Carter attempted to break this down into simpler terms. He decided that he needed to somehow locate his father’s spirit in order to prove that it was a separate entity from that of his own. He needed to know if and how his mother had died, and if her death preceded his adoption.
“But what about the house image I got…and the mountains?” he asked.
Brenda adjusted her whole body to answer. Her life now became a part of this circle as it seemed to Carter that she craved answers as much as the involved party. She strived for answers as if she had a vested interest, but Carter believed Brenda was merely excited about applying her newly acquired knowledge, and he felt that he probably couldn’t have gotten this far without her. He became fascinated with Brenda’s knowledge, which to him felt like a psychic touching on intimate truths.
“Those pictures could be due to psychic powers you don’t yet know you have,” said Brenda. “People sometimes get flashes of events before they actually happen. These future events, if they are disastrous, have been prevented.”
Carter smirked, to which he sarcastically replied, “But if they’re prevented, how would anybody be able to prove that the events were gonna happen to begin with?”
Brenda paused for several seconds. “Very funny Carter, but intuitive.”
Carter probed deeper than she cared to go, like a dangerous manmade human attaining knowledge. She knew a lot, but by no means was she an expert.
“My point being that future life flashes or past life memories, one or the other, could very likely explain your flashes,” Brenda began. “It would have to be one of those because you claim to never have been to Colorado or anywhere west of…the east coast. If that diary is revealing your biological parents, then you either have a photographic memory as a baby, or you carry the memory of your father… you are the reincarnation of your dad. As otherworldly as this sounds, and as close as it appears to proving your father’s experiment a success, I still find it very hard to believe the concept possible…not to mention…hard to prove.”
Carter shifted nervously and said, “I hate to admit it, but it does appear to…”
“Be a case for reincarnation,” Brenda finished. “Psychic powers are a mystery as well, and we cannot discount that, but we could be barking up the wrong tree entirely. I mean, Buddhism is one of the great philosophies of the world, and some reincarnation cases sound pretty damn convincing, but maybe those diaries can assist you.”
“It’s pretty freaky.” That was all Carter could muster. He tried to replay the events, which would have occurred in his life, if reincarnation played any part whatsoever. “Say I was my father,” he continued, “and I was killed…in an accident. My consciousness hovered in limbo, awaiting the opportunity to return to earth as my son, which is me. I know that my consciousness survives death. Been there, done that, so I return into any womb I choose. If I choose to return as my own child, then I do so, and proof comes as I remember my father’s life even though I never really lived when he did.”
“You’ve got it,” Brenda said with a smile, like a proud teacher to her student.
“But what if another soul slips in before I get the chance?”
“Stop it.”
“Seriously. Maybe that’s how multiple personalities are formed.”
“It’s never happened to my knowledge.”
“But you can’t discount the possibility.”
“Carter, let’s not stray from our focus. Open your mind a little, and stop trying to disprove. Try to prove. Remember how enjoyable it was for you in the heavens above?”
“Yes.”
“Well, reincarnation principles strive for the emancipation from the soul. Once Nirvana is attained…nirvana being the supreme goal, or release from the limitations of existence, then you’re golden.”
“Maybe this has something to do with my unfinished business?” Carter suggested silently, but aloud. “Maybe it is my job…to prove this for my father. Maybe the experiment really is mine to prove, and then I get to stay up there permanently?”
“It’s not really my call.” Brenda said with a grin, but pleased to see that Carter was making sense of it.
The more Carter thought about this, the freakier it became for him. He began to believe that it could be up to him to complete the experiment, if not for the sake of his father, then for his own emancipation, like Brenda had said. After all, he was no longer afraid of death, and Heaven was a decent place for immortality, he thought. However, now that he had another taste of life, he preferred life once again.
“Another thing about nirvana,” Brenda said, “if you’re lucky enough to be able to recognize past life experiences, and extract and fix the wrongs of past lives, then nirvana can be reached, but not before.”
This began to really make sense to Carter. He followed every sign that he could, and it really appeared to Carter that he was closing in on his true identity. Even delving into the bizarre became a necessity. He felt compelled to push on, putting his personal beliefs aside. Carter was feeling that there was really nothing to lose, only to gain. He was so happy to have followed signs, especially the ones that led to Brenda. It almost seemed like a master plan at work, with all the fine details prescribed. Maybe he was even correcting wrongs of past lives, he thought, by never having done drugs of any kind, and treating women with respect. He felt proud of this accomplishment, but that feeling was short-lived. He thought that if he was his father’s personality, then the search for his own identity would be futile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Carter and Brenda spent the afternoon volleying ideas that reeked of improbability, but only due to the spirituality and mystique of those ideas. They needed this-worldly proof; concrete scientific proof, but the nature of the beast did not make for an easy task. Carter knew his chances would be extra-lean, unless something better materialized.
Brenda had been lying next to Carter on the bed, and suddenly did a sit-up without the aid of her arms.
“Let’s check out the graveyard,” she said.
“For what purpose?” asked Carter.
Brenda did not have an immediate response, but this got them to talking, and they were able to bounce ideas off each other.
“We need to dig down deeper for concrete clues,” Brenda said.
“We got a lot of answers so far,” said Carter. “We’ve made progress…more than I thought we’d ever make.”
“But that’s not good enough,” said Brenda. “We need the full story…not just the beginning and not just the middle. Actually, all that you have is the end, but even that is unconfirmed. We need to confirm something!”
“Dig deeper,” said Carter. “Dig deeper down.”
He looked at Brenda, who was consumed in thought. Carter’s thinking slowly spilled out into audible words. “Dig for answers. We should dig for answers.”
Brenda reiterated, “Dig for answers, yeah…dig for bodies…for bones.”
Carter looked at Brenda, whose facial expression changed by this new brainstorming session.
“The article about my father listed the cemetery where the other unidentified train victim was buried,” said Carter. “It’s a start.”
“Yes.” Brenda then stood up, taking the few steps needed toward the diary, moving as if it was her own fate at stake. She rifled through the book until she came upon the train accident clipping.
“It says here that he was buried at the Green Mountain Cemetery in Boulder,” she said. “I wonder if that’s far from here.”
Brenda scanned the clipping again. “Hey, I know where that is. It’s on 20th Avenue…not far from here. Maybe 10 minutes…tops. Come on, we have a little bit of walking to do.”
&nbs
p; Martin had been rocking away his afternoon on the front porch, so Carter and Brenda chose to slip out the back and cut through the woods a bit, then out to the road. As they made their way from the yard to the edge of the woods, Brenda began to freak out as she found herself standing smack in front of an aged mound raised a couple of inches from the ground.
Carter had been following, and he stopped short, grabbing Brenda.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
Brenda’s complexion turned white, and Carter had noticed that she was frozen by fear. He looked at the mound, and knew what she was thinking. The elongated mound had the appearance of an old makeshift grave.
“Oh,” he said, “you don’t mean to tell me…”
“Carter,” she said adamantly while staring at the mound, “I think we have to consider this. We have to get to that cemetery now. I just hope we find that your mother had a proper burial.”
There was a long moment of silence before the two were able to carry on with their mission. Something was awry with this raised piece of earth. An eerie feeling enveloped them both. They had no choice but to push on.
***
As Carter and Brenda walked up to the gates of the cemetery, a sign confirmed that they had arrived at the ‘Green Mountain Cemetery, 1904.’ Slowly they made their way into the graveyard at the base of a mountain, passing bare evergreens. A gigantic statue ushered them in, and they began searching for Darren and Alexandra in section B, at the left of the entrance. Sizable blackbirds rode the breeze in and around the cemetery. It was peaceful on this side of town, Carter thought. Then he smirked to himself as he thought about the stupidity of the thought.
Their search seemed like a waste of time. They searched high and low, round and round. Carter was intently studying the tombstones when Brenda shoved him on the left shoulder and said, “BOO!”
This startled Carter, and he chased Brenda as she ran away from him. Carter took off like a shot to get his revenge on Brenda before she got too far away, but his feet locked up and he clumsily tripped over them. He fell so hard that his mind shook, and as he returned to his feet slowly, he found himself looking up at his father’s tombstone in the Garden of Gethsemane..
“Home, at last” he said.
Slowly, silently stepping closer to the tombstone, Carter traced the name with his fingers, almost hoping that this was the closest he’d ever been to his father. He suddenly broke down in tears, crying harder than he’s ever cried in his life. He tried talking to Brenda, but his words could not come out even remotely clear. Carter could not help this reaction, trying unsuccessfully to relate that to Brenda. He wasn’t sure if he was crying for his father or crying for himself, or even whether the two were one and the same.
Brenda stood behind Carter, wrapping her arms around him. She did not say a word, and that’s the way Carter wanted it. She read him so well, and that was one of the things Carter noticed and liked about this girl. He didn’t need to tell her much, because she always knew what to say or what not to say.
“March 3, 1939 to June 5, 1974…my father died at age thirty-five,” said Carter, through his now controlled tears. “Now that we found him, what does it really prove? I mean, we know that he is really dead, and we know that his body is here, but we won’t find his spirit here. That’s what we’re searching for, isn’t it? My father’s spirit?”
“Right,” Brenda piped in, but there was the possibility that your mother was buried beside him.”
They encircled the surrounding markers, and found that Alexandra was indeed buried beside him. They were both confused because of the backyard discovery, but they also expressed their relief.
“This really doesn’t make much sense,” said Carter. “I really thought there was something to that mound in the backyard. I mean…I really thought that my mother was back there. But even though we now know she is not…hey Brenda…my mother died on June 6th, 1974.”
“June 6th, 1974,” Brenda repeated slowly. Is that your birthday?”
“Right, when I was…born.” said Carter, looking as though he still wasn’t convinced that this all was happening, or exactly what it meant. His mind raced.
“We never did find out what happened to Shirley,” he continued.
Brenda’s complexion had almost returned to normal, but as she absorbed what Carter was suggesting, she went pale once again. She was overtired as well, and Carter felt it best that they take a load off immediately, and suggested that they make a stop for some coffee before they returned home. They needed to process a few things, take a mental break, and regroup.
***
They were getting pretty tired of walking by the time they reached the Pearl Street Mall. Brenda needed a seat from her fatigue, so she found a table in the cool breeze of the outdoor patio of the Book End Café. Carter proceeded on in for a couple of cups of coffee. He also needed to sit back and let his problems take a ride in the cool breeze. He knew damn well that it wouldn’t happen, but maybe a little relaxation would at least do some good.
Carter had a cup of coffee in each hand as he started out toward the patio. As he approached the door, he stopped in his tracks. He watched, and he waited. He watched as Reggie stood above his ex-girlfriend. She was looking up at Reggie, a scared look on her face. Carter could barely hear, just being far enough from sound’s reach, but he could tell from Reggie’s hand motions that he was threatening her.
When Carter got a better look at this guy, he realized that it was the same dude driving around the gas station looking for a girl who would eventually match Brenda’s description, but Carter had not met her at the time, and never made the connection after that.
Now his attention was dominated by these two scenarios going on. He zoned in the best he could, but did not care to be detected by either party. He was fairly certain the guy in the car back in Nebraska was Brenda’s boyfriend. He was looking for her, and she was at a gas station claiming to have had car trouble. Now it seemed clear that she was trying to get away from him.
He moved outside and mixed in with the crowd. Even though he could detect something on this guy’s neck, he could not confirm that it was a tattoo of a skull. He was as close as he could reasonable get without being seen. The risk seemed too great to get any closer.
Reggie had the build of a football player, Carter thought, as he parked the two coffees on a table just in case. Reggie continued communicating with his hands. Carter pretty much figured that Brenda wouldn’t give in to him, but he wasn’t sure anymore. Life with Reggie just might have more sanity for Brenda, especially now. This would be her perfect chance, that is, if she wanted out of Carter’s life. He now wondered if Brenda would rethink which life was the lesser of the evils.
Before Carter could process additional thoughts, he witnessed Brenda’s chair being pushed back beyond its balancing point. Carter ran toward her, but much too late, watching her fall back in what seemed like slow motion, but not slow enough. He watched helplessly as the back of Brenda’s head struck the black iron fence that ran alongside the brick walkway. All of the bystanders were just that. Nobody did anything more than get themselves out of harm’s way without getting coffee stains on their precious clothing. There were so many people who could have at the very least broken her fall.
All that Carter could think about as Brenda faced serious injury is that he very much needed her in his life. He thought for a second that he was being selfish, but that was the least of his concerns at this very moment. He wanted Brenda all to himself, and he needed and valued her. He was even thinking that he possibly loved that girl from first laying his eyes upon her. She had turned his life around, and made him focused at a time in his life when he didn’t know which way was up. He felt like he was so close to answers because of her, and he sensed th
at there was a deeper meaning to their acquaintance. But now Carter’s selfishness could save Brenda’s life by winning the battle with Reggie.
Everybody sat or stood around watching this macho man injure a helpless girl, and as all these loving thoughts of Brenda passed through Carter’s mind in an instant, he set off. Brenda was holding the back of her head, obviously dazed, but not bleeding.
“Somebody help her,” screamed Carter repeatedly. His shriek stunned the onlookers seemingly more than the reason for the shriek itself. Reggie turned for a cowardly exit, but Carter tackled him from behind, having steadily moved in on him calculatingly. Carter was as concerned about fairness as Reggie had been with Brenda.
Grabbing both of Reggie’s arms on the descent, Carter forced him face first into the same cement, but with the added weight of another person. Carter acted quickly, turning his opponent onto his back. He noticed that Reggie was dazed and injured, but Carter was not satisfied. Besides, Reggie was a big guy, so Carter had to make his attack count.
One fist at a time, Carter pounded Reggie’s face until he had at least some blood to show for it, and he knew that he’d be in trouble should he leave Reggie any sort of leeway. When Carter started violently shaking Reggie, gripping his chest and heaving him up and down, which plastered Reggie’s head into the ground each time, he was finally pulled off by a bystander. Carter grabbed Brenda and they made a quick exit, leaving their coffees behind.
***
From a distance, they were able to see that Martin’s chair was still occupied. It took them no time to return to the house from the Mall, but now they wanted to slip past unnoticed so as not to disturb the old man or have to answer questions. They took the same sidetrack in and around the house that they used upon their departure. They were forced to walk past the mound once again. They felt a little bit better about that mound knowing that they were aware of proper burials for Carter’s parents. However, Brenda still trembled as she passed it. Carter ran up to comfort her. Something was awry, and Carter needed to know what it was.
Desert Son Trilogy: Desert Son, Wayward Soul, Spiritual Intervention (Books 1-3) Page 16