by Robert Child
“Frank? Frank!”
“What? I’m right here.”
“You went away someplace.”
“I’m sorry. I was just remembering something.”
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He gritted his teeth and said, “All right, all right, Katie. I’ll see a psychic or medium or whatever you call them. Nothing else’s done any damn good.”
Katie smiled, “Maybe we’ll get some answers.”
CRESTWOOD AVE, DAYTON, OHIO
Frank turned onto the residential street with Katie riding shotgun. They’d come several miles across town into the affluent part of Dayton looking for 1291 Crestwood.
“I guess being a psychic pays pretty good,” Frank muttered. “What’s her name again?”
“Maria—and she comes highly recommended. Donna goes to her all the time.”
“Your crazy cousin Donna? I wouldn’t call that a ringing endorsement.”
“I asked other people too.”
“Okay, okay. Now when we get in there let me do the talking. I don’t want you giving her too much information. I know how these people operate.”
“Okay, Frank. Look, there it is--1291.”
It was a tasteful Tudor-style colonial with well-kept gardens near the front and creeping roses over a trellis on the side of the house.
“This doesn’t look too bad,” Frank admitted.
“See, she must be good.”
“Or expensive.” Frank countered.
As they reached the door, Maria greeted them warmly. “You must be the Rusks.”
“Yes, I’m Kate and this is my husband Frank.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Please come in and follow me.”
Maria, a tall dark haired woman in her late forties dressed in a conservative navy pantsuit, led them down the hall as a white cat trailed behind them.”
“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” Maria asked as she led them into a large wood paneled library.
“No, no, cats are fine. We owned a cat for a long time,” Katie offered.
Frank threw Katie a look reminding her not to be too talkative.
“How long have you been doing this, Maria?” Frank asked.
“Oh, as far back as I can remember. But I’m sure you mean professionally and that would be about twenty years.”
“Must have a lot of satisfied customers.”
“I hope so. But as I tell my clients, a lot of what comes through from the other side is based on them and how open they are to the experience.”
Frank looked around the very large room they had just entered. He guessed it to be about 700 square feet. The walls were lined with books. It felt quiet and serene.
“Hey, this is nice.” Frank said.
“Thank you. I find books very comforting. This is the calmest room in the house. My clients love it.”
“I can see why,” Katie offered.
“Now who’s getting the reading today?”
“Ah, that would be me,” Frank said, pointing to himself.
Maria turned to Katie, “You’re welcome to stay during the session if you like, Mrs. Rusk, or if you’d rather not, I have set out coffee in the living room.You could wait there if you like. It’s up to you.”
“It’s really up to Frank.” Katie said turning to her husband.
Frank smiled somewhat nervously. “Katie, I’d like you to stay.”
She returned his smile.
“Very well. Please make yourselves comfortable. Mrs. Rusk, you can have a seat over there on the sofa.”
Maria led Frank over to two brown leather wingback chairs set in front of an enormous hearth. The dark leather sofa was about ten feet away, but close enough so Katie would be able to hear the reading.
“Have you ever been to a psychic before, Mr. Rusk? Or do you prefer to be called Frank?”
“No, I never have. And Frank is fine.”
“A first timer, good, good. During the session I like to hold an item that you use or wear on a regular basis. Perhaps a ring or a watch.”
Frank looked down at the Hamilton watch on his wrist. It was the only item his Mom had passed down to him that had belonged to his Dad.
“You can hold my watch,” he said. He carefully unstrapped it and handed it to her.
“Good. Thank you, Frank. Please have a seat,” she said, motioning to the high back chair closest to the window.
Frank settled into the surprising comfort of the chair as Maria sat nearby in the other wingback.
“The sessions typically last about one hour. You can pay me at the end.”
“Jeez, I almost forgot. How much do you charge?”
“Twenty dollars.”
Frank repeated her words with disbelief, “Twenty dollars?”
“I don’t do this for the money, Frank.”
At that Frank turned to Katie and shrugged.
“Shall we begin?”
When Frank nodded, Maria clasped the watch between both hands, closed her eyes, and began inhaling and exhaling deeply, in and out, in and out.
Frank watched her as she slowly descended into her trance. He noticed her brow had furrowed and she swung her head from left to right, back and forth.
“No, no, this is not right. Something is off. Something is wrong.”
Frank looked down at the goose bumps that had risen on his forearms.
“What? What’s wrong?” Frank said leaning toward her.
“Are both your parents deceased?”
“Yes.”
“I only see one. I am getting an ‘F’, Francine, Frankie…”
“Franny,” Frank answered her.
“She is very upset.”
“Upset?”
“It’s about your Dad.”
“What? What did he do?”
“Wait, she’s communicating something. She’s saying ‘help him, help him.’ I’m not sure I understand. She’s pleading. She wants you to help your father.”
Frank’s eyes grew wide as he looked over at Katie who was holding her hands tight over her mouth and shaking her head.
“Help my Dad? How? He passed away in World War II.”
Maria exhaled, breaking her trance, and slowly opened her eyes, “No, Frank. No, he didn’t.”
Frank jumped to his feet hyperventilating, “What do you mean no he didn’t? He was killed in the Pacific in ‘43 when his ship went down. He drowned with six hundred other guys!”
“Frank, Mr. Rusk, please be calm.”
“Be calm! This is a bunch of phony baloney horseshit, that’s what this is! Com’on Katie we’re go-”
“Frank, sit down! Sit down now!”
Frank was stunned into silence. Katie never yelled at him. What the hell is going on? Frank started to pace back and forth.
“Okay, okay. I just gotta breathe. Give me a second.”
“Please, Mr. Rusk, Frank, be calm. I feel there is very important information I need to convey. Please.”
Frank returned to his chair slowly, “Look, I just don’t understand.”
“I’m trying to help you figure it out, Frank. One moment.”
Then Maria closed her eyes and fell back into her trance. She nodded and seemed to be listening to something. “Your mom is sending you her love. She is telling me she gave you this watch on your thirteenth birthday--your father’s watch. She is saying she told you that she felt you could finally…”
“…take care of it like a responsible young man.” Frank said, his voice breaking as he finished Maria’s sentence.
“Yes.” Maria responded softly still wrapped in her trance.
“Ah, she says you’ve been having visions.”
“Yes, terrible ones. I don’t know why I am having them, but they won’t stop.”
“She’s telling me they’re from your Dad. That his soul is sending them to you.”
Frank turned to Katie to see her reaction. Katie’s astonished look told him she didn’t know what to make of this either.
“Why?�
� Frank asked.
“It’s a distress call. You and he share a strong bond, a soul link.” Then she paused to draw a breath and continued. “What I am about to tell you may sound very strange, but please stay with me. I believe he is trapped. He is very confused.”
“Trapped? Trapped where? Like in Purgatory?”
“No, no that’s a religious construct.”
“Look, a minute ago you said he wasn’t dead, and now you tell me he’s trapped. Where the hell is he?”
“Frank, I know this will be very difficult to understand, but I believe he’s trapped in a parallel dimension.”
“Parallel dimension? What the hell is a parallel dimension?”
“Parallel dimensions are really parallel realities that exist all around us. They are infinite in number and populated by versions of ourselves who have made alternate choices. There are infinite parallel realities and infinite parallel earths. They are all real and valid based on the choices we make or do not make in our lives.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following any of this.”
“You, Frank, you’re married. You and Kate probably have a family. You have something you do for work. These are all life choices and the results are what you are living on a daily basis in this dimensional reality. But there are other Franks who did not get married, who may not have gone to college, who may have a totally different profession. Your soul is really multidimensional and those Franks who are all part of the same soul are experiencing their reality on a parallel track with yours. They do not have your memories. They have their own pasts and will have their own futures as they go about their lives with no knowledge of you or all the other Franks.”
Frank shook his head and sighed, “Even if I could remotely understand what you’re saying, what does all this have to do with my Dad?”
“I feel his spirit, or at least part of it, crossed into a parallel reality track. And I feel great psychic trauma associated with it. You say he went down on a ship?”
“Yes. The worst carrier disaster in the Pacific. 650 men went down on his ship in the blink of an eye. They probably didn’t even know what hit ‘em.”
“Okay, okay, now I see. Now this is making sense. I feel he is trapped in an alternate reality. Living as…ah, what’s his name please?”
“Joe.”
“Joe, living the life of a parallel Joe. The problem I’m sensing is that his soul has retained memories from his other life in this dimension. The door is still ajar. He remembers you. He remembers he had a son. And he remembers he drowned on a ship.”
“My God.”
“His soul is in great torment.” She paused to find the right words. “What I am feeling is he would rather be dead than alive in a different life without you.”
Chapter 6
USS LISCOME BAY, CENTRAL PACIFIC
In the hours following the torpedoing of the New Mexico, Joe searched franticly for his son’s photo. He tore the cabin apart. Nothing. The only glimmer of hope was that all his buddies, the ones who remembered the ship sinking, had confirmed that yes he was married and yes he had an infant son. They confirmed he had shown them the boy’s picture.
But in the days that followed, Joe felt himself sinking into a deep, dark, angry depression. This was not his life. This was not his ship. This was not where he wanted to be. He was overtaken by increasingly frequent uncontrollable fits of sobbing. His friends had drifted away. His resulting desperate loneliness on a ship with 600 men overwhelmed him and became increasingly unbearable. Without his past, with no memories of who he was supposed to be in this new world, and without Franny and his son from the old world, Joe felt he had no future. The immediate future, however, was the one thing Joe could control. He decided to take matters into his own hands.
In the hospital ward on deck two Joe Rusk, drenched with sweat and seawater, struggled furiously against his restraints. He screamed, “Let me die! Jesus, they shoulda let me die!” as the Navy doctor moved toward him with a long syringe filled with a heavy-duty sedative.
Burly orderlies on both sides of the steel gurney held Joe down for the doctor to do his work.
“There, that should put him out for a few hours,” the doctor said.
“Son of a…” Joe whimpered as he slipped into blackness.
“Strangest thing, Doc,” the assisting orderly Billy Garcia offered, “I saw him walking on the flight deck near the bow. Then he just took off running right off the end of the ship. Gotta be at least ninety feet to the water. He kept pushing away the life preservers we threw over to him.”
The doctor nodded.
“Finally, we dropped down a life raft and hauled him in. Crazy as it sounds, it just looked like he was trying to die.”
LATER
Joe jolted awake from the waning sedation. He looked down at both arms, arms that were held to his hospital bed by thick canvas straps. The straps weren’t budging. A hulking six foot three African American sailor entered with a steel tray of food. Joe saw that it had no sharp objects on it.
“I don’t want it. Take it away.”
“You gotta eat. Gotta get your strength back.”
“I don’t want my strength back.”
“What’s that kinda talk?”
“They shoulda let me die.”
The hulking man smiled at Joe, “Well, ain’t you dead already? Most of us round here is dead already.”
Joe snapped his eyes back to the man and his wide toothy grin.
“Joe lifted his upper body closer to the man and asked in a whisper, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. We had six jumpers this week. You’re the only guy they could save cause we had neared some island and dropped anchor.”
Joe felt a little ashamed of trying to end his life, but also ashamed of being unsuccessful in the attempt. He shook his head in disgust.
“As I was sayin’, most of us is already dead.”
Joe nodded.
“Me, I bought it topside. I ran up from the galley to help put out some of the deck fires. One of those Wildcats blew apart – this propeller came spinning, sliced me right in two. Never even felt it.” Then he grinned wider.
Joe shook his head, “Well, you seem pretty darn happy about it.” Then he recognized the man, “Hey, aren’t you Theo Akins? You’re the guy who took out all those Jap dive bombers at Pearl. I saw you on those recruiting posters.”
“Yessir. Got the Navy Cross, too. Now I’m a mess attendant on this here carrier.”
“A messman? They need you back on a damn .50 cal.”
Theo smiled and Joe realized segregation was a barrier even during war.
“You know, sir, you know why I’m happy. I figure I gotta second chance. Maybe in this world they treat us coloreds a little better. Ya know?”
Joe nodded sympathetically.
“Well, Theo, I need to get back to that other world – my other life. I had a son. I was going to raise him, watch him grow up, teach him how to play ball.”
“I don’t know how you gonna get back, but lotta guys round here feelin’ the same as you.”
“How do you know that?”
“We got like this secret club. Don’t talk much about it to nobody outside, but we gotta a sign if we think you is one of us.”
“Sign, what sign?”
Theo laughed and brought a finger to his massive neck and sliced across it, still grinning.
Joe laughed.
“If they give us the sign back, they’s in the club.”
Joe laughed, “I guess that gets right to the point.”
“Yes, sir, yes it do. Now let me feed you some of this here soup. They won’t let me take the straps off.”
Joe relented, “Hey, could you introduce me to some of the other guys?”
“In the secret club? Hell yeah. We got meetins’ of the Deadman’s Club ever’ other Wednesday, but we don’t call it that. Kinda unspoken. You get better and you come join us.”
FRANK’S CAR
Fran
k was pensive. He stared out the passenger side window at the passing homes as Katie drove them back across town to their home. He turned to Katie, “Thanks for driving, hon.”
“Sure, Frank. Maria gave you a lot to think about.”
“I’m just sick to my stomach.”
Katie looked over again, “Are you going to follow her advice?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know about all this mumbo jumbo.”
“Maria did say she wanted to help. And your Mom wants you to help and obviously your Dad needs your help.”
“Katie, don’t you see, that’s the thing. If Maria can somehow bring him back to this world, he’ll be dead in a watery grave at the bottom of the ocean. What’s the point?”
“Now, Frank, I’ve been thinking about that.”
“Oh boy, here we go,” he said as he brought a hand to his temple.
“No, no, hear me out. Maria said there were infinite parallel realities or possibilities and we’re living in a reality based on our choices. You and I decided to get married, have a family, live in Dayton.”
“Right…”
“We don’t know what the future holds. We hope we stay healthy, active. We know we’re going to die someday. We just hope it isn’t today or tomorrow or next week. We know it’s going to happen, but we don’t know how or when.”
“What are you getting at?”
To Frank’s surprise, Katie swung the car to the right and came to screeching halt at the curb, nearly giving Frank whiplash.
“Jesus Christ, Katie, what the hell ya doing?”
“Making a point. You didn’t expect that did you?”
“Expect it? No, I didn’t!” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“And if you knew I was going to do that, you would have tried to brace yourself or avoid it, right?”
“Damn right! I knew I shoulda kept the keys.”
“Frank, your Dad never expected to die on that carrier in 1943.”
“Of course not. How could he know?”
“Exactly. How could he know?”
Frank’s mind was starting to lock on Katie’s unfolding logic.
“But he does know, Frank. In that other dimension, he’s aware he had another life, that he had a son, and that he went down on that ship with 650 other men.”
“Yeah?”
