She Shall Have Music (Psychic Seasons

by ReGina Welling

“I’ll keep you posted.” And Zack hung up abruptly.

  Chapter Five

  “Put some elbow grease into it.” When Julius spoke into her ear the next day, Amethyst jumped violently, slammed her hip against the small table she was sanding to send it crashing over onto its side. She muttered and oath and rounded on the ghost to glare at him over crossed arms. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners? I thought you were gone already.”

  The diminutive Amethyst faced the ghost defiantly. In life, Julius had been a tall man and in spirit that had not changed. Looking at his rosy but light complexion sprinkled with the freckles that often came along with red hair, this is a ghost would not be the first thought to spring to mind. He appeared as solid as any living person did. He even had an aura.

  “Sorry. Not quite. I needed to speak to you privately first.” His apology was insincere.

  “What can I do for you, Julius? Have you come to tell me you can’t tell me anything as usual?” Her smile took the sting out of the words since she had seen how frustrated the inability to divulge information made him.

  “No, I have a second clue for you. Where do you usually find things?” He waved a hand to dismiss the subject before continuing, “Amethyst, I need your counsel.”

  That got her attention as she filed the clue away.

  He hesitated and she waited patiently. Mostly.

  “What is an aura?” His question was the last thing she was expecting.

  Putting the explanation into a context that he might understand, she said, “I think you would most liken it to an energy field similar to the one created by an electromagnet only visible. To me, at least. It is a halo of color surrounding each person that can sometimes show me things about their emotional and physical health.”

  Julius nodded contemplatively then asked another surprising question, “When Estelle speaks through Kat does Kat have two auras or do they blend into one?”

  Amethyst took a moment to think of the best way to describe the phenomenon.

  “They overlap but only blend in the places where they are similar. Estelle’s is the larger so I guess you could say it becomes superimposed over Kat’s but I can still see the distinct outline of one within the other.”

  “Sort of like a double exposure,” he mused.

  “Yes. Why?”

  Ignoring her question, he asked another. “Have you ever seen anyone who wasn’t like Kat but had two auras?”

  “Not really. Sometimes when a couple is close to each other, their auras meld together. That looks different, though. Each aura stays with its own body but together, they mesh wherever the two people are closest so it looks like one aura made up of two halves.”

  He nodded again.

  “I’ve also seen couples, even happy couples, who have auras that won’t blend at all. Oil and water. She asked again, “Why? I know there’s a point to all this.”

  Again, he ignored the question and finally, in a quiet voice said, “They want to increase your gift.”

  Confused, Amethyst replied, “I don’t understand.”

  “Nor do I, fully. They don’t tell me everything.”

  “They?”

  “Angels.”

  That netted him a raised eyebrow and he muttered something about angels calling all the shots. “I’m supposed to ask your permission for them to increase your gift.” Yet he appeared reluctant to do so.

  Frowning at the number of questions his words prompted, and knowing from experience how little Julius was ever allowed to say, Amethyst focused on the most important one and asked, “Increase it how?”

  He shrugged. “Guess that’s a need to know thing and they don’t think I need to know.”

  Eyes flashing, she responded, “Well, I need to know. The last thing I need is some cosmic whammy. One of those in a lifetime is enough.” Unaware she was doing so, Amethyst began to pluck at her own aura in an attempt to clear away the swirling fear his words had plunged her into. “I’ve got enough complications in my life right now without having angels adding more.”

  What happened next left her wide-eyed and utterly speechless. As though emerging from inside him, a new aura emanated from Julius. While Amethyst watched, it expanded and widened; a swirling rainbow of colors that slowly consumed his aura completely, then brightened until it filled her vision with blinding white.

  “Ask your questions.” The trumpet-like voice that commanded Amethyst seemed not to come just from Julius but from the air around him and she would have obeyed if her mouth had not gone instantly dry and glued itself shut. As it was, all she could do was stare.

  More gently this time the voice repeated, “Ask your questions. I’ll answer what I can.”

  Now overwhelmed with the temptation to pinch herself, Amethyst resisted and did as she was told. “What do I call you?”

  “I am Galmadriel.” At those words, the white aura expanded once again, just enough to lightly brush against Amethyst’s own. Warmth and a sense of peaceful calm washed away the fear leaving her feeling as though embraced and protected.

  “You are an angel.” It was a statement, not a question. “What are you doing here?”

  “My job.”

  “And that is…?”

  “I was sent to intervene; to help those struggling against the dark.” A bit more information but still less than helpful.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Your help.” Chagrin, faint but detectable in the angel’s tone, was a surprise to Amethyst. “We would like to strengthen your gift so that you can identify and aid those battling darkness.”

  “How would that play out? I need specifics so I can make a proper decision.”

  “Your vision would expand to include more levels of the darker tones and an increased your ability to heal.” Some almost undefinable nuance told Amethyst there was more; something the angel would prefer not to reveal.

  “And…?”

  “And we can’t always predict the intensity of the changes.”

  “Does that mean you aren’t sure what will happen?”

  A moment’s pause and then the angel sighed. “It is not common for us to interfere. I cannot tell you exactly how intense the experience will be; nor can I tell you the degree to which it will occur.”

  “Yet, you want me to just say yes,” Amethyst observed with a trace of bitterness brought on by a very real fear of this new experience.

  Another pause. There was more.

  “And your gift would become inherent.”

  “Which means what, exactly?”

  “Reading auras is a physical ability. If you accept the fullness of the gift, it will deepen beyond being something you can do to being something that you are. Something you will hand down through the generations.”

  Amethyst quirked an eyebrow as the angel continued. “You will be a Reader. Your children will also be Readers.”

  “It’s a lot to ask.” More than she could take in all at once.

  “Yes.” Galmadriel answered simply. “I’ll leave you to decide.”

  “How will I contact you when I’ve made my choice? Through Julius?”

  “Though we may meet again, there will be no need to contact me. Should your decision be to accept the deepening, it will simply happen.”

  Uneasy about the lack of detail, Amethyst asked, “Is there anything more you can tell me about what to expect?”

  “No.”

  “I suppose there’s no grace period? Like a 30 day trial offer?”

  “No, I am sorry. The choice is irrevocable.” Amethyst heard a trace of humor, “so choose wisely,” and with a parting command for Julius alone Galmadriel was gone.

  Shaken, Amethyst took several steps back and sank onto one of her brightly colored kitchen chairs. The entire exchange had taken only a matter of minutes but that had been quite enough for her to handle. It wasn’t every day she got the chance to talk to an angel. Wrapping her head around that experience alone was overwhelming and now she had a big decision to ma
ke. And not quite enough information to feel comfortable making it.

  She locked eyes with Julius who appeared visibly shaken by his experience. When he had recovered enough, he finally spoke in a dry voice, “I believe I owe young Kathleen an apology. That was a most unsettling experience.”

  “You think?” Was the wry answer.

  _,.-'~'-.,_

  As the bright light surrounding him faded, Julius felt unsettled. He now had a much better idea of how Kat must have felt the day he and Estelle had first used her to make contact with Julie. He owed the brave young woman an apology and flowers or chocolate. Not that ghosts had access to the latter two.

  By now, Julius knew, his energy should be flagging but the encounter with the angel, instead, left him feeling revved up, vital, almost alive again. He paced the small room, each footstep a staccato sound where normally, his presence was marked by silence.

  Distracted by her own thoughts, he had made several rounds of the room before Amethyst noticed the sound. Looking up, she realized he was also muttering to himself and waving his hands around in agitation.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked.

  “She’s sending me off on an ‘assignment’ right when I’m needed here. Who asked her to get involved?” He paced even more furiously. “Well, okay, that would be me. But I had no idea she would send me away. Well, I’m not going. That’s all there is to it. I’m needed…” He broke off as the light in the room darkened ominously.

  Energy tickled up Amethyst’s arms then began to build in intensity. She could feel it in the back of her throat, first a tingle then increasing pressure. She reached out to Julius, eyes widening as the sensation escalated toward pain. Julius shook his fist at nothing Amethyst could see.” Fine. I’ll go. Lay off.”

  Immediately, the oppressive energy decreased. Relieved, Amethyst’s hand rose, unconsciously, to skim her throat. She shuddered, her voice raspy and raw, “Next time you pick a fight with an angel, please do it somewhere else.”

  “I’m sorry.” Other than an apology, he had nothing to offer. “Please tell Julie I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll have a word with Estelle before I go.” His voice was gruff. “I really am sorry.” Then he was gone.

  _,.-'~'-.,_

  For a long time, Amethyst remained immobile. Overwhelmed, she couldn’t quiet her mind; her thoughts flitted back and forth between Reid’s sudden appearance and the possible implications of whatever it was the angel had in mind for her.

  Home. She needed it. Home and family. Not the extended family she had here with her friends. Instead, right now, she wanted her mommy.

  Tomorrow was Thanksgiving.

  The decision made, she quickly packed a bag, dropped Tommy off with Mishka, and made a quick phone call to Gustavia to beg off from their Thanksgiving plans. She relayed the message from Julius and without mentioning anything else, explained that she would be away for the holiday.

  Feeling better than she had all week, Amethyst began the drive home.

  Chapter 5

  Traveling these familiar roads felt like a trip back through time. The Grange Hall, faded with time into a stately relic with cracked and weathered trim and paint peeling from a decade of abandonment still stood on the corner. Amethyst marked the building with a glance. It was the first of a series of touchstones that signaled she was nearing home.

  A cloud of maple leaves whirled into a funnel behind her as she passed between the massive trunks lining the main street. In this town, not quite two hours north of Oakville, autumn had already passed its peak and begun to carpet the ground with golden, red, and brown crispness.

  Someone had tied ribbons in the high school’s blue and gold colors around every light pole and sign leading into town. Leftovers from homecoming weekend.

  Turning left on Pond Road, Amethyst checked to see if anyone had painted over the misspelling on the side of the building where the seafood store used to be. No, it still read “FIHS.” She rolled her eyes as she always did even while unconsciously taking comfort from the unchanging nature of her hometown.

  Two miles to go. The old sawmill remained unchanged but it looked like Mr. Farley had gotten himself a new boat. Old Pete Rawler’s place still needed a roof. The shingles were curled up on the edges like the pages of a book left out in the rain.

  And there it was. Home. The sprawling New England style farmhouse sparkled under a fresh coat of white paint courtesy of her two younger brothers who were still in high school. Masterminding a foul plot involving half the boys in the senior class who pranked the principal by installing his desk up on the roof of the school might have sounded like fun at the time, but it had cost them an entire summer of hard labor, scraping and painting the old house. Neither seemed the least bit repentant. The whole debacle was destined to become a town legend since they had pulled it off during school hours.

  A black and white cat streaked across the yard chasing a blowing leaf.

  Amethyst could have entered through the front door but that was for company and salesmen to knock on. The family usually went in through the barn. The heavy door still stuck a bit when she pushed it open, it always did this time of year. These old farmhouses had often grown in proportion to the size of the family that lived in them. This one had a longish breezeway between the barn and the main house that smelled of hay and dust and horse.

  A soft whinny called to her from the stalls where she greeted each of the occupants by name before turning toward the home and the family behind the kitchen door.

  She could hear them through the door; feel their warmth reaching out from the room before she could see them. Voices raised in conversation, everyone talking and laughing at once but still managing to be heard. That’s what her big, loving family was like. Only the youngest two boys still lived at home but this was the night before the big feast when anyone who staying over for the holiday would have already arrived.

  Pushing open the door, Amethyst walked into the room and into her mother’s arms. For that one moment, in that one embrace, every worry fell away leaving her feeling clean and safe and quiet.

  For that one moment. Then chaos erupted as family welcomed her home. All at once.

  Sally held her daughter at arm’s length and scanned her face before pulling her back in for another hug. Her mother’s eyes picked up on the subtle signs of tension—the tightness around her mouth and something lurking in her eyes. Her mother bear instincts kicked in. Whoever had hurt her baby had better be ready for some angry mama action.

  Fall coolness outside met the moist heat of cooking inside and steamed up the windows. It smelled like heaven in the big kitchen where pots and pans full of recently harvested vegetables simmered and boiled. Farm style comfort food.

  “Auntie Janey…Auntie Janey, look at my losted tooth. It got all wobbly, then it got wiggly and then it fell right out.” Niece Lexie pulled at Amethyst’s pants leg until her aunt bent down to inspect the tiny bit of whiteness and bestow a hug.

  In a suitably grave voice, she asked the curly headed sprite who gazed up at her with concerned brown eyes, “Are you on good terms with the tooth fairy?”

  “Is she really going to sneak into my room and touch my pillow?” Lexie whispered. She seemed worried and Amethyst had to hide a smile.

  “It will all be okay. She’s a very nice fairy—very gentle with pillows.”

  Her words comforted the child who pocketed the little tooth and scampered away.

  Beneath the loud voices, there was order and organization to the meal preparation. Without appearing autocratic, Sally gently directed each activity from getting the table set to plating side dishes while she pulled a massive ham from the oven.

  Before Amethyst could step forward to help, her oldest sister thrust a blanket-wrapped bundle into her arms. Her newest nephew, Emmet, blinked up from the soft folds. He was another reason for the impromptu trip. The baby was only three weeks old and she had been wanting to meet him. Oh, he smelled good; she thought as she inhaled the scent of baby
and gently caressed his cheek with a fingertip. So small, so fragile, so new. She wanted one.

  As she held him there, her eyes locked to his, he gave a tiny grunt and another smell overlaid the scent she’d been enjoying.

  With a big grin, she raised an eyebrow at her sister, “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” Her question was met with an answering grin, “Mother’s instinct. She who holds him, changes him. Diaper bag is over there,” Allison lifted her chin to point toward a bag hanging over one of the chairs.

  Cooing to the baby, Amethyst carried him to the nearest bedroom, where she gently, if inexpertly, removed all evidence of the dirty deed. When he was clean and fragrant once again, she sat there another minute, rocking him in her arms and singing a made up song of nonsense words as he nuzzled contentedly against her neck.

  Envy rose up like a fog and engulfed her. Amethyst dreamed of having children of her own. Maybe not so many as the six her parents had raised, but she and Reid had decided on at least three. That dream had been pushed away with the death of her marriage. Maybe not permanently but at least for the time being.

  For just the barest of moments, she allowed herself to think of what might happen if she and Reid were to work things out. A child with his eyes, her smile, and his soft, dark hair. Their babies would be beautiful.

  Better to push those thoughts aside than to follow that path of heartache. No matter what the crazy man said, after not seeing each other for three years, had he expected her just to pick up where they left off? Because where they left off hadn’t been anyplace good.

  Still married. They were still married. Those words had been echoing in her head since falling from his lips. Every time her thoughts quieted, they boomed like a metronome.

  Still married.

  Still married.

  It was maddening, really.

  “Hey, you’re holding up dinner,” A voice broke into her thoughts. Her younger brother, Joe, complained, “I’m starving, come on.”

  “Sorry, sorry. On my way. And you’re always starving. I think you’ll last another minute.” She sneaked in one more quiet snuggle before returning to the noise and light of the kitchen.