Rememberers

by C. Edward Baldwin

  “Have you heard from Madame Isabel?” he asked.

  “No, why?”

  “I went to see her this weekend. She's gone missing.”

  “What do you mean she's gone missing?”

  He didn't answer her question. “How much do you know about her?”

  “Only what I've told you. But what do you mean by missing?”

  “Exactly that. On Sunday I went to see her. Her husband came to the door, looking devastated. Before I could open my mouth, he practically screamed at me, ‘Where is my wife?’ Then he started rambling on and on about how he'd only been gone a little while running errands, leaving her working in her garden, and when he got back she was nowhere to be found. He didn't know where she could have gone. And since they only owned the one truck, he didn't believe she could have gotten far.”

  “Wow!” Kallie said softly.

  Josh continued, “Nothing was out of the ordinary in the house. All her belongings were still there. There was no sign of a struggle. It was as if she'd disappeared into the thin air. Her husband was so distraught I had to drive him to the police department to file the missing person report.”

  “He didn't have to wait forty-eight hours?”

  “No, that's only a television myth.”

  “What did the police do?”

  “After the report was filed, they took us back to the house. They searched it and the surrounding area. After a couple of hours and no trace of Madame Isabel, they took the husband and me back to the station and interviewed us.”

  “They interviewed you? Why?”

  “They wanted to know how I knew Madame Isabel, except they didn't call her that. Her real name is Bella Mae Raiden. They also wanted to know how I happened to show up on the very day she goes missing.”

  Her eyes squinted slightly. “Why were you there?”

  “Eternal return,” he said. “I told you that I needed to research it further. Well, that research led me to Madame Isabel. Of course, I didn't tell the police that. I told them that I'd wanted my palm read and heard on the internet that she was the best in the business. That was partially true. While researching eternal return I eventually found myself in a chat room where I learned a lot of interesting things about Madame Isabel.”

  “Like what?”

  His head tilted back a little, looking curiously at her over the bridge of his nose as if either he was unsure of how much to tell her, or how much she really wanted to know. “Madame Isabel was a high priestess.”

  “Like in a church?”

  “Not exactly. I don't think she's affiliated formally with a particular church or religion. I guess you could say that she's into Christian mysticism. Supposedly, she'd written a book that she claimed had been dictated to her by spirits or angels. She called it, The Book of Origins. But I was unable to locate anyone who has actually seen the book.”

  “You sound skeptical,” Kallie said.

  “I'm always skeptical.”

  “Yet, you went to see her. So, a part of you evidently is hopeful that the book exists.”

  He eyed her carefully but didn't say anything. She sensed that he had more to say but evidently had decided not to. She wasn't going to push it. Initially, she'd thought this little confab would include him professing his feelings for her despite whatever was going on between her and Seth. Feeling some relief that that hadn't been the case, she wasn't about to trade one complication for another. Whether Madame Isabel was a priestess or not was of no immediate concern to her. For the moment, she had enough religious figures in her life.

  His gaze was suddenly averted away from her and to the area behind her. She turned her head and saw Maggie and Veronica coming towards them. Powder room time, she thought, realizing that the restrooms were located at the end of this corridor.

  “I'm sorry about your friend,” Josh said. “I know you wanted me and her to hit it off.”

  She turned back to face him. “Actually I just wanted her to meet somebody,” she lied. “I guess Cedric qualifies as a 'somebody.'”

  He laughed. “Almost always.”

  She smiled momentarily before her thoughts involuntarily turned back to Madame Isabel. “What do you think happened to her?”

  “Madame Isabel? I don't know,” Josh said.

  “If she was this high priestess, maybe she went off for solitude. She might have gone off to add to that book of origins that you were talking about.” It was a possibility albeit an unlikely one. Kallie had met Madame Isabel's husband. She was certain that he'd be aware of any of his wife's planned moments of solitude, especially any of a measurable length of time.

  “I thought about that,” Josh said. “And hopefully that's the case. But, I guess we'll just have to wait and see.” After Maggie and Veronica approached, he tipped an imaginary hat. “Ladies.”

  “Gentleman,” Veronica and Maggie said in unison and watched him as he walked past them, heading back to their table.

  Maggie rubbed her two index fingers together, mimicking a childhood ritual. “Josh and Kallie sitting in a tree. Josh and Kallie, K-I-S-S….”

  Kallie cut her off. “Rather juvenile, don't you think?”

  Maggie laughed. “Yeah, but it's still very funny.”

  The trio entered the restroom and Maggie immediately commandeered the only unoccupied stall, forcing Kallie and Veronica to share the remaining open space in front of the wall-length mirror. Since she wasn't wearing any makeup, Kallie feigned making minor adjustments to her facial appearance. She was actually watching through the mirror for a stall to open up behind her.

  Veronica reapplied her lipstick and then looked at Kallie's reflection in the mirror. “You're very pretty.”

  “Uh, thank you,” Kallie said. “So are you.”

  “Thank you,” Veronica said and then hesitated. “Listen, I hope you don't harbor any ill feelings towards me about the whole privacy thing.”

  Meeting Veronica's gaze from her reflection in the mirror, Kallie said, “No, I don't.”

  Veronica smiled. “Good. I know my uncle can be overzealous at times. But he's harmless, unless of course you're a terrorist. But seriously, he really is easy to talk to.”

  Kallie looked at her fixedly. “Did your uncle put you up to this?”

  Veronica's face turned a noticeable shade of red, almost matching the color of her lipstick. “Put me up to what?”

  “Come off it, Veronica,” Kallie said strongly. “I figured your uncle wouldn't give up so easily. He was pretty insistent the last time. Did he put you up to this?”

  Momentarily caught off guard by Kallie's steely glare and sharp tone, it took a moment for Veronica to regain her composure. “No, he did not,” she finally managed to say. “I'm genuinely sorry about what happened.”

  After staring into the other girl's eyes for what seemed like forever, Kallie's expression and tone softened. “Look, I'm sorry for that and I don't blame you for what happened. I know your uncle probably put you in an awkward situation.” She stuck out her hand. “Friends.”

  Veronica smiled and took her hand. “Friends.”

  Just then, Maggie's stall-door opened and Kallie quickly turned on her heels and darted past her into the stall. “Beat cha.”

  Veronica laughed, but a blonde-haired girl who'd also been waiting patiently for a toilet to open up stared shock-faced at the closed stall door and looked as if she could spit nails through it, right into the body of its most recent occupant.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sunday was women's day at New Vibe Community Church. It was an annual event that the church used to celebrate and honor its fairer sex, and in recognition of it and despite the fact that the color was out of season, most of the women wore white.

  Swag stood at the altar, nodding his head agreeably as he looked upon his congregation. “Look at our beautiful women. Fashion experts call it a cardinal sin to wear white in October. But we don't adhere to what the so-called experts say here at New Vibe, do we? No, we buck tradition here. Yes, it's g
etting a little chilly outside. Yes, Labor Day is long gone, but white looks good on you. Turn to one of your neighbors and say, white looks good on you.”

  As Swag was talking, Kallie and Seth entered the sanctuary and took their seats on a middle pew. After Kallie sat down, the pretty twenty-something year old girl sitting next to her turned to her and repeated Swag's line, and then she and Kallie both smiled awkwardly. Kallie's dress was yellow.

  Seth squeezed her hand and mouthed. “You look good in any color.”

  Kallie's eyes twinkled. “Thank you.”

  The sanctuary had been adorned with several kinds of flowers and smelled like a springtime garden. Orchids traced along the walls. Bouquets of white Casa Blanca lilies were situated at the ends of each pew. Up front, Swag, wearing a white suit himself, seemed to be standing in the middle of a gardenia garden.

  Thirty minutes later, Swag began his sermon and it soon became very clear to Kallie why the church and the man were so popular. His voice was melodic, almost hypnotic. His sermon was something about the significance of the woman in God's kingdom and how she had the power and responsibility to uplift man. But to Kallie, it wasn't necessarily what he was saying. It was his voice. His tone was soothing and his delivery was so smooth that he could have just as well been talking about the benefits of having green grass.

  For a moment, she could have sworn that Swag was staring into her eyes, talking directly to her. She felt a strange feeling swirling inside herself. She swallowed hard. Seth was sitting to her right, so she looked left. The girl sitting on her left was also watching Swag intently. Kallie looked around the sanctuary and saw that all the women were watching Swag intently. She felt foolish. No doubt every woman in the place was thinking that Swag was talking to her directly. They were hanging on his every word. Facing front again, she remembered the other night. Swag hadn't sounded much different from what he did now. Yet, she'd thought then that he'd tried to seduce her. Now she felt silly for having thought such a thing. Why would Swag want her romantically? He was helping her to remember, to develop her gift. He'd had a job to do. Besides, there were six years between them and he was a man of the cloth. More than that, he was a worldly man and she felt almost childlike in his presence. She turned and looked at Seth and suddenly realized why Seth had wanted to come here today. She'd spent so much time with Swag last week that Seth obviously wanted to see if something was developing between the two of them. It wasn't a thing to ask her about. It was something he'd needed to see for himself. But little did Seth know it was something that she'd needed to see for herself as well. Now she was satisfied that nothing unusual had occurred the other night. She laid her hand atop Seth's hands as they rested on his lap, squeezing them gently.

  * * *

  It happened toward the end of service during the call for new souls to seek redemption and the Savior, and join the New Vibe family. At first, Kallie felt unfazed by it. After all, at this point the déjà vu sensations were no longer new and unusual. She'd gotten used to them and rather expected them. It was the intensity and scope of this latest one that finally gave her pause. She looked helplessly at Seth. But he had his eyes closed. She looked beyond him and all around her. Everyone's eyes were closed. Of course, they were praying. Swag had just said for everyone to bow their heads, close their eyes, and pray to God to give anyone who may be on the fence, the strength and courage to step forward into a new life.

  She felt herself being pulled away from her body and into a tunnel of kaleidoscopic colors. Around and around she went, spinning uncontrollably. She felt nauseous, as if she was getting ready to throw up. She heaved. It was dry and empty. Then mercifully, she was at the end of the tunnel and the spinning stopped.

  She was no longer sitting in a pew at New Vibe Community Church. She was now standing in a building. She saw large chrome-plated lettering on the wall behind and above a huge U-curved desk. The letters spelled United Corporate Bank Center. She was standing in the bank's lobby. A bored security officer sat at the desk. He yawned twice back-to-back as he indifferently watched the monitors before him. Behind her, the night spilled in through revolving glass doors.

  A voice came from her right. “Look alive, Locke. Don't let Conner see you yawning. You're already on his S-list. Show time's in less than an hour.”

  Officer Locke stretched his face, shook his head, and readjusted his sitting position. “Yeah, yeah Roberts. Conner can eat one. And you can quote me.”

  “Have you seen Principe?” Roberts asked. “I don't want to try reaching him on the radio. In case Conner's listening.”

  “He's probably in a john somewhere,” Locke said. “Radio reception's not as good in the stalls anyway.”

  “All right, I'm heading up to fifty to the media center.”

  Kallie saw Roberts enter an elevator. The clock above the elevator read 1:30. She looked behind her again, and through the glass doors she could tell it was definitely dark outside which meant the time was 1:30 a.m. She wondered what the voice had meant by 'show time.’

  She started to wait for another elevator to take her to the fiftieth floor before realizing that she wasn't really here. She closed her eyes, thought fiftieth floor, and suddenly she was there, standing in front of the media center a few moments before Robert's elevator arrived.

  There was a hoard of media representatives present. She saw folks from ABC, NBC, CBS, MSBC, FOX, and CNN, and some other alphabet-titled outfits, including foreign ones that she wasn't as familiar with. Walking amongst the media crowd, conspicuous by their ominous, dark-suited presence, were several earpiece-fitted men who had the air and attitude of secret service agents.

  Wondering what in the world was going on, Kallie walked over and stood next to two reporters standing and talking near the crowded entrance of the bank's media center. She was able to catch enough of their conversation to learn that the media gathering was here awaiting the arrival of US senator and presidential frontrunner, Joseph Frank. Apparently, the news conference announcing a potential blockbuster US-Japan financial agreement was held at this hour in order to make the late-breaking afternoon news cycle in Japan and to gin up momentum for the opening of the financial market later this morning here in the states.

  “It's rather presumptuous, don't you think?” she heard one of the reporters ask the other. “The arrogance and stupidity of youth. Leading in the polls in late October this year doesn't guarantee victory next November.”

  “Maybe not, but you got to admire his chutzpah, acting like the man before he's actually the man may still pay dividends,” the second reporter remarked.

  “Or it may bite him in his egotistical butt,” the first reporter added. He nodded to the Fox reporters inside the room, sitting near the podium. “Those guys are ready to rip him to shreds.”

  “Either way, we've got a helluva story.” They both laughed.

  Kallie moved away from them and looked around. Apart from the oddness of the hour, this was a very routine event. But why was she drawn here? Then, she remembered the vision she'd had at the Piedmont Imaging Center. In the vision, a building had exploded. Could this be that building?

  The answer came soon enough. She saw him. The dark-skinned, flat-nosed man she'd visualized during Swag's 'priming' technique. Swag had referred to him as the Rogue. The picture Swag had eventually shown her had matched the image in her mind's eye perfectly. She now knew that the man in the picture and in her mind was now going by the name Gerald Principe. She watched him leave the men's restroom dressed as a security officer. At first, she thought they'd locked eye to eye, before again realizing that she wasn't actually here, but was in fact having another vision. She followed him as he checked on explosives he'd placed throughout the building. This was the building from her vision. Principe was planning to blow up the UCB Center building!

  “I know,” she screamed.

  “Yes, child,” Swag was saying. “The spirit is moving.”

  Kallie opened her eyes. She was back in the here and now, and Seth w
as escorting her to the altar. The congregation was applauding. Bewildered, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  Seth continued walking, holding her up. “There was an altar call and it looked like you'd gotten the Holy Ghost. You were shaking and mumbling incoherently. The pastor asked me to bring you to the altar.”

  Swag stepped down from the altar, and Kallie broke loose from Seth and approached him. “I've seen his face again,” she said, practically screaming. “I know what he intends to do.”

  The congregation, thinking she'd had a religious epiphany, shouted and applauded wildly.

  Swag gathered her into his arms and whispered softly in her ear, “Yes child, your eyes are opened. Now, tell me all that you've seen.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Wednesday, October 28

  The Rogue was now going by the name of Gerald Principe and at three o'clock tomorrow morning, a little more than six hours from now, he was going to blow up the United Corporate Bank Center, killing lots of people. Due to the earliness of the hour, casualties would be limited, relatively speaking. But still, many people were going to die, including the Democratic nominee for president. The bank building was going to be destroyed and several adjacent buildings would sustain significant damage.

  Kallie was in her bedroom, lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. In her mind's eye, she'd seen it all unfold as clear as day. Swag had been correct. Two days ago, the memories of the past life cycle had finally pushed through, flooding her mind with terrible images and bringing with them two sleepless nights. She'd been able to think of nothing but blood and mayhem. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She'd had one other prevalent thought—none of it had to happen. She remembered enough of what had happened previously to prevent it from happening this time. She knew the perpetrator. She knew what he intended to do. She knew where in the building he'd placed the explosives. She'd only to call the authorities and spill her guts. But Swag had been emphatic—under no circumstances were the authorities to be alerted. For whatever it was worth and whatever it meant, A.I. would handle this.