Promised Soul

by Sandra J. Jackson

  Being the gracious person she was, Jane didn't let on, only smiled and continued working in her flower beds.

  I finished my breakfast in silence. Wiping the crumbs from my lap, I stood and headed back toward the stairs.

  “Hang on a moment would you, love?” Jane called from behind her shrubs.

  I stopped and waited patiently.

  “Ugh,” she groaned as she stood up, “I am getting too old for this.” She placed her hands on her hips and bent slightly backwards, stretching out her back. When she was finished, she headed in my direction. “Would you mind coming in for a moment, dear? I'd like to wash the dirt from my hands.”

  I nodded and placed my cup and plate on the first step, where I could retrieve them later when I headed back up to the apartment.

  Jane opened the door and waved me in ahead of her. I stood in her kitchen as she walked toward the sink to wash her hands.

  “I do hope the sun stays out for a while and warm things up a bit. Hard to believe it's the first day of September isn't it?”

  I nodded. “Yes.” I was at a loss for words.

  “Why don't you go make yourself comfortable in the living room? I'll only be a few minutes.” She took off the brightly coloured apron she was wearing and hung it on a hook on the back door.

  Before I could answer, she had already turned and headed back toward her bedroom. Reluctantly, I plodded into the living room. As much as I enjoyed Jane's company, being there with her hurt more than I thought it would. I plunked myself down on her oversized couch and waited for her to return.

  If anyone could light up a room, it was Jane. Even though I was feeling low and close to tears knowing we soon would likely never see each other again, she still managed to make me smile.

  “It's nice to see you smile,” Jane said, smiling warmly herself and reaching over to pat my hand.

  I looked down at my hands, her warm, plump hand with its neatly manicured nails, rested on top of mine. I curled my fingers under, still embarrassed by their ragged look.

  “I have something for you!” she said, clearly enthusiastic.

  I looked up at her smiling face, her brightly coloured wardrobe reflected her mood. For the first time, I noticed she had changed into a bright yellow blouse and a floral print skirt. She reached into the flowing skirt's pockets and pulled out a small green box neatly tied up with a silver ribbon. When I didn't move to take the box she used her free hand to take mine and pressed the box into it.

  I looked down at the small box in my hand and back up at her smiling face. She reminded me of an excited child, I half expected her to bounce up and down on the couch, clapping her hands, and saying 'Open it! Open it!”

  “Go ahead, love, open it.” She gently pushed my hand back toward me.

  I looked back down at the small gift and carefully untied the ribbon, lifted off the box cover, and placed it on the coffee table. I peeled back the layers of white tissue, finally revealing the box's contents. Carefully, I lifted the silver chain and watched as its small pendant swung back and forth. I reached up with my other hand and held the pendant still, examining it.

  “It's a Celtic knot,” Jane went on to explain, “for eternity”

  “It's beautiful!” I exclaimed looking at the intricate detail as each knot circled and bound itself to the next, like a circle there was no end and no beginning. “It looks old.”

  “Oh it is, dear. It belonged to Kate and before that, Aaron's paternal grandmother.”

  I looked up at Jane's face with my mouth agape. I stretched out my hand toward her, the pendant swinging wildly back and forth.

  “I can't take this,” I cried, shocked that she would be giving it to me. Did she not know about Aaron and me?

  “Yes you can, dear.” Jane reached out and touched the pendant with her finger stopping it from its wild swinging.

  “But it belongs to Aaron.” I argued.

  “No, love, it belongs to you. Aaron wanted you to have it.”

  She surely mustn't know about us. I opened my mouth to explain but Jane cut me short with an explanation of her own.

  “Aaron asked me to give this to you.”

  I closed my mouth and pulled my hand back, relaxing it in my lap, still clinging to the chain. “You don't understand,” I said looking down at my closed fist; I could feel the chain neatly tucked away in my grasp. Tears began to well up in my eyes, but I did nothing to stop them. Then when my lids couldn't hold them back any longer, I let them spill over the edge, not even bothering to wipe them away.

  “Yes dear, I do.” Jane's voice was kind and empathetic. “Aaron asked me to give it to you last night.”

  “What?” I said looking up at Jane's face, the remaining tears dripping from my cheek.

  “I've been in London the past couple of days, visiting. He told me of your circumstances and asked if I would give this to you. He said it might mean something to you.”

  I opened my hand and looked at the pendant again. Eternity – I smiled. “Thank you.” I leaned over and gave Jane a hug, by the time I finished; she too had tears in her eyes.

  We visited a bit longer, neither one of us bringing up Aaron. By the time I got up to leave, I had agreed to join her for dinner on my last night.

  I had waited impatiently all week for Sunday to arrive, but when it did I was sad to see it come. I wished that I had spent my last week saying goodbye to the friends I'd made in Bourton instead of wallowing in self-pity.

  I crawled out of bed slowly, showered and dressed. Jane had invited me for breakfast, as there wasn't anything left in the apartment to eat. Grabbing what little groceries I had packed in bags the night before; I headed down to her place and quietly knocked on the door. Seconds later, the door opened and Peter greeted me smiling widely.

  “Peter!” I exclaimed, “I didn't expect you here just yet!” I placed the bags in his outstretched hands and closed the door behind me.

  “Since I was coming out to bring you to the airport anyway, I thought I might as well come out for breakfast, too,” he explained as he headed toward the kitchen, the plastic bags dangling from his hands.

  “Breakfast is ready!” Jane called from the dining table.

  I headed into the dining room and sat beside Jane. When Peter returned from the kitchen, he seated himself across from me. Heaviness filled the air, surrounding us. Whether it was because of that heaviness or not, no one spoke a single word during breakfast. The only sounds came from the cutlery on the plates or the clunking of glasses as they were set back down on the table. Finally, I broke the silence, laying my knife and fork down on my plate.

  “Ahem!” My throat felt thick with emotion. “I just wanted to say…” I cleared my throat again, and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say that I feel very blessed to have met you – all of you.” The tightness returned again. I picked up my cup and drank what was left of my tea; the warm, soothing liquid coated my throat. I could feel both Peter and Jane's eyes upon me. Neither of them spoke as they waited patiently for me to finish. “I truly have never felt more welcome by anyone in my entire life.” My eyes burned with tears, but I managed to blink them back before continuing. “I will never forget your hospitality,” I smiled at Jane and reached out to grab her hand, “or your friendship.” I reached across the table with my other hand for Peter's; he met me half way with his own warm grasp. “I hope someday I can return the favour.” A tear escaped. “Thank you, I will never forget it.” I released their hands as my voice broke and more tears fell from my eyes. Jane handed me some tissues that she had in her apron pocket.

  “Don't worry, dear, they're clean,” she said dabbing at her eyes with a tissue of her own.

  “Okay ladies, I do believe it's time –” Peter smiled, though his eyes looked a little wet.

  “You're wearing it!” Jane interrupted.

  “I don't think I'll ever take it off.” I said, gently playing with the pendant that hung from my neck.

  “We really should be on our way.” Peter
reminded us.

  I hugged Jane, and we said our tearful goodbyes. “Oh, I have something.” I reached into my pocked and grabbed a crumpled piece of paper. “I never did get a chance to say bye to a few people. Would you mind doing it for me?” I placed the list in Jane's hand.

  “Of course, dear.” She smiled, putting the list in her apron pocket.

  “My contact information is there, too. I'd be happy to hear from anyone.”

  Jane smiled and nodded. “Of course,” she whispered. “You better get going.” She ushered us to the door.

  “Bye, Jane, thank you for everything.”

  Peter and I headed up to the apartment, grabbed my bags, and made sure I hadn't forgotten anything.

  “Ready?” he asked my suitcases in his hands.

  I took one last look around, committing my lovely home-away-from-home apartment to memory.

  “Ready,” I said my voice breaking; I cleared my throat.

  The drive to the airport was long and quiet. I watched the passing scenery, towns, and villages and silently wished them all goodbye.

  Forty-Seven

  Peter and I walked silently from the parking lot into the terminal. It felt like a dream. People distorted, objects blurred, sounds muffled and memories faded. I felt sure I would soon be waking up.

  “Well,” he said, “I guess this is as far as I can go.” He stopped abruptly and set my bags down on a nearby cart.

  I shook my head and stared at him blankly, realizing I wasn't asleep.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I nervously looked around.

  Peter reached over and took me in his arms. “You take care of yourself.”

  “I will.”

  “He loves you, you know, and he understands.”

  I nodded, determined not to cry, but it was too late, the tears flowed freely. I pulled away. “I'm going to get your shirt all wet,” I said, brushing his shoulder.

  “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…” Peter looked at me; it was easy to see the pity in his eyes.

  “Don't be. It's okay.” I absently rubbed the pendant that hung from my neck between my fingers.

  “Okay, have a safe flight, and keep in touch.” Peter leaned over and kissed my forehead.

  I closed my eyes, remembering how Aaron used to do that, only his kisses left an invisible mark.

  “I will. Take care.” I hugged him once more and before the tears could flow again, I turned, pushing my bags towards the check-in area.

  Once through security control, my luggage checked, I sat in the departure lounge and watched the monitor for boarding. Nervously, I looked around again. Finally, after about an hour, it was time to board the plane. I grabbed my carry-on and proceeded through the gate. Memories from another time flashed through my mind, a frightened and heartbroken Mary waiting to see Thomas one final time.

  The attendant looked at my ticket and pointed out my seat. I waited patiently as passengers ahead of me placed their carry-ons in the overhead compartments and when I reached my seat, it was my turn to hold-up the passengers behind me.

  I felt like I was in a fog as I sat in my window seat and made the necessary adjustments. I busied myself staring out the window at the ground crew below as they prepared the plane for take-off. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the window feeling the coolness of the glass. It felt good against my aching head.

  “Excuse me; miss, would you like a pillow.” A dark haired attendant, holding out a small blue pillow, interrupted my thoughts.

  “Yes, thank you.” I reached out, grabbed the pillow, placed it against the window, and closed my eyes. I sensed the other passengers had taken up their seats beside me, but I was in no mood for conversation. Within minutes, I felt myself drifting off; the sleep was both welcoming and threatening.

  As my body and mind slowly drifted deeper into the abyss, the beginnings of a strange dream began trickling in. I tried waking before it took hold, but my exhaustion took control and a painful memory began playing through my mind.

  Wake-up! My voice silently called from a distance, lost in a fog of swirling and intertwined memories.

  The distant sound of a flight attendant going over emergency procedures briefly filtered through. The line between the conscious and the unconscious blurred, and I found myself teetering back and forth between one side and the other. I had to fight to stay awake, if sleep took hold; more memories would come flooding back. My exhaustion, however, was strong and kept me from breaking free, again I felt myself falling back. The dreams were getting stronger and becoming more difficult to push away.

  Suddenly, my ears were filled with the muffled voices of passengers. There was snug pressure across my lap and I was reminded of the seat belt. I moved my head slightly and my cheek rubbed against the soft pillow. I had escaped. The warmth of a hand caressed my cheek and a smile stretched across my mouth. I stirred and turned my head toward the hand, my eyes wide open.

  “Hello, sleepyhead.” He smiled and his eyes sparkled.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Shall I go?” he asked, moving to stand.

  “NO!” I looked around as others stared at me. “No,” I whispered. My heart pounded, and I was sure if I looked at my chest I would see it.

  “I can't live without you.”

  I stared at Aaron in disbelief before finally finding my voice. “How did you…”

  “Peter.”

  “What?”

  “Peter told me you'd switched your flight. I guess fate really is on our side. Look, I'm even supposed to be sitting here.” He smiled brilliantly, holding out the ticket to show me his seat number.

  He couldn't look anymore handsome if he tried. My heart was melting, and all the sadness I was feeling melted away with it.

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  I knew I looked silly, a Cheshire grin pasted on my face, but I couldn't help it. Aaron was with me, and I was so happy. “I'm so happy you're here.” I gushed.

  “Miss?” I heard the voice, but chose to ignore it. I couldn't be sure if it was directed at me; I didn't care if it was. My focus was solely on Aaron. “Miss!” This time the voice sounded more impatient and came with the light shaking of my arm.

  Startled, I raised my head and sat up, realizing for the first time that the voice came from the passenger beside me. My head had been resting on his shoulder.

  “I… I'm sorry.” I stammered, embarrassed and still dazed.

  Confusion set in as I wondered if I was truly awake and if Aaron was a dream or was it that Aaron was real and the man beside me was a dream. I rolled my head back toward the window. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks as my mind became clear, this was no dream.

  Forty-Eight

  The first couple of weeks of school went well enough, I had spent my first day back tirelessly working on a lesson plan and preparing my classroom. When I wasn't staying after school, working on the following day's lesson, I helped my mother with her wedding plans or visited with friends. Keeping busy was my newest habit, anything that kept me from going home until I had to – anything that passed the time. On weekends, I devoted my time to housework, and the moment it was completed, I left in search of other things to occupy my day.

  I had become better at acting, lying – being poker faced. I kept my emotions in check when I spent time with my friends and family. I even managed to fool my mother, though she was busy with her wedding plans. I was doing a good job keeping up the façade of happiness.

  Sleep had become my only refuge from the long days; I had given in to my memories. Whether new or old, happy or sad, dreams of Mary and Thomas filled my nights, even Aaron appeared occasionally, and I wished I never had to wake. They were all I dreamed of, all I wanted to dream of, and I couldn't wait to get back to them each night, even if waking saddened me every morning.

  As the end of September loomed, I'd adapted to my new life. My mother and I grew closer as her wedding date approached. Although I didn't share with her my true feelings about Aaron and the sense of l
oss I felt, I was able to share other feelings, including telling her that I had no intention of going on any blind dates with anyone. She was determined to find me a date for her wedding, even going as far as including a plus one for me on her guest list. I couldn't imagine being with anyone, not now – not ever.

  “I didn't realize you were so talented.”

  His eyes widened and he smiled crookedly. “Oh! You didn't?”

  I laughed. “You know what I mean.”

  “Do I?” He always loved teasing me that way and I didn't mind, it brought a light-heartedness to our relationship. I playfully slapped his arm.“Be careful now, you might make the pencil slip and you'll end up with a wall where you don't want one.” He sat back from the drawing on his desk.

  I leaned over his shoulder and examined the floor plan he'd just completed. “It's perfect! When can we start building?”

  “Right now.” Aaron stood up and took me by the hand, leading me out the door.

  We walked down a dirt road, trees lining the route as we strolled along. The air filled with the sound of chirping birds; a warm breeze gently blew through my hair. As we rounded a bend, the sound of hammering filled my ears, and the smell of fresh cut timbers wafted through the air.

  “Is that ours?” I pointed to the frame of a house on a large treed lot.

  Aaron wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “Ours, forever.”

  The workers continued their hammering, unaware of our presence.

  My eyes fluttered open, another night gone, another dream behind me, and another day to get through until I could return to the few hours of happiness sleep brought. I stared up at the ceiling trying to recall the dream, hoping to fall back to sleep and continue the story I'd written for myself. My mind had become very accomplished at making dreams go the way I wanted them to. I closed my eyes and drowsily rolled over, hoping the sound of knocking from outside would spark a memory and return me to my dream.

  My eyes popped open again as I realized the knocking was at the front door. I slowly climbed from bed and grabbed my robe from the back of the door. The knock came again.