Rivercreek Crossing

Chapter 32

“I don’t know.” Mr. Caldwell looked down at his knees when he spoke and Reese got the distinct feeling he was holding back.

“Dad, you said he was going to kill me. Why did you say that?” She rubbed his arm in a comforting motion.

Mr. Caldwell shifted his gaze from his knees to Reese’s hand, but he said nothing. Paul, Wayne, and Reese all stared on at Mr. Caldwell as if he would divulge some top secret inormation.

When the silence dragged on for a full minute, Paul said in Wayne’s direction, “Do you know why he attacked you? And don’t tell me some bullshit that he’s crazy. I’m getting kind of tired of this little game of charades.”

Wayne stretched his shoulders back and jutted out his chin. “Why don’t you ask my father? Isn’t that what you came for, Mr. Medium?”

Paul released the knife so it was flat on the table. His face stiffened and his stare-hold on Wayne never sway as he said, “Put the chairs around the table, Wayne, and pray to God your father doesn’t have something to say that you don’t want us to hear. Reese, stay with your father while I’m in the kitchen. Make sure he doesn’t kill your guest.” Paul snatched up the chef’s knife and turned his back on his audience. None of them moved as Paul made his way to the kitchen. It wasn’t until he made a racket gathering all of the knives from the butcher block, tossing them into the dishwasher, and slamming the door, that they jumped into action. Wayne and Reese placed the chairs around the table, each exactly the same distance from one another. The microwave whirred to life in the kitchen and pretty quickly the aroma of warm bakery goods wafted into the living room.

Paul returned with a plate of steaming muffins and the plastic bag of candles. He placed the plate in the middle of the table and then strategically set the candles around the plate. He lit one and then used it to light the other three. As he busied himself with his chores, the attendees all watched. Reese for one was fascinated and asked, “What’s with the muffins, Paul?”

Without looking up from staging the table, Paul said, “I have had luck with using props to draw spirits at a séance. Spirits who were once human are often drawn to pleasant scents and lights, same as when they were alive. They serve as a beacon if you will.” He balled up the plastic bag and tossed it under the table.

“Before we proceed, I must ask,” Paul started and lightly placed his fingertips on the table as he glanced from one person to another, “are you each willing to participate in this séance with an open-mind?” He stopped glancing around once he was looking at Reese. She nodded in agreement.  He slowly gave her a reassuring nod back and shifted his attention to Mr. Caldwell. Reese’s father didn’t engage eye contact. Paul waited a few respectable seconds and then said, “Mr. Caldwell?”

Reese looked over to her dad. He nervously traced the bruised cheek and she fought the instinct to touch her own bruised forehead.

“Landon?” Paul said authoritatively.

Mr. Caldwell lifted his head and looked at Paul. “Open-minded,” he said.

“Very good,” Paul offered a small smile to the older man but Mr. Caldwell looked away before he could register it.

Paul rotated his head to Wayne who looked only a little bit uneasy. Wayne twisted his body back and forth with his hands jammed further into his front pockets. “Wayne? Can you proceed with this séance with an open-mind?”

Wayne pulled his right hand from his pocket and rubbed his chin. He looked at Paul and then over to Reese. “What does that mean? Open-minded?”

Although he seemed to be addressing Reese, Paul answered and Wayne rotated his attention to him. “It means you are open-minded to receive possible messages from spirits who have passed. It means you can participate and not be negative during the course of the séance.”