The Christmas Prayer

By David Crowley

Susan Johnson never gave much thought to her dreams. She rarely even remembered them. That changed after she met Michael Caldwell in the airport while waiting for a flight home for Thanksgiving. As they chat, waiting for their delayed flight, Michael tells her of his plan to look into the history of his family's farm in Wisconsin.

That night, at home, Susan wakes from a curious dream about a farm in Wisconsin. Attributing it to Michael's mention of his family farm, she considers it just a coincidence. On the following nights, however, she continues to dream about the farm, each dream starting where the last one ended.

In Wisconsin, Michael learns that the farm was bought by his great-great-grandfather from the son of a man who disappeared on Christmas Day in 1898. Intrigued by this, he decides to see if he can learn more about the disappearance. He is helped by a 105-year-old woman whose mother was a friend of the farmer's daughter. What he learns only heightens his desire to solve the mystery.

When Susan calls to see how his research into the farm's history is going, she discovers that everything he's learned matches what she's been seeing in her dreams. At first unable to understand how that could be possible, Susan begins to feel that the dreams are meant to help Michael find the answer.

Working together, they begin to believe they know the reason for the dreams. But do they?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781684983148

Book preview

Prologue

Do our dreams really have meaning? Can they be analyzed to tell us what they mean? Can they, as some have claimed, predict the future? Are they perhaps portals to our subconscious, revealing the hopes, fears, and secret desires our conscious minds won’t acknowledge? Or are they simply stories our slumbering imaginations create that have no real meaning at all?

Susan Johnson never gave any thought to those questions until she met a stranger in the airport as she waited for her flight home for Thanksgiving in 2017. Nothing in their conversation could have prepared her for what would happen in the coming days. On her first night home, however, everything changed. From that night on, questions about dreams and their meaning would haunt her to the point of wondering if she might be losing her mind.

What if what we see in our dreams is real?

Chapter 1

D elayed.

Yes, the flight number on the board was hers. Of course!

Susan got in line and waited for her turn at the counter. How long? she asked.

I’m sorry. It looks like an hour.

Thank you.

She made her way to an open seat, put her bag on the floor, and settled in for the wait. Well, I may as well start my book now, she thought.

She dug in her bag for the book she’d brought along to read on the flight, pulled it out, and started thumbing through the first few pages.

So you like the old-fashioned romances, eh?

Susan looked up to find a man seated across from her, staring intently at her.

Excuse me?

The irritation in her voice was hard to miss. She wasn’t in the mood for some guy trying to make small talk.

I’m sorry. I’m usually not this forward, but I think I may have seen you before.

Your first line was better than that one.

It wasn’t a line. You really do look familiar. I just had to say something.

Susan realized she may have been a little sharp.

No, I’m sorry. I guess I was a little harsh. It’s just this delay and the waiting.

I know what you mean. I hope I don’t miss my connection in Chicago.

Chicago? We must be on the same flight. Where are you headed?

Wisconsin. A little west of Green Bay. Where are you off to?

A bit north of that. Upper Michigan, close to Lake Superior. A town called Calumet.

Home for Thanksgiving also, I guess.

Yes, gotta get home to see the family. I’m looking forward to it, though. My family’s always been close, so it’s always good to see them.

This isn’t so bad, she thought. He seems like a nice guy after all.

Mind if I move over by you so I don’t have to keep shouting? he asked.

No, that’s fine.

There was something about him that made her feel comfortable talking to him. Maybe a little company would make the wait easier to bear. He moved across to a seat one away from her, which improved her impression of him even more. He didn’t seem to be coming on to her the way she’d expected.

Maybe there really are decent guys left in the world, she thought.

My name’s Michael, he said. Michael Caldwell.

Susan Johnson.

How long have you been in New York, Susan?

About three years. I went to law school at Yale and decided I liked this part of the country.

Ah, a Yale lawyer. Must be doing pretty well with that pedigree. Shouldn’t be too long a climb up the corporate ladder.

He was starting to challenge her comfort level now.

Actually, I’m doing okay.

Her curt reply made him realize he was screwing things up.

I’m sorry. I guess that was the wrong thing to say.

They sat in silence for a while, he obviously upset with himself for blowing it, she thinking that she shouldn’t be so touchy. It was that touchiness, she felt, that always got in the way of her attempts at relationships. He had actually given her a compliment. She decided to fix this before the silence became unbearable.

You didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just that I hear that all the time. Everyone thinks that that’s what I want, but it’s not. I don’t even work at a big firm where I could do that.

Well then, it was the wrong thing. I just assumed…

I know. Everybody does. But it’s not the kind of life I want.

So what kind of life do you want…if you don’t mind me asking.

The one I have now, I guess. I work for a small firm up in Mount Vernon. It’s a father and son, and one other besides me. We don’t do big corporate jobs, just everyday legal stuff. They have a philosophy of trying to help people, so we handle a lot of cases that involve issues of fairness, and we do environmental work, which I’ve always been into.

Sounds good. If you’re happy there, that’s what matters.

Well, they’re good people, and they care more about people than money. There’s not the kind of working conditions that there are in big firms. I’ve never felt pressured to put the job ahead of everything. Like right now. I’m going home for Thanksgiving and I’ll be going home again for Christmas. How many big firms would let me do that?

Not many. Probably none, unless you were right at the top and could give yourself the time off. It’s the years of getting to that point that would keep you away from home.

Right. So I’m happy where I am, and I have, I think, the kind of life I want. So what kind of ladder are you on?

Me? I’m not on any ladder. I’m not even on a step stool. I keep my feet firmly on the ground so if I fall it’s not too hard a landing.

"But you must do something. I mean, you can’t live without some kind of income."

Oh, I do something. I’m an artist.

Oh, I see.

Oh, I see? What does that mean?

She could tell he was just giving her a hard time and enjoying himself quite a bit.

I didn’t mean anything, she said coyly.

She was really enjoying his company, and she found herself thinking that he’d be a great guy to spend some time with in the future. Maybe they could get together when they got back to New York. She’d have to make sure she gave him her number before they boarded.

Well, he said, I’ve done fairly well so far. A friend and I run a gallery downtown. He runs the business and I paint. Luckily he’s good at what he does, and he has a lot of connections in the art world. He’s the one who got me noticed, actually, and then created the buzz that keeps things going. With him taking care of all that, I can just spend my time doing what I love.

Sounds like you’ve also got the kind of life you want.

Yeah, I definitely do. I guess I’ve been lucky. A lot of artists barely make a living. I know some who have regular day jobs and work on their art in their spare time. There’s a lot of pressure in that kind of life. Like I said, though, my friend had the connections and the know-how to get me noticed. Now I can paint when I want, where I want, and how I want.

That does seem like a great way to live. So I take it you have a lot of free time.

Not so much free as available. I still work pretty regularly, but I’m not limited by time or space. Like right now, I’m going home for Thanksgiving, but I’m staying through Christmas. That doesn’t mean I won’t be working, though. I’ve got a studio at the farm, and I may get a few things done while I’m there. I have to see what shape it’s in since I haven’t used it in years.

Wow, that sounds great! Spending the whole Christmas season with your family, and on a farm no less. It must be like going back in time.

She noticed he was looking at her with a curious look on his face.

Are you psychic at all? he asked.

Not that I know of. Why?

Well, I am going back in time, in a way. One of the things I want to do while I’m home is look into our past. I’d like to know more about our family history. I know a little about my parents and grandparents, but that doesn’t go back that far. I guess I could go online and find more, but I’m the kind who likes to do things hands on.

Susan was beginning to like this guy more and more. He seemed a lot more down to earth than most of the men she knew.

But what, she asked rather playfully, if you find out there’s a dark secret your family’s been hiding? What if you discover you’re descended from a murderer or some other kind of madman?

Michael laughed. I guess that would explain a lot of things, he said.

Now don’t start talking like that, just when I’m beginning to like you.

You mean it’s taken you this long to just begin? I must be losing my touch.

A sudden rush came over her, and she realized that she was starting to blush. She looked away, trying to look casually down the concourse.

I think I’ll get some coffee, she said, turning only a little way toward him. I’ll be right back.

Before she could stand, Michael was on his feet. That’s a good idea. I could go for some myself. Just sit tight. I’ll get it. What would you like?

Oh, you don’t have to.

Well, I’d like to. A little thank you for making my wait a lot more pleasant than I expected it to be.

Susan, she thought, don’t turn a simple cup of coffee into a major incident. You’ll send the wrong message.

She smiled and nodded. Okay. Just a little cream and sugar. Thank you.

Good, he said as he started to go. Don’t go anywhere.

He shook his head as he walked away. Don’t go anywhere? he thought. Brilliant, just brilliant! What an impressive thing to say to someone who’s waiting for a plane.

He returned with the coffee, handed hers to her, and sat down, trying to think of something to say to start the conversation again that wouldn’t sound as stupid as he felt. But before he could say anything a voice cut through the hum of concourse voices and footsteps.

United Airlines Flight 7945 is now ready to board. Passengers, please report to the boarding area immediately.

That’s our flight, Susan said. A lot sooner than they thought, I guess. Looks like my coffee idea wasn’t too well timed. I’m sorry. I feel like I should pay you for mine.

Don’t even give it a thought. There was no way to know. And anyway, I did enjoy your company, which has been worth much more than a cup of coffee.

I enjoyed your company, too. In fact I was thinking—

The sound of a ringing phone stopped her. It was coming from Michael’s pocket. He pulled out the phone and looked at the number.

It’s my mother. I should take it. You go ahead. If you board before I do, I guess I’ll see you in Chicago.

Oh, sure. I’ll see you there.

Susan picked up her bag and jacket and headed for the boarding area. After going through security and boarding she sat hoping she’d be able to catch him in Chicago. She did like him and wanted to give him her number. If she didn’t see him when they got off the plane she might never see him again.

She stood and looked around the plane as much as she could, hoping to see where he was sitting, but he was nowhere to be seen. She had been annoyed by the flight delay, and now she found herself feeling annoyed that it hadn’t lasted as long as expected.

I hope he doesn’t miss the flight because of that call, she thought. I should have given him my number right when I thought of it.

She noticed that most of the other passengers were seated and suddenly found herself feeling like a meerkat sentinel, peering above the heads of the crowd, several of which were looking up at her. Embarrassed by the feeling, she sat down quickly and tried to deal with the regret she knew would haunt her for a long time.

Well, isn’t this a coincidence.

Startled for an instant, her regret faded quickly as she looked up to find Michael standing in the aisle next to her. He nodded to the empty seat immediately across the aisle from her, tossed his backpack in the overhead, and took his seat.

I lose you in the crowd and end up basically right back where we left off. I hope you’re not too disappointed that you’re still going to be stuck with me till Chicago now.

No, she said, trying not to look too pleased. As a matter of fact, I was thinking that I should have given you my number. Maybe we could get together sometime when you get back to the city.

You know, I was thinking the same thing. Now you can. I just hope you don’t change your mind after having to put up with me for the next few hours.

Well then, maybe I should give it to you now, just in case.

She smiled, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious about how much she had started to like him.

That was a pretty good comeback, he said. I like your sense of humor. So let’s take care of the number exchange right away, then when I bore you to sleep, we won’t forget about it later.

Oh, you won’t bore me, I’m sure. You’re an interesting guy. I’m the one who’ll put you to sleep. My life is about as interesting as an empty parking lot. Just a lot of empty space.

Now I don’t believe that. Tell me more about your job. Tell me about your family or where you’re from. Calumet, I think you said.

Oh, Calumet. It’s just a little town just a few miles from Lake Superior. It was a big deal a hundred years ago, but now it’s like a lot of other small towns up that way, just trying to hold on. It is a beautiful area though. There’s a lot of woodlands and streams and waterfalls, and quite a bit of history, especially about copper mining. But even if it isn’t what it once was, it’s home, and I like spending time there.

I think I was up there once when I was a kid. We took a family vacation through that area, but I was pretty young so I don’t really remember much about it.

Well, being an artist, you really should get up there again. I’ll bet you’d find a lot of inspiration.

Maybe I will someday. But not in the winter. I’ve heard there’s a lot of snow there every winter.

Oh, there is for sure. Back in the late ’70s, we got over four hundred inches of snow during one winter.

Okay. That’s all I needed to hear. I guess any trip I make will be in the summer. Do you think July would be safe?

Gee, you’re so funny! she said playfully. Of course it will, but late July would be safest. So tell me about your town and the farm. I’d like to hear about the farm. Farm life seems so peaceful and idyllic.

Yes, it’s peaceful at times, but it can get pretty hectic, especially during planting and harvesting, and most days are long and tiring, but the nights can make all that seem worth it.

Michael continued talking about the farm for a while, then the conversation turned to more about her family and her life growing up. They then covered favorite foods, music, and movies. They were just arguing about which Star Wars series was the best when a voice broke in to inform everyone that they would be landing at O’Hare in fifteen minutes.

Wow, said Susan. We’re already there. I can’t believe we’ve been talking that long.

Neither can I. I’m glad I found you back at JFK. I don’t know how we ended up right across from each other, but it was sure a lucky coincidence. This has turned into a much more enjoyable trip than I expected.

I feel the same way. Just don’t forget to let me know when you get back.

Don’t worry about that. I haven’t met too many interesting women who I can talk to like I can you. I just have to remember not to mention you to my mother, though.

She smiled mischievously. What! You don’t think I’m the kind of girl you can bring home to mother?

No…of course not, he said hesitantly. It’s just that if I even mention you, she’ll be off to Green Bay to look for a mother-of-the-groom dress. My sister’s married so she’s off the hook already in that regard, but the few times I’ve mentioned having a date, my mother’s first question has always been when she was going to meet her.

I guess that’s one subject we missed. I get the same thing. ‘When are you going to settle down?’ ‘Is it that hard to find a man in New York?’ I like my freedom. I’m not ready for that. And besides, I haven’t really been too impressed with the men I’ve met.

It suddenly occurred to her that she might be digging herself into a hole.

Of course I don’t mean all of them.

Oh no, I understand. I’ve seen and heard of plenty of instances of guys who are jerks. My problem is, I don’t really feel ready for a close relationship. I’ve dated a few women and everything seemed good in the beginning, but then they’d start wanting to be more than friends and I just wasn’t feeling the same way.

Susan felt herself becoming uneasy. Better be careful, she thought. Don’t scare him away. You don’t really want anything serious either, so don’t give him the wrong impression.

I know what you mean, she said. I’ve run into the same thing. Like I said, I like my freedom.

You know, I think that’s why I enjoy your company so much. I definitely want to get together when I get back. This could be the beginning of a very nice friendship…as long as my mother doesn’t know about it.

They both laughed as they buckled their seatbelts as the plane started to descend.

After landing, they stood up and retrieved their bags from the overheads. Susan stepped into the aisle and was quickly followed by the man from the seat next to hers. As Michael began to step toward the aisle, a large woman squeezed in front of him before he could move. They were soon separated further as several passengers in the seats in front of them jostled their way into the aisle. They found each other inside the terminal with just enough time for a quick goodbye before rushing off to their gates to hopefully make their connections.

I’ll give you a call when I get back next month.

He put his hand out toward her.

Just a handshake, she thought disappointedly as she held out her hand. But before the thought even had time to register in her mind, he stepped forward and put his other arm around her shoulders.

Take care of yourself, he said softly as he stepped back and let go of her hand. Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving! he called out as he hurried off toward his gate.

Happy Thanksgiving!

She watched him hurry away then turned and started quickly in the direction of her gate.

Chapter 2

Susan looked out the window as the plane started its turn toward the runway at the Houghton County Memorial airport, the small rural airport a few miles south of Calumet. There was a light fall of snow and she could see the lights of some of the houses scattered over the fields and wooded areas around the airport.

Almost home, she thought.

It was a comfortable feeling, being so close at last. She had spent the hour and twenty or so minutes of the flight thinking about Michael and all the things they had talked about. The day had turned out so differently from what she had expected when she left her apartment just a matter of a few hours ago. It almost didn’t seem real, especially now that she’d been alone for a while.

She pulled her phone out and checked it. Yes, his number was there. Maybe she should text him to let him know she was home.

Don’t be so silly, she thought. That’s a good way to make sure you never hear from him again. And what are you thinking anyway? You’re not looking to get into anything serious any more than he is.

Still, she couldn’t deny that he was very possibly the nicest guy she’d ever met. Her mind started to go over everything she’d said to him, hoping she hadn’t gone on too long about her family. Did he really think the stories she told were funny, or had he been sitting there laughing but secretly hoping she’d stop soon? Was he really going to call when he got back to New York? By January, he might have forgotten all about her.

The bump of the plane touching down brought her out of her thoughts. She shook her head, chiding herself for letting herself get so caught up in all those thoughts.

The plane taxied to a stop outside the small terminal. It was snowing heavier now, and her fellow passengers hurried from the plane across the tarmac and in through the terminal door to where warmth and smiling family members and friends waited. Susan hurried along with them.

Being the weekend before Thanksgiving, the plane was full, but the terminal was small. She struggled through the crowd of those whose family and friends had been waiting closest to the door, scanning the rest of the room for a familiar face. At last she saw it, that awful fur lined red hunting hat her father insisted on wearing whenever the temperature got below freezing. But right now, it was a sight for sore eyes.

She made her way in that direction