Lost in the Mist

by Wanda C. Keesey

  With a deep sigh Brian seemed to give up the argument. “I'm sorry. You were afraid. I thought I was helping. I won't take you anywhere again without asking you. In case you haven't noticed, it didn't work. We are going back to Fredericksburg and that wasn't my choice.” Brian leaned forward and wrapped one large hand around his mug, without another word he drank the remaining coffee.

  ...wasn't my choice. The words echoed in Connie's head. Maybe Brian was right and they should try to ... but he did try.

  Neither spoke as the waiter put their order on the table, nor while they ate. Connie couldn't remember if she ever ate food with less taste.

  * * * *

  The ride home was quiet. The sound of the tires singing on the macadam road emphasized the words in Connie's head. ... wasn't my choice.... wasn't my choice.... wasn't my choice.

  As soon as they stopped in the parking lot behind Fraiser's Rest, Connie grabbed her bags and left the car without looking at its unhappy driver. Entering through the back door, she headed for the stairs, ignoring Val's greeting.

  Connie threw her purse and bag on the bed and went to the windows. She fought back tears of frustration. How could he do it? She'd really thought he was special. Turning on her heels, Connie looked around the room. Everything was closing in.

  I have to get out of here for a while; it's too close, and ... She couldn't talk to Brian just yet.

  She put the journal in the small canvas bag and left the B&B by the front door in search of a quiet place to read. She found it in a small park nearby. Usually crowded with tourists and children, the park was almost empty. Everyone was resting from a long day of touring or getting ready for the evenings activities. Selecting a bench in the shade, Connie opened the journal and tried to forget Brian.

  5 July 1860

  I wish you could stay with me.

  Connie remembered the Victoria's own broken trust and tear streaked face.

  I do not expect you could, but there is a void. It may be years before I see you again, maybe minutes or maybe never. Forgive me my sadness. In this one evening, I have lost something very dear to me, my Evan, and I do not want to lose you, too. You have become my confidant. I know you will read these words someday, it is some solace.

  I must marry Evan, but it will be a marriage in name only. I can no longer love him. I am obliged to tell him of my decision in private.

  Touching the yellowed page, Connie thought of the tears that were shed as the words were written. Victoria full of anger and sorrow she couldn't express without being judged by society. How would she, Connie, a woman of the twentieth century, handle the trauma of being raped?

  7 July 1860

  My wedding will be a sad affair. My talk with Evan was not easy. He assured me of his love and promised that he would never again repeat his act of that night. My trust has been shattered. How can such violence come out of love? But where can I turn?

  I hate the thought of living in that house. I will always remember the shame that was brought on me there.

  8 July 1860

  We, you and I, live in different worlds, with different laws. We have to each abide by those laws. Even the unwritten rules of society cannot be ignored. I fear that my body must be given in marriage, if not my heart, to Captain Brewster. It will be done to fulfill my obligation and not for love. He has killed my love. My only solace will be that I know this man does not love me, and will be living the same lie. The words fall from his lips, but his heart is blackened with lust. He will take his pleasures at whatever flesh markets will take his money and leave my bed empty.

  Annabelle is at my door. It is time for the ceremony. I hope you will be by my side, but if you cannot, pray for me, my sister.

  A cool breeze turned the page in the journal. Connie looked up to see shadows stretching across the small park where she sat. Connie closed her eyes and remembered the touch of Brian's hand, the feel of him holding her close and the last words she heard him say, “...wasn't my choice."

  I know why you tried to take me away. You are afraid for me. So why can't I just forget it? Connie knew it was because she was afraid too, for herself and for Victoria. She had to see this through. She gathered her things and stood. She would talk to Brian and maybe they could come to an understanding.

  It was a short walk to the B&B. Connie was surprised to see men in uniform standing outside the open door.

  "Excuse me.” She edged past a cluster of young men. Squinting, she studied their faces and costumes. They didn't notice her standing in their midst. Slowly she turned to look across the street. Three houses looked back at her.

  The wedding. It must be. These men were wedding guests. Had it already taken place? Victoria had said it would be in the afternoon, and it was now evening, so the ceremony was over.

  Connie went into the house. In the parlor a group of women sipping tea and eating from plates piled high with pastries and fruit.

  That won't last long. Soon they would wish they had saved some of this food for later. The dining room table was filled with platters of meats and smoked fish. The sideboard had its own burden of bowls of fresh fruits, trays of pastries filled with vegetables and sweets, puddings, glazed fruits. In the center of the sideboard was the wedding cake. Its dark, moist surface was decorated with nuts and fruit. The Brentwells had done their daughter proud. In spite of having just eaten, Connie's mouth watered at the sight and smells of the food.

  Where were the newlyweds? Peeking into the kitchen, Connie saw that Lacy was directing several serving girls. The voices of men came from the carriage house yard. As they entered the kitchen, Connie watched with interest.

  "You're right, sir. He's just about the best piece of horse flesh I've seen. And I fear that horses will become more scarce as this conflict builds.” The tall man who spoke had to be Evan. His mutton chop sideburns and uniform were what Connie had expected. Finally able to see him clearly and not from a distance, she saw that he had a presence. The kind of man who was felt when he entered a room. Who would suspect that he was capable of rape?

  "Come, we will retire to the sitting room,” Evan said. “I've brought a special bottle for my special guests.” The group of men followed Captain Brewster; among them were the young men she had seen as she entered. They loudly made jokes and slapped him on the back.

  "Well, there's the groom. Where's the bride?” Connie went up the steps. She heard voices through the closed door of the room she would use a hundred and forty years in the future.

  Victoria stood at the window. Her mother and Annabelle were with her. She wore the dark royal dress Evan purchased in Washington. Pieces of lace showed evidence of having been sewn on in haste. Victoria had discarded the white dress she had carefully worked on for weeks. Sprigs of honeysuckle adorned her hair. “I'm all right Mama, I just thought..."

  "Don't say again that you wanted some unknown girl to be at your wedding. All of your friends and many of my own have come. You must go down and be a proper hostess. I am sure Evan is not ignoring his guests.” Speaking with the authority that only a mother has, Prudence wet a hanky in the wash bowl and went to wipe her daughter's face. “You must stop this nonsense right now. How will you explain swollen eyes to your friends? And on your wedding day."

  "You know I don't love him,” Victoria pleaded with her mother. “I don't want to see my friends."

  "What do you mean you don't love Evan? You've loved him for years. And even if you didn't, your friends don't know that you don't love your husband, and they don't need to know. Goodness girl, they don't want to know. They've come to find joy and reason to celebrate.” Prudence returned the hanky to the bowl and looked at her daughter. Prudence was shorter and her hair was graying, but the resemblance to her daughter was strong. “Take a deep breath. That's it, now let's go downstairs."

  "Anna...” Victoria turned toward her friend and saw Connie near the door. “...belle, would you take Mama downstairs while I touch-up my hair, and you both can tell my guests that I will join them shortl
y."

  There were some mumbled objections but Prudence seemed satisfied that her daughter was going to do her duty and make an extended appearance. They left the room. Connie could hear them talking quietly as they descended the steps.

  "They care for you,” Connie told her.

  "Yes, they do,” Victoria said without taking her eyes off the closed door. “I had given up hope that you would come. When the ceremony ended and you weren't there I thought you might be here in our room. But..."

  Connie moved closer to Victoria. “You know I have no control over when I will come. I've just read in the journal that it was your wedding day. I hoped to find a way, but couldn't. I'm here now. I want you to be happy, Victoria."

  "Don't you know? Can't you tell me? Have I made a terrible mistake?” Victoria pleaded. “I thought that if you were here, because you know what is to be, you would tell me not to do this thing. You could tell me that I was being foolish marrying a man I don't love."

  Tiny flutters in Connie's stomach grew to the flapping of bat's wings. I know so much and so little, Victoria, but I can't tell you even that.

  She shook her head and said, “You have to make your own decisions. As you said in the journal, you have to live by the laws, even the unwritten social laws of your time. The choices you make must be yours. Can you see that?"

  Reluctantly Victoria nodded. Holding her head held high, she started toward the door. “Thank you for coming, Connie. I will write.” She spoke without turning around, her words were lifeless.

  When the door closed, the room around her began to change. Connie sat on the bed holding her arms across her chest and waited. How did she get into this? What was going to happen next? Victoria, what would become of you? Already tense from her own experience and angry at Brian, Connie started to feel the world close in on her.

  When the room stopped shifting, she moved quickly, afraid she wouldn't make it to the bathroom before she threw up.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Twenty-Five

  She wasn't alone.

  "How long have you been here?"

  Brian was sitting on the bed when she left the bathroom.

  "I followed you when you came in. Joe and I were in the parlor. I saw the mist."

  "Is he here, too?” She looked around quickly. She was trembling so hard that her teeth chattered.

  Brian went to her, stood close and put his arm around her. “We're alone. He knew what was going on, but I told him that I could handle it."

  "I just ... I don't want to answer a lot of questions. I'm sorry I'm so much trouble, things are getting so complicated.” Taking a deep breath, Connie put her hand on his encircling arm and squeezed gently. “Thanks for being here ... again."

  Drawing back, Brian looked into her pale face. “Does this mean I've been forgiven?"

  Nodding, Connie said, “Yes, I understand why you tried to take me away. But you have to promise not to do anything like that again. I have to see this thing through. I know it's not going to be easy, but as you said, the choice isn't mine."

  Making a cross over his heart, Brian gave his word. “I can't say I like the idea, but I promise. No more attempts to abduct."

  * * * *

  Val was clearing the supper dishes when Brian and Connie entered the dining room.

  "Did we miss dessert?” Brian filled two cups with coffee, before taking a seat next to Connie. He placed one of the cups in front of her.

  "Nope, just in time. You missed a great roast, though,” Joe said. “Where did you go today?"

  Brian glanced at Connie before answering. “We went to Chatham. I took some promising pictures. We had a questionable lunch and Connie did some traveling."

  "She what?” Joe looked from Brian to Connie. “You tripped? I didn't think you went back unless Victoria was there. Wasn't that why you went to Chatham? Did you see her?"

  "No.” Connie said. “But I saw a group of Union soldiers ... and one of them saw me."

  Joe's brow furrowed. “Someone besides Victoria saw you? Man, what are the chances? Did you find out who he was?"

  "Just that his name is Andrew and he's a corporal. He thought I was a spy, I guess. What bothers me is how many other people from the past are able to pull me back? I could spend the rest of my life flitting back and forth in time with no control over when or where I go.” Connie drank some of the cooling coffee. “I thought that when I was able to figure out the connection to Victoria that I would be able to stop tripping and lead a normal life.” She glanced at Brian, before returning her attention to the Handleys.

  "Is the trip to the battlefield still on for Thursday?"

  "Sure, but do you think it's a good idea for you do go?” Tracey said.

  Before Connie could answer the kitchen door swung open and Val entered. She put a plate of deep-dish apple pie in front of each guest. When she left, Connie continued.

  "I think I have to go. I'm not sure that Victoria was there, but I have a strong feeling ... I can't explain it."

  The pull of the battlefield was as great as her initial compulsion to come to Fredericksburg. “I would feel better knowing that all of you were with me. I feel anchored in this time when I know there's someone who knows where I am. And Joe, maybe we'll be able to go back at the same time and see each other."

  "Wouldn't that be a kick? I wonder if we'll be able to talk to each other,” Joe's said with a smile that lit up his face.

  "We just might find out.” Connie's stomach fluttered. She cut a piece of the pie and put it in her mouth. The apples tasted like sawdust. “Have you asked Betty about a picnic lunch?” Placing her fork on the edge of her plate, Connie looked at Tracey.

  "Yes, she'll have Val pack us some sandwiches and fruit for lunch, pastries for breakfast, and coffee, ice water and sodas. Joe and I have a couple of blankets we always carry to sit on if there aren't any tables. And it looks like the weather will cooperate. We're supposed to have showers tomorrow but Thursday should be clear and warm."

  "Are you still going, Brian?” Connie asked.

  "Yes, I wouldn't miss it.” He smiled at Connie. “I'll get the car gassed up and check the oil and tires tomorrow. We did quite a bit of driving today,"

  "Oh? Chatham's not that far. Where else did you go?” Tracey asked.

  "I was Sir Galahad and tried to whisk the fair maiden to safety. But somehow we got turned around and ended up back here in Fredericksburg. Whatever forces are at work, they don't want Connie to leave until the job's done. And I didn't get permission for the ‘whisking’ so I was on the bad side of the fair maiden."

  "All is forgiven, now though,” Connie assured the others. “My knight in shining armor has promised no more surprise trips."

  Brian briefly put his hand over hers on the table.

  "Tell me to mind my own business if I'm out of line, but something happened this evening didn't it? Brian said you were in your room, but then I thought I saw you come in the front door, or rather a cloud came through the front door.” Joe sipped iced tea and waited.

  After taking another bite of the pie, this one tasted better, Connie washed it down with warm coffee. “You're not out of line, you're a friend. And I appreciate your concern. Brian didn't know that I had gone back out. I wanted to read, but the house was closing in on me, so I went to that little park a few blocks away. When I returned, things were back in time. They must have changed as I was walking, but I didn't notice right away. There had been a wedding here and I arrived during the meal that was prepared for the guests. It was beautiful, all the elaborate foods and clothing. When you saw me, I was wandering around the house. Brian followed me to the bedroom, the bride was there and I wanted to see her."

  "Victoria?” Tracey asked.

  Connie nodded. “She wanted me to tell her she had done the right thing. She was annoyed that I hadn't been there to stop her, or at least tell her what was going to happen in her future. I'm puzzled about the tombstones we saw Monday.” Connie looked at Brian, before continu
ing. “Evan Brewster is buried next to Annabelle who was his wife, and their children. There isn't any sign of Victoria in the family section of the cemetery. I thought I'd go to the library or historical society and see if I can find any old newspapers or records. I want to see if I can find anything about the other members of Victoria's family, too."

  She finished her pie and drained her coffee cup then yawned. “I'm sorry, I have a lot of sleep to catch up on. I think I'll go up to bed.” She pushed the chair back, and walked to the parlor door. “You know,” she turned, “if we could pack even a little of the food on that table, left over from the reception, we could eat for a week."

  After she moved into the next room, Joe's voice followed her. “It must be hard, seeing two worlds at the same time, and not always knowing which one you're in."

  You bet it is. Connie climbed the steps.

  * * * *

  The house was quiet. The others had gone to their rooms. Darkness folded Connie in its soft blanket. As she lay on the crisp sheets, fingers of cool air brushed over her. Connie thought about Victoria. On what should be one of the happiest days of her life, the nineteenth-century bride, like so many others of her time felt herself doomed to a life of service to a man she didn't love.

  Connie's mind refused to rest. Pushing herself up, she went to the windows. The outside world drifted between the world she knew to exist and the one that Victoria saw. The night didn't bring her relief.

  With a sigh, she turned on the reading light and found the journal.

  8 July 1860

  afternoon

  We are married, but it is a sham. I will not share my bed with a man who prefers lustful violence to love. I am glad that you came, Kone. Your visit was a bright spot in my dreary day.

  29 September 1860