The Unlikely Savior (The Unlikely Savior Trilogy)

by T. S. Seley Elliott

  As implausible as it seemed, at least it was something Johnnie could relate to, although at a much later date she would wish she shared either of the empathic science fiction character’s physical features...they were both hot.

  Everyone seemed relieved as Johnnie stopped and drank some of her own water, then excused herself to go to the restroom.

  She returned with questions, however. She had obviously regrouped and was ready for more. She pointed around the room.

  “That farmer....then the baby. Explain, then, how I went from the scene of an accident where I ‘saved’ him to a few miles away where I did whatever with that baby?” Rather than providing a challenge, her statement seemed to fill in a square for those around her, although it took them a minute. Sandy snapped his finger and pointed at James who nodded his head in realization. Paul shook his head and smiled, with, “Oh!”

  Deflated by their response because it put her back in the position of disadvantage, Johnnie threw up her hands and collapsed on the couch, near Sandy.

  “Okay. I’m crying Uncle. What now?”

  Sandy bore a very marked, “don’t look at me!” expression and pointed at the other two in a sweeping gesture.

  Paul started.

  “First...you need to know that once you started talking under hypnosis...well, I didn’t lead the discussion – it wasn’t a discussion. You just seemed to... flow. You started at the beginning, describing every instance from another view and if we could even understand what you were talking about, we just tried to figure out which situation was which from what we knew...” he glanced at the notes again, then looked back at Johnnie, adding, “And just so you know...it appears you were involved in a lot more lives than anyone knew.”

  In a short moment of clarity, Johnnie responded sarcastically, “Well thank you for that good news. I was feeling so ineffective...” She rolled her eyes and spun a finger in front of her, obviously wanting him to get to the point.

  He cleared his throat, but James picked up the thread as he walked across the room and sat on the couch near his sister.

  “Back to the incident in Nevada with the farmer and baby. You’ve heard of near-death experiences? Just wait...let me finish.” He could see his sister’s impatience flair. “From what we could tell...and we only figured out it was the farmer from the accident and injuries he - you described. From what it sounded like...he was dying and his description was exactly like the stories you hear of people going toward the light. But he came back, though, and woke up to see you over him...it was definitely you.”

  Johnnie chewed her lower lip...this did match Jason’s story.

  “But how did it get to Green Acres...to Emily, the baby?” She asked skeptically, not even wanting to refer to herself when asking about this apparent entity that had stolen her body.

  Again, the three men exchanged glances. James continued.

  “It appears that when you .... or he.... came back from the light – heaven, or wherever, the baby came too. It appears, Johnnie, that the baby had died, but you took her soul home back to her mother – and, you know the rest. That’s how it seems. At least. From what you said.” James faltered as he watched his sister’s response.

  “Oh, God.” Johnnie covered her face and James put his arm around her. She didn’t have the inclination to resist, although she didn’t return his gestures. She just leaned into her own lap.

  In retrospect, she had no idea what sort of gestures or silent words the men had exchanged, but they obviously agreed to stop it there because when she sat back up, Paul quickly looked away from James, and Sandy looked extraordinarily relieved. James had said, gently, “Why don’t we put the rest on hold till you’ve had a chance to

  “I’ve had weeks to do whatever you’re suggesting...and no hold. We aren’t going on hold. How did it start – what was that ‘catalyst’ you brought up... tell me what else happened, Reader’s Digest version is fine, or I’m watching that recording now.”

  She frantically prayed they’d take her bluff because, frankly, the contents of the recording was akin to a five headed monster to Johnnie; as the information sunk in, she not only had no desire to view the session, but was petrified at the prospect. What was on that recording was a line in the sand, and she knew her sanity could be on one side of that line and had no desire to know what was on the other. Hearing it all was one thing...if she saw it and she was in it, well, she couldn’t even imagine the impact.

  No one offered resistance, in fact, Paul hit her right between the eyes with his next statement.

  “I asked you when it all began. That struck a nerve, apparently. It seemed to start with your conception.”

  “Oh Gawwwwwwd.” Johnnie’s hands flew to her eyes as if she could block images of Mary and her sleeze ball father in the act of making a baby. Her hands dropped, however, when James, realizing what she was thinking, quickly piped in.

  “Not that, Johnnie...no....it was completely, well, cosmic. Spiritual? No people were involved. Seemed more like that other thing. Sandy called it heaven...”

  Suddenly the thought of her mom and dad getting it on hadn’t seemed so bad. Johnnie wasn’t ready for this alternative either. A fleeting thought of her mother’s ridiculous implication of Immaculate Conception skittled across her mind and she said,

  “Move past that. Tell me the other stuff. As best you can. Make it simple. Please.” She picked up her water and stared at the shining hard wood at her feet as the three men, almost as if sharing stories around a campfire, pieced together the tales she had passed to them – both the understandable and otherwise. When they had exhausted every detail, they’d fallen silent and eventually James and Paul had left the room.

  Now, with Sandy still at her side, for she didn’t know how long, she came out of the faraway place one goes while in deep reverie. She had just relived the “reveal” portion of the session in her mind. It was just the two of them again, and the dog.

  She looked at him, wary, but open.

  “Healing is not the center of this...it can’t be. What about the child molester guy?” she stopped to swallow the bile in her throat; she had apparently represented his thoughts in a very graphic manner during the session. She continued, trying to move herself to a place of objectivity; she needed to think of the events...not of the people whose thoughts and motives she had apparently articulated painfully well while hypnotized. She continued her questions to her friend.

  “...and the crazy bomber lady. They were caught, not healed. And why would I..or it...want to heal Jeff, the would-be rapist, when he wanted to commit all those horrible acts?” She was genuinely curious, and James, realizing she was no longer fighting, but thinking, hustled for an answer. And it didn’t take long to offer what seemed logical to him.

  “Baby Girl. You don’t mind if I call you that?” She smiled weakly in response, not sure why he asked, or even more compelling, why she didn’t mind, but she shook her head.

  “Good. It just comes out...anyway, I can’t help but think – well, someone was saved by your actions, just not them.” He seized her arm and looked directly into her eyes.

  “You saved that little child that jackass was taking...that’s who was saved...not to mention whatever other kids he would have taken if you didn’t stop him. And with crazy airport bitch? Well...come on, Johnnie....if you – yes you, the security tapes prove it, hadn’t hit all the fire alarms...hundreds of people would have died. Including you and Jeremy...”

  Jeremy, she thought, instantly ashamed that the prospect of his demise seemed to impact her more than that of hundreds of other innocent people. Hardly the response of a supposed savior, she thought guiltily.

  Wanting to redirect her guilty thoughts, she said, “What about Jeff? He’s in your bar now! What is he really doing there?!”

  Initially a dark look crossed Sandy’s face and he involuntarily squeezed Johnnie’s arm till she yelped. He looked at her apologetically,

  “Sorry...it was pretty tough when you were in his
head...I knew exactly who that was.... but, anyway.” He stopped just long enough to clear his thoughts. “Johnnie, you saved yourself that night...but you put yourself in that position, I think, because you – or what-whoever – read him that night and knew a lot of others would have been hurt.”

  She understood what he was saying, but when thinking of child-molester guy again, she shook her head.

  “But it still doesn’t make sense...why not just bust him up or get him busted?” Sandy surprised her with the answer.

  “Because from what you said – believe or not, Jeff was something worth saving...you didn’t say he had “heart”...but it was something like it. Maybe the others were too broke to fix. Or maybe it is a case of good and evil. Damn. I don’t know, I’m making this shit up.” On instinct, he hooked his long arm around her neck, pulled her in. She was touched by the move till she felt the unmistakable scrub of a noogie on top of her head.

  Appalled at his actions only because he had made her actually groom her hair this morning, she was also grateful beyond words for his actions.

  She needed this...and some dog wrestling...and wished she could throw in a quick drink. A freaking psychic healer was coming next, after all. But knowing that Mary was the third and final visitor which caused her to glance at the large clock over the bar. It had to be five o’clock somewhere.

  _________________________________________________________

  The Hoffstedders had arrived in South Bend and as Byron navigated toward the part of town which had briefly housed Johnnie Campbell and her family, Margie mused.

  “You know, just for the sake of argument, we’re making some big assumptions here...like that there were a lot of incidents between when they left Normal and when that accident and the other things happened in Nevada. We know she left the Air Force after the most recent stuff—it appears it all must have stopped for quite a while. Don’t you think they would have been on to her, or that she would have been unable to serve for that long if these things plagued her? Just saying...”

  Byron glanced at her as he thought and drove.

  “We are, Hon. Welcome to the spongy world of investigation. I think it stopped too...but when, I don’t know. They sure moved a lot, and from Normal it was sudden. That could be for other reasons, but I, alone, know of three incidents where we lived...I’m guessing there were more in other places. I’m just trying to connect dots till we can figure out what’s next. I’m sure her family could fill us in, if they were actually willing to talk. It would be a gamble to call her mom or dad, or even her brother... but we could; their “last known” contact information is on those forms. But I sure wish we could just talk to her first; I don’t want to burn bridges with her. And...well, I just think we’re going to get some good thoughts from the old man today. He said he’d call.”

  Having worked their way through the town, they were on a street of very old, poorly maintained, homes. She squinted at the addresses, looking from the MapQuest form to the houses. She spoke as they crept down the street.

  “I hope you’re right about Mr. Liang, although – his son’s under a lot of stress right now, so I don’t know if our visit might fall off the back burner on his priority list.” She pointed to a spot about half a block up, then continued, “I think we’re close. And I see your point...things have moved so quickly over the past few weeks anyway, I guess we should have expected a dry spell.” But even as she said it, they both strongly suspected this would not be the case and, as if to confirm their suspicions, Byron’s phone rang.

  As he scrambled to find which pocket housed his phone, Margie excitedly pointed to a ramshackle duplex. He nodded at her with a smile as he answered the phone, without looking at the number.

  Margie leaned forward toward the floorboard to move the thermos and retrieve her purse in her preparation to get out of the car when she felt Byron smacking her left arm. She looked at him, half annoyed, ready to smack him back, when she saw the look of excitement and validation on his face. She immediately felt the same emotion as they locked eyes and he said,

  “Mr. Liang! ....Okay, Wei. What can I do you for?”

  At that point, Margie did smack him. He had just asked the President’s father, What can I do you for? Even after all these years, this man remained a work in progress.

  “Mr. President, I don’t have to tell you, this is highly unusual...for a number of reasons.”

  “Not the least of which that you are giving me pushback on my request,” Wing said, frankly, to his Chief of Staff.

  Red-faced, Donna Pettigrew responded, “Sir, it’s advice, not resistance. While it’s an amazing advent that you know the mystery person from the JFK blast – it just isn’t advisable that you won’t allow us to inform the authorities, and even more precarious that you want us to secret her here so you can extend your personal gratitude. We’re concerned...”

  “Authorities?” Wing interrupted. He smiled for the first time that day as he folded his hands in front of him. Although he was, so to speak, the leader of the free world, no one in his cabinet or staff had ever witnessed him remind anyone of that fact. Today, for the first time, he made it perfectly clear.

  “I am the authority.” He fell silent as his intense dark eyes and still face said the rest. As he pushed away from the table which centered the brief meeting, he added, as if to soften the approach, “The lady is an old family friend, to whom we – and now many others, are deeply indebted. She is extraordinarily private and should be allowed to decline publicity in this or any other matter, as long as no crime has been committed, which it has not. The crime would be that she be treated in any way other than with complete dignity and discretion. I will have contact information for you, from my father, today. I want her here by tomorrow.”

  Apparently, the discussion, as well as the advising of the boss, was over. In fact, in the White House of late, this appeared to be a trend.

  Although Johnnie did not have a drink, after extracting herself from Sandy’s headlock, she dove atop a delighted Betsy and the two played shamelessly until Johnnie was out of breath and swathed in slobber. Both had plopped in the middle of the floor, and Johnnie felt like she just might survive, after all. As she scratched the bridge of the dog’s nose with one finger, she privately marveled at the truth behind the power of the simplest things over the heart and mind. Betsy didn’t move a muscle, as if her inaction could prolong the perfect moment.

  Sandy, however, had other ideas. Entering from the kitchen, where James was still making calls, he regarded her with disgust. For the second time that day, he banished her to her room to make herself presentable. Although she complained about his demands the entire way to the washroom, she was grateful for his influence. Particularly lately, with no need to “suit up” for work, combined with life’s interruptions, she knew she’d started to let herself go. She had never been particularly girly, but there had been a time in her life when she may have noticed little indiscretions like matted hair, mismatched socks and dog slime.

  She was just exiting her room when the intercom sounded, announcing their next guest. She sharply inhaled and told herself, “You can do this...”

  Remembering Sandy’s earlier words, she told herself to get tough, but without ‘the fight,’... and to look for good. Maybe this woman would provide some slightly less shocking guidance. She promised herself to hold her tongue, even if Sylvia whipped out some of those energy balancing crystals she apparently used.

  Convinced she was ready for anything, Johnnie walked toward the door as Sandy welcomed the guests.

  Okay. Not ready for just anything, she thought, suddenly short of breath. She stopped and touched the nearby wall, regaining her balance.

  She didn’t even notice Sylvia because all she could see was her escort, who happened to be Jeremy. He was perfectly groomed in what appeared to be a high dollar suit, carried a brief case and was the picture of professional charm. Just seeing him was like having a vacuum applied to Johnnie’s attention span. To further
complicate things, she had no idea what the draw was; men did not affect her like this. It wasn’t necessarily a personal policy, it was just that based on previous experience, she had thought it was her nature – like a natural immunity.

  He hadn’t noticed her as he made introductions between Sylvia and Sandy, then he was further distracted by James’ boisterous entrance from the kitchen. She remained by the wall, stiffly smiling as, one by one, she took pot shots at the thoughts which popped up like targets in a trap shoot.

  The targets were plentiful: She didn’t even like men in suits. And this guy was a lawyer for a gajillion dollar firm. And he was just pitching in here...probably as a favor to James...and now that he was “in” on the mess, no thanks to her, he really had no choice.... Besides, he wasn’t really, handsome, anyway, not that that mattered... The objections, rationales and roadblocks shot endlessly into her mental crosshairs as she tried to prepare herself to meet the real guest.

  Jeremy had stepped back as Sylvia and James embraced, then talked softly--probably about her--and headed toward the living room; she was grateful James hadn’t noticed her. Sandy and Jeremy shook hands, and Johnnie could have sworn Sandy turned Jeremy in her direction by way of his hearty handshake. She would get him for this later, she thought, but froze, once more as Jeremy noticed her. He simply dropped his arm from Sandy and turned toward her, valise still in his other hand. He smiled and he was instantly that guy from last night, but damn, he looked good. But even more disturbing, he looked at her, again, like he knew her better than he did, and that it was all good.

  “Get over yourself, Johnnie,” she internally scolded and said, as casually as possible,

  “Well, you clean up real nice.” Oh. Now that was smooth.

  Although smiling, he flinched a bit, glancing down at his attire. He actually looked apologetic,