The Spirit Who Loved Me: Spirit Whispers Book One (10 page)

Chapter 13

I swear, Tammy
Lynn never failed to surprise me. I stared at her as she continued to ramble on, not really hearing what she was saying, as she drove us to Malcom’s house.

“Well?”

Apparently, I had missed whatever question she had asked me. “Sorry, Tammy. I guess I’m just so tired still. What did you say?”

“Do you think you could set up a meeting for me with my Spirit Guide? I mean, you did say that we all have one, right?”

“That’s what my Guide said, but I don’t know… That never occurred to me.” Yeah, Tammy took the whole Spirit Guide thing hook, line, and sinker. She didn’t give me any “girl, you crazy” looks, not questioning my sanity for even a nanosecond. She rolled right with it, was eating it up even. I had finally told her last night that I had to go to sleep ‘cause I could barely keep my eyes open anymore. And the next morning I was paying for it with red rimmed eyes that felt like sandpaper.

“You know, Tammy, how do we even know he’s trust worthy?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“How do I know that this….” I put my hands out in front of me. “Spirit, ghost, whatever he is really, is you know, safe? How do we know it has good intentions? What if it’s from devil or something?” And I couldn’t help but cringe at my word choice. “Sort of like what Malcom’s preacher told them about the ghost at their place?” I tried to think for a moment, but my brain was so damned sluggish. “Do you remember?” I asked.

Tammy was annoyingly peppy and wide eyed, looking like she’d woken from a full night’s sleep. “Yeah, I think so, something like if Candace keeps interacting and talking to it, the ghost will gain power or something akin to that.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“Girl, I ain’t no preacher.” She grinned real big. “But you sure didn’t look scared last night when you were talking to it.” She wiggled her eye brows up and down.

“What do you mean?” Cause I knew that those words were weighted down with much more meaning that she was letting on.

“Just say his name one time for me.”

“Abel.” I shrugged, and held my hands out.

She howled with laughter, and I thought she was going to drive us off the narrow country road, and I grabbed onto the passenger door so tight my knuckles were white.

“What, damn it?!”

Her breath came in gasps as she tried to calm down. I had enough when she started fanning herself.

“Krystal, it’s just that when you say his name it comes out like….” She thought for a second, then bounced up in her seat when it came to her. “It’s like honey on a biscuit, girl,” she cackled. “Smooth and sweet, yep, just like honey. And you get this look on your face, this faraway look in your eyes.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me like we shared some special secret, which technically, I reckoned, we did.

“Keep your eyes on the road before you kill us, would ya?” I stared out the window at the passing loblolly pine trees, almost making myself dizzy as they zoomed quickly by. I could feel heat in my cheeks and felt sure they were red. If Tammy thought that, what must Abel think? I scrunched down in the bucket seat far as I might and closed my eyes. I was beginning to drift to sleep when we pulled up to Malcom’s. Least I wouldn’t have to talk about all this nonsense anymore. I glanced at Tammy, who caught my eye and started to chuckle again.

“You hush now, I don’t want to have to tell Malcom too,” I seethed as I watched Malcom dance his way over to the car. I got out. “Hey, Malcom, why don’t you sit up front with Tammy?”

“No, girl, that’s alright.” He hugged me. “The birthday girl should be up front.”

“Well, this birthday girl needs a nap or this trip is going to be a bust,” I said, maneuvering into the backseat.

Malcom shrugged and got on in. I was relieved to have some space from Tammy for a while with her little knowing smiles and all. I tried to get as comfortable as I could and was out before we were even a hundred feet on down the road.

“Hey, wake up
sleepy head!” I felt someone gently shaking my shoulder. I answered by pressing my body deeper into the plush of the backseat.

“Don’t you want something to eat, Kris? We’re here.”

“I kinda figured that out, Malcom,” I said, my voice tinged with the annoyance I felt, still unwilling to move.

“Girl, we’re at Time-Out, now get your butt up. I’m hungry.”

I peeked out the window, shading my eyes from the brightness of the sun to take in the iconic Chapel Hill restaurant, its glowing neon sign beaming from the inside.

“Alright, I’m coming. What time is it anyhow?”

“’Bout eleven,” Malcom shrugged.

“Little early for lunch,” my voice full of sauce.

“We ain’t even had breakfast, Kris. Who cares?” Tammy grinned at me, mischief still in her eyes, looking about as happy as a pig in shit.

“I’m just crabby,” I mumbled and promptly stumbled out of the car. Malcom reached his hand out to steady me.

“It’s just a shame they’re going to tear down this place,” Tammy lamented, pulling the door open for us.

“When’s that supposed to happen?” Malcom asked. “I never heard about it.”

“My dad said that demolition is supposed to start sometime next year,” Tammy answered as we filed in through the glass doors to the restaurant.

“Guess we better enjoy this then, might be our last.” I noticed a few college guys paying for their chicken and cheese biscuits at the register, and they were not only checking out Tammy but surprisingly, me too. I couldn’t help but blush.

I tried to ignore them, instead giving my attention to the hot food laid out behind the glass and my stomach growled. Loudly. My friends laughed.

“Too early for lunch, huh?” joked Tammy.

“Can I help ya’ll?” Asked the older gentleman behind the buffet, his dark skin in stark contrast to the white of his hair.

“Yes, sir,” said Malcom. “I’d like a vegetable plate, please.” He turned around to Tammy and me, giving us a wink and his best smile. “Watching my figure,” he whispered, putting his hands on his waist. We just shook our heads, trying not to laugh as he ordered up fried okra, mashed potatoes and gravy, macaroni and cheese, oh, make that double fried okra, and a biscuit.

“What kind of diet is that Malcom? Fast track to a heart attack?” I laughed, my mood starting to improve by degrees. I could tell the man behind the counter was tickled with our banter, his eyes twinkled with the laughter he was trying to hold back himself.

“And miss, what I can I get for you, today?” I ordered my usual turkey dinner with sides of black eye peas and collard greens, and mac and cheese. My mouth watered while the gentleman carved the golden bird.

“That looks so good, Kris,” said Malcom looking over my shoulder.

“Biscuit or cornbread, miss?”

“Biscuit, please.” The man laid a large square wrapped in wax paper on top of my laden plate. While Tammy ordered her fried chicken, I pulled out my billfold, ready to whip out my dough before Tammy could.

“Everybody getting teas?” I asked my friends, both nodding in reply.

“Can we please get three sweet teas?”

I watched the gentleman as he filled up three Styrofoam cups to the brim with crushed ice, further pushing them to the brink of overflowing as he poured in sweet tea.

“Why don’t you guys go find us a booth?” I suggested as I saw Tammy hesitate. “I got this,” I said holding up my billfold. I had enough left over from my allowance to cover it.

“Okay, but next time it’s my turn.”

I knew I’d have to let her pay next time too or seriously risk offending her. The gentleman rang up our food and drinks, and I handed him two twenty’s, my fingers brushing his. I felt an electric pulse, not unlike a shock from static, run from my fingertips, up my arm, and to my head.
Travis
, echoed through my mind. He looked at me in surprise, I knew he had felt it too. The surprise on his face quickly changed to a knowing smile, and he handed me back my couple dollars in change. He leaned over the register towards me.

“You special,” he whispered. “Yes, ma’am,” he added, nodding sagely in a way only old folks seem to get away with. “You take care now, young lady.”

“Ah, thank you, Travis, I appreciate it.” I studied his kind eyes and added, “You take care too.”

As my friends and I feasted, we talked about our plans for the afternoon.

“We could go to the Morehead Planetarium,” offered Malcom. Last time we’d been there was on a school field trip in the 8th grade.

“I don’t know,” said Tammy. “I think I just want to hang out and walk around and stuff. What do you want to do, Kris?”

I held up a finger while I finished chewing the turkey stuffed in my mouth. “Nothing in particular. I just want to hit that one book shop.” I knew she’d remember why.

“Oh, Krystal, you and your books,” lamented Malcom.

“You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to,” I said, offering Malcom a large slice of turkey, which he happily accepted.

“Oh, girl, this is so good.”

“Shoulda got you some.”

“I just couldn’t decide,” he smiled.

We finished up a few minutes later and cleaned up our booth.

“Sure gonna miss this place,” I said resting my hand on the honey colored wood of the booth. We took an extra couple of minutes to look around at the pictures gracing the walls:
 
Man vs Food from a couple years back, Michael Jordan from his Carolina days, and various UNC team photos. “Yeah, it’s just not going to be the same coming to Chapel Hill without being able to get a bean at Time-out.”

“Oh, don’t you know? We still can. They have a food truck now. My dad gets lunch from it sometimes. Plus, I heard they have a new location; we should try it out our next trip.”

“That sounds like a plan. Thank you, sir, it was excellent,” I called out to the gentleman named Travis as we exited.

“Ya’ll welcome,” he called out and took a moment to wave good-bye to us as he waited for his next customers to decide what they wanted.

As I settled in the passenger seat, I looked through the steamy glass of Time-Out and wondered about the fate of Travis and the other people employed there. It was the last business left in University Square, and I hoped Travis would still have a job. The engine roared to life as I clicked my seatbelt in place.

“Where to?” Tammy asked us.

“How about we find a place to park and we take a walk around the campus for a while?” I knew Tammy and Malcom would like that.

We had a
grand time enjoying all the sights the University of North Carolina’s Chapel Hill Campus had to offer. The weather was chilly for October due to a cold front that had bullied its way in the day before, so Tammy and I bundled up in cozy oversized sweatshirts. Malcom, ever the fashionista, donned a fitted light weight leather jacket.

At least the sun was out, making for brilliant photo opportunities, the leaves various shades of oranges, reds, and yellows. Tammy took most of the pictures since she had a smartphone, apparently far superior to my prepaid cell. My favorite photo by far was one of us standing together surrounded by the white pillars of the landmark Old Well. Tammy had mustered up enough courage to ask a cute college guy, his shaggy blond hair making it difficult to even see his eyes, to take the pic for us, and her face was lit up like a Christmas tree in the picture while Malcom and I were both practically in hysterics.

Finally tuckered out, we rested on an aging wooden bench that had seen better days underneath a giant old Oak tree, its leaves just starting to change to a golden brown. We contemplated our next move and watched the passers-by. Malcom hugged his arms to himself when a cold breeze blew.

“How about we go get us some coffees and warm up for a while?” his voice wobbling with his shivers.

“Geez, Malcom, it’s not that cold out. It’s at least 5o,” laughed Tammy.

“Not counting the wind though,” he whined.

I stood up, stretching my arms, yawning. “That sounds good, Malcom,” I said and took him and then Tammy arm in arm towards Franklin Street.

We window shopped and kept our eyes open for the Krispy Kreme, where I had no doubt we’d be splurging on glazed donuts too.

Later, armed with coffees and warm Krispy Kreme donuts in hand, we headed down toward the book store.

“Hey, Malcom, why don’t we go in the music store while Kris does her thing?” Tammy pointed to a music store just down the street.

I mouthed thank you to Tammy and waved them off, and stood staring at the worn brick of the book store. Despite the fact that I had been excited about coming here only a couple of days ago, now I felt like running in the opposite direction. I should have been shopping for entertaining books to while the time away, now I was searching for some unknown title. With a heartfelt sigh, I finally pushed the door to the book shop open, a tinny sounding bell alerting all within earshot of my appearance. A balding man behind the counter glanced up from his paperwork as he pushed his wire rimmed glasses up his nose and gave me a slight nod before looking down again.

“That’s the good thing about book stores, everybody minds their own business.”
This time hearing Abel’s voice didn’t startle me, I actually welcomed it.

Where to cowboy?
I asked him in my mind.

Religion and Spirituality
.

Oh, great, that sounds exciting. Tell me. Is my sarcasm coming through?

Loud and clear.
And I could hear his laugh echo through my head and my scalp tingled. After a brief look around with no luck, I saw a vision of an arrow pointing up. I stopped short, leaning on the end of a book shelf to orient myself. I looked left, then right, up and down. No matter where I looked, I could see that arrow. I closed my eyes and in the darkness of my closed lids, the arrow stayed in my vision, glowing white.

Abel, um a little help? Why do I keep seeing an arrow?

Quiet yourself and look with in. Tell me what you think it means.

“Miss, are you okay?” It took me a couple of seconds to focus in on the concerned elderly gentleman. The arrow floated above his pale, liver spotted face like a silly hat, and I had to bite my lip to hold the giggles that threatened at bay. In that moment, I realized I’d have to go upstairs.

“I’m fine. I felt a little dizzy, but I’m totally fine now. Thanks, sir,” I said giving my best fake smile for good measure. I saw doubt shadow his wrinkled features, but he gave a little shrug and hobbled off.

We need to go upstairs
, I sent to Abel.

Good job; lead the way.

I shuffled my way up the wooden stairs, dragging my feet, literally. I could hear breathy whispers all around me as if I were wrapped in a blanket of them. The air was heavy, and I felt as if I were cutting a path through it.

Can you hear them?
I asked.

What do you hear?

Whispers, lots of them. What does that mean?

Abel remained silent as I finished my assent before answering.
I’m not sure yet.

That stopped me in my tracks.
What do you mean, you’re not sure? How the hell am I supposed to know what’s happening to me if you don’t even know?

That’s not how it works, Krystal. I’m your Spirit Guide, emphasis on the guide. I’m here to help you, not live your life for you. If what you are hearing is on a different vibrational level than me, I can’t hear what you are hearing.

“Well, that’s just peachy,” I mumbled, glancing around wondering in which direction to go. I suddenly felt a pull to the right and decided to go with it. A few aisles in I found myself staring at an end cap full of psychic books and Tarot cards labeled “Religion and Spirituality.”

Now what?

Take a look and feel what you’re drawn to.

I tucked in the aisle of spirituality books, grateful that the foot traffic up here was dead, no pun intended. I stared dumbly at the books, having no idea of what to look for. There were books on Near Death Experiences, Angels, God, Buddhism, and reading cards. At a loss, I squeezed my eyes shut, and ran my fingers along the spines. A pulse of heat was what stopped me. How could a book be hot? Could it combust? I pulled it out and opened my eyes.

PSYCHIC BOOT CAMP stared at me in huge letters and below the title were the words: “a How to Guide for Opening Up Your Gifts.” Promptly, the book fell from my hands landing with a resounding thud on the wooden boards, sending dust motes flying everywhere. I leaned down on one knee to retrieve it, taking that brief second to rest my head.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” I pressed my palm to my head. “Oh, crap,” I groaned and quickly looked around, those damn whispers tickling at my ears. Thank God no one was around to hear me.
Seriously, Abel, Do you really expect me to march up to the counter and buy this?!
Something else occurred to me.
Oh, my God, if my mom or Bobby see me with this, they are going to freak the hell out on me.

Calm down. You’re fine. Don’t be scared away by the title. There’s a wealth of information. This book will be most useful in helping you to understand your gifts. The author is a renowned psychic medium. Keep it at your granny’s house if you’re so concerned about your parents.

Gifts? Not the term I would use, and Bobby is no parent of mine, that’s for sure.
Don’t you forget it either.

Don’t worry, Krystal. I meant no offense.

I flipped the book open to the back cover, staring at the black and white photo of a middle age woman with what appeared to be blond hair, a shy smile on her face. For whatever a psychic medium was, she sure looked pretty normal to me.

You have one more book to find.

I ground my teeth together, holding back some choice cuss words, glancing towards the various books.
Not here.
I walked past several rows of book shelves, peering down each in turn. I had no idea what to look for.

A little help?
I thought to Abel.

Try walking by the book shelves one more time. Distance yourself from your own personal judgments. Try to see, but see without analyzing. Don’t label everything.

I continued walking around the upstairs of the book store, each foot step echoing through the room. I thought I was too light to make so much noise, but I shrugged it off as I made my way on over to the opposite side of the upstairs area. It looked like it had been quite a long time since this side of the room had seen any action judging by the thick cover of dust on the floor. I imagined the employees coming up here to sweep always neglected this side. I glanced back to see my footprints as if they’d been laid in sand. Along the far wall, one book seemed to stand out from all of the others like a beacon. My steps full of purpose, I strode over and I pulled it out from the shelf. It had a faded, worn red cover but still felt sturdy and quite heavy. A HISTORY of SYMBOLISM in RELIGION & ART.

Okay, Abel, how exactly is symbolism in religion and art history supposed to help me?

Many spirits communicate using symbols. If a soul needs to get a message across, you may get the image of a symbol, and your personal meaning for that symbol will help you to impart the message. You’ll see. Literally,
he laughed.
It will be an invaluable guide for you.

Sure it will
, hoping full heartedly that my sarcasm was still coming in loud and clear, albeit telepathically.
All done?
I asked.

After you.

I turned around, walking back the way I came. I looked over my shoulder. I felt like something was there, but whatever it had been, was now gone. The whispers seemed farther away now; instead of right in my ear, they seemed to be coming from an arm’s length away. But there was still a heaviness, an echoing of my own footsteps, as if someone were trying hard to step in time with me. When Abel didn’t have anything to say, I shrugged it off.

About to descend down the staircase, I spied out of the corner of my eye, movement up in a long forgotten corner. I took timid steps closer and peered in at the dusty mess with an uncontrollable shudder. I tsked my tongue. They really needed to get someone up here to dust. The poor books.

The jumbled mass of cob webs moved again, and I couldn’t help but jump back a half step. I leaned slightly forward to see more clearly, yet I was hesitant to get closer again. The main body of the web began to swoop around and around, faster and faster, a whirling dervish of webbing. My eyes widened. I was frozen in between a mix of fascination and disgust, staring at a fragile looking dust spider riding wildly in the center of the miniature spinning tornado. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, and I doubt you would’ve been able to either.

“What the fuck,” I breathed.
Abel, is that you? Are you doing that?

No.

I glanced over my right shoulder to see a light see-through image of him along with the annoyance that washed over his face before he could hide it from me. Truth be told, I found that more disconcerting than the spinning spider. I shivered. So, okay, it wasn’t really a black widow, but I really didn’t care for spiders, even harmless spindly dust spiders.

What is going on then?

Apparently, my dear Krystal this is your next lesson.

Which is?
Resting the books in one arm, I placed my finger tips from my other hand on my temple and rubbed in gentle circles, hoping to keep a sudden headache at bay.

A presence is making itself known to you.
He pointed at the books in my arms.
You’ll find your answers there.

Sweet.
And I did an eye roll even Tammy would have been proud of.

The momentum of the dusty tornado continued and didn’t look like it would be coming to a stop any time soon. I knew Malcom and Tammy were probably waiting on me, and without another backwards glance, went on my way. I heard a deep chuckle from behind me. I knew it wasn’t Abel, I could feel him next to me even though I didn’t see him anymore. I stiffened my spine and kept on walking even though what I really wanted to do was run.

No one else was in line at the register, and I walked right on up to pay. The balding man had been replaced by a perky looking college student, her blond ponytail bobbing happily behind her head. She didn’t even look twice at the titles of the books. I wondered if she just didn’t care or if people bought far out titles like this all the time. Not that it really mattered.

I handed her the money, my fingers brushing hers much in the same way they had Travis’s at Time-Out. I knew she was actually rather sad, suffering from bouts of home sickness, and she hid it beneath a mask of perkiness for all it was worth. I didn’t really know what to say, so I smiled extra bright and said, “Thank you” when she handed me my change. I made straight for the exit.