The MacGuffin - Chapter 2

remembering the encounter with Sari Johnson

The tarmac beyond the thick glass window was barely visible between gusts of wind as the snow swirled and plastered itself to every surface. Tessa sat and stared out the window trying to process the change on the departures board above her head. It was clearly obvious why her flight was delayed, but it was also inconvenient. She had scheduled herself on the last possible flight to Chicago which would allow her time to freshen up quickly at the hotel room before heading out to the meeting. Depending on how long the delay was, she would either have to go straight to the conference, or call ahead and postpone. She watched luggage handlers struggling to shove a rack of bags and suitcases into the hold of a nearby plane. One large red case slipped free and landed hard on the pavement.  Hopefully there was nothing breakable in that one.

“Ms. Beardon!” A voice shook Tessa from her musings. She looked up to see a young woman in a grey business suit with a cream blouse. Any more beige and grey and the woman would blend in with the airport decor. Tessa was not surprised that she did not recognize her.

“It’s pronounced bear-don or beard-on, depending on which family member you ask, but my last name is not Burden.”

“Oh, I am so sorry, Ms. Beardon. I’ve only seen it spelled out on paperwork or company memos. I really am sorry.”

“Ah,” thought Tessa. Another employee at HS&B. Probably a law clerk, which would explain the subservient attitude.  “And you are?”

“Sari, Ms. Beardon.” Tessa thought for a second the woman was apologizing again. “Sari Johnston. I’m with the firm. In Human Resources.” A small manicured hand was extended toward Tessa.

Tessa took the hand offered. “Were you trying to catch me before my flight left, or are you here on other business?”

“Oh no, no, no. I was on loan to Mr. Biggins for a couple of days. I have a knack for reading people quickly so Mr. Biggins asked for my assistance.”

“Knack for reading people?”

“Oh yes. Some might say I’m psychic but I don’t know much about that. Like I know that right now you are worrying about how long your flight is going to be delayed.”

“Easy guess.” Tessa jerked her right thumb over her shoulder at the board behind her.

“Well yeah, but you are twisting that pretty ring around your finger as you glance at the departures board.”

“Okay.” Observant, thought Tessa.

“It is also easy to guess you are traveling for the firm from the briefcase. But you are wearing comfortable clothes so you weren’t planning on going straight to a meeting. That means you are going to need some time to change somewhere. If your flight is delayed too long, then you will have to go dressed as you are or change in an airport bathroom. So, you need to know how long you will be delayed.” Sari counted her points on her fingers as she spoke.

“Very observant,” Tessa said aloud. “Or are you actually psychic and just rationalized it all out for me?”

“Well, my mom says I’m psychic but my dad says that all psychics are really just natural mentalists.”

“Mentalist?” Tessa was unsure of the term.

“You know, like Sherlock Holmes. Able to notice small details and fit them together in a few moments to make a deduction.” There was a hint of question in Sari’s voice. “That’s why Mr. Barr the Third suggested I work in Human Relations for the firm. I notice things during interviews that can help management make their decisions.”

“And Craig Biggins thought to make use of your talents in a business meeting? Shrewd.”

“I guess so. He didn’t ask me much after the meeting so I’m not sure.”

Tessa let that statement just hang in the air. She felt the young woman was tensing for another conversation. “So, Sari. That’s right, Sari? Pretty name. Were either of your parents from India or did they just like the sound?”

“Mom wanted something a little unusual and Dad wanted Sarah. Voilà, Sari. Um, Ms. Beardon … may I call you Contessa?”

“Absolutely not!” Tessa’s voice had more force than she had intended. As Sari hunched, pulling into herself protectively, Tessa quickly adjusted. “No, no. Sorry. I have never been fond of my given name. Call me Tessa. Everyone does.” Tessa smiled to reassure the other woman.

Sari released a deep breath. “Oh, thanks, Ms. … uh, Tessa.” She said the name as if she was trying on a new article of clothing.  “I hope you don’t mind me bothering you.”

Tessa indicated the waiting area seat next to hers. Sari sat with the graceful movement of a bygone era. “I’m not going anywhere soon.”

The two women smiled at that. Sari reached into her large handbag and pulled out a book which she then held close to her chest with crossed arms. Tessa could read the search for a way to start a conversation in Sari’s body language. Maybe she was a bit of a mentalist as well. She grinned inwardly at that thought.

“I have been wanting to talk to you for some time now. Shortly after I started at HS&B, I saw you in the coffee shop.” The coffee shop referred to the famous coffee chain outlet on the street level of their building. Most of the staff could be found there at some point of the day, grabbing a hot beverage with or without a sandwich or pastry. “Somehow I had the strange sensation that I knew you from somewhere, like we had a connection.” Before Tessa could interrupt, Sari took a quick breath and continued, “I asked who you were and knew immediately that we’d never met.”

“Did you grow up here in the city? We could have met as kids.”

Sari shook her head. “No, I moved here from Wilmette to take this job. I was told that you were born and raised here.” With Tessa’s affirmation, she continued in a hush, “Do you believe in reincarnation, Ms. Beardon?”

“Never really thought about it, I must admit.”

Sari seemed to search for words again. “I don’t know what to believe. My mother is into all that metaphysical stuff but my dad is a pure realist, or rationalist, whatever. Every time I find myself thinking like one of them, I can hear the other one’s voice contradicting me. Gets confusing at times.”

Tessa was uncertain how to reply; her lawyer instincts kept her nonreactive. She waited while Sari found her next words.

“Anyway, I have this book that I’ve been carrying around with me since I read it a while back. I’d like to give it to you to see if you think I’m being silly or if we might have been friends before.” The last was said in a conspiratorial tone. Sari pushed the book she had been hugging toward Tessa. As Tessa took hold of the book, the other woman jumped up and hurried off.

“Wait!” Tessa called after her.

Sari turned quickly and called back. “Please let me know when you have read it. You know where to find me.” She gave a friendly wave and continued her retreat.

Tessa watched the wee mouse skitter off and then turned the book over to read the cover: Discover Your Eternal Mission. Intriguing title, for certain. The cover art showed an androgynous body standing at the beginning of what seemed like a corridor of mirrors. The whole picture was clouded by a fog effect despite a brilliant light coming from the far end of the corridor. Just above the author’s name at the bottom was a subtitle: Using Past Life Regression to Learn Your Own Secrets. Aha! The conversation with Sari was starting to make some sense. The mousy girl had read this book and gotten the notion that she knew Tessa from another lifetime. Tessa tossed the book aside.

Tessa caught herself staring at the flashing “delayed” on the board and, remembering what Sari had said, checked to see if she was fussing with her ring. Sure enough the amethyst with its vanguard of diamond chips was hiding in her palm. Daniel had given her the ring a year after they had started dating. At the time she had thought he was so romantic to have remembered their anniversary but later learned that a friend of his had sold him the ring to get some fast cash. Daniel was like an old pair of comfortable jeans.  He was reliable and predictable and for the most part Tessa liked the cozy relationship they had but she did wish for more romance at times. Unwilling to rehash this line of thinking yet again, Tessa leapt up and headed for the departures desk.

“Flight 1020 will begin boarding in five minutes. Will all passengers for Flight 1020 please assemble at gate three?”

Okay. That answered her question. Tessa turned back and gathered up her overnight bag, her briefcase, and the newspaper she had been reading before the flight had been postponed. As she pulled on the paper, Sari’s book fell to the floor. She should bring it along so she could return it. It would go missing if was left here and Tessa was certain that Sari only meant to loan it to her. Tessa scooped the book and tucked it under her arm with the newspaper.

A short while later, Tessa was settling into her seat overlooking the wing. She pulled out all of her notes and research paperwork from her briefcase and tucked the case into the overhead compartment where her overnight bag was already stored. She wanted to go over everything for the meeting even though she was more than prepared. Fred Newman of Newman Records was a stickler for details so Tessa needed to ensure that she had the proverbial Ts crossed. She poured over financial records that she almost knew by heart and read through research reports.

The public address system crackled to life. “We are completing last minute flight preparations and then we will be lifting off.”

Tessa glanced at her watch. She definitely had to change in the Chicago airport and get a taxi quickly to get to the meeting now. She turned back to the amassed reports. She already knew everything she had read and she knew what was left to read. It was pointless to go through it all again; it might even be counterproductive. She stood and tucked all the papers back into her briefcase. She plucked out the newspaper from the edge of her seat where she had placed it earlier. Once again Sari’s book took a tumble. Tessa considered the options available to amuse herself. The newspaper was full of the political machinations and crime reports that she had listened to in the car on the way to the airport. On the other hand, while Sari’s book seemed like just so much New Age nonsense, Tessa was a little curious. But not curious enough. These commuter planes did not have movies so she plugged in her headphones, found a jazz station, and closed her eyes.

Tessa could see herself standing in the Newman boardroom explaining to their board of directors why the purchase of three small independent recording studios was going to pose unusual problems. She planned to suggest to Newman that they consider each studio as an individual purchase or go back to their blanket offer and avoid the present problems. Damn. Even when she was not reading through the paperwork, she was still planning the meeting. Tessa reached for Sari’s book and began to read.

 

A little over a week after Tessa’s trip to Chicago, she and Tori were discussing the book over an eggplant lasagna while watching powdery snowflakes drift outside. Tori joked that seeing a psychologist never hurt anyone. Tessa had to admit that the idea now intrigued her. The worst that could happen is that she would get a couple of expensive naps. She did raise the fear of being influenced while under hypnosis.

“Get the doctor to put in a suggestion that you become less of a workaholic.” Tori teased. Tori was pushing to be a matron of honor again.

“I am not a workaholic.” Tessa insisted.

“You are. This idea won’t go anywhere because you’d actually have to take some time out of your work week.”

“Seriously, T2, how does one go about finding a psychologist who can do past life regression? It’s just a silly notion if I have no clue where to start. The book only insisted on getting a psychologist. It never gave any idea how.” Tessa detected a hint of a whine in her own voice.

Tori pulled out her handy cellphone. With a few movements, she had the information pages open to psychologists in their area. She picked the first name on the list and dialed. A bright voice answered at the other end.

“Yes, hello.” Tori sounded rather upbeat herself. “Can you tell me if Dr. Abrams is capable of doing hypnosis? He does? That’s good. Does he do past life regressions? Hmmm. I suppose not. Can you think of anyone in the city or nearby area who does? How do you spell that? Well, thank you very much. I appreciate your help. Thank you. Bye.” Tori grinned at Tessa. “Want me to set up an appointment with Dr. Baille or do you want to do it yourself?”

“Okay, Cheshire, you can stop with the silly grin.” Tessa wanted to both smack her friend and hug her. Trust Tori to just do something instead of worrying about how to do it. “Just give me the contact number.”

 

Tessa looked about the waiting room still amazed that one, she was even here, two, she had been given the time off without a lot of embarrassing questions, and three, that Dr. Baille had found a convenient time slot available in his schedule. The leather furniture in the room suggested that the doctor was either doing quite well or was in debt to a rental place. She was amused by the juxtaposition of the copies of Munch’s The Scream and Manet’s The Bonnet set side by side. Either the doctor had a strange sense of humor or his decorator did. What surprised Tessa the most was that there was no receptionist. There was simply a beautifully lettered sign on the next door stating that the doctor was busy so please sit and wait. Tessa was studying a framed sketch of a woodland scene when the door opened.

Dr. Marc Baille was a tall well-built man with a shock of black curls atop a wide tanned forehead. He wore a stylish golf shirt and dress slacks. His nose and lips betrayed his mixed heritage while his accent named him from Louisiana. “I’m guessing that you are Ms. Beardon.”

Tessa was immediately warmed by the lilt of laughter in the big man’s voice. She accepted the extended hand. His was the firm but gentle grasp of a gentleman greeting a woman. “Yes, and you are Dr. Baille, I presume.”

“Guilty, Counsellor.” His face was lit with a mischievous smile that showed his bright teeth.

Tessa was momentarily taken aback. She had given no information about herself when she had called to make the appointment. “Have we already met before, Doctor? Or did you do some research on me?”

“Both and neither.” The smile widened a little. “I consulted your father about a year ago concerning, um, something historical. There was a large framed photograph of his family on his office wall so I remembered that Dr. Beardon had a daughter. I had my wife do a quick bit of research and learned that Dr. Beardon’s daughter, Contessa, is a lawyer with Hamilton, Steiner and Barr.” Dr. Baille held his office door wide and gestured for Tessa to enter.

“Please, call me Tessa.”

The office was much smaller than Tessa expected. The opposite wall was nearly filled by a window overlooking the river. Sitting to the left just beyond the open edge of the door was a rocker-recliner. To the right of the window was a small desk with an open laptop computer and a couple of file folders stacked neatly and secured by a comical gargoyle. Behind the desk was a bank of filing cabinets topped by a small jungle of houseplants. Another recliner and a couple of folded chairs filled the area just to the right of the door opening.

“Not fond of your full name?” queried the doctor.

“Not really, it’s always seemed too stiff and formal for me.’

The doctor stood in the center of the room and waited for Tessa to pick a seat. She wondered if this was one of his psychologist tricks or if he thought it made people more comfortable to choose their own place in the room. She wondered what his reaction would be if she decided to sit behind his desk. Probably would make her out as the rebellious sort if she did. She chose the first recliner she had seen. The leather squeaked a little as she settled into it. Dr. Baille chose the other one.

Tessa reached into the briefcase she had brought with her and pulled out Sari’s book. “I’m not sure what I believe about this,” she started. “What is your take on it all?”

The two of them then spent her first visit discussing the concept of past lives and reincarnation. Dr. Baille explained the hypnosis process thoroughly and even did a little experimental session to ensure she could go into a trance. He showed Tessa how he recorded the session and let her listen to what they had done before erasing it completely. The two talked a little longer and Tessa left just over an hour after she had arrived.

Over the next twelve weeks, Tessa arrived at the small office in an old building just west of the downtown area every Friday mid-afternoon. She never waited more than five minutes before Dr. Baille opened the door to allow her entrance to the Inner Sanctum as Tessa had named it. She always felt as if she was entering a safe, comfortable refuge much the same as being in her mother’s kitchen. They would chat a little about her week and then go right into the session. Forty to fifty minutes later, Tessa would awaken, feeling as if she had just taken a sorely needed nap. Dr. Baille never revealed what they discussed during the sessions, suggesting that she wait until they had reached an end. This last Friday meeting they had not done a session at all. Dr. Baille had talked about how regressive hypnosis sometimes caused strange dreams to occur as ancient memories forced their way into the consciousness. He reminded her that he would be available anytime she needed to discuss any of it further. Night or day, he had insisted, although Tessa could not imagine phoning him in the middle of the night for any reason.

            Just minutes before her strange encounter with Craig Biggins, Baille had given her a small shoebox filled with tapes. “Don’t try to listen to them all at once,” had been Dr. Baille’s advice. “Listen to them in the order I have them numbered. They go from your first regression to last week’s. When you’re ready to do deeper exploration of any of them, just give me a call.”

            Tessa wanted to race home and immediately pop the first one into her stereo so she could hear it alone. However, by the time she could get to the gym to meet Tori and they had eaten dinner, she would be arriving at the apartment at about the same time as Daniel. Tessa felt like a child with a new Christmas toy who has to attend church mass first.