Neelie's Story Read online



  Neelie's Story

  Imminent Danger

  Trish Jackson

  ISBN: 9781310624322

  Copyright © 2016

  Acknowledgments

  All rights reserved. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The opinion of the fictional characters is not necessarily the opinion of the author.

  CHAPTER 1

  It all began when Mom and Dad went out of town and left my great grandmother alone in the house with me. She was going on 91 and although she got a little more hunched over every year, she was still as feisty as ever.

  "Come," she said to me after we finished dinner and I had loaded the dishwasher. "It is time for you to learn the wisdom." I never understood why she spoke with a Romanian accent. She was born in the U.S. and lived here all her life.

  I was thirteen at the time, and I didn't know exactly what she was alluding to, but it sounded like some kind of Gypsy crap. Again. My mother had never spoken much about her childhood, which is why, I suspected, my great grandmother waited until Mom and Dad were out of town for the night. My older brother, Graeme had already left home and joined the army, and was someplace in 'sandland' as he called it, so I was alone with her.

  She led the way, pushing her walker, and I followed her into the formal living room.

  "Sit." She commanded, and I dropped into the couch. I hope this isn't gonna take long.

  She stood between me and the coffee table, leaning on her walker. "My grandmother, Granny Luludja, she was the real Gypsy who came to the U.S. from Ireland with the Romanichals in 1889," she continued. I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I remember her well. We traveled around the United States trading in horses and visiting fairs. We had the best horses anywhere."

  Blah, blah, blah. I had heard all that before. I don't show any of my Gypsy blood. I take after my dad, who was blond with light green eyes, and I really wasn't interested in all of that stuff. I tried to think of some way out—some excuse to use to get away. "I have to do my homework, Puri, can we talk about this later?"

  "No. Now is time for the magic. Sit there."

  She may have been old and bent and tiny, but she was scary when she raised her voice. Her eyes went almost black and they flashed, so I obediently sank back onto the sofa. I eyed the remote, and was tempted to turn on the TV in an effort to distract her, but she anticipated it, grabbed it, and threw it across the room. Now she had all my attention and I sat there gaping at her with my mouth wide open.

  "Teenagers!" she complained loudly. She then closed the door and turned off all the lights. The blinds had already been shut, and the room was almost totally dark. I blinked for a while until my eyes adjusted, to see her shadowy form still standing in front of me.

  "I—I'm listening now, Puri," I said, surprised that my voice was trembling a little. I'd never asked where that name came from, but we had always called her that.

  My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I eased it out and glanced down at the lit-up screen to see who was calling.

  "Give it to me," she demanded.

  "But. . . "

  "Now."

  I handed it to her with a shaky hand. I was beginning to worry about her sanity. Could all this magic talk and disciplinarian stuff herald the beginning of dementia? She went to the door, opened it a crack, and I head the crack as my cell phone hit the floor in the hallway. I cringed and fervently hoped she hadn't broken it. Mom would never believe Puri did it.

  I was starting to envision her being taken away in a strait jacket.

  "Now we talk. It is a tradition in our family for one woman to keep the magic alive. Your mother was never interested, but you—I see it in you."

  I swallowed hard. I wondered what was coming next.

  She crossed the room and took something off the bookshelf. I could just make out her shape as she came shuffling back towards me, the walker's wheels squeaking, and set whatever it was down on the coffee table in front of me. In the darkness it looked like a black blob.

  She did something to it, and stepped back. I blinked and did a double take. I could clearly see a sparkling crystal ball. It seemed to glow, and it captured the narrow moonbeams that slipped through the blinds, and reflected them a thousand times. It wasn't only visual. A strange magnetism that I can't explain seemed to pull me toward it.

  Puri, who was still standing there in front of me in the darkness said, "Yes? Now you understand."

  I didn't understand anything, but I couldn't take my eyes off the sparkling, shining orb, and waves of sweet, warm energy seemed to ripple through me. It was a feeling that seemed old. I don't know how a feeling can be old, but I never wanted it to end.

  "Reading the crystal ball is something that cannot be learned," Puri told me. "You have to have the magic in you."

  I didn't know anything about reading it. I only knew I couldn't take my eyes off it.

  Puri pushed the table closer to me and I stared down at the crystal ball. A feeling like warm ocean waves washed over me and as I watched, the ball began to change. The bright, clear facets became cloudy. It was as if a thick, swirling fog had enveloped it. My breathing elevated, and as I stared transfixed, a picture came into the ball. Or was it in my mind? I wasn't sure. I saw a baby. My mother was holding it and it was whimpering. I couldn’t move my gaze.

  "Enough." Puri broke the spell, and I blinked. When I looked again, it was just a crystal ball standing on the coffee table reflecting the moonlight.

  I stared up at my great grandmother's dark outline. "What was that? What just happened?" My voice sounded strange and hollow.

  "You saw into the future. That's your child. A girl. Your mother is the only person who will be able to stop her crying."

  I gasped. "How do you know that? It can't be." I was right the first time. She should be checked into an asylum—or wherever they keep crazy old people.

  "It is the truth." She covered the ball up with a velvet cloth, picked it up, and put it in the basket in the front of her walker. I wanted to tell her no. I wanted to keep it close, to see more. "The magic is strong, Cornelia. You cannot have too much of it all at once. The ball should be used to help others discover their future, not for your own life except when you believe there is great danger for you or a loved one." She trundled her walker back to the doorway to turn on the lights, retrieved the remote and handed it to me.

  I was still sitting in the same place on the sofa wondering what had just happened.

  I didn’t want to turn on the TV. I didn't care about my phone. I wanted the magic to last forever, but the lights had broken the spell. Did I really look into the future and see my own child? I was sure I hadn't imagined it. Maybe I did have some sort of psychic ability. Some might call it a sixth sense. Whatever.

  Every time we found ourselves alone in the house at night after that, my great grandmother taught me more magic—or whatever it was. Cranky teenager though I was, I actually found myself looking forward to those sessions.

  I was a little pissed when she told me never to share the information with anyone. That's like a prison sentence to a teenager. Lizzie and I shared everything. Something told me I should probably take her warning seriously, though, and I managed to keep it to myself. She probably had some magic way of finding out if I talked about it, and who knows what she would have done to
me if I had divulged any of it to anyone. On top of that, I didn't want Lizzie to think I was in need of a shrink.

  Puri talked about astrology, and explained how the sun, stars, moon and planets influence our lives and even our behavior. I am a Scorpio, which she said means I am brave, strong and well-grounded, but I tend to be secretive. "Astrology can reveal one's life purpose, and one's ascension path," she said. "It can provide clarity on all and offers solutions to life's most difficult challenges. Through astrology you can learn to understand your inherent strengths and potentials in every aspect of your life." I was surprised at her in-depth knowledge of the subject. "It will also affect your love life," she said. "The only man who will be able to control you is another Scorpio." I wondered if I really wanted a man who could control me. What if I married a man from another star sign? Would I control him? It sounded okay to me.

  In the weeks to follow I learned to make smudge sticks from sage and sweet grasses and other herbs, and how to use them to purify the air and remove the negative energy. Puri didn't drive anymore, but she had a mind like an elephant, and described to me exactly where to find the herbs that would emit the special kind of smoke that would help my mind to drift, and what to look for. She described them so clearly that I had no problem finding them when I rode out there on my bike, armed with a shovel and plastic bags.

  She introduced me to tarot cards and taught me the significance of the ancient elements—water, fire, air and earth. I learned that the suit of Cups represented water and the emotions, Wands represented fire and told of people's passions and drive, Swords, ruled by air foretold of strife, and Pentacles embodied health, home, and physical realities, or earth.

  "The crystal ball," she said. "Is not for you. Only the cards."

  She didn't say much more about it and I planned to ask her to elaborate later, but then she set the crystal ball and the Tarot cards on the table in front of me and said, "Here. Your training is complete, Cornelia," and left the room.

  That night she passed away peacefully in her sleep.