Short Fiction

“I had many dreams of your father before I actually met him.”

Jennifer couldn’t help but recall her mother’s often-repeated story, especially when she had just such a dream last night.

“I couldn’t quite remember what he looked like once I woke up and it was always disappointing – until I saw your father’s wonderful face for the first time. Then it was as though I’d seen his face every day of my life.” Her mother’s story always had that part in it. Mom was lucky.

Jen’s dream had to be a product of her mother’s legend and her own upcoming thirtieth birthday. If only it hadn’t been so incredibly real! She could almost taste his kiss on her lips. Unfortunately for Jen, she could remember every detail of his very wonderful face. And body.

The first dream “glimpse” of him had been on the innocent side. He’s come out of a private residence, alone, around midnight, looking less than happy. He walked briskly past her but stopped. Turning around, his gaze focused on her as though looking at a strange apparition.

“Who are you?” he demanded. He stepped toward her with a hand reaching out to her, pleading for an answer. “Why are you following me?”

Just as his long fingers almost touched her arm, Jennifer woke up!

She paced for an hour afterwards with the feeling she’d seen him many times before. Dark blond hair and smoldering green eyes mesmerized her in a way no one in real life did. In the days that followed, Jen wished for the bliss of forgetfulness. His image was seared into her brain.

After that first brief “vision”, each subsequent encounter with the stranger grew more intimate, intense, and real. This last one almost shoved her over the edge, screaming – for more!

She’d found herself in his house, moving toward his bedroom. It was late and he, with hair tousled, was asleep in the middle of a double bed. She glided into bed with him, kissing him awake. His arms automatically encircled her and his lips were responding to her with a …

Jennifer had to call her Mom. Enough was enough. Too much, in fact.

As she dialed the phone, Jen chided herself with, “Maybe, if you’d just married your childhood sweetheart like everyone expected – maybe you wouldn’t be such a KOOK! A divorcee or a murderer, perhaps – but not a kook!”

“Hello!” Her mother’s greeting was always cheerful. This time it was also irritating.

“Hi Mom.” Without meandering, Jen asked what was foremost in her mind. “How long did you have those dreams about Pop before you actually met him?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh…… About a year and a half.”

Jen groaned.

“What’s wrong honey? Oh! Are you having them?”

“Fraid so.” Jennifer pursed her lips.

“Well, prepare yourself, Jenny doll. Your Grandmother went through the same thing.”

“A year and a half – of absolute torture?”

“How long have you been having them?”

“A month,” Jen whined.

Her mom laughed. “When you’ve been with him for forty years, you’ll laugh at how long a year and a half seemed. Enjoy the anticipation.”

“If I manage to live through it,” Jennifer grumbled. “You know, Mom, I didn’t think I wanted to have a serious relationship – until these dreams started. Now this nameless stranger is as real as anyone I actually know. At times, I feel I know him well enough to pick up the phone and dial his number, if I could just remember it.”

“Well, that’s how you know he’s the one for you. So be patient, hon. He’s on the way, so to speak. Oh, and welcome to Clan Coven.” That eyebrow of her Mom’s must be raised in sarcastic amusement, Jen imagined.

After the conversation, Jennifer wasn’t exactly willing to be patient and sit around waiting. She wanted to know if there was a name for this phenomenon and whether it ever happened to anyone else but the weird women of her family. Where could she find out? The library was about the best place to start.

On the hurried drive over, she mentally listed what it might be. Precognition. Esp. Maybe the dreams were really out-of-body experiences – that would explain why he seemed surprised to “see” her. Yet, one of the dreams was like a premonition of the future with a baby girl sleeping in a crib in a cozy nursery. That dream really shook her up since she’d convinced herself there would be no children in her future. Surprisingly, she ached to hold that – her – dream baby.

Once in the library, Jennifer zeroed in on the aisle of books dealing with strange phenomenon and paranormal experiences. There were a lot more books on the subject than she cared to read. Which ones held a key to understanding what she was going through? Maybe none. Jen was beginning to wonder why she was wasting her time.

As she held one of the books, a tingling sensation coursed through her. A feeling of anticipation made her look up.

Someone was looking at her from the other side of the shelf.

Smoldering, hypnotic green eyes stared at her through the gap between books left on the shelf. Those eyes – his eyes!

Jennifer heard a thud from his side that sounded like a book hitting the floor.

He did not relinquish eye contact with her.

He said in a whisper, “Who are you?”

“Jennifer,” was all she could say.

“Have you ever seen me before?” His voice was even harder to hear now.

“Yes.”

“Thank God,” his words came out shaking with the breath he’d been holding. He closed his eyes and held them shut for a long moment. “I was beginning to – well, if you’ve seen me then you know how confusing it’s been? You are real, aren’t you – I’m not hallucinating now, am I?”

“No – you’re not. And – yes – I know how confusing and …” Jennifer could feel the blush set her face on fire. If he was relieved to hear she’s seen him, then he must have seen and felt certain things she had. His eyes grew darker as he obviously began recalling a few of those intense moments, too. “I’m not sure how real any of this is, but… I am real,” she finished. “Who are you?”

“Nick.” He stretched his hand out through a gap in the shelf.

Jennifer slowly touched one of his fingers with hers. Then took his hand. “I was afraid I’d wake up and this dream would end.”

“Strange, I was never asleep when I saw you.”

“I was never awake.” There was shakiness in her voice.

He squeezed her hand, saying, “Maybe we can make a dream come true for both of us.”

We weren’t trying to focus on my monitor and didn’t even notice it until we felt nothing was going on at all in the photos taken during that session – except for some odd light balls that are so dang typical of our psychic shots that it doesn’t even seem worth talking about.

This is a pic of my monitor before the pic on it started to morph….. Extra info – I didn’t change what I was looking at on the monitor during the photo session because I was trying to “help” the camera pick up something – shall we say……. I will tell you up front, there was no picture of a face on my monitor at all – I had a text document open that I was reading. (Phat Cat was next to me as usual, moving around a bit to lay down.)

We took a few pics and the face formed more and more in each frame……..

Sorry it was so out of focus but we were just planning on deleting all of the pics after looking them over. Actually, this corner of the pic is a small part of the overall pics we were taking. The camera we were using is not our best one either.

I’m not offering these shots as proof of anything at all. In fact, I would say that the face seems to resemble my great Uncle Frederick – who was my Grandmother’s brother and had passed on a long time ago – but it could just as easily have been a video I might have been watching or something. Thinking about my Dear Old Uncle Frederick – when I was a kid, after he had passed away, we’d smell the cigars he used to smoke way upstairs in an area that he never went while at my parent’s house.

These days in this city house, we smell toast in the middle of the night for some odd reason. Over the last 5 years, I’ve made toast about 3 times – so it’s not a regular occurrence. Besides, we got a new toaster about 2 years ago and used it twice. Not much demand for toasted stuff here.

Shrugs – who knows why?

I’ll try to discuss things a bit more on this blog but, if you Google Marlaine’s, MarlaineMarie, Marlaine’s Musings, Duelin Deals Blog by Marlaine, StoreHows.com blog by Marlaine, wellllllllllllllllllll – you get the idea. I do a lot of writing. Kind of TappityTap busy all the time. You should see the cartons of spirals I’ve got tucked away in closets and the basement. My Writing files on the computer – I don’t even put that in My Documents! I’ve been writing so much that I actually forgot about this visually soothing blog. It’s actually one of my favorite backgrounds.

What made me think of this is the fact that I wrote an article for eHow about How To Reverse An Unauthorized ACH Debit – and it all started when I had that OOOOOOOOOOOhhhhhOOOOOOOOOOOO feeling. I’ll add what I said on Marlaine’s Musings about it here………….

I put up a new article on eHow today that actually was because of a real life situation that really upset me a great deal. It happened on my brother’s (Cyclecyco, alias Bear) birthday. The link isn’t set yet because they are still in the process of approving it. eHow has become much more like a regular hard copy magazine now with it’s editorial guidelines and submission process which makes it more of an accomplishment when they do accept your article.

Ok – they accepted it and the article How to Reverse An Unauthorized ACH Debit (eHow removed it from my article library), is up and readable. There was an odd element to this whole incident that I couldn’t discuss in the article – of course. When my brother, Prime, and I were watching a movie we rented for Cyclecyco’s birthday after midnight – I suddenly got this really antzzzzzy, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. For me, that’s a head’s up from the ethereal world. Believe me, it is a pain to get these signals, especially when you have no idea where it’s coming from and you are trying to enjoy yourself. So – while CC had a cig during “an intermission” – Prime and I have both quit that yucky and expensive habit – I called my automated bank and heard that there was a debit just under $300 that I had no idea what it was for!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I go open and zero in on what is going on – and I “heard” checking account. Prime will attest to this because he was a bit ticked that I was taking care of business at such a weird hour and day!) I am telling you this here because the bank manager, who has become a real life friend, told me that incidents involving this kind of third person debit is becoming more and more common! Soooooooo……… head’s up everybody! I am someone so careful with my personal info that I NEVER even carry my check book with me! The bank manager and I discussed everything I did and narrowed it down to the use of a debit card at a Dollar Store! Be safe and check up on your bank balance frequently, either by phone or internet! The article does what it says – tells you what to do if it happens to you.

I talked to my friend, the bank manager, after all was taken care of and told her about having an odd feeling but realized that would have sounded lame if she didn’t know me and I was still trying to get the debit reversed! I’ve never had anything like this happen to my checking account before. I actually called the auto-teller line minutes after that dang debit was posted to my account!

I’ve had this radar most of my life – the only time I didn’t was when I was actively denying I could hear it. As one of the past post on this blog says, I was about 5 when such a major incident happened that I can still remember it second to second as if it is happening now.

Just thought you might like to read this. When Brad was only 2 (about 1980) we went up to Ballina, Australia, to stay with my sister and her husband. My brother-in-law took me out to see The Lismore Cross, and Yes it did glow very brightly!!!!! We went at about 9pm so was already dark out and there were no other lights around. There was no moon that night either because there was a bit of cloud cover. It was like looking at a neon light!! We checked it out and there was no where for any artificial lighting to be used that could be seen – no possible way that the stone was artificial or could be lit from inside it!!!!!

The original cross and gravesite of William Steenson – picture taken in October 1927. This is the way it looked during the day. Note, looks like a very typical gravestone of the period.

The original cross “glowing” – photograph by Warren Croser published in The Northern Star on 6 April 1984.

On September 30th, 1907, William Thomas Thurling Steenson, a 29 year old railway worker, died as a result of a shunting accident while trying to stop a runaway train carriage or hopper at nearby Mullumbimby. He was buried in what was then called the North Lismore Pioneer Cemetery on Terania Street in the outskirts of town in Lismore, Northern NSW, Australia. In 1978, seventy years after his death, the story of Mr. Steenson’s glowing gravestone gained the attention of media, leading to global attention.
It was discovered than some of the locals had known about the glowing stone for more than 60 years but had kept it quiet trying to avoid the very religious fervor the crowds were starting to display. The locals began noticing the glow sometime during World War I – 1914 to 1918. The stone glowed sporadically at first, but sometimes for a week at a time. It seemed to increase in illumination power until it glowed 24 hours a day but was only truly visible from twilight til dawn. The cross was made of Balmoral red granite from Scotland, and bore a carving of a Masonic compass-and-square symbol below the name. Even though he was a member of several fraternal lodges, Mr. Steenson had no outstanding interest in religious or occult matters. An out-of-towner happened upon it and started spreading the word. Before that, it was often used as a prank to scare newcomers in town – usually children were offered a penny if they would go read the name off the stone… after dark of course.

The cemetery stopped any a new burials soon after Mr. Steenson’s death, possibly because they knew it was glowing. It was in quite a neglected state, with overgrown weeds and gravestone deterioration when the media controversy began in 1978. As the rumors of a glowing or ‘fiery’ cross started to draw crowds in the hundreds, it forced the locals to set the cemetery to rights. Soon people from all over Australia & beyond, and from every walk of life came to see the stone.

The locals began to see even more vandalism from the faith healers, scientists, religious ‘pilgrims’, psychics and the curious that were flooding the town. Vandals and souvenir hunters, alike, were using hammers, stone chisels and even rocks to chip off pieces of gravestone. People wanted to be healed, wanted to rub the stone for luck, or wanted a chunk of it as a relic or lucky piece. Some just wanted to talk to it, wanted enlightenment from it, or wanted to witness the paranormal phenomenon for themselves. Even though the townspeople wanted the notoriety to stop, the local papers ran articles about the phenomenon, explaining it as some kind of reflection of the red granite from the street lights or the moon. The nearest street light was nearly a kilometer away and it seemed to glow even when there was no moon, as my Mother-In-Law witnessed for herself. Surely, the Steenson’s gravestone is not the only one made of red granite from Balmoral. Some believe it was absolutely supernatural in origin. Perhaps some sort of phosphorescent quality? None of the tests run on the stone could determine the light’s source for sure.
In 1986, while in a period of fresh media attention, the gravestone disappeared. Not a trace of the stone could be found. The pedestal that it rested on does not exude any light on its own.
Two years later a replica was constructed from the same Balmoral red granite and set exactly as the original, but light has never shone from it. The original has never been recovered. Evidently, wherever it is, it is not in the public view, or it no longer glows. Hopefully, Mr. Steenson’s relatives, who did not want the world to know about the stone to start with, can quietly recede back into obscurity.
There has been talk by a few locals of a glowing gravestone in the small north-western in a cemetery in the town of Mungindi, a border town between Queensland and NSW, but I could find no evidence to support the story. After all, I know that some Australians love to warn tourists about Drop Bears – said to be unusually large, vicious, carnivorous koalas that inhabit treetops and attack their prey by dropping onto their heads from above – don’t they?

A Fictional Story

Where Are All The Good Christmas Stories?
by
Marlaine Marie Floyd

Jeff Hawkins scanned the entrance of the Southridge Mall as he flicked his stubby cigarette aside. With a sigh, he lifted his lip into a sneer and entered the third jam packed mall of the day. Better start looking harder, he told himself. There were a few more days left before the deadline. Nothing to worry about – but no reason to put it off either.

Ah, the holidays. Such a glorious time of year. Ha!

“But, I WANT it, Mommie!”

How many times had he heard that phrase or variation of it in the last couple of hours? Jeff watched the probable parent yank the child’s arm, parent and child both scowling.

Five, four, three, two, ah…

The kid’s bellowing bawl broke out right on time.

Hmmm… A Christmas story. Human interest. Last minute filler for his newsletter. Nothing at home to draw from. Only walls, a decent DVD collection and the few items that his – now - ex “let” him keep. Oh, well… No use rehashing it. No use beating himself up again. They weren’t right for each other – point blank. At least they didn’t have kids to squabble over. Maybe it was a good thing she talked him out of having a baby. Pinching the bridge of his nose kept more memories from blowing out.

Well, the Milwaukee area retailers must be celebrating, considering how many people were carrying purchases. At least some people are happy. Most of the kids he’d seen today weren’t, and the measure of their moods reflected on their mothers’ faces.

A tinkling tune played from some shop. Silver Bells, AGAIN. If he heard that one just one more time, he’d give up and go home. Something he could copy and paste could probably be found on the net. Why was he wasting his energy and time anyway? A brew in his hand and his rear in a form fittin’ chair, Googlin’ …….ahhhhhhhhhhh. Nope, he needed the real exercise. ‘Sides, if something didn’t turn up soon, that chair will still be there.

Jeff shoved off a wall he hadn’t been aware he’d been leaning on. A woman swooshed by in a smug huff as he joined the flow of human traffic. She just missed him, but her purse didn’t. Catching on the wrist snap of his down filled jacket, it wrenched at her shoulder, twirling her to face him. Glaring him in the eye, she yanked it back to its proper place.

“Humph!” she huffed at his attempted apology before whooshing away on her original course. The dimple and the dark red hair usually worked on the ladies, but not on that old crab, Jeff thought.

Grumbling low, Jeff said, “Doesn’t anyone know how to take it easy? Where the hell is that Christmas spirit everyone talks about?”

“Let me know when you find it, eh?” A lean, young man threw the comment over his shoulder as he strode past. No use pointing out to the guy that he was just as bad as everyone else. He was already out of hearing range.

An oversized plaid coat caught his eye in front of an information booth ahead of him. The young man behind the desk did not seem impressed with the plump woman’s plight.

“Are you sure no one turned it in?” she asked with a sniffle. There was a desperate edge to her voice. “Please look again. It was the last thing my father gave me before he died.” She choked back a sob as she watched every movement of the employee’s hands. “Oh God! It was such a beautiful watch. Dainty and etched – 14k gold with two diamonds!” The sob escaped and turned into a wail.

Jeff figured whoever picked it up has already gotten a great Christmas gift this year. No use looking for it – probably wrapped and tagged if the finder didn’t want to keep it themselves. Well, no matter. He had to latch on to something for a story soon. His newsletter needed a warm and fuzzy something to get his traffic up. More traffic – more ad money.

The crowd was really getting thick. There had to be a sweet, heartwarming story around here somewhere.

Two teenage girls darted past him and around others, giggling over their shoulders. Two teenage boys followed close behind. Geezomighty! They almost ran into an elderly woman. Don’t these kids have any respect?

The old lady yelled, “Watch where you’re going, young people!” She swung two plastic grocery bags out of their path in an exaggerated motion, pursing her lips as an added reprimand. A carton of eggs topped one of the bags. What was she doing in a mall with a week’s worth of food anyway? Jeff looked past her to the exit door and barely made out a bus stop sign through the falling snow. Yeah, ok, good reason.

Oh hell, this direction wasn’t getting him anywhere but farther away from the parking lot where he parked. Might as well go back to the escalator and look around in the upper level. Turning a box step corner, he pushed into the flow moving in the other direction.

When he passed the info booth again, the woman who had lost the watch was still crying nearby. But now the employee was smiling at a pretty young woman as he pointed out directions. Too bad mall owners didn’t hire older people with more compassion. Shaking his head, Jeff probed the crowd for something interesting.

A little boy ran full speed out of a toy store, ramming into an elderly gentleman.

“Gott im Himmel!” the old man shouted. He steadied the boy and himself, his eyes flaring. Then the old codger walked on, cussing in German, occasionally frowning over his shoulder in the boy’s direction.

As Jeff passed the boy, tears and a pout formed. His mama must have said no to something or another. Why can’t they leave the brats at home?

A young woman past him fast. A puff of air hit his face, chilling his skin. Faster than a speeding bullet, Jeff mused.

Long golden hair draped her royal blue coat like a shawl. Nothing wrong with checking out a blond who was probably pretty. Besides, she was heading for the escalator, too. Might as well keep an eye on her.

There was something oddly different about her. She moved as though gliding on skates, or something. She wasn’t carrying a purse or any shopping bags. That was unusual. Ahh… Something interesting. Maybe, just maybe…

A shiver went down the back of his neck. Yup, story radar just kicked in. She must be pretty – really pretty. Men and women walking toward her couldn’t seem to look away from her.

The sound of a Salvation Army bell ringer drew his attention for a moment. A quick fishing in his pocket caught a few dollars worth of change. He threw it into the big red pot without glancing at the person attached to the hand ringing the bell. A woman’s soft voice thanked him as he nodded in her direction. At least he’s done his bit for the Christmas spirit.

The blond was still gliding toward the escalator. Jeff looked beyond her to the group of people she would have to bowl over to keep up her pace. Good, he’d catch up. Skirting around them easily, she reached the bottom of the rising steps without losing any speed. How the ….? Jeff was not surprised when she kept zooming up the treads. He’d have to double time it now to stick with her, and that was not going to be easy in this crowd. The track that had opened for her zipped shut for him. Maybe the blond would only be able to climb halfway up, unless she intended to elbow her way through the pack in front of her. She couldn’t be that rude – he hoped.

A woman and a little girl were on the tail end of the group. The girl stood on the step below the woman. Even from his position, Jeff could hear the girl’s shoes tapping on the step. Tap, tap, tap… tap, tap, tap. The kid must be taking tap dancing lessons and practicing. She stepped up… tap tap. She stepped down.. tap tap. The blond was about halfway up the empty space but the kid wouldn’t have noticed if someone was behind her anyway. Up a step, tap, down a step, tap tap. Up a step, tappity tap. As she tapped a foot on the lower tread, the other foot began to teeter-totter. The girl’s arms began windmill motions to try to keep upright. Only the blond would be able to save the girl from a long, hard fall if she lost her bid for balance. Strangely, no one else had stepped onto the escalator behind the blond. Each second was taking them higher.

The girl began to tumble backwards!

“Look out!” Jeff yelled. Even before he could finish the second word, the blond’s arms shot up and snared the girl around the waist. He expelled the breath he was holding as the blond gathered the girl into a safe hug. When the girl’s head lifted, Jeff could see the sudden fear melt away as she looked into the blond’s eyes. The girl wrapped her arms around the blond’s neck, eyes shining with love. A relative or something?, Jeff thought.

They were reaching the top and after one last hug, the blond put the girl down. The mother turned just enough to see and take the girl’s hand as they stepped off the escalator. The child wouldn’t take her eyes off her rescuer. Her mother yanked at the hand to get her attention. Noticing the smile on her daughter’s face, she glared over her shoulder. For a brief moment, her eyes flickered over the younger woman with suspicion. Then the glare softened, turned in something like awe, and the woman smiled. Both the woman and girl stumbled a bit on the top tread, neither able to look away from the blond woman. With obvious effort, the mother pulled the girl’s hand and the two headed for a nearby store, both glancing back at the lady with the long blond hair over and over.

Jeff was at the bottom of the escalator, ready to step aboard, when the blond walked over to the treads to come down again. His mouth dropped open. Her face was radiant. Backing off the platform, he heard a woman grumble behind him. He didn’t pay attention. He didn’t care.

As the young woman rode down, Jeff noticed she wasn’t rushing anywhere anymore. Had she known the girl might fall? No, that was a little far fetched. Wherever she’d been going probably didn’t matter now after saving a kid’s neck. She hadn’t told the mother, she hadn’t asked for a reward, she didn’t even look back at them now, and she wasn’t even out of breath.

Here was his story. About quiet little miracles.

She looked at him as she stepped off the treads. Her eyes reached right to his endorphin factory. His reaction was bewildering. His heart stopped for a beat or two. Did someone sock him in the gut? It felt as though she knew him, had known everything about him, even cared about him, and somehow HE had forgotten her. He was positive he’d never seen her before. How could anyone forget someone like her? She smiled and walked on.

He followed her in a daze. The information booth he’d passed before was a few feet away. With easy grace, the lovely lady knelt next to a large potted plant and picked something up. Stopping at the booth, she said something to the young man that Jeff couldn’t hear. She must have smiled at him, Jeff thought. The kid looked like he was going to pass out with pleasure. Then she walked on. Jeff had to follow.

“Someone turned it in? My beautiful watch? Who …. where ? Just now? Oh My God!” Jeff heard the plump woman’s voice behind him. “Thank GOD. Oh, thank you, God! I can’t believe it!” Her voice broke into sobs.

For some odd reason, Jeff could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Get a grip, Hawkins, he said to himself.

Still…

What was going on here? Two small miracles. Not meant to be noticed? The blond…. the lady, hadn’t even glanced at the plant before she picked up the watch. Or had she? Maybe the gold caught her eye at the right moment. That was probably it. The overhead lights reflected off the watch. Yeah. That’s what happened.

The little boy Jeff had seen earlier was standing in the middle of the aisle, crying his heart out. The moment he saw the blond lady, he ran to her, looking into her face without a word. She stroked his cheek and took his hand.

“I wanted to find something for my big brother for Christmas. He’s been real sick lately. I thought Mommie was right behind me!” The lady led him to a dress shop and pointed into the store. A huge smile transformed his face. She touched his face once more and kissed his forehead. He ran into the store, crying, “Mommie, Mommie!”

His mother broke off her nervous rapid fire talking to a store guard, glancing in the boy’s direction.

“Honey! Oh, Tommy! There he is officer, I’m sorry …. I …. Oh Tommy!” She snatched her son off the floor. “Don’t you ever take off on me like that again!”

“I won’t Mommie, I promise. Mommie, I met a white light lady! She…”

The boy’s voice was lost in the store noise as Jeff continued to trail the lady. She eased into the flow of people. Now it didn’t matter where she was going, Jeff was going to follow her, stalk her even……he didn’t care anymore. He had to know more about her.

Who was she? What was she?

Now they were nearing the old woman with the grocery bags. One of her bags had a rip in it. Jeff could see it wouldn’t be long before it ripped all the way. A kid in a hurry bumped into her, and sure enough, the bag let loose, sending all the groceries skittering across the floor. The crowd separated to avoid stepping on her goods or was it to avoid helping? People these days, Jeff thought. The old woman burst into tears.

The lovely lady reached the old woman and took her hands, speaking soft and low. The wracking sobs stopped the instant the old woman looked into her eyes. Tears continued spilling down her cheeks.

Pulling a plastic bag out of her pocket, the lady began gathering the old woman’s groceries. Jeff was close enough to hear what the woman was saying. He bent to pick up a bag of navy beans and the molasses that had slide farther than the rest.

“John passed away this last November, just before Thanksgiving. He had brain tumors. I spent 47 years with him. But he looked at me like I was a stranger. I can’t get it out of my head, the way he looked at me, as though I was some kind of… hussy… that last time I kissed him. I didn’t know I was kissing him goodbye. He didn’t know that I loved him – when he died.” She started to whimper with the still fresh grief.

The lady stood, lifted the woman’s face with her graceful hand, and gazed into her eyes. “He did, Martha. He knew you. He did know how much you loved him. He clung to life as long as he could because of your shared love. Don’t ever doubt that.”

The old woman searched the young woman’s face for proof and seemed to find it. The pain visibly eased from her old, tired face. “Is he waiting for me?”

“Of course he is. You’ve felt him near. You can feel him even now… can’t you?”

“Why yes. I thought it was my imagination, just my hope that he was close… still.”

“He is close, Martha. He loves you very much, but you still have a life of your own. Many loved ones in your safekeeping. Children and grandchildren… and great-grandchildren to come.” She released the old woman’s face after stroking the tears from her cheek. The young lady leaned down with grace to pick up more of the groceries.

The old woman continued to talk. “My daughter, Janet, lives in Wyoming and doesn’t call or write. I finally got to see her youngest at John’s funeral. I haven’t seen my son, Bill, since the funeral. He hasn’t called for a long time either. Not one word about Christmas. What’s the use? It was their father they adored.”

“No Martha. They love you. More than you know. Be patient. They will show you how much very soon.” She gave the old woman a reassuring nod.

“Christmas is so close. It’s too late. They’ve forgotten me.”

The last of the groceries, the carton of eggs, was lifted off the floor. The old woman began to cry again.

“I don’t have enough money left to buy another dozen eggs. I wanted to bake my special chocolate torte for Christmas. It’s John’s favorite. Was John’s… Oh Lord, I don’t want to be all alone!”

The young woman stood up, looking at Martha, the carton of eggs still in her hand.

“You won’t have to buy any more eggs. These are fine… and you will see your son, very soon. See?” She opened the carton and every egg was perfect.

Martha looked at her again, disbelieving but glowing with new hope.

“Mom?” A middle-aged man walked up to them. “Your neighbor said you were here shopping. Ma…….. in the middle of a snow storm?”

Jeff stared at the woman’s son, then at the lady as she gently took the beans and molasses from his hands and put them into the plastic bag. The serene blue eyes and tender smile thanked him. Jeff had to shake his attention away from her to center back on the tableau before him.

“I have a wonderful surprise, Ma.” The old woman’s son took the bag from the young woman without even looking at her, but nodded his thanks. “I’ve gotten a transfer to Wyoming. Very close to Janet! Sue and I have been spending every extra minute trying to buy a house out there and planning the move. Mom… I’m sorry I haven’t called or anything but it’s been really hectic for us. This is going to be hard on you, I know, but… Well, it’s all arranged. I’ve got the airline tickets and hired the movers…”

Bill must have noticed the blank look on his mother’s face.

“All you have to do is pack a bag, Ma. We can be with Janet in time for Christmas. All of us together. Our new place has a nice little apartment added on and you’ll have all the comforts of your own home. Mom…. I am sorry this was so last minute and I didn’t want to tell you about it before we were sure but everything fell together like a miracle this morning. Mom…… Are you all right?”

The old woman’s eyes filled with tears. Funny, she didn’t look so old anymore.

“Like a miracle,” the old woman’s voice was hushed but dropped another level to add, “Thank you, dear Lord. And thank you, Miss….” She turned to thank the young lady, but she was already gone!

Jeff searched for her in the crowd. He had gotten so caught up in the emotions of the interplay between mother and son that he forgot about the lovely lady. He just caught a flash of her golden hair turning a corner leading to the exit at the other end of the aisle. He raced toward the spot with the sick feeling in his gut that she was gone.

Passing the little boy who had found his mother, Jeff heard the boy say, “I wish you had seen her, Mommie. Was the white light lady my guardian angel?” When he ran past the information booth, the young man was staring toward the exit as though his heart was breaking. Jeff also saw the woman who had lost the watch sitting on one of the rest area benches, still sobbing out of relief and joy.

Jeff stopped running when he reached the corner where he had seen the lady turn. He was right. She was gone.

“Jeff?” A soft female voice spoke to him. He looked to the source and found a beautiful pair of green eyes staring back at him. The eyes belonged to the Salvation Army bell ringer. Strange, he hadn’t noticed her before, but now he could see that she was gorgeous. “A woman said a very nice man named Jeff with dark red hair would be coming along soon. She seemed to be in a big hurry.”

“Ah, yes. I was trying to catch up with her. Were you here a few minutes ago?” Jeff asked, feeling sheepish.

“Yes I was, and thank you again for your contribution…. Jeff.” She blushed.

He searched her face, seeing even more to like.

Glancing at his watch, he saw it was almost noon. Good timing. “Would you like to go to lunch with me – ah…. ”

“Sarah. Sarah Michaels. Yes, I’d like that.” Her eyes glowed with pleasure.

They looked at each other for another moment. Sarah handed him an envelope.

“Oh sorry. That lady left this for you.” She said, “ummmm…” She blushed again. “Are you married Jeff?”

“No, actually, I’m not.”

“The woman said you were someone well worth getting to know. You know, there was something extraordinary about her, almost….well, ethereal, maybe – but that isn’t it either.” She just couldn’t find the right words.

“I know what you mean,” Jeff said, looking out into the snowy parking lot, wondering if the White Light Lady even left tracks in the new snow.

He opened the envelope.

Inside was a Christmas card with a beautiful scene of guardian angels smiling down on the earth.

The note read:
You, alone, are the guardian of you soul.
Sometimes we all need a little help guarding it
and to realize your heart’s desire is within your grasp.
Merry Christmas, Jack Hawkins
And a very joyous life to come!
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to All!

© 2008 Marlaine Marie Floyd