by Teresa Rae
“Rebecca, what is the greatest lesson you have ever learned?” the M.C. asks.
A hundred safe answers run through my head, but I push them away. I would dishonor James, Mama, and myself if I didn’t answer truthfully. I smile sadly as I look out into the audience.
“The greatest lesson I have ever learned is not to take anything for granted. I was a foster child, without a family, before I was adopted by a loving mother. When the recession hit Charleston, I lost my home, but I was fine because I had my mom. Last year, I lost her to breast cancer. I have loved and lost, and I guarantee I never take a single moment for granted. We have one chance in this life. There is no do-over or rewind button. We must live every moment as though it is our last, and we must love to our dying breath. This is the greatest lesson I have ever learned. Thank you.”
I’m given a polite applause and the judges’ faces are unreadable as I take my place next to the other girls. I just cost myself the competition by deviating off the acceptable standard answer of world peace, but I don’t care. What I said was the truth. I know Mama and James are looking down at me from heaven, and they are proud of me. The thought makes tears well up in my eyes, and I try to blink them away. I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I’m barely listening to the M.C.
“…and this year’s Miss South Carolina is Miss Charleston, Rebecca Douglass!” he announces.
I’m honestly stunned as the crowd jumps to their feet. This time, I can’t fight back the tears. They stream freely down my face as the crown is placed on my head and a bouquet of roses is put in my arms. I cry even more as I think about the last time I was given roses. Tears stream down my face the entire lonely walk across the stage.
I cry even harder when Marina and Sunny congratulate me in the dressing room. Marina simply holds me and allows me weep into the shoulder of her expensive suit.
“I know,” she says. “I wish she were here, too.”
I shake my head with tears streaming down my face. “It’s not that. Mama’s happy where she is. I was just hoping that maybe I’ve finally made you proud of me.”
“Becky Jo, what on earth are you talking about?” She pulls away and frowns deeply.
“I know I’ve been a huge burden, and I’m not exactly a little sister you can brag about at work.” More tears escape my eyes.
Marina takes hold of my shoulders. “You just won Miss South Carolina, and you’re worried about whether I’m proud of you?”
“But I’m not smart like you,” I object. “I’m just small, plain me.”
“Don’t you ever say that!” she orders. She starts crying uncontrollably. My strong, powerful sister can’t hold back the floodgates. It takes a several moments for her to calm down.
“You and I have very different perceptions of reality,” she finally says, wiping tears off her cheeks.
“But I have bad grades, and I barely passed the HASP, and I’ll be lucky to get into college.”
“Becky Jo, why were your grades bad?” Marina asks, fighting to keep her emotions under control.
“I told you. I’m not smart.”
She shakes her head fiercely.
“No, your grades were bad because you cared for our mother as she died!” She begins crying a second time.
“For over six years, you took her to doctor’s appointments, served as her nurse, and even kept a roof over your heads. While other teenagers were going to the prom, you were at her side in the hospital. You balanced the checkbook, paid the bills, ran the household, and still managed to win Miss Charleston and finish high school. I’m proud of you every moment of every day! You are the most remarkable woman I know, and you’re only eighteen!”
“Here, here!” Sunny concurs. “Becky Jo, you are truly one of a kind.”
Marina nods her head. “I’m convinced the world has got it backwards. Great accomplishments are just words on paper. It is how we love that defines us. I’m proud of you because you know how to love, not because you can win a beauty pageant! I wish I were more like you.”
Her words stun me. My whole life I’ve compared myself to Marina, and she wants to be more like me. This proves it – I really am not very bright.
* * *
After countless congratulations, photos, and several television interviews, I am finally free to go back to the hotel room for the night. Marina and Sunny send me to the car while they finish organizing my things. When I walk into the wonderful South Carolina air, I am grateful Marina parked the rental under a streetlight. Thinking of a cup of warm milk and a soft bed, I push the button on the car remote to unlock the doors. I don’t notice the man sitting on the car in the next parking spot until he speaks.
“Good evening, Ma’am,” he says in an all too familiar soft-spoken voice.
I jump and drop my roses. I look into a pair of beautiful brown eyes with disbelief. I gasp. I have to believe the easiest explanation; this man must be a descendant of James’s. At least that’s what I think, until he speaks a second time.
“Perhaps you could tell me where I can find my wife?” He stands up and takes a step forward. His eyes continue to peer into mine. “Her name is Rebecca Josephine Harris Douglass Blair.”
“James?” I whisper, not daring to believe what I see and hear.
He smiles faintly, holding up a hand.
“In the flesh,” he says.
I cautiously reach for him. His large, warm hand wraps firmly around mine.
“Tell me you didn’t conjure yourself here!” I exclaim. “I couldn’t stand to lose you again!”
His smile widens slightly. “No, I didn’t conjure myself here, not exactly anyway. I’m really here.”
“And you won’t disappear from my time in fifteen days?” I demand. “Because that would be the cruelest thing you could ever do to me!”
“Rebecca, I’m not going anywhere.” He continues to stare at me as though I, too, might disappear.
“But how is this possible?” I’m trying to resist being dragged into my hallucination, but James looks, smells, and feels completely real.
“That, I’m afraid, is a very long story. It’s best shared another day.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you, I’ve been looking for my wife. She just up and disappeared on our wedding day, and I need to tell her something.”
“What do you need to tell her?” I ask.
He tenderly moves a strand of hair out of my face.
“I need to tell her that I can’t live without her,” he whispers.
He gently outlines my face with his fingertips as though he thinks I may also be an illusion. It is immensely intimate. I sigh at his touch.
Someone clears their throat behind us.
I turn around to find Marina looking at us with one of her sculpted eyebrows raised. Behind her, Sunny is standing with wide eyes.
“Good evening, Ma’am.” James offers Marina his hand. “You must be Rebecca’s sister.”
“I know who I am. Who exactly are you?” she replies, glaring at his hand.
“I’m Rebecca’s …um… boyfriend.” He fills in the word. “My name is James Blair.”
“Becky Jo, I didn’t know you were dating anyone,” she says with her eyebrow still raised.
“They met while you were in China,” Sunny finds her tongue. “James has been out of town.”
“James, there you are!” A huge man jogs into the glow of the streetlight, followed by a gangly guy with a limp. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Sunny clutches her heart as though she’s having a heart attack when she sees them.
“Old friend!” Henry squeals, tightly hugging me while he jumps up and down with pure delight.
“This is my uncle, Gabriel Blair and our cousin, Henry,” James introduces the men to Marina.
Her face is stoic. “I assume you come from the Virginia City Blairs?”
“Yes, our family owns the horse ranch and the old mansion,” Gabe answers.
Marina n
ods. “James Blair, you are not dating my sister until I say that you are dating my sister. Do you understand me?”
“Marina, I’m eighteen,” I argue.
She shakes her head crossly to silence me. “It doesn’t matter how old you get, I will always be your sister. I’m a bit old-fashioned. If a gentleman wants to date a lady, he had better ask for permission, not do it behind her sister’s back. It’s late, and we’re leaving.”
She bends over and picks up my roses before opening the passenger-side door for Sunny.
James takes my left hand and kisses the diamond ring around my middle finger.
“Good night, Rebecca,” he whispers. “I’ll come to you tomorrow.”
Marina gives him a dirty look. “Good night, gentlemen.”
James nods as he gets into the passenger-side seat of the fire-red Mustang he had been sitting on. Henry gets in the backseat. Gabe starts the car, and the tires squeal on the way out of the parking lot.
Marina leisurely puts her key into the ignition of the rental.
“You were pretty rude,” I say to her.
“Becky Jo, the Blairs are disgustingly rich. I have to establish some ground rules so they don’t think they’re pulling the shots. I guarantee you, you’ll thank me later.”
“They’re good guys,” I argue.
“Yes, and I’m a lawyer who deals with the disgustingly rich. I’m not going to leave my little sister to their mercy.”
“James would never do anything to hurt me,” I tell her. “Besides, Gabe was there.”
Marina nods thoughtfully. “Maybe, but I don’t know anything about these guys. I really do expect to get to know them before you go on any dates with that James.”
“I think you have ulterior motives,” Sunny says from the front passenger seat.
“What ulterior motives could I possibly have?”
“Gabe Blair is a tall, handsome man, is he not?” Sunny smirks.
Marina breaks into an impish smile. “I must admit, he is a very fine black man. Getting to know him better wouldn’t be all together dreadful.”
The drive to the hotel passes very quickly as I try to grasp what is going on. How is it possible that James, Gabe, and Henry are in my time? I believe James when he said that he hadn’t been conjured to my time because of a few simple facts: he found me in South Carolina –not Virginia City, they had a car, and most importantly, Gabe knew how to drive that car.
The moment we step into the hotel room, Sunny grabs my hand and drags me to the bathroom while Marina hangs my Miss South Carolina gowns in the closet. As soon as the bathroom door shuts, Sunny turns on me.
“What did he say to you? How is it they are in our time?” she demands.
“I asked, but he wouldn’t tell me. He said it was too long a story. He just told me that he was real, and he would visit me tomorrow. How is all this possible? I mean, I didn’t think I would ever see him again.”
“There has to be more to the story.” Sunny starts pacing the room. “You took the potion. You put the twig from a fruit tree under your bed and then you made your wish…”
“I didn’t use a twig from a fruit tree,” I interrupt.
She stops pacing to look at me. “What do you mean you didn’t use a twig from a fruit tree? You told me you used a twig!”
“Of course I used a twig, just not from a fruit tree. You never told me it had to be from a fruit tree, so I found an old picture of the manor in 1873, and I noticed a tiny fir on the side of the house. That fir tree is still there. I thought it was a sign, so I used a twig from it.”
Sunny gasps and falls on her knees. She dumps the contents of her purse on the floor and begins rummaging through the mess. Her hands start shaking uncontrollably when she picks up the little twig. I’m more than surprised to see that, although it’s been nearly four months, the twig looks as though it was cut from the fir tree that very day.
“I found this under your bed but didn’t throw it away because it was pulsing with magic. I never thought…” Her voice trails off.
“Sunny what does it mean?” I frantically ask.
She locks eyes with me. “Who else knew about the fir twig?” she demands.
“No one…” I suddenly remember someone. “No one, except Gabe’s deceased mother.”
“Rosanna knew? Rosanna was rumored to be a very powerful conjure woman. If she knew, and Gabe has the sight…” Sunny turns on me. “Tell me what you asked for, word for word.”
I think for a moment. “I said, ‘Let me go back to 1875 to save Colonel Blair, so he will obtain eternal happiness and so my friends will have long lives’.”
She starts laughing insanely. “It would only take a couple simple spells! A selfless sacrifice, a fir twig from a tree living in both times, the spring equinox, and a love that transcends time, Gabe could have easily done it! Oh, Becky Jo, what a miracle you are!”
“Sunny, I don’t understand. What difference does a fir twig make?”
“Fir trees are also called evergreens. They represent eternal life. The stars aligned the night you conjured yourself into the past. This would explain the magic!”
“Tell me what’s going on!” I plead. “Why are James, Gabe, and Henry in our time?”
“It’s not just our time; it’s also their time!” She laughs delightedly. “Becky Jo, you made it possible for them to conjure themselves immortal!”
Becky Jo’s Favorite Books
* The Bible. King James Version
* The Pocket Book of Prayers. Edited by Jim Palmer
* The Book of a Thousand Prayers. Compiled by Angela Ashwin
A Special Preview of
Conjuring Might
The pistol cocked as it was put to the man’s right temple. The action was deliberate and precise. There wasn’t any hesitation before the trigger was pressed. A gunshot rang through the air. A moment later, the man’s body fell to the floor with a loud thud. Frightened by the noise, birds flew off the windowsill outside the window. A look of agony was his face from his body’s awkward position. A second man sighed from the bed.
“Damn it!” yelled the man on the floor as he sat up, clutching his head. “That hurts like hell!”
“I imagine it does,” said Gabe while biting into an apple. “You have been trying to kill yourself for months. Do you have it out of your system, yet?”
James got to his feet. He kicked empty casings across the room. “I thought for sure a silver bullet would do it.”
“You are not a vampire.” Gabe rolled his eyes.
The silver bullet emerged from James’s temple and clanked onto the wood floor. The wound healed immediately afterward.
“No, I’m cursed for listening to your voodoo!” James snapped, kicking the bullet. “Why could you not just let me kill myself in peace?”
Gabe finished his apple. He stood up, stepping over a pool of blood. “I promised Rebecca I would watch over you, and I intend to keep that promise. She would be furious with me if I allowed you to commit suicide.”
Sorrow filled James’s face. “You understand my desire to join her.”
“Killing yourself will further separate you from her.”
“Surely, God would understand…”
“No, God would not understand. Besides, that is not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
James’s forehead wrinkled with frustration. “Not this again! I saw my wife die right before my own eyes!”
“Yes, Samuel poisoned her and she died. I was there, too. However, you have forgotten one rather large detail. Where is Rebecca’s body? You have her wedding dress and clothing, but there is not a body,” said Gabe.
“You heard Dr. O’Grady.” His eyes fill with moisture. “She was so small that her body would have disintegrated quickly.”
“Disintegrated – yes. Disappeared – no. I was there, and her body did not disintegrate, it disappeared.”
James shook his head. “There is a logical reason for…”
“Really?�
� Gabe interrupted. “Is there a logical reason her wedding ring also disappeared?”
James remained silent.
“I can tell you why the ring is gone. It is gone because she took it with her. She loves you so powerfully that she took the only connection to you she could, and she left something for you.” He pointed to the diamond pendant hanging from James’s neck.
James unconsciously raised a hand to the pendant, holding it tightly.
Gabe nodded, taking a seat in the rocking chair. “Your wife is not dead. Your wife is waiting for you in the future!”
“You’re insane,” James whispered.
“No, I’m not.” Gabe rocked, watching his nephew. “Rebecca told me many things about the future. I can prove I’m telling the truth.”
“Then prove it,” James ordered.
Gabe smiled knowingly. “Any moment, we will receive word that something terrible has happened in Virginia City.”
“Da whole towns on fire!” Rose sprinted into the room. “We gotta help dem!”
“Tell White Cloud to get the warriors ready, and have Henry saddle the horses,” Gabe said, rising to his feet. Rose obeyed, running out the door.
James angrily turned on his uncle. “You knew about the fire and did not try to stop it?”
“Yes, I knew about the fire,” Gabe retorted. “Rebecca told me about the fire. You must understand; we cannot change the things she told me about or we chance her never being born. We will fight the Cursed, and we will make the world a better place for her, but we cannot directly alter anything that may take her from us.”
James took in a deep breath of air. “Let us assume, for a moment, that you are right. How long must I wait to see her again?”
Gabe sympathetically patted his back. “The wait will be considerable, but Rebecca is worth it and so much more.”
Teresa Rae graduated from Utah State University with a Master's degree in Second Language Teaching. She lives in rural Utah with her artist husband, three awesome kids, and a very tiny dog. When she isn't writing, Teresa spends her time reading, hanging out with interesting people from all corners of the Earth, and critiquing chocolate (she is a complete chocolate snob). You can keep up to date with Teresa and her books by visiting her Facebook page
