The Witch and the Gentleman (10 page)

Could I someday channel Caesar? I didn’t know, but I suspected that seeing him, and feeling his love for me, knowing he was okay and still watching over me, my protector, might be enough for me to move on.

Might.

With a deep sigh, I pushed past the pain and opened the book in my lap. The book on Wicca, of course. Since, according to Millicent, I’d been a witch down through the ages.

I shook my head at the thought and wondered if I’d ever been burned at the stake. On second thought, I didn’t want to know.

So, I went through the basic exercises again, practicing my visualization, practicing feeling the energy in various objects around me, including the array of crystals lined on my bookshelf behind me. I discovered I received an almost electric tingle—very similar to the feeling when Millicent appeared—when I held my hand over the chunk of amethyst.

I reveled in the feeling for a few minutes then went on to the other crystals. Each seemed to have a signature, a feeling, a buzzing, but none like the amethyst. According to the instruction book, I was to use whatever stone resonated the most with me for various spells and ceremonies. Well, then, amethyst it was!

And, no, I still had not wrapped my head around the thought of performing spells or participating in ceremonies. Truth was, other than mild interest, I’d never considered pursuing witchcraft, or Wicca, in the past. More truth, I never really believed in magic, either. Yes, I believed in extrasensory perception, but real magic? The ability to influence the physical through potions, ritual and intent?

No, I didn’t think it was possible.

And yet...so much of Wicca I already performed without knowing it. Its practice of grounding oneself to Mother Earth prior to a reading. I did that. Grounding was necessary to maintain a deep connection to our greatest battery source: the Earth itself. I also practiced my own form of shielding, too. Yes, there were some negative energies and entities out there, and lately, I was feeling them more and more. Hell, I’d been possessed by such an entity.

A lot of what I was doing was similar to the Wiccan techniques. I’d been taught the grounding and shielding techniques in a class I’d taken years ago. Had the trainer been Wiccan? Were her psychic techniques influenced by Wicca, or was it the other way around? Or was there some cross-pollinating going on?

I didn’t know, but reading through the Wiccan book felt...comfortable. It also felt like I had sort of come home.

I continued through the exercises, feeling like I was mastering each quickly as I went. Maybe I was a natural at this stuff. Maybe I really had been a witch in a past life.

And a very good one, Daughter.

I glanced up, gasping. “Millicent?” I asked.

I doubted she was here, though, because I didn’t feel that same electrical charge when she made her presence known.

Oh, she is near, overseeing your instruction, as are a few others.

My heart thumped. The words appeared directly in my thoughts. I was sure of it. I was also sure they weren’t from Millicent, either.

“Who are you?”

For an answer, I saw a primeval forest, with huge, majestic pines rising high into the sky, and ferns crowding everywhere. I saw birds flitting from branch to branch, squirrels running up and down trunks. I saw moss and mushrooms and rotted logs and trails and deer. The image morphed into churning seas with misty land rising in the far distance. I saw ships on the horizon, and then my view dipped down below the waves and there I saw all manner of aquatic life. The ocean floor segued into windblown desert dunes. I saw caravans and tents and camels. I saw oases and awe-inspiring sandstorms. From there, I was led high up into snow-covered peaks. Below me was the world, shrouded in fog, and teeming with life. Above all else, I sensed unending, boundless, pure love for it all. A mother’s love.

“You are...” but my voice faltered.

Call me Gaia
, said the quiet but strong voice in my head, and I felt her love for me, too.

Mother Earth.

Chapter Twenty-one

I felt very strongly that I should sit back, relax, and close my eyes.

So, I did that now. Within seconds, I was in a deeply meditative state. I felt like I was floating. Most important, I felt detached from my own body. I’d done this before, entered a trance-like state. But never so quickly and deeply.

You are Mother Earth,
I thought.

I’ve been called many things, but I do have a name.

Gaia,
I thought.

Yes. We all have spiritual names, child.

And what’s mine?

It will be revealed to you at another time.

I nodded, although I knew my physical body never moved. I nodded within my own mind, or wherever it was that I had gone.

You are with me,
said Gaia.

I don’t understand.

Look around you.

I did. I was surrounded by molten walls, iridescent and glowing and beautiful. The molten metals churned and roiled. That my body was sitting comfortably in the Spirit Chair in my bedroom in Beverly Hills seemed almost a distant memory.

I am much more than the surface you see, my daughter. As are you.

My Higher Self,
I said.

Yes. Your current physical form is just a small representation of who you really are.

And who am I, really?

A part of God.

Are you God?
I asked.

I’m a part of God as well. Perhaps a slightly bigger part.
I heard light chuckling in my head.

A lot of people worship you. They call you the Earth Mother, or Earth goddess.

Worship and respect are sometimes interchangeable and often confused.

Should you be worshipped?

Worship only God’s glory through me.

The scene shifted from under the earth, and soon I found myself upon a stony crag high above a many-layered canyon. Below, a narrow strip of water wended its way through the steep cliffs, cutting through the stone as it had done for eons upon eons. I was hundreds of feet up, and the narrow strip, I soon realized, was actually a raging river. The sun was warm on my face. The wind was cool on my neck.

You are all of this?
I asked.

We are all part of the Creator, child. But, yes, the earth is my physical shell, if you will.

You inhabit the Earth, as I inhabit my own physical body?

This is true.

So, you are not very different from me?

We are all from the Creator, but there are some of us who are created for different purposes.

I thought about that.
Such as other planets?

And stars and moons and galaxies and universes and other heavenly bodies.

My head was spinning.
You were created, then, for the specific purpose of inhabiting the Earth?

Partially true. I have been other planets throughout time and space. The Earth, I’ll admit, has been one of my favorites.

What is your role for us?
I asked.
For humanity?

I was still standing on the rocky ledge, but now I sensed a presence nearby. Mostly, I sensed a gathering of energy next to me. It was
her
, of course, Mother Earth. Focusing her energy, although she was without shape or form. No, not true...before me, everywhere, was her shape and form, from the rocks to the trees, to the rivers to the beaches.

My role is to help you evolve, child. To help all of you evolve upon my surface and under it.

Under it?

I sensed her smile next to me.
That is a conversation for another time.

But how do you help us evolve?

By giving you a playground to live in, to work in, to love in, to experience physical life in. I work closely with, shall we say, higher energies.

Higher energies?
I’d come across the concept in some of my readings, that many masters walk the Earth, both in physical and non-physical forms, helping those who seek them and God.

I sensed her nod next to me.
Highly evolved beings, yes. There is, you see, an experiment going on, although few of you know it.

An experiment?
I didn’t like the sound of that.

The Earth, and other planets like me, are conducting a free-will experiment, if you will.

I don’t understand.

You have all been given free will, to do as you wish, to conduct yourselves as you wish, to do with me as you wish, to others as you wish. The Creator wants to see what you will make of yourselves, and with me. The Creator wants to see if you will fly or fall.

Doesn’t the Creator know all? I asked. Doesn’t the Creator know what will happen?

There are many possible outcomes, and many of them are known to me, as well, as are they known to the spiritual masters.

The highly evolved beings.

Yes. Which is why they are here to help.

But if they are helping,
I asked,
then doesn’t that remove our free will?

A good, question, child. Consider it loving nudges, but only for those who call upon them and seek them out with love.

This is hurting my head,
I said.

Then I suggest we end this meditation with a dive off my cliff.

I looked down into the sparkling silvery thread far below.

Won’t I die?

You are sitting in your Spirit Chair, are you not?

True,
I said, and laughed.

Then jump, daughter. I am waiting for you with open arms.

I hesitated for only a moment, then closed my eyes and leaped off the ledge. I arched up and out, suspended briefly in mid-air, then dropped like a rock. The water approached rapidly, and as it did, I straightened my body and aimed head first, hands together before me, and plunged into the ice-cold water. Bubbles swarmed around me as I sank deeper and deeper.

I gasped and opened my eyes, and found myself back in my bedroom, in the Spirit Chair, breathing hard and gripping the amethyst charm.

How it got into my hand, I didn’t know.

Chapter Twenty-two

I was nervous. Damn nervous.

It was the next morning, and I was still thinking about my experience with Mother Earth, digesting her concepts, and, most of all, feeling her love, when I pulled up to the last place that Penny Laurie had been seen alive: her elementary school.

I was here because of a dream. I’d dreamed I was in a clover field, sitting with Penny. She was nearby, painting a cute picture of Ren, from
The Ren & Stimpy Show
, which was a kind of a dog, I supposed. A chihuahua, I think. We were sitting quietly as she painted. All around us, bees were buzzing and birds were tweeting, and that’s when I woke up.

But I didn’t get up immediately. No, I’d spent many minutes in bed, thinking long and hard about the meaning of the dream, then finally decided to see what the dream could mean. I went straight to my dream dictionary and did my best to interpret the many images, but nothing seemed to resonate. Not the bees nor the dog nor the clover field. Nothing.

No, not quite nothing.

I dashed through my apartment and found the police summary of Penny’s case. In particular, the school she had gone to.

The last place she had been seen alive.

Her school was called, of course, Clover Field Elementary.

*  *  *

I parked in the visitor parking and wondered what the hell I was going to do next.

It made sense to retrace her footsteps to the last place she’d been seen alive. Except the police had done that. Anyone who was anyone, from fellow classmates to teachers, from the principal to the crosswalk guard, had been thoroughly interviewed. In fact, I’d read a summary of all of the interviews, and they all read the same: Penny had left school at the same time she always had to make the two-block walk to her home, which was literally just down the street. She had been in fifth grade, and her parents had deemed her old enough to safely walk home the short distance.

Of course, she had never made it home.

I stepped out of my car. The morning had warmed up considerably. The school itself had a high fence around it that looked like serious business. It also looked new. Penny’s murder might have had something to do with that.

I moved through the parking lot, reaching out psychically, trying to get a feel, a hit, anything. Nothing yet, but I was in the right place, I was sure of it. Lots of Mercedes and BMWs in the parking lot. Since when did teachers get paid so well?

I followed a footpath that led along the wrought iron fence, and walked toward the nearby residential street. Beyond the fence were rows of school buildings and an open grass field, complete with backstops and baseball diamonds. The school itself was quiet and peaceful. An airplane droned high overhead. That a girl had been abducted from here and murdered and discarded in a nearby playground was nearly incomprehensible.