George Hartmann Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  Dinner is uneventful but pleasant. We enjoy ourselves every time we’re together.

  These people I’m living this life with are essential nourishment for me. We don’t get tired of each other. We’re grateful to simply be together. I hope I’m just as nourishing to them. I want to be the best man I can be for them. I look forward to having my uncle and my in-laws living here in Ithaca permanently. We’ll eat many meals together like this. We’ll move through life, together.

  Once we finish dinner and get the boys back to the house and in bed, Liam and I take Lady over to Jen and Duke’s.

  Ladygirl hasn’t been apart from us since the day we brought her home from the animal hospital. She was freshly patched up that day and very wobbly. She sure was relieved to be home though. It had to have been traumatic for her to be shot like that, then to spend a week in an animal hospital away from us. She probably focuses on the positive and lives mostly in the moment. She’s a dog, after all. But I can’t help but wonder how much it gets to her. I wonder if she’ll be anxious with us away.

  As we drive on the way over, Lady seems apprehensive. But she relaxes once she gets into their house and sees Jen. Luckily, Jen is great with dogs and our girl knows it. I squat down and talk to Lady while Liam chats with Duke and Jen. I reassure her that we’ll be back soon and that everything will be okay. She whines a little and nuzzles my neck as if she knows what I’m saying. She reluctantly accepts the situation, walking over and sitting down on the floor near Jen’s spot on the couch.

  I’m proud of Ladygirl. Here she is, making the best of it already. I’m sure Lady and Jen will be just fine together. I thank Jen for keeping her. She’s gracious and seems genuinely happy to pet sit.

  I sort of hate to bring up the business and the Tahoe invite right now. It feels late at night and spur of the moment to spring something like this on Duke. I consider not telling him just yet. Liam can tell I’m hesitating, so he shoots me a look that reminds me how serious Roddy seemed. I guess this moment is more about honoring my father-in-law’s request than anything else. He wants Duke. Hopefully, it’s Duke he shall have.

  Roddy sees something in Duke Hale. I can’t necessarily connect all of the dots to explain what. Hell, I can’t connect all of the dots about Roddy, period. But I get the message loud and clear that he deserves to be revered and respected. He has a quiet strength that I deeply admire. I’m pretty sure Liam feels the same way about Ali’s dad.

  “Hey, Duke,” I begin.

  “Yeah, man,” he replies. “What’s good?”

  “Actually,” I say. “I have what may sound like a strange request, but it’s serious.”

  “Okay,” he says. “Shoot.”

  Ever the basketball fan. I wonder if he intended the reference.

  “So, I’m not sure if you’ve heard any details yet. But you know that Liam is moving up here so he and I can go into business together, right?” I ask.

  “I heard his announcement at the party last night,” Duke confirms. “But that’s all I know. Why?”

  “It’s a long story,” I say. “And I don’t want to tell it now. It’s late and you two need to be left alone to go to bed.”

  “What are you saying then, George?” Liam interjects, prompting me to carry on.

  “Yeah,” Duke says. “So, what?”

  “So,” I continue. “To make a long story very short, Roddy and Taye have also come on board, and we want you to join us.”

  “In business?” Duke asks, looking confused. He turns to where Jen has settled on the couch near Lady and lowers his brows when his eyes land on her.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “It’s private security,” Liam adds. “Drones. The focus is mostly on residential security for the time being. Roddy insists on having you involved.”

  “Wow,” Duke says. “I’m honored. But, you know, I have a wedding coming up and a baby on the way. I’m not sure I should get involved in another big project right now.”

  “I hear you,” I say. “It’s a lot.”

  “Listen,” Liam says, placing a hand on Duke’s shoulder as if he’s about to tell him the real story. “There’s a lot of money being put up here. And that means there’s a certain safety net, the likes of which employment at the Sheriff’s Department can’t provide. Work will be flexible. If anything, you’ll be even more available to your family than you would have been otherwise.”

  Liam is sounding like an expert recruiter right now. I’m impressed. Everything he’s saying is relevant. He somehow knows exactly what to say to ease Duke’s concerns. I make a mental note to let Liam be the guy who smooths things over if we ever need to talk our way out of a difficult business situation.

  “Now, that does sound attractive,” Duke says. “I wasn’t thinking about it in those terms.”

  “Yeah,” Liam confirms. “That’s the bottom line as far as what you need to know right now. Think about it like that. We can fill you in on the details later.”

  “We’re all getting together in Tahoe to hash out business plans,” I say. “We’d like you to join us.”

  “This week?” Duke asks, raising his eyebrows now.

  He probably thinks we’re insane.

  “Yeah,” Liam says. “Can you take a few days off?”

  “Roddy insists on paying your travel expenses,” I add. “He says to tell you he won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Wow,” Duke says again. “I’m flattered guys. Really.”

  “Are you saying yes?” Liam asks. “Taye is arriving Wednesday and staying through Sunday. That’s our window for next steps.”

  “Well,” Duke begins. “Wow.”

  Jen’s listening from across the room but hasn’t made any comment yet.

  “Look,” Duke says. “Give me a little while to talk to Jen. I could probably take a few days off, even though this is crazy. You guys do know that, right? It’s bonkers.”

  “I know,” I say with a chuckle. “Sometimes life is, well, bonkers.”

  “Alright, man,” Duke says, quickly ushering us towards the door. “I’ll get back to you.”

  We thank Jen again and I call out another goodbye to Lady. Both look settled in comfortably together. Then Liam and I get back into his big blue truck and drive around the lake towards home.

  We keep the windows down while we ride and lean into the fresh air on our faces. It’s a warm, clear night with gorgeous weather. The stars are sparking at their best this evening, brilliant and unencumbered by our mortal worries. The city is quiet and the lake is calm and peaceful. The only sounds outside are those of crickets and the occasional bullfrog. It’s a perfect summer night. The kind people remember and write songs about.

  When we arrive at our house and walk inside, we’re greeted by the heavenly sounds of Ali playing her cello in the den. It takes me a minute to place the melody, but I soon recognize it as a rendition of A Thousand Years by Christina Perri. I’m struck by the deep meaning of the song selection. I haven’t even told Ali that I remember living with and loving her in Ancient Greece. Ethan mentioned us being together in Greece the week of the break-in, of course, but I wonder if Ali is making the connection to the lyrics. It feels like a part of her is, even if not consciously. We’ve loved each other for more than a thousand years.

  Playing cello is like breathing for Ali. Even though she decided not to make a career as a professional musician, it’s very much a part of her soul. I can hear the passion and the oneness she shares with her instrument as they emote together. Maybe it’s simply because I know her so well, but I’ll bet others hear it, too. My wife is probably playing cello this evening to center herself before our trip. It’s a meditation for her, really.

  Liam and I slowly walk towards the den like moths drawn to a flame. I smile as I walk, letting the music wash over me. When I enter the room and see my wife, my heart just about leaps out of my chest. I’ve walked into rooms and seen her a million times by now, yet doing so still makes my insides warm and gooey. I’m completely and
totally in love with this woman. I fall harder and harder for her with each passing day. I pause in the doorway, too taken with her to move any further. Liam stops and stands by my side, a proud smile on his face as well.

  Alessandra Davies is bowing her head down towards the neck of the cello. Her golden hair is tied back in a messy bun. A few rebellious strands cling playfully to her temples and volley around her cherry-red lips when her head moves from side to side. She’s wearing a white sleeveless top and matching white yoga pants. She looks like a ballerina. Or a real-life angel. She has her eyes closed, immersed completely in the act of bringing forth these beautiful sounds. Every touch of her fingers to the instrument is pure love and joy. She caresses the bow and the strings tenderly, with the utmost reverence for the experience they’re sharing. I know how it feels to be caressed by those loving fingers.

  Marjorie is sitting in a chair nearby with Leo and Will on her lap. She raises one finger to her lips when she sees us, then smiles and begins to sway gently to the music. Both boys lean back contentedly on their grandmother’s chest as they watch and listen.

  Roddy and Ethan have been upstairs, but they must have heard Liam and I come in. They tiptoe down each step slowly so as not to interrupt, then enter the doorway to the den and stand beside me. I pick Ethan up into my arms. He leans his little head on my shoulder as I embrace him tightly.

  I’m not sure Ali even knows we’re here. She’s in her own world and she’s casting a spell on everyone around her. It feels amazing to bask in her goodness. Roddy folds his arms over his chest, one on top of the other. It reminds me of the way my dad used to stand during our late night talks back in Brooklyn. Then Roddy leans over towards me and bumps one of his shoulders into mine as he nods towards his amazing daughter. He’s so very proud of his little girl. I guess kids who grow up are always their parents’ babies. It doesn’t matter how big or how old they get. Times like these make me see that clearly.

  I know I’m biased, but Ali truly is one of the very best human beings to ever walk this planet. I hope our boys realize how lucky they are to have her for a mother. First of all, she’s kind. She genuinely cares about people. It shows in everything she does, from taking time for chats with little old ladies at the grocery store to working in her career to help immigrants navigate the legal system as they try and bring beloved family members to America from their home countries. She’s as smart as anyone I’ve ever met. And I work with literal rocket scientists. Not to mention, she’s staggeringly beautiful by anyone’s standards. Her loving spirit and kindness no doubt add to her remarkable beauty. And she has a wisdom and grace about her as if she’s an old soul, here to guide those of us less sophisticated beings. It’s the biggest honor of my life to call her and our sweet boys my own.

  As I ponder all that is Alessandra Davies, I feel goosebumps spread across my skin from head to toe. Suddenly, the plodding baseline in the music seems to be ushering my consciousness along without any active process on my part. I begin to see a vision. It’s… Ancient Greece again. My knees go weak as the scene floods into my awareness. Roddy and Liam stand closer on either side of me, holding me steady. I grip Ethan tightly in my arms and allow myself to experience the memory.

  In a rush, I feel myself back in Greece, holding Ethan just as tightly. He’s an infant here, and he’s bundled up in white swaddling cloth. He’s looking up at me with big, brown trusting eyes. My love for him is overwhelming in its intensity. I recognize the rugged terrain and sweeping ocean views from my previous memories. The setting feels more familiar, more like home this time.

  Ali is sitting beside me. I have one arm around her and am holding her securely as we’re bumped and jostled around. Her beautiful face is stained with tears. I take a deep breath and my heart feels broken right inside of my chest. We’re riding in some sort of horse-drawn buggy. In a flood of awareness and knowing, I come to understand that Ali and Ethan are being taken out of the city against their will. Against my will. Ali and I look at each with great sadness as we ride along. We understand that this is a fate which cannot be avoided, no matter how much we wish it could.

  The horses are running furiously, hooves pounding the earth below them as another soldier whips and spurs them on in front of me. I turn around and see four additional soldiers on horseback, obediently escorting us. Their horses are galloping with the same ferocity. They’re on a mission. I can see all of this and feel it as if I’m right there. The other soldiers are my friends. One of them is our Leo. I recognize him immediately from the memories experienced under hypnosis at Dr. Epstein’s office. These soldiers aren’t mean or malicious. They’re simply doing their duty. They’ve been ordered to see that Ali and Ethan are taken to a remote village outside of the city where they will spend the remainder of their days. That is, in this lifetime, anyway.

  I knew previously about Ali and our baby, who is Ethan, being sent out of the Ancient Greek city we called home. That knowing washed over me at Dr. Epstein’s. But I didn’t remember exactly how or when the journey happened. I guess I sort of speculated that Ali was sent away during her pregnancy, but now I’m remembering and feeling the actual trip out of town and I see that Ethan was, in fact, an infant when it happened. Thank God Ali was allowed to give birth in the city with the assurance of the best care our society had to offer. I feel a rush of relief at the thought. Odd how I’m relieved to know Ethan was born safely in Ancient Greece even though I also remember how his innocent life was taken from him violently.

  These past-life memories are a whirl of emotion that provide both confusion and clarity at the same time. Even though I know the answers all lie within me, I still have so many questions. My subconscious mind remembers everything. Dr. Epstein said it could, and his prompting during hypnosis seemed to have given me the permission I needed to tap into what lies buried in the depths of my mind and soul.

  Ali’s cello music plods onward as I keep my eyes closed, staying with the ancient memory. I decide to ask myself a question while in the memory in an effort to learn more and connect some dots. I try thinking the question: What city did we live in? In a flash, just as quickly as I made the inquiry, the answer comes: Ithaca, Ithaki. I’m thrilled to be receiving an answer and I’m not surprised at this particular one. It seems like our modern-day connection to Ithaca, New York has a deeper meaning. I find that fascinating, yet I’m too wrapped up in the emotional scene unfolding in my memory to give it much thought. I’ll revisit the connection at a later time. Something or someone is urging me to let go of the need to control the experience. I feel myself floating away from my Greek body just a little, while simultaneously feeling encouraged to follow the memory where it wants to lead me. I want to know more, so I do as I’m prompted. I relax into it and allow myself to go with the flow.

  I squeeze Ethan both with my modern-day arms in our den, as well as in the ancient scene. I am again pulled more solidly into my Greek body and into the emotions that go along with it. I become overwhelmed with fear for my lover and our child. I’m terrified at the prospect of the two of them living outside of Ithaki, without the protections and accommodations afforded to those of us in the city.

  The various dangers and pitfalls are racing through my mind like a real-life nightmare. Ali and Ethan could be too hot without fans and cool baths, or too cold without enough blankets and soft bedding. I want my baby boy to be warm and comfortable. Infants need warmth to stay alive and to thrive. Ali and Ethan could run out of food or water. I imagine they’ll be able to get some sort of garden going, but the food they harvest won’t last them through the winter. Not to mention, it will be a difficult task to protect the garden from predators and thieves. And getting clean water won’t always easy. We take these things for granted in the city. Out in the country where Ali and Ethan are going, every single task will bring a new set of challenges. I’m not sure Ali is cut out for all of this. She’s used to being waited on and cared for. Her delicate hands have never known what it’s like to become calloused from har
d work. She and Ethan could get sick and suffer unnecessarily without access to our medicine and baths. They could be mauled by wild animals. They could be harassed, robbed, or hurt by pillagers. And, as I remembered at Dr. Epstein’s, that’s what really does happen. Or did happen. It’s heartbreaking.

  My entire existence in this ancient life is about protection. I’m a soldier. I began training for my role as a boy. I’ve dedicated my body, mind, and soul to keeping the people of Ithaki safe. I would lay down my life at a moment's notice to do so. I’d be proud to do so. Our city and way of life are worth fighting for. Our home is beautiful and civilized. We have gorgeous palaces, public baths, and fine establishments for dining and entertainment. I’d go as far as to say that we’re one of the best, most beautiful and enlightened cities in the entire world. I don’t know what else is out there in the world in this time period because my ancient perspective doesn’t afford me that knowledge. But I know in my bones how wonderful our place is. It’s an honor and a privilege to call it home. When I look up to the heavens, I’m thankful to have found myself in such a glorious time and place. Which is why I’m so upset that Ali and Ethan can’t stay to enjoy it with me. And that I can’t keep them safe. That fact shakes me to my core. My entire existence is about protecting what’s good and meaningful. Now I have my very own good and meaningful loved ones, I can’t be with them. And I can’t protect them. What a cruel twist of fate.

  I look over at Ali again, to gauge her readiness for the adversity she’s about to encounter. She looks back at me in desperation, wanting me to somehow stop this. She speaks. Her voice is shaky, her body trembling with fright.

  “My love, turn us around,” she says. “Do something.”

  My heart skips a beat when I hear these words. I’m taken aback by the experience of both feeling Ali’s presence in the modern-day room with me and seeing and hearing her voice in my memory of an ancient life. It’s surreal. Her pain is palpable, in both places. It’s almost like the emotion she conveys as she plays the cello comes from the great pain she endured in Ancient Greece. It’s still in her. The ache of losing each other and of losing our precious son is still in there. It’s in both of us.