after me than Aunt Alice. It was probably more on account of him than anything else that I survived through my parents'... departure."
Nicole wore a gold hairband that drew back the curtain of her auburn hair. Like our first meeting, I couldn't help admiring the contours of her face, how effortlessly and unconsciously pretty she was. I tugged compulsively at my lip ring, wishing I could have that for myself.
"I was just fourteen years old when Charlie came into my life. It was like I conjured him, like a genie or a fairy godfather or somethin'. But I sure did need him at the time.
"You see, when I was about twelve years old, guess who should start to visit me but Santa Claus. Old St. Nick himself! Oh, Cali, you shoulda seen him. He was skinnier than I'd imagined, but with a fluffy white, full beard and intense black eyes. And, whenever I was sad or lonely or needed someone to talk to, Santa would appear and comfort me. He was a real good listener.
"Then when I was in the eighth grade and I started to, you know, develop." She gestured toward her breasts. "Santa started to materialize in the room when I was changing or taking a shower. Then one night when I was in the bathtub, he appeared to me as I was taking a bath and asked me to do things to myself that I didn't feel comfortable doin', you know, in front of other people.
"And that's when it hit me. This wasn't Santa Claus! This was some white-bearded, no account spirit who was tellin' me he was Santa Claus." She shuddered. "That's when I called out for help. I mean, I prayed like I never prayed before. And that's when Charlie shows up. He's like this old, very wise looking Chinese man with a long Fu Manchu mustache. I can't pronounce his real name, so I just call him Charlie, after my favorite storybook detective, Charlie Chan"
"That story is pretty creepy, Nicole."
"Gives me the willies every time I think about it."
"So this Charlie, he said we'd be friends, then."
"Yeah, that first day when you walked into the sunroom. Charlie is there for all my readings on account of I'm so terrified of doing it. Anyway, he stands like right behind me to my left and as soon as you walked into the room he says to me, 'She's a nice girl. You two are gonna be very good friends.'"
I chuckled uneasily. "'Nice girl.' Maybe he doesn't know me so well, then."
Nicole smiled, a true radiant smile. "I wouldn't say that. Charlie hasn't let me down yet."
Her eyes locked on mine and for what seemed like a full minute I gazed back at her, long after I should have looked away. Something in the center of my body was falling, falling, similar to the feeling before projecting out-of-body. Who was this girl?
"You can ask me your question," Nicole said without lowering her eyes. "It's okay, sweetie. Really."
I hesitated only a moment. I started by telling her about my sleep paralysis issues that started after my brother died, the sense of a presence in the room, how terrifying it was. Then I moved on to the out-of-body experiences that started, coincidentally, the day I had the reading with her. I explained the recurring places and people I'd visit, especially the old man I called The Butler. "I want to make it stop," I told her. "I need to make it stop. My life is messed up enough without having to deal with this."
"I don't think having out-of-body experiences is anything all that unusual," she said. "I think what's significant, though, is your rememberin' 'em. Why now, of all times?"
"Nicole!"
We jumped simultaneously. Aunt Alice stood on the back patio near the open French doors looking as prim and well-dressed as she had on every occasion I'd seen her. She grinned through gritted teeth. "May I have a word with you?"
Nicole smiled at me uncomfortably. She had gone from a relaxed but poised reclining posture to something stiff and self-conscious. "Just a minute," she said quietly. "I'll be back in two shakes."
She moved reluctantly toward her aunt. Alice hissed for several breaths.
Nicole wore a gold hairband that drew back the curtain of her auburn hair. Like our first meeting, I couldn't help admiring the contours of her face, how effortlessly and unconsciously pretty she was. I tugged compulsively at my lip ring, wishing I could have that for myself.
"I was just fourteen years old when Charlie came into my life. It was like I conjured him, like a genie or a fairy godfather or somethin'. But I sure did need him at the time.
"You see, when I was about twelve years old, guess who should start to visit me but Santa Claus. Old St. Nick himself! Oh, Cali, you shoulda seen him. He was skinnier than I'd imagined, but with a fluffy white, full beard and intense black eyes. And, whenever I was sad or lonely or needed someone to talk to, Santa would appear and comfort me. He was a real good listener.
"Then when I was in the eighth grade and I started to, you know, develop." She gestured toward her breasts. "Santa started to materialize in the room when I was changing or taking a shower. Then one night when I was in the bathtub, he appeared to me as I was taking a bath and asked me to do things to myself that I didn't feel comfortable doin', you know, in front of other people.
"And that's when it hit me. This wasn't Santa Claus! This was some white-bearded, no account spirit who was tellin' me he was Santa Claus." She shuddered. "That's when I called out for help. I mean, I prayed like I never prayed before. And that's when Charlie shows up. He's like this old, very wise looking Chinese man with a long Fu Manchu mustache. I can't pronounce his real name, so I just call him Charlie, after my favorite storybook detective, Charlie Chan"
"That story is pretty creepy, Nicole."
"Gives me the willies every time I think about it."
"So this Charlie, he said we'd be friends, then."
"Yeah, that first day when you walked into the sunroom. Charlie is there for all my readings on account of I'm so terrified of doing it. Anyway, he stands like right behind me to my left and as soon as you walked into the room he says to me, 'She's a nice girl. You two are gonna be very good friends.'"
I chuckled uneasily. "'Nice girl.' Maybe he doesn't know me so well, then."
Nicole smiled, a true radiant smile. "I wouldn't say that. Charlie hasn't let me down yet."
Her eyes locked on mine and for what seemed like a full minute I gazed back at her, long after I should have looked away. Something in the center of my body was falling, falling, similar to the feeling before projecting out-of-body. Who was this girl?
"You can ask me your question," Nicole said without lowering her eyes. "It's okay, sweetie. Really."
I hesitated only a moment. I started by telling her about my sleep paralysis issues that started after my brother died, the sense of a presence in the room, how terrifying it was. Then I moved on to the out-of-body experiences that started, coincidentally, the day I had the reading with her. I explained the recurring places and people I'd visit, especially the old man I called The Butler. "I want to make it stop," I told her. "I need to make it stop. My life is messed up enough without having to deal with this."
"I don't think having out-of-body experiences is anything all that unusual," she said. "I think what's significant, though, is your rememberin' 'em. Why now, of all times?"
"Nicole!"
We jumped simultaneously. Aunt Alice stood on the back patio near the open French doors looking as prim and well-dressed as she had on every occasion I'd seen her. She grinned through gritted teeth. "May I have a word with you?"
Nicole smiled at me uncomfortably. She had gone from a relaxed but poised reclining posture to something stiff and self-conscious. "Just a minute," she said quietly. "I'll be back in two shakes."
She moved reluctantly toward her aunt. Alice hissed for several breaths.
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