The Secret Truth of Time: A Time Travel / Supernatural Suspense Novel

by C. M. Murphy

  "His name is Doug, and yes. He just went to park the car."

  "I'll go and get us seats," Win said and headed inside.

  It dawned on her that she was really going to do this. Her stomach roiled with fear, but she didn't know why she was afraid.

  "Alma, is that you?" someone asked from behind her.

  She turned and saw Haniel. His shoulders looked broader than she remembered.

  "I thought it was you," he said, walking up to her all smiles and giving her shoulder a slight pat hello. Alma's heart pounded from the brief contact and his proximity. "Are you here for the lecture? I didn't expect you to go in for stuff like this."

  "I'm here with my aunt. I don't know much about it," Alma said, flustered.

  "I read the book, and it's great. No doubt the talk will be good, too. Listen," he said, looking around. "I have to run to the phone booth and make a call, but you're going to be around after, right?"

  "Sure," she said.

  "Cool," he said. "I wanted to ask you something. So you can't leave without talking to me, all right?"

  "Sure," she said, trying to act cool.

  "Promise?" he asked.

  "Promise."

  He nodded and winked and then strode down the sidewalk. Alma caught herself watching him walk away.

  "Who's that?" Doug asked, joining her on the sidewalk.

  "Haniel from the other day," Alma answered as they both stared after him.

  "Did you talk to him?" Doug asked.

  "I think we have to go in. It's seven," Alma said, heading for the door to the bookstore.

  Doug followed her. The store was crowded, so he whispered into her ear, "You are not going to keep me in the dark!"

  Alma spotted Win and walked over to her. Doug followed. "Don't think I won't hound you during the lecture."

  "Hi Doug. You have a boyfriend yet?" Tita Win Win asked. She always asked that.

  "No," Doug answered. "How about you?"

  Win laughed. They had this same exchange every time they met. "I'm too old."

  "You can't be a day over twenty-nine," Doug said, changing his script just slightly. He usually just protested that she looked "lovely" or "I don't think so."

  Tita Win shook her head and laughed her quiet laugh. Win's eyes would water when she laughed hard. She grabbed a bargain-brand tissue out of her faux designer purse—both just as good as the real thing—to dab away her happy tears.

  Alma took the seat next to her aunt. She caught herself wondering if her mother's eyes watered when she laughed as well.

  Doug sat next to her. "Tell me what the cute guy said to you, or I'll ask you about it louder so your aunt hears."

  Alma knew that Tita Win would pester her with questions as much as Doug. "He just said that he wanted to ask me something after."

  Doug beamed. "He's going to ask you out!"

  Alma's face heated with embarrassment. She'd hoped that was the question that Haniel had for her.

  "Here she comes. The one who knew your mom," Tita Win Win said.

  Alma looked to the front of the room and saw the woman from the shoe repair place, the one that made her faint. Alma's hands trembled and sweat rolled down her neck. She didn't know why, but she wanted to run out of the bookstore and never look back.

  Chapter Six

  Alma forced herself to stay seated.

  Professor Cassidy thanked everyone for attending and introduced herself with a dizzying array of academic credentials. As she launched into her spiel about her book, The Modern Relevance of Ancient Mystics, she spotted Alma in the second to last row.

  Stunned at seeing Alma, Cassidy stopped speaking mid-sentence.

  Their eyes locked.

  Cassidy sensed from the young woman's expression and tight shoulders that she hadn't expected to see Cassidy here.

  Cassidy continued, "But you can read the book to hear my views on why past knowledge is so vital to us today. What I want to talk about here is a hypothesis that a friend of mine advocates that cuts to the core of how we think about life, death, and even how we perceive reality. I want to talk to you tonight about Dr. Leonardo Upton's hypothesis of The Infinite Truth."

  Tita Win Win's eyes widened as she turned to Alma and said in a hushed whisper, "Eternidad Paagiha!"

  Alma guessed her aunt was speaking in Visayan and gave Win Win a questioning look. Her aunt pointed with her lips, a Filipino gesture that Tita Win didn't use often.

  Alma knew it meant to pay attention to the lady. Alma's stomach tightened so much it was hard to sit up straight. She turned back to Cassidy and focused on her speech.

  "Dr. Upton hypothesized that reality was infinite and not bound by time or space. His theory is that as we evolve lifetime after lifetime, we develop a greater awareness of the infinite. This manifests itself in a myriad of ways. Sometimes children and even adults remember past lives. Some have visions of the future, and some may evolve to the point where they can alter our limited perception of reality."

  "She means psychics and healers like me and your mom," Win whispered to Alma.

  Cassidy continued to speak for another fifteen minutes and then opened up the talk for questions, hoping that Alma would raise her hand. Cassidy could see she had the young woman's attention, but although several hands shot up, none belonged to Alma.

  Hoping to get an intriguing question, Cassidy called upon the distinguished bald Mexican with a professorial demeanor in the front row. "My question is what is this greater truth The Infinite Truth purports to be revealed?"

  Cassidy smiled. "That's what we'd all like to know," she began, and her frank answer garnered a laugh from the small crowd of thirty. "But on the way to the greater truth, Dr. Upton believed that glimpses of it were reflected in the eternal nature of the souls via reincarnation and those who could remember their past lives, such as the Dalai Lama and other lamas, healers such as Jesus, and moments of enlightenment purported by spiritual leaders throughout time."

  "So no big deal then," the man joked.

  Cassidy laughed. She thought she spotted a smile from Alma. She needed to get her to stay so they could talk afterward. Cassidy decided to take only a few more questions and wrap it up.

  A woman in a flowing tie-dye dress and way too much turquoise jewelry jangled her spangle-clad hand in an overeager manner with hopes of being chosen. Cassidy had met her type before and called on the woman, hoping to stave off her wanting to talk afterward.

  "I'm a big fan, and I just have to say how glad I am that someone of your education would validate the existence of those among us with psychic abilities," the woman said, pausing to put her hand on her chest. "It's just so hard."

  Not one person in the crowd, except the woman herself, believed she was psychic. And she wasn't.

  After a few more minutes of bragging, the woman got to her question. "Do you have any personal experiences with meeting psychics or any of the people you've mentioned?"

  Cassidy's annoyance with the faux psychic lady dissolved upon hearing the rest of her question. It gave her the perfect opportunity to get Alma's attention.

  "Only once. I met a woman named Bernadette who was a gifted psychic, and her sister, Winifred, a gifted healer. Bernie not only predicted her own death, but she also predicted the fact that I would meet her daughter Alma twenty years later."

  Win elbowed Alma and whispered, "See? I told you she'd know."

  The crowd gasped, but Cassidy paid them no attention. Her focus homed in Alma, and as a result the crowd turned to look at her.

  Alma wanted to run, but the stares from the audience froze her in place. The self-proclaimed psychic lady in particular glared daggers at Alma.

  Cassidy realized she'd made a mistake and drawn undue attention to Alma. She needed to distract the audience. "And of course there are those who remember past lives. I met one man who could recall unknown facts about Leonardo da Vinci that were later corroborated by documents discovered and translated two decades later."

  The mention of ce
lebrity and an equally salacious topic such as reincarnation returned the audience's attention to Cassidy. Wanting to keep their attention so as not to scare away Alma, she continued, "And I personally believe that most of the human race has lived before. Although, I do not preclude the possibility of new souls."

  "Can you regress people to past lives?" a woman in the second row asked.

  Technically, during an Awakening, Cassidy did something similar to a past-life regression, but she knew that the woman was talking about a practice utilized by a charlatan, who claimed to "regress" people by hypnosis.

  "While I don't preclude the possibility that some people might be able to remember past lives via hypnosis, it's my personal opinion that many of those hosting seminars claiming to regress people in groups may not be providing a genuine service."

  Sensing that didn't go over well with most of the audience, Cassidy added, "Many times children naturally remember past lives. Sometimes as imaginary friends or stories, and then as they grow older and conform to societal standards, they forget."

  Cassidy glanced in Alma's direction, but was careful not to stare like before. She couldn't tell if her words resonated with the young woman.

  Professor Cassidy thanked the crowd for coming, but before she could make her way over to Alma, the bookstore owner asked her a question.

  Alma got up, hurried to the door, and breathed a sigh of relief when she hit the sidewalk. She hadn't even waited for Doug and Tita Win Win. Doug caught up with her, but he gave Alma a moment to breathe. Like a true best friend, he knew when not to talk.

  "You don't want to talk to the lady," Win said to Alma when she joined them on the sidewalk.

  Alma wanted to leave, but she also didn't want to miss Haniel. She didn't know how to justify staying on the sidewalk and not talking to the professor.

  "Maybe I can talk to her for a minute for you," Win suggested.

  Alma thought that would be a great way to get rid of Tita Win so she could talk to Haniel alone.

  "Okay," Alma said.

  Win smiled and went back inside.

  "Is that how you know which stuff is the good stuff to buy?" Doug asked Alma.

  She didn't know what he was talking about, and her expression reflected her confusion.

  "When we mine for gold, you've never been fooled. You automatically know when you look at something if it's the real deal. Is it like a past life thing?"

  Alma hadn't considered that particular angle on her antique collecting. Her thoughts had traveled to all the daydreams that the antiques inspired. Before she could answer, she was interrupted by a hand on her shoulder.

  Alma yelped in surprise and whirled around to see who it was. Of course, it was Haniel. Alma's cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

  "Didn't mean to scare you," he said, looking concerned.

  "I wasn't," she stopped. She couldn't say she wasn't startled. That was obvious. "It's fine."

  "Hi! Remember me?" Doug said, stepping closer to Haniel in a flirtatious way. Alma wanted to kill him.

  "Hey man, how's it going?" Haniel said, not at all flustered by Doug's flirtation.

  "Good," Doug said, stepping back. He shot Alma a look that said he was impressed that Haniel had handled his teasing so well. "I'll go get the car while you two talk."

  "Cool," Alma said, hiding how excited she was to be alone with Haniel.

  "The talk was good, wasn't it?" Haniel asked.

  "I didn't see you in there," Alma said.

  "I stood in the back."

  "Cool," Alma said, and then she realized she'd already said that, but tried not to look awkward.

  "I have tomorrow night off," he said, locking eyes with her and moving a little closer.

  His light blue eyes mesmerized Alma, and she could have easily squealed with excitement at what she hoped was happening. Instead, she just raised her eyebrows and tried to act nonchalant.

  "I was thinking maybe I could take you somewhere. Dinner? A movie? Both?" He stepped even closer, and his arm touched hers for a brief second. The air between them heated with excitement.

  Alma forced herself not to smile too wide. He liked her, and she didn't want to blow it by being too eager or acting like a dorky girl who had never been asked out on a date before, which is what she was. "Sounds good," Alma said.

  "Like seven then?" he said.

  "Sounds good," Alma said, repeating herself for the second time. Words were hard to come by.

  He reached into his back pocket and grabbed a slip of paper. It looked like the back of receipt. "You got a pen?"

  "Yeah," Alma said, scrambling for the zipper to her purse and digging out a pen from the bottom. He wanted her number!

  He held out his left hand with the paper flattened in the palm. "Write your number down so I can call and find out where to pick you up."

  Alma lowered her pen onto the receipt, careful not to press too hard to punch a hole, and wrote her number. She admired his strong hand and pretended that it was not big deal that they were standing so close, and she was touching him. But the truth was this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her with a boy, and that included making out and second base-type stuff.

  "I'll call you tomorrow," he said with a wink and then walked away.

  Alma was so caught up in thoughts of her first big date she didn't realize that Tita Win Win was heading over to her with Professor Cassidy.

  As Win and Cassidy approached, the professor marveled at how much Alma looked so much like her mother. She was just a few inches taller with lighter skin and a tad longer nose. But their expressions and the shapes of their faces and eyes were so similar.

  Alma turned and spotted Cassidy just as they were a few steps away.

  Cassidy waved and said, "Hello again!" trying to keep her tone light and friendly.

  Alma was startled to see Cassidy, but there was no time to dart away. Why was she afraid of this woman? She seemed nice in person, but—

  "The handshake," Cassidy said. "That freaky falling thing spooked you, didn't it?"

  Cassidy's statement stunned Alma.

  "I didn't know that was going to happen," she continued. "It usually only happens to people like me, not psychics."

  "I'm not psychic," Alma said.

  "Maybe you're like her," Win Win suggested. "You remember any past lives? Like when you were a kid and kept talking to people from the past until you got sick?"

  "No," Alma said. It took a moment for it to register what Tita Win had said about Cassidy and even longer for her to register what her aunt had said about Alma's childhood.

  "This was definitely the same watch your mom had," Cassidy said, motioning to the watch Tita Win was holding. "She showed me the engraving."

  "I can't see it now," Win said, squinting at the watch, "even though you just showed me inside."

  Cassidy bent down to point out the engraving to the much shorter Win Win.

  "Here?" Win asked.

  "No, that's a scratch," Cassidy said. "You'd think it would be dead center, but it's to the left."

  "I can't see without my glasses. Show Alma," Win said, handing Cassidy the watch.

  Cassidy stepped closer to Alma. "You see? It's an infinity symbol engraved on the back." Alma bent down to see, but the dark sidewalk made it difficult. "Here, hold it up to the light," Cassidy said, handing her the watch.

  At that exact moment bright headlights shined on the three of them. Cassidy's mouth dropped open.

  "That's Doug with the car," Alma said.

  Cassidy's open mouth turned into a huge smile. It came true. The bright white light in Bernadette's vision were just headlights from a car! "Your mom, Alma. Your mom predicted this exact moment!"

  Alma didn't know what to think.

  "Here," Cassidy said, taking an old envelope out of her handbag. "Read this letter. Your mother wrote it just before she was murdered. There's a picture in the envelope she wanted you to have. All she wanted in life was to make sure you would be okay."


  Alma heard Cassidy's words, but didn't comprehend much after the word "murder."

  Chapter Seven

  Alma waved goodbye to Doug as he pulled out of her driveway. She'd been able to avoid the discussion about any "psychic powers" by talking about her date with Haniel tomorrow. And she hadn't told Doug about her mother's murder. She wasn't ready to accept that information, let alone talk about it. Guilt swamped Alma's entire sense of self. How could she be talking about a cute boy when she'd just found out her mother had been murdered?

  Alma climbed the wooden stairs up to her apartment. The wood creaked under each step. The familiar sound comforted her. It reminded her of when she first came to live with Tita Win Win and how much of a refuge it had been to have her own space to grieve. Win hadn't pushed her to talk about things, the way her high school friends and therapist had.

  Alma reached the top step. Something feathery swept by her nose and cheek. She stepped back and wiped her face. In the faint yellow light from her door lamp, she saw the web. A spider from one of the nearby trees must've spun it while she was out. Alma brushed off the remaining bits of cobweb and unlocked her door.

  She sat down on her bed and reached for the letter in her purse. Alma had taken the letter, hopped in the car with Doug, and pretended like she'd hadn't heard what Cassidy had said.

  But now, she needed to know. She took out the letter. It was addressed by hand to Ann Cassidy. Alma had never seen her mother's handwriting, and her eyes teared up thinking her mother had touched this very piece of paper. Alma took the letter from the envelope, and a photograph fell into her lap.

  Alma picked it up and stared at the picture of her mother, pregnant and smiling with one hand on her belly, and the other waving hello. She was wearing a yellow dress and a red headband.

  Alma's heart skipped as she looked at the headband more closely. It was the same one she'd watched her put on in the bathroom mirror—unmistakably the same one. She'd dreamed her real mother.

  Tears threatened, but Alma's need to know more compelled her to hold her emotions at bay so she could read the letter her mother wrote to the professor. Alma's eyes gobbled up what her mother had written to the professor.