co-exist, how could they communicate?
― Iris Murdoch
Degrees of Separation
Marnie was furious when she left and I didn't blame her.
I had been so preoccupied with Ember and the possibility we shared a past life together that I completely neglected Marnie and failed to even touch base with her.
I was without excuse. I had put all my time and energy into sorting my past with Ember and putting together a team to help Lise, that I ignored the fact Marnie and I were a team as well...
Or, at least, we used to be before I got lost chasing the tail of my own mind.
Now I had to face Bill Hay, our editor, and tell him how I ended up in the weeds running down this assignment.
He would not be pleased and might even fire me.
Of course, I'd take all the blame but that wouldn't do much for Marnie since she had only the makings of a fluff piece―a nostalgic backward glance at a slice of Toronto's history.
A fine mess I got us into this time.
Bill Hay was staring out his window at the lake. Not a good sign.
He swivelled round in his chair to frown at me. "How did you go from doing a feature on paranormal events surrounding the Palais Royale site to investigating a librarian's belief she lived a past life?"
It was a fair question and I felt I'd be hanging heavy weights on slender wires attempting to answer it.
"It's a long story," I said, hollowly. "I'm not sure you'd understand."
"Try me," he growled.
"It all began with Eliot Granger, the Professor who gave you the idea for the story. I attended one of his meetings at the Mandela Society in Victoria College and it was there I met a girl named Ember Snowdon, a graduate student working on her Phd in History."
"Cut to the chase, " he growled.
"She believed she and I shared a past life and had met at the Palais Royale. Before you roll your eyes and dismiss this notion I should tell you, she was literally the girl of my dreams―I've dreamt of her my whole life."
He drummed his fingers impatiently on his desk. "Have you any proof of that?"
I nodded. "Actually, yes. She's not only in my dreams but shares them. She told me specific details of every recent dream about her I've had, including places and events."
"So, how does the librarian figure into this?"
I took a deep breath and began.
"Marnie found a dozen people who claimed to have had a paranormal experience connected to the old dance hall site and she was one of them. We eliminated the other eleven as simple nostalgia buffs, but this woman, Lise Phillips, had an actual paranormal experience and saw the Palais Royale as it was in its heyday and felt herself being drawn back into the past. She was terrified. We consulted with Eliot Granger and he believed she was recalling a past life and that's what we're currently exploring."
"You say. 'we're currently exploring'―are you referring to you and Marnie?"
I shook my head. "I'm afraid I got so involved in this personally that I was working with Ember, Professor Granger and two other Mandela members to investigate this. Marnie had turned up nothing."
Bill Hay swivelled back to stare out over the lake.
"So, you're telling me you went ahead on your own without involving Marnie?"
I gulped and whispered timidly, "I'm afraid I did and I feel terrible about that."
He shook his head in dismay. "You should feel like a dog, hanging her out to dry like that. I want her involved in this story."
I wasn't sure I heard him correctly.
"You mean you want us to continue and write this feature?"
"Of course―the readers will eat this up―especially if you add in the part about you and Ember also sharing a past life."
But I thought you warned me about the dangers of getting mystical―you said that was how you lost a good reporter."
"I did. And I caution you about getting in over your head, but I'd run down my own grandmother for a story like this that'll sell papers and garner reader interest."
I left his office, head spinning in disbelief and his last words echoing in my brain―and be sure to include Marnie.
I wan't sure how she'd react, but at least we weren't both out of work.