Connections of the Mind (2 page)

The map from the Internet gave explicit directions. She drove down Interstate 77 and got off on Interstate 70 like her map showed her.
Now comes the tricky part. Turn off the exit and go through Wattsburg. Okay, pay close attention through these winding, hilly roads.

Rebecca turned onto her route and drove down the winding road until she came to Main Street.
Left or right?
She sat at the stop sign and studied her map.
Right turn.
What a unique town. Everything looked familiar like she’d been here a million times. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she spent a lot of time here.
Déjà vu
. She smiled. Morrisville, a small town, spread from one end of the highway to Lake Morris on the other. Everything about it screamed Victorian. No modern buildings, and according to her map, everything stemmed off Main Street. Almost like an island.

“Oh my God, there’s the boot factory.” She turned into the parking lot, found a spot and sat for a minute. This was it. Destination reached. Finally, after all this time, she was a step closer to meeting her connection. Rebecca took a deep breath, hurried to the store before she lost her nerve, and opened the door. A young man about twenty with dark wavy hair and a crooked smile strutted in her direction. ““Hi, I’m Tom Olsen.” He held his hand out to her. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” Her gaze wandered around the large store behind him. Rows and rows of boots, hiking gear, and hunting equipment stretched for what looked like miles.
Definitely have to come back and look for a pair of hiking boots.
She extended her hand. “Rebecca Brennan.”

Tom held hers a little too long for comfort. She pulled her hand away. Darn it, why had she felt compelled to give her name? That wasn’t like her. Not that it mattered much; by tomorrow, everyone in town would know her. “I need directions to the newspaper office.”

He smiled a crooked smile, cocked his head to the side, and looked at her for a minute before he answered. Talk about feeling uncomfortable. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Are you placing an ad?”

Taken aback by his question, Rebecca stuttered for a minute. “I, uh, no. I need some information.” Geez, what business was it of his? The nerve of this guy. She didn’t much like him. And she wished he’d quit looking at her like he wanted to devour her.

“Anything I can help you with?”

This was too much. All she wanted was directions. What was so hard about that? “Just the directions.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Take a left out of the parking lot and turn right at the first traffic light. It’s on the corner of Main and Monroe. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” Rebecca turned to leave.

“Hey,” he called. “How long are you staying in town?”

“Just a couple days,” she said over her shoulder and hurried outside.

“He gives me the willies,” she said aloud in her car. Rebecca covered her mouth, giggled, and shrugged. If anyone saw her, they’d think her crazy, laughing and talking to herself.

A picture of the town gossip, telling everyone the new girl in town talked to herself, popped in her mind. Stifling another laugh, she drove in the direction the creepy guy gave her.

“Okay, he really isn’t creepy looking.” But darn, he looked at her like he could see right through her. Men like that bothered her. Thought they were God’s gift to women or something. Like no one could resist their charms. Not that it mattered. He was far too young for her anyway. Not that some guys cared about age. She shivered again and turned down the street at the stoplight.

The small newspaper office sat on the corner of Main and Monroe Streets. Rebecca parked her car and looked up at the building. Italianate style if she recalled her short study of the Victorian era. She loved everything Victorian. Her dream was to buy a big Queen Anne Vicky and fix it up with all the modern conveniences but still keep the integrity of the era. Sometimes she wondered if she lived another life back in those days. Everything about the era appealed to her. From the fashion to the houses and furnishings. She’d even started buying pieces at antique shops. Not that she could afford much on her salary, but whenever extra money came her way, she socked it away. Her latest purchase was an Eastlake dry sink.

Rebecca approached the door and took a deep breath. This was it, the reason for being here and one step closer to finding out whom her mind was connected to. She hesitated, took another deep breath, let it out, and went inside. The old building smelled like printer’s ink. A window separated the receptionist from the public.

“Excuse me.” Rebecca stepped to the window and cleared her throat. A plump gray-haired woman looked up from an old desk. ‘Kelly Anderson’ the sign on the desk read. Rebecca looked into soft gray eyes.

“How can I help you?” Kelly asked in a pleasant voice.

“I’d like to see the newspaper from October fifth.”

“Through that door and around the corner. I’ll meet you there.” Ms. Anderson directed her and pressed a buzzer releasing the door.

Rebecca met Ms. Anderson and followed her down a long corridor.

“Here are the papers for the last two weeks. If you need anything else, just holler.”

Rebecca sat down and looked through the papers. It didn’t take long to find the one with the right date. The headlines blared at her, “POLICEMAN SHOT DURING ROBBERY ATTEMPT.”

“Officer Jeremy Marlin took a bullet in the shoulder while attempting to apprehend a burglar at Lionel’s Jewelry store early this morning. Marlin stumbled upon a robbery in progress and called for backup. While awaiting the other patrol car, he and his partner, Officer Baker, investigated the open door. Marlin went around to the back. An unknown perpetrator, fleeing the scene, shot him and fled. The perpetrator is still at large.”

Rebecca sat back. Her stomach knotted, goose bumps popped out on her arms. Her mind connection had a name.

Jeremy Marlin. What was he like? And now what? How could she meet him? What would he say when he heard her story? At least now, she knew a little about him. A cop—that explained the danger and flashing lights. Thank God, he wasn’t the criminal. She stood up. May as well get this over with. She stopped at the reception desk. “Excuse me.” Rebecca waited until Ms. Anderson looked up. “Can you tell me how to get to The Hills End Motel?”

“You’re new in town?” Kelly Anderson didn’t wait for a reply. “Hope you enjoy your stay. You’ll find though we’re a small town, most folks are pretty friendly. Are you fixing to stay long? You’ll find a lot of history here. We were founded back in eighteen hundred and fourteen by David Morris.”

“No, I...” Rebecca tried to speak; though interested in the town’s history, there wasn’t enough time to discuss it. But Kelly didn’t give Rebecca a chance to answer.

“Him and his pretty wife came here from New England and purchased eight hundred acres of land. They laid out sixty-seven lots in 1819 which became the town.”

Rebecca smiled and nodded. Apparently, Ms. Anderson didn’t notice her impatience. It was hard to interrupt some people. Hoping not to appear rude, she looked at her watch. “I’m sorry, but I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“Oh, sorry. Up the road to the right. Top of the hill. You can’t miss it.” The phone rang, and Ms. Anderson turned to answer it. “Young people today, always in such a big hurry,” she mumbled. “Good afternoon,
Morrisville Daily
, how may I direct your call?

Rebecca seized the moment and left.

Chapter Three

Morrisville wasn’t difficult to navigate, and Ms. Anderson’s directions were simple enough. Like the map showed her, everything stemmed off Main Street.
May as well check into the motel before looking for the hospital
. Besides, her stomach churned from nerves. After all this time, the town finally became a reality. Meeting Jeremy was something else. Could she do it? Could she really look him up and try to explain this strange phenomenon?

Darn, she sure as heck better after coming all this way. Rebecca found the small motel and parked in front of the office. No wonder they called it The Hills End. The back faced a cliff. Looked like a big rain might wash the whole building over the side. There wasn’t much ground before it went straight down. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen.

She shrugged and walked into the office and stared into the dark eyes of a seventyish, scrawny, little man with thick glasses.

“Ethan Prior here.” The man greeted her. “You looking for a room?”

“Yes, I’d like it for a couple of days. Three at least.” She handed him her credit card.

He slid the registration form across the counter. “I think you’re gonna like it here.” He smiled an almost toothless smile and immediately began a narration about Morrisville’s history.

While she filled in her name and address, Rebecca learned the Morrises had five children. Two more died in infancy, one on the trip to Morrisville. Of the five remaining, two had settled in Morrisville.

“Jebediah Cole built the first flourmill in eighteen and seventeen,” Mr. Prior’s voice filled with pride. “It later became the Cole’s Mill. Then around eighteen and twenty-one, Robert James opened a tavern.”

Rebecca slid the form back to him, waited for her key, nodding politely, eager for an opportunity to interrupt. She tapped her foot, looked at her watch, and sighed.
Lord, spare me from being rude
, but so far, people seemed to think she had nothing better to do than listen to history about their town. Any other time, maybe. She loved historic towns. Loved hearing the history about them. Like Hudson or Medina, Ohio. So much history. Heck, even Cleveland and Parma had their history.

If her nerves weren’t on edge, it would have been comical. Anxious to meet Jeremy, she finally interrupted. “I’m sorry, Mr. Prior, but I need to settle in and find the hospital. Can you direct me?”

“Oh, my, yes, yes,” he mumbled. “I do go on so. I forget myself at times.” He handed Rebecca the key and directed her to her room. “The hospital is just up the road a piece. Go out the drive, turn right, go past the traffic light, and at the next intersection, Carol Street, turn right, and it’s just up the hill.”

Surprised at how easy she had discovered Jeremy, Rebecca went to her room, unlocked the door, set her bag on the luggage rack, and looked around. Dated, but it did have a small coffee maker, blow dryer, iron, and ironing board. Worn, avocado green shag carpet covered the floor. The drapes, straight from another era, had lime green, yellow, and orange flowers and foliage with matching bedspread. Striped brown, orange, and yellow upholstery covered the two chairs next to the round table in front of the window. The pine dresser and desk showed definite signs of wear from worn finish and glass rings on the top to dings and dents on the fronts. The brochure on the desk boasted of cable TV and free Internet. That was a surprise. At least it looked clean.

She checked out the bathroom. Brown and white mosaic floor tile, brown metallic wallpaper, white wall tile with brown flecks in the shower area and behind the sink, and only a single light fixture over the ugly marble laminate sink. No tub, but that was fine with her. Baths, especially in hotels, weren’t something she cared for. Rebecca settled in her room, plugged in her dying cellphone, and sat on the bed to call and reassure her brother and Allison everything was fine.

“Lester,” Rebecca said when his voice mail picked up. “Just checking in. I’m staying at the Land’s End Motel. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Not that it mattered where she was staying, if Lester wanted to call her, he’d call her cellphone. She hung up and punched in Allison’s number.

“So, tell me about it. What’s he like? Cute? Handsome? How old? Tell me everything.”

Typical Allison, forever with the questions. “I haven’t met him yet.” Rebecca sat on the bed and laughed. “But if all the people are as talkative and friendly as the ones I’ve met so far, well it might take a while to find him. And I’m not sure how to explain the connection to him. I mean I’m worried how he’ll take it.”

“Yeah,” Allison said. “Most people don’t believe or can’t handle the paranormal. Look how leery you were when I suggested it. But, I think he’ll understand, Beck, maybe he’s experienced it, too.”

Rebecca fidgeted with the phone cord while they talked. Easy for Allison to say, she wasn’t the one who had to explain it.

“Besides, what’s the worst that can happen? He’ll think you’re nuts, ignore you, or tell you to get lost, and you’ll be on your way home. Right?”

Rebecca laughed at her friend’s logic, but she had a point. “I’ll call you later or tomorrow after I meet him. Promise.”

Her stomach growled, but the way it flip-flopped, eating before she met Jeremy wasn’t an option.

May as well get it over with. Rebecca grabbed the phone off the charger and hurried to her car. Just like Mr. Prior said, the street leading to the hospital was up a long hill. She parked, got out, and breathed in the fresh autumn air. The hospital sat nestled among the pine trees on the hill, high above the town. A gazebo sat in front of the woods. Nice.

Normally, she would have checked it out. For some reason gazebos fascinated her. Something romantic about them. No time to check it out now; meeting Jeremy took top priority.

Her stomach clenched as she hurried through the entrance and stopped at the information desk. “Excuse me. I’m looking for a patient, Jeremy Marlin.”