Enchanted Dreams (24 page)

"Do you really think so?" As much as Tom wanted to believe this, it was difficult, knowing Angela as he had.

"Yes, I do," said the doctor. "Most people, I think, would choose happiness over the alternative if they realized that they had that choice."

"I would never—I mean, I could never do anything to hurt her," Tom said.

"You have no reason to feel guilty," Dr. Czernick told him. "Believe me when I tell you, Tom, there are men who would do unspeakable things to their wives if they were in your position. Many would be tempted to get all kinds of revenge on them."

"I've been tempted…"

"But you'll do the right thing, Tom," Dr. Czernick said. "I have no doubt of that whatsoever."

Tom shook his head. He still couldn't get over the way everything had changed. "She does seem genuinely happy," he said.

"She
is
genuinely happy, Tom," the doctor assured him. "And that's all that matters, right?"

Sara laughed, but she felt a strange twinge of anxiety in spite of the absurdity of her sister's words. She had never believed in all those evil-spirit warnings, but the old religious teachings were still a part of her. She would not let her sister know this, however. "I can't believe you still buy into all that stuff, Liz," she said.

"I'm not sure that I do," her sister admitted. "But why take chances?"

"I might ask you the same thing," Sara reminded her. "I seem to recall fornication being on the list of forbidden acts that will send you to the fiery pits of hell, but that hasn't stopped you. Does Mother know he moved in, by the way?"

"Mom is on a strictly need-to-know basis where my sex life is concerned," Liz replied. "But at least in my case, the crime would be worth the time. Anyway, I think God'll be lenient on the fornication thing. He understands. But what you're talking about is different. It's like intentionally sinning for something to do."

"Your arguments are so self-serving," Sara said with a laugh. But she didn't want her big sister worrying about her. "Look, this whole thing is probably just a scam. I'm only going because I want to get to know a few of the girls from my office who will be there. This is the first thing I've been invited to and it would be rude not to go. And it might actually be fun."

"You promise not to talk to any dead people?"

"I promise," Sara assured her, laughing. "I'm just gonna sit back and enjoy the show."

Liz released a loud sigh of defeat. "Well, just be careful," she warned, conceding in the end, just as Sara had known she would.

Sara herself hadn't a single misgiving about going; in fact, she was looking forward to it. She was delighted to have been included, but she was also rather intrigued to see what would happen.

On the night of the event, the atmosphere among the women—there were nine of them altogether—was alive with curious excitement. The women giggled sporadically at the smallest provocation, causing a chain reaction of nervous tittering throughout the room. Sara saw that the women from her office were already clustered into their own little group. One of them noticed her and excitedly gestured for her to join them.

"Hey! Hello," they chirped enthusiastically. Apparently Sara was not as invisible at the office as she thought.

"I never would have figured you for the type to be into this," Becky from Data Entry told her.

"Well, it sounded like fun," she replied, remaining neutral. She didn't want to insult anyone who actually believed in such things, but on the other hand, she didn't want them to think she was some kind of a nut, either.

"You're going to be amazed!" said Pam from Accounting. "I've been to a bunch of these before, but this woman is truly gifted."

Sara wore an impressed expression. "That's what I heard." She looked at Michelle, the receptionist, who only smiled shyly.

"I'm just here out of curiosity," she admitted with a little laugh.

"Okay, ladies," came a strong voice from the front. "If you'll all gather around the table and be seated, we're about to begin."

"Come on," Becky said to Sara. "You'll sit with us." There was an excitement in her voice that was catching. Sara's skin prickled with anticipation.

The clairvoyant's name was Margaret but she encouraged everyone to call her Maggie. She began with a rather long explanation of the spirit world and her philosophies about it. She had a careworn, almost pained look about her that added to her semblance of authenticity. She spoke of the spirit world as if it were more real than the one they were currently residing in.

Sara listened to Maggie skeptically. Everything she had been taught within the confines of her religious background—even those teachings she had rejected—rushed through her mind, contradicting each and every assertion the clairvoyant made. Maggie was explaining that the spirits she spoke to were actually people who had lost their earthly form, but still remained tied to Earth. Some were waiting for the right time to take on another life-form, while others simply chose to stay in the spirit realm. She compared them to angels—guardian angels—and claimed that they looked after the living. She explained that a spirit's connections with the people they left behind remained strong, although their interest in worldly concerns had, for the most part, disappeared. They had no thoughts for earthly or material things. This was why, Maggie claimed, they had such difficulty remembering names, and often attempted to identify people with only a letter from the alphabet. Sara had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes when Maggie concluded by adding that the letter a spirit gives her could apply to a first, middle or last name of a person.
Well, that sure makes it easy for you,
Sara thought to herself.

"While many of you will want me to find out if your loved ones are doing all right," Maggie continued, "the reality is that they come to me to offer you help, and ensure that
you
are all right."

Maggie claimed the spirits were gathering around her at that very moment. She asked the women to be patient with her when she appeared distracted as the spirits were constantly speaking to her.

Sara was becoming more and more anxious for Maggie to get on with it. But before she began, she lit a candle and said a short prayer.

Almost immediately after saying "Amen," Maggie singled out one of the women at the table.

"You," she said pointing. "What's your name?"

"Francesca," was the nervous reply.

"Francesca," she repeated. "There's a spirit here who is quite anxious to talk to you." Francesca's eyes grew wider. Maggie tilted her head to one side as if she were listening intently. "He keeps saying, 'Ladybugs. Ask her if she remembers the ladybugs.' He's giving me the letter E."

All the color drained from Francesca's face. She answered in a shaky whisper, "After my grandmother…" she looked around the room at all of the women as she emphasized the next word "…
Elizabeth
died, my grandfather and I went out and collected ladybugs. My grandmother loved ladybugs." Tears filled her eyes, but she laughed at the memory. She looked at Maggie again. "It seemed like I kept seeing ladybugs right after Grandpa died, too," she told her.

"That was him," Maggie confirmed. "He's telling me that he always sends ladybugs when he wants to get your attention."

Francesca laughed. "Is he…Has he seen Grammy?"

"He says they're together and they both love you. They're always with you, he's saying." Maggie smiled at her. "He wants you to be sure and always keep an eye out for the ladybugs."

Sara turned to look at Becky and the two stared meaningfully at each other for a moment, communicating their mutual amazement at what they just witnessed. It was quite extraordinary, and yet Sara wondered if it could have been staged.

But as Maggie worked her way around the table, it seemed that she always hit upon some link, or unearthed some undeniable and distinct tie that the person had shared with a loved one who had passed.

As Sara watched these proceedings, she wavered back and forth in her impressions—one minute convinced that Maggie was really communicating with the dead and the next wondering if she wasn't actually just making some very good assumptions based on the information she had gleaned from each of the women. She found herself critiquing the details that Maggie brought forth. Were they specific enough, or could they apply to anyone? She couldn't deny that some of the details were so specific that there was no disputing their validity. At one point, Maggie turned to one of the women and said, "Who's Amanda?" When the girl, taken aback, replied nervously that it was her best friend, Maggie, without even missing a beat, continued. "Could you please tell her that her aunt wants her to make up with her mother?"

Sara, like the rest of the women in the room, could not help but gasp in amazement.

"I'm only repeating what they tell me," Maggie kept saying.

Sara suddenly began to wonder what Maggie would come up with when her turn rolled around. Other than a few distant relatives that she had barely even known, there wasn't anyone in her life who had died.

Sara's heart felt as if it were going to leap from her chest when Maggie's gaze finally came around the table and settled on her.

"Jimmy," Maggie said, staring at her with an expectant look.

Sara felt her face heat up as she searched her memory for a Jimmy. A feeling of panic swept over her when she failed to locate one. She had never known anyone named Jimmy before in her life. She wondered if she should make something up. She shook her head, confused. "I…don't know any Jimmy," she said uncertainly. "Is it…Could it be someone I'm about to meet?"

"He's standing right beside you," Maggie said. "He's telling me that he came here to see you."

Sara felt an unreasonable sense of culpability for not knowing who Jimmy was. She looked at the clairvoyant apologetically. "I'm sorry…I don't know who it could be," she stammered.

"Mmm." Maggie turned her head sideways and was thoughtful a minute. "He's telling me you're kindred spirits."

Sara stared at Maggie. "I don't know what that means," she said.

"He's saying, 'We move in the same circles,'" Maggie continued, undaunted. "He wants me to tell you that he's looking out for you now and that you're going to be all right. He says you've had some pretty big changes in your life lately, involving 'R.' Whose name begins with an R? He's telling me that 'R' has uprooted your life, but that it will be all right. He keeps saying, 'Now, it will be all right.' Have you had any big changes recently?"

Sara stared at Maggie in disbelief. She could feel a tingling sensation working its way up the middle of her back like an icy finger as the light, feathery hairs on her skin stood up in alarm.

"I…moved here a few months ago and just started a new job." There were murmurs of acknowledgement that these were, indeed, big changes.

"Was there anyone else involved in this move?" Maggie encouraged.

"Yes," replied Sara, stealing quick glances around the table at the amazed expressions of the women. "I came out here to live with my boyfriend, R-Ray." There were sharp intakes of breath all round the table.

"Jimmy keeps insisting that Ray is not the right man for you," Maggie said. Her blunt words only served to give her statement more credibility. "I'm just the messenger here," she added. "I simply repeat what they tell me." Even she seemed a little surprised by what she had just said.

Sara was stunned. Hers was the first spirit to convey such a negative message. Relatives, lovers and friends had all come forth with words of wisdom, comfort and love, but here was the spirit of someone she didn't even know giving her this piece of news, and in front of everyone, no less. She didn't know what to say. She felt a hand squeeze hers under the table and she looked up to see that it was Becky's. To her chagrin, tears were filling her eyes.

Thankfully, Maggie was already moving on to the next spirit. The women laughed at something Maggie was saying, but Sara couldn't concentrate on what was being said. She went through the motions, mirroring the responses of those around her for the rest of the reading, but she didn't hear another word. She was brooding about what Jimmy had said about Ray.

A sense of foreboding came over her. She had been so certain that she had gotten it right this time. Why else would she have uprooted her whole life to be with Ray? She had never been this sure about a man before. And she was so happy with him. They did nothing but laugh all the time that they were together, and she loved being with him. Everything was going so well.

She thought about their sex life and immediately brushed the thought aside. It was just that he loved her so much, she assured herself. He was so excited when he was with her that he couldn't control himself. That was a good thing, right? It meant that he was attracted to her. Anyway, what did that matter? Life was about more than just sex.

She tried to rid herself of the feeling of dread, but it seemed to have settled into her bloodstream like a poison. Again and again she reminded herself that the source of this supposed knowledge was a woman who spoke to dead people! How could she possibly let that affect her?

But it had affected her and Sara left the little gathering feeling as if she had been infected with something truly awful.

When she got home, she rushed into Ray's arms and immediately felt better. How ridiculous it seemed all of a sudden to let someone else—especially a false prophet, as her mother would have called the woman—predict your future! Sara clung to Ray, delighting in his warmth and goodness, and in that moment she was truly grateful for the teachings of her youth. Thank heavens she had the good sense to distinguish what was real from what was not.

As she examined Ray throughout the rest of that night, his look, his manner, everything about him was all that she had ever wished for. She could find no fault with him even when she tried.

By the time they went to bed that night, Sara was laughing at herself. She could not believe she had allowed herself to be affected that way. When Ray reached for her, she pulled him to her almost violently, clutching his hair in her fingers and spreading kisses all over his face. He immediately responded, delighting in her enthusiasm. She wanted him so much—needed him, even—that she was actually ready for him when he straightaway moved in between her legs and began making love to her. She clung to him eagerly, forgetting all of her earlier concerns as the desire escalated into a yearning she couldn't remember ever feeling before. It felt so good to have Ray filling her. The feel of him, so strong and hard, had all of her senses quivering with awareness. Losing herself in the sensations, she began undulating her hips beneath him. She abandoned all awareness but the pleasure. She could feel it building steadily as she mindlessly ground her hips against him.