by John Coyne
“Oh?” Jennifer looked over at Eileen. From where she was sitting, she could see her right profile.
“You know Kathy is concerned about you,” Eileen said.
“Yes, I know. Is she this concerned about your well-being, too?” Jennifer shifted around and rested her chin on the back of the driver’s seat.
“Yes, I think so. Habasha says that I was once in King Louis the Fourteenth’s cavalry. That must explain my love for horses. Anyway, Kathy was my commanding officer and I saved her life. That explains why she is linked to me. And look at us, you and I. Why were we so close in high school? Why did we just—you know—pick up afterwards? There’s a reason. It’s not coincidence. We’re totally different people. My parents weren’t wealthy; yours were. I was raised a Unitarian. You were what, nothing?”
“I wasn’t nothing!” Jennifer answered back, laughing. “I was raised a Lutheran. And Lutherans believe in God. I do!” she added defensively. “So there!”
“So there yourself!” Eileen answered back.
They rode in silence for a moment, watching the highway ahead of them. There was very little traffic, and Eileen was speeding in the left lane, passing an occasional car. At that moment, Jennifer felt happy and secure. She had turned her life over to Eileen and Kathy Dart. They had answers about what was happening to her, and that was more than she had herself.
“It’s scary sometimes, I know,” Eileen said softly. “I remember one of the first sessions I went to with Kathy. A man there was having trouble with his wife and teenage daughter. There was a great deal of bickering, he said, and he couldn’t understand why. None of them could, really. Well, Kathy used acupuncture on the man to release his past. It was scary. I had never seen anyone being pierced with needles, but it didn’t seem to hurt him, and then when Kathy began to lead the man back through time, he reached this point where he was an Indian living on the plains. In that lifetime the soul who’s now his daughter was his wife. That was the problem. His wife today was jealous of their daughter because she was her husband’s lover in America before Columbus landed here.”
“It all seems so crazy,” Jennifer whispered, doubting for a moment why she was going to see Kathy Dart, why she needed to see the channeler.
“It’s not so crazy. Reincarnation is a part of every religious tradition.”
“I’m just having such a hard time rationalizing it.”
“That’s the trouble. You shouldn’t try to rationalize reincarnation. You’ll see, once you speak with Habasha. Then you’ll understand why you are on earth. And what the purpose is for all your heartaches and joys.” Eileen was speaking curgently now, with conviction. “If you believe in reincarnation, all the coincidences have meaning.”
“That’s what I don’t like,” Jennifer spoke up. “I don’t like thinking that all those coincidences are linked together. It seems too planned, too neatly worked out to be real.”
“But it makes sense, Jenny. Your spirit is created by God, or whoever, and it passes through lifetime after lifetime. The spirit never dies, but it keeps changing. You’re born a man. You’re reborn as the same man’s great granddaughter. It’s wonderful when you step back, when you think of all the possibilities, and the wonderful art of it, really.”
“Maybe it’s not so wonderful,” said Jennifer. “Maybe somebody’s ‘soul’ has come back from another life to kill me.”
“Easy, Jenny. We don’t know that.” Eileen shifted again into the left lane and passed a long distance trucker. As they sped by, the driver blasted his horn. The noise startled Jennifer, and she spun around and gave the finger to the truck driver.
“That wasn’t such a great idea,” Eileen said coolly.
“Why? I hate it when jerks like that think it’s cute to harass women drivers.”
“Yes, I know, but now every trucker on Route 80 is going to be watching for two women in a gold ‘87 Buick.”
“How? What do you mean?”
“CBs, honey. They’re all linked together.”
“Damnit! You’re right.”
“It’s a long trip, and these guys have nothing else to do but amuse themselves. Don’t worry. We’ll avoid their hangouts. It’s okay.”
“Thanks. I guess I’m like someone’s obnoxious teenage daughter.”
“Well, you might have been mine.”
“Yes, I know. In another life.”
They both laughed and then fell silent, watching the white lines flash beneath the car as they sped west, and listening to the hum of the tires and the wind whipping against the windows. It was cozy in the station wagon, and Jennifer slipped down into the sleeping bag and curled up in its warmth.
“Do you mind if I go back to sleep?”
“Please do. I’d like you to drive later, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” mumbled Jennifer, already half asleep.
“Sweet dreams,” Eileen said, glancing back. Jennifer had closed her eyes. She couldn’t see that the smile was gone from Eileen’s face. Her high-school friend’s bright green eyes had glazed over and were as cold as crystal.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
“WHAT DO YOU THINK, Jenny, are we ready to stop?”
Jennifer glanced at the dashboard clock. It was six o’clock, and Eileen had been driving in the dark for over an hour.
“Yes, I guess. I need a drink and an early evening. Have we covered enough territory?”
“Yes, you made good time on the second leg. We’ll catch the turnpike first thing in the morning and be just south of Chicago by tomorrow evening.” Eileen moved the station wagon to the right lane. “I’ve stayed at the Howard Johnson at this exit before,” she explained as she exited Route 80.
Jennifer, now sitting in the front seat, watched Eileen’s profile reflected in the windshield. They took the brightly lit exit, then turned right at the intersection and drove into the Howard Johnson parking lot. “What are you looking at, Jenny?” Eileen flushed under Jennifer’s steady gaze.
“I was just thinking that you’ve been incredibly nice to me, that’s all.” Jennifer usually found it difficult to tell people how she felt, but she had always been able to talk to Eileen, ever since they first sat next to each other in their freshman home-room class.
“Oh, you’d do the same, if I needed help,” Eileen said quickly.
Jennifer saw that her eyes were glimmering with tears. She reached out and squeezed her friend’s arm as they pulled into a parking space. Then, as she reached to open the car door, she said, “Let’s check in and then hit the bar.” She stopped and turned back to Eileen. “Do you mind if we share a room? I mean
” Jennifer looked away, suddenly embarrassed. She saw several men opening the trunks of their cars and taking out luggage. “I mean, I’m still a little nervous. I’d feel safer with you sleeping in the same room.”
“Sure, of course. I hate traveling alone, myself,” Eileen answered quickly. “It’s scary, all the weirdos out here. You never know.”
“Listen!” Jennifer said, laughing. “The weirdos I can handle. I’m worried about Mr. Nice Guy.” She lowered her voice as they entered the hotel lobby. “I’m afraid I might cut off his balls if he steps out of line.”
“It would serve him right, cheating on his wife,” Eileen replied.
The vodka on the rocks made Jennifer giddy. She was telling Eileen about Bobby Scott, a boy they had gone to school with, and how he had tried to kiss her underneath the stadium stands when they played Westbury for the division championship. “Here I was trying to go and take a pee. It was cold, remember? And he just wouldn’t let go. I started to cry from pain.”
“He was not too smart, Bobby.”
“Whatever happened to him, anyway?” Jennifer stared down at her menu and tried to concentrate. Now that they were out of the car and in the warm hotel, she suddenly felt very hungry.
“Oh, he married Debby O’Brian. Do you remember her?”
“He married Debby? She was such a sweet girl, with that beautiful long red
hair.”
Eileen nodded. “He went to Queens College, then married her, and they had four kids quick as rabbits. She was a big Catholic. Anyway, now he works for Goldman Sachs. I hear he owns a brownstone and is worth millions.”
“Well, good for Debby.”
Eileen shook her head. “Oh, he dumped her for someone else, a real hotshot investor herself. I met them both a few years ago at a benefit. He was with his new wife, who bought junk bonds, or sold them, or something, and she and I talked. The men were working the room, you know, and here was this woman—Rita, that was her name. She was so unhappy she started to cry, right there in the Grand Ballroom of the Waldorf.”
“With millions of dollars and a brownstone! Why?”
“Bobby beat her. She told me it was the only way he could get it up. Here we were two strangers, and she unloads this gruesome story on me.” Eileen shrugged, then sipped her drink. “She had to tell someone. She was so pitiful and desperate, and I, at least, had known Scotty when he was a kid.”
Jennifer sat back in her chair. She remembered Bobby Scott and how he hadn’t known how to kiss her, or any girl. She remembered again the beer on his breath on that cold Friday night. She had kissed him back just to get rid of him. “Maybe it was my fault,” she joked. “Maybe I shouldn’t have played so hard to get.”
“People choose what they want out of life, Jenny. That’s one of the first things you learn from Habasha. People choose their parents. They choose their lovers and their friends. They choose because they need to fulfill whatever is unresolved from a past life.” Eileen set down her menu. “I think I’m going to have chicken,” she announced. “I never get anything too fancy when I’m eating on the road.”
“Choice, and deciding for others, is all based on experiences from previous lives,” Eileen continued after they had ordered.
“I don’t get that. What do you mean?”
“Well, take us. Who was class president?”
“I was!”
“And I decided you should be.”
“Eileen, don’t be silly!” Jennifer leaned forward. She had had too much to drink and was trying to keep her voice down. “It was my clique, you know that.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I don’t believe this.” Jennifer sighed, baffled. “I remember everything about high school. Everything! It was one of the happiest times in my life. I mean, why would I screw up something like that? I remember when I decided to run for class president. You were the newspaper editor; Karen was in charge of the yearbook. And if I could be president, then our clique—my clique!—would control the senior class and practically all of Shreiber High.” Her voice had risen, and she saw out of the corner of her eye that she was attracting attention. Several diners looked up from their meals, and two men at the bar swung around to stare at them. Jennifer realized suddenly that she and Eileen were the only single women in the restaurant. She lowered her voice.
“Jenny,” Eileen said slowly, “let me tell you a story and see if you recall it. Okay?”
Jennifer nodded. The two drinks had given her a slight headache. She reached over and took a sip of water and saw that her hand was trembling.
“Do you remember our junior year?” Eileen asked.
“Of course.”
“Do you remember Sam Sam and when we went to Jones Beach?”
“Yes! Sam Sam!” Jennifer smiled. It was a name she had forgotten, the girl from Thailand who had been an exchange student at their school.
“Do you remember what happened to Sam Sam, Jenny?” Eileen asked. The waitress had returned with their food, and Eileen was calmly unfolding her napkin, watching Jennifer carefully.
Jennifer shook her head. She could picture Sam Sam, a small girl with beautiful long black hair, pretty brown eyes, and a wonderful smile.
“You don’t remember those jerks from Bay Shore? Those three bikers on the dunes? You and I and Sam Sam were on the beach that Saturday, sunning?”
“Yes, I do!” Jennifer said, suddenly recalling. She remembered then the young hoods swaggering along the beach. They looked so weird coming through the sand in their tight jackets and their long hair. They had wandered down to the patch of sand where she and Eileen and Sam Sam were stretched out on blankets.
“And one of them called Sam Sam a nigger?”
“Yes,” Jennifer whispered.
“See, Jennifer, you do block events, don’t you? We all do.”
“I was so afraid,” Jennifer confessed.
“But do you remember what you did?”
Jennifer shook her head.
“You stood up to all of them, told them off, and told them you’d have them all arrested.”
Jennifer nodded, smiling, pleased to recall the long ago incident. “I guess I did. I was so scared.”
“And I was so proud of you. I remember Sam Sam thanking you. I decided then you should be class president. I told everyone what you had done.”
There were tears in Jennifer’s eyes. “She was really lovely. I wonder what happened to her.”
“She was killed in an auto accident in Thailand when she was nineteen.”
“Oh God! No! How do you?”
“We wrote once a year or so, and then her brother wrote saying she had been killed.”
“I can’t believe it. Little Sam Sam.”
“It’s all right,” Eileen said quickly. “She was reincarnated as a member of a royal family in Asia somewhere. Habasha told me. Within our lifetime she’ll be a great leader of her people. We didn’t lose Sam Sam. She simply went on to a better life, a more important and perfect life. It was her destiny. You must learn to accept this, Jenny. Let life happen to you. Know in your heart that all these events—good and bad—will pass, and that you, too, will pass into other existences, other worlds.”
Jennifer sat back in her chair, shaking her head. “It’s all so strange.” She looked away from Eileen, glanced around the room, and saw that the men at the bar were watching them, whispering to each other.
“You’re just not ready, that’s all.” Eileen reached over and seized Jennifer’s wrist. “But you have great ability, Jennifer. Your electromagnetic frequency is much better than mine, more powerful, perhaps, than Kathy Dart’s. She has said as much to me.”
“I can’t do anything,” Jennifer whispered back across the table, “except kill people.”
“You have only destroyed what needed to be destroyed. You have only rid this world of individuals who needed to be reincarnated as better, purer spirits.”
“I can’t channel. I don’t know—”
“I understand.” Eileen broke in. “You can’t summon guiding spirits the way Kathy does. But you’re gifted in a way that she isn’t. You can ‘see,’ Jennifer.”
“Then why didn’t I see that guy with the club? The one that hit me?” Jennifer had raised her voice again, disturbed by Eileen’s certitude.
“As I said, you weren’t ready,” Eileen answered calmly. “I have a feeling that soon we’ll know why you’ve been singled out. There’s a connection somewhere.” Eileen, excited, was waving her hands and inadvertently summoned a busboy carrying a coffee pot. “I’m sorry.” Eileen laughed. Both she and Jennifer began to giggle, exhausted by their long drive, their drinks, and the intensity of the conversation.
“Excuse us,” Jennifer said, recovering, “would you please have the waitress bring us the check?” She smiled warmly at the young man, who stared blankly at both of them and then wordlessly walked away.
The waitress approached then with a tray of drinks. Jennifer looked up and shook her head. “We didn’t order another round,” she explained.
“The gentlemen at the bar asked if they might buy you all a drink,” the waitress said, leaning over to set down the glasses.
Jennifer stopped her, saying quietly, “Please thank the gentlemen, but we don’t accept drinks from strangers.” Although she did not glance over at the men, she knew they were watching, and at once she felt her pulse quicken
and her blood surge.
“Jenny, easy,” Eileen whispered, “let’s not—”
“It’s okay, Eileen,” she said calmly.
“Jennifer,” Eileen whispered urgently. “Let’s not have an incident with these jerks.” She reached over to grab Jennifer’s hand and immediately pulled away, her eyes widening, as she caught the look on Jennifer’s face.
“Get me out of here,” she told Eileen.
Eileen had her purse open and was dropping money onto the table. Jennifer stepped around the table and rushed for the door. She would be all right, she kept telling herself, if she could get outside, away from the two men at the bar. It was only a question of control. She had to control herself. Nervously she licked her lips.
“Hey, honey, what’s the rush?” One of the men had come off his bar stool. He was a big man, the kind who had played football in school, and whose muscles had since turned to fat. He had no neck and a brick-shaped head.
Jennifer made it out of the restaurant and turned down the long, red-carpeted hallway that led to their room. But if he followed her, she realized, he’d know where to find them. She stepped abruptly out of the hallway and into the small alcove that had the ice and Coke machines.
“Hey, I’ve got some rum to go with that Coke of yours,” the man said, turning the corner. He wore steel-rimmed glasses that pinched his face. He was grinning.
“Please, go away,” she asked, refusing to look at him.
“Hey, honey, Pete and me, we just wanted to buy you and your girlfriend a drink. Jesus Christ, you could be a little sociable. I mean, we aren’t out to rape you. Hey, here’s my card.” He flashed a small white card from his vest pocket. “The name’s Buddy Rich. No relation, right? I’m the district salesman for Connect Computer.” He seemed to swell before her. “We’re the largest computer firm east of Illinois, servicing hospitals, universities, major companies.” He had blocked her from the exit as he waved the card in her face. “Take it!” he ordered.
Jennifer took it from him.
“There! That’s not so bad, right?”