I’m  starting to freak out.  Am I losing  it? Or is this just some kind of  phase I’m going through?  I’m not sure  if any of it is real.  Okay,  Markus, get a hold of yourself.  You’re not  crazy . . . yet.
In school today I can’t  focus at all.   Class after class the only thing I can think of is my  angel and all  the strange experiences I’ve been having.  And Val’s been  asking me  nonstop about what happened last night.  I don’t know for how  long I  can fend her off.  It’s weird enough that I lived, or maybe  dreamed,  another person’s life.  But how do I explain that I felt I had  lived  the life of Helen, a woman!  Too weird.  Should I go to the school   counselor?  Better not.  I don’t need things getting any more   complicated than they already are right now.  I see Val waiting at our   lunch table.  I can see the questions in her face before I even sit   down. 
“Markus,” Val started   in right away, “You’ve been dancing around my questions all morning.    Last night you were so excited to tell me about it.  Why all of a   sudden you’re avoiding it?” 
“Well,” I started hesitatingly, “It’s   pretty weird and, honestly, I don’t know how you’re going to react to   what I experienced last night.” 
“Markus, I’ve known you since middle   school… since the day you moved in for Pete’s sake.  Who else could you   trust?  Besides, I know you’re weird and I’m okay with it.  So, are you   going to tell me now or what?” 
It’s hard to argue with someone who knows   you so well.  And she’s right. Val and I have shared everything these   past years.  I guess I can be honest with her about having been Helen  in  my dream.
“Ok Val,” I sighed,  “But after classes meet me at Java Lava  for a coffee and I’ll tell you  all about it there.”  
“Deal,” Val said. “But  you’re buying  since you’re making me wait.”  
After school I head  over to Java Lava  which is Val’s and my favorite café and hang out  spot.  We go at least  twice a week.   Java Lava is a cool artsy place  with paintings from  local artists on the brightly colored walls.  It  has an industrial look  with concrete floors but at the same time it’s  so cozy too.  But most of  all, they have the best frappacinos in town.    
Val was there waiting  for me on one of  the overstuffed chairs in the corner.    Now I’m  nervous again.  How do I  start this conversation?  Oh heck, I’ll just  jump right into it.  So I  sit down and spill the whole story of how I  experienced a year in the  life of a woman named Helen who lived in the  1940s.  Val sat there  listening carefully and quietly as I gave her  every detail from where  Helen worked to how she met Frank, got married,  and was killed in a car  accident with her new husband.  When I finish  Val is still sitting there  across from me.  That should be a good sign.  I think.   
“Well,” I say, “That’s  all of it. That’s  what I experienced while I was out cold on the  Binyamin’s living room  carpet.  So, what do you think Val? Tell me.”
“Markus, that’s the   most romantic story I ever heard,” she finally said. “You know I’m a   sucker for these kinds of stories.  Why do you think I cry like a baby   every time I see Titanic?  But this story of yours was so beautiful.  It   really was.”
“Val, whatever, but this is really freaking me out!”
“I think you’re lucky   to be having these experiences Markus.  I mean, it sure beats the heck   out of my boring life!  But, well, yeah, I can see how it is weird and   kind of freaky too,” she said. 
“But as nice as you find the story, Val,   I’m sure it’s all just in my head.  It has to be.  I mean who are these   people?  Helen and Ruth.  Their friend Alice. And Anna, Anna Van  Ordt.   Or Anna Hooks, actually, after she got married.” 
Suddenly Val went   white.  She tilted her head slowly and fixed her eyes right onto mine.  I   can see her jaw dropping before me.  
“What Val?  What is it?” 
“Hooks!” she says.  “Anna Hooks?  Markus,   that’s my last name and, you’re not going to believe this, but my   grandmother is Anna Hooks and, Markus,” she leans in close, “Before that   she was . . . Anna Van Ordt!”
Now this just can’t   be.  I can’t speak.  I’m stunned beyond words.  Val’s face too is frozen   in disbelief.  I’m also starting to get a bad feeling.  I don’t know   how to describe it. It’s like the feeling I got yesterday when I was at   the principal’s office.  And I felt it as Helen in the car right before   she crashed.  Then, something even more weird happens.  I look out the   window and across the street and my jaw hits the floor.  That black   suit.  That red tie.  It’s Eiden.
“Val!” I said in a   screaming whisper, “Look across the street.  It’s him, it’s Eiden!” 
“Where,” Val asks swinging her neck   around to see out the window behind her.  “What, you mean that guy in   the red tie?”  
“Yes! Val, that’s him.”
Across the street Eiden was looking at   us.  Then he smiled, waved and started to walk away.  The further he got   down the street better I started to feel. What the heck is going on? 
“So that’s Eiden?” Val asks bringing me   back to the moment.  “The new guy?”
“Yes,” I said. “And every time I see him I   get weird feelings.”
“You’ve had a lot of weird feelings   lately Markus. Anyway, just pay no attention to that creep.  Now, what   about my grandmother?  Markus, she’s Anna Van Ordt Hooks.  And this   Helen you’re talking about I’ll bet was one of her friends.  Markus   listen, next week we’re going to drive up to see her.  Why don’t you   come with us?” 
“Gee, I don’t know Val.   It might be kind of awkward going on your family outing.” 
“Are you kidding   Markus?  My parents have all but adopted you.  You’re like family to us   and so you should come meet my grandmother anyway.  You can talk to  her,  ask if there really was a Helen and a Ruth and an Alice.  Maybe  you  could find out what the heck’s been going on.”
“Well, maybe it would   be okay,” I answered.
“Good, then it’s settled. Besides, we’ll   have a fun time up by the lake where my grandma lives.”  
“Yeah,” I say, “It’ll be fun I guess.”    Only now I’m getting super curious about my friends from back during the   war. What happened to Ruth and Alice. I hope Val’s grandmother knows   something. 
“Markus,” Val says   leaning over the table to get closer.  “I can’t stop thinking about that   Shimbala legend, the one Mr. Binyamin was telling us about.  Do you   think there is a connection between that and what you’re going through?    Today during my free period I looked that legend up.  I found some   articles about the basic story, but nothing as detailed as Mr. Binyamin   told us.”
“Oh yeah,” I say, “The   legend.  I forgot about that. Well, I don’t know Val.  I mean there   could be some connection.  We need to talk to Mr. Binyamin again and get   more about that story.”
“So I’m guessing we’re going to give our   new neighbors a visit tomorrow?”
“Yes,   Val, we will,” I said finally being able to smile again.  
“Excuse me,” the waitress said cutting   into our conversation.  “Anything I can get you two?  We have a   wonderful new caramel latte that you might like to try.”
As I looked up and   listened to the waitress I find I can’t stop looking at her.  She’s so   cheerful and she seems familiar too.  I feel a calmness coming over me   like a familiar blanket.  I just had to ask her . . . .
“I’m sorry, but have you always worked   here?”
“Oh no,” she said   breaking into a smile.  “I’m new. In fact this is my first day.”
Then I must not have seen her before.    But there was something so familiar about her and, like most of the   things happening to me lately, I can’t put my finger on it.  I’m   starting to get really frustrated.
“We’ll try two of your   new caramel lattes,” Val chimes in.  
“Coming right up,” the   waitress says.  She then turns to walk away.  I keep thinking that I   saw her when I was younger maybe.  Not sure and more than likely it’s   just my imagination again.  
“So, what would you   like to do now?” Val asks.
“Well, I’ve got some   reading to do Val. I’ll do that now and when we finish our lattes then I   need to get home and start that book report on “Tale of Two Cities”   that’s due next week for English Class.”
“Yeah, you better catch up on that cause   Mrs. Schneider takes no prisoners when it comes to her book reports.    And you seemed really zoned out in class today.  Here, take my notes   home with you and copy them.”
“Val, you’re the best,” I said with   relief.  “Great, here come our drinks.”  I don’t see the new waitress.
End
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