Part 15

But much as I would like to pick this woman's brain about the Masons, I'm very conscious of the half-hour I'm paying for.
      “What do you think it was I saw? Ghosts, or a vision, or..?”
      “Well... that is rather hard to say, Kimber. Do you have any history of Seeing? I have a sense that you're definitely open to the psychic realm.”
      “I don't, no... but I'm an artist,” I reply with a wry grin. “Believing in otherworldly things comes with the territory.”
      She smiles in return. “That's always a good thing to hear. Would you like me to do a reading for you, to see what the spirits around you may be trying to communicate?”
      I take a quiet deep breath. And then mentally shrug – can't hurt, anyway, and I have to admit I'm curious. “Yeah, I think so. I've never done this before, so...”
      “That's just fine, I'll talk you through it. Now, Kimber, I want you to clear your mind as best you can. Most people find it easiest to find something simple to focus on – an object in the room, a recent neutral memory, a favorite song. You may close your eyes if it helps, but it is not necessary.”
      I do close my eyes, for the moment anyway. I think about the fountain, mentally following its curls and swirls, the smoothness of the lines...
      “That's it... keep your thoughts calm, it helps the emotional atmosphere stay more clear, and readings more accurate. I am sensing a presence near you... several of them, I believe. One is female, and seems to be casually curious about your life. She watches you, and I think would help you if needed, but is not overly interested. Even now, she is fading... there is a much stronger presence near you.”
      I've opened my eyes at this point, watching to see what she's doing. Anna is sitting quite still in her chair, rocking ever so slightly, but otherwise motionless. Her eyes are closed, and her hands are clasped tightly in her lap. The cats, I notice, have fled the room entirely. I didn't hear anyone call them... either their internal clocks know when feeding time is, or they're not a fan of spirits. I'm suddenly reminded of the black dog in the garden, who wouldn't come near me...
      “This... is a male presence, I believe. There is the power of a man, but...” She is struggling to find words, her brow creases. “Something more than a man... a very, very great power, indeed. He is... I am not sure of his intentions toward you. He is very watchful, but is not open at all to my reading, his willpower is---”
      She gasps suddenly, her fingernails digging into her hands. I lean forward in alarm, unsure if it would be safe to go to her or not. She resumes again, through gritted teeth. “He is quite strong, and you would do well not to anger him, I fear what he might do. He is... not... quite in the world, but not quite gone from it. His presence is much stronger than any ghost I have felt, he...” She trails off again, her face wrinkled in concentration. “Kimber, be careful of him... There is goodness but it is buried deep, I think, there is so much anger in him, so many dark thoughts, s-so----”
      Gasping, her eyes fly open, and she clutches desperately at the armrests of her rocking chair.
      “Anna... are you alright?” I start to get up and go to her, but she waves me back.
      “I'm... I'm fine, Kimber, I'm fine. I've seen worse. But there is something about him... he didn't let me see much, I'm afraid. Very secretive. Most spirits are completely open about their intentions – they actively seek out communication, they want to make known the reason they're still here. But this one... If you have any dark family history, or personal tragedies, I would advise you to find some way to resolve them.”
      I shake my head blankly. “I really don't... there's never been anything I've been involved in. But, I did... In the garden, after I saw the woman, and again, another day, I saw a dog but he wouldn't come near me, and I felt... I didn't think it was anything at the time, but I suddenly felt anxious, scared, there was this horrible oppressive feeling that I just had to get away from.”
      Anna stares steadily into my eyes. I find it awkward to blink, in the grasp of that gaze.