Read You're Not Alone Page 9

Chapter Five

  Mr. Princeton didn’t say anything to me about the business card other than the person whose name was on it would be able to help me. I took it from him and stuck it in my pocket, knowing it was useless to ask any questions. Mr. Princeton would just tell me to call the number. At this point I would try anything, even though I didn’t know what that was.

  After convincing Chaz I would be okay so he could go home, I apprehensively walked into my apartment. I fingered the business card in my pocket while I looked around. I half expected something to jump out at me and I think I hoped the business card would save me from the possible peril I was convinced I was going to face.

  Nothing jumped out at me. No spirits shouted at me. It was eerily quiet.

  I pulled the business card out my pocket and examined it. In large, Blackladder font (yes, I actually knew the type of font used) was the word ANDJELA (Andjela) and below it a phone number. The card didn’t say anything else, but the background said everything. It had a mystical appearance with colors in translucent shades of dark purple and maroons. These colors flowed together to make images. One such image was a crystal ball interlaced with a circle. It was positioned amidst other symbols that weren’t fully distinguishable to me.

  I went to the dining room table and opened my laptop. I searched magical symbols and didn’t find any of the ones on the business card. I googled spirit symbols. Jackpot!

  One symbol on the business card looked like a fat cross with a loop at the top. I found this one on the list first because it started with the letter “a.” It was called an “ankh.” The ankh explained the connection between Mr. Princeton and ANDJELA. It was an Egyptian cross symbolizing a mythical, eternal life, among other things. Mr. Princeton seemed deeply involved in Egyptian lore, and I was pretty sure ANDJELA was some type of psychic or medium.

  I searched for the circle even though I didn’t believe the circle meant anything more than continuation or infinity, but when I found it on the list, one of the descriptions was a representation of the feminine spirit or force; a spiritualized Mother Earth.

  “Hmm, spiritualized Mother Earth—very interesting,” I said to myself as I sat back in my chair. “Not only a psychic, but maybe a medium too.” Then I did what I should have done to begin with. I googled ANDJELA. After much searching, I didn’t find an ANDJELA who had the same phone number as the one on the card. My search took me to “mediums” and “psychics.” Still, I didn’t find an ANDJELA. I found an Andjela Moser, Andjela Elli, and lots of other Andjelas with different last names and most of them were from foreign countries. I did not find ANDJELA without a last name.

  Again, I sat back in my chair. Now I wasn’t sure who this ANDJELA was. All I knew was she was somehow connected to the occupation of magic, spirits, mediums, or something along those lines. And Mr. Princeton recommended her. That alone had to be good enough.

  I closed the computer and went to bed. While changing my clothes I noticed the locket wasn’t on my dresser.

  I froze.

  I knew I put it there before I went to dinner. I started to search the top of my dresser; opened magazines, looked behind the ceramic statues of angels that were given to Matthew by a co-worker during his illness.

  Nothing.

  I became frantic. Because of everything that was happening, I was beginning to doubt myself on just about everything so maybe I didn’t put the locket on the dresser after all. Maybe I stuffed it in a drawer. I pulled the drawers out one by one and quickly rummaged through the clothes.

  No locket.

  “Look.”

  “Dammit, I am looking!” I shouted. “I wouldn’t have to look if you hadn’t hidden it from me.” I was angry. How much more could a person take?

  Suddenly, the room seemed noisy. After a moment I realized part of the sound was my heavy breathing so I forced myself to calm down and take slow, relaxed breaths. Still, I had to strain to hear the voices above my own breathing that were beginning to filter throughout my apartment. I waited.

  After what seemed an eternity, I thought I heard the whispers coming from down the hall toward the living room. I slowly turned and walked in that direction. They didn’t get louder, but they didn’t disappear either. It sounded like a party taking place and the hostess told everyone they had to whisper so they wouldn’t disturb the neighbors. The sight of a party like this in my mind made me giggle even though my knees were weak with fear.

  The whispers topped as soon as I entered the living room. I looked directly at the end table where I first found the locket earlier in the evening.

  It was there.

  I took a step toward it and leaned for a better look. The chain was neatly spread out. The locket was opened. I sucked in a breath of unbelieving. Inside was not the picture of Matthew and me sitting on the dock, but instead a picture of him standing alongside the sign he made for my funeral parlor the day I opened the business. Posing like Vanna White from the television show Wheel of Fortune, Matthew wore a large smile on his face as he pointed to the “O’Reilly’s Funeral Home” sign.

  I thought I was going to pass out, but I couldn’t move. So if I did pass out, I’d drop hard right there on the floor, unless I was lucky and managed to hit the couch. I started to panic. Was someone in my apartment? I knew I locked the door when I left and if someone was in my apartment, they had yet to show themselves.

  After taking several scared gasps, I made myself relax. I concentrated on my fear, forcing it to leave my body with each controlled breath I took. I sat down on the couch and gingerly picked up the locket, half expecting it to disappear in my hand. I stared at the picture. I could have sworn the picture in the locket was the one on the dock at our cottage. Maybe I only thought I saw that picture earlier.

  It couldn’t be Matthew. He wouldn’t have changed the photo I originally put in there. He told me he loved the picture of us on the dock and didn’t want me to ever replace it because he said that picture was the very essence of us.

  Was this an identical locket? I shook my head. That was silly. I didn’t buy another locket, and I was pretty sure Matthew didn’t either. I turned the locket over and looked for the engraving. It was there. M will always love Q. I stayed calm and turned the locket back over to look at the picture. Matthew’s wavy brown hair caught the sunlight, making it look lighter than it really was. His brown eyes sparkled with the excitement evident in his large smile and posed body. His skin that became bronze every summer was beginning to darken.

  As I gazed at the beautiful man that had breathed life into my existence for so many years, tears started to stain my cheeks. “God, I miss you so. If it is you that’s trying to communicate to me, I need help. I’m so lost without you. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t understand what it is you’re trying to tell me. Please, help me, Matthew.” I cried for losing the love of my life. I cried for the anguish and guilt I was feeling over Matthew’s parents wanting their own closure after his death, but harassing me to get it.

  I stopped crying.

  I took the locket with me to the bedroom and set it on the dresser next to the business card. It was time I took control of the situation. If it was Matthew trying to communicate with me then he had something important he wanted me to know. I hoped ANDJELA could help me figure out what that was.