Teenage Psychic on Campus

by Pamela Woods-Jackson

  We were silent on the drive over to her store, Mom concentrating on her driving and probably thinking of all the inventory she needed to replenish before the holiday shopping season, and me thinking about Gary. Not thinking about him thinking about him, but just considering some things. Like last summer when I was still hurting from Quince’s rejection and definitely hadn’t been interested when Annabeth tried to set me up with him. And like how I had loathed him when he called me Carolyn that day on campus after I’d seen him talking to some ghost. And then I wrote that scathing review of his Pride and Prejudice audition, mostly out of spite. And how we pooled our respective talents to find Eddie Carson.

  And now I was meeting him because we had to finish what we started, and get Eddie back where he belonged. I was pretty sure we’d need help from both the living and the dead to accomplish that.

  Peterson’s Coffee Emporium is a chain of coffee houses where a person can order a quick coffee to go, or sit down at a table and drink it leisurely. They are all over Indianapolis, and popular with both kids and adults. Mom was right about one thing, though. I don’t drink coffee because the caffeine always sends my sixth sense into overdrive. I’ve always preferred soothing herbal tea. Fortunately at Peterson’s, they have as good a selection of teas as they do coffee.

  Mom dropped me off at Peterson’s and then went to work. The coffee shop was pretty quiet because the morning rush was over, so I sat down at my favorite table by the window overlooking the main street in Rosslyn Village’s trendy shopping district to wait for Gary. After a while I checked my phone for both time and messages and groaned when I saw that it was nine fifteen and no texts. I ordered some mint tea, took it back to the table and wondered if I’d been stood up.

  But then Gary sailed through the door out of breath, wearing a thick navy blue pea coat with no hat or gloves. He blew on his hands as he scouted out the room until he spotted me. He lifted his head in greeting and hurried over.

  “Sorry I’m late, but the earliest bus available didn’t pick up till eight forty-five.”

  I motioned to a chair. “No problem.” Gary hesitated as his eyes drifted toward the counter. “Go get your coffee first,” I told him. We had a lot to discuss, and the guy was a caffeine junkie who wouldn’t be able to focus without his fix.

  Gary returned, hung his coat on the back of his chair, and sat down across from me to address his latte. “So,” he said after a few swallows, finally glancing up at me. “Lucy popped in yesterday.”

  I winced. “Still hasn’t crossed over?”

  Gary took a few more sips before answering. “No, she’s not going anywhere till her boy’s taken care of. She’s pretty adamant that he can’t go back to Clyde.”

  “I agree.” I was trying to let Gary tell me if he had any information I didn’t already know, but I was bouncing nervously in my seat, about to burst with what I knew. We both sipped our drinks in silence. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Eddie’s father is…”

  While at the same time Gary said, “Eddie has a father…”

  We both stopped, stunned.

  I pushed my cup aside and leaned my arms on the table. “What do you know?”

  Gary fortified himself with a large swallow of coffee and shook his head. “You go first.”

  “Okay, so I know who—and where—Eddie’s bio dad is.”

  Gary’s eyes widened. “How…?” But he stopped short. “Oh, right. Well, I just found out last night that Eddie even has a father. So who is he?”

  I gulped. I had no idea how I was going to break this to him. But while I was mulling over my options, Uncle Omar popped in. He fully materialized, dressed in his military olive green T-shirt and camouflage pants, and took a seat in the chair next to Gary. I ducked my head and stifled a giggle.

  “What?” Gary asked.

  “Uncle Omar decided to join us.” I let my eyes drift toward the chair. My uncle leaned back on two legs and Gary’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when the chair seemingly moved on its own.

  Gary took some loud gulps of hot coffee, then winced and fanned his burning tongue. “I’ve seen lots of ghosts, but that”—he pointed to the chair—“is weird.”

  “I’m not a ghost.” Uncle Omar set the chair back down, much to Gary’s relief. “Caryn, keep what you know to yourself. Let it play out in real time.” And then my uncle vanished.

  Ohmigod, I did not expect that. Now I had to stall. “My uncle says to remind you he isn’t a ghost, but he had to leave.”

  Gary glanced at the now-empty chair out of the corner of his eye. “Then why was he here? In my experience, they always have an agenda.”

  “Um, well…” I stopped to think. How was I supposed to deflect Gary’s questions? “Well, you know tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, and stuff’s going down…”

  Gary rolled his eyes. “What is going down?”

  “You’ve said enough,” Uncle Omar warned me.

  I waved him away like I’d done earlier, but Gary wasn’t going to buy that I was trying to swat a fly any more than Mom had. I shook my head. “Sorry, but my uncle’s saying for me to leave it alone, let events unfold like they’re supposed to.”

  Gary sighed and slumped down in his seat. “Great. So you and”—he pointed upward like he thought my uncle was floating on the ceiling or something—“your spirit guide are keeping secrets.”

  I felt bad for him. Yes, he was involved in all this, but I had to follow both my instincts and Uncle Omar’s advice. Then I had an idea, maybe a way to distract Gary. “Say, would you like to see my mom’s store? It’s a new age bookstore, so you might like it. Anyway I promised her I’d help with inventory.”

  “Nice dodge.” Gary gave me a half-smile, nodded and pulled on his coat, and then—drumroll—helped me on with mine.

  Common sense and Uncle Omar forced me to leave out some important information, but we still found things to talk about. We walked down the block from Peterson’s to Bethany’s New Age, chatting about school, the weather, and plans for Thanksgiving. Gary even seemed impressed with my plans to join Annabeth again this year to help serve the charity dinner.

  Gary paused in front of Mom’s store, studied the exterior, and gave it an approving nod. I had to admit that meeting Gary this morning was fun, and I hadn’t had a good time like that in months. It was a relief to spend time with someone who didn’t judge me. I could see Mom’s knowing smile as we walked in.

  ****

  I saw some psychic clients mid-afternoon, since Mom planned to close the store early Wednesday evening. Business was slow most of the day, probably because most of her regulars were home getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner. Of course we were both hoping they would come back with their pocketbooks wide open on Black Friday.

  I told her I had one last client coming at six. “You can go if you want, Mom. I’ll lock up.”

  “Then how will you get home?” Mom shook her head as she untied her green work apron with the big, round Bethany’s New Age logo on the front, and hung it on the coat hook near the register. “No, I’m not leaving you alone here with some random client. I’ll be in the office working on the books.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the back of the store, effectively closing the subject. I sighed, but she did have a point about the transportation thing.

  The old-fashioned bell atop the antique entryway door jingled. I turned to see…Gary? I blinked a couple of times from across the room before realizing it was Ned Harrington strolling in. His blond hair and deep blue eyes had me fooled for a moment. He was wearing an expensive-looking gray wool overcoat over his business suit, and a tie with muted colors peeked out from under the collar.

  I walked over and extended my hand. “Hi, Ned. You’re right on time.”

  Ned’s eyes shifted nervously around the store as he offered his own hand to shake.

  “Don’t worry, we’re alone. Mom closed the store early.” I didn’t think it was a good idea to mention that she was still here. No need to spook the guy.
r />   “Speaking of spooks…”

  My eyes widened in surprise. I put my hand over my mouth to pretend-cough. “Uncle Omar. What are you doing here?”

  “Just looking out for your best interests, Niece.”

  I groaned. “I don’t need any help.”

  “Don’t need help with what?” Ned asked.

  It unnerves people when I talk to my spirit guide out loud, but even though I was pretty sure I had this particular psychic reading under control, it was always good to know I had backup. With a smile that I hoped would put him at ease, I turned to Ned. “Why don’t we talk out here instead of the back room?” I pointed to the comfy reading area near the book section. Ordinarily I didn’t use this space for readings, but Ned and I were the only ones here (except for Mom in the back office, which Ned didn’t need to know about, and of course Uncle Omar, which he also didn’t know about), so we couldn’t be overheard. At least not by Mom.

  Ned gave a hesitant nod and followed me. I sat in the armchair and pointed to the sofa. Before sitting down on the farthest edge from me, he did a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure we couldn’t be observed through the store windows. But that was the beauty of this cozy reading area that Mom so tastefully designed, because it was pretty well secluded from street view.

  I leaned back against the cushions in an attempt to get comfortable, but it didn’t really work because I felt as nervous as Ned looked. “So what did you want to talk about?” Maybe we needed to ease into it.

  “Aw, come on, Caryn, get to it,” Uncle Omar said a little too loudly in my right ear.

  I tried to appear nonchalant while I rubbed my ear.

  “Well, then, I’ll be forced to bring in reinforcements,” Uncle Omar said. He gave a courtly bow, extended his arm like he was welcoming the star of the play onto the stage, and Ned’s grandmother Olivia materialized. I wrinkled my nose at the cigarette smell that accompanied her and coughed for real.

  “Are you okay?” Ned asked.

  I waved away the nonexistent smoke, which miraculously disappeared. “Your grandmother is here.”

  Ned sort of gasped as he loosened his tie, but he didn’t say anything to disrupt my concentration.

  I listened to Olivia and then passed on her message. “She says you’ve come a long way in your relationship with Gary, but you still have work to do.”

  Ned was too nervous to stay seated. He stood up, unbuttoned his overcoat, and started pacing back and forth in front of the book stacks. “Well, of course I do. What I need is advice on how to proceed with Gary. And his mother.”

  “Tell him he isn’t going to make headway by lurking in shadows,” Uncle Omar said.

  “Give me a chance,” I snapped back, which made Ned glance at me funny. I sighed. “Just so you know, I’m not talking to myself. I have a spirit guide with a wicked sense of humor and no patience. He suggests you make your intentions known to both Gary and Brenda.”

  Ned collapsed onto the sofa. “How? Every time I get near Gary he growls at me or just runs off. And Brenda…” His voice trailed off as he lowered his head into his hands, his eyes misting over.

  “Caryn, dear, you must tell him about his son’s abilities.”

  I nodded because I knew what Olivia meant. “What do you know about Gary?” I asked Ned.

  The expression on his face was like he’d replied duh. “That he’s my son.”

  “And…?”

  He bit his lip for a moment and took a deep breath. “I know he’s angry at me, and very protective of his mother. And he’s one helluva Shakespearean actor.”

  “All true,” I said. “But did you know he can talk to ghosts?”

  “What?” Ned jumped to his feet. “Where did you get an idea like that? Listen, if you’re just making stuff up—”

  “No, not at all.” I motioned for him to take his seat again. Once he appeared somewhat calmed down, I continued. “Gary’s been able to see and talk to earthbound spirits since he was a little kid.”

  Ned didn’t seem convinced. “What are you saying? He’s like you?”

  I shook my head. “I’m psychic, and believe me I have no idea how that works. I’m also a medium, meaning I can talk to spirits who have crossed over, like your grandmother and my Uncle Omar, who are both here by the way.” I stifled a grin when Ned’s eyes darted all around looking for anything paranormal. “However, I can’t see ghosts who are stuck here like Gary does. But he’s not psychic or a medium. I guess you could say our skills offset each other.”

  Ned took several deep breaths, swallowed hard, and ran his fingers through his hair in that same gesture Gary used so often. “Well, even if I buy any of this hocus-pocus, what’s it got to do with my relationship with my fam…with my son and his mother?”

  This was the hard part. I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair and shifted in my seat. How do I say this? “Well, see, Gary’s recently been visited by the ghost of a woman named Lucy, and she’s refusing to cross over until her son Eddie is safe.”

  Ned lifted an eyebrow. “Relevance?”

  Okay, that made me feel like I was being cross-examined in court. I squirmed a little while I thought this through. I’d hoped Ned would recognize the name Lucy, but he didn’t seem to make the connection. And the look he was giving me meant he probably thought I was scamming him, so I closed my eyes, fully opened my energy and let the movie run in my head. Suddenly I was slammed in the gut with how the scenario played out. My eyes popped open.

  “What do you see?” Ned asked.

  “Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, right?” Ned didn’t respond because it was a pretty lame observation on my part. “What I mean is, I’m seeing you going to your son’s house—Brenda’s house—late afternoon.”

  Olivia beamed at me and then stepped back into the ether.

  “Why would I do that?” Ned asked.

  What I wanted to say was, Because you need to talk to Gary and see for yourself that he can communicate with ghosts. Instead I said, “I can’t explain it now, but I promise it will all make sense.”

  Ned stood up, buttoned his coat, and handed me a hundred dollar bill, causing me to gasp in surprise. “I’ll think about it, but it sounds like a waste of time.” And without another word he left, the doorbell jingling loudly. It occurred to me that he and Gary had something else in common—a quick temper.

  I exhaled and I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath. “Do you think he’ll show, or did I screw up, Uncle Omar?”

  Slowly my uncle materialized on the sofa where Ned had just been sitting moments before. “No, you did the right thing. Lawyers have to have proof.”

  I felt a little guilty about not coming clean about what I was pretty sure was going to happen. “So now I’ve stalled both Gary and his dad.” The rest of the vision replayed in my head on hyper-drive. I shivered. “If it plays out like what I just saw, you’d better make sure she is there.”

  Uncle Omar grinned, winked, and faded away.

  Chapter 15

  Annabeth pulled her car up into the driveway of our house to let me out. She glanced over at me before checking out her look in the rearview mirror. “Girlfriend, you look as tired as I feel.”

  “Getting up at six a.m. on Thanksgiving Day will do that to you.” Taking my cue from her, I pulled down the passenger side visor and looked at my reflection. “Ugh. I need a shower.” I pulled a piece of turkey out of my hair. “And a shampoo.”

  Annabeth started laughing and used her cell phone to snap a photo of the two of us. I leaned in and mugged for the camera. “Not as good as my thirty-five millimeter, but it’ll do for social media.” She tapped some keys on the phone and sent the picture on its way.

  “Please put in there the reason we look like this,” I said. “It was all for a good cause.”

  Annabeth nodded and tapped in some text. “I’m captioning it ‘Just back from the Morris Sutton Thanksgiving Dinner. Served thousands.”

  Even though Annabeth and I have helped out with
this charity dinner for the last three years, I’m still amazed at how exhausted I feel afterwards. Yet despite being tired, I was exhilarated. We not only dished up lots of plates of food, we helped pack carryout boxes for delivery to people who couldn’t come to us.

  “Go get your shower,” Annabeth said, putting her phone away. “I’ll pick you up at four.”

  I groaned and leaned back against the seat. “You mean we’re really going?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Gary invited you for dessert at his mom’s, and then Brenda told him to include Sean and me, so we’re going. Now go get gorgeous.”

  I waved goodbye as I closed the car door. I’d already seen this scenario at Brenda’s playing out in my head a few times, so I knew what was coming. At least I thought I did. Since spirits and ghosts can be totally unpredictable, who knew what could happen?

  ****

  Brenda seemed to be doing mental math as she stared at her baked goods. “How many people did you invite for dessert? I hope I made enough.” She studied the apple, pumpkin and pecan pies laid out on her kitchen counter and ticked off the number of guests on her fingers. “Let’s see, you, me, Eddie, Sean, Annabeth, and…” She tossed a sideways glance at Gary, “…Caryn?”

  Gary knew what his mom was getting at, so he dodged that minefield. “Yeah, well, you always bake too many pies and they go to waste.”

  “Get out some plates,” Brenda said. “I’m going to go freshen up.” She headed toward the stairs to her bedroom.

  Gary took seven mismatched plates out of the cupboard.

  “They look yummy,” a voice behind Gary said.

  Gary nearly jumped out of his skin and in his surprise, juggled the plates to keep from dropping them. He knew it was Lucy, so he carefully set the dishes next to the desserts before turning around. “How many times have I—”

  “Yes, I know, don’t sneak up on you. Next time I’ll let out a ghostly wail.” She leaned over the counter for a closer look at Brenda’s pies. “I missed having Thanksgiving with Eddie,” she said with a hint of sorrow in her voice. “But your mother’s pumpkin pie looks better than mine ever was.”