Chapter 6

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I blinked, then continued staring at him.  Reminding myself to close my mouth, I swallowed, trying to force down the uncomfortable sensation that was rising up from my gut.  I had no idea what to say to him, but I had to say something.  The silence was threatening to swallow up the both of us.

“What do you mean in your dreams?”

“I mean exactly what it sounds like.  All my life I’ve had these dreams. About a river, and four men. The four men I had lunch with today.”

“Men?  So it’s not related to Amelia Davis, because Will and Benny were kids then.”

“Well, see, I don’t know, because I’ve seen them my whole life and it’s like they’ve grown up with me.”

It took me a moment to understand.

“So, wait, you mean when you were a kid you had dreams about my brother when he was a kid, but now you have dreams about him as an adult?”

“Yes, but he’s always at the river.”

“Have you been to the river yet?”

“I have.  I rented Mack’s place, like you suggested, so I’ve done a good bit of exploring.”

“And does it look the way it does in your dreams?”

“Well, yes and no.  I mean I can tell it’s the right river, but it’s not exactly the same.”

“What do you mean it’s not exactly the same?”

“I don’t know.  Just little details.  The locations of trees, the width of the river, things like that.”

I thought for a minute and then had an idea.

“You’re staying at Big Mack’s you said?”

“Yeah.”

“So you must have his number.”

“Yeah, I programmed it into my phone, why?”

“Give him a call.”

“What?”

“Give him a call.”

“About what?  Why am I calling him?”

“Because you’re gonna ask him to take us to the place where they found the body.”

******

Mack agreed to meet us at the cabin, so we got into David’s car and headed toward the river.  On the way I continued asking him questions.  Now that I was finally getting some answers, I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

“Okay, so how exactly did you find us?”

He thought for a moment before responding.  “It was really kind of a coincidence.  I’ve had these dreams for as long as I can remember.  For a while I just ignored them.  I assumed everyone had dreams like that.  But eventually I came to realize that this was not normal.  I literally had the same dream every night for years.  A few details would change here and there, but basically it was the same dream.  I was always at the river, and those four guys were always there.  Of course I didn’t immediately conclude that it was telepathy or prophetic dreams or anything like that.  For one thing nothing ever really happened in the dreams.  It was just the place and the people that I remember seeing.  But the things I saw changed sometimes.”

“Changed how?”

“Well sometimes we’d be walking through the woods and we’d come to the edge of the water.  Or sometimes we’d be in a car on a road that looks a lot like this one—probably because it was this one—and we’d drive right up to the bank.  And sometimes the dream would start near the water and then we’d leave and go back into town.  And I saw the name of the town on the sign.”

“So that’s how you knew it was real?”

He glanced over at me and smiled.  “No.  That’s not how.  I must have seen that sign a hundred times in the course of my life.  I had no idea what it meant.  But one day on a whim I decided to do a search.”

Not quite sure I understood, I asked, “So you just went on Google and typed in Laurel Hill, Georgia?”

“No, I just typed in Laurel Hill.  I had no idea where it was.  I just knew the name.  And I clicked on everything that popped up.  It was a lot of stuff, and nothing looked familiar.  So then I searched for ‘river near Laurel Hill,’ and things started to get more interesting.”

“You found something you recognized?”

“Well, like I said, little things were different, but yeah…I knew I’d found the right place.  But that was only the beginning of it.  I still didn’t know who those people were.  I knew they must be real too, if the river was real, but I didn’t know their names, so I had no idea where to start.”

“What did you do?”

“I started looking up local businesses.  I figured I’d see a picture of someone eventually.”

“And that’s how you found my dad?”

“That’s how I found your dad.  I found the restaurant web site, clicked on the tab that said ‘gallery’, and there he was, along with his name.  Rick Hathaway.  The next day I let my parents know I needed some time off work and I drove down here.”

“There’s a lot of speculation about who you are and why you’re here.  You know that right?”

“I imagine there is.  I know I’ve been a bit mysterious, but I can’t very well just go around telling people that I came here because my dreams told me to.”

We both laughed and I said, “You told me.”

“Yeah, I told you.  I wasn’t planning to, but you said you were open to possibilities, so I took a chance.”

“Well thank you for that.”

There was a moment’s silence as he glanced my way.  Then he said, “So tell me—you said there were things you thought were possible and things you thought were not very likely.  You said you believed in ghosts, but not psychics.  What do you think now?”

I considered the question.  “Hmm…I don’t know if that’s changed or not.”

“Then how do you explain why I’m here?”

“Well first of all, I am Catholic, as you know.  So when presented with something out of the ordinary, my first thought is divine intervention.”

“So God gave me these dreams?”

“It’s possible.  I mean, thinking they come from God is no stranger than thinking they come from anywhere else.”

“But you said you like to keep an open mind about that.”

“Yes.”

“So if you open your mind all the way, what other explanations do you see?”

“You’re asking if I think you’re psychic?”

“Yes.”

I took a breath.  How in the world could I answer that?  “I don’t know.  Like I said, the existence of something like that would be fairly easy to prove, so we should hear about it from time to time.  Or do you think you’re the only psychic in the world?”

“I want to know what you think.”

“Okay, well, you asked me about ghosts, right?  Why can’t that be it?  I mean we’ve got a thirty year old murder at the heart of all of this, don’t we?  So…”

“So Amelia Davis is trying to contact me from beyond the grave?”

“Why not?”

He gave a half laugh before answering.  “I think a better question is ‘why me’.  And why did I know absolutely nothing about her until you told me the story this afternoon?  If this was some ghost trying to get justice for an unsolved crime, I think her messages would have been a bit more obvious.”

I shrugged.  “I don’t know. Maybe not.  Maybe it’s hard for spirits to communicate with us.  So she did the best she could.”

“Well, hopefully things will be a little clearer after today.”

We had just started down the long driveway to the cabin, and neither of us said anything else the rest of the way.  As many questions as I had, I knew that he must have quite a few more, and I was hoping that we were both about to get some answers.

******

David and I were silent as Big Mack guided the little aluminum boat down the river.  Though it was the first week of September, it was still oppressively hot.  While most of the country gets a summer that lasts from June to August, Georgia’s summers last from April to early October.  The only saving grace was that we were surrounded by woods.  Huge trees drooping with Spanish moss formed a canopy that blocked out the most intense of the sun’s rays.  But of course down on the water, miles from civilization, there was no escaping the bugs, and they were out in full force today.

I watched David as we floated along.  He seemed mesmerized.  I couldn’t begin to imagine how strange this must all be to him, but his facial expressions gave me a clue.  There was awe and wonder mingled with fear and trepidation.  I knew he was looking for something that would seem familiar to him, something that would be the clue to unravelling the mystery that had plagued him his entire life.  And now that I was right in the middle of that mystery, I was shaking with anticipation myself.

“We’re getting close,” Mack finally said, and about five minutes later we were stepping out of the boat onto dry land.

David looked around.  “So this is the place?”

“Somewhere around here.  I mean it was years ago, and I haven’t much cared to come back here since.  No one much cares to come out here now, except your occasional teenagers come to get drunk and tell scary stories.  But yeah, this is pretty much the place.”

David glanced around, scanning the area.  Then he was still, looking in just one direction for a long time.  Mack and I watched him, not sure what to do.  He seemed completely lost in thought.

“It’s that way,” he finally said, and started walking into the woods.

“Hold on, David, wait for us,” I called as I struggled to catch up. 

On and on he walked, Mack and me following behind.  We seemed to walk for a very long time, but because of all of the tree roots and underbrush we really did not cover much distance at all.  We stayed as near the riverbank as possible, and just walked.  I began to think that David was leading us blindly, that he really had no idea where we were going, but then he stopped.  I came out of the bramble and stood beside him, Mack right behind me.  We found ourselves in a small clearing, the water just visible on the other side of a cluster of bushes.  David was staring directly at a large cypress tree that was growing right at the water’s edge.  It had a very distinctive look about it, the way the trunk grew vertically for a ways and then bent to the side about half way up.  The way the roots spread out in all directions like the legs of an enormous spider.  It was creepy.

“That’s it,” David said, still looking at it.  Then he looked over at me and smiled.  “That’s it!”

“Wait a minute, I’m confused here,” Mack interjected.  “I thought you wanted to see the place where we found that Davis lady.”

I looked at him.  “This isn’t the place?”

“Well, yeah, this is the place, but we didn’t find her over by that tree.  She was over that way,” he pointed at a place about twenty feet from where David was looking, “under those bushes.”

“I know,” David said, “but that’s the tree.”

“What tree?  I don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.  You said you ain’t never been here before, so how in the world do you recognize some tree by a river you’ve never even seen?”

David did not respond.  He just stood and stared at the tree for a long time.  I remained quiet, not wanting to disturb whatever process was going on in his mind.  I was dying to find out, but I also knew that he trusted me now, so he would tell me eventually. 

Big Mack was not so patient.  “Look, if you kids want to stand here looking at trees all day that’s your business, but I’m gonna go back to the boat.  Wake me up when you’re finished with…whatever the heck you’re doing out here.”

Suddenly David turned around.  “No, Mack, wait.”  He walked up to the big man with a pleading look on his face.  “Show me again where you found the body.”

“I told you, over there,” and he gestured vaguely over his shoulder.

“Specifically.”

“Specifically there,” he said, turning around and pointing.

David walked in the direction that Mack indicated.  He stopped at the edge of some underbrush.  “Here?”

Big Mack shrugged.  “Yeah.”

And then David did something completely unexpected.  He disappeared into the bushes.

“Oh for the love of crap!” Mack roared and stomped off in the direction of the boat.

I just waited.  The underbrush was so thick that I could not see David at all, and with Mack gone I felt all alone in this eerie section of forest.  The fact that a grisly crime had been discovered here did not make me feel better. 

I stood and watched the leaves dancing in the breeze, and listened to the sounds of birds chirping in trees high above my head.  An eternity seemed to pass, and I began to think that maybe I should dive into the bush after David.  But then, finally, he emerged.

His facial expression was impossible to read.  He was pale, as if he had just been through a harrowing experience, but his eyes sparkled with excitement. 

“I was right,” he said, and then just stood looking into my eyes, as if waiting for me to suddenly understand.  But I didn’t understand.

“Right about what?”

“My dreams.  Those four men standing by the river.  And there’s always that tree.”

“Okay, but you’ve told me that already.”

“Yes, but I’ve also had dreams where it’s just me alone in the woods.  And I’m always looking at that tree.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m looking at the tree from the direction of those bushes.  Don’t you get it?  That tree was the last thing Amelia Davis saw before she died.”




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