In My Dreams (4 page)

The chilled wind bit my face as soon as I stepped out the front door. The thermometer hanging from the side of the cottage read six-degrees. I shivered, pulling the hoodie over my damp hair.

I jumped in my jeep which was now a freezer box, and turned it on. The Jeep roared to life, so I quickly turned the heater up to its max. The water bottle I’d left in from the other day was now a solid block of ice. I felt like I was being put into a cryogenic state as the below-freezing air blew at me. I shivered to my core, debating whether to run back in and grab my thicker jacket, but the mere thought of getting out of the jeep, unlocking the door, grabbing my jacket, and so forth… not gonna happen. Instead, I put the car in drive and headed towards the store.

The day was its usual, dark and foggy – picture perfect of my internal feelings. I wondered how I’d ever get through this gloomy, depressing weather. If it snowed it wouldn’t be so bad, but then there were too many wonderful memories that I had with Michael in the snow. It was a lose-lose situation, anyway I looked at it.

I finally reached the store, just as my heater started to blow signs of warm air. Figures. I pulled into the small lot, barely lit by a single flickering light-post, and parked in one of the six empty stalls. I glanced at the time and realized that I was a half-hour early.

I couldn’t help but think of Michael. It would be impossible to suppress the overwhelming feelings I had inside, but I had to try, at least until I finished my shift. I tucked the Visine into my pocket for added assistance.

As a child, I’d become accustomed to shutting my feelings off. My young heart had grown a thin protective layer around it; a callous to guard from the pain. It helped me to function through the many stresses I’d had to deal with. But through the years, Michael helped me peel away the hardened layers, so I could learn to love, live, and trust again. I sighed, staring into the darkened office, wondering if I should go in. It was a whole lot warmer in the store than it was in the jeep. Plus, Mrs. Kelly always kept the heater on during the winter. With a sigh I turned off the jeep and slid out into the cold. As I turned to grab my purse, I felt a hand grasp my shoulder.

“Ahhhh--!!!” I screamed, as an electric jolt of fear shot through me. I jumped and whacked the top of my head on the top of the door-frame.

“Sorry! Sorry!” a woman exclaimed, shuffling backwards, holding her hands up. She was about my height with tanned colored skin, high cheek bones, and long, black hair which hung in single braid over her left shoulder. She wore a furry light brown parka which matched her furry boots. They looked like they were authentic animal skins. The worry in her dark brown eyes persuaded me that she was harmless.

“I am so sorry. I did not mean to frighten you,” she said in a calm, native Alaskan accent.

“No-no…It’s alright. You just startled me. I’m a HUGE scaredy-cat and all this darkness doesn’t help,” I muttered rubbing my sore head, trying to steady my trembling legs.

“Are you - Elizabeth?” she questioned. Her eyes became wide waiting for my answer.

“Yes,” I replied, completely dumbfounded. How did she know my name?

“Oh! Thank goodness,” she breathed with her hand over her heart, “I have come such a long way to speak to you. Do you have a moment?”

I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out who she was or why she’d want to talk to me. I studied her face to see if I’d ever seen her before. I hadn’t. This was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on this woman. I knew I would have remembered her. Her face was very distinct, very Native.

“Y-yeah – sure,” I said unsure of what I was getting myself into. “I am early anyway, so please… come inside.”

She held her hand out to me. “My name is very hard to pronounce, so you can just call me Lucy… Lucy Crow,” she said with a wide, gleaming smile.

“Elizabeth Hayes,” I returned, “but you can call me Lizzy.”

She laughed and I smiled back, shaking her cold, soft hand. I hurriedly made my way to the front door, unlocked it, and ushered her in. I flicked on all the lights and locked the door behind us. She followed me to a small room at the back of the store which we used for lunch breaks. “Got some nice stuff in here,” she noted. “You make these things yourself?” she asked, picking up and studying a homemade doll.

“No. The lady I work for makes all this stuff.” I paused. “Can I get you something? Coffee, tea, juice, or something to eat?” I asked, rummaging through the small refrigerator.

“No, thank you,” she replied, plopping down on a wooden chair across me, peeling out of her parka and folding it carefully on the floor next to her.

“That’s a really nice coat,” I said, admiring the thick fur. I could tell it was real. Thank God PETA wasn’t around.

“Thank you. It is an anorak, made from caribou. It was my mothers,” she said proudly, running her fingers across it. She then became distracted looking towards the far corner of the room. Her eyes narrowed, and her face looked annoyed, like she was being bothered. “Just wait… I told you I will! Quiet now!” she demanded to the empty space.

“Excuse me?” I asked in complete shock of her outburst. I wondered if she was talking to me, but I hadn’t said a word other than asking her for a drink or snack.

“Oh my, I am so sorry,” she said noticing my reaction. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “I wasn’t talking to you, Lizzy.”

“Oh… okay.” I said, now completely confused.

Had I just let a psycho lady into the store? I hoped she didn’t just escape from a mental hospital or something like that. I quickly contemplated my easiest escape route and tried to remember some self-defense moves. Then a flash of Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality flickered through my mind and her self-defense lesson of S-I-N-G: solar plexus, instep, nose and groin. Okay…I was set.

“I’m so sorry. Please Lizzy…sit,” she said in a cool, peaceful tone. I slowly took a seat on a small couch which was nearest the door.

She sat up straight in her chair and began nervously rubbing her hands together.

“Lizzy?” she asked apprehensively. She spoke in a slow, cautioned tone. “Do you believe in spirits?”

I was shocked by her question and wasn’t sure how to answer. “Um, do you mean…like ghosts?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied. Her eager eyes fixed on my face, awaiting my response.

“Well… no… I guess not… not really,” I admitted sheepishly.

Emily would sometimes come over and force me to watch episodes of Ghost Hunters or Ghost Adventures, but I never really believed any of it. It all seemed so fake to me. I self-labeled myself a skeptic.

I could tell that the answer I gave her was not the one that she’d anticipated. Her lips turned down and deep creases appeared on her brow. Her eyes quickly glanced back to the corner of the room then back down at her hands. She was wrestling to tell me something. Her hands twisted fiercely around each other and she nervously fidgeted in her seat. The silence was uncomfortable and the tension was unnerving.

“Lizzy – there is something very, very, important I need to tell you,” she began. She clasped her hands tightly together and looked at me through wide, indecisive eyes, trying to articulate the best way to tell me what she needed to. She took in a long deep breath.

“I was awakened last night by the spirit of a young man. He came to me very confused and troubled, and was very desperate to speak to you. I tried to ignore him but he only became more and more annoying and would not let me sleep. He said he would only leave me alone if I came to talk to you and give you a message. That is why I am here.”

I felt my mouth gaping at her. What was I supposed to think? How could I respond to that? Then something in my brain clicked. Could it be Michael? But this stuff wasn’t real… was it?

Her eyes were filled with concern, and I could tell she was uncomfortable telling me. Before I could speak a word… she continued.

“This young man had me drive for many hours from my village up north, to come and find you. He told me that I could find you here.

I shook my head in amazement. “Are you a psychic or… what do you call it – a medium?”

“I guess you could say that. My great-great-grandfather was the Angakuit or shaman of our village. Do you know what that is?”

“Isn’t that a healer?” I asked.

“That is a small part of it. We are channels, or middle persons, between the natural and supernatural world. It is a gift that has been passed down from generation to generation, a gift that I now possess. Most times this gift is helpful, but there are times when it becomes a very heavy burden.” She paused. Her eyes glanced quickly to the corner again. She took in another deep breath and exhaled loudly. Her eyes looked weary. “The young man is here… right now… he is standing next to you.

I gasped and stared at the empty space where she was pointing.

“He is no longer of this earth, but is in spirit.”

There was nothing there; just the empty space. Did she expect me to see a ghost? This whole conversation was beginning to creep me out. Was she for real? Was she really seeing someone that passed? Was it Michael?

I still had to keep my skepticism at forefront, knowing it would be my life-vest. I didn’t want to open myself up only to get burned. However, somewhere - way in the back of my mind… I hoped she was right. I hoped she was talking about Michael.

“Who are you talking about?” I asked, fishing to see if she could give me more information or a better confirmation.

“This person passed so suddenly. His spirit is unsettled.”

Hot tears pooled in my eyes thinking of Michael’s spirit being unsettled. Was it really him? I had to know more.

“Can you tell me his name?” I wiped the wet from my cheeks. I knew that if she could give me his name, I’d be more open to hearing her out. After all, she could talk to him. She should at least be able to provide me a name.

She paused, her eyes glancing over to the empty space next to me.

“His name is Michael,” she said with confidence. “And he wants me to tell you that he is very, very sorry that he missed your fourth anniversary. He wants you to know that he loves you and misses you very much, and he wishes he could wipe away your tears.”

I suddenly broke and began sobbing. I couldn’t hold back the flood tears. I instantly threw every bit of skepticism out the door. She was actually talking to Michael! He was here. In this room. Near me. Talking to me. I wished I could see him.

For some reason he found this woman who lived many miles away, who was open and could hear him. Knowing the skeptic I was, he made her drive all the way down to speak to me. For that, my heart swelled, knowing he cared so much to go through all that trouble.

“Could you please tell him that I love him too and that I miss him terribly,” I sobbed.

“He already knows, Lizzy. He can hear you. He said that he was with you the night he passed, and he hates to see you cry. He also wants me to say ‘forever in my heart’,” I saw her cheeks blush, and then she smiled. “He is leaning over and kissing you on the forehead right now.”

I closed my eyes and pictured Michael standing next to me. “Forever in my heart,” I whispered. “Lucy, can you really see him?” I asked.

“Yes, I can see his spirit energy. He is a very handsome young man, BUT he is also impatient and annoying. - Okay, okay!” she said assertively, looking at the empty seat to my side. “He wants me to tell you that this is not the only reason why he is here.”

She continued, “He received a call from a friend… in some sort of trouble. Trouble with drugs. Michael felt sorry for him and wanted to help.” Her eyes closed. She put her hands to her temples, and looked like she was entering into some sort of trance.

I stayed frozen, and watched. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to catch my breath as I thought back to the dream. I knew something was wrong.

“There was another man. Angry. An evil spirited man. And T-t… Tay … Tie…”

“Tyler?” I blurted softly. Okay, she got the “T” part right. Lucky guess, but I had to give her the name.

“Yes, yes, Tyler,” she agreed; her eyes still shut. “Tyler owed this man money… money for drugs. The man threatened to kill him if he didn’t pay. He called Michael, because he was the only one that could help.” Her breathing became erratic.

“The man had a gun. He made Michael get the money, but Michael didn’t give him the full amount. That’s when…trouble.”

Her head whipped from side to side watching whatever was going on in her mind. Her breaths became faster, more erratic.

“Lucy?” I breathed. I couldn’t stand it. She wasn’t telling me what was going on, but then, I didn’t want to interrupt her. I didn’t want her to turn on me, like a crazy sleepwalker, awakened prematurely. But I wanted details! I wanted to know what she was seeing! It was driving me crazy!

She cried out in agony, grabbing the back of her neck. I leaned forward to catch her, but she didn’t fall. Her eyes popped open and her dark pupils stared blankly into mine.

“He murdered Michael,” she exhaled deeply. A single tear traced the line of her cheek.

“How… how was he murdered?” I begged.

She grabbed my hands and clasped them tightly into hers. She was silent, almost in a trancelike state. Her eyes were glassy and tears began to pool in them.

Just then, there was a loud knocking at the front door. The bell at the top clanged loudly as someone tried to get in. Two older ladies, one heavy and one thin, stood peering through the door. I glanced at the clock. It was 8:17am. The shop was supposed to open at eight. I was late.

“Darn it! Lucy, please wait here… please. I just have to open the shop. I’ll be back in just a minute,” I pleaded.

She nodded and leaned back into her chair, wiping the tears from her cheeks. The timing couldn’t have been worse! I wiped my own face, put a few more Visine drops in, and put on a fake smile to greet the two customers. I hoped they would leave quickly, but instead, they seemed to linger, picking up every-single-item in the store, checking prices, laughing and whispering to each other. I’d never felt more irritated in all my life. My face became hot and my stomach twisted in knots. They were unknowingly agonizing me. The anticipation to talk to Michael consumed me and I found myself hovering over the customers.