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Kathy paced slowly back and forth before the small gathering. She was wearing stone-washed jeans and a white cashmere sweater. But despite the casual clothes, Jennifer noted, she was perfectly turned out with pearl earrings and makeup. Her long, glossy black hair was loose and tossed over her shoulder.

“Channeling, to give a definition developed by Jon Klimo in his wonderful book, is that ‘process of receiving information from some level of reality other than the ordinary physical one. And this includes messages from any mental source that falls outside of one’s own.’”

She paused and grinned down at the group. “Got it?” she asked with a laugh.

Jennifer found herself smiling. She had promised herself that she would be skeptical of everything she heard and saw. But she had to admit that Kathy’s warmth and humor made her sound especially convincing.

“But who are the channelers of today?” Kathy went on. “And where are our oracles? Do you think I fit the mold?” She was laughing again.

“Actually, I think I’m a channeler because I’m such a lazy person. It’s true, really. My spiritual guides say that lazy people make the best mediums because they don’t have an agenda. They’re not trying to hit home runs for God.” She paced across the hearth and then nodded to one of the guests who had raised a hand.

“But, Kathy,” the woman asked, “how did you know that you could channel? How does it actually happen?”

“It really began before I first saw Habasha, but I didn’t understand what I was experiencing. I think I was always a channel. For example, I’ve never been afraid of ghosts or graveyards or horror movies. When I was a child, I wanted to have a ghost as a friend. Even back then, I began to have a sense that I could talk to the dead, and I was drawn to certain people because they seemed somehow to be connected to me.”

“I began with automatic writing, which, by the way, is nothing more than doodling. I’d hold a pencil in my hand, usually during a boring college class, and without warning my hand would start moving.”

“And I used the Ouija board, even though my priest denounced it as the devil’s tool. And in a way he was right to warn people. Ouija boards are not toys. They have great power.”

“Once you enter the world of the spiritual, you must tread carefully. I know this sounds a little medieval, but one has to use caution.”

“Are all channels alike?” someone asked.

“No, they’re not. Think of musical instruments. You can’t play keyboard music on a flute, which plays only one note at a time. But you can play Bach on the flute; you can play Bach on the pipe organ. It’s just that it sounds different on each instrument.”

“Different mediums are like different instruments. Each one has an inherent limitation, but also a unique quality. The sound of a pipe organ, for example, is different than the sound of a piano or a harpsichord. Not better or worse, but different. It’s like that with channels. Not all spirits can communicate or even want to communicate through all channels.”

“Besides, not all mediums are verbal. Some channels have healing energy. Some sing. Some dance. Isadora Duncan, I believe, was a great channeler.”

Jennifer glanced across the room and saw another raised hand. “What about these spirits that I hear talked about?” the woman asked. “Are they around us now? Do we need to worry about them or what?” She laughed nervously.

“No, you don’t have to worry,” Kathy reassured her. “They are very much like the rest of us. Some are between incarnations. Others will be spirits forever. They may be positive or negative. But they are all angelic forces. Manifestations of higher consciousness.”

“And, of course, we have their polar opposites, the demonic forces—spirits consumed by unevolved energy that pulls everyone down. The Greeks summed it up when they talked about the harpies and the sirens. The sirens are the seductors who lure you into actions that are not in your best interest. The harpies shriek guilt and self-hatred into your ear. Both are very real.”

“Are these spirits our personal angels?” someone asked.

“No, they’re universal. No one owns a spirit. But spirits do befriend and work with certain people, and some of them may represent our spiritual brothers and sisters, or perhaps even higher aspects of ourselves.”

“What about all this out-of-body stuff I keep reading about?” another guest asked.

“Very simple. You leave your body and go somewhere else. Where, precisely, we don’t know. Remember that the mind is not a physical entity. When we lose consciousness, it is because our mind, or consciousness, is somewhere else.”

“But where exactly?” Jennifer heard herself ask.

“We don’t know, Jennifer,” Kathy said, softening her voice. “The Russians have been studying this phenomenon. I guess they’d like to spy on us by sending people out of their bodies, to go through walls.”

“But let’s look at it from another angle,” she went on.

“Let’s talk about dreams. Basically, dreams are out-of-body experiences. If you didn’t sleep at night, you’d go crazy! The stress of being ‘in body’ is too great to maintain.”

“And reincarnation?” a woman asked. Jennifer found herself nodding. Yes, what about it? she thought.

“Well, technically speaking, you’re either in the body— ‘in carnca—or out of the body—’discarna.’ Carna is, literally, the flesh. And death is the ultimate out-of-body experience. But, in fact, we leave our bodies all the time! Sometimes a person’s mind is half in one place, half in another. The truth is, it can be in both locations at the same time. You see, the mind is not physical, and so doesn’t need to follow the physical limitations of the body. When we talk about being out of body, we’re talking about energy that travels.”

“So the idea is this: the mind goes out of the body. The body dies, but the mind continues to exist. !t is free to form a new relationship with physical matter. A relationship that is not necessarily confined to human form.”

As Jennifer sat listening to Kathy Dart, she suddenly felt a curious spasm and saw a clear image of Phoebe Fisher, sitting by the fireplace in her apartment in New York. Phoebe was speaking to her, but Jennifer couldn’t hear the words: she saw only that Phoebe was frowning, beckoning her away from the living room of Kathy Dart, telling Jennifer to flee. Jennifer raised her hand to reach for Phoebe’s image, and then she felt the warmth of a soft palm, and she looked up to see Kathy Dart lean forward and smile down at her.

“Dinner, Jenny?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry. Were you trance-channeling?” Kathy teased, smiling.

“I don’t know what I was doing,” Jennifer admitted, chagrined by her behavior, and by what she thought she had just seen: Phoebe Fisher sitting next to Kathy and warning Jennifer to get away from her.

“Jennifer, I know you have been approached by Simon. I know you two were once lovers.”

Jennifer glanced to the channeler, waved her hand and said, “It was a simple misunderstanding.”

“It’s all right, Jenny. Please, you’re getting yourself upset. Of course you are attracted to Simon. He must have told you that we were all once together in a previous life. The physical attraction we have for each other is extremely powerful.” Kathy flashed one of her bright, wide smiles and linked her arm into Jennifer’s. “And if you two decide you want to make love, please follow your instincts. I don’t own him, Jennifer. We’re all free to act on our impulses and desires, especially here at the farm. I can’t keep you two apart. I wouldn’t if I could.”