It Happens Every Day

by Derek A. Murphy

  Feeling real anger with him for the first time, she tossed her head and stood erect, shoulders back and stomach in, finally ready to face the truth about their relationship. She would end things with him today, in public so he couldn’t fall back on the tantrums he had used in the past to coerce her into changing her mind. She touched the spot on her cheek where it was still sore from last night and swore that this time; she would not be moved by his entreaties.

  * * *

  Watching the crowd file out of the church, Brian began to feel less sure of himself regarding his plan and felt the sorrow and grief wash over him yet again. Lisa’s family still waited near the front for the crowd to exit and he knew that he should be with them, but for some reason, he didn’t feel that he could stand there with them, waiting to ride to the cemetery. Not if he still planned on crossing over to the next world and bringing another Lisa back with him. He felt that if he gave in to the grief and sought the closure of actually seeing her coffin sitting above the grave, he would lose all his resolve about the crossing. Besides, he worried that the other world’s Lisa might be different from his Lisa, and that her presence in this world would prove to be problematic. The combination of the two might erode all his resolve and leave him standing at her grave with no thought of trying to change any of it.

  Making his decision, he walked back to the front and stopped in front of Lisa’s parents, brother and sisters. Their faces showed him not just their grief over their loss, but also the concern they felt for him. Mrs. Carey piped her eye as Mr. Carey turned away, not wanting anyone to see that he had been crying. The older man’s handkerchief was busy at his eyes and nose as Brian stood there. The old man extended a hand, which he shook, and it was replaced immediately by Mrs. Carey’s hand.

  He gathered his resolve and said, "I’m sorry; I can’t go to the cemetery with you. I know I’m welcome and that you believe that Lisa would want me there, but I just can’t do it."

  Lisa’s brother, Robert, started to bridle at his decision, but his mother’s hand on his arm quieted him and he contented himself with a dark look in Brian’s direction. Lisa’s sisters, Virginia and Margaret, Ginny and Peggy to their friends and family, took turns embracing him and each turned away wiping streaked makeup from their eyes and blowing their noses after their murmured thanks. Ginny was a sophomore in college and Peggy was in her last year of high school. Robert, a couple of years older than Lisa, unbent enough to extend a hand and after shaking it, Brian turned away, afraid that if he stayed, he would lose his resolve.

  Once in his car, he put the top down and backed out of his parking space as the funeral cortege formed up at the other side of the parking lot. Feeling the sting of tears, he accelerated rapidly, swinging out onto the street to head in the opposite direction from the cemetery. He wanted the wind of his passage to dry his eyes; he didn’t think he could stand the thought of crying yet again.

  His only problem now was what to do with himself until sundown. His department manager, Crowley, had given him the week off because of Lisa’s death, and he didn’t have to worry about work; being on the other side of the ‘veil’ the gypsy had told him about, he wouldn’t be able to show up tomorrow morning anyway. Driving toward the home he still shared with his mother, he reflected that he probably shouldn’t have moved back in after graduation. But, with no job at the time; what else could he have done? The job popped up shortly after and he could have gotten an apartment then, but Lisa wanted to pick out just the right house for them and moving into an apartment had seemed a waste of time, energy and money.

  Finding himself on the street that crossed through town and wended its way to the cemetery, he turned a corner, pulled into a parking space and got out of the car. People were just getting off work for the day and were hurrying toward their cars or one of the downtown restaurants for dinner. He saw the pretty, office-girls swinging along in their summer dresses and felt a catch in his throat as he remembered how pretty Lisa had been in the last dress he had seen her in. Hoping that this wasn’t all just a wild-goose chase, he feared that it was and that he would only be disappointed. It was one thing to embark on the course he had charted for himself, but quite another to believe that it stood any chance of coming to fruition.

  To distract himself, he set about the practical aspects of how to go about doing the thing and recited to himself the instructions the gypsy woman had given him. He knew that he wanted some secluded place where he could hopefully disappear without notice, and return in the same locale for the same reason. There would be enough confusion and fear without being forced to explain to anybody what had happened. Brian could just imagine the reactions he would get from people if they saw him just appear in front of them. There would be no questions to answer when he left, but when he arrived at wherever he was going, the fewer witnesses; the better. On the return, he would have the same problem; therefore, he would need to perform the thing in some out-of-the-way place in both worlds. If he performed the return in the same place he crossed over, he reasoned that his car would be waiting for him.

  Then it occurred to him that he had the perfect place in which to conduct this possible exercise in futility; the brook where he and Lisa used to lie under the trees and watch the sunset. It was only a mile or two out of town and when he emerged on the other side, he would be without his car, but could walk the distance without trouble. Since the brook was in the middle of a cow pasture, there would be no witnesses beyond a few bovines to witness either his triumph or ignominious failure.

  As a counterpoint to the parade of attractive, young women who passed by, the funeral cortege passed by at the corner, less than a half-block from where he sat and he promised himself that he would know in a few hours whether it was possible to cross to another world or not. Turning, he walked into a small grocery store and busied himself with buying two bottles of soda, a bottle of beer, a small ice-chest, with ice, and a sandwich at their deli-counter. If he was going to make a journey to another world, he might as well do it on a full stomach.

  * * *

  The bell over the door jingled as Lisa entered the psychic’s place of business and before she had even taken two steps into the room, the door on the other side opened to admit the psychic herself. With a small smile the woman moved to one of the chairs, gesturing for Lisa to sit. When she had, the psychic looked her in the eyes and cocked her head slightly to one side. She seemed so familiar to Lisa that she had trouble finding her voice until the woman prompted her.

  "You’ve had a difficult time. How may I help you?"

  Stuttering, Lisa said, "Y-you s-said to come see you; that you could help me."

  "And, what is the problem?"

  Staring at the woman, Lisa said, "When you offered to help me, I thought you knew. I mean, you’re a psychic, aren’t you?"

  Nodding Mrs. Petrov said, "I am, and I do know what you seek, but you must speak the words. Otherwise, if things turn out contrary to your wishes, you may claim that I misrepresented myself."

  Unconsciously wringing her hands, Lisa said, "I’m not sure if I should stay with my boyfriend. He’s not the same boy that I fell in love with and he’s getting violent. When I go home, I feel dirty and ashamed. How can I leave him? I was going to try today, but lost my courage."

  Pursing her lips, the older woman asked, "Do you have something that he’s given you? A locket? A ring? Maybe even a letter? Something he’s worn would be even better."

  Lisa stopped wringing her hands and found her fingers going to Brian’s class ring with its wad of tape underneath to make it fit her small finger. He had never made good his promise to replace it with an engagement ring and she found herself almost wrenching it from her finger. Dropping it into Madam Petrov’s hand, she leaned forward in her chair and stared forlornly at the bit of metal and colored stone.

  Mrs. Petrov turned it over and over in her hand with a frown on her face as she concentrated for a moment, then her hand, still holding the ring, went to Lisa’s forehead as her other han
d grasped both of Lisa’s. Closing her eyes, the psychic looked as though she was deep in thought. Abruptly, her eyes snapped open and her chin dropped in amazement.

  "You have touched a man from the next world and he is your love. He is everything that you thought you saw in this other and he is determined to come for you. By tonight, he will be near and you must decide if you will go with him or not. He has suffered great loss and is sick at heart because of that loss. If you go with him, you must leave within a night and a day. He knows the way back to his world and will not leave without you. If you do not leave with him in the appointed time, he may die."

  Finding her mouth dry while tears sprang to her eyes, Lisa asked, "How can I leave Brian? He’ll be angry! He’ll come for me! Especially if he knows I’ve left with someone else."

  Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Mrs. Petrov pressed her hand, still clenching the ring, once more to Lisa’s forehead and said, "You leave Brian to go with Brian. He lost you in that other world but will not be without you if he can avoid it. Once you have left with him, the Brian that is in this world will not be able to find you; he lacks the imagination necessary to find you after you leave. If you stay here, he will eventually be the cause of your death. If you falter and delay your departure, he may kill that other Brian."

  Stunned, Lisa asked, "What should I do? How will he find me? How do I avoid Brian until tomorrow night?"

  "Go home. Wait for him on your porch. He will be there before it is fully dark. Do not tell anyone of what I have said; they would not believe you. Let your family think that this is your Brian."

  Almost in a daze, Lisa rose from her chair and made her way back onto the street. As she stood there, she lifted her eyes to the sun where it stood, just sinking to the top of the building across the street. What would she do with herself during the hours intervening till sundown? Walking to her car, she stood beside it for a moment before opening the door and sliding into the seat. The late-summer sun had heated it till the upholstery felt molten and she wasted no time in starting the engine and cranking the air conditioner up. Moving the nearest vent to blow in her face, she felt the cold air blow her hair back from her face and looked into the rearview mirror at herself.

  Her eyes stared back at her and she saw the beads of sweat that dappled her brow and cheeks. She wasn’t sure if she should believe what the woman had told her or not, but she would see it through. If it didn’t happen, she was no worse off.

  * * *

  The gate into the pasture was latched, but without a lock of any sort; the owner, Mr. Whitley, had died the year before and his widow hadn’t gotten around to selling the land. The were no cattle to be seen, but the brook and the half-dozen trees that shaded it were still there. The grass was nearly waist high, but Brian didn’t think that would hurt anything. In fact, once he had his car behind the trees and the screen of bushes that ranged between the brook and the road, his car would be practically invisible.

  Once inside the gate, he got out to close it and drove on to the brook. Old Man Whitley had driven across the brook so many times with his pickup that there was a little ford cut into the banks of the brook and it posed no problem for him to drive across it. The brook was only about three feet wide anyway, and held a gravel bed that his tires wouldn’t get stuck in. He and Lisa had been here many times in the past, once even being caught flagrante delicto by Mr. Whitley. The old man had simply waved as he went by on his way to see to his cattle; stopping on his way back to remind them to close the gate when they left.

  Some time afterward, the old man had button-holed Brian outside one of the local car dealerships and told him that he and his wife had used the brook and its shade trees when they were young in just the same way that Brian and Lisa had. The twinkle in his eyes let Brian know that the old man didn’t mind them using the pasture.

  He had been delayed in getting to the pasture due to a stop he’d had to make; a friend wanted to borrow a book Brian had just finished reading and Brian had figured that he might as well drop it off with him. Who knew? If this thing worked, Brian might get stuck on the other side, and if it didn’t, he would probably be so depressed that he forgot all about the book. Either way, he had fulfilled a promise.

  Stopping for a moment, he removed his suit jacket and tie, laying them beside him as he settled to the surface of the terraced bank. He gauged the height of the sun and reckoned that he had time to eat and drink one of the bottles of soda. If it didn’t work; he planned on drinking the beer on the way back to town, at which point he would go on a bender and get good and drunk. The beer would just prime the pump, so to speak.

  With the sandwich out of the way, he leaned back against one of the trees and watched the sun sink to the horizon. When it was just about to touch, he finished the soda and dropped the plastic bottle into the ice-chest before standing. For want of anything else to do, he began counting the seconds until the sun was in position and, closing his eyes, he felt the wind that the gypsy woman had described and keeping his eyes closed, took a step forward. The wind died at his back and he waited a few more seconds, not wanting to dare hope that it had worked, and afraid that it hadn’t.

  Opening his eyes, he blinked at the sun as it seemed to burn his retinas and dropped his head; things still looked the same. Sighing, he turned and bent to remove the beer from the ice-chest and froze in position; the ice-chest was gone. Looking wildly about him, he saw that his car was gone, too.

  Letting out a wild whoop, he jumped up and down for a few seconds and spun around with his arms out-flung. He looked around for his jacket and tie and began laughing as he realized that they had been left behind. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he walked to the other side of the pasture and found the fence with the railroad tracks just on the other side. He pushed the barbed wire down as he stepped across it, grateful that the wire had been up so long that it had lost its tension and sagged several inches. From there, it was a short thirty feet to the tracks and he started walking along them, finding that since he had matured, the spaces between the ties had gotten shorter, making the walk tiresome. When he tired of keeping his eyes on the ties to prevent a fall, he moved to the side of the tracks and scuffed along on the black gravel. As a boy, he had always wondered where the railroad got the gravel, and the thought came unbidden to his mind, even now.

  He shrugged and put it out of his mind as he watched the lizards and horned toads darting along the tracks. Once, as a boy, he and his friend, Noah, had chased lizards on this same track, and thinking to stop one, he had stepped on the end of its tail, which broke off as the lizard had scooted through a depression under a rail. Feeling foolish, he had wonderingly picked up the tail; dropping it when it flexed in his fingers.

  Walking with his memories, he made good time and reached the area behind his house before he realized how far he had come. He cast longing eyes toward the remembered backyard and stopped, aghast at what he saw in the dusk; instead of the lovingly kept back lawn with its flower beds, he saw a derelict, old car, a ramshackle outbuilding and a house badly in need of paint. The grass grew knee-deep, with a path worn through it where a dog made his daily patrols in search of small animals, and the double row of beautiful, old silver maples were reduced in number by half. The lone holdouts stood with dead limbs here and there, and seemed about ready to join their brothers in death.

  Hurrying along the tracks, unmindful of the gravel that rolled under his feet or the larger stones that seemed to reach out to trip him, he didn’t stop until he stood directly behind his home. Confusing as it was, he reminded himself that there were differences in this world and that he had to make allowances for them. One of the differences stepped from the back door and waddled on splayed feet to a doghouse as disreputable as the rest of the property and dropped a plateful of bones in front of it. A pit bull stuck his head from the doghouse and began gnawing at one of the bones. He heard a guttural but whining voice talking to the dog and was glad that he stood at a distance to the tableau.

 
The father he had known had been a jovial, happy presence in his childhood before that presence had been taken away unexpectedly in an accident when Brian was only six. Yet, here the man stood, and the years had not been kind to him. There had to have been something that happened to the man to have turned him into a fat lay-about in his middle-age. The stretched and sagging t-shirt clung to the man’s protruding stomach and baggy chest muscles. The image of his father, barefoot and wearing stained Bermuda shorts seemed incongruous to Brian. The father he remembered had always worn neat but well-used khaki slacks and shirt in his work as a mechanic. This man seemed little more than a lazy bum. The realization that many people are shaped by their parents made him wonder what kind of man his father had shaped out of his double.

  A breeze sprang up from the northwest, cooling the spots on his shirt where the sweat of walking in the late afternoon sun had soaked through it, and he abruptly continued on along the tracks, eager to put this scene out of his sight and mind. In an effort to forget it, he asked himself where he would be most likely to find Lisa and deduced that if she was anything like his Lisa, she would be with the alternate Brian. For obvious reasons, he wasn’t eager to make contact with himself in this world; he didn’t want to think that he could be anything like the man he had just seen.

  Where would Lisa be at this time of day? Could he spend a little time to observe her before revealing himself? Would that revelation be a shock to her? There was only one thing for it; he would have to find the gypsy woman in this world. She had said that she would help him in any world and he had to take advantage of that. Hurrying along, he kept to the railroad tracks to avoid meeting anyone that he would know in this world. He was afraid of the other differences he might observe here.