Read Online The Crossover by E. Clay - Free Book Online

reached in her purse and grabbed a ten dollar bill. We got within a few feet of the woman and it was like a standoff.
    “Excuse me, ma’am, is there something you need?”
    Monet offered her the money.
    “I don’t want your money, but thank you for your kindness.”
    Monet placed the money back into her purse and grabbed my hand.
    “I saw your demonstration after the show.”
    “Oh, what did you think?” I asked feeling a little more relaxed.
    “It was a mockery,” the lady replied.
    She drew closer to us. Monet stepped behind me.
    The old woman had an energy that was almost electric. I could feel her aura. It was strong but I was not afraid.
    “You have the gift, yet you don’t believe.”
    She said it as if she felt sorry for me.
    “I don’t believe because it’s not real. I’m proof of that. I admit it, I’m a fake. But at least I didn’t rob those people of their hard-earned money.”
    The old woman noticed my watch on my right arm.
    “Your watch. May I see it?”
    “Ahh, sure.”
    She examined my watch and then closed her eyes. I looked at Monet, she shrugged her shoulders.
    The old woman opened her eyes and let go of my arm.
    “You are not the original owner of the watch. It has two previous owners before you.”
    I pulled my sleeve down over my watch and had a hard time looking directly at her. Her eyes were piercing right through me.
    She was right. But how?
    “The watch belonged to my dad, and his dad before that. How’d you know that?”
    “You see, when we come in contact with items, like jewelry we imprint on them, leaving a recording behind.”
    “Okay, where do you fit in all this?” I asked.
    She smiled at the both of us.
    “Me? I am the tape player.”
    The woman’s eyes cast on Monet.
    “Child, I see it in your eyes. You believe.”
    Monet looked away and held onto my hand. She did not confirm or deny.
    “Don’t look away, I mean you no harm.”
    Monet gazed into the old woman’s piercing brown eyes.
    The old woman studied Monet intently.
    “I see you are reacquainted with an old love. I also see your heart is guarded like a fortress.”
    Monet was reeled in by the woman’s uncanny accuracy.
    “Yes, we met over twenty years ago and now it looks like we’re back in each other’s lives,” Monet responded excitedly.
    “No, child. The love you share with him is an old love from another past, long before this life. Soulmates are destined to be together.”
    This woman, whoever she was, had almost a celestial presence about her. She was too wise for this world.
    “Okay. If this spirit stuff is real, explain one thing to me. Why is it that only a few spirits return?”
    “Spirits can be troubled and may not be ready to transition. Especially if their lives were cut short or if there was trauma in death.”
    Monet interjected.
    “I believe that.”
    I was captivated and very much intrigued by this wise old soul.
    “Well, if it’s true that spirits can return then...” I choked on my words.
    “Your father?” the old woman replied.
    “Yes. My father would have. I know he would’ve.”
    “How many times does a father peep outside the kitchen window to check on his child playing? How many times does a mother check on her sleeping baby? But the child is unaware. Your father has not abandoned you. You need to know that.”
    It was getting to deep for me. I needed to go.
    “Well, it’s been nice talking to you, but we have a long drive home. If you’ll excuse us.”
    The woman moved aside and continued to smile. I don’t think she blinked the entire time we talked.
    Monet and I buckled ourselves in and I started the car. There was a tap on the window; I lowered the window.
    “I didn’t catch your name, but we’re in a hurry.”
    “I’m Winnie. I have a message, from your father.”
    I was paralyzed from the waist up. A part of me wanted to burn rubber and get the hell away from her. But there was another part of me that said, “What if?”
    The woman stuck her head