My Name Is Mary: A Reincarnation Read online

  MY NAME IS MARY

  A REINCARNATION

  S.A. ISON

  My Name is Mary A Reincarnation

  Copyright © 2002 by S.A. Ison All rights reserved.

  Book Design by Elizabeth Mackey Graphic Design

  Book Edited by Ronald Ison Esq. Editing Services

  Book Edited by Lisa I. Ragsdale, Editing Services

  All rights Reserved. Except as under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a data base or retrieval system, without prior written permission of S.A. Ison

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the production of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons – living or dead- is entirely coincidental.

  FOR

  ALESSANDRO LEONIDAS

  ♥

  OTHER BOOKS BY S.A. ISON

  BLACK SOUL RISING From the Taldano Files

  INOCULATION ZERO Welcome to the Stone Age

  Book 1

  INOCULATION ZERO Welcome to the Age of War

  Book 2

  EMP ANTEDILUVIAN PURGE

  Book 1

  EMP ANTEDILUVIAN FEAR

  Book 2

  EMP ANTEDILUVIAN COURAGE Book 3

  POSEIDON RUSSIAN DOOMSDAY

  Book 1

  POSEIDON RUBBLE AND ASH

  Book 2

  EMP PRIMEVAL

  PUSHED BACK A TIME TRAVELER’S JOURNAL

  Book 1

  THE RECALCITRANT ASSASSIN

  BREAKING NEWS

  THE LONG WALK HOME

  EMP DESOLATION

  THE VERMILION STRAIN POST-APOCALYPTIC EXTINCTION

  THE HIVE A POST-APOCALYPTIC LIFE

  PYTHAGORAS FALLS

  FUTURE RELEASES

  SMOKEHOUSE SMILES From the Taldano Files

  PUSHED BACK THE TIME TRAVELER’S DAUGHTERS

  Book 2

  A BONE TO PICK

  THE MAD DOG EVENT

  SHATTERED MIND

  ONE

  Cory Montenegro sat in the Cooper River Mental Health Care waiting room, his head down and his foot jiggling nervously. He was seeing Dr. Renda Taylor; this was his third visit and Cory was no closer to understanding his phobias, such as his irrational fear of fire and his anxiety. Cory had been referred to Dr. Taylor by his psychiatrist, Dr. Halbert, who had been treating Cory for six years. Dr. Taylor’s methods were a little unorthodox and that was why Dr. Halbert had sent Cory to her. Cory lived with chronic anxiety, but within the last year, things had gotten worse. Nightmares had always plagued him, but now, things were affecting his waking life. Flashbacks to things he didn’t understand. Didn’t know about.

  Cory got up and went to the window. His body fairly vibrated with nervous energy. He gazed out the window, the city of Charleston below him. He saw a distorted reflection of himself and grunted with amusement, distorted was the right word. His whole life he’d felt distorted. As though he weren’t really living his own life. As though something interfered or stifled him. He raised his hand, placing it on the reflective hand in the window. It didn’t match up, off, just a little, like his life.

  On his first two visits Cory had relayed his fears and issues. Dr. Taylor had placed Cory under hypnotherapy on the second visit and had regressed Cory to find the possible underlying triggers that sent him into the debilitating anxiety attacks. To his annoyance and surprise, there hadn’t been much uncovered in the twenty-two-year old’s life that would attribute to the horrific nightmares that Cory suffered. The only good dreams were the ones where he rode a horse on a vast open plain, or stood on the deck of a ship, letting the waves move him. Which was funny, because Cory didn’t know how to ride a horse and he’d never been on a ship. But those dreams left him peaceful, unlike the others.

  Cory had been extremely nervous about the hypnosis, unsure of what to expect. When he’d been brought out of the trance, he had been both relieved and frustrated. Dr. Taylor assured him that it was normal to feel that way. As they worked, he would begin to understand what drove his fears. It was only a matter of time, uncovering those hidden details. Part of him was afraid of what he might uncover. But it needed to be done.

  Cory thought that Dr. Taylor was a capable woman, she exuded a sense of professional calm and reliability. She was in her early fifties and for Cory, embodied a mother-like sensitivity. Renda Taylor was the first black psychiatrist that Cory had ever met. Most of the psychiatrists and therapists he met were older white males. Cory had been through five, until he’d settled on Dr. Halbert, who was nearer to Cory’s age, mid-thirties, not late sixties, as were most of his previous therapists. The older doctors had always left him feeling nervous. Dr. Halbert said that finding someone Cory felt comfortable with was essential to healing. Cory just hoped Dr. Taylor could help him. He looked around when the door opened and Dr. Renda Taylor looked out and smiled at him. He smiled back, though it bothered Cory that his lips trembled.

  “Come on in Cory and have a seat. How are you feeling today?” Dr. Taylor smiled and indicated a soft leather recliner. She had a deep and slow southern accent, and it left Cory in a calm state. Cory nodded, going to the recliner and sat down.

  “I’m okay, just nervous, I guess.” He mumbled.

  “That’s normal and expected. Today I’ll be taking you farther back in your childhood. You’ll be aware of it all, but you’ll not experience the associated fears, should any arise. You’re in a safe place Cory, I won’t let anything bad happen to you here.” Dr. Taylor smiled softly and Cory felt his body relax and he smiled again, this time, without the trembling.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Alright, now, if you’d feel more comfortable, you’re more than welcome to put up the footrest and prop your feet up. Good. Now, I want you to close your eyes, but not too tight, just relaxed. Good. Now, I want you to take deep breaths, like you did the last time. Yes, good, take deep breaths and hold that breath for as long as you can and then let it out slowly. As you do so, I want you to then notice as you breathe, how your body relaxes.”

  Cory listened to the instructions as Dr. Taylor spoke softly, he felt his body begin to relax more and more. There was a feeling of becoming lighter, as though he were floating in the lounger. He had to fight himself not to open his eyes and look. On and on Dr. Taylor’s voice spoke the soft words and it filled his mind with comfort and relaxation.

  “Now Cory, I want you to travel back as far as you can. Take your time. When you’re ready, I want you to open your eyes and tell me what you see.”

  “Bi mori kharj baina.” Cory said dreamily.

  Renda Taylor jerked and leaned forward, looking at her patient. Cory’s face was soft and relaxed, his eyes unfocused and she knew he was in a very relaxed state. Had he just spoken a language or was he babbling, as in pre-toddler babble?

  “What did you say? Can you say it in English?” She asked, her hand poised with pen and paper.

  “I see horses.” Cory said.

  “Bi mori kharj baina, what language is that?” Taylor asked softly, watching her patient’s face closely.

  “Mongolian.”

  Renda’s mouth fell open, had Cory gone back farther than his childhood? Had she taken him back to a past life? Her hand began to tremble and she looked down at the pen, which wiggled, then she got a grip. A past life? She was shocked and thrilled.

  “What is your name?” She had to ask, she needed to find out if what she was hearing was real.

  “Batbayar, my mother says it’s because I bring her much joy.” Cory said, though his voice was
his, there was a slight accent to his words. Renda felt the tiny hairs lift up from her arms. She had heard about past life experiences but in all her work, she’d never come across one. She’d had one patient who had faked it, much to her professional embarrassment. That was why she was so hesitant to believe it, but here and now, it seemed very real.

  “How old are you Batbayar?” She asked, wiping her damp hands on her trousers.

  “I’m twelve. I help my father with the horses, sheep and goats. My mother is ill. We will milk the mare and give my mother the drink once it ferments.” Cory said, and Renda saw the worry crease between Cory’s brow.

  “Can you describe what is around you?” She asked, holding her breath. She watched as Cory’s head turned this way and that, his eyes still unfocused.

  “I see grasslands. I see our sheep and goats; they eat the grass. Soon we will move, to fresh grasses. I see mountains far away and there is fog on the mountains, so I cannot see their peaks. I see the horses; it is the herd that my father wishes to attain. We have seven horses of our own, but my father wants more. I see my sister; she is setting in front of our home. She is braiding wild onions.”

  “What is your sister’s name?” Taylor asked, letting her breath out slowly.

  “Chimeg.”

  “What does your home look like?”

  “It looks like a home. It’s low, but it’s well built. I helped my father build it. It has hides that my mother sewed together. Chimeg is too young to sew, but she will learn. My mother painted symbols around the door, to keep bad spirits away.” Cory said.

  “How do you feel Batbayar?”

  “I feel afraid, my mother is ill. I’m afraid she’ll die.” Cory said, a frown cutting deep into his forehead.

  “Breathe deeply and let that fear go away. You’re safe. Do you know the year of your birth?”

  “I…I know it. But I don’t know how to say.”

  “Can you say in one hundred years of today?” Dr. Taylor offered helpfully.

  “No. I think three thousand years before today. We don’t use a calendar, but three thousand years ago.” Cory said dubiously, then nodded and smiled.

  “Batbayar I want you to move forward in time. How old are you now?” Dr. Taylor asked, her heart was racing. She believed Cory to be truly under and experiencing a past life event. It was disconcerting and thrilling at once.

  “I’m nineteen. I’m dying. My wife is dying. We are very ill.” Cory panted and coughed.

  “You do not feel the fear or discomfort of dying. You are relaxed.”

  “My wife came from a visit with her family. She brought the illness with her. Her father was ill. Now we’re sick. We are dying.” Cory said and Renda could hear soft sorrow in his voice.

  “What do you see?”

  “Nothing. Our fire has gone out. We are too weak to collect more dung for the fire. It is black around us, but I feel the fur beneath me. I am holding my wife. She breathes with a wet noise in her chest…I can hardly breathe.” Cory began to pant once more.

  “Let us move forward in your time now. What do you see?” Dr. Taylor asked, not wishing for Cory to spend a lot of time on dying.

  “Vlepo enan stratiote, nomizo oti einai o echthros mou.” Cory said excited, his eyes wide open.

  “Tell me in English.” Dr. Taylor said, she wanted to shout with joy and laughter. This was crazy.

  “I see a soldier; I think he’s my enemy.”

  “What is your name and where are you?”

  “I…I am Eusebius and I’m a slave. I am in Akogas.” Cory said, his eyes still wide and watching.

  “Where is Akogas? You sound almost Italian. Are you?”

  “No, I’m Greek. Akogas is in Sicily, Agrigento. I serve my master. He is a soldier. I think I’m going to die.” Cory said, fear lacing his voice as his body began to shrink down into the lounger.

  “Take a deep breath. You feel no fear. You’re only to observe. Nothing can hurt you. Let your body relax, tell me what you see?”

  Cory turned his head and looked around him. He had lost the frightened look. His face cleared and relaxed.

  “There are many soldiers, they have spears and short swords. They are among the rocks and trees around me. I hear men, some are crying. I think they are dying. I see smoke near a village below us. We are high, among the trees. I smell smoke and burned flesh.” Cory said, gritting his teeth.

  “You are safe. Nothing can hurt you.” Dr. Taylor said, her voice finding the calm that she hadn’t been able to feel.

  “I feel pain, burning in my chest. I have an arrow in my chest; it is on fire. My clothes are on fire. It hurts!” Cory cried out, his hands brushing frantically at his chest.

  “You no longer feel the pain, you are going forward in time. You are no longer Eusebius. You feel a sense of calmness. You feel no pain. Breathe in and out. Yes. You feel your body relaxing. Yes, that’s it. Good. I’m going to take you ahead, move past your fears. Who are you and what do you see?” She said, her voice even.

  “Soy Llorente de Contreras y veo agua a mi alrededor.”

  “Can you tell me in English?” Taylor saw that with each life, that soul came to her with their native tongue. Once more, she detected the hint of an accent.

  “I am Llorente de Contreras. I see water all around me. We are in the Gulf of Cadiz. I don’t see the land; I don’t see my home.”

  “Llorente, how old are you? Are you on a boat?”

  “I am twenty-five and I’m on a ship, a galleon, the San Jose. She’s a three masted beauty.” He smiled.

  “You’re a sailor on a ship? Do you know the year that you are present?” Taylor asked.

  “Yes, I am a deckhand in the Spanish navy. It is 1701 and we are patrolling, our ship is heading for Gibraltar. There is much unrest.”

  “Why is there unrest?” Dr. Taylor was interested to see where this would lead.

  “Our king, Carlos El Hechizado, has died with no issue. I fear we maybe swallowed up by France.”

  “What are your duties on the ship?”

  “I’m a deck hand. I’m responsible for keeping the decks cleared of gear. I also have care for the animals below. I clean their stalls. We carry supplies, I load and unload those supplies.”

  “What is your life like on the ship?” She wondered out loud.

  “It’s very difficult. My days are long and I work hard. Sometimes I climb into the riggings, it’s quiet there. I must do this at night. I’m not allowed during the day, to just stand in the riggings. I like the wind that blows around me and I can see the ends of the earth. Sometimes I see porpoise, many of them, swimming in the distance. It’s a time I treasure. I’m alone and I can think.”

  “Is it crowded on the ship?”

  “Yes, and below decks, there are fights. It’s a difficult life.”

  “Can you tell me what you eat? What you drink?”

  “The usual, some days we have wine, with our pork or salted meat. Biscuits and garbanzo beans. It’s the same thing every day. Sometimes, we are allowed to fish. This is good, I like fresh fish. But most of the time, it is the salted meat and biscuits.” Llorente said, shrugging, causing Dr. Taylor to smile.

  “Can you tell me of your childhood?”

  “I was born in Cadiz. My father was a fisherman, my mother and grandmother lived in a small home. Our home was one of many homes together. Our home was very small. I had a sister, but she died shortly after she was born. My mother died too. My grandmother took care of me when my father took his boat out to fish. When I grew older, I went with my father. I like the sea. I like the feeling when the boat rocks. My father let me sleep sometimes when we went out into the ocean. We left very early in the morning, when the sky was still dark. When we caught enough fish, we sailed back to port and my father took the fish to market. We always had plenty to eat. My grandmother cooked good food. I miss her.” Llorente’s voice grew solemn.

  “I’m going to bring out to an awaken state. You will remember, but you will not feel the
fear, pain or distress. You will only have the logical knowledge of what you have seen and experienced. I will count backwards and then you will awaken, relaxed, rested and calm.” Dr. Taylor instructed, her heart still racing at the incredible implications.

  Cory’s body relaxed and when he was brought to full awake, he looked over at Dr. Taylor and saw the excitement in her eyes. He too felt excitement.

  “Was that real?” He asked, shaking his head.

  “Do you speak Greek? Or Mongolian or Spanish?” Dr. Taylor asked a soft smile to her lips.

  “No. I don’t, I only speak a little Spanish, I failed it in high school. I thought we were going back to my younger childhood. Back to when I was like two or three.” Cory said, putting the foot rest down and sitting forward.

  “That had been my plan, but I think we may have hit on why you have some anxiety issues and also your fear of fire. It would seem that in a former life, you burned to death.”

  “Is that even possible? I mean, to have a former life? Couldn’t I have made that up? Maybe I saw a movie?”

  “Does it feel like you made it up? And yes, I believe it is real. I’ve read about documented cases of past life experiences. You’re actually the first patient that I’ve come across however. It also explains your pyrophobia.” Dr. Taylor said.

  Cory shook his head, he was stunned. He remembered everything. He saw it and it was as real as seeing Dr. Taylor in front of him. Seeing the little Mongolian girl, and the horses. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He also felt a tight knot slip loose. That tight and crushing fear of fire. He was still afraid, but now he knew why.

  “How does me burning to death as someone else affect me now, if that was even me? I don’t understand it.” Cory said, his teeth biting his lower lip.