by Gary Starta
DJ believed her initial meeting with Darian had been momentous. He wasn’t just someone who was outwardly attractive or a soul who seemed to understand what she was all about. He also was an investigator at heart. DJ didn’t want to let on that investigating was what she wanted to do. It hurt her to leave it. She was reminded of this last night. When the crop circle was discovered, she felt her heart was going to leap out of her chest. She hadn’t agreed to go out on an investigation, at least not yet. But the tug was there and this wasn’t even a haunting. It was just the thrill of a new discovery. DJ had come to realize in the past few months that investigation and discovery could only rival her love for public speaking and debate. She was back on track to getting her life together, but it was a slow process.
So how could she get back in the game quicker, so to speak? If she opened herself up as a medium, she would be vulnerable to visitations from her mother at all times of day. Still, to work with someone like Darian was enticing. Maybe she could stand a few more visits from Mom . . .
As if Doris had heard her child, her mother appeared as a wispy apparition before morphing into a solid form. In this interim, DJ balled her fist in rage. She had invited this. She shouldn’t be mad. She just had to reason with her mother. That was easier said than done.
Her mother stood before her, arms folded. “I can be just as stubborn. I know you’ve tried to block me. But I’m here for your own good, DJ.”
DJ didn’t fail to notice how her mother accentuated her new name in a mocking tone. It was a reminder of the cold, hard fact that changing her name had little to do with changing her circumstance.
So how do we all just get along—if you refuse to leave? DJ pondered.
She decided to play along with her mother. “Is there something I can help you with, Mom? I’ve come to realize I’ve been selfish. If you’re still visiting me, there must be something you need. So, how about telling me what that is, and then you can move on with your . . . uh, existence.”
“Ah, psychology, or wait, is that philosophy you’re trying on me? In any event, you will make a great orator. So, one reason I am here is to keep you remindful of that. I also need to encourage you to continue on with another part of your life.”
DJ frowned. How could her mother have heard her thoughts? Was this what the dead did? Spy on loved ones . . . or, could it be . . .?
“Okay, I have been considering that. But this is supposed to be about you, not me. It’s obvious you want us to remain together. But there must be something else you need from me? Something that might help you resolve your past? Is there anything I can tell Dad? He was just here today, visiting Iris . . .”
“What I need is bigger than the both of us, DJ. I need you to help your sister. Go visit that ghost and find out what that object is. I have a premonition it has substantial importance.”
“How is that? You were never psychic? Why are you getting premonitions now?”
“I don’t think the how is important. You need to find out the why. Why did that boy find that object? There is a reason—I’m sure of it. Besides, I’m not visiting you for sentimental reasons. I know I can help you, that is why I am still here. I had a paranormal connection so to speak before I met your father. I told Dan one day, and he just accepted it like I was telling him it was going to rain. I know he hid many secrets from us. But, in my death, I realize I withheld a vital piece of information from you and Iris.”
DJ thought about her dad. Was her mother’s premonition manufactured from something in reality? Or, was her mother simply crazy. What the hell was she referring to by paranormal experience? Because Dad supposedly dealt in secret technologies, was this the reason why her mother felt this dial might actually be something other than a toy?
“Okay, Mom. I can see you’re not going away until I act. Consequently, I will consider helping my sister’s investigation if you help me. What do you mean by paranormal experience?”
“I met a man before your father. When I interacted with him . . .”
“You mean had sex with him, Mom.”
“Yes, when I had relations with him. I felt changed on the inside. I started to think of things I never had reason to think about. I saw images of these strange people who couldn’t have been from this earth. I thought I was crazy until I finally realized what your father was up to all these years in the desert. There is intelligent life out there. And a part of it is undoubtedly scary but another part isn’t. And I loved this man. Because I had interactions with him, I believe you were affected by him too when I got pregnant by your father. So don’t worry, Dan is your dad. But also know you may have some special attributes I just can’t account for but know are there. I think these attributes will be important in your investigation. I don’t know how yet. I just do.”
DJ waited for her mother to explain, but she disappeared, as if she were afraid DJ was going to rebel at the news. She was going to bargain for her mother to leave her alone—for good. But now that her mother had just dropped a bombshell, she would reconsider. Just what the hell did she mean by special attributes?
DJ grumbled and turned on her laptop. Maybe there would be some more news about the crop circles. Then she might have a sensible reason to phone Darian.
As she perused a story, her mind wandered. She couldn’t concentrate. DJ was too upset about her parents. Out of the blue, Dad had visited Iris warning her to stay out of any alien investigations, then her mother had morphed from the ether of space, encouraging her to aid in a case that appeared to possess an extraterrestrial slant. Talk about a family divided. And apparently not even death will ever change that fact.
Chapter Seven
DRIVING ALWAYS helped DJ think. Deciding to become an investigator again, DJ couldn’t help but feel a wave of uncertainty. She had told herself on countless sleepless occasions that distancing herself from her psychic gift might put her back on her career track. Yet, being a medium satisfied a deep-seated passion for discovery. No matter how successful she might become in the political arena, where her gift of speech might be rewarded with a senator’s seat, would it ever fulfill her need to try and answer the unanswerable? Or what some might label the really big questions humankind had been asking for millennia?
DJ had had enough of struggling with the dilemma. Her mother was encouraging. Her father was not. Despite what her mother had just revealed, her father acted as if her mother’s relations with another man, perhaps another being, were inconsequential. She wondered if she should try to talk to her father about this. But how would she approach it? It wasn’t like this mystery man was her father. Still, his biological essence had possibly had an impact on her. She still didn’t know exactly what her ghost mom was talking about. She hadn’t had any visions of strange beings from other worlds. How could this impact her? Could this mystery man really have changed her mother’s genetic makeup, which, in turn, changed her? Talk about a paranormal romance! DJ wasn’t even the man’s biological offspring, yet it was almost as if she were. DJ balled a fist and vowed she would block further thoughts about her parents and their “relations” from her mind. She would think about more pleasant things. This pleasant thing in particular had a name spelled with six letters.
Meeting Darian made her realize she wanted to become a ghost hunter again. His appeal went beyond emotional or physical attraction. He made her realize she wanted to choose the path less ordinary, despite the consequences: namely isolation. But if she didn’t feel isolated, she wouldn’t be capable of feeling special. Part of feeling special was the realization you were only one of a handful of people privy to the otherworldly information gleaned by other paranormal investigators. It was painful, but DJ had to admit her sole reason for quitting the ghost hunting team was her mother’s death. She had never felt her gift had interfered with thoughts of continuing her education before. It was the sheer pain of her mother’s parting that made her despise what her gift could do. Before, talking with ghosts had never been personalized. She would never be certain last ni
ght’s choice to willingly talk to the dead again would be correct. But at least she no longer let uncertainty keep her on a fence.
DJ was certain of how her ghost and UFO hunting peers felt. Attempts to mask their elation with somber faces had been unsuccessful. She realized how excited the teams were to have her assistance. She could read Iris best. Her older sister was glad she might provide her client a means to return to their home. But she suspected Kassidy and Rachel were quite curious to discover what the apparition’s connection to the strange occurrences might be. She knew Mitchell and his team were most concerned with finding intel about the object. Still, with all these voices and their motivations shifting about her consciousness, DJ wanted to approach the ghost with an unbiased mind. That was easier said than done.
Darian embraced her in a half-hug as she crossed the threshold into the Morses’ house. It was clear to her, and the rest of the team, that an emotional bond had been established between them. In most cases, investigative teams would frown upon personal involvements. But DJ could sense the teams understood she was extremely impacted by her car accident. Any attempts to discourage future personal distractions would be quite unsuccessful, if not cruel.
Iris nodded to Darian after the young man disengaged his embrace. DJ sensed her sister was fully supportive of their union. She could also detect her sister’s attempt to alleviate Darian’s worries with just a mere look. DJ was well aware how hard non-verbal communication between humans could be. She’d watched her family dissolve because of this. If her whole family had been psychic maybe they could have surmounted their differences.
As DJ mounted the stairway, she kept telling herself this was who she was, for better or for worse, she was a medium. She also might be something more if her ghost mother was correct. She heard mumbling behind her. No doubt they were reviewing protocols. Mitchell and his newly arrived friend, Evan, would hold down fort in the home’s foyer along with Iris. The rest of the teams would wait outside the home, hoping to evoke a sense of respect and peace for the ghost.
Iris had instilled the notion in everybody’s heads—quite a few times during her commute—that peace was paramount. She had not encouraged her sister to aid the team’s investigation only to be injured by floating shampoo bottles. DJ failed to suppress a laugh upon that announcement, sparking a cathartic release of pent up energy from Kassidy and Rachel. DJ understood she was to flee the home at the first sign of poltergeist activity. Yet DJ couldn’t shake the absurd image of a shampoo product being manipulated as a weapon.
To break the ice, DJ couldn’t resist making that her first inquisition.
“So, of all things, why throw shampoo at people? We were here before, as we are here now, to learn who you are and why you’re here. So please speak freely to me. I can hear you. My friends cannot. But we are all here in peace. There is no need to try and dispel us with projectiles.”
DJ glanced to her left and right, noting bedrooms at either end of the hallways and a bath straight ahead. Now the oddness of what Iris’s video had captured hit home with resonance. How could the camcorder have taped rooms that didn’t exist in this location? The thought of the object crept along in the recesses of her mind as if it were a spider, but DJ didn’t want to put words in the spirit’s mouth.
DJ tapped a foot on the floor to combat her anxiety. Yet the medium was fully aware such body language would leave the spirit little doubt how scared she was. Stop it!
The ghost, now tapped into DJ’s consciousness, answered in annoyed confusion. “Stop what? I thought you said you were to converse.”
DJ straightened her posture. “Yes, that’s correct. We are here to converse. Will you allow me ask some questions? We just want to understand your visitation.”
“Ah, yes. You humans are so territorial. Well, we are as well. But it’s different in my world. No matter. I understand I am intruding. I don’t want this to continue for any longer than necessary. If I allow you to ask me questions, will you consider helping me?”
DJ winced. This wasn’t part of protocol. She could almost hear Iris screaming in her ear right now. “Certainly, I suppose it is only fair.” Now DJ wondered if this was how diplomats felt. She doubted it. When diplomats spoke to potential enemies they still had beating hearts.
“I am glad you consider this fair. I have found many of your kind to be unreasonable. Yet you need my assistance. You . . . have always needed assistance. But today, instead of providing it in a shroud of secrecy, I must be forthright. Time is of the essence. I no longer have the physical capability of completing my task. Therefore, I must request your aid.”
DJ nodded. “That sounds all well and fine. But let just confirm. You are . . . dead?”
DJ could almost feel the ghost’s wrath. “Of course I am. Weren’t you listening? I am no longer physically capable. I must request your assistance.”
DJ interrupted. “But if you are dead and you are from another . . . world . . . then . . . Sorry, I’m just trying to comprehend, to categorize you.”
“Finish your thought, child. I am therefore an ‘alien’ ghost. Does that satisfy your need to categorize?”
DJ sensed she could trust the ghost. It was so forthright and angry. She didn’t feel it was duplicitous. Yet she needed to hear it say in its own words what exactly had transpired just a few days ago. “Can you tell me why my friends were greeted with such wrath? You said you wanted their assistance, yet you chased them away. Why did you do that?”
The ghost unleashed a string of unpronounceable consonants and vowels. DJ was certain it was curse words.
“I did not act to harm your friends in any manner. It was the artifact. It possesses what you would consider to be supernatural abilities. I believe it was in close proximity to another otherworldly presence. This other presence, which exists in light form, has baffled us for centuries. It acts as a guiding light, or even a guardian angel, yet these lights never reveal themselves. In any event, these balls of light can cause strange things to occur when they interact with other beings and other things. In fact, I am certain of their interaction. In tandem, a time slip occurred.”
DJ ran a hand through her hair. “So what you’re saying is that no one actually threw the shower products at my friends. That possibly our notion of time was interrupted. If so, why did you allow this to happen—if you wanted our assistance?”
“I could not stop it from doing what it wished, including throwing objects at your sister and her friends. But I did hope an event would occur to encourage the removal of the artifact from the home. It is dangerous. I would suggest you contain it—away from humans.”
“We have.”
“Good.”
“Now can you tell us where the artifact originated?”
“It has many origins. I don’t think that’s your true question anyway. I can confirm it came from a disabled satellite. I witnessed the event but was powerless to assist. I know a boy retrieved the artifact and brought it to this residence. That is why I’m here.”
“And is that the reason why you’re ‘here’ in our world?” DJ eyes scanned both bedrooms and the bath. So far, she was speaking to a disembodied voice. She had to wonder if this being was somehow a relative if what her mother had said was true. Maybe that was why it allowed a discussion. As weird as her mother’s revelation sounded, DJ began to consider her DNA was not entirely human.
“I am here as a protector. I installed the artifact into the satellite to shield your atmosphere from attack. It is very important you understand my benevolence. You must trust me and take this artifact to a place where it can again shield your planet from harm. A very desperate race wants to utilize both your people and your resources.”
DJ felt as if her mind were backpedaling. The ghost had answered so many questions yet raised so many more. Why weren’t these aliens in the process of harming the earth right now? If the shield was down, what was preventing their attack . . . and, come to think of it, what was their means of attack? She could just picture the
look on Iris’s face. The skeptic in Iris wouldn’t even be having a conversation with this spirit right now. There was no way her half sister believed in aliens. She marveled at the irony. Iris didn’t believe in aliens, but what if she was one herself? All of her previous existence could very well be a lie. All this time, she and her sister had been investigating the paranormal with blinders on. DJ still believed Iris only called in to Mitch to eliminate the alien angle. DJ believed she’d always felt the same about aliens, up until today. For some reason, what the ghost was telling her didn’t feel like a lie. She had spoken to ghosts in the past that had lied to claim their innocence in life. It was entirely possible for a ghost to attempt deceit. But DJ couldn’t fathom why she felt a certain way about this ghost anymore than she had felt Darian to be a kindred soul. Being a medium meant you had to be a good judge of character. Answers didn’t just spell themselves out. The gift connected her with the dead, but the dead could be just as ambiguous as the living.
Overwhelmed, DJ began to experience dizziness. It was the same kind of motion sickness she experienced traveling in the backseat of a car as a child or from drinking one too many of Kassidy’s mixed drinks. She spilled to her knees. And then images blinded her. As if she were standing inches before a projector, a series of visions bombarded her senses. Experiences with the dead were always draining, but this one extraordinarily taxing.
Neat rows of men, walking in uniform lines, march down a deserted street much like ones she had seen depicted in movies, only they aren’t really men. They are just opaque forms. They consist of all the colors of the rainbow and are transparent except for their booted feet, gloved hands, and helmeted heads. The street is very normal except for the beings walking on it.