I shook her hand and politely looked at her; however, I kept myself closed. “Hello, Dr. Lee.”
She pulled a chair over to my bed, and pulled out a pad and pencil before she spoke. “Dr. Yang explained to me that you have a rather unusual head injury.”
I replied, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
She looked at me and asked, “What have your symptoms been since the injury?”
“I’m getting headaches,” I answered.
Dr. Lee cleared her throat and continued, “What else is happening?”
“I’m seeing colors,” I replied.
Dr. Lee was starting to look exasperated. Good. Showing emotion made her appear more human. “Tess, could you please get into more detail with me. I don’t want to have to pull everything out of you.”
I wanted to ignore her, but I finally answered, “The visuals started after I woke up from the injury. The first time I experienced them was when my family came here to visit. My aunt and my cousins had colors surrounding them, particularly around their heads.”
“Does this apply to anyone you see?” She asked.
I should just come right out and tell her. She’s probably wondering if I see colors around her. “Yes, I see colors around anyone that I’ve had contact with since the injury. Just so you know, I see a blue/green colors around you, too,” I asserted. I think I took Dr. Lee by surprise.
‘Tess, there may be more than one possibility, but I can only think of one that makes real sense to me. This is a very unusual case. I can’t remember ever hearing of something like this.” Dr. Lee had her hand on her chin, her eyes on my face. “I hope you don’t mind, but I find this fascinating. I’m aware you must be feeling some distress about this unusual ability you have.”
Talk about clinical! I guess I grabbed her interest, anyway. At least that’s something. At that point, I asked her sarcastically, “If you get a spare moment, perhaps you could explain to me what the heck is happening, and how I can stop it?”
She smiled sheepishly and said, “I’m sorry. I am a doctor, but I’m also a scientist. My specialty is paranormal brain activity. I would say that your abilities fall within that category. It is of great interest to me, but of course, you’re looking for an explanation.” I nodded in agreement.
“I brought my laptop so that I can access my current research,” Dr. Lee commented, as she placed her computer onto my bedside table and turned it on. “It would be helpful to refer to my files for accuracy, or, if you have additional questions.” She continued searching through files on her hard drive. “Here’s the correct section. I knew it was in here, somewhere.” She turned to me and asked, “Are you ready?”
“Yep, I’m all ears,” I replied.
She turned back to her computer. “I believe that you’ve acquired what’s been called ‘The Third Eye’ by some.” She paused for a second before proceeding, going over the material, before telling me, “There’s a gland in your frontal lobe called the pineal gland. It’s about the size of a grain of rice, located near the center of the brain, and tucked in a groove between the two cerebral hemispheres. The pineal gland has been known as ‘the organ of inner vision’. As she said that, she raised her eyebrows, and then continued, “It’s likely that your pineal gland was pierced by the sharp metal pin, which then stimulated the gland in some way. Some people theorize that such stimulation can lead to the enhancement of psychic talents, including the ability of reading auras. Does this make sense to you so far?” she looked over to me with her eyebrows raised.
‘Well, it sounds like this metal pin entered a gland in my head that in turn may have triggered an unusual response. I didn’t get the last part,” I admitted.
“An aura is an energy field that surrounds human beings. The true aura of a person is supposed to reflect what’s inside of the person; who they are as an elemental being. You might say that the aura is supposed to reflect what is truly in their soul. It sifts through a person’s superficial facade of manners, customs, habits and the lies they may tell. Some readers of auras also claim that auras can sometimes detect if a person is experiencing an extreme mood, such as jealousy, or even their current state of health,” Dr. Lee stated.
“What’s an aura again?” I asked.
“Let’s look up the exact meaning. It says, ‘An invisible breath, emanation, or radiation; a distinctive but tangible quality that seems to surround a person’.” She turned to me, “Does that answer your question?”
I asked, puzzled, “I’m seeing all these different colors around people. Are auras supposed to be different colors?”
“Different colors are supposed to signify different qualities. For example, pink might suggest that someone is very loving. A flash of bright red may signify extreme anger. It’s also believed that auras can detect serious health issues affecting major organs.”
I looked at Dr. Lee in astonishment. “Are you saying that when I see someone’s aura colors that I’m seeing the real inside person, not the phony nice act that people put out there, or the ‘look at how tough I am’ act?”
She chuckled, “I forgot that you’re in high school, the time of ultimate posturing. Adults of course, wear a veneer of respectability, whereas adolescence is a time of mutual peer rebellion and detachment from figures of authority.”
I looked at her like she was crazy, “What the heck are you talking about?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I am getting off track. You are very mature for your age. I was using psychology jargon.” Dr. Lee actually looked chagrined.
“I can’t stand that kind of talk,” I remarked. “Anyway, I have another question. You mentioned that some people can read auras? I presume they didn’t have an accident like I did. How can THEY then read auras?”
Dr. Lee looked over her material and then answered, “Actually, there are old writings that indicate your accident was not the only one to have activated auric reading. Those writings are not documented, so we don’t know if they’re very truthful. However, it is believed that some people are born with the ability to read auras. There are others, still, who claim to have trained themselves to read auras through practice and meditation. I don’t know if that’s true or not.”
“What about some of the colors I see? For example, I see a clear blue/green around you. What does that mean?” I asked.
Dr. Lee referred to her research and replied, “The colors mean all different things. Clear green is frequently associated with healers. Seeing that you’re in a hospital, you’ve probably seen a few people in here with a green aura. Bright blue is associated with someone who’s down to earth, calm and purposeful. Dark or muddy colors usually indicate something undesirable, such as an immature ego, a negative emotion, or the presence of a serious ailment.”
“How can I find out about other aura colors that I see?” I inquired.
“If you’d like, I can make a copy of this article for you. There are also some good books on the subject which I could recommend. They’re based on research. Don’t read just any old thing on the internet. Some of the material out there on psychic ability is very speculative. Be aware that any information on psychic phenomenon, in general, will not be precise. It is an inexact science.” She turned to me and remarked, “Does this information ease your mind at all?”
I glared at her, “Are you serious? Do you know how this could impact me? How can I shut the darn thing off? That’s what I need to know. Can you imagine going around and seeing people as they really are, all the time, especially the bad stuff? I have to say that I’m really good at reading people by looking in their eyes. I make a point not to see into people because I don’t want to know what’s really going on with them. I worry about people, even strangers. It would be such a heavy load to carry around all the time. I couldn’t stand it.”
Dr. Lee smiled at me with sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Tess. I know I’ve gotten a little carried away with all of this. I have to remind myself that we’re talking about your life. You just made a very
eloquent case for learning how to shut it off, at least periodically. Before we go onto that, I would like to comment on something you said about being able to read people by looking into their eyes. Special abilities such as that are commonly linked to other special gifts; one leads to another. In other words, you may have been susceptible to acquiring the ability to read auras because you already have a special talent. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there.
“Let’s get to your big concern, which is how to shut it off. I’m afraid I’ll have to use an educated guess for that. Unfortunately, turning it off isn’t usually the problem. Most research involves how to enhance reading auras, not stopping it. You’ll probably have to train yourself to turn it off through trial and error. I suggest that when you see someone and their aura starts to appear, immediately think about something that will grab your thoughts, such as your favorite book, or something you want to do later in the day. Do not look in the person’s eyes or think about them. Switch your mind to something else. When the aura appears, don’t look at it; try to completely ignore it. This will be a gradual process. Once your mind understands how to slow it down, you can then use the same technique to block it. Once you learn to block it, you may be able to see the aura or stop it at will.”
I was trying to absorb everything she’d told me. I’ve noticed that since talking with Dr. Lee, her aura has disappeared. Now that I’m thinking about it and watching her, it’s flowing back around her. Perhaps her suggestions will work. Well, it’s all I’ve got for now. “Thanks for your help, Dr. Lee. I’ll try using your suggestions.”
“By the way, Tessie, I have a good friend who’s a psychiatrist at Yale New Haven Hospital, in Connecticut. I did my psychiatric residency with him. If it’s all right with you, I’ll contact him and tell him all about your case. Then, if you need some future assistance when you get to Connecticut, someone familiar with your situation will be available for you to see. Take my card and call me, or send me an email and I can set things up. His name is Dr. Harris.” She handed me her professional business card.
Dr. Lee started to close up her computer when her eyes lit up. “Tess, there is one more bit of information about auras that I wanted to tell you, but I had forgotten. It is quite interesting. Would you like to hear it?”
It looks like she’s about to salivate. I guess I’ll let her tell me. “OK, go ahead.”
“Well, I don’t know if it is true or not, but it’s certainly an intriguing piece of research. I’ve studied paranormal activity as it relates to the different major religions of the world. There are some Eastern religions that believe in auras; however, they view them from a different perspective. They believe that people live many lives for the purpose of spiritual evolution. We’ve been discussing how the color of a person’s aura is a reflection of their one and only present life. These Eastern religions believe that the clarity, brightness and color of an aura reveal the age and the evolutionary progression of a person’s soul over their many lives.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Over their many lives? They believe that people live many lives? Now THAT sounds crazy!”
9. Arrival
The next day I was released from the hospital. We stayed overnight at a hotel near the train station and then boarded the train the next morning. I think Aunt Amy was concerned about how I would feel, being on the train again, but I was OK. I was already worried about how much this stop had cost her, between the hotel and the hospital. I didn’t want to add to her worries by asking her to pay for bus or plane tickets in order to get to Connecticut.
I was more concerned about seeing auras all over the place once I was out of the hospital. I knew that would’ve driven me crazy, so I donned a pair of dark sunglasses when I left the place. The glasses definitely helped. I was also trying some of the techniques that Dr. Lee had mentioned, such as ignoring the auras and focusing on other things. That seemed to be working, too, at least some of the time. I was also super tired so I ended up sleeping much of the time we were on the train. It seemed to take forever to get to our destination, but finally we arrived.
We got to Hartford and took a taxi to my grandmother’s house in Woodley. My cousins and I have never been in this part of the country before. The highways and office buildings don’t look that different from Colorado, but the houses and the landscape are very different. There are beautiful large trees and old homes everywhere. We don’t have these kinds of historical buildings where we lived. There’s also something about this area that seems familiar to me. I can’t exactly put my finger on it. “Aunt Amy, are you sure I’ve never been to Grandma Edwina’s house before?” Even as I was asking her, I knew it wasn’t possible.
“No, you’ve never been here,” she answered. “I haven’t even been here myself since I married Frank. He didn’t get along with Grandma Edwina, so I stayed away to keep peace in the family. It’s been over 13 years since I’ve been back.”
I realized that I was still feeling this sense of familiarity with the general layout of Woodley and a few of the old homes. I also knew that there was an old Congregational church next to a bridge on the way to Grandmas. Why would I know that? I wouldn’t say anything to my cousins or my aunt because they think I’m strange as it is. Maybe I’ve seen pictures of the town while looking at photos of Grandma Edwina’s house. That doesn’t sound right, but nothing else made sense.
As we were riding down the road Grandma lived on, my uneasiness grew. This was creepy. There was an old red house that I felt like I had been in before. I remembered a large fireplace with a cast iron pot hanging over it. I must’ve seen something like that in a picture book.
My Grandma Edwina turned out to be a bit of an eccentric. She lived in a large, old colonial house with a big red barn that had two hex signs on it. The taxi pulled around to the back, so we went in through the back porch that ran along the back of the house. I immediately loved the porch. It was screened in, and had a wooden glider and a strung up hammock. Grandma met us at the door, wearing an old straw hat, worn jeans and a big old sweater. She was very tan, but you knew that she was definitely not one to sit around in a lounge chair sunbathing. She must’ve spent a lot of her free time working outside. I noticed one of those old push mowers sitting in the back yard. Do people still use those things?
Her hair was in a braid that was tied up in a knot at the back of her head, and her eyes were a startling blue against her tan skin. Her eyes matched her bright blue aura. It was very striking. I had a hard time blocking it out for a while. Words come to mind when I contemplated what her blue aura means: ‘true blue’, purposeful, quiet, calm, good judgment. I wasn’t really sure what aura colors meant, but I believed I was developing a sense for it.
She stood there for a minute and studied each one of us. I had the feeling that she saw us for the refugees that we were, evacuated from our own family war zone. She finally nodded, quietly said her hellos, and hugged each of us in turn. I got the sense that she was glad to see us; she just wasn’t one to waste words. My Grandfather Myron had died around 12 years ago, so she was used to being alone. She wasn’t in the habit of talking.
Grandma Edwina finally turned to my aunt, “Sorry to tell you, but I didn’t feel too badly about Frank; never liked the man.”
My aunt responded, “I know how Frank was. Some things are just better left unsaid.”
Walking through Edwina’s house was like entering another century. Never mind that Grandma didn’t own a computer. She didn’t even own a TV set! She said she had a television once, but she didn’t like the noise it made, so she got rid of it. Said it was “an utter waste of time”. Grandma’s only concessions to communication with the outside world were one old dial telephone and a small radio.
Other than the porch, the best room in her house was the library. The high shelves were filled to the ceiling with old books. It had this cozy little sitting area with a cushioned window seat overlooking the garden in the back yard.
Her house was very quiet. Silence is rather for
eign to me and I’m usually not too comfortable around it. Being a teenager, I’m addicted to the mindlessness of lots of noise, media noise, talk noise, any old noise. After all, you don’t have to think about things when there’s lots of noise going on. In Grandma’s house, other than our occasional comments, all you could hear were her clocks, tick tock, tick tock, and on the hour, ding, ding, ding. Imagine hearing clocks tick! Somehow, hearing the tiny sounds of clocks tick tock and the hourly ding, ding made me feel serene. Surprisingly, I wasn’t missing all that mental clutter.
Grandma’s father died when she was a little girl. Her mother, Theresa (my namesake) decided to turn this place into a rooming house at that time as a source of income for her and her children. For that reason, there were plenty of fully furnished bedrooms. Granted, they were a little outdated: creaky high beds, wide oak floors and furniture made of real wood. What made them old fashioned was what made them charming. There were quilts on the beds, flowery wallpaper and doilies everywhere. It looked like there was only one electric plug per room. That’ll be interesting. We’ll all share one of those old fashioned bathrooms with a pedestal sink and a giant claw bathtub. Grandma did mention that she had a shower put in downstairs in the basement. That’s a relief!
Each of us got to pick our own bedroom which was pretty neat. I managed to get what I call the Jane Austin room with purple/blue flowered wallpaper, an ornate side table with an oval mirror and an antique rocking chair. Eve got the room with the high canopy bed (and a stool to get up on the bed!) and real lace curtains. Annie got Auntie’s old bedroom with an antique spindle rope bed and one of those big old wooden radios. My aunt chose a small room downstairs that used to be Grandpa’s study so she could be near Grandma. We unpacked and settled in quickly, as there wasn’t much time to prepare ourselves. Real life was coming up on us fast. We were starting Woodley High School tomorrow morning.
A Girl Between Page 4
