Promised Soul

by Sandra J. Jackson

  I stared at the names, wanting to remember that family – that time. Memories of my dreams flashed before me, confirming that I had once been Mary and that the names on the list were my family from 1856.

  “No wonder I've always wanted to visit England, it had been Mary's home.”

  I scrolled down further, but there was nothing. I kept searching, hoping to find more information but found nothing save for a picture of the ship Mary and her family perished on. It looked very much like the one on the cover of the book I was reading. At that moment, the thought occurred to me that my dreams began about the same time I'd started reading. Had that picture triggered my memories? Perhaps it was the planning of the trip itself. Truthfully though, it wasn't really the how that mattered, but the why. What was the purpose? The only other constant was Thomas. He had been in every dream, and if he wasn't actually in my dream, he was still a part of it.

  I was getting weary thinking about it, trying to make sense of it all and my head began to hurt. “No more.” I groaned. Just as I was about to shut the computer down, a last minute thought occurred to check my e-mail. My initial e-mail earned responses of good wishes for a great trip from family and friends, but as I was finishing with the last one, a new message arrived in my inbox from my mother.

  Hello Krista,

  Thank you for the update, I'm glad you arrived safely.

  I have something to tell you. I wanted to tell you when we had brunch together and on the few occasions that we spoke on the phone before you left, though in truth, telling you over the phone seemed inappropriate, and I'm pretty sure it's inappropriate in an e-mail, too. Anyhow, I'll just get to the point. I've met someone. He's a wonderful man that I've recently reconnected with (we actually first met in high school) and well… last night he proposed to me.

  “WHAT!” I yelled at the computer, my headache made worse.

  I know you must be shocked but I'm so happy, I hope you can be happy for me too. Anyway, I just thought I should let you know before you meet him, which will be soon.

  We are leaving for Paris in the next few hours for a couple of weeks, and then we plan to stay in England for a week. I'll contact you when we arrive in London, and we can make arrangements to meet.

  Take care and see you soon.

  Love,

  Mom

  I stared at the screen in complete and utter disbelief. My mother, engaged to be married, and she was coming to England! I didn't know which was more shocking. I buried my face in my hands and cried.

  Twenty-Six

  It was still dark out when I opened my eyes, my body and mind were well rested for the second time in as many days. It had been a long time since sound sleep was able to grab hold of my consciousness and send me into a dreamless state. Closing my eyes at night and then suddenly waking up completely rested, it was wonderful. Yet, I found myself wondering when it would all end.

  I rose from bed and headed to the kitchen, my excitement was already beginning to build as Aaron would be arriving shortly to take me on my first sightseeing trip.

  As my coffee brewed, I stared at the sky through the window and watched as it lightened with yellow, pink, and purple hues. A tremendous feeling of peace fell over me.

  Two days ago, I had spent an entire day in front of a computer researching until my eyes had grown blurry, wasting my time and energy with very little to show for it. What little information I had gleaned about Mary and her family would have to suffice. There seemed to be no reason for knowing about my past life. Though it felt to me like Mary, who seemingly lived in my subconscious, was happy with my acceptance of her.

  With my coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other, I made my way to the living room and sat on the couch. I was tempted to turn on the television, but quickly shook the thought from my head. I had had enough of technology, especially the computer. I looked over at the desk; my blue sweater still covered the monitor, tossed over it in frustration days before. The computer sat in silence, and for now it would remain in that state.

  With breakfast over and nothing else to do but sit and wait, I made my way back to the bedroom and dressed. Though it was still early, I did not intend to make a bad first impression by not being ready when Aaron arrived, especially since I wanted to talk about making some changes to my itinerary.

  Once ready, I sat back in the living room and picked up my book to pass the time. Before long, there was a knock at the door, and it startled me.

  I put my book down on the table and jumped up from the couch, heading toward the bedroom for a quick glance in the mirror, calling out toward the door as I passed. “Be there in a second.”

  Satisfied by my appearance, I returned to the front door and placed my hand on the knob, hesitating for a split second before taking a breath and opening the door. For some odd reason, I was nervous.

  “Hi!” I pulled open the door with a friendly smile on my face, which quickly disappeared, replaced by my gaping mouth.

  “Disappointed?” he asked, his red eyebrows rose accentuating the question.

  “Peter! What are you doing here?”

  “Well, it's nice to see you again, too,” he said as he entered and headed to the living room. He made himself comfortable in the oversize chair and left me standing there staring after him. Our last encounter had ended in an awkward parting, and it was obvious that tension remained. I closed the door and made my way over to him.

  “I'm sorry…” I started, finding a place on the couch. “I didn't mean to sound disappointed. I'm just surprised that you're here. Did something happen to Aaron's mother?” I asked, not hiding the concern from my voice.

  “She's fine. Still alive if that's what you mean.” Peter's tone sounded a little cold to me, but under the circumstances, I understood. He'd shown me that he had feelings for me, and I hadn't exactly responded the way I'm sure he had wanted.

  “Then why isn't he here?” I was feeling annoyed and beginning to doubt there was even a problem. I wondered if Peter was just trying to spend more time with me.

  “He's sick.”

  “Sick!”

  “Food poisoning or something. Anyway, he called me last night to explain and asked if I could find a replacement, so I rearranged my schedule.” I must have worn an expression of distrust for he put up his hand. “I assure you I have nothing untoward planned, I promise to be completely professional and on my best behaviour.”

  I felt the need to settle things before we went anywhere. “Listen, about the other day, I really didn't mean to upset –”

  Peter waved his hand interrupting my apology. “No need for you to apologize. I'm the one who acted inappropriately. Let's forget about it, alright?” He smiled, his blue eyes reflecting warmth.

  I smiled back and nodded. “Okay. Friends?” I asked.

  “Friends,” he agreed. “Ready to go?” Peter rose from the chair and walked toward the door.

  “Yup, just got to get my pack.” I reached down and grabbed the small backpack sitting near the door, slinging it over my shoulder, and keeping the idea of changing plans to myself. I would enjoy whatever was in store for me.

  As we headed toward Peter's car, I followed closely behind, suddenly remembering I had to get in on the other side, not before, of course, following him to the driver's side. We both laughed at my mistake.

  “You'll get it by the end of the day,” Peter said as I climbed into the passenger side.

  We drove out of town, the streets only just beginning to show signs of life. We drove in silence, awkwardness still polluting the air, despite the apologies and the promise of friendship. I was resolute to put it all behind me, and the only way I knew how to do that was to start over. A new beginning meant pretending as though Peter and I just met and forgetting what we'd shared, erasing his kiss and the unease that followed, and overlooking Aaron's failure to show up – yet again.

  “Where are we going anyway?” I asked, breaking the silence and pulling my gaze away from the window long enough to look at him while
he answered.

  “To Portsmouth, it's about 2 hours south from here.” Peter looked briefly in my direction – it was a start.

  “Oh! What's in Portsmouth?”

  “You'll just have to wait until we get there.” He looked at me and smiled.

  Somehow, his smile melted away any remaining discomfort, and I knew then that I could push our little misunderstanding to the back of my mind and forget about it.

  The two-hour drive went quickly with Peter explaining the sites as we drove, and in no time, we arrived in Portsmouth. Peter pulled into a parking spot alongside a park and handed me a list.

  “What's this?” I asked taking it from his hand.

  “That is a list of all the attractions and places to see here in Portsmouth. We can go to whatever spot catches your eye.”

  I flipped through the extensive list; so many places grabbed my attention. Finally after several minutes, I made some decisions and chose a number of attractions. Peter examined my choices and using his GPS plotted out the most practical routes to get to each of the attractions. It was decided we would get at least two destinations in just before noon and then we would decide on where to go next. By the time 11:30 rolled around, we had finished the second attraction of the day and made our way back to the car.

  “Well, where do we go next – lunch?” My stomach rumbled, answering my own question.

  “Do you think you could hold on for another couple of hours or so?” Peter asked.

  “I guess so. Why?”

  “There is somewhere I'd like to take you, but it will take some time to get there, then we can stop for lunch.”

  I was slightly disappointed, not having seen as much of Portsmouth as I'd wanted. Peter seemed to read my mind; my face always gave my thoughts away.

  “Don't worry, we're not leaving quite yet, in fact we're just going on a bit further south. We'll have more time to explore later this afternoon.”

  I nodded as we headed toward the car. This time I remembered to get in on the left side.

  “You're learning,” Peter said with a laugh.

  We drove south for a few minutes and came to the end of the road – literally.

  “We're taking a ferry?” I tried keeping my voice steady.

  “Yes, we're going to the Isle of Wight, there's a…”

  My head swam as he said Isle of Wight everything else he said after that was lost.

  “Are you alright?” Peter stared at me with a look of concern.

  I didn't want him to know what I had discovered about myself, especially since he had already told me he didn't believe in the possibility of having a past life.

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts, pretending to smooth them out and forced a smile.

  “Yeah, sure!” I didn't sound convincing even to myself.

  “Are you sure? We don't have to go.”

  “No, I want to.” I needed to get over my fear of boats and water and the best way to do that was to face them head on. Maybe that's why Mary had revealed herself to me. I could tell by the look on Peter's face that he didn't believe me, so with every bit of courage I could find, I steadied my voice and smiled as convincingly as possible. “Yes, I'm sure. It will be fun. It's been a long time since I've been on a ferry.” My fists clenched as I dug my nails into the palms of my hands. The smile on my face didn't waver, and it must have worked because the next thing I knew we were embarking onto the ferry where an attendant directed us to a spot and we parked.

  “Let's go.” Peter said to me as he opened his car door.

  “What!”

  “Well, it's about a forty minute ride. You can't spend the trip in the car.”

  I thought about that for a minute. If the ferry were to sink, the last place I wanted to be was inside a car. I exited quickly and followed Peter.

  Finally after some time, we climbed back into the car and began to disembark. As we slowly made our way off the ferry, I felt my shoulders begin to relax.

  “You're looking a bit better,” Peter said as we rolled off the ferry.

  “What?” I was busy concentrating on relaxing.

  “You looked a bit peaked. Were you feeling seasick?

  “No.”

  “Don't much care for boats then?”

  “No.” I stared out the window, hoping Peter would get the hint from my one-word answers. He did.

  We drove silently for another forty-five minutes while I recovered from the ferryboat ride. My body relaxed and I was content that Peter had given up on finding out what the matter was. Finally, he parked the car.

  “Where are we?” I asked. Looking out the window, the ocean stretched out in front of us in the distance.

  “We're going to visit a lighthouse. Now, I'm sure you've seen one before, but this one is particularly beautiful, and the walk is breathtaking.”

  “Walk?” I asked, spotting the lighthouse.

  “Yes, well there is no access to the lighthouse by car, so we have to walk. Are you all right with that?” Peter looked at me with a discerning eye. I supposed my apparent seasickness made him question my health.

  “Yes, perfectly fine.” My stomach rumbled noisily.

  “It's also a great place for a picnic.” Peter walked around to the back of his car and opened the trunk. He pulled out a soft cooler, and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Ready?” he asked closing the trunk. He looked down at my feet. I was wearing sandals. “Ah, those might be a problem,” he said.

  “Don't worry, I always come prepared.” I set my pack on the ground, rummaged through it and pulled out a pair of running shoes. Once on my feet, I returned my sandals to my pack and sealed it up. “Okay, let's go.” I flung my pack over my shoulder and waited for Peter to take the lead.

  Peter was right, the walk wasn't too long and the views were stunning. When we arrived nearer to the lighthouse, he stopped and set the cooler on the ground.

  “How about we get a bite to eat first, and then we'll visit the lighthouse.”

  I was quite happy to agree to his plan, so we sat on the cool grass and enjoyed our picnic lunch.

  When we were done, I leaned back and placed my hands behind me for support as I tilted my face toward the warm sun. A flash from a dream – memory – of Mary doing the same thing crossed my mind, flickered, and was gone.

  “You do think of everything, don't you?” I asked.

  “I try,” he said. I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling.

  We lingered for a few minutes more enjoying the sounds of the waves on the shore and the gulls in the sky, before walking over to the lighthouse.

  “Do you think we can go out on to the deck?” I whispered to Peter as our lighthouse guide was explaining the mechanisms of the light to our tour group.

  “I hardly think so,” Peter whispered back. “I don't think it's meant for visitors.”

  “Well, can you ask? It's not like you don't know the guy.” Peter seemed to know just about everyone we ever encountered.

  “Fine, but only after these other people leave.” He sounded exasperated.

  We patiently waited and listened to our guide for a few minutes longer. Finally, it was time for us to leave the tower, but Peter and I hung back as the other couple made their way down the stairs.

  “Hey mate,” Peter said, clapping the lighthouse guide on the shoulder. “Do you think it'd be alright for us to go out on the deck? She'd like to snap a photo.” He pointed at me.

  I smiled and held up the camera clutched in my hand.

  “Well…” our guide, I never did catch his name, hesitated, “it's not really allowed, but I suppose… so long as you're careful and not out there long. I'll go down and keep the other two distracted for a bit, but be quick about it.”

  “Sure thing,” Peter said, grinning widely.

  We followed our guide down the first bit of winding stair and then as he continued down the rest, Peter and I snuck out across the catwalk to the door that would lead us out onto the deck at the back of
the tower. The salt air hit me as soon as we opened the door, and we carefully made our way to the front of the deck overlooking the ocean. I looked down at the ground below, immediately getting a little dizzy. I stepped back and pressed up against the tower.

  “Are you alright?” Peter asked gently laying his hand on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, just higher than I thought; here you'll have to take the picture.” I handed him my camera.

  “What exactly am I taking a photo of?” he asked taking the camera from my hands.

  “Just the view out there.” I pointed to the ocean ahead of us. I couldn't possibly tell him the reason, I wasn't even sure myself, it was just a need.

  “Just straight out there?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Right then,” he said, turning away from me.

  A gust of warm air charged into me – pushing me back up against the lighthouse. It felt as though something slammed me hard and knocked the breath from my lungs. The salt air stung, and I closed my eyes for a moment. My head began to swim, and I felt myself sway. The sounds of the ocean and seabirds mixed into an ear-piercing din, and my hands instinctively covered my ears. All the while I leaned back against the tower, steadying myself. Just as quickly as the wind and noise appeared, it disappeared, leaving nothing but my confusion in its wake.

  “There, I hope this is what you're looking for.” Peter turned toward me. “What's the matter?” he placed both his hands on my shoulders and stared into my still tearing eyes. I sensed his alarm as the look of horror I must have worn on my face registered in his own.

  “I – I…” I stammered. “Did you not see that – hear that?” I looked at him, not believing my own ears or eyes.

  “What?” He turned around and searched the horizon.

  My senses fooled once again by ghostly memories, as I was the only witness to whatever oddity had occurred. “Nothing, I guess I was still a little bit dizzy from looking over the edge. We better get out of here before that friend of yours comes looking for us.” I forced a smile, took the camera's strap off his wrist, and turned to leave.