, but for Connie. She was as distraught as if it had been her who had been attacked. Moving across the space between them, he took her hands in his.

  She resisted shaking her head. “No, I'm okay. I just need to..."

  "You're not okay. You comforted Victoria. Now it's your turn to be comforted.” He waited for her to stop fighting him. “Let me do that for you."

  "You've done more than you know just by being here,” Connie said.

  He held her face in his hands. The urge to kiss the tears away was almost overwhelming. He brushed hair from her forehead before gently pulling her into his arms.

  When she had calmed down, Brian gave her some privacy to change, but returned to make sure she was all right. He waited for her to fall asleep before returning to his room. Sleeping lightly, he woke when Connie thrashed or talked in her sleep. Each time he went to her and sat on the bed and waited for her to drift into another dream, thinking each time maybe this one would be of happiness.

  There had been many dreams. It was dawn. Finally Connie was sleeping soundly. Maybe she could get the rest she needed.

  Sitting next to her, Brian leaned against the headboard, watching her breathe.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Twenty-Three

  Tuesday

  The soft strains of a country-western ballad slowly woke Connie. Pressing her tender eyelids tight, she tried in vain to prolong sleep. The sad memory of Victoria's pain intruded.

  Giving up the pretense of getting more rest, Connie pulled herself upright, turned off the alarm, and leaned against the headboard. She remembered the feel of Brian's arms around her, comforting her, waiting for her to get into bed, and sitting next to her until she had gone to sleep.

  Waking many times during the night, sometimes sobbing, sometimes with cries of fright, Connie always found Brian nearby. Without a word he came to the bed and sat next to her holding her hand until she drifted back into her unsettled sleep.

  Connie felt the sheets next to her, waking Brian with a start. “What's happened?” He sat up and looked around the sunny room.

  "I believe we spent the night together.” Connie smiled, pleased to find him near.

  "So we did, most of it anyway.” Brian stood and stretched his arms high over h
is head, his fingers nearly reaching the ceiling. “Do you feel like taking that trip to Chatham? We can cancel and sleep in."

  "As tempting as that sounds, I have work to do. The trip's on; that is if you're able to go. You look bushed. Did you get any sleep?"

  "I'll be okay. All I need is a hot shower, a good breakfast and a couple of pots of strong coffee."

  "I would toss you for the shower, but I'm afraid I would win, then I would feel guilty. You shower and I'll write my notes on last night's adventure.” Connie swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Just let me use the facilities first."

  * * * *

  Her short hair still damp, Connie could smell the strong chicory coffee as she hurried down the narrow steps. The aroma of fresh baked biscuits made her mouth water. But first the coffee.

  "So that's why you didn't answer when I knocked on the door. I thought you had fallen asleep and I would be on my own today after all.” Her pleasure was obvious at finding Brian waiting.

  Looking up from the newspaper he was reading, Brian smiled as he reached for his cup of cream laden coffee. “Couldn't go without you.” The results of his night's vigil were clearly etched in the weariness on his face. “How are you feeling?"

  "Tired, and ready to get away from all this for a while. Just let me get a couple of cups of coffee and something to eat first.” To emphasize her words, Connie filled a cup and sat down.

  Brian offered her a section of the local newspaper. Accepting it, she barely glanced at the words, her mind deep in the past. They ate in comfortable silence.

  Pushing her chair back, Connie picked up her bag and sun hat. “I'm ready whenever you are.” She walked toward the open doorway.

  "The car is in back. Let's go out through the kitchen.” Brian settled the heavy camera bag on his shoulder.

  Brian concentrated on the traffic, while Connie pointed out the changes in the landscape over the last hundred and forty years.

  After entering the crowded parking area, Brian skillfully pulled into a narrow space, edging out a station wagon full of excited children. “He wouldn't be able to get that monster into that space anyway,” Connie commented as the balding man behind the wheel scowled in their direction.