Teenage Psychic on Campus

by Pamela Woods-Jackson

  I reached over and turned down the volume. “What’s got you so distracted?”

  “Gary’s new ghost, and I’m dying to hear all about it.”

  Of course. Annabeth and her obsession with the paranormal. I reached over and turned up the music again and we rode the rest of the way in silence. Verbal silence, that is, because the sounds coming from the radio were anything but quiet.

  Annabeth easily found a parking spot right in front of Tony’s Pizza Palace and shut off the engine. We were on the south side of Belford, an older part of town I’d never been in before. The pizzeria was in the center of a strip mall with a sign that should have read Mohawk Landing, but actually it said “Mo awk” because the h had fallen off, and the sign itself and the metal poles supporting it were in bad need of repainting. Next door to the pizza restaurant was a dog-grooming business, and on the other side was an empty storefront. It was early Sunday evening and most of the shops were closed, but then again, many of them were permanently out of business.

  I got out of the car and surveyed the restaurant. “Are you sure this place is okay to eat in?”

  “Yeah, it’s got great food,” Annabeth said. “My dad discovered it ages ago. It’s a family owned place and we’ve been coming here for as long as I can remember.” She linked her arm into mine and led me inside.

  I looked around at the small space. “Kind of a stretch to call it ‘Palace.’” However, the aromas were enticing, and I saw that the restaurant was clean and orderly. On a counter at the back was displayed a list of the day’s specials handwritten on a chalkboard. The half-dozen tables were each covered with a clean red and white checkered plastic tablecloth and adorned with artificial flowers next to salt, pepper, and a shaker of parmesan cheese. Despite my initial hesitancy, I got a warm and cozy feeling about the place. In the corner by the window at two tables dragged together, I spotted Gary, Brenda, and Sean. My stomach rumbled loudly as I followed Annabeth to place our food order.

  “Hi, Anthony,” Annabeth said with a wink to the guy behind the counter. “Caryn, this is…”

  “Tony, Jr. Yeah I figured.”

  “The usual?” Tony asked.

  Annabeth nodded, but then turned to me. “I know you don’t eat meat, but I always order the veggie pizza anyway.”

  I nodded. As hungry as I was, I would almost be willing to eat pepperoni. Well, almost, because that pepperoni used to be…

  “Extra mushrooms, too,” Annabeth told him. She pulled her credit card out of her back pocket.

  He swiped her card and handed it back to her with a flirtatious grin. “It’ll be right up.”

  “He likes you,” I said as I followed Annabeth to the table to join the others.

  Annabeth giggled. “I know. And he always gives me a discount, so I flirt.”

  We each pulled up a chair. Annabeth sat next to Sean, and I was forced to squeeze in between Gary and Brenda. I was beginning to get used to Gary, but I didn’t really know his mom.

  Brenda leaned on her elbow to face me. “Now, can you tell me how you know Eddie’s okay?”

  So we were back to that again. Sometimes when people find out what I can do, they won’t let anything drop. I guess that’s the life of a psychic. But for once, I didn’t really have a good answer for her. “Just a feeling, that’s all.”

  Brenda’s face registered surprise. “How do you even know that much? I mean, how do you get your information?”

  People were forever demanding to know the hows and whys of my psychic hits. It was just so hard to put into words, to explain how it happened, and even harder when they were nonbelievers. But maybe Brenda wasn’t a nonbeliever, since her own son talked to the dead. “What happens is I get a churning in my stomach, a buzzing in my right ear, and then when I close my eyes there’s a movie running on fast forward in my head.”

  “Sorta like how I know there’s a ghost nearby,” Gary told his mom. “The feeling on the back of my neck.”

  Brenda seemed to give that some thought.

  Annabeth giggled and punched Sean in the ribs, who winced. “This is so cool. I’m used to Caryn’s sixth sense, but now there’s two of them.”

  “Annabeth,” Sean said, rubbing his side, “you know Gary’s not psychic.”

  “Yeah, but it’s still fun to watch the two of them do their things.”

  Gary and I exchanged puzzled glances. “Our things?” I asked Annabeth.

  Brenda put up her hand to halt the fan adoration, for which I was grateful. “Caryn, I can imagine it’s not easy to explain. I’ve heard Gary try to put it into words all his life. Could you just tell us what you’re seeing about Eddie’s whereabouts?”

  Okay, I decided to try again. I closed my eyes, opened my energy, and focused in really hard. This time I got something. “It’s a small room. Really small. All white, no decorations or anything. There’s a bed, or really just sort of a cot. No windows, cold but not unbearable, with only one door in and out.”

  Brenda gasped. “Has he been kidnapped? Can you tell if he’s been harmed?”

  I shook my head and opened my eyes. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I got.”

  “Here you go, Annabeth,” Tony said as he set her pizza down in front of her. “Order for Paxton?” He set another large pizza, dripping with greasy pepperoni and sausage, in front of Sean, Gary and Brenda.

  “That used to be a pig you know,” I said, wrinkling my nose at the meat-laden pie they were about to dive into.

  Gary smirked as he picked up a slice, pretended to toast me with it, and took a large bite.

  Brenda rolled her eyes. “I know, right? Boys. It’s what they always order when they come here.”

  “Here, have some of ours,” Annabeth said, shoving the veggie pizza toward her.

  Tony returned with plates, napkins, and five sodas, and winked once more at Annabeth. “Enjoy.”

  The food was hot and delicious, and handmade with skill. I wondered how I’d never heard of this place before. I also enjoyed talking to Brenda Riddell, who was smart and could talk about anything from sports to Shakespeare. It was obvious how close she was to Gary. Sort of like my mom and me.

  Then I remembered Ned Harrington and how dejected he was at not having a relationship with Gary, and I felt bad for both Gary and Ned. I didn’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have all three of my dads in my life. It crossed my mind that maybe there was something I could do to get the two of them talking, but right now I couldn’t think of what that would be. Besides, we were all having so much fun eating, talking about school, Colts football, and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, that I forgot all about their father-son estrangement.

  Chapter 11

  The next week was hectic for Gary, so crazy in fact that he lost track of the days. He was either in class, in the library, at work or at a rehearsal. Even lunch breaks were sporadic. The cafeteria lines were too long and he couldn’t spare the time, so he’d started hitting the vending machines in the Student Union between destinations. One good thing about this frenetic schedule was that he was too busy to let any ghosts bug him. He’d seen a couple on campus but had ignored them and they’d been polite about it. And since that persistent ghost from last Sunday hadn’t been around, he hoped maybe she’d taken the hint and crossed over.

  But after days of this nonstop activity and hit-or-miss eating, the rumbling in his belly forced him to slow down and seek out a proper midday meal. He got in the queue line at the dorm cafeteria, and while he waited he whipped out his Pride and Prejudice script to read through his lines for this afternoon’s run-through. Opening night was one week away, and even though he had his part pretty well in mind, it never hurt to review. Unlike his ease with all things Shakespeare, Gary still felt uncomfortable with this formal nineteenth century dialog.

  “Hey, buddy, you’re holding up the line.” The cafeteria server impatiently tapped her metal spoon on the serving dish.

  Gary’s head snapped up from his script. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “I’ll take th
e hot meatloaf sandwich. Lots of gravy.”

  He shoved his script in his jacket pocket, took the plate of food from the server, and scooted his tray to the end of the line to swipe his meal card. He scouted the room for an unoccupied table while picking up eating utensils and a bottle of water.

  It was Taco Friday, meaning the cafeteria was packed with Tex-Mex lovers, and Gary didn’t see anyone he knew well enough to crash their table. He was about to give up and ask for a to-go box when he spied Caryn Alderson sitting alone, way too close to the front door and its chilly wind to his liking, but it was a place to sit. Gary just hoped she wasn’t saving the empty seat. He walked over and tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Caryn looked up from her phone. “Uh, okay, I guess so.” Empty dishes of tacos and guacamole were on the table, but she quickly gathered them up and stacked them on the tray in front of her. “Actually, I was done, so…”

  Gary set his food tray down and pulled out the chair across from her, which made an annoying scraping sound on the linoleum. “Got a one o’clock class?”

  Caryn glanced at the time on her phone. “Yes, and I’ve still got tons to do before we go tonight.”

  Gary took a bite of green beans, decided they were too mushy, and shoved them aside with his fork before tucking into his open-face meatloaf sandwich. “Where are you going tonight?” He didn’t even make eye contact. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

  Caryn lifted an eyebrow as she watched him devour his food. “You must have skipped breakfast,” she said. “That mystery meat…”

  Gary held up a hand to stop her while he swallowed his food and chased it with a healthy amount of water. “Yeah, I know, it’s not Mom’s, but any port in a storm.”

  “Your mom’s a good cook?”

  Gary nodded. “Self-taught gourmet. She spent a lot of time watching The Food Channel in the middle of the night when she was trying to do schoolwork with a cranky baby on her lap.”

  Caryn rested her arms on the table and leaned in a little closer. “Do you have sibs?”

  “No. I used to wish I had a little brother, but it’s just Brenda and me. You?”

  “Nope.”

  Gary went back to his food. “Where’s your dad?”

  “In Houston. He’s an actor,” she said, as Gary gave her two thumbs up, or rather one thumb, one fork. “Luckily his partner has a decent job, ’cause when my dad’s not working, he’s a waiter at a country club.” The smile drained from her face. “I miss him. I only get to see him once or twice a year.”

  “At least your father cares about you. My bio dad lives in the same town and I never see him.”

  Was that a sympathetic look Caryn just gave him? Gary couldn’t tell. She stood up, rewrapped her scarf around her neck, and picked up her tray to return to the conveyer belt. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

  Gary set his fork down. “Why would you see me later?”

  Caryn rolled her eyes, and Gary realized the aloof, investigative reporter Caryn was back. He sort of liked Vulnerable Caryn better.

  “Ghost Stalkers?” she said, her voice turning the statement into a question. “At the Pelson farmhouse?”

  Gary slapped his forehead. “That’s tonight? I’ve been so busy this week I completely forgot.” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “I have a rehearsal this afternoon that might run late.”

  “You can’t weasel out now, Gary. There’s something big going down and you have to be there.”

  Gary gave her a puzzled glance. Was that a psychic prediction or just a reminder that the Ghost Stalkers needed him?

  “Text Sean for a ride,” Caryn said over her shoulder before she sailed out of the cafeteria.

  ****

  As I walked across campus, I went over that last remark I made to Gary. The punch-to-the-gut images in my head had barely started before I blurted that out. When I was younger, I was always spouting psychic stuff before thinking it through, but as I’ve gotten older and more comfortable with my abilities, I’ve been able to keep a lid on it better. But telling Gary he was about to be involved in something big tonight felt like the old, immature and insecure Caryn. Why did I do that? Especially since I didn’t know the whole story yet. I shook my head and kept walking.

  Photography wasn’t my favorite class, to say the least, but it was a requirement for the journalism degree, and at least I had Annabeth in there with me. I’d always considered myself a pretty decent artist with paints or charcoal, but my photographs never measured up. Luckily Annabeth was always willing to give me pointers, or better yet, edit my shots so they might actually make a presentable portfolio for the class’s final project.

  “I can’t believe there are only four weeks left before finals,” I said as I dropped my bag on the floor next to the desk where I always sit.

  Annabeth was already in her seat, notebook and pen ready to take notes, and passing the time by flipping through some recent shots on her camera. “Yeah, the semester’s gone fast.” She put her camera aside and readjusted the beret on her head, stuffing a few stray brown hairs back under it. “Are we still picking you up tonight?”

  I took off my faux down jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. “If you don’t mind. Have you heard from Sean?”

  Annabeth shook her head. “Why?”

  I dug my notebook and pen out of my bag. “I sorta had lunch with Gary. He needs a ride, too.”

  “How do you ‘sorta’ have lunch with someone?”

  “Table shortage. He just hijacked the empty chair across from me. It’s a good thing, too, because he’d forgotten about tonight. I had to remind him of his date with a translucent lady in white.”

  Annabeth burst out laughing, loud enough to draw the attention of a few students on the other side of the classroom and the professor who had just walked in. He scowled at her over his glasses as he set his briefcase on the podium.

  “Sorry,” Annabeth told him, stifling the rest of her giggles.

  Once I was sure he wasn’t watching us, I whispered, “The only reason I’m going to this stupid ghost hunt is for the byline Del promised me. And the hope that you’ll catch some unexplained orbs on camera. And maybe find out what’s been psychically bugging me lately.”

  “That’s three reasons.”

  “Yeah, okay. But otherwise I’d spend the evening in our room, catching up on old episodes of ‘Monica the Medium.’”

  Annabeth’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, that girl’s so cool! Wait till you see—”

  The teacher loudly cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen…”

  Voicing my premonitions sent my radar into overdrive. I tried listening to the professor’s lecture, but I couldn’t concentrate. So instead of taking notes on correct lighting, I scribbled notes about my psychic impressions. I sketched out a farmhouse from the picture in my head and from my nightmares, drew a ghost hovering over it, and then shaded in areas to represent the night-vision cameras that the Ghost Stalkers Club would set up. I scrutinized the sketch and couldn’t figure out what was missing. Then it hit me! There’s got to be a basement in that house, and my senses were telling me that was where we’d need to look.

  ****

  Gary hurried into his dorm room after his rehearsal, which did run late. It was seven forty-five and Sean had texted him to be out front of the dorm no later than eight if he still wanted a ride. He took a quick shower and threw on some old jeans and the paint-stained sweatshirt he always wore while working on the sets in the production room. Crawling around a dirty farmhouse was a good enough reason to wear clothes he wouldn’t ruin, and besides, ghosts didn’t care what he wore. But then he thought about how Caryn had turned up her nose at his attire the day they’d bumped into each other on campus, and for some reason that gave him pause. Gary didn’t know if he was prompted by vanity or just the fear of what Brenda might say if she saw him dressed like this in public, but whichever it was, he hurriedly threw off his stained clothes and changed in
to a pair of almost new 501 jeans, a clean flannel shirt, and boots. He decided to forego his baseball cap in favor of a stocking cap to ward off the chilly autumn air, fished gloves out of his coat pockets, zipped up the jean jacket and headed out.

  The elevator stopped on every floor on the way down to the lobby, picking up Friday night revelers. Gary tapped his foot and repeatedly pounded on the lobby button, as if that would make it descend faster. He thought about sending Sean a quick text but by then the elevator was so crowded he couldn’t dig into his pocket for his phone.

  “Yo, tall guy,” a girl in three inch boots said. “Chill. We’ll get there when we get there.”

  Gary turned around and recognized Erica Stone. Great. A girl he still hoped to impress, and here she was observing his display of temper. He only had a minute to undo the bad impression, but he smiled and decided to go for it. “Where ya headed tonight?”

  “Girls night. What about you? Hot date with a ghost?” Erica gave him a very obvious and very rude once-over.

  Gary could feel his cheeks flushing. “Uh…” He was usually quick on his feet with conversation. Heck, he could quote Shakespeare on cue or chat up the dead like old friends, yet this girl left him tongue-tied.

  Erica shook her head and whispered something to the girl next to her, and both of them burst out laughing. “How are you still single?” she asked with a roll of her eyes.

  His heart sank when Erica and her friend marched off the elevator without giving him a backward glance. Gary tried to remain stoic so that no one could see that her last remark stung. She was really the first girl he’d found interesting since enrolling at HLAC, but maybe Tricia Palmer was right. Erica Stone was way out of his league.

  Annabeth’s car was idling in the loading zone, and when Gary walked out through the double glass doors onto the circular drive, he could see Sean sitting shotgun. He opened the back door of her compact sedan and slid in sideways, pulling in his long legs and scrunching them up behind Sean’s seat, which was pushed as far back as it would go.