“I’mgoing to get something to drink before it starts,” Greyson said, standing fromhis seat. “Can I get you guys anything?”
“I’mgood,” I replied with a smile, while also finding it very difficult to ignorethe menagerie of spirits that swarmed in his vicinity.
Theybuzzed around him, three women and a man. They doted on him, fawning withadoring eyes and smiles. They showed me images of a time when they had beenworried, concerned about his well-being and choices, but now, they felt nothingbut contentment. It wasn’t his life that kept them here, but his questions andconcerns about them and where they were. So, they were waiting to give him amessage, telling him that they were okay. And I knew, with so much guilt in myheart, that I could pass it on, if it weren’t for my fear of being found out bythese people I’d grown to care about.
“Ah,come on, you needsomething,” Vinnie said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.He shifted in his seat and dug out his wallet. “Grab a root beer for us, willya?”
“I’llcome with you, cupcake,” Vinnie’s brother, Zach, replied, as he stood up andtook the cash from his brother’s hand.
Thestage lights continued to flicker as they left, and once he was sure they weregone, Vinnie turned to me and rolled his eyes toward the front of theauditorium.
“Okay,but really, can we talk about how lame this is?”
Isnorted, pressing a hand to my nose. “Oh, my God, I know, right?”
“Greysaid this lady was a pretty big deal, so you’d think she’d have the budget fora little more, um …”
“Flair?”I offered, hiding my grin behind my fist.
Hepointed his finger my way and nodded. “That’s the word I’m lookin’ for—flair.Like, I feel like I’m sittin’ in on an elementary school’s rendition ofFrankensteinor some shit.”
Ilaughed and relaxed into my seat. I already had a predetermined idea of how I’dfeel about the show—disappointment and disgust—but I’d decided to at least havea good time. I was with Vinnie, and if I tried hard enough to ignore theconstant static around me, I could enjoy my time with him. I always did.
But,after Greyson and Zach had returned to their seats and a louder crack of cannedthunder announced the start of the show, my attention was no longer on Vinniebut the Stevie Nicks lookalike who just walked out onto the stage. Thelong-haired blonde was dressed in veils and a dress best suited for a woodlandfaerie, with several skirts and belled sleeves. She was barefoot, paddingacross the stage to the microphone with mystical grandeur, with her handsclasped together and her eyes soft. And I couldn’t help the groan that escapedmy lips.
Vinnieleaned into me, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “What the hell is thisshit?” he muttered, keeping his voice low.
Ishook my head, unable to speak. It still never ceased to amaze me, how gulliblepeople are and how willing others are to take advantage of that. This womanbefore us, spreading her arms out and addressing the applauding audience with awide, serene grin … there was no way she was the real deal. This was too showy,too much of a spectacle, to convince me of any genuine ability.
“Goodevening!” she bellowed into the microphone and the crowd applauded. “Thank youall for joining me tonight. Spirit has been preparing for this occasion allday, and I am ready to pass along their messages,” she extended her arms towardthe audience, “to you.”
Spirit. Isnickered to myself, rolling my eyes. I hated that, always had. Having oneall-encompassing, singular word to describe every soul to ever pass over, as ifthey had all combined to create just one entity on the other side of life. Inmy experience, the dead are just as unique and individual as they were alive,every one of them with their own personality.
“Iwill perform my readings first, and then I will allow a handful of questions.So, if you could all be very—” The woman stopped talking, her mouth hangingopen and her hands frozen in mid-air. She turned soundlessly toward our sectionof the auditorium and pinned her eyes to where I sat, or so it seemed.
“I'msorry,” she said, urgency in her tone as she grabbed the mic from its stand.“I'm feeling a pull in this direction and I cannot ignore it.”
Isat up straighter in my seat, while my heart pounded loudly in my ears,blending seamlessly with the static. She moved closer to the edge of the stage,until she was just a few rows away, and the closer she got, the louder theirchatter became. Almost as if she were bringing more with her.
Witha glance at Vinnie, I saw his curious trepidation, leaving its lines along hisforehead and between his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything, only watched asTracey Lambert came to stand at the very edge of the stage, looking out at therows before her.
“There’sa woman coming through, a mother. She’s here for her son.” Her eyes bouncedbetween every man sitting in those few rows. “Who here has lost a mother?”
“Um,my grandma—”
“No,”Tracey abruptly cut the guy off. “A mother looking for her son. Someone righthere.” She made a circle with her hand. “Right in this area.”
Everyman turned to look at each other with an odd blend of accusation and hope. Everyone of them wanted so badly for it to be them, while also knowing deep downthat it wasn’t.
Exceptfor one.
“Raiseyour hand,” I hissed at Vinnie, all of a sudden excited at the prospect of thiswoman being the real thing.
“What?Hell no. Greyson lost his mom. Maybe it’s her—”
Traceyloudly sighed into the mic, putting a stop to Vinnie’s words. “Someonerighthere. She’s showing me pizza. Maybe someone loves pizza, someone owned apizza place, or—”
“Ourdad owns a pizza place,” I heard Zach call out from beside Vinnie.
