A Journey of Souls

by Michael McKinney

  “What the hell is he doing here this early?” Tom asks.

  “I have no idea.”

  “I can't deal with that man right now.”

  “Let me go see what he wants,” Regina says.

  As she leaves the kitchen, she calls up the stairs to Angela.

  “Angela we have to go.”

  Thinking her daughter is upstairs in her room, Regina walks outside to see why Scott Palmer is here. She says nothing as she sees him taking pictures of the house.

  “Mrs Cooper, I'm just here to get some pictures of the outside of the house. It'll take about twenty minutes and I'll be gone.”

  “Okay.”

  With the quick exchange over, Regina turns and goes back into the house and tells her husband, “He’s taking pictures of the outside. He'll be gone in a few minutes. So, why don't you just relax, stay inside, have some coffee. When I get back we can talk this over, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Good, I'll see ya later.”

  Regina takes the car keys from the kitchen table and walks to the stairwell.

  “Angela, we have to go ... Angela.”

  Hearing no response Regina goes upstairs and knocks on her daughter's bedroom door.

  “Angela, Angela,”

  When Regina opens the door, she instantly sees the room is empty and suddenly fears that her daughter is not in the house. After a quick room to room search, she comes downstairs and tells her husband, “Angela's not upstairs.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I don't know.”

  “She's probably outside.”

  Quickly going outside they both look and see only Scott Palmer still taking pictures. Regina calls to her daughter as Tom looks down the street in both directions.

  “Angela, Angela,”

  Fear becomes something closer to panic as they hear no reply.

  “Maybe she's in the garage,” Tom says.

  “Go look.”

  As Tom hurries inside to check the garage, Regina takes another look both ways down the street and sees nothing. It's not like Angela to leave the house without saying something. If Tom doesn't find her in the garage, then it's time to call the police. As Tom looks, Regina checks once more behind the house and still sees nothing. After returning to the front yard, she starts back to the door, and sees Tom coming out.

  “She's not there. We have to call the police,” he says.

  Tom turns and goes back inside to make the phone call. As he does Regina looks once more down the street and sees her daughter making her way up the sidewalk with an older man she's never seen before. A powerful intuition seems to assure her that her daughter is perfectly safe. She calls to her husband who is unaware of Angela's approach.

  “Tom, It's okay. She's here.”

  “What?”

  “It's okay. Here she comes.”

  As Tom returns outside, he sees Angela walking hand in hand with a bearded man in his pajamas and reacts predictably.

  “Who's that guy she's with? I'm calling the sheriff.”

  “Don't do that.”

  “Look at him. He's a derelict.”

  Regina sharply tells her husband, “Don’t do that. Trust me.”

  Within seconds Angela and her new friend are standing in front of the house. After embracing her child, Regina asks, “Where did you go? We were worried sick about you Angela.”

  “Are you all right honey?” Tom asks his daughter.

  “Yes,”

  “I found her sitting on a bench a few blocks away. She looked like she was lost, so I walked her home,” Charles explains.

  “Well thank you, we appreciate that,” Regina says.

  “Angela tells me you're having trouble.”

  “Well, it's nothing you can help us with, but thank you for bringing our daughter home. We're very grateful.”

  “Your daughter told me you're losing your home. Is that true?”

  “I'm afraid it is,” says Regina.

  At that moment Scott Palmer comes from behind the house still taking his pictures, and Charles asks, “Who’s he?”

  “He's from the bank. He's the one handling the foreclosure,” Tom says.

  “Is that why you have this moving van parked here?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Well, what's your preference, to move somewhere else or stay here? Your daughter certainly wants to stay.”

  “We'd much rather stay of course, but we can't afford it,” answers Regina.

  “You have a mortgage on this house, don't you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which bank?”

  “First Capital.”

  “First Capital holds your mortgage?”

  “Yes,”

  Pointing to Scott Palmer, Mr Beckler asks, “and you say he's in charge of your account?”

  “Yes.”

  “What's his name?”

  “Palmer, Scott Palmer,” Regina says.

  “Well he's the man we wanna talk to.”

  Directing his attention to Scott Palmer, Charles calls to him from across the lawn.

  “Mr Palmer, can I talk to you please.”

  Tom and Regina exchange uncomfortable glances as he approaches.

  “Yes.”

  “You're handling the foreclosure on this house as I understand it. Is that true?”

  Annoyed by what he regards as an impertinent question, Scott Palmer eyeballs the figure standing on the sidewalk ten feet away. He sees an older man in coffee stained pajamas with an eight day beard and disdainfully asks, “Who are you?”

  “I'm Angela's friend. That's all you need to know. You work for First Capital. That's Jack Pearson's bank. I'm on the Board of Directors at First Capital.”

  “You're on the Board of Directors at First Capital?” Palmer incredulously. asks.

  “That's right.”

  “Oh really, and my name is Abraham Lincoln. Look I'm busy, if you'll excuse me.”

  Scott Palmer turns to Regina and says, “I guess someone left the asylum door open this morning.”

  His mocking humor finds no response, and as he turns back to the house, Mr Palmer sees an impeccably clean, black class E Mercedes Benz smoothly pull up beside the bearded man in pajamas who takes little notice of the luxury sedan. Surprised, all focus their curious attention on the neatly dressed driver as he emerges from the car, all except Charles Beckler who tells him, “Hey John, I'm glad you came.”

  “I thought you might need me, sir.”

  “I do, thanks.” Turning to Tom and Regina, Mr Beckler says, “This is my driver. He keeps me from getting in trouble. John, can you get Jack Pearson on the phone? I don't wanna use the car phone. Get him on your cell phone if you can. Do you have his number?”

  “I'm sure I do, sir.”

  “Good, call him at home. He never leaves his house before ten.”

  As John takes out his cell phone and dials the number, it's becoming abundantly clear that the odd looking man in coffee stained pajamas is much more than he appears to be. Tom and Regina Cooper say nothing as they see Mr Beckler take the phone from his driver, and as he does, an uneasy apprehension comes over Scott Palmer when he hears Charles Beckler say hello to the president of the bank where he works.

  “Hey Jack, how are ya? ... I'm doing all right. Listen, this is not the reason I called but I wanna say again how much Connie and I enjoyed ourselves at your daughter's wedding ... Absolutely, it was a beautiful ceremony. ... Oh, I know. Now you tell that new son-in-law of yours that if he ever needs a job to come see me ... Well, you tell them both good luck for me. Listen Jack, the reason I called is, I'm standing in front of a residential property that your bank holds the note on. What I'd like to do is to pay off the balance. I know you don't have the paper work in front of you so, .
.. uh huh, ... That's great Jack I appreciate that. So, you know my driver John. ... Right, ... I'll have John bring this young man to your office and you can take care of it, if you would please.”

  Covering the phone with his hand , Mr Beckler looks at Tom and asks,

  “What is your name?”

  “Uh, Tom Cooper, but sir, we owe seventy-two thousand dollars on this house.”

  “His name is Tom Cooper, Jack. ... No keep it in his name. I have enough to keep track of. ... Thanks Jack. ... No, we'll get them over there right now if that's convenient for you. ... Well, I'm not exactly dressed for it. If you have any papers you want me to sign just send them back with John, and we'll take care of it. ... I'm really grateful Jack. I appreciate that. Hey, when are you and Mary coming over for dinner again? ... I hope so. ... Really, yeah, Connie wants to go back to Australia for a few weeks. ... Oh I know she deserves it. ... That'd be great. Okay, thanks again Jack. Oh, I almost forgot. Do you have a man working for you by the name of Abraham Lincoln? ... I'm serious that's what he said his name was. ... Well he's standing right here. You wanna talk to him? ... Here he is, the one and only Abrahaaaaam Lincoln.”

  Scott Palmer is visibly nervous as he takes the phone from Mr Beckler.

  “Good morning Mr Pearson. ... Yes sir. ... My name is Scott Palmer. ...Yes sir. ... Oh that, well sir, we were just kidding around. ... Yes sir, ... I will sir. ...Yes sir, goodbye.”

  As Scott Palmer hands the phone back, he says to Mr Beckler, “well uh, if I can do anything to help.”

  “No thanks, we don't need your help,” Mr Beckler says dismissively, and then tells his driver, “John, I want you to take Tom over to Jack Pearson's office at the bank. He's expecting you both. Pay off the balance on his mortgage, and if uh, Abraham Lincoln here was due a commission on the sale of the house, pay him off too.”

  “Yes sir, will I be taking you home first?”

  “No, I'll have Connie come by and pick me up in her car. She won't mind.”

  “I have to ask you. Why are you doing this? You don't even know us,” Regina says.

  “You're right. I don't know you. What's your name?”

  “Regina, Regina Cooper and this is my husband Tom, and our daughter Angela. What's your name?”

  “My name is Charles Beckler. Well, now we do know each other. As to why I'm doing this, ... I have too many fish in my basket Regina, ... and now I have a few less. ... Tom have you ever worked in a warehouse?”

  “Yes, yes sir, I have.”

  “I need a warehouse manager. I don't know if you'd be interested or not but —”

  “Yes, I would certainly be interested.”

  “Good, then we'll talk about it later. Right now, you and John need to get over to the bank and get your business done, and I need to get home.” Mr Beckler directs his attention to his driver, “John will you call Connie and tell her to come get me? You'll have to give her directions.”

  “Mr Beckler, I'd be happy to take you home. Please, after what you're doing for us, please let me at least do that for you,” Regina asks.

  “Well, sure, it's about twenty miles way. I'm on the lake off of Diamond Point Road.”

  “It's no problem at all.”

  “All right, you can meet my wife. Hey, let's do this, since you'll be taking me home, after Tom and John are done at the bank, they can come over and we'll all have lunch together,” Mr Beckler says. Then after looking at Angela who is smiling broadly, he checks himself. “Oh I forgot. Angela has to go to school.”

  “Mommy, I wanna go.”

  Reaching to embrace her daughter Regina says, “Well, this is a special occasion, so today we'll make an exception.”

  “Well good, it sounds like a plan to me. John, I'll see you and Tom later.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Tom Cooper, who's been mostly aloof, asking himself, ‘Is this really happening?’ suddenly feels the urge to speak.

  “Before we go, I wanna say thank you Mr Beckler for what you're doing. You don't know what this means to us. This is like, it's like a dream come true. I can't, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, how much we appreciate this.”

  “I understand,” Mr Beckler replies.

  “I wanna start paying you back as soon as I can sir,” Tom says.

  “We'll work it out later Tom.”

  Tom offers his hand to Mr Beckler. “Thank you Mr Beckler, thank you so much.”

  “You're welcome Tom, you and your family. Listen, you and John better go, and we'll see both of you at the house later on.”

  “Thank you again sir.”

  “It's all right. Well Regina, do you need a few minutes before you run me home?”

  “I'm ready Mr Beckler anytime you are.”

  “Okay, well let's go then.”

  “Please come in for a minute while I get the car ready,” she says.

  As John and Tom walk toward the limousine, and Mr Beckler, Regina, and Angela move to the front door, Charles Beckler stops and looks over at Scott Palmer who's been passively witnessing what has taken place. He then walks over to him, leans and whispers in his ear.

  “You know what? I knew when I first saw you that you weren't Abraham Lincoln.”

  With this parting witticism, Mr Beckler turns and walks away. After John and Tom drive off, and Regina, Charley, and Angela go inside, Scott Palmer remains standing alone on the lawn. Moments later, he gets in his car and drives away.

  Meanwhile, in that world imperceptible to the senses, Brianna and Calvin are walking on the same path by the lake they took before, but this time heading back in the direction they came earlier. They again pass the dock where they saw Charley standing with his basket of fish, but as Calvin sees the dock is now empty.

  “There was a basket of fish on that dock when we passed here before. It's not there now.”

  “That's right Calvin. It isn't. Charley and Louise have carried it away.”

  “Where is Louise?”

  “She's visiting another dreamscape and another dreamer. Her work is just beginning. She'll give her counsel to hundreds in a single night.”

  “How is that possible?” Calvin asks.

  “We're in a place where a thousand lifetimes can pass in an instant, and the briefest moment can take a lifetime to pass. Linear time doesn't pertain here Calvin.”

  “It's remarkable. Louise is now a dream sentinel.”

  “That's right.”

  “Will most of the dreamers she visits take her counsel?”

  “Most will not.”

  “Why is that?”

  “In the temporal rush of their passing lives, most people are too distracted to harvest the meaning of their dreams.”

  “Well, I know I have a lot to learn.”

  “We all do Calvin. Love and knowledge, which is another way of saying spirit and mind, grow in these two things and you'll live in harmony with your destiny.”

  “I think I have a long way to go,” Calvin says.

  “The journey is the destination Calvin.”

  “Where are we going now?” he asks.

  “We have to meet our next arrival.”

  Chapter Eleven: The Racist

  Another beautiful afternoon is unfolding for Tracy Freeman at her rural home twelve miles west of Blakely in Early County, Georgia. Mrs Freeman and her husband Tyler live a comfortable life of retirement and have resided in the same small rural community for their entire lives. Living only minutes from the Alabama state border, the Freemans have deep roots in a traditional southern culture that goes back for generations on both sides of their marriage, with ancestors who fought in the Civil War. In the twentieth-century, Early County was anything but quick to accept the changing politics ushered in by the social protest movements of the 1950s and 60s for expanded civil rights. By choice and preference, the pace of chang
e for those living in this southern rural county has always been slow.

  Tyler Freeman and his family have always played a prominent role in county politics and have wielded considerable influence in what and how things get done in Early County. Tyler Freeman's great grandfather made his fortune in textiles and provided a comfortable legacy for his descendants. Deeply conservative, the Freemans have always been active in their local church and with like-minded members of the congregation, have resisted any changes in their local government. This meant stiff, unyielding opposition to any effort to expand the civil rights of minorities. Tyler Freeman has chosen to accept his ancestors’ disdain for the ideals of racial and economic equality. His influence and ardent participation in local politics ensures that any prospective candidate who hopes to be elected is well advised to ask for his endorsement, and today he's expecting a visitor who's coming for that very purpose.

  As Mrs Freeman returns to the house after retrieving the mail, she sees a car pull in with a young man driving. After parking to the side, he climbs out and she greets him.

  “Hello, you must be Mr Edmonds.”

  “Yes ma'am, please just call me Bill.”

  “Well it's nice to meet you. My husband's expecting you. Come on up.”

  “Thank you ma'am I appreciate that.”

  Seconds later after following Mrs Freeman to the porch, she introduces Billy Edmonds to her husband.

  “Tyler, this is Billy Edmonds.”

  “Hello young man, sit down please.”

  “Hello Mr Freeman, it's good to meet you sir.”

  “Well what's on your mind today Billy?” Mr Freeman asks.

  “Well, to get straight to the point; I'm givin’ serious thought to runnin’ for sheriff here in Early County and I'd like to get your opinion on that, if you'd be good enough to tell me.”

  “Why sure, be happy to, I don't know if you're aware of it but my grandfather used to be sheriff here in Early County.”

  “Yes sir, I did know that.”

  “He was the best sheriff this county ever had. Nathan Bedford Freeman was his name. He didn't put up with any nonsense. They used to hang trouble makers back then, Ku Klux Klan was very active.”