Caged Birds-02
- "Caged Birds Don't Fly High - Chapter Two"
- by xenaRRa
To Kelley without whom this would have remained only a dream.
All characters in this work are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
This work may not be reproduced in any form without the express permission of the author.
Copyright 1989 by K. Xenarra Brown.
CHAPTER TWO
"It means that you and I were linked in a previous life," she answered. I stared at Rebecca in disbelief. "It means that the bond you begged me for this evening was actually forged years ago. That's why it's so strong. It also means that we have a lot of work ahead of us." She smiled easily, trying to break the tension in the room.
"This is too weird for me," I responded and sat up. "I think I'll find a way home now. You're one nutty fruitcake I don't need to hang around."
"Look at me," Rebecca commanded.
I felt compelled to look at her. I resisted with everything I had. Just as I felt I was winning, the full strength of her energy crashed through the barricade I had erected. If I had been standing, I would have been knocked off my feet. "Don't want to," I mumbled, unable to function coherently at any more than a superficial level.
"I know you don't want to, doll. But look at me. Right now!" Her words pierced through my last mental wall. I no longer had a choice. Fearful of the power she had shown me, I turned my face to hers.
"Committments like this don't really involve want to's," she said as she held my gaze. "You need to remember everything that you can, as soon as you can."
"But I don't understand why," I said, pouting like a child taken away from her toys.
"At this point, you're not ready for the why," she replied. "You're going to have to trust me and try. Sit still for a minute. I need to get something." Her hand patted my shoulder, reinforcing the command as she moved her lithe body from the bed. I could see her breasts swaying gently as she moved across the room and paused before a jewelry box on the bureau. I couldn't quite see what she removed, though I could tell it was shiny and made a faint jingling sound.
Rebecca came slowly back to the bed. Her body was a pleasure to watch; one smooth, flowing motion leading into the next. She moved with a sensuousness which made me think of the Greek goddesses. She slipped back into bed beside me as I sat mesmerized.
"I'm going to show you something. You've never seen it before, but I don't want you to become afraid if you remember it. Just seeing it may trigger some memories for you." I held out my hand, but Rebecca put what was cradled in her fingers behind her back and took my hand up in both of hers. "Listen to me," she commanded, and I forced my curiousity down and attended to her voice. "This is real. This is really happening. You may find that your grip on reality may become a little shakey in the next few minutes. But I'm here, and I'll take good care of you. Come here and let me hug you."
I had pulled back from her, inch by inch, as she spoke. I didn't have the foggiest idea what she was talking about, and the not knowing scared me. But she held me close and called me her good girl, and suddenly, everything seemed right again. I could try to remember, if I did it for her. Her strange power had again gripped my heart and bent my will to follow hers. Oddly, I didn't resent the exterior control. I rather enjoyed allowing someone else to be the strong one for a change. I embraced Rebecca with all I had, wishing it would never end, yet eager to get on to whatever challenges she might present and hoping that I would be up to them.
Rebecca broke the hug first. Setting me back a bit from her, she reached behind her and drew forth a small necklace made entirely of tiny silver bells. She held it between her hands allowing the bells to dance and tinkle.
"Do you remember this?" she asked.
"That's not a necklace, is it?" I said.
"No, dear, it's not for your neck. Do you remember what it is for?"
"Bracelet. Um. No. That's not right. It goes on my left ankle. Why is it on my left ankle? Oh, yes." As I continued to look at the intricate silver chain, my mind began to associate freely with my subconscious. I saw a scene in front of me as clearly as if I had been watching a movie. The same tall, dark-haired woman was there. This time she was very angry at the small girl in front of her. The air was musty, still, stifling. The woman wore perfume which swelled and filled the entire room overpoweringly.
In a flash I realized that I was the small girl, and the woman towering over me was my mistress. I could hear the woman's voice clearly in my head. I began repeating what I could hear for Rebecca's benefit.
"I can't trust you any more. You stole from me, and now I can't trust you. Stick out your foot," the woman said angrily. Terrified, the girl, me, stuck her left foot out. The mistress fastened a chain of silver bells around the girl's ankle. "There. When you move, that will make enough noise to raise the dead. Now I'll always be able to find you. You won't be able to sneak around on me now."
"Din't nean to. Din't nean to," girl wailed plaintively in my mind. The words I spoke aloud matched her own imperfect speech.
"Sorry. Sorry. Din't nean to," I whispered as my body pitched forward in the bed, the impact of the woman's displeasure still ringing in my ears.
Rebecca caught and held me snugly as I resisted the urge to stay in that dream world. Regaining control was as difficult as swimming uphill in jello. Both worlds appeared equally solid and substantial. Rebecca's voice called me back to the present, but my mind's eye could still see the vivid scene as I turned to look at her.
"What was that? What's happening to me? How can I have memories of a place I've never been and a chain I've never seen? What are you doing to me?" The last came out as a wail, and I burst into tears. Rebecca again pulled me close, held me until my sobs subsided, stroking my hair with those nails.
"Let me tell you a story which may help you understand," she began. I was held by her hands and my own curiousity. If she could shed some light on the experience I had just had, it would be worth the time to listen. And it was just too hard to resist her touch - much easier to give in and enjoy.
"When I was younger, much younger," Rebecca began, "about a year and a half old, I fell against a very hot, pot-bellied stove." I gasped, but Rebecca went on. "I was running and tripped. I reached out to break my fall, and instead caught the stove. I was burned very badly on my hands, arms and the entire left side of my face." I stared at that flawless face, unable to find any trace of the terrible accident. "My parents were hill people, so my mother doctored the burns as best she could and took me to a local woman who was known as a healer."
"The best way I can explain what that healer did for me is that she talked the burn out. I know that doesn't make sense, but this woman was very skilled and, as you can see, she did good work.
As I grew older, that woman became my mentor. She helped me open up my subconscious, and she helped me find my gift."
"Your gift?" I asked.
"It's more like a curse. I can see the past and the future. I know it sounds stupid, but it's true. Seeing the future is usually a curse, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. But sometimes it can work to my advantage. Take tonight, for instance. Seeing ahead got me to that terrible party and let me know when to leave and which cab to take."
"You mean you knew you and I were going to . . . You knew before we got into that cab that we were . . . Oh, sweet Jesus Christ, you have lost your marbles." My voice was soft, filled with disbelief.
"I could go through a lot of complicated tests to prove I know what I know. But I think it would be better if you just thought for a minute. Why would I pick tonight? Perhaps because your boyfriend is out of town for the weekend?"
"But how did you know that?" I asked. "I didn't tell a soul."
"See what I mean? Now, don't get all upset. I'm not about to go prying about inside your head, so don't worry. I can if I need to, and you need to be aware of that. Who knows, you may find that you can read some of my thoughts, too. I'm pretty good at blocking, however, so don't be discouraged if you don't get much at first."
I sat very still and closed my eyes. At first I thought that Rebecca had spent the last five minutes telling be a bunch of nonsense. But a voice inside my head urged me to try, so I relaxed and matched my breathing to hers. As I began to give up my negative feelings, I was met with a mental image of great warmth, beautiful roaring fireplaces and arms embracing me. There weren't any words spoken, just a general feeling of well-being, and being accepted.
"I feel loved," I said at last. "I feel at home and loved."
"See, you can pick things up out of my mind, also. The reason the vision of the chain was so vivid was that the memory came from both of our subconscious minds." I looked at her quizically, and she continued. "Do you remember that I told you we were linked in the past?" I nodded. "Well, both of our minds are locked into a particular set of memories whenever we see this bracelet." She gave it a shake, and I could almost hear the voices again in my head. "Tell me what you saw," Rebecca said.
"There was a room, almost like a bedroom. A sitting room, I guess," I began indecisively, as if unsure of the reality of what I had seen. "There was a tall, dark-haired woman there. She was very angry. She was yelling at a very small girl. And . . " my voice trailed off.
"And?" Rebecca prompted.
"This sounds crazy, but it was as though I was the girl. And . . ." I paused, suddenly making a connection, "And you were the woman, weren't you?" I finished triumphantly.
"Yes, dear, I was," Rebecca replied.
"That's why I felt so attracted to you, isn't it?" I asked excitedly. Rebecca nodded. "But you were so mean to me. Why were you so mean?"
"I was a different person then, love. I've learned a lot since then. I know you have often thought that I was a real dangerous bitch," she said.
"How could you have known that? I never told anyone. I never meant any harm." I was suddenly afraid.
"Not to worry, love. You were right. I used to be a very dangerous person. But I've learned to moderate many of those feelings. I can control myself much better than I ever did in that pervious life."
"Previous life? What do you mean?" I asked, knowing and dreading the answer.
"You and I shared a previous life. The room you are seeing is from, what was for me, two lifetimes ago. I'd rather if you told me as much as you can from your memories," she said, then continued as if to answer my unspoken question. "Telling me what you see and hear, reliving the time we spent together may very well clear up some of the questions you've had all your life. Haven't you ever had a feeling that you don't quite fit into this world?"
I nodded. I had often felt out of place, lost among people who should have been peers and friends. I frequently felt too large, awkward, and clumsy despite my 5'4" frame. I felt jammed into a body that I couldn't control, unable to function gracefully, rather like a baby giraffe shortly after birth _ all elbows and legs and nothing working together.
"I imagine that a lot of the missing puzzle pieces are buried in that past life. You have a perfect opportunity to discover who you were, your missing identity as it were. What do you say, are you game to try? Or would you prefer to continue blundering through life without all of the information available?" Her look challenged me. I didn't want to try. I was afraid of what I might discover. But I did want to please Rebecca. Even if that wasn't the right reason, it was a reason, and about the only one which made any sense at that moment.
"Tell you what," she said. "Rather than trying to get through all this tonight, why don't you spend the weekend. We can tackle this together."
"Well," I replied, not exactly overjoyed at the prospect of intense memories of the past flooding my waking hours with confusion. Yet, I wanted the contact with Rebecca to continue. She was addictive _ the more time we spent together, the more time I wanted.
"I will tell you that you're probably going to remember everything from your past life. The question is, do you want to do it by yourself, of with help?" Her tone offered no compromise. The choice I had to make might determine, perhaps just in a small way, the direction my life would take. I wrestled with the probabilities. Did I really want to take this journey alone? Was I more frightened of Rebecca, or of the possibility of losing myself in the past?
I found myself unable to answer her directly. My vocal cords had gone numb, and my brain was the consistency of oatmeal. I looked up at Rebecca, pleading 'help me' with my eyes.
"Roll over," Rebecca commanded. I obeyed. On my tummy, I cradled my head in my arms. Rebecca laid down next to me and draped an arm over my back. "Decisions tomorrow," she said. "Now, get some sleep." Unable to withstand her authority, I felt like a child as I drifted off into a deep sleep which welcomed me with open arms.
The next morning, I woke up before Rebecca, the stored tension from the previous night longing for a release. Using the same towel, I showered again, then donned my clothes and prepared to leave. She staggered out of the bedroom as I was just about to leave.
"You made any coffee yet?" she asked, yawning enormous yawns and rubbing her eyes. "What time is it anyway?"
"Eight-thirty," I answered. "I was just on my way out."
"Eight-thirty? On a Saturday? And you said I had lost my marbles!" She stumbled into the kitchen and began clattering coffee and percolator in a strident melody. I felt as though I couldn't just leave, much as I wanted to. I walked to the kitchen, determined to give my thanks and leave directly.
"Doll," she began as I entered the small room, "do you like bagels? There's some in the refrigerator. Nuke one for me when you do yours, would you?" Rebecca spoke easily, sleepily, as though we had shared an apartment and more for years. She sat down at the tiny table which occupied one end of the room and put her head down on her arms, waiting for the coffee to perk.
I was somewhat hungry, so I searched out the bagels and warmed them in the microwave. Butter, cream cheese and plates were easy to find. By the time I laid out the meal, the coffee was ready. I filled a cup for Rebecca and placed it before her, not really understanding why I wanted to serve her, just giving into the impulse.
She raised her head slowly as the aroma of the cup in front of her penetrated her morning haze. She reached for the cup without focusing and drained it quickly. She handed it to me, and although I had only just sat down myself, I got up and filled it again without complaint. The impulse to serve her was undeniable, yet vaguely annoying. Why was I doing this?
"Because you want to, doll," she said as she took a sip from the cup.
"Stop doing that!" I nearly shouted. "Get the hell out of my head!"
"Not so loud, love. It's hard enough to deal with your subconscious. I'm not in your head by choice, I can assure you. But you broadcast your feelings so strongly that I can't avoid picking them up. Imagine a pair of giant speakers playing rock music in the middle of a field. There is no way that anyone passing nearby can avoid hearing the music. You project your emotions that strongly."
"I don't mean to," I said sullenly.
"I know, dear," she responded. "If you were sending that loudly at eight-forty on a Saturday on purpose, I would have do something to, shall we say, correct your attitude."
Neither the words nor the tone was particularily sinister, yet I was suddenly aware of another time she had used those same words, with much more drastic consequences. I felt myself traveling back again. I sat down and grabbed my head in my hands as I felt the world shifting. It was only a moment before I could see that same scene in front of me. Each time I saw it, it became more real, the details became clearer. This time I was not only aware of the voices and smells, I could feel the heat from the fireplace very near where the girl, where I was standing and the cold breeze seeping in from the casement window.
"Talk to me. Tell me what you see. Tell me what you hear." Rebecca's prompts came to me from a distance of time and space. I began to speak, but it was difficult to make the words come out. I struggled to make sense of what I heard and saw. The person I was had limited abilities. What Rebecca required was difficult, almost like translating an idiom of English into a foreign language.
"It's before you put the bracelet on me. You're mad, you're very upset. No, that's not right. I do have that thing on my ankle. I hate it. I want it off. I used to fight that thing, didn't I?"
"Yes, doll, you scraped yourself raw trying to get it off. What else do you see?" Rebecca answered me across the void of time.
"It's very warm. You're hitting me. My hands are tied up, and you're hitting me on the butt and thighs with a piece of willow switch." The impact of the scene swept over me, and I began quoting the words I heard as the woman struck me again and again.
"First you stole from me, then you broke your bowl. And then you lied about it. We don't like liars, do we? Liars have to be punished. Liars need to be corrected. You need to be corrected, don't you?"
"No!" the girl I was screamed. "I din't do it. I din't broke the bowl. I not lie. I truth."
"Still lying? I know you did it. No one else could have. How many times do I have to hit you before you confess?" The strokes continued, and I could feel the welts rising on my buttocks and legs.
"Din't do it! Din't do it!" I protested. Then I could feel my bladder lose control, the warm fluid running down my legs and puddling on the stone floor.
"What? What are you doing on my floor? How dare you pee on my floor? You're nothing but an animal. A dirty, filty animal."
"Sorry. Sorry. Din't nean to. Sorry."
I saw the anger in the woman's eyes turn to fury. She release the girl's hands, my hands, and began to drag me across the room toward a tall box. I resisted, struggled with all my might, but the tiny young body I occupied was no match for her superior strength.
"Animals have to be caged. This is your cage. Get in," she commanded.
"No. Rea scared. Peas, misress. Peas, no."
"Animals go in cages," she said again and in one smooth motion lifted my small frame and dumped me into the box. She slammed down the lid, and I could hear the sound of a lock closing, preventing my escape. There were cracks of light filtering through the wooden lid which barely penetrated the gloom inside the box. Dust came through the cracks also, and got into my eyes adding to my discomfort. I began to beat my fists against the lid, the fear I felt in the closed, dark space driving me to strike again and again.
I felt Rebecca's hands on my arms, holding them still. I couldn't understand the words she was saying, but the calm voice pierced through the veil which separated the past and the present. The mental picture I had unwillingly become a part of slowly slipped away, and I found myself standing in the middle of the bedroom, pointing at a large cedar chest and crying.
"It's ok now. It's ok. I'm not going to hurt you. It's ok." I could now comprehend what Rebecca had been saying for the past few minutes. I saw the kindness and concern on her face, and something inside me crumbled. My tears began afresh as I melted into her arms. She led me over to the bed, and we sat down together, still tightly embracing each other.
"Do you see what I mean now?" she queried. "You won't be able to control these memory flashbacks until you have relived a majority of the time we spent together. Do you really want to tackle this alone?"
I shook my head and buried myself more deeply in the folds of her robe. I didn't want to remember anything else, but if there was no escape from the memories, I certainly didn't want to go through that alone.
"That's better. I would like you to start right now. After that last episode, I think sooner would definitely be better." I nodded. It would be alright if she was with me and aware of what was happening. Maybe I could remember everything quickly and be done with this. I certainly hoped so.
"What, what do I do?" I asked.
"For starters, scoot back onto the pillows and get comfortable," Rebecca replied. I did that, lying on my back with my head supported and my arms resting gently at my sides. "I'm going to show you the bells again. But this time I want you to drift back and not make any attempt to tell me what is going on inside your head. It will seem like a dream, a very vivid dream that you are a part of. If you get upset, I'll wake you up. After a while, if you don't come back on your own, I'll make sure you come back. Then you can tell me anything I haven't picked up by myself. Agreed?"
"You will make sure I come back, won't you?"
"Yes, love. I won't leave you in the past for too long. Are you ready?"
"Well, probably not," I answered with a slight smile, "but go ahead. Sock it to me anyway."
Rebecca held the string of bells in front of me, moving it so gently that the bells barely rang. "I want you to go back to the beginning," she said in a soft monotone. "I want you to remember a time before you met me. Remember your parents. Remember where you lived. Remember . . ."
That was the last word I heard as I drifted off.
What links here • Help • Contact info
{{Stories by xenaRRa}}