A Journey of Souls

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A Journey of Souls Page 13

by Michael McKinney


  “What's that?”

  “When we were kids, you used to stretch your arms out like that. Are you still doing yoga?”

  “Yes, every morning, it keeps me limber.”

  “Are you surprised to see me back so soon?”

  “A little, when you called to tell me you were coming I thought it was a bit curious. Is something on your mind?”

  “The past few weeks I've been thinking about how we grew up together in that house on Piedmont Avenue back in Muncie.”

  “I remember. That was nearly forty years ago. They say time speeds up as you grow older. I believe it.”

  “So do I ... You know why I came to see you Louise?”

  “Why?”

  “To say thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being a good sister and friend ... I never told you, but when I was in high school, and you were one grade ahead of me, it was a relief to know you were always around. I was pretty shy. high school was kind of intimidating for me. You always made an effort to check on me. It was nice to know that you were there.”

  Taking her sister's hands into her own, Louise tells her. “Oh Sis, and I thank you, you were there for me as well.”

  “No I wasn't Louise. You were the strong one. You were my protector. I wasn't yours.”

  “Well, we both got through it Barb, and guess what, we had some fun along the way.”

  “We did. We sure did ... It's always good to see you sister.”

  “The feeling's mutual Barbara. I assure you. Well, what would you like to do tonight? We can stay here or go out.”

  “Let's stay home.”

  “Sure,”

  “Now, I'll test your memory,” Barbara tells her sister.

  “Okay, I'm ready.”

  “Do you remember when Dad set up our TV in the attic so we could watch it on weekends?”

  “Sure, I think I was about thirteen when we started doing that. It was fun staying up late.”

  “That's right because I was eleven. Do you remember the first movie we watched?”

  “Uh, no I don't.”

  “I do.”

  “What was it?”

  “It was this,” Barbara says as she reaches for her purse. “Here, this oughta spark your memory.”

  “What do you have? Let's see ... Oh wow, ‘Teenage Mutant Zombies', and two Woody Allen movies, you do remember. Don't you?”

  “Of course, You know what I'd like to do?”

  “What?” Louise asks.

  “I'd like to watch these again with you. Does that sound silly?”

  “Not at all, it sounds like fun.”

  “We'll have some Chinese food and watch them together.”

  “You think Joe would like that?”

  “I don't think so. He reads in the evening. It'll be just you and me.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Barbara says.

  As Barbara and Louise happily reminisce about their high school years both feel a renewed emotional connection to their past and each other, but for Barbara in particular who felt impelled to make this trip to be with her sister, the experience is especially poignant. This night, giddy with the laughter and savored memories of two sisters, will become for Barbara one of the most cherished memories of her life.

  Chapter Nine: A Family Crisis

  The next morning in Beech Grove, a suburb of Indianapolis, Tom and Regina Cooper are feeling very uncertain about the future. Last night after seeing their nine-year-old daughter to bed, Regina Cooper showed her husband the eviction notice delivered by the deputy sheriff. Its impact was immediate, and a tense mood of apprehension has hung uncomfortably in the air since. It seems the Coopers are having difficulty initiating a conversation they both wanted very much to avoid. As their daughter upstairs gets ready for school, Regina Cooper breaks the silence.

  “So what do you think?”

  “I hate to say it but I don't see any solution. We'll have to leave. It's a court order. What can we do?”

  “We have three months to find something.”

  “I don't wanna stay here that long.”

  “Why not? It'll give us more time to save money. We'll be better off if we wait.”

  “I can't live with the idea of this guy Palmer coming into our place with a stranger any time he wants, just so he can sell it and get his commission. The man's a vulture. Look Regina, I know you don't wanna go to Ohio. It's tough starting over. I know that.”

  “Why does that have to be our first option? We have some time to think about this. As far as Scott Palmer's concerned, that's exactly what he wants, to chase us off this property. He works for the bank. That's his angle.”

  “I don't like that man.”

  “Neither do I. So are we gonna let this guy chase us off our property? I don't think so.”

  “I agree with you, but we'll still have to go eventually. What if my uncle changes his mind? I mean living on a farm in Ohio can't be too disagreeable. Can it? I understand it's not your first choice Regina, but we have to do something.”

  “Let's do this, let's wait a few weeks. We just got this notice yesterday. Let's think about it for a while.”

  “What do we tell Angela?”

  “Nothing for now.”

  “We have to tell her sometime.”

  “Let me handle it please.”

  After hearing their daughter descending the stairs, Regina says to her husband in a hushed breath, “She doesn't know about the eviction notice, so don't say anything.”

  As Tom looks at his wife, he hears his daughter's voice.

  “I'm ready.”

  “Did you get enough to eat Angela?”

  “Yes,”

  “Let's go then. You don't wanna be late for school,” Regina urges.

  “Oh, I forgot to ask you something,” Angela says.

  “What's that sweetheart?”

  “There having a field trip next month and they're asking us to sign up if we wanna go.”

  “What kinda field trip?”

  “They wanna take us to the zoo. Can I go Daddy?”

  “Uh, we'll see honey.”

  “I'll see ya later,” Regina says to her husband, avoiding eye contact as she leaves to take her daughter to school.

  The closing door and ensuing silence seem to transform the room instantly, as if his home, the house he lives in, already belongs to someone else. In an almost out of body experience Tom contemplates the room he's sitting in and now sees only a somber reflection of a past that seems to have already slipped away forever. How can he feel an attachment to a place where he and his family have no future. Losing the only home his family has ever known is the biggest financial and psychological setback Thomas Cooper has experienced in his adult life, and though he did everything he could to avoid it, it still represents a measure of personal failure. As he sits alone in the silence of his thoughts, he thinks of his daughter Angela and wonders what he'll say when she asks again about her schools field trip to the zoo next month.

  Hours later, and less than twenty miles from the Cooper residence, Charles Beckler is finishing lunch with his wife in their magnificent lakefront home on Diamond Point Drive. The affluence and financial security of their lives stand in stark contrast to the pecuniary struggles that Tom and Regina Cooper are experiencing. Though he's now well beyond any likelihood of material want, Mr. Beckler is a man who understands the nagging exigencies of economic privation. Charles Beckler's father was a railroad worker and supported his family with a modest income, but after he died when Charles was twelve years old that income disappeared and real hardship ensued for him, his mother and three siblings. This early experience with poverty is something he never forgot. It taught him that circumstances and economic conditions can change without warning and no one is immune from unforeseen misfortune. C
harles Beckler has been tempered by his life experience. As a result, he has acquired wealth without being fundamentally changed by it. Now he's retired and attempting to live a very different life than that of a busy executive, the idea of developing new interests is becoming more appealing. With support and gentle encouragement from his wife, what seemed only weeks before to be an unlikely and difficult transition into retirement is seeming more tenable with each passing day for Charles Beckler. Connie has noticed the incremental change in her husband's mood and outlook. She sees a man a little more relaxed, a little more carefree, and at times even a little more introspective. Connie Beckler knows the small changes she's seeing in her husband are exactly what he needs, and she's prepared to do everything she can to encourage it.

  As they sit together after lunch, Connie comments on her husband's new facial appearance. “Hey Charley,”

  “Yes love,”

  “Now that you've stopped using a razor, do you intend to trim your beard or let it grow willy-nilly?”

  “I don't know. I imagined the freedom to live without a razor was absolute, rather like a statement of uncompromising human freedom. Wouldn't you think?'

  “How would it limit your freedom Charley if you trimmed your beard? Come on, and besides you'll look like a caveman. It might be scary to wake up in the middle of the night and look over at a cave man in bed with me.”

  “It's funny you should mention that. I had a strange dream last night.”

  “What was it?”

  “I was sitting on a dock by a lake. It was a beautiful, warm day. I was fishing. I had a basket of fish beside me and this woman walked up to me and asked me what I was doing. She said ‘why are you still fishing when your basket's already full? You have too many fish in your basket. You can hardly lift it.’ I asked her what I should do with it. She said, ‘Keep what you need and give the rest away.’ I tried to lift the basket, but it was too heavy. I told her I couldn't lift it and she said she would send someone to help me. That's all I remember. It was a strange dream. It was so vivid.”

  “Did you recognize the woman?”

  “No, I'd never seen her before. Her name was Brianna. She was very unusual.”

  “She said she'd send someone to help you?” Connie asks.

  “That's what she told me.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “I don't know. It's hard to say.”

  “Dreams are hard to decipher.”

  “This one seemed pretty real ... Oh well, who knows?”

  “Oh, I forgot to mention, I have to go into town this afternoon. The garden club is meeting today.”

  “I thought they met on Wednesdays.”

  “They usually do but they moved it up a day so the painters can start working on the building tomorrow.”

  “I'll have John drive you.”

  “There's no need. I can drive my car,” Connie says.

  “Why don't you let John drive you? That's why he's here.”

  “What will you do if you have go somewhere?”

  “Don't worry love. I'm home for the day.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course, I'll be all right. Besides, I'd feel better if John drove you in. He's such a good driver. Here, let me get him.”

  As Mr Beckler reaches for the cell phone on the table, he asks Connie, “When do you wanna leave?”

  “It starts at two, so I need to leave about 1:30. I’d better go and get changed.”

  “Hi John, would you get the car ready and take Connie into town today? She'll be ready around 1:30. Uh huh, okay, thanks John.”

  Putting the cell phone down he tells Connie, “it's all set. John'll be ready at 1:30.”

  “Thanks Charley,”

  “I know you're capable Connie, but I feel better when you ride with John.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Besides, he likes driving you.”

  “He's such a gentleman. How long's he been with us now?” she asks.

  “I don't know at least twelve years or so.”

  Connie stands to kiss her husband and says, “Thank you for lunch. I could get use to it.”

  “So could I Connie. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have lunch with.”

  “You're sweet. Have a nice afternoon.”

  “You too love.”

  After a parting kiss from his wife, Charles Beckler sits back and thinks for a moment about his new life of retirement, but his thoughts soon turn again to the dream he had last night. What could it mean? Was it significant or just the random musings of his imagination? This dream was different, not only for its intensity, but in the curious way it abruptly ended. He remembers standing on the dock looking down at a basket of fish he’d just caught and trying to lift it.

  He especially recalls the strange woman named Brianna and what she told him. “You have too many fish,” she said. “Do something with them or they'll rot, and if they do, part of you will rot with them. Don't let that happen Charley.”

  What could she mean by that? The prospect of revisiting this dream is somehow a vaguely comforting notion for him. In its last few moments when he strains to lift his basket of fish, Brianna looks at him intently and with an expression of friendly encouragement says, “Don’t worry. I'll send someone to help you.”

  The immediate effect of hearing those few words brought a calming sense of peace and well-being to his thoughts. Now, remembering the details of his dream, his thoughts are tinged with an imperceptible desire to return to it, but how does one return to a dream? Then the practical side of Charles Beckler's personality asserts itself. He's a realist and accustomed to dealing with matters of choice, necessity and action through logic and objective evaluation. This is the way he's lived his life and successfully forged a long business career.

  Divining the portents of a dream, any dream, no matter how compelling it might be, suddenly seems a pointless exercise of idle speculation. Besides, what could be gained from it? Dreams are wispy, insubstantial and fleeting, and are best left to memory. The real world is what matters. As he looks out on the beautiful lakefront view from his wonderful home everything in his life and world seems tranquil and happy. Everything seems perfectly in place.

  As the leisurely afternoon hours pass for Charles Beckler in his comfortable home near Indianapolis, in another part of the city a different scene is playing out. Louise Robinson and her sister Barbara are spending the last few minutes of their time together before Barbara leaves to catch a flight back to New York. As they sit together on the couch, Barbara glances at her watch.

  “I know you have to go,” Louise says.

  “I still have a few minutes.”

  “I'm so glad you came, what a wonderful surprise.”

  “Next time I'll let you know I'm coming,” Barbara says

  As the two women rise and embrace, they feel that surge of loving mutual affection that the departure of a loved one always brings, and in a soft hush of words intended for the hearer only, Barbara tells her sister,

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too Sis.”

  A moment passes, and it's time to leave. A salutary hug from Joseph and Barbara is ready. She tells her sister, “listen I'll call you later when I get in.”

  “Please do. I’ll walk you out,” says Louise.

  After a final goodbye to Joe, Barbara and Louise exit the house and within seconds are standing beside Barbara's rental car.

  “Thanks for everything.”

  “Thank you Barb, for coming, and thank you for bringing the movies. I loved it. Let's do it again.”

  “We will, goodbye.”

  “Bye bye,”

  After one final, long embrace, Louise walks back to her front door, turns around for one last wave goodbye and then re-enters her home. She glances over to the TV and sees the t
wo DVDs that her sister brought with her. Rushing back out the front door with them, she sees Barbara's car has already pulled away. She closes the door and walks back into the kitchen where she sees Joseph making a cup of tea.

  “Want some tea Louise?”

  “Oh, no thanks.”

  “Well, that was a nice visit,” he says.

  “Yeah, it was. We had fun.”

  “Good that's what visits are for.”

  “I'm gonna take a nap. I'm tired.”

  “You should be. You were up with your sister all night.”

  “Yeah, almost, I'll see ya later.”

  Minutes later Louise is resting in bed and quickly slips into a deep sleep. Several hours pass as she sinks deeper and deeper until the threshold of her dreamscape is reached and she enters. After waking within her dream, Louise Robinson is sitting on the front porch of her parent’s home where she grew up as a child decades earlier.

  She looks out at the driveway where the old station wagon that carried her to so many places is parked. All appears as it did when she was a child; the green bicycle she rode so frequently to the local store is still at the end of the porch where she always kept it; the rose hedge she helped her father plant with its beautiful deep red blooms looks the same as it did when she was a girl. All is as she remembers it. Then a familiar voice calls her name, a voice she knows well.

  “Louise, supper's almost ready.”

  The sound of her mother's call to dinner is as routine and familiar as it had always been. As she sits gazing out from the porch of her childhood home, she sees a woman waving back at her from across the street. It's Mrs Carlysle, a neighbor Louise remembers from her teen years.

  “Hi Louise.”

  “Hi Mrs Carlysle,” Louise hears herself say without hesitation. Everything appears relaxed and casual as if passing time and accumulated age had never happened. All seems routine and unremarkable. A moment passes, and she hears her mother's voice again.

  “Louise, can you help me with something?”

  As Louise hears her mother's request she finds herself in the kitchen standing beside her. A pervading sense of love and deep well-being comes over her as she watches her mother a few feet away washing dishes.

 

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