The Vicarage Bench Anthology

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The Vicarage Bench Anthology Page 4

by Barbour, Mimi


  “I have?” Lucy’s face glowed.

  “Oh, yeah. Hook, line and sinker.”

  Chapter Nine

  Days became weeks, and weeks became a month and then another month before Jake would admit that there was no improvement or change in Jenna’s condition.

  The doctors had tried everything they knew to bring her out of her lifeless condition, but nothing seemed to work. The nurses looked after her very well, while Marnie and Jake took up the slack when the professionals were busy elsewhere. Both of them learnt how to administer physical therapy to work her muscles and how to turn her over, watching for painful bedsores. They policed the nurses and assessed her fluid intake. They spent multiple hours researching the Internet and believed they were authorities on coma. They sang to her and cajoled her to wake up, read to her and threatened her, but nothing worked. She never moved.

  She was easy to love in her condition, looking fragile, swathed in the ruffled gowns Jake bought for her because he knew if she awoke it would matter to her how she looked. His choice of sleeping garments was far from the reality of what Jenna actually slept in, but no one could know that, and so she was dressed up each morning like a doll and petted and cuddled more than she’d ever experienced in her life. Each day Jake prayed she would wake up and throw a colossal hissy-fit about her nails or some such foolishness, but each day passed another and there was no change.

  In the off hours when they weren’t at the hospital with Jenna, Jake had taken to sitting on the bench where it all happened, where he felt Jenna’s spirit might still be hovering, lost and trying to find its way home.

  A special delivery van approached one afternoon and the driver carried a parcel to him with his name on it and the address to the vicarage.

  “Can you tell me where I might find Jake Dadson?”

  “You’ve found him. I’m Jake Dadson.” He signed for the small parcel and felt a quiver of excitement. Nestled inside was an old tape like those used in the sixties. He recalled an old recorder his father had hung onto—he was a packrat and had kept everything he’d ever owned. Jake turned the tape over and noticed a small envelope inside the wrapper. He didn’t recognize the handwriting or the name, Lucy McGillicuddy, but he knew the return address street. It was only a few blocks away from the vicarage. He opened the envelope and on the single sheet was a message that had him jumping up like a man shot from a cannon, all the while yelling for Marnie.

  “Where the hell are you? You have to see this!”

  “I’m coming. For heaven’s sake, calm down.”

  She read the note and plunked down on the nearest chair, incredulity stamped all over her features. “What does it mean?”

  The one sentence was self-explanatory, as far as he was concerned. “What do you mean, what does it mean?” Jake stammered. “It says Jenna wants you to listen to the tape and follow its instructions and Please Believe. It’s what we’ll do just as soon as I can find a recorder.”

  By the end of the day they had run down an old reel-to-reel that would fit the tape, and they settled down to listen to the scratchy voice. By the date on the package wrapping they were able to ascertain that the tape was forty-three years old, and that alone boggled their minds.

  The voice wasn’t precisely Jenna but the words certainly were.

  “Hi, guys, it’s me. I promise—it really is. I don’t have too much time here, so don’t mess around questioning everything I’m about to tell you, especially you, Jake, baby. You’re still there with me, I know it. I’m your meal ticket, right? And you wouldn’t give that up easily.”

  Jake caught his breath as he heard Jenna’s customary snippy comeback she used regularly to upset him.

  “Marnie, I’m staking my life, literally, that you’re there with him. I need you both to do me a big favor. I’ve been transported somehow to the year 1963, same day, same time as you but just forty-three years earlier. Don’t expect me to tell you how this happened—I don’t know. I only know my spirit—brain, mind, whatever—left my body and now resides in Lucy McGillicuddy’s body, and I want to come home!”

  The last part was wailed in a voice breaking with frustration.

  “If a couple called Lucy McGillicuddy and John Norman haven’t contacted you before you receive this tape, then something has happened to them. Thank goodness Lucy was adamant that we put this parcel together as a backup. We arranged for the bank to send it on so you would receive it today.

  John Norman, my doctor, along with my shrink, Dr. Andrews, have come up with this plan, which I hope will work.

  When I was transported, I had just come from the vicarage to sit on my favorite bench, the one in front of the place, by the road. I stopped to smell the roses growing along the trellis behind the bench. Marnie, you must remember. I pricked my finger and sat down on the bench to pull out the thorn, and that was the last thing I remember.

  In 1963, at the exact same moment, Lucy was behind the same trellis of roses located at the back of the seat of that same bench. She says she pricked her finger on a thorn, felt faint and sat down. I shifted to her time and into her body at that exact moment.

  “Honest, guys, it’s the truth. We have no explanation other than that there must be some kind of spell on the rose thorns, or the bench is cursed, or something like that, but we don’t know for sure. We’ve decided that a re-enactment would be worth a try and so, therefore, you must put my body back on the bench at precisely twelve noon on Saturday, the 14th of October, which is two days from now. Lucy and I will be sitting on this side. Remember, and this is the most important step of all, prick my finger on a rose thorn before I sit down. If they are the same roses as they are in this time period, we might pull it off. If this date doesn’t work for you, we will be at the same time, same place, every Saturday from then on or until you hear from me again.

  “Please don’t fuss and argue over these orders or you’re both fired. Do you hear me? I need you to do this for me. I miss you guys dreadfully!”

  The last was wailed in a distinctly Jenna manner. There were no doubts in the minds of the two mesmerized, open-mouthed statues sitting stiffly forward on the two golden wingback chairs by the fireplace. They were both certain it was Jenna speaking, even if it wasn’t her voice.

  “Oh, my God,” whispered Marnie looking all around her. Her hair stood at attention all over her body.

  “My sentiments exactly. We can’t tell anyone about this tape, Marnie, no one. Do you understand?”

  “Nobody would believe us! We’d be locked up. What are we going to do?”

  “Precisely what she has ordered us to do?” His voice ended the statement with a definite question at the end.

  “So, you tell me, how can we get her here?”

  “They’re so full up at the hospital right now that it’s been broached to me it’s time to move her back home to Seattle. I suggested bringing her here and hiring a nurse to look after her until arrangements could be made, and they jumped at it. Since her dear, sweet, bitch of a mother has been too busy to return after her first extended visit of two days, I’m sure they’d let us deal with moving her ourselves.”

  “That’ll work,” Marnie said reflectively.

  “We’ll have to set up a bedroom as a hospital room, but it can be done easily. We only have two days, so we’ll have to move fast.”

  “Jake, you know I’ll do all I can to help. I’m just flabbergasted. I want to believe, but it’s, it’s so preposterous.”

  “Yes, you’re right. It is preposterous, and crazy, and we’re certifiable for even thinking about doing it.”

  “Right!”

  “Right! So what do you say?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Lucy, quit stuffing food in your mouth. It’s disgusting.”

  “Oh, shush. I’m nervous. Tomorrow is the big day, and John will be so disappointed if his idea fails.”

  “John, John, that’s all I hear from you. What about me?”

  “You�
��re all you think about.”

  “So bite me. At least eat something healthy, not a bucket of strawberry ice cream. Eat an apple. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Oops! That won’t work for you, will it?” Jenna said, trying not to giggle at her own joke.

  “You’re not funny. Anyway, I am healthy. It’s not me rooming in someone else’s body.”

  “My body is perfectly healthy.”

  “Right, so where is it?” Obviously, Lucy was picking up some of Jenna’s less desirable traits. Instantly she felt remorse and in the old Lucy manner tried to make up to her desolate friend. “Don’t worry, Jenna. John is certain your body is lying in a comatose state, and if your compliments about Jake and Marnie are true, I’m more than certain they have taken very good care of it—of you.”

  “Here we go again. You have to bring John’s name into every conversation. I’m sick to death of talking about him.”

  “You’re a mean old cow, you are.”

  Lucy’s middle finger was forced in front of her own face. “Eat me,” growled Jenna.

  “Where do you come up with those disgusting little ditties of yours? Eat me. Bite me. And you say I’m overly concerned with food.”

  The next day Lucy, dressed in a stylish pair of tan slacks and a loose white blouse decorated with flowery embroidery, strolled nervously between John and Dr. Andrews to the bench where it all began. It was a bit early yet, but Jenna and Lucy were restless and bickering like small children—but not out loud.

  “Tell me again, in detail, what you did,” said John, looking at the lovely young woman at his side. She was holding tightly to his hand.

  “I’ve told you,” replied Lucy. “I was sitting on the bench and heard something behind me, and I got up to investigate.”

  Only Lucy could hear the silent snickers from Jenna.

  She continued sheepishly. “I walked as far as the stone wall, and then, seeing there was nothing alarming, I came back. I stumbled and pricked my finger on this vine. I felt faint and barely made it back to the bench. It was then the interaction happened. Jenna came in and I haven’t had any peace since.”

  “Go screw yourself.” Jenna spoke clearly, no pun intended, but it was a witty remark.

  All three of them started laughing at once, and it struck John so funny that when he bent over to catch his breath he stumbled and lost his footing, grabbed for the trellis and missed, pricking his finger on the very thorns they had just been discussing.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I told you it would all work out, Marnie. Let’s get her ready and I’ll wheel her to the bench.”

  Jake and Marnie had brought Jenna back to the vicarage two days before and had set up a routine where the nurse worked a split shift, leaving the middle of the day open for them to be alone with Jenna.

  “We have to prick her finger before we sit her on the bench, don’t forget.”

  “Yes, yes, nag, nag. I’ve got it. Be sure to choose one of her favorite outfits, or we’ll hear about it when she comes through.”

  “I have. It’s the same white jeans outfit she was wearing the day it all happened. I wanted everything to be as similar as possible.”

  “Brilliant!” Jake waltzed her around the room, his face aglow.

  “I don’t know why you’re so happy for the little tart to come back. She’ll ride your ass again, just like she used to, the nasty-tempered cat. I can’t think why we put up with her.”

  “She pays well.”

  “Her one good quality.”

  “She’s smart as a whip.”

  “She has a mean mouth.”

  “True, but she’s lovely when she’s happy.”

  “Right. I remember the moment well.”

  “Oh, stop. You know you’ll be as happy as I will to have our old lives back.”

  “I guess so. I’ll get her ready now. Do you want some time alone with her before we start?”

  “Thank you.” He headed for the bedroom to have one more stolen cuddle before zero hour.

  * * *

  “Here’s where Jenna sat on the bench, the exact spot.” Marnie pointed to the space, a little to the left of centre. Both looked at the ethereal girl bundled up in the wheelchair. She was a pale shadow of the robust Jenna they remembered.

  “First, I’ll wheel her to the rosebush and cut a rose, and then I’ll undo her straps and carry her over to the bench to set her down.” Jake was a mutterer.

  “I can get the rose for you. Pass me the clippers.” Marnie grabbed them and cut a longish stem with multiple roses and very carefully passed it over to Jake.

  Because Jenna was a dead weight, it wasn’t easy to maneuver her alone. While he lowered her onto the bench, he felt her slide. He braced her, stabilizing her with his body on the bench next to her and at the same time stretched his hand out for the rose. An unseen thorn jabbed him and a frustrated cry escaped. His last movement was to clutch her unwieldy body to him as a bewildered expression engulfed his face. His eyes opened wide and stared sightlessly. With a moan he slumped over Jenna, sprawling forward.

  “Oh, my God, not again,” wailed Marnie. As she tried to steady Jake and stop both him and Jenna from falling to the ground, a man’s gnarly, wrinkled hands reached out to help. She felt rather than saw his presence behind her, and was thankful for his assistance.

  Chapter Twelve

  “John, oh, no!” Lucy clasped him to her.

  “You’re mistaken, miss. My name is Jake Dadson.” He pushed away from her and swung his head back and forth. “Where the hell are the two ladies I was with a second ago?” He shook off her clinging hands and went to stand up, but Dr. Andrews restrained him.

  Jake stared at the agitated woman beside him and asked, “Who are you?”

  “Jake, I don’t believe this. What the hell are you doing here?” Jenna had connected that officious tone of voice to its identity immediately.

  “Jenna? Baby, is that you in there?” Jake frantically grabbed Lucy’s shoulders and proceeded to jostle her back and forth.

  “Stop it, you fool! You’re hurting her—me—whatever. Just stop!”

  Jenna, more frustrated than she’d ever felt before, was frothing, and only Lucy’s sensibilities held her back from physically clobbering the weak man in front of them. Thwarted, Jenna receded.

  The ashen quality to his face was the first indication that the new transplant was undergoing some difficulties.

  “John, stop fighting the takeover,” Dr. Andrews yelled.

  John’s strong character was opposing the entrance of someone else into his consciousness, and the stress could create a physical problem, even bring on a heart attack.

  Shudders attacked John’s body until finally he gave over, and his head lolled forward as a strange peacefulness enshrouded him.

  Eventually, he gained back sufficient strength to enable Lucy and Dr. Andrews to coax him back to Lucy’s house, where he sat in a chair as if in a trance.

  Slowly Jake emerged again and became gradually aware of his surroundings. Fascinated, he studied his slender, well-formed hands.

  “May I have a mirror, please?” He gazed into the looking glass for a long time and then said amicably to the strange face looking back at him, “Hello, my name is Jake Dadson, and it seems I’ve intruded into your life.”

  Words answered him, but they reverberated in his mind.

  “My name is John Norman. Since it seems to be my fault you are here, I guess I can’t be too annoyed, but I must say it is uncomfortable sharing my thoughts with someone else.”

  Lucy handed John the cup of sweetened tea that Dr. Andrews had ordered as a shock sponge. She soothingly enquired, “How are you feeling now, my dear?”

  “I’m fine now, Lucy. Don’t worry. We’ll think of something to fix this situation, I promise.” He patted her hands, which had shredded two tissues and were now working on destroying a third.

  Dr. Andrews, deep in thought, sat fidgeting until suddenly he leapt to his feet with a startled exclamation.
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  “I think I may have the answer to our predicament,” he said, “but I need more time to work it out. I’ll be in touch soon.” He let himself out, his face wearing a closed expression.

  Lucy was conspicuously uneasy with the situation, and felt as if John had suddenly become a stranger to her. She mutely beseeched Jenna to come out to talk to Jake, and then she shut down.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” sneered Jenna as she opened up and turned to the astounded fellow watching. “You’ll get used to the voice changing. In fact you’ll be experiencing it firsthand. I can’t believe you and Marnie botched things up. It should have been so simple. What happened?”

  Jake couldn’t get over the switch. From one moment to the next a sweet expression dissolved into dissatisfaction.

  “I don’t know what happened. It was a few minutes till noon, and I was lifting you from your wheelchair when you started to slide and I had to sit down myself to catch you, and—wham! I’m here.”

  “I’m in a wheelchair?”

  “You’re in a coma.”

  “I don’t want to know. Just tell me I’m no different.”

  “You’re a bit thinner, possibly more beautiful, and a hell of a lot easier to get along with.”

  “Thank you, I guess. What will happen now? I was so sure this would work out, and now I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to send another parcel, this time to Marnie.”

  “That worries me. Who will be there to help her? She can’t possibly do it alone, not now with two bodies to look after,” Jake said glumly.

  “You’re right. Who could she enlist that would believe her story enough to give her a hand?”

  “They’d figure she was a nut job and put her on Prozac,” Jake admitted.

  Jenna started to cry and Jake put his arms around her trembling body, holding her tight and wishing he could join her.

 

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