Chapter 7 #3
“I only went out with him for a couple months,” Mary shared.
“He was a great deal of fun, but nothing was serious or long-term with him. I think that was the biggest surprise when I did go out with him. He just …” She frowned and thought about how to put it.
“It’s as if everything was a bit of a joke.
He was deliberately never serious, and that got to be pretty wearing after a while.
It just seemed as if life was always this big joke with him.
After the breakup, I remained friendly with him at the coffee shop of course.
I never wanted my job to be impacted, but I guess I had a new awareness that maybe he just wasn’t as happy-go-lucky as he seemed.
Or maybe it could have all been a front,” she added, “like maybe he wasn’t all that happy ever. ”
Kate nodded. “Thanks for the insights. It’ll help as we go forward.” And, with that, she smiled and stepped back.
The boyfriend slammed the door right in her face, but she heard Mary protesting his actions from the inside.
And he had absolutely no reason to do that, except to initiate more power and control over something that he was very uncomfortable with.
But then that was Mary’s problem, not Kate’s, and she just hoped that whatever decision Mary ended up making about her jerk boyfriend, she would go about it a little carefully because he didn’t seem to be the kind to take a rebuff very easily.
Back in her vehicle, Kate jotted down a couple more notes about the entire scenario involving this interview and then turned her vehicle toward home.
If nothing else, she could get in early, get some sleep, and start fresh in the morning.
At least that’s what she hoped for now. As she made the short drive to Simon’s place, she started to get this really weird feeling that something was off.
She pulled off to the side, knowing instinctively it was Simon, and she phoned him.
Even as she called him, she was cursing herself because calling him wouldn’t help.
If he were already in some vision, he couldn’t answer the phone.
With that, she pulled back into traffic and headed home at a slightly faster rate than was good for her.
By the time she pulled in, she was incredibly worried.
She raced inside, seeing Edgar at the front desk, and asked, “Is he home?”
He nodded, but his face was somber as he shared, “He doesn’t look great.”
“No, I haven’t had a good feeling about him over the last hour,” she muttered, as she raced forward.
“You want me to tell him you’re coming?”
“No. It might be better this time if he doesn’t get a warning.”
He nodded in understanding and added, “Good luck.”
She smiled. “It’s not so much about good luck as let’s just hope he’s okay,” she muttered to herself, as she went up the elevator.
As soon as the door opened to Simon’s penthouse suite, she walked in, finding him sprawled on the couch, staring out at nothing.
Yet he didn’t appear to be in a coma or any meditative state.
She walked over, dropped down beside him, and asked, “How are you?”
He turned to her for a moment, silent, as if having trouble focusing. “I’m fine, but obviously you aren’t.”
She shrugged. “Just got a weird feeling about you on the way home—and not in a good way.”
He smiled, reached out a hand, and just held hers.
He didn’t say anything, just holding her hand as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
She stared down at their linked fingers and waited.
He would tell her or not. Either way, she would have to be happy with the choice he made because he often couldn’t even put these visions into words when they happened.
She settled back and just gave him time to verbalize whatever was bothering him.
*
Simon opened his mouth, intending on telling Kate nothing, only to have the words come flying out.
She listened carefully, and, when he finally fell silent, he watched as she looked down at their hands.
She now held his hand, stroking it as if that alone could calm him.
And the foolish thing was, it was calming him, but in a way that he wasn’t expecting.
“I keep finding these lost people, and I don’t know what this particular woman’s problem is. I don’t know what her pain is,” he added, “and, because I don’t know, I can’t help. I kept sending her all this healing energy, all this love, letting her know she’s not alone in the world.”
“But you don’t feel as if she got it?”
He frowned at Kate. “I don’t know if she got any of it. I prefer to think she did, but, of course, there’s always that very big possibility that she didn’t.”
“But wouldn’t that little bit getting through even be something?” she asked.
“That would be … I don’t even know how to explain it.”
“But it made you sad.”
“Very sad,” he stated. “Yet we have leftovers for food, so you don’t have to be totally sad. At least there is something for you to eat.”
She snorted at that. “Isn’t that too funny? Glad you have a sense of humor at least.”
“Sometimes,” he muttered, “it feels as if that sense of humor is all that’s keeping me going.”
She nodded. “I get that too. Sometimes it seems as if we have no options, and this is just who we are. And I’m not sure that’s necessarily true, but I can understand the message coming from your psyche when telling you that.”
“It’s just so sad. I don’t know what it is that she’s trying to do, or what’s happened to her, but it feels very much as if she’s at the end of a road, and she doesn’t have—”
“Time? Like she’s out of time?” Kate asked.
“No, that’s … Well, maybe that is it. She’s out of time, and I don’t know what that time is or what it’s supposed to look like or why a time frame is even attached,” he explained.
Then his eyes fogged up but soon cleared.
“Maybe she’s out of time, and she’s a little desperate, and both of those are important factors. ”
“But that doesn’t necessarily mean that you can help her.”
“Not only that,” he added, “I’m not sure she’s even open to be helped.”
“So, tell me this,” Kate began, as she let go of his hand and stood up. “Is this woman alive, or is this woman dead?”
He frowned at her, and a bark of laughter escaped. “I didn’t even consider that.” He stared at her in wonder. “I literally did not even question it, so I have no idea. How is that even a thing?”
She smiled, reached out, pulled him to his feet, and replied, “Because we know that a lot of times what we think is happening isn’t really happening.
So, it’s important that somebody find some semblance of control in all this and make some sense.
So, when and if you get a chance to see her again—you’re not talking to her, right? ”
“No, I’m not. Visions only. I’m just a fly on the wall.”
“Then, the next time you see her again, maybe figure out if she’s alive, if she’s dead, if she’s haunting something or someone, or if she just wants to … wallow.”
He stared at her. “Do you think people want to wallow?”
She shrugged. “I think, when you get desperate enough or lost enough, wallowing is about the only thing that feels good. Do they want to wallow? I think if they were shown another choice, they wouldn’t want to.
However, when you’re in such a state, I’m not sure you can see any other option is even available. ”