Ty Callison for Kennebec7 (#3)
I intended this time around to tell you all about Edson Viana, my colleague from Brazil. He was tragically shot to death trying to rescue his daughter from the kidnappers who got involved in the Billy Meier case up here in Maricopa County.
I have to save Edson’s story til next time. Something else happened today and I think it’s important for me to share it with you while its still fresh in my mind. I went to visit Carmen DaSilva today at the state mental facility. She killed a lot of folks (not Edson), back two years ago when Billy McCrae was in her mind and spirit and used her body as a vehicle for his revenge.
Carmen’s gradually getting better. She has her good days and her bad ones. She still has a problem with her temper. I told you she was a fashion model and a real looker before Billy got her. You might still find her in Vogue or one of those magazines they never throw away in beauty salons.
Carmen said to me today, “Ty, I never came to Arizona but once in my whole life. What are the odds I’d end up here just at the time Billy got his head bashed in and found me?”
“You just thought that up?” I asked her.
“It’s something that came to me,” she said. Her English has gotten a lot better in the two years she’s now been in Arizona.
“That’s good, Carmen,” I told her. “I suspect that’s logic speaking. Maybe you’re using parts of your brain that—“
She narrowed her eyes at me. “—that I lost?”
The doctors had been telling me about her brain scans and what all, but I really didn’t understand too much.
“Why didn’t we meet in Paris where I did a lot of shows? Me and Billy?”
I smiled. “Because I wasn’t there, sweetheart.”
“You were an essential part of the equation,” she said, glaring with those dark eyes. “The all-seeing Ty Callison had to be there. For all the killing. The French cops would have shot me. It would’ve been all over.”
“The French cops wouldn’t have seen what I could see.”
“A lot of good you did.”
“Well, look at it this way, Carmen: If there’s life before life, and there’s a place where we work out our plans for the next incarnation. . “
“So I sat around in this ‘before world,’” Carmen said with some aggro, “planning to come to Phoenix and let Billy Fucking McCrae take me over?”
“I don’t know, Carmen. I’m not God, y’know.
“So you believe in God now?”
“It’s an idea.”
“Well, I sure as hell don’t!” she was riled. “You’re a Buddhist, aren’t you, Tyrone?”
“It’s a peaceable enough religion. As religions go.”
She looked at me, thinking. She seemed to calm down a tad. “Y’know, Ty, I never would have pushed Ana Lucia off the top of the roof in a million years. If I was in my right mind.
“I know that, Carmen,” I said.
“How did I help my so-called ‘evolution’ by becoming a mad killer? Tell me that, Tyrone.”
“I see you’re designing clothes for the other gals here in the hospital,” I changed the subject.
“Yeah. Something to do.”
“Got the gals pretty excited.”
“What are trying to tell me, Ty?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Just talking.”
She didn’t say anything for a while. Then her voice was real soft, drifting off away from me. “Thanks for visiting, Tyrone. I know you got bad guys to catch. You better mosey.” She winked at me. I got up and kissed her on the forehead.
I left, wondering what Phuong and Lily would make of our lives over on this side. Next time, my third blog this week, I promise to tell you as much about Edson as Beth Ann allows. Edson’s a fella who traveled on both sides of the divide.
Ty Callison
Mesa, Arizona
04/06/2010