Passage of the Midnight Cry

Forrest House looked distorted to Kaycee Rego through the rain-splattered windshield of her mother’s Chevy Blazer. Grandma Krissy died and left this pre-civil war home, located in Savannah, Georgia to Kaycee's mother. They parked in front of the colonial house and they proceeded to unload their luggage. Kaycee slung her backpack over her shoulder and thumped her suitcase up the wooden stairs to the veranda. The caretaker, Ms. Doris Cook, greeted them at the front door.

     “Welcome Mrs. Rego to Forrest House.”

     “It’s Ms. Forrest. I’m using my maiden name now.”

     “Of course. Please enter through the carriage entrance.”

     They entered and Kaycee marveled at the colonial furnished home with its oak floors and English lamps and vases.

     Doris showed them around then said, “Trash pick-up is on Tuesday, and street- cleaning is on Wednesday. I hoped you liked the place, I know I never did. Here are the keys.” 

     The next day, Kaycee helped unpack the boxes that the movers brought in. As she admired the beauty of her new home, her cellphone vibrated. Dad again. She touched ‘Decline’ and erased him.

     Kaycee moved into her upstairs bedroom and that night, she ventured onto the widow walk’s porch. The moonlight caused her to think of her parent's divorce. Her mom accepted a night shift position at a local hospital as a registered nurse and her dad stayed in San Diego with the other woman. Why did he leave us? I thought he loved me.

     Kaycee remembered the gifts her Dad brought her whenever he came home from his business trips as a marketing consultant. Then came the yelling and slapping and breaking of glass. This screwed-up mess. Why Dad? She wanted them to stop. Just stop! Mom cried in her bedroom while Dad stormed out to a local motel. Kaycee went back to bed, curled herself into a ball, and felt her tears wet her pillow.

     The next morning Kaycee busied herself hanging her clothes when she noticed a trap door on the closet floor. Curious, she lifted the heavy wooden door by a rope handle and flopped it over. She could make out stairs descending into a dark hole. With her smartphone light on, she placed her foot unto the first step then paused. Why can’t Dad be here?

     Down she went. The stairs ended at the mouth of a tunnel. Kaycee believed she must be below ground level. She followed the tunnel, lined with bricks until it ended at an oak door with black iron hinges. The locked door refused to budge when she tried to open it.

    What do I do now? Kaycee knocked three times on the door. This is stupid. Nobody has been down here for a hundred years.

    Boom, boom, boom! The door knocked on the other side. Startled, Kaycee jumped back.

    Boom, boom, boom! Boom, boom, boom! Boom, boom, boom!

     Kaycee sprinted away and faced the door. Her heart raced and she found it hard to breathe. The door pounding stopped. She just stood there not knowing what to do. Then Kaycee heard a girl’s muffled voice from behind the door.

    “Hello. Is anybody there? Hello.”

     Kaycee summoned her courage and moved closer. “Hello.”

     “I can barely hear you,” the girl said. Open that peephole. You see it there in the middle.”

     Kaycee found the peephole door and opened it. Behind it, she could see part of a girl's face lit by torchlight. “Who are you? Do you need help?”

     “I was about to ask you the same thing. You scared the Dickens out of me. I didn’t expect anyone down here.”

     The Georgian accent sounded pleasant to Kaycee. “Yeah me too. By the way, my name is Kaycee.”

     “Nice to meet your acquaintance, Miss Kaycee.”

     “What’s your name?”

     “Victoria, but you may call me Vicky.”

     “Are you stuck in there? How did you get here?”

     “I’m not stuck. I found a trap door in my bedroom… down some stairs and a tunnel. It led me here talking to you.”

     “That’s strange. That’s exactly how I got here.”

     “You don’t say? Enough talk. Open the darn door.”

     “I don’t have a key. Don’t you have one?”

     “Nope. Can’t say that I do. Let me think.”

     Kaycee heard Vicky fiddling with the lock. She looked through the peephole but just saw a flame lit tunnel. After several minutes, Vicky’s face popped back into view.

     Vicky said, “It’s no use. It’s shut tighter than a saloon on Sunday.”

     Kaycee tried hard not to laugh. “What do we do now?”

     “Listen. I need to find a hideout. The Yankees are coming and I was hoping this here tunnel would lead to a safe place.”

     “Yankees? You mean the New York Yankees?”

     “What? How do I know where they're from? All I know is General Sherman and his Blue-Bellies are on their way here. Those scalawags will steal and loot anything they’ll get their grimy hands-on.”

     “Vicky, I don’t know what you are talking about? General Sherman? Are you kidding me?”

     “Darling, aren’t you scared of them there Yankees?

     At this point, Kaycee thought that Vicky might be mentally ill. There is no way she ever would open the door now. Poor girl. “Ah, Vicky, it’s nice talking with you but I need to go now.”

     “Wait, don’t go. When are you coming back?”

     “I don’t know? Maybe tomorrow. I’ll see.”

     “Wait, before you go, tell me what it’s like over there. Which house do you live in? I lived in Savannah all my life and I never know any Miss Kaycee.”

     “That’s because I just moved here.”

     “Moved. Moved from where?”

     “San Diego.”

     “San Diego? Where, in blazes, is San Diego?”

     “You don’t know? It’s in California.”

     “California! That’s a Union state. Don’t tell me you’re a Yankee too?”

     “No, it’s okay. I lived in Southern California.” Kaycee wanted to humor her. “Listen, I don’t think you’re feeling well. Are you part of a Civil War reenactment organization or something?

     “Why do you say that?”

     “Because you keep talking about the Yankees like it was the Civil War or something.”

     “That’s the War for Southern Independence, Yankee.”

     “I’m not a Yankee.”

     “You sure talk like one.”

     She lost it. Kaycee then got an idea. “What year do you think it is anyway? What is today's date?

     Vicky’s face showed frustration. “It’s December 1^st, 1864, Miss smarty pants. What year do you think it is?”

     “Vicky, would you please stand back so I can get a good look at you?”

     “Why?”

     “I want to see what you are wearing.” Vicky took a few steps back. There in the flickering light, Kaycee saw a girl with brown hair styled in a bun on the back of her head, covered with lace. Her thin waist fanned out into a hooped dress that almost touched the floor. She wore puffed sleeves and a blouse that button to her neck. She also wore a silver locket between her breasts. She looked like a young Queen Victoria about sixteen years old, the same age as herself.

     Kaycee said, “I don’t know what’s going on but you sure look the part.”

     “You didn’t answer my question, Yankee. What year do you think it is?”

     “Before I tell you, I’ll take a step back so that you can take a good look at me too.” Kaycee moved away from the door and aimed her smartphone on her body.

     Vicky peered through the peephole. Her eyes opened wide. She saw a girl with straight shoulder-length hair and a pink Victoria Secret shirt. Kaycee seemed outlandish to Vicky. She also wore tight-fitting jeans and white Nike shoes. “My word. You look like you ran away from the circus, wearing men’s trousers and all. And what’s that thing in your hand?”

     “It’s my smartphone. You mean to tell me you never seen one?”

     “Is it a small lamp?”

     “No, I mean yes…there is a light built-in, but it is more than that. It’s a smartphone. It has a camera, and…oh, let me show you.” Kaycee moved back toward the peephole. “You see it’s a mobile telephone.”

     “What’s a telephone?”

     “Come on. You never heard of a telephone?”

     “You mean a telegraph?”

     “Yes, something like that, except a person can hear and speak through a handset.”

     “Show me.”

     Kaycee accessed her friend Danyelle’s phone number. No Signal. “I’m not getting any signal down here.” Kaycee then scrolled pictures on her smartphone. She watched Victoria’s reactions to the various images of automobiles, jet planes, the shopping mall, and her high school friends.

     Amazement showed on Victoria’s face. “Miss Kaycee, you sure look and talk like someone from the future. Your contraption there convinced me. Am I right? What year is it where you are?”

     Kaycee showed Vicky her calendar date on her phone. “It’s the year 2020.”

     Victoria just stared through the peephole then said, “Oh my good Lord! I’m speaking to a girl one-hundred and fifty-six years in the future.”

     “That’s impossible. That just can’t be.”

     “No Miss Kaycee. I believe it’s true. I prayed to the good Lord last night that He would deliver me from the Yankees. I cried all night. You just don’t know how scared everyone is that they’re coming.”

     “I don’t know much about God but I don’t think He works like this.”

     “Believe what you want Miss Kaycee but all I know is that I got to open this here door.”

     Kaycee felt sorry for her. She needed help. Vicky didn’t seem like a threat. “There is no key so I don’t think we can. My mom is asleep right now, but she’ll be awake this afternoon. Maybe she can help?”

     “Miss Kaycee, the fewer people that know about this door the better. We’d both get locked up in the crazy house.”

     “So what do you suggest?”

     “Let me see your telephone.” Victoria reached her hand through the peephole then yelled out in pain. She snapped her hand back. Victoria rubbed her fingers with her other hand.

     “Are you hurt?”

     “I don’t know. It felt like I banged my fingers with a hammer. The jolt kicked me harder than a mule.” Victoria examined her hand. “Look-a-here. My hand is all withered and wrinkled looking.”

     Kaycee saw Victoria’s wrinkled hand transformed itself back to its young smooth self. Maybe Vicky is not crazy after all. Kaycee pulled a dollar out from her pocket and said, “I’m going to slip this dollar through the hole to see what will happen.” Kaycee moved the bill into the hole and as she did, the part that went through disappeared. She then pulled the bill back and it reappeared.

     “What just happen Miss Kaycee?”

     “I think what we are seeing is a time portal. I don’t know how or why but time is different between you and me. As crazy as it sounds, you are living in 1864 and I’m in 2020.”

     “I don’t know what a time portal is, but if that’s true, why can’t I stick my hand through the door hole?”

     “Because in 2020 you would be 172 years old. That’s why your hand aged. The dollar bill disappeared because it didn’t exist in 1864.”

     “What does all this mean Miss Kaycee? We can’t open the door?”

     “We can’t go through the door because if we do, you would die and I wouldn’t exist.”

     Both girls were quiet, taking in their weird situation. Victoria then said, “Tell me what’s going to happen when General Sherman’s army gets here to Savannah. Will they destroy the city and kill everyone? At least you can tell me that, being that you’re from the future.”

     Kaycee saw the desperation in Vicky’s face. “Hang on. I’ll find the information on my smartphone.” She went back to the stairs where her phone received a stronger signal. There she searched the surrender of Savannah. She returned and reported to Victoria that the Confederate soldiers escaped and left Savannah undefended. The next day Mayor Richard D. Arnold would surrender the city if no harm to its citizens or buildings occurred. General Sherman agreed. That happened on December 21, 1864. Kaycee raised her head and saw Victoria’s face relax. “I think you will be safe after all.”

     “Thank you, Miss Kaycee. You took a heap of worry off my mind. There is an old saying around these parts. ‘I was as nervous as a long-tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs.’”

     This time Kaycee laughed. For the next hour, Kaycee talked about her parent’s divorce and the difficulty of starting over in Savannah. Somehow, it felt natural sharing with this teenage girl. Should I tell her? I need to tell someone. Kaycee bit her tongue then said, “I hate my Dad. That woman is ten years younger than he is. She wrecked everything.” The tightness around her neck loosen.

     Victoria listened to Kaycee and waited for the right time to speak. “I like hearing how America turns out. You know Miss Kaycee, as hard as your folk's divorce is on you, I believe you will survive and overcome. The good Lord says to forgive. Forgive your Daddy and God will bless you.”

     “I can’t. I just can’t forgive my Dad.”

     “Let me tell you a story then we’ll see if you still feel the same way. Right now, this horrible war caused my Daddy to join General Lee’s Army as an officer. If the Yankees ever killed my Daddy, I vowed that I would hate them forever. My Mama read us the Bible and about forgiveness. She said that if we don’t forgive we’d end up like a dried-up tree stump. Unforgiveness will eat your insides like termites eat rotten wood.”

     “My Dad doesn’t care. He just thinks about himself.”

     “That may be but now you got to think about yourself. I take care of the boys at the hospital. It’s terrible Miss Kaycee. It’s the smell. The smell of burnt flesh and festering wounds. Those poor boys with amputated limbs. I change their bloody bandages and try to ease their sufferings, but so many of them die. I wish this war will finally end.”

     “I’m sorry. What you are going through makes my problems look so small.”

     “If I can forgive the Yankees, maybe you can forgive your daddy?”

     Kaycee didn’t say anything. They both became quiet. Then Victoria said, “By the way, Miss Kaycee may I ask what your last name is?

     “Rego.”

     “How about your mama’s maiden name?”

     “Forrest.”

     “You live in the Forrest House, don’t you?”

     “Why yes, how did you know?”

     “Just a feeling. Like I kind of…know you. It’s hard to explain.”

     Kaycee could see that Victoria’s face had that far-away look in her eyes. She then said, “My mom will be waking up soon. Maybe she has a key. I could open the door. We could see each other face to face and talk some more.”

     Victoria didn’t say anything. She just focused on Kaycee with moist eyes. After an awkward silence, she said, “No child. I don’t think we will see each other anymore. I will never forget you, Kaycee. The good Lord gave me a precious gift by letting me meet you. No matter what happens, I will always remember you.”

     “What are you saying? Why can’t we see each other?”

     “We’ll be together one day…in Heaven. Goodbye Kaycee. I will always love you forever. Go…go on now, be quick about it,” and with that Victoria closed her side of the peephole door and locked it.

     Kaycee pounded on the door, calling out, “Come back. Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave.” She pounded the door then stopped. Kaycee felt a love growing inside her. She raced back, searched the house, and found her mother in the kitchen starting an early dinner.

     “Mom, mom,” said Kaycee. “I found a passageway leading to a door under the house. Where is that keyring Doris left us?”

     “A passageway? Oh, you must mean that old storage room. There’s nothing in there. It hasn’t been opened in years.”

     “Mom, I was talking to a girl on the other side of a locked door. Where are the keys?”

     “A girl? The keys are over there Honey.”

      Kaycee scooped up the keyring and found a large black skeleton key. She hurried back to her bedroom, then to the old door, while her mother followed with a flashlight. Kaycee unlocked the door, pulled it open, and found an empty storage room with a wooden table. “Vicky, Vicky where are you?” Kaycee searched but found no other exit. “I don’t understand? Where did she go?”

     Her Mom arrived and said, “Kaycee, what’s wrong? Who are you calling for?”

     Kaycee spun around and faced her mother, and said, “She’s gone, Mom. Vicky is gone.”

     “Who’s gone, Honey?”

     “Vicky. I’ve been talking to a girl named Vicky and now she’s gone.” Kaycee retold her encounter with the girl.

     Her mother said, “You must have imagined it. There is no one here.”

     Kaycee took her mother’s flashlight and searched the room. Over the table, she noticed a loose brick with the initials KC scratched on it. She pried out the brick and retrieved a tin box sealed in wax and opened it. A silver locket with a chain rested on black velvet. Kaycee read the inscribed words. Vicky & KC, Forever with Love, 1864 to 2020. Inside she found two cameos, Victoria’s image on the left side and her image on the right, each facing the other. “Look, Mom. This is Vicky and this is…me?”

     Kaycee and her mother sat in the parlor looking through Grandma’s old photographs when her mother pointed to a girl in a formal portrait.

      Kaycee brought the cameo close to it and compared the two. “That’s her Mom. That’s the girl I saw. That’s Vicky. Who is she?”

     Brenna hugged her. “She’s your great-great-great-great-grandmother, Victoria Isabelle Forrest.”

     Later that evening Kaycee sat on her bed and made a phone call, “Hi Dad.”

-The End-