Finally, I was able to pull my hand from the pillow. My heart was racing, and sweat beaded on my forehead. I tried to control my panic, but was still having trouble breathing. As I worked to control myself, a strange vision came over me. An image of my mother’s eyes, not the eyes of the woman who’d raised me, but the eyes of a woman enraged.
“It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry. Follow your dreams wherever they may take you. I’ll always be by your side. Au revoir, ma chérie.” Her hand left my cheek, and the two walked off into the darkness together.
I slammed my drink back and set the glass in front of Blake before walking past him. Never taking my eyes off the statuette, I grabbed the bottle of bourbon off the bar. I took a healthy swig, wiping my mouth with the back of my opposite hand, still fixated on the dancing couple.
As Blake unlocked the inside doors, something began to stir in my soul. I felt a heaviness in the air. I felt sadness, pain, and heartache. My hands began to shake as the urge to cry fought with the urge to scream. I stopped just short of the threshold, fearing what I felt beyond.
I began to panic when I realized that I couldn’t read the guy across from me. I couldn’t sense the emotions of those around me. I couldn’t read the aura of the attendant at the front of the plane. What the hell was going on? You don’t realize all the things you can do until you can’t do them.
“Whoa there, cowboy,” I said, cutting him off before he could finish his thought. “This is a business deal only. I don’t need to be wined and dined, and I’m sure as hell not coming to New Orleans looking for love.
As I watched, I noticed the people inside. I wanted to walk closer, but I couldn’t move. I strained my eyes to see through the window, noticing an older woman and a young girl. As I stared in their direction, the older woman jerked her head around and looked directly at me. The shock brought me quickly back to reality.
“Mom, I can’t explain it, but this is something I’ve got to do. I know it sounds weird, but I feel as though Grandma’s taking me home.” I waited for my mother’s usual guffaw, but it never came.
“Cherish, there is something else you need to know. Something about your grandmother. Something I wasn’t supposed to know.” My curiosity instantly peaked.
One of the bankbooks was for the bank I was standing in, but the other was for a bank in New Orleans. Why the hell would my grandmother have a bank account some 1,700 miles from home? I opened both books and nearly fell to the floor. Even with just a quick scan, I could tell that there were more zeros than I’d ever seen in my life.
The darkened room came alive in vivid colors. I had a hard time focusing on any one thing, but within moments, I could see things that shouldn’t be there. I looked back at the photograph of my grandparents and felt myself pulled into a vision. I saw an old storefront. In the window, I saw the words Whispers of the Past. I could smell salt air and moss, and I could hear the sounds of trumpets in the distance.