"That's great, Mom! I'm so happy for you!" This time Justine drew in her mother for a warm hug. She struggled to chase away her stray thoughts and force out the negative ones. Why had her father decided to visit her today when her mother seemed to be doing so much better? Justine knew she needed to keep a much closer eye on her mother.
Chapter Nine
Justine finally made the trip to the library that she had been putting off. She browsed the shelves in the paranormal section, which she noticed slowly blending into the Occult/New Age section. A thick book with a bright purple binding seemed to jump out at her, "The Wisdom of Witches." Glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one noticed, she gingerly pulled the book down off the shelf and felt an instant rush of instinct flood her like an explosive beacon. She decided that it was finally time to come to terms with her “gift” and figure out exactly what it was.
Nervously she checked out the book, noticing the elderly librarian barely able to contain her sarcastic chuckle. Red-cheeked with anger and embarrassment, Justine quickly left the library and headed home. Sitting down with a glass of iced tea and the book that seemed ridiculous to possess, yet fascinating to read, she began.
She flipped idly through the pages, stopping to read a paragraph or two until the word “empath” instantly struck her, nearly jumping out at her. An empathic person was defined as those that are not psychic in the traditional sense such as future telling, but have a very honed in instinct for feeling others’ moods (even sometimes their thoughts), and being able to quite clearly observe the dead. The empath, it said, was a natural portal between the different planes of existence. It went on even further to explain that there are ways how one could strengthen or lessen this ability when necessary.
Justine bit on her bottom lip and considered, "Would I want to strengthen it?"
As if another worldly voice entered her mind, she heard, "Yes."
One simple positive word of affirmation that shook her to her soul. Justine's hand trembled as she carefully closed the book. She placed it on her coffee table and pointedly ignored it as she pulled out her vacuum and decided that her house needed a good cleaning.
The day wore on swiftly while Justine dusted and mopped, singing along to a classic rock radio station that reminded her of her youth. The house gleamed when she finally sat down on her couch, taking in a deep, relaxing breath.
There was a sharp, insistent knock on her door, which quickly brought Justine back down to earth. She stood up and ran her fingers through her hair, knowing that she must look a bit ruffled after all her cleaning, and thinking that it may be Patrick. With a bright smile, she opened the door to see Sheryl, her closest friend and confidante for many years.
"Long time no see, stranger." Sheryl walked in past Justine. "What's up?"
Justine immediately appreciated the unexpected company. "Not much! I'm glad you came by." Sheryl walked over to the sofa and tiredly dropped onto it.
"Where is Toby?" Justine inquired about Sheryl’s two year old son.
"Oh, it's his father's weekend with him. I was lonely without him, so I figured I'd stop by and see you for a bit."
"I'm glad you did." Justine sat down next to Sheryl and immediately noticed where Sheryl's eyes were positioned. Before Justine could stop her, Sheryl reached forward and picked up the book.
"Wow, Justine, Justine. What is this that you're reading?" There was a cute quirk of a smile on Sheryl's face as she chided teasingly.
Justine nervously folded her hands together in her lap, "Oh, it's just something I picked up from the library."
"I see." Sheryl looked directly at Justine in a way only she could and she it had down pat.
"First ghosts, now witchery, my, my, what would your mother think?" Unable to contain it any longer, Sheryl let out a pleasant, spiraling laugh.
"She wouldn't, because she's not going to know." The earnest look in Justine's eyes told Sheryl she meant it on no uncertain terms. Before either woman could say another word, there was a loud knock on the front door.
"Goodness, the world has discovered me," Justine giggled as she crossed over to the door. There stood Patrick, with a box of pizza, a 12 pack of beer, and a beautiful bouquet of red and white mixed daisies and tulips. His smile was shy, but was accompanied with the same crooked grin that turned Justine to butter.
"Hi," was all his voice said, but his eyes told of endless sensual tales.
"Patrick, come in." He shyly handed her the flowers but stopped walking towards the kitchen, pizza in hand, when he noticed Sheryl sitting on the couch.
"The flowers are beautiful, thank you, I love them." Justine stood on her tip toes to reach up and kiss him.
Sheryl's pale blue eyes glanced at him shyly, but certainly impressed. She stood up quickly gathering her purse.
"Well, I should be going."
"No, don't leave on my account,” Patrick insisted. “There's enough pizza for us all!"
Justine stepped in between the two of them.
"Sheryl, this is Patrick…" Her voice died out quickly when she realized she didn't know how to introduce her new lover to her friend. "And Patrick, this is Sheryl," she said without further explanation.
"Hey, if I'm interrupting anything, I can just leave the pizza to you guys and take off." His eyes were questioning.
"No, actually I would like for you to get to know Sheryl," Justine replied with a smile.
"Okay."
Patrick took a seat in the recliner, and quietly looked around the room. His eyes glanced at the book lying on the coffee table. He looked at Sheryl curiously.
"It's not mine," she giggled and placed her hands spread out wide.
"I picked it up from the library today. I figured it might help me understand myself a little better." Justine's voice was quiet, but determined.
"Makes sense," was all Patrick said before getting back up. "Anyone hungry?"
He casually sauntered into the kitchen and made himself at home, pulling down three plates.
Justine and Sheryl followed him into the kitchen and each selected some pizza and a bottle of beer. When they were all settled back in the living between bites of pizza, Patrick asked,
"Have you told Sheryl about your experience at the house in Riverside?"
Justine put down her piece of pizza thoughtfully.
"No, actually I haven't. She arrived only about five minutes before you did." Patrick now looked at Sheryl guiltily.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I should go and let you two catch up."
"No, please, I don't mind," Sheryl said in her typical easy-going way.
"So tell me about it."
"About what?" Justine asked, feeling put on the spot.
"The haunted house in Riverside.” Sheryl vibrated her voice and shook her fingers in spooky fashion.
"Oh yeah, that." So Justine went on to explain how she'd been the core for the investigation while Sheryl listened intently in wide eyed amazement.
"Oh, my god! Weren't you scared?" She asked when Justine finished telling the story.
"Hell yeah I was, I thought I might have a heart attack!" She paused as if considering. "But it was actually pretty cool, too," she added.
Patrick reached down for the library book and eased back into the recliner.
"So about the book. You know you could have just asked me a few things." The smile danced in his eyes as he stared at Sheryl who was smiling back as if the two of them were sharing a private joke.
"Yeah, I know. But well, I felt sort of stupid. I was just curious, really." Justine glanced down at her hands. "I think I'm an Empath. I fit all of the qualities of one."
Patrick's laughter sung out loudly throughout the room.
"Well, of course, Justine, I could have told you that, actually I thought you knew. It's good to get a few books on it though, that way you can read a few others and come to your own opinions."
Patrick riffled through the book, while Sheryl took the opportunity to give Justine, the 'he's gorgeous' signal. Ju
stine blushed and mouthed back, "hush!" Their giggle brought Patrick's attention back to them and he set the book back down.
"This is a good book, very accurate from what I glanced over. Some of them are bogus, though, don't believe everything you read."
"Well, it's getting late, I need to get home and get a few things done." Patrick stood up and looked at Justine, his desire for her clearly shining in his eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow, babe." He leaned in to give her a gentle kiss. Sheryl, mean while, busied herself with the unheard excuse to use the bathroom knowing that Patrick wanted to give her friend a far more passionate kiss without having to worry about an audience. When she reentered the living room a few minutes later, Patrick was gone and Justine was flushed and all smiles.
"I am so jealous! Looks, manners, flowers! It's not fair." Sheryl pretended to pout when she was actually very happy for her friend. Justine had carefully avoided any serious relationships throughout college, insisting that she wanted to dedicate herself entirely to her education.
"There are more out there like him, Sheryl."
"I know, but the second they know you have a child, they usually head for the hills." She sat back and sighed, suddenly depressed.
"It'll happen someday, Sheryl."
"I know, but he has to be right for both me and Toby. Let's have another beer."
The two of them finally had the opportunity to catch up over a couple of beers as always enjoying one another's company. Justine pulled out her violin and played a few frisky tunes before putting it away and turning on her favorite radio station.
Later in the night, Sheryl opted to stay on Justine's couch instead of going home, very honestly admitting that she was too intoxicated to drive. As Justine readied herself for bed, she felt a pang of guilt. Another night of drinking.
Chapter Ten
The next morning when Justine woke up she was freshly showered and softly singing as she took the stairs in quick steps to the first floor and into the living room. She noticed with a bit of sadness that Sheryl had already gone to start her day. While walking through the living room she was instantly drawn to the book which lay open and face down on the table. She walked over to it and read the heading of the chapter, "How to Shield Yourself." She sat down and began to read, surprised to see that the book explained how to “shut off” your sight when it becomes overwhelming or even potentially harmful. Knowing that she wouldn’t leave a book open and face down like that, Justine assumed Sheryl had found that section for her and simply hadn’t closed the book after noticing what page it had been on so that Justine would read it. Justine marked the spot in the book with a book marker deciding she would have more time to read it later.
At work, the briefing room bubbled with eager voices and quick laughter when Conroy cleared his throat--instantly snapping everyone's attention on him. Justine had to smile, thinking to herself that even to adults, the idea of a “field trip” was very exciting. In less than a half an hour the entire team was due to arrive at Jacksonville International Airport where they would fly up to Virginia. Not only was Spectrum being given the honorable distinction of investigating the highly regarded and paranormally coveted fields of Yorktown, but the team would also be meeting up with fellow parapsychologists from all over the United States.
"Okay, team, I know that we're all excited. Even I can't wait to get boarded on that plane. But first I need everyone to take a copy of our itinerary, make sure you have the correct tickets, rental car
information, and hotel bookings. Also, as promised," Conroy, paused taking a deep breath, "Each of you is to receive a one time credit card with a $500.00 food allowance limit. Please use it wisely. The only money that this trip should require of you is for
entertainment and souvenir fees.
While I want you all to have a good time after the investigation and the convention, I do expect you to remain professional until we have wrapped things up. You are then to report back to work next Monday."
Everyone smiled as they talked simultaneously. Spectrum was being given two days to investigate Yorktown, two days to attend the convention, and three days to do some sightseeing on their own before they would board the plane heading home on Sunday afternoon.
Conroy opened his mouth as if to speak again, but then smiled and waved it off as unimportant.
"Let's go."
The team didn't have to hear the command twice as they hurried along with their luggage, while talking like excited school children setting off on their field trip.
Patrick had pretty much begged to change seats with Claudia who had originally been seated next to Justine. Claudia couldn't help but laugh and eagerly give in when she saw the love struck earnestness in the young man's eyes.
Once everyone was seated and the plane started down the runway, Justine pulled out her “magickal purple book”, as she referred to it. She quickly turned to the page that she had book marked earlier and in a quiet, private voice asked Patrick, "Is this true?" while pointing to the section on how to shield yourself.
Patrick chuckled intimately, his voice instantly warming her, yet at the same time making her feel foolish. When his giggle turned into an outright laugh, Justine stared daggers at him.
"Are you through yet?"
Her face blushed furiously as she glanced around the crowded 737, hoping that his obnoxious laughter wasn't gathering anyone's attention. Patrick's eyes welled up with tears as he tried valiantly to control his laughter. He giggled into his hand until he could finally steady his voice.
"Yes, Justine, of course you can shield yourself." Her cheeks flamed at his direct answer.
"What’s so funny about it?" she hissed under her breath.
Barely fending off a fresh wave of laughter, Patrick replied, "It's just seeing you with this book again. I've told you that you can come to me with these questions."
"Well, I just have, and you're laughing at me, moronically, I might add." Her eyes reflected her hurt and anger, instantly sobering Patrick up.
"You're right, I'm sorry." He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself as her eyes finally softened, a little.
"Justine, I'd like to teach you some of these techniques, they would be good for you." Staring hard to detect any humor or smugness, and finally satisfied, Justine sat back and loudly snapped the book shut.
"Fine."
The rest of the flight was spent quietly, until they neared Norfolk International Airport. The team, who was otherwise spread out on the plane, was eager to land and begin what would most likely be one of their most significant investigations.
Once they exited the plane, the team and Conroy loaded into a large cargo van from the rental company. It was a 45 minute drive to Yorktown where the team was expected to immediately begin their investigation. Although Spectrum had been given permission to investigate Yorktown, they were only allowed to use portable equipment. It was Conroy's hope (as he had stated earlier,) that even without all of the larger processing equipment, the enormous energy they expected to find in Yorktown would easily be captured on cameras, with their EVP recorders, and temperature readings.
The drive through Williamsburg was rich with charm and history, effortlessly promoting a sense of patriotic pride. Tall oaks reached up endlessly into the sky, and the grass was so green and plush it made one want to run out and play in it. The neighborhood streets bore large, Colonial homes that carried a timeless elegance that was both beautiful and wealthy. Conroy even made sure to drive near Jamestown, as the team eagerly glanced out of the windows to stare at the small, historical settlement.
Justine had been to Williamsburg twice before on family vacations to visit her father's sister, Aunt Dawn, who resided in Virginia Beach, an hour’s trip away. She couldn't help but be just as amazed seeing it now as she had the first two times.
Yorktown still appeared much like it probably had in 1781 when the most significant battle of the American Revolution had been won by George Washington, when emerging into the United States of America.
Yorktown is now part of the National Park Services, and has been very distinctly preserved. Only one additional dwelling has been added to the original structures, which included the impressive York Hall. The Watermen’s Museum stood proudly on Water Street, where Conroy parked the van. Watermen’s focuses on how the Chesapeake Bay watermen contributed to history through their crafts and methods of trade.
The team quickly unloaded the van. The sky was a pale gray that somehow seemed appropriate for the occasion and circumstances.
Justine stood on the soft grass and felt the cool breeze coming in from the east, what promised to be a wild summer storm. She braced herself when the air around her seemed to change, not ominously but to sudden, unexpected sorrow--a sorrow so deep and yearning that it left her breathless. So many lives had been taken to form the country that Americans enjoyed today. It seemed that if one looked hard enough, they could still see bloody, broken bodies lying on the field of battle, gasping for their last breaths.
Pushing back her shoulders, Justine bucked herself up and unconsciously shielded herself in the same way that the book had instructed her by mentally closing her third eye, and providing a shield against her senses. If not for being able to at least partially turn off the intense emotions, she feared she would simply faint, embarrassing both herself and the team. She turned and looked up into Patrick's eyes and found herself surprised to realize that he was experiencing the same intense emotions. Her hand tingled to reach over and hold his in a childlike need, but she forced herself to stand firm and let herself flow cautiously with the prevalent energy.
Conroy watched his team quietly, seemingly more interested in their reactions than in Yorktown itself. He zoned in on Justine and knew that the day he had hired her, he had met his lucky star. Justine had a gift above any he'd ever seen before. It was something that would be difficult for her to bear but he would make sure she made it through one way or the other. After all, she was just like him, and eventually Spectrum would need a young, crucial leader to take his place.
Conroy stared at her nostalgically, so envious in one moment, so proud in the next. There was fear in her eyes that could not be denied, but there was a strength to her that appeared almost too solid for a woman of her age and stature. There was Spectrum’s future.
Journey of Souls (The Mortality Series) Page 8
