5. The Switch #2
If I’m in Abigail’s body, then who is in my old body?
Jane thought, as she looked back up at the chaos in the window.
It felt like what she could only describe as an out-of-body experience.
She could see her own face staring back at her through the window, desperately trying to find her.
The eye contact with herself made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
It was over quickly. She watched as Lizzie hugged her old body, Jane’s body, that finally gave way to old age and the cause of the fever. She was dead, or at least, someone was.
She couldn’t make any sense of it. Somehow, she was now Abigail, and the girl whom she’d once known as Abigail had moved into her old body. Her mind still felt like Jane, just with a small body and no aches anywhere.
The sound of Lizzie’s sobs coming through the window shook her to her core. All she wanted was to rush in and console her daughter, to tell her she was still here, and that they could be together again.
But if Abigail’s … soul went into my old body, then that would mean she’s… Jane gulped. She couldn’t bring herself to think about it. The thought made her stomach churn, and the ground tilted beneath her feet.
She’s dead. Abigail’s soul, in Jane’s body, was gone. I didn’t mean for this to happen! Jane’s mind reeled as she continued to make sense of what was happening.
To her left, Sarah and the boy, whose name she couldn’t remember, also stood staring. The young boy nudged her shoulder. “Come on, Abigail. Let’s go before our parents come looking for us.”
“I’m going to go find Keith and make sure he doesn’t go home just yet.” Sarah’s voice shook, and her clear blue eyes were wide as she processed her grandmother’s death. Well, not really.
Her true grandmother stood an arm’s length away. Her dusty pink ruffled dress was marked with sweat, evidence of playtime. Her dark hair was matted down and slick with sweat.
The boy grabbed Jane’s hand practically dragging her away from the chaotic scene. Jane took one last look at the window and shook away the image of her old face looking back at her.
She was unsure what to do. The wisdom of old age told her to not say anything and to accept this mysterious gift of a new life.
But deep down, she felt a new fear awaken as she was facing an unnatural force that left her with a multitude of questions.
The two of them walked for a while along the paved road, away from the rural farms and into the heart of downtown Buffalo.
Jane thankfully knew Abigail’s family. Her mother, whose name was also Sarah, was Lizzie’s best friend. They had a modest townhome a couple blocks from Main Street.
Jane’s body is dead and with it, Abigail’s soul. The thought interrupted her as she worked through the details of the life she now inhabited. Maybe this is all a dream. Maybe I, Jane, did actually die, and this is just the afterlife.
The prolonged silence stretched into an awkwardness that filled the space between the two children as they walked. Jane didn’t know what to say. She was afraid if she said one word, he would accuse her. You’re not Abigail! You’re an imposter!
The imaginary accusations played out in her mind, and she swallowed hard. Her mouth suddenly felt parched, and she swallowed again, willing any saliva to bring some relief.
“What do you think happened?” he asked cautiously.
Jane shrugged. “I dunno,” she lied.
“You seem pretty quiet. Not your normal talkative self. Normally, Sarah and I can’t get you to stop talking,” he joked, but it fell flat.
Albert! Jane thought to herself. She remembered seeing his mother, Careen, come to collect him on several occasions. His family owned a bakery on Canal Street. Albert, Sarah and Abigail were inseparable. They had been friends from a young age, and now they were her friends.
“I’ve heard my mom talk about Mrs. Hoffman-Abernathy and how she has been in and out of illnesses,” Jane said. “Maybe the screaming was a sign of the illness?” She watched Albert’s face carefully to see if he believed her lie.
“Hmmmm. Possibly. I just hope she is okay. I kinda wanted to stick around to see what was going to happen but figured it was best to get home.”
How could he not see the old woman had died? Is he minimizing what we say for my benefit? Jane mused as they entered the edges of downtown Buffalo.
The city seemed so much larger through the eyes of a child. The brick buildings looked different from the last time she traveled there with Lizzie. Men had tipped their hats at the mother and daughter duo as they’d perused the various stores. Now as a child, the adults ignored her existence.
“This is me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Albert stopped in front of the bakery, his townhome nestled in the floors above.
“Unless you want me to walk you all the way home?” Abigail shook her head as the smell of fresh baked bread consumed her senses, and her stomach growled.
Her new home wasn’t far from the bakery.
“See you tomorrow though?” He asked as he headed toward the door. Jane shrugged and Albert gave her a look that all but confirmed he was trying to stay positive for her.
She turned into the direction of her new home. Her legs felt weak, but not the same weak they’d once felt in her old body.
Nerves. Her nerves were bubbling to the surface, and she realized she was going to have to behave like a child.
Listening to Lizzie over the years talk about Sarah and her family gave her some of the knowledge she needed.
It was just the idea of being a 69-year-old woman in a child’s body that was throwing her mind into a dizzy spell.
As she walked, she familiarized herself with how her new body felt.
Abigail, Abigail, Abigail, she thought over and over again with her new name. I’m Abigail now. Jane is gone, but I can live on as Abigail.
If this was going to work, she would need to let go of Jane and fully become Abigail.
As she walked, she began a mental rundown of the Winslow family.
The father, named Gerry, was not much of a remarkable man.
He’d had an idea of opening a store where he could sell already-manufactured furniture, rather than people having to make it themselves.
The town had at first written him off, but he was determined.
He had already secured a storefront with the little money they had left.
Gerry was working on saving more money to bring in new goods.
The mother, named Sarah, she was always particularly fond of.
She had the same name as her granddaughter, or rather, as Jane’s granddaughter.
I’m Abigail, Abigail, Abigail. She resumed the mantra after the internal slip-up.
Now as Abigail, she would need to be cautious with how she spoke about them, because they were now her mother and father. How strange, she thought, I’ve never had a mother before, not really. Perhaps this was her chance.
Also, she could actually help them to be successful, which would allow her opportunities she hadn’t in her previous life.
A few things she knew for certain: this was completely random and unnatural, and she shouldn’t repeat any of the mistakes she had made as Jane, and life was too short for regrets. She wanted to become wealthy and help her new family secure that wealth any way possible.
She stood outside the door of the townhouse. It was modest, and the warmth emanating from the windows was welcoming to her, even as an outsider. The door opened suddenly. Sarah’s frame was dark with the interior light shining brightly behind her.
“Child, what are you doing standing there? I need your help with supper, and I expect you to come home sooner in the future,” she quipped, wiping her hands on her apron.
New Abigail smiled, recognizing the love veiled in the chastisement. So, this is what having a mother feels like, Abigail thought and marveled that she was getting a chance to do a whole new life again.
Her small legs rushed up the stairs and leapt against the woman’s body, her new mother’s arms wrapped around her.
I have been given a fresh start, and this time I won’t waste it.