Redemption: Supernatural Time-Traveling Romance with Sci-fi and Metaphysics Read online

  “Of course sacrifice! Or did you think you gave up those lives without reason?”

  “Well…” she continued drying her hair as she tried to think. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But I didn’t really achieve anything. I didn’t get Wu back or save Alfreda. Even if I did sacrifice myself, what was it all for?”

  “Answer this then: when you were living in the Stone Age, why did you die?”

  Ann shrugged as she picked up the E-A device and headed back out into the bedroom. “Because I shoved a spear through my heart.” She winced again at the thought of that sharpened stick pushing into her body and placed a hand on her chest.

  “No,” said Rob, now watching her from the bedside table. “That was how you died. I asked why.”

  “Because that big, murdering bastard was going to get me!” Ann jabbed crossly at the SmartHome screen on the wardrobe, selecting a red trouser suit. Immediately a wooden panel slipped back and the requested suit slid out on a rail.

  “And what was that ‘big, murdering bastard’ going to do with you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, pulling on the underwear that had appeared through another panel. “Rape me? Beat me? Keep me as a slave wife?”

  “All of the above, no doubt. So why did you decide to kill yourself?”

  “Well, it’s obvious isn’t it? Death has to be preferable to such a life. I died for freedom.”

  “For freedom!” Rob agreed. “And what about your death as the Roman priest?”

  “Egyptian priest.”

  “Indeed.”

  “That was just a heart attack, wasn’t it?”

  Rob sighed and gave her a long meaningful look as Ann pulled on her trousers and tucked in her blouse. “Again, that was how you died. Ask yourself why.”

  “Because I had been running and pushed my body too hard?”

  “Okay… and why had you been running?”

  “To save Alfreda’s life, to rescue the woman I loved.”

  “So why did you die? For what reason?”

  Ann finished buttoning up her jacket and stood up straight, suddenly realizing what Rob was getting at. “I died for love.”

  “Exactly!” said Rob with a beaming smile. “You sacrificed yourself for freedom and for love. That’s good karma right there, my lady, huge steps on the path to redemption.”

  “Redemption?” Ann looked puzzled for a moment, trying to remember where she had heard that word recently. “The psychic mentioned that at the end of our last session, when she was going on about reincarnation chains and other weird stuff.”

  “Perhaps it would be worth talking with her again and finding out what she meant?”

  “I’m not so sure, Rob,” she said, picking up the device and walking towards the front door of her apartment. “Maybe my past lives weren’t as pointless as I thought they were, but that doesn’t change the fact that my nightmares have gotten worse since I went to see that old woman. I don’t want to risk them getting even worse still!”

  “That’s entirely your choice, my lady. It is your life—your journey—and only you can really make that decision.”

  ~

  A short while later, Ann eased her car into the parking lot of the A.I.I. building and headed up to the Sales and Marketing floor. She was still somewhat preoccupied with thoughts about past lives and about her evening with Michael, and so she didn’t immediately notice the strange atmosphere in the office. Where before people had been rushing back and forth and colleagues had been chatting loudly with one another, now people were moving slowly and quietly, and speaking to each other in hushed tones. It wasn’t until Linda walked past, wearing another flowery dress and trailing perfume, and failed to wish her a good morning that Ann realized something wasn’t quite right.

  “Linda,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  Linda stopped and turned to face her, and Ann noticed there were tears in her eyes. “Haven’t you heard?” she asked.

  “Heard what? What’s happened?”

  “It’s Peter.”

  Ann glanced over Linda’s shoulder to look at Peter’s desk, but it was empty. “What about him?”

  “He had an accident on his way into work this morning.”

  “An accident?”

  “Apparently he crashed into a stationery truck as he pulled out of the tunnel. According to the SmartDrive system, he had been watching the film Bullitt on his windshield and came tearing up the ramp like Steve McQueen. Such a tragedy! I blame the SmartDrive system. Whose idea was it to offer movies?”

  “So how is Peter?” asked Ann, trying to get back to the matter at hand.

  “He’s struggling for his life in the Memorial Hospital.”

  Ann’s eyes widened in concern. “Struggling for his life? He was hurt badly then?”

  “They’re not sure if he’s going to pull through.” Linda’s voice broke and she fought to control herself, blinking her eyes and clearing her throat. “It’s awful, Ann. Peter may not live!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Having received word that Peter had come out of surgery, Ann left the A.I.I. building shortly after lunch and headed to the Memorial Hospital. She got Rob to take her to the nearest florist on the way so she could buy some flowers on behalf of the team at work, but when she arrived she found that Peter was still unconscious.

  As Ann stood and at looked at him, the most cheerful guy from her team, lying in the hospital bed surrounded by beeping machines, his body hung all about with tubes, she felt herself almost overcome by a terrible sense of sadness and loss.

  After a few minutes, Ann walked to the head of the bed. She placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and laid the flowers carefully on the bedside table.

  “See you soon, Peter,” she said softly and, as she turned away, she added, “You’d better not be late for work on Monday.”

  ~

  “Peter may not live!” Linda’s words rang in Ann’s head.

  How awful it is! Mi’s Lu died very young. He was probably seventeen or eighteen years old. And Alfreda died in her twenties. Peter is thirty-four. He’s not even halfway through his life. He might have a mom and dad still alive, and perhaps a girlfriend missing him…

  Thinking about Peter’s mother reminded her of her own lost son, Wu, his tiny hands at her swollen breast, his mouth greedily sucking her milk and tears splashed into her eyes. Feelings of compassion washed her over.

  “Poor, poor Peter! How sad it is… I need someone to talk to.”

  ~

  “I need someone to talk to,” said Ann, looking at Nina as she stirred her cappuccino. They were sitting at one of the tables on the paved area at the front of the small café on the lakefront. “I guess it’s the shock - Peter’s accident just came out of nowhere.”

  Nina sipped her drink and set it down with a wave of her hand. “Oh, I know, darling. It was the same with me and Louis. You remember Louis, don’t you?”

  “Remind me. Was he one of your men?”

  “One of my men?” said Nina, in mock indignation. “You make it sound like I’m some sort of floozy.” She smiled suddenly. “And, yes, he was one of my men. Italian. A real charmer.”

  “What happened to him?” asked Ann, holding her cup in both hands and letting the coffee fumes begin to calm her nerves.

  “He walked in front of a bus on a day trip to Milwaukee. Not on purpose, you understand, but it was terribly distressing all the same.”

  “That’s awful, Nina. Was he okay?”

  “Louis?” Nina frowned and shook her head, quickly flicking the stray hair from her eyes. “No, poor Louis was quite dead, sweetie.”

  “What? How old was he?”

  “Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Something like that.”

  “My god, really? That’s so young. What’s the purpose of such a life,” she wondered, half-speaking to herself, “to be born, go through the pains of growing up and working to better yourself only for it all to be snatched away as you reach your prime?”

  “Darling, I
really do understand how shocking this all is for you. As I remember, it took me ages to get over what happened to poor Louis. I don’t think I got my head straight again until I met Gregory. You remember him don’t you?”

  “Gregory?” Ann thought for a moment as she sipped her drink and looked out across the lake. “He wasn’t the chef, was he?”

  A slightly dreamy look passed over Nina’s face. “That’s right. Gregory the chef. The things that man could do with a whisk and a spatula!”

  “So how long after Louis’ accident did you start seeing him?”

  “Oh, it was ages, darling. Two weeks at least.”

  “Really?” said Ann, with more than a hint of irony. “A whole two weeks? However did you last so long?”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” said Nina with a wave of her hand. “You think two weeks wasn’t that long, that I should have been mourning dear Louis.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, I couldn’t just mope about forever. It wouldn’t have done Louis any good. And it wouldn’t have done me any good either. Life is for the living, darling, and if there’s one thing a dead person would tell you it’s to get on and live your life. Or at least they would if they weren’t dead, of course. That’s what your colleague, Paul, would say.”

  “You mean Peter?”

  Nina frowned. “Who’s Peter?”

  “My work colleague!” said Ann, giving Nina a look of disbelief. Sometimes she really despaired of her friend. “The one who had the accident. And he’s not dead, he’s going to make it!” Ann stood up with the intention of leaving the café and Nina.

  “Of course he will live, darling. Please sit back down.” Nina moved a chair closer to Ann. “And I’m sure he wouldn’t want you looking miserable all day. Get on with life! The show must go on!” She waved an expansive hand at the skyscrapers towering over them. “There’s a whole city here waiting for you, offering you everything you could possibly want. Get stuck in, girl, while there’s still time!”

  “We can enjoy it, but Peter can’t,” said Ann. A tear dropped from her eye.

  “But he will recover and join you for the show!”

  Ann smiled weakly. They sat in a silence for a while observing the lakefront. Eventually, Nina set her empty cup down on the table and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Talking about everyone you could possibly want,” she said. “How are things going with the lovely Michael?”

  “Now that would be telling!” said Ann, a broad smile finally easing its way across her face.

  “Well, telling is exactly what I’m after. Have you seen him again?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Either you have or you haven’t.”

  “Well, I guess it depends if you include dinner at the Fleur-de-Lis followed by a little dancing at the Windermere as seeing him.”

  Nina raised her eyebrows, impressed at her friend’s progress. “Nice work! Tell me all about it.”

  ~

  “Tell me all about it,” said Ann, as she steered her car through the city center. “I want all the info you’ve got on this reincarnation chain thing.” Having left the café slightly later than expected, she had decided it was not worth returning to the office. Instead she felt like driving to help clear her head and mull things over with a little help from Rob.

  “Certainly, my lady,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “As you know it has to do with your life stream, which, as you have seen, is made up of many individual lives. It’s a cycle of reincarnation. Birth, life and death, birth, life and death.”

  “But it’s not a never-ending cycle, is it?”

  “No. Each life is built on the former lives, progressing towards the ultimate goal.”

  “Of breaking free from that chain,” said Ann, interrupting him.

  “Exactly.”

  “What was it you called it again? It was named after a classic rock group, wasn’t it Oasis or something?”

  “Nirvana,” said Rob, suspecting Ann was playing with him. “And the band was named after that ultimate goal, rather than the other way round.”

  “So, is everyone caught in this reincarnation chain?”

  “All humans are, yes.”

  “And my work colleague, Peter?” Ann asked after a moment of thinking.

  “Of course. He will have had other lives before he was Peter, and no doubt he will have many lives after this one. As will you, my lady. And at this speed, that next life may come sooner than you expect.”

  Ann glanced at Rob, frowning, “What do you mean?”

  “The car,” said Rob. “You are travelling twelve miles an hour above the specified limit for this road.”

  Ann sighed, easing her foot off the gas. “Driving too fast, moving too slow. I have to say, Rob, I don’t feel like I’m making much progress at the moment.”

  “That day will come,” said Rob with his most charming smile. “You just need to be patient, my lady. The little things matter just as much as the big things. They all work together in the process of karma.”

  “Little things like what?”

  With barely a moment’s hesitation, Rob said, “Take your visit to the hospital this afternoon. You didn’t have to go and see your injured colleague. And yet you took the time to do it.”

  “What little good that did. Peter didn’t even know I was there.”

  “That is not what matters when it comes to karma. Whether people see your good or not, that is of little consequence. It is what God sees that counts.”

  “So even little things like that help in my progress towards Nirvana? That’s certainly nice to know if it’s true. I have to admit, Rob, what with Peter’s accident, my relationship with Michael and the two visits to the psychic, I feel like I’m running on empty at the moment.” She paused at a set of traffic lights, momentarily lost in thought. “Rob,” she said suddenly.

  “Yes, my lady,” said Rob, eager as always.

  “Do you think I should carry on with this whole process of unearthing my past and finding out about my life stream, about my true self?”

  “As it says in the Bible: ‘Seek and ye shall find’.”

  As if coming to a decision, Ann flicked the indicators to signal right and set off from the lights. “Can you map out the best route back to the psychic’s place?”

  Rob nodded happily. “On it right now.”

  ~

  Ann looked around nervously as she climbed out of the car. Although this was the third time she had visited this area in the last couple of weeks, she still found the place unnerving. The empty streets and the deserted shop windows gave her a sense of sadness and foreboding. It was certainly not a friendly area.

  Having set the car to ultra-secure mode, Ann hurried along to the alleyway and ducked into the shadows. The children, who had been playing there when she first visited with Nina, were back again. This time they were kicking around an old football that was only half-filled with air. As Ann made her way along the alley, one of the boys struck the ball, which made a dull, hollow sound, and it landed by Ann’s feet. It did not bounce. She was about to kick it back to the children, but realized, just in time, that she was wearing heels. Instead she bent down and picked it up.

  “Hey!” said the boy, irritably. “That’s our ball! Give it back!”

  Ann tossed the ball to him and, shaking her head, carried on until she arrived at the doorway to the psychic’s home.

  As she pushed her way through the bead curtain, the old lady’s voice came from a room somewhere in the back of the house.

  “Go on in, Ann. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  How does she always know? Ann wondered, but opened the door to her right without a word and sat down on the couch. A few minutes later the psychic appeared carrying a tray with two cups and a steaming teapot.

  “Cup of tea, my dear?” asked the psychic.

  “Tea?” said Ann, surprised. “I can’t say I’m much of a tea drinker. Coffee’s more my thing.”

  “Oh, but this i
s a special tea.” The old woman gave her a mysterious look. “It’ll help you relax.”

  “Fine. I’ll give it a shot.”

  She sat there, growing increasingly impatient, as the psychic slowly stirred the contents of the tea pot and poured it, little by little, through a strainer, first into one cup and then into the other. At last, she picked up a cup and placed it on a saucer before inching it towards Ann with a shaky hand.

  Taking a sip, Ann immediately felt refreshed and calmed. She hadn’t realized quite how uptight and tense she had been feeling until, as if by magic, the feeling dropped away from her.

  “What’s in this stuff?” she asked.

  “Tea, of course. Just like I said.”

  Ann narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Is that all?”

  The psychic nodded as Ann took another sip. “Tea, yes. And a little cocaine.”

  Ann almost spat out the tea and began to choke. “Cocaine?” she managed to say between coughs.

  “Just my little joke,” said the old woman, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “It’s just tea and a few herbs. Legal herbs! It’ll help you relax, my dear, and rest after your day’s ordeals.”

  “I won’t ask you how you know about my day,” said Ann, finally recovering from her coughing fit. “But I certainly do feel more relaxed. I want to know more about my journey. I want to have a better understanding of my life stream and where I’m at in that reincarnation chain.”

  The psychic looked at her over the rim of her teacup. “I see,” she said. “You want to know if your life has purpose, yes?”

  “I guess so. Purpose and progress.”

  “Very well. If you would put your cup down on the table and lay back, we will begin.”

  Ann did so, arranging the cushions beneath her head to make herself as comfortable as possible. She closed her eyes, then sat up suddenly.

  “Just one thing though. Can you please show me something a little nicer than the other visions I’ve had? Something less tragic?”

  “I’m sorry, my dear,’ said the psychic, holding up her hands. “I can only help you to see what you need to see, but I cannot change what is past. The lives you have lived cannot be re-lived. What has happened has happened, and that is that. And what is wrong with a little tragedy, anyway? Everyone dies, you know. The point is to have lived first!”