Ann ignored her. “So what exactly was all that stuff I saw? It felt like I was really there.”
“You were really there,” said the psychic with a knowing smile. “You were experiencing your life elsewhere along the fourth dimension.”
“How exciting!” said Nina, clapping her hands together. “Did you see your future, darling? Was there a gorgeously hunky man in it? Oh, please tell me there was.”
“It wasn’t my future,” said Ann, frowning. “Or at least if it was, things are about to change a lot around here, and not for the better either. It was… I don’t know… It was like something out of one of those historical documentaries. One with cavemen and all that sort of thing. I don’t see how that could have anything to do with my life.”
“So what was it then?” Nina asked.
Slowly the two women turned to look at the psychic, who was still sitting there with her knowing smile. After a long pause, Ann raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“Yes?” said the psychic, as though she had no idea what they were staring at her for.
Ann sighed. “Come on, then. What was all that prehistoric… stuff I saw?”
“Don’t ask me!” said the psychic with a shrug. “It was your life-stream.”
“So you’re telling me that was some kind of past life or something?” Ann pulled an “I don’t buy it” face. “I don’t buy it,” she said. “How is that supposed to work anyway?”
“How my craft works is not your concern, Ann. All you need to know is that it does work.” The psychic looked at her and placed a wizened hand on Ann’s once again. “Don’t ask me what you saw. Just keep it for when it’s needed.”
“When it’s needed?” Ann wondered if the old woman was being deliberately unhelpful. “What do you mean?”
But the psychic simply sat back in her couch, the knowing smile back on her face. There was a long pause, during which Ann glared at her, until finally Nina broke the awkward silence.
“So that’s that then!” She stood up, flicking her hair out of her face with a flourish. “Come on, darling, let’s go and see if your car’s still there in one piece.”
Without a word, Ann got to her feet and followed Nina out of the room.
~
“Well that was a waste of time!” said Ann crossly. “I knew I shouldn’t have bothered trying to find out about all that spiritual nonsense. I should’ve stuck with the psychical world, which is exactly what I intend to do from now on, bad dreams or not.”
Nina pointed out of her side window. “I think that was your turn, sweetie.”
“Damn!” She thumped the steering wheel. “It’s that wretched woman. She’s messed with my head, Nina. I feel all over the place. Heaven knows what mind-altering drugs she had wafting around in that creepy room of hers. I’m surprised I didn’t see anything even more bizarre, some supposed other life where I’m a dancing, blue pig on ice-skates or something.”
“Sounds like you need cheering up, darling,” said Nina. “And I know just the thing.”
“Really?” Ann raised an eyebrow. “I think I can guess what that will involve…”
“And why not? There’s nothing better than a new man to take your mind off things, and give you a bit of energy.” She slapped her hand down on the dashboard and the glove compartment dropped open, spilling a packet of peppermints into the floor of the car. “Ooh!” she said, picking them up and unwrapping one. “Mints!” Pausing to pop it into her mouth, she continued, “Anyway, sweetie, getting yourself a nice guy is so easy it’s almost embarrassing. You know what I was doing while you were busy hanging out in the Stone Age? I was in the other room subscribing to a video singles service.”
“What?” Ann looked at her friend in astonishment, then quickly had to brake to avoid jumping a red light. “But what about… what’s his name? Steve?”
“You mean Travis.”
“Of course, yes. Travis. What about him? You’ve only just started seeing him and already you’re busy looking for someone else?”
“Come now, darling, you’ve always got to keep on the lookout.” Nina flicked her hair out of her eye again and, as Ann pulled away from the lights, she continued. “So, as I was saying, I subscribed to this service and, within twenty minutes, I met an exceptionally attractive young gentleman, who just happens to be interested in having a big family.”
“Huh,” said Ann, unimpressed. “More like he just happens to be interested in getting you into his bed. These guys would say anything.”
“Well, what he actually said was that it’s his personal goal to reproduce himself as many times as possible with just one woman.”
Ann laughed. “And who says romance is dead?”
~
Having eventually dropped Nina outside her apartment building, Ann began to make her way back home, her head still full of the images she had seen.
What was that exactly, she wondered, some kind of trance or something? Whatever it was, it all felt amazingly real. I remember the sensation of giving birth, of almost dying in the wilderness, of the spear piercing my flesh. She placed a hand on her chest, almost able to feel once again the sharp pain from pointed wood forcing its way into her body. She shuddered. It really was as though I was actually there, as though I was that woman, Mi. The psychic had said that I really had been there, experiencing my life elsewhere in the fourth dimension. But how can that be true? What does this Stone Age vision have to do with me, with real life here in the twenty-first century?
“You appear to have missed your turn again, gorgeous.”
Startled out of her daydream, Ann glanced across at her E-A device, sitting in its holder on the dashboard. Rob waved to her from the screen, the background image showing a brutal landscape full of hairy humanoid figures.
“You should’ve taken a right back there,” he added, helpfully, “if you were hoping to get back to your apartment, that is.”
“Damn it,” said Ann and sighed heavily. “Not again.”
“Sounds like you’ve had an interesting visit, my lady.”
“You heard it all, I suppose?”
“Of course. You didn’t switch me off, remember? Personally, I find the idea of past lives quite fascinating. There has been some excellent research on the subject.”
“Really?” Ann was surprised. “I assumed it was just a load of made-up nonsense to keep people like that so-called psychic in business.”
“Not at all. According to the resources at my disposal, which as you know are vast, there have been numerous accounts of such experiences. For example, there was a man in the nineteen eighties, called Philip Trent, who related his experiences of a past life, in the third century BC, when he was one of the pupils of Archimedes.”
“So?”
“Well, it turned out that his description of the ancient Greek culture and the works of the great polymath were so accurate that only the foremost experts could verify the details, which they did!”
“And was Philip Trent one of the experts himself?” asked Ann, naturally skeptical of such things.
“Not a bit of it,” said Rob, a broad grin spreading across his face. “He was a gas pump operator from Arkansas.”
“Really? So you think there’s something to all this past life, fourth dimension stuff?”
“Sure. But don’t take good old Mister Trent’s word for it. Why not test it out yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, that banner up ahead might be of some interest to you.”
Ann looked up through the windshield and, sure enough, there was a banner stretched across the street. It read, “Chicago Field Museum Feature Exhibition: The Stone Age. Experience the Life of Our Ancestors.”
“I don’t believe it!” said Ann in surprise. “What an amazing coincidence.”
“Coincidence? There are those who would call it grace, my dear. But either way, it’s an opportunity to see if your vision bears any resemblance to the way things really were back then. What have you got to los
e?”
Ann considered her options. She still felt exhausted and drained from her time at the psychic’s, and longed to go back to her apartment and crash out for a few hours. On the other hand, she was almost certain that until she had settled this question about the vision she would not actually be able to sleep.
“Isn’t the Field Museum just up here on the right?”
“It certainly is.”
“Okay,” said Ann decisively. “Let’s go and check it out!”
The Field Museum of Natural History was nothing if not impressive, perched on the shore of Lake Michigan, and dominating its surroundings. Its expansive wings and vast frontage, adorned with Ionic columns and sweeping steps, were all designed to make its visitors feel small, almost insignificant, tiny cogs in the great machine of the universe that the museum sought to reveal. Ann ignored all of this grandeur, however, and made her way quickly up the steps and into the enormous central hall. Without even glancing at the T-Rex towering above her, she followed the signs towards the Stone Age exhibition, her footsteps ringing loudly on the marble floor.
As she entered the gallery, the sight took her breath away. There, in the middle of the hall, surrounded by a glass barrier, was a hill. It was not the hill itself that had caught her eye however, but what was on the hill. It didn’t look like much of anything, really, just a large, dome-like structure covered with animal skins, but Ann recognized it immediately. That’s just like those huts I saw in my trance!
It was so similar that she almost expected someone to burst out of the entrance carrying a steaming pot or a bundle of sticks. As she stared at the hut, Ann felt suddenly strange and had to clutch at a display case behind her to steady herself. Turning to look at what she was holding on to, she found herself faced with a collection of chipped and worn stones. Despite the fact Ann had never really been interested in the Stone Age and knew very little about it beyond the general idea that people used to live in caves and hunt for mammoths, she did not need to look at the info screens to know what these stones were for. She recognized them immediately—spear heads and ax blades and flints used for scraping animal skins. Flints she had used for just that purpose.
Breathing quickly, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, she hurried over to another display.
These pots, she thought, gazing at them in wonder. They’re just like the one Bagra showed me how to make. And these bags are identical to the ones I used to collect water and fruit. The display contained a number of model people, some hairy and like the people of Mi’s tribe, others more like those who lived on the hilltop. But it was their clothes that amazed Ann; the animal skin loincloths and the garments made from handmade fabric. She could almost feel the sensation of wearing them on her own skin.
Suddenly she was sure, as certain as she had ever been about anything, that it really had been her than had used the flints, her that had made the pots and the antelope skin bags, her that had worn these ancient forms of clothing, her that had lived in one of those huts on the hilltop. Ann was Mi. And Mi was Ann. As this certainty struck her, she began to feel dizzy and her body felt as though she was moving in some sort of dream. A cold sweat had broken out on her forehead and when she lifted her hand to wipe it away, she noticed that her skin was deathly pale. Turning to look at her reflection in the glass of a nearby display, she found herself staring into the face of Zo.
She knew it was only a model, but all the same her breath caught in her throat and she staggered backwards, away from the glass, unable to take her eyes off the figure. It wasn’t Zo—not quite. There were no tiger claw marks for starters, and instead of Zo’s menacing look, this face was, if anything, friendly. And yet in its hand it held a spear of sharpened wood. Instinctively her hand went to her chest, to the place where the spear had pierced her heart, which seemed for the moment to have stopped. Her vision blurred and, as she tried to blink her eyes back into focus, she realized that she was falling.
She braced herself to hit the hard gallery floor, but she never made it that far. Instead, strong hands caught her, supporting her weight gently as she was lifted up into someone’s arms. As her sight returned and she could see clearly, Ann found herself gazing up into the insightful eyes of a man. His thoughtful, friendly expression was filled with concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Part Two
LOVE
Chapter Eight
Ann rubbed her eyes and continued to stare up at the man, unable to think of anything to say. Even if she could think of something, she wasn’t sure she was actually capable of speech. The shock of all she had seen had made her quite dazed and confused. The man touched a hand to her forehead and looked concerned.
“Let’s get you something to drink. Steve!” he called out towards the gallery entrance. After a few moments a large security guard wandered in looking as though he had just been woken up. “Ah, Steve. Please could you get this lady a glass of water? She appears to have had a nasty turn.”
As the guard turned to leave, Ann found her voice at last.
“No, no,” she said, trying to push herself up. “I’m quite all right, thank you.” Even as the words left her mouth, her strength gave out and she sank back into the man’s arms.
“You don’t seem that all right,” he said. Just rest a moment. There’s no rush. After you’ve had some water, I’ll make sure you get home safely.”
Ann let herself relax, her head on his chest. “Thank you, er. . .” She looked up at him questioningly.
“Michael,” said the man with a smile. “And you are?”
“Ann.”
“So tell me, Ann. Do you usually throw yourself at men in the museum? Or were you simply overcome with the wonder of our Stone Age exhibition?” Michael gestured expansively at the gallery.
“A bit of both,” said Ann with a weak smile. “You’re a very handsome guy and the exhibition is certainly true to life.”
“Oh! Am I?” said Michael with a wink. “You know about life in the Paleolithic era?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Paleo- what?”
“Paleolithic. The Stone Age.”
“Ah. Let’s just say I have a little experience on the topic.”
At that moment Steve returned, carefully carrying a glass filled to the brim with water. He handed it to Ann, who sipped at it. It was warm.
“Thank you, Steve,” she said, handing the drink back. “I feel much better.”
With the help of Michael, she climbed unsteadily to her feet, while Steve walked off, muttering to himself about timewasters. Ann leant against a display cabinet for support and looked in again at the features of the model caveman. Now that she saw it again, the face did not look quite so like Zo as she had first imagined. The eyes were less harsh and the features more friendly. Suddenly she noticed the refection of Michael watching her in the glass and she turned to face him.
“You said this is your Stone Age exhibition,” she said. “Do you work for the museum?”
“Not exactly,” Michael smiled and pointed towards the exit. “Come on. I’ll explain while I drive you home.”
~
Five minutes later, they were sitting in Ann’s car as Michael drove it out of the parking lot. At first, Ann was going to protest that she was perfectly capable of driving, but as she still felt somewhat dazed after all the events of the day, she realized that she really wasn’t. Instead, she had simply climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door.
“Nice car,” said Michael, enjoying the sporty feel of Ann’s vehicle. He gestured to the parking lot. “I won’t tell you which of these old rust buckets is mine.”
“So you do have a job then,” said Ann. “What is it, if not working for the museum?”
“Well, in a way, I do work for the museum. At the moment.” He paused at a crossroads and looked expectantly at Ann. “Some direction would be nice.”
“Oh! Sorry.” She leaned forward in her seat to see where they were. “It’s left here.”
Michael turned left.
“Please carry on,” said Ann.
“Yes, so at the moment I am helping the museum with the Stone Age exhibition. I’m an archaeologist.”
“Really? I thought archaeologists spent all their time digging holes in the ground and making up huge stories about tiny pieces of pottery.”
Michael laughed. “Oh, we certainly do that. But it’s not all we do. One of the other things we get involved in is working on museum exhibitions.”
“Doing what exactly? Take the next right, by the way.” She pointed to the road in question.
“Advice mostly,” he said, slowing down before taking the turning. “For example, on this Stone Age exhibition, I have been helping the guys at the Field museum to acquire artifacts, construct models and generally ensure the maximum impact and information for their visitors.”
“Maximum impact?” said Ann, clearly amused by the idea. “It’s a museum!”
Michael winked at her. “Well, it certainly seemed to have an effect on you, Ann. I believe we’re here,” he added, as he pulled the up car in the shadow of her vast apartment building. “Where should I park?”
“Don’t worry about that!” she pointed towards a young man wearing a long coat and a top hat. “Timpson will park the car.”
She opened the door to get out then stopped, turning back to Michael.
“What about you? How are you going to get back to the museum?”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said, with a smile. “I could do with a stroll. There’s nothing like a bit of fresh air.”
“Well…” Ann wasn’t sure what to say. Should she invite him up to her apartment? Or would that seem too forward? What she really needed to do was talk to Nina.
“Talking about fresh air,” said Michael, breaking the awkward silence. “How would you like to come hang gliding with me tomorrow?”
“Hang gliding?” Ann took a step backwards in surprise.
Redemption: Supernatural Time-Traveling Romance with Sci-fi and Metaphysics Page 8
