Authors: Irina Shapiro
Rebecca was impressed. He was intelligent, well spoken and he had a unique perspective on world politics based on his childhood experiences. She realized with a start that it was time for lunch and he must be hungry.
“Where are we going to eat, Sergei? You must be starved.”
“It’s your choice. I am game for anything.”
“Ok. How about one of those Russian cafés on the Boardwalk? I like the one with the blue awning.”
“Done. I like that one too.”
They had a pleasant lunch together and Rebecca was glad when he asked if he may see her again. Sergei gladly dropped her off at her parents’ house and after an exchange of numbers and a sweet goodbye kiss she got out of the car and ran up the steps to the front door. Her phone rang not five minutes after she walked into the kitchen to greet her parents. Sergei called to thank her again for the walk and the lunch and asking if he can take her out the next day. Rebecca was flattered by the attention and readily agreed. With her mom and dad busy in the kitchen, Becky went out on the deck to call Emma and Rachel to fill them in on her day.
“I cannot believe that you can turn a flat tire into an opportunity for romance,” said Rachel in awe. “You are the master.”
“I wasn’t trying to turn it into anything,” said Becky giggling. I was just standing there looking pissed.” She was in a good mood and she looked forward to seeing Sergei tomorrow.
February was Lily’s least favorite month, especially in London. In Cornwall, there were rare days towards the end of February when you could feel the coming of spring in the fresh wind blowing off the sea or see a stray crocus poking it purple head out of the melting snow. In London it was cold, grey and bone-chillingly. She hated it even more because she was lonely and anxious. She hadn’t heard from Nick in two weeks and she was worried sick.
A letter from Alice briefly lifted her spirits the week before, but now she was overcome with misery. She ran home every night after work to check the post tossed carelessly on the floor of the darkened hallway through the letter slot by their elderly postman. There was nothing there for her since the letter from her friend. Alice was in her fifth month of pregnancy and she was just beginning to show. Luckily for her she always had a small waist, so people assumed she wasn’t as far along. Jacob still worked long hours at Bletchley Park, frequently pulling all nighters, but Alice didn’t mind. He was doing important work that could save countless lives. There was still no word from his parents in Germany.
Lily dragged herself to the office after a night of broken sleep. Everyone was already at their stations typing madly, the sound of the keys making their own music in the cavernous space. Lily sat down at her desk and pulled out the first report to be typed. I
t was long and tedious and she could barely concentrate on the words. She hadn't been feeling well since last night. She was nauseous, achy and her skirt felt uncomfortably tight beneath her woolen cardigan. Her period was several days late and Lily was desperately hoping that the discomfort she was feeling was a symptom of pregnancy. She had frequent daydreams of an angelic looking baby sleeping peacefully in its pram while she proudly pushed it around the park. She finally gave up on the report and decided to go to the washroom.
She locked herself in a stall and pulled down her stockings. A wave of disappointment washed over her as she saw the blood on her knickers. She had convinced herself that she was pregnant and the sense of loss she felt for the baby that never was, was overwhelming. Lily quickly wiped away her tears, cleaned up the blood and returned to her desk. She sat down, flipped to the next page of the dreaded report and stared at it without actually seeing it. She just couldn't do this today. She felt sick at heart and the cramps in her belly were quickly becoming more severe. Lily pleaded illness to her boss and asked to go home. Mr. Pinkerton was a known germaphobe and told her to leave as quickly as possible without infecting anyone else. Lily was happy to comply and hastily fled the building. She questioned the wisdom of her decision as soon as she stepped outside. The light snow that was falling when she arrived at work had turned into sleet and it was bitterly cold. Her feet were soaked within minutes. Walking home was out of the question, so Lily waited twenty minutes for a bus that never came and ended up trudging home in the snow and sleet. She was chilled to the bone by the time she finally put the key in the lock. She gulped down a mug of tea, made herself a hot water bottle and went to bed.
Lily woke up two hours later feeling marginally better. The nausea had passed and she was hungry. She was just on her way to the kitchen to heat up some soup when she heard the sound of the post hitting the floor as the postman pushed it through the slot. Maybe there was a letter from Nick at last. She saw the yellow envelope lying innocently among a stack of correspondence and her heart froze. Everyone knew that yellow envelopes were messages of death. She held the letter for a long time before she finally found the courage to open it up.
"Missing in action. Presumed dead."
Lily couldn't remember how she ended up on the floor or how long she lay in that cold hallway curled up into a fetal position on the icy black and white tiles. All she could feel was the horrible ache in her heart. It actually felt like a physical pain. Some time in the evening she finally managed to rouse herself and stumbled back to bed. It took her a long time to warm up and she hugged Nick's pillow before falling into an exhausted sleep.
She was standing in front of a burning building that had been hit by a Doodlebug only moments before. The flames were leaping through windows smashed by the blast and their fiery tongues were getting closer to where she stood. She knew that Nick was somewhere inside, but she couldn't see him or hear him. Strong arms tried to pull her away, but she tried to run inside screaming his name. It was getting hotter and she couldn’t move. She felt the flames lick her face, but couldn’t walk away. Her legs wouldn’t move and her heart was pounding with terror as she tried to wake up.
Lily heard muted voices, but couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. What was the point? Nick was gone, there was no baby and now someone was in her flat. Maybe they'd just go away. She felt a cool hand on her forehead.
"She is burning up. You stay here and I'll go and try to find some aspirin," said the woman's voice.
"Maybe it's Alice. She's come back to take care of me," thought Lily in her delirium.
"All right, Aunt Gwen. I'll be right here," said the man.
As Lily forced herself to open her eyes she saw a man sitting on the edge of her bed and looking down at her with concern. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Nick, you are home. It was all a mistake!" she mumbled. She could barely get the words out with her tongue feeling like wet flannel in her mouth, but she didn’t care. Her husband was home and now everything would be all right.
Rebecca and Emma took the F train to West 4th street and exited the train station into a golden September afternoon. Washington Square Park was humming with life. New York University students walked past them on their way to and from classes and elderly men played chess on tables set up by the fountain. They watched a laughing toddler throw his pacifier into the water and start to wail as his nanny tried to fish it out with her umbrella. Their appointment wasn't for another half an hour, so they took advantage of the gorgeous weather and sat down on a shady bench.
"Are you nervous, Beck?" asked Emma.
"A little. Are you?"
"Not really. I've done it before and it was
entertaining. Can't say it's changed my life,
though. As you see, I still haven’t met “The One”," she said sarcastically.
They got up and walked out of the park following the directions given to them by Rachel’s co-worker. Madame Ruby's establishment was only a block away. It was a tiny storefront that promised "Psychic readings and Tarot Cards" in purple neon. As they walked in a bell chimed somewhere in the back and Madame Ruby herself emerged to greet them. She was very short and plump, dressed in a white peasant blouse and a colorful skirt. It was difficult to tell her age. She could have been anywhere between forty and seventy. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled into a severe bun at the back of her head, but her skin was brown and smooth giving off a faint whiff of jasmine. Madame Ruby's most striking feature, however, were her light yellow eyes. They were in such contrast to her dark skin that they gave the impression of glowing. Rebecca felt as if they were looking straight into her soul. Strangely, she found it comforting.
"Hello, ladies and welcome," she greeted them with a smile. "Who would like to go first?"
Emma stayed in the little ante-room while Rebecca followed Madame Ruby into the back. The room was decorated much as she would expect with a small, round table covered with a fringed, maroon table cloth, a deck of well-used Tarot cards and candles of various dotting every surface. There were no pictures or religious symbols of any kind and Rebecca found that reassuring. Non-denominational was best. Rebecca saw a crystal ball on a shelf as well as more cards and some other strange looking objects and nervousness evaporated. She only felt curiosity at what the woman could possibly tell her.
"Please, sit down, my dear" said the woman. She had a deep, soothing voice reminiscent of warm honey pouring out of a jug. Rebecca sat down but didn't say anything. She wasn’t giving anything away. Madame Ruby looked at her for a long moment before speaking. "Most young ladies come to me to ask about love. They wish to know if their young man is the one they will marry and whether he feels the same way, but you are here for a different reason, aren't you?"
"Yes" murmured Rebecca.
"The answer to your question is yes" said Madame Ruby.
"Which question?"
"Both of them, actually. Yes, our souls return back to earth after the shell perishes and yes, you can have memories of a past life. It's not very common, but it does happen. Usually either something traumatic happens to a person to trigger memories, or the soul is not at peace and wants to pass on some information that would help it move on. In your case, I think it's a little of both. Let me see your hands." Madame Ruby reached out and took Becky's hands into her own. Her hands were so soft that it almost felt like Rebecca's hands were lying on a pillow. She ran her thumbs over Rebecca's palms, but continued to look into her eyes.
"Something happened to you about six months ago. You experienced some head trauma, which was caused by an act of violence. Am I correct?"
"Yes," stammered Becky.
"Since then you have been experiencing dreams or visions of someone from a different time period. You enjoy these visions, but at the same time you are disturbed by them because you don't believe in the afterlife and you think you are losing your mind," said Madame Ruby with a kindly smile.
"You came here to ask me what to do. Am I correct?” She went on without waiting for an answer. “You don't have to do anything. Eventually they will stop on their own, I think. However, if you really feel like you need to know more you can always try to find something out about this person. Obviously, they have passed on, but you can find out something about their life and it would put your mind at rest that your brain is not making all this up. You would feel better knowing that this person was real."
"What if this person did not live here?" asked
Rebecca.
"Would you mind making a journey?"
"I haven't really considered it, but no, I guess I wouldn’t."
"England is lovely this time of year," said Madame Ruby with a mischievous smile.
"How did you know it was England?"
"I can see your past in your eyes, my dear, all of it. Now, before you go I would like to tell you one more thing. When a soul comes back to earth it doesn’t choose a body randomly. Usually, souls reincarnate into families of people with whom they have some kind of a connection. She might be closer to you than you know.”
”I can’t think of anyone that matches the description. I have gone over every member of my family I can think of who was alive at that time. I have never heard the name mentioned either.”
“Sometimes the answers are not obvious. Oh, and the one you are seeing now is not for you,” she said cryptically. “Now, if you don't have any other questions, I will speak with your friend. I have a feeling she is getting a little anxious out there."