Promised Soul

by Sandra J. Jackson

  “Yes, she had a message from my mother about wanting to…” Aaron paused. He seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say.

  “Wanting what?” I encouraged.

  “You're going to think this very strange, but you don't know my mother.” I cocked my head completely baffled by the conversation and Aaron's strange behaviour. Aaron took a deep breath, “She would like to meet you.”

  “Meet me? Why does she want to meet me?” I was a bit shocked, to say the least. Had he mentioned me to his mother? We'd just met, or reconnected, or whatever you'd call it. Although, I knew my feelings, there was no telling how he felt, he surely didn't have the same insight that I did on our 'relationship'.

  “I promise I never spoke of you to her, not really anyway. Not in any way that would suggest…” his voice trailed off. “The thing is my mother has this ability –”

  “It's fine,” I said abruptly. I'd been around enough people recently who knew things they couldn't possibly know. “I get it.”

  “You do?” His eyes widened in shocked amazement.

  “You don't know the half of it.”

  “I guess it's settled then.” Aaron turned the key in the ignition and put the car into gear.

  “Wait, what do you mean it's settled'?” I asked nervously.

  “Well… she wants to meet you now.” Aaron smiled a crooked little smile, the kind that said, 'no time like the present'.

  “When you say now, you mean like today-now?”

  “Uh-huh!” Aaron started to pull away from the curb, stopping suddenly. “Unless, of course, you really don't want to, I would completely understand. I'm sorry if it's too strange, I shouldn't…”

  I reached over and placed my hand on top of Aaron's; instantly feeling a sudden surge of heat between them, but I didn't pull away. It was comforting. “It's okay,” I reassured him. “I would love to meet your mother.”

  He smiled, “Fine, let's go then.”

  It was a quiet trip to Tockington with neither of us saying much of anything, and it wasn't for a lack of trying on my part, either. Finally, Aaron spoke as we pulled into the drive.

  “Well, here we are.” He looked straight ahead as he parked.

  I looked around at the beautiful flower gardens on either side of the drive, envious that my gardens back home were not as lush and colourful, no matter what I planted. A gardener, I was not.

  “Wow! These are some of the most beautiful garden's I've ever seen. Green thumbs must run in your family since your Aunt Jane's are equally as lovely.”

  “Humph, it must have skipped a generation. I can't keep a cactus alive let alone ones that need actual caring.” A small smile escaped from Aaron's lips, the first I'd seen since we'd left London.

  I trailed behind Aaron as we approached the front door. Now that we were there, I was feeling a bit apprehensive but kept it to myself. Before Aaron reached the door handle, it swung open. A small, plump woman wearing an apron greeted us, grinning widely.

  “Hello, loves, do come in, come in. Aaron, your mum will be so happy you're here.” The woman ushered us into the foyer as she closed the door behind us.

  “Aunt Jane, I'd like you to meet Krista, she's –”

  “Yes, yes, I know.” Jane turned her attention to me, taking my hand into her soft, plump ones. “Hello dear, it's so nice to finally meet you. I hope you've been enjoying your stay at my cottage. I'm so sorry that I'm not there to show you around, but as you know, I've been a wee bit busy.”

  “Oh yes, I've been having a great time. Thank you so much for renting your apartment out to me.”

  “Of course! I'm just glad to have someone staying there whilst I'm away. Have you found everything you need? I hope that notebook of instructions I left you has been helpful.”

  “More than you know.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but how's Mum?” Aaron asked his aunt. Jane immediately withdrew her hands from mine and led Aaron away just out of earshot. I stood there waiting in the foyer not sure what to do. Thankfully, Aaron returned a short minute later.

  “Sorry about that. Jane's gone to see if Mother is awake. We should wait in the parlour.”

  I followed Aaron to the parlour and took a seat in the middle of a small couch while he sat in the wing-backed chair to my right. We waited in silence, the only sound coming from the ticking grandfather clock in the corner. That billowing fog of awkwardness had found us once again.

  “Your aunt is very nice,” I whispered.

  “Why are you whispering?”

  The beginnings of a blush crept slowly up my neck. “I don't know; it's so quiet here. I guess I felt I should whisper.” I spoke a little louder.

  Aaron opened his mouth as though to say something, but his eyes quickly averted to the entrance. I followed his gaze. Jane had just walked into the room.

  “She'd like to see both of you in her room.” Jane turned and left the parlour.

  I turned back to look at Aaron. For a brief moment, a strange look crossed his face, one that I couldn't quite define.

  “Ready?” He smiled, though more forced than genuine.

  “I guess so.”

  Aaron knocked gently on the door before entering; I followed quietly along behind. It was very odd to be in the bedroom of a stranger, let alone a stranger who was dying. I stood by the door as Aaron approached his mother's bed. She was sitting up with two or three pillows tucked in behind her for support; her long, dark hair flowed out over her shoulders. Her beauty captivated me, for as sick as she was, her illness had just begun to make its appearance on her face, sharpening her features and making her skin more transparent.

  Aaron leaned over and gently kissed his mother's forehead. She closed her eyes as though she were engraving the moment in her memory for eternity. Her hand reached up and gently stroked his arm. When she opened her eyes, she looked past Aaron and locked them on mine.

  “Don't be shy, dear, I promise I won't bite.” She smiled.

  I smiled back and approached the bed slowly. I stood by Aaron's side, not wanting to take my eyes off her but not wanting her to read pity in them either. I finally broke our gaze and glanced at the floor. It was a little daunting being there.

  “Krista, I'd like for you to meet Kate.”

  I looked up again and held out my hand to Kate. She took it in her own frail, though warm, hand and squeezed it gently. “It's so lovely to meet you, Krista. I am so sorry my illness has kept Jane away from her home and greeting you properly. I hope you've been able to get along alright.”

  “Oh yes, it's been no problem at all, please don't worry about that.” I couldn't believe that with all she was going through, she was worried about her sister not being there for me.

  “I'll get some chairs,” Aaron said, walking to the end of the bed and grabbing a chair from the corner of the room. He brought it over for me to sit on and then went back to get another for himself.

  Once seated, Kate smiled at me again and asked me to tell her all about myself. At first, I just gave her the usual small details about where I lived, my career, the sort of things that only take a few minutes to tell. It wasn't long before it became apparent that when she asked me to tell her about myself, she truly wanted to know everything about me, like where I was born, grew up, went to school, who my parents were, and even how they met. She was so easy to talk to and such a good listener that before long I had given her my entire life story, everything but my past life memories, though it was very tempting. Then Kate prompted Aaron to fill me in on the details of his life and as it turned out, we both had lost our fathers earlier in life, a detail that I had wondered about but not asked.

  “Aaron, dear, could you go to the kitchen and fetch us some tea and biscuits. I'm a bit hungry, I think.” Kate said smiling at her son.

  “Of course, I'll be right back.” Aaron left the room leaving us alone.

  “Could I ask you to do me a favour?” Kate smiled at me.

  “Sure.” Though having just met Kate, I would
do just about anything for her.

  “Open the doors of the armoire and you'll see a drawer. Pull it open and take out the Bible that's in there, please.”

  As I headed toward the armoire, a multitude of possibilities as to why she wanted her Bible ran through my head. Looking back at her, she smiled at me, not looking at all like she was about to pass away at any minute. It seemed such a personal thing to ask of a total stranger, granted she now knew as much about me as my friends and family back home did.

  The Bible was just where she said it would be. It was a rather old looking book, but its black leather binding still held the pages together. When I returned to my seat at her bedside, I handed it over.

  “Thank you,” she said as she took the book from my hands and rested it on her lap. “When Aaron was very young,” she proceeded to tell me, “he told me of places and people and things. Places he'd never been, people he could never have met, and things he could never have known.” She rubbed her thumb across the cover of the Bible. “As he grew older, he stopped telling me his stories, no longer remembering – but I never forgot. Then one day he brought me a gift.” Kate opened up her Bible to a page near the back that had been marked by the attached ribbon bookmark. She gently took out a pressed four-leaf clover from between its pages and twirled it between her fingers. “He gave it to me on my birthday for luck. Then he asked me if he'd ever found one before, for he had a memory of giving it to a girl with long, dark hair.”

  Thomas sat up and faced her. He reached over and tucked a loose hair along with the clover behind her ear.

  I closed my eyes and shook the memory from my mind. Kate didn't seem to notice, she was almost trance-like staring at the clover she twirled slowly between her fingers.

  “I said no, that it was the first one he'd ever given me, but I remembered his stories – all of them. Once he became very ill, and in his delirium, he began recounting tales, the same tales he told as a young boy. When he got well, the tales stopped, but every so often, I would hear him talking in his sleep. It was always the same dream, always the same girl. He never truly remembered – but I did.” Kate stopped twirling the clover and placed it back in the book. Then she closed it protectively over her precious treasure. “Do you believe in a life before?” Kate asked quietly as she gazed pensively at me.

  My eyes widened and the hairs on my neck rose as goose bumps travelled up my flesh. Without meaning to, I nodded.

  “I believe that Aaron has lived before, as I have. I suppose that's why I'm not so worried about leaving this world – again. It's just that – well Aaron…” A flicker of sadness crossed Kate's eyes as she looked toward the closed door of her bedroom. “Give me your hand.”

  Without hesitation, I placed my hand between Kate's own. She closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them again.

  “Do you know what I feel when I hold your hand?”

  I shook my head.

  “Life. Do you know what I see?” Her eyes burrowed into mine.

  Again, I shook my head, too mesmerized to speak.

  Kate closed her eyes again and kept them closed. “You are an old soul, Krista, but I don't think I have to tell you that.” My hand stiffened in hers, though her hands were frail, they were still strong, and she held on tightly. I began to relax as she lovingly stroked the back of my hand with her thumbs. “You've told me all about yourself, but I sense there is something else”

  Surprised and confused I gently tugged on my hand, finally withdrawing it from Kate's grasp; she opened her eyes. “What… what do you mean?” I stammered.

  Kate opened her eyes and smiled. “Do your dreams ever leave you with a sense of longing?”

  It wasn't enough that my face gave away my emotions to anyone who looked at me, but it seemed holding my hand gave away my secrets, too, at least to Kate. “How do you –”

  “There are many things in this world that can't be explained, my gift is one of them.”

  After Ruth and the old woman, I'd given up trying to figure out just how these people had these extraordinary abilities. I accepted it as no different as someone with artistic talent. After all, dreaming of a past life seemed to be an ability in and of itself, who was I to be skeptical.

  “I'm not quite sure I understand why I'm here.”

  Kate smiled. “Oh my dear, don't you?”

  Maybe because I was so new to this strange phenomenon, environment – experience, I needed a clearer definition. I shook my head.

  “I sensed something was going on with Aaron, so I asked Jane to call him this morning. I wasn't quite sure what it was but needed to meet you.” She shrugged.

  “That's all?” I asked in disbelief.

  “When I took your hand, I saw flashes of your dreams – Mary, Thomas, they are the same from Aaron's stories and dreams, though I'm sure he no longer remembers. Once he told me of a girl from a dream, and I believed it was someone he was destined to meet, a girl in his future. He looked for her, but he eventually gave up. We don't speak of her anymore.” Kate looked a little sad. My head began to spin as the reason for my being there was beginning to become clear. “Do you know what I believe now?” Kate asked smiling at me.

  I shook my head.

  “The girl wasn't his future, but his past. Do me another favour, Krista?” Before I could answer, Kate continued, “Help him to believe in that girl. Help him to remember you.”

  Thirty-Four

  By the time we arrived in Bourton, I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. It took everything in me not to fall back to sleep as we drove through town. It had been an exciting yet draining weekend, and I was sad to leave London and my new friends. I promised to stay in touch before my holiday ended and I returned home. Home – it seemed like being there was a dream. If it weren't for my mother and my dear friends, there would be no returning. In my mind, I was home.

  My visit with Kate had affirmed my decision to help Aaron remember. However, I had no idea how that would unfold. It would take time, but there was only a month left of my vacation and a good part of it was on my own. Aaron and I weren't scheduled to meet again until the fourth of August, and it would only be for a couple of days – there really weren't many opportunities left.

  “All right, sleepyhead, you're home.” A distant voice whispered through my thoughts and then a comforting heat fell on my shoulder. My eyes popped open to find Aaron gently shaking me awake. “Sorry to wake you, but you're home now.” He smiled.

  “That's okay, I wasn't really sleeping.”

  “Oh no? What would you call it then?”

  “Deep in thought,” I replied, opening the car door up and climbing out. I stretched up on tippy-toe and yawned.

  “I'll get your bag.” He called out to me as I walked up the walk of the cottage and fished the keys from my purse.

  Oh yeah, my bag. If it wasn't for my exhaustion, I'd have turned back, but instead my feet continued toward the door. Once inside the foyer, my feet stopped and my eyes followed the staircase up to the door at the top. My shoulders slumped; the staircase lengthened in front of my eyes.

  “Is something the matter?” Aaron's voice came from behind me.

  “Don't those stairs look a long way up?”

  He laughed. “Go on.” I felt his warm hand gently press on my lower back as he encouraged me to take the first step.

  Once at the top, I opened the door letting us in; grateful he was behind me, prodding me along. Otherwise, I would have spent the rest of the afternoon in the foyer.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” It was far too early to go to bed, though the thought crossed my mind briefly as I stopped in front of my bedroom door on the way into the kitchen. Besides, it wouldn't be very hospitable considering Aaron had followed me in and didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry to be on his way. It had been a long day for the both of us, and I was sure he could use an energy boost as well.

  “Yes, please,” he said.

  I set my bag down in front of the bedroom door and tur
ned around; Aaron was still standing by the entrance to the apartment, a thoughtful look on his face.

  “You can sit down.” I pointed toward the living room.

  “Sorry, it's been awhile since I've been here.” He headed over to the couch and sat, still in a somewhat pensive state.

  “Coffee?”

  “Excuse me?” He stared at me blankly.

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  A slow smile spread across my face as I headed back into the kitchen; the more time we spent together, the better.

  “Help him to remember.” Kate's plea whispered in my ear.

  When I returned from the kitchen, precariously balancing a tray in my hands and trying not to upset its contents, Aaron was standing by the computer desk. He seemed very much transfixed, and I wondered what caught his attention.

  “I can't believe this is here.” He spoke in a low voice, and I wasn't quite sure if he was addressing me or was inflicted with the same habit of talking-to-one's-self as I was.

  Once I rid myself of the overloaded tray, my attention focused back on Aaron. In his hand, he held the hand-made pencil holder.

  “That?” I asked walking toward him.

  “Yes, I made it for Jane for Mother's Day.”

  “Mother's Day?”

  “I felt badly that she had no children of her own, and since she spent a good deal of time looking after me, I had my mother help me make this vase, and we filled it with her favourite flowers. Only it proved not to be very watertight.” Aaron placed the container back on the desk. “I had no idea she still had it.”

  “I think my mother still has just about everything I have ever given her. I'm sure your mother does too.” I thought back to the clover Kate had pulled from her Bible.

  “Oh that she does, indeed.” Aaron smiled as he turned and looked at me. My skin prickled as our eyes met, and I felt a sudden flush of heat rise over me.

  “I'll go check on the coffee.” I started to head back to the kitchen when Aaron's very warm hand touched my arm, starting a new wave of prickles just as the first wave subsided.