The Last Rogue Soul

by S E Brower

  They finished devouring a beautiful holiday dinner their mother prepared, looking forward to a dessert of warm cherry, and blueberry pies. Travis got up from the table in the tiny dining room to get another cup of coffee. “Travis, grab me another fork while you are up please, thanks,” Jessie said, cutting into the cherry pie. “Does anyone else want some, before I put this knife down?”

  “I’ll have blueberry,” her dad chimed in.

  “Here’s your fork,” Travis flipped it behind his back. Jessie caught it without looking up, not missing a beat. Their mother scolded them, but smiled, remembering the days when they were rough housing teenagers still living at home.

  “Remember how I used to kick your butt out in the yard?” Jessie pointed her fork at Travis.

  “You never kicked my butt, Little Sister,” he laughed, “I always let you win.”

  “True,” she agreed, taking another bite of pie. “Hey, Travis. Do you ever think about Raven?” Everyone stopped talking and stared at her. “What?” her mouth still full of pie.

  Travis looked at her like she had six heads. “Do you mean the black dog, named Star?”

  “No. I mean the black dog, named Raven.”

  “We never had a dog named Raven.”

  “Dad, tell him,” Jessie pleaded, “her name was Raven, I remember, I know I’m right.”

  Jessie’s dad smiled at her, “Sweetheart, the dog’s name was Star.” And so, it went, round and round becoming a heated argument until Jessie conceded when everyone else agreed with her brother. It was a lesson learned long ago. One she had obviously forgotten. She never argued with her brother, and hated the feeling, on top of which, she was positive she was right.

  She began to question the sanity of everyone else. Either that or she was the crazy one. “Was she?” She didn’t know anymore, “This is ridiculous. I guess I’ll have to learn to keep my mouth shut,” she scolded herself. The incident was glossed over, and never mentioned again, but this time, Jessie would not forget it.

  Jessie and Michael returned to Monterey, only to receive PCS orders, meaning Permanent Change of Station several times. Jessie never really minded, because they always lived on base and she made friends with the other Officer’s wives. Then one day, she received wonderful news. Travis and Carrie were expecting twin girls! When Lillian and Violet arrived, the baby bug had bitten Jessie in earnest. It wasn’t long before she and Michael were expecting a child of their own.

  They had a daughter named Alex, and two years later Jessie gave birth to a baby boy they called Logan. Carrie and Travis welcomed another little girl, Bella just one month before. Blissfully happy, Jessie noticed the spells were coming less and less. The nightmares subsided too, happening only around once a month. Still, they were upsetting, and she awoke drenched and shaken.

  With children to think about, she didn’t dwell so much on things she didn’t understand. However, once the children arrived, Jessie would not tolerate another move, putting her foot down, insisting on settling somewhere. That somewhere turned out to be Chesapeake. Though decidedly closer than Monterey, it was still a long way from the family where she had grown up in rural Pennsylvania.

  She liked the area. Michael’s base was nearby. The schools were great, and as the kids grew, they thrived in the environment. Life was good if sometimes lonely. Military wives must also be courageous. When your husband is deployed, you learn to be self-sufficient.

  On this fine spring day however, Jessie had errands to run. Her kids were in school and with no one to worry over, she swung into a local coffee shop. “I’ll have a mocha Latte with extra whipped cream,” she told the barista. “Thank you, it’s a perfect day,” she smiled when he handed it to her. Coffee in hand, she headed out the door.

  Jessie was in her car listening to the radio, sipping her latte and enjoying herself. As she drove along, thoughts of her family wormed their way through her mind, each person one by one. She knew a premonition was about to happen and worried what she would see. Her perfect day was about to be run into a ditch.

  It had been a long while since the last one and she braced herself for the onslaught. Instead, to her surprise, flashes of words from the ‘other place’ crowded thoughts of loved ones into the background.

  “Wow, this never happened before, at least not while I was wide awake,” she thought, her pulse quickened as she drove. Concentrating hard, she strained to understand things way beyond her grasp. “I need answers to all those years of wondering. Maybe, I’m about to get some.” Letting the images wash over her, a flood of information seeped in.

  At first, she thought of books, more than any one person could count. “No, not just books. Scrolls… and books,” she mouthed, barely above a whisper, scrunching up her nose. In her mind, she saw rolls of paper on which were written foreign words, and suddenly realized they were scrolls, leaving her annoyed for not understanding it, until now.

  There was something else, too. “A person, no not quite, who or better still, what was it?” she thought. An entity of sorts, a purer energy than she could ever imagine, with penetrating blue eyes, replaced with images of a second energy, this one, not quite so pure.

  All notions of entities and words vanished as quickly as they appeared, and it was getting harder for her to concentrate on the road. Then without warning, something was wrong. Jessie had felt ‘the stir’ like a kick to the gut. It overwhelmed her with feelings of deep sadness and loss. As she drove, it surprised her, to find tears were running down her cheeks. “What is the matter with me?” she thought, glancing into the rearview mirror to wipe them away.

  But it didn’t wipe away the sadness she felt in the pit of her stomach. She knew like she knew her own name, something awful just happened, but she didn’t know what. Biting her lip as she often did when she was worried, “Something is wrong,” she said aloud, her own voice startling her back into the driver’s seat. Once again, looking into the rearview mirror, her brown eyes stared back at her. “Well, that’s just great. Now, I’m talking to myself.”

  When she looked back at the road, Jessie let out a gasp. A little dog appeared out of nowhere. Swerving right, she stood hard on her breaks to avoid hitting it. The sudden stop sent her coffee flying in a steaming, sticky mess, all over the passenger seat, followed by a few swear words, too. “Son of a… ugh,” she groaned.

  Her adrenaline pumping, she spied a familiar clearing a short distance ahead and drove to it, pulling over. Confused and shaking, she whispered, “Wait, was that… I swear that was my parent’s dog. No, no, couldn’t be,” she shook her head.

  She had just calmed down, when the feelings of impending doom settled back in, and she momentarily forgot the close encounter with the dog. In a panic, Jessie realized her mother was in terrible trouble. “Mom, oh my God, it’s Mom!” Jessie wailed, as both hands clenched the steering wheel and she prayed this time her premonition was wrong.

  She needed Michael more than ever, but couldn’t talk to him, so she did the next best thing. She called her brother, Travis.

  Still trembling, barely able to get her phone out of her purse, she nearly dropped it onto the now Latte infused passenger seat. She was so worried, she could hardly breathe. “Calm down, everything will be fine,” she told herself, “you’re over-reacting. It’s probably nothing.” Her phone to her ear, she waited for Travis to answer. “Pick up, pick up, please pick up,” she pleaded. It was then, she looked back towards the street. Up, down and across, her eyes narrowing as she searched, but there was no sign of the little dog.

  The call to Travis confirmed her worst fear. Their mother wasn’t just in trouble, she was dying. Her vitals were failing and there was no telling how long she would last. Jessie couldn’t even bring herself to say the words let alone think them. But the fact remained, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop it from happening.

  Travis told her their mother was in a coma. He tried to contact her earlier, but somehow, she missed the call. Faith had been ill for some time and J
essie knew it. But recently, she took a turn for the worse. She would not allow Harrison or Travis to tell Jessie, knowing she would drop everything to come home, and Faith didn’t want to disrupt her daughter’s life. When Jessie found out, she was angry with her dad and brother, for not telling her and felt guilty for not being there sooner.

  Tapping her turn signal, to jump back into the line of traffic, Jessie raced to pick her kids up from school, then hurried back home to pack. She threw together a quick and easy dinner, cleared the dishes, zipped up her suitcase and tossed it into the trunk of her car. She buckled up the kids, and headed home, to her childhood home, northwest of Philadelphia. It was a six-hour drive, if she hurried maybe four and a half. “At this rate, it will be damned near midnight until I get there,” she frowned.

  Pulling away, she considered her children, Alex and Logan. “They love my mom so much. How will I ever be able to tell them?” she wondered. Death was something no one ever talked about. She would have to explain it to them, eventually.

  Looking out through her windshield, the night sky offered only a glimpse of the stars obscured by the lights from the highway. The fleeting wish for a pair of wings, to fly out among them, far away from all of this, floated through her mind.

  The kids had already fallen asleep, and for that she was grateful. The situation would have been impossible, if it were not for Carrie offering to care for her kids, so Jessie could be with her mom.

  Thinking of Alex and Logan, made her mind do a quick accounting of the things she packed them for the trip. “Damn it,” Jessie muttered under her breath, “I forgot their Easter Baskets. I wanted to get stuff to put in them.”

  It was Easter weekend, and she intended to bring the Kids’ baskets along, but in her haste to reach her mother before it was too late, she forgot them. “No matter, I’ll just buy new ones when I get there. Life goes on I suppose, but Easter is the least of my worries,” she reasoned.

  With Logan and Alex asleep in the backseat, Jessie drove into the night. She turned her attention to Michael, wanting to call just to hear his voice. He was her rock, but he was unreachable. She wasn’t even sure of his location this time. Still, she sent word to the Navy about her mother before she left. “I don't know if he’ll even get the message,” she thought, and her heart ached to see his face again, and kiss him. She longed to be in his arms and needed him beside her. The timing couldn't be worse. “Deployments suck,” she decided.

  Blinking back tears, she told herself, “No time for crying, there’s a long drive ahead.” She flipped through radio stations as she drove, eager to get there, yet dreading it just the same. “How will I ever get through this without Mom?” she wondered. Other than her husband, how ironic that the one person she wanted to rely on, always relied on, wasn’t available. Her mother would never be there for her again. The finality of was disturbing, and she pushed the thought away.

  Giving into her grief just wasn’t an option. Instead, she took a big swallow of coffee and called her brother, to let him know she was on her way.

  When Travis answered, his voice was nearly a whisper, “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” she parroted his greeting. Fighting back her emotions, she asked, “How’s Dad holding up?”

  He drew in a long breath before he answered, “Like you’d expect, he's pretty much a wreck.”

  Jessie’s heart sank at the thought of having to witness her father’s heartache. “How about you, Travis? How are you holding up?”

  “I'm hanging in there, but she’s still in a coma.” There was a slight pause, then, “Hurry, Sis.” His voice was thick and nervous.

  “I’m trying to, Travis. I’ll be there as quick as I can,” she hesitated before she spoke again, “it’s just with Easter weekend and all, the traffic is going to be heavy.” This time there wasn’t a pause, it was audible dead air. “Travis, did I lose you?”

  “No, I’m still here. What was that now?” his voice rising in pitch.

  “I said, it’s Easter weekend.”

  “What are you talking about… Easter?” he interrupted her sounding annoyed, “Easter, like Easter Island?” Now, he sounded confused.

  Rolling her eyes and thinking this wasn’t the time for sarcasm, she answered with an exaggerated, “No. Easter!” she repeated, louder than she intended, “you know, Easter. As in Easter Bunny, (Emphasis on the bunny), colored eggs, jelly beans, ring a bell?”

  “I don't understand what you are talking about Jess, and you are scaring me. Okay?”

  Jessie frowned biting her lip, “Okay, chill all right.”

  “Get it together, Jess. Dad needs us.”

  “I know!” she snapped, when suddenly he hung up. No goodbye. No see you later, just silence. He had never, ever hung up on her before. Shocked, Jessie took in a sharp breath and glared at the phone. Then, defeated, she stared out through her windshield into the inky blackness that was I-95, a complete reflection of the dark sadness swallowing her whole. Not only was she losing her mother, but she felt as if she were losing her brother as well.

  All the months separating her from her husband never left her feeling this alone. “What on Earth was going on?” she thought, “first Raven, now Easter. Either her brother was losing his mind, or she was. Was she?” It was just like the argument about the dog, all over again.

  “Did anyone else realize it was Easter weekend?” she wondered, “I can’t be the only one, can I? The traffic does seem light for a holiday weekend. Come to think of it, I don’t even remember seeing any decorations out in our neighborhood, or candy in the grocery store. That’s so odd,” she thought. Her mother was always the voice of reason. She needed her mom now, more than ever. In her heart of hearts, Jessie understood things were amiss. Terrible, evil, awful things.

  With hours to drive, and still angry Travis hung up on her, she needed something else to think about and turned her thoughts once again to her mother. But this time, she reminisced through happier memories. Thinking of the stories her mother relayed about herself, and her own childhood, growing up in the sixty’s. Jessie thought about how her parents met and fell in love in the seventies, and how her mother wanted babies more than anything. “Mom always said, it was a miracle I was even born Jessie mused, but, here I am.”

  Overwhelmed, and weepy, Jessie’s eyes stung with the hurt that comes with loss. The kids were asleep, and feeling abandoned and powerless, this time, she let the silent tears fall. Not wanting to wake them while she cried, she turned down the sound on the radio just as ‘Faith’, by George Michael, played. Faith, her mother’s name… so curious.

  “That’s easy for you to say, George,” she whispered. Jessie took a long, deep breath and another sip of her coffee, as she listened. With tears still wet on her cheeks, she slipped the cup back into the holder, scanning the rearview mirror. Just for a split second, she swore a pair of steely blue eyes stared back at her!

  Unnerved, she continued to drive looking straight ahead, petrified. She knew the kids were alone in the back, and no one else was there, but she was terrified to look again. It took another full mile before she worked up the courage to peek.

  Nothing, only the headlights of the car behind her, no eyes. Relieved, she reached again for her coffee, as the next song tiptoed through her speakers. ‘Every Breath You Take’, by The Police.

  “Love that song, but nope, not right now,” she shook her head, and a tiny shiver ran down her back, as she reached to switch off the radio. She would put the worrisome blue eyes, and why Easter would disappear aside… for now. Concentrating on getting home, she drove in solitude, picking up the pace to get there before it was too late.

  Chapter 3

  Going by Faith

  Jessie’s mother’s name was Elaine Faith Archer. Except for the last name, it was a name given to her by her Mother. It was March, mid-1950’s on a Wednesday, cold and gray in late winter when Faith arrived. Her father was an air force pilot stationed at Ellsworth Air Force Base in South Dakota. Life began as one mor
e Air Force Brat, destined to pack up at a moment’s notice.

  Her mother, a nurse by profession, was on hiatus to raise her eventual brood of three boys and one girl. To keep the family close, they made their home on the base. In true military fashion, her mother raised them with discipline, if not love.

  While love was always implied, it was tempered with, and in direct proportion to one’s expedient adherence to their mother’s orders. “You need to wash the dishes.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “You need to mop up the floor and watch your baby brother.”

  “Yes, Mom.” This was how it was from a very early age. Faith learned to do as her mother told her, and to keep her mouth shut. Her mother’s parenting style instilled in her two conflicting things. The first, being an impeccable work ethic, the second, loathe of being told what to do. Faith didn’t like being ordered around, or worse, manipulated.

  Being the only girl in a family of four children, she was without question the apple of her father’s eye. Her mother, however, was not without her favorite. Faith’s older brother, and the firstborn, could do no wrong in their mother’s eyes.

  But it didn’t matter, her father adored her, and the admiration flowed right back. He doted on her from the start. So much so, it raised the ire of her mother, on more than one occasion. Two days after her birth, her father held her in his arms, this pink and precious blue-eyed baby. As he did, her tiny hand curled around his finger. “I think I will call you Faith,” he whispered. He never wavered, much to her mother’s chagrin. Her mother may have named her Elaine, but her father only ever called her Faith, and so, she went by Faith.

  Faith was a beautiful child. Fair of face, with rosy chiseled cheeks, all elbows and knees, with long legs and even longer sun kissed tendrils cascading around her shoulders. Everyone who met her would never forget those magnificent golden curls. She had beautiful blue eyes, that twinkled with a knowing beyond her years. She was intelligent. So much so, that at the behest of one of her teachers, her mother had Faith’s IQ tested, along with that of her older brother’s.