Read Destiny's Gate Online

Authors: Lee Bice-Matheson,J.R. Matheson

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Ghost, #Fiction, #Thrillers

Destiny's Gate (2 page)

“Paige, my dear, I will answer all of your questions in time. Please come and sit in my communications room,” she said while pointing the way to a room on the right. Upon careful observation, it was devoid of any technological equipment. That’s ironic — a communications room and no computer, no phone, nothing? I wondered what she was talking about. “I’ll be right back. Oh and by the way, my name is
Peggy.”

As I turned around to respond, she was gone. The room was small and comfortable. I sat on a cushy rose-coloured floral loveseat opposite a large wooden rocking chair with a yellow throw and a footstool, covered by a needlepoint Siamese cat. Against the far wall stood an overly stuffed bookcase, with topics on the universe, spirituality, astrophysics and the supernatural. I thought,
who is this lady?
On the end table, was a steaming cup of green tea in a china cup, hand-painted with pink roses. I jumped in my seat. It was the same patterned cup as
grandma’s.

Peggy slowly entered the room and held my gaze as she sat in the rocking chair. Clearly it was her cherished place to sit, with a wonderful view behind me through a bay window to the street. Nothing could get by
her.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me. I’m ready now if you would like to ask me something.” She
smiled.

Peggy had such a compassionate manner about her. The wrinkles on her face reflected the wisdom earned throughout her lifetime. She reached out her hand, placing mine in hers. I felt a jolt of electricity and then a vision in my mind of grandpa with Peggy, smiling as they walked along a path surrounded by sunflowers. Then the vision flipped to a younger version of my mother and Peggy. Mom was sitting on the grass in the front of the cottage dressed in an earth tone embroidered skirt and matching blouse. Her long, auburn hair flipped occasionally in the gentle breeze, as she held out her hand to the butterflies that gracefully flew around her. A more youthful Peggy with blonde hair and blue eyes stood on the porch laughing. I yanked my hand
away.

“Don’t be alarmed, Paige. You have a gift, dear. Your mom has it, as does your grandfather…although he’ll deny it. It’s perfectly natural and normal to have this gift, just as some people like myself have blue eyes or someone like our national treasure, Celine Dion, has an angelic singing voice. There is nothing to be afraid of. You must be wondering why you sense things so
quickly?”

I was speechless in response to what Peggy had revealed. I sat still as she continued, not knowing how to
react.

“You are called a sensitive or intuitive. You use your sixth sense to interpret your surroundings.” Peggy sat back, placing her feet on the stool, and waited for my
response.

My pulse raced and I broke out into a clammy sweat as I answered, “I, I don’t know what to say…that sounds crazy. Why wouldn’t my mom tell me anything about this, about her or my grandpa?” My face became
flushed.

“Well, it’s not an easy subject to broach and she probably didn’t realize you have the gift, or didn’t want to acknowledge that you do,” replied Peggy in a softened tone. She studied me for a time and then said, “It’s a wonderful gift, Paige, if you know how to interpret it, how to control it and how to protect yourself. In fact, that’s why I called you here today. You need to know how to protect yourself from what’s called earthbound spirits, or ghosts, if you
prefer.”

I sat on the edge of the loveseat and asked her, “What exactly do you mean by that?” I was not really looking forward to the
answer.

“Why don’t you have a sip, dear,” Peggy suggested while gesturing with her hand. “It’s green tea, just how you like it, with a bit of honey.” Peggy shifted her feet onto the floor and started to rock slowly back and forth. It was hypnotic and I began to relax while tasting the tea. A sudden thought crossed my mind — if she had wanted to harm me in some way, she would have done so by
now.

I relaxed into the cushions and listened as she explained that people, like me, have a gift that enables the understanding of and communication with the supernatural world. It is a perception, an intuition, and often times spirits from the Other Side offer pertinent warnings or advice to help us along our best path in life. Sometimes, we hear strong, positive thoughts in our minds that seem to come out of nowhere, and if we act upon it, there is a wonderful outcome. We think it’s our own thought when in actual fact it’s a spirit guiding us from the Other Side. I listened in disbelief but at the same time, I finally felt normal. It was great to talk to someone who was like me. It felt freeing and wonderful, yet alarming at the same time, especially when Peggy finally explained what she meant by earthbound
spirits.

“Where there is a positive, there is a negative. And where there are enlightened spirits from the Other Side, there are low energy unenlightened spirits, the kind most people are afraid of — earthbounds, dear. We mere mortals call them ghosts or dark spirits.” Peggy
paused.

Staring into Peggy’s blue eyes, I noticed they were dilated and recognized the seriousness of the subject. I grasped the concept of the saying —
where there is good, there is evil
. Glancing at my watch, I was relieved to see it was 2:30 p.m.; school had ended for the day and it was an appropriate time to leave. The conversation was overwhelming to say the
least.

“Would you mind if I come back another day? I should be getting home. School’s out.” I needed time to digest the
information.

Peggy frowned then moved to the edge of the rocking chair and said, “Of course, Paige. It is a lot to take in, my child, but I didn’t get a chance to tell you what I needed to. Perhaps you can visit
again...tomorrow?”

“Need to tell me...what?” I asked while moving to the edge of the
loveseat.

“Before you walk out the door, I want you to repeat after me — I am surrounded by the white light and I am protected by the white light. Envision it circling around you. C’mon dear, say it,” she insisted. I repeated it again and again before she would let me
leave.

As I unlatched the gate, I looked back and a big
thank you
popped into my head. Peggy had a benevolent smile on her face and I returned it realizing she had sent the thought to me. I do have a gift that I needed to learn a lot more about, as quickly as possible. After the premonition, nightmares and evil spirits I had battled on the O’Brien estate, I was overjoyed Peggy was clearly the help I so desperately
needed.

“I’ll return tomorrow on my lunch hour at noon,” I
shouted.

I heard the reply in my mind. Peggy answered,
I’ll have a tuna sandwich waiting
. Upon receiving this message, I felt a bit queasy. What in the world was I supposed to believe was real or an illusion and how come this psychic phenomena is happening now while my parents are so far away? Can I rely on elderly Peggy to help sort this all out? A sense of dread hit me in the pit of my
stomach.

CHAPTER THREE

Meet Allan Brewer

Sprinting along the gravel road back to the O’Brien estate, my thoughts wandered to the hopes of finding grandpa sitting up in his bed with that beautiful big smile of his. Upon entering his bedroom, I was shocked to find him lying there listlessly while grandma sat painfully still, watching over him.
Here we go again
. Realizing she was not the one to ask about grandpa’s well-being, I searched throughout the manor to find Hanna. She was sitting on the landing of the black walnut staircase that had enchanted me from the first day when my family moved to the O’Brien estate. As I approached, I called her name twice while ascending the stairs. There was no reaction or acknowledgement from Hanna. It was as if she was in a
trance.

“Hanna, Hanna, what are you doing?” I exclaimed, puzzled by her behaviour. She was slumped over.

Standing two steps below her, I shook her twice, and with the third try, Hanna inhaled a deep breath and bolted upright. She looked startled to see
me.

“Paige, you almost gave me a heart attack! You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that, especially old people like me,” she snapped. “Now help me up, Paige. I need to get back to your grandfather right
away.”

Carefully, I stepped aside and aided Hanna by holding her right arm, allowing her to lean on me for support. For a second, our eyes met. She had an unfamiliar look, then broke her gaze and grabbed onto the banister while she darted down the stairs. I remained behind, wondering what had just happened. Hanna’s behaviour was strange. It hurt me to realize she was holding something back from
me.

Feeling helpless and alone, I made my way outside, through the kitchen door of the manor, and began to speed walk to the tranquility of the ancient forest to clear my mind. Thoughts of Peggy and her wild conclusion that I was somehow an intuitive, like mom and grandpa, had my head spinning. What was I to think? My stomach gurgled and churned and I felt dizzy. Was I the target of something in the supernatural world and would the spirits from the Other Side come to defend me when I needed them most? And who are these spirits? I did not have the answers to these questions. I really missed my parents at this point; a lump in my throat was the telltale
sign.

As I passed the guest house, continuing along the path towards the ridge, I began to calm down. How could I be so upset while the creatures of the enchanting forest called out to me? I could hear the blue jays’ shrill cries and the young cardinals’ faint chirping, a cry for survival to their parents. The babbling brook sounded louder than usual and I remembered to be careful crossing it at this time of year. Bradley Adam Parkman, my ex
-
boyfriend, teased me often about my fall into the brook and chided,
remember to use a stick for support
. And with that memory, I searched and found a sturdy tree branch that I assumed was knocked down in a storm. It was shaped like a cane and aided me in my quest as I navigated across the brook moving from stone to stone to reach the embankment on the opposite
side.

Scaling the ridge was always exciting because of the anticipation of the view. It was a glorious sunny day which encouraged me to climb the ridge as fast as I could. As I reached the top, I leaned over for a minute to catch my breath and then straightened up and gazed over the estate; it was breathtaking. The sprawling manor made the guest house look like a gingerbread house in
comparison.

I glanced in the opposite direction at the seemingly miniscule, dilapidated cottage. With squinted eyes, it looked as if something was atop the cottage roof. Startled, I held my gaze in order to focus better but the sun’s rays distorted my view. It looked like a large, black dog and as I stared at it, it seemed to return my gaze. Goosebumps raged from head to toe. Fearful this was yet another bad omen, I decided to retreat and turned to descend the ridge. And as I turned, I heard a loud,
no don’t go,
in my mind. Against my better judgement, and almost against my will, I climbed down the ridge towards the cottage; an old phrase mom gleefully referenced from time to time popped into my head:
Curiosity killed the cat
. I pictured mom who was five foot nothing, hands on hips, saying this old expression; it provided a brief interlude and made me laugh.

Thinking back to the first encounter with Conall at this exact cottage should have given me just cause to leave the valley. Something drove me forward, step by step, through the sunflowers and tall grasses. Their heavy scent bothered me. I hurried to the picnic table where my first conversation with Conall had occurred. As I looked up at the roof, I was startled. A guy in his twenties, with a dark brown moustache, long sideburns and the most piercing, black eyes I had ever seen, stared down at me. For a fleeting moment, his eyes reminded me of Bradley’s. He was also tall like Brad but with a more muscular build in the arms, chest and legs; apparent by his tightly fitted gothic
clothes.

“Sorry, did I spook you? I’m new to this area and I was trying to get a look around the grounds and found the best way was to climb up here.” His muscles rippled across his body as he scurried down the side of the cottage using the chimney blocks to scale his way to safety. Before I knew it, he was right in front of me. He startled me so I pinched him thinking he was another ghost, like
Conall.

“Ouch,” he cried as he rubbed his forearm. “What did you do that for? I’m not going to hurt
you!”

“Sorry, but I had to see if you were...” I lowered my
head.

“See if I was what? Real? I am real. What’s your name?” he asked, in a kinder tone, as he tossed his head
back.

“Paige...yours?” I looked
away.

“Allan Brewer, Paige. Say, I’m looking for work around here. Do you know of
any?”

I studied him, hesitating before responding and then said, “I’m not sure. Maybe talk to Dexter. He works for my grandparents. He might
know.”

My thoughts raced.
Where did Allan come from, and who is he
? I backed up a step and as I did, I noticed a crescent moon tattooed on his upper arm above his elbow. As I stared at it, Allan self-consciously pulled his black shirt sleeve down and asked where he could find
Dexter.

Abruptly, I turned towards the ridge. “I’ve got to get back to my grandparents, Allan. The sun will soon be swallowed up by the
trees.”

Allan followed me. “Okay, sure, Paige. If you don’t mind, a gentleman always escorts a lady, especially in a remote forest, back to her
home.”

I shot Allan a look of unease. His furrowed eyebrows led me to believe he was genuine. “If you insist,” I
said.

As we walked along, side by side, Allan said, “I love working in nature especially replenishing forests that have suffered from severe fires. After all, a tree planter’s job is hard work, slugging it out for ten to twelve hour days. And I’ve met the most interesting people. Some are even girls, you know...tree planters, I
mean.”

I laughed aloud. “Girls can plant trees too, huh? What a novel
idea.”

Allan studied me, and then replied, “Oh, you are making fun of me. I’m often surprised that girls want to do a man’s
job.”

On his admission, I thought to myself —
what century are you
from?

“I pick up and leave when the spirit moves me. I feel lucky to be a free spirit in a society that condones it with all the rules and computers. I do not understand technology at
all.”

“You are different from anyone else I’ve ever met, Allan. Most people love the internet and social media. I, myself, am an outdoors girl and would rather walk in the forest than sit inside facebooking all day.” I smiled at Allan. Finally, I had met someone who appreciated nature as much as I did. “Besides, I want to be away from EMF as much as I
can.”

“EM...what?” Allan
asked.

“EMF — radiation, silly, from laptops or cell phones.” I chuckled to myself and thought Allan seemed harmless
enough.

We climbed the ridge and as we descended on the other side, Allan insisted on offering his arm for support. I smiled again as I reflected on the number of times I had done this solo, but
acquiesced.

I guided him to the back entrance of the guest house through the stone archway laden with vines, or ‘the portal’, as I had nicknamed it, to the estate. The towering trees brought me back to the peaceful feeling I had when I first saw them. It was an ancient, undisturbed forest that always seemed to be in communication, as tree branches swayed back and forth in the
wind.

Dexter flung the back door open and scowled at Allan and then at me. “Well, who do we have here, Paige? You shouldn’t bring home strays,” he
commanded.

Strays? What a peculiar word to use
. “It’s all right, Dexter. This is Allan and he’s looking for work.” Ignoring Dexter’s glowering face, I continued, “Any work he can
get.”

Allan jumped in and said, “Top of the morning to you...well it seems like morning. I just woke up before I met Paige here. Any work you may have...landscaping or handyman, I’m your
man.”

I observed Dexter as he studied Allan at length. His kind green eyes looked menacing now, and his goatee and tattoo made him appear gruff, and not so romantically mysterious. The unidentified tattoo on his upper arm did not help and made me think of the stranger’s tat. My thoughts were rudely
interrupted.

Dexter uttered, “The O’Brien’s need a groundskeeper.” He turned and nodded to me as he continued, “I’ll speak to your grandparents about it.” His body relaxed and his face had softened. He gave a salute and said, “Well, I have work to do.” Dexter
vanished.

I did not have the chance to tell him that grandpa had another spell. Truthfully, Dexter gave me the creeps lately especially since the day the family photo was taken. It never let me forget something was off about
him.

“That went over well,” Allan said, gesturing with his arms in the air. “When do you suppose I’ll hear back from Dexter? Or will I?” Allan scratched his
head.

Advising Allan that Dexter would let him know in a few days, Allan announced he was going to stay at the condemned cottage, with my approval of course. I assured him it should be fine. Amidst the chaos at the manor who would
notice?

Allan smiled and said, “You know where I am. Come and see me anytime.” He touched my hand. Our connection created a shock so vivid, I saw a blue spark. As Allan withdrew his hand, I spied a strange marking on his palm. His eyes locked on mine and then he looked
away.

I had butterflies in my stomach and thought,
he’s not from around here at all
. His hand seemed on fire unlike mine which felt clammy. Allan quickly dashed off through the portal towards the ridge and I was left standing alone and anxious.
Is Allan a good man or
not?

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