Killer Geezer

by T. Jackson King

  Stella stepped back a pace, looked me over, then smiled like a human lotus. “I believe you. Your auras show nothing but goodness within a starburst of power.” She reached out her right hand.

  I gripped it and thought of healing energies flowing down my right arm. The way I had thought to heal Claudia’s burned palm. My energies flowed into Stella’s right hand a bit longer than they had with Claudia. Then they stopped. I let go.

  Stella looked down at her right palm. Her eyes widened. “The scar! It’s gone!” She looked at me sternly. “How often have you healed?”

  “Your hand was the second time. Since Tuesday. When all this landed on me.”

  “Twice in two days?” she gasped, then gained control of her emotions. Her lightly tanned cheeks turned pale pink. “I felt . . . I felt the healing flow. It was so natural. And . . . nice feeling. My partner Celine would love to feel that power.” Stella peered at me with wonder, hope and concern. “Celine has cervical cancer. An operation is planned in a week. But the docs are not sure it will remove all the cancer. Are you, can you . . .” She stopped and shook her head. “Damn. There I go, making demands on you. Sir, may I know your name?”

  I sighed. Her wish for me to heal her partner was normal. “I’m Jack. Jack Hansen. Been living in Santa Fe for about ten years now. I’m on my own.”

  Stella gave me a full, honest and friendly smile. “Jack, I apologize for pressing you to use your gifts to benefit my partner. It was just, I was just, well, Santa Fe has never been visited by a Healer able to do what you just did to my palm. At least in my lifetime.” She turned thoughtful. Then moved to come out from behind the counter. “Jack, let me show you a few books on coping with psychic powers. The authors do seem to have studied under some meditative masters. And to have encountered a few people with basic powers like depth empathy, seeing auras and precognition of the type where you know who is calling on the phone when the phone rings. Or today, buzzes.”

  “Thank you, Stella,” I said as I followed her back to the big reading room where her guy assistant had gone. “You are the first person I’ve met who takes my issue seriously. In the ‘dealing with it’ sense,” I said, granting Claudia recognition for her acceptance of the reality of my powers. “It’s been a few hard days since Tuesday.”

  Stella glanced back at me as we walked toward the far room. “Tuesday? Jack, were you involved in that police call to where three gangbangers died and a fourth was knocked unconscious?”

  Lying is not something I like to do. But I’d discovered it was sometimes necessary. “Not really. I live near there but was walking along Canyon Road when whatever happened occurred.”

  Stella blinked, looked me over, then nodded slowly. She turned back and kept walking. “Your aura tells me otherwise. But that is between you and me. And just so you know, I will keep confidential everything you have shared with me.”

  That was nice to hear. I liked Stella. And it seemed I could trust her. Which led me to a question I’d just thought of. “Stella, can you teach me how to ‘see’ auras? I think it might help me in figuring out which people I run into are truly evil and which ones are just deluded or hurting.”

  She chuckled softly. “Jack, I will be glad to help you see auras. In truth, I am certain you already have that ability. Activating it just requires thinking in a certain way. Ah! Here’s one of the books. Abraham, will you get that purple book down from the top shelf for me?”

  The young guy in the Earth Day t-shirt turned, looked at Stella, then nodded eagerly, clearly wanting to please his boss. He reached up and pulled out a slim book from a shelf seven feet up. He handed it to her. “Here you are, Miss Stella.”

  Stella turned to me and thrust the book into my hands. “Jack, this book is a good start. No charge. Uh, if I find the other two I know of, can I give you a phone call to let you know I’ve found them?”

  She wanted a way to get in touch with me. Well, that was okay. “Sure, Stella.” I told her my number, the one on my simple Kyocera flip phone. “Thanks for the book.” I turned and headed for the entrance.

  I needed to find a safe place to read this book. And while I have always liked libraries, the uptown library on Llano Street was a bit far away. My apartment would suffice.

  My stomach rumbled.

  Clearly the energy I’d spent healing Stella’s hand scar now required food energy resuscitation. Heading out the entry door, I pulled a candy bar from my front pocket, tore it open with my teeth and bit into its sweetness as I headed for the Railyard and the buses that would get me home.

  After I read the book I would head out for a real, hot lunch somewhere. While the Second Street Brewery at the Railyard was decent for lunch, maybe I would eat at Café Loco. Most of my few friends were there. For breakfast at least. Mabel for sure would be there. I’d see who else was there. After I finished this book on coping with psychic powers.

  “Jack? Are you there?”

  It was Stella’s voice on my flip phone. I’d been sitting on my green fabric couch at the front of my apartment, ignoring the view of the kitchen alcove in the middle and my bedroom at the far end. Daylight filled the space, thanks to skylights that cut through the peaked roof of the garage apartment. That natural light was something I’d liked when I had first met the Websters and asked about their ad. Another thing I liked was the modern kitchen and the full bath just off my bedroom. Best of all was the wide picture window behind the couch which gave an easy view of Calle Corvo. I liked being elevated with a wide view of where I lived.

  “Yes, Stella, I’m here. Some reason you called?”

  She laughed lightly. “Beyond my continuing astonishment at your aura and your abilities? Well, yes. I realized I can teach you to see auras over the phone. No need to return here for that. You wanna give it a try?”

  Did I? The tome she had given me was interesting but filled with words about spiritual relationships that I had no clue to. Learning to see auras sounded like something real.

  “Sure, I’m willing. What do I do? And what do you do?”

  “Jack, you need to look at something living. Yourself in a mirror, or a dog or cat you may have at home.”

  My full length mirror was in my bedroom, on the back of the door to the bedroom. My buddy Sancho was closer. The Arizona Alligator Lizard was basking on a rock in the glass aquarium I’d bought him years ago. Which I’d turned into a terrarium of brown sand, black lava rocks, fake green plants and a heat lamp on the top edge to afford him a siesta. Done with his midday meal of fresh crickets, Sancho had his black eyes fixed on me, watching, as I was the only thing mobile in his immediate environment. His brown scales gleamed brightly under the small spotlight at the top edge of his terrarium. The black-brown rings that decorated his scales from head to tail were less reflective. He could move fast, when he wanted to. Mostly, though, he spent his days lounging around, except for the times I brought him out to sit on my shoulder and then run along the couch. A live grasshopper always brought him back to me for safe storage in his desert-style home in the terrarium.

  “No cat or dog. But I do have my lizard pet Sancho. He’s about ten feet from me in his terrarium.”

  “Sancho?”

  I grinned. “After Sancho Panza, the buddy squire of Don Quixote de La Mancha. The movie. Remember?”

  She laughed loudly. “Oh my! Oh, what an image. A lizard riding a horse!”

  I grinned too. “Not quite. Maybe riding the shoulder of Peter O’Toole. Anyway, he’s here. Will he do?”

  “Yes, any animal will do. Although the aura of reptiles is usually less strong than the auras of mammals. And all animal auras are less complex than human auras.”

  “Well, how do I do this aura seeing thing?”

  “First, put your cell phone on speaker mode and put it down somewhere close to you.”

  “Done.” I put the black phone on the wooden coffee table that sat in front of my couch.

  “Next, relax. Sit at ease.”

  I relaxed back against the so
ft cushion of the green fabric couch. “Sitting at ease.”

  Over the phone I heard Stella whisper a ‘I’m busy right now, you handle it’ to someone. “Good. Now look at Sancho.”

  “Looking at him.”

  “Focus on an edge of him. Like the outline of his back or his head or his tail. Anyplace where there is an edge. And I hope the wall behind him is a solid color.”

  I focused on Sancho. Who was bigger than my hand. The wall behind him was a solid beige color. Not great but better than curly-q wallpaper. I focused on his long, low back ridge.

  “The wall is beige. I’m focusing on his back.”

  “Good. The key here is to let your focus go while staring at his back. Let go your effort to get a sharp picture. Tell me when you see a second outline just above the skin edge. It may be pretty pale.”

  I did as she directed. Tried to at least. Suddenly things happened. Not only did I see a bigger outline of the entire body of Sancho, but it had several colors in the outline. Kind of like a shadow that was as bright as the normal color of Sancho’s body.

  “Uh, Stella, I see more than a pale outline. It’s like . . . it’s like a double image of Sancho that wraps around his body and also hovers in front of him. Kind of like a see-through mist. Weird.”

  “Oh!” she gasped. “Well, I thought you could see auras. Turns out you just got beyond the learning stage to the whole body view. What are the colors you see?”

  I focused on Sancho but in a dispersed way. “Next to his body is a normal red. Next out is orange. Yellow shows next. Beyond that is a solid green, which is the outermost color I see. What do the colors mean?”

  A sigh came. “Jack, you are seeing more detail than most aura seers can view. I’ve seen similar colors when visiting the reptile room at the Biopark Zoo.” A quiet pause came. “The red is the standard color of survival energy. Orange indicates vigor and stamina. Yellow reflects identity and playfulness. Finally, green is the color of nature and growth. In short, your lizard is showing colors normal to a reptile interested in food, survival and having fun with its keeper. You.”

  I smiled. Sancho was definitely playful with me when I brought him out of his habitat. “Okay. Uh, with people, what do I look for?”

  Stella coughed. Then cleared her throat. “It varies. But yellow-green indicates someone is passionate. Blue indicates cool calmness and you love helping people. Gold signifies divine protection and enlightenment. Silver is nurturing.”

  Nice. But not what I needed. “What are the negative colors? Colors that indicate harm or evil intent?”

  “Well, dark red indicates anger,” Stella said softly, sounding concerned. “Dark green represents blame, jealousy and resentment. Black is . . . well, black indicates the opposite of goodness. An intensely black aura which is all that shows on a person usually indicates a malevolent spirit has overtaken the person.” She paused. “However, black threads amongst normal aura colors can just indicate a troubling emotional response to some event.”

  Sooo, dark red, dark green and pure black were the aura colors to watch out for in people I meet. I felt sure none of my café buddies had blackness in their auras. But Santa Fe had a population of 90,000 or so. I’d already met a few deadly evil persons. And one in Albuquerque. At least now I could detect evil when it approached me. Too bad I couldn’t become invisible to normal people.

  “Stella, thank you.” I looked back at Pancho. My lizard’s colors had gone softer. His eyes were closed. He was asleep. “I owe you.”

  She laughed softly. “Not at all. Jack, I love seeing your aura colors. Come by again when you have a chance. I found the other two books on coping with a sudden onset of psychic abilities that I mentioned earlier.”

  I winced. Would those books be as deeply philosophical as the book I’d been reading? Well, Stella meant well for me. That I’d seen just before taking her hand in mine. I’d always believed there were far more good people in life than bad. Stella was one proof of that. And further proof that I could heal, in addition to causing pain or death to the bad ones. Telling myself the odds should favor me, I grabbed my flip phone, clicked off the speaker function and put it to my left ear.

  “Why, that’s good to hear. Thank you!”

  She chuckled. “Is that the kind of ‘thank you’ that makes me wish to see your aura? Telling an untruth causes a streak of blackness to flare briefly atop one’s aura.”

  “Oh?” So now I could tell if someone was lying to me? A useful talent. “Well, um, I guess it’s good we are not in direct view of each other!”

  She laughed loudly. “Oh, Jack! Honesty is so becoming to you. Anyway, glad I could help you discover your aura seeing ability. Good luck with your other issues.”

  Luck I would most definitely need. “Thanks, Stella. You are a jewel. A jewel brighter than any you have on display in that shop of yours!”

  “Many thanks. See you whenever.”

  “For sure. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I closed my Kyocera.

  My stomach rumbled. I felt strong hunger. Even though I’d not done much with my psychic powers today, still, I’d used them. Time to refuel. And Café Loco was closest. Even though I disliked the noonday crowds, I could put up with them. And maybe, just maybe, being in a crowd was one way to avoid being attacked by muggers and grifters aiming to take advantage of an elderly geezer who supposedly was weak, unstable and not fast to react. At least at the café I’d be among friends. Some friends. Time to see who was there.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Café Loco was much the same as it had been two days ago. Today, Thursday, I sat at my back wall table, the chair opposite me supported my brown corduroy jacket with leather elbows. I’d worn it along with my khaki pants and leather shoes as an effort to look different than how Juarez had described me. Angelina sat at a twofer table next to me, her black hair flaring out in a bubble, like the young Blacks had worn in the 60s and 70s. A few white streaks in her hair proved she was older than sixty. She was eating an enchilada plate. Beyond her sat Petros, our descendant of early Greek immigrants to New Mexico. He was chewing on a red carrot from his salad bowl, his burly face clearly not happy at the healthy fare in front of him. Behind Petros sat Carlos, spooning up a red chili stew in a manner that made his handlebar mustache waggle like airplane wings doing a midair maneuver. Leroy and Christine were not present, eating elsewhere or at their apartments. Like me they were retirees on a budget. Looking back at my plate I smelled the warmth of my bacon cheeseburger, fries and diet pop. The burger was half gone and I knew I’d order a second one in order to satisfy my psychic hunger. The rest of the café was filled with young business pros in suits and a few PC-looking matrons and would-be studs. Mabel was the lead waitress among the three working the noon shift. Today she was dressed in a red skirt and pale red blouse with her name tag on her upper left chest. Curvy she was but also very busy.

  I blinked and stopped looking with focus. Colors blossomed all around me. Every person was enveloped in an egg-shaped aura of colors, most colors being clear red, orange, yellow and silver. A few people showed flashes of black, indicating they’d just told a lie to a co-worker with whom they sat at a table for four. Two of the PC matrons who faced each other over bowls of kale and red pepper rinds had dark green elements in their auras. My book reading said that color was usually indicative of jealousy or resentment. The dark pink of immaturity showed on a few of the biz folks, always guys. Though the dozen biz types did their best to dress stylish in the latest fashions, most of them, whether male or female, showed colors indicating insecurity, immaturity and passion. The sounds of three dozen people talking, arguing and trying to dominate someone else were rather loud. It made me wish I wore hearing aids like Leroy. Those I could turn off. Sadly, all my normal senses were at healthy levels. No way could I ignore this bustling, energetic and competitive crowd. Mabel glanced my way, gave me a bright smile, then fixed her green eyes on a middle-aged matron who snapped her fingers at our queen waitres
s. The matron had a lot of dark green in her aura, the sign of low self-esteem, resentment and jealousy. Which explained her behavior. Mostly. Jerks were just jerks the world over.

  The glass front door swung open with a bang.

  “Everyone! Hands on your head and knees on the floor. Now!”

  Four guys wearing ski masks that showed only eyes and mouth had just busted into our café. All four carried guns. The yelling leader held a shotgun while the other three held revolvers or semi-auto pistols. They lined up in front of the bay window that gave a view of Canyon Road. Dressed in blue jeans and Hawaiian shirts, it was clear they wanted to appear as customers, from the outside. One guy was shorter, maybe younger than the other three. Leader guy swung his shotgun. His lips moved.

  “Anyone who brings out a smartphone or touches one gets dead real fast!” He looked at Mabel, who was closest to him. “Tell your cook to come out here! And open that register. We want cash. Fast! Or someone gets hurt.”

  “Yes, yes! I will!”

  Mabel yelled through the order window for Lorenzo to come out. Which he did, wearing a grease-stained white apron, a reversed baseball cap and a dark frown on his Italian face. She headed over to the checkout counter, which stood in front of the order window. Looking confused by the people dropping to the floor on their knees, their hands on their heads, with several elderly women crying in low tones, she clearly wanted to help her customers. Reaching aside as she watched her people show fear and lots of worry, she tapped on the electronic register’s flat screen.

  I had joined Carlos, Angelina and Petros in kneeling on the floor, our hands atop our heads. Carlos looked even more grouchy than usual. Petros was breathing fast, as if the sudden shock of being robbed was making him faint. Or, maybe upset enough to do something judging by the angry look of his black eyebrows. Angelina was on her knees but her hands rested on her hips, arms akimbo, as if disgusted with having to be on her knees, her yellow pantsuit getting smudged.