be. There's more to Patrick Lynn.
Much
more. But there's a barrier. A reef of sorts, churning information like rolling waves that slap at me. He's ... blocking me. A wall of energy gushes from him, nearly knocking me back in the chaise with its force. Patrick is trying to cover up something and hide himself from the rest of the group under that knit cap, gloves, and shades.
"Stop," he says firmly, jerking his hand away and plunging it into the safe haven of his leather glove.
"Stop what?" I ask innocently.
"Don't try to read me, Kendall."
"I'm ... I'm ... er ... I wasn't..."
"Yeah, you were. Leave it alone."
"It's just thatâ" Oh, well. He busted me. Maybe it's not the nicest thing to try to read someone you just met. "Sorry."
He wets his lips with his tongue and lets out a sigh. "So am I. Believe me. So am I."
Before I can ask what he means by that, Chris rings a loud bell to gather all of us together. Patrick stands. Reluctantly, I stand too and follow Patrick to the group. Jess pats the bench next to her and motions me over with her head. Although I can't actually see Patrick's eyes, I feel them on my back as I make my way through the small group and take a seat.
He's got secrets and questions, of that I'm sure. Hopefully our host for the week can provide the answers for him. I know I can't. It's weird enough that I had visions of him. I can't be his salvation too, and I shouldn't even try.
Chris steps up and speaks loudly to all of us.
"Kids, I'm thrilled to introduce you to the host of your Enlightened Youth Retreat. From television's
Ethereal Evidence,
help me welcome psychic and medium Oliver Bates!"
We break into applause and the outside lamps of the complex click on as bright as airplane lights. At the top of the staircase I just went up and down stands a man in a black suit and a gray-striped shirt. He makes his way down the steps, careful not to trample the elephant ferns like I did. At the bottom, he waves.
"Welcome to all of you!" he says.
I may not be sure of a lot of things, but of this I'm certain: "Oliver Bates is
much
shorter in real life than he is on television," I whisper to Jess.
"Shhhh."
"I'm like five-six on a good day, and I bet I'm taller than him."
She growls, "I said, shhhh."
"That's the illusion of television for you."
"Kendall, would you
be quiet.
"
I stifle my giggle and pay attention. Oliver walks through our crowd of thirteen and shakes everyone's hand. He knows our names on sight. I don't know whether that's because he's psychic or because he read our applications and memorized our information.
Standing in front of me, he smiles kindly and offers me his hand. "Kendall Moorehead. I'm so glad we could fit you in for this week."
"Thanks, Mr. Bates"
"Call me Oliver."
"Okay ... wow, thenâOliver. I appreciate your having me."
He covers our joined hands with his other one and pats for a second. He's connecting with me somehow, but the transfer of information is one-way. I'm not sure why he's doing this, so I try that blocking thing that Patrick did on me earlier, sending out a mental barrier. Oliver pauses and then smiles at me.
"Very well, Kendall. We'll talk soon." And then he moves on to Jessica.
Did he sense my fear, like dogs can? Probably so. Who knows?
Oliver finishes his handshaking and returns to the bottom of the stairs. "You've all come here for your own reasons. I won't try to pick them apart right now, but there are some of you here blocking your abilities. There are others who don't understand them. Some who doubt. Many who question. And that's what I'm here for. We've got an interesting week ahead of us at the lovely Rose Briar Inn. Chris and Glenn will be taking care of you twenty-four/seven in terms of the hotel, food, and general hospitality. You'll meet the counselors in the morning and they'll be the ones to help you along your path, whether it be to hone your psychic abilities, read auras, dabble with reading tarot or runes, dowsing or
Much
more. But there's a barrier. A reef of sorts, churning information like rolling waves that slap at me. He's ... blocking me. A wall of energy gushes from him, nearly knocking me back in the chaise with its force. Patrick is trying to cover up something and hide himself from the rest of the group under that knit cap, gloves, and shades.
"Stop," he says firmly, jerking his hand away and plunging it into the safe haven of his leather glove.
"Stop what?" I ask innocently.
"Don't try to read me, Kendall."
"I'm ... I'm ... er ... I wasn't..."
"Yeah, you were. Leave it alone."
"It's just thatâ" Oh, well. He busted me. Maybe it's not the nicest thing to try to read someone you just met. "Sorry."
He wets his lips with his tongue and lets out a sigh. "So am I. Believe me. So am I."
Before I can ask what he means by that, Chris rings a loud bell to gather all of us together. Patrick stands. Reluctantly, I stand too and follow Patrick to the group. Jess pats the bench next to her and motions me over with her head. Although I can't actually see Patrick's eyes, I feel them on my back as I make my way through the small group and take a seat.
He's got secrets and questions, of that I'm sure. Hopefully our host for the week can provide the answers for him. I know I can't. It's weird enough that I had visions of him. I can't be his salvation too, and I shouldn't even try.
Chris steps up and speaks loudly to all of us.
"Kids, I'm thrilled to introduce you to the host of your Enlightened Youth Retreat. From television's
Ethereal Evidence,
help me welcome psychic and medium Oliver Bates!"
We break into applause and the outside lamps of the complex click on as bright as airplane lights. At the top of the staircase I just went up and down stands a man in a black suit and a gray-striped shirt. He makes his way down the steps, careful not to trample the elephant ferns like I did. At the bottom, he waves.
"Welcome to all of you!" he says.
I may not be sure of a lot of things, but of this I'm certain: "Oliver Bates is
much
shorter in real life than he is on television," I whisper to Jess.
"Shhhh."
"I'm like five-six on a good day, and I bet I'm taller than him."
She growls, "I said, shhhh."
"That's the illusion of television for you."
"Kendall, would you
be quiet.
"
I stifle my giggle and pay attention. Oliver walks through our crowd of thirteen and shakes everyone's hand. He knows our names on sight. I don't know whether that's because he's psychic or because he read our applications and memorized our information.
Standing in front of me, he smiles kindly and offers me his hand. "Kendall Moorehead. I'm so glad we could fit you in for this week."
"Thanks, Mr. Bates"
"Call me Oliver."
"Okay ... wow, thenâOliver. I appreciate your having me."
He covers our joined hands with his other one and pats for a second. He's connecting with me somehow, but the transfer of information is one-way. I'm not sure why he's doing this, so I try that blocking thing that Patrick did on me earlier, sending out a mental barrier. Oliver pauses and then smiles at me.
"Very well, Kendall. We'll talk soon." And then he moves on to Jessica.
Did he sense my fear, like dogs can? Probably so. Who knows?
Oliver finishes his handshaking and returns to the bottom of the stairs. "You've all come here for your own reasons. I won't try to pick them apart right now, but there are some of you here blocking your abilities. There are others who don't understand them. Some who doubt. Many who question. And that's what I'm here for. We've got an interesting week ahead of us at the lovely Rose Briar Inn. Chris and Glenn will be taking care of you twenty-four/seven in terms of the hotel, food, and general hospitality. You'll meet the counselors in the morning and they'll be the ones to help you along your path, whether it be to hone your psychic abilities, read auras, dabble with reading tarot or runes, dowsing or
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