Redemption: Supernatural Time-Traveling Romance with Sci-fi and Metaphysics

by Jacklyn A. Lo

  “One moment please, my lady,” said Rob from the screen. “I’m just collating the requested data.” Ann waited patiently. “Interesting!” said Rob, after a few seconds of research that covered over a hundred terabytes of data. “Why do you ask?” He looked at Ann quizzically, a single eyebrow raised.

  “Just something Nina said last night.” Ann stood up and made her way to the washroom. “Apparently she visited a psychic to find out about her future.”

  As Ann brushed her teeth, Rob explained to her the wide range of abilities that psychics claimed to have. Ann listened carefully, hoping that Rob might have dredged up something that she didn’t already know.

  “There’s fortune-telling and predicting the future, mind-reading and telepathy, hypnosis, exploring past lives, spiritual healing and pretty much anything else that involves looking into and manipulating the spiritual realm.”

  “I was hoping they might have something to do with interpreting dreams,” said Ann, drying her face with a small towel. “I’ve been having those weird dreams for the last few nights and I just can’t shake off the feeling that my brain is trying to tell me something.”

  “Like what?”

  Ann shrugged, slipping off her silk chemise and stepping into the shower. “I have no idea, Rob. Hence asking you about psychics. I guess what I really want to know is, can they really do the things they claim they can do?”

  “That is not an easy question to answer,” said Rob, speaking louder to be heard over the sound of the shower as its jets burst to life. “These are intangible, spiritual matters, outside the realm of empirical testing and scientific research. Not only that, but there are countless accounts of so-called psychics who were nothing more than charlatans and con artists. However, there are even more accounts of people claiming to have had genuine, spiritual experiences when visiting psychics. In the end, there is really only one way to find out.”

  Ann stopped the shower with a wave of her hand. “Are you suggesting I visit Nina’s psychic?”

  “That, my lady, is entirely your decision. But what have you got to lose?”

  Ann turned the jets back on and considered this question. What’s going on with me, she wondered. Where did all this spiritual realm stuff suddenly come from? Part of her felt that it was nothing more than a load of wishful thinking and nonsense, but she just couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was some kind of spiritual message behind her dreams, and it was getting more and more insistent. At this rate, if she didn’t do something she was going to go mad. But visiting a psychic? That just wasn’t the sort of thing she did.

  ~

  “I can’t believe you’re actually going to visit my psychic, darling,” said Nina, looking across at her friend as they made their way through the city. “It just doesn’t seem the sort of thing you’d do!”

  Ann had called Nina as soon as she was dressed, before she changed her mind about seeing the psychic. Twenty minutes later she had picked Nina up from her apartment building and headed towards the north of Chicago.

  “Trust me,” said Ann. “It’s not. But I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Well, I think it’s wonderful, sweetie. Getting in touch with your spiritual side; you won’t regret it. You want the next left.” She pointed to the road in question.

  The area they were traveling to had suffered in recent years, mostly following the riots a few years earlier, when many of the inhabitants had fled, leaving their homes and businesses at the mercy of the mob and, before long, the city’s more notorious gangs. Now it was an area that most people, even the police, avoided, and the gray light of the day did little to alleviate the sense of oppression about the place. Ann turned her car down the indicated road and pulled up against the sidewalk. She looked out of the window and noticed that, though this had long been a commercial area, almost all the shops had windows were either broken or boarded up. Tattered posters flapped in wind. It began to rain.

  “I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” said Ann, who had not yet switched off the engine and was seriously considering turning the car round and heading back to her apartment.

  “It’s fine,” said Nina. “The psychic lives just over there, along that alleyway.”

  “Come on, then.” Ann hit the button that cut out the engine and opened her door. “Let’s get this over with. And if my car’s not here when we get back, I’m blaming you entirely!”

  Together they made their way along the deserted street and looked down the alleyway. In the half light, the place seemed to be made entirely out of shadows, and Ann could just make out a few people shifting around in the gloom. She was surprised to see a handful of children playing with something on the ground that may or may not have been an animal of some sort.

  A short way down the alley was a doorway. It had no actual door in it, just a slightly grimy-looking bead curtain through which Ann could make out nothing but darkness. Stepping past her, Nina parted the beads and walked inside. Ann, usually so confident and self-assured, hesitated a moment, her hand on the curtain. She glanced back along the alleyway and the street where hopefully the car still sat, ready to take her back to the safety of home. And then she turned forward again and pushed her way through into the darkness beyond.

  “Please come through,” came a voice from somewhere to the right. As Ann’s eyes adjusted, she realized there was a glow coming from a nearby doorway. She walked through it, entering a small room filled with the scent of incense and, beneath that, the smell of cats. Candles shed their light on the surrounding room. The floor was covered with what looked like an ancient Persian rug, and two large sofas stood against the wall. A stained coffee table sat between them. On one sofa sat Nina, a broad grin on her face, and on the other was a small, old lady who looked unbelievably thin and scrawny. She was wearing a dark, blue dress and a patterned veil and gestured to the sofa with a ring-covered hand.

  “That’s right, Ann. Come and sit next to your friend.”

  “How did you know my name?” asked Ann in surprise. “Is that part of your psychic… gift?”

  “No, dear,” said the psychic with a chuckle. “Nina here just told me.”

  “You see, darling,” said Nina as Ann sat down next to her. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Ann went to speak, but before she could utter a word, the psychic’s hand shot out snakelike and gripped her wrist. She turned Ann’s hand palm up and bent forward to look at it before gazing into her face. Ann felt her breath catch as she noticed the psychic’s eyes. One of them was turned upwards into her skull so that only its white was visible. The other seemed to stare right through her as though looking at something in the distance, and Ann felt it was gazing straight into her innermost being.

  “There is a long, long way to go to solve your problem,” said the psychic, her voice old and cracked. “It stretches deep into your past—far beyond this life.”

  Her words made Ann shudder. She felt her heart begin to pound, and her chest to constrict, as if the spiral had her once again in its relentless grip.

  “If you wish to proceed and seek out the solution, you must decide, my dear,” the old woman said.

  Glancing quickly at Nina, who was smiling away happily, she looked back at the psychic. “I wish to proceed,” Ann said, her voice sounding much stronger than she felt.

  “Very well.” The psychic sat back in her sofa and fluttered her wrinkled fingers at Nina. “Off you go, then. You can wait for us in the other room.” As Nina, looking slightly put out, left the room, she added to Ann, “Go to the sofa please and make yourself comfortable.”

  “Should I lie down or something?” said Ann, and when the old woman failed to answer, she did so anyway, slipping her shoes onto the rug.

  The psychic placed a hand gently on Ann’s forehead. “That’s right, my dear. You have quite a journey ahead of you.” And with that, she began to mumble something under her breath in a language Ann did not recognize.

  She tried to listen to the psychic’s strange
words, but she suddenly found herself feeling sleepy, unable to concentrate. Slowly, she began to feel her eyelids growing heavy as the darkness enveloped her. Ann closed her eyes and fell asleep…

  Stone Age. No-name Land

  Chapter Four

  She opens her eyes as a large hand falls on her leg, gripping it painfully. She blinks, adjusting to the morning light, and focuses on Zo leaning over her, his massive figure almost eclipsing the cave mouth. Instinctively, she kicks out at him, her foot catching him squarely in the chest. Despite his size he stumbles backwards a few steps, releasing his grip on her leg. She shakes her head, as much to discourage him as to dispel the remains of the night’s sleep. With his bulk shifted, the light streams in and she feels a small wave of joy knowing that the Sky God has not deserted them, but has returned once more to bring warmth, light and comfort to the tribe.

  “Bah!” Zo thumps his chest in a gesture of annoyance and, as he turns slightly in the light, it is clear what he is after—the antelope skin around his waist can barely conceal it.

  “Out!” she snarls and clings to the sleeping figure of her man, Lu, seeking his protection. As she does, Lu stirs, mumbling something to himself in his sleep. Zo frowns and steps towards her once more. Shaking her head again, she points to the entrance of the cave. This time Zo turns away, throwing an angry look back over his shoulder.

  Alone with her man, she turns towards him, putting an arm across his chest. Her swollen belly stops her getting much closer, but she is content. She feels safe knowing he is there, that Lu is her man. From outside come the sounds of the tribe waking up and beginning the day’s work.

  “Lu,” she says, stroking his cheek gently. “Lu.”

  There is no response from him. If anything he seems even more asleep than before, his breathing growing steadily deeper and louder. She leans over and looks at his face, struck again by how handsome he is. His skin is a deep reddish brown covered by strong, black hair, and beneath it large muscles shift easily like hunting lions. He looks noble to her, with his prominent brow and thick beard. She enjoys gazing up and down his body, proud that Lu is her man.

  Suddenly, she becomes aware that Lu’s deep breaths have stopped and she turns to look at his face. His mouth hangs slightly open, slack and lifeless. There is no movement from him. She puts her ear against his mouth and hears nothing—no word, no breath. Worried, she moves her head down to his chest to listen for the beat of his heart, and as she does so he bursts to life, kissing her neck with a playful growl. The sudden movement makes her jump and Lu begins to laugh.

  “Mi,” he says as he hugs her neck and presses his head to her. “My Mi!”

  Mi slaps his leg, pretending to be irritated, but his beard tickles her ear and she too begins to laugh. He turns to face her, then, and draws her close to him as he kisses her properly, his body pressing against her.

  “Wu!” he exclaims, suddenly breaking away and pointing at Mi’s belly. “Wu kicks!”

  Her skin is much smoother than most of those in the tribe and the hair that covers her body is light both in color and form, so the movement of the baby can be clearly seen. She stares in fascination as it kicks out beneath her skin.

  “Wu,” she says, tracing the baby’s movement with her finger. This is the name they have decided on for their child, “Wu”, which was the tribe’s word meaning “gift”, something given to another, not out of duty or fear, but given out of love. Lu reaches out a hand to feel their child moving in her belly and a broad smile lights up his face as though it is the first time this has happened. In truth, it began months ago. Mi is nearly at full term and it will soon be time to bring this baby into the world. But not today. Today there is work to be done. Today the tribe must prepare for the coming hunt, the hunt which will bring them food for the hard months ahead.

  Hugging her man once more, Mi climbs to her feet, stretches her aching body and makes her way out of the cave, one hand supporting her back. The sight as she emerges into the morning light fills her with joy. The entrances to the caves stretch away to the right and left. In front of her the plain is filled all the way to the lake with the people of her tribe. The lake sparkles in worship of the Sky God, reflecting his glory to the world. To Mi’s right the womenfolk get themselves ready for their work of gathering enough food for the hunt, cleaning the animal skin bags and tending to the fish that are drying in the cool morning breeze. To the left are the men, sifting through piles of stones that were collected in the last few weeks. Mi watches them with a fascination that never seems to fade as they chip away at the flints, making the heads and blades for the weapons they will use on the hunt. Others work at sharpening long wooden sticks or attaching the flints to them with strips of twisted bark and leather. Here and there children run between the adults, playing with bits of bone and stones they have found lying around. A boy, naked like the other children, though already well covered in thick, dark hair, holds the skull of a small buffalo and pretends to charge at his playmates, who fend him off with their toy weapons. As Mi watches, the boy trips over a rock and lands heavily on the skull, breaking off one of its horns. She steps forward.

  “Hurt?” she calls, worried about the boy. He doesn’t reply, but jumps nimbly to his feet and carries on his game, the broken horn left forgotten on the ground.

  Mi senses Lu behind her as he walks up and places a hand gently on her shoulder.

  “I make,” he says after a moment, pointing towards the other men.

  “Go,” says Mi, ushering him to go, and as he makes his way over she turns away to join the women. She walks near the cave of Bak, the leader of the tribe, and as she passes, Mi bows toward Bak as he sits in the entrance to the cave surveying the work. He has a slightly aloof look, as though he considers the industry acceptable, but he of course could do far better himself!

  Funny, Bak, thinks Mi, the haughty expression on his face almost causing her to burst out laughing. She manages to stop herself though. It is not good to offend the leader. No laugh! No upset Bak! He is old and soon he will announce Lu as his successor. He has been preparing Lu for this important role for many months. Mi smiles at the thought of her Lu as the new leader of the tribe. She glances back towards her man to see him already busy securing a spearhead to a long shaft.

  “Mi!” She turns to see who is calling and sees Ka waving from among a cluster of women busily stitching skins together. “Here.”

  Waving back, Mi makes her way through and sits next to her on a fallen tree. Ka leans across and places a hand on her belly.

  “Soon,” she says, smiling happily at her. Ka has known Mi since she was a baby, and helped to raise her following the death of her mother during childbirth. Though Ka has no children, she cannot disguise her excitement at the idea of Mi giving birth. “Soon he comes.”

  “He,” echoes Mi with a nod. She knows for sure that it is going to be a boy. She cannot explain why, she just knows. Running a hand gently over her belly, she bends down and picks up one of the skins spread out among the groups of women. It is a strong antelope skin, already cut into shape, and will make a fine, strong bag. Snatching up a thin, sharp stick and a strip of leader, she begins the hard work of stitching the hide together, pushing the wood needle through small holes that have been cut into the skin and drawing the leather through. From all around her comes the staccato chatter of the women talking excitedly about the hunt.

  “Look,” says one woman, holding up her handiwork. “Big bag.”

  Another woman nods in appreciation, reaching out to feel the item in question. “Big bag, big meat!”

  Apart from the fish that are caught in the lake each day, the tribe has not had meat since the last strips of dried buffalo were eaten over a month ago. Tomorrow the men would set out in search of a rhinoceros herd that, at this time of the year, passes through the hills that lay beyond the forest, a two-day walk away. It would be a long journey and the fight that followed would be hard. A rhinoceros is a formidable creature, far more dangerous than the a
ntelope and buffalo. Last year they had lost two men when one of the beasts, his hide bristling with spears, had suddenly charged. One man had been impaled through the chest by the beast’s horn before being tossed aside. The other had been crushed as the creature fell, finally succumbing to the weapons that pierced its skin and body. It had been sad, but the meat had been wonderful and had ensured the tribe’s survival through another harsh winter. They need a good hunt if they are to make through the cold to come.

  Mi holds up her bag, turning it around so she can inspect it properly. As she lowers it, she finds herself looking into the frowning face of Im. She is one of the oldest women in the tribe. At almost forty summers, she is older even than Bak. Im leans forwards and takes the bag out of Mi’s hands, scrutinizing the stitching carefully. She does not look impressed.

  “No,” she says, lifting it up to look inside. To the great surprise of Mi and the other women, Im drops the bag over her head and jumps to her feet flailing her arms as though she is being strangled and emitting loud moans. After a few moments she stops and raises the bag so she can peep out at the others. Seeing their stunned expressions, Im begins to laugh and drops the bag back over her face, flailing and moaning once again. All around her the women burst into laughter and Mi laughs.

  “Funny Im!” says Mi, laughing so hard she has to put her arms around her belly in case she brings on the birth. “Stop now.”

  Sitting back down on her rock, Im takes off the bag and tosses it back to Mi.

  “Good,” she says, still grinning. “Big hat.”

  As the Sky God reaches his full height, the last of the bags and other preparations are completed, and it is time to head into the shade of the forest. Each of the women has a bag. Not one of the large ones they have been making all morning—these are for the men to use to carry the butchered rhino meat—but smaller bags, slung over their shoulders, each one containing a sharp flint to help them with their work.