Katherine's Prophecy

by Scott Wittenburg

  “Are you feeling ill?”

  “Oh no, I’m fine, Miss Rutledge. It’s just a little warm in here.”

  “I’ve complained incessantly about that. They seem to think we’re all going to freeze to death if it gets below eighty degrees in this place!”

  Lenny managed a weak laugh and winked at Emily then stood up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. He left the room.

  As he fled through the hall to the lobby, Lenny fished nervously in his shirt pocket for a cigarette. Once outside, he ran over to one of the benches overlooking the nursing home grounds and slumped down in it. His hands shook involuntarily as he lit up a cigarette and stared blankly at the nondescript landscape.

  His worse fears were confirmed. As he’d anticipated would happen, Clem Porter’s wedding band had triggered another flashback.

  But, he thought, that still didn’t necessarily confirm that he had been Clem Porter in the flashback. Both flashbacks had been sort of dark and vague, and his wife had been only a face—a face with no name. And he had absolutely no idea what Nancy Porter looked like. Nor did Emily, for that matter.

  And then there had been the baby—another unrecognizable face. The baby had been his daughter, no doubt the same child his wife had been pregnant with in the first flashback. Both he and his wife had been in bed, naked, and about to make love. The baby started crying. It was his turn to change her diaper; apparently they’d taken turns at this little chore. His wife had teased him about it: “Katie needs her daddy—”

  It hit him like a ton of bricks: Katie . . !

  A name!

  Short for Katherine? Lenny thought. Yes, of course it was . . . But not once had anyone referred to Emily’s grandmother as “Katie.” Not even her lifelong friend, Miss Rutledge.

  Still, this seemed more than just a little coincidental . . .

  Lenny’s thoughts returned to the flashback. He’d gone over to the crib to change the baby’s diaper. He’d noticed something unusual about the baby . . . She had a birthmark on her butt—three tiny little dots forming a nearly perfect equilateral triangle. He was in awe of this birthmark—not only because of its unique configuration, but because he found it hard to believe that his daughter had . . .

  The exact same birthmark as he himself had!

  Holy Christ!

  Katie was definitely his baby in the flashback—no doubt about that! And if Katie was Katherine, then he had been Clem, and that could only mean that . . .

  Emily’s problems were over!

  Gotta get back, he thought. Gotta find out the truth. Gotta confirm everything . . .

  Lenny had a broad grin on his face as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, stomped it out, took three steps then suddenly stopped himself dead in his tracks.

  How was he ever going to explain this if it was true? he thought. And who on God’s Green Earth would ever believe him?

  You’ve got to be kidding!

  Hell, he was having enough trouble believing it himself!

  First thing’s first, he decided. Confirm everything and then figure out how to deal with it.

  Lenny went back into the nursing home, his mind racing ahead at warp speed. When he entered Miss Rutledge’s room, Emily was in the process of telling her how they’d met—the second time—at the hospital. He went over and sat down beside her.

  “You feel any better?” Emily asked.

  “Yeah, much better.”

  “Emily tells me that you had quite an accident,” Miss Rutledge said to him. “It sounds as though you should feel lucky to still be alive, from the way she described it.”

  Lenny said, “I took a real spill, that’s for sure. The doctor told me if it weren’t for my head being so hard, I would have been a goner.”

  Emily and Miss Rutledge both laughed. “I don’t suppose he was referring to your stubbornness was he?” Emily teased.

  “I’m not really sure, now that you mention it,” Lenny replied with a grin.

  “Well, all I can say is that you’re a very fortunate young man,” Miss Rutledge declared. “To be in a coma that long and come out of it with all your faculties intact is nothing short of a miracle. God’s work, it was.”

  “I do feel very lucky—in more ways than one,” Lenny said, glimpsing at Emily.

  “What went through your mind when the taxi cab hit you? Or do you remember?” Miss Rutledge asked.

  Lenny thought back. That particular moment was still fuzzy in his memory, he realized. He could remember flying through the air and seeing the pavement just before he landed. He could even make out the cracks in perfect detail. Then he’d landed, his head smashing against the pavement.

  Then he’d regained consciousness, lying flat on his back in a creek bed . . .

  “Lenny?”

  Lenny’s heart skipped a beat.

  He looked at Emily. “Huh?”

  “Do you remember?” She was staring at him oddly.

  Lenny looked over at Miss Rutledge. “Oh yeah. Well, I . . . I sort of remember it. It’s still kind of blurry.”

  Miss Rutledge said: “It’s probably something you don’t particularly want to talk about, I reckon.”

  Lenny shook his head, feeling a little dizzy. “Not really.”

  “I’m sorry, Lenny. I shouldn’t have asked such a hare- brained question,” she said, showing regret for having brought the subject up.

  “No, it’s okay, Miss Rutledge,” he said. “I . . . I think my mind was elsewhere when you asked me, that’s all.”

  “What’s wrong, Lenny?” asked Emily.

  “Oh, nothing’s wrong. I was just curious about something . . .”

  He turned to Miss Rutledge.

  “Did Katherine ever go by the name of Katie, by any chance? You know, when she was younger, growing up?”

  Miss Rutledge appeared to be perplexed by the question. She thought for a moment then replied, “It’s really quite odd that you should ask that, Lenny. My mother once told me that Katherine’s mother and father had both called her Katie on the few occasions that she’d seen the child. But for some reason, and I’ve never really known why, John Hoffman absolutely insisted on calling her Katherine once my mother had taken her in. Katherine was her legally given name, he pointed out, and he said that he preferred Katherine over Katie—that it sounded more ‘elegant.’ In fact, John would get so riled up whenever someone called her Katie that everyone ended up calling her Katherine just to avoid his scorn . . . But why do you ask, Lenny?” the old woman inquired suspiciously, peering intently into his eyes.

  Lenny could feel Emily’s eyes on him as well.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s just that ‘Katherine’ seems so, uh, formal,” he hedged. “I guess it just seems a little weird to me that no one ever called her by a shortened version; like Kathy, Kate, or whatever.”

  Lenny knew this excuse sounded completely idiotic, but he didn’t care. Now he knew.

  One more hurdle to go . . .

  Emily stared at Miss Rutledge, “How come you never told me about this?”

  “It must have slipped my mind,” was the elderly lady’s reply.

  Emily asked, “Why do you suppose that my great-grandfather seemed so adamantly opposed to calling Grandma ‘Katie’, as Clem and Nancy had?”

  Miss Rutledge shook her head and frowned. “I have no idea, dear. But this was quite typical of John Hoffman. He often did things that seemed to have no apparent rhyme or reason. And it didn’t matter if what he did made sense or not, because only a fool would dare challenge him—he always managed to gain the upper hand on everything. Your great-grandfather was a tyrant in many ways. If he wanted something his way, he usually got it.”

  “But it was so unfair of him!” Emily protested. “The least he could have done was respect Grandma’s name, for crying out loud!”

  Lenny could see that Emily was getting upset. He put his arm around her comfortingly. “It’s all right, honey.”

  Emily’s anger abated. “I’m sorry I got
carried away. It’s just that . . . I hate him so much!”

  Miss Rutledge seemed taken aback by Emily’s sudden outpouring of emotion but remained silent. Emily looked over at her apologetically. “I know that ‘hate’ is an awfully strong word, but I can’t help it. I despise John Hoffman for what all he did.”

  “You needn’t make any excuses, sweetie. I understand. He was a loathsome man at times.”

  There was a long moment of silence. Emily turned to Lenny and said under her breath, so Miss Rutledge couldn’t hear, “May I have a cigarette?”

  Lenny cast Emily a bewildered look then nodded. While Miss Rutledge wasn’t looking, he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and slipped it into Emily’s hand.

  “I’m feeling a little warm myself, now.” she told Miss Rutledge. “I think I’ll go get some air.”

  “Want me to come along?” Lenny asked, crossing his fingers.

  “No, that’s okay. You stay here with Miss Rutledge,” she replied. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She stood up then left the room.

  Lenny knew he had to work quickly and carefully. He looked over at Miss Rutledge. “Emily told me about her grandmother’s unusual birthmark. I once did a theme paper in college on genetics and heredity, and was surprised to learn that birthmarks can actually be hereditary traits passed on from parents to their offspring. This is going to sound like a weird question, I realize, but do you by any chance know if either John Hoffman or Clem Porter had an unusual birthmark of any kind? Similar to Katie’s—I mean Katherine’s, perhaps?”

  It was ludicrous and a huge gamble, he knew; but what the hell?

  Miss Rutledge cast Lenny a startled look as if she’d just seen a ghost and the color went from her face. She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to choose her words before answering him.

  But before she could reply, Lenny said, “I realize that this may be a little embarrassing for you, Miss Rutledge, and if I’ve offended you, I’m sorry. It’s just that I want to help Emily in any way I can, and when she mentioned the birthmark I sort of got this idea. And even though it’s a long shot, I thought it might be worth at least asking you about since you had all but lived with John Hoffman and your mother had known the Porters’ so well. I guess what I’m getting suggesting is that maybe we could determine which man was Katherine’s biological father by some kind of physical evidence—such as this birthmark. Not much to go on, really, I realize.”

  Miss Rutledge looked at Lenny suspiciously and said, “Did you tell Emily that you were going to ask me this?”

  Lenny felt the sweat in his palms. “Uh, no. In fact, I was sort of hoping that we could keep this confidential. It might upset her that I asked you behind her back.”

  Miss Rutledge remained silent and continued staring at him. Finally, a faint smile came to her face.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, Lenny. My lips are sealed. As to your question, the answer is: I don’t know. My mother never mentioned anything about Clem having any unusual birthmarks; and as for John Hoffman, I don’t recall him having any unusual birthmarks, from what I could see. But of course, I could never be completely certain,” she added, her face turning red.

  Lenny tried to appear disappointed. “I see. Well, it was worth a shot anyway.”

  Yes! Lenny thought to himself. Although Miss Rutledge by now considered him a total idiot, at least he’d managed to get it out of her. Katie had indeed had an unusual birthmark. And taking into account the “personal area” it had been, was it any wonder why Miss Rutledge had been embarrassed when he’d asked if she’d know either man to have had an identical birthmark?

  This sealed it. He now knew that not only had he been Clem Porter in his past life; but Clem Porter had also been Katherine’s biological father.

  But convincing Emily of this would be difficult at best; if not altogether impossible. After all, he was basing this unbelievable claim on a totally unbelievable premise in the first place. All of this information had been obtained by means of a series of mental flashbacks that were now occurring as a result of his wearing the wedding band that had once belonged to his former incarnation . . .

  Emily will never buy this, he thought. In fact, no one in his right mind would buy it.

  Just gonna have to play it by ear . . .

  CHAPTER 24

  After Emily and Lenny had left, Dorothy Rutledge lay in bed fidgeting nervously with the jewelry box that she held in her hand. From the very moment Emily’s boyfriend had asked her about Katherine’s name, she’d grown leery of him. The question itself was odd enough; why in the world was he so curious about her name in the first place? She had asked herself. Never once had she mentioned to Emily that Katherine had been referred to as “Katie” by Clem and Nancy Porter; yet here was this young man, a virtual stranger, suddenly inquiring about it.

  Then there had been the absurd excuse he’d made for asking—how had he put it? Because “Katherine” seemed so “formal?” Fiddlesticks! Why would he give a tinker’s dam what Katherine had been called, formal or otherwise? It had made absolutely no sense at all.

  But then came the stopper. When he’d inquired about Katherine’s birthmark, she had known for certain that there was a whole lot more to Lenny Williams than met the eye . . .

  Because she had never told Emily about her birthmark!

  Yet somehow Lenny Williams had known about it. And there was no way in creation that he could have known about it, unless . . .

  Dorothy recalled Katherine’s final words, and realized now that her best friend hadn’t been delirious after all. In fact, she’d been in rare form as she proceeded to foretell the future with uncanny accuracy. For not only had Katherine known that she would someday have a granddaughter who might have good use for her parents’ wedding bands, she had also managed to impart the prophecy that Clem Porter would come back someday, and that he would pay a visit on her granddaughter.

  Clem Porter had indeed come back—in the form of Lenny Williams.

  CHAPTER 25

  It was past ten when Emily and Lenny left the nursing home. Both were silent as they traversed the parking lot and got into the bus.

  “Would you like to tell me what you and Miss Rutledge talked about while I was out of the room?” Emily asked Lenny as she started the engine.

  Lenny looked at her innocently and replied, “Nothing in particular.”

  “Well, her attitude sure seemed to change after I came back. She seemed different somehow . . . Like she knew something that I didn’t,” she declared suspiciously.

  “I didn’t notice. All I can say is that it was all small talk; nothing important.”

  “You aren’t lying to me, are you?”

  Yes, Lenny thought to himself, I am. But I have to. “No . . . Honest!”

  “You didn’t discuss my grandmother’s last words; or tell Miss Rutledge about my nightmares?”

  “No,” he replied flatly.

  “I have a funny feeling about all of this,” Emily declared with uncertainty. “I didn’t want to appear to be overreacting when Miss Rutledge told us about Grandma Katherine’s last words, but I thought that it was absolutely eerie. Especially Katherine’s prediction that her father would be coming back to ‘save’ her granddaughter, who is obviously me. Remember the dream I had last night? How Clem Porter suddenly appeared and saved me from John Hoffman? Isn’t that just a little too coincidental?”

  Lenny wanted to tell Emily everything now, but he couldn’t. It was all going to have to wait. “It’s weird, I have to admit. But don’t forget that who you thought to be Clem Porter had in essence been me.”

  “I know,” Emily nodded. “But you said that was because I didn’t have a face to give Clem, since I’ve never known what he looked like. Maybe it really was Clem—his spirit or soul, or whatever you’d call it—even though I subconsciously gave him your face.”

  Lenny smiled enthusiastically. “Then there you have it! Clem’s come back and you don�
�t have to worry about the nightmares anymore—just as your grandmother predicted!”

  Emily heaved a long, exasperated sigh. “I wish I could believe that, Lenny; but it’s just not that simple. Besides, I still don’t know the truth.”

  “Maybe you do know the truth!” Lenny persisted. “You saw the three of them together, right? Clem, Nancy, and Katie. That, along with Katherine’s prophecy should be all the convincing you need!”

  Emily shrugged and fell silent for a moment. Then she gazed questioningly at Lenny. “Why in the world did you ask Miss Rutledge if Grandma Katherine had ever been called Katie?”

  Lenny tried to sound convincing. “I was just curious. It was a dumb question, really. But I’ve been notorious for asking dumb questions all my life.”

  Emily was still doubtful, he could tell. But she seemed willing to drop the subject for the time being as she backed out of the parking space and said, “I could use some coffee. You want to stop somewhere before we head back?”

  “Sure . . . Maybe there’s a McDonalds nearby.”

  “I think there’s one near the highway.”

  Lenny nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Emily pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road then glanced at Lenny’s hand, a playful grin on her face. “How come you haven’t taken the ring off?”

  Lenny replied, “Probably for the same reason you haven’t taken yours off. As far as I’m concerned, we’re already married.”

  Emily smiled broadly. “Ditto, for me.”

  Lenny wormed his way out of his jacket. “It’s getting downright warm in here.”

  “It sure is. Can you give me a hand with mine?”

  Lenny leaned over and helped Emily off with her coat, pecking her on the cheek as he did so.

  Moments later they found a McDonalds located near the access road to the highway. Emily pulled into the drive-thru and they ordered two coffees. As they pulled away, Lenny took a sip of his coffee and stared pensively out the window.

  He had experienced three more flashbacks since the first one involving Katie’s birthmark. The first had been very brief—more of a fragment than an episode. He recalled lying in a creek bed, flat on his back, with his head feeling as though it had been hit with a sledgehammer.