The Counseling

by Marley Gibson

Jessica nudges me hard. "Holy shit, Kendall. I can see dead people!"

  My eyebrows shoot up. "Who knew?"

  It all makes sense now. I definitely think my parents got their money's worth sending me here to this retreat. It's the best spring break evah!

  The next day, Jess crams the last of her shirts into her duffle bag and turns to me.

  "I'm going to miss you, Kendall."

  "Awww..." I rush to her side of the room and hug her tightly. "We'll totally keep in touch! And you'll have to come to Georgia and visit me."

  "Can't we go somewhere cooler?" Jess teases.

  I smack her and return to my own packing. "It's definitely been ... an experience."

  "You can say that again. And you and Patrick? Seems like that pink aura is just radiating off you."

  My skin warms, giving me away. "You nailed that one too."

  Jess claps her hands and jumps up and down. "I knew it!"

  "Okay, already!"

  She bounds for our cabin door. "I'm gonna go up to the kitchen and get a couple of sodas and Popsicles for us."

  "That sounds awesome! Thanks!"

  The door slams and I go back to folding my clothes. A moment later, I hear the door creak again. "Did you forget some—"

  It's not Jessica.

  "H-H-Hailey ... it's you."

  She walks toward me, no longer dirty and wearing torn clothes. Her hair is clean and brushed, and the bruises on her neck have disappeared.

  "I wanted to thank you, Kendall. You and all of your friends. You found me."

  "I did what I could, Hailey."

  "You brought my family peace. Now I can finally rest."

  "I'm so sorry for what happened to you." Gulping at the lump in my throat, I do my best not to cry again. "Hailey, do you see the light?"

  "I do now. Since early this afternoon. I heard the police are looking for Derrick. Once he knows they've found my body and hears that his skin is under my nails, he'll confess. He has nothing else he can do but come clean."

  "How can you be so blasé about him?" I ask, my anger rising at the killer.

  Hailey smiles sweetly. "Because I'm of the light, Kendall. There's no judgment, hate, resentment, jealousy—these words are unknown to us in the light. Only when one can forgive can one truly advance as a being of the light. And I'm ready for that. I forgive him for what he did to me."

  "Forgive him? Are you crazy? That asshole strangled you and left you in a national park!" I scream.

  "Karma will come back on him, Kendall. I believe that."

  "I don't buy it."

  "It's difficult to explain this to the physical realm, but someday you'll understand, Kendall."

  I hope that day is a long, long, long frickin' way away. A tear slips out of the corner of my eye, but I pay it no heed. "I'm sorry your life ended so early, Hailey. You will find peace in the light."

  "I know," she says. "I'm so glad you came here. They said you were the one."

  "Who is this they?" I ask in a shaky voice.

  "Those on the other side who are still connected with you ... with everyone. They knew your heart was pure and that you would do the right thing, which you did. I can join my grandparents and my aunt Morgan, who are waiting for me. I just had to thank you in person."

  Hailey blows a kiss at me and then disappears.

  I did do the right thing.

  "I have never seen so much food in my entire life!" Maddie Puckett exclaims.

  I have to agree. "Me either."

  Before us, in the backyard of the inn, is a gigamonic smorgasbord. It's Saturday night, and this is our going-away party. Music is cranked and food is everywhere. A small bonfire roars, orange fingers dancing up to the sky. The smell of barbecued ribs, chicken, and brisket fill the air to go along with vats of coleslaw, potato salad, macaroni and cheese, and homemade baked beans. Chris and Glenn know how to put out a spread.

  "Don't be shy, ladies," Glenn says from his position at the pit. "Plenty to eat."

  "So much for dieting over spring break," Willow says.

  "No way," I say. "I'm eating my weight in ribs tonight!"

  We all mill around, laughing and swapping e-mail and Facebook addresses, promising to stay in touch. The digital world makes it easy for us to keep those promises.

  "Don't you want my e-mail?" I hear from behind me.

  I spin around and there stands Patrick, more handsome than I've ever seen him. He's wearing a black short-sleeved polo and tan cargo shorts, showing off muscular arms and legs. I can totally see that he was an outdoorsy guy before his near drowning. I hope he gets back to that—especially the diving that he loves so much.

  "I most certainly want your e-mail. And your cell phone and your Facebook and Twitter—"

  Patrick chuckles. "I've only got a cell and e-mail."

  After we switch digits, he stashes his phone in his pocket and then takes my hand in his. There's no flash of shared information or a psychic connection this time. Just a boy holding the hand of a girl he likes. A girl who likes him back.

  We pile our plates high with food and find a table away from the rest of the group. Patrick feeds me pineapple, and it's like I'm some Greek goddess being worshiped by her faithful manservant. Okay, not that I think Patrick's, like, my manservant ... it just feels so decadent. It's natural and oh, so right.

  His eyes never leave my face and his smile never falters. We have changed each other. For the good. I'm no longer afraid of every psychic connection I have. And he's no longer scared of his own abilities. We were meant to be at this retreat together.

  "I'm really going to miss you," I say, taking the first step.

  He traces his forefinger over my hand. "I'm going to miss you too. I'm really stuck on you, Kendall Moorehead."

  Siiiiiiiiiiiiigh. "Too bad you live in Florida."

  "Too bad you live in Georgia," he mocks.

  I take a bite of the yummy rib and munch on it quickly. "It's not like we live a world apart. We've got the Internet, texting, the phone, and I'm sure we can visit each other. Summer will be here before we know it."

  He hugs me to him and kisses me on the forehead. "You're beyond adorable, you know that? I've never met anyone like you."

  "Is that a good thing?" I ask with my eyebrow raised.

  "It's a very good thing." He tugs me so close that our hips and thighs touch on the bench. "I'm not letting you get away from me anytime soon."

  Swoooooon.

  Is this what it means to find your equal? Your soul mate? And can it possibly happen so young?

  I don't need the answer right now. I only need to enjoy the time I have left with Patrick before we both wing back to the East Coast and our real worlds.

  Ricky hops up and starts dancing, pulling Jess to her feet. They crunk out together in the funkiest way to the festive music. Chris, Glenn, and Oliver clap along and others get up and join in the party. Josiah and Willow move to the rhythm, and then I see everyone part to make way for Micah.

  "What does he have?" I ask Patrick.

  It's something on a string and it's on fire. WTF?

  "Awesome!" Patrick exclaims. "It's poi dancing. I saw this when my dad and I were in the Philippines. Let's go watch."

  "It's what?"

  "Fire dancing," Patrick says. "It's a ball of fire suspended from a strip of rope or a chain. You spin it around in patterns and stuff. It's amazing."

  Patrick grabs my hand and pulls me along. Loud disco music streams from the house speakers and everyone is moving to the beat. Micah is twirling the fire balls on strings around his feet in circular patterns. I keep thinking he's going to burn himself, but he knows exactly which direction to move in to keep the fire in check.

  "Woooo!" I shout out, clapping along.

  "Be right back."

  Patrick hops into the middle with Micah and selects a couple of poi balls, lighting them from Micah's. Patrick twirls and rotates them in all sorts of cool patterns. He weaves and wraps and makes a butterfly formation and then ends w
ith so many circles that it looks like the Olympic rings. At the end, he and Micah stamp out the poi fire and then high-five and fist bump each other. Absolutely breathtaking!

  "You guys should take that on the road," Jess suggests.

  Micah hugs her and says, "You should see me with glow sticks."

  "That was incredible," I say to Patrick and reach up to kiss him. He lowers his head to mine and smacks me soundly on the mouth.

  The disco hit "We Are Family" from the 1970s sounds out and we all—even the La'Costons and Oliver—take to the improvised dance floor, grooving and swinging with each other. I hold hands with the most unbelievable guy I've ever met and I'm surrounded by people who were complete strangers just a week ago. However, our shared talents and abilities brought us together for a reason. We formed an alliance to do good. Our own version of Super Friends ... only Super Psychics.

  I know my mission in life. No longer am I afraid, timorous, or frightened. God will watch out for me. Anona will watch out for me. All of my friends will watch out for me. The ones I have back home, the ones who've moved to Alaska, and the ones I've met here. I'll never give in to bad spirits and I'll never let them win.

  Patrick swings me around and then cuddles me in his arms. "You are so amazing. The most beautiful girl I've ever met. I've never known anyone braver. You're my heroine."

  My heart is totally going to melt into a pile of goo. Patrick's lips touch mine in a thrilling moment and I know I've found my hero.

  * * *

  Epilogue

  Delta flight number 1812 is on final approach to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, and I can't stop rubbing my left arm. The airport limo came to get Patrick and me this morning at the Rose Briar Inn—we shared a ride this time—he had them take a detour to Anonymous Tattooing Company so I could get a small ghost to match his. A dude named Zack was very careful in explaining the process and inking on the smirking specter.

  Patrick and I call him Boo! Mom will freak, but she'll just have to get used to it.

  When the wheels go down on the tarmac, I begin to sense a melancholy creep over me. I'm going to miss Patrick ... and all of my new friends, although I know we'll keep in touch. But when the plane slides up to the gate, I'm actually a little relieved to be home. I missed Celia and Becca and even Kaitlin, the little brat, and I can't wait to get back into the routine of school, homework, and ghost hunting.

  I scoot through Concourse B, resisting the urge for a Chick-fil-layover, and hop the tram. The escalator is slow, so I begin climbing it like a staircase. When I emerge at the top, there stand Mom, Dad, and Kaitlin with a WELCOME HOME, KENDALL sign in their hands. I'm swooped into their arms for a gigantic Moorehead group hug. While these aren't my "real" parents, they are the people who have loved and raised me and continue to take care of me. I am a part of them and they're a part of me.

  The whole time we're at baggage claim, Kaitlin prattles on about her soccer camp and how her team took the cup. I try to act interested, but all I can think of is a promise I made nearly a week ago.

  "Mom?" I ask sheepishly as I tug on her sleeve. "Do you mind if we make an out-of-the-way stop before we go home? It's something I have to do."

  Her gentle face tenses momentarily, but she knows it must be something I have to do. "Of course we can, dear."

  Forty-five minutes later, we stop at the quaint house of Lindsey Wright in Lawrenceville, Georgia. I have to deliver the message of love that Richie, her fiancé, gave me on the airplane. It's the right thing to do.

  Ding-dong.

  A pretty brunette answers the door. "Yes? May I help you?"

  Deep breath for fortification. "You're Lindsey and I'm Kendall." I extend my hand in a very grown-up way; Lindsey accepts it. "Please don't think I'm some kind of wackjob. I'm a psychic medium and I had a conversation with your Richie a week ago."

  Lindsey's face pales and she steps aside to let me in.

  "Please sit," she says. "I've had a couple of psychics contact me. Not one so young ... or bold."

  I sit on the brown suede sectional and cross my ankles. I explain my interaction with Richie on the airplane and how I helped him pass into the light. Lindsey breaks into tears and reaches for a Kleenex.

  "I'm sorry to upset you, but he was insistent that I give you two very important messages."

  Lindsey chortles through her tears. "That sounds like Richie."

  I take out my notebook and read from it. "Lindsey, Richie wanted me to tell you that he loved you more than anything and that knowing you and being with you made his life complete."

  I pause, feeling the poignancy of his words clog in my throat. Lindsey dabs her eyes and smiles through her tears. "Thank you for that, Kendall."

  "There's one more thing," I explain. "He bought you a black pearl necklace from eBay, from the family of a World War Two veteran who got them in Japan. He hid it in the house and it was to be your wedding present."

  Her hand covers mine. "This is a real test. Do you know where he said it was?"

  I gulp hard. "In the attic, by the windowsill."

  Lindsey leaves me and I stare at a picture on the mantel. It's of the man I encountered on the plane, the sweet young woman curled against his side. Richie and Lindsey.

  Overhead, I hear a bit of tromping around, and then Lindsey comes barreling down the stairs. "Oh my God, Kendall! You're the genuine article! Look!"

  She pulls open the velvet case and within the softness sits a necklace of perfectly matched black pearls. Lindsey clutches it to her heart. "I can't thank you enough for this ... and most of all, for Richie's last words. I will treasure them always."

  We hug and I say goodbye. No need for me to linger. My work here is done.

  Celia's eyes grow round as marbles. "I can't believe you just walked up to her door, knocked, and said 'Hey, I had a convo with your dead fiancé.' Damn, K, you've got balls."

  I smack at Celia across her bed, where we're both sitting. "I did what I had to do. It was the right thing."

  She rams her hands into her black hair. "That's incredible!" Then the smile runs away from her face. "Why haven't you been answering my text messages?"

  I shake my head. "So sorry—I've been consumed with this whole Hailey Santiago case. You know, the girl you sketched for Patrick and me."

  Celia gets a knowing smile. "Oh, yeah, cutie pie. What's his deal?"

  "No deal. We're ... connected."

  Celia snickers. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days? I suppose hooking up with some hottie like him was a lot more important than watching the old BlackBerry for crucial messages from your best friend."

  "Whatever," I say. "What was so urgent?"

  "My cousin Paul says that John and Anna Faulkner are presently out of the country, according to his sources."

  "Right," I say. "They're in Italy."

  "How do you know that?" she asks, stunned.

  "Ummm ... I'm psychic?"

  Celia shakes it off. "Okay, there's more. Paul found the Andy Caminiti from your vision, the one who was thought to be in the car with Emily when she died."

  "Crappity-crap, Cel! That's huge! You should have called and told me."

  She holds me off. "I'm telling you now, dude!"

  "Right—so?"

  "Turns out that an Andy Caminiti was Emily Jane Faulkner's boyfriend and may have been in the car with her the night of the accident. He went missing seventeen years ago—no body, nothing."

  I drop my head. "But you just said your cousin found him."

  "My cousin found a her," Celia says.

  "I'm confused."

  "You may have seen it incorrectly in your vision. It's not Andy, it's Andi, with an i. As in short for Andrea. Andrea Caminiti."

  "A woman?"

  Celia nods and adds a duh for good measure. "Andy and Andrea Caminiti were twins. So maybe she can tell you something about him."

  Now I get it! "Where does she live?" I ask.

  "St. Louis."

  I sag in
to the down cushion of Celia's bed. "Damn ... that's not close." But it is closer than Italy. First, I'll find my father, then I'll find my grandparents.

  Celia smiles knowingly. "Well, St. Louis or not, she might know who your father is."

  I think I'm going to pass out.

  And on the way home from Celia's, as I'm shaking like a leaf, I get a text message that rocks my world even more. It's from Patrick and it reads:

  >K - Dad getting transferred. Moving to Dobbins AFB, Marietta, GA. C u soon. <3 P

  Now I'm really gonna pass out.

  To be continued ...

  * * *

  Disclaimer

  The thoughts and feelings described by the character of Kendall and her friends are typical of those experienced by young people awakening to sensitive or psychic abilities.

  Many of the events and situations encountered by Kendall and her team of paranormal investigators are based on events reported by real ghost hunters. Also, the equipment described in the book is standard in the field.

  However, if you are a young person experiencing psychic phenomena, talk to an adult. And while real paranormal investigation is an exciting, interesting field, it is also a serious, sometimes even dangerous undertaking. I hope you are entertained by the Ghost Huntress, but please know that it's recommended that young people do not attempt the investigative techniques described here without proper adult supervision.

  * * *

  Bibliography

  Quote from Aldous Huxley from The Little Giant Encyclopedia of Inspirational Quotes, by Wendy Toliver, Sterling Publishing Company, Inc.

  History of psychics, aura color definitions, and eagle totem information from Picture Yourself Developing Your Psychic Abilities: Step-by-Step Instruction for Divination, Speaking to Spirit Guides, and Much More, by Tiffany Johnson, Course Technology Books.

  Legend of the Wampus Cat from Spooky South, retold by'S. E. Schlosser, Globe Pequot Press.

  Shakespeare quotes from www.enotes.com/shakespeare-quotes.

  Information on cryptozoology from www.cryptozoology.com.