The Calling. Kim O'Neill

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СКАЧАТЬ approval. Your life will be so much easier when—”

      “Of course I care about what other people think! Unlike you, I live on the earthly plane with them. I’m not going to do it, John. I can’t.”

      “Okay,” he shrugged. “I just wanted you to tell him that his sister is ill and needs to go to a doctor.”

      “Doesn’t the sister know that already?”

      “No, she doesn’t. Some illnesses do not have classic, telltale symptoms.”

      “Like what kind of illness?”

      “Cancer.”

      “Oh . . . ” I answered in a small voice. My aunt had recently died of the disease, and her passing was horrific. At first, she complained of a chest cold and a cough that wouldn’t go away, but she never connected those symptoms with cancer. She finally went to the doctor, who diagnosed bronchitis and sent her home with a prescription for an antibiotic. The disease quickly spread throughout her body like wildfire, finally reaching her brain. The woman who had been so vibrant and beautiful was left incapacitated and bedridden, and she spent the last weeks of her life muttering to herself incoherently. Aunt Patsy died in a world all her own, having lost the capacity to recognize any of the loved ones who hovered around her bedside.

      “What would I have to do?” I asked in a resigned tone.

      “Just pass along exactly what you hear from me.”

      “You make it sound so simple.”

      “It is.”

      “Okay, let’s just get this over with before I come to my senses. Maybe the doorman won’t be here today? Maybe I won’t be able to find him? You know I have to get to work, so I can’t wait around.”

      “He’s here. Stop stalling.” And with that, I stepped out of the elevator and literally bumped into the man we had been discussing. I got the goose bumps sensation again—and I suddenly had the distinct impression that the universe somehow meant the two of us to have contact that very morning. I didn’t know if it was nerves or one of my characteristic blond moments, but I couldn’t recall his name in spite of the fact that I frequently said hello to him.

      “Hello . . . Pete?” I stammered.

      “I’m Sam,” he replied with a puzzled expression.

      “Sam! Of course, Sam. I’m sorry.”

      “You stressed out today? Anything I can do for you?” he asked kindly.

      “Oh, no . . . I’m just on my way to the office! You know . . . where I work. I . . . I . . . think I’m late. Well . . . good bye, Pete!” I hurried through the door.

      Go Back. Now! John insisted. I stopped in my tracks. You said you would do it. Aren’t you a person of your word?

      Damn! Why, oh why, did I promise? I took a deep breath, turned around, and walked back to the unsuspecting doorman.

      “Forget something?” Sam asked.

      “Uhmmm, yes, actually . . . ” I stood woodenly, eyes darting this way and that, not knowing how to proceed. My heart started to pound, and my breathing sounded labored.

      “Are you okay?” he inquired, now looking worried.

      I simply nodded.

      John started to speak. Just repeat after me . . .

      “Just repeat after me,” I said to Sam, who furrowed his brow in confusion. John winced. I quickly surmised that I wasn’t supposed to repeat that. Too late now!

      Your sister needs surgery, John said. Right away.

      “Your sister needs surgery. Right away.” Sam looked extremely surprised. As virtual strangers, he had never discussed his personal life with me.

      Not the one in New York—I’m referring to Karen, the sister in Florida.

      As I repeated what John was saying telepathically, the doorman’s eyes widened. He stood rooted to the spot, oblivious to the other people coming and going.

      “There is a hazardous growth developing in her left breast. The lump is pre-cancerous and has to be removed . . . now.”

      With that, Sam took several steps away from me. He was clearly frightened.

      “You must call her this afternoon,” I continued. “She’s depressed because of her marital problems, and she needs to hear from her big brother. You’ll make her laugh, like you always do. Then you need to tell her about the cancer. You’re going to save her life with that phone call.”

      I proceeded to tell him that the psychic information he was receiving was courtesy of my guardian angel, John Reid. Poor Sam looked like someone who had just undergone electric shock treatments.

      “But I don’t understand,” he replied, looking frightened, shocked, and suspicious. “How did you know I had a sister? And how did you know she was in Florida?” Then, raising his voice, he sputtered indignantly, “Karen doesn’t have cancer! And she doesn’t have marital problems, either! What’s wrong with you? Are you some kind of nut case?” And with that, the doorman turned and strode away from me.

      I stood there staring dumbly, beet red with embarrassment, still clutching my purse and briefcase. I literally had no clue about what to do next. Should I chase after him and apologize? But that might scare him even more and make things worse—if that was possible. I would never deliberately hurt or scare anyone, and I felt miserable.

      “Kim, good work! I’m proud of you,” John exclaimed happily.

      “Why did you make me do that? Did you see how upset he was?”

      “I didn’t make you do anything. It was your choice. And you did admirably—except for saying ‘repeat after me.’ That wasn’t the most auspicious beginning,” John chuckled with amusement.

      “Don’t you dare laugh at me! Because of you and your cockamamie psychic predictions, I just scared the hell out of that man.”

      “May I submit to you that if you had remained quiet and his sister had gotten malignant cancer, that would have scared the hell out of him.”

      “You always have a glib answer for everything,” I hissed, tears flooding my eyes. I didn’t know why, but besides feeling humiliated, I felt incredibly emotional. The tears started to stream down my face, and I clumsily dug through my purse for a tissue.

      John tried to reassure me. “If I know Sam, and I think I do, he’ll get over it pretty quickly. That’s why I picked him as a test subject for you.”

      “So you look at human beings as nothing more than guinea pigs in the cosmic experiments you’re conducting?”

      “You’re taking a rather melodramatic point of view. You asked for proof and now you have it. Remember what Oscar Wilde once said: ‘Be careful what you wish for . . . because you may get it.’ Did I ever tell you СКАЧАТЬ