Chapter 5 - What Dreams May Come

For now, this is the last chapter I've written. I'm storyboarded up to chapter 28 (I have issues!) but only have shot about half of Chapter 6, which will be an interesting chapter.

In this chapter there is some violent content, implied. No blood, no gore. Just.. simulated people being simulated assholes. Yeah. Oh, and shitty French and Cantonese. Because it's been ages since I've used either one. Also please excuse my attempts at foreign culture, if I am not accurate. This is not meant to be racist or anything of the sort.

THEN: (JFC I watch too much Supernatural) A lot of dialog. Two local yokels meet the Big Bad in the Bayou, and they leave to go see their mob boss with a big sack o' cash. Big Bad is a creepy mofo who requests a delivery, not DiGiorno. Karena and Walter dance around the whole subject, while poor Gabriel is trying so hard not to interfere, as per Balthasar's rules.

NOW: MOAR dialog, this time with better filler, more fleshing out and some.... things coming to a head.

Clark and Penny left the swampy wasteland of the bayou and crossed the ironwork bridge into the "posh" section of Twinbrook., known as Wandering Heights. The first house on the left was where the couple were expected; the residence of Clark's boss and his family, the Rackets.

The Rackets were a two-bit crime family with aspirations to be like their cousins in the big city; but with Twinbrook being so remote, not much happened in the small town. Bill's father, Max, was supposedly the head of the affair until a stroke laid him low; but it was apparent to the townspeople that it was his wife, Marigold, who was the true brains behind the operation. The locals didn't seem to mind their semi-criminal activities; their casinos and nightclubs were a source of tourist income during the peak season, and even during the off-season. Sure, a few tourists went missing; but they were told not to explore the bayou or that creepy old plantation on the top of the hill near the open-air auditorium.

The door to the large house opened, and the artfully re-arranged face of Dennis Racket, the family's heavy, appeared in the crack.

"I have news and money for the Boss from Mastah Dagon." Clark said, holding up the heavily stuffed duffel bag.

Dennis grunted, took the bag, and opened the door to let Clark and Penny in, Penny trying not to stare at the gaudy decor. The Rackets made no bones about their Italian heritage, and that old fascist himself, Mussolini, the man of expensive tastes that ran straight into tacky, would have felt right at home.

Dennis ushered Clark and Penny into the ground floor office of his brother, gesturing them to take seats in front of the desk. He dropped the bag on the desk and leaned against the window.

Bill looked up from his ledger, glanced at the money bag and then at his employee.

"So, Clark - " Bill began, his Brooklyn accent completely out of place in this southern backwater town "Did it go well?"

Clark fidgeted in his seat, nervous. He wiped his clammy palms on his pants before opening his mouth.

"Yeah, Boss. Mastah Dagon was real interested in Penny, just like you said he'd be."

Penny looked at Clark, still upset by the whole affair in the bayou. She knew, though, if she spoke up here or elsewhere, Clark'd have a reason to hit her again, and she didn't want that.

"Good. I see he gave me the cash from the estate sale of the Fontenot Mansion. Too bad that old couple had to have such an .... unfortunate accident." Bill said.

Clark and Penny both gulped. They knew what Bill was referring to - an insult at the local baking contest, his mother losing her coveted grand prize, breaking her decades-long winning streak. The woman who beat her out for the prize, and her husband, had a fatal car accident when going across the bridge near the old dam. The fact that they were visiting Bill and Dennis' no-good brother, Dudley Racket (who was no good to the Rackets since despite being in law enforcement, he refused to play along and let his brothers get away with their crimes), was the nail in their coffins... and in their tires. Never mind the brake lines.

"Y-yeah, Boss. But Mastah Dagon wants more." Clark stammered. Elderly people weren't much of a meal, apparently.

"More? More what?" Bill asked, his brother also curious, but saying nothing.

They both knew that this Mister Dagon, who ever he really was, was a definite weirdo; but he had ties to families older than the Rackets and was able to manipulate them in ways the Rackets only dreamed of. So what if he lived in that house that always smelled of an abattoir and no-one ever saw him during the day.

Clark shrugged in attempt to look nonchalant. "Eighteen, young, unspoiled.... I dunno what he's talking about."

Penny rolled her eyes inwardly at her companion. Clark may be a big spender, and she never wanted for any material items, but he was dumb as a post and brutish to boot.

Bill sighed, drawing his hand over his face. "I do. I'll have one of my boys bring it to him. G'wan now, Clark. The dog races 'bout to start an' you have books to cook. Take 5 grand from this stash and put it on Ivanna Win, number 4. She's gonna win, if you know what I mean."

Clark stood up and warily approached the desk, taking the proffered cash from the duffel bag.

"Dennis, take another 5 and take Penny shoppin'. She did good today and she's gonna need some new threads for her new position." Bill said, handing his brother the cash and waving him off.

Penny stood up as the imposing man approached, putting on her best fake smile.

"C'mon, Pen." Dennis murmured, taking her arm and leaving the office with her.

---

Meanwhile, at the house on the hill, lunch was made, naps were taken, and as the afternoon chores were doled out and finished, the three occupants found themselves in the kitchen, discussing matters of dinner over cups of tea.

Gabriel gave Karena a knowing look as she cleared her throat and took the leap.

"So, Walter. I've been thinking..."

Walter's heart did a complete somersault. Not bothering with proper manners, he interrupted "Me too. Karena, I...."

Gabriel's "harrumph" stopped Walter in mid-sentence, as if to say 'Let the woman finish, boy.'



Karena sighed and began again. "I've been thinking; I don't wanna cook tonight. How about you and I go out for Chinese?"

Walter was taken aback at the question. "Hunh?"

He had no idea what "going out for Chinese" meant, in his pre-international-foods mind. He knew of the Orient, but going out for it? What was Karena talking about?

Gabriel sensed Walter's confusion and chuckled softly. This was a good idea.

Karena smiled at her friend's confusion. "Chinese food. Do you want to try it?"

Walter's curiosity was piqued. "I guess?"

Karena continued, trying to convince Walter. "There's only a few restaurants in this area; the local government put the kibosh on fast food establishments in favor of local restaurants. So, unless you want to drive 2 hours to Bridgeport, there's Chinese, Asian-French fusion, a few greasy spoon diners, two Italian places and a French restaurant. No German places. Sorry."

"French?" Walter said, surprised.

"Yeah, but it sucks. Han's is the best Chinese I've had in a long time. I know the owners, so we don't order off of the Americanized menu." Karena said.

"Well, I'll try anything once." Walter said.

"You can't go in that uniform, though. Did you bring any other clothes with you when you.... apparated here?" Karena asked.

"Um, no. Shit." Walter said, upset. He was looking forward to the meal and the one-on-one time with Karena.



Gabriel stepped in, eager to help. "Did you check the dresser in your room?"

"No?" Walter replied, confused again.

"Why don't you go do so? Han's is business casual, so dress pants, shirt, tie, sports coat." Gabriel prodded.



Walter shrugged his shoulders and began to make his way to his room. He was relieved that the archangel had thought to provide him with modern clothing; he didn't want to embarrass Karena by going out in public in the uniform; he had spent the last couple of nights up late catching up on history and world events via the internet - ignoring the other sites Gabriel had suggested with a waggle of his eyebrows - and he knew that that uniform of his was definitely something that had to remain tucked safely away in a large plastic bag in the closet forevermore. It's not like he had a reason to wear it anymore, anyway.

A warm smile crossed his face as he thought of a dinner date with Karena, something he didn't try to hide.

Gabriel caught the young man daydreaming and gave him a knowing look. He knew that Balthasar had said no interfering, but he didn't say anything about pushing the two to go out and get to know each other better.

Walter composed himself and went up to his room to change, his step a bit lighter than usual. Whatever this 'Chinese food' was, he was eager to see what it tasted like.

Karena watched Walter go up the stairs and then turned to give Gabriel a look. "Shopping? I don't remember you going shopping."

"I don't sleep. Archangel and all that. So, I did some shopping. The internet isn't just for porn, apparently." Gabriel chuckled.



"The shipping, though..." Karena said, one eyebrow raised.

"Mah, the internet is a thing that can be manipulated. Not by mortals, or witches... but by archangels? Totally worth it. You'll like my selections, I hope." Gabriel replied.

Karena shot him a look. "As long as he doesn't look like a late 90s porn star - I've seen your concept of 'fashion', Gabe."

"Nothing of the sort! Now, go up and get yourself dressed; you don't want to disappoint your young man, do you?" Gabriel responded, lightly pushing Karena towards the stairs.

Dressed, brushed and made up, Karena exited her room at the most opportune time; Walter had finished his preparations and was coming down the hall, his face freshly shaved, hair pomaded and his familiar cologne pulling Karena close.

Walter's eyes widened at the woman in front of him. Though she was in pants, which wasn't his preference for women, he thought she looked very well put-together. She wore a perfume that smelled so familiar to him, but he could not place it.

"You look wonderful, Karena." he breathed, the temperature in the room seemingly warmer than it was a few minutes ago.


Walter stepped closer to Karena, his eyes now half-closed. "I mean it. Shall we?"

Karena's stomach flipped at the huskiness in Walter's voice. She was taken aback at the choice of clothing; Gabriel did do a good job, she thought.

"By all means. I'll drive, naturally. I know the way. If you pay attention, I might let you drive home."

The two descended the stairs to an applauding Gabriel, who could not contain his pleasure at the auric signatures he saw of the two, mingling together and causing new colors to form.

When the couple reached the hallway, Walter stopped and offered Karena his arm in an almost unconscious gesture. Gabriel continued to express his excitement; he knew tonight would be a turning point.

"Madam?" Walter asked, turning his head to look down at her.

Karena stared at Walter for a moment before taking the proffered arm and allowing herself to be escorted to her car; where Walter opened the driver's side door for her before settling himself in the passenger's seat.

The trip was short; Walter was certain he'd be able to remember the way home. It felt strange for him to be in the passenger seat while Karena drove. It wasn't something he liked, but he kept that to himself, as he noticed other women driving by themselves. The modern world was certainly different to him from what he was used to. He tried to imagine his mother or his sister driving a car and inwardly chuckled at the images the thought provoked.

He opened the door for Karena again, once they had parked, and offered his arm. They walked the short distance to the restaurant, Walter again opening the door.

"I'll order for us, Walter. I know it's not how you would do it on a date, but I know what I'm ordering." Karena said as she approached the counter.

"Máahnseuhng hóu, Ms. Ducharme! The usual tonight?" the young man at the counter said.

"Máahn ōn, Zhang Wei! For me, yes - This is my friend, Walter. He is new to Chinese, so please may we have the egg roll special for him?"

"Of course, Ms. Ducharme. Extra spicy for you, and for Mr. Walter - ?" Zhang Wei asked.

"White girl spicy, Zhang Wei." Karena said with a giggle.

Zhang Wei laughed as he called the order back to his mother in the kitchen in Cantonese. Walter had no idea what language was being spoken, but the musical undertones of the spoken word, along with the soft music playing in the background, and the smell of garlic, onions, ginger and other spices set his senses aflame. This was going to be an experience, he thought excitedly.

"Please, take a seat at your table, Ms. Ducharme. I will bring out your food to you when it is ready. Oolong or Gunpowder green tonight?" Zhang Wei asked.

"Ooh, gunpowder green, please. I haven't had that in ages." Karena said as she showed Walter to the table, smiling as Walter pulled out her chair before sitting down.

"Gods, Karena. This place smells amazing! What language was that young man... Za-hang Waiy? speaking?" Walter butchered the Cantonese with his German accent.

Karena giggled at Walter's pronunciation. It was not that far off, any dialect of Chinese was exceedingly difficult. She made mistakes quite a few times when she first moved to Twinbrook; she was excited to find a Chinese grocery near the laundromat in town and had made fast friends with the family that ran both it and Han's. They were very patient with her halting attempts at the language and her respect for their culture.

"Cantonese, Walter. It's a difficult language." she replied.

"How did you become friends with these people?" Walter asked, curious.

"I absolutely adore Chinese cuisine; though my tastes are more Sichuan and Hunan. I found a Chinese grocery here, and went there so often that I became friends with the family." Karena explained.

Zhang Wei approached the table, two steaming plates in his hands. "I will bring the tea in a moment; and mother has some fresh hot and sour soup - she wants you to have some as a last course; you know how she is." Zhang said, laughing.

"Oh definitely. She must have noticed the dark circles under my eyes last time I was at the store." Karena said.

"Indeed." Zhang said as he went back into the kitchen.

Walter eyed the strange deep-fried rolls on his plate. He understood the rice, but not these. Karena noticed his questioning look and smiled.

"Egg rolls, Walter. Like a large deep-fried noodle around cabbage, pork, other vegetables and spices. Try it plain before you try any of the sauces." Karena explained.

Cabbage and pork, that Walter understood. He tentatively took a small bite and was rewarded handsomely. He tried the next bite with something Karena had called duck sauce, which was definitely not duck, but sweet and slightly peppery. Now this, this "Broken sööt"  of sweet and savory, THIS he understood.

Karena tucked into her hot and spicy tofu rolls and smiled at Walter as he made small  sounds of enjoyment.

"Good?" she asked.

"Wonderful." Walter said.

Walter set down his fork for a moment and sipped at his tea.

"Karena? Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Karena replied.

"So, um... why did you stop talking to me about a year ago? Was it something I said?" Walter asked.

Karena set her own utensils down and reached for her tea.

"No.. well, yes and no. My ex had burned the communication board and most of the pictures I had of you that I hadn't hidden away. Most of the pictures of all of the people I spoke to via the board, in fact." Karena explained.

"He did what?" Walter gasped, shocked.

He knew that Karena's ex was an asshole; he and Karena had talked many times about it, and he had comforted her via the talking board.

"But you still had some of my pictures, right? Why did you stop talking to me if you had those pictures still?"



"Yes, I did. But I was afraid he'd destroy those, too. He was so jealous of you, and you didn't even occupy a body then." Karena explained, frowning.

Walter gave a dark chuckle. "Well, I do now, and it's the one I've had for a while. So, where's the bastard now?"

"Prison. Between the animal abuse, the domestic violence and the drug charges, he'll be there a while." Karena replied.

"Good riddance. Does he know where you are now?" Walter asked.

"Yeah, that's the problem. Gabriel says I have to be this pillar of society here in town, but what if he gets out? What's gonna happen then? I'm honestly scared, Walter. He's clearly psychopathic. We could all be in serious danger if he gets out." Karena said fearfully.

Walter felt his anger rise again. That damn archangel had better have done a good job keeping that asshole in prison, he thought. He had vowed to Balthasar that he'd not fall back into the warrior mentality he had been in in the past, but this knowledge made it hard for him to keep that promise.

'This doesn't make sense, Karena. Why would I have been reincarnated and brought here? Why didn't Grim and Gabriel just... teleport us to a different town?" Walter asked, curious.

Karena could understand Walter's frustration. She was angry, too. Gabriel or Grim could have easily winked Sean out of existence, rather than merely rig the justice system to get him put away 'for a long time' as Grim had told her.

"I don't know. I mean, neither of us should be here. I wasn't planning on continuing my existence in this life, not until Grim and Gabriel showed up and did what they did. I didn't even know they'd bring you here." Karena said.

"Suicide? Why? You know they don't go to the same place as... How could you even... what about the horses, and the cat?" Walter whispered, an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I know. I was in pain, and I wasn't thinking straight. The bastard had destroyed nearly everything I loved, brought me to my lowest point and I didn't see another way. I am so glad that Gabriel and Grim showed up; I'm eternally grateful to them." Karena murmured.


"I can understand that, Karena. But... you still seem sad, and angry. Is this about the biography? That appendix on... my mistress. It was so cold and formal. Why?" asked Walter.

"I am disappointed, Walter, and angry, yes. I kept that appendix formal and dry for a reason, and a damned good one. I only had a few letters from Siegfried on the subject, and what he had seen, personally." Karena replied.



"Why are you so protective of Collette? I don't get it. I'm, confused, Karena. I think there's more to this." Walter argued.

Karena sighed at the man in front of her. "It was too hard to write any other way. I wish you'd understand."

Walter heard the pain in her voice and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just.. you never said what happened to her."

Their conversation was interrupted by Zhang Wei placing a large bowl of hot and sour soup in the middle of the table, with two spoons.

"Mother says you both should have this; it is not as spicy as you like it, Ms. Ducharme, but enough for balancing both your energies."

"Thank you, Zhang Wei. Give your mother our deepest thanks as well." Karena said as the young man smiled and left the table.

The couple's conversation was quiet enough that no-one else heard it; but his mother was a canny sort and had noticed the body language between the two people and had suggested they both share the soup. "They have both Yang energy that needs calming." she had explained to her son. "Hers water, his fire. Neither belongs with Rabbit or Ox." Zhang Wei had no idea how his mother knew that the man seated across from Ms. Ducharme was born in the year of the Ox, but as he studied him from the counter, he could see the ox-like build, the curly hair, the short, thick neck. He bet his next paycheck his mom was right. She was always right.

"I.. I can't tell you yet. You're not ready." Karena said as the two ate their soup from the common bowl in the middle of the table.

"Why?" Walter asked. The soup looked horrible with bits of everything floating in it, strange items he didn't know or understand, but Karena ate it with relish, so he did as well, not to offend the owners of the restaurant.

Karena sighed and reached for her tea, only to have her hand stopped by Walter. She allowed him to hold her hand for a bit, feeling the strength emanate from him.

"I wish you'd tell me, dear. I... I've been on the internet. I've read what happened to collaborators. Is that what happened to Collette?" Walter asked, lightly squeezing her hand. He was amazed at how delicate her hands were, especially after seeing her do work that no woman he'd known do. She was an odd combination of strong and soft, and Walter felt this.... strange feeling inside him. He wanted to keep her safe, no matter what.

Karena pulled back from him, and he felt the separation acutely, but did not show it outwardly.

"Look. In the back of the photo album, there's a letter from Heinz Baer, your old friend. He visited Collette last, before the end of the war. It will tell you more. The rest, well, you'll have to figure out on your own. Let's settle the bill and go home. I'm tired." Karena said.

She knew that the information the letter had wasn't the full story, but she figured Walter was smart enough to put the rest together. She was still mad at him, and her past self, for falling for a man who had no intent of permanency other than a wartime fling. The fact that her shit luck in love had carried over into this lifetime; and now the very man who started that shit was in front of her... stirred emotions she thought long dead. How could she both hate him for what he did and at the same time, want to cling to him so hard, begging him to never let her go? The whole thing made her meal sit poorly in her stomach.

Walter stared into space as Karena got up and paid Zhang Wei for their meal, talking briefly in a combination of fractured Cantonese and English to Zhang Wei's mother about a delivery of herbs she had been waiting for. He knew that what he had done to Collette was wrong; that he had left her and never contacted her afterward. There were other, darker, things that he had done that he was both relieved that weren't in the biography and scared that they'd be found out. It seemed you could find damn near anything on the internet, and with the popularity of his biography, they were bound to come out sooner than later. He wondered how Karena would see him when those things came to light.

It had been a little less than a week, here in the living world, but he and Karena had known each other for a very long time, via the talking board. They had shared many secrets and moments together. He was beginning to develop some confusing feelings for the thoroughly contradictory woman, and was worried that his past actions would be held against him.

He finished his tea and offered his arm to Karena, escorting her gently out of the restaurant and this time, into the passenger seat of the car. She handed him her keys and told him to stay under the speed limit. Thank god she preferred a manual transmission, he thought, as he drove the compact Volkswagen back to their house.

The car safely in the driveway, Karena went upstairs to draw a bath, contemplative. Walter stayed downstairs, making himself a cup of tea. He opened the office door, bringing his tea, the photo album, and the biography with him for further study. Neither of them saw Gabriel, and assumed he was out on the town again, gathering information for Karena to use later on at her readings, or to relay to Balthasar.

Karena sank into the bath, her mood lower than it had been in a long time. She had been enjoying the date until Walter had pressed the subject of Collette. She felt that he, too, wasn't telling everything he knew about the affair. Siegfried had been rather cagey at times when she was questioning him about his old Kommodore; as if there was something that even he didn't want the public to know about his famous boss. As far as she knew per records, he wasn't a card-carrying Nazi like Rudel; but some English sources labeled him as a hedonist, a pretty boy who'd rather play all day than be serious. She had dismissed it as jealousy and typical of the era. But what if she was wrong?

In the office, Walter was poring through the biography again, flipping through the pages. He left it open on the appendix and thumbed through the photo album, looking for the letter Karena said she had from his old friend, Heinz Baer. Finding it, he read it twice before his guilty mind made the connection.

Karena tried to sleep, her mind awash with memories of her past. She tossed and turned, muttering in French in her sleep, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh, Gott. Gott in Himmel. Heinz, you son of a bitch." Walter moaned into his hands. He felt another piece of paper tucked into the pocket of the album and removed a small, brown envelope. Opening it, he scanned the contents before dropping his face into his hands, great sobs racking his body. Karena didn't need to tell him anymore, he knew. He knew. He had left her, unprotected. He had been killed, and left her all alone. Time had no way of being measured in the afterlife, so when she had rejoined him, he did not know what year it was. Now, he did.

Upstairs, a far worse scenario was playing out in Karena's dreams....

It's the boche's whore! Where's your boche pimp now, eh? Not so pretty and smug anymore, are we, Collette?" sneered Jean, now head of the Free French Liberation Society.

The other men gathered  in a circle around Collete, jeering and throwing insults.

"Nazi whore! Eating like a queen while we starved around you! Spreading your legs for that boche!" screamed the women.

Collete ran through the streets, her feet bare, her hair wild, tears blurring her vision. She was caught in an alley, roughed up by the women, who scratched at her and tore her clothing from her. Her hair was cut close to her head, a sign was hung around her neck, and some of the men.... some of the men....

Karena tossed and turned in her sleep as she relived the horrible end of her prior life. She tried to wake up, but the nightmare had the reins and was riding her to her own terrifying end.

The back of the bar, the newly christened Place de la Liberation, the hastily erected scaffold....the taunts, the insults, the rough stone of the cobbles against her knees...

and the end, looming there, the stench of prior victims lingering.... the roughness of hemp around her neck, the splinters of the wooden chair on her feet, the crowd of jubilant townspeople singing the Marseillaise, the rough hands of the local policeman, the sudden drop....blackness.



Karena woke from her nightmare, screaming in terror, her voice not wholly hers, a torrent of French falling from her lips in lamentation.

Walter heard the scream and ran up the stairs two at a time, bursting through the door to see Karena sitting up, sobbing into her hands and babbling hysterically in French. Rushing to her side, he took her in his arms and tried to comfort her. What she said next shook him to his core.

"Non, non non non non! Mon âme, sauvez-moi! Pourquoi tu m'abandonner? Mon cher, mon p'tit rougeaud!"  Karena sobbed in a voice that was not wholly of this lifetime. Walter nearly dropped her when the realization hit him. Tears running down both of their faces, he held her tightly, his next words choked with sorrow.

"Oh Gott..... Collette..... Collette!"