Paranormal Summer (Indigo Moon Rising)

by Sherry Guyberson

  Downstream the sun was shining and a soft breeze blew the crystal clear current. Flowers danced and birds sang and bathed at the water’s edge. “Is this the stream?” Jillian thought out loud. “Love is one; fear is the other,” she heard a voice say. “You have a choice to love or to fear. Every choice comes down to these two directions.”

  “OH! I get it I get it!” Jillian thought, springing into the shallow water. She faced the stormy waves. With a grimace she thought, “This is fear. It’s hard to go upstream. I won’t get very far, and I’ll become exhausted.” She turned her body to look downstream. She smiled and took a relaxing deep breath and thought, “This is love. I choose to let go and let God.” As she lowered herself into the water she thought, “His current will carry me,” and she slowly began to float downstream. Her face bathed in the sunlight, she saw the bright, blue, cloudless sky overhead as she floated past flowers and butterflies, dragonflies and frogs.

  As she was floating, she saw what looked like a rainbow up ahead, spanning the width of the stream, and she was about to float under it. The rainbow cast a secession of colors into the water, and as she floated through them, she could feel tiny vibrations start from her bottom all the way to the top of her head. She closed her eyes and tried to feel all of the incredible sensations she was experiencing. The water was so soothing on her skin. The lapping of the waves was peaceful.

  When she realized that she had stopped moving, she got up and moved to the water’s edge and out of the stream. There was Illianna and LoneWolf.

  Jillian shrugged her shoulders. “It’s beautiful. Lots and lots of...white!” she said, hoping not to offend him. “Doesn’t it get kinda dull, looking at all the white all of the time? There just seems to be so much space, you could add all kinds of colors here, like artwork,” she said, looking to Illianna.

  “Absolutely! What a brilliant idea,” the wolf said excitedly nodding his head. He sat beside Jillian and looked up into her face and back out into the vast nothingness. “Please make me a picture!”

  “With what?” Jillian asked.

  “With your mind,” the wolf said.

  “Oh, I don’t think I could do it with my mind. I’m not an artist.”

  “Everyone is a creator. Everyone is an artist. Start small,” the wolf said as he looked to the ground in front of them. And just like he had taken shape before Jillian’s eyes, a large canvas began to form in from the cottony fluff.

  “Will that help?” the wolf asked.

  “Yeah, but now what?” Jillian said, shaking her head. She didn’t want to be disrespectful, but didn’t he understand? She looked at Illianna.

  Illianna smiled, “Just 'be'. Close your eyes and relax. Breathe slowly and listen to your breath. Watch everything you see in your mind’s eye. Let yourself feel as it all unfolds.”

  Jillian was realizing that just ‘be-ing’ seemed to help in about every situation, so why not now. So she did just that. She closed her eyes and began to relax all of her body. She started to inhale and exhale slowly, and she concentrated on the sound of her breath, then on her feelings. Then, in her mind’s eye, she pretended to be an artist. Here she knew exactly what to do with the paints, brushes and those tools she didn’t know the names of. She saw herself creating a beautiful landscape of a pond, with the sun high in the sky, its rays of light glistening through the trees. She could feel her body being directed by the joy in her heart as she painted. I AM an artist. Gentle waves moved the lily pads under a mammoth willow tree. A frog jumped into the water from the shore and the water splashed and rippled.

  Pleased at what she saw, Jillian opened her eyes. She flinched. Before her was a girl on the ground sitting at a canvas with her back turned towards Jillian. She was wearing a pink straw sun hat. Jillian blinked two or three times. She had painted the picture of what she had just seen in her imagination. She slowly walked around to the front of the painting and stared. She swallowed hard and her mouth was left wide open. How could it be?

  In the distance she could hear someone humming. She looked into the direction it was coming from and started to walk. As she got closer she saw a young girl, maybe six, sitting in front of a large sketchbook. The little girl was talking to a stuffed bunny rabbit.

  “Will you sing with me this time? How about A SONG TO MY CHILDREN? Huh? Okay, then I’ll hum and you sing the words.” Jillian watched and listened as she approached the little girl. She had closed her eyes and had her head tilted back. A soft melody was resonating from all around them as she hummed to the bunny.

  She opened her eyes and giggled. Looking down at the large sketchbook in front of her, she sat the bunny on her lap. “See this big splat of orange, gold, blue, silver, red, black, purple, green and yellow? Isn’t it beautiful? See all of those gazillion streaming rays of light? See that one? Right there?” She pointed to an area of the painting. “That one is me! And right beside me is you!” she said as she hugged the bunny tight. “We’re kinda like twins! If we all come from the same place, we are all one, right?” she exclaimed.

  Then a perplexed look crossed her face, “But I got the little ears.” She smiled and rubbed noses with the bunny and set her down. “Mirabella, you already know all of this stuff, don’t you? And when you grow up, you are gonna teach all of your baby bunnies this stuff, too!” the little girl said as she sprinkled glitter into the paint.

  “Magnificent, wondrous, stupendous, super-dooper, the whole kit and caboodle! Soooo beautiful. Like 45, 46, 92, 9 million, seventy eleven. Hmm, maybe there aren't words for all of the feelings we have. It's like my heart is huge, and it can never be filled up, because it's like a ball of light that just keeps getting bigger and bigger. No, we just don’t have words good enough, huh?” She said with wide eyed amazement at her painting.

  Jillian watched. This wasn't her; it was Amanda, years and years ago when she was a little girl. Why was she seeing it now? Her attention turned to the older girl. So, who was she?

  She walked towards Illianna, the wolf and the artist. As Jillian looked into the art, she could see all kinds of creatures that weren’t noticeable at first. The details and colors were extraordinary. It looked as if real rays of sunlight shone upon everything and made it glisten. It was breathtaking. “Now my signature,” she said and moved to the bottom left corner with her canvas. She mixed some colors together, and made a splat on the corner. She giggled, and with the back of her brush started in the center of the splat guided more streams of paint outward. Then she dug into her back pocket and pulled out two vials. One she dabbed onto her temples and wrists. Closing her eyes she began to slowly inhale and exhale. A calm look moved over her face. She opened the other vial and poured something into her palm. She then sprinkled it onto the splat. It was the glitter.

  Jillian looked into the girl’s eyes. She didn’t seem to notice that Jillian was even there. The girl took her paintbrush and titled the painting, “God.” She closed her eyes and said out loud “Thank you, for your unconditional, infinite love. I painted your portrait!” she said with a loving smile and took off her hat, laying it on the ground. She had little tufts of hair on her head.

  Jillian’s eyes began to fill with tears. This was Amanda with cancer before she died. She was still filled with so much love. How could she be if she was fighting for her life? She looked at Illianna and the wolf who were watching her.

  “What are you thinking about Jillian?” The wolf’s voice was soft and kind.

  "How Amanda always knew about her connection."

  Taking a deep breath to think a minute, Jillian said “I know the secret. The stone will help remind me of who I AM, what I AM a part of. How my attitude and my feelings of gratitude create my future. When I do for others, I do for myself. We are all a tiny piece of the whole.”

  LoneWolf sat in front of Jillian again, looking into her. “If you could only see yourself through the eyes of God. Unconditional love is allowing. Loving enough to accept without judging. This is how you should love, too. No matter what you
do. Can you imagine creating something with such love, such joy, such intent that you would want it to live in joy in every moment? How you treat everything you come in contact with is important, because you are made from the same Creator.”

  “I see that now. We are all related; we are all connected. That’s why the Golden Rule has been so important. What I do to someone else, I do to myself,” Jillian said as she took a deep breath.

  “You have done a magnificent job, Jillian. You and Illianna,” LoneWolf said, smiling at both of them. “You have done much in a remarkably short time to open your eyes and your heart. Life is scrumptious! Moment by moment, day by day, year by year, bite by bite, taste it, smell it, feel it, and share it!”

  “I will. I will,” Jillian said, moving close to Illianna. She rubbed the back of her neck and hugged her. “Thank you so much, my friend,” she said with so much gratitude and love Illianna had to refrain from crying.

  “Thank you, LoneWolf,” she said running her fingers through his thick fur and scratching behind his ears.

  “You are welcome, Jillian,” LoneWolf said bowing.

  Illianna walked up to him and they nuzzled for a moment. Then she returned to Jillian’s side.

  “Put your hand on my mane and close your eyes. Free your mind and just 'be'. Send your mind to where it knows it must go, and your body will follow. What you are seeking, you have found!”

  Jillian stared at Illianna a long moment. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She relaxed her body from head to toe and held Illianna's mane. As she took another long breath, it began to slow down. She sensed warmth in her chest. A dim light began to grow from deep within her. This light and warmth began to grow and ripple outward. It was extremely soothing. She began to feel the rumbling. The vibrations got stronger and stronger. And then they stopped.

  Jillian felt like something was coming to an end. "Illianna, will I ever see you again?" Jillian asked, hugging her.

  "I will be in your heart until the next time we meet; there are many others that will help you, too. Even some you would never suspect. Each teacher will present themselves when the time is right."

  As Illianna started to walk away she said over her shoulder, "No one wants to see a frown, think of me and turn it upside down!"

  Jillian smiled and looked down at the pouch around her neck. It was glowing pink. When she looked back up to Illianna, she was gone.

  "Meow,” Jillian looked around. There she was, in her room, and Tiffany Marie was staring at her saying good morning!

  Jillian got up and loved on her awhile, pulled out her journal and started writing, thinking, “I wonder if this would make a terrific book.” Looking at the remaining pages, she realized that this one was about full.

  There was a knock at the door. "Jillian, breakfast."

  She took a deep breath. Something smelled delicious! Jillian got dressed and headed for the kitchen. She started wondering how her mom knew to get the journal for her, and why did it look the same as Amanda's?

  As she passed the frame filled walls, she slowed down, stopped, and turned on the light.

  She started scanning the pictures. Oh my God! She thought. An owl, a snake, smiling damselfly, a little skunk, a bunny with her kits, a large green moth, a red eyed tree frog. It couldn't be... is that Illianna standing next to gramma? And in this one, a bat in flight, could it be Spinmaster?

  Jillian had to stop and think of what this meant. Were these the same animals from her dreams? How could Aunt Jana have photographed all of them?

  And there were two frames she hadn't noticed before. One held a handkerchief with cross stitched words and ornate crewel edging. "Count every blessing along the way; you’re the one to make it a great day." It had a little A, for Adeline. And another frame had what looked like yellowed parchment paper with ragged edges in it. The ink looked like it was written with a quill, extremely old and fancy cursive. “A Song to My Children,” was the title to the poem.

  Jillian blinked. What? She swallowed hard. She felt goose bumps.

  She went to the kitchen for breakfast with more questions than hunger now. But how could she ask Aunt Jana so many questions without spilling all of the beans.

  "Good morning! Boy that sure smells delicious! Uh, some of those pictures in the hallway are phenomenal!" Jillian said to her aunt as she poured some orange juice. "All of the butterflies and frogs, and the white horse with Gramma Adeline. How did you take all of them?"

  "Oh, yeah!" Aunt Jana said, piling some pancakes onto a plate. "You know, Amanda took some of those. And those were all 35mm, which was back before photo editing. She was adept at about everything she tried."

  Jillian almost choked on her juice. “Amanda? This is getting crazier and crazier, “she thought.

  "Well good morning! Come on in and have some breakfast!" Aunt Jana said as she was opening the back door for someone. "I thought I had made too much, guess I made just enough," he said, as she fixed another plate of pancakes and set them on the table.

  "Thank you," Sonya said as she sat down.

  Jillian was extremely happy to see her; she had so much to talk about! But she knew that she should wait until they were out of earshot. After they finished their pancakes, they cleaned up their dishes, and Jillian planned on going to her room to talk. As they headed down the hallway, Sonya slowed down to look at everything that was hanging on the walls.

  "Well, you're not going to believe this. You know that stone my aunt gave me for my birthday? It originally belonged to my aunt. She died when she was 13. And she's been talking to me."

  "Okay, your 13 year old dead aunt is talking to you. What else?" Sonya said, still studying the pictures.

  "Somehow when I go to sleep I have dreams and I am with this horse that talks to me. She's kinda like a guide in all of these places we go. Her name is Illianna, and she introduces me to other talking animals. Oh, sometimes when she talks to me, it's telepathically," Jillian said, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

  "So, you are talking to animals, and they are talking back to you? Okay, what else?" Sonya said, turning to look at her.

  "I have been able to feel the emotions of a dead woman who lost her child. She was taking over my body and talking through me, and I sometimes I know what is going on, and at others, all I can remember are the feelings," Jillian said, putting her hands on her hips.

  "Uh huh, dead woman using your body to talk. Got any more?" Sonya said putting her hands on her hips.

  Jillian looked around in thought, "Nope, that's about it. This has been a pretty average summer vacation for me!"

  "Well, I have a question for you," Sonya said, turning around to look at the pictures. "Is this Amanda?" she said, pointing to a photo.

  "Yeah, that's her, that's my aunt. She is the one who has been talking to me. Come on." Jillian grabbed Sonya's arm and ran down the hall to the staircase and up the stairs. She slowly walked up to Amanda's bedroom door and turned the knob. The door swung open, and Sonya stood there in the hall. She nodded and sighed. Her eyes rolled up, and then they closed. She took a long, slow breath. Opening her eyes, she walked in and slowly looked around.

  Jillian was waiting to hear something like, “I see her,” or “I hear her.” Instead Sonya said, "This is where she passed," as she sat down on the bed. "She was sick, but she kept such an attitude of peace. It wasn't like she was mad, wasn't gonna fight. It was just like getting on, just another step. But she didn't get older. She just finally felt like, it's time now, I can go. So she released her body and...," Sonya was trying to find the right words, using her hands, "like expanded, and dispersed, but then there was such an explosion. Love isn't the right word. Light isn't the right word. I can see it, but the words don't match the tremendous feelings," she said, turning to look at Jillian. "I think it means she returned to spirit." Tears welled up in her eyes.

  "She said we made an agreement to be together, and she left early, so she is going to help me from the other side. That is possible, isn't it?" Jilli
an said, sitting down on the bed next to Sonya.

  "I guess so. This week we've seen a lot, well, and you've felt a lot. It all seems so science fiction-ish. I'm sorry for what I said at the cabin the first night. I thought you and Ryan were playing me and I was gonna get hurt again. I don't know if I will ever get used to opening myself up and letting someone in. They have always ...had ulterior motives. And I get so excited, so happy, so high that somebody wants me, that somebody is there to truly get to know me and...I end up feeling used and thrown away like a wrapper on the street, rolling in the wind to get run over, into oblivion," Sonya said, finally trusting someone enough to expose her most heartfelt pain to. "So Amanda isn't your spirit guide, right? Aren't they the ones who have never been alive in a human body?" Sonya asked, taking a deep breath and refocusing.

  "I think that's it. Maybe she's like Mrs. Baker. She is in spirit, had a body at one time, and passed, and is like a helper of sorts," Jillian said thinking out loud. “She said we had already planned this, the challenges I would face. Really, so far I wouldn't say I have had any challenges this summer, except to figure out what my gifts are and to learn how to use them."