The Reason

by Marley Gibson

  "I'll confirm with her," I say, happy to help out.

  Excellent. A local ghost hunt that will keep the boyfriends happy because they can spend more time with us and the parents pleased because we won't be traveling too far away. And my own mind can—hopefully—relax more, knowing I'll be close to home in case this doomed destiny hits.

  "How does that feel?"

  Mayor Donn Shy reaches around and rubs her left shoulder, which I've been working on for the last twenty minutes with the tuning-fork attunement-activation healing. "It tingles."

  I smile. "That's all part of the energy working around you." I ting the tuning forks together and roll them in the air around each other, stirring up the energy field surrounding the mayor. I continue to ting and twirl the forks as I move around her, hoping to heal the pain in her shoulders and back. "Just keep breathing."

  Loreen peeks through the velvet curtain and winks at me. "Everything okay back here?"

  Mayor Shy smiles a vibrant white grin. "You've got an amazing gal here, Loreen."

  "Thanks," I say, feeling the blush splash my face. "I have a good client here."

  I notice that Loreen is wearing a soft cream-colored blouse and freshly ironed khaki slacks instead of her usual jeans and silly-saying T-shirt. Her curls are brushed neatly into place around her face, and her lips shimmer slightly with a pale pink gloss.

  "Hot date?" I ask, only half kidding. I've never seen her dressed up like this before.

  Her own blush gives her away. "I was, um, going to leave early tonight if you don't mind locking up, Kendall."

  The mayor and I exchange knowing glances.

  "You seriously have a date!" I exclaim. An image appears to me of Loreen sitting at a nice restaurant at a candlelit table holding hands with...

  "Oh my God! You're going out with Father Massimo?" How cool is that! I totally saw that hookup coming.

  Loreen turns twelve shades of crimson—if that's even possible—and drops the curtain between us. I excuse myself as the mayor chuckles at our escapades.

  "Loreen! That is awesome!" I say as I come behind the curtain.

  She waves me off. "Now, don't make a big deal out of it, Kendall."

  My cheesy grin is too wide to hide. "Yeah, I will. I knew you two had something brewing. I could feel it a couple of months ago."

  "Well, we have been seeing each other for coffee here and there, nothing serious."

  "Not yet," I say with an assurance like no other reading I've done before. I've seen the two of them together in my mind's eye, but now I'm completely one hundred percent sure that they are each other's soul mates. "And to think... I brought you together."

  "Enough," Loreen says with a laugh. "It's only dinner at the Kirby Pines."

  "Hmm ... every kiss begins with k," I say, paraphrasing the advertisement for Kay Jewelers. The Kirby Pines is a fancy restaurant on the outskirts of Radisson where kids go on prom dates and such and where parents go to celebrate big occasions. Father Mass must really be trying to impress Loreen. I think it's adorable.

  "Kendall." She moans and rolls her eyes. "Lock up when you're done."

  "Yes, ma'am," I say in an exaggerated Southern drawl.

  When the store door closes behind my mentor, I return to my customer. "So sorry about that, Mayor Shy, but I couldn't not comment on all of that."

  "Sweetie, call me Donn," she says with a kind smile. "I think it's wonderful that Loreen's getting out. She's been a loner for as long as I've been in town. That hot priest is sure to show her a good time."

  Ewww ... while I'm happy to see Loreen and Father Mass hooking up, I don't want to think about them hooking up. Too. Much. Information.

  I pick up the Mercury tuning fork and clutch it to me. "They've both been really supportive of me since I moved here and awakened to my psychic abilities. I just want them both to be happy."

  Donn reaches out a thin, tanned hand and clasps it around my wrist. "You're a special girl, Kendall."

  I swallow the lump in my throat and get back to work on my client. "Thanks, Donn."

  For the next fifteen minutes, I use the Mercury tuning fork to ground Donn's energy surrounding her. There's a whole set of larger tuning forks that Loreen bought for me that are aligned to each of the planets. The Earth gets so much of its energies from sister planets, the sun, and the moon.

  "What's the large tuning fork for?" Donn asks as I wave it in front of her face.

  "Mercury is in retrograde right now," I explain. "That means that communication can be disrupted. You're not supposed to make any big decisions or sign anything important. A lot of times computers get all kerflukey, and e-mail tends not to work while Mercury's in retrograde."

  "You know your stuff, Kendall."

  "I try. I feel like I read as many books on being psychic and on energy healing as I do schoolbooks."

  "It shows."

  I strike the large fork on the meaty part of my palm and then touch the end of it to Donn's left shoulder until I no longer feel the vibration from it. The longer it vibrates, the more that spot on the body needs energy. Donn's shoulder certainly needed the help.

  "Ooo ... that feels wonderful," she says in a long sigh.

  As I finish up the healing session, I figure now's as good a time as any to mention that the team is willing to investigate the mayor's mansion.

  "Mayor, er, I mean, Donn, so I talked to my team about investigating your house?"

  She opens her eyes. "Are they interested?"

  I lick my lips and forge ahead. "And how. You said the other day that your house was haunted. Is that just a thing you say to visitors in town because of the Civil War history? Or have you ever had anything weird happen while you've been living there?"

  Donn adjusts her small wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose. I can see the wheels of thought turning in her head as she carefully considers the question. After a moment, she flattens her thin lips together. "I believe my Mayer is still around me. He died so quickly when the heart attack took him. I don't know if he had time to know what was happening to him."

  "They—the they that are experts in everything—say we never fully comprehend what's occurring when we pass on. Not that I'd know or anything, but that's just what I've come across in my studies."

  "I'm sure my Mayer found his way to heaven. It's just that I like to think that he checks in with me every now and then to make sure I'm doing okay and not futzing around with any of the city ordinances he put into place." She laughs deep down in her chest and I join in. I don't sense her husband anywhere near at the present time. Though who am I to say he's not around her at other times?

  Bravely, I ask, "Well, when we come in to investigate, I can get a sense psychically of what's going on, if anything. You know, we could take some pictures, do some recordings to see if we capture anything on the digital voice recorders ... maybe Mayer has a message for you?"

  "Right! Like on those ghost-hunting shows on television? I love watching those."

  Nodding, I say, "That's what my group does. We've investigated a ton of places and gotten a lot of evidence." I want to ask her about the woman behind the curtain. However, it seems that even the mayor doesn't know about the extra guest in her house. "You never know if there are other spirits present, considering how old and historic your house is."

  Donn rotates her left shoulder and lets out a contented sigh. My nose itches a bit with my heightened psychic abilities, and I know that she's feeling much better. The attunement-activation healing session has worked on her.

  "Next weekend would be perfect then, if it works with you gals," Donn says. "The new housekeeper is starting on Monday, so the manor's in a little disarray. The last woman left me so suddenly and created a mess in her wake."

  I furrow my brow. "Why did she leave?"

  The mayor shrugs as she reaches for her purse. "Who knows? Tallulah was always a strange one, tripping all the time and breaking things. It's a good thing she quit before I fired her. I couldn't afford to lose any
more china."

  I breathe deeply and center my thoughts on what Mayor Shy is relaying to me. I see Tallulah, an older woman with curly red hair pinned back behind her ears. She's dusting the china cabinet at the mayor's mansion when suddenly dishes begin flying off the shelf onto the floor. Tallulah screams and backs away from the shattering glass. Someone else is making this happen. The housekeeper grabs rosaries out of her hip pocket and closes her eyes in prayer. The woman doesn't believe in ghosts or spirits and soon goes about her work again, only to be tripped on her way to the kitchen. The entity that resides in the mayor's mansion does not like Tallulah. I know that for a fact and can sense it clear as a bell. But I don't feel like this is something I can share with the mayor until I get a handle on exactly who this spirit is.

  One thing's obivious: she's not a happy ghost.

  But then again, a lot of the ones I encounter aren't. Mostly they're scared, confused, misinformed, or just unaware of their own circumstances. Celia said she's researching the manor and its history, and we'll get on it to see what we're up against.

  "I'll gather the team and we'll be there next Saturday night."

  Donn pats me on the shoulder. "Sounds perfect. Maybe I'll hang around with you for the fun."

  Fun? I don't think so. We'll see...

  Donn reaches into her purse and extracts thirty dollars for me.

  "The session's only twenty," I say.

  "A tip," she says with a friendly smile.

  "Thanks, Mayor Shy. I mean, Donn."

  "You're a miracle worker, Kendall. I haven't felt this good in weeks. Whatever it was you did worked like a charm. I look forward to welcoming you and your friends."

  I take the cash and grin my thanks.

  The over-the-door bell rings out as the mayor exits the store. I follow behind her and click shut the dead bolt. I place the cash in the register and then lock it as well.

  I check my BlackBerry to find several text messages from Jason.

  > Thinking of u!

  > Everything ok?

  > Don't do anything ghostly w/out me.

  > Why haven't u answered me??? R u ok?

  > Call me!

  Awww ... he's so adorable, worrying about me like this. No one could ask for a better boyfriend.

  As I'm speed-dialing Jason, I'm suddenly struck with the most horrendous nausea and stomach cramps. I drop my BlackBerry on the hardwood floor as I double over in excruciating pain. My cell phone hits hard and breaks apart into three pieces; the battery and SIM card skitter out and scatter. I can't worry about the electronics at this moment or what might have happened to the call to Jason. All I know is I feel like someone has stabbed me in the gut with a large chef's knife. Like the one Mom keeps next to the stove for chopping and cutting. A searing throb of ache cripples me, warning me of things to come. This isn't someone else's injury I'm feeling. It's not empathy or reliving a past event. This is clearly a premonition. A physical demonstration to illustrate the stunning image of my own end.

  "No..." I call out to no one as the tears trickle out of the corners of my eyes. "I won't let this happen. I won't think about it." I have no idea who I'm talking to, whether it's Emily who might be listening or God himself.

  I breathe through the anguish, not giving in to the prospect that lies ahead of me. By recognizing the possibility, I only encourage these visions to manifest in reality.

  I gather the pieces of my phone and push out of Divining Woman, barely remembering to lock the back door behind me. Once I'm outside in the waning daylight hours, my breathing begins to settle. With shaky hands, I put the cellular device back together. Immediately, Jason's number appears on the LED.

  "Hey," I say, trying to steady my inhalation. "What's up?" Taking the casual approach so as not to give in to what just happened.

  "Are you all right, Kendall?" Jason asks furiously. "I've been worried sick about you!"

  "I've been at work."

  "You could have texted me!"

  "I was with a customer."

  "Kendall, you can't just drop a shit bomb like you did and not expect me to worry about you constantly. I'm not wound that way."

  "I'm fine, Jase. Really I am."

  I hate lying to him, but there's no reason to upset him further until I find out what's going on. For some reason, my senses are saying that everything centers around whatever it is that was glaring at me in Mayor Shy's house. Until I can get to the bottom of that, I'll have to keep up with my daily routine and keep keeping on.

  I will not manifest this impending tragedy.

  "Where are you?" he asks. "I'm coming to get you."

  "No worries. I've got my car." However, my hand trembles as I reach to place the key in the car door. "I'll be home in five minutes."

  "I'll be there when you get there." Then he clicks off the phone without saying goodbye.

  I'm not offended. I know he's just concerned.

  Sitting behind the wheel of the Fit, I take a deep gulp of air and then slowly release it. A crank and a shift into reverse and then into first, and I'm on my way down Main Street to my house. After Jason leaves tonight, I'm going to have a long convo with Emily to get to the bottom of all this.

  Chapter Four

  I HATE IT WHEN A GHOST COPS AN ATTITUDE with you.

  "Emily, why won't you just answer my questions?"

  "Because you ask questions that I can't answer."

  "Can't ... or won't?" I toss my pillow at Emily, who's sitting in my rocker with Sonoma the bear. I can see him through her body as she makes the chair move back and forth somehow. Of course the pillow doesn't faze her. She's dead.

  "We've had this conversation before, Kendall."

  "And we'll keep having it until you give me some answers. Come on, Emily. You're my spirit guide. Do some frickin' guiding here, would you?"

  "I don't know what more I can do. I'm here for you as much as I can be."

  I grind my top teeth against the bottom ones. Frustration boils under my skin. Father Mass's Sunday sermon this morning was on the topic of patience, but I have none at the moment. "Let's take this from the top again," I say with a bit of sarcasm icing my speech. "I have a dream where you're in a burning vehicle, pregnant, with a dead boyfriend behind the wheel. Then the image shifts into me in a heap on the floor, bleeding to death internally. What 'more' you can do for me is interpret this dream in more detail than saying that I saw your past and my future."

  "I can't do that..."

  I throw my hands up in the air. "Again with the can't. Is there some code of the undead that you're in jeopardy of breaking?

  "Now Kendall..."

  "Don't!" I hold my hand up in front of me toward the spirit of the woman who died too young. She could be my college-age sister from how she looks, except for the morbid hospital gown she's apparently doomed to wear for all of eternity. I never realized I could be so perturbed at someone who doesn't really exist. "Don't 'Kendall' me like you're Sarah Moorehead. Only she can talk to me like that. I want some answers and I want them now."

  Emily's head slumps, her long brown hair falling into her pale face. She plays with one of the ties on her hospital gown, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger.

  "There are certain things we know on this side that simply can't be shared with the living. Things you have to learn on your own. Or at the right time."

  I blow out an annoyed gust of air. "Are you telling me that I have to die to know the truth about you? About my own future?"

  She shakes her head.

  I stand and begin pacing between my bed and dresser. Aggravation burns in my chest like nasty heartburn from too many jalapeños on my movie nachos. "You're pissing me off, Emily. Who was the guy that died in the car with you and why isn't he here haunting me as well?"

  "Kendall ... I..."

  "I know. You can't tell me." I head for the bedroom door. My stomach growls at the smell of Mom's homemade spaghetti that's wafting up from the kitchen. The piquant smell of onions, pepperonis, and fresh t
omatoes does little to soothe my annoyance. I spin back around only to find Emily right behind me, her hand on my shoulder. I feel nothing, though. Her touch is as much a phantom as the mystery that surrounds her.

  "You tell me you're here to help me. You tell me you're here to guide me. You tell me you've been with me my whole life. You tell me that you care about me. You tell me all of this crap and bullshit, Emily. It means nothing if you won't help me through this." I poke my index finger into my chest for emphasis. "I'm scared, Emily. Scared out of my wits. Don't you understand that?"

  Her beautiful face falls into a heartbreaking frown. I think if she were able to cry, she would.

  "All I can tell you, Kendall, is that I love you, but there are limits to what I can do for you."

  I can't hide my disdain and she sees it. I open my door and slam it shut between us.

  If Emily won't tell me the truth about her former life and how it affects me, I know who can get to the bottom of it.

  With her smarts and determination, Celia Nichols could find a lost contact lens in an Olympic-size pool.

  The hell with conversing with a ghost. A living soul will solve this.

  On Tuesday, The lunchroom at RHS is rollicking with the sounds of Becca's fresh Trance groove, the hubbub of the cheerleaders selling tickets to the end-of-winter dance, and a short-lived rumble over God knows what between Dragon—Becca's boyfriend—and Marcus Stafford.

  I set my tray down next to Taylor, who eyeballs my macaroni and cheese.

  "I knew I should have gotten that instead of the meat loaf," she says with a pout.

  "Have some of mine."

  She beams at me and picks up her fork to dig in.

  Across the table, Celia looks like she hasn't slept since we talked on Sunday night. When I asked her for help on researching Emily, I had no idea she'd turn it into her own personal season of CSI. Her hair is a mess, she has slight dark circles under her eyes, and she's on her second iced coffee of the day.