Jennifer sat back in her chair. She remembered Bobby Scott and how he hadn’t known how to kiss her, or any girl. She remembered again the beer on his breath on that cold Friday night. She had kissed him back just to get rid of him. “Maybe it was my fault,” she joked. “Maybe I shouldn’t have played so hard to get.”
“People choose what they want out of life, Jenny. That’s one of the first things you learn from Habasha. People choose their parents. They choose their lovers and their friends. They choose because they need to fulfill whatever is unresolved from a past life.” Eileen set down her menu. “I think I’m going to have chicken,” she announced. “I never get anything too fancy when I’m eating on the road.”
“Choice, and deciding for others, is all based on experiences from previous lives,” Eileen continued after they had ordered.
“I don’t get that. What do you mean?”
“Well, take us. Who was class president?”
“I was!”
“And I decided you should be.”
“Eileen, don’t be silly!” Jennifer leaned forward. She had had too much to drink and was trying to keep her voice down. “It was my clique, you know that.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I don’t believe this.” Jennifer sighed, baffled. “I remember everything about high school. Everything! It was one of the happiest times in my life. I mean, why would I screw up something like that? I remember when I decided to run for class president. You were the newspaper editor; Karen was in charge of the yearbook. And if I could be president, then our clique—my clique!—would control the senior class and practically all of Shreiber High.” Her voice had risen, and she saw out of the corner of her eye that she was attracting attention. Several diners looked up from their meals, and two men at the bar swung around to stare at them. Jennifer realized suddenly that she and Eileen were the only single women in the restaurant. She lowered her voice.
“Jenny,” Eileen said slowly, “let me tell you a story and see if you recall it. Okay?”
Jennifer nodded. The two drinks had given her a slight headache. She reached over and took a sip of water and saw that her hand was trembling.
“Do you remember our junior year?” Eileen asked.
“Of course.”
“Do you remember Sam Sam and when we went to Jones Beach?”
“Yes! Sam Sam!” Jennifer smiled. It was a name she had forgotten, the girl from Thailand who had been an exchange student at their school.
“Do you remember what happened to Sam Sam, Jenny?” Eileen asked. The waitress had returned with their food, and Eileen was calmly unfolding her napkin, watching Jennifer carefully.
Jennifer shook her head. She could picture Sam Sam, a small girl with beautiful long black hair, pretty brown eyes, and a wonderful smile.
“You don’t remember those jerks from Bay Shore? Those three bikers on the dunes? You and I and Sam Sam were on the beach that Saturday, sunning?”
“Yes, I do!” Jennifer said, suddenly recalling. She remembered then the young hoods swaggering along the beach. They looked so weird coming through the sand in their tight jackets and their long hair. They had wandered down to the patch of sand where she and Eileen and Sam Sam were stretched out on blankets.
“And one of them called Sam Sam a nigger?”
“Yes,” Jennifer whispered.
“See, Jennifer, you do block events, don’t you? We all do.”
“I was so afraid,” Jennifer confessed.
“But do you remember what you did?”
Jennifer shook her head.
“You stood up to all of them, told them off, and told them you’d have them all arrested.”
Jennifer nodded, smiling, pleased to recall the long ago incident. “I guess I did. I was so scared.”
“And I was so proud of you. I remember Sam Sam thanking you. I decided then you should be class president. I told everyone what you had done.”
There were tears in Jennifer’s eyes. “She was really lovely. I wonder what happened to her.”
“She was killed in an auto accident in Thailand when she was nineteen.”
“Oh God! No! How do you?”
“We wrote once a year or so, and then her brother wrote saying she had been killed.”
“I can’t believe it. Little Sam Sam.”
“It’s all right,” Eileen said quickly. “She was reincarnated as a member of a royal family in Asia somewhere. Habasha told me. Within our lifetime she’ll be a great leader of her people. We didn’t lose Sam Sam. She simply went on to a better life, a more important and perfect life. It was her destiny. You must learn to accept this, Jenny. Let life happen to you. Know in your heart that all these events—good and bad—will pass, and that you, too, will pass into other existences, other worlds.”
Jennifer sat back in her chair, shaking her head. “It’s all so strange.” She looked away from Eileen, glanced around the room, and saw that the men at the bar were watching them, whispering to each other.
“You’re just not ready, that’s all.” Eileen reached over and seized Jennifer’s wrist. “But you have great ability, Jennifer. Your electromagnetic frequency is much better than mine, more powerful, perhaps, than Kathy Dart’s. She has said as much to me.”
“I can’t do anything,” Jennifer whispered back across the table, “except kill people.”
“You have only destroyed what needed to be destroyed. You have only rid this world of individuals who needed to be reincarnated as better, purer spirits.”
“I can’t channel. I don’t know—”
“I understand.” Eileen broke in. “You can’t summon guiding spirits the way Kathy does. But you’re gifted in a way that she isn’t. You can ‘see,’ Jennifer.”
“Then why didn’t I see that guy with the club? The one that hit me?” Jennifer had raised her voice again, disturbed by Eileen’s certitude.
“As I said, you weren’t ready,” Eileen answered calmly. “I have a feeling that soon we’ll know why you’ve been singled out. There’s a connection somewhere.” Eileen, excited, was waving her hands and inadvertently summoned a busboy carrying a coffee pot. “I’m sorry.” Eileen laughed. Both she and Jennifer began to giggle, exhausted by their long drive, their drinks, and the intensity of the conversation.
“Excuse us,” Jennifer said, recovering, “would you please have the waitress bring us the check?” She smiled warmly at the young man, who stared blankly at both of them and then wordlessly walked away.
The waitress approached then with a tray of drinks. Jennifer looked up and shook her head. “We didn’t order another round,” she explained.
“The gentlemen at the bar asked if they might buy you all a drink,” the waitress said, leaning over to set down the glasses.
Jennifer stopped her, saying quietly, “Please thank the gentlemen, but we don’t accept drinks from strangers.” Although she did not glance over at the men, she knew they were watching, and at once she felt her pulse quicken and her blood surge.
“Jenny, easy,” Eileen whispered, “let’s not—”
“It’s okay, Eileen,” she said calmly.
“Jennifer,” Eileen whispered urgently. “Let’s not have an incident with these jerks.” She reached over to grab Jennifer’s hand and immediately pulled away, her eyes widening, as she caught the look on Jennifer’s face.
“Get me out of here,” she told Eileen.
Eileen had her purse open and was dropping money onto the table. Jennifer stepped around the table and rushed for the door. She would be all right, she kept telling herself, if she could get outside, away from the two men at the bar. It was only a question of control. She had to control herself. Nervously she licked her lips.