Sleep Stalker (Ghosts Beyond the Grove Book 1) (23 page)

     “He loves you!” I shouted.  “He loves you more than he loves himself!”

     She stood up slowly, allowing what remained of the daisy to fall to her feet.  “Prove it.”

     “How?” I pleaded.  “Tell me how!”

     “Follow me,” she whispered then sauntered off into the woods.

     I followed her closely as she gracefully wound her way through the thickets and underbrush, careful not to touch her just yet.  This was the closest I’d come to her in a long time.  I couldn’t mess it up now.  The gentle swish of the fabric as she walked and the scent of her perfume were both driving me crazy.  But patience was what she seemed to prize above all else so I maintained my distance until she was ready for me.

     We soon came to an ancient looking bridge where she halted before setting foot upon its wooden slats.  Delicately, she pivoted on her heel until we were face to face.  She was so close; the warmth of her breath teased at my cheek until I thought I would die of happiness.  My temperature was rising with excitement.

     “Are you
sure
you’ll do anything I ask of you?  Because once you cross this bridge, there’s no turning back.  You’ll be mine for eternity.  No one will ever separate us.  Is this what you really want?”

     “It is!  Dear God, it is!  I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life!  Let’s not waste any more time!”  I burned for her in such a way that I feared I could burst into flames at any second.  Why was she questioning my loyalty now?

     “As you wish, my love.  Come with me.”

     Slowly, methodically, she crossed the bridge one slat at a time; carefully placing her feet in an even rhythm until she was almost to the other side.  Then, she abruptly stopped.

     “Why are you stopping?  Don’t you trust me?” I screamed in frustration.  “I would follow you to the ends of the earth!  You know I would!”

     “Funny you should say that,” was her reply then she vanished. 

     A rough blow to my shoulder blade sent me flying forward.  I fell face first onto the bridge, able to peek between the cracks at what lay beneath it.  Nothing.  There was nothing but a void where neither light nor dark could penetrate.  One by one, the boards behind me gave way and pitched me into an endless freefall.     

38.  Earthquake

     When she told me that the ride to Sedona would be a scenic one, Roxanne wasn’t kidding.  The landscape was so different here, not to mention the feeling of liberation in being able to dress for the height of summer when it was nearly Halloween.  We talked about my mom and what it was like to be a dancer in general.  That’s when I told Roxanne about playing Kira onstage for one night’s performance at the Bantam Theater.

     “You know, I never thought I would enjoy being the center of attention but it was such a rush.  It was like I absorbed the character for a while and forgot all about the rows of glaring eyes on me.  I wouldn’t mind doing it again someday.”

     “You sound just like her.  Cam didn’t enjoy the audience either—she lived for the performance.  She was the best dancer there because she had such a deep passion for it.  After only her first year in the company, she earned the coveted position of being our solo.”

     Not sure what that exactly entailed, I asked Roxanne to clarify it for me.  And unearthed yet another reason for why I was glad I came to Arizona.

     “The final performance of every show was a solo.  Most solos had to put in at least five years before landing their shot.  Your mom was the youngest solo in the company’s history—probably still is.  Her dancing improved dramatically after our trip to Sedona.  I can still remember how she talked about how she couldn’t wait to be a solo.  Of course, I thought she was dreaming too big at the time.  But now that I think about it, Josette sided with Cam.  It was almost as if they knew for a fact that it was going to happen.  Cam spent a lot of time working on that costume and perfecting her routine.  Before I knew it, there she was holding the coveted spot in the program—the final act.  The Dream Dancer.”

     Dream Dancer.  Roxanne had said that Mom suffered from random bouts of sleep disturbance.  Just like me.  My dreams held a prophetic nature at times.  Was it possible that she really did see the future in her dreams?  Were her psychic abilities even more powerful than mine? 

     “Dream Dancer?” I asked, thirsty for more knowledge on the subject.  “Why did they call her that?”

     “Cam picked the name herself.  She said that she thought it suited her well.  Her costume was delicate and gorgeous—in vibrant shades of green and teal blue.  I wish I had photos of it to show you.  Josette would probably have some but I never took photos at work because, well, to me that’s all it was—work.  Yes, I enjoy dance but I prefer the teaching aspect of it.  I feel more comfortable behind the scenes.  Plus, the diet and the practice involved with being a professional are a very strict regimen.  That lifestyle never really agreed with me the way it did them.”

     After a wrong turn or two, we found El Destino and stretched our legs in the dusty lot for a moment before going in.  The sun felt different here—like since the air was cleaner, more of its warming rays found their way to your skin.  It was too bad that Zach was in no condition for long distance travel.  He would have really enjoyed this place.  I made a mental note to put Arizona on our future travel itinerary then followed Roxanne inside the restaurant.

     If Sedona would teach me nothing else, I learned one very important life lesson before we left El Destino.  While I may have thought I loved Mexican cuisine, I’d never truly eaten it until today.  Wow.  I wanted to pack up the entire staff and every scrap of food in the kitchen and magically transport it back to Ohio with me.  Or at least Pennsylvania.  With Zach’s behavior being what it was, who knew which of the two states was going to be my—correction,
our
—home in the long run.

     But as we approached the heart of Sedona, I forgot all about restaurants and where I was going to live.  All I wanted to do there was breathe.  Breathe in the energy, the vibrations—the entire place felt so alive.  An aura of peace and eternal knowledge resided in those rocks and they made me feel like I was a part of them.  I wandered wide-eyed through the bazaar, absorbing the purity of nature.  If there was any place in the world where I could clear my head, this was it without a doubt.  Then came reason number two for the day of why I was glad I came.

     “You have
got
to be kidding me,” Roxanne said loudly and out of nowhere, temporarily breaking the spell Sedona had on me.

     While I was slightly annoyed at first to have my thoughts interrupted, I was soon glad they had been.  For when I looked up in the direction of her gaze, I saw what had her attention and quickly uttered a four letter word under my breath out of sheer incredulity.

     Stardust Crystals was not only still in business, but Salma herself was meditating on a cushion at the front of the shop.  She would have been over twenty years older than the photo I’d seen of her yet she had barely aged at all.  I felt an uncomfortable urge to sit down beside her. 

     Salma opened her eyes long enough to acknowledge me with a one word greeting then returned to her meditative state.

     “Namaste,” she said with a smile. 

     I had no idea what it meant but I repeated it back to her.  “Namaste.”

     Unsure of what exactly I was supposed to think about while meditating, I concentrated on my desire for answers.  I thought not of my specific problems but simply on my heart’s need for peace.  I don’t know if it was the meditation, the vibes of Sedona, or simply my new frame of mind but peace was what I started to feel. 

     “It’s time—follow me,” Salma said as she unfolded her legs and rose from her cushion.

     Full of hope and courage, I smiled at Roxanne then followed Salma into Stardust Crystals.  The name suited it perfectly.  Every possible inch of space held crystals of every size, shape, and color.  As the sun peeked through the gaps in the tent surrounding the open air layout, radiant beams of colored light shot from all angles as it struck them.  I was inside a giant rainbow and the feelings it stirred inside of me was the real pot of gold at the end.

     Dazzled by the crystals, I was almost disappointed when Salma ushered me behind the curtain where it was darker and less visually appealing.  But when she seated herself and pulled out a velvet pouch, my curiosity took over.  I was about to find out why my mother had led me here.

     “Let me start out by saying this—I’m not psychic.  I can’t look at you and tell you what your name is or the winning lottery numbers for tomorrow’s drawing.  But I
can
see and sense things on a spiritual level.  Don’t tell me why you
think
you’re here. I’ll tell you what actually brought you to Sedona then you can fill in the details.”  She reached into one of many identical glass containers filled with incense sticks then placed one of them into the burner.  “Amber,” she explained as she lit it, “For knowledge.”

     Although she hadn’t said much yet, I already felt enlightened.  And more relaxed than I’d ever been with someone I didn’t know well.  Because oddly enough, she didn’t
feel
like a stranger to me.  I watched with fascination as she dumped the contents of the pouch onto the mat between us.  There was now a pile of small stones in various colors staring me in the face.

     “I want you to take a moment to focus on nothing but the crystals while I cleanse their auras,” Salma said as she waved the incense in their direction.  “When I am done, I want you to pick up the one that speaks to you.  It will help me channel the energy around you so that I can see your aura as well.  Then, point to the stone you feel the least connection with but don’t touch it yet.”

     Without hesitation, I pointed to the off-white stone that looked like a dirty piece of ice.  “That one there—that’s the one I absolutely
don’t
want.  What does that say about me?” 

     With a slight raise of her eyebrow, Salma took note of my selection yet did not answer my question.  “Now pick the one you
do
want.”

     Slightly annoyed by her non-response, I hurriedly snatched the one that caught my eye from the minute it fell out of the bag.  It wasn’t the prettiest one of the bunch, but there was something about the rough-cut stone that I found appealing even though it was an odd shade of purplish brown.

     “Now what?” I asked, clutching it in my right hand. 

     “Now you wait.  Sometimes auras reveal themselves to me instantly—sometimes they don’t.  But this isn’t a process that can be rushed.”  With that, she closed her eyes and sat very still before me.

     How in the world was she going to see my aura if her eyes weren’t even open?  Frustration was starting to set in.  I sat impatiently waiting for nearly five minutes before Salma finally opened her eyes and looked at me.

     Her already gigantic eyes grew wider than I thought was humanly possible.  “That aura!  I think I know who you are!”

     Okay, so that statement was kind of worth the wait.  “You do?  What did you see?”

     Again, I got no reply.  But this time, she got up and began rummaging through an old steamer trunk near the back of the tent.  She returned with a photo album with the word “indigo” scrawled across the front. 

     “Look at these photos and tell me if you recognize anyone.”

     She didn’t need to say any more.  I knew exactly who I was looking for—Mom.  She remembered her from a single visit over twenty years ago.  The album must have been that very same age because I found her in the very first picture. 

     “That’s my mom.  But how did you know that?  How did you know there was a connection?”

     “Indigos don’t pop up every day, you know—they’re the rarest color of auras and I take care to remember each and every one of them.  If you skip ahead a few pages, you’ll see just how few pictures are in there.”

     When she handed me the album, I assumed it was full but I was wrong.  There were a total of eleven pictures in there—the second page wasn’t even full.  There was one slot left empty at the bottom right corner.  Based on clothing and hairstyles, the last indigo to pass through this tent did so about ten years ago. 

     “What exactly is an indigo?  And why are they—
we
—so rare?”

     “Indigos are the enlightened ones—the ones with the ability to see the unseen.  I’m one myself.”

     “Oh, that must be because of my near death experience.  It gave me the ability to see ghosts.”

     “No, that may have strengthened your abilities but the base color of your aura never changes.  Did you notice anyone else you knew in those photos?”

     Confused, I looked back through the pictures assuming that I was going to find Roxanne in one of them.  Imagine the shock when I found a picture of
me
.  Well, sort of.  There was a second photo in there of my mother and in this one, she was
pregnant
.

     “That was taken in the early ‘90’s wasn’t it?  That’s me!  Could you see my aura before I was even born?”

     “Yes, your mother was very concerned with your wellbeing but she never explained why.  She came here for reassurance and left quite pleased with what I’d told her.  I automatically thought that she was the one who told you to come here—was I wrong about that?”

     She was dead right but my referral was complicated at best.  So in the most abbreviated version I could construct, I told Salma my life story—my strange past, my puzzling present, and my uncertainty about the future.

     “I’ve told you all that I know about your mother.  She was quite vague during her visits with me.  You need to take a journey.  And when you return, I will have everything you need ready for you.  I can’t fix what’s wrong with Zach but I can give you protection crystals to soothe him in the meantime.  The stone you didn’t want told me what the biggest hurdle in your life is—patience.  Patience is what you lack most yet need desperately.  You have to find a way to be still and listen sometimes.  Answers aren’t found—they’re given when the time is right.”

     Patience.  I hated that word and all it stood for.  I was a doer not a waiter.  But Salma had unlocked another piece of the enigma that was my mother so I decided to take the journey that she was mapping out for me. 

     “Bell Rock Vortex—that’s where you need to go,” she said, handing me a small slip of paper.  “These are the directions.  Hike it alone and stay there until you get a sign to leave.  Then come straight back here.  Good luck and Namaste.”

     Caught up in this whirlwind of excitement, I rushed outside to find Roxanne so that I could start my journey.  Impatiently—again—five minutes of searching for her felt more like five days.  Hurriedly, I told her that I was to hike Bell Rock then return to Stardust Crystals.

     “The more time I spend with you, the more it feels like I’m with Cam.  She was spontaneous and free willed like you.  Bell Rock it is.”

     On the short drive, I explained what happened with Salma and why it was so important for me to go on this hike.  But after one look at Bell Rock, I was about to change my mind.

     Huge.  That thing was huge.  A beautiful
huge
chunk of red rock rising out of the desert floor.  This wasn’t going to be as pleasant as I hoped it would be.  Heights weren’t exactly my best friend and my shoes weren’t appropriate for this kind of adventure.  But I inhaled deeply and could feel its energy start flowing into me.  Not only
could
I do this, I
would
do this.  For Zach.