An Unexpected Journey: The Story of Alexander Kingston

By Alaina Rae

Alexander Kingston, a handsome young bartender in Reno, Nevada, wakes up in the middle of the night with a lump on his head and a killer headache. His wife is gone, and the bedside lamp is lying broken on the floor. To his horror, he discovers that his recurring nightmare escalated into real-life violence that nearly killed his wife while he was sleeping.

Alex seeks help from his friend, Marco, a theatrical stage hypnotist, to see if hypnosis might help him stop the terrifying dreams. Imagine their surprise when deep in the hypnotic trance, Alex jumps back in time to a previous lifetime in Mexico in the year 1874, where the events he saw in his dreams took place.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Oct 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781452523415

Alaina Rae

Alaina Rae, a spiritual seeker and hopeless romantic, believes that souls journey together through time in search of enlightenment. Their never-ending love, yet heartbreaking drama, is the inspiration behind her new series, Remembering. Alaina lives in Bend, Oregon, where she is close to her family and a vibrant spiritual community where her own search for truth and enlightenment never ends.

Book preview

An Unexpected

Journey

The Story of Alexander Kingston

Alaina Rae

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Copyright © 2014 Alaina Rae.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4525-2340-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-2341-5 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 10/17/2014

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Dedication

This book is lovingly dedicated to my daughter, Christine Webb,

who has weathered every storm with me on this crazy journey we call life.

Chapter 1

Outside Mexico City – 1874

Diego Hacienda

Margarita screamed as the back of Don Diego’s hand hit the side of her face knocking her backwards against the festive dining room table that had been meticulously set for the fiesta. Glasses and plates sailed across the room, crashing and breaking against the polished tile floor. She managed to right herself just in time for the second blow; this one sending her sprawling to the floor to land among the chards of broken dishes. Ignoring the cuts on her arms and hands, she tried in vain to crawl away from the booted foot of her attacker, but there was no escaping his wrath. He leaped upon her and the hands that had caressed her so gently only that morning circled her throat in a death grip. Her last thought before the blackness engulfed her was one of self-recrimination that she had not as yet told him of the child that was growing within her.

The Kingston Farm

Sweet Home, Oregon – 1979

Buddy pulled the soft sheepskin collar tighter around his neck to ward off the early morning chill. The orange glow on the horizon signaled the coming of dawn across the fertile Oregon farmland. He studied the changing sky for several minutes watching the midnight blue fade quickly into the pale blue of early morning. The absence of clouds meant they would be planting the newly plowed fields this morning and he was anxious to get started.

He leaned on the railing of the back porch and listened to the sounds of a new day. The roosters crowed their morning symphony, intently fulfilling their job of waking every living creature within hearing range. Horses stomped their feet and snorted loudly over the fence posts waiting eagerly for their morning oats, and somewhere in the distance, a pack of dogs barked savagely at the unsuspecting prey that had accidentally crossed their paths.

Buddy closed his eyes and shuddered, remembering the nightmare that had awakened him that morning. He could still see long black hair flying across a terrified woman’s face and strong male hands around her delicate neck as he choked the life out of her. Buddy always woke up before the dream ended but it didn’t matter. He felt it in the middle of his gut that the woman in his dream was dead and that he had witnessed the murder of a very beautiful young woman by a man whose face he did not recognize.

Buddy had had the same nightmare over and over again since he had been a small boy. It was as if he was actually present in that strange place where bright, primary colors glistened on a huge wooden table set to perfection for a large party; a place where love and happiness should have been, but rage and violence prevailed.

When he was very young his mother would rush into his room at the sound of his screams and comfort him, but when he reached eight years of age, his father refused to let her go to him saying she was making him a sissy by coddling him. Upon hearing his father say that, shame overwhelmed him and he became determined to show his father that he was definitely not a sissy. He never mentioned the dream again to anyone and he suffered through his night terrors alone.

Here chicky, chicky. Here, chicky, chicky. Chaos erupted as the chickens fought for the food Buddy’s little brother scattered on the ground. The roosters stopped crowing and charged Cody, fighting for the first chance at the chicken feed.

Jeeesus, you sons a bitches, he screeched, get the hell outta here.

The noisy interruption shook Buddy out of his gloomy reverie. Glad for the reprieve, he went in search of his little brother. He rounded the corner of the barn just in time to see Cody kicking at the charging roosters. He laughed at the sight of the skinny 14-year-old boy in combat with the feisty chickens. Cody wore a heavy nylon parka zipped to the top and a black stocking cap pulled low over his ears to ward off the brisk morning air. Instead of the cowboy boots he wore to school, he had stuffed his good Wrangler jeans into a pair of rubber goulashes to protect them from the attacking roosters.

Nice language. Pa better not hear you talkin’ like that. Buddy warned him, trying not to laugh. He walked over and stood outside of the flimsy wire fence surrounding the chicken coup.

Cody jumped at the sound of Buddy’s voice, but he relaxed when he saw the man behind the voice was his brother and not his father. I hate them damn roosters. One of these days, I’m gonna make me a nice rooster stew out of all of ‘em.

Cody, if you’re plannin’ on bein’ a farmer, you can’t be scared of a little old rooster. Buddy teased.

Shit, I ain’t scared of no damn rooster and besides, I don’t plan on bein’ a farmer neither.

Buddy smiled and nodded, That’s what I said too when I was your age, but as you can see, I’m a grown man and I’m still standin’ here laughin’ at your sorry ass being chased around by a couple of old roosters.

Cody’s sarcastic reply stuck in his throat at the sight of their father standing several yards beyond Buddy. Jed Kingston stood holding a bucket of oats over the top of the corral while his prized Appaloosa mare munched noisily on her morning treat. Both brothers watched in silence as the horse ate her fill and gave her master one last nudge before she snickered loudly and trotted off to return to the pasture that lay beyond the open corral gates.

Jed turned then and saw the boys standing by the chicken coop at the side of the barn. Don’t you boys have work to do? He barked. His deep frown left no doubt that he was displeased. His hot breath escaped his mouth and instantly froze turning into a wisp of white steam.

I’m done, sir. Cody answered quickly. He looked briefly at his father before looking down to his feet to avoid direct eye contact lest his father could read the fear he felt.

Then get in the house and get ready for school. Jed said harshly. He was dressed ready for work in a worse-for-wear replica of Buddy’s sheepskin coat with matching work gloves. His old Stetson cowboy hat had sat low on his head for so long it had become an extension of him. Hardened brown mud still clung to his boots from the day before. There wasn’t any use to clean it off. It would only get worse until the sun could dry out the freshly turned fields and then the mud would just fall off naturally during the course of the work day.

Cody turned on his heels and headed for the house while Buddy stood staring at his father waiting for his instructions for the day.

Take the truck into town and pick up a load of seed. Harry’s got my order and he’s expectin’ you first thing this mornin’.

Yes, sir, Buddy said. Without another word, Buddy turned around and headed for the pickup truck parked around the other side of the barn. The less time he had to spend with his father the better as far as he was concerned.

Jed yelled after him, And no messin’ around in town, ya hear? The north field is ready to plant as soon as you get back.

Buddy mumbled a few choice words under his breath as he hopped in the truck and turned the key. The engine sputtered and groaned several times before finally turning over and roaring to life. He reached over and turned on the radio. Waylon Jennings was singing about a good-hearted woman who was in love with a good-timin’ man. It was one of Buddy’s favorite songs and he turned up the volume and sang along letting the music chase away the tension he felt every time he had to be around his father. By the time he reached town, he had sung along to Waylon, Willie, and Hank Jr. and he was ready for whatever the day might bring.

Buddy pulled up to the loading dock at the feed store and turned off the truck. Two young men were standing beside a palette of seed bags waiting for Buddy to arrive. They immediately began loading the bags into the back of the truck. Buddy jumped up on the dock to help them when an older man came out of the store to greet him. Harry Winston was the father of Buddy’s high school sweetheart and the man Buddy expected would be his father-in-law in a couple of months after Becky finally graduated from college and came home for good.

Hey, Buddy. How’s it goin’? He grabbed Buddy’s hand and shook it vigorously. Let’s go over to the diner and get some breakfast. He gathered his coat tighter around his huge belly and flashed Buddy his Santa Clause smile, white beard and all.

Can’t today. Pa said to get right back. We gotta get the north field planted before sunset.

Hell, we’ll be done eatin’ before those boys have your truck loaded. Harry hooked his arm with Buddy’s arm and practically dragged him across the street to Millie’s Diner. Come on, it’s been too long since we’ve had a visit.

Once they were seated, Millie appeared out of nowhere with two cups of steaming coffee and two menus tucked under her arm. She wore a bright pink nylon waitress uniform with white trim and white embroidered letters that spelled Millie above her right breast. Millie’s Diner was the only restaurant in Sweet Home that the farmers patronized and she knew the scoop on everyone and everything that went on in her little part of the world. Now, seeing Buddy again, she realized that she didn’t have a clue what Buddy had been up to all winter and her curiosity was getting the best of her.

Hey, Buddy. Where have you been? Millie asked cheerfully. We haven’t seen you around here in ages.

We had a bunch of repair work to do this winter so I haven’t been around much. Buddy smiled and Millie melted a little bit just like all the females from birth to ninety did when Buddy smiled at them.

Well, don’t be such a stranger, Millie said with a wink and a broad grin. What can I get you fellas?

Millie took their breakfast order and left the two men alone. Buddy watched curiously while Harry fussed with the cream and sugar he added to his coffee. Buddy wondered what that was about while he took a sip from his own steaming cup and lit a cigarette. He waited for Harry to speak first, expecting him to talk about the usual farming issues but instead the words that came out of his mouth shocked Buddy to the core.

Buddy, I’ve been meaning to call you to tell you how sorry I am that you and Becky broke up, but I guess I just kept hopin’ against hope that she would come to her senses and call us to tell us she had changed her mind about this new fella. Harry took one look at Buddy’s shocked face and he realized something wasn’t quite right.

What are you talking about? Buddy asked. His brows wrinkled in confusion while his mind tried to grasp the words he had just heard. Becky and I haven’t broken up.

Oh shit. You don’t know? Harry’s face paled nearly as white as his beard.

You old fart. Stop messin’ with me, Buddy said. He chuckled loudly realizing Harry must be joking as usual.

Harry looked across the table from the young man who had been like a son to him and his heart nearly broke. He certainly never meant to be the one to tell Buddy that his daughter had fallen in love with one of her classmates and that she was going to marry him and move out of the state. Harry knew that since he had opened his big mouth, he had to tell him that it was true and Becky was no longer his girl.

"Buddy, you know I wouldn’t joke about this. Becky is going to marry this fella and they are moving to Colorado where his folks live after graduation in June."

We’ll see about that. Buddy felt like his head exploded when it finally sunk in that Harry wasn’t joking with him. He was out of the booth and halfway out of the restaurant before Harry could even respond.

Millie arrived with two plates piled high with ham and eggs, hash-browns and freshly baked biscuits. Jeeze, where’s he going all fired up like that? She placed the plates on the table. Is he comin’ back to eat?

Might as well take it back to the kitchen and put it in a box, Millie. I don’t think he feels like eating just now. I’ll take it over to my boys to share.

Millie was dying to ask what had just happened but Harry held up a warning hand and she stopped herself. She would find out eventually but she sensed that now was not the time to push it. She went back to the kitchen to box up the food without saying another word.

Harry watched out the window as Buddy’s pickup tore out of the parking lot. Nearly half of his seed order was left sitting on the loading dock. The two boys stood there with their mouths open and a sack of seed still in their hands. Harry watched them shrug, drop the sacks and go back into the store.

Buddy pulled onto Highway 228 and stepped on the gas. Harry had to be wrong. Becky never said anything to him about breaking up and he’d be the first one she would tell. After all, they’d had an understanding ever since they were juniors in high school. Of course, they had both planned on going to college together but since Buddy’s accident prevented him from taking that football scholarship, Becky had gone off to college without him. But that hadn’t stopped them from loving each other and planning a future together as soon as she graduated.

His whole body shook from the fear that this could be true. He had noticed several changes in Becky over the last few months but he chose to believe her excuses. She used to write long love letters to him but he couldn’t remember the last time he found a perfumed envelope in the mailbox. When he called to ask her if she was coming home for the weekend she gave him one excuse after another for not being able to leave the campus. If Buddy felt a little hurt, she was sorry and she promised she would make it up to him when she was finally out of school.

Her lack of attention had bothered him, but he was doing his best to understand what she was going through. Wasn’t that what you did when you loved someone? He thought back to how much she seemed to love him in the years they had been a couple. Could Harry be mistaken about this? There was no possible way that after all these years of loving each other, Becky could turn her back on him and fall in love with someone else. He just didn’t believe it.

He reached Corvallis in record time. Cars lined the street in front of her apartment building leaving him no place to park which only added to his frustration. He drove around two blocks before he finally found a parking place big enough to accommodate his truck. He checked his watch. It was almost 8:30. Becky should be leaving for her nine o’clock class.

He thought briefly of the trouble he was going to be in when he got home, but he dismissed it, telling himself it didn’t matter. His father was going to have to understand that this was his future life that was at stake and that was more important than getting the seed into the ground this morning. He figured he would be back at the farm by noon and they could start planting then.

Buddy walked around the corner just in time to see Becky walk out the front door of the old apartment building and he froze. He almost didn’t recognize her. Gone was the familiar ponytail. She had cut her long hair to a length that barely touched her shoulders and instead of hanging straight and smooth like it always had before, it was styled in a mass of wild curls with a bright gold barrette holding one side away from her face. She looked so different; not at all like his Becky. She even walked differently. Her gait was smooth and graceful like a young woman instead of a bouncing high school cheerleader.

A car pulled up in front of the building and honked. Buddy watched in disbelief as Becky smiled and ran towards the car. The young man inside of the car reached over the seat and opened the door for her and she hopped inside. He reached for her and she kissed him boldly, their passion obvious even from where Buddy stood. His feet still couldn’t move as the scene played out before him. Finally when the kiss ended he snapped out of it and he ran towards the car, rage exploding inside him.

Before he could reach the car, it tore away from the curb, tires screeching and gravel flying. All Buddy saw was the horrified look in Becky’s eyes as she sped away from him and out of his life for good.

Chapter 2

Buddy dreaded what lay ahead for him. It was nearly 11:00 a.m. and he knew his dad expected the seed early this morning. During most of the drive home from Corvallis, all he thought of was Becky and her betrayal. Now, as he pulled into the driveway, he had to face the consequences of his rash behavior in deciding to drive to Corvallis to confront her and her new lover.

There was no doubt about it. His father was going to be furious and Buddy knew what that meant. He chided himself that his own fury had blocked all common sense and he did not even think to stop and call home to explain the situation to his folks. That was a big mistake and his heart raced thinking of the consequences to come.

He parked the truck in front of the barn and headed for the house. It would be better to check things out with his mother first to see what he had to deal with when he saw his father.

Good Lord, son, where have you been? Dottie said, meeting him on the porch. I’ve been crazy with worry and your pa is madder than I’ve ever seen him. You know he needed that seed first thing this morning.

I went to Corvallis to see Becky, ma.

Becky! What on earth for?

Harry told me first thing that Becky dumped me for someone else, Buddy choked on the words. Ma, she’s marrying the guy.

No! I can’t believe that. Why would she do something like that and not even tell you? Dottie was stunned. She thought of the pretty young girl that had spent so many hours at their house. Becky had become the daughter she never had. How could she do this terrible thing? Dottie pulled Buddy into her arms and held him as both of them struggled to keep their tears at bay. Finally, she released him and got back to the serious problem at hand. I’m sorry to hear that, son, but it was crazy for you to go off like that. We can talk about it later, but right now we have to worry about what your pa is going to do to you if he finds you before he has a chance to cool down.

Get in the house, Dottie. Jed’s cold eyes stared past her to his son.

Dottie jumped at the sound of her husband’s menacing voice. It was too late for them to do anything but face him. She moved slowly putting herself between father and son. I’m not going anywhere and if you plan on layin’ one hand on this boy, you’re going to have to go through me first.

No problem. In one swift movement Jed reached her.

Dottie screamed as she fell. If you touch that boy I’ll kill you myself! She struggled to get up to get between them again but she wasn’t fast enough.

When Buddy saw his mother fall in front of him, he lost every ounce of self-control he had left and he exploded inside. For the first time in his life, Buddy was not going to back down. He jumped over his mother and charged at Jed with a devil’s fury he didn’t know he possessed.

Buddy threw the first good punch that landed underneath Jed’s right jaw sending him flying to the bottom of the porch stairs. Buddy followed him down the stairs. Jed jumped up just in time to lift his arm to cover his face from the second punch Buddy threw. They both regained their balance and squared off to fight. For several minutes father and son fought each other as if they were mortal enemies.

Dottie’s screams brought Cody running out of the house. He ran to his mother and held onto her to keep her from getting in the middle of the fight. The two of them huddled together and watched helplessly as the bloody battle played out in front of them.

Before long both men’s faces were cut and swollen. Jed landed a punch square in the middle of Buddy’s belly. Buddy doubled over just in time to feel the second blow hit him on the side of his head knocking him to the ground with a thud. When he rolled over and looked up at the satisfied expression on his father’s face, the sheer fury Buddy felt gave him the extra adrenalin rush he needed to get up. All the pain and heartache this man had ever caused him culminated into that smug look and Buddy’s mind exploded.

He jumped up in one swift movement, catching Jed off-guard. He swung his right hand putting all the strength of his back and shoulder muscles into the punch. It hit Jed squarely in the face, sending him airborne at least three feet. Jed hit the ground, blood spurting from his broken nose as he lay there completely still.

Dottie rushed to Jed’s unconscious body. She checked her husband over quickly and confirmed that he was breathing and his pulse was strong. Then she turned to Buddy. What have you done? She demanded. For God’s sake, son, you’ve gone too far this time.

Buddy was stunned by her reaction. Here he thought he was defending her and she treated him this way. When he opened his mouth in his defense, she held up her hand to silence him.

Don’t say a word, she warned and then she turned to Cody. Help your brother into the house while I see to your pa. When Cody didn’t move, she yelled at him, Go on, your pa ain’t dead, he’s just knocked out. Help Buddy upstairs and then bring me a bucket of warm water and a rag. She checked her husband again and turned back to the boys. Buddy, don’t you come down those stairs until I come for you, understand?

Buddy stepped into the steaming shower and nearly screamed when the water penetrated the deep cuts on his face and hands. He clenched his teeth as he washed the blood from so many cuts, he couldn’t count them. The water pooled red at his feet and he watched in fascination as it disappeared down the drain just like his life had that morning.

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped a soft towel around his waist, tucking it in to hold it up. He walked over to stand in front of the mirror. He stood for a long time just staring at his reflection. Already several welts and early signs of bruising were forming on practically every part of his body. He didn’t think there was a part left on him that didn’t throb with every move he made.

Finally when he realized his mother wasn’t coming to help him, he took matters into his own hands. He gathered together some first aid supplies and began the painful process of cleaning his wounds. He dabbed at the bloody gashes on his face with a cotton ball drenched in hydrogen peroxide. He cringed as the bubbles cleaned and disinfected the open wounds. Once he was sure his wounds were clean, he applied an antibiotic cream to sterile gauze pads and he bandaged the largest cuts as good as he could. The smaller cuts, he simply applied the cream and left them open to scab over and heal. The last thing he did before leaving the bathroom was pop four aspirin into his mouth, washing them down with a glass of water.

He carefully slipped on soft flannel pajama bottoms and a clean white t-shirt. He sat on the edge of his bed and lit a cigarette while he waited for his mother. What was she going to say to him? He was torn between righteous indignation and unbearable guilt that he completely lost control of his senses like he did. That was something his father did and didn’t he swear an oath to himself that he would never be like his father? How could he let go of his own sense of decency? Laying a hand on your own father was surely the worst thing a son could ever do.

Buddy studied the cigarette lighter he held in his hand. The inscription evoked a bittersweet memory thinking of the night his mother gave it to him. It was the night before his high school graduation. They were sitting on the front porch watching orange streaks invade the late afternoon sky.

Buddy, I don’t know if you’ll ever know how proud I am of you, Dottie said, quickly dabbing the tears that threatened to expose her emotions.

Come on, ma, don’t get all mushy on me, he joked fighting to keep his own emotions under control.

Oh, all right, you brat. Here, I got you a little something for your graduation. Dottie reached into her apron pocket and handed Buddy a small gold object.

I don’t know what to say, he whispered holding the gold lighter as if it was a fragile egg. You shouldn’t have done it, ma. It’s way too expensive.

Course I should, silly, Dottie kissed her first-born son’s cheek and continued, and even though I don’t approve of you smoking, a college man needs to have a little class when he lights his cigarette.

Thanks, mom, you’re the greatest.

Dottie pushed him away playfully. Did you read what it says?

He turned it over and read aloud, Buddy Kingston – Most Valuable Player – Class of 1975.

He shook his head to clear the painful memories. Too bad his old man made sure he never got to go to college on his football scholarship. If he had, Becky would never be marrying someone else. Not in a million years.

He had to forget all that. He had to find the strength to start all over again without Becky and all the dreams they had shared of a wonderful future full of children and lots of laughter; not like his home where there was so little laughter.

Now, sitting here waiting for his mother to come to him was almost unbearable. So much had changed since he woke up that morning he couldn’t begin to comprehend it all. Was it only this morning that he had been awakened by the dream that had haunted him from early childhood? Was the dream a sign of what was to come for him that day? Was it trying to warn him that this day that began with such beauty would end in so much violence?

Finally, Dottie knocked on his door and came in carrying the only suitcase the family owned. She dropped it on the floor at the end of the bed and then she sat down on the edge of the bed next to Buddy.

Son, you have to get out of here and start a new life of your own somewhere far away from this thing between you and your pa. This time it has gone too far.

But, ma, where would I go? This is my home. This farm is all I know. Buddy couldn’t believe Dottie actually wanted him to leave. He loved this farm and it was supposed to be passed down to him as the first-born son. Cody already said he hated farming so he wasn’t interested in carrying on the family tradition. Buddy was supposed to be the third generation Kingston to farm this land and if he had anything to say about it, he wasn’t going to leave his legacy behind to go start a life he didn’t want.

You have to go, son, and in your heart you know it too. She stood up and headed for the door. "I’ll be back in a minute. Get dressed and pack what you really need in that suitcase. I can send the rest of your things when you get settled somewhere. And don’t just go into town. I mean get clear away from this place and all your bad memories. Start fresh and make your own way in