“But, Eileen, you weren’t! You were the smartest person in our class. Brighter than Mark Simon, even! And you were captain of the basketball team.”
Eileen started to laugh, “Jennifer, I can’t believe you still remember all that stuff.”
“I was jealous of you, that’s why.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. You were going out with Andy Porterfield, and everyone on Long Island wanted to marry him.”
“Well, thank God I didn’t. He’s on his second wife, I’m told.”
“His third. We see him all the time at the club. But what I’m trying to say is that in high school you were having a good time. I wasn’t, and the only reason I even played basketball was because Mr. Donaldson put me on the team after I tried to commit suicide.”
“Suicide?” Jennifer whispered, remembering now the long-ago rumors about Eileen.
“I’m sorry. Of course, you didn’t know.” She reached over and touched Jennifer’s arm. “I was jealous of you, Jennifer. You were the great social one. You had all the friends. My teenage years were a tormented time in my life, and Kathy Dart, or really, Habasha, has explained to me why I was so unhappy, why my body was out of sync with my spirit life. So I went to her. There was a conference like this being held in San Francisco, and I flew out for it.”
“Flew all the way to California just to see her?”
Eileen nodded. “I had to know,” she said thoughtfully, pausing and looking off across the room.
Jennifer stopped eating and watched Eileen. How rested the woman looked, how satisfied, as if all her responsibilities had been lifted off her shoulders.
“I’ve never been a religious person. I mean, I was raised a Unitarian, which isn’t much of a religion, but when Kathy began to speak as Habasha…”
“He’s not Kathy Dart.”
Eileen nodded. “They are connected, as Kathy said. He was once her warrior lover. And they were pirates together. Kathy also told me that she once had his child in another lifetime. They are soul mates, from the same oversoul. And he speaks through her.”
“So he doesn’t sleep with her; he uses her body, instead.”
“Okay, be a smart ass,” Eileen replied with an indulgent smile. “If you’d only give Habasha a chance, you’d see.”
“See what?”
“See that he can help you,” Eileen said softly, not looking up from her plate.
“I didn’t realize I needed help,” Jennifer answered, annoyed.
“We all need help, Jennifer,” Eileen replied without raising her voice. “And I think if you gave Kathy Dart and Habasha a chance, they might explain to you why you two had such a strong attraction to each other at the session this afternoon.”
“What are you talking about? What do you mean?” Jennifer sat back and stared at Eileen.
“Kathy Dart asked about you,” she explained.
“Yes? What do you mean, asked about me?” Her voice rose and she felt her hands begin to tremble.
“She spoke to me after this afternoon’s session. She said she had a profound reaction from seeing you.” Eileen was watching Jennifer as she spoke.
Jennifer nodded.
“What did it mean?” she asked.
“Kathy asked me to tell you that she senses that she knows you, from a past life, of course, and that she thinks you should speak directly to Habasha.”
“Don’t be silly,” Jennifer answered at once.
“Kathy said to tell you that you are capable of a great deal in this life, and to tell you also that you are involved in a romantic situation that is not spiritually good for you.”
“What!” Jennifer was outraged, and also frightened of what Eileen might know.
Eileen shook her head. “I’m only telling you what Kathy said. She wanted me to invite you specially to her session this evening.” Eileen paused. “And she said to tell you that Danny is fine. That he has another life now, a happy life, and that he didn’t suffer.”
Jennifer threw down her napkin. She couldn’t eat. “I don’t want to hear any more of this silliness. I’m not interested in your seances and spirit entities.” She was furious at Eileen for mentioning her dead brother. They had been in junior high school when Danny was killed in Vietnam.
Her sudden rage made her dizzy. She tried to find the waitress to pay the check but couldn’t. As she glanced around the room, a glowing ball of brilliant light caught her eye. It was outside the windows; she leaned closer to the cold glass and squinted into the darkness.
Someone—something—was walking round the swimming pool. It was a man—a small, short-limbed man, moving clumsily, like a Cro-Magnon.
“Look!” Jennifer blurted out. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Eileen asked.
Jennifer looked back and nothing was there. The light must have been playing tricks on her.
Jennifer stood, dropping her napkin into her chair. “Excuse me, I can’t take any more of this metaphysical crap.” She glanced back out the window. The glowing light was gone from the terrace.
“Don’t be afraid,” Eileen said softly. “It will all work out. Kathy said it would.” She smiled up at Jennifer, looking conspiratorial.
“I’m not afraid,” Jennifer answered back. She opened her purse and withdrew a twenty-dollar bill. “The waitress can keep the change,” she said, throwing it down.
“Jennifer, you’re getting yourself upset over nothing. I’m sorry I frightened you.”
“You haven’t upset me, Eileen. I’m just sorry you’ve gotten yourself all tied up with these people. I always thought you were too smart for such… bullshit.” She spun about and strode from the restaurant.
She walked through the lobby and stopped at the desk for her messages. Tom would have called, she knew, to let her know when he would be back at the hotel.
“‘Having drinks after dinner with Yale buddies. Back late. T.,’” the clerk read, then looked up at Jennifer. “Would you like a copy?”
“No. No thank you,” Jennifer told him, and turning away from the counter, she went up to her hotel room alone.
CHAPTER FOUR
JENNIFER LIFTED THE New York Times off the mat and stepped back inside her apartment. It was Saturday morning, the day after she returned from Washington. Closing the door, she flipped the paper open to the second section and scanned the page as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen. It was not yet eight o’clock, and the building was silent. Tom was still asleep. She had just spread the newspaper on the kitchen counter when she spotted a headline:
Jennifer stopped to read the first couple of paragraphs.
Channeling, a metaphysical quest for truth and wisdom that sprang to life in California, has found its way east. Ms. Phoebe Fisher, who holds a doctorate from the Metaphysics University of San Jose, is currently dispensing metaphysical truths from her West Side apartment. According to Ms. Fisher, the “truth giver” is a spirit named Dance, who is a “sixth-density entity from Dorran, the seventh star of the seventh sister within the Pleiades system. He lives eight hundred years in our own future,” according to the blond and beautiful Ms. Fisher.
Jennifer perched on the counter stool and pulled her robe closer. It was cold in the kitchen, and she wanted her morning coffee, but first she had to read this article.
Recently, a poll by the University of Chicago’s National Opinion Research Council indicated that 67 percent of Americans believe they have had a psychic experience. Many of these people are calling on the spirit world for solace and advice, using mediums, or channelers, who have established contact with “entities” from the past. Sometimes these “entities” beam down from outer space, such as Ms. Fisher’s “sixth-density entity,” Dance.