The Constable: A Pandemic Crime Story
The Constable
A Pandemic Crime Story
Kaveh L. Afrasiabi
1.
On New Year's Day 2021 Jeff's preference was to sleep all day, instead he found himself on the road around 9 AM in a blizzard condition. Half way to Acton, Mike called to make sure he was on his way -- to serve some divorce papers -- but also to let him know he needed to stop by a cafe right off the highway in order to pick up some court documents that needed to go with the summons. "Sorry. This lady just called, she's a bit frantic you know, and will meet you there, just make sure you don't spill the beans that you're not a licensed constable." Mike had to take his kid to the doctor and relied on his brother-in-law for that great favor. Jeff didn't mind since the pay, 400 dollars, was decent and he could be back home before noon, had no clue that it would be thirteen months later.
The lady, a late thirty, early forty brunette with lovely green eyes beaming at him above her black mask, was already there waiting for him at a quiet corner of Acton Cafe. Immediately, however, Jeff noticed her disheveled appearance, her nervous fingers and bodily gestures conveying a woman in distress. He got himself a cup of coffee and then sat at her table for a quick chat. Irina handed him the papers stapled together and once again apologized for forgetting to give them to Mike. "No problem," Jeff said and was about to get up and leave, given Irina's insistence that he should serve the papers before her husband got out of town that day, when Irina hit him with a bigger, rather more unusual, request. "Can you kill him for me? The bastard is going on vacation with his mistress today instead of paying child support or getting the new hockey equipment he promised his son."
Jeff was sympathetic but of course didn't take her seriously until she withdrew a large manila envelope from her big purse and asked him to look at the content -- photo of a couple holding hands along with a thick pile of large bills.
"Look lady I'm no hitman, not sure what you're asking me?" She withdrew to herself and looked away for a moment and then turned her face toward him and said, "There's five thousand there and I'll give you another five after." For a fleeting moment Jeff indulged in the fantasy, partly because he hadn't fully recovered from the migraine headache attributable to an all night of partying.
"I don't have the slightest clue how to do it even if I ever wanted to or contemplated such a crazy idea."
She already had a prepared answer for him. "There's nothing to it. You just sneak in at night and leave the stove on. I'll take care of the rest."
"I;m sorry. I 've got to go. I strongly suggest you stop thinking along those lines -- not good for you, believe me."
Jeff then stood and left the cafe, was about to cross the road when Irina's voice stopped him. She wanted him to have the money on him "to help you decide better and give me your answer in a couple of hours. You can return the money if you decide not to. I trust you don't worry." Reluctantly Jeff took the envelope and resumed walking, trying not to slip, but then half way to the car he admonished his foolishness and turned around to return the money to Irinia when he saw her pulling out of the parking lot in her snow-covered Volvo. Their eyes clicked for a second and he felt a flash of familiarity about her for the first time, now trying to figure out if they had ever met before and if so when and where, and that was when he heard the loud shriek of a car's brake on the icy road behind him -- it hit him and threw his body violently several feet in the air before hitting the sidewalk, unconscious.
2.
"Jeff can you hear me?" The voice repeated itself and vaguely registered with him. Slowly his eye lids moved and the blurry images, of doctors and nurses surrounding him, emerged, a veritable sign that his long coma was over, although the tedious agony of regaining his lost memory had just begun. Sally, his sister married to Mike, came to visit the next day and was heartbroken when Jeff mistook her for a nurse; she left crying. His doctor consoled her, "it's normal after a head injury like that. It will take time you need to be patient." The accident had also broken his jaw bone, making it difficult to talk or eat, and a big scar on the left side of his face simply meant that a plastic surgery, fully covered by insurance of the snow plower that had hit him, was not far away. But first he had to go through intensive physical therapy to re-learn how to walk or feed himself; his condition caused his hands to shake and for sometime he found it difficult to hold a teacup, a fork, and especially a pen. But slowly, the trembling lessened and became more manageable as his nervous system improved. Simultaneously, he had to work on his lost memory with the help of a superb therapist, Dr. Evans, who began the first session by asking him if he recalled any dreams during his coma?
Initially Jeff said no but then by the third session could recall the fragments of a recurrent dream about a woman with green eyes who was his piano student at a plush mansion. "Is that all?"
"No doctor. I remember her shooting me in the head with a small hand gun and then crying while I was bleeding to death with my head in her lap."
"Strange dream. Must be connected to your trauma I am sure. By the way do you play piano?"
"I don't think so." In fact he had never once played piano. Thankfully Dr. Evans's (common sense) method of probing his past, with the help of a photo album began to pay off and within a month Jeff was able to revive some memories of his childhood and growing up with his only sibling, much to the delight of Sally who visited him regularly. She kept it to herself that their parents had both been lost to the pandemic. The notion that there was a different life in recent past, with people not walking around with masks on and keeping a safe distance from each other, was especially difficult to teach Jeff, who for quite some time simply assumed that it had always been like that. Approximately two and a half months later Jeff was released from the hospital and moved into his sister's home temporarily until he could take care of himself. It did not take long before Jeff realized that Sally and Mike were having marital problems and he had to put up with their occasional late night flare ups when Mike came home late, often drunk. One day they got a call from Acton police to go and pick up his belonging from the time of accident. Nick, a social worker assigned to Jeff kindly volunteered to drive him there. Assisted by his metallic cane, Jeff ascended the stairs to the station and had to sign a release paper for his stuff, consisting of a broken mobile phone, his wallet, a key chain, a pen, and a large envelope containing a large sum of money and a couple's photo. "You always carry so much money on you?" The desk officer asked and, naturally, Jeff had no idea where the money came from and, moreover, who the couple in the picture were, innocently assuming some family or friends. At home, Sally however corrected him as she too didn't know and advised Jeff not to say anything to Mike about the money. "Why," Jeff asked and was told Mike would probably take most of it away from him. "I'm your older sister, you need to listen to me, okay?" The next morning, she drove him to the surgeon's office to review the details of his upcoming reconstructive surgery. His jaw was bothering him and Jeff wanted to do it as soon as possible, but had to wait another three months until his physical condition improved. He used a big scarf to cover his deformed face, scaring a cashier at 7/11 once when it fell below his chin. Finally the time arrived and his doctors were pleased with the result, although he had a couple of episodes of post-surgery infections and had to lay low for a month or so. "Look at you. You 're a brand new person, the scar is completely gone," Sally hugged him after they removed the bandages for the first time. He insisted to go back to Acton to the place of accident, for a reason mysterious to him, and Sally obliged him on a lovely summer day.
"This is it. Do you remember anything?" Sally asked as soon as she parked in front of Acton Cafe adorned with a new white canopy. He didn't and went inside while Sally waited in the car. Jeff asked for the manager and introduced himself as the one who had a terrible accident right outside a year ago and was happy that the guy knew all about it. He wanted to know who was working there at the time and the manager pointed at the girl behind the cash register; he had no problem with Jeff asking her a couple of questions. Fortunately, the girl had vivid memories of that day and told Jeff that she had ran outside when she heard the accident and also remembered the lady that had been with him at the cafe. Jeff was perplexed. "Did you say I was with a woman?" The girl was quite sure that he had come in alone and met and sat with a lady for a few minutes before exiting together minutes before the accident. "Have you seen her again?" He asked and she said no. Jeff thanked her and returned to the car. Sally wanted to know if any memory had come back to him and he nodded negatively, but then asked, "Sally why did I come here that day?" She said that was a question to ask Mike. But when they arrived home Mike was not there and Jeff could hear Sally's shouting match on the telephone as he rested on his bed. Several hours later, he woke up by the sound of a heated argument from the kitchen. He got up, opened the door a jar and listened. Sally was accusing Mike of having an affair and he was denying it while bragging about putting up with his Frankenstein brother-in law. "You're so mean," Sally slammed the bedroom door, waking up the baby crying. At that very moment Jeff decided that the time to move out has come. For some reason, he moved to Acton.
3.
By all account, it was a wise move on his part. Nick helped him find a reasonable rental in a rustic part of Acton and Jeff could now concentrate on a couple of key questions that were increasingly bothersome to him. Who was the woman who accompanied him on the day of accident? He had asked Mike and was told that he had gone to Acton to serve some papers, but no mention of any woman, laughing it off. "Well buddy you were always a hustler, maybe when you went to get your coffee you stumbled into a cute lady." Mike had also informed him that he had ended up serving those papers himself a couple of days after the accident. For the first time, Jeff reluctantly ventured to show the couple's photo to Mike and asked him if the man in the picture was the one he had served the papers and Mike after one good look at the photo shook his head negatively and said, "Definitely not. That guy was much older than this one. Where did you get this photo, who gave it to you?" Jeff simply said that he had found it with his stuff at Acton police -- that could have mixed it up with his stuff; that was a little lie that he himself diden't believe, not knowing why he uttered it. Inevitably, soon after settling in his new place, Jeff found himself at the police station inquiring about the identity of the couple in the picture. The desk officer did not know, but then again he was new and referred him to another officer, a blonde female in her mid-thirties, who immediately recognized the male but not the female. "Oh sure. This is Mr. Edward, who died in a gas explosion at his home last year." Jeff was elated that finally half the mystery had been solved and asked the officer if she was sure? Officer Lauren O'Conner was quite sure. "Sure. I'm actually in charge of the active investigation on this matter. How did you come to have this photo, can I have it?" A fleeting hesitation and then Jeff took a picture of it with his cell phone before he turned it over to the officer, telling her that he had a bad accident and has lost some of his memory. Only then did Officer O'Conner recognize him and wondered how he was. "Wow. But of course. You look good though. I remember there was a picture of you in the paper, must consider yourself pretty lucky. Not many people survive a hit by a snow plower you know." On his way out, Jeff paused to ask one more question: What's an active investigation? He was told it was normal procedure to make sure there was no 'foul play'. "Then you should find out who that lady is, no?" He said meaningfully and Officer O'Conner concurred ny nodding her head after a moment's hesitation. "I will let you know if we find out anything? Where are you staying?" Jeff gave her his address and then went back to his car and was on his way home when the sign of a restaurant caught his eyes and he pulled in. A few minutes later, as he was holding the big menu closer to his face to be able to read the small write-ups, he heard the waitress's voice asking if he knew what he wanted, raised his head and instantly felt something familiar about the waitress, who was none other than Irina. Neither of them recognized each other, thanks to his new look, and their masks.
4.
Jeff's encounter with Irina was completely uneventful. They had a small conversation, she asked him if he was passing through and he replied that he had just moved in, skipping the unpleasant details of his accident. Due to the new restrictions, he could only stay for half an hour and rushed his meal and then left leaving a handsome tip. "Come back again," Irina said after giving him the change. "I will, definitely," Jeff said, got up and then exited the place and was walking toward his car when he noticed officer O'Conner in her cruiser at a corner of the parking lot keeping him under watch; he approached her and said, "hello again," officer O'Conner smiled. "I see you met Mrs. Edward." Jeff was startled and uttered, "Mrs. Edward?! You mean?" The officer nodded. "That's right. The waitress who served you, she didn't tell you?" Jeff shook his head negatively. Suddenly it dawned on him that O'Conner was perhaps considering Mrs. O'Conner as a suspect in her husband's death -- quickly corrected himself by realizing he had confused the last names. "Tell me officer. Is she a suspect?" He was told that it was against police procedure to comment on an active investigation, although it was patently obvious why she was there in the first place. "Hey. I found out who the girl in the picture is. Her name is Molly and lives next door in Boxborough. I'm going there now, you want to come along?" This surprised Jeff and wanted to sit in the front but was told to sit in the back instead. "How far is it?" He asked and she said "not far at all, ten minutes." It was starting to rain and O'Conner turned on the wipes. A few minutes later, they were at Molly's home and O'Conner asked Jeff to wait in the car; she came back a good half an hour later, sat behind the wheel and said she was sorry for taking so long. "Was she there?" He asked and O'Conner nodded her head and then turned on the car. "Yes she was there alright." But the next morning, she called Jeff early in the morning to break the sad news that Molly's body had been found in the nearby lake. "Wow. I am shocked." "So am I." Could it be that Mrs. Edward had killed her, he entertained the possibility loudly and would learn later on from the police that Mrs. Edward was not considered a suspect since she had a good alibi, her mother who stayed with them occasionally. Vastly intrigued by the avalanche of latest revelations, Jeff found himself back at Irina's restaurant for dinner, hoping to see her again but she was not there. He went home a little drunk after consuming a couple of glasses of red wine and fell sleep quickly, only to be hit by that recurrent nightmare again, this time with no ambiguity that the woman in his dream was none other than Mrs. Edward, Irina.
5.
The news of Molly's death was on the front page of the local newspaper. Jeff somehow felt guilty and wished he hadn't shown that photo to the police, had a hunch that Molly had been killed because she had vital information. He had learned from another waitress that Irina's son played hockey and soon found himself in a crowded small arena filled with parents and kids, oblivious to social distancing. Before long, he located Irina sitting on a bench rooting for her son on the ice rink and went straight to her and said hello. Irina was pleasantly surprised and naturally inquired why he was there and he smiled and said "your friend at the restaurant said you'd be here tonight." Irina gave him a meaningful look and then asked him if wished to sit next to her. It was the beginning of their relationship. Half way through the game, however, Irina suddenly realized who he was after he nonchalantly made a comment about his car accident. But she kept it to herself and started asking probing questions such as when and where and how bad was the accident. Jeff then told her about his memory. "I still can't remember a thing about how it happened." But then he remembered what the gitl at Acton Cafe had told him and saw no reason to hold back, asked, "can I ask you a question: Have we met before?" No Irene said emphatically, then corrected herself by asking "you mean before yesterday, right? No I'm sure we haven't." But he was not convinced, and for a strange reason, Irina had a vague notion that they had met before that time at the cafe. After the game, when she collected her son from the locker, she asked Jeff if he would like to go to her place for dinner. He instantly agreed. He was now excited by the discovery that they had a chemistry together and he was attracted to her. Obviously the feeling was mutual. He ended up staying at her place all night, making love for the first time in a very long time. When he woke up a few hours later, he heard her voice from downstairs, skulked outside the room and listened to the whispering conversation between Irina and someone on the phone. "How could you be so stupid? Why did you do it?" And then after a long silence, Jeff heard her say "okay I'll meet you at the same place, make sure you're not followed. Yes, I will too. Bye." Jeff rushed back to bed and pretended to be sleep when Irina slipped in.
6.
Jeff followed Irene's car cautiously with the lights off, the very next night, fully anticipating Irina's meeting with the hired killer who was responsible for the death of both her husband and his lover, Molly. After going through a windy and dark road, she ended up at a lakeside cabin, parked and hurried inside. Jeff was close to calling O'Conner at the police station but didn't, pondering what to do next for a few minutes. His mind raced back to a few days ago when he went to a hotel down the road and tried his hands on their piano, thrilled to know he had not lost one iota of his superb skill, but then again what if this was all related to his coma and he had never played piano before? His feeble mind reminded him that he had dreams about being a piano instructor to a girl who had shot him in the head, but why? He then called O'Conner and left a message on her recorder. After a few minutes of idle thought, he decided to go to the cabin and let the chips fall where they may.
As expected, Irina was shocked and did not expect to see him enter through the door. "What are you doing here? You should leave immediately, it's not safe for you." Jeff wanted to but first had to clarify an important matter. "Tell me Irina do you have dreams of being in a castle of sorts from a couple of centuries ago?" Irina waited before answering. "As a matter of fact I do. Why?" Jeff then pressed with the next question. "Oaky, give me the description of the place. For example were there two lions statues at the entrance, and marble floors and a huge piano under a big chandelier?" Irina pressed her memory and then confirmed by nodding her head meaningfully. "Yes I think so. Don't tell me you've had the exact same dream?" It all depended on whether or not she also remembered shooting him in the head in her dream, and she did after a long pause, for the first time realizing that Jeff was an old lover from earlier centuries. "Are you telling me we are reincarnated? Isn't that pretty absurd?" Jeff was however fully resigned to that conclusion. "I now know we have met before and more than once you've shot me and killed me, don't know why? And not only that I just remembered you were also in a similar dream but centuries earlier, could it be that we?" Suddenly a voice came from behind and interrupted him, Jeff turned around and was shocked to see it was none other than Mike.
"You?!" He belatedly noticed the menacing gun in Mike's hand. "That's right Jeff. It's me. Sorry it has to be you. I liked you kid but why couldn't you just stay in Boston and forget about Acton?" Mike was about to pull the trigger, thinking the more efficient the better and that there was no other way. "You're responsible for Molly's death too, did you know? We had nice time together until you brought the cops to her door and she got scared."
"I see and you had to kill her."
Mike grinned. "Yeah. There was no other way. I always told your sister you're a pathetic tragedy."
"No Mike you can't. Leave him alone," Irina pleaded in vain. Mike ordered Jeff to step outside and they were on the lawn when Irina's voice froze them in their position. "Let him go Mike." But Mike was adamant, "sorry honey, can't risk it" but before he was finished with his sentence a bullet was frired, from the gun in Irina's hand, shattering Mike's back, he fell down immediately. At that very moment, Officer O'Conner emerged from behind a tree and ordered Irina to drop her gun and when Irina refused and turned it toward her, O"Conner shot her. Jeff ran to her, now gasping for her last breath. "I am so sorry," he said, tears filling his eyes. She hushed him to silence and said, "believe" and then passed away. An hour or so later, when O'Conner escorted him toward his car, asked a pointed question. "I wonder what she meant by believe?"
"Reincarnation," Jeff whispered in his head, looking out at the darkness, now realizing all that had happened had been foreordained from multiple pasts. Tired and sad, and yet by the time he was dropped off at home, Jeff had re-imagined everything.
New Year's Day, 2020. The phone rang like an eternity. Damn it. Half sleep and with a massive migraine headache after a long night of partying, Jeff finally answered – so many times later would wish he hadn't and simply ignored it. How would destiny play its game then? It was Mike, his brother-in-law, asking him a big favor, to serve some divorce papers to someone in Canton.
“Gee Mike. It's seven in the morning. You want ME to do it? Today?!”
“Sorry Jeff. Sally's come down with a very bad cold, we gotta run to the doctor. Sally's car is at the shop and she can't drive stick shift. This has to be delivered today before noon, don't ask me why.” And before he could put up more resistance, threw in the bait. “It'll take you two hour max and I'll give you five hundred.”
“Did you say 500? Just to serve some papers? What's the catch?”
“Oh nothing. Except that this lady adamantly wants it served no later than noon today. Apparently her ex is leaving town soon and she wants it done asap.” He paused and then preempted the next objection of “but I'm not a constable is it legit?” by assuring him that he could simply leave it at the door and no signature was needed. “Don't worry I'll take care of the rest myself. Piece of cake nothing to it. So what do you say?”
“Fine. What the hell. I'll do it.”
“Great. On our way to the pediatric I'll drop them off in your mailbox, with the money, let's say 8:30 or so, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Really appreciate it Jeff. But please make sure you get there well before noon. It's only an hour away, okay?”
“Got it.”
II
Half way down, Jeff received another call from Mike, who wanted to make sure he had picked up the envelope and was indeed on his way, but with one more instruction.
“Sorry Jeff. This lady just called and apparently she forgot to give me another court document that needs to go with the summons.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And she's n't happy that I'm not delivering it myself. So I told her you're my assistant and it's the same thing. You need to stop by this cafe called Acton Cafe right off the highway and pick up the stuff from her, okay? Her name is Irina and she'd be waiting in her car, a gray Volvo.”
“Irina, gray Volvo. Got it.”
“Just one thing. She sounds like a nervous wreck so make it quick and minimize the niceties, the less said the better, alright buddy?”
“Will do.”
But there was no sign of any exit for Canton and the moment he saw the sign for Acton, Jeff realized his dreadful error – of map questing Acton instead of Canton in his early morning haste. “Damn, he's gonna kill me,” Jeff scolded himself as he drove off the highway, with the smell of alcohol still permeating his clothes, checked the time: 9.40. He quickly typed the right address in his cell's GPS and was somewhat relieved that it was only 25 miles away, sufficient time to make it on time. Yearning for his morning coffee, he stopped by a small coffee shop, thinking was worth a few minutes of his time. What he didn't expect was Irina waiting for him there.
III
He first noticed her, sitting alone by the entrance, not when he rushed inside to order his coffee but rather when he was pouring some sugar and mixing it with a straw, through the corner of his eye, wondering why that stranger was staring at him. She was in her mid to late thirties, had dirty blonde hair, and beautiful green eyes that beamed at him with curious anxiety.
“Are you Jeff?” Her voice just as he was about to open the door froze him, he turned around and answered, “Yes, and you are?”
“Irina. I am Irina,” she replied as she stood and extended her hand for a handshake. Mesmerized, Jeff for a moment thought he was still in bed experiencing a sheer hallucination, now his nose belatedly detecting the faint smell of marijuana coming from her breath, asking himself "why would she be smoking so early in the morning?"
“Please sit down.” Like someone hit by a bolt of lightning, Jeff sat and then mumbled, “What are you doing here? Weren't we supposed to meet in Canton?”
“We did.”
“And yet you're here. Did you follow me?”
She laughed, “no I didn't follow you. I just knew.”
He glared into her pretty face and shook his head. “Sorry I had one too many drinks last night. Do you mind explaining because until a few minutes ago I had no intention of even stopping by here. How long have you been waiting here?”
“I don't know, not long.” She was not going to play it straight with him, he concluded. “I'm sorry. You agree it's weird coincidence, don't you?”
“Life is full of weird coincidences, let's say this is one of them,” she shrugged with indifference. “Can we get on business?” Jeff noticed two large yellow envelopes in front of her, asked, “Is that the papers you were gonna add?”
“Yes,” she said as she pushed one of the envelopes toward him with her delicate, manicured fingers. He opened it and saw a batch of divorce papers, put them back in and was about to utter “well then I better get going since you want these delivered by noon” but then saw that her fingers were on the verge of pushing the second envelope forward as well and yet for some reason she was hesitating, so he preempted her by asking, “is this all?”
“Well,” she said and then hesitated for a moment and then meaningfully moved the second envelope in front of him and said “go ahead open it.”
“What's this?” Jeff exclaimed after seeing the content: a couple's photo dinning at a restaurant on top of a large stack of hundred dollar bills.
“That's yours if you kill them. There is ten grand there for you.” Jeff couldn't help it, burst into a spontaneous laughter. “You can't be serious.”
“But I am. Either you do it or I'll find someone else. But I know you will.”
“You don't even know me. How can you ask a total stranger?”
“Who says we're strangers?”
“Come on give me a break lady. You don't know the slightest thing about me.”
“That's what you think. I'm serious. I want that bastard and his girlfriend dead, don't care how you do it.”
She was clearly a nut case in dire need of psychotherapy, Jeff surmised, better to cut this insane conversation short. “I'm sorry, I don't like this, don't like any of this. I just wanted to do my brother-in-law a small favor not to get mixed up with something criminal.” But she would have none of that.
“Tell me. You're an educated man. Is it not criminal to leave your wife and two kids and squander your money for a whore instead, and to quit your job just to avoid paying child alimony?”
“I see. I can really feel for you and sympathize with you, but that's why we've got laws to deal with irresponsible jerks like that. What would you gain by killing him? Revenge is not the answer.”
Irina looked away at the sudden rain outside and whispered, “Everything.” A moment of silence between them and she turned her face toward him and said, “If he dies before the divorce we get everything, after nothing, practically nothing.”
Jeff withdrew to himself for a moment, unsure how to react, his head too lazy for the onslaught of all that craziness on a New Year's Day, asked himself rhetorically, “I'm not hallucinating any of this am I?” She laughed and then touched his hand with her soft hand. “There you see. This is real, I can be very accommodating if you cooperate.” At that moment Jeff's cell rang and he saw the number, it was Mike's. He ignored it and let it go to the recorder, imagined Mike's distrusting face when he shared the juicy story at dinner table. “He'd say I've lost it for good, thanks to all the booz I consumed last night.” But then again the sight of the ten grand was too enticing, said in his head, “I could sure use that ten thousand.”
“You're not playing a game trying to make a fool out of me, are you?”
“Not at all. As I said, we know each other, but I'll tell you how after, promise.” At that moment, a couple of customers walked in and that prompted Irina to suggest they continue their conversation in her car. She had parked her Volvo behind the building. Once they got in, she gave him the second envelope again and he took his time with the photo – of Irina's husband, Ed, and his younger female companion, obviously clueless that their photo had been taken.
“What makes you think I can pull off something like this?”
“I have my intuition.”
“That's a hell of an answer. Well, I have mine too.”
“And what does that tell you?” She asked meaningfully waiting for an honest answer. A moment of pure madness attributable to his sudden attraction to her, Jeff put on an air of confidence and after clearing his throat said, “That I should do it.” That brought a sigh of relief on her face. “Do you have any idea how?”
“Well, you let me worry about that. Just need some time.”
“Okay,” she said and then told him that one of her sons had missed the school bus and was waiting for her. “I 've got to go now. Let's meet at Acton Cafe, let's say around 2 PM, after you deliver the summon. Okay?”
“You mean Acton, not Acton, right?”
“Right.” Jeff wanted to hand her the second envelope but she refused it. “It's yours, keep it.” He then got out and crossed the road toward his car, but then paused before getting in and, shaking his head in disbelief, cursed himself. “What the devil you're up to now stupid, give her back both envelopes and get out of here FAST.” With that conclusion, he turned around and, seeing Irina's engine start by the smoke puffing out of the exhaust, he wanted to run toward it but then heard the screeching sound of a car's break from behind – that hit him on the side, flew his body like a loose cannon ball several feet in the air before it bounced back on the ground, unconscious.
-IV-
Jeff woke up from a long coma one fine Sunny day at a medical facility where he had been moved after several months in hospital, without having the slightest memory of who he was and how he had gotten there. He had worked as a bartender at a couple of local bars in Boston and had a small circle of friends, as well as a couple of former girlfriends, who visited him, as did Mike and his sister, both of them heart-wrenched that Jeff did not recognize them. Given the severity of his traumatic accident that had left a large scar on the left side of his face, his doctors rightly limited the visits and pushed for his rehabilitation through simultaneous physiotherapy and psychotherapy. But, while it took several weeks before he was able to walk again, with the aid of a cane, and feed himself, his mental state was on a much slower track, considering the additional, and rather inexplicable, fact that somehow Jeff spoke French, a pure novelty to everyone in his circle of friends and family, although his seasoned therapist, Dr. Evans, had a simple explanation for it. “You see. It is not unprecedented that someone's brain remains active, even acutely active, in the course of a coma, but of course that depends on the extent of physical damages and a number of other natural variables.”
Le Petit Shaperon rouge navais pas peur de du loup.
Dr. Evans, boasting of his French skills, sought help from his cell's dictionary.
“Haha. Funny. I got it. Tres Bien.” He then asked Jeff if he had recollection of any dreams during his coma. Initially he didn't, but then by the time of the second session, Jeff had come up with a vague memory – of the recurring images of a woman with green eyes.
“Well, that's definitely a step forward. Tell me Jeff. Did this lady say or do anything?”
“Not sure. I still can't remember much, except that she looked like we were lovers or something and, oh yes, we were in a mansion of sorts, you know with high ceilings and decorations that looked like they were from a couple of centuries ago. Funny isn't it, I can't remember my first name yet can tell you what century the costumes belonged.” Dr. Evans interjected to let him know that human brains operate selectively under duress of coma and its not abnormal. At the next session, however, Jeff had more troubling information to share with his good doctor.
“The other night the dream came back, just like the million times I saw it before, but this time I could see the surrounding more clearly.”
“Interesting. Tell me about it.”
“Well, doctor. It's difficult to describe it, but this woman was crying, had an old gun in her hand and had shot me in the head, and I was bleeding and dying and yet trying to calm her down by telling her, “so you learned how to kill? Weird, isn't it?”
“Yes, very. And you're telling me you had this same dream throughout your coma?”
“Yes doctor, the only one as far as I can remember. What do you make of it?”
“If I tell you I know the answer to your question I wouldn't be honest with you, at least not now.”
“Thank you doctor. I know how tough it must be to admit sometimes we don't always have all the answers. Cella plut for que moi.” At that point, Dr. Evans drew Jeff's attention to a family photo album and his high school year book, which had been produced by his sister after searching his apartment.
“Look this is your mom and dad, do you recognize them?”
“No. Are they alive?”
“Your mom is, in a senior care in Seattle. And how about this one?”
“Who is that?”
“But silly, that's your sister Sally who has been visiting you constantly, and those are her kids.”
“Sorry doctor. I'm tired.”
“Don't worry Jeff. Just be patient. I promise you it will all come back to you.” Later, examining his face in the mirror in a public lavatory with a vacant stare, Jeff whispered “des amant desunis” He then recalled Mike's puzzling question: “What the hell were you doing in Acton kid, you were supposed to be in Acton.” A couple of days later, Jeff received a call from the Acton Police, informing him that he had certain belonging from the time of accident with them that he needed to and pick them up. His sister drove him there a week later.
-V-
A key chain, a broken watch, a cell phone, and a yellow envelope containing a big sum of money. The officer made sure he counted it twice, ten thousand total, before signing the release paper. “You always carry this much money with you?”
“Sorry. I was in a bad accident, have lost my memory. Are you sure this is mine?” Jeff was still stuttering.
“Hundred percent.” Jeff then turned to his sister, who was equally baffled, and asked rhetorically, “you don't know how, do you?” She shook her head, although not without a measure of happiness that her unfortunate brother was not destitute after all. Once they were back in the car, he for the first time noticed something else in the envelope, a couple's photo.
“Who are they?”
“No idea,” he said and then wondered if Mike did, at that moment they were passing by a coffee shop and he asked her to stop to get some coffee. On the way out, Jeff stopped by the bulletin board and tore off a telephone number for a Summer rental. There were so many unanswered questions, he had ended up in the wrong town and yet was in possession of a mysterious envelope with huge sum of money and photo of two strangers, why? At night he and Mike retreated to a quiet room after dinner and pored over the various possibilities and still couldn't come up with one plausible explanation. “This is fucking weird man. Never seen anything like this my whole life, and believe me I've seen a lot.” Jeff, on the other hand, wanted to make sure that the woman in the photo was not the one who had asked her papers to be served that day.
“No, not the same woman. I ended up serving the papers a few days after your accident and saw her. Different woman, no similarity. This one is at least ten years younger than her. Besides, she lives in Canton and you wouldn't be running into her in Acton, trust me.”
“Then I must find the answer in Acton. Ca mest egal.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just a little frustrated.” Mike understood. His wife was still blaming him and he felt guilty although he was also happy for the free money that Jeff had landed that day, for some peculiar reason unbeknown to them all.
-VI-
Flushed with unexpected cash, Jeff had no qualm about dishing a bulk of it to the real estate agent who rented him the tiny cottage off Main Street in Acton. He even felt healthy enough to purchase a second hand car and sit behind the wheel with caution, knowing that his bout of migraine headache was far from over. Despite the protestation by his sister and brotherly advice against it by Mike, Jeff moved to Acton with the sole intention of finding out who were the couple in the picture and who had given him that large sum of money and why? But, equally bothersome was the terrible images of his own execution in his dreams that begged for an explanation. Sometimes he wished he could dream the same dream again and other times he prayed that his memory of it would burn forever. Upon arrival at the cottage, Jeff began unpacking and then browsed through the pages of his year book and the lines below his youthful photo, paused on the line: Favorite movie: The reincarnation of Peter Proud. It jolted him and for the first time since his recovery, he summoned the necessary courage to pose the pertinent question to himself, in light of his weird 19th century recurrent dream and his inexplicable mastery of French language, of whether or not he himself had experienced reincarnation? It was an unsettling ray of discovery that could not be extinguished, much as he tried to convince himself that he should stop such bizarre notions that made others think he has lost it.
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