Page 41 of The Aura Answer
While everyone settled into flowered, overstuffed couches and chairs, Evie opened her extra sense to study her hostess. Sadness surrounded her elderly neighbor. There was the usual fog in her fourth chakra, the heart, possibly a little darker than usual. At ninety, a bad ticker was to be expected. But it was the unusual bleakness of her overall aura that worried Evie.
“What’s with the boxes?” she asked at the first opportunity.
Mrs. S waited until the housekeeper had poured tea and left before answering. “Hugh convinced me it’s time to move into one of those residence homes where people come running if I fall down.”
“One of those medic alert buttons would bring the paramedics right over,” Gracie protested. “You have your roomset up down here, don’t you? And if you carry your phone, we’re right next door and can be here instantly.”
“That’s sweet of you, dear. You’ve been the most entertaining neighbors...” Her cup rattled a little in her frail hand. “Your great-aunt was a hoot in her day. But... well, I...”
Evie saw the gray flicker in her aura and frowned. “You’re worried about more than your health.”
Once tall and straight-backed, Mrs. S had shrunk with age. Her narrow shoulders slumped. “It’s my mind, dear. I fear it’s going. I hate that. I refuse to be a burden on my son.”
Loretta shook her head just as Evie did. Interested in what her Indigo child was seeing, Evie let her speak first.
“Your bubble is big and glittery. I don’t see any shadows on it. Some people, when they’re not quite right, have shadows.” She shut up abruptly, as if she’d revealed more than she ought.
That was the first Evie had heard about shadows, but she wouldn’t question now.
She handed Loretta a cookie in approval. “Loretta’s right. There’s nothing wrong with your noggin. What makes you think you’re losing it?”
Mrs. S smiled faintly. “You have a quaint way of expressing yourself. But I’ve taken to seeing and hearing things that aren’t there. I’ve called Hugh so many times in the middle of the night that he had my doctor going over my medications to make certain I’m not being overdosed.”
Gracie nodded in understanding. “I have a neighbor who swore she had squirrels in her living room, and they talked to her. Once they adjusted her meds, she was fine.”
Mrs. S smiled in relief. “So you understand. I’m seeing and hearing my dear Kenneth, who passed on a decade ago. I think it means my time is near.”
Evie shook her head again. “It’s comforting to know he’s here to lead you to the next plane, but if your meds have beenchecked, then it’s not in your head. He’s either really here... or someone wants you to believe he’s here.”
This was not the subject they’d come to talk about, but it was equally worrisome.
Their hostess frowned. “I’m not certain I understand.”
“Evie sees ghosts,” Loretta piped up. “Who is Kenneth?”
“I attract ghosts, at least,” Evie corrected. “Kenneth is Mrs. S’s husband, the judge’s father. Would it be all right if I poked around a little? Is there any specific room where you’re seeing him?”
“Oh, I don’t think...” Her wrinkled face sagged, then brightened just a little. “You really think he may have come to warn me?”
“Is that what he’s doing?” Gracie asked, doing a better job of hiding her eager interest than Evie. “What is he warning you about?”
“I’m not sure, dear.” Her wrinkles settled into a thoughtful frown. “I’m usually asleep. I sort of feel him, and I’m not sure I’m really awake. He tries to tell me something, but... It’s not clear. I sense worry and love, and in the morning, I find a feather on my floor. Marjorie wants to replace my pillows.”
Without asking permission, Evie went in search of Marjorie Brown, the housekeeper and cook. Middle-aged, plump, and efficient, Marjorie had evidently been listening. She met Evie in the hall and gestured to follow her down the hall.
“Miz Charlotte is as sharp as a tack,” Marjorie whispered as they traversed the thick carpet. “These spells didn’t start happening until she started getting them offers.”
“What offers?” Evie stopped when the maid did, in the doorway of an ornate bedroom. Fat roses and peonies in shades of pink adorned plump pillows and comforters and splattered the walls. A neutral gray carpet covered the floor. A floristbouquet of pink roses filled a crystal vase on the mahogany dresser.
“For Mr. Kenneth’s farm. Started last spring. She threw the letters out. Then they started calling. She gave them the judge’s number. He’s handling it, but she’s been having nightmares for months. There ain’t nothing wrong with her head. She’s just plain worried.”
“All right, that’s good to know. Will it be okay to leave me here alone for a little bit? Mr. Kenneth has been gone a long time. I don’t know if he’ll recognize me.” That was one way of putting it. Evie didn’t really know why ghosts materialized for her.
“Your mama is a good woman. She raised good daughters. You do what you have to do. Miz Charlotte don’t belong in no home.” Marjorie walked away.
The housekeeper would lose her job and the roof over her head if Mrs. S moved. Evie got that. She didn’t know what she could do about it, exactly, but one thing at a time.
Warily, she stepped into a room heavily scented with roses and the powdery cologne her hostess wore. Her short legs would require a ladder to climb onto that fancy tester bed. She chose a low ladies’ boudoir chair decorated in a collage of gray and rose flowers.
