Kaleidoscope

by Chariss K. Walker

  Henry was retired from the railroad, and although he was younger than Patrick was, it was hard to tell them apart.

  Magin had a master’s degree in engineering from the University at Albany, but he worked offshore for Shell Oil. He was hard and lean.

  With our work schedules being what they were, I only saw Magin a couple of times a year, but it was easy to talk when together. When we were younger, our parents had insisted we spent summers together—it had established a bond. He had a tendency to drink too much alcohol on occasion, but Magin was a responsible and hard-working man.

  After Henry and Magin left that night, Patrick and I continued to talk on the deck about the events before Dawn’s death. Even though it was nearly six years ago, the recollection felt surreal. That last Sunday evening after the traditional family dinner, Dawn hugged me especially tight, as if saying goodbye. I thought it odd because I still had another week in town. I laughed good-naturedly and gave her a tight hug in return before heading back to my apartment. That night, she’d died. In a very quiet voice, Patrick explained what happened after I left.

  “Your mother went around the house, tidying things up, putting things away like she always did before we took a trip or vacation. She laid out some clothes for the next day; I never suspected it was her funeral garments. She told me how much she loved me, and how proud she was of you. She kissed me, then lay down on the bed, and went to sleep. She never awakened. She didn’t suffer or show any signs of pain. I was lying next to her on the bed reading a book as I usually did before I turned in. I kissed her again before I turned out the light. She seemed fine. She was warm and breathing normally. The next morning when I awakened, she didn’t. And, that was it. She’d said her ‘goodbyes’ and she was gone,” Patrick said with tears in his eyes.

  “Dad, are you saying that Mother knew she was going to die?” I asked. Patrick snorted, then looked at me and nodded.

  “When did anything ever happen that your mother didn’t know, Mike? She always knew things before they happened. She had a sixth sense or something,” Patrick said, then paused to wipe away a tear. “I don’t know how long I can go on without her, son. Nevertheless, I need you to know that both your mother and I want you to have the brownstone if you want it. It’s paid for and, well, we think you’d feel at home, maybe even comfortable, living here. Take it with our blessings to either live in or sell, but we hope you’ll live here. Your mother told me that time and again. She said you needed to be here; it would give you perspective.”

  Still, even with Dawn’s sixth sense, I wondered if my parents knew I had a gift. Were there any noticeable signs that I was different? If my parents were alive now, would I have the nerve to talk to them about this ability? Something Adom said all those years ago came rushing back: You’ve always been able to ‘see’ things before they happen. I suspect that this gift has enabled you to excel and to pass by others who would contend for the same positions.

  Was it true? Did I inherit this trait from my mother?

  If Adom was correct, then perhaps so was Nelson. They’d both insisted that I had the ability my entire life even though I couldn’t recall it. They also suggested that I’d seen personal images, but as far as I knew, the kaleidoscope had only shown the distant future. Neither Adom nor Nelson believed that.

  Looking back over my life, perhaps both men were onto something. Maybe, I simply knew things. Like my mother, maybe I had a sixth sense. It was true that I knew I’d attend Columbia before ever receiving the acceptance letter. I’d known GMS would offer me the job after the first interview.

  What happened to make me deny the gift? When did I stop using the ability in that way? If I can trust what Nelson said, then it happened during the first seven-year period of my employment with GMS. It happened sometime before I met Adom, but why would I stop using it? Seven years later, Adom tapped my forehead causing the gift to react wildly and violently.

  Why?

  I put the journal back in the safe and answered the door. Joe’s technical crew had been at the process for about an hour when one of the techies called him. He arrived shortly after the phone call and spoke in private to the technician. Joe was shaking his head in disbelief and confusion.

  “Mike, so far my guys have discovered spyware on both your computers. It appears that someone has tracked your IP address for a while. They’ve seen every search you’ve made, every web page you’ve visited, and every email you’ve sent,” Joe said.

  I felt more certain than ever that this was about the images and didn’t concern Casey at all. Tracking my online activity allowed someone access to everything I knew about each kaleidoscope image researched. It was clearly laid out for them and it had to be the information they were after all along.

  “Mike, you have to know more than you’re telling me. This is sophisticated espionage going on right here in your home, right under your nose. Your phone was tapped too. You need to level with me!” Joe thundered. The techies continued to look at my laptop, PDA and cell phone while Joe expressed his disbelief. They were into their work, but the looks passing between them indicated they agreed with Joe. Something didn’t add up.

  “Joe, honest to goodness,” I protested feeling terrible that I couldn’t level with him, “I don’t know what this is about. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

  The work was done and the crew gathered up their equipment to leave. I felt like crap lying to Joe, but I didn’t think I had any other options. Joe was the last to leave.

  “Mike, if you ever need to confide in me as a friend, I can take off the FBI hat—for a friend. In the meantime, we’ll keep looking into this and see if we can get some better answers. They’ve left a footprint, everyone does, but it’ll take a little more time to find it.”

  Locked in silence, I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say or where to begin. I wanted to level with Joe, but my mind was spinning with so many questions and internal dialogue that I appeared flabbergasted.

  “Do you hear me, Mike?” Joe asked, his voice taking on a stronger tone, like he was talking to a child who wasn’t paying attention. My body was tense and erect; my eyes stared into the distance, but I heard Joe and gave a short nod in response.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next day, GMS requested that I return to work. I was needed in Roussillon, France as soon as I could get there. Jeffrey Tyson, the geologist I would replace in three weeks, had a family emergency and had already left the jobsite. Even though it was a complete surprise, I agreed to make the switch. It was standard practice for GMS to send choice of flights to my PDA. It seemed odd that the request came at this particular time and just as I was getting close to some answers. It didn’t feel right. Nothing had felt right since I found out that my home was bugged.

  Who’s pulling the strings on this?

  After I agreed to accept the assignment, I called Nelson to let him know I was headed to Roussillon on the next flight out. The answering service took the message. Next, I called Casey, but got her voicemail too. I left a message that I was called to France for work and I hoped to see her in a few weeks. After a quick trip to the gym, I packed a carry-on with some travel clothes and a Dopp kit. Then, I called Joe to give him an update. Joe repeated what he’d said earlier, “Mike, if you need someone to talk to, I can take off the FBI hat for a friend. Remember that.”

  Air France 9 left JFK at eleven-twenty and arrived at Charles de Gaulle in Paris around noon the next day. GMS arranged to fly me to the jobsite from there and were on standby. When I got to JFK, the first thing I saw beyond the ticket counter was a pair of beautiful legs holding a very large sign with black lettering that read “MIKE LEWIS.”

  I walked towards the poster, curiosity getting the better of me, and saw that it was Casey behind the sign. She laughed, threw an arm around me, and let the poster slide to the floor, still holding it with her other hand. I was stunned because the last I’d heard she was in San Francisco. Now, it seemed implausible. How the hell had she g
otten to New York so quickly when I’d only left a message a few hours ago? It was disturbing to say the least.

  “Casey? I thought you were in San Francisco. What are you doing here?”

  “I got your message, darling, and I had to come see you off.” Her voice sounded a little higher than usual as she rushed on. “Father is sending me to Marseille on business and I was dreading it so. Then, I got your message about your trip to Roussillon and I couldn’t believe my luck! It’s only an hour and a half by car and we’ll be able to spend some time together there. Isn’t that marvelous news, darling?”

  I stiffened slightly. I hadn’t told Casey that the job was in Roussillon. My voice message had only told her I was called to work in France. Damn it! After all Joe’s hard work, someone was still spying. How did Casey find out? Did she lie about the trip to San Francisco? Even with everything I knew, I knew nothing for sure. I only had suspicions and this unexpected send off by Casey.

  “Isn’t that marvelous news, darling?” Casey insistently drew my attention back to her as she shook my arm.

  “Yes, Casey, what an unexpected surprise,” I agreed as I smiled and nodded.

  As ominous as it sounded, this gift was paranormal, and for the first time in fifteen years, I was able to accept rather than shun it. It couldn’t be explained with science, but it could be tested and measured. My stomach clenched with the reality and understanding.

  I researched companies that were particularly interested in paranormal abilities. One stood out—The Rodante Group out of San Francisco. There were others, but few had the unlimited resources or reach that they had. Their logo was the all-seeing eye, like on the back of the US dollar bill. I’d seen that somewhere else recently and racked my brain trying to remember. Was it on the van that screeched to the curb that night?

  Is Casey connected to this company? Is it coincidence that she frequently travels to San Francisco? Was everything she said a damn lie?

  My flight landed in Paris ahead of schedule, but it didn’t affect the connecting flight to Roussillon. The company had a private jet waiting. A HELO was transportation to the actual jobsite. Major corporations offer a lot of perks to their employees and GMS was no exception. With offices around the world, they made the lives of their employees an easy transition from home to work.

  A lot had changed during the twenty-one years of my employment. In the early days, the crews had actually roughed it with sleeping bags in tents. We’d waited for supplies to be flown in. Now, we stayed in floored Safari tents with generated electricity and heated showers on the jobsites. On the weekends, we stayed in nice hotels at the nearest town or city that could accommodate the entire group.

  Tuesday through Friday was uneventful. It went by smoothly and without any problems. Work was work, and I enjoyed getting lost in the daily activities. I found a gym in Roussillon that sold visitor passes with full privileges, and each night I rode into town with Big John, the foreman.

  Casey called Friday afternoon. She was already in Marseille and anxious to see me. I agreed to drive over Saturday morning. I arranged for Auto Europe in Vienne to deliver an Audi A4 to the hotel in Roussillon on Friday evening.

  Marseille is a beautiful city and Casey is a beautiful woman. Even though I was suspicious, how could I turn down such an appealing combination? I needed to find the truth. I needed to know Casey’s involvement. In the past, I’d either willingly put off confronting her or my plans were sidetracked. That rankled me. Interrogating Casey was a way to take back control from those who would take it from me. Even as I rationalized, I knew that’s what I was doing. My attraction to her was too powerful. My desire for her compromised my judgment.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next morning, I drove the hour-and-a-half scenic route to Marseille. I’d made tentative plans to spend the remainder of the weekend with her, but I was also determined to find out what she knew. On the other hand, I looked forward to holding her in my arms again. As conflicted as that sounded even to me, it was the truth and, during the drive, I thought of nothing else.

  Casey was staying at the App-Arte Marseille Vieux Port, a stylish five-star hotel. It was a lovely, old hotel in the city center with views of the port from the balcony of every room. But the real view was Casey. Dressed in a red v-neck dress that swirled about her in the ocean breeze, she was even lovelier than I remembered. The scarlet chiffon was in stark contrast to the muted ivories and various shades of white in the well-appointed lobby. It was why she’d worn the dress; she intended to make a lasting impression. Her arms, opened wide in greeting, beckoned. She held a particularly lusty gaze in her startling blue eyes. My pulse quickened. Even though ordinarily good common sense had warned against it, I knew why I’d come here.

  We kissed cheeks lightly in greeting and Casey took my hand, leading me towards the lounge for a light lunch of the local fare. We were served fresh clams in a fine white wine and clarified butter glaze. There was also newly-baked crusty bread with a delicate dipping sauce made from freshly-pressed olive oil and spicy herbs. A bottle of white wine from Southern France set the leisurely pace of the meal. It was delicious, and Casey often licked the buttery-glaze off her fingers in a tantalizing way meant to make my heart skip a beat.

  It did.

  As I watched her, I realized Casey was in control; this was her element and she’d carefully planned every detail so far, including her entrance in the red dress. I relaxed, as much as anyone could when unsure of another person’s agenda, and enjoyed the view the deep neckline allowed of her cleavage. After lunch was complete, Casey led the way upstairs to a suite of rooms she’d rented for her stay. She first gave a tour of the posh apartment, and then wrapped her slender arms around my neck, pulling my face to hers. As I closed my eyes for the kiss, something different happened.

  The kaleidoscope showed a fragmented vision of me switching wine glasses with Casey. It was just a glimpse, but it surprised me so much that I stiffened and briefly pulled my lips away from hers. Casey laughed and stood on tiptoes to kiss me once more, but when I closed my eyes for a second time, the vision repeated itself, revealing that I did indeed switch wine glasses with Casey. Ordinarily, this was something I’d never do.

  The vision was stunning and I was caught completely by surprise. I’d never before seen anything personal in the images. The visions had always shown some distant future event, some place or thing with which I had no connection. This image wasn’t distant—it was today, in this very room.

  What can it mean?

  I compartmentalized the images as my lips returned Casey’s kisses. Eventually, we were in the king-size bed involved in the passionate lovemaking of two people who knew each other very well by kindred spirit and appetite. She liked to make love in every position possible, but she preferred that I enter her from behind. It was my preferred position too because it limited the depth of access. Full penetration from a frontal position could be a problem for some women.

  Casey liked the position because she could use her thighs to squeeze my cock while her vaginal walls contracted in full orgasm. She’d confided that it was like the icing on the cake, delicious, and it sent her straight into the next orgasm. Now, I watched her have multiple orgasms, multiple times, before I also reached the edge of the cliff and slid over it with her.

  This was the reason I couldn’t deny Casey in the past and why I’d traveled here today. She was a rare find when it came to the intimate and passionate side of relationships. This had been lacking and long overdue in my experiences. To put it simply, I couldn’t get enough of it, or Casey, and I was willing to take unnecessary risks to get all I could of both. I was like a starved child in a candy store.

  It was late afternoon when we’d recovered enough to start the small chitchat that always followed lovemaking. During these times, Casey shared the small details of our sexual experiences, telling me what she liked most and how it felt. With our legs intertwined, Casey sex-talked for a while.

  Then, the conversation tur
ned casual, nothing too invasive. She talked about the trip and inquired about the jobsite. After a while, Casey disentangled herself from the bed linens and me.

  “I’m famished, darling, and I think I’ll pour us some wine. Slip on some pants and I’ll call for room service. We wouldn’t want to shock the wait staff,” she said and then giggled as her eyes appreciatively raked my naked body. I admired her backside as she walked nude to the bar on the far wall of the apartment. She procured a wine opener and two glasses. While Casey busied herself with the wine, I simply enjoyed the view of her slender, well-shaped body.

  “Do you want some help with that,” I asked.

  “No, darling, I can manage,” Casey replied. “Get some clothes on and let’s drink this on the deck.”

  She moved from one side of the bar to the other and I turned away to pull on my slacks. In a few moments, she brought the two glasses forward. She sat one on the table next to her side of the bed and handed me the other one.

  “I missed you, Mike,” she whispered as she turned and headed towards the bathroom.

  There it was again—Casey’s rare use of my name. Even though I didn’t know the reason behind the action, that one word let me know I had to do what the vision had shown me doing. I couldn’t explain why I felt an urgency to follow the leading; I only knew that I had to do it. I pushed the self-doubt away and then reached across the bed and picked up the wine glass that Casey had intended as hers. I replaced it with the one meant for me exactly as I’d seen in the vision.

  After the switch, I lit a cigarette, and took the wine glass onto the balcony with me. The view of the port was stunning. The thought of wine didn’t appeal to me now… I sat the glass on the patio table without tasting it. The warm ocean breeze was sobering as I considered what I’d done. When Casey returned from the bathroom, she took several large sips of wine from the switched glass.