Her Eyes (12 page)

He went back to the online catalogue looking for information walk-ins but found little. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and stretching. An elderly woman with snow white hair sat down beside him and nodded hello. When he nodded back, she said to him, “I noticed you have been looking at transplant information and I saw you type in the search for ‘walk-in.’”

"Yeah. Do you know anything about it?"

"Some. You want to go down to the metaphysical church. They have some books on walk-ins, and the minister there does hypnotherapy. They might be able to help you."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot."

The woman got up and walked toward the door before turning to him. “You go check it out. I'm sure they can answer your questions."

Frank considered what the woman had said and figuring he had nothing more to lose, headed on over to the metaphysical church.

Frank pulled up to the nondescript building acknowledging to himself that under other circumstances, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. Not the building, not what went on there.
Come to think of it, what does go on there?
Well, he was going to find out.

Stepping into what appeared to be the lobby of a book store he paused and looked around a minute and the array of books that talked about communicating with loved ones who had passed on, spirit attachment, tarot cards, runes and all manner of objects from crystal balls to eight-sided mirrors to candles in every color.
What have I walked into?
It also had a strange scent. He saw a single stream of smoke going into the air from a burning stick of incense.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Frank turned to look at forty-something-looking woman with reddish hair, slightly graying at the temples, her gray eyes warm, rather than the cool he would have expected, and her smile made him feel welcome. “Yes, well, maybe. I'm looking for a book or maybe just some information."

"Of course. On what?"

"This is going to sound odd. Probably make me sound unbalanced or even crazy, but I want, well I'm looking for something on what I heard is called a ‘walk-in'."

"Oh yes, we have quite a few on walk-ins. In fact, it seems to be a growing research area."

"Research?” He could not imagine any professional researching something like that.

"Well not so much in the scientific community, but in the metaphysical one. It certainly does explain a lot of things that happen. So, do you think you know a walk-in or that you yourself are one?"

"I think ... well, it occurred to me, maybe ... oh, this is nuts.” He turned to leave.

"It's not nuts, mister. Listen, why not come and sit down and chat for a bit. I'm Maureen, and you are?"

"Frank, Frank White."

"Good to meet you, Frank, and interestingly we have a speaker coming to talk on walk-ins tomorrow night. Harrison Parsons is wonderful about questions and helping people who suspect they are walk-ins figure it out."

"I'm not sure. It's my wife, or my wife's body. She left and I need to find her."

"And you think another day will make that much of a difference in finding her? Do you think she is going to hurt herself?"

"No. Not that. I think she's confused and looking for answers.”
But she did try to kill herself in the hospital. Would she try it again?
The sick feeling filled his gut again. He couldn't think about her hurting herself. It would drive him crazy.

"Well, maybe the lecture tomorrow night will help. Meanwhile I can recommend two or three books here for you to look through, if you're interested."

"Yes, thanks, I'll take them, and I think I will come by tomorrow night. What time? Do I need a reservation?"

Frank headed home, his thoughts swirling. Was Catherine a walk-in? Was it transplant cell memory? Did she just have an epiphany where her life went wrong? Or did she somehow develop multiple personalities? Each option was confusing and overwhelming to consider.

Even though she'd only been home a short time, the house was empty, so empty without her. If he remembered correctly, it was the same kind of empty feeling he had when Pam moved away. Pam. He hadn't thought of her for years and now, after Catherine's suicide attempt, it seemed she entered his mind often.

Frank made himself a sandwich. Win lay by his feet while he picked up the first of the books and sat long into the night reading. A lot of what they said sounded just like what was going on with Catherine. Memory loss, using a different hand, doing different things—things she had never done before. Like a whole other person was there. The books were validating, but he was set on attending the lecture the next evening. With that information, he could go in search of Catherine, and maybe, just maybe, they could figure out what was going on together.

"Please be okay, Catherine,” he whispered in his empty home. “I will find you, and together, we'll make this better."

He arrived for the lecture early the next night and sought a seat in the front of the room. As much as he wanted to disappear into the back wall, he also had questions upon questions and meant to get them answered.

Harrison Parsons spoke for almost two hours, going in depth on just what a walk-in was. The information wasn't all that different than what Mary had said, although he did say a few things Frank observed in Catherine before she left. In addition to a list of traits to look for, he gave some anecdotal stories that were very helpful. He talked about how a child could be born, meet their life commitment, and pass on when the body they occupied failed. But then would find that the soul was up for doing some more work and would wait for a new body. Either through reincarnation or, if there was another soul that just couldn't get it together to complete another soul life mission, they would agree to step in. The other soul would then finish its lessons in another lifetime. Parsons went on to say that there would be confusion at first as the new soul settled into the body. There would be memories of the other lifetime as well as the current body's lifetime. The person wouldn't always be conscious of the event, in fact, often pretty naïve about it. Sometimes, things just wouldn't add for the person, like when memories of growing up felt passed on, as though the events had not really been experienced, only heard about. All of it sounded like what Catherine had been experiencing since waking up from the surgery and the subsequent suicide attempt.

Parsons also mentioned that, occasionally, the original soul would change its mind and not want to go into the light of creation. With another soul in place, two spirits would occupy one body. This state cannot last. There can be only one soul per vessel. Usually the weaker one flees.

It sounded just like Catherine.

When the lecture ended, Frank was one of the first to raise his hand. “Does it have to be someone good to leave? Or can it be someone mean-spirited and a good person moves in? Is it only good people who move in? Or can someone bad move in?"

"Well, Frank, is it?” Parsons read from Frank's nametag. “It will generally be an essentially good soul who will move in. After all, they are taking on the work that the other soul just wasn't up to doing. Someone mean-spirited wouldn't be that giving. However, they can walk into any body. Good or bad."

"And about bad people or people we perceive as bad. Are they really or is it just part of their karma? Part of the lessons of their souls?"

Parsons smiled, and his smile held the gentle quality of a teacher trying to be patient with a particularly difficult student. “We will all be a bit nasty in one life or another, and we all will eventually, we hope, turn out good. Much of who we are as people is malleable, which is why it is particularly difficult when a child's karma is corrupted."

That was interesting to Frank. Maybe this was the lifetime Catherine was supposed to be nasty. Then again, with Catherine's mother, she could've warped any child. Catherine may have greater things in her future that her soul was too burdened to fulfill.

The part about the walk-in leaving hung with him. It sure sounded like someone or something walked into Catherine. “What about possession? Is it another way to say possession?” He hadn't been called on this time and interrupted another person getting ready to ask a question. He felt his cheeks grow hot when he realized and he mouthed a silent “sorry".

Parsons again gave him the patient smile. “No, possession is entirely different. With possession, there's no agreement, and generally, a lower-level spirit will attach to a body. Both souls stay in place. It's just that one dominates the other, generally the lower-level one. It feeds off the negative qualities to give it strength over the original soul. The soul doesn't invite it in and lacks the balance to make it leave."

"Lower level? Like a devil?"

"No, just a soul that hasn't evolved very much and, in all likelihood, may not do so. Some may call these demons or displaced spirits or even animal energies depending on your discipline."

It certainly didn't seem that Catherine was possessed because she was nicer, kinder, gentler. She loved him the way he had always wanted and needed to be love. It really did seem like she was a walk-in. Now the question was, who walked in?

"May I ask one more question?” He waited until Parsons nodded. “Do you ever know who walked in? Like it is a family member or someone you know?"

"Maybe, maybe not. That's not what's important. Knowing who doesn't matter. What
is
important is that the walk-in soul is giving up their chance to move on faster. They are giving the soul that walks out an incredible gift. Identity as we define it is of no importance in the spiritual realm."

"No identity.” For some reason, this saddened him.

"We can't store a hundred lives in our minds, or worry over family members from ages ago. The build-up of sins, pains, lost loves, and wrongdoings would destroy us. The very storage of memories would defeat the purpose of the soul exploring from a new and innocent perspective. It might hinder the very goals the soul must accomplish. Even old souls can't remember what made them what they are. Not unless they exited this world and left its baggage.” Parsons waited, and when Frank didn't say anything, he continued. “I suppose something residual would cling to the person. Maybe even the longing of a soul mate."

Leaving the meeting, Frank felt for the first time like he had a direction. If he was honest about it, it was the first time since high school he had a purpose other than earning money. He headed home, mulling over what he had learned. Tomorrow he would go in search of Catherine, and maybe they could find out just what was going on.

Frank woke with a stiff neck and a book in his hand. He'd fallen asleep still researching walk-ins. He stretched, working the kinks from his neck. In spite of his physical aches, he felt more assured than he had in weeks. He touched the phone, ready to call every hotel in town, even get a private investigator to track Catherine down. As his hand made contact with the plastic, it rang. Hope sprang in his heart and he answered.

"Catherine?"

"No. It's Dan."

"Hi, sorry. Catherine and I had a fight. I was hoping she would call me."

It felt like more than any ordinary fight, though. This was a goodbye. He would be lucky as hell if she ever gave him the opportunity to apologize. He'd be lucky just to see her again. A chill swept over him, and he hoped it wasn't a premonition.

"I've got some news."

"You know what's causing Catherine's strange behavior?"

"Not exactly, but one of my partners did the surgery on the donor. There are some odd things.” He paused and started that awful loud breathing again. “You know that I don't give into anything that can't be scientifically documented, but the eye thing got me. Anyway, I spoke to my colleague about the donor and your wife's eye color changing. I even mentioned the nightmares."

"And?” Frank grew perturbed at the way Dan drew it out. He needed to get out there and find Catherine.

"The donor was a lady named Pam. Legally, I can't divulge her last name. The thing is, she'd been attacked by her husband and technically died in a car accident on the way to get help. They kept her alive on a machine for a while and finally pulled the plug."

"Just like in Catherine's dreams.”
Pam ... no, it couldn't be ... that would be too much of a coincidence.

"Exactly. There's also never been a scientific reason for a person's eyes to change colors that drastically. Some people have eyes that gradually become more blue or more brown. And people with multiple personalities have been known to have different illnesses, but the eye color thing, well, nothing like what you've described."

"Thanks. Dan, listen I have a question for you. Well maybe a few."

"Go ahead."

"Okay, you mentioned multiple personalities. I don't think that's what's wrong with Catherine, although she was right-handed before and I notice now she seems predominantly left. You ever done any research on transplants.” What did the neighbor and this Parsons guy say last night say? “And cell memory. You ever hear of cell memory? Or, now don't be thinking I'm crazy here, all right? Just something the neighbor mentioned that maybe you have seen or heard about."

"I'm listening."

"They said there was some research out there that with transplants sometimes the recipient picks up traits of the donor.

"I've seen some research on that. Could be, but there's really no way of confirming it, not scientifically anyway."

"I see. Well, thanks."

Frank hung up the phone. Mary and Jim had been right. That wasn't his Catherine, at least not the one he wanted back. He was in love with Pam, whoever she was. As crazy as it sounded, that was the only explanation.

Pam, there had to be some way to find out the last name. Dan said he couldn't divulge it, but that didn't mean he couldn't find out about her. Grabbing a cup of coffee, he walked into the den and booted up the computer while he went over what he knew besides the coincidence that the donor Pam had the same name as his friend, his best friend, from long ago.