The Unlikely Savior (The Unlikely Savior Trilogy)

by T. S. Seley Elliott

  “Sorry, it’s a hazard of the job.” He walked a little closer, more like they were two kids on a playground instead of whatever this was. She sure wished he’d use his own oxygen.

  He stopped his ruthless advance, saying almost seriously,

  “Honestly? I’d prefer Pac Man pajamas, but it seems to put off the clients.” His expression was playful, but almost...shy? No. Just nice. But she could sense he wasn’t a shy guy. Truthfully, her senses were in a total state of chaos... Sandy saved her,

  “You have no idea, Jeremy. I thought we might have to wrestle her into something decent...” She loved this huge man...she knew from Sandy’s look that he’d noted her panic and thrust her into a less intimate comfort zone with his statement. She seized the moment, unlocked her body and gestured to the big man.

  “Yeah...he used a crow bar and brute force, but I managed to find a comb and an iron this morning...”

  “It wasn’t pretty.” Sandy said and put a big hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Hey, could we do a hand-off here? I think that dog needs to go out, and we need an unbiased third party to hang with Johnnie for these proceedings. Game?”

  Jeremy glanced at Johnnie, then back at Sandy,

  “I can walk the dog if you want...as I recall, you’re the head guardian for our angel...” He set his briefcase on a nearby table and was removing his jacket as if he were going to arm wrestle the dog instead of walk her.

  Johnnie was caught on his last statement...why would he, of all people use that word? And it was pretty ballsy for Sandy to put him in this position, but Sandy interrupted with an almost ridiculous insistence.

  “No, really, Dude...I’m telling you, I need some air...and I’m certain you’ve got her best interests in mind.” He then pointed at the two of them, then jacked his thumb toward the living room, as if directing them to get in there where James and Sylvia were already seated. He’d magically produced the leash which Betsy now saw as good thing, slapping everything in her wake with her pounding tail.

  Jeremy looked from Johnnie to the big man, as he tossed his jacket on the table with the case. He pulled at his tie and somehow unbuttoned his top button with the same hand, striking Sandy on the back with the other. He said with confident conviction,

  “I got this.”

  Johnnie regained her senses and elicited a bellowing laugh from Sandy, when she eyed Jeremy with obvious objection.

  “This? What, now I’m a this?” She blew air between closed lips, making a sound universally known as dismissal, and turned to the other room, rolling her eyes. Inwardly, she was relieved to see him fall in step beside her as he rolled up his sleeves with a look of determination. More comfortable with her typical attitude, however, she added, as she eyed his actions, intentionally ignoring his very nice forearms.

  “Don’t get too worked up, Superman, it’s not like we’re saving the world here.” She, of course, didn’t realize the irony of her words. His return glance, however congenial, indicated that he wasn’t so sure he agreed.

  “He says the President wants to see Johnnie Carter and wants us to do the honors...and if we can’t get ahold of her very soon, I guess I’ll have to give Wei what we have, which is her phone number and her mother’s information in New York. Don’t you figure that’s where she is?” Byron compressed his face in thought as he stared up at the sun visor.

  “Well, what does he want? The President, I mean?” Margie looked out of the window at the target of their trip as she asked.

  “I don’t know. But it feels like this web is getting thicker.” He touched Margie’s arm and she looked at him.

  “Wei thinks so too. He just told me that even though it seems crazy, he believes his role in this...and ours, is to get the two together – you know, Wing and Johnnie. Although he can’t explain his feelings any better than I can.” Margie’s eyes looked away and into nothing. She was still, looking as though she worked a mathematical equation in her head.

  Breaking the silence, she, once again, amazed her husband with her versatility and practicality even in these bizarre circumstances. She popped open the car door and said, “Well, then, I don’t know what you’re waiting for...let me go knock on some doors while you try to call her again. You have your feelings and I have mine...mine tell me the clock is ticking...”

  ________________________________________________________________

  Just as she’d been surprised by Paul Leo, Sylvia Post was nothing like Johnnie expected. She’d pictured either a theatric or mysterious mystic wearing hippy threads or a black suited woman ready for a séance. Basically, she expected anything but the woman who extended a hand when they were introduced. The lady was probably around ten years her senior, had shoulder length, partially graying hair – a far cry from the braids or wild curls Johnnie must have anticipated. The woman didn’t “feel” any different from someone one might run into in a Walgreen’s line and Johnnie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or let down. As they shook hands, Sylvia took Johnnie’s hand in both of hers and held them for just a moment, then smiling, let go.

  “Are you comfortable talking in front of these gentlemen, or would you rather be alone?” Sylvia sat as she asked. She could have been here for a card game, she seemed so unassuming. Jeremy waited for Johnnie to sit on the couch, then sat on the opposite side.

  “At this point, I don’t care. Especially after this morning.” She quickly looked at Jeremy. She didn’t think anyone had the time or inclination to clue him in on this morning’s session, but since her “team” apparently consisted of an “all in or all out” group, and he’d learn of it sooner or later anyway. The fact that he was here after the airport scene and hearing her whole story last night indicated he must be “in.” She honestly didn’t know if that horrified her or comforted her. She shook it off and looked back at Sylvia, “We’re good. I don’t even know what you’re going to do anyway. So what are you? I mean...” she glanced at James, realizing he brought this woman here for a reason. “I’m sure you told me why we were meeting...”

  As much as she didn’t want it to be so, she still felt the after effects of the hypnosis session and was having a hard time focusing on this, her second and last “intervention.”

  Sylvia looked at James who explained that as a psychic healer, maybe Sylvia could offer guidance or insight...or maybe even answer questions. Johnnie looked from her brother to the woman.

  “So you aren’t here to heal me? I assume you know what’s going on by now?” Her voice was more resigned than sarcastic.

  “Yes, James has filled me in for the most part. Do you think you should be healed?” She smiled with her question; she seemed to have her own thoughts on the answer.

  “You’re the psychic...what do you think I think?” Although the question sounded sharp, it was more desperate than challenging. She shook her head, following with, “Sylvia...I don’t know. I don’t know what I think, and I don’t know if I have anything to do with anything that’s happened. I don’t even know what it is you can help with.”

  The woman was quiet for a moment. James looked at Johnnie; Johnnie and Jeremy looked at Sylvia.

  “I don’t believe in accidents or coincidence...without even reading you, I’m certain you have a critical role in the events of your life. But I’m getting ahead...” She smiled at the young woman who looked somehow independent and vulnerable at the same time.

  “First...let me explain that I don’t have special powers or access to a special world. I just happen to have a gift that allows me to – better see – what is already there. You know, everything, everyone – we are just parts of something much bigger.” She stopped for moment, and Johnnie said, “Well, at least with you, I don’t need to worry about any ‘savior’ business. If you don’t believe in God, I don’t figure you’ll...”

  “Wait, wait, wait...” Sylvia interrupted and Johnnie stopped with raised eyebrows. With a smile, Sylvia told her, “That is probably the most common misperception about people like me. Johnnie, I do believe i
n God, maybe not it the same way as you think, but I can’t imagine I’d have much to work with without a higher power.”

  Johnnie showed a look of confusion and slight impatience. Sylvia continued, “Listen...I do not personally heal people. I don’t. With their permission, I read them and try to guide them to their God, through their own and God’s energy – which I believe are the same thing – often I balance their personal energy and some believe that opens them up to God. But it really isn’t so mysterious.”

  Johnnie looked up and said bluntly, “You have my permission. Read me.” Her face was open but serious when she added with a swallow and tilt of the head, “Please. What is there...here?”

  Sylvia was quiet for a moment.

  “Johnnie, I knew from the minute I walked in that you have the capacity for tremendous energy, you have a very strong constitution.” She could see Johnnie’s disappointment when she suddenly added, “Why do you fight this so? Why are you angry?”

  “Because I didn’t ask for this!” Johnnie spat in a near shout. She looked to the air and shook her head, her mouth moving wordlessly.

  No one else spoke as the lone young woman folded her hands, then opened them to inspect her palms in silence. She sniffed quickly, and ran three fingers across her eyes wanting badly not to cry. She looked up, locking her begging eyes with the intense, but compassionate eyes of the older woman across the room. She said, more calmly, “I never asked for this. And if I had been asked to do it...I,” She shook her head and looked at the ceiling as a tear escaped. She seemed ashamed. “I wouldn’t have done it. I’m not that good.”

  Sylvia leaned forward.

  “Johnnie. Look at me.” Johnnie wiped away the tear and, sighing, looked at Sylvia. She forgot anyone else was in the room.

  “Do really you think I asked for this?” She gestured toward herself. “If I weren’t born with these – abilities – I wouldn’t have even known what to ask for. It just happened. Do you think Einstein asked for his brain or that Holocaust victims asked to live a nightmare?” The combination of questions shocked and confused Johnnie and she had no idea what to say.

  “I assure you – they didn’t, but their experiences changed the world. Do you believe that the people that would dare to ask for power are the ones who should get it? And, Johnnie...whoever said you had a say, even before this? Were you calling the shots before? And control? It’s overrated. Maybe you should realize your curse may be a blessing.”

  Johnnie sucked in a breath and held it as her eyes narrowed on Sylvia’s. Those last words...wasn’t that what Berta...

  “Sound familiar?” Sylvia raised her eyebrows. Hers wasn’t a knowing look, it simply implied she was justified in her beliefs. Her face softened as she said, “And you are that good. You are better than you think.”

  Johnnie was suddenly aware of Jeremy as he handed her a box of tissues. She hadn’t realized the tears flowed freely now. She shot a look of thanks to the wordless man next to her, then to James. Her brother winked at her, fist against his heart.

  As she wiped her face, Johnnie cleared her throat, then said, “Thank you. Sylvia – I want to believe you. I do. I want to understand... but so much of what has happened has been precipitated with and buried in coincidence. You said you don’t believe in coincidence. I can’t make the connection...”

  Johnnie had no idea she still had a piece of tissue stuck to her the side of her face near her ear as she spoke.

  Sylvia thought for a moment; she knew their time was limited. She quickly raised her head and asked, “Have you ever read the book, the Celestine Prophecy?”

  Johnnie shook her head as she blew her nose.

  Sylvia continued, “It’s a work of fiction, but it is based on at least some principals and ideals that I – and many others believe.” She gestured to James, who nodded in agreement. “It also gives a superb example of the connection I’ve referred to. More importantly for this discussion, it goes to great lengths to expel the myth of coincidence...if everything is connected, then everything has a purpose ... there are no coincidences. Most people just don’t sense the importance or open themselves to the connection.” Jeremy suddenly arose and crossed the room as Sylvia said, “I just happened to be born with very clear receptors....but the waves are there whether you tune in or not.”

  Johnnie squeezed the wad of tissues between her hands as she listened. She followed, but listened for more.

  “Just consider – just for a minute – that there is a reason for these events, and that the coincidences aren’t accidental at all. If you look at it that way...even if the path isn’t clear, does it seem less convoluted?”

  Johnnie was considering the ideas when Jeremy reappeared, and handed her a book; just before he turned away, he gently plucked the piece of tissue from her face, then he sat back down. Johnnie touched her face where the Kleenex had been and looked down at the book in surprise. Sylvia glanced from Johnnie to the book and laughed as she gave Jeremy a nod of approval. Jeremy returned her smile with a shrug,

  “Sorry to interrupt...but I’ve been reading it; it was in my briefcase”

  In Johnnie’s lap was a worn copy of Celestine Prophecy.

  She shot a suspicious glace at Jeremy and he threw his hands up and said, “I swear it’s not a set up.”

  Sylvia added, “But maybe you should consider it’s not a coincidence. Let’s call it a sign.”

  Everyone in the room was silent as Johnnie hugged the book to her chest. She ran through past events in her mind, and said, “Sylvia...I can see a few vague connections – but for the most part, I just don’t get it. I promise, I am trying.” And she was trying; and the lack of results was testing her loose grip on her nerves.

  Sylvia was moved by the young woman’s effort and her plight. She stood and moved across the room, sitting next to Johnnie on the couch.

  “Again, just consider that there is a reason for all of this. Don’t be discouraged...just focus less and feel more.”

  Johnnie, as if in response to the touch said, “Songs... and especially names, even pictures.” She wistfully remembered “bumping” across the book with the remarkable likeness of Colonel Sanders, and the associated feelings.

  “But it’s all about people, even though I don’t always get it, I know certain things are related. I don’t know what it has to do with everything else, but this guy has called me a couple of times...I ignored the first call, but the last one. Well – I guess if you hear the message, it implies we are connected and it sounds weird enough to fit in, but I’ve never met him in my life...” She felt around her waistband to find her phone as she spoke.

  “He actually used to work for one of those stupid magazines, but supposedly not any more. These guys heard the message last night.” She found the phone, and went through the process of accessing saved messages as she continued. “I only remember his name because I Googled him after he called the first time...his is name Byron Hoffstedder...” She was about to play back the message, when Jeremy suddenly spoke up.

  “Byron Hoffstedder? Byron Hoffstedder? That was my seventh grade English teacher’s name. He was...well...” Jeremy suddenly fell silent and as he looked at Johnnie with what appeared to be dawning recognition, and the color seemed to drain from his face. Everyone looked at Jeremy with confused expectation, when Johnnie’s phone rang in her hand.

  Johnnie looked at the number revealed on the screen and her mouth temporarily went slack before saying,

  “It’s him...he’s calling again.” She looked back at Jeremy who was even more fixated on her than before, and with everyone’s ears and eyes on her, she answered the phone.

  As soon as Johnnie Carter answered his call, Byron wished Marg were still in the car; he suddenly had no idea how to proceed with what threatened be an absurd conversation. He could see his wife up the street about half a block; she’d gone door to door. As he rushed to mentally compose his words, he considered laying on the horn to get Marg’s attention, when the woman whom he’d sought
for years intervened and, although she spoke with a weary toughness, she actually eased the way.

  “Mr. Hoffstedder, let’s save each other a lot of time. How do you know me? How are we connected?” He couldn’t believe the difference between her current disposition and that of the single message he’d received from her.

  “Uh... please don’t jump to judgment, but initially it was from when you were a child.” He bit his lip, and when she didn’t immediately respond, he said, “I, well, I was a teacher – but never your teacher, in Normal, Illinois. I seemed to, through no doing of my own... well, I was acquainted with some people who I think you may have, um, had unique experiences with....” He stopped, pressing his brain on how to proceed, when, once again, she led the way.

  “Look, Mr. Hoffstedder...”

  “Byron, please.” He heard an exasperated sigh on the other end.

  “OK, Byron...and call me Johnnie. Lookit, don’t worry about me chewing your ass or thinking you’re crazy. So, what is it? What do you know and why did you call me? Please, I think this is important.”

  Marg had disappeared into a house up the street and he quickly decided to just go with his gut. It felt surreal, but he knew it was very real.

  “Uh, Johnnie – I don’t know if you even remember it, but, it involves some folks you knew when you lived in Normal...” He cringed when he realized he was repeating himself.

  “...Okay... a teacher I knew – she was your first grade teacher, and one of my students, and one of my former students had encounters with a little girl that I’m certain was you. They, well... they believe that you made profound differences in their lives.” He paused, wishing Marg were here to give him a thumbs up.

  “How does that connect you and me?” At least she hadn’t challenged him, so he opened the door a little wider.

  “Because there is no plausible explanation for the fact that I unwittingly became privy to all three events when they did not personally affect me. It left me feeling – for years – that I had some purpose in this.” He paused.