Mike didn’t follow me.
I hadn’t gone a hundred yards before I realized I had to turn around, return to the car, and sit next to Mike in the back seat for the next twelve hours or so. This was not going to be pretty.
My fuse was still burning when I arrived back at the car. Everyone else was standing around it waiting for me. I figured Mike had told them what had happened. I didn’t look at him. Instead, I walked up to Jamie and asked, “Would you mind switching places with me? I really don’t want to sit in the back right now.” She silently stepped away from the front passenger door. “Thank you, Jamie,” I nodded. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye just yet. We all got into the car in silence and Dad steered the car back onto the highway. Nothing more was said.
◆◆◆
We decided to stop in New Hope, Pennsylvania at the shop where Mary Louise Keller had worked when she’d been abducted. It was located near an old canal and towpath. The wooded area was peaceful and scenic and it was also a beautiful morning to be out walking. Tensions were still a bit high after being trapped in the car all day. We found the store easily and discovered it no longer sold kites and wind chimes. Instead, it was now a women’s clothing store featuring a mannequin in the front window dressed in the latest new wave fashion trend. It looked like a desperate bid for attention to me—even for a mannequin. We decided it made more sense for only Jamie and Mom to go inside and check things out. Jamie would distract the employees while Mom would try to get a reading—Knower-style—on poor Mary Louise.
“Good morning!” Mom said cheerily as she and Jamie entered the shop.
“Anything I can help you find?” asked the blonde, high-school-aged girl behind the counter. She seemed to be the sole employee in the store.
“Actually,” Jamie said, as she followed Mom into the store, “I’m looking for a new pair of jeans. Could you help me with that?” The door closed behind them and we couldn’t hear anything else that was said but we could see Jamie and the clerk talking and laughing on one side of the store while Mom walked slowly around the place touching all the walls and the counter lightly as she passed. Then, she stopped and stood looking at some objects on the counter for a while, gripping the edge and concentrating.
Suddenly, Mike was standing right in front of me. He tilted his head to one side in a motion for me to follow him. I really didn’t want to. My emotions were still too mixed up for me to trust what I’d say to him. I followed him reluctantly down the path beside the lovely old canal.
“I have something I want you to hear, Philip,” he told me.
“I’m not sure I want to hear it right now.” I replied quickly, not looking at him.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I think you’re going to,” he replied. He took a breath and continued. “I came to my Awakening four years ago. I’ve been looking for you ever since then. I would get these flashes of my pasts and you were always there, Philip. Your presence was like a constant in all these crazy lives we lived.” He’d stopped walking and was looking down at his feet. I paused and waited for him to go on.
Finally, he started talking again, “When I recognised you last year, I felt like I’d won the lottery or something. I was over the moon with happiness. Sharing our memories these last few weeks has confirmed what I’ve always known—” He looked up from his shoes to face me: “It’s you—” he said gently. “—you and me. That’s why I keep coming back. Phil, you are the reason I keep coming back—to spend more time with you and get to know a slightly different part of you than I’ve ever known before.”
I began to feel ashamed and unworthy. Mike could never hide the truth from showing on his face and I could see his honesty shining out through his earnest and trusting eyes. I couldn’t stand facing him any more: I was not deserving of such love, so I turned to face the canal.
Mike stepped up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, whispering in my ear, “A thousand years is still not enough. I want more! So, no, I didn’t come on this trip to spend time with your mother. I have my own mother, thanks. I came on this trip because I can’t imagine living here without you. Philip! If you’d been killed when you were shot and I went on to live another sixty years—” he paused, and then added, “I can't even imagine it.” He blew out a long breath past my ear and said, “Okay, that’s it. That’s all I have to say.” He turned me around to face him, his hands on my shoulders and looked at me expectantly. Waiting for me to say something. I know he saw the tears in my eyes.
“I can’t even imagine it, Uncle Ansel,” Katrina says, moving her hands from my shoulders to embrace me. “Okay, that’s it, That’s all I have to say.” Ingmar’s niece is just eighteen and already pregnant with her first child. Her husband sent her out to Washington D.C. to help settle Ingmar’s estate after his body was found. But mostly we’ve been comforting each other.
“I’m just so angry, Trina,” I say breaking away from her, “I know it’s not fair to Ingmar, but I’m furious at him for leaving me here. We’re supposed to be together. What am I supposed to do now? Live the next thirty-five years without him? For what purpose?” Katrina wraps her arms around my waist again and just holds me. “I’m glad you’re here, Trina, I’m so mad at Ingmar for dying, I’d probably be tearing the place up.”
Just then, we heard the tinkle of the bell on the shop door as it opened. “Thank you so much,” Mom said as she left the shop. “Come on Jamie, let’s get going now.” Jamie shrugged her shoulders and gave the sales girl an annoyed look, then left the store behind my mom.
Mom had a hold of Jamie’s hand and she didn’t stop walking. I left Mike standing there on the path and ran to catch up with them. We all kept walking along the canal in the shade of the big, old trees lining the path. Mike caught up with us.
“So,” Mom told us, “I got nothing at all from Mary Luise until I touched the counter. Apparently, it hasn’t been changed. She stood at that counter a lot. She must have worked at that store for a while because there were quite a few little memories there. I didn’t get an impression of friends or family being a part of her life here, though. I don’t think she was part of a pod or even a group of good friends—poor thing. The only relationships I could see were ones with men—boyfriends. She seems to have liked actors. There’s a big theater here in town and she would try to connect with an actor in each show. She was looking for the ones who her Knowledge told her were going to be famous. When the show was over, the men would leave, and she’d start all over again.” Mom shrugged off the memories of Mary Louise and said to us, “That’s it. There’s nothing else. I did get an awful lot from a countertop, though, don’t you think?” she smiled.
“Honey, you’re amazing!” Dad said. “But how on earth did Kominsky find her? With no pod or family around to tell anyone about her being a Knower, it’s a puzzle.”
“I have an idea,” Jamie offered. “Help me work it out,” she said, still holding onto Mom’s hand. Looking at Mom she went on, “You said that she was a specialist at the little read, right?”
“Right,” Mom said.
“But, we’re looking for something special enough to be repeated to others. It would have to be important enough to remember and interesting enough to spread around, right?”
“Right,” Mom said again.
“Suppose she told her boyfriends what she knew? What if she told them, ‘You’re going to be famous one day.’ Or, even better—or maybe worse—she told the ones she rejected that they would never be famous or successful.”
“Ouch!” George said, “That would be memorable, all right!”
Mike said, “And word might spread about the woman in New Hope who could make or break an actor—”
“Yes,” Mom said after this exchange. “That part sounds right. I got the impression that she would really build up her boyfriends while they were together—get their hopes up about fame and fortune—but if she saw they weren’t going to hit the big time, she’d basically dump them. She may have said too much to the absolute wrong pers
on.”
“These are all great insights, everyone,” George said. “Let’s hope they come in handy. But, look, we’re only two hours away from our destination, folks. Let’s hit the road and go have dinner in New York City!” On the way back to the car, I was talking with Jamie, when I noticed Mike walking between Mom and Dad, talking. The picture stopped me in my tracks and Jamie stopped with me, there on the path, next to the old canal, surrounded by grassy areas between the mature trees.
“Roger’s vision.” I said quietly to Jamie.
“What?” asked Jamie.
“The night of the kidnapping. Roger saw my parents walking with Mike. Remember? At least now we know it wasn’t for my funeral, right?” Jamie smiled at me in recognition of what that meant. “Everything’s going to be all-right. I can feel it. Come on let’s catch up!” Laughing, we ran holding hands to arrive at the car with the others and got settled in for the last leg of our drive. We did cruise past the Bucks County Playhouse on our way out of town, though.
◆◆◆
On that last stretch of our drive, Dad told us about the hotel he had made reservations at. Get this: it was the only hotel he knew the phone number for because it had been made famous in an old song. It was called the Statler Hotel now but it used to be called the Hotel Pennsylvania and its phone number was in an old Glenn Miller song called Pennsylvania 6-5000. I guess if Glenn Miller writes a song with your phone number in it, people remember it. I don’t think Dad knew how crummy the neighborhood was when he phoned to make the reservation. The place was across the street from Madison Square Garden where there was a huge sign announcing that Billy Joel would be playing there in a few weeks.
We took our bags and waited in front of the hotel while Dad parked the car. As we stood in front of the revolving doors next to the enormous Greek pillars soaring fifty feet over our heads, I started to have the strangest feeling—it was the strongest déjà vu I’d ever had. When I looked at Mike, he was looking at me and it hit me: This is the hotel where Ansel stayed after the war while he was waiting for Ingmar’s discharge from the Army. It was in this hotel that Ingmar tried to convince Ansel they ought to spend their lives together. Ansel finally admitted to Ingmar that he loved him—upstairs, in a room in this very hotel. The front of the hotel had gotten pretty worn in the thirty-five years since then.
Overcome with this new information, I didn’t stop to think. I sat my bags down in front of Mike and put my arms around him. I closed my eyes and kept him wrapped up in my embrace. He was still holding two or three bags so he couldn’t hug me back but that was okay. I just needed to have him close for a few moments and acknowledge our shared history here at this place. Mom and Jamie didn’t say anything, but I thought I heard a little, “Awe!” from Jamie.
“I don’t believe it,” I said to Dad once we had entered the lobby and after he’d dropped a room key into my hand. Jamie had her own room and Mike and I were apparently meant to share a room. I looked at Dad questioningly.
“Figure it out, boys,” he told me dismissively. “You’ve had lifetimes to work on this. Just don’t let it interfere with our purpose here. Okay?” Jamie was heading for the elevator, trying not to react to everything that she had clearly heard. And Mom was watching George with a little half-smile before she joined Jamie. Mike was two steps ahead of me, literally. He’d grabbed our bags and was heading for the elevator.
“Mike, hold up a minute,” Dad said to him. He was clearly getting ready to make a “Dad” announcement here in the hotel lobby. Mike came back to stand next to me. “I know I’ve screwed up in the past. I’ve kept things from you, Philip. And Mike, in our last time together I abandoned you. I can’t change the past, but I can make tomorrow better, right? Isn’t that what we’re all about? You two literally have centuries of experiences together. You’ve probably done things I don’t want to know anything about. But whatever happens, I won’t disappear this time. I'm here for the duration. That’s it! Go on, now.” Mom came back and took Dad’s hand to lead him to the elevator. Mike and I watched them go.
Mike turned toward me, winked, and said, “Come on, roomie, let’s check out our fancy New York digs.” I just stood there, glued to my spot, looking at the room key in my hand with its large plastic tag that read “Room 427.” The thoughts cascading through my mind at that moment scared me so much I couldn’t move. All of a sudden, Mike was standing next to me. I noticed that the others were already near the elevator, all our bags at their feet. I guess they were waiting to see if Mike could get me to join them.
“Phil,” Mike said gently, “Are you ready to go? We’re all on the fourth floor.” As he placed his hand on my elbow, I looked at him and there it was: that look of pure love I’d seen before—usually when he was concerned about me. That was all I needed, apparently, because my feet began to move and everyone looked relieved.
“Sorry about that,” I told everyone at the elevator. “This place. It holds a lot of memories for me that I think I need to spend some time with.”
The elevator—basically, a glorified silver box on a cable—was small and old. It could barely hold the five of us plus our bags. Once we were all crammed in, Dad took charge, saying, “Let’s all go to our respective rooms, get unpacked, relax, whatever...” He didn’t look at me or Mike when he said it. I guess he was giving us the space and privacy he thought we needed. He added, “Let’s all meet in our room in an hour. We can figure out dinner and what our plan is, alright?”
I mumbled “Okay” along with the others and, once out of the elevator, we went our separate ways, following the small signs to locate our respective rooms. As Mike and I approached our door, the déjà vu, which I was figuring out was really memory of previous lives, struck again. This time I realized that what we were doing—standing in front of the door with the key in my hand—had actually occurred in this same hotel before. But, it had happened to Ansel and Ingmar, not Philip and Mike. It was enough to make my head spin. I actually did feel a little dizzy. “Mike,” I whispered, “I don’t know what…” but he interrupted me.
“I don’t expect anything, Phil,” he reassured me. “The last time we were here, we were older—you were at least twenty years old. We’d just returned from fighting in a war and had seen and done a lot of things that you and I have not even come close to seeing or doing.” He took my hand, then went on, “ You’re sixteen. I’m eighteen. This is all new to both of us, so let’s just see what we see, okay?”
“Okay, ya big galoot,” I said, relieved. Then, as I opened the hotel room door, I added smiling, “Now, get inside.”
“Big galoot?” Mike laughed. “Ansel is coming in clearer than ever!” he said as he entered the room.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mike and I ended up with one of the hotel’s unrenovated rooms. It was small, needed painting, and had a slight sour smell coming from the bathroom. I’d spent the hour before we were supposed to meet Jamie in my parents room unpacking and then relaxing on the one bed in the room. I laid there with my eyes closed trying to figure out what to say to Mike. Finally, I said to him, “Look: I know it sounds lame but I’m sorry about what I accused you of. I think that part of what I’m feeling is left over from Ansel. After Ingmar died, Ansel was inconsolable with anger and grief. I think he was madder at Ingmar for dying and leaving him than he was mad at whoever killed him. I‘m also sure that some of his anger at being left behind when Ingmar died has spilled over into my anger directed at you. I’m getting a little tangled up here.” I stopped and sat up on the bed, trying to straighten out my thoughts. “It sounds like you've spent four years waiting for this perfect person—someone like Ansel—and then I showed up. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who you are. I really don’t know if I even want any of this at all. I mean, I know we have to help stop this guy from killing people, but past that, I just don’t know.” He sat there listening patiently while I stumbled through my confused monologue. “Just because we spent our lives together before doesn’t mean we have to
again, right?” I paused to breathe. I couldn’t look at him. Then I went on, “No,” I insisted, “I need to decide for myself. My life now is more important to me than a hundred past lifetimes.” I finally looked at him and added, “I hope you understand that.”
Mike nodded “yes” but he didn’t actually say anything. Then he picked up a change of clothes he had set out along with his shower kit and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door. I felt badly for hurting his feelings, but I felt we were getting closer to our truth, whatever that was.
◆◆◆
An hour after we’d first arrived, the five of us gathered in my parents room. “Are we anywhere near the Brooklyn Bridge?” Jamie asked. “I heard you could walk over it. I would really like to do that.”
“I don’t know where the Brooklyn Bridge is,” Mom answered, “but the Empire State Building didn’t look too far away when we pulled up in front of the hotel. Can we eat there maybe?”
I was sitting so close to Mike on the side of the bed that I could smell his slightly spicy, still-wet hair. We hadn’t talked about what I’d said in the room earlier. We hadn’t really talked at all, but I needed him to understand that how I spent my life had to be my decision. He did smell good, though.
“Do they even have restaurants there?” Dad asked her. “How about we just start walking in that direction and see what we find?”
I was so distracted by my thoughts and by Mike sitting next to me that it was hard to pay attention to anything being said. Our shoulders had been touching, and I realized that I’d been leaning on him when he jumped up, and I almost fell over on the bed.
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