The Awakening

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The Awakening Page 9

by Marley Gibson


  I try to sit up and find myself nestled between this Jason's muscular blue-jeaned thighs. His warmth radiates against my back, and I feel quite natural up against him like this. Rather a precarious position, I must say. I'm sure Taylor doesn't appreciate me being snuggled up to her honey like this.

  She flattens her lips and death-glares at Jason over my shoulder. "I'm sick of you constantly telling me what to do! You're my brother, not my father, Jason. When are you going to get that straight?"

  Brother? Ohhhhhhhh ... iiiiiiiiiiiinteresting.

  Celia steps forward and extends her hand to me. "Here, Kendall. Get up."

  I clasp on and let her pull me to my feet. Oh my God! While she's tugging, Jason gives me a shove on the ass for good measure. My entire being tingles, from the roots of my hairs to my in-need-of-a-pedicure toes. And it has nothing to do with my psychic abilities. It's like I've been Tasered by his gorgeous looks and the crooked smile that he gave me when I was supine in his lap. I scramble away from him and mutter my thanks under my breath.

  "What happened?" Celia asks in a whisper.

  I don't want to tell her about my dreams of Dasa—urr, Jason yet. She's been a good egg accepting my psychic awakening and the quest to ghost hunt, but I don't want to freak her out too much. "I think it's all part of coming to grips with my abilities."

  She places a hand on my back and says, "Next time you want to play fainting goat, give me a heads-up."

  I chuckle. "I'll do my best."

  Jason stands as well and brushes off his large hands on his jeans. "I know you just got sick or whatever, but are you seriously talking about ghost hunting and dragging my sister into it?"

  Pushing him away, Taylor says, "No one's dragging me into anything. I want to do this, Jason. And like I said before, you're my brother, not my guardian."

  A long sigh escapes my chest as my initial crush-rush wears off and I take another good, long look at Jason Tillson. He's a little bit taller than Taylor—his sister—and has impressively broad shoulders. Just like the ones in my dream. His eyes are the most amazing crisp blue I've ever seen. Taylor's aren't much different, only hidden behind a thick layer of eye shadow, eyeliner, and mascara. Upon closer inspection, I swear they look just alike.

  "You're twins," I say more than ask.

  Jason quirks his mouth at me. "What, are you psychic too?"

  Taylor smacks him. "You're such a jerk. Yes, Kendall, we are twins. But because Mr. Wonderful here is three minutes—"

  "Three and a half," he says emphatically.

  "Whatever. Since he came out first, he thinks he can tell me what to do."

  "I didn't mean to cause a family squabble," I say.

  "This is my life," Taylor says. "As I was saying before the Incredible Hulk moved in and nearly sent you up to Jesus, I have two digital cameras and a video recorder that registers night vision. That should come in handy, shouldn't it?"

  "Absolutely. Celia says our best hunting will be at night, so any equipment that lends itself to that is perfect. Right?"

  I nudge Celia with my elbow, but she doesn't look up. "Sure." She seems to be fascinated by a bend of elbow macaroni on the floor at her feet. What's wrong with her? She's totally clammed up all of a sudden. Is she afraid of Jason Tillson? Honestly, he's just an overprotective brother. I think it's kind of cute, in a sweet, distorted way. Celia sits back at the table and begins shuffling the papers we'd been showing Taylor. I guess she's focusing on the task at hand, which is getting our team set.

  Turning my attention back to Taylor, I say, "I'm so glad you're in. With you aboard, Celia can concentrate on the computer equipment and I can really start honing my intuitive skills so we can connect with the spirits around here."

  A harrumph escapes Jason's chest. "Intuitive skills? What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means that I actually am psychic." I poke my index finger against his steel-belted shoulder. "So watch your thoughts around me."

  Okay, so it's a pretty hollow threat, but what Jason Tillson doesn't know won't kill him.

  "Fine," he says and then turns to his sister. "Do whatever you want, Taylor. But don't come crying to me when the shit hits the fan or you screw up in some way."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence, JT."

  As Taylor and Celia begin making notes and comparing calendars, I watch Jason stride off through the cafeteria. People around us seem to lose interest and go back to their American chop suey and ponderings of the fainting new girl. With one more sidelong glance, Jason's electric blue eyes connect with mine, and he half smiles like he knows a secret. It's the same exact look I've seen in my dreams. The one he gives me right before I fall into his arms.

  Damn it! Didn't that just happen?

  I know one thing: if I'm going to keep my sanity, I need to steer clear of Jason Tillson.

  When I walk into Divining Woman after school, Loreen hands me a Vitamin Water and invites me to sit on the couch with her. "I bet you could use something cold to drink after the day you've had."

  "How do you..." Right, she's psychic. "You sense that from my energies?"

  She runs her fingers through her curly hair and nods. "Your energy is almost of a static-electricity nature. I get the sense something happened at school?"

  I tell her about the run-in with Jason.

  "So, this is the boy you've been dreaming of?"

  I bob my head while I gulp the orangey drink. "Exactly. Down to the details of the mole on his left cheek."

  Loreen shuts her eyes and breathes in deeply. I almost have to snort at today's T-shirt, which reads "I know what you did, and there will be consequences." She shifts her eyes to mine. "I sense a cosmic connection between you and Jason, but it's not very clear right now what your future holds. As you develop your gift more, you'll be able to decipher the meanings of things like dreams, images, and visions. Right now, you just have to take it one day at a time and not get too discouraged or frustrated with yourself."

  I laugh. "The fact that I'm even in your store again shows that I'm trying to come to terms with what might be going on with me."

  She reaches over and takes my hand. "It really is a gift from God, Kendall. There's so much good you can do with it. Take it from me, I know."

  "Thanks, Loreen. I'm trying to look at it that way." Although, maybe I should start playing the lottery or betting the ponies or gambling on baseball games. I could make a fortune! I sit back and smile, thinking that could be the life.

  "That would be an abuse of your abilities, Kendall, and you know it."

  "Get out of my head, Loreen," I say with a bit of frustration.

  "Sorry, I can't help myself." Loreen smiles at me. I'm so glad to have her here to guide me through this awakening and to help me not make an ass out of myself. Stupid queen of hearts was right. I did need another woman to show me the way. "You should use your psychic intuition to do something good," she says. "I use my Reiki healing all the time at the nursing home where I volunteer. So many of those elderly people have family that's moved away or no one to take care of them and most of the time, they just want companionship."

  "That's awesome, and I'm sure they really appreciate it." I had no clue she spent time doing that and helping people. Here I thought she was just this kind of squirrelly lady with the New Age shop. There's a lot more to her, obviously. That was really ignorant of me to make such a snap judgment about her when I came in here before. "What's Reiki?"

  "It's a Japanese technique for stress reduction that also encourages healing."

  "Oh, okay." Sounds cool. Wonder if I can do that too? "So, the way I'm going to do something good is Celia and I've decided to hunt ghosts. Hopefully, I can help spirits out who are stuck here for one reason or another," I announce.

  Loreen couldn't be happier. "You certainly picked the right town for it. The right county, even. The right part of the country. With all the Civil War history here, you'll have plenty to keep you busy."

  I nibble at my bottom lip. "And you'll help m
e learn everything I need to know, won't you? 'Cause I can't do this alone, Loreen. I'm winging it as it is. I mean, I don't know why I'm hearing certain things or seeing visions or knowing who people are without being introduced or—"

  She reaches over and pats my hand. "It's okay, Kendall. I'm here for you."

  I let out the breath I've been holding and feel a bit of relief. Loreen understands everything and she's going to guide me through this awakening.

  "Why don't you get a notebook and I'll answer some of your questions."

  "Perfect," I say, diving for my book bag. Armed with pen and paper, I sit cross-legged on her couch, nearly salivating for information. "So, what am I exactly? I mean, I hear all these terms like psychic, clairvoyant, sensitive, fortuneteller ...What's the right thing to call myself?"

  Loreen nods and thinks for a moment. "It all depends on what abilities you hone. Myself, I'm an empathic psychic healer. I'm sensitive, can feel the pain of others, can see into other people's minds almost, and I use Reiki to heal. Those are the things I've worked on in my years. But, Kendall, you have to discover your powers and grow and develop your skills. Really, it's pretty much like multitasking."

  "Well, I can do that."

  "Tell me what you're experiencing, exactly."

  I run through the list of Things That Have Happened to Kendall Since Awakening, and then sit quietly while Loreen lets the information churn.

  "You display several psychic traits," Loreen says. I settle into the couch, pen poised over my notepad. This is so much better and more interesting than Mr. Kline's calculus class. "First there is claircognizant," she says. "It's where you become perceptive to things. You don't know who's telling you the information or where it's coming from, you just know certain things."

  "Like how I knew all of that about Helen Pearlman and her husband's goiter."

  "Exactly. Then there's clairvoyant, where it's almost like 'clear seeing.' It encompasses future events, past events, even connects in a way so you can use your mind and view remote locations. Everything is visual and you're literally seeing what's going on."

  I lower my brows and ponder what she's said. "I don't think I've actually had that happen yet. Unless you count the Union soldiers I saw ... and that weird thing that happened when I saw my dad injured, like, in the future or something."

  Loreen shifts in her seat. "Maybe. That leads to clairaudience, where a spirit speaks to you or you hear something. Sometimes the voice is in your head or maybe it's a whisper in your ear. That's very common with me and my spirit guides."

  I think of the floaty lady in my room and how she spoke to me through the white-noise machine. I guess I've got clairaudient ability as well.

  Continuing, Loreen goes on to explain about clairsentience, the ability to feel the vibrations of other people through touch or feeling. There's also clairalience, where someone gets their psychic knowledge from certain smells. It all makes sense to me. I mean, how many times have I heard a certain song on the radio or sniffed a familiar odor and then I'm taken back to a particular moment in time. Popcorn cooking makes me remember all the movies Marjorie and I saw together growing up. The aroma of sausage dogs puts me right outside the walls of Wrigley Field. Mandarin oranges make me remember when Maree Harris barfed on me in second grade and a whole slice came out of her nose (needless to say, I don't eat mandarin oranges to this day); Chanel perfume makes me think of Father Ludwig's wife, who directed the Episcopal Christmas pageant last year at church; and, of course, honeysuckle in any form takes me right back into the loving arms of my Grandma Ethel.

  "It's starting to make more sense to me—no pun intended," I say.

  "You'll learn as you go, Kendall," Loreen says with encouragement.

  I let out a contented sigh, the first in a long time. "Celia asked me if I could channel. I Googled the term, and it was saying that channeling is letting a spirit into your body? I don't know about that, Loreen. Do you do that?"

  "I have," she admitted. "Trance mediumship is interpreting and relaying energies that are around you. You let them go through you, inside you, and let them talk using your body."

  "Is that safe?"

  She laughs. "What in life is foolproof? As I've told you before, you just have to protect yourself and pray before allowing the spirit to enter you. You set the ground rules, Kendall, not the spirits."

  I stop making notes as my hand shakes. The thought of something inside of me, making me do and say things, kind of skeeves me out. Maybe I won't be developing that skill too soon.

  Loreen's eyes shine in what almost seems a sense of pride. "So you see, Kendall, you just have to be patient with yourself and see what skills develop for you."

  Pen down, I say, "I definitely have a lot of that going so far. It's just, sometimes I hear something or I know it and I don't know whether to speak up or not. Like when Okra Carmickle came into class and I felt the pain in his broken leg like it was mine. Man! If I had said something, the school nurse would have taken me to a padded cell or something." My fingers slip into my hair and I rub at my skull. "It's like, these thoughts are driving me crazy sometimes. Just knowing stuff. I want someone to knock the information out of my head and let it be out there for others to interpret."

  I can feel Loreen's warm and comforting smile emanating toward me. I know from our talk that she's sending her own positive energy to me for courage. We spend the next half hour chatting about my and Celia's plans and how we've got Taylor on board to be our photographer for ghost hunting.

  Loreen snaps her fingers as if she's had a revelation. "Ooo, one of the things you'll want to use in your investigations is the dowsing pendulum I gave you."

  "Really?" I haven't had the opportunity to play around with it or study up on it with all that's been going on.

  "Absolutely. Do you have it with you?" Loreen asks.

  I pull the tiny black velvet bag that I put the pendulum in from the front pocket of my jeans. The small pink quartz pendant tumbles out into the palm of my hand. Ironically, the stone feels cold, even though it's been in my pocket, so I warm it in my fist.

  "That's good," Loreen instructs, "you really have to bond with your pendulum."

  "Bond?"

  "Yes. It will react to your energies differently than it will to anyone else's."

  "That's pretty cool," I say as I play with the chain. "So, I don't understand how this is going to help me ghost hunt. Don't you use this to find water?"

  Loreen pulls a book off one of the shelves and turns to a page that has the history of dowsing. I don't feel like reading all of it, so I hope she'll just summarize. I have enough schoolwork to read when I get home.

  "Okay, Miss Smarty-Pants," she says with a grin. "Historically, dowsing is known for locating water, gold, oil, and minerals, but you can use it in relation to issues of life and death."

  I feel my brow raise in question. "How's that?"

  "Oh, doctors in Europe have used pendulums to find cancer and detect allergies. In the Caribbean, women use them to determine the sex of an unborn baby. I even read a story once where Marines in Vietnam used pendulums to locate buried mines."

  "Whoa! That's amazing. So it's not some satanic conjuring tool?"

  Loreen laughs so hard she has to dab her eyes. "Dear Lord, no. There's nothing satanic about it at all. In fact, I pray before, during, and after I use my pendulum. It's a very spiritual experience. God is always with me, watching over me and protecting me with his angels."

  Yeah, tell my mom that. She would freak if she knew what I was doing. Best she not know then, eh?

  I wiggle around on the couch, ready to try this out. "How do I do it?"

  "Hold the pendulum by the bob at the end with your thumb and index finger, and let the chain dangle over the finger. Don't move it; it'll move itself."

  I follow her instruction and sit perfectly still with my elbow pressed against my side. The pink quartz hangs there, pointing down, but vibrating slightly.

  Loreen takes out her own crystal
dowsing pendulum and copies what I'm doing. "Now, Kendall, you have to figure out what constitutes a yes, no, and maybe for you. Ask, either in your head or out loud, 'When I ask a question, what is a yes answer?'"

  "Oh, okay." I concentrate on the lovely pink stone hanging at the end of the silver chain. "Hi there," I say, trying to respect my pendulum. "Could you please show me what a yes answer is when I ask a question?"

  Sure enough, the pendulum starts moving. For a moment, I think it's just my jittery nerves. However, I'm not moving a muscle. The pendulum swings clockwise, spinning around and around.

  "This is the coolest thing ever! How does it do it?"

  Loreen takes her eyes from her pendulum and looks at mine. "Well, you know how radios pick up information from invisible radio waves?" I nod, still trying not to move. "The pendulum acts like an antenna and reacts to the vibrations and energy waves emitted by people, places, thoughts, and things. It also connects the logical and intuitive parts of the brain."

  "That's freaky amazing! Look at it spin."

  "Ask it what a no answer is."

  I follow her instructions and watch the pendulum stop spinning and then swing from right to left. When I ask what my maybe answer is, the pendulum points straight to the ground and begins quivering.

  "Too bad I can't use this for my calculus exam," I say. Hmm, could it tell me what it means about a certain polynomial when the fifteen derivative is a nonzero constant? Probably not. Mr. Kline barely allows graphing calculators; I'm sure a pendulum would be out of the question.

  I keep concentrating as I'm dowsing and practicing, but after a while, the pendulum sort of loses its turgor pressure and stops spinning. "Did I break it?"

  "Not at all," Loreen explains, "you just have to get used to each other. Let me give you a jump start."

  "A what?" I'm not interested in jumper cables being attached anywhere to my extremities.

 

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