Retrospection

By S. L. Wallace

After a terrible accident, Claire wakes up in the hospital. Not being able to remember the recent events that led to her accident is disturbing enough but to discover a stranger in her room who only she can see and hear is even worse. Jhidhai can relate. Typically, humans cannot see or hear him, but Claire can do even more. Unraveling Jhidhai's secrets will take Claire on a journey through both time and space. And Claire's secrets from herself will lead her toward a destination she could never have imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. L. Wallace
• Release date: Aug 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301121472

S. L. Wallace

S.L. Wallace is a teacher and life long writer who is a descendant of the famous William Wallace. Like him, she believes in freedom and independence. Unlike him, she fights her battles with the pen, most recently taking a political stand against recent changes in government at both local and state levels.

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Retrospection

S.L. Wallace

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Sarah Yoho

First electronic edition: July 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, or stored in a database or retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover art created by Dan Peyton.

Published by S. L. Wallace at Smashwords

ISBN: 9781301121472

For my Grandma Gert, who always loved the strange and unexplained.

And for Monet, because history is about so much more than names, dates and wars.

Also, a great big thank you to Edward Foster for writing the fire and brimstone sermon.

Thank you to my beta reading team: Kerstin Broockmann, Desiree DeOrto, Edward Foster, Mathieu Gallant, Troy McCombs, Cody Martin, Sarah Miles, Hannah Polashek, Matt Posner and R.K. Ryals. This story wouldn’t be what it is today without your insightful comments and editorial support.

Table of Contents

Waking Up

D-Day Invasion

Who Are You?

An Exorcism

Regrets

Witch Trial

Regaining Memories

Little Girl Lost

Answers

The Peshtigo Fire

A Mentor

Pequot Nation

The Beginning

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

Waking Up

Chicago, Illinois

June 14, 2001

The girl blinked and pushed herself up onto her elbows. The stark white sheet slid to her waist, revealing a blue hospital gown. Her eyes sported bruises, and cuts marred her pale face. Long red hair hung limply from beneath a head bandage.

Who…are you? she asked.

At the unexpected, raspy sound of her voice, the man turned from the rain-spattered window and stared. Hazy, gray daylight silhouetted his lean figure and obscured his face in shadow. He wore dark dress pants and a formal white shirt.

You can see me, Claire? he asked.

The girl shifted a bit. The gentle beep of the heart monitor continued, and the hum of filtered air flowed through vents high in the wall. Next to the bed was a stand with a vase of colorful tulips. A yellow scarf had been bunched around the vase, and a small brown teddy bear with a bright turquoise bow around its neck had fallen onto its side.

Um, yeah... Where am I?

She licked her cracked lips and looked around, but the man worked his magic. Claire saw only a comfortable room with soothing wallpaper. A painting of the Emerald City from The Wizard of Oz hung on one wall.

It's so cold. What is this place? The beeping from the heart monitor increased.

Quickly, the stranger sifted through the girl’s memories and projected one to calm her before stepping away from the window. As he drew near, the girl realized he was younger than she'd initially thought, perhaps 20, not much older than herself.

I'm sorry. You look familiar, but I don't remember your name. Do we have classes together?

He shook his head and smiled. Jhidhai. You said you were cold. Would you like to go for a walk? I think it's warmer outside. Jhidhai offered his hand, palm up.

But it’s raining.

Not so much. I think it’s clearing up.

Claire looked out the window at the ominous gray clouds, their bellies full of water. Jhidhai?

My name.

Hesitantly, Claire reached for his hand. Jhidhai pulled her upright while she tilted her head and looked into his warm brown eyes. You don't look Asian.

I'm not. He tugged her hand, and Claire followed him out of the room.

Because of the veil Jhidhai had created, Claire did not see the doctor approach the bed to check on his patient nor the pleased expression on his face. The monitors showed that her vitals were strong. As the physical Claire slept soundly, recuperating in peace, the real Claire left the room with Jhidhai.

They walked down a corridor with serene paintings on the walls, stopping when they reached a glowing red exit sign. Jhidhai dropped the girl’s hand and pushed against the heavy door. He held it open for her, but Claire stopped and stared at the yellow and black lines on the metal bar across the door and at the sign proclaiming 'emergency exit.’ Instead of an alarm, she heard laughter, happy voices and the cries of gulls searching for a mid-day meal. Instead of rain, she heard waves washing upon the shore. Curiously, she peered through the open doorway and then stepped through.

Claire smiled and rubbed her bare arms. Her bright green tank top brought her shining eyes to life and contrasted nicely with her long red hair, now pulled up into a high ponytail. The head bandage had vanished. Jhidhai, now wearing a baggy pair of bright red shorts and a plain white t-shirt, spread out a large towel in the middle of the crowded beach, and side-by-side, they sat upon it. The warmth of the sand seeped through from beneath.

That's much better. Thank you. Claire drew in a deep breath, then released it as she relaxed her shoulders. What a beautiful day!

As on most warm summer days, the fine white sand of North Avenue Beach was covered by beach towels, folding chairs and golden bodies tanning in the sun.

Claire giggled and pointed at a man who was tossing his little boy into an oncoming wave. My dad used to do that with me.

You want to join them? We could go swimming.

Uh, maybe later. I'm a little sore right now. I don't think swimming is the best idea. Claire rubbed her right shoulder.

May I? Jhidhai gently placed his hand upon the back of her neck.

Claire nodded and turned. Weren't you wearing a business suit? You know, back there... She glanced to her right. Instead of a building, she saw a row of familiar volleyball nets with games in full swing.

Was I?

Jhidhai gently slid his palm across the girl's shoulder, and Claire felt an unexpected warmth seep into the sore muscles. She tilted her head from one side to the other.

That's much better. Thank you. Well, you look good in casual too. More relaxed.

Relaxed, huh? Jhidhai rested his arms upon his knees and squinted as he watched the incoming waves wash upon the shore.

She laughed, Did I stutter?

For a few minutes, they both sat, lost in thought, staring at the water. Jhidhai knew they shouldn’t be having this conversation. In fact, Claire shouldn’t be able to see him at all, but despite his surprise and confusion, Jhidhai discovered he was looking forward to getting to know this one. Meanwhile, it occurred to Claire that she couldn’t remember anything from the past few days.

Finally, Claire broke the silence. Jhidhai. That sounds Japanese, but you said you aren't.

That's right.

So...

He avoided eye contact. So, what?

So how did you end up with a name like that? Are your parents into manga or something?

No, I chose it myself.

Oh, like a nickname. Claire hesitated. Now what?

Um, I'm afraid you've lost me again. Jhidhai laughed nervously.

Claire was not looking at the beach, or the waves, or the people, or the clear blue skies. She stared intently at Jhidhai. Come on. Give it to me straight.

Jhidhai finally turned and peered into her eyes. The last time something even remotely close to this had happened, it hadn’t turned out well. He shook his head, and long black hair fell loosely over his eyes.

But Claire persisted. None of this makes sense. Your clothes, the beach, this over-sized towel, you... I'm dead. That's what you don't want to tell me, isn't it?

Jhidhai drew in a sharp breath. "No, you're not