by Leia Howard
My expectation met reality in the form of Sheriff Lowell. Sheriff Lowell didn’t let my limitations get in the way of teaching me how to grow my own food, enroll in online college courses, and a myriad of additional skills he deemed necessary. He even trusted me to babysit his eight-year-old daughter, Sheridan. Sheridan, called Dani, is now my office manager. With Dani working for me, I’ve increased my consultations to five a week and my afternoons are set aside to provide this service. I work one case per day, except Thursdays and Sundays.
I am a type of touch clairvoyant, or TouchVoyant. I provide information gleaned from favorite objects, clothes, jewelry, sometimes even pictures of people. I try to keep surface impressions garnered from casual contact out, but it requires great effort to always be closed off. Instead, while in company or in places other than my own dwelling, I wear gloves with finger and palm grips. I also wear jeans, socks, and boots as well, to avoid casual brushing of objects that others used. Only in the privacy of my home, a three-bedroom adobe house on a remote bit of land several miles from the office, do I discard my gloves and socks, wear clothing like cut-offs or tank tops, and just fully relax.
I open the laptop at the corner of the table in my consultative area. I quickly log onto the Psycept Case database and mark the packages Received by Psycept Consultant for tracking purposes. I have a small digital camera and a couple of mic-stands set up to record my torso, arms, and voice during my sessions. I prefer to film it on a camera, rather than my phone, because it provides separation of duties. It feels more businesslike to use office equipment rather than my personal technology, though my consultations are free per the terms of my residency contract. I clear the packages off the top of my table, leave my laptop in the corner, and lay a soft turquoise large cloth on the surface, then press the remote for the camera and the mics to begin recording.
CHAPTER TWO
I grab the package with the oldest case number and open it. Inside the small box is the petition form inserted into a plastic report cover listing the details of the consultation requested by the petitioner, Bettie Michard. More items were included in the package, each sealed in its own individual plastic bag. A favorite t-shirt that had not been washed since the disappearance, a water coloring book, and a much-loved stuffed toy. I read the form to refresh my memory while taking the objects out of the box and lining them up on the cloth, then sit in my comfortable chair.
Attached to the back of petition form was a picture of the little boy in question, James “Jamie” Michard. Jamie was seven years old when he had disappeared from an outdoor birthday party at a neighborhood park in Leadington, Missouri. At first, the search was local, including the woods of the nearby St. Joe State Park. By the end of the day, Jamie wandering off was ruled out and the case was reclassified as an abduction, an Amber Alert was issued, the search expanded to the rest of Missouri and the neighboring states, and a tip line started. However, none of the tips and sightings reported led to any credible evidence. It has been over two years since Jamie was last seen at the May birthday party. The grandmother, Bettie, chose to bypass the police and apply directly for Psycept assistance. I don’t know if the original police investigation applied for assistance, there was no prior case linked nor history noted on the petition when I accepted the case a couple of weeks ago.
I placed the form and the picture in the box and tucked the box beside me. The other two unopened packages lay on a low table out of camera site, waiting for their turn to be read in the next few days. The picture is a last resort in case the personal items yield no clear direction. The picture had to be clutched by the petitioner and they must think of memories of the person in the photograph. Even then, I usually perceive more information about the petitioner holding the picture than the person in question.
I like to start with the least sentimental item as it is easier to obtain surface impressions from, then finish by reading the most sentimental. Performing object readings can be draining and wiping myself out with the first object means that I must return later to read the other objects, which is not ideal. I have performed readings for many years and developed internal protocol and procedures. The paperwork inside the package summarizes the consultation and I fine tune the time frames I read based on the petition information. The requested items sent when I accept the petition help me focus on the person I need to read. But it is my will and skill that allow me to follow along the memory thread to the time I need to cover.
Many might question why I request three sentimental objects as well as a picture. While the objects primarily help me focus on the person, they also serve to interact with their waves. When I hold an object, it links me to a person. Think of each person like their own small lake. Each lake has protective waves that push me away from the inner core. Some waves are small, corresponding to routine memories. The least sentimental object might serve as floatation. Other waves are larger and may require a paddle board or kayak, which the item of medium sentiment then becomes. Finally, I need a boat to traverse the deepest waves and the most sentimental objects transform into the boat.
In essence, I use an object to access a person’s memory lake and to buffer me from the protective waves of the lake. I ride the waves to reach a memory thread in the air above me. Lesser memories are contained on a ribbon that merely tickles. More substantial memories are a lash that whips around and stings me. The most significant memories appear as a thick rope that bombards me with the force of its blows.
When I link to the individual’s lake, I arrive at the center, near the memory thread origin. The waves push me away and I ride them along the memory thread until I reach the time that I wish to read. My innate talent allows me to find the specific segment of memory thread that represents the timeframe in question. I then grasp the thread at that point to read it. Each object can only be used once, I can only read the memories forward from the point of first contact with the memory thread, and it’s difficult for me to read more than three objects total for any petition. Simple enough, right?
All memory threads have a beginning origin, this corresponds to birth. I do not read births, too hard to reach for very little payoff. As for the end of memory thread, only the rope memory thread is able to hold a knot at the end, if there is one. The knot signifies the death of the person. The rope is the only one strong enough to carry the weight of a death memory. Sometimes the knot tells me if the spirit is at peace. If the knot is linked to another lake, this means the person has returned in another life. I never tell a petitioner of the feelings of the knot at the end, it’s not my place. I also try to limit the memories I reveal, even for murder inquiries. I am protecting the memory holder’s last thoughts as well as not burdening the petitioner with all the feelings present. Death is an enormous memory to divulge and should be handled with care. I try to bring the memory holder and the family peace, while also supplying the police with the minimum information necessary to aid their investigation.
Now to begin the reading. I remove my elbow length gloves from under the sleeves of my t-shirt and set them next to the cloth. For the record, I state the date, time, petition number, and James’ name and date of birth. I first select the water coloring book, as it has mellow waves emanating from it. After removing the plastic protection, I close my eyes. Now, I am drifting on a small wave and see a ribbon floating in the air above me. I ride the small wave to what feels like the appropriate time, then grab ahold of the ribbon.
“Sunlight through green leaves. The smell of flowers, I turn my head to the right and see wildflowers, maybe. I don’t know the name, but the main batch of flowers is a white flower that has eight petals, canary yellow stamen, and a pale greenish-yellow stigma and a darker green style. It’s mid-morning; the sun shadows make it seem to be at 10 a.m. I see a few bees amongst the flowers and it doesn’t seem to be too warm yet. Typical Spring morning. I hear a woman’s voice calling my name, but the woman is on the other side of a corner or curve, like a bench or a playground platform, and it’s blocking my
eyeline to the left. I somewhat recognize the voice but don’t remember the name. Maybe a neighbor, or someone from school or church. Psycept here, nothing else is coming from the water coloring book; end of impression.”
I put the coloring book back on the cloth, pause the recordings, then take a sip of the water from the hydration bottle sitting on a lower extension of the table and write a few notes down to include in my written report. Before returning to the reading, I use a small dollop of hand sanitizer. This is a mild ritual I perform, not for cleanliness reasons, but to help release me from the reading. Resuming the recordings, I grab the next item, the t-shirt.
“I am in the backseat of a moving vehicle but am not facing forward. It is like I am seated lengthwise, or at least the upper part of me is as I feel the seat pressed against my right side. I am a bit groggy, but I can still look out the window across the seat, so I must be sitting on the driver’s side. It appears I am of a higher sightline, so maybe in a truck or SUV. The headrest and the seat in general are a bit too high for me to see around and I can’t move my head to the left to see into the front seats. Maybe something is pining my head to the seat, I’m not sure. I think I’m in an SUV though, as it feels as if there is empty space behind the seat. Returning to look out the opposite window, I feel as if I am heading in a generally west or southwest direction. It must be near sunset, I can hear cicadas. And I see that the shadow the vehicle casts is long and goes off to the right. I don’t see a bed on the shadow, it must be an SUV.
“Focusing back in the vehicle, it does not have trash in the back that I can see, and it smells like a new air freshener, apple scent, or maybe the vehicle was recently cleaned. I do not hear any music coming from the front seats, nor do I hear conversation. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the side of an arm in the passenger seat, and it appears as if a knee is angled toward the driver’s seat. Based on the arm and knee, I believe that the passenger is female. I do not see a neck or head, so supposedly the person is leaning against the passenger window. That makes driver plus passenger, I do not sense anyone else in the vehicle; I hear no breathing or movement. Psycept speaking, Jamie is resting his eyes now, he is about to go back to sleep. The reading of t-shirt has ended.”
I pause the recording. The impressions from the t-shirt were more extensive and I read the timeline for much longer than I spoke of, but still my throat was beginning to ache from speaking so much. Drinking water, I write more notes. I still have the final item to read and was dreading it. For many reasons, stuffed toys are almost always the item of most sentiment to younger children. When sentimental objects span years with the memory holder, it can take longer to hone in on the time period I need to, and the waves and rope are fierce.
So far, I read two of the strongest impression threads concerning that time period surrounding his abduction. I usually start out by a reading right before the event in question. I read along the thread as far as I can, looking for clues to be had. For ropes, I first feel the air around it. The cooler the air, the more likelihood that a knot will be found at the end, signifying death. Those signs will dictate how far along the rope I will attempt to read. If there is a knot on the rope, then I cannot read much before the death. Death memories take their toll and I must fight for each minute or hour before the death that I can. I resume recording with the stuffed hammer pillow. That’s new, usually it’s a stuffed animal of some kind. No judgement, it’s nice to have a bit of variety.
Taking a deep breath, I begin. The wave is large and intent on drowning me, even though I’m in a boat. The thick rope pummels me, and I feel the cold emanating from it. With a heavy heart, I follow the rope until I encounter the knot. The recording will only show a long pause before I began to speak.
“It feels cooler out, but not cold. I see mid-sized trees, with the first split in the trunk low, good for climbing. The leaves are greenish-yellow, orange, and deep red. Leaves are turning, so Fall. I smell almonds, but I don’t see any almond trees. I see small fruits that look like cherries, or maybe a small plum that I’ve never seen before. Below the wide-spread limbs, I see a new mound of dirt. To either side are a few, older mounds.
“I begin to explore the area, to see if there is a sign or if I hear anything identifying. I walk along until I come to a trail in the woods, then follow along until I reach a sign. Lake Tenkiller. There is a parking area with hookups, like for RVs, but the area seems to be abandoned. Or is it a spillover lot only used when the main lots are full? There doesn’t seem to be too many hookups, so it may be an unused portion of a larger lot. Since I could see moss facing me on the trees most of the way here, I must’ve walked southward to reach this abandoned lot. Psycept here, I’m sorry, I did not see how long it took me to get here. Time and distance are not perceived well in impressions. I am not getting much more from this impression, end of reading.”
Now came the hard part. “Mrs. Michard. To my sorrow, I’ve only poor news to share. I believe the information provided by the third impression gives clues to where your grandson is buried. This is a difficult thing to do, take away your hope. I am optimistic that enough information was provided to aid in finding Jamie’s final resting place. I wish you to have conclusion to the uncertainty of his whereabouts.”
I turn off the recording equipment. The camera is directed down to the top of my desk to observe me placing the objects on the cloth and holding them while I speak the impressions, but my face is never in the frame. I want the focus to be on the objects and my impressions, not my face. It is easier for me to modulate my voice than my facial expressions. Protecting my anonymity while also guarding the thoughts and feelings of the memory holder. I like when something serves two purposes. I burn a DVD of my reading and add it to the return package. The petitioner case will have the video uploaded to database. I write a brief note of sorrow to include in the package. It feels as if most of my cases end with death.
Please accept my condolences…I wish to say that I did not receive any pain or distress from Jamie. He loved his parents and you, and he knew all of you loved him in return.
After placing everything in a return package for the Psycept Police to send back, I wake my laptop and pull up Bettie’s case in the Psycept database. I log the case Read by Psycept, so that the Sully will know my casework will soon be uploaded. Then, I opened the report writing tool.
CHAPTER THREE
My written report is always more detailed than the on-camera reading. Most of my consultations are done for homicides and missing persons, often children. My filmed impression is watched and shared by family members and I try to provide a version of events that might be of comfort. My written report is for the Psycept Police and I want to provide as many hard truths and clues as possible. The police then share that information with the law enforcement of the areas involved in the petitioner’s case.
The impressions from the readings are not omniscient. For the most part, I am limited by the person’s perception of the event. I cannot see, hear, smell, taste, or touch anything that the person did not. So, I can’t see an event from any viewpoint, only what the person was able to sense. However, we humans perceive much more than what we are conscious of. We train ourselves to ignore many sensations, like what the clothing we wear feels like, the smell of things, sounds we perceive as normal, etc. We are only cognizant of a small fraction of what we perceive.
So, while I am limited to what the person sensed, I can enhance the experience by unblocking all the sensations that their mind filtered out. I can slow down what is seen, or isolate sounds and smells, or focus on what something feels like. I also know all the person’s inner speech, thoughts, or feelings at the time of the memory. I remain myself, so if the person is unable to read and just sees letters, I can read what they may not know. Same with language heard, etc. If neither of us can identify symbols or speech, I can draw or speak it and let the Psycept Police detective investigate the unknown.
I arrange the written report by item. I include what the person’s m
emory was along with additional notes. I may add my own observations, not known by the subject. Then I write any conclusions that either I or the subject arrived at. Finally, recommendation of information to follow up on. I think my reports are good now. When I first started, I was all over the place.
From the water coloring book, I add, Jamie heard the voice before but did not recognize the person, he felt uneasy. Nothing specific, but just that the last time he heard the voice, he felt that he was hemmed in wanting to get away, and that when his mom came over to check on him, he felt relief. So, at some point, the voice spoke to Jamie in a room and they were either alone or separated from other people, and that Jamie’s mother had some slight interaction with the person.
From the T-shirt, I added – The timeframe was still Springtime, just after the abduction event. Rental car? Car was super clean, had an air freshener smell, and that the people would not want their vehicle to be associated with an abduction and came up with a rental.
-Cicadas generally mean wooded area, but I did not see anything to confirm that; field of vision was limited. Cicadas are also more of a summer insect, usually emerging July-ish, if I am correct. It could be a periodical cicada swarm, like one of those 13 or 17-year emergences in the Spring, but I think they are found more in the eastern part of the United States. May want to check on this information, were there any periodical cicada swarms at the time of Jamie’s disappearance? If so, where?
-In addition to not being able to turn his head much, Jamie seemed disconnected from his limbs. He felt lethargic and fuzzy, so perhaps drugged? I am not suggesting heavy medication, though it may be that, or it could be diphenhydramine or some other sleep-inducing medication. Does the family know if Jamie experiences a paradoxical effect on sedating antihistamines, to rule that out? Jamie felt vaguely panicked at being in a strange vehicle with people he did not know. Their scents were not familiar.