A Journey of Souls

by Michael McKinney

  “Could you dry these pots off for me honey?” she hears her mother ask. Louise sees no show of surprise or greeting in her mother’s face and all seems routine and completely normal. With a profound, almost mystical contentment, Louise finishes drying the last of the cooking pots and hears her mother say, “There, now we're ready for you when you come back for dinner tomorrow. Your father had to work late today but he'll be here tomorrow when we eat together.”

  Hearing her mother speak these puzzling words leaves Louise momentarily perplexed. Then she hears a soft knock on the kitchen screen door.

  “That's our friend Brianna,” she hears her mother say.

  Louise watches as her mother dries her hands and walks over to open the door.

  “Hi Brianna, come in.”

  “Hi Carol, thank you.”

  Hearing the woman named Brianna address her mother by name and embrace her warmly, somehow affirms the presence of something mysterious and benign. The appearance of this darkly complected woman is immediately compelling for Louise Robinson. An aura of magnetic benevolence seems to surround her. Who could she be? Her gentle, compassionate smile seems to be for Louise only, as if love and mercy incarnate were looking back at her.

  “Hi Louise, your mother and I were expecting you.”

  Without replying Louise hears her mother speak.

  “Honey, I know you have to work tomorrow at the food pantry, but we'll pick you up afterwards and you'll come back for dinner. Then Brianna needs your help with something.”

  “We'll be there with you tomorrow Louise, both of us. There's nothing to be afraid of,” Brianna says. “When I see you again Louise, we'll have work to do.”

  Then suddenly the dream ends and Louise Robinson hears the unpleasant sound of an alarm clock. It's morning again and minutes later she's on her feet and waking to a new day. One hour later Joe rises and enters the kitchen to find Louise alert and ready for her day.

  “Morning,”

  “Morning Joe,”

  “I bet you're well rested. You went to bed early,” he says.

  “Yeah, I was exhausted.”

  “Your sister called last night about 10:30. She got home safe. I told her you were sleeping.”

  “Oh good, thank you. That's nice to know ... I had the strangest dream last night.”

  “What kinda dream?”

  “I was back in my parents’ home where I grew up. It was just as I remembered it. I actually spoke with my mother. Everything was the same, except for a strange woman who was there with my mother. They told me they'd pick me up at work today.”

  “Is that all?”

  “She asked about Barbara.”

  “Who did?”

  “My mother, then she told me I'd be back today to have dinner with her and Dad.”

  “Your parents have been dead for years. I wouldn't read too much into it. You can drive yourself crazy trying to figure out a dream. Speaking of your sister, if you weren't at the soup kitchen so much, you could visit her more often, spend more time with her, and me for that matter.

  “I told you Joe. I like working there.”

  “I don't know why.”

  “It gives me a good feeling. I have friends there, people I know.”

  “Then let them come here and visit you.”

  “Most of them don't have cars. They don't drive.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “People I know at the food pantry.”

  “You mean homeless people?” Joe asks.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you were talking about staff and co-workers. Are you kidding? Why would you wanna be friends with people who are essentially destitute? I have nothing against them, but —”

  “But what?” Louise asks

  “These people go there because they can't even feed themselves. Isn't that right?”

  “Of course, you don't show up at a soup kitchen unless you're hungry.”

  “Well, even if you weren't there, they'd still get fed. Beyond that, what can you possibly do for these people? They live their lives in a permanent state of emergency. Realistically, what can you do for them?”

  “I talk to them. I listen to what they have to say. Sometimes they ask for advice.”

  “Really? So now you're a counselor to the destitute?”

  “Sometimes, I'm only gone three days a week for a total of fifteen hours. The rest of the time, I'm usually here. What's the big deal?” Louise asks.

  “I'd like you to be here all the time.”

  “Having friends outside the home is normal, Joe.”

  “I think most people would say you're wasting your time.”

  “My sister doesn't think so. She said she might start volunteering somewhere herself.”

  “Oh come on Louise. You can't make that comparison. She lives in a different world.”

  “Really? How so? We were both on planet earth the last time I checked.”

  “She's a corporate attorney with international clients. She's paid a fortune for her legal advice. I'd say that's a lot different from giving some derelict advice on where he can flop for the night.”

  Louise pauses before stating, “Actually, they're probably not that different.”

  “Okay, sure, whatever.”

  “You don't see the similarities?”

  “No I don't. How are they similar?”

  “Well, people who talk to my sister are looking for a solution to a problem. I talk to people with problems all the time who need solutions. People who talk to my sister are trying to avoid being harmed in some way, just like a lot of the people I talk to.”

  “Here's the difference, the big difference Louise, people who talk to your sister pay for her advice and always take it. The people you talk to don't act on your advice. They just want some attention.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Come on. Do you really think these people take you seriously?”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “No, they don't. You're dreaming.”

  “They do listen to me.”

  “Don't be naïve. I hate to break the news to you, but the only place your advice will ever be taken is in dreamland. In dreamland, okay? I'm gonna take a shower.”

  With these few curt, ungentle words, Joe gets up and walks out of the kitchen without looking at his wife. He has no idea he'll never see her alive again.

  Later that morning as Louise is volunteering at the soup kitchen, Regina Cooper back in Beech Grove, south of Indianapolis, is dealing with an immediate problem. She's just received a phone call from Scott Palmer, the loan officer who's handling the foreclosure of her home. He told her he's coming today to show the house to a potential buyer. She sits with her husband, whose slow, simmering anger is palpable, and he asks her, “When did he say he was coming?”

  “Sometime in the afternoon.”

  “I need to stay home.”

  “No Tom, you need to go to work. I'll be fine.”

  “I don't like the idea of him being here when I'm gone.”

  “Look, if it makes you feel any better, before he gets here I'll call the sheriff, just to let them know what's happening. So don't worry.”

  “I really don't like that man. What kinda person would march through someone's home with a stranger while a family's still living there? I couldn't do that.”

  “Tom, it's not worth getting into an argument over. It'll only make things worse. Look, do me a favor, just go to work. We'll talk about it later. Show some restraint. This is still our home.”

  “Thank god Angela's in school ... Are you sure you'll be all right?”

  “I'll be fine.”

  “Calling the sheriff's a good idea, and when Palmer gets here, let him know that's what you did.”

  “I will. I promise.”<
br />
  Tom and Regina Cooper are mostly silent for the better part of an hour as they sit together. Then, after waiting until the last possible minute, Tom stands and says goodbye to his wife.

  “Okay, I'll see ya later. Call me if you need me.”

  “I will. I will.”

  As Tom leaves for work, Regina sits and waits, but she's not the only one about to receive an uninvited visitor.

  Joseph Robinson is sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading the newspaper when he hears the doorbell ring. Opening his front door, he's taken aback to see a female police officer.

  “Mr Robinson?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr Robinson, my name is Tina Shaeffer. I'm with the Sheriff's office. I wonder if I could come in for a minute.”

  “Sure, what's this about?”

  Without sitting, she wastes no time in relaying the news she came to deliver.

  “Mr Robinson, there's been an unfortunate occurrence at the food kitchen where your wife was working.”

  “What happened?”

  “A man walked in about 1:30 this afternoon with a gun and started shooting. Unfortunately Louise was one of the three people who was hit, and I'm sorry to say, she did not survive.”

  “What?”

  “I'm very sorry to tell you this.”

  “... Oh my god, no, no I can't ... I can't believe this. I sat with her this morning ... Are you sure it was her?”

  “She was matched with her driver’s license.”

  “No — no. I was with her this morning. I didn't want her to go. That god-damn place. Some low life derelict murdered my wife. Is that what you're telling me?”

  “I'm so sorry to have to tell you this.”

  “Those low life bastards, all of them.”

  “Sir, I have to ask you if there are other family members who need to be informed.”

  “... Just her sister that's all.”

  “We can get in touch with her, if you prefer not to.”

  “No, no I'll tell her. I can't believe this.”

  With a dazed expression of disbelief, Joseph Robinson staggers to a chair and sits. His muted incoherence prompts officer Shaeffer to break the uncomfortable silence.

  “Mr Robinson, we have bereavement counselors who can help you get through this. I'll leave their phone number here if you'd like to talk to them. I urge you, not to try and get through this alone.”

  “Who was it that did this?”

  “He was a forty-two-year-old man who allegedly had a grievance with the people who ran the food pantry. That's as much as I know.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He's been arrested.”

  “Low life scum, I'da killed him with my bare hands if I was there.”

  “If it's any comfort, they said it happened so fast she didn't suffer.”

  “I ... I can't get my head around this.”

  “Do you have friends or relatives that can help you get through this? Maybe you should have someone come over tonight. I think it would help.”

  “What good's that gonna do?”

  “Mr Robinson, I have to ask you, are you gonna be all right?”

  “... Yeah ... I'll be all right.”

  “Are you sure? I could have someone come here and sit with you.”

  “No, no.”

  “Some people react to bad news by doing something they otherwise wouldn't do. Please don't do anything rash, Okay?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “There's one more thing Mr Robinson. You'll be asked to go downtown for a positive identification and to sign some release forms. They'll call you when they're ready for you, probably tomorrow sometime. Are you sure you're gonna be all right?”

  “I'm not sure of anything right now ... Thanks for coming over.”

  “Well, I'll show myself out. Here's the phone number if you want someone to come over and sit with you. We have people trained to do this. It can really make a difference.”

  Hearing no response Officer Shaeffer asks, “how about if I stop by tomorrow to see how you're doing? Would that be all right?”

  “... Sure.”

  “Once again Mr Robinson, I'm so sorry. I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Moments later Joseph Robinson is alone and staring blankly into the empty space in front of him. As the terrible magnitude of his loss seeps into his thoughts, a slow, numbing psychological paralysis comes over him. Louise was the perfect helpmate.

  The thought of never seeing her again is simply too painful to consider. Joseph feels utterly lost and alone. Immersed in a flood of grief-stricken sorrow, he sits in silence and begins to weep. Joseph Robinson will remember this night as the worst might of his entire life. He won't rise from his chair for another seven hours before grief and exhaustion finally yield to the intercession of merciful sleep. Joseph Robinson is now and forever a changed man. The sudden loss of his dear wife Louise is an emotional trauma from which he will never completely recover.

  Though less tragic, the trouble that afflicts Tom and Regina Cooper’s residence is very serious and escalating. Still struggling to find a way to avoid being evicted from their home, they are now grappling with a dilemma that has now become a crisis. After being at work for nine hours, Thomas Cooper is beside himself, galled because Scott Palmer was in his home while he was gone. Resentful and agitated, he and his wife Regina are not in accord as to what they should do next. After waiting for their daughter Angela to go to bed, Regina tries to soften her husband’s unpleasant mood.

  “It wasn't that bad. He wasn't here very long.”

  “I just don't like the idea of him being here when I'm gone.”

  “Don't let it bother you Tom.”

  “It has been bothering me. It's been bothering me all day long. I've made a decision.”

  “What do you mean?” asks Regina.

  “We can't stay here Regina. If we stay here, this guy will make it miserable for us. I just know it.”

  “Where can we go?”

  “For now, we can move in with my uncle.”

  “You mean in Ohio?”

  “Why not?”

  “What about Angela? She's not done with school yet.”

  “She'll make the adjustment.”

  “Oh, just like that, huh? This is the only home she's ever known, and the only neighborhood she's ever lived in.”

  “Look Regina. We don't have a choice. We have to do something.”

  “Fine, let's make sure it's also the smart thing to do.”

  “That's what I'm trying to do.”

  “I think you're overreacting Tom.”

  “No I'm not. I'm being a realist.”

  “You mean you're ready to walk away from the ten years we've lived here, all the time and money we put into this place?”

  “I hate to leave this place as much as you do, but we have a mortgage of seventy-two thousand dollars that we can't pay. We'll just have to start over.”

  “I have a problem with moving to Ohio, Tom.”

  “Please don't make this any harder than it already is.”

  “If we quit this house, there's no coming back. You need to think about this.”

  “You think I haven't? That's all I've been doing. We only have two options; we either leave or stay. To stay we need to come up with seventy-two thousand dollars. How likely is that? That leaves us with only one option. We simply have to leave and the longer we put it off the more difficult it will be. That's how I see it.”

  “It sounds like you've made up your mind.”

  “I have. I'm sorry.”

  After a tense minute of silence Tom gets up and with passive resignation tells Regina, “I'm tired. I'm gonna get some sleep.”

  As their unhappy conversation comes to its close neither Tom nor Regina Cooper are aware t
hat their daughter Angela, has been quietly sitting at the top of the stairs listening to every word. When she hears her father leave the kitchen, she silently slips back into her room.

  Moments later, Regina Cooper is sitting alone pondering her family's dilemma. Moving to a farm in rural Ohio is distinctly unappealing and the thought of pulling her daughter out of school is crossing a line too far, and too final, for her. In her mind, packing everything up and moving to Ohio seems more like panic than strategy. As she quietly sits alone in her kitchen, she tries to make sense of what's happening to her family. The unfortunate combination of Tom losing his well-paying factory job only weeks before Regina became seriously ill has brought them to financial insolvency. It happened more quickly than she would have ever thought possible.

  Recounting the previous six months, Regina Cooper can find no instance, where serious misjudgment or wasteful spending played any role in producing this crisis. Tom and Regina Cooper have always been careful with their money, but their modest savings were no defense against being blindsided by simultaneous financial emergencies. What could they have done? What could any family have done? Regina Cooper stares passively at the floor and wonders what tomorrow will bring.

  Meanwhile, seventeen miles to the north, Charles Beckler is in his pajamas and ready for another night of sleep. He ends his day as he usually does; with a gentle kiss to his wife Connie. After turning out the light he settles in for a night's rest and within minutes is submerged in a mantle of tranquil sleep. Before drifting off, he thinks again of the dream he had last night and wonders if it will return.

  Chapter Ten: Angela's New Friend

  Louise Robinson's dreaming soul awakens, and she finds herself in a place at once both warmly familiar and strangely surreal. She opens her eyes and recognizes the back seat of her parents’ station wagon. The same one that so often used to carry her to and from high school many years ago. Looking out the window, she sees a beautiful deep blue sky with soft billowy white clouds drifting slowly through a warm sunlit afternoon. She sees her mother's profile in the front seat and hears the local AM radio station playing just as it had so long ago. All looks and sounds as it did when she was a schoolgirl. Louise decides this must be a dream.