The MacGuffin - Chapter 3

introducing Dr. Baille

 

“Get comfortable in your chair and allow your breathing to settle into a slow pattern. Feel the air flow past your nostrils and down into your lungs. As the air flows in, feel a sense of joy and peace enter you. Now feel the release of the air leaving your lungs and your body. And as it flows out, also feel the release of all your worries and concerns.    Breathe in relaxation.    Breathe out tension.    Breathe in relaxation.   Breathe out tension.   Your body is now becoming completely relaxed as your breathing continues to clear the channels of memory.    Breathe in relaxation.    Breathe out tension.    I will slowly count to ten and you will sink further into pure relaxation allowing your mind to flow past time and space.”

Tessa smiled to herself as she listened to her breathing deepen even more on the tape. No wonder she felt so refreshed when she woke from the sessions. She glanced quickly at the wall clock to note it was well after midnight. Daniel had wanted to cuddle and talk more so than usual tonight. He had finally fallen asleep about a half hour ago so she had slipped out of bed to listen to this first tape. Tessa was tempted to jump ahead to the good part but was afraid she would just waste time trying to find where it started. She listened on as Dr. Baille’s voice coaxed her to find earlier and even earlier moments of her life.  Her present life. She would have to ask her mother about a couple of “memories” she had recounted onto the tape. Finally the important question arrived and Tessa sat up straighter to listen to her answer.

“Reach back further into your memory. Do you recall a time before you were born from the body of Agatha Beardon? Can you remember when your name was not Tessa?”

The hiss of unused tape was aggravating as Tessa waited for the response. When the reply came more than a minute later, Tessa did not hear her own voice. The intonation and speech pattern reminded her of an actress in a Sean O’Casey play. What kind of deceit was Baille pulling? Had she simply fallen asleep and some other woman was inserted to make up some story? That explained why the man never talked about their sessions or let her listen to the tapes right away. Tessa heard Dr. Baille ask for a name and perked up to listen. She was curious to see what name the actress would choose.

“Tessie MacBrady, sirrah.”

Tessa sat shock still as Dr. Baille thanked the young woman and asked to meet with her another day. Tessa barely heard him start the sequence to bring her out of her trance. The words still rang in her mind. “Tessie MacBrady.” She became aware of the hairs on the backs of her arms standing at full attention as Dr. Baille’s voice on the tape demanded she awaken refreshed. “Tessie MacBrady.” Tessa glanced at the wall clock. She would have to wait at least six hours before she could talk to her mother. It was going to be a long six hours because Tessa was certain she would not sleep tonight.

 

As Tessa turned the corner to pull into the long cul-de-sac, she got that same indescribable sensation that always came as she neared her childhood home. The driveway appeared between the twin rose trellises. It ran straight for the two-car garage but at the last minute curved around the willow tree and set course for the roadway again. This time, it passed a single rose trellis on the inner edge. Peter Beardon had built each of the trellises during the last month of his wife’s pregnancies. Tessa’s car slid past the red and yellow roses now coming into bloom. She glanced over at the other end of the driveway but as usual her roses were late bloomers. She scanned the windows of the second floor for any sign that her parents were awake and nearly drove into Hunter’s little sports car. What was her oldest brother doing here this early? And why of all mornings did he have to be here when she needed to talk to her mother alone? Well, if Hunter was already here then the best place to look for her mother was in the kitchen.

It felt so homey to walk away from the front door, across the manicured lawn, through the wooden gate at the side of the house, and around to the sliding door that separated the patio from the hub of the Beardon homestead. Agatha Beardon was first and foremost a homemaker. She loved to care for her family and never complained when they dropped in unexpectedly but rather, went into high gear preparing a healthy meal. Of course it helped that she worked on most of her programming projects at home. Sure enough, the smell of bacon teased Tessa’s nostrils before she reached the patio entrance to the kitchen. She also heard her mother humming a sprightly tune as she bustled about the kitchen.

“Are you making enough for yet another mooching child?” Tessa asked as she stepped into her mother’s realm.

“Tessa! What on earth are you doing up and out so early? Where’s Daniel? Parking the car or coming in the front?” Agatha pulled her only daughter into a hug. “Everything okay?”

“Just me,” Tessa muffled into her mother’s shoulder. Before she could say more another voice shattered the moment.

“Well, well, MacBrady. To what do we owe a royal visit?”

Tessa took a deep breath and did a slow count as she turned toward her brother. “Hunter. I see your wife pushed you out of bed early.” Tessa received a small jab in the back for her barb.

“Hunter came by to borrow my lawn mower but your mom insisted on breakfast first.” Peter Beardon stepped in behind his oldest son and held his arms out to his daughter. Tessa crossed the kitchen and enjoyed the strong squeeze of her father’s arms. She breathed in the aroma of spice from his collar. “What do you need to borrow?” he jokingly asked.

“Mom’s memory.” Tessa looked back at her mother and mentally pleaded for some help. To avoid questions, she quickly added, “But I’ll take a Beardon breakfast anytime. Mmm. Something smells heavenly. Are you making Benedicts?”

Agatha beamed with pride but humbly shrugged, “I had some Hollandaise leftover from a dinner two nights ago. No big thing.” She had joined the other three at the doorway to the hall which led toward the formal dining room and Peter’s sizeable office.

Tessa linked arms with her mother and turned back toward the stove. She spoke over her shoulder as she led her mother away from the two men. “You two go enjoy your morning brew while Mom and I cook.”

Typical of Hunter to not let an opportunity pass. “You? Cook? Egads, Dad, want to go to the corner bakery instead?”

Agatha whirled back to her son. “Out, both of you! I’ll call you when we’re ready.” The men scooted back down the hall toward the front office without further comment. Tessa heard something about bearings in the conversation that resumed between the men.

“Okay, Missy, spill.”

“Do you want to make the eggs first? We can talk later.”

“The eggs can wait. Hunter needs more than to borrow a lawn mower but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Tessa thought about all the conversation openers that had run through her mind in the last six and a half hours. “Mom, why does Hunter call me MacBrady?”

“Contessa Louise, you know the answer to that! Quit stalling. Is there something wrong between you and Daniel?”

“No, seriously, Mom. Tell me the whole story again.”

Agatha eyed her daughter carefully. Something in what she saw, cut off further questions. She reached for a mug out of the cupboard, filled it with coffee and handed it to Tessa while indicating that they should sit at the small eat-in table. It often doubled as extra prep space so Tessa had to push aside a loaf of bread and the butter dish. She watched her mother turn off the griddle and drain off the bacon grease. She waited until her mother had brought her own mug of English Breakfast tea to the table.

“I’ve been working on an unusual project lately and the name MacBrady came up.”  Not really a lie, Tessa thought to herself.

“Okay, well, a few months after your third birthday, your dad came home with a frilly dress he had spied in a shop. He couldn’t wait to see you in it. You trotted back down the stairs after I helped you into it. Your father greeted you like a princess.” Agatha stopped to give Tessa a knowing grin. Tessa had gotten her name after an exchange between her parents shortly after her arrival into the world. Peter had declared her his little princess and Agatha, being a practical women, had promptly named her Contessa saying that countesses were more accountable and responsible than princesses.

“Anyway,” Agatha continued. “You took your little hand out of his and loudly stated that you were no lady, just Tessie MacBrady.’

Tessa shivered as a chill ran through her. Agatha reached across and laid her hand over her daughter’s. “What is it?”

“Mom, do you believe in reincarnation?”

Agatha searched Tessa’s face and then turned her gaze inward before answering. “Reincarnation. Hmm. You know me. I never say yea or nay to something until I can prove it one way or the other. I do like the notion that we are given the chance to improve on our efforts here but, believe in it?” Agatha shrugged, leaving the answer to hang on its own merit.

Tessa took a deep breath. “A couple months ago I read a book about reincarnation and remembering past lives. I decided to check it out. Last night I listened to the first tape of the sessions I underwent.”

Agatha, not usually one to interject or interrupt, held up a hand. “What do you mean by ‘underwent’?”

Tessa felt sheepish admitting to her mother that she had been to see a psychologist. “I went for hypnosis.” Sounds of a male conversation drifted into the kitchen. “Mom, can we feed them and send them off to fix Hunter’s mower and marriage. Please?”

Breakfast preparations did not take long since Agatha had been mostly ready when Tessa arrived. The conversation around the kitchen table was stilted, keeping to safe conversations like the weather and plans for Hunter’s daughters over the summer.

“Their mother stuck them in some day camp for most of the summer. She said they’d be learning to be future camp counsellors. Idiocy. It’s basicly a make-work project, if you ask me.”

Tessa bit back her urge to correct Hunter’s grammar. It grated on her ears to hear ‘basicly” instead of ‘basically’. But she knew better than to say anything derogatory to him.

Peter Beardon turned to his daughter and attempted to change the subject. “So, does Daniel have any interesting transactions going on right now?”

Hunter continued his tirade. “I mean, think about it. If they don’t convince people to send their kids to day camp, then there’s no need for counsellors. Am I right, or am I right?”

Tessa ignored her older brother despite her desire to give him a lecture on developing leadership skills in young people. “Actually, Dad, I’m not wholly certain. There is some big secret deal happening. He’s gone almost every evening until way late.”

Hunter guffawed. “Maybe he’s having an affair, and you’re too stupid to notice.”

Their mother was about to say something but Tessa rested her hand on her mother’s arm. “And you just proved how little you know Daniel, Hunter. Maybe if you came down off that pedestal you put yourself on, you might actually get to know the people around you.”

“Contessa Louise!”

“I’m sorry, Mom, but he started it.”

Hunter spat out the beginning of a retort, but snapped his mouth closed upon noticing the scowl on their mother’s face being directed at both of her children. Their father’s disappointment radiated across the table. Agatha stood and silently began collecting dishes.

“Here, let me help you, Mom.” Tessa jumped up and collected the condiments to return to the fridge.

Hunter stood as well. “We should go see about finding that part, Dad,” he mumbled.

Sometime later, mother and daughter were back sitting at the kitchen table with fresh beverages finally alone in the large house. Tessa had already fielded a phone call on her cell from Daniel wondering why she had gone out without waking him. She had mollified him with a promise of being home soon to spend the whole day playing golf together.

“Okay, back to the hypnosis story,” prompted Agatha.

Tessa told the whole story up to the previous night’s strange revelation. “I brought the first tape with me. Which reminds me, as Dr. Baille was regressing me through this lifetime, I mentioned falling off my bike and being hit by a car. Did that happen or is all of that just my imagination playing games with me?”

Agatha laughed. “You weren’t hit by the car. You hit it. But then from a child’s point of view, it might have seemed the other way around. You had just learned how to ride a bike and were venturing out on your own for the first time. Even though you had training wheels, you were still a little unsteady. Your dad thought you’d be okay to ride to the corner and back. Mr. Welch recognized you were having troubles as he drove around the corner and came to a complete halt. You, on the other hand, ran headlong into him. It was a source of amusement for him until Alzheimer’s stole his memories.”

Tessa thought fondly of the elderly neighbor who had been like a grandfather to her and her brothers as they grew up. She could easily imagine the kindly Englishman sitting horrified as she smashed into him.  He would have undoubtedly been upset since he could never stand to see any of them hurt. The memory of the old gentleman nearly crying as he held ice to a bump on Spencer’s forehead came rushing back. That had been yet another time when Hunter had tried to teach his younger brother how much better he was. So, the bike-and-car accident was a true memory then.

“Okay, another one that I recounted to the doctor that I have no way of verifying …” Agatha nodded for Tessa to continue. “What was my favorite toy as an infant?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Agatha smiled at a distant memory. “My sister, Ruth, mailed you a plastic giraffe when you were born. For some reason you chewed on its neck whenever you were teething. No teething ring or pain-relieving gel would do; you had to have GaGaff.”

Tessa laughed outrageously, partly at the absurdity of herself as a child and partly from the relief of having another story verified. Her answer to Dr. Baille’s question had sounded like “ga-ga”, making it seem as if she had simply been copying the stereotypical baby response to any stimulus. More and more it appeared that she had really been recalling true incidents. So was the likelihood of a previous life with the name of Tessie MacBrady equally possible?

“Just out of curiosity, did you and Dad ever call me by my full name? Other than when I was in trouble?”

“I had no intention of ever allowing your name to be shortened. I was worried you’d end up with something inane like Conta, or Connie.”

“I rather like Connie,” Tessa teased. “It has a certain ring to it.” She knew full well that her mother had not meant what she had said, despite how it sounded. Agatha was simply one to prefer full names. Her mother had been quite upset when Spencer’s friends dropped the final R in his name. Heaven help anyone who had ever tried to call her Aggie. Tessa got a mock glare for her effort at levity. “So when did I become Tessa instead of Contessa?”

“Right after the MacBrady incident. Your brothers took to chanting Tessie MacBrady at you. The Tessie part grated on my ears so I made them switch to Tessa. You seemed quite happy with the change.”

“You know, strangely enough, Hunter calling me MacBrady never seemed wrong so much as it sounded like a slur coming from him.” Agatha made a noncommittal response so Tessa changed the subject. “So, do you think it is possible to have residual memories from previous lives if reincarnation is a fact?”

“Always the lawyer,” Agatha said with pride. “Given the potential truth of an unknown, anything is possible and to state otherwise is hubris. But let’s go research what others have said on the subject.” She was instantly on her feet and heading down the hallway toward the front door.

Tessa laughed at her disappearing mother. “Wait for me before you get too deep into your research,” she scolded. Agatha could lose whole days once she started doing research.

Tessa followed down the corridor and swung onto the stairs leading up to the second floor. Holding onto the oak railing brought back so many childhood memories in a comfortable blend of nostalgia and hominess. The upper floor held three bedrooms, two quite large and one slightly smaller. The small one directly over the kitchen had been Tessa’s bedroom, now her mother’s office. At the opposite end of the upper hall was her parents’ suite. Her brothers’ old room was now a guest room. The bathroom that separated guest room and Agatha’s office was rarely used so Tessa was surprised to see a towel hanging over the end of the door. Agatha peeked back out of her office to see what was keeping Tessa and noted the question on Tessa’s face.

“Hunter slept here last night, if you must know.”

Tessa shrugged. The state of Hunter and Sandra’s marriage was none of her business. Right now she was more interested in what her mother would discover about past life recall. Why hadn’t she thought to do this research herself before this? Tessa shrugged again and stepped into Agatha’s second domain. One computer was already humming into wakefulness as Agatha reached around a second one to start it. Tessa noted that the laptop was sitting atop a large pile of folders. Obviously her mother was involved in another huge project.

“Mom, I can do the research myself if you have work to do.”

“Nonsense. You’ve piqued my curiosity. Let’s see what the online encyclopedias have to say first.”

With mother at one computer and daughter at the other, the two women were soon engaged in comparing their findings. Some reports took a completely non-biased stance, explaining the commonly held opinions. Most of the others took a clear point of view. Ancient religious texts stated that the soul carries the imprint of past life experiences and works to atone or repeat those experiences in its progression toward perfection. In those practices, “reverse birthing” was a way to remind one of past debts yet to be repaid. This echoed the sentiments of Sari’s book. The author even suggested that a common thread could be found among remembered lifetimes, which in turn, was important for the present lifespan.

On the other side of the question were those who insisted that recounted past-life memories were a combination of plagiarism from stories or movies one had encountered, and imposed desires. Many of these cited studies where the expectations of the researchers had more impact on the results than anything else or where the memories did not match historical records. One reported that a test subject, claiming to be a Second World War pilot, could not even name the major world leaders of the day. Tessa still felt as if she sat at the fulcrum of a child’s seesaw.

“So, where to now?” Agatha asked, ready to do more research.

“I think we’ve done enough,” Tessa replied. “I’m thinking I should keep an open mind until I’ve listened to all of the tapes.”

“In other words, the jury is still out?” Agatha chuckled.

Tessa laughed and hugged her mother. The two visited a little longer before Tessa headed back to keep her promise to Daniel. It would be several days before she had the opportunity to listen to the next tape.