Eleanor pushed the heavy blonde bangs back from her forehead and resumed beating the cake batter, her arm muscle growing tired. Lately, she had felt alternately full of energy and then fatigued beyond belief. Her son Rob's birthday party would be starting in about five hours, and she hadn't even bought decorations yet. The long narrow kitchen had warmed in the spring sunshine that poured through the open window. Birds sang and a breeze pushed the lightweight white ruffled curtains, billowing them occasionally. Crayoned pictures covered the refrigerator. A round, flat plaster mold of small hands hung on the pale beige wall with red yarn. The name Amanda appeared in a babyish scrawl across the bottom of the circle, written in red marker.

"Hi, anyone home?" The cheery and much-welcomed voice of her best friend, Kathy, rang out from the front door. Eleanor put the bowl down and turned, pushing the annoying bangs back. She started across the white linoleum floor and met her friend halfway across the kitchen. Kathy looked great, as usual, her tall, slender frame and brunette coloring set off by the lightweight blue cotton sweater and blue jeans. Eleanor's tee shirt was the same color of blue, with a denim jumper over the top. They often chose the same colors to wear on any given day. They hardly noticed anymore.

"Hi yourself. It's good to see you." They hugged, as they always did when they met and parted. Recognizing the gift of true friendship, they cherished each other and assisted one another through the rough spots. Eleanor and Kathy had met in college and ended up living close together, after some wandering in other directions. They called it coincidence until they began running across interesting books about spirituality. Then it became synchronicity. They eagerly looked for and shared synchronicities in their lives, and giggled and marveled over them when they appeared.

"You still feeling blah?" Kathy set a paper bag on the tile countertop. She smiled encouragingly, her warm brown eyes mirroring the trust and affection in Eleanor's blue ones.

"I feel okay, I guess. Today's not bad. How about you?" Eleanor glanced out the kitchen window. "Isn't it a wonderful day? This is the warmest it's been so far."

They had been coaching and encouraging each other through the energy shifts over the previous couple of years. Their spiritual advisor, Lydia, had carefully guided them in their classes each week, letting them know that, no, they weren't losing their minds, and yes, there was a point to all the craziness. The weekly classes had stretched over two months, and covered concepts like past lives, energy and its connection to physical lives versus spiritual existence, and the use of tools of discernment such as Tarot and pendulums.

Lydia's channel, the third leg of their friendship trio, lived about 10 miles away, in a small farming community. Jade had been channeling Lydia for about 15 years. The diminutive woman had the strongest, most dynamic energy either Eleanor or Kathy had ever encountered. All of five feet tall, she seemed suspended in time, neither aging nor changing in any discernible way. Tiny at five feet tall, she started each day with a long, brisk walk through woods near her home. She slept about four hours a night and was constantly on the go. Jade, a single mother, cared for four sons, kept her house spotless, and worked with clients many hours a week. She had been the instructor at the classes, though many felt the lessons came straight from Lydia.

Jade agreed completely. "Well, everything we think or do is, technically speaking, channeled, if not from our higher selves, then from our guides and spiritual advisers," she often said. "Do you think Mozart wasn't channeling when he wrote music?"

"When will Jade be here, do you know?" Eleanor resumed beating the batter, then prepared to pour it into a floured pan. She liked to make her children's birthday cakes herself, a carryover from her own childhood and memories of beautifully decorated wonders sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, all for her. She had loved her birthday cakes, and wanted her two kids to feel equally special.

Kathy began emptying the sack and placing the purchases on the countertop. Another voice came from the front door.

"Hi, I'm home." Ted, Eleanor's live-in boyfriend, walked into the high-ceilinged entryway. They had been together for five years, and had met after her divorce was finalized. He embodied all the positive qualities that her ex-husband seemed to lack - understanding, compassion, responsibility. The chalet-style house, located on a lookout spot within a rustic and far-flung cluster of homes outside Roslyn, Washington, housed the family of four comfortably.

Ted's jeans, covered in dirt, looked as though they could stand up by themselves. His blonde ponytail held bits of dirt and twigs. The tank top he wore showed his tanned and muscled shoulders, and his light blue eyes blazed in his handsome, darkly tanned face. Walking over to Eleanor, he bent down and kissed her, holding his hands out to the side, careful not to touch anything.

"I got the garden rototilled, and we'll be able to plant the veggies starting tomorrow." The kitchen filled with the smell of sweat and dirt. The earthy smell competed with the sweet scent of cake batter. Ted and Kathy smiled hellos at each other. "Are you going to be sore tomorrow?" she asked mischievously, her eyes dancing.

Ted groaned and stretched his six-foot frame, twisting slightly to each side. "Oh, probably. I do this every year. I'm too cheap to rent the rototiller for more than 24 hours and end up driving myself into the ground. Not to mention getting blisters." He moved out of the kitchen and toward the hallway. "What do you want me to do with these pants, honey?" he called back over his shoulder.

Eleanor made a happy face at Kathy. "Isn't he just so good?" she whispered. "Put them on the bathroom floor in the corner," she called. "That's where they'll do the least damage. Unless you want to put on a show and undress on the front porch and leave them there." Ted's footsteps stopped, then headed back toward the front door.

"Okay. I seldom get a chance to give the neighbors a thrill. Anyway, the trees have enough leaves now to hide the worst parts."

"Honey, you have no worst parts." Eleanor poured the batter as a modest snort came from the front door, followed by the sound of the screen door banging.

Finishing the conversation they had begun, Eleanor put the cake into the hot oven. "Jade will be here at about four o'clock, I think. She's not bringing the boys, thank goodness, I would have had to buy three times as much food. They block out the sun, I swear." She stopped, leaned against the countertop, and pushed her hair back again. "I remember when they were small." Jade's husband Dave had moved out when the youngest was just six months old, leaving her to raise them with no source of money to speak of. She had begun channeling Lydia shortly afterward, and had eked out a living. Her clientele had slowly grown over the years, and she now enjoyed a secure, if not wealthy, lifestyle.

Ted opened the front door, called out "Don't look, now," and disappeared down the hallway toward the bathroom. The two women giggled and ran to the kitchen door, giving him a chorus of catcalls and whistles as he headed for the shower. Giggling their way back to the kitchen, they began cleaning up. Eleanor started the dishes.

Kathy nodded thoughtfully, picking up the thread of conversation again. "She's done very well with them. They're good boys, and they respect her and aren't shy about telling her they love her. That's rare for teenagers these days."

The sound of children’s voices drifted through the window. Pushing the curtain back, Eleanor smiled. "Here they come." Her son Rob and daughter Amanda marched up the road, knapsacks and paper bags in hand. The last day of school had consisted of two hours of cleaning out desks and saying goodbye to friends for the summer. The small town community was subject to an influx of tourists each summer, and Ted and Eleanor seldom ventured into town unless it was absolutely necessary, so the kids played mainly with those in the same neighborhood. They would see the town kids when school started up again.

Amanda's bright yellow windbreaker made her easy to spot through the budding trees. Rob's blonde hair shone in the midday sun. Eight and ten respectively, they did well in school and had looked forward excitedly to summer vacation.

"So tell me, has Amanda surprised you lately? I mean with the things she says. You know." Kathy grinned. Eleanor rolled her eyes.

"You won't believe what happened. Mrs. McDonald came over the other day and Amanda wandered in, looked her up and down, and said 'Why don't you dance anymore?' Mrs. McDonald looked like she'd seen a ghost."

Kathy looked a question. "Well?" She held her hand out, palm up. "What was that about?"

Eleanor smiled a tiny smile, her expression one of resignation. "Mrs. McDonald has to be in her seventies. As usual, Amanda picked up something from the past. After Mrs. McDonald got over the shock, she blurted out that she used to be a burlesque dancer a long time ago." She shook her head. "Amanda has to learn to be more discreet. It's okay with me that she's clairvoyant, but she tends to frighten people sometimes. Amanda proceeded to ask her why she didn't wear many clothes when she danced. I decided it was time to send her outside to play. Poor Mrs. McDonald needed a glass of water after that. I'm afraid it upset her a little."

Kathy's grin showed her pride in the little girl. "She's really gifted, El. She's going to do big things, you know."

Her friend nodded. "I know. But where will it take her? I have the feeling she'll be gone soon. I sometimes think that if she could earn money, she'd be living on her own now. There's a very old soul in that skinny little body. Even her teachers comment on her manner with them. It's like she knows when something isn't fair or right, and she just ignores it and refuses to go along with it. She isn't affected by the subtle, coercive and threatening methods some of the teachers use to get the kids to obey. She does things her way, and what's odd is that the others see what she does, and just naturally follow her example. There have been a few near-revolts. You know how insensitive Mr. Hanratty can be with handing out black stars for the smallest things."

Kathy nodded. She'd heard local gossip. Having no kids of her own, she didn't get news firsthand, but relied on Eleanor's involvement with the school to stay up on local happenings in the educational system. The principal, Mr. Jeff Hanratty, had a system of praise and demerits that many of the parents didn't like. Each child had a chart posted on the first day of the week, on the class bulletin board. The chart consisted of a grid with the day of the week written at the top of the columns, like a calendar. If the child got through the day displaying only good behavior, he or she got a gold star. If there was any bad behavior, which could be decided by any teacher or the principal, a black star would appear in the box for that day. The kids hated the charts. It was humiliating to earn a black star, and twice as bad to have it posted for all to see. Many children had burst into tears at walking into the classroom in the morning only to see a black star on the previous day's square.

Amanda had earned a whole week's worth of black stars because she couldn't stand to see her friends cry, and had ripped their charts down and torn them up. "Give me the black stars, I don't care. You don't know who I really am, so you can say anything you want. But you hurt the others’ feelings when you give them black stars. We're just kids, we're trying to do our best," she had spoken passionately to her teacher, clutching the shredded charts and refusing to let go of them.

The teacher had called Eleanor and lectured her about filling her daughter's head with rebellious ideas. "We have rules to follow here, Mrs. Scheffield." Eleanor had politely reminded the teacher that she and Ted were not married, and her name was still Ms. Martin. The teacher had sniffed in answer.

"My daughter thinks for herself, Mrs. Dunn. I don't fill her head with anything. If she's rebelling, then it's a pretty good sign that what you're doing is unfair in some way."

They had reached an impasse, with all sides finally dropping the subject, but there had been a noticeable reduction in the number of black stars that appeared on the charts after that.

Kathy looked at Eleanor as she brushed her bangs away yet again. "Would you like for me to trim those for you? You look miserable." She laughed as Eleanor grabbed the bangs, reached for a rubber band on the counter, and snapped it around them, forming a pony tail that stuck straight up from her forehead. She looked like Pebbles Flintstone.

"Sure!" she said, straight-faced. They bent double with laughter as Ted walked in barefoot. Clean and dressed in fresh tee shirt and shorts, he looked like a different man.

Stopping in the doorway, he stared at them. "Well, okay, then." He grinned, gave Eleanor a quick hug, walked to the cupboard, found a glass, and filled it with water. Drinking it down, he moved out of the way as Eleanor reached around him to get the scissors out of the drawer.

The screen door banged as Rob and Amanda trooped in. They dropped their bags in the entryway, took their knapsacks off, hung them up with jacket and windbreaker, and came into the kitchen. Eleanor set the scissors on the countertop and turned, kneeling on one knee, her arms out to hug them together. The two kids ran to her, Amanda asking, "Why is your hair like that?" Rob had already begun to giggle. Eleanor, a surprised look crossing her face, reached up.

"Oh my gosh, how did my hair get like this?" This brought giggles from everyone. Rob and Amanda both headed for the refrigerator.

Amanda inhaled deeply. "Mmmm, mom's baking cake."

"Yeah, it's my birthday." Rob sounded smug, and Amanda made a face at him.

"You've only been saying that all day."

"I know." He shrugged, grabbed a bunch of grapes, and began eating them.

"Easy on the food, guys, lunch will be ready in half an hour. Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup."

"Yay!" they yelled at the same time. It was both of the kid's favorites lunch. Comfort food, Eleanor called it. She served it whenever they came in from playing on cold winter days. This would be the last time it would be served for this season, with the days getting warmer.

Kathy took the scissors in hand. "We can lay down newspaper in the bathroom, and then I'll vacuum. You need those bangs trimmed." Kathy had worked her way through college as a hair stylist, her first career. Finally finishing her degree in art the same year she turned forty, she had carved a place for herself in the Seattle art scene with lovely floral pastels. She had begun to sell originals at very good prices, and had gone from full time work as an insurance adjuster to part time. She dreamed of opening her own gallery in downtown Roslyn.

"Okay. Kids, you can play outside. This will only take a few minutes. The cake will be done in a bit."

"I want to work on the computer." Rob looked sideways at her, grinning.

"Okay, but you know the rule. Two hours a day tops." Eleanor rationed her kids’ time staring at the monitor. She preferred they go out into the fresh air, it was healthier for them. She had noticed they did not sleep as well after sitting in front of the screen for long stretches.

"I'll go outside." He shrugged and ran out behind his sister.

Kathy took her arm and led her to the bathroom. They laid down newspapers that Eleanor brought from the master bedroom, where Ted left them beside the fireplace every day. She fetched a stool from the dining room bar and perched on it. Kathy combed and cut the offending bangs, then brushed Eleanor's shoulders and face off with a towel. Just as they finished and she shook her head to fluff the newly-trimmed bangs, they heard Amanda scream. It was not a play scream, it was a serious, gut-wrenching scream.

Eyes wide, they stared at each other for a heartbeat, then ran pell-mell for the front door. Ted met them there and they all rushed out onto the porch, looking frantically around. They spotted her and Rob standing by the road, Rob flapping his arms frantically and yelling "What's the matter? Amanda! What's wrong?" The three adults ran toward where the girl stood clutching her hands at her chest, her mouth open and screams issuing out, one after another.

Eleanor grabbed the girl and lifted her up. "Amanda!" she yelled. "What is it? Did you get hurt?" The girl stopped to draw breath and Eleanor looked wildly at Rob. "What happened? Rob! Tell me!" The boy shook his head frantically. "Mom, I don't know! She just stopped, grabbed the front of her sweatshirt, and started screaming!"

Ted reached over and took Amanda, who, by now, was alternately crying and screaming "It hurts! It hurts!" She sobbed, twisting her shirt and taking gasping breaths. Kathy hovered, feeling helpless and frightened to death.

"Call 911!" Eleanor looked over at Kathy, tears running down her face. Glad to have something to do, Kathy ran inside and grabbed the phone, her hands shaking. Reaching over, she turned the oven off. The cake was ready to come out. It could wait, but it didn't have to burn, she thought incongruously. The operator picked up at the other end.

"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?"

Kathy gave a breathless, disjointed explanation. The operator took the address and said paramedics would be there within minutes.

Running back outside, Kathy saw Ted sitting on the ground, cradling Amanda, who still wept. Eleanor grabbed Kathy's arm and they stood together as Ted spoke to Amanda, asking her to show him where it hurt. To their amazement, the little girl's arm flung out. She pointed down the road.

"It hurts over there," she sobbed.

Ted, Eleanor, Rob and Kathy all looked at each other. Ted asked Amanda, "What do you mean it hurts over there, honey?" He looked up at Eleanor. "She must be delirious."

"It hurts over there, the lady who danced. It hurts in her. I can feel it, but it hurts in her." Amanda began crying again in pain.

Kathy and Eleanor had the same thought simultaneously. "Mrs. McDonald!"

Kathy understood immediately. "She's having a heart attack. We have to go help her."

"Ted, take care of Amanda. We'll be right back. I'll come back, honey, I promise." Eleanor grimaced with the difficulty of leaving her daughter, but she knew Kathy was right. They both took off running. The elderly woman's house sat about a hundred yards away, down a small slope in the road. Eleanor's heart pounded. She felt as though she moved in slow motion. She and Kathy reached the front door together and began pounding on it, shouting.

"Mrs. McDonald, are you there? Are you okay?" They peered in windows, frantically running around the house and across the patio. The french door stood open. They ran inside. Mrs. McDonald lay on the dining room floor, awkwardly wedged between table and wall. Her right hand clutched the front of her dress, just as Amanda's had. Her face looked blue, and her arms and legs trembled, shaking slightly. She had stopped breathing.

"Pull her out here, in the open. Do you remember what we learned in that CPR class last year?" Kathy helped Eleanor bring the woman across the hardwood floor, trying not to move her head and neck too much in case they had been injured in the fall. Working together, they performed CPR. After several minutes, they cried out with joy when she took a gasping breath.

At that moment, paramedics appeared in the doorway, carrying metal boxes and medical equipment. The team of professionals quickly surrounded the prostrate form, attaching leads and inserting tubes.

"It's probably an MI, but we'll have to make sure," the lead medic told them. After running quick tests, they determined that Mrs. McDonald had indeed had a heart attack. After a few minutes spent stabilizing her, they brought a gurney and lifted her gently up and onto the clean white sheet. After helping load the patient into the ambulance, the lead medic turned and shook hands with Kathy and Eleanor.

"You probably saved her life," he said. "How did you know she had the attack? Did she call you?"

The two women looked at each other, but couldn't find words. How could they explain what had happened? Eleanor looked around in time to see Ted walking up the roadway, holding Amanda's hand. She looked fine. Rob walked beside them, his face pale. They joined Kathy and Eleanor, who scooped Amanda up and hugged her fiercely. She looked back at the medic.

"I guess you could say she called me," she replied through tears. The medic, looking confused, thanked them again and got into the ambulance. As it pulled away, Eleanor set Amanda down and crouched down in front of her.

"Amanda, are you really okay?"

"Yes, mommy. What happened, anyway? Why did Ted pick me up?" She looked curiously up at the man standing next to her. "Did I fall or something? I'm hungry, too." Rob choked, started coughing, and looked up in disbelief. The three adult's faces showed identical expressions.

"Honey, you don't remember that you hurt here?" Eleanor reached out and touched Amanda's chest. The little girl shrugged.

"No, I don't think I hurt there. I don't remember having anything hurt there."

Eleanor straightened up. She stared at Ted, who looked as confused as she did. "Right after you took off, she quit crying and just sort of sat up. She asked me what we were doing on the ground." He held his arms out to the sides, at a loss for further words.

The small group stood on the road in silence, processing what had just happened. Slowly, they turned toward home and began to walk back. As they reached the house, Eleanor glanced over at Kathy and Ted.

"I think we have some questions for Lydia this evening. I hope Jade's ready to do some channeling." The others nodded in agreement.

"Oh goody, Auntie Jade is coming over? I love talking to Lydia. Sometimes she talks to me in my head, too." Amanda danced up the steps, oblivious to the drama that had just transpired.

Kathy's eyes met Eleanor's, and their heads shook simultaneously. Opening the door, Ted waited for the others to walk inside, then followed, shutting the door behind him.

(c) Leslie Ann Garrison 1999

Leslie Ann Garrison was born in Watertown, South Dakota in the early 50's. Her younger years were spent in Alaska where her Dad was a police officer and a pilot. Then it was off to Wyoming where she discovered in high school that she had a flair for writing.

The next bend in the road brought her to Washington state, where she eventually attended Western Washington University receiving a BS degree in Environmental Science.

At one time or another, she has been a ski bum, a bartender, a secretary, a mountain climber, a medical transcriptionist... and most pivotally, a Deputy with an Eastern Washington County Sheriff's Office and an instructor at the Reserve Police Officers Academy.

Then, a mountain biking accident which resulted in surgery ended that phase of her life. She now resides in the Seattle area and writes books of fiction based on actual murder cases. Many memorable experiences on patrol as a Deputy are chronicled in the pages of the "Tall Tales" series.

Contact the author             Leslie's personal website