The Reluctant Medium - Chapter 4

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Brandon, I've gotta' go", I sighed and hung up the phone before he even had a chance to respond.

I started to pace around the room. My mind was racing. I wanted to help this spirit, but I wanted to hurry and get it over with. I just wanted my normal life back. The weekend was running out. I needed to get my son back from his dad and I worried that either this would delay the process of getting this spirit back out of my life or my son would get dragged into it and then he'd be freaked out for life and sleeping in my bed until he left home in his late teens.

"Look, I've gotta' get my son in a bit here. I'd really appreciate it if you stayed away for a bit. He goes to his dad again on Tuesday night and then we can hopefully finish this up. I've gotta' go to the bathroom and then I'm leaving, okay?" I didn't even wait for a response. I walked briskly around the corner toward my bathroom. A few minutes later I emerged. The book lay there still on the floor, open to its popular new page. I breathed in deep and let out a sigh. Then I bent over, picked up the book and laid it back on the coffee table. I glanced over at the counter. My keys weren't there. I huffed and furrowed my brow. I was just about to reprimand the spirit and demand my keys back when I remembered they had been knocked to the tile floor in the kitchen during our earlier battle of wills. I held my breath and pursed my lips as I walked around the corner into the kitchen. "Yep. There they are", I said matter of factly, trying to mask the worry I felt that we might have to get into it again if I was going to get out of here. But alas, as I bent to pick up the keys, they stayed calmly in place and I retrieved them, clutching them tightly in my fist. I blew my breath out in relief and left.

For the next couple of days the house stayed calm and silent. No disturbances. No eerie feelings. Nothing. It was Tuesday late afternoon and my ex-husband called to tell me he would be arriving in about an hour to get our son. I was helping John pack his things for another night with his dad, a sick knot forming in my stomach as I realized it was going to be time to enter the Twilight Zone again. I wished I was going somewhere too. Maybe I would find someplace to go for the evening. Even if it was seeing a movie alone. But then I might come home to an angry spirit. I knew this thing could physically move things and touch me. The thought sent shudders through my body. The thoughts were swirling - all of the possibilities - trying to plan an escape from it all. Suddenly I heard my phone ring. I jumped and gasped. "Are you all right, mom?" my son asked, a look of concern on his face. "It's okay, mom. I'll come home tomorrow, okay?" He had no idea how good that sounded. Him being home meant peace in my life.

I walked briskly out to the phone and answered. It was Brandon.

"Hey, Kristin. How's it going?" he asked, a tone of apprehension.

"Good. Good. How are you?" I answered very nonchalantly.

"Really? Good? Is that ghost person gone?" he asked.

I sighed a long sigh. "Or, if you don't want to talk about it...." he started in again.

"No. It's fine. I can't talk right now. My son is getting ready to go with his dad for the night so I can't really talk right now."

"Oh. Okay." There was a moment of silence on the phone. "So, are you going to be talking to it again tonight then?" I heard the hopeful tone in his voice.

"I guess. That's usually what happens. There's still stuff to figure out, so...." My voice dragged off.

"So, do you like know the ghost's name?" he asked. What an odd question, I thought. I hadn't really thought about that part. I was afraid to make it too personal, I guess.

"It's name?" I asked, surprised. "No. I never really thought about asking it. I mean, I know it's a girl and I know it has my hair color".

"Oh my gosh!" he breathed in wonderment. "That is CRRAAAZZEEEEE!" He sounded out each syllable.

"Yep. Pretty much", I replied casually. "Well, I gotta' go. I've gotta' get my son off to his dad here and..."

Brandon cut right in, "Hey, I'm coming over, k?"

At this point I didn't care. In fact, I welcomed company. I was emotionally drained just thinking about the possibilities that lay ahead for that night. I told him to come on over and hung up the phone. I walked around the corner past the kitchen to the back hall where John's room was located and helped him pack the last of his items. The doorbell rang just then and I embraced my son, handed him his bag and walked him around the corner to the front door. I greeted my ex, gave John one last squeeze, looked him in the eye and said, "Hurry home, my little man". Then I waved goodbye and shut the door. As I turned the corner, heading back toward the kitchen for a nice glass of ice water, I saw it on the fridge. Spelled out in my son's magnetic letters:

L-I-S-A

I froze and held my breath. I swallowed hard, the ripple of chills moving from my toes to the very top of my head.

"Did you do that?" I asked out loud, a slightly upset tone. There was no response. "Huh? Did you?" I marched into the kitchen and messed the letters up with my hands. I huffed loudly and opened the fridge. I bent down in, retrieved the gallon jug of cold water and stood back up, shutting the fridge.

L-I-S-A

There it was again. Spelled out again on my fridge. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "Oh my gosh! This is driving me NUTS! Do you have to do stuff like that? It creeps me out!" I half shouted. My hands were like ice, the sweat thick and greasy in my palms. The gallon jug started to slip. I realized my body was shaking. Too much of an adrenaline rush all at once. I sat the gallon jug on the counter and made my way quickly to my couch, not even feeling my legs. I finally reached it and just crashed right into it, laying there, motionless, suddenly very aware of my breathing - the house was so quiet and still. Suddenly I felt a tingling feeling on my head. My hair started to lift up off my head.

"Stop it!" I screamed and batted at the air above my head. "Stop touching me!"

Suddenly I jumped up off the sofa and spoke aloud. I knew she was there. I knew she was listening and we were going to have a word now. "Listen up. My friend, Brandon, is coming over and if you want me to help you, you're going to cooperate even when he's around. You cooperate and I'll cooperate otherwise you can just forget this whole thing. I'll ignore you. I don't care how aggressive you get. I'm not kidding. One thing you should know about me. I'm stubborn as Hell! I will have my way in the end! You hear me?" My heart was pounding, the adrenaline flowing wildly again. I felt powerful and yet vulnerable at the same time. Suddenly I threw my head back and laughed an insane laugh. I was insane. Truly insane. I fell back on the couch and moaned and groaned, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. "Why is my life so ridiculous?" I lamented.

Just then the doorbell rang. "THANK YOU!" I called out, throwing my hands up in the air. "Here he is", I whispered. "Remember what I told you".

I threw the door open and there he stood. My hero again. My only link right now to sanity - to reality. "Welcome to the crazy house", I said, raising an eyebrow. He laughed and walked in, grabbing me tight and lifting me up.

"What's up, ghost woman?" he teased.

"I'm not the ghost", I replied. "She's over there somewhere", I pointed to the empty family room.

Brandon nearly dropped me. I saw his eyes widen and watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. He wiped his hands on his jeans and nodded, looking around. "Okay. Okay. How do I know she's here?"

I took his hand and led him into my family room. I stopped just before entering and spoke aloud. "Well. He's here. Do something".

Nothing happened. It was silent. The atmosphere very still. Anticipation building. I rolled my eyes and looked about the room. I grit my teeth and sighed heavily.

The book suddenly slid a few inches across the table. I jumped slightly, still caught off guard every time by these episodes. "Wow" Brandon whispered and moved in closer. As he neared the coffee table, it slid to the end of the table and fell clumsily onto the floor, the pages falling open, as if it had simply been knocked off. I sighed with relief. Relief because at least I knew I wasn't totally crazy and also my story was now credible.