Destiny's Gate (14 page)

“Well I can explain that. We’re from Scotland and born with second sight — I was born on Halloween and it is my heritage to see who is going to die. In the past, our ancestors were given this gift to console their families ahead of time and get them used to the idea. But nowadays, people would think you’ve gone mad! We were all once very spiritual. I’m glad you stopped her from telling
anyone.”

“After that day, Lori looked up to the heavens and decreed that she never wanted to know again who was going to die and when; it stopped. Ted, the next experience that happened was stranger yet. We had a new patient — a brother to another of our regulars that affected Lori immediately when he walked in; she likened it to being punched hard in the stomach. She grabbed her stomach and couldn’t speak for a minute or two, so I led the new patient into the examination room and asked him to fill in the forms there. After the consultation, I walked him out to the front desk and took his payment because Lori couldn’t be in the same room with him. That was a really bizarre situation for Lori and me, until later that day. A police officer came in for a treatment and told us that some guy tried to shoot his girlfriend. He was radioed to investigate because the neighbours had called to complain about the shouting. When he arrived, the suspect was pointing the gun at his girlfriend. The officer stepped in front to protect her from harm. Luckily, he was only nicked by the bullet on his right hand, and the girl was
saved.”

“You mean the same guy that you treated earlier in the day, the new patient, was the same guy that tried to kill his girlfriend?” Grandpa’s voice
quavered.

“Yes, and Lori knew he was going to do something horrible but she did not know what. It scared her for a long time after that. Lori said she felt nauseated and very weak when he walked into the Clinic. Anyway, Lori’s had many experiences. I know what you’re talking about,
Ted.”

Grandpa did not respond. He arose and offered to make dad a cup of tea. I quickly exited the dining room and headed for the stairwell. I heard telepathically,
come and join us, Paige. Don’t hide
. I turned around and there was grandpa smiling at me. I have to say it gave me the willies that he knew where I was but after our chat in the attic, why should I be so surprised. I obediently walked back into the living room and sat next to
dad.

“Where did you come from? I thought you were out walking with your mom and grandma?” dad asked sounding
alarmed.

“No, I had an upset stomach so I stayed
behind.”

“Were you listening to us, Paige?” commanded
dad.

“Yes, sorry, I shouldn’t have eavesdropped like that.” I looked at him and felt rather sheepish but was disappointed by his reaction, like I had betrayed
him.

“That’s okay, Paige,” dad said, as he held my hand, his face softened. “I just thought your grandpa and I were having a one on one conversation, which is pretty rare. Don’t worry, dear.” Dad gave me a peck on the
cheek.

“Tea for three!” grandpa announced as he set the tray down. “We have a gift, don’t we, Paige?” He glanced at dad then
me.

“I guess so.” I was dazed that dad knew about all of this and was at a loss for
words.

“Paige, I’ve known about your mother’s gift since we were dating. And it didn’t bother me one bit. I have always known there was something special about her and expected you to show signs of it someday. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re lucky to be gifted...I wish I had it too. Your mom shares things with me and I just smile and encourage her not to be afraid of it. Only something miraculous could be behind this ability...not
evil.”

Sighing, I relaxed and thought,
he’s right
.
There’s nothing to be ashamed of, it is a gift, a miracle in fact
. Sensing mom and grandma as they entered the manor I put my finger to my mouth and pointed towards the
kitchen.

Grandpa welcomed them back, “Well that didn’t take long,
ladies!”

Mom and grandma appeared in the doorway and acknowledged how lovely it was to have tea ready for them. I grabbed two cups and poured it, making excuses that dad and I were still too full to have any. And that is what I called
a
save
!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A Spiritwalker

While the six of us were wrapped up in conversation after a midday snack, I could not stop thinking about how great it was to have Hanna join us as part of the family. I had grown to understand her more in the past few months. She was intense and always thinking of our safety, which brought me to a more acute awareness. Something was trying to get my attention, an energy swirling around me, distracting me, making it difficult to listen to everyone else. It became rather annoying so I focused harder on mom as she described her latest research article on non-native women living in Italy and their
experiences.

Despite my best efforts, I saw a vision of a man standing talking to me and swinging his right hand at me, pointing. At first, I did not know who it was until I really concentrated on the face; it was Dexter! He was calling to me, from where I had no idea, and it looked as if he was in trouble. Now why would I help Dexter after all he had done to me on Halloween? Then I heard a voice stating,
Dexter is not himself! He needs your help now.
I must have looked spaced out as grandpa and mom stopped talking and stared at me. I felt foolish and made a hasty exit stating I had to go to the bathroom. Luckily, the conversation resumed as
normal.

Gazing at my dishevelled long, curly, auburn hair and wild eyes in the bathroom mirror, I wondered what to do next. It was one of those moments when I felt I had to trust my instincts. I could run back into the living room and tell everyone what was going on, or I could go and help Dexter out of loyalty and trust he was back to
normal
. With this possibility in mind, I glanced out the tiny bathroom window and saw a well-tanned man with long black hair tied in two braids over his shoulders, a scoop neck black tee and a black vest and jeans; he was leaning against a tree, his arms folded and one leg crossed over the other, smiling at me. Next, I heard my clock radio click on and the singer Pink belted out the song,
Don’t let me get me.
It gave me the willies. When I looked out again, the man with braided hair was
gone.

Out of desperation, I looked upwards and asked aloud, “Who was that?” My hands were raised above my
head.

I heard a reply —
a
spiritwalker
.

Shaken, I asked, “A spirit
what?”

A spiritwalker
. And then,
silence.

I dressed for the cold, ran out of the bedroom as fast as my short legs would take me, down the hallway through the east entrance of the manor and into the forest. I ran so fast I could not fathom where I was until I stopped in front of the guest house, shivering.
Now what would I find in here
?
Dexter, my friend ,or Dexter, my
foe
?

I watched as the front door creaked partially open. No one was in sight. Thud; I felt an ache in the pit of my stomach and worried I was in for another round of spirit mania. Against my better judgement, I put one foot in front of the other and pushed the door open until I stood just inside the doorway. There, in the hallway, lay Dexter surrounded by a pool of blood. I frantically dialled the manor number on the antique brass and black rotary phone which frustrated me immensely.
Why didn’t my grandparents install a normal touchtone phone?
Hanna picked up and I hysterically cried out — Dexter is dead! The rest was a hazy dream as paramedics arrived and carried Dexter out on a stretcher. I barely grasped the concept that an oxygen mask was placed over his mouth and nose, and an IV drip was inserted into his arm. The sight of Dexter’s bloodied head burned into the recesses of my
mind.

Grandpa insisted he and grandma would go to the hospital to attend to Dexter and ordered the three of us to stay home together. I vaguely heard grandpa as I replayed the scene of finding Dexter lying listlessly in his own blood. My mind raced with thoughts of who did this to him and
why.

“Paige, dear, you’ve had a terrible fright. Come and sit with me.” Mom held my hand and led me to the elongated couch, patting the seat beside her. As I sat down, she leaned over and tucked my hair behind my left ear, and hummed a song I had not heard since childhood. If I remembered correctly, it was called Hush, Little Baby. Tears streamed down my face, fatigue overcame me, and I slumped down into her lap, stretching out my legs on the
couch.

Grandpa rubbed the top of his head as he hastily exited, ordering Hanna to stay by the phone for updates. He stormed out of the manor to the car where grandma waited anxiously, in anticipation. Hanna stood frozen in the hallway solemnly nodding while monitoring mom and me, and then returned to the kitchen to clean up after the
tea.

Dad rushed into the kitchen and I overheard him relieve Hanna of her duties and insisted she have a rest while our family had some more tea together. When the kettle whistled, he called us into the kitchen. I noticed his hand trembled as he poured the boiling water into the Brown Betty. Mom and I settled into the breakfast nook by the bay window overlooking the snow-covered garden. My mind raced with the memory of Dexter’s bloodied body and I was anxious after the day’s events. In contrast, it was a relief to look out at the sunlight glistening on the snow. When I closed one eye, it looked like sunshine glistening on top of
waves.

“Paige, that was a terrible act of violence for you to stumble upon. Are you all right, dear?” Dad placed our tea cups on the table and then motioned mom to stand up. He sat on the bench between us and clutched my
forearm.

“I...just can’t believe it. He was laying there, blood everywhere. I thought Dexter was dead,” I replied through broken sobs. “I will never be able to get that out of my head.” I threw my head down onto folded
arms.

“Well, let’s not get too excited, Paige. We need an update from the hospital. Grandpa said they had an oxygen mask on Dexter, remember, as he was wheeled away,” mom said, in a comforting
tone.

“Your mom’s right, Paige. Let’s hope for the best.” Dad picked up his cup of tea and slurped it so loudly, it gave us a much needed break from all the
tension.

Dad changed the subject and began to delicately explain to mom that I had overheard his conversation with grandpa about the family gift; mom’s gift in particular. I was embarrassed, until I sensed a sigh of relief from
her.

“It’s about time the three of us talk about life in the O’Brien way...in our immediate family,” mom said in a confident manner. “It’s okay, Kevin, we discussed it in the attic. Paige, I always knew you were gifted, when we lived in Scarborough. Do you remember when you were a little girl, about six or seven? You would stand in the kitchen after supper, and look up facing the cupboards — one by one the bowls would fall into your
hands?”

“Well, now that you mention it, mom, I kind of remember. I kept it a secret because I realized through DVDs that not everyone can do it. Telekinesis isn’t an everyday occurrence. And I didn’t want to get in trouble for it.” I cast my gaze
downwards.

“I caught you one night and asked what you were doing. You looked so ashamed and as far as I know, you never did it again. I have to admit it scared me, as your mother, because I didn’t understand how you were moving the bowls by looking at
them.”

“Yup, I remember mom. I used to move things using my mind. I wasn’t sure if I was good or evil, myself. We all have it in us — good and evil. I also remember talking to an angel in my bedroom window until the age of ten. She was beautiful — surrounded in shimmering, white light. She guided me, instructing me on the rules of life. I don’t really recall what she said specifically, something about fighting for the good within us and not letting the dark side
win.”

“Pretty profound for someone so young at the time!” Dad interjected. He shot mom a sideways
glance
.

“Go on, Paige,” mom retorted. “The same thing happened to me when I was young, remember? I mentioned it in the
attic?”

“Yes, I was thrilled to hear you say that. It was about then that I realized other kids couldn’t do what I could so I stopped for years until...this past year. It’s like something has awakened inside of me. Did the move do this? Is it moving here to the manor,
mom?”

“Perhaps, or it could be any number of factors. Your age, intelligence and maybe you are being called upon to do something for the Other Side. They are asking you to become aware of your gift. Who’s been guiding
you?”

Now that was a loaded question. I was hesitant to share too much. Pausing, I slowly responded, “Well, like I said in the attic, Grey Owl, and an older man with white braided hair, and a
spiritwalker.”

Dad smacked the table with his hand. “Oh, that’s all. You knew about all this,
Lori?”

Mom ignored the question. “Sounds like you have something important to do and I hope you are listening with your heart and your smarts. Not all spirits should speak to us. There are earthbounds that will try to trick you,
Paige.”

“Mom, stop!” I threw my left hand up. “I know about that already. Peggy and Carole have helped me as well. They are teaching me what to watch out for. And I trust them, don’t
you?”

“Of course, dear. That’s who advised me as well — Peggy, I
mean.”

Dad nudged mom to move, arose, waved his hand in the air, and said, “That’s enough for now.” He appeared to be uncomfortable and I knew he wanted to speak to mom alone about all of this. He poured some more tea for me and gingerly set Hanna’s Brown Betty down on a warmer, while he explained, “According to the British, the importance of the peculiar shape of the teapot causes the leaves to gently swirl around, creating the perfect flavour. Did you know that the teapot was made with a cobalt glaze? That’s what keeps the tea especially hot.” Dad sat next to mom on the
bench.

We sat in silence sipping away. It was nice, actually. Snow began to fall, tiny flakes, at first, then the ginormous kind that reminded me of paper cut-outs — the kind I once made in kindergarten. It was magical against the backdrop of an indigo sky until I saw Blue-Eyes watching us from the forest. It was the first time I had seen him since Halloween; everything had stopped that next day, no wolves, no visions, nada. My early warning system kicked in;
why is he here
now
?

It was mom who noticed Blue-Eyes first. She watched as he sat and returned her stare. Mom poked dad’s left arm and motioned for him to look out the window following her gaze. His eyes popped and Blue-Eyes ran away. I felt queasy, and could not help but wonder what he wanted; how would I find out without alerting my
parents?

Mom suggested we watch a movie together and relax until we heard further news about Dexter. It was a comfort to hear Hanna stir in the hall and poke her head in to ask if we would like salmon for dinner. Absent-mindedly we nodded, one by one, in agreement. The Maddison family had a lot to think about for one
day!

The phone rang shrilly and it gave us all a start. We looked at one another as if to see who would pop up and answer it. Thankfully, Hanna strode into the kitchen like her life depended on it, and picked the receiver up; after a series of uh-huhs, she hung up the phone and burst into tears as she announced Dexter was dead! Hanna stormed out of the room and all I could think about was my premonition. It had come true; I had seen Dexter dead. It only served to dishearten me. What was the point of knowing events in advance when there was nothing that could be done about it? Then, it hit me. That’s why Blue-Eyes tried to get my
attention.

I cried all the way to my bedroom and paused when I heard that same haunting song again by Neon Trees called
Animal
, in my head. The part where the singer declares he’s afraid he won’t get out alive played over and over. I covered my ears hoping to make it stop. The more I tried to ignore it, though, the louder the song became. This was a part of the gift that I had not bargained for, nor understood the significance of. I also wondered who was doing this to
me.

Flinging myself down onto the bed, I began to weep. It allowed me to release my emotions about Dexter’s death, and for the pain endured while living on the estate. It was cleansing. I sobbed until it parlayed into
sleep.

Late in the afternoon I heard my grandparents bang open the front door, sounds of crying, then silence and hushed whispers. My guesstimate — the funeral arrangements were being discussed. I heard a woman’s voice that was unfamiliar. Curiosity caught me and I tiptoed from the bedroom, down the hall and stood in the shadows peeking around the corner to the entrance of the manor. A woman with a blonde bob haircut and suntanned face stood in the foyer wearing an oversized, navy blue parka; it looked awkward on her petite frame. She thanked grandma for her help with the funeral costs. It dawned on me that this must be Dexter’s wife.
How could I not have met her after living here for five months?
She seemed fragile until she looked in my direction. I knew I was out of sight but sensed she knew where and who I was. Grandma invited her in for tea but she said she needed to pick up a few things in town. Then she hugged grandma goodbye and over her shoulder, waved to me. I was alarmed and jumped back further into the shadows. Clearly, I was not as hidden as I
thought.

As soon as the door closed, I approached grandma and said, “I’m so sorry. I was too late to save
Dexter.”

“Paige, I cannot help but wonder how in Heaven’s name you knew to go and check on him. I’m grateful you did. It is not your fault that Dexter did not make it. But how in the world did you know to go help him in the first place?” Grandma placed her hand gently on mine awaiting an
answer.