Past Lives

“Your daughter is… Unique.”

Miss Emily’s eyes darted between Mr. and Mrs. Rigby as she landed on the euphemism with a heavy tone.

A heavier silence followed.

As Mr. Rigby cleared his throat to speak, his wife turned to watch their daughter playing, a smile never leaving her face.

“She certainly is,” he said, an eyebrow raised.

“Our very special little girl,” Mrs. Rigby added, still fixed on the current showing at the puppet theatre.

“Has she been misbehaving?” asked Mr. Rigby.

“Oh, no,” Miss Emily responded quickly. “No, she’s very good. Excellent manners. A leader among her classmates, really.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” he said, chest puffing slightly. “But I don’t suppose you called us here to tell us she’s uniquely polite?”

“Ehm, no… Not exactly…” She looked at her folded hands. “Ellen has a… very… vivid imagination…”

He cleared his throat again and nodded, shifting in his seat.

“Isn’t it incredible?” Mrs. Rigby finally faced the teacher again, glowing with pride. “What I wouldn’t give to live in such a rich world. It certainly wouldn’t hurt my writing!”

She laughed and looked to her husband, placing a hand on his knee. He flashed her a quick grin and returned to the meeting.

Miss Emily smiled, then opened her hands. “Yes, well… That’s actually what I’d like to discuss. Ellen… Doesn’t seem to believe it’s fantasy. While it’s perfectly natural for a child to live quite deeply in their fantasy life – and of course it’s important to encourage that! It’s so important to nurture that ability now.”

She paused for emphasis. The Rigbys sat motionless.

“Well... This week we welcomed a new student to our class. A little girl named Rebecca. Very sweet. Her family just moved here from Canada. Her father's a physicist and her mother makes the loveliest knittings…”

The Rigbys stared. Her smile faded.

“You get the idea. Well, unfortunately the morning she arrived there was a bit of an incident. As we introduced her to the class, Ellen jumped up suddenly and called her by a different name… “Ingrid,” I believe she said, as if greeting an old friend. Then she walked right up to Rebecca and embraced her! When she released, she introduced herself as her - uh, Ingrid’s brother, Amery. We were all quite surprised…”

“Oh, Henry!” Mrs. Rigby covered her mouth and looked at her husband.

Miss Emily continued. “After some confusion, Rebecca became quite upset. She’s rather intensely shy. It took a while to calm her down. Ellen tried comforting her by explaining more, but it only upset her further. I asked Ellen to go play with the other children while I sat with Rebecca. She seemed stunned, and though she walked away she only watched us from across the room, quite concerned.”

Henry spoke to Miss Emily’s desk. “I… I’m not sure what to tell you, Miss Emily. It seems Ellen was quite deep in her imagination, as you say. I’m sorry the girl was upset, but I see no harm done.”

“Well, unfortunately Rebecca’s parents are also a bit upset. After telling them what happened, Rebecca seemed to slip into some confusion about her identity. Ever since, she’s had difficulty responding when called, and sometimes she names things with unusual or nonsense words, though her parents claim to have identified some as German…”

“Oh Miss Emily, I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Rigby was on the verge of tears. Henry looked pale. She added: “We’ve warned her about sharing her visions…”

“Maggie,” Henry hissed, “they're not visions.”

She stared at him.

Miss Emily interjected. “It sounds like this is not entirely a surprise to you?”

Both parents looked as deer caught in the headlights.

Maggie finally spoke. “Ellen… Has always had an… astonishing curiosity... She started speaking very early, and asking many, many questions… In particular, she’s always been fixated on the night sky… Even when she was still in my arms…”

Miss Emily nodded. “Yes, I understand. We noticed very quickly in here too, of course. She’s extremely bright. One day she said, ‘music and numbers are languages everybody knows,’ and I was quite speechless for several seconds. She’s six. I’ve never heard any six-year-old speak like that.”

She watched them an extra moment as if awaiting a sudden confession.

“But there's more,” she continued. “This week during playtime, one boy stood up to share that his family loved Jesus. Ellen then began explaining that she once fought for a man named Jesus, but in her last moments ‘when she saw all the blood and sadness’ she ‘knew that it wasn’t about the man.’”

Maggie clutched her husband’s arm. “She was a crusader?!”

“Maggie!” Henry turned. “It’s not real!”

“How do you explain this? Where could she get these things?!”

Miss Emily cut in. “Other parents have brought concerns to me, as well. The other children have been sharing Ellen’s stories at home, even making up their own ‘past lives.’ I know we walk a thin line between nurturing fantasy and healthy reality… Ellen seems to be having a particularly difficult time between both – which is not entirely abnormal – but… it’s causing a ripple effect that's raising some concern…”

“Oh Lord,” Maggie covered her face with her hands.

Henry spoke. “We truly apologize, Miss Emily. But what do we do? We’ve explained to her that these things are fantasy… She’s a very bright girl! She learns incredibly quickly! I don’t know how to get through to her…”

Miss Emily took a deep breath. “I think Ellen should speak with a children’s psychologist.”

* * * * * *

Upon leaving their meeting with Miss Emily, Henry parted ways with Maggie and Ellen and returned to work.

The girls climbed into the new, powder-blue Fiat 1100. Ellen marvelled at a seagull flying overhead before dutifully taking her seat in the back.

Maggie went to turn the key, then paused. “We need to stop by the store on the way home, darling. Would you like to get a treat?”

“Yeah!” Ellen replied, beaming.

The drive to the store was not long, but they travelled in silence. As they parked, Ellen leaned hard toward the window for a better view.

Maggie took no notice. “Come along, dear.” She stuck out her hand.

Ellen grabbed it absently, still watching the store front doors.

She moved quickly to keep up with her mother as they walked, a hurried pace she’d become accustomed to from their regular outings together. Though her feet raced beneath her, she gave no hint of exertion.

Nearing the entrance, Maggie realized Ellen was watching a homeless man sitting against the store front, a ragged sign next to him with a roughly written “hungry.”

As they crossed the threshold and were out of sight, Maggie tugged Ellen closer. “It’s not polite to stare,” she whispered sharply.

Ellen blinked, returning to reality. “Mommy… Can we give that man some monies?”

“Oh, no dear,” Maggie shook her head.

“Why?”

“Well… We don’t know what he’ll use it for, darling. Sometimes people use money for bad or… naughty things.”

“Like what?”

“Well… Um…” Maggie searched for the words, “things that are harmful. That can hurt people. Even themselves.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because… It makes them feel better. Now what would you like for a treat?” She hoped to put an end to the questioning.

“So… He has to feel bad?” Ellen frowned, confused.

“N-no… No, darling. You’ll understand when you’re older. It's just not a good idea. Now please pick what you want so we can go home. I’ll meet you at the checkout.”

Maggie carried her few items toward the front. As she approached, the cashier – a young woman with dazzling freckles – greeted her warmly.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Rigby. How are you today?”

“Hello, Miss Patty, I’m well. How are you? How is your mother doing these days?”

“Oh she’s alright,” the checker replied. “She had a rough bout of the flu last week, but seems she’s much better now.” Her hands grabbed each item effortlessly.

“That’s what I’d heard! I’m relieved to hear she’s on the mend.” Maggie smiled, then her expression quickly changed. “Goodness! What’s all that?”

Ellen had returned with a formidable wheel of cheese. Though it appeared rather unwieldy for the little girl, she carried it with purpose.

“This is what I want,” she answered.

“I, oh… Darling…” Maggie glanced back at Patty, who was grinning at Ellen. “Alright, but you can’t just eat it all, you know. That’s a lot of cheese.”

“I know,” said Ellen, undaunted.

As they finished their checkout, Ellen stationed herself next to the bagging area. When the cheese was through, she reached out her hands.

“Can I have it? Please? Can I have it now?”

“Oh… Sure.” Maggie nodded at Patty, who awaited her response. Patty happily helped Ellen reclaim her prize. “Here you are!”

“Thank you!” said Ellen, intensely focused on regaining a good grip.

As Maggie grabbed the rest of the groceries and thanked Miss Patty, Ellen – now with a commanding hold of the cheese – suddenly took off, running with a precarious gait that seemed in danger of falling completely forward at any moment.

“Wha- Ellen!” Maggie scrambled after her. “What are you doing?! Stop!”

In moments she’d caught up to Ellen, breathless to find the girl had run straight to the homeless man outside. “Ellen what are you–?”

“Here you go!” Ellen hoisted the sizable wheel over to the man, beaming with enormous pride. “This is for you!”

The man was stunned for a moment, eyes wide at the mass being handed him. Then he grinned up at Ellen, his face instantly years younger as he revealed a few missing teeth. “Ohh, thank you! Thank you very much!”

“You’re welcome!” said Ellen as her mother quickly took up her hand.

“Oh um… Y-yes…" Maggie nodded. "Please, do enjoy.” She forced a smile.

“God bless you beautiful ladies! Have a blessed day!” He exclaimed.

“You too,” Maggie said over her shoulder, heels click-clicking rapidly on the pavement as Ellen fought to keep up.

“Ellen, I didn’t know you were going to do that. You did not ask me if you could do that,” she whispered harshly.

“I know,” said Ellen, now less confident. “But you told me to pick what I wanted and that was what I wanted.”

“I meant something that you wanted to eat. I didn’t come here today to pay for other mouths to be fed.”

They reached the car. Ellen climbed into the backseat in a daze. She looked perplexed.

“But… If he’s hungry, we’re all hungry mommy…”

Maggie threw her purse across the front seat and settled into the car, jabbing the key into the ignition.

Then she slowed.

“What… Did you say?”

“But if he’s happy, we’re all happy!” Ellen cheered, confidence renewed, arms shooting victoriously skyward.

Maggie stared at the dash, frozen for a moment. Recovering, she turned the engine over and put the car in reverse. Only a few hours left before dinnertime.

* * * * * *

The Rigby’s sat quietly around the dinner table.

Maggie smiled as she spooned servings of hotpot onto each dish. The smell of steaming meat and root vegetables filled the room.

Ellen watched eagerly, giving an emphatic “mmm!” as her dish returned to her.

Henry was stoic, waiting for his serving patiently.

“There you are. Eat up, my loves,” said Maggie, finally seating herself.

“Smells delicious, dear,” said Henry, lifting a spoonful to his mouth. He contemplated the bite. “Something different this time?”

“Oh yes!” Maggie replied. “The parsnips were finally ready today. I just plucked them this afternoon!”

“Lovely,” he said.

“I lve prsnps!” Ellen said through a mouthful. She swallowed. “I remember they are hard to grow. I tried and tried. And tried and tried! I think it was too hot. I was not a good gardener.”

She worked for another spoonful, chasing a carrot across the small expanse.

Maggie and Henry exchanged silent glances before returning to their food.

Maggie cleared her throat. “Ellen did a very kind thing today,” she announced.

“Oh? What was that?” Henry asked.

“She gave a homeless man her treat from the store.”

“Her treat, eh?” He looked mildly amused. “What was it?”

“A big wheel of cheese!” Ellen declared.

He dropped his spoon. “Cheese? A wheel of cheese? Margaret,” his face flushed, “How could you–?”

The phone rang. Maggie – a thin-lipped smile tight on her face – stared back at Henry.

“We’ll return to this,” he threw his napkin to the table and rose to get the phone.

“Yes, hello?” He answered brusquely.

Maggie looked over at Ellen. She was staring back at her mother.

“Am I in trouble?” Ellen asked.

“No, darling,” Maggie shook her head, prodding her food. “It’s fine. Eat your supper.”

“I see. Tomorrow then,” Henry carried on, further away. “Yes. That’s fine. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and returned to the table.

“Who was that, dear?” Maggie asked.

“They’re sending someone to speak with Ellen tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh.” She glanced at Ellen.

“With me?” Ellen sat up. “Why? Am I in trouble? Because the cheese?”

“No, no,” Maggie said quickly. “They… Someone is… They want to…”

“They want to talk to you about your stories,” Henry cut in gruffly, diligent again with his dinner.

“Yes,” said Maggie. “Your stories. You have so many, darling. They are curious to meet such an imaginative little girl!”

“Oh,” said Ellen, returning to her food only to poke at it. “But I’m… It’s not inmaginatative…” she added solemnly.

“Yes it is,” Henry’s fist lightly pounded the table. “We’ve talked about this, Ellen. Your stories are not real. You must understand this, otherwise you’re being a liar.”

“Henry!” Maggie said.

“You know it’s the truth, Maggie!” he defended.

“I’m not a liar!” Ellen said through tears, pushing from the table and running from the room.

“Ellen!” Maggie called after her. She slapped her napkin on the table and stood up.

“She’s just a little girl, Henry,” she spoke angrily. “She has her whole life to face the rest of the world crushing her creativity and mocking her ideas.”

She hurried after Ellen.

“Better she wake up to it now,” he grumbled into his dish.

* * * * * *

Doctor Walter McKenzie arrived the next day at precisely 2:30pm. At his curt three raps upon the front door, Maggie quickly appeared to greet him.

“Good afternoon. Mrs. Rigby, I presume?”

“Yes, hello. You may call me Maggie. You must be Doctor McKenzie?”

“That I am.” He replied with a smile. “Please, call me Walt.”

“Um, sure. Please come in.”

Dr. McKenzie entered the Rigby’s home with an air of intense curiosity. His eyes scanned and evaluated every object in the room, as if hoping to spot a malignant anomaly. So lost in evaluation was he that Maggie stopped and stared at him for few moments before she decided to interrupt.

“Could I get you some tea?” she asked.

“You keep a lovely home,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Oh… thank you,” she said.

“Very tidy. No obvious signs of chaos or disarray here. Though I’m sure with little Ellen running around, it must get a bit wild sometimes, eh?” He winked.

“Well, no actually. She’s really quite mild-mannered. And very helpful. She often helps me with the chores around the house.”

“How lovely!” He exaggerated his delight. “What with all that fantasy I’ve heard she lives in, it’s a wonder she manages to get anything done.” He beamed.

“Um… Yes, I suppose…”

“Where is our girl now? Could I meet her?”

“Oh, of course,” said Maggie. “She’s just out playing in the garden. I’ll tell her to come in–”

“Perfect! No need. I’ll just go and join her in playtime.”

“Oh, alright. Sure… The door’s right this way…”

She led Doctor McKenzie through the kitchen and out to the garden.

“Darling, Ellen, this is Doc-”

“I’ll take it from here, Madam. Much obliged!” He knelt in front of Ellen. “Hello there, miss Ellen. I’m Doctor McKenzie. But you can call me Walt.”

Maggie stood stunned for a moment. Then, meeting Ellen’s equally stunned gaze, gave her a smile and a nod and backed away toward the kitchen.

“Lovely day, isn’t it Ellen? What is it you’re playing out here…?” She heard him say as she neared the house.

Maggie took a seat in the breakfast nook, returning to her tea, which was now cold.

She watched Dr. McKenzie and Ellen through the window, hoping to read their body language. Ellen seemed rather stiff, she observed, edging away slightly every time Dr. McKenzie appeared to make a warm gesture.

She usually responded well to other adults, Maggie noted. Only one other time had she ever seen Ellen react to someone this way, and it was during that visit to Great Aunt Winifred’s. Though she was only two at the time, she had hidden behind Maggie and clutched her skirt, periodically reaching out her hands, saying, “blood! Blood!” Sweet Aunt Winifred could do nothing to console her, the poor thing. Treats, toys, stories, songs… Ellen refused to be left alone with her.

It was an enormously uncomfortable weekend.

Maggie took another sip of tea. Dr. McKenzie seemed to have resigned in joining Ellen’s play, and now sat back against a garden box, his own demeanour a bit stiffer.

Actually, the energy had shifted significantly between them now, she realized. It seemed less that he was asking her patronizing questions and more that she was telling him things he was having trouble processing.

Once, she saw him appear to laugh something off, only to become serious when Ellen spoke again.

It seemed the tension was rising. She decided to check on them.

Setting down her tea, she looked up to find that Dr. McKenzie had already gotten to his feet and was bidding Ellen farewell, turning quickly on his heel and making a hasty return to the house.

She opened the door for him.

“Doctor McKenzie, is everything alright?”

His face was lightly flushed. “Oh just fine, Madam,” he said with a wave and the same squinted smile, though his pace didn’t slow. She barely moved aside in time for him to come through the door.

“Well, um… How did it go?” She asked, regaining composure.

He was gathering up his coat and briefcase. “Interesting. Very, very interesting.”

“‘Interesting?’ Is that… Good?” She pressed.

“I’ll be writing a full report on our time today,” he answered. He placed his hat on his head and gave her a nod. “You’ll be hearing from me, Miss Maggie. I’ll see myself out.”

He turned for the door and was quickly through, closing it hard behind him.

Maggie stared a moment, at a loss. She turned back to the garden and found Ellen watching her from the doorway.

“Oh, Ellen!” Maggie knelt down, her arms outspread. Ellen rushed into them and clung to her. “Are you alright? What happened? What did he say to you?” She thought a moment. “What did you say to him?”

“I did not like him, mommy,” Ellen cried into her scarf.

“Oh I’m so sorry, darling. Don’t worry, my love, he’s gone now. Let me make you some tea.”

Several minutes later, Ellen had calmed down, a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of her and a partially nibbled biscuit in her hand.

Maggie sipped her own fresh cup, watching her daughter with a sympathetic smile.

“Feeling a little better now?” She asked.

Ellen nodded.

“Oh good. How’s the biscuit?”

“Vry gd,” she answered.

“Perfect.” She smiled again. “Well, what do you think? Are you ready to tell me what happened?”

Ellen’s chewing slowed, then she nodded, solemn this time.

“Alright,” said Maggie. “I’m ready when you are.”

Ellen finished her bite and swallowed, thinking a moment. “He asked me lots of things. About my playtime. And my stories… I didn’t feel good when he was there. He asked me why I was afraid of him…”

“What did you say?”

“He didn’t like what I told him,” Ellen said darkly.

“Well, that much I already know dear! What was it?”

“I said… I told him that I knew him. From… Another life…” She searched her mother for any disapproval, then continued. “I told him that he was a… a god man…”

Margaret puzzled. “Do you mean… A man of god?”

“Yes,” said Ellen. “He was a big man in a church. But he was not good. He was very bad to children. He made very many of them cry.”

A shockwave raced up Maggie’s spine. Her hands began to shake and she set her cup down as lightly as possible.

Ellen continued. “Then he… he laughed at me. He asked ‘where do you get these ideas?’ and said I had a good fantasy. I told him it was not fantasy. I told him that he is still doing the work with the children because his soul is sad. It is trying to make things better.”

“Oh, Ellen…” Maggie’s voice trembled.

“I told him… I told him that heaven and hell are right now, and for all of us at the same time, and what we do makes which one is stronger, and in his old life he did the things for hell but now his soul wants to be better, because it knows we keep coming back to live with what our past lifes did, no matter what!”

She slammed her hand on the table, rattling her teacup. She was crying again, and covered her face with her hands.

Maggie rushed from her chair and put her arms around Ellen.

“Oh my sweet, brave girl,” she said, closing her eyes. Tears streamed from them, running down her cheeks to Ellen’s hair. She wiped them from her face with one hand, and forced a smile.

“Well… I can certainly see why he found that hard to hear!” She gave a small laugh and squeezed Ellen tighter.

* * * * * *

A few days later, Ellen was sent to play up in her room after dinner while her parents had a discussion downstairs.

Henry had received a call from Dr. McKenzie and discussed at length the treatment options for Ellen’s diagnosis.

“You must be joking!” Maggie fired back at her husband, outraged.

“It’s an extremely simple procedure, Maggie. Very straightforward. There are some real success stories from its use.”

“Henry… She’s a six-year-old little girl… And your daughter…”

“Yes, honey, I understand. But the stories, Maggie. The stories! You know they’re already out of control. What happens when she’s fully living in a reality that’s completely fractured from the real one? What kind of psychosis could that create!?”

“Oh really, Henry. Seriously? When have her ‘stories’ ever caused any real harm?”

“The kindergarten? The other parents? Have you forgotten? Doctor McKenzie said she told him some very disturbing things.”

“Oh Doctor McKenzie got a good dose of a wakeup call from a little girl and his ego couldn’t handle it!” She was furious. “She’s a perfectly wonderful, amazing little girl! How could you even think to do such a horrific thing to your own daughter? A lobotomy?!”

“Doctor McKenzie assured me it’s a safe procedure. It only takes but a few minutes. Then… Good as new.”

“‘Good as new?!’ They shock people with electricity to make them unconscious, Henry!”

“Maggie, they’ve performed it on thousands of patients now. It’s the peak of current procedures for the mentally unsound.”

She stabbed her finger into his chest. “This, Henry, this is mentally unsound. I can’t believe we’re even discussing this! No. Absolutely not. We are not going through with this.”

Henry sighed heavily and stared at the floor. “Well… I’m sorry you feel that way. But I’ve already confirmed the appointment. She’s going in next Saturday.”

“You did what?!”

“I’m the last word on this. I’ve made the appointment. It’s for Ellen’s own good. You’ll both thank me for this someday.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“Maggie!”

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door. She raced up to Ellen’s room and entered abruptly.

“Ellen,” she wiped away tears, “Ellen, darling, grab your coat, we’re going out for a bit.”

“Mommy are you crying?” Ellen asked, shaken by the sudden entrance.

“It’s just… Just some sneezes dear. I’m fine. Hurry please, we must be off.”

Ellen jumped up quickly and grabbed her coat, reaching for her mother’s outstretched hand as they left the room. They shuffled hurriedly down the stairs toward the living room, where Henry was waiting.

“Maggie… Maggie, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“We’re going out for a bit, Henry. Away. Away from here. Do look after the roses, won’t you?” She slammed the door behind her and led Ellen to the car.

The Fiat’s engine turned over and they quickly sped from the driveway. It was raining considerably and they splashed through numerous puddles.

Maggie intermittently wiped tears from her cheeks, doing her best to hide the sound of her sniffles.

“Mommy…?” Ellen ventured. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yes, darling. Yes I’m fine. Forgive me for the hasty departure, my love. Sometimes when it’s time to go, it’s time!” She forced a chuckle.

Ellen sat silent for a moment. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, well… You know? Just… On an adventure! Doesn’t that sound like fun? We’re off on an adventure!”

“Is Doctor McKenzie going to be there?” Ellen asked cautiously.

“Oh, no, no. No. There will be no more of him, thank you very much.”

“Okay,” Ellen eased back into her seat. “That’s good.”

They drove in silence for a long time. The road stretched on and on. The rain never ceased.

As her heart rate eased and her thoughts reconvened, Maggie began to realize the gravity of the situation.

Where were they going to go? Where that they wouldn’t be found?

She and Henry had been together so long… He knew all of her friends and family, anywhere she might run.

And if they didn’t return soon enough, he'd report them as missing. Then more people would look for them.

And where could they ever hide that a little girl with inexplicable otherworldly wisdom and visions of past lives wouldn’t stand out like a fawn in a field of wolves?

“Wolves. Nothing but wolves,” she said suddenly.

“Mommy?” Ellen inquired from the back seat.

In the infrequent passing of street lamps, Maggie could see her daughter sitting bright-eyed in the back seat though the rear-view mirror. She smiled at her.

“This world isn’t ready for you, darling. For us,” she said quietly.

They were driving along the sea cliffs now, the wind blowing the car around in its lane as the waves crashed hard far below the drop to their left.

“I love you, my little wonderful Miss Ellen,” Maggie said.

“I love you too, mommy,” Ellen returned.

Maggie was sobbing again. She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

“I hope that, in our next lives, they will listen to us.”

She jerked the wheel hard to the left. Within seconds the tires had left the earth.

They were flying.

They were falling.

Darkness.