Of That Day and Hour: A psychological thriller (8 page)

“This is where you start to
believe.”

Jeff, Aimee and Eve walk
down the rickety steps. A single bulb illuminates the dark cellar at the bottom
of the stairs; musty smells permeate the air. Without warning, a loose board
gives way with a splintering crack beneath Jeff’s foot. He grabs the handrail,
managing to save himself.

 
“Are you alright?” Eve’s concerned for Jeff.

“Yes. Be careful on that
step.”

Casey’s parting words,
'Watch your step.' spring to Eve’s mind as Jeff safely reaches the hard dirt
floor. He holds his hand out for Aimee; she smiles, thinking to herself that
they seem to be good folks. The cellar itself is empty; for a moment they stand
motionless next to the light bulb.

“I’m sorry, I should have
warned you about the step. Casey always said he would fix that one day.”

“No harm done.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.
Sometimes all we have to do is look into the light to find our answers.”

Aimee’s hand points up to a
date carved on a thick supporting beam, just above their heads and perfectly
lit by the bulb.

“Jeff.” Eve’s flustered.
“That’s today's date!”

“I know.” Jeff’s brain
cannot take in the reality of the situation.

“Casey carved this ten years
ago. He told me that on this day, white folks will come; they will ask about
me, and you must show them this.”

Back upstairs Aimee hands
them both a cup of tea; they need a drink.

“How did he know we were
going to come here all those years ago?”

“You’ll have to ask him when
you see him.”

“Did he say anything else to
you?” Eve pleads to Aimee. “Anything at all?”

“No.” Aimee can see the
desperation and confusion on both their faces. “He just said I was to show you
the date, and that you would know.”

A loud knock at the door
interrupts the conversation; Jeff’s too confused to even consider that it may
concern the car.

“Excuse me; I won’t be a moment.”
Aimee walks across the room and answers the door; a muffled male voice is heard
in conversation. Eve turns to Jeff.

“What do you make of this?”

“I don’t know.”

“It was today’s date.”

“It can be faked.”

“How?” Eve knows he’s in
denial. “Casey didn’t even know we were coming here, and he’s not permitted
contact with the outside world.”

Speechlessly Jeff s raises
his hands. Aimee returns, accompanied by a large man, dressed in a striking
purple football jacket with white sleeves, blue turn-up jeans and brown leather
boots. His manner is friendly, but concerned.

“Jamal said there be white
folks at Aimee’s. It’s not safe for you to be here.”

“Jamal?”

“The boy outside watching
your car.”

“Ah.”

“André, they’ve come to
speak to me about Casey.” Aimee tries to pacify André’s confrontational
demeanor. “They’re here to help.”

“Help?” André looks at them
both. “How can you help?”

“I’m Casey’s psychiatrist.”
She passes him her business card. “We have to be able to present evidence
before the court, if he’s ever to have a chance of a retrial.” André doesn’t
look overly impressed. “I presume you’re familiar with his defense?”

“Yeah.”

“How do we prove a future
memory, especially when it concerns homicide?”

“Killing cops; he’s no
chance.”

“We’re here to help.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m sorry.”
André sighs out loud and then takes a seat. “You can't understand, you weren’t
handed to the third-world streets like us.” Bitterness and pain flow through
his lips. “Here our gutters overflow with needles, and our children have to
deal with police harassment. It’s our grandparents and parents who watch
helplessly as a new generation slips away.”

“We do share your concerns.”
Jeff looks to Eve for back up. “We’re angry about poverty too.”

“Anger.” Jamal shakes his
head. “No; not any more. Leave that to others like you. I worry for my boy who
stands outside watching your car, whilst I’m constantly asked if the car I’m
driving is mine.”

“I hear you.” Although
Jeff’s never had to face racism personally; he does understand André’s
position. “We do have Casey’s best interests at heart.” In a bid to reinforce
Jeff’s words, Eve appeals to André.

“Can you help us?” André
takes a minute to study them both. Cops, courts and psychiatrists; there’s no
difference. But he’d be letting Casey down if he didn’t.

“What do you want to know?”

“Thank you.” Eve physically
relaxes with relief. “Has Casey shown any signs of being psychic around you?”

“Hell, I was his bro from
birth. We grew up in this hood together; he saved my life on more than one
occasion. You have to understand ghetto life, we lived like bangers into our
teens; you’re nobody on the street unless you're part of a gang, easy prey on
your own. One day someone turned mouse and the brothers thought it was me.”

“What happened?”

“What always happens, shit
happened. Casey had my back. One day he came to me and told me to get out of
the house; he saw me in a dream burning. That night a firebomb came through my
window.”

“Is there any way he could
have known that from someone else?”

“Hell no. I trust him with my
life. The most important thing he taught me is that you can’t be happy living
amongst hate.” André pauses, a silent thought for brothers lost. “Most of the
haters are now dead or in prison. Casey's a good man with a good soul. He needs
help.”

“You have my word we’ll do
our best for him. Is there anything else, anything at all that might be of
importance before we go?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that?”

“Send him our love.” The
anguish on their faces reflect the inner pain.

“Of course.”

“And keep rolling at the
crossroads.” This warning is issued with genuine concern. “Don’t stop; keep
going till you’re out of here.”

“We will.”

“One last thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to pay the kid
on your way out.” Jeff nods without saying a word.

Eve stands beside Aimee at
the front door whilst Jeff pays Jamal. He slips the boy ten dollars instead of
five; somehow it feels right.

“Is your Jeff a good man,
Eve?” Aimee asks quietly.

“I think so.”

“Best watch him.” There’s
concern in Aimee’s voice. “This is going to hit him harder than you think.”

“I’ll keep my eye on him.”

“You do that, and say
goodbye for me.”

“I will. If we need to speak
to you again is that okay?”

“I’m sorry, I won’t be
around.” There’s a pause before Aimee says. “I’m going to visit relatives.”

“I hope you have a nice
time.”

“Thank you, and stay
blessed.”

“You too. We’ll do our best
for Casey.”

“I know.”

Back in the car Eve looks
towards the house; the front door has already been closed.

“Seems the wrong side of
town isn’t all bad. What did you make of her?”

“She seemed nice. Good
people born into bad situations; same old shit! Our life would have been no
different.”

“And the date?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well you’ve got eyes and
ears just like me. We need to come up with some answers.”

Back at the motel, Eve sits
beside Jeff on the couch, handing him a cup of coffee.

“Just because you don’t
believe in the paranormal doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist.”

“I’m not ruling anything
out.”

“After today I believe
Casey.”

“Just like that?” Jeff can’t
believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah.”

“Eve, he killed two cops.”

“You’re in denial.”

“I’m not.”

“You are! Just because it
doesn’t fit into your comfortable view of the world doesn’t mean that it’s not
real. History’s full of unexplained events and phenomenon; science is powerful,
but it can’t explain everything.”

“But we still have to be
scientific.”

“How?” Eve’s exhausted with
this endless debate, and she’s not getting anywhere fast with Jeff.

“We’ll just have to explore
further afield.”

“And do what?”

“Find someone who’s in the
field of parapsychology and psychic phenomena. Someone who’s spent their life
researching and documenting the paranormal, and someone who’s scientific with
his research.” Jeff thinks out loud. “He may even hold the answers for us.”

“You know someone.” There’s
a glimmer of hope in her voice.

“I might know the man.” Jeff
knows he’s dangling a carrot.

“That sounds promising.”

“It’s a bit more complicated
than that.” His face drops. “There’s animosity between us, and we haven’t been
in contact for years.”

“Why not?”

“Do you mind if I tell you
later?”

“Keeping things from me?”
Eve teases to lighten the mood.

“No.” Jeff plants a kiss on
her lips. “I’m not.”

The rest of the afternoon is
spent making love. Their energy is different, spiritually charged; two souls
together trying to make sense of the world.

“I’m always yours no matter
where you are.”

“Promise?” Jeff tries and
fails to keep his voice light.

“I promise.”

“You won’t leave me again?”

“Never.” Eve can see the
fear in his eyes. “But if you lose me, it’s up to you to find me again.”

“I won’t let you out of my
sight.” Jeff’s reassured, less insecure.

“Do you think we’ve been
here before?”

“As in?”

“Past life, here on this
bed, the same words and feelings?”

“It’s a nice thought.”

“I would like to think we
come back; that it doesn’t just stop. Life’s so lonely with nothing at the end,
don’t you think?”

“Yeah. I would do it all
again, just to be here in your arms.”

“That’s sweet. Do you really
mean it?”

“I’ll prove it to you next
time round.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

The following morning Jeff’s
on the bed, listening to the sound of the shower. It stops, and minutes later
the most beautiful woman in the world walks back into the room. He pulls the
sheet back and taps the bed with a smile.

“We don’t have time now, and
don’t look at me with those eyes; it’s your own fault you lost your cell phone
at Aimee’s.”

“A bit of sympathy please. I
did nearly break my neck on those steps.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

Jeff takes his shower whilst
Eve runs across the street for coffee and breakfast sandwiches. After breakfast
it’s a simple matter of ensuring they have all their possessions packed, and
then handing back the keys. Eve sits in the car wondering if they’ll ever come
back. Jeff walks out of the office and steps into the car.

“All done?”

“Yeah. Said she’d give us a
discount next time.”

“That’s nice.”

And so another rental car
pulls away from the Pink Lady Motel. This one’s heading back to the rougher
side of town. The first thing they see as they drive into Aimee’s street is the
ambulance and a small crowd gathering. As they drive closer they realize it’s
outside Aimee’s house.

“This doesn’t look good.” A
bad feeling like a cloak drapes over Eve, threatening to smother her.

“The front door's open.”

“What do we do?”

Jeff drives past the house
and parks on the opposite side. They both twist themselves round to see what
happens next.

“We’ll have to wait.”

“Jeff, I hope she’s
alright.”

Yet no sooner said before
two men walk out of the house. Between them they carry a stretcher, and a body
covered by a blanket.

“Oh my God! Jeff, she’s
dead.” Eve sensed something was wrong.

“She can’t be.”

André appears at the door,
distressed, and walks to the back of the ambulance. He stands helpless as the
stretcher carrying Aimee’s body is lifted in.

“Time to go.”
 
Jeff puts the car into drive. “There’s
nothing here for us.”

Eve continues to look back
at the scene as they drive away.

“I thought it was strange
yesterday; she contradicted herself.”