40
Ominous clouds gathered, threatening rain, but Malcolm and Melissa did not notice the change in weather, as they were in a small, curtained room, dominated by a round table.
In the middle of that table was a crystal ball, and that was surrounded by tarot cards.
Melissa was stood nearby, the camcorder wrapped in masking tape and new film inside.
Malcolm kept glancing at it as Mystical Aurora, real name Jean Williams, clasped his left hand, and looked deep in concentration. She was an elderly lady, who looked to be in her early seventies. She wore a glamorous dress which was covered in symbols from the zodiac, and each finger had a glittering ring. Around each wrist were many bracelets, many of them with charms. She wore crystals around her neck, some attached to a headband.
Melissa had enquired about these and was told that the energy from the crystals could be deciphered through brainwaves, or the power of thought. It was easier for her to contact the deceased, or to read a persons future. She liked to think of the crystals as giving her a seventh sense. This was the second medium Malcolm had been to try and contact his father again, deliberately not mentioning his mother, or Ian. He did not wish to explain why, and doing so would give them fuel for their readings. The other had been useless. It was basically standard fare. He told him exactly what he thought Malcolm wanted to hear. Yes, he was happy. Yes, he was in a better place, yes, he told Malcolm not to worry about him.
Suddenly his father was speaking to him again, he had thought, so had decided to try one more. He knew there were many sharks out there willing to take people’s money to tell them what they wished to hear. Perhaps they were paying for peace of mind. Either way, the medium in that case knew exactly what they were doing, and played to the weaknesses of those who believed what they were told.
There was always somebody willing to relieve the gullible of their money, no matter what it was, no matter how low in society’s perception. If there was money to be made in certain areas, then the shark’s sense it like they sense a trace of blood in the water. He hoped this medium was ‘genuine’, which meant that if they were not in touch with spirits, or anything supernatural, he hoped they were deluded into thinking that they were. There was always an alternative account to what the medium felt, and when there could be no explanation, other than what they believed, then that would be the proof of paranormal reality.
Eliminate all other possible explanations, and if you are left with only one, then this was evidence of that which would not be described scientifically. Malcolm hoped that that window, that one account that could not be answered by any other means meant it was a direct route to the spirit world, and Aurora was in connection with it, as was Curio. If Aurora told him that his father was not happy with him for not sacrificing himself, then he would be quite impressed. It would mean he would seek out another medium, believe the other to be a shark, and choose carefully those mediums who looked to be in the profession for their genuine belief, not to make money from the gullible. If subsequent mediums all told him that his father was unhappy with him, then he would begin to believe more, but he guessed that they would only generalise. What they said could be widespread enough to include everybody. The gullible would find meaning in it that could be geared to them.
Rather like reading a horoscope. Read them all on one day and in each there will be something that each person could find that related to them. Cover up the dates and words, jumble up the texts for each of them, then pick out which one you could most relate to, and there would be a one in twelve chance that you would be correct, that it would be your sign.
Malcolm couldn’t help but believe that those psychics that believed themselves to be ‘genuine’, actually thought they had a gift, thought they had some form of connection, of link direct to the spirit world, or to what the scientific community had not proven to be real, or factual. A lot of them he thought were simply deluding themselves. Images in their minds and voices were activated by their willingness to believe, and by an active subconscious mind that gave the consciousness what it deemed to be related to the subject given to them at the time.
Haunted houses simply meant stories passed around of active spirits in that place, but there was never any collective sightings. Only one person susceptible to believing, and especially the mediums who thought they were psychic, were usually the only witnesses to the ‘ghost’. If many people saw the same ghost, at the same time, then credibility would be due, but Malcolm had always thought he had to see it to believe it, and belief in the spirit world for Malcolm was closer than he had ever thought possible. Curio had taught him that. Curio seemed to have been much more close. If there was only one genuine psychic with a direct link to the spirit world, and to his father, then Curio was it. His father had told him through Curio to go and see ‘Ian’, and Ian had existed.
Perhaps Curio did have a real gift, a real link to ‘something’. Maybe that was the spirit world. Whatever forces his father was involved with, Curio had tapped into it, and was the closest link he had to finding out what his father had been up to. He hoped he was right. If Aurora conveyed similar information, then he knew he would be on his way to becoming a true believer.
Aurora gripped his hand tightly. “Yes,” she said. “He is here, I can feel him” Just you then, he thought. Melissa panned every few seconds between them. Two red lava lamps bathed the room in crimson, and all was quiet, despite the fact that outside there was a public walkway. The building they were in, ‘Rose arcade’ catered for the type of shop that could be described as ‘alternative’. It had a tattoo and piercing parlour, a shop that specified in selling used vinyl records, and many shops that sold bizarre types of fashion.
Mystical Aurora catered for many types of spirituality, such as tarot card reading, and healing. Mediation between the real and the spirit world was simply one of her ‘talents’. Malcolm glanced occasionally at her hand, while she seemed to play-act. He hoped she wasn’t.
“Yes,” she said again. “You wish to tell your son that you are in paradise”. He glanced again at the camera, his face conveying despondency. He had chosen not to give any details about his father, simply that he wished for her to contact him.
“Ah...I see him now. Come closer. He is a big, strong man. Why are you limping? What’s that? A work accident. Where you a builder?” Malcolm shook his head, even though Aurora’s eyes were still closed. He then shook his head at the camera and shrugged.
“He says you’ve got nothing to worry about”. Yep, thought Malcolm, exactly what the other one said. Now he’s talking to me. Perhaps if he did go to many psychics, and they all conveyed similar information, then maybe that would single Curio out to be a shark, or simply wrong. Yet, Curio had been the most accurate, on a more precise pathway to his father’s new existence.
“He says to tell Joanne to go for that new job. Is she… your sister?”. Malcolm shook his head at the camera, and mouthed the words: ‘Let’s go’, and hooked a thumb towards the exit.
“Er…My sister’s name is Joan, and she lives in London. She mentioned she was looking for another job, yes”, he lied, simply wanting to make her feel good. He believed that Aurora was one of those psychics deluded into believing they had a gift, so had fed her a morsel that she could grasp onto, and make her feel pleased in the knowledge that she was right, or close.
“She’s living with a good man. Your father says you should see him more often”.
“Yes,” said Malcolm. “I’ve been meaning to”.
“Yes, do”. He looked at her hand again, and wished she would let go. She spoke for another few minutes about his ‘sister’, her man, and her man’s best friend. ‘Tell her to be careful, he has a roving eye’. He had found himself agreeing mostly with what she had said.
Not entirely saying yes all the time, because then he thought that that may make her suspicious. He just gave her enough hooks to lead her along, because he knew that she was in about as much contact with her father as he was.
“He says he’ll be waiting, with…your mother. Is she there as well?”. Ah, at last, he thought, she’s got something right.
“Yes, but it was just my father I wanted to speak with”. She opened her eyes and looked at him with concern in her eyes.
“You wanted to speak to him?”
“I just...oh, nevermind”.
“The connection’s broken now. Your father’s gone back. Would you like me to try again?”
“Er, no thanks. It’s fine”. Melissa stopped the tape, and put it back in the bag while Malcolm rummaged around in his pockets for £25 pounds to pay her.
They bid her goodbye, and walked past shops that were void of customers.
“Honestly, at this rate, my account’s going to be bare, and I don’t get another grant until next month,” he said, dejectedly.
“Have you really got a sister?” Melissa asked.
“No. I haven’t. Anyway, it looks like Curio is the only one who can ‘talk’ to my father. I think he could be a real psychic”. Melissa nodded.
“I think he is,” she said.
“I think he could be a goldfish in a sea of sharks. I’ve got to see him again,” he said, as they walked down a steep set of stairs.