Sara's Soul

by Deanna Kahler

  “Oh. Is that what Chip told you?” she asked. Sara pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

  “He also said that you’re beautiful, only I think he got that wrong. You’re absolutely stunning.”

  “Well, thank you, sir,” she said, blushing once again.

  “Please call me Dave. Can I get you kids some wine?”

  “Sure,” Sara said.

  “Yes. Wine sounds good,” Chip agreed.

  Dave grabbed a bottle of 2010 Chateau Montelena Estate cabernet sauvignon off of the wine rack in the attached open-concept kitchen. The whole room was decorated in rich cherry wood, with granite countertops and accents and top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances. Dave popped the cork and poured three glasses of wine.

  “So, Sara, do you live around here? Chip didn’t tell me where you’re from.”

  “I live near Mt. Pleasant.”

  “Oh, so you’re close to Chip then.”

  “Not close enough,” Chip teased.

  Sara nudged him with her elbow, and he gave her a wink. “Yes, Chip doesn’t live far from me. We met at Starbucks.”

  “Do you go to CMU, too?” Dave asked, handing them each a glass of wine and taking a sip of his.

  “Yes, I’m studying biology.”

  “Graduate student?”

  “No, undergrad.”

  “Ah, a younger woman. Eh, Chip?”

  Sara nervously downed her wine. “Only by a few years,” Chip said. “Besides, she’s more mature than some women twice her age.”

  “Oh, beautiful and experienced,” Dave said with a wink. “I see why you like this one.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Dad.”

  “This is good wine,” Sara said, quickly changing the subject.

  “Yeah, it’s good stuff,” Dave agreed. “About a hundred fifty a bottle…”

  “Dad has expensive tastes.”

  Sara nodded. No wonder this wine is so good, she thought. She had never had such pricey stuff before.

  Dave scratched his head and took another sip of wine. “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “Age is just a number. I’m happy for you two. Love isn’t always so easy to find. And sometimes when you do find it, it gets away from you. I know that better than anyone.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” Sara said sympathetically.

  “Thank you,” he said. “But it’s okay. That was a long time ago. Her death was a shock to me, but I’ve gotten past that now… I still miss her, but things are different. Besides, she visits me sometimes.”

  “You mean her spirit?” Sara asked.

  “Yes,” he said, laughing. “I never believed in any of that stuff. Thought it was a bunch of bullshit. But when Celeste was alive, her ex-boyfriend died and then started coming around her. At first I thought she was just imagining things. Either that or losing it. I even sent her to a therapist. Turns out the shit was real. Biggest shock of my life.”

  “I never believed in that stuff either,” Sara confessed. “Even though I’m psychic, I’ve always been a skeptic and a scientist when it comes to spirit communication and the afterlife. But so many things have happened that leave me questioning reality.”

  “Well, good for you,” Dave said approvingly. “Science is important. I can totally see where you’re coming from. I always preferred to focus on the facts and what I could see and hear. It’s a fine way to live. You don’t want to be too gullible or run around with your head stuck in the clouds. But science isn’t all there is either. It can’t explain everything, and I’m glad you recognized that. One day a spirit may come knocking on your door, and your whole perception of life will suddenly change.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” Sara said. “It hasn’t happened all these years. Why would it happen now?”

  Chip gave her a frustrated look.

  She continued: “I know your son thinks it’s real, and he’s trying awfully hard to convince me. I just don’t see it.”

  “Maybe you don’t want to see it,” Chip said.

  “That’s not true.”

  “If you believed in spirit communication, you’d have to face the fact that you were wrong. Psychic Sara couldn’t even see the truth when it was staring at her right in the face. You were angry with your mom for abandoning you and then not visiting you, when she was standing right beside you, desperately trying to reach you, all along. That’s a big mistake to own up to. It’s easier just to ignore the evidence and pretend you’re right. Then there’s nothing to feel guilty or regretful about.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “You know I’m right, Sara,” he said. “Open your eyes and stop being so damn stubborn.”

  A warm rush of blood pooled in Sara’s face. Her cheeks felt hot. She couldn’t tell if she was angry, embarrassed, or both. One thing was certain: both Chip and Dave noticed her red cheeks.

  “Come on now, kids. It’s okay to disagree. Lord knows, Celeste and I didn’t see eye to eye on anything,” Dave interjected. “But if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have you, son.”

  Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The once-soft sofa now felt hard against her body. She grabbed her glass of wine off of the cocktail table and swallowed a big gulp. She hated that she and Chip had argued in front of his father, not to mention the fact that it felt odd to know their family secret when Dave himself was oblivious.

  “I’m grateful to have you too, Dad,” Chip said. “And I’m sorry for raising my voice, Sara. I’m just frustrated. I keep trying to help you, and it sometimes feels like I’m butting my head up against a wall.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “How about I have the cook whip us up some lunch? What would you two like—chicken marsala, filet mignon, roasted duck?” Dave offered.

  “Actually, Dad, we were hoping to take you out to lunch,” Chip said.

  “Oh. Okay,” he agreed. “Let’s go somewhere good. Not one of those little mom-and-pop diners.”

  “Any suggestions?” Sara asked.

  “Sangomore’s at the Forest Dunes Golf Club is decent,” Dave replied, licking his lips.

  “Okay, Dad,” Chip said. “Sangomore’s it is.”

  ***

  Sangomore’s was a cozy, but slightly upscale, restaurant with a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace, three-tier candle chandeliers, and a huge wood-trimmed window that overlooked the golf course. The lunch menu was simple: soups, salads, sandwiches, and burgers. Sara felt comfortable there.

  The three chatted about everyday stuff and enjoyed their lunch. Sara found Dave to be intelligent, kind, and very driven. He had a determined air about him, and she could tell he was very success-oriented. He talked about his days in finance and his many accomplishments.

  “But the two very best things in my entire life were my wife, Celeste, and my son,” he said proudly. “They are what motivated me to succeed. I always wanted to give them the best life possible.”

  “And you did, Dad,” Chip said. “But you know we would have had a great life anyway, without all the extras. You know how Mom felt about material possessions. All we ever needed was your love and your time.”

  “But I wanted to give you the world,” he said, his expression turning sad. “I wanted to give her the world. But she belonged with him. She even crossed a bridge to be with him in his realm. I couldn’t compete with a love like that.”

  Sara shivered. “What do you mean by ‘she crossed a bridge’?” she asked.

  “Didn’t Chip tell you about that? How his mother and Connor communicated after his death?”

  “No,” Sara said. “All he said was that Connor’s spirit visited him and his mother. What’s this about a bridge?”

  “The bridge of illumination,” Chip said. “My mother found a way to cross over temporarily to the other side by using a special technique that allowed her to manifest a bridge. I read about it in her journal this morning. Mom thinks it may help you too, Sara.”

  Sara cou
ldn’t believe what she was hearing. A wave of fear ran through her. She was usually a sensible, logical person. But this bridge defied logic. Had Chip’s family all lost touch with reality? Sara was truly lost, and she now knew for certain that no one could save her or alter her course.

  A powerful sense of helplessness overcame her, and she felt so alone, despite being in a room full of people and with the man she loved. Death seized its opportunity to claim her once again, throwing its blanket of darkness over her like a trapper snares an animal in a net.

  Sara felt like she was going to puke. Her head began to pound like the intense beat of a drum. Bridge. Bridge. Bridge. She could her the words in her mind; they pounded in sync with her headache. She became fixated on the word “bridge.” There was something about it that struck a chord with her. A bridge was high up. A bridge was built over water. A bridge was her way out.

  Sara saw herself driving off the edge into the water below. That’s it. The perfect way to make my escape. No one could stop her once her car went over the edge. Then she would finally be free from this messed-up life. Sara’s heart began to pound as she contemplated her next move. Fear coursed through her veins, and the dark, familiar, haunting call of death beckoned her. The noise of voices chattering around her echoed through the room. She felt the pain of fellow diners who had lost loved ones. And then she saw the images of their deaths. One by one, each face in the room had a story to tell. Blood. Hospitals. Car accidents. Gun shots. Stabbings. Cancer. Heart attacks. So much suffering. Sara felt like she was suffocating. Her body began to tremble.

  “Sara, are you okay?” Chip asked.

  “Excuse me,” she said, rising quickly from her seat. “I think I need some air.”

  She bolted for the door. Please make this stop. She held her head in her hands and begged once again for the images, the torment, to go away. She ran away from the building onto the golf course. As she got farther from the restaurant, the buzzing and the images dissipated and were replaced with thoughts of Chip. Kind, gentle, loving Chip. The latest developments with the bridge had sent her into a tizzy. She couldn’t seem to escape death, no matter how hard she tried. A happy ending just isn’t in the cards for me, she thought sadly.

  Sara couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to fall so deeply in love, knowing that the urge to kill herself would never go away. Who was she kidding? Chip couldn’t save her. But still she adored him, depended on him. Deep in her heart, she knew she could never stop loving him. She was powerless, just like she was powerless over death’s clutches. Love was strong, but Sara knew death would win in the end. She had always known that.

  “Sara,” Chip called. “What’s wrong? Why did you run away?”

  Sara hadn’t noticed that he had followed her outside. She turned toward the restaurant and saw the concerned look on his face. He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her. “My life is a mess,” she said sadly.

  “I’m here, Sara,” he said, comforting her. “Please let me help you.”

  “Help me how? By showing me a magic bridge where I can hang out with spirits?” she said sharply. “Get serious, Chip. I suppose you believe in unicorns and little green men, too?”

  He pulled away from her with a hurt look on his face. Sara knew she had gone too far. He stared at her in silence.

  “You’re right, Sara,” he said quietly. “I can’t save you. You have to want to be saved. And you don’t.”

  She watched him as he turned around slowly and walked back into the restaurant, his head lowered in defeat. Her heart ached. She had disappointed him. She had hurt him. That’s the last thing Sara ever wanted to do. She couldn’t believe how upset she felt. She was planning to kill herself, so why did it matter if he was angry? This might be the perfect way to make her escape without him interfering. But strangely Sara didn’t want to kill herself right then. All she wanted to do was run into his arms and tell him how sorry she was. She wanted his forgiveness. She couldn’t handle thinking that she had ruined the day—especially after he had taken the time to plan all those wonderful activities.

  Her love and compassion took over, stopping death cold in its tracks. Sara hurried back into the restaurant. This wasn’t about her, after all. Today was about spending time with the man she loved and meeting his dad. Today was about giving Chip some last precious moments with his father. Today was about enjoying the surprises Chip had so carefully and excitedly planned for the two of them. Sara had screwed up. She had to make things right between them.

  She walked across the restaurant and headed to the table where Chip and Dave still sat finishing their lunches. “There you are,” Dave said. “Chip was worried about you. He was afraid you had another one of your death visions. He told me about them, you know. Are you okay?”

  Sara was anything but okay. Her entire body throbbed. Her heart ached like someone was squeezing it tightly in his hand and at any moment, it might burst. Fatigue threatened to bring her to her knees, and the fog in her head was like a thick smoke, slowly suffocating her. “I’m okay,” she lied. “I had multiple visions. There are a lot of people in this restaurant. And they’re grieving so many dead friends and relatives. I can feel their emotions. So much pain and suffering. So many impending deaths. It was horrible. But thankfully all that is gone now. And I believe I owe you both an apology.”

  “Not necessary,” Dave said.

  Chip sat silently, looking everywhere but at her. She kissed his cheek. “I’m really sorry,” she whispered in his ear.

  “I’m not crazy, Sara,” he said. “If you saw what I saw. If you knew what I knew, you would understand.”

  “Then teach me,” she said. “Help me to see and experience it.”

  Sara knew that anything Chip had to show her would be a welcome distraction.

  “Okay then,” he said. “Tonight. At the campground. I will tell you what I know.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking her seat beside him again. Chip seemed so certain that what he experienced was real. He deserved a chance to make his case. This ought to be interesting, she thought.

  “Sorry to break this party up,” Dave said. “But I’m not feeling so good. I think we should head back to the house.”

  Sara’s heart fluttered. Chip sat up stiff as a poker. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital?” he said with alarm.

  “No, I’m okay. I think it’s just indigestion,” Dave reassured him.

  “But what if it’s not? What if it’s your heart? Really, Dad, I think you should see someone,” Chip urged. “Just in case.”

  “No, Chip,” he insisted. “If it’s my time to go, it’s my time to go. I’ve had a good life. I’m not afraid to die. Just let me be.”

  “Sorry, Dad,” he said. “I don’t mean to be difficult. I just don’t want to lose you.”

  “You know by now you could never lose me, son,” Dave reminded him. “I will come back and haunt your ass.”

  Chip and Dave laughed together. “Is that a promise?” he asked.

  “You bet it is,” he said. “If your mom and her ex-boyfriend can be your guardian angels, then I want to be one, too.”

  Dave clutched his chest. “Oh man, I really need to lie down.”

  ***

  The three drove back to Dave’s house in silence. Sara and Chip knew what was coming. Maybe in his own way, Dave did, too. It still didn’t take away the sadness, the fear, of losing someone. No matter how you looked at it, death was still a devastating and painful loss. All the foresight in the world could never prepare you for the emptiness and grief that followed.

  Chip could feel that his dad was running out of time. He wanted desperately to stop death in its tracks, but he was powerless. Even if he told Dave about Sara’s vision, he knew his father would still refuse to go to the hospital. He was stubborn like that. And he was also lonely. Chip knew his father hoped to join Celeste in the afterlife one day. She may be with Connor, but Dave still longed to spend time with her. He supposed they would be more like friends or sib
lings in the afterlife. There would still be love, but more of a friendly kind rather than a romantic joining of hearts. Chip knew Dave would take whatever he could get, just to be near her again.

  Chip pulled into his father’s driveway and helped him out of the car. “Do you want us to stay with you?” he offered.

  “No, Chip,” he said. “I’ll be fine. Go be with Sara. She needs you more than I do.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Never been more sure of anything in my life,” Dave said with a smile. “You have to take care of that girl. You’re going to marry her one day. I see the way you look at each other. I just know you’re meant to be together. Kind of like…”

  “Mom and Connor?”

  “Yeah, like them,” he said quietly, with a hint of sorrow. “Remember that early morning, son?”

  “Yes, Dad,” he said. “I will never forget it. I remember how much I could feel Mom’s presence. How much love there was in the air. It was so powerful.”

  “I’m going to be with Celeste again one day,” Dave said with a smile. “And I’m gonna tell that wife-stealing angel Connor how lucky he is.”

  “He didn’t steal her, Dad,” Chip said, patting his father on the back. “She was his all along.”

  “I know that now,” he agreed. “It was just so damn hard to accept before she died. It was hard enough knowing they were still in love with each other, but then losing her to a ghost? That was the hardest part.”

  “Well, you handled it pretty well considering.”

  “I’m not a saint, Chip,” he said. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but loving her was not one of them. Even with everything that happened, I wouldn’t change anything. She taught me two things I would have never learned: what love is and what death is. And for that I’m thankful.”

  “Me, too,” Chip agreed.

  “I love you, Chip,” Dave said, as he embraced his son.

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  “And I’m really proud of you, Chip.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  “Now go be with Sara,” he said, motioning with his hand.