by T. Jones
Callie's Secret:Part 2
Revelations
Chapter One
Bess Fisher stretched, yawned, then poured herself a cup of coffee. She walked to the back door of the kitchen, stepped into the unheated porch, and picked up the newspapers stacked there. The porch was nearly as cold as the morning. Historically, the coldest week in Minnesota was still two weeks away, but the ancient thermometer hanging next to the screen door leading outside could only manage to squeeze its red mixture above the ten below mark. The rolled newspapers readily gave up their cold to her touch, nipping at her fingers, and she tossed them quickly onto the table, then spread them out according to thickness. She rubbed her fingers together briskly, dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster, then wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, sipping slowly on the scalding liquid.
The town paper had dwindled in size the last few years, with the proliferation of online options, but the local owner clung stubbornly to his commitment to his readership, and refused to shut down. National news took a back seat to stories of local interest. Most of what she saw on the front page she already knew from her afternoon sessions with the girls from her church. Every tidbit of information, or misinformation found its way into her living room sooner or later. Sandwiched between complaints about husbands, gossip about the unfaithful, and the price of soybeans, Bess occasionally ferreted out items of interest to her. Small things, that set her mind into motion, and gave her glimpses of things coming. Most were of no consequence, or futures she preferred not to engage with, but sometimes, she used her special talents to help in small ways. On this day, she had more interest in the Minneapolis Tribune.
The front page was fluff. The lead story was the cold that had descended from Canada, escorted into the state compliments of an Alberta Clipper, so named for the continual thirty mile an hour gale that drove the wind chill down to dangerous levels. The picture under the headline showed a rotund man who looked to be in his sixties, struggling to chisel ice from his windshield, while managing to keep the cigarette he had dangling from his lips lit. Bess rolled her eyes. It didn't take any of her considerable psychic abilities to know that he was bound for intensive care, if not shortly after the photo-op, then very soon. The Vikings had won three straight, that was always news, more in Sports, the caption said. There were several small leads, and she took the time to read them, perused the obituaries, then moved on to the business section. She found the stock listing that had piqued her curiosity the last few days, and wondered if perhaps Teresa Blackburn also currently had her nose buried in the financial section.
Reading the newspaper everyday had been Bess's idea. When the group was in its infancy, just the Council and half a dozen Sisters, as they would come to be known, she had realized that many of the triggers that started the process, came from reading about events in the newspaper, or from stories on the evening news. There was little structure in the group back then, even less than existed at present. In the beginning they were all just Sisters. But as things evolved, it became clear that she, Teresa, and Deeann, had abilities that differed somewhat from what the other girls exhibited. The three, along with Madeline, seemed better able to recognize the details of an event, once it had been identified, and to work out a potential correction. But their 'sight' was limited to events that would occur soon. The Sisters, because of some quirk, or psychic phenomenon as yet to be discovered, saw things at a greater distance, sometimes years in the future, but without the clarity of detail given to the Elders. The girls all started off calling them the Council, but as younger girls joined, it became the Council of Elders, tongue firmly in cheek, since no one in the group was over twenty-five.
At first, it was like an unorganized science experiment, trying to figure out how best to connect with the future. The Sisters would come to Bess or Teresa, sometimes alone, sometimes as a small group, and tell their stories of some impending disaster, big or small. Then, Bess and Teresa would follow up, often with the help of Deeann and Madeline, and try to envision more of what was to happen. The Sisters might see a helicopter crash, then the Elders would try to determine when and where, and if it was possible to prevent it, and sometimes, decide if they should or not. Not every act of Fate was correctible. Bess had her doubts that it was ever a good idea to tamper with the destiny of others, but doing nothing was often difficult. When faced with the knowledge that a car full of teenagers would slide off the rode on an icy corner and plunge into the frigid waters of a river, not acting seemed out of the question. A few bags of sand, along with Deeann Long driving her Mercedes slowly down the middle of the rode, and the catastrophe was averted. It seemed like an easy decision, and for Teresa it was. Bess wondered each time they interfered, if cheating death, when it was foreseen, was interfering with God's will. Or as Teresa always pointed out, were they actually just doing his will? No one knew where these premonitions came from, she argued, possibly God was just showing them things that he wanted corrected.
Bess and everyone in the group was aware that her abilities went well beyond the others, including Teresa and Deeann's. But she never used that as justification to take control and make all the decisions. There was talk of selling their services, playing Psychic Detective, or working for the government. Teresa, saw great promise for the group, she advocated often for stepping in, changing the fate of hapless individuals, without anyone's knowledge or gratitude. She said they would be the Robinhoods of Destiny, saving the rich and the poor from unjust and randomly cruel acts of Fate. It was hard to argue with success, but Bess worried constantly about the futures they couldn't see.
***
Bess knew early in life that she had some odd remarkable insight, some gift that gave her a window into events that hadn't yet occurred. She had realized it as she entered high school, with the help of her best friend Madeline Rice, who had it too. Their gifts were similar, but different in some aspects. Bess often sensed what people were thinking, not in words necessarily, but in waves of emotion that told her their story more clearly than speaking. Madeline, was intuitive in her own way. She was all cute smiles and comically large ears, talking in her gentle, warm voice. People flocked to her, eager to share any number of trivial or dark secrets with her, simply for the asking. Even Bess wasn't immune, confessing when asked, that she had a mad crush on the boy Madeline had been dating, one Bob Fisher. Madeline's plans didn't include anything serious, and she stepped back. Soon Bess and Bob were on a path that would eventually lead them to marriage. They all went to the Twin Cities for college, Bob and Bess to Augsburg, Madeline to the University of Minnesota.
They were Juniors in college, and Madeline had stopped to have coffee with Bess, when Teresa Blackburn first walked up to their table. She stood gaping at them, not saying a word. It was Madeline who asked her to sit and tell them why she was there; and, of course she did. They talked all afternoon, about the strange abilities they shared, and what they might do with their gifts. It was college, and optimism abounded. Perhaps, once they fully understood these abilities and the connection they shared, they could change the future, better lives, save the world. Teresa knew of another girl who had abilities similar to hers, and the beginnings of an idea formed. They would band together to try to prevent the haphazard vagaries of Fate, and change the tragic outcomes their visions often showed them. Bess saw the perils immediately, the potential for unintended consequences, and the implications of interfering with what might be God's plan. Teresa wanted to rush ahead, start using the combined strength of their abilities, and the two had long heated arguments that even Madeline couldn't mediate.
But Bess agreed that not using their gift at all seemed like a waste. They set about finding more people like themselves. Once the task was de
cided and they all bent their will together, new members to their little society began to seek them out. By the time senior year was beginning, the group was growing rapidly, and they had begun to put their abilities to work, experimenting at first with trivial things when they could. But the intuitions and visions usually pointed to events in people's lives of significance, important life changing events. Bess Fisher's life was irrecoverably changed that year. It defined her for many years after, and drove her from the Sisters, back to her small home town in west central Minnesota.
***
Rainey Wheeler sat next to Bess in her Economics class. She was the last person Bess could see as any kind of business major. Art History, French, or Women's studies possibly; but never things related to mathematics in any of its forms. She was a free spirit, in every sense of the word, a misplaced Hippie born twenty-five years too late to join the bead wearing, flower crowned generation to which she belonged. Her mother, likeminded, had named her Rainbow, but someone had mercifully decided on the nickname. She reeked of patchouli oil and marijuana, and always had a smile and a vacant look on her face. She had dark oily hair that fell most of the way down her back when she stood, and wore loose, full length dresses in what Bess knew was an attempt to hide her large posterior. She had shared this with Bess, as she shared practically everything else in her life, before, during, and after Economics. When she wasn't whispering to Bess, she was staring with adulation at their instructor. She had confided to Bess that she and the Professor had developed a relationship not based on Economics.
"You know he's married, right?" Bess asked. "It's in the faculty guide."
"He left his wife before he moved here, Bessie. Don't you think he's the coolest?"
"No, as a matter of fact I don't. He's forty-two years old Rainey, why would you want to go out with somebody that old?"
"You know I'm an old soul, Bessie. In a past life we were soulmates, I'm sure of it."
"Stop calling me Bessie, it makes me sound like a damn farm animal. And I don't believe in past lives, I'm a Lutheran, we're way too sensible for that crap."
"I've always been attracted to older guys. But he says we have to be careful, he'd get in a lot of trouble if anyone knew we were together. I know you wouldn't tell anyone."
"What's your Mom say about it?"
"She's like, whatever makes you happy, Rainbow."
"Bullshit, she doesn't even know, does she."
"Well, not exactly."
"Isn't that bad Karma, or something, lying to your parents?"
"Wow Bess, don't be so judgmental! You'll see, Henry is going to change my life."
"Probably, but maybe not in a good way."
Professor Henry James, an unfortunate name for an Economics teacher, was from Boston, not England, as Rainey kept insisting. He was a slight, wiry looking, bespectacled man, with a tiny mustache and half a head of hair. Bess found him singularly unattractive, and occasionally nasty. But the heart wants what it wants, and Rainey assailed her with stories of several private meetings she had with the Professor. She insisted that some things were just meant to be. Bess knew that concept only too well.
One afternoon, when Rainey's incessant whispering made them both miss a major point of the lecture, the two girls stayed after class to talk with Henry James. The tension was palpable. The Professor was trying very hard to act aloof and unaffected for Bess's benefit, while still being careful to offer his young amour a suitable amount of attention. Rainey had little interest in the question Bess was posing, and stood smiling demurely at the Professor. Her books were tucked in the crook of an arm, and as she stared stupidly at the Professor, they tumbled out suddenly, slapping noisily on the floor. She bent down quickly and picked them up, then looked for a place to set them on the desk. The Professor's stapler sat on the corner of his desk, and he snatched it up, lifting his arm and smiling at Rainey, a small gesture of chivalry that wasn't lost on the girl. Bess saw him lift the stapler and saw the leering grin. In her mind, the stapler suddenly looked like a club of some sort, the smile a grimace of hate and anger, as the Professor bludgeoned Rainey on the head in a fit of rage. Bess bit her lip, drawing blood, to keep from crying out at the intensity of the unexpected vision. She stood staring at them, shaken, trying to concentrate on what the Professor was saying while the scene played over and over in her mind.
***
Callie Fisher was doing her best to ignore her girlfriend. Jenny Mconvil sat with her legs crossed at the foot of the bed, back propped against a pair of pillows leaning against the wall while Callie burrowed deeper under the covers. "Come on, not counting my thumb, you have a one in four chance of getting it right, what kind of psychic are you?"
Callie tried to ignore her, but the redhead tugged on the blankets, and Callie gave up. "It doesn't work that way Jen, it's really random. Things just kind of hit me, and a lot of the time I dream about weird stuff that I don't understand until later. If I could do it on command, I'd be out buying lottery tickets."
"Okay, but maybe we can train you. What am I thinking, right now." She crawled back under the covers and pulled Callie close.
"That's pretty obvious, but stop! We have to talk about what we're going to do. I'm moving out of my dorm. I can't go back there, it reminds me too much of Natalie."
"They can't expect you to, right? Will they just give you a different room?"
"No way, there's a waiting list. I'm going to tell them I'm moving in with my uncle. They'll have to let me out of the lease, considering the circumstances. I can find a place, and I'm sure my Dad will kick in what he'll be saving. I still don't know if I want to go back. If I do, and I have my own place, are you going to come visit a lot, or you could just stay with me."
"I said I'd come with if you want me to, but I'm worried about my Mom, my grandmother I mean. I don't like the idea of her being here by herself all the time."
"She's been your Mom for twelve years Jenny, might as well call her that."
"Have you seen anything about her? Is she going to die soon?" Jenny's eyes grew wide.
"No Jen, I haven't. A lot of my dreams are vague, it's hard to figure out what they mean. Like I said, I can't decide what to dream about, they just come."
"So, I shouldn't ask you this---"
"Don't Jenny!" Callie scolded her softly. "Even if I'd known, nothing would have changed for the baby. The doctors all said that he wouldn't have made it no matter what. He was born with too many problems. His brain was bleeding. You said it yourself, some things are just Fate, and sometimes there's no changing it." Callie was relieved that Jenny didn't tear up. The redhead frowned a bit, thinking.
"So, these Sisters, can they really change what is supposed to happen?"
"That's a good question, Jenny. If you change the future, then the old future no longer exists, right? Maybe what they're doing just makes something happen the way it was supposed to all along, but no one knows for sure. There have been a thousand science fiction movies about it."
"Well God knows." Jenny said casually. Callie smiled, tossed the covers back, and slipped out of the bed.
"Okay, next time you talk, let me know what he says about it. Or she, whatever gender your deity is. Until then, I'm going to sit down with my Mom and see what she knows about all this. Sometime in the next week I'm going to the Cities and talk to Danielle, and maybe Teresa."
"Danielle! Isn't she that tall, gorgeous woman you were telling me about? The one you slept with?"
"She's my Travis, Jen. Nothing to worry about. She actually has a spare bedroom if I want it." Callie had her back to Jenny. She smiled, expecting the reaction she got.
"Bullshit! That's a whole lot different, I never slept with Travis. I don't care if it was before we got together, I will kick her ass if she tries anything with you again."
"You won't say that when you see her. She's like the Sister's enforcer or something. She could kick both our butts with one hand. I would never stay with her unless you were there too, or at least okay with i
t. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, I'm going to sit down with my Mom and have a long talk about all this Sisters stuff."
"I can't believe your Mom was one of them. She seems so normal."
"What, and I'm some sort of freak?" Callie reached out to take Jenny's hand, trying to drag her from the bed.
"You are a freak if you get up this soon. Come back to bed for a while."
***
Callie waved to Jenny as she pulled away from the curb. Although it was below zero, Jenny stood on the front step of her house in her socks, her new necklace hanging over the top of her housecoat, smiling and waving. The girl's enthusiasm never stopped amazing Callie. Amazed summed up the last few days for Callie.
The night she had seen Travis kiss Jenny, she was sure that she was losing her chance at love, sure that it was what she had coming. But remarkably, Jenny had come to her, convinced her that she was loved, and that she deserved to be. Being in love with the person you were sleeping with was new for Callie. She had been fond of Abby, and Danielle was an enigma, but it was so much better with Jenny. It was terrifying too, knowing that someone could rip your heart out if they chose. Jenny had said that nothing would change how she felt, and Callie had explained about the Sisters and about the visions she didn't always understand. But she hadn't told her about Davis Cooper, or how she had sent him after Greg. That would be too much, even for Jenny. Callie decided to try to put that behind her, try to learn from it and never repeat a mistake like that again. It would just be one of those secrets that her mother talked about. A sin that only God could forgive.
Callie parked her car in her parents' driveway, and walked into the kitchen through the back door. Her mother sat in her usual early morning spot, several newspapers scattered in front of her, coffee cup close at hand. Callie kissed her mother's cheek and went to the cupboard. She pulled out a loaf of bread, put two slices in the toaster, then opened the refrigerator and pulled out the butter and a small tub of yogurt. She started stirring the yogurt, watching her mother skimming the three different papers she had laid out. Her toast popped up and she buttered it, added a little strawberry jam, then sat down at the table across from the older woman. Her mother glanced up, smiling.