Chapter 5 of 8
It had taken two hours and twelve minutes precisely, to reach the address Peter had given him, and now Daniel found himself reluctant to make that final journey from car to front door.
The house looked very ordinary. Not large, but not small either, with a tidy front yard and a pristine porch. The sun was edging its way down toward the horizon as evening pulled in, but Daniel hardly noticed. He had discarded his jacket on the seat beside him and now slid his hand into the pocket to retrieve the netsuke. He glanced down at it, then up to the house just yards away from his car. Fingers tightened around the precious item as he pulled himself together. Not one given to premonitions, Daniel suddenly felt that what he was about to do was a huge mistake.
Trying to shake off the strange feeling, Daniel slid out of the car and locked the door, taking a few moments to survey the front of the house again. He had no idea where this strange reluctance came from, and yet it was almost a physical barrier between him and his goal. Glancing down the seemingly empty street, Daniel checked for Jack's car, expecting to find his friend pulling up behind him. The street remained quiet.
Twenty-nine steps, one press of his finger on the bell and he heard footsteps coming toward him as he stood on the porch.
"Who is it?"
Although he could not see the person speaking, Daniel took an immediate liking to the voice. There was a hint of an accent to the softly feminine voice, which resonated in him - almost familiar.
"Hi, my name's Daniel Jackson. Doctor Peter Bryant gave me your address. I'm sorry I didn't call ahead but I hope you can help me." Daniel found himself holding his breath as he waited for her reply.
"Peter gave you my address?" The voice sounded faintly incredulous. "Describe him to me."
Daniel complied, wondering why the woman was so defensive.
A moment later, he heard the slide of bolts and the door was opened wide to reveal Sophia Brightman.
For a moment he stood in stunned silence, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. Putting out a hand, he steadied himself against the door and just stared.
"Are you alright? Please, come in and sit down. I'll get you some water."
She steered him quickly into her living area, and left him to choose a seat.
The comfortable sofa took his weight as he collapsed into the cushions. Dropping his head into his hands, Daniel closed his eyes and tried to refute what he had just seen. If Sharé had been born on this world, this is who she would be. The face, the figure, even the voice, though edged with a southern accent, screamed his dead wife. But how had his subconscious known?
He still carried Share's picture in his wallet, and he now extracted it to try and refute his memories. He was still gazing at it when his hostess returned.
"I made coffee instead, you looked as if you could do with the caffeine." She said, coming to sit beside him on the couch, and putting the cups on the table in front of her. It was then she caught sight of the photo in Daniel's hand.
"Oh dear." Sophia Brightman said quietly then turned to face Daniel. "Mr Jackson, look at me."
Daniel raised his eyes to gaze at her again, compelled by something in her voice.
"Take a good look at me," she insisted as she reached out and laid her fingers lightly over his hands. "Who do you see now?"
"I don't…" Daniel broke off in confusion. The woman he though the image of his dead wife no longer bore more than a passing resemblance. A hint around the eyes and the same generous mouth and olive complexion, but there the similarity ended.
He pulled his hands out from under her touch, straightening himself up and away from her. "I'm sorry. I'm not quite sure what happened there. I assure you I don't usually fall apart so easily," he said, trying to inject some solidity to his voice.
Ms Brightman settled back in her corner of the sofa, accepting his rejection and eying him speculatively.
"I'm surprised that Peter sent you here. He knows I don't do bereavement counselling any longer."
Daniel caught the hint of pain in her voice and shook his head. "Forgive me, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot. My fault. I'm not here for counselling, though I do need your help."
Tucking the photo away, he couldn't help but wonder why she had stopped with such a rewarding vocation. Though he hadn't voiced his question, she seemed to pick up on his thoughts and answered him.
"You must be wondering why I gave up." Her voice defensive. "I found it too hard to distance myself from my patients grief, Mr Jackson. To see someone in as much pain as you every day, day after day after day."
An uneasy silence lay between them. Daniel took out the photo again then handed it over to her. "It was your resemblance to Sharé that shook me for a moment. My wife."
Sophia took the photo and studied it carefully. "I don't really look like her at all, do I Mr Jackson. How long ago did she pass over?"
Daniel felt himself gripped by the same anguish that he had felt when his memory of her had first resurfaced. Gritting his teeth he ruthlessly suppressed them. "Long enough that I shouldn't have acted as I did." He held out his hand for the photo, and then tucked it away again.
Fishing in his outer pocket, Daniel brought out the wrapped netsuke.
"This is why Professor Bryant sent me. He feels you might be able to tell me something about it."
Sophia eyed the object but made no move to touch it. "I know nothing about carvings, Mr Jackson. I'm a secretary not an artist. I think you've wasted your time." She rose, forcing Daniel to do likewise.
Daniel hadn't expected this. To be truthful he hadn't known what to expect, but outright rejection before he had pleaded his case wasn't an option. His voice stopped her as she headed to the door.
"Peter believed there was something, or someone, trapped within this netsuke. He told me you had a gift, and that you would help me." He paused for a moment, then, in softer tones, pleaded, "Won't you at least look at it for me?"
Her hesitation was there for him to see in the way she bit her lower lip and the tension in her shoulders. He took a step closer. "Please."
Her gaze moved from his face to the netsuke on his outstretched hand, then back to the fire in his blue eyes. Sighing, she moved back to the sofa and sat down, waiting for him to resume his seat. "Tell me why you need me to read this artefact. And please, don't leave out any detail."
Daniel, eager now to persuade, leaned forward, elbows on his knees and began with, "Since I acquired this piece I've been… well, haunted I suppose best describes it. Voices, things that go bump in the night. I'm a sceptic, I admit, but something is going on and Peter felt that something could be gained by seeing you." He then went on to explain in detail the voice he had heard, the words he'd heard spoken, the moving piece, the locked cabinet, concluding with, "Peter said he had some small ability and that he picked up on something within the netsuke. He told me your gift was far superior to his."
"You don't know what you are asking me to do, "she replied reluctantly. "Yes, I can sometimes, and I must stress that it is only sometimes, read a history from an object. Pick up on a previous owner. But I also, in some cases, receive their emotions too. If there is a soul trapped in there…" She shook her head.
"Won't you at least try," Daniel begged, holding out the ivory figure.
"This being called you by name?"
He nodded, the netsuke still balanced on his outstretch palm in mute appeal.
She ignored the offering, her eyes searching his. "You don't expect it to be your wife, by any chance?"
"I know what you are thinking, but no. Sharé is gone beyond anyone's ability to bring back. I'm not looking for a miracle… I'm looking for an answer."
What she saw in his eyes seemed to bring her to a decision. Still reluctant, Sophia Brightman lifted the carving from his palm and settled it in her own.
"I give no guarantees," she said quietly.
"I ask for none," he replied seriously.
Daniel sat, perched on the edge of the sofa, watching intently as Sophia clasped the netsuke lightly between her palms. She sat, eyes closed for a few moments, then her eyes opened to stare intently into the distance.
"All I am getting is vague impressions. A vast distance, darkness." She shook her head in frustration. "And old, very old. Whoever left their imprint on this object did so a long time ago."
Daniel waited as patiently as he could as his companion concentrated, a tiny furrow marking her brow. Finally, she sighed, letting her shoulders relax down, releasing the tension that had taken her captive. As she did so, Daniel saw her expression change, all animation leaving her features. The fine eyes seemed to dull, as though someone had turned off her inner spirit. He was leaning toward her, anxious hands stretching out, when she spoke.
"Help me, Daniel san. Remember me. Find me. Release me."
The words that emanated from Sophia Brightman's mouth were not in her voice, but the same soft, breathy whisper that had woken him from his dreams since he had unwrapped the netsuke.
Daniel leaned forward, his hands resting over the tightly clenched fingers wrapped around the carving.
"I hear you. Tell me what to do. Help me to understand." His soft passionate voice seemed to echo in the room, though he had spoken barely above a whisper. Sophia eyes were still blank; Daniel believed the spirit was still there, though he had gained no answer.
"Please," he begged, "tell me how to help you."
As though coming from a long distance the voice replied, "Remember me, Daniel san," before fading away.
The light suddenly returned to Sophia's eyes, and Daniel was quick to see the panic there before she suddenly slid down in a faint.
"Oh no," Daniel whispered softly, then he moved quickly to lay her on the sofa, chaffing her hands whilst he talked to her gently, trying to urge her out of unconsciousness.
The next ten minutes were agony for Daniel as he dithered, not something he did well. Twice he went to reach for his mobile to call for medical help, but how would he explain what had happened. Before he could make any decision that wouldn't land him in jail Sophia began to come around.
Her eyes fluttered open, wary and a little disorientated, finally coming to rest on Daniel's anxious face where it hovered over hers. "You! What… oh God, my head hurts."
Daniel watched helplessly as she sat up, refusing his offers of assistance.
"Can I get you anything? Coffee, aspirin, my head on a plate." Daniel offered.
She looked at him then, her eyes accusing, then she sighed and shook her head. "Coffee and aspirin sounds good, then I want an explanation. I've never had that happen to me before and I need to know why."
Daniel, under instruction, found his way around the kitchen and brought them both back fresh cups of steaming coffee and some cookies he'd found in a tin while searching for medication. Then he sat back in his chair and began to tell Sophia what he could about the artefact, only going so far as to say it had been found on a remote archaeological site, but leaving out nothing of his experiences with the netsuke other than it's original location. Finally, coffee and story finished, they faced each other in the gathering gloom.
"You say she asked for your help, for you to remember her?"
Daniel nodded. "I don't understand how I can. The artefact is centuries old, there is no history in my family of any links to the Orient, not even traders. My family tree goes back to Europe and the Nordic countries."
"That would explain the eyes," Sophia murmured almost to herself.
Daniel felt himself smiling almost reluctantly. He suddenly felt very comfortable in this house, with this woman. It made a pleasant change to not deal with Jack's sarcasm or Sam's almost religious belief in science. This was a problem that neither of them understood, and Daniel could not talk to them in any comfort about the fears that plagued him.
Sophia glanced up at him, a slight frown marring the smooth brow. "Tell me, you say you have other netsuke? Do you believe that they too have a spirit within them?"
It was Daniel's turn to frown. He thought back to that first night when all the figures had been displaced, it wasn't until he had put them behind glass that the female netsuke had seemed to come to the fore. His startled blue eyes met her compassionate brown gaze in sudden apprehension. "You think there may be more trapped spirits?"
"It's hard to accept, isn't it?" Sophia said quietly. "A sceptic like yourself, finding that maybe not everything is quite as black and white as you would like it to be. I gather that you are an historian at least or else you would not know Peter? Surely you must have researched myths and legends from cultures around the world. Not everything can be explained can it?"
Daniel was lost in thought and only caught the end of her words. "I'm sorry? Yes, yes I am an historian and linguist." He sighed then added, "I'd come to believe I understood the …" He stopped. How could he explain that the miracles of so many cultures could be put down to the technology of Asgard or Goa'uld?
"Bring the others to me. I'll try and read them." Sophia's voice interrupted his reverie again. He really must get a grip on his concentration.
"Thank you."
Daniel didn't see Jack's car parked up the road as he left the house, stopping only to plant a quick kiss on Sophia's cheek. Nor did he see Jack's headlights follow him to his apartment building, nor note as the four-wheel drive passed by later that night as he sat at his desk with the eleven other netsuke lined up in front of him.
He would have been surprised and irritated to learn that O'Neil had made discreet inquiries about both Peter and Sophia, and down right angry to know that the next day he had Jack tailing him once more. But Daniel's mind was not on his surroundings; he gave only enough of his attention to get him from his home to Sophia's in one piece, the rest was given to the box of twelve wrapped ivory netsuke that were resting securely in the passenger foot well of his car.
Sophia welcomed him into her home with a smile and a nod to the box in his hands. "Is that the rest?"
Daniel nodded and put the box down on the coffee table. "I brought my lady back as well, so that you can see them all together. She is the only one I couldn't find when I researched them."
"And you hope she is the only spirit," Sophia finished for him, silently acknowledging his compassion.
An hour later and they put the eleventh netsuke back into its wrapping neither unhappy that not one of the other carvings seemed to house a soul.
Daniel watched as Sophia picked up the white lady again. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"If I can learn any more to help you, then yes, I'm sure." Her hand touched his briefly as he laid the ivory piece into her palm, their eyes met in complete accord.
"Be careful," Daniel warned, even though he knew there was nothing that either one of them could do to stop whatever might happen.
Sophia concentrated with no luck, but again, as she began to relax something took hold. Fainter, less empowered, the voice begged for Daniel to help, to remember.
"I wish I could come with you, Daniel," Sophia said as they parted at her doorstep. "I think taking her home is the best thing to do. Perhaps something, or someone there can help you."
Daniel's rueful smile warmed his eyes and took some of the care from his face. "I wish you could come too, but the area is very remote and not easily accessible. It might even be dangerous. Plus I'm not quite sure how I'm going to get there. I thank you for your help; if it hadn't been for you I think I would have… Well, never mind. But thank you."
They shared a hug, but even as he turned away Sophia called him back. "You will let me know what happens won't you. I hate mysteries."
Daniel nodded. "I promise I'll be back."
