Vanessa

by David Howells

Chapter 4 – 1 PM

  The line of reluctant soldiers had reached Cedar Creek, the halfway point. Private Cooper spurred Freedom on ahead to ride next to his Commander. They passed the time with commenting on the things they had seen change over the many years along the path. At least that gave some sanity to the insane sameness. When they had exhausted that avenue, “Elijah, I know the names of my men, their wives and girlfriends, children, pets, horses, occupations, dreams, parents and relatives, and committed it to memory. This is more my family than my past family now. You and the others have become the sons I never had. I want you to know that there isn’t a finer group of men 1 would want to ride with, dead or alive.”

  Elijah had heard it before, in different words. It had come to be understood that one of their number, their Judas Iscariot, was not included in that platitude. Still, it gave the Private from Farmington, Massachusetts, strength of heart. His Commander was a good man back then, and he still was one now. “Private, four hours before SHIELD-WALL.”

  The flagpole story had to be retold for Rachel. They moved back to Gustav’s office, and Allen pulled up the great, great grandfather picture from the MiDi data and enjoyed seeing her mouth drop as his had. He wished he’d brought a camera, or that his SatCom hadn’t been temporarily locked away for this meeting. It would be a start on getting even with his Mom for showing Melissa his baby picture, featuring his first diaper rash. He could still hear Melissa’s laughter. Between that, the sour note that they had left on and the rapidly broadening scope on his experience meter, Allen had little desire to get back to RPI.

  Ryan held up his hand. “What you have heard so far may have you thinking that these are the craziest or most miraculous things you have ever heard. Well, you haven’t heard the half of it.” A look from Rachel to Marianne earned a confirming nod in return.

  “Residual essence after death is not a new thing. Séances, ghost stories, research grants and more are all evidence of our credulity regarding the existence of spirits. There are several categories of entities. One group’s tie to the world that keeps them here is some kind of unfinished business. They remain to attain a goal they missed in life.

  “Others remain because they are unaware that they have died. Usually, they lost their lives too quickly to realize what was happening. Some argue for a third group, where extreme violence brings up a residual harmonic of a spirit OR event. That one is usually where someone might repeat an action daily, or on an anniversary date. Those can be the most difficult to deal with.

  “Some people have dedicated their lives to study these phenomena. Far fewer in number are those who are trying to help them. The problem is that it is difficult to communicate with entities, which, for the lack of a better word, is how I refer to them. Communicating with them doesn’t seem to be a problem for me, not since that Navy mishap.”

  Rachel asked, “You’ve seen others, besides Vanessa and Dr. Morrison?”

  “Rachel, I’ve interacted with, to date, four hundred and ninety-one.”

  Allen was doing his level best to keep a balance of sanity and perspective. His mother held Ryan’s sanity and perspective suspect. Yet, Marianne and Gustav seemed to fully accept Ryan and what he was saying, and both of them seemed like normal, reasonable, sane people... but this was pushing things too far! Rachel had to put her foot down.

  “Mr. Fitzgalen, I can’t take more of this on your say-so. I need iron clad proof, now, that what you are saying is true. I’m really doing my best to stay open, but can you show me something I can see, or feel?”

  Marianne looked at Gustav and mouthed, “Oh, no.”

  Ryan sighed. “The hard way, then. Rachel, I had thought that seeing my picture in your family-tree records and knowing of your plug-switching would suffice. By the way, Marianne, I know why you did that. I’m not angry. In fact, Gustav and I earned it.” Marianne smiled graciously at the concession.

  Ryan continued. “Have you ever heard of a poltergeist?” Allen and Rachel had both read of those mischievous spirits that could wreck a room faster than toddler triplets on a sugar binge, and so both nodded. “Spirits are like people, each unique in abilities, strengths and awareness. Some can affect their environment, like poltergeists, and others can plant thoughts in your mind. Some are better at becoming visible to the clairvoyant or at being heard by the clairaudient; with a rare individual being able to alter the way they appear to the sighted. Vanessa, well, even among the unique, she is one in a trillion. Dear one, would you oblige? Something subtle this time, please?”

  There was a glass of Gustav’s ice water set on the coffee table (he refused to call it that, being a dyed-in-the-wool tea drinker). He had just set it there a moment before. Ryan’s eyes went to it and everyone’s gaze followed his. The glass moved a little and then began to rise by itself into the air. The two uninitiated were the most affected, with Allen repeating a mantra using words that might have gotten him a tongue lashing in any other circumstance. Rachel was experiencing that unique dream feeling where her mouth kept forming words, but nothing came out.

  The glass rose above head level of the seated witnesses, and then floated over towards Rachel. The half full glass of water and ice cubes then tilted and spilled, right down the front of Rachel’s dress. The cold was the only thing that kept Rachel from fainting on the spot. Allen didn’t have that advantage.

  Ryan said, “Marianne, be a dear and help Rachel into something dry. Bring her back when she is coherent, please.”

  Marianne whispered to herself, “Vanessa, you can be a real bitch when you want to.”

  “Would you like me to christen Allen, too? It might wake him up.”

  “No, let him rest. It’s been a long two hours and he has a big decision to make when he wakes up.”

  “Oh, really? What might that be?”

  “His two hours are up and they are both free to leave. Thanks to your melodrama, they probably WILL leave. I couldn’t blame them.”

  Gustav was used to this. It must be what it was like to work at a mental health institution, where the clients often talked to the air. He let Ryan have his conversation with witchy-woman, while he took paper towels to the water not absorbed by Mrs. Gladstone.

  Annie sat on the front porch chair and turned her eyes north. “Damned Yankees! Why couldn’t they just go home and leave the South in peace? What’s the big to-do about maintaining the Union anyway? North and South are nothing alike, so let them be in peace, for Heaven’s sakes! So many boys are gone now, so many fine boys. Poor Katherine Mearkle, losing both Matthew and Kevin at Shiloh, then her husband captured and imprisoned at that forsaken Camp Douglas.” She looked at her own children playing, always playing. She still had her blessings with her, like always. Annie smiled.

  “Now look what you did.” Ryan continued, with Allen still on mental holiday and the only other conscious person present being Gustav.

  “I don’t see what you have to complain about. Mrs. Happyrock should have all doubts removed now, not to mention her blouse. Thought that would please you.”

  “It’s a good thing Marianne keeps spares in back for fashion emergencies, and no, it did not please me at all. Knock it off with the jealousy thing, will you?”

  “Anyway, those women, who are far too young for you, will further bond by exchanging clothing. It’s been a time hallowed ritual of adolescent females for centuries.”

  “What about Allen? He’s not bonding with much of anything at the moment.”

  “Poor boy needed a breather to gather perspective. He’ll be the better for the nap. You’ll see. Trust me. Have I ever lied to you?”

  Standing at the doorway were Marianne and Rachel, the latter sporting a (dry) flowered shirt and gray skirt combination that was feminine, but professional. Marianne caught the half-conversation taking place. She touched Rachel’s arm and whispered, “Listen...”

  “Not on purpose, but your take on what the facts are is somet
imes on a shaky foundation.”

  “Are you calling me a ditz? You? A man who runs into flagpoles when a proper lady shows up in his Jeep?”

  “Of course not. All I’m asking is that you tone it down a bit. This isn’t The Three Stooges.”

  “Of course not, silly, I can count. There are four of you. ”

  “Dammit Vanessa, when are you going to get it into your head that not everything is a joke?”

  “Life’s a joke, Love, and the punch line is that everybody dies. So stop taking it so seriously. Loosen up a little.”

  “THAT’S IT, Vanessa, you just gave me the clue I needed to find out what you were before!”

  “Really! You’re serious? Please, TELL me!”

  “A pain in the ass.”

  “Marianne, what’s going on? Why is Ryan squinting and holding his fingers in his ears?”

  “Ooh, she didn’t like that one. OK, let’s see to Allen. Witchy woman will vent for a minute, then she’ll calm down and be reasonably civilized for a while. Never lasts, though.”

  Gustav finished his mopping and joined the ladies, who were gathered around the limp figure, who was muttering soft, unintelligible sounds; a sure sign of consciousness returning. Gustav had emergency care training and had checked Allen over earlier. “He’s fine, just needed down time to reset the circuit board.”

  Allen’s eyes opened and he saw his mother’s face. He smiled, reassuring Rachel’s instinctive protectiveness. “Hi, Mommy.” That didn’t sound quite right. “Can we have oatmeal today?” That was definitely not right. Rachel gave Gustav the evil eye.

  “Fine, huh? Where did you get your medical training? Quack U.?”

  Gustav didn’t answer the rhetorical question and just patted Allen on the side of the face a couple of times. “Wake up, Allen, you’re not in Kansas anymore. Come on, we need you back up to speed.”

  “Huh, Gustav? Mom? What’s going on? I - holy shiooot,” he corrected, remembering his mother was present. “Did I really see that? Mom, are you OK?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. It was just a minor chest cold.” Marianne snickered. Allen blushed. Gustav pretended not to hear. Ryan was preoccupied.

  Allen looked around, “Hey, what’s with Ryan? How come he looks like that?”

  Rachel smiled, “I got the cold, he got the heat. Seems he hit Vanessa’s hot button while you were out.”

  “I FAINTED? Gaaa, what a woose! Mom, PLEASE don’t tell anyone! No one else went out?”

  “No, Dear. Marianne, Ryan, and Gustav are apparently used to this sort of thing. As for me, Vanessa’s method of proving her existence kept me conscious.”

  Marianne looked over at Ryan again and giggled. “As our esteemed employer is often heard to say, there is rarely a blessing that doesn’t have a curse on the flip side of the coin.”

  Allen followed her gaze. “What’s the blessing?”

  “Being the only one able to hear Vanessa.”

  “And the curse?”

  “Being the only one able to hear Vanessa.”

  Ryan opened one eye and looked at Marianne. “Oh, what she said about you. Are you really Sicilian slum spawned?”

  Allen opened his mouth, but stopped mid-breath, his mind shifting. “Vanessa? Wait a minute!” Mistaking his meaning, Vanessa stopped her unloading and looked at him. Could Allen hear her? “That’s the name of my great, great grandmother. That’s who Vanessa is, isn’t it? But how can that be if, the first time you met her, she was...dead?”

  Rachel’s mouth dropped. Why hadn’t she realized that? Too busy not trusting people to think. Back in her still-in-session mental parliament, Cat was looking chagrined. Angel was just beaming with ‘Told you so’ written all over her face. That made Cat all the more vexed. ‘Gotcha’ was her game, not Angel’s!

  Annie paused at the mantle and looked at the painting. What a fine husband. A good provider; a gentle man. “The painter did your eyes justice, those blue pools under bushy dark brows.” She remembered the first night she looked at those eyes at the cotillion. Who would have thought someone so strong looking could be so light on his feet? “How jealous those other girls were when you strode up and asked me to dance.”

  Annie closed her eyes and relived those moments. The band had played the favorites of the day; the Japanese lanterns provided the most romantic lighting to the way Archibald looked in his uniform. She hummed the tune they had first danced to. The notes were memorized and, even though she knew it was The San Bernardino Waltz, she just called it ‘Our Song’. That was title enough for her.

  “Allen, Rachel,” Ryan began, “...a decision has to be made. Allen and I startd our meeting two hours ago, plus fifteen minutes. You have met your obligation to me and may now leave without any loss of college funding. I haven’t done this purely out of love for Carl. I want Allen to take Carl’s place.” Both Rachel and Allen shut their mouths when Ryan raised his hand and said, “Hold your comments. I’ll answer your questions, in my way and time, if you will just be patient with an old man. Carl wasn’t just a figurehead to protect me from the public. He was a diligent and hard worker, one of the best. There are not many I can trust with this position. Allen, you were chosen out of eight potential relations, some you know, others are distant cousins that you have never met. Because you are Carl’s son, I have a sentimental attachment to you, but that is NOT the reason you were chosen. You have maturity; you are able to keep your head and your tongue when things are going haywire. The fainting was justified, so not to worry on that one. Were I in your shoes, well, just remember who dances with flagpoles. Vanessa is your great, great grandmother, as you surmised. She thinks you’re handsome by the way and says that you should ‘ditch the bitch’. Someone you have a relationship with at RPI?”

  “She knows Melissa? HOW?”

  “Vanessa is an invaluable asset for information gathering. For example, her detection of your mother’s eavesdropping.”

  Mother and son were close enough so that the way they processed information was similar. Allen learned how to organize thoughts and use them to best advantage the trial and error method all children used in getting what they wanted from their parents.

  Rachel rarely let her son win an argument unless he really won. Tears didn’t work. Big eyes and ‘pleeeeze’ were useless. Nothing was purchased or done just because everyone else had hitched his or her wagon to a given fad. In the process, Allen had not only won for himself a wonderfully logical mind that would have stood him in good stead in any debate society. He had also learned to take a good hard look at what he really deemed important. ‘Things’ were rarely supportable as essential. ‘Experiences’ were much easier to document as positive and worthy.

  Three partners watched as a mother and son’s eyes defocused, with passive faces belying rapid mental events underneath.

  Rachel: “Allen heading a business; interfacing for Ryan? What does Ryan do that he has to hide from the public? Carl often worked late and was gone for days at a time to seminars and meetings. What were those meetings actually about and is there any danger to Allen? Does he get to finish school and what say do I have in this? When does this take place, what role will I play, if any? Vanessa - how in the world...?”

  Allen: “This is more than running a business, this goes deeper. How deep, and am I more than a keyboard tapper here? How did Vanessa know Melissa? Did she visit me and, Good Lord, what did she witness? Can she see with the lights off? Ditch the bitch? Probably right on with that one. Do I need to make a decision between RPI and this? Can I do both? What about Mom? She has always been there for me. So many things to take in, too many for perspective. Go with my feelings then. The answer, only one I can make, I choose...”

  “OK, Gramps cubed. If you believe I can do it, I’ll go with that. I want to go on, but I don’t know what I’m going on to. When I saw you back in 4th grade, your face stuck in my mind. I remember now seeing i
t from time to time in dreams. It never frightened me.”

  Ryan arched an eyebrow. “So sue me. He’s one of the few I can do that with. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “I’ve got some ground rules of my own. You OK with that?” Ryan nodded. “I’m no robot. You say I’ve got a good mind, well then let me use what I have to help in my own way. I’m willing to learn, but also I want to contribute. I don’t know what it is that you do, but something tells me that it’s important.”

  Ryan smiled. So did Vanessa. “So much like his father. He’s going to do us proud, Love.”

  Gustav looked on with a passive professional ‘listening face’, but Marianne knew the signs. “They’re both old paternal softies, God bless them.”

  “Next, my Mom. We’ve seen each other through some pretty tough times. I want her in on this.” At this, Marianne, Gustav, and Ryan all shared looks of ‘What the...’

  “Hear me out, folks. Look, when Dad was working with you he was running himself ragged for years. Mom said he had precious little time for his family. That means that the workload was pretty meaty. Am I right?” Nods. “I’m guessing that things have gotten bigger and more complex since Dad died. If you want a structure to function, you need good people who are used to working with each other, who mesh. I’m used to working with Mom and she obviously meshes with Marianne.” Ryan and Gustav’s eyes were absolutely merry and Marianne had a smile that bridged happiness to mischievousness. “Mom, you do a lot for the community with your volunteer work. Let’s look at this together. If it clicks, I could sure use your help.”

  The old music drifted through Annie’s mind, mixed in with sounds from the strangers and the new help. “Mrs. Anita Edwards is shown here in a painting with her husband, Colonel Archibald Edwards, the plantation owner. He had this commissioned when they visited Paris on their honeymoon.” Annie smiled. “Their children, Jason and Rebecca, died under the hooves of one of Sherman’s foraging parties. One of the soldiers saw Mrs. Anita Edwards and took her into the house, apparently to take advantage of her.” Annie’s eyes began to glow with flame. “He took her life in the effort, but this fiery lady managed to place a kitchen knife into his abdomen, and that’s how the soldiers found them. Major Covington had ordered Mrs. Edwards to be buried with her children. Private Jed Patterson was buried alone, near the barns.”

  “I got him good, didn’t I? Killed him like the pig he was. But...he didn’t...didn’t...die?” She looked down at her dress, still torn from her resistance to the beast. “No sense changing now. They’ll he here soon. Let it remind him of his shameful acts.”

  Annie stepped back to the porch, confused. “But, how can that be? I killed him sure. He’s coming back and he’ll bring the rest of the lot. Have to protect the home, stop them, make them pay for what they done, but...” For a moment, the madness left Annie’s eyes. She walked back to the porch and looked to her children, who stopped their play and looked at her, hopefully.

  “Can we come in now, Mommy? We’re tired of playing.” She almost said yes, but such moments never lasted long.

  “You go on and play till your father gets home. I’ll bring you your dinner later and we’ll have a picnic.” The hope in the children’s eyes dimmed and they went back to play, as always, following a daily ritual that they wanted no part of. Neither did the mounted men who would come, soon.

  Rachel was as proud as could be. Her son was taking a stand for his beliefs, contributing and aiming at serving a greater purpose while following in Carl’s footsteps. Then she stopped. What about Frank and his two children? That thought opened the private floor for debate.

  Cat stood up on all four paws: “Did you hear that? ‘His’ two children! They’re not ours, are they? We haven’t been their Mom for long and we will never be their real mother. She gets them a third of the time. They call us by our first name, like a nanny.”

  Angel stood up, angry enough that her wings were molting. “But we took vows with Frank! Doesn’t that count for something? What kind of example would we set for Allen by abandoning Frank?”

  Cat couldn’t answer that one. It was a stalemate, threatening to degenerate into an ‘on-the-other-hand’ debate quagmire.

  Referee had to take charge: “Table the discussion. It’s possible we can participate with Allen and not be removed from Frank and ‘his’ children. Even if we are not called ‘mother’, we have accepted a duty to them.” Angel looked at Cat, stuck out her tongue and issued a holy “Nyah.”

  “Allen, I would love to help. You have to keep in mind, though, that I have other duties to Frank, Janet and Jerry. Can you accept my participation with limitations?” She turned to Ryan, who was standing next to her son. “Can you?”

  Allen smiled, nodded and then turned his gaze to Ryan, who was pleased at having tables turned on him. “You’re right, Allen, things have gotten more difficult and I have been taken away from my real work too often. Rachel, you would be welcome here. It’s the least I can do to make up for the shabby way I treated you. Please forgive my preoccupation with security.” Ryan extended his hand and Rachel took it. Both were pleased to find a firm and warm grip on the other side.

  “Gustav?” she said.

  “I’ve been pushing the old skin-flint to hire more staff for the last decade and a half. Welcome, Frau Gladstone!”

  Allen said, “Vanessa, if you can hear me, I would like your approval as well. Seems to me like you are a part of the team and one that I would like very much to get to know better.” Allen’s eyes widened, then he placed one hand on his cheek. “Ryan, did she just...”

  “Never saw her do that to another man. For Vanessa to make a physical contact, she has to concentrate very hard. It’s difficult for her. She kissed you, Allen.” Eyes all around began to mist, but mischief was in Vanessa’s mood. “Oh, and Allen?”

  “Yes (sniff).”

  “She says you need a new razor. Now, you pointed out two important things for us to address. First, how did Vanessa become your, grandma cubed? I like that. ‘Great, great’ grates. Second, what are your duties and how does that tie into what I have referred to as my ‘real work’? Both of these are hereby declared overshadowed.” Blank stares and questioning looks. “Dammit, I’m hungry! Change of venue. Everyone, please, up and out the door.”

  When Ryan commanded, it seemed natural to follow. Outside the door was...“The limo. I might have known. Boss, you might as well buy one for what you pay out on them,” laughed Marianne.

  “I had our room at Pavelli’s reserved under Gustav’s name. Roscoe is on tonight. It’s business and I need deductions, so everyone make sure to order something expensive.”

  Rachel muttered, settling into the limo, “It’s going to take me a year to sort out things. Oh…is Vanessa here with us, in the limo, I mean? Oh dear, do I talk to her? It feels so disrespectful to talk about her like she isn’t here. Is she?”

  Ryan understood...it was all part of the process. “Rachel, she’s not in the limo, at least for the moment. I asked her to check on the progress of one of my projects. She’ll drop in when she feels the desire, later. You’ll get to know when she shows up. You can speak directly to her and I’ll let you know what she says. Vanessa is very intelligent, once you get past her offbeat sense of humor. A warning, though. She is the first entity I’ve met where we haven’t found out her previous life’s story. She’s still really sensitive about it, as you may have noticed. It’s not out of spite that I bring it up and she usually realizes it once she calms down. I try to prod her, on occasion, hoping to spark a memory fragment, something we can work on.”

  Allen raised a hand. “Still in college, Allen m’lad?” thought Ryan.

  “If she has no recalled history and has abilities to physically do things on our – plane, and she can hear what all of us are saying and carry on full conversations with you, Ryan, is she a spirit or something els
e, like an alien or an angel? But wait, you said she was mortal, human.”

  “Hold on boy.” This time from Gustav, who had been taking a vacation from chatting for the past twenty minutes. “You are going to have to take this course by course. Boss, correct me if I’m wrong, but you have a few tales to tell before we get to what Allen’s asking, right?” A nod and a smile. “Right. Here we are at Pavelli’s. Let’s let it go for a little while and get some victuals on board, yes?” There wasn’t a single dissenting vote.