by Sheila Lowe
Jessica clicked off, thinking how much better that experience was than the one with Grocery Store Guy. She was thanking Justin and Mason for connecting her with Roneisha Carpenter when a brilliant beam of sunshine came through the kitchen window and brightened the entire cottage. Bathed in its warmth, Jessica felt something rare. Pure happiness.
That evening, Sage phoned, asking if she was feeling better. Jessica caught herself smiling into the phone. Greg had never expressed concern over her well-being. From the perspective of five years distance from her ex-husband, she was disgusted with herself for having stayed with him for so long.
Until now, the one caring man in her life was Dr. Gold, and he was her therapist, so he had to care. It’s what he was paid for. Her father had humored his wife in adopting the twins but showed virtually no interest in them during the rare times he spent at home. The men she had dated had not stuck around long enough for her to get to know them. As for Zach, he was a good guy, but the relationship was short-lived.
It struck her that she had not allowed anyone to get within emotional touching distance in a very long time. Maybe ever.
Recognizing the bad choices she had made in the past made Jessica question her attraction to Sage. Instinctively, she knew there was much to be explored there. Yet, with her lousy track record, she worried there must be something wrong with him that she had yet to discover. He was the best-looking dude she had ever met but it was not his looks that had captivated her. She had only to look at her failed marriage to appreciate that on its own, physical attractiveness had a limited shelf life.
“Bella can’t wait to meet you,” Sage said, bringing her attention back. “She noticed you this morning.”
“Yeah, I bet she did,” Jessica muttered. “Look, I’m sorry I ran out on you. I enjoyed her talk, I really did, but—it was all a bit overwhelming.”
“It’s fine. How about tomorrow? Bella’s in the office after nine.”
“I would love that, thank you.”
“I can pick you up.”
“You’re going to drive all the way down here, pick me up and go back to Ojai, then reverse the whole trip? Thanks, but it’s not necessary.”
“I don’t mind, I like to drive.”
“I know where the place is now. Can we meet up after I see Bella? If you’re not too busy. I mean, if you’re still willing to give me a tour—” Jessica trailed off, half-expecting Sage to be annoyed at her refusal to go along with his plan. Greg would have pitched a fit.
It was important to nip the impulse to make that comparison in the bud. The two men were nothing alike.
Sage did not hesitate, nor did he argue with her decision. “Text me when you’re finished with Bella,” he said. “I’ll collect on that lunch rain check.”
She could not help smiling. “I’ll be there by nine-thirty.”
ELEVEN
The Reverend Bella Bingham had traded her Sunday finery for a green, floral-print, maxi dress. Her white, candy-floss hair stood out in a halo around her head, like a motherly angel.
“Come along and sit down, darling,” she said, in her down-to-earth Northern English accent, guiding Jessica through the sanctuary to a door at the back. “We’ll have our little talk in my office.”
The office was a small room crammed with file cabinets and bookshelves. The desktop was invisible, hidden under stacks of paper and books. Bella took the seat at the desk and offered her guest a folding chair.
Jessica, having been hit by a fit of anxiety as she left her car, seemed to have lost her voice.
Praying that an episode was not on the horizon, she took her seat and forced the words out. “Reverend Bella—”
“Oh, please luv,” Bella interrupted, pronouncing the word “loov.” “It’s just plain Bella. We don’t stand on ceremony here. C’n I get you a cup of tea?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“All right then. Now, before we begin and you tell me what’s on your mind, I have to say to you, I’ve got a little boy here. He’s been pestering me all morning.” She leaned forward and took both of Jessica’s hands in her own. “He’s a dear little thing, isn’t he? He says he wants you to know that he’s going to help you.”
Nothing had prepared Jessica for Bella’s announcement. The shock made her stammer. “My—I—”
“It’s all right, darling. You’re on the right path. Now, what can I do for you?”
“Wait—you can see him? Is he saying anything else?”
“Mmm, give me a minute, luv.” Bella looked past her, letting her eyes droop to half-mast. “He’s showing me the letter ‘J’. Of course, your name is Jessica, but it’s not you. It’s another ‘J’ name connected with you. Does that mean anything to you, darling? Just say yes or no.”
“Yes. Yes.”
Bella tipped her head to the side, seeming to listen to the spirit that Jessica was not able to see.
“What’s that? Oh, okay. J—Judah? No, wait a minute.” With her eyes closed, Bella started talking very fast, as if she couldn’t keep up with what was being shown to her. “The spirits are drawing the letter ‘J’ over the little boy’s head. It must be his name. Come on then, give me a clue—no, not you, dear. I want him to tell me. Oh, I see. It’s Justin, is it?”
“Yes.”
“He’s crossed at a very young age, hasn’t he? Not an infant, but—more like a toddler. This is your child? I feel like I’m going very fast, flying through the air. I’m strapped in, like an airplane, but it’s not a plane. Ohhhh, it’s a car accident, is it? Just yes or no.”
“Yes.”
“Well, darling, you’re not to worry about him at all. He’s not alone. There’s an older lady in spirit who’s taking care of him. She’s standing beside you on your right.”
Reflexively, Jessica turned her head to look but saw nothing.
“Is there a grandmother for you in spirit?” asked Bella.
“I don’t know. I was adopted as a baby, so it’s possible.”
“It’s all right, darling. This lady in spirit is named Elizabeth and she says she’s your grandmother. She’s on your right, and that’s my symbol for being your father’s side. She says she was there to meet little Justin when he crossed and she’s taking care of him for you.” With her eyes still closed, Bella took a box of tissues from her desk and handed it to Jessica, who was wiping away tears with the back of her hand. “Now, who is—Jen—Jennifer?”
“Jenna.”
“All right, I’ll take that. Jenna.”
“My sister.”
“She’s the spitting image of you, isn’t she? Like a mirror reflection. Are you twins, then?”
“Yes, we are. We’re identical twins”
“I thought you must be. Your grandmother is showing herself sitting in a rocking chair with two little baby girls in her lap. She looks so pleased.”
“I don’t remember her at all.”
“No, you wouldn’t, would you at that age? I’m losing the connection now, but granny Elizabeth and Justin are sending you waves of love. Oh, my darling girl, I can’t tell you how much love is surrounding you. You must never feel that you’re alone.”
Every agony from the past five years welled up, an immense balloon, filling her up and bursting. Jessica gave up trying to control her emotions. Bella gave her tissues and she wept them sodden. The pastor let her go until she was drained, then handed her a bottle of water.
“The loss of a child is like no other,” said Bella. “It goes against nature, doesn’t it, luv. Now, tell me what I can do to help.”
Jessica drew a shuddering breath and gulped down the water. She scrubbed a fresh tissue across her face. “I’ve been hearing voices since I had a head injury in a car accident—the accident where my son was killed five years ago. I’ve tried not to listen, but lately, it’s been impossible. They line up, the dead people. There’s even a red velvet rope they stand behind, like they’re going to an event. And they all have messages they want me to give, day and night. I’m
barely getting any sleep.”
A benevolent smile warmed Bella’s face. “Never mind, luv, you’ve got to set office hours.”
“Office hours?” Jessica echoed.
“Well, yeah. You can’t be open all the time, can you?” Bella reached over and patted Jessica’s hand. “It’s a bit like this: let’s say you open a bakery. You bake the most delicious cakes and pies and donuts. Word spreads. Soon, everybody’s heard how fabulous this bakery is. What would happen then?”
“People show up to buy the goods?”
“That’s right. And if you don’t post your hours on the front door, you’d have hungry people showing up all hours, expecting you to always have cakes in the display case.
“It’s the same with the world of spirit. It’s hard for them to get messages to the people on earth who they love, so once they know someone can hear or see them, word gets around fast. They don’t mean any harm by it, but time isn’t the same over there. What you’ve got to do is put a nice little sign by your bed, telling them you keep office hours—let them when you’re available to help them. Or if you’d rather not help at all, you can say that, too.”
Jessica shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. My son brought me another little boy and I got hold of his mother, gave her his message, which I was happy to do. I’ve had one bad experience, too. So, I can’t go around looking for people and telling them I’ve got messages from their dead relatives.”
Bella grinned. “Well, not unless you want to become a career medium.”
“Um, no, I already have a career in art.”
Bella wagged her finger like a teacher to a student. “Spirit might have other plans for you, darling, you’ll have to wait and see. Which of the clairs do you have?”
“Excuse me? I don’t—”
“The clairs, darling. There are five main ones. Clairvoyance is clear seeing—that means you see images, or the actual person in spirit. Claircognizance is clear knowing. It means you have well-developed intuition, you just know. Then there’s clairaudience, clear hearing—in other words, you hear messages from spirit. And there’s clairgustance, clear tasting. If you have that ability, spirit might give you the taste of a flavor that’s meaningful to the sitter—that’s the person you’re giving the message to. And clairsalience, which is clear smelling—you might smell a flower or a perfume that the sitter identifies with. Some mediums have all the clairs, but most just have one or two.”
Struggling to grasp the mass of information, Jessica deliberately slowed her breathing, keeping herself bound to the present instead of going off into a syncope episode. “I think I must have clairaudience because I hear the voices. I’ve started seeing images and sometimes whole people, so that was clair—?”
“Clairvoyance. Well, dear, others may come along as you develop.”
“Develop? This is all so new to me—how do I know—”
“Don’t upset yourself. It will unfold as you learn to sit in the power.” At Jessica’s questioning look, Bella continued. “Find a quiet place where you won’t be disturbed. Close your eyes if you like, and imagine yourself surrounded by a column of white light that goes up into the heavens and down into the earth. Ask spirit for only the best and highest energies to protect you. Remember how we asked that in the prayer yesterday? You see, luv, not all energies have your best interests in mind. Open your chakras—you know about chakras?”
“A little. They’re different energy centers through the body, right?”
“That’s right,” said Bella, beaming as though Jessica was her star pupil. “Open your chakras and concentrate on your breathing. Don’t try to make anything happen, just let it happen naturally. It might take some practice. Or, since you’re already in touch with spirit, you might start getting messages straight away.
“You might meet a spirit guide or an angel, or maybe your grandmother Elizabeth. If that happens, you can ask questions and see what answers you get. While you’re in the light, nothing can hurt you.”
“I will do that, thank you, Bella. But I have a question. Is it possible to—I’m not sure how to ask this—to connect with someone who’s missing?”
“Someone who is still on the earth plane, you mean?”
“Yes. At least, I think so. It’s a young child. He may be in danger. I’m hoping to locate him.”
Bella’s forehead wrinkled into a slight frown as she considered the question. “It’s quite possible, but there’s no guaranty, you see, dear. The process would be the same, but that’s more on a psychic level. Here’s what I would do if I were you. Put on some nice meditation music and sit in the power, ask spirit to step into your energy and merge with you. Focus on the name of the person you want to locate. Ask your guides for help.”
“I have guides?”
“We all have guides, darling, we just have to introduce ourselves. Now, I’ve got to go. I’ve got someone else coming in, but let’s talk again soon.”
They rose and as Bella walked her to the exit, Jessica decided to create a miniature fairy garden for her as a thank you. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me today. Thank you so much, Bella.”
“Don’t you think another thing about it, luv. You’d do well to come to one of the mediumship classes we hold here. And as I think of it, there’s a well-known medium in Los Angeles who has a development circle. His name is Russell Levine. It’s a bit of a drive, but you might want to sit in some time and see what they’re doing. He’s listed on our website. People come from all over to see him. He’s one of the very few successful physical mediums in the world.”
“I read about physical mediums on your website. I’m not sure I understand how that’s different from the other kind.”
“Mental or evidential mediums deliver regular messages that spirit wants to get through—like what you and I do. Real physical mediumship is quite rare these days. The spirit team that works with the medium from the other side decides in advance who is going to materialize.”
“Someone actually materializes?”
“Oh, yes, dear. Mind you, there has to be a very good reason for them to do so. Like stopping someone from committing suicide or giving a warning or wanting to express regret. Things like that. It’s not something light, done for fun.”
“Sounds incredible. I’ll definitely check it out.”
Bella put her arms around Jessica and gave her a warm hug. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see Sage looking happy again. It’s been too long.”
“He seems very nice.”
‘Nice’ was inadequate, considering the emotions he stirred in her. They arrived at the exit.
“He’s such a dear soul. He’s gone through so much. I was that relieved when they dropped the charges.”
Jessica jerked around. “What charges?”
Bright red blotches bloomed on the medium’s cheeks. “Oh, dear, I must be speaking out of turn. Never mind, luv. Forget I said anything. He’ll tell you all about it when he’s ready.”
TWELVE
Dropped the charges? Charged with what?
It had to be major or why would Bella have mentioned it at all? And why had she then refused to elaborate? Maybe it was something that would stop Jessica from wanting to continue seeing him.
It would have to be pretty bad to do that.
Claudia would know. And if Claudia was matchmaking—as Jessica was quite certain she was—it would not be like her to bring them together if she knew anything awful about him. But if it wasn’t bad, why did Bella say—
“Hey, Jessica, where are you?” Sage’s appearance at the Center’s gate brought her back to earth with a thump. He must be wondering if she always walked around with her head in the clouds.
“Oh, sorry, I was thinking of what Bella said.”
“Was she helpful?”
“She was sensational. I got way more from that visit than I expected.”
“I had a sneaky feeling you two would get along well.”
“Yes, I thin
k we did.”
“Let’s go up to the house,” he said. “I’ll show you around.”
Today, the jungle gym and lawn were deserted.
“Where are children?” Jessica asked.
“They’re in class.” He exchanged waves with a gardener on a riding mower cutting the vast swath of grass around the house. “Thinking about lunch, I bet.”
The foyer of Regina Boles Center for Traumatized Children brought the outdoors inside. Airy, light-filled, flourishing green plants everywhere, which seemed symbolic—the traumatized children growing strong and healthy. The entire back wall was an arched window that looked out onto a field bordered by woods. The architectural details had turned the ranch house into a therapeutic school.
“This is wonderful,” Jessica exclaimed. “It must take a big staff to keep up a place of this size.”
“You’re right, it does.”
“How old are the kids?”
“Four to twelve. At this point we’re not planning to take teenagers. Can’t mix older kids with the little ones. With the kind of trauma they’ve endured, they each need a specialized environment.”
They peeked into two classrooms. More plants, bright colors, modular furniture. The youngest children filled the first classroom. They were seated at low round tables, bent over coloring projects. Their teacher, a fiftyish woman, strolled around, enthusiastically praising them. She looked up and waved at Sage and Jessica with a smile. He waved back.
“We felt that having an older teacher, like a grandma person, would be comforting to the little ones. For the older kids, the teacher is younger, relatable on a different level,” said Sage.
In the second classroom, the tables were empty. The older students sat cross-legged on mats in a semi-circle, their faces rapt as their teacher read to them. She was holding the book so the cover was visible: “The Girl Who Drank the Moon.”
“How long do they typically stay with you?” Jessica asked.
“It’s a basic eight-week program. Intensive therapy helps stabilize them. They have their art therapy classes and playtime, plus two hours of regular schoolwork to keep them up to date and help get them ready to go back into regular school or into a longer-term therapeutic situation. A few stay on if they need to—the most difficult cases. This group is in their last week. If you’d seen them when they arrived compared to now, you wouldn’t believe they were the same kids.”