will.” She grabbed my arm, pressing her fingers into my skin. “Do you agree
that some people are born with the raw, natural talent necessary to become
exceptional musicians or athletes?” I nodded and she continued, “For example,
we can all sing right?”
“Well, that’s
debatable.”
“Exactly my
point. We can all sing, but most of us sound pretty crappy. Only a few
individuals, the ones born with innate talent and great lung capacity, are able
to stay on tune, harmonize, and belt out lyrics that move people. Essence works
the same way.” She sat up excitedly.
“Makes sense; I
guess,” I said and pulled myself into a sitting position as well.
She balled one
hand into a fist and began pummeling it into her other hand. After a deep
breath, she said, “Let’s take this a step further. Imagine Essence passing
freely between two people when they touch.” She raised a brow. “Touch becomes
very powerful! Essence rushes from the strongest person to the weakest, like
when your mom eased your headaches by holding your hand. So in some ways,
anyone’s touch can soothe, comfort, or even heal on a basic level. But,” she
munched on a piece of grass and gazed at me, “some people, like me, have the
ability to intentionally direct it at will. Does that make sense?”
“Don’t be afraid
to lay it all on the line at once.”
She giggled.
“I’m sorry. It’s that Energizer Bunny in me.”
I grinned but
said in a serious tone, “Does anyone else know about your ability to heal or
your theory on Essence?”
“Oh yes! My
whole family does. But my mom is the only one like me.”
I nodded. “Explains
why she became a doctor. Didn’t you say you had a brother and sister that are
twins? Why do you think they don’t have the ability?”
Jessica
stretched out her legs. “Yeah, Max and Madison. They have strong Essence, just
nothing like my mom and I, but I’m not exactly sure why.” She waved her finger.
“The ability is rare and usually skips several generations. I was the lucky
one.”
“How do you know
it’s rare and skips generations?” I asked confused.
“Well, mostly
through documented family history. We don’t know of anyone else who has passed
it directly on to their kids, either.”
“Are you
implying there are others, not in your family, who have these same abilities?”
Her eyes
widened. “Yes.”
“Where are these
other people like you and your mom?”
“They’re spread
out all around the world. They use their Essence to help people or heal the
injured, just like my mom and I do here in Bellingham.” I listened attentively
as she talked about how she and her mom kept in close contact with this network
of people. “Healers didn’t want to be viewed as abnormalities, subjected to
public scrutiny, or possible governmental testing, so they use their abilities
covertly to save others.”
“So…you call
yourselves Healers then?” I mused aloud. I watched enviously as kids splashed
in the lake, their only care in the world – to have fun.
She let out a
derisive snort. “We don’t exactly sit around and refer to ourselves as
Healers.” She crinkled her nose. “Actually, we use the word Amethyst.”
Plucking a
purple wildflower, I said, “That’s logical, I suppose. In fantasy books the
gemstone most often associated most with healing or energy is the amethyst.
Really though,” I drawled, lowering my voice, “it’s so obvious it’s almost
comical.”
All of a sudden,
I wiped the smirk off my face and remembered her shocked reaction when she’d
pulled me off the floor at work. My brain went into overdrive. Had she sensed
something about my Essence? Was it seriously low? Because with the recent
hallucinations and migraines, I felt crappy all the time. Maybe I had some
disease. Of course, that wouldn’t really matter if the mountain lions got me
first.
Jessica noticed
the wave of emotions flashing across my face. She touched my arm. “Hey, what’s
wrong?”
I
that some people are born with the raw, natural talent necessary to become
exceptional musicians or athletes?” I nodded and she continued, “For example,
we can all sing right?”
“Well, that’s
debatable.”
“Exactly my
point. We can all sing, but most of us sound pretty crappy. Only a few
individuals, the ones born with innate talent and great lung capacity, are able
to stay on tune, harmonize, and belt out lyrics that move people. Essence works
the same way.” She sat up excitedly.
“Makes sense; I
guess,” I said and pulled myself into a sitting position as well.
She balled one
hand into a fist and began pummeling it into her other hand. After a deep
breath, she said, “Let’s take this a step further. Imagine Essence passing
freely between two people when they touch.” She raised a brow. “Touch becomes
very powerful! Essence rushes from the strongest person to the weakest, like
when your mom eased your headaches by holding your hand. So in some ways,
anyone’s touch can soothe, comfort, or even heal on a basic level. But,” she
munched on a piece of grass and gazed at me, “some people, like me, have the
ability to intentionally direct it at will. Does that make sense?”
“Don’t be afraid
to lay it all on the line at once.”
She giggled.
“I’m sorry. It’s that Energizer Bunny in me.”
I grinned but
said in a serious tone, “Does anyone else know about your ability to heal or
your theory on Essence?”
“Oh yes! My
whole family does. But my mom is the only one like me.”
I nodded. “Explains
why she became a doctor. Didn’t you say you had a brother and sister that are
twins? Why do you think they don’t have the ability?”
Jessica
stretched out her legs. “Yeah, Max and Madison. They have strong Essence, just
nothing like my mom and I, but I’m not exactly sure why.” She waved her finger.
“The ability is rare and usually skips several generations. I was the lucky
one.”
“How do you know
it’s rare and skips generations?” I asked confused.
“Well, mostly
through documented family history. We don’t know of anyone else who has passed
it directly on to their kids, either.”
“Are you
implying there are others, not in your family, who have these same abilities?”
Her eyes
widened. “Yes.”
“Where are these
other people like you and your mom?”
“They’re spread
out all around the world. They use their Essence to help people or heal the
injured, just like my mom and I do here in Bellingham.” I listened attentively
as she talked about how she and her mom kept in close contact with this network
of people. “Healers didn’t want to be viewed as abnormalities, subjected to
public scrutiny, or possible governmental testing, so they use their abilities
covertly to save others.”
“So…you call
yourselves Healers then?” I mused aloud. I watched enviously as kids splashed
in the lake, their only care in the world – to have fun.
She let out a
derisive snort. “We don’t exactly sit around and refer to ourselves as
Healers.” She crinkled her nose. “Actually, we use the word Amethyst.”
Plucking a
purple wildflower, I said, “That’s logical, I suppose. In fantasy books the
gemstone most often associated most with healing or energy is the amethyst.
Really though,” I drawled, lowering my voice, “it’s so obvious it’s almost
comical.”
All of a sudden,
I wiped the smirk off my face and remembered her shocked reaction when she’d
pulled me off the floor at work. My brain went into overdrive. Had she sensed
something about my Essence? Was it seriously low? Because with the recent
hallucinations and migraines, I felt crappy all the time. Maybe I had some
disease. Of course, that wouldn’t really matter if the mountain lions got me
first.
Jessica noticed
the wave of emotions flashing across my face. She touched my arm. “Hey, what’s
wrong?”
I
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