Asking My Ghosts for Help

Well, the way I work it, I probably should have titled this "demanding my ghosts help me," since I do enforce a measure of discipline for my paranormal boarders. I'll admit right up front, some of the missing items around my house are my own fault. But not all of them.

I couldn't even begin to count how many times I've gone to where I put something and found it missing. These are places I use because I am a bit anal about being able to find things when I need them. I worked as a legal assistant and paralegal for many years, and misplacing something could cost not only money, but client distress. Heaven forbid the high-dollar lawyer be responsible for keeping track of files, information, and court dates.

Things do tend to get moved when I end up having a new prankster in residence. The prankster delights in laughing while I search, as well as watching me discover things in unexpected places. But he usually gets the item back to me quickly when I threaten banishment or another form of discipline. What happened this week, however, was partially my own fault for ignoring a message. However, it turned into a cool incident.

I'd been doing some consecrations, using the training my friend Katrina gave me. I also sat down one day and made up a dozen and a half new protection packets, since Katrina informed me they can lose their effectiveness after a year. Prior to that, I re-consecrated the few remaining ones I had, also.

I had some loose crystals and a divining crystal out, too, for the consecration ceremony. Afterwards, I reorganized my two satchels to contain the new items and some recent purchases, things I'd learned from my friend and research would work well for what I do. For some reason, I had those crystals on my mind, and I could not find them in either my trusty satchel I'd had for years or the new one I bought that is made from sea grass. I took everything out of both satchels … three times! The crystals in their velvet bag were gone.

Friday, I taught my Psychic Development Class; the lesson: how to do consecrations. I'd asked the class members to bring some things they wanted blessed, and they consecrated their own items. Then James and Armando, our Lonestar Paranormal friends, stayed over for a while and we talked. Ghosts, natch. And the paranormal. At one point, we were discussing crystals.

"That reminds me," I said, looking around the room to speak to the ghosts who had been hanging around while we chatted, one of whom was Howard, my Head Ghost. "I still can't find my crystals and I want to know what one of you did with them. Give them back to me or tell me where to find them. Now!"

I heard a telepathic laugh, but James started talking about something just then. But Armando, gasped and said, "Excuse me," to interrupt his friend.

"What?" I asked, noticing he was looking past my shoulder.

"I saw a bright ball of light or energy in there," he said, pointing into my guest room, which was in his line of vision. He circled his fingers to indicate it was perhaps the size of a soccer ball. "It floated up from right above those gift bags you have sitting on that trunk at the foot of the bed. Then it went over towards your window and disappeared right before it got to the curtains."

By the time we got done looking into that cool phenomena, I'd forgotten my demand of the resident ghosts. But those missing crystals still bothered me. So after the guys left, I took out both my satchels and went through them … again! As I was putting things back … again ….

They're in your ghost hunting vest, I heard Howard say.

I've had this happen too many times to ignore it, especially when it's Howard. I immediately got up and went into the guest bedroom (where Armando had seen this ball of energy). I have been gathering things together for our overnight investigation next week, and they cover most of that bed right now. There was my vest, right beside those two gift bags I have ready for a birthday party Sunday, and right under where Armando said he saw the energy ball. And yes, there in the pocket was my velvet bag of crystals!

"Awesome," I said. "Thank you. And I’m sorry I accused any of y'all. I remember putting the bag in that pocket myself. But I've been hunting for these for several days. Why didn't you tell me where they were before now?"

You didn't ask, Howard, my ghost of few words, said.

"You're right," I said. "So thanks again."

I had to admit to myself, though, he had tried. Right after I made my demand, Armando saw that ball of energy above where the crystals were. But Howard had to beat me over the head with the information by telling me "aloud." Way cool.

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I'm putting the Kindle version of Dead Man Talking free next Friday through Sunday. I'll remind everyone when it happens. So keep an eye out and tell your friends they can get one free. But the others still cost $$!

Boo!

T. M.