When Jessie woke up, the sun had nearly set. The remnants of her latest odd dream tickled her senses so much, she knew she had to do something about it. Too many weird things were going on-from the numberless room, to that weird Madame Ceara, to her dreams and nightmares, and now, to the knowledge she seemed to have dredged up out of thin air.
Well, if there was one person who might be able to make sense of the arcane, Madame Ceara topped the list, and within fifteen minutes, Jessie stood in front of her shop, downhearted that the store was closed for the day.
Of course, Jessie thought, as she heaved a disappointed sigh. Maybe it was for the best. The woman, after all, sort of creeped her out. Her carriage bespoke someone who got her way, not some crazy woman who shuffled along scaring little children.
But Jessie was scared. Not of Madame Ceara, but of the bizarre things happening to her. She had never believed in ghosts or hauntings, or any of that psychic mumbo jumbo, but here she stood, in front of a store that catered to those who did believe all that crap. Here she was, wanting the psychic queen of the west coast to bail her out and explain how all of a sudden she knew what she'd heard, when she'd never even bothered to listen before. What she needed now was something that resembled an answer.
"Isn't in."
Looking over her shoulder, Jessie saw Tanner coming toward her. "Shop's closed."
"Apparently." Didn't this kid have anything else to do other than shadow her?
He wore his studded leather jacket about him like a cloak, an integral part of his identity. "She's waiting for you down by the marina."
Jessie's eyes widened. "What do you mean, waiting?"
Shrugging, Tanner jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. "You think she told me? Hardly. She just asked if I'd tell you she'll be there another fifteen." Tanner shrugged again. "So...how ya been?"
Jessie shrugged back and avoided his gaze. What was it about everyone in this town looking right in your face? "Just slaving my life away at the house on the hill."
"I'll bet. You know, if you ever wanna do something fun, you can always give me a shout."
"I don't have your number."
Tanner reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. "Gus told me you guys got wired for phones yesterday."
Who the hell was Gus?
Jessie took the card and looked at it. "We did. How come you have a business card?"
Tanner pushed his seventies'-length hair over his shoulders. "I have a business."
Jessie scanned the colorful business card in her hand.
Dirty Dog Design-when you need it now.
Tanner Dodd
Webmaster Extraordinaire/Computer Tech of Outstanding Skill
555-623-1984
DDog@dirtydogdesign.com
"Don't tell me you're a computer nerd."
"Among other things. I've been called a pothead, a deadhead, a meathead, and any number of other maligning names."
"Make any money doing it?"
Tanner nodded. "Enough to keep me in fine leather."
Jessie put the card in her back pocket. "Cool card. I'll keep your offer in mind, but I better jam. My folks don't know I'm gone."
"Yeah, and you don't want to keep Ceara waiting."
Just as Jessie looked to cross the street, her parents and Daniel drove right up to her. Her father rolled down his window and stared out, not at Jessie, but at Tanner.
"I thought you were staying at the house," Rick said, cutting his eyes over at Jessie before assaulting Tanner with the look only distrusting fathers can give.
Walking over to the car as nonchalantly as she could, Jessie forced a grin. "Just checking things out. It's taken you guys this long to find a movie?"
Daniel shoved his head out the window, oblivious to Rick and Reena's staredown of Tanner's tattered jeans and tough-guy jacket. "We ate ice cream at that place at the end of the road. That was the best ice cream I ever had!"
"Who's your friend?" Rick asked.
Before Jessie could answer, Tanner walked over and stuck his outstretched hand in Rick's window. "Tanner, sir. Tanner Dodd."
Rick took in Tanner's jacket as Reena leaned over to get a better look. "We hadn't realized you'd made any friends," came Reena's tight-lipped reply.
"I've met a few here and there." Jessie felt a flush of anger rise to her cheeks. They were judging Tanner, already leaning toward suspicion of what they might be doing together. She hadn't smoked dope in so long she'd actually forgotten when, but that hadn't kept them from smelling her clothes or her hair whenever she came home from any social event. Even here in Oregon, she'd caught Reena smelling her shirts before she did her laundry.
"Well," Reena said, "if you're through visiting, why don't you hop in and we'll give you a ride up the hill?"
Jessie shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm not through visiting."
Rick and Reena exchanged worried glances. "We brought you some ice cream," Daniel piped up.
Jessie grinned at him. "Thanks. I'll have some with you as soon as I get home."
"Which will be when?" Reena asked.
"Half an hour, forty-five minutes, something like that." Jessie wanted to scream at them to either trust her or to leave her alone, but instead she backed away from the car and motioned for them to move on their merry way.
"Nice meeting you, Tanner," Rick said.
Tanner stepped back up to the car reached into his back pocket and withdrew another business card. "If you need any web page design or other computer-related service for the inn, Mr. Ferguson, I'll cut you a good deal. The other B&B has WiFi, so if you need any help getting yours installed, give me a call."
Rick studied the business card long and hard before looking back up at Tanner. "You designed the card yourself, I take it?"
Tanner nodded. "Yes, sir. I can make something real catchy for the P-the Seaside Inn. A good business card is your first link to a community. The second link these days is your web page, and I can design both at a fraction of what the other guys in town do it for. Check it out. You'll see."
Reena took the card from her husband and studied it as well. "Where did you learn how to do this?"
"I'm a student at the University of Oregon's extension program over in Florence. They offer a couple of decent design programs."
Jessie couldn't stop smiling at his poise in the face of danger. What a very interesting person Tanner Dodd was turning out to be.
"We appreciate the offer, Tanner, and if we get that far, we might even give you a call." To Jessie he said, "Don't stay out too long, Jess. There's a load of lumber coming in in the morning, and we're going to need all hands on deck."
"Whew. They're sure wound tighter than a tick," Tanner offered as the Fergusons turned the corner and drove up the hill.
"You're telling me."
"They always been like that?"
Jessie shook her head. "Only about seventeen years."
"Well, Madame waits for no one, so you better get on it. Take it easy."
Halfway across the street, Jessie stopped and whirled back around. "Tanner?"
"Yeah?"
"How'd she-"
He chuckled. "She used her powers, I suppose. Go on, Jess. Don't keep her waiting."
She nearly ran to the marina. Odd how comfortable she now felt in this place-odd, the emotional comfort washing over her.
As she neared the tiny marina, Jessie looked around for the colorful garb worn by the gypsy-like woman, but didn't find her. "Used her powers," Jessie muttered, shaking her head slightly. What had that boring history teacher said last year? Faith is action based on belief.
"Just because we cannot see a thing, my dear, does not mean it does not exist."
Jessie whirled around, nearly tripping over a toy poodle on a pink leash. "You scared the hell out of me!"
Madame smiled softly and nodded. "I have a tendency to do that." Her grin broadened. "Now about faith-never mind the details of the picture until you can see the frame. Come. It is time for you to see both the picture and the frame." Madame Ceara turned abruptly then walked down the wooden pier to a smallish houseboat and waited for Jessie to join her.
"You live here?"
"I live everywhere, really. This is just where I keep my things." As Madame Ceara walked down the metal gangplank to her boat, her scarves whipped around in the wind, nearly snapping Jessie's face as she tried to keep up.
Below deck, Jessie followed her to a comfortable little cabin the size of an RV. Short, fat candles flickered with the sea breeze, illuminating the small area. On the small kitchen table lay several well-used ancient books. Stacks of Tarot cards lined the windowsill, and bright yellow paint gave off an eerie glow that made the shadows to dance and leap as if independent of the light. The entire cabin looked exactly as Jessie thought Madame Ceara's house would look.
"Would you care for some tea? Soda, perhaps?"
"No, thank you. I'm fine, really."
Madame Ceara sat at the small, beautifully carved oak table. "Are you, now?"
Jessie sat across from her at the table and almost started crying.
Reaching across the table, Madame Ceara patted Jessie's hand. "Now, now, dear, there's no time for that. There's work to be done and we're on a short leash and an even shorter timer." Opening one of her ancient texts, Madame Ceara read quietly for a moment, her lips moving slightly.
"Latin," Madame Ceara mumbled without looking up. "No wonder it's a dead language." The old woman folded her hands on top of the book. "Now, you're here for a lot of reasons, most of which you don't even know, but one of them, I can assure you, is because you are being beckoned to remember, and you simply cannot."
Jessie pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm going insane. Is that it? The drugs have royally messed me up, right? Because I don't think-"
"Oh, my dear, if you were to truly look deep inside yourself, you would know why you are really here. However, I can assure you why you are not here. You are not here so I can convince you of your sanity, as if sanity were even important."
"It is."
"Is it? Is it even anything you can define? Because I sure can't."
Jessie inhaled deeply. Well, she had sort of come here to discuss her sanity, but where to start? With the door? Her new knowledge? The dreams? Yes, that was it...
"I had a dream."
Madame nodded, a satisfied grin on her face. "Ah, a dream. That explains it."
"Explains what?"
Rising, Madame Ceara lit several sticks of incense before pulling out a second ancient text. "The dreams, the memories. So much of our lives could be explained to us if only we listened. But that's not all, is it?" Madame Ceara leaned closer and gazed into Jessie's eyes. "No, no it isn't. You've managed to find your way through the slit, haven't you?" Madame inched closer, her icy eyes grilling Jessie's. "Ah yes, I see it. You have actually been and returned." Madame Ceara picked up the book and held it to her chest, singing a song in a foreign tongue. For a moment, Jessie thought the rumors about her might be true.
"You have no idea the gift you have been given, my dear. A gift that not many people of this world or the next will have the chance to experience. You have stepped through a seam in the fabric of time, and you don't remember. That's a common occurrence for first-time travelers."
"Time travelers?" Jessie jumped out of her chair, wanting to run for the door, but her feet were rooted. "Are you nuts?"
"Some certainly think so. If I talk about time travel right now, you'll really think those boys might be right about me."
Jessie looked at the door. She wanted to go, but she didn't want to go. It was almost as if the conversation was too much to bear. "First off, I do not believe anything those dorks have to say. Secondly, I'm-I'm not afraid."
"Good. Because we have a lot to work to do."
"Work?"
"Yes. I'd say that our first mission is to get Jessie to remember whatever it is they want you to remember."
"Who?" Jessie looked around, as if someone were lurking in the shadows.
Madame Ceara chuckled gleefully and rubbed her wrinkled hands together. "Whoever is imploring you to remember. Someone came across to get you. Someone wants you to do something. I knew when I saw you, when I'd heard you were the one who'd moved into the Inn."
"That's it, isn't it? The inn is haunted. This is about the inn!"
Madame Ceara waved her off. "Haunted? Yes, there are beings gathered about, and they are none too happy, but this-this has nothing to do with them."
Jessie grabbed her head in her hands. She was living in a haunted house, but that had nothing to do with whatever weirdness was happening? "Then who are you talking about?"
Sitting back down at the table, Madame Ceara leaned over and laid her hand on top of Jessie's arm to still her. Then she slowly pulled her back to the table. "If you want to know what is happening to you, you'll sit here and listen. I do not have patience for disbelievers or naysayers. If you truly came here for answers, you will at least hear me out."
Jessie inhaled deeply, and sat down.
"Now, tell me exactly why it is you have sought me out. Leave nothing out, no matter how silly or odd it may be."
Jessie looked into those blue eyes and felt a calm wash over her. "It came all of a sudden. I know things I've never known before."
Ceara smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Excellent. Oh, you truly are going to be a quick study. Do go on."
Jessie hesitated. She didn't want to sound like she was completely unhinged.
"Tell me about the door."
Jessie leaned so far back she almost fell over. "You really can read minds!"
Ceara shook her head. "Not really. I just know there is a time portal in that house and I think you've gone through it and lived to tell about it. A feat not many accomplish."
Jessie sighed and leaned back.
"That door is the reason you're here right now. It may very well be the reason your family has come to Oregon. But that door in your inn has been waiting a long time for someone else to see it. Seeing it is one thing. Stepping through it is another story altogether. One cannot go through it without changing. The question is what did you see?"
Jessie closed her eyes and saw the forest, then quickly opened them. That had been no dream.
"My dear, you must suspend your belief in what you believe to be real. You must embrace ideas and notions that others would scoff at. Do not judge your vision or doubt your feelings. Do not doubt you. Trust that what you saw was what you saw."
"You said that to me the other day."
"Because so many of us see that which the world denies, and in our fear, we deny it ourselves. We deny what science cannot explain or even bear witness to. We deny the spiritual realm so as not to make others think we were not of sound mind. In this society we are all afraid of that which has not been scientifically proven. Do not be afraid. I will help you through this."
"Help me through what?"
"You tell me. What is it you've seen that scared you so?"
Leaning forward, virtually whispering, Jessie told her about the forest, and how she seemed to recognize everything that surrounded her in the woods behind the inn.
Ceara listened attentively, until Jessie said she could have sworn she'd seen an oak grove in the distance. When Jessie finished with what little else she could remember, Ceara clapped her hands together.
"That's it. Oh my, dear girl, you've found it!" Jumping up so quickly she knocked one of the candles over, Ceara clapped her hands again before throwing her arms around a stunned, and slightly scared, Jessie.
"Found what?"
Ceara reached across the table and took Jessie's hand in hers. For a long time, she just stared into Jessie's face. "Forgive me, my dear. It's just that I have waited a very long time for someone to be able to do what you did, and I'm just overly excited about it. Forgive an old woman her eccentricities."
"Can I get you some water or something? I mean I don't want you blowing an artery or anything."
"No, I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I feel like today is Christmas."
Jessie shook her head. "Umm, Ceara? I found a forest in the room of a third story, haunted inn. I'm sorry if I don't understand your joy in that, but-"
Ceara waved her off. "I am sorry, my dear. What happened after you opened the door and saw the forest?"
Jessie shook her head. "I looked down and I was wearing a robe. That's all I remember."
"But you did go in, and you do have a tiny memory of your time over there."
"I stayed in there about ten minutes, but where is there? What was that place? I don't understand."
"That's all right, my dear. No one is expecting you to get it all right the first time. The whole thing can be disconcerting, especially in this time. More will come to you later, but for now, we will just work with what you saw and experienced."
Jessie nodded. "That works for me."
"If that's all you remember for now, then tell me about these dreams of yours?"
"I don't remember much of those, either. The dream I keep having is of this red-haired young woman who is being chased through the forest by a Roman soldier."
Ceara leaned forward. "A Roman soldier?"
"Yeah. Wait. I don't know squat about Rome or Roman soldiers. How do I know this?"
"What kind of forest?"
"What?"
"What kind of forest? What trees are in the forest?"
Jessie reflected. "It's an oak grove, I think." She shook her head. "See what I mean? I never use the word grove. Where is this coming from?"
Ceara motioned for Jessie to continue.
"A super intense woman with gray eyes stands in front of me telling me to remember."
"Hmm. Interesting. Anyone else?"
Jessie nodded. "A tall, good-looking man who kinda looks like Jesus, and a short redheaded woman."
"What were they wearing?"
"I can't remember. I just remember seeing their faces and hearing them tell me that they wanted me to remember." Jessie sighed. "That's why I came here. I thought if I wasn't crazy, maybe you might know who they are and what they want."
Ceara nodded. "It's possible. Do you remember what the girl was wearing? The one who was being chased?"
Jessie nodded. "A robe. Yeah...she was wearing a robe like the gray-eyed woman. A different color, though, I think."
"Well done." Ceara leaned back and sighed. "You have let her in, and that's a great start."
"Who?"
"I can tell you nothing yet, except that you are most certainly not crazy, and don't you ever think that about yourself. There are plenty of people who are all too quick to label that which they do not understand. I should know. I have lived with the likes of those for too many years to count."
"Then what's happening to me?"
Ceara sighed and licked her lips. "Nothing is happening to you, my dear. You are not a victim of any sort of prank or sickness."
"Then what's going on?"
Ceara studied Jessie's features. "Promise me you'll sit through the whole explanation, reserving judgment and comments until I am through."
Jessie nodded again, feeling her stomach start the dance of the great butterfly. How could this woman be both so calming and so scary at the same time? "I want to know what's happening."
Ceara relit the candle she had knocked over. Incense wafted through the small cabin, smelling of lilac and cloves. She inhaled deeply and locked eyes with Jessie. The room became quiet and still.
"I went back in time?"
Ceara raised her white eyebrows. "What makes you think it was back?"
Jessie frowned. "Because there was this huge bonfire far away."
Ceara grinned. "You are remembering. Good."
Jessie ran her hand through her hair. "I guess I am. I mean it sure feels like a memory."
"It is. You see, most cultures who believe, like us, know that souls have memory. Eternal memories. They don't just live here with us, die, and then go to heaven or hell, as the Christians believe."
"Is that what this is all about then? Religion and time?"
Ceara shook her head. "Neither. It's about life, and the soul's approach to living that life. This is about something far deeper than tripping through the past like some time traveling tourist. This is about your soul...your soul and the people who have housed that same soul over the millennia. You have been invited by a past self to a place and time who must want or need something from you. The question is, are you interested in helping?"
Jessie was hooked. Interested? She was coming out of her clothes with excitement, fear, and trepidation. She had had a memory of something she had never done, she now knew things she didn't know she knew, and that void in her heart that had been there since birth was suddenly vibrating with life. "Interested is an understatement, Ceara. All my life I've felt like I had no purpose, no reason for being. I've done drugs, alcohol, sex, even shoplifting. I've felt lost. For the first time, I feel alive, and I don't even know why."
"But you want to know."
"I do."
"And you're willing to listen and leave your preconceived notions outside."
"I'll leave my underwear outside if it helps me understand what's happening."
This made Ceara laugh. "Tell me, what do you know about past lives or the transmigration of souls?"
"You mean, like reincarnation?"
"Well, not exactly, but close enough for now."
"To be honest, I've never really given it any thought."
"I see. Well, we believe-"
"Who's we?"
"Those of us who know. We believe the soul is on eternal time, and that time, as we know it, has a far different rhythm and pace than what we humans measure on a day-to-day basis. Eternal time is a much different idea because it's not linear. Scientists think time runs up and down a line, like a ruler, but the truth is, they don't really know."
Jessie leaned forward, her hair cascading across the table.
"When scientists do not know or cannot prove something, they spend all their time trying to disprove it. So far, no one has been able to measure time accurately or even figure out how it operates."
"I had a teacher once who believed the timeline was an inaccurate model for how time operates."
"Indeed. There are hundreds of documented instances when someone knows something they shouldn't be able to know. We believe this knowledge comes from the soul's memory."
Jessie shook her head. "You've lost me."
"Ever read stories about five-year-olds able to play Mozart? Or seven-year-old violinists symphonically superior to people who spent most their lives training? How about the dozens of people who wake up from comas fluent in a language they've never studied?"
Jessie's mouth hung open as she nodded. She remembered Wendy reading something to her out of People Magazine once about an eight-year-old chess player who'd beaten a world champion. "Those stories are incredible."
"Incredible yes, and also very true. The question everyone's asking is, how. Well, there are many of us who know how. It is the soul's memory remembering things it did in another time and another place. What other answer is there for kids who can graduate from college at eleven, or play Beethoven before even having lessons? Or even more incredibly, kids who can give you accurate directions to a place they've never been?"
"The Christians would call it a miracle."
"It does sorta seem that everything we don't understand is either a curse or a miracle." Jessie shrugged. "Maybe it's true."
"In terms of understanding time, we are in the Dark Ages. Did you know that most of the world's people do not believe the soul lives one life and then goes to heaven or hell? The majority of the world outside Christendom agrees that the soul moves on and takes with it fragments of memories." Ceara cast a glance down at her hands.
"So, you're saying that my soul is remembering something from a past life."
Ceara nodded slightly, her cool blue eyes studying Jessie. "And it's clearly trying to prompt you to remember more. Your soul is not your own, my dear. You have shared it with dozens of others, and someone from your past is trying to get you to remember more."
"How? How can they do that?"
"By coming through time and prodding your soul to remember. You left the seam and went outside of your own time. You went somewhere, Jessie, and returned with fragments of memories from that time. Suddenly, you were remembering things you did not know you knew. You may not have known them, but your soul does. It remembered."
"Just thinking about it makes my head spin."
"But there is so much more to it, Jessie. You see, the key isn't just in our eternal souls; the key is also in understanding time and how it moves." Ceara pulled one of her scarves off and set it straight on the table. "We're taught that time is like this. We study time lines in school, but we don't really know for a fact that time moves only forward along a straight line. It's a guess. Just like the pre-Renaissance people guessed that the earth was flat. Well, sure, that's how it appears when you look into the horizon, but we now know that's not true. Well, time as a straight line is also not true. If it was, it would go against all other defining principles of life."
"Such as?"
"All of the other cycles of life." Taking the scarf, Ceara put it in a circle so that both ends were touching. "Our world operates on cycles. The seasons, our periods, the moon, weather, and life and death are all cyclical. The most fundamental aspects of our culture, of life itself, run in cycles. Why wouldn't time?"
Jessie inched forward. "So, if the soul is eternal and is capable of retaining memories of earlier lives, and time is not linear, then are you telling me it's possible that we can actually go to another place in time?"
"Not in your body, no, but your soul? Yes, and I believe that is what's happening to you. I believe you've found one of the seams, and your soul slipped back into the body of whoever had it back then. Perhaps you were called, perhaps you merely stumbled upon a memory you did not know you had, but something drew you to that place."
"No way," Jessie whispered softly. "My soul went somewhere without me?"
"Without your body, yes. Without your conscious being, yes. Your soul has been housed in a variety of bodies in a variety of ages. When you step through a portal, your body stays here, and your soul returns to the body it possessed then. In effect, it slips back into itself."
"So you're saying my soul traveled to this other time because someone called to me and invited me."
Ceara nodded. "Jessie, the person who shares your soul is trying to get you to remember something."
"How can you be so sure? How do you know I just haven't fallen through the rabbit hole and I'm the one who has started it all?"
Ceara leaned back and steepled her fingers. "Because you had no concept of eternal souls, of time, or time travel. You did not call. You were beckoned."
Jessie had felt beckoned. She still felt beckoned, as though there were a voice in the back of her head calling her name. It was eerie and exciting all at once. "And I answered. I opened whatever you keep calling it."
"I call it a portal, but those who study time travel refer to it as a seam. Some of them believe the UFOs people have seen are merely beings slipping in and out of these seams."
"It all sounds so science-fiction."
Ceara nodded slightly. "The idea of heart transplants, of artificial insemination, of skin grafting, of stepping onto the moon, of helicopters and missiles, once seemed fantastical, too, didn't they? But they did happen. If Michelangelo had been told about digital cameras and color printers, he'd have mocked the notion. Just because the idea seems ludicrous at the time does not mean it cannot happen. You came to Oregon to a house with a seam and a spirit who called your name. Does it have to be so hard to believe?"
Jessie sat quietly gathering her thoughts, questions, and many suppositions as to what to do now. Being called to the past was one thing...answering that call was something entirely different.
"I don't want to be a guinea pig here, Ceara, you know, with the press-"
"No! This is not something for anyone else to know, Jessie. You could put your family in great danger. You could find yourself facing a team of doctors wanting to dissect your mind."
"I get the picture."
"When DaVinci was trying to make the airplane, many thought he had lost his wits. What's important for you to understand is that whoever is calling you from the past is alive in his or her time. Do not put them in danger by feeling the need to share this."
"Like anyone would believe me."
"You never know."
"I'm supposed to be remembering something and I have no idea what that is. Can't you hypnotize me or something? Do one of those past life regressions?"
"Much of what is brought out during hypnosis comes from selective memories. Many mediums try, and I'm sure many succeed, but I believe there is too much working in the subconscious to know whether or not it is the soul revealing itself, or if the other layers of the mind are at work. It is for that reason that I, myself, do not do past life regressions."
Jessie ran her hand through her hair again and sighed. "Why can't I remember? Am I stupid or something?"
"Can you tell me what you ate on the fourth day of your third year?"
"Of course not."
"Why not?"
"Because it's impossible to remem-oh." Jessie nodded again. "If my soul's been around a long time, there are a hell of a lot of memories to sort through, huh?
"More than you can imagine. And if your soul has come for a reason, it must first become comfortable in this body in this time. It is not easy to go into eternal time where your soul exists and tap into the soul memory."
"Then all of us carry our pasts around inside us?"
Ceara stared into the candle flame. "And we do not just carry past memories, either. Remember, my dear, time is not on a continuum."
"It's not hard to accept the past part, but how can you carry the memory of something that hasn't happened yet?"
Blowing the candle so that it jumped and flickered, Ceara leaned back. "Just because it hasn't happened on this plane, at this time, doesn't mean it hasn't happened yet."
"Whoa, now you've really lost me."
"Take Leonard DaVinci again. The man envisioned the airplane four hundred years before it was invented. He actually invented the parachute."
"No way."
Ceara nodded. "Now, can anyone reasonably explain how it is that a man would invent the parachute four hundred years before it was needed? Did DaVinci remember a memory from another life? Because surely, if we believe in past lives, then how can we deny an existence of future ones as well?"
"In for a penny, I guess." Jessie sighed loudly. As bizarre as this conversation was, it all felt so...real, and real was important to a person who had spent too much of her youth in an unreal state.
"Look at the pyramids. It took the Egyptians twenty years to build the great pyramid at Giza, yet, even with our advanced technology, we would be hard-pressed to do the same today. What did they know that we still do not know? Did they get their knowledge from somewhere in our future? And what of Galileo and Copernicus, Shakespeare and Champollion?"
"Champ-who?"
"Champollion. He deciphered the Rosetta Stone after almost twenty years and dozens of other attempts by men far more brilliant than he. What did he have that they didn't?"
"A dictionary?"
Ceara smiled softly. "Close. Isn't it possible he had prior knowledge they did not?"
Jessie sat back, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's mind-boggling. That stuff'll really make your head spin if you think about it for too long."
"You said you have been looking for a purpose, Jessie, a reason to do something important that you're passionate about. Answering this call might be the very thing you've been searching for. There are no coincidences in life, my dear."
"God, to have a purpose, a reason to get up in the morning...what a gift."
"Not a gift, Jessie, but a path, a way. Those of us who are able to find our purpose find a happiness unlike anything the rest of the world experiences. Each one of us has a destiny. If you can unveil yours, you have found your life's path, and you can begin your journey in earnest. Too many of us spend the bulk of our lives on the wrong path going nowhere except wrong turns and dead ends.
Running her hands through her hair, Jessie sighed. "I've sure been there. I am so tired of being lost."
"The good news is you don't have to be. Someone is reaching out to you. I can tell you that those people in your dreams must be part of your soul's memory."
"So now what? What do I need to do?"
Ceara stared at the candle for a long time. When she spoke, she did not look up. "You need to go back through the seam."
Jessie inhaled slowly. This didn't surprise her, but her breath caught anyway. "Why?"
"How else are you going to find out what they need if you don't go back?"
"What if I never remember?"
"Jessie, whoever is trying to get your attention believes you can remember. The very fact that you've been through once already means you have what it takes. You have to believe that you have it as well."
Before Jessie could answer, she caught sight of the clock. They'd been talking for over an hour. Her parents were sure to think the worst. "I really appreciate your help, Ceara, but I better get going. My folks will worry. We have some...trust issues."
Ceara glanced up at her now. "Aren't you trustworthy?"
Jessie leveled her gaze at Madame Ceara. "I am now."
Ceara rose, wrapping her scarf around her again. "Good. When might you return?"
"Here?"
She shook her head. "There."
Jessie stared into those eyes and felt as if she could see hundreds of years into the past. "I'll go back, but don't I need to research or at least know something about where I'll be sending me?"
Ceara shook her head again. "The soul knows what needs to be done, if you allow it. That's part of our time's greatest dilemma: we try to solve everything by listening to our minds or our hearts, neither of which are very old or very wise."
Jessie followed Ceara out onto the deck. The air was markedly cooler since she'd come on board.
"Jessie, I realize how scary this must be for you, but somewhere in your past, you were brave enough to slip through the Sacred Place. You are there in your past and you are reaching out to yourself in this time. You were a brave being once. Be brave now."
Jessie sighed. "That's a head shaker, you know? To think that I used to be someone else and that someone is knocking on my door. Weird."
"Indeed. Weirder than you can imagine."
"This Sacred Place. It exists in all times?"
Ceara nodded. "It is believed by Shamans of many different cultures that the seams in time are everywhere and in every time. Many Native Americans believe it; tribes of the Aborigines believe it; Amazonian people believe it, and many, many more cultures feel that the power of our souls comes from the lives we've led."
Jessie stared up at the moon and sighed loudly. "Who do you think I saw in those forests in my dream?"
Ceara stared up at the moon also before returning her gaze to Jessie. The wind whipped her scarves around her neck. "If the forests you saw were oak groves, and the woman was trying to reach them because she thought they would protect her, then I would imagine the people who are trying to contact you are Druids. They were most known for their sacred worship in the oak groves of Britain and Wales."
"Druids?" Jessie pondered this a moment before starting across the plank to the pier. "You mean, like Merlin?"
Ceara nodded as she tried to catch the many colorful layers whipping all about her. "The Druids are certainly not the only ones who can send their souls on a journey, nor are they the only people who have these Sacred Places. Quite a few have been unearthed, all throughout Europe, Africa, and Australia."
"Like Stonehenge?"
"Among others. The seams, as you know by now, are not obvious. That is the beauty of them. They are hidden until they're needed, and they can be anywhere and everywhere. They can be in the sacred groves, in the coves on beaches, and in Victorian Inns. Just know that you're not alone. If you concentrate really hard, I'll be there. Most questers do not journey by themselves. Nor shall you."
"Quester? Is that what I am?"
"That, and so much more, my dear. You have before you a decision that will alter the direction of your life forever. By returning to find out what it is they want, you are choosing the life of a quester. With that choice comes a great many dangers and responsibilities."
As Jessie started down Main Street, she felt one burden lifting while another settled comfortably on her shoulders. Like a beautiful new jacket, it felt made just for her.
Suddenly, life in Oregon had taken on a whole new meaning.