Shadowing My Dreams (Haunted Hearts)

Chapter 4

4

Archie

“ Y ou’ll need to burn this all around the house. Make sure that you get it into the corners and closets. If you have an attic space, try to get as much smoke as you can into it.” I waved the stick around to make sure she understood. “You can chant the blessing as you walk with the smudge stick, but without being there and seeing if I sense anything, I can’t guarantee that this will do anything.” I shrugged from behind the small counter at the front of my store, where I sold the hippy-dippy bullshit that most people bought.

“I just want to bless the new house and make sure to get rid of any of the old energy that might be hanging around.” She grinned as I handed her the bag. She was cute but had no idea what she was doing. “This works for that, right?”

“It’s one of those traditions that’s been passed down for generations. If it’s just a blessing that you’re looking for, this should be fine.” She was just another young person doing something she heard about on TikTok. “That is all you’re doing, right?”

“Yeah, I just heard that the lady who lived there before me was pretty nasty, so I don’t want any of her energy lingering around. I don’t need no bad juju.”

“Did she die there?” I asked slowly, wondering if this could be more than she was letting on.

“Oh, God, no!” She giggled. “She apparently moved to Arizona.”

“So, no ghosts? You had said that…”

“Oh, I meant her. Not ghosts. I’ve never actually seen a… I think I would just move out.” She scrunched up her face. “I’ve seen enough scary movies to want any part of that shit.”

“This is exactly what you’re looking for. Blessings to you,” I added happily. “Happy housewarming.”

“Thank you,” she grinned again and then walked out of the store into the bright, sunshiny day that we were having in October. I preferred my fall to be much more gloomy and overcast. I longed for trees to change color and leaves to fall to the ground. Here in WeHo, the palm trees stayed green, and the weather had yet to shift to the cooler climate I preferred.

I missed Vermont. My parents still lived there. I sometimes forgot why I wanted to leave. Here, most of the time, all I didwas long for real seasons instead of a perpetual summer all year long. But the East Coast was old and full of spirits. I had hoped that I wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed here, and I’d been right, for the most part. But death was everywhere, and the Grim Reaperdidn’t care what season it was or what side of the coast you were on.

I glanced out the window and sighed. Muscle boys in tank tops were walking by and glancing in the window before laughing and walking off. I shuddered. I was used to it. Hell, I was grateful that they had the option of not believing. It was safer for that to be the case. Most spirits could rarely hurt or touch someone, but just the realization that they were real – the experience of knowing that the dead could still walk with us – it changed you to your very core. I had seen too many people go into a deep depression because of that knowledge. Not everyone was meant to see the other side. Most humans weren’t prepared, even if they did think they truly believed.

Believing and seeing – experiencing a real haunting – were two very different things.

The windows rattled and caught me by surprise. Fucking Santa Anna winds! Sometimes, their gusts came so suddenly that they could almost knock you off your feet. It was also a warm wind coming off the deserts, and it sucked. The one thing we didn’t need was more heat. Fall was just barely a thought in Los Angeles. It might feel like fall for a coupleof weeks, but then it just became LA winter, which meant it could be anywhere between eighty and sixty, depending on the day. At least at night, I could wear warmer clothes.

I could at least pretend. I loved sweater weather and was happiest in a wooly cardigan.

I walked through the small doorway at the back of the shop and grabbed a few more of the smudge sticks. I made sure to keep plenty in stock. At twenty bucks a pop and selling ten a day, they were a decent seller. All of this shit was junk. The trinkets, the crystals, and the herbs that helped peoplefeel safer did almost nothing when faced with real paranormal happenings. Smudging your house could actually piss off the spirits and make them lash out. I tried to guide people, but for those who didn’t want to believe, there was little I could do. So, I sold them the crap I carried to keep my small business afloat.

I made most of my money dealing with the real issues of the few people who came through these doors, terrified of what they were experiencing. I wish I didn’t have to charge them anything. I wished I could have helped the trapped spirits for free, but I had bills to pay and food to put on the table.

I grabbed as many of the sticks as I could in my arms. I would need to order more soon.

The little bell above my door went off, and I sighed. Please don’t want a psychic reading , I silently begged before walking out and seeing a very handsome, tall, black man standing inside, looking and feeling completely out of place. His energy was scattered and… He was scared. He glanced over his shoulder at the people passing by and laughing on the street. He was embarrassed to be seen in here.

“Good morning. How can I help you?” I asked as I walked past him and over to the shelf. I placed them down quickly and turned to him.

He shuffled in place and stared down at the floor. “My… uh… my friend is having a problem, and uh…”

I took a step forward. He looked so rigid as he stood there with his head held low – he couldn’t look me in the eye. Everything about him emanated grey like a cloak draped over him. He was scared – but it wasn’t for himself.

“What kind of problem? I’m… uh… Archie, by the way.” I held out my hand, and he paused before slowly reaching out and shaking it.

Contact.

He believed in what he saw, but he didn’t know what to do. He felt frozen and was worried about… his friend, I assumed. It wasn’t himself that he was concerned about – I could feel that from his energy. But it was someone close to him. A lover, perhaps?

“Yeah, I… Daveed. Nice to meet you. So, this is your place? You’re a psychic?”

“Something like that.”

“It says that you can help with hauntings on your sign. It says ‘ghost problems – help inside,’ is that true?”

“You have a ghost problem?”

“No! Not me, I…” He held his hands up and waved them around wildly. He really was scared. It consumed him.

“You really don’t have anything to fear. I’m not going to judge you or anything. That’s not my job. But I can’t help if I don’t know what the issue is,” I said calmly.

“I think my friend has a ghost in his house,” he blurted. There it was – the reason for him coming in. I was afraid I was going to have to coax it out of him. He believed there was a ghost himself. He had seen something.

“What makes you think that? Please, tell me what’s happening and I will tell you what it is I can or cannot do.” I gestured over to my counter and walked behind it. Maybe some distance between us would help him.

“Last night, we… I called him, and he saidhe had lost his phone. He swears that he didn’t carry his phone upstairs. He said he hadn’t gone up there at all, and he had been looking for it. I called, and he followed the sound upstairs to his bedroom. The phone was on the fucking windowsill.”

I nodded. “Spirits have a hard time moving objects. It takes a lot of energy for them to be able to do that. You’re sure that he didn’t go up and forget that he left it there?”

“I… No, I’m not sure. But I believe him. He’s just not the kind of guy who would normally forget something like that, you know?” He sighed heavily and leaned one arm on my counter.

“Go on. Anything else?”

“He’s been seeing shadows moving in the periphery of his eyes – you know – off to the side.”

“Yes, I… I know what that means.” I smiled, trying to make this easier for him. He was really wound up and having a hard time telling me about it. That was because he believed everything he was saying, and he didn’t want to. It made him uneasy, as it should. There was something in his past that caused this. But what?

“Sorry, I… I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” He laughed but there was no mirth in the sound.

“Are you a believer? In ghosts, I mean.”

“Yes.” He bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath. “I lived in a house that was haunted when I was a kid. Nothing serious happened, I guess. But we could see her every now and then like a fine mist walking through the house. It’s… It was my grandmother, and I’ve never forgotten.”

“You saw something last night yourself, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “More like heard something. We were downstairs, and we heard a loud bang. When we got upstairs to his bedroom, one of his chest drawers was lying on its side, and all of the contents were scattered around the room. It was fucking freaky.”

“Could it have fallen out? Maybe it was loose?” I needed to ask everything. I had been punked a few times and didn’t enjoy it. But I could see that he was not kidding. He was very serious.

“No. It was a body length away from the chest. It looked like someone pulled it out and threw it.”

“Once again, that’s… that would take a certain type of energy. Has your friend experienced anything else?” The spirit had to have something to feed off of. Usually, it was a person if this kind of stuff was happening. Poltergeists usually thrived on making people’s emotions wild and chaotic.

“He said he heard a whisper.”

I widened my eyes. “Could he understand it?” I asked incredulously. This was very rare for a non-psychic to hear a ghost.

“It said to leave.”

“Interesting.” I walked over to the desk and grabbed my keys. “Shall we?”

“What?” he looked at me wild-eyed.

“I don’t know if I don’t go. You want me to help you, right?”

“Yeah, how much would that be?” he asked slowly and dropped his head again.

“It’s… I don’t know until I know what I’m dealing with. I may get there and decide that this haunting isn’t anything that I can help with. There are limits to what can sometimes be done, and there are certain types of hauntings that I won’t get involved in.”

“Oh! Ok…” He bit his bottom lip.

“Typically, it could be anywhere from two to five thousand, depending on how much I have to do. Does that sound ok?”

“It’s guaranteed?” He looked me in the eye.

“No.” I shook my head. “But you only pay if I can actually help. If I can’t do anything to help, I won’t charge you.”

“I guess that’s… ok… I was honestly just looking to buy a sage stick and hope that it would work,” he huffed.

“It wouldn’t if it’s a real haunting. That stuff isn’t… It doesn’t expel ghosts from your house. That’s just an old wives’ tale. It can actually make it worse. I’m glad you confided in me. Most ghosts are harmless, but if he’s able to manipulate solid things, that’s… concerning.” I hoped he understood.

“What about the hearing it speak thing?”

I shrugged. “Some people are more open to hearing things than they know. I won’t know until we go.” It meant your friend had some kind of psychic energy is what it meant.

“Thanks… I… I’m really glad you took the time to talk to me. I felt weird walking in, and… I’ve always heard that most psychics are fake, you know.” He looked at me bashfully, hoping I wouldn’t take offense.

“ Most are. Lucky for you, this is what I do. I’ll be honest with you.” I put my hand on his shoulder, and we stood there for a second before he slowly grinned.

“I… think you will be. There’s just something about you that’s… trustworthy, I guess.”

“Does your friend know that you’re here?” I cocked my eyebrow at him, already knowing the answer.

He shook his head slowly.

Well, this could be weird. “Right… Well, shall we?”

“Might as well get it over with. He’s the type of guy who doesn’t like asking for help. He’s had a rough few months, so he might not be as cool as he normally is, but I know him, and he needs help more than he would admit.”

“I know the type.” I grinned.

I followed him out into the bright sun and turned the sign on my door to closed before locking it behind me. Daveed was pure of thought when it came to what he believed. He was scared for his friend, and truly thought that there was a ghost in the house.

I hoped he was wrong even if I did need the money.