Of That Day and Hour: A psychological thriller (9 page)

“How?”

“I asked could we visit
again, if we required any further information.”

“What did she say?”

“That she wouldn’t be here.
She was going to visit relatives.”

 
“Nothing unusual in that.” Jeff’s manner is
blasé, until he hears:

“But t
hey’re
all dead. She said there was only her and Casey left.” They both digest this in
silence, until Eve adds “Guess what.”

“What?”

“You’re the one who has to
tell him.”

The flight home
is somber, and Aimee’s death weighs heavily upon their thoughts. Eve’s
optimistically open-minded regarding the afterlife, a view reinforced by recent
events and Aimee’s parting words. Jeff’s the sceptic of the two. He believes
it’s the needs of the psychologically deviant individual, with schizotypal
tendencies, that brings about a belief in the paranormal. Jeff even aligns
superstition alongside obsessive compulsive disorders. Yet for all his
scientific knowledge and personal beliefs, he’s confronted with a problem: a
man who displays paranormal powers outside the realm of human capabilities. Now
he has to face Casey with the tragic news of his mother’s death.

“Do you know what you’re
going to say to him?” Eve knows he’s apprehensive.

“I haven’t a clue.” Jeff’s
not trained for bereavement counseling, nor is he trained to deal with
murderers. “While we’re on the subject, who allocated me as the person to break
the news to him?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s no one
else.” Eve’s doesn't want to personally inform Casey; she's too afraid of him.

“He might take it better
from his psychiatrist?” Jeff tests Eve’s reaction; he wouldn’t actually make
her confront such an awful situation.

“Nice try, but he wants to
interact with you.” Eve smiles and plays on Jeff’s male ego. “I thought a man
of your intellect wouldn’t be intimidated.”

“You wouldn’t be using
reverse psychology on me, would you, darling?”

“It’s worth a shot.” Eve
speaks through an ever-expanding grin.

“I’m not that gullible.”

“It’s worked before.”

“Stop confusing the issue.”
Jeff addresses Eve’s psychological manipulation. “And I would be a fool not to
feel intimidated by a convicted killer.”

“He’s also a human being.”

“Are you sure?”

The flight is surprisingly
uneventful. Eve continues to look to Jeff for reassurance at the slightest
noise, and in return Jeff plays the role of nursemaid. As scheduled, the plane
makes touchdown safely back on Pueblo soil. Outside in the car park their
chariot silently waits. Eve throws the keys to Jeff.

“Catch.”

“What’s this?”

“You take the wheel.”

“You sure?” His eyebrows
raise in surprise; this car is Eve’s pride and joy.

“Yeah but be quick, a
woman’s prerogative is to change her mind.”

“I know.”

Jeff doesn’t need asking
twice. At the first turn of the key the engine purrs into life. He presses down
on the accelerator, and the accompanying thunder is a sound you really can’t
argue with.

“You can feel the power.” He
can’t help but smile.

“Of course. What are you
waiting for?”

Jeff doesn’t need any more
encouragement. The roar of the engine becomes louder. Grinning, he rumbles out
onto the highway. Driving through the desert plains, he’s never felt this alive
or this free. With such a beautiful woman by his side, his years of being stuck
behind a lectern are, as far as he’s concerned, over.

Later in the day they sit
outside on the porch, looking out across the plateau. The distant mountains
ripple in the heat. Together they ponder, as millions have before, life’s
greatest mysteries.

“We haven’t existed since
the beginning of time.” Jeff chooses his words carefully to construct a valid
opinion. “And as individuals, it’s only once we are born, that we become aware
of our own existence.”

“Of course.” Eve’s not sure
where he’s going with this.

“We understand that things
and people disappear. Who and what has been in the past no longer exists today.
In our heart we tell ourselves that can’t be right, because to accept it means
accepting that in a relatively short time, we also will not exist.”

“You’ve got a secret stash
of pot, haven’t you?” She has to lighten Jeff up somehow.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because people talk like
this when they're high.” She gives up. “Oh it doesn’t matter, go on. I’m
listening, honey.”

“What I’m trying to impart
is that we exist in the moment, and then that moment exists only in the past.
Each passing night leaves us as individuals a day shorter, and a day poorer.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“No, stay with me. On a
positive note, if it wasn’t for this pressure, humanity would be denied many
great works of art, poetry and literature. Knowing we will die drives us
forward. Our greatest wisdom is to simply enjoy the moment.” His voice softens.
“As individuals life appears to be a process, and one that through decay
becomes a process of disillusionment. Religion gives hope to the soul, and for
many the promise of everlasting life.”

“Yeah, well, it would be
nice, wouldn’t it?”

“My point exactly. It would
be nice for us all to believe, to know we continue in one form or another. This
is the promise psychics or religious leaders give us. But even if we did, how
can someone know what happens in that future? To prophesize requires the future
to have already existed.”

“The future can’t already
exist. That’s like saying I have no control over my own destiny.”

“Precisely.” Now he’s got
her attention. “For a prediction of the future to be accurate it must have
already happened. For it to be predetermined means that you have no control
from birth. I use the analogy of the train track.” Jeff pauses for a response.

“The train track?”

“Yes, the train track. Birth
starts at station A and death is at station B. The window is our view, our
moment in life. The track exists behind and the track exists out front, but we
do not see or experience this. To create an accurate prediction, the psychic
must possess the ability to look further down the track to report back to the
present on an event that’s already prearranged.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Yes, but that’s what a
premonition, if real, has to be.” To hit home he brings it into the present.
“That’s what Casey is asking us to believe.”

“And appears to be what
we’re dealing with.”

Over the ridge a rippling
orange cloud of dust rises in the desert heat. As it draws closer it becomes
obvious this plume has a distinctive heartbeat, and from out of the wasteland a
biker approaches. Jeff can see by the sheer size of this leather-clad rider
that it can only mean one thing: Al’s here. Jeff’s heart sinks and he looks to
Eve for any signs of excitement. She smiles to Jeff; Eve’s no fool, and knows
just how to put her man at ease.

“Don’t worry honey, he’s
just a friend.”

“I’m cool.”

Al pulls up alongside Eve’s
car. He blips the throttle for effect, loving the sound of his bike, he expects
Eve will too. Then he spots Jeff out on the porch and kills the engine.
Dismounting, he dusts himself down whilst Eve walks to the front rail. Jeff
eyes the curves of her sexy ass in tight blue jeans; she sure looks hot, he
thinks. Leaning over the timber, she calls out to Al, who’s thinking the same.

“What brings you out here?”

“Just passing through.”

“Fancy a beer?”

“Wouldn’t say no.”

“Come on up.”

Eve walks inside to fetch a
cool beer from the fridge. With each step Al takes the porch vibrates. He stops
at the top of the stairs, expands his physique and looks into the house to see
if he can see Eve. Then he glances over to Jeff.

“Hi.” The last thing he
wants to see is Jeff.

“Hi, what brings you out
here, Al?” Jeff knows exactly what brings Al out here; he’s interested in what
he’s got to say.

“On a run, thought I’d check
on Eve while I’m passing.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“I thought so.”

There’s a pause between both
men. Each not knowing what to say to the other, the silence of a predator
circling, Jeff sensing Al’s true intent. Al’s face lights up only when Eve
walks out and hands him a beer.

“Sit yourself down.”

“Cheers.”

“What are you doing out
here?” Eve already knows Al’s true intentions, and part of her is flattered.

“Just fitted new pistons and
barrels. I’m running her in, and thought I’d check on you whilst I was
passing.”

“Thanks Al, it’s
appreciated.”

“Glad to hear it.” Al still
believes he’s in with a chance, if it wasn’t for Jeff being here.

“How’s the diner?”

“Same as always.”

“And Angel?”

“All over the boys.”

“I was the same.” Eve’s
smile reflects past memories.

“And now?”

“I have Jeff.”

“You both an item?” He
didn’t realize this.

“Yeah.” Eve can see Al
trying to smother his envy.

“And you Al? Is there anyone
on the horizon?” Jeff keeps his voice disinterested, a polite query, nothing
more.

“Not at the moment, Jeff.”

Jeff listens whilst Al chats
to Eve. They rarely look his way, giving him the opportunity to study Al’s
non-verbal cues. Any attentive observer can peer into our truest feelings and
emotions via the visual clues we emit. Thankfully Eve shows no signs of sexual
interest, unlike Al, cunning as the fox.

With relief Jeff hears Al
say that it’s time to go. Eve walks down to the bike with him. Jeff looks on,
sensing a message passing between the two. Her body language reassures him,
although he can't hear what they are saying.

“You got back together with
him?” Al looks at her fiercely.

“Yeah, it’s good.” Eve’s
stance shifts, and she folds her arms; she doesn’t want to hear what’s coming.

“Sure you can trust him?
He’s still married, isn’t he?”

“Separated.” She knows Al’s
game. As a psychiatrist, she can read him like a book.

“Just watching your back.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay sister. You know where
I am.”

He stands on the kick-start,
feeling rejected; lets his weight drop. It takes a few attempts before the
heartbeat fires. Eve can feel the earth shake beneath her feet as the dust
rises. Al winks before riding away; Eve’s flattered, but with Jeff on the
scene, Al’s lost his charm. The sound of the Harley fades into the distance.
Eve walks back up the steps. She knows how Jeff feels, and vows to herself that
she’s not going to lose him again; not this time.

“You okay, honey?”

“Yeah.” He feels like saying
'I am now he's gone', but doesn’t.

“Don’t worry about Al, his
bark's worse than his bite.”

“I’m not worried.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. If he does fancy
you, that’s only because he’s got good taste.”

“You have a way with words,
Dr. Davies.”

“I believe I do.”

 
Jeff doesn’t like his juvenile feelings of
jealousy. Al’s the least of his problems; there’s a bigger one to face in the
morning.

How do you walk into a room,
and break the news that will crush a hardened criminal? Someone with nothing
left to lose but his own beloved mother. Look him in the eye, tell him all
hope’s gone. That he’s not permitted to attend her funeral, nor hold any of her
possessions, and that all he’s left with, for the remainder of his life, is a
jailer’s prejudice.

“I don’t know if I can go
through with this.”

“Look at me.” Eve can see
the dread in his eyes. “You’re the only one who can tell him. Do you remember
his crime?”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you think for one moment
the guards won’t use this against him? They’ll torment and destroy him.
Incarceration is already a psychological torture.”

“I understand what you’re
saying.” Underneath he’s angry to be put in this position. “I didn’t think this
was part of the job description.”

“It isn’t. It’s called
humanity. Man up and give him some dignity, and he’ll respect you for it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am.”

“Okay.” Jeff protests with a
sigh. “Let’s do this.”

Eve gives him a kiss on the
lips, and brushes her fingertips across his cheek.

“You’ll be okay.” She burns
her eyes into his. “I have every faith in you.”

The adrenalin that
circulates through his body is worse now than at his first meeting with Casey.
His legs are weak, he’s breathless, his heart beating rapidly. The click of the
door mechanism sounds like a bullet entering the breech. Then, to his horror,
the steel door, like a stage curtain, is pulled open, and he can see the whites
of Casey’s eyes staring out to him.

“Don’t look so scared, Jeff.
Sit and let’s see if we can put your mind at rest.”