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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/167557-A-Second-Sight
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Romance/Love · #167557
A single woman ventures in to the past...
The highway was long, with very few curves, and Jamie had never been down it before. She was enjoying the scenery despite the heat. Tiny dust devils swirled across the sandhills while heat vapors arose from the pavement. It was an awesome sight, combined with the pink-orange color of the forthcoming sunset in her rearview mirror.

Jamie turned the stereo down just so she could listen to the quiet. Somehow, it all seemed to be leading her to something special; she could just feel it.

The company she worked for was having a little employee gathering at a local tourist attraction that enticed the locals because of the history and the grilled T-bone steak. Jamie had almost decided not to participate, but there really wasn't much else going on and the meal expense would be paid. Better to go then to sit at home, wondering what to do with herself, she thought.

The turn came up rather abruptly and she nearly missed it. She had to turn to retrace her path. The car behind her didn't appreciate the U-turn she made. The occupants flipped her off, but she paid them no mind.

After making the correct turn, she found herself traveling north over a set of railroad tracks. A dirt road led her to a parking area a mile later. She parked in front of a split rail fence next to another vehicle that she did not recognize. Jamie assumed she was the first one of the group to arrive. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't be the only one.

Since it was obvious she had time to spare, she brushed her long, straight blonde hair. A glance in her rearview mirror told her that she needed more sleep than she had been getting lately. The dark circles under her hazel eyes were becoming more apparent every day. She tried to ignore this fact as she got out of the car to look around.

Leaning against the Chevy sedan, she lit a long cigarette, a habit she had taken up when she was twelve. The sun was nearing the western horizon. Checking her watch, she saw that it was nearly seven thirty. They were to have supper at eight. Other cars began arriving, yet none appeared familiar to her.

She was just finishing her cigarette when the first of her crew pulled up. He was one of the overstuffed truck drivers that she didn't know very well. She didn't even know his name. Well, that's what these little get-togethers are for, she supposed. She watched as he got out of his pick-up and began ambling her way.

Jamie donned her black jean jacket, since the evening was cooling, and tried not to notice the rather large stain on the front of his white t-shirt that he wore under an unbuttoned, long-sleeved flannel shirt. He spat as he neared her, and luckily, he was distracted by another car as it pulled in next to his truck.

The new arrival was a woman everyone knew well. Her name was Cheryl, a secretary at the job site. With a wave of her hand, she let Jamie know that she was aware of her presence.

The truck driver struck up a conversation with Cheryl, which lasted but a minute. Cheryl began walking toward the entrance to the park, truck driver in tow. It was then that Jamie noticed several log buildings, some of which looked very old. She followed the pair and was instantly struck by the authenticity of her 'old western' surroundings.

There was even a covered wagon similar to those she had seen in the local museums. It was as though she had stepped back in time and had become a part of the Oregon Trail history. Smiling to herself, she strolled over to the building nearest her. It was much smaller than the others and boasted a hitching post and narrow porch. A sign posted on the outside wall told her that this particular cabin had been moved years ago. Originally, it had been only half of an actual dwelling used by a family who had settled in this valley in the mid 1800's.

Stepping through the thick, heavy-looking door, she immediately noticed several furs hanging in different locations on the wall. Each of them was strung across tree limbs that had been fashioned long ago into loops. It appeared that the furs had been around for quite some time, as they were moth-eaten and some of the fur was falling out.

The beamed roof was slung low, making the single room seem even smaller than it actually was. There was a long glass case in the center of the room that contained smaller relics. Included in the array were old arrowheads, branding irons, horse tack, oxen yokes, buttons and pistols, as well as faded photographs of dour-looking people with weathered faces and tattered clothes.

Jamie thought for a moment about what it must have been like for them, living day in and day out on the trail. History books only told a part of the story that was apparent in the facial expressions she saw in these old pictures. Jamie realized she was peering into the faces of very strong-willed men, women and children. She continued exploring the contents of the dimly lit room until she'd seen everything.

It was getting darker outside and the evening chill was penetrating her jacket now. Stepping back outside, she could smell strong coffee in the evening air and saw a group of people standing around a low fire. There were two or three very large coffeepots hanging from hooks above the fire. Her boss was among the group and when he noticed her, he waved her over.

"It is good to see you, Jamie" he exclaimed. "How are things going with you these days?"

"Good as always, Mr. Herbert, thank you", she replied half-honestly.

"Glad to hear it, my girl, glad to hear it. Care for some hot coffee to take the chill off a bit?"

Nodding vigorously, Jamie agreed. "Absolutely, Mr. Herbert, I would love some."

The older man leaned over to take a pot from one of the fire hooks with a mitted hand. At the same time, Jamie picked up an enameled metal cup from a wooden barrel that served as a table. Cream and sugar packets were there for those who didn't drink coffee black. She picked up a sugar packet and emptied it into her cup.

She had known Mr. Herbert since she was little because her father had also worked for him. Smiling, he turned to her with the pot cradled in both hands. She saw that his eyes were still the faded blue that she remembered. She had always thought he had very wise eyes. His eyes were much like those of some of the people she had just seen in those old photographs. His hair was white as bleached linen and he was dressed in western attire. The effect was astounding, considering where they were.

She smiled openly at him as he poured her cup full of the hot steaming liquid.

"Thank you Mr. Herbert, this will do wonders for me", she professed.

He nodded at her with a wide grin spread across his face. "You are a good girl, Jamie Lynn", he told her. Then he became caught up in another conversation with the man behind her.

She wandered over to a shelter where several long tables, equipped with attached benches, were lined up. Many of her co-workers were already seated there and she had to work her way between them to an open space on one of the long benches.

Conversation was light; mostly the men talked about fishing excursions they had been on during the summer, while the women exchanged information about each other's children. Neither subject interested Jamie because she wasn't one for fishing and she didn't have any children. She was content to listen to everybody talk at once. She could pick out what she wanted to hear and the rest didn't matter.

A thin, bearded man in a dirty white cowboy hat cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled "Hey there!" to get everyones attention.

With just those two words, he had everyone's attention.

"Folks, my name is Jake," he said with a nod. "Welcome to 'Trails West Wagon Train'! Just thought you might be interested to know that after your meal there will be little wagon rides where ol' Harry will fill ya in on some of the history from this area along the way. There are some old building foundations just east of us here, and Harry knows a bunch of stories he would like to tell." He gestured with his hands as he talked, hooking them in and out of his belt.

"Also, after you eat, we will move out to the bonfire area, where there's plenty more seating, and we can just have us a nice little time. We'll be singing some old campfire songs, which some of you older folks may know the words to." Jake got a rise out of some of the crowd with that one.

"For right now, cook says the chow is ready and you all can get started at your own pace," he said, waving an arm in the direction of the charcoal pit, "but I should warn ya, if you move too slow, that ol' coot will have you doing the dishes right quick." Jake had everybody laughing and jumping out of their seats to be sure they wouldn't end up doing dishes.

'Cook' turned out to be several youths who had been slaving over the pit, turning steaks with long forks. Jamie thought about how good the charcoal and woodsmoke smelled. She just knew the steaks would be tasty.

There were also big baked potatoes wrapped in foil, along with a fresh tossed salad. The dressings and other condiments were set at the long tables, including what looked to be homemade butter and sourdough bread. Jamie was impressed with everything and decided to add this place to her 'best' list.

Getting through supper took close to an hour. Jamie mingled with the few people that she knew and began enjoying herself quite a bit. There was no alcohol served at all, but Jamie had detected the odor of it in the air. Looking around, she realized that several people appeared to have been tipping the bottle a bit, including Jake. The thought made her laugh to herself as she pictured them all going off, one or two at a time, behind a building, or to one of the marked bathrooms, for quick swallows on hidden bottles.

Soon people started wandering back toward the parking area where a huge bonfire was burning. Wide plank benches were placed strategically around the outside of the fire. By now, the evening was had turned to night and it was getting downright cold.

Jamie was glad for the big fire, but she sat back as far as she could, remembering that they were going to be doing some singing. She had no intention of singing where anybody could see her. The bench she picked was behind several others, obscured from the view of the fire, but she didn't mind. She preferred to be unnoticed at this point.

The mood of the crowd was uplifting and Jamie really was having a great time. She was shy and couldn't bring herself to get in the spotlight any more than she was by staying with the group. When the singing began, Jamie joined in, but not loud enough to draw any attention to herself.

Jake was the leader in all the activitites, with an acoustic guitar slung around his neck and shoulder. He was strumming and singing and stomping his foot while urging the others to join in. After a short time, Jake quit strumming and introduced another member of his gang.

Jamie nearly forgot herself and stood up when she saw a young man come within the firelight. Jake called him Sam. He was a nice looking redhead dressed in blue jeans. He wore a heavy flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves and worn over another long sleeved shirt. Both shirts were tucked into his jeans. He wore riding boots and he also carried a guitar.

Jamie's heart fluttered and she thought it was going to stop beating completely. It just felt as if she had seen this 'Sam' before and thought that perhaps it had been in her dreams. She couldn't even move for the next few minutes as she watched Sam, laughing and joking with Jake, in the suddenly romantic firelight.

When Jamie realized she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open, she moved deeper into the shadows looking quickly around to be sure no one had seen her. Regaining her slight confidence, her eyes, once again, went to Sam.

She had never heard the tune or lyrics that he was now playing, but she knew she would never forget them either. The words melded into her brain as she listened and watched him.

Occasionally, at Jakes request, people would stand and tell about the state they came from. Most were neighboring states, with their own western history and answers would lead to more songs. It seemed Jake and Sam knew them all. Jamie got through it without being noticed. She was good at 'disappearing' into the crowd. She had been doing it all of her life.

Jamie sensed a reason for why she had stayed up to that moment. Could Sam have been that reason? Was she supposed to have come tonight just to find him? If so, what was supposed to happen next? What was the plan?

Jamie was starting to irritate herself with the questions. She really should leave, she thought, but she couldn't bring herself to do that. She was far too in awe of him and she still had that sense that she had known him before.

In a short time, the laughter and singing drew to a close.

"Hey everybody, I would like to tell ya what a great bunch of people ya'll have been. Me and Sam would be glad to have ya back here anytime, if'n ya'll have a hankerin to come."

Jakes closing remarks led to more laughter and a few jokes. The crowd had been a fun one, certainly with help from the whiskey bottles hidden away in their clothing.

Jamie continued to stare at him, absorbed in the thoughts and questions her mind was begging her to answer. It suddenly dawned on her that Sam was staring back and she hadn't even noticed. Her heart skipped a beat and she withdrew in a reflexive motion, but she couldn't move from her position. It seemed as though her arms and legs had gone numb.

She let her gaze fall for just a moment, wondering how he could possibly have seen her behind all those sitting in front of her? Surely, it was far too dark for him to have really been looking at her. She slowly raised her eyes again and saw that he was no longer looking her way.

She relaxed, thinking that it had just been her imagination. The smell of the wood smoke and her full stomach must have been putting her to sleep. Yes, and that would explain the numbness. Feeling better, she got up and started to blend in with the others who were drifting back to their cars. They were just passing the little rustic museum when Cheryl caught up with her.
"Hey Jamie, where ya been, girl?" She latched on to Jamie's jacket as she spoke, steadying herself.
"I've been here,Cheryl, just hanging toward the back a bit." She hoped that was a good enough answer for the secretary.
"Well, did you have fun, anyway?" Cheryl was cheery enough that Jamie thought perhaps she had been tipping a bottle along with the others.
"Yeah, Cheryl, I had fun! Sheesh!" She was trying to be playful too, but it was not like Cheryl was one of her best friends.
"I really am tired though", Jamie commented through a phony yawn, "I almost fell asleep for a while."
"Well honey", said the older lady, "you best be getting your young butt home then!" Cheryl gave her a quick pat on the arm and scooted off to catch up with Mr. Herbert.

Jamie shook her head at the sight of Cheryl hanging on her boss. Cheryl had never been good at subtly and lacked it entirely in her loosened condition.

She was approaching her car and reached in her pocket to find her cigarettes. She pulled the pack out and lit one while she walked.
“Those things are dangerous, you know.” The voice came from somewhere behind her and made her feel apprehensive as she turned toward it.

Apprehension turned to bewilderment and Jamie went weak in the knees when Sam came out of the shadows. He had obviously been standing there as she’d passed.

She could hardly find words, standing there with a cigarette dangling from her lips and feeling rather faint. She desperately tried to hide her anxiety as she pulled on her cigarette once and blew a puff of smoke into the air.
“So is sneaking up on a woman in the dark”, she pointed out, “never know if she might be armed.” He chuckled at that remark.
“I guess you are right”, he allowed, “but I wasn’t sneaking.” He was standing directly in front of her, no more than two feet away.
“I guess I should apologize”, he kicked a booted toe in the dirt with his head down, “I just thought…, well, I don’t know what I thought to tell the truth.”
Jamie knew how he felt. It was probably something like what she was feeling right then too.
“Oh, I see”, she replied as she tried to think of something to say. Instead, she drew from the cigarette again.
He quickly looked up again, sensing that she might be thinking of leaving.
“Hey, I really am sorry. It just seemed like…like I knew you or something”, he stammered, “but I don’t know where I would know you from though, I haven’t been around here very long.”
“You haven’t? Well, you seem to fit right in here.” She wished she could disappear now after saying something so stupid.
“I mean, everybody seems to know and like you here”, she added, hoping to cover her idiocy.
He smiled warmly and she sighed with relief.
“Actually, I felt some kind of a connection too, when Jake introduced you”, she admitted, “I thought maybe I had just eaten too much.”
She definitely had Sam's attention with that comment. Neither one of them said anything for several seconds. They were thinking about the situation, one sure the other was thinking the same things.

Sam spoke first. He looked into her eyes questioningly.
“Do you feel as if we should pursue whatever it is between us?" he asked. "Personally, I don’t think I would ever stop wondering “what if” if we didn’t .”
Jamie was silent. How could she answer that? What she was feeling was a sort of elation, but at the same time she knew that things don’t just happen this way.
“My name is Jamie”, she told him, “do you know me, Sam?”
Sam took her hand and held it, saying, “I think I have always known you, Jamie…”

“Jamie? Honey, wake up, you sleepy head.” Sam was holding Jamie’s hand and smoothing her hair with the back of his other one. Jamie mumbled something and rolled over to one side. Blinking herself awake and seeing Sam standing there, she was momentarily confused.
“There you are! Happy anniversary, my love”, Sam said, heartfelt emotions seeming to flow with his words. Finally, Jamie remembered all the many years before, when they had met for the first time. She smiled up at him and asked, “Do you think we are getting better at loving one another with each lifetime, Sam?”

Turning to sit on the bed next to her, Sam had only one reply, “I think our love is what dreams are made of, and one more lifetime with you is all I ever wanted.” He reached down and held her to him gently.

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