HAPPY HALLOWEEN

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A little reincarnation.

Sarita’s journals hadn’t put Sarah to sleep. They hadn’t let her sleep. Hooked by the story unfolding in them, she handled the heavy pages with care akin to reverence.

6, April, 1865

The war is finally over. I leave tomorrow. I am going back to Georgia, at long last. I hope I will be welcome at Uncle John’s. I need to rest. My family is gone. They are all gone. One more trip dressed like a boy. Seems like I have spent the last six years dressed like a boy.

Sarah fingered the cinnabar necklace as she read. Poor Sarita had spent the war spying and delivering medicine. It hadn’t been enough. According to the first three journals Sarah had read, Sarita could have fried some important people if she’d been willing to tell what she knew about them.

Walter. Sarah felt like she knew the guy by the end of the first journal. The man had figured in many of Sarita’s entries.

 May, 6, 1866

I miss Walter. He has been my salvation so many times. God, I hope he is not too angry with me for sneaking off while he slept. He acted on his conscience and so did I.

Sarah fingered the old necklace as she read about the long hard way from Virginia to Georgia. She didn’t think she could’ve made the trip alone, even with her Girl Scout training and the help of an entire troop. William would never have allowed it. Walter hadn’t either.

May 30, 1867

Almost there. I shall finally see him again. Lord, please let him forgive me. Let him still love me after all this time.

Sarah’s chest hurt, as she shared Sarita’s pain and her love for Walter. What I wouldn’t give to be there when Sarita meets him. Sarah yawned. Her fingers on her new treasure and her thoughts on her new-found relative.

Sarah drifted into a state bordering on sleep. The journal slid from her fingers. Snuggling into her pillows she smiled, picturing the tender reunion of Sarita and

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The black cat crouched on the grass under an oak tree, watching Sabrina’s front porch. The tree had been there as long as he had been around. A smaller house had actually stood here when he’d lived so long ago.

He had not meant to frighten Sabrina when he had appeared to her earlier. At first he had not realized he had taken his cat form. He had just needed to be near her. But she had seen him.

For a second she had seemed to know him and he had felt the excitement of her recognition. Brief as that feeling had been, it was still more than he wanted to feel. He had heard her heart beat a painful tattoo and smelled her fear. That was not possible. He was not alive to hear or smell or feel anything.

Temptation urged him to follow her inside and watch her cooking, eating, sleeping. He could listen to her tonight without her knowledge. She would not see his spirit form. He wandered the streets instead, marveling at the changes he had seen over the centuries. Many he did not understand. A few structures from his lifetime had survived. Homesick for the world he had left behind so long ago, he missed what he could never have again.

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