Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side by Barbara Parks (best ereader for graphic novels txt) 📗

there is usually an emotional attachment or sense of unfin-

ished business which is keeping them tethered to their earthly roots. As such, there may be negative emotional energy present, as they are invariably angry or dissatisfied.

I suspected that the orange orb was that of the angry entity

backstage; it felt as though he just skulked out from behind

the curtain to show himself in the photo. What happened next

made me think so all the more.

As soon as Tony asked the theatre’s ghosts to gather around him, he was surrounded!

Tony went on to ask if any ghosts or spirits would like to

make some noise. He pointed out that this was their chance to

further prove themselves. It took a few minutes of encourage-

ment but the results were worth the wait.

By now we were all standing in front of the stage, look-

ing out towards the stalls. There was a sudden banging from

the right of the stage, so loud and frightening that I jumped and grabbed onto Glenda. Someone (possibly me …) let out a

Haunted Theaters 109

shriek. Matilda and Eleanor were also clinging to each other,

hearts racing.

Tony concluded the evening by facilitating contact with

some of the friendlier spirits, most of whom were part of

the theatre community in days gone by. It seemed they had

retained their connection to the theatre for positive reasons, as it had held happy memories they didn’t want to let go. Perhaps they were crossed over energies who just called in from time

to time, happy to re-live their days in the theatre.

Jock stepped in towards the end of the evening, confirming

our suspicions about the ghost who roamed backstage. He iden-

tified him as Walter, and told us that he was not at all impressed with us being there. Walter thought we were intruding and was

adamant that we should leave.

Whether it was because it was after midnight, or on account

of Walter’s menacing presence, we decided to call it a night.

And as we locked up behind ourselves, we couldn’t help feel-

ing pleased. Despite the heart-stopping moments and Walter’s

negativity, we would no doubt do it all again. We were buoyed

by the success of our evening, and the conviction that that the spirit world had proven itself once again.

chapter fourteen

S t e v e

Amid the bustle which makes up my average workday, an ele-

ment of the amazing managed to worm its way in amongst

the chaos. I was running behind schedule and my waiting

room was beginning to fill up. I felt under increasing pressure as the afternoon wore on, especially since each time I walked

into reception I was greeted by a sea of expectant faces.

One gentleman seated directly opposite me caught my

attention each time I entered the reception area. He exuded an air of calm and smiled as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

He didn’t seem at all perturbed to be kept waiting. There was

something almost familiar about him, although I knew we had

never met.

By the time I ushered him into my treatment room, I felt as

though we had already made some kind of unspoken connec-

tion. The feeling was reinforced as we shook hands and intro-

duced ourselves. Steve took my hand in both of his and shook

it firmly, smiling into my eyes with unmistakeable kindness.

111

112Steve

I took to examining Steve’s feet as he gave me the history

of his condition. As debilitating as his foot pain had been, he didn’t stop smiling as he relayed the details of his complaint. I found myself grinning back, when perhaps it would’ve been

more appropriate to assume a look of sympathetic concern. I

just couldn’t help mirroring the happy face before me.

I asked Steve to stand up so that I could check his foot and

leg alignment, which is when the appointment took a dramatic

turn. His foot condition was soon to be swiftly forgotten.

“So …” I asked as I measured Steve’s arch. “What do you do for a living?”

There was a long pause.

“I’m a telephone counsellor …” he said. “I work in suicide

prevention.”

Given my recent interactions with the spirits of those who

had suicided, Steve’s profession immediately struck a chord

with me. I felt even more of a connection with him.

Steve went on to tell me that his son took his own life five

years ago; a tragedy which had prompted him towards his

life’s vocation.

I tried to maintain my composure and continue with the

examination as we spoke, but pretty soon my professionalism

would go flying spectacularly out the window. I could see that Steve was preparing to tell me more about his son, but could

never have anticipated the bombshell he was about to deliver.

He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders as he began to speak. He told me he thought it was time to come clean.

I looked up at him expectantly, unable to imagine what

coming clean could possibly entail. My routine day at the clinic was about to come to an end; replaced by a magical day I

would never forget.

Steve 113

“I’m Gary’s dad,” smiled Steve.

I was immediately flooded by an overwhelming onslaught

of emotions.

Gary … M y cheeky little bed-shaker! The spirit to whom I’d promised that I would speak to his parents! And now without even trying, I was fulfilling my part of our bargain . I was gob-smacked.

I stood up and dropped my pen onto the desk. The busi-

ness part of our appointment was undeniably over. Steve and I

smiled at each other as we moved in for a heartfelt hug.

“I am so delighted to finally meet you!” I said. “And I’ve so

loved my interactions with your son … well at least everything bar the bed-shaking!”

We sat beaming as we shared anecdotes about Gary’s

recent visits. I was excited to discover that Steve himself had experienced a number of visitations from his son, many of

them resonating with my own.

Steve described how Gary had shown himself one evening

as a smattering of bright flashing lights, whilst simultaneously allowing his energy to pulsate through his parents’ bed. Steve felt waves of vibration systematically coursing through