Authors: EJ Valson,Michelle Read
CHAPTER 38
I am pulled out of the darknes
s when I hear Stacy’s voice. “Jen, Jen, it’s OK.”
She has my head in her lap and is sitting me up slightly. Steve is kneeling down at my other side. I can feel the presence of other people in the room around us. I try to open my eyes, but the fluorescent lighting overhead is piercing them.
“Can someone turn off the lights?” Stacy asks to the room when she sees me struggling. Seconds later the room is darker, with only soft shadowed sunlight filtering through the blinds.
It is quiet now, and whoever is in the room is speaking in hushed tones.
“Jen, the ambulance is on its way,” Stacy whispers to me.
I shake my head, still lying in Stacy’s lap. “I don’t...I don’t need it.” I whisper back.
“It’s OK. They are just going to check you out. You were out for about ten minutes so we were worried and called 911,” Stacy explains, while softly stroking my hair to keep me calm.
I’m so tired and feel so weak.
“Ruth said you had a small car accident this morning, so we want to make sure you don’t have a concussion or whiplash,” Steve says. I give in and stop resisting them.
“We’ve called Joe, too.” Ruth says, from somewhere in the shadows of the room.
Great. Just what I need.
“Jag hoppas verkligen att allt är okej med henne,” I hear a male voice say to someone in the room. My heart starts to race again. It’s Michael. He is still here and he is hoping that I’m OK. It dawns on me that I must know this language…Swedish.
“Stacy, what’s the date?” I whisper to her very quietly, so no one else can hear.
She looks at me, puzzled. “It’s January 31st,” she says.
“But, what’s the year?” I ask.
She is silent for a moment. “2006,” she answers, confused.
My heart sinks. Today is the date Michael and I first met.
But now
I’m just a stranger to him. And one that upon our first encounter went into shock and passed out. This is not the way we met the first time.
C
HAPTER 39
After the paramedics arrive and check me out, they conclude
I’m fine and just need to rest. Joe arrives shortly after to take me home. I am having a hard time looking at either him or Michael. I feel guilty.
Ruth tells me to take a couple of days off. I thank her, Stacy and Steve and tell them I will be back on Thursday. Joe decides it would be best to leave my car at work. Stacy agrees to pick me up for work when
I’m ready to come back.
I am quiet in the truck as we drive home. I’m in shock and feeling heartbroken. Joe doesn’t press me for details about the car accident or the passing out incident. It has obviously shaken him, because he insists on me sitting in the middle truck seat next to him.
After we get home, I go straight to bed. Joe heads back to work when I assure him that I’m fine. I feel like I have no other option than to sleep. Maybe this is just another dream, or a nightmare. Maybe if I go to sleep I will wake up and be back in the life that I now remember with Michael.
I don’t wake up until almost 4:00 p.m. I snap out of a dream that is so real I can barely tell which reality I am in when I open my eyes. Something at my core is pressing me to go back to work and see Michael. My body is longing to be as close to him as possible. My head is telling me that it is a bad idea. And my heart is caught in the middle.
My car is gone, so I have no way of getting to work and I know Joe would never allow me to go back today.
I’m almost in a panic. I feel like I have enough adrenaline to run there. I need to see Michael. Maybe if he sees me, he will see us together too. Maybe something will happen that will put us back to the life we have in our future.
I jump out of bed and head for the bathroom. I look terrible. I don’t know my plan yet, but I know I’m going back to the office and I am going back now. I quickly brush my teeth, put on some makeup and freshen up.
I run to the living room to find my purse, then realize I must have left it at work. Perfect! Now I have an excuse to go back. I frantically dial my dad’s number. Mary answers. After hurriedly explaining that I need a ride back to work to get my purse and car, and repeatedly assuring her that I am OK, I convince her to give me a ride -- since my dad is not home. Within five minutes she is at the house and we are on our way.
“Please don’t tell Joe you did this, OK?” I plead with her. “I will explain it to him later.”
She hesitantly agrees. “I don’t know why you need to go back today, Honey. What’s the rush?” she asks.
“I left something important there,” I explain. I stare out the window, recalling how Michael looked this morning. I could see youth in his face that I didn’t notice the first time we met. He is handsome as his younger self, but later when he turns thirty he is even more-so.
I smile slightly when I realize he has his European faux-hawk hairstyle again -- a hairstyle I haven’t seen on him since we were dating. In the future he is much more professional and Americanized in his appearance.
“Here you are, my d
ear,” Mary says sweetly, as she pulls into the parking lot. I quickly get out and thank her. Most of the cars are gone for the day, including Steve’s and Stacy’s. When I walk into the office, almost all the lights are off.
Because it is still winter the building is dark at this time of day. I move through the office gingerly to avoid anyone seeing or hearing me and asking about what happened earlier. There is a light on in the Marketing department and a glow emanating from a computer monitor on a desk in the corner of the room.
I am quiet as I approach the doorway. I can hear the click of a mouse, followed by typing. I see Michael sitting at the desk, his back to me. I want to say hello, but I can’t bring myself to. Sensing someone in the room, he quickly turns around and sees me standing there.
“Jesus, you scared me,” he says startled.
His reaction makes me jump. “Sorry,” I say, embarrassed.
We stare at each other in silence for a moment. I am not a person who is typically at a loss for words, so I’m unsure why I can’t find them now.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks. I can hear the slight Swedish accent now. He often only has this when he has been speaking Swedish for long periods of time. The more English he speaks, the more his accent disappears -- a trait that seems to amaze everyone he meets when they find out he is from Sweden, but has no dialect.
“Yes, thank you,” I say, blushing, while fighting the urge to run to him and force him to hold me. “Sorry about scaring you. I guess I’m still shaken up from earlier” I explain. He nods in agreement.
The silence is awkward and I can tell it is making him uncomfortable. “So, are you all settled into your place?” I ask quickly, trying to make conversation before he brushes me off.
“Yeah, but the people that live there are weird,” he says with a chuckle.
I pull a chair from another desk and take a seat while he begins to tell me about the strange German student that hides out in his room and the Indian guy that eats beef in secret. As he is speaking I realize that I already know some of these stories. Each time he says something familiar, I get a warm tingling sensation.
I’m looking fondly at the younger version of my husband while he speaks. I am confident that someday he will have deeper laugh lines, because he laughs and smiles more in the future -- especially after the birth of our daughter Stella, whose face I’m starting to see in my mind again. I believe that his left bicep will be home to a beautiful floral tattoo, embellished with Stella’s footprint and name. His chest will bear a retro tattoo of a deck of cards, with our initials. A wedding band will grace his left hand. I am slowly tuning out his voice as he tells stories about finding familiar foods, while I envision all of these things about future Michael. And tears begin to fill my eyes.
“Are you alright?” he asks when he notices my tears.
“Oh yeah. I’m fine.” I brush it off, embarrassed again and trying to conceal my tears. “I am just tired and my eyes water when I need sleep,” I lie.
“You should probably get home and rest,” he says.
“Yes, you are right.” I agree, and stand up to leave.
“It was nice talking with you,” he says, as I head towards the doorway out of the office. I turn back to face him, but he is focused on the computer screen again. I take a moment to watch him. I feel my heart swell with all the love I feel for him. I choke back my tears as I hurry to get my purse and leave.
I make it out to my car without being noticed by anyone else in the building. I briefly recall the car accident from this morning, and get a little nervous about driving before I get in. When I turn the ignition, the radio blares from earlier that morning. I quickly turn the volume down. I lean my head back on the headrest, take a deep breath, and close my eyes to fight the tears. It was hard to be without him when he wasn’t here. But it will be unbearable to have him here and not be able to be with him.
I decide to call Joe and tell him where I am.
I’m sure he is almost home and will be worried. After a somewhat tense call and him urging me to come home, I’m saved by the call waiting tone beeping through -- so I have an excuse to hang up.
I switch the line over without checking the number.
“Jennifer,
it’s Astrid,” comes Astrid’s urgent voice. “What happened?”
C
HAPTER 40
I always trusted in Astrid’s abilities but I never thought she would know or feel that Michael was here. Her call surprises me, but she is exactly who I need to talk to, in light of the recent events.
On the drive home I explain what had happened as best I could while she listens intently. She wants to see me as soon as possible, but isn’t sure if she will be able to get ahold of John -- as he was on a sabbatical in Mexico. I tell her that I can see her the next day, since
I’m not due back in the office until Thursday. I know it is necessary to meet with her, but part of me wants to go back to work early just to be close to Michael.
When I get home Joe questions me again about why I went back to work. He is obviously worried about my health and does not understand why it was so critical that I return to work
that
day. After apologizing and telling him that I will rest the next day, he backs off and we go about our evening. I decide to take comfort in a warm bath, which I end up silently sobbing in as soon as my body submerges in the soothing water.
It is clear my emotional threshold has reached its capacity. In the span of nine hours I had woken up to one life I had resigned myself to only to have another life I was quickly forgetting thrown right smack in front of me. The love of my life had reemerged from the recesses of my mind and soul and became a real presence in my new world. The memory of my other child, almost lost to me, had been resurrected.
As relieved as I am to have these feelings and memories again and to see Michael in the flesh and know what could be, my heart is breaking right down the middle.
I’m presently imprisoned in my past, longing for a future that may never be.
The next morning I head to Astrid’s as soon as Joe leaves with Olivia. He arranged to take her to school today so I could rest. I don’t even bother to shower or put on makeup. I am sure Astrid will forgive my appearance, considering the urgency of this visit.
When I arrive she has already brewed a pot of Earl Grey tea and warmed some scones. When I come through the door I take in my surroundings, and again marvel that her home is always inviting -- with a crackling warm fire, plush pillows and the scent of vanilla and lavender. This is a safe haven for me. I need one.
Astrid asks me to sit down and explain to her again the previous day’s events. I am sure my explanation over the phone was jumbled and overflowing with emotion.
As I begin my story about going back to work to see Michael, she interrupts me. “Oh, do you have your journal?” she asks.
I sit silent, feeling like a child who has been caught doing something wrong. I shake my head. “I burned it,” I reply solemnly.
Her eyes widen. “Jennifer, why?” she asks.
I shrug. “I didn’t see the point in having it. I was getting to the point where I couldn’t even remember Michael’s name, or Stella’s name, or any of the details about the life I thought I had before,” I explain.
She pauses for a minute, thinking, then responds. “Honestly, I have no idea what to do in this situation,” she says, with concern. “I can’t reach John and I think he still has all of your recorded sessions, but it could be another month or so until we can get in contact with him.”
The phone rings shrilly, interrupting her train of thought. “Excuse me,” she says, and leaves to answer it.
“Oh my God, we were just talking about you!” she exclaims to the person on the other end of the line. I am relieved to realize it is John. I hear her relay to him a condensed version of what has occurred, with pauses and inflections in between while he replies. I can only assume he is as surprised as Astrid is.
“John wants to talk to you,” Astrid calls from the other room. I hurry to the phone. I can tell he is calling from a payphone. There are sounds of cars in the background and the connection is poor. I imagine him surrounded by dirt roads, chickens and buses in the outskirts of a Mexico City.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hi…hi, Jennifer…can you hear me?” he yells into the phone.
“Yes,” I respond. “Can you hear me?”
“Sort of...just talk loudly,” he requests.
I spend the next fifteen minutes almost shouting to make sure he hears me as I explain what has happened. When we hang up my voice is hoarse but my spirits are lifted, as John is again engaged in the process of figuring out what has happened to me and has some ideas on what to do next. He has altered his travel plans to accommodate my new situation. Unfortunately, he still won’t be back for a few months.
I learn from Astrid that John has headed to Mexico to attend a spiritual symposium about traveling souls. Astrid said that I had inspired him. When he realized he couldn’t fully help me, he felt discouraged and depressed. He wanted to explore the possibility of time travel, fate and destiny. When he got Astrid’s latest voicemail, updating him on my current circumstances, he was very excited. He felt as if he was getting a second chance to help me, as long as I could wait for his return.
In the week he had been in Mexico, he’d participated in discussions with other mediums and past life regression practitioners about the religious practices of ancient tribes and Shamanism. These discussions prompted John to believe that perhaps I’m not the only person who has had this type of experience. He intended to do some additional research, but that would take time and require him to be out of touch -- as he would be traveling to remote locations.
If there is going to finally be an answer for me, I am sure that I can wait for it.