Promised Soul

by Sandra J. Jackson

  “My mother says 'the eyes are the windows to a person's soul'; maybe you knew him from another life.” Lindsay shrugged. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and goose bumps rose on my arms.

  “You don't believe that past life stuff, do you?” Jennifer asked Lindsay.

  “I don't know, I'm starting to believe anything is possible,” Lindsay answered, draining the last drop of wine from her glass and placing it on the table.

  “I believe in that stuff, my mother sees a psychic medium regularly and –”

  “Hey, let's watch these movies before it gets too late.” I interrupted Amanda before she could finish. My arms prickled, I didn't want to hear anymore.

  When the movies were finished, I showed the girls to their rooms. Amanda and Lindsay shared the queen bed in the guest room while Jennifer slept on the day bed in the third bedroom that doubled as my home office. With everyone settled for the night, I slipped under the cool sheets of my own bed, closed my eyes and smiled. It was the happiest I had been in a week, and it felt good to be going to bed with such joy.

  In the distance, there was a roll of thunder and a breeze picked up, causing the curtains to dance ever so slightly. The thought of getting out of bed and closing the window in case it rained was brief, and before long, I drifted off to sleep.

  Seven

  The ship tossed back and forth as waves crashed against the hull rocking the people within. Having left London a full week earlier, they had finally reached the Atlantic after passing by the Isle of Wight. Two days later, there was no land in sight and as they headed for New York, there seemed to be no end to the cruel winter storms. Chunks of ice crashed into the sides of the ship, the sounds of which sent shivers up the spines of the passengers and crew aboard.

  “Mary, hang on to your brother and sister, I've got to find your mother.” The man took his two younger children by the hands and handed them over to his eldest daughter. Two smaller bodies pressed into Mary's own. She wrapped her arms around them in the dim light. The ship tossed again and they fell to the floor.

  “Father, don't leave!” Mary cried after him, but it was too late.

  “Ann! Ann!” Mary heard him call.

  Mary looked around. She could scarcely make out the faces of the people around her, but she could feel and hear their fear. There was a loud sound as the ship rolled back and forth, screams filled the air followed by a rush of cold water. Large chunks of ice battered against the hull, tearing it apart, sending splinters of wood careening through the air. Mary felt the sting as one such splinter slammed into her forehead inches above her right eye, and almost sent her over backward. Water rushed heavily through a large, gaping hole, passengers cried – there was panic on board.

  “Hang on!” Mary cried to her siblings above the clamour. Rivulets of blood mixed with the spray of salt water ran down her cheek and into her mouth. The metallic taste of blood and salt assaulted her tongue.

  Another wave forced its way through the ever-enlarging hole. Passengers scrambled, trying to get up the ladder and up to the deck above, each wave taking its toll on the side of the ship. Mary clung to her siblings as tightly as she could, but it was getting harder to hang on to them as the icy water crept up their bodies chilling them through to the bone.

  Mary attempted to stand, pulling her brother and sister with her, but each time they fell back down. They tried crawling toward the ladder, but the other passengers and rushing water shoved them out of the way. An exhausted Mary began to lose her grip on her brother as her fingers became numb with cold. Another wave rocked the ship again, and as the water rushed back through the hole, Mary felt it pulling her brother with it.

  “Hold on, John!” Mary yelled. She looked into his sad and scared deep brown eyes.

  “I can't!” he cried; his icy cold hand slipped from her grasp.

  “John!” she screamed. There was no answer.

  Mary gripped her sister as tightly as she could, pulling her toward her body with one arm as she tried to make her way to the ladder again. Another wave grabbed them and dragged them back down toward the lower end of the sinking ship. The frigid water took their breaths. More waves crashed through, their long icy fingers clawing and pulling them closer to the opening. Sarah slipped from Mary's grasp, the waves claiming her and dragging her out to sea. The water receded from above Mary's head; she took a final breath of air and slipped out the hole. The freezing water enveloped her as she felt herself sinking towards the bottom. She struggled – she wanted to breathe. Her lungs burned with the desire to inhale – she did and the icy cold water filled her lungs.

  'Thomas' she heard her mind scream and then darkness.

  “Hey, it's okay!”

  Who is that? What's happened? My eyes burned and watered from the bright light. Cold and confusion enveloped me. There was a soothing voice in the distance. Where is it coming from?

  “It's okay, it was just a dream, hush now, it's all right,” the voice soothed again.

  After what seemed like several minutes, I became more lucid as Jennifer offered calming words while she stroked my hair. The light on my nightstand burned brightly in the darkness. I sat up and looked at Jennifer, sitting on the edge of my bed, a look of concern on her face.

  “What happened?” I asked as I wiped my hand across my damp forehead. “Why am I wet?”

  Jennifer sighed. Her eyes looked upward for a moment as my awareness and clarity became evident. “You had a bad dream about your father. You were calling for him,” she said.

  “My father?” I was bewildered. It had been years since I had dreamt of him.

  “Yeah, you called out 'Father, don't leave'. I came in as soon as you called. The storm was keeping me up anyway.” Jennifer shrugged.

  I looked around my room, still slightly puzzled. “Why am I wet?” I repeated.

  “It was raining pretty hard, and the wind was blowing it in through your window. I closed it as soon as I came in, but it was already too late. The floor beside your bed is wet, too.”

  I looked down over the side of my bed and saw that a small puddle had formed under my window. The storm had reduced to distant rumbles in the night, and I shivered as bits from my dream resurfaced.

  “Are you okay?” Jennifer touched my arm.

  I nodded, though the dream had left me feeling uneasy. “Yeah, I'm fine. It was just one of those dreams that felt so real, you know?”

  “Yeah, I've had those before. What was it about?”

  I didn't want to relive the dream, but one thing that Jennifer was good at was deciphering them.

  “It was kind of like the one I had before, but this one was more like part two. Does that make sense?” I looked at Jennifer, her eyes widened with intrigue.

  “Yeah! Sure! What were they about? Maybe I can help you figure them out.”

  Without hesitation, I recounted my dreams, explaining how the first dream had woken me up the morning before, leaving a feeling of sadness in its wake. There wasn't much to tell about the second, the memory already faint, but one thing was certain, both dreams were about someone named Mary. I tried my best to describe how it seemed like I was Mary in my dream, but at the same time, it was as if I was watching the scene unfold from a distance.

  “The strange thing is I don't recognize anyone. No one is familiar.” I closed my eyes briefly, trying to conjure up images from my dreams, but none came to mind.

  “Are the others familiar to Mary?”

  I had to think about Jennifer's question. My dreams had never before felt or looked so real; it was almost like watching a movie unfold in my mind. Usually, my dreams were just a jumble of bits from the day's experiences, never really making any sense.

  “Yeah… I think she knows them. But why do I feel like it's me sometimes?”

  Jennifer had a thoughtful look on her face and I waited patiently for her to respond. I hoped she could offer some explanation.

  “I don't know.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, caught my fingers
in a tangle, and absently began working it out. I didn't expect her to know the answer and yet I couldn't help but feel disappointed.

  “I'm sorry,” Jennifer said reaching over to take my free hand in hers. “Was the dream you had tonight really frightening?”

  “I remember being very cold.” I shivered slightly at the faint memory.

  “Do you remember anything else?”

  I stopped untangling my hair, my fingers distractedly rubbing over the birthmark in my hairline. An image flashed in front of me.

  “I'm on a boat, a clipper; I think.” I reached over to my nightstand, grabbed my book, and pointed to the picture on the front. “I think a boat like this, only it was sinking.”

  Jennifer examined the picture. “Maybe this is the boat you're dreaming about, does it sink in the story?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Don't you have a friend from college coming to visit you soon?” Jennifer asked, sounding like she'd suddenly had an idea.

  “Yeah! Why?”

  “Isn't she a Titanic buff who wants to visit the Maritime Museum and the cemeteries?”

  “Yes, she does!”

  Gradually, I began to understand what Jennifer was getting at. Visiting the Maritime Museum had never been a desire of mine. I couldn't bear to read or see anything about tragic shipwrecks, the Titanic included. Now, a friend from college was coming to visit, and she wanted me to take her to the museum and visit the burial grounds for the passengers of the Titanic disaster.

  “Do you think maybe your dreams have anything to do with that?”

  “Yes, I do,” I nodded. “But what about calling for my father?” That part was still a little puzzling.

  “Maybe because you got a picture of him tonight, and it brought back memories and feelings.” Jennifer shrugged.

  I nodded. “It all makes sense now, most of it anyway. Some things aren't quite as clear.”

  “It's a dream, they don't always make sense.” Jennifer laid her hand on my shoulder. “I think the storm is over, are you going to be okay?”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Jen. Honestly, don't you ever get sick of coming to my rescue?”

  “No,” she yawned.

  “Go to bed,” I told her, “I'll be fine. See you in the morning.”

  Jennifer left my room and closed the door behind her. Brief memories from my dream came back, haunting me. I hoped she was right.

  Eight

  The night's storm cleared the way for a beautiful morning as the first rays of sunlight streamed brightly through my window. With my eyes still closed, I stretched and rolled towards it. The warmth of the sun soothed and embraced me; it felt good. A slow smile spread across my face as memories from the evening with my friends came to mind, my dream a distant memory. Fully awake, I opened my eyes, surprised to find the window shut, but soon remembered Jennifer had closed it during the night. Flinging back the blankets, I prepared to open the window for some much-needed air. As my feet hit the ground, the damp floor beneath them sent chills through my body, my lungs burned, and I gasped for air.

  The icy cold water enveloped her, and she sank deeper into the sea. I shook the memory from my mind. It was just a stupid dream.

  I opened the window and quietly tiptoed to the bathroom for a towel, throwing it on the floor and then making my way down the few stairs to the kitchen to start breakfast.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead!” Amanda greeted me.

  “Just in time,” said Lindsay, grabbing a plate with a stack of pancakes and heading into the dining room.

  “I can't believe you did this. I planned on surprising you with breakfast!” I walked into the dining room and saw the breakfast they had made.

  “Too bad! We beat you too it.” Jennifer smiled, already seated at the table.

  By ten o'clock my friends had departed, each of us promising to keep in touch before my summer vacation. With everyone gone, the house grew quiet, and though I enjoyed solitude, it wasn't what I needed. Instead, I packed a picnic lunch, grabbed a few other necessities, and jumped in my car for the drive to the beach. The weather was nice, and it beckoned me to take advantage.

  The beach was busy, but I found the perfect spot to lay out my blanket. With my plot of sand selected, my blanket in place, and my book in hand, the day showed signs of promise for a relaxing afternoon. However, before a chapter was even finished, a little girl, seemingly appearing from nowhere, interrupted me and found herself a comfortable spot on my blanket. Stunned, I stared at the child who returned my gaze with a wide grin on her face, a pretty girl, with brown, curly hair and deep blue eyes.

  “Ah, hello!” I said, having gotten over my initial shock. I smiled at her and laid my book down beside me.

  “Hi!” she giggled back.

  “Where's your mom?” I looked around hoping to spot what would probably be a frantic mother searching for her child.

  “Ovuh theah, sweeping.” The little girl's Rs and Ls sounded more like Ws. She pointed to a woman sleeping on a blanket about 15 metres away.

  “Is anyone else here with you?”

  “My sister, she's playin' with her fwends.” She pointed to an older child who was busily playing with some other girls. She looked to be about ten and didn't seem to notice that her much younger sister was missing.

  “How old are you?”

  “Four.” She held up three fingers.

  I laughed, “Four huh? What's your name?”

  “You know silly, it's Sawah!” she smiled up at me and took my hand in hers. “I glad I found you.”

  The familiarity, in which she showed me, was shocking. I searched my memory trying to recall meeting her at some other time. She was not familiar to me, and so my eyes trained on her mother who still lay sleeping on the beach, but she was too far away, and it was difficult to see her face. Sarah's sister continued playing, oblivious to the whereabouts of her little sister. I watched the girls for a moment, thinking that perhaps one of them had been a student of mine, but soon realized there wasn't a familiar face among them.

  “Why don't we go over and see your mommy? If she wakes up and sees you missing, she'll be very upset,” I said, standing up and reaching for Sarah's hand.

  “NO!”

  Surprised by her loud voice, I quickly sat back down again, noticing that others were watching me. It was certainly not my objective to draw attention to myself; she was someone else's child. I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.

  “Okay! You can stay awhile longer, but we're just going to sit here and as soon as your mommy or your sister comes to find you, you have to go right back.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled and put her head down as though disappointed. Suddenly, she flung herself into my arms for a hug. “I missed you!”

  My eyes widened as I tentatively hugged her back. After a moment Sarah sat back down on the blanket; she was beaming. Her apparent familiarity with me was puzzling and a little unsettling. I must know her from somewhere.

  “Where you been?” Sarah asked folding her arms as her smile turned into a pout.

  My answer had to be simple, there was no point in confusing her any more than she already seemed to be, so I responded with what I hoped would suffice.

  “At home.”

  For a while, she asked no other questions, seemingly satisfied by my simple response. She continued to hold my hand, content to sit beside me and not do much of anything at all. It was a little strange; most children her age rarely spent a lot of time sitting that still without anything to occupy them.

  “You know where Mummy is?” Sarah asked me, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. She looked up at me, and her deep blue eyes searched my face. I pointed to the woman still asleep on the beach.

  “No siwwy, the other mummy,” Sarah said, laughing at me.

  What at first seemed to be a rather easy question to answer had turned into more confusion on my part. I didn't understand what she wanted from me. What does she mean?

  “Oh, there you are,” a voice
interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see a woman walking towards us.

  “Emma, what are you doing over here? I told you to stay beside mommy.” The woman directed her question to Sarah.

  “Is this your mommy?” I looked down at the little girl sitting beside me. She quietly nodded.

  “Of course I am.” The woman sounded slightly annoyed.

  “I'm sorry, but she told me her name was Sarah, not Emma,” I explained to the woman who was now standing in front of us.

  She looked down at the little girl, who remained seated beside me. “Emma, are you telling stories?” She put her hands on her hips.

  The little girl looked up at me. “Sorry, name is Emma,” she said sheepishly. She grabbed my arm pulling me toward her as she leaned in, cupping her hands over her mouth. I leaned forward and she whispered, “You can call me Sawah.”

  I looked at the little girl grinning at me broadly, her blue eyes sparkling. It was obvious to me now that she was just a four-year-old playing a silly game.

  “Come on, Emma, let's find your sister, we have to go home now,” the woman said before turning her attention back to me. “I'm sorry if she interrupted you, I hope she wasn't too much trouble.”

  “No, she was fine, she's very cute. How old is she?” I asked, suspecting Emma hadn't been quite correct when she'd told me.

  “Three. Let's go Emma!” Emma's mother said, holding out her hand toward her daughter.

  Emma reached over and hugged me again. “I glad I found you,” she said for the second time since meeting. She grabbed her mother's hand and walked away. After a few steps, a beaming Emma turned around and looked at me. “Bye, Mary!” she waved.

  The hairs stood up on the back of my neck as a thousand prickles crept along my spine.