Destiny's Gate (20 page)

Christmas dinner was definitely in the works as I smelled the turkey vapours wafting down the hallway into my room. I was starving and bounded into the washroom to freshen up. I dressed in my red jeans, and red and black blouse that mom had picked up for me while on her travels. My attire reflected my hope and passion for the
season.

Walking into the dining room, it was refreshing to see everyone seated around the table dressed for the specialness of the day, with bright smiles on each face. Any negative memories were suspended, for the time being. Positive thoughts and laughter was the best medicine for this tortured soul, yet I could not help but wonder how long this would
last.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Trust Your Gut

Boxing Day sales in Canada were awesome. It was a tradition mom introduced me to when I was thirteen years old. Initially, I thought it was more of a pain than anything, cavorting with crowds of people bumping into each other, in order to find a super cheap deal for the one item they thought they needed most. However, I began to appreciate the time spent with mom, and the laughs and chuckles we would have about the personalities that nudged into our paths. We set out by nine that morning, and talked excitedly about Christmas, and how much fun it was with the family. Then our conversation grew
serious.

“Peggy was instrumental to my spiritual development as a teen. Of course, Peggy was much younger then, and quite a risk taker; nothing could get her spirit down. Living on the estate, I sensed eyes upon me and never felt truly alone. Sometimes I wondered if it was normal living as I did, though I accepted it as my normal. One day, I walked along the road after school and was urged to take an alternate route. I wondered why, until later that day when I overheard my parents talking about a terrible accident on the very road I normally followed and had left to walk through the forest home to O’Brien Manor. A drunk driver hit two acquaintances of mine from school, same grade, walking along the gravel road on the curve I had detoured from. Bang, and they were gone. The truck took them both out. Peggy explained that a spirit urged me to leave the
road.”

It was such a sad story but mom had made her point. I admitted, “Mom...that’s happened to me
too!”

Before I could add anything further, she jumped in and reiterated, “Always trust your gut
instinct.”

We did not talk much during the remainder of the trip to the mall, as traffic had increased. I felt nauseated and a bit dizzy as we drove up, and noticed the mall parking lot was full; two football field-sized lots, full. Wonderful! Mom must have sensed my anxiety as she reminded me of the elderly lady we had helped the year before that took a tumble, when her purse strap became snagged on a steel post, tugging her backwards, as she walked away. I recalled catching her just before she fell to the ground and broke any bones. Although she could have experienced a serious injury, it was a funny sight to see — the elderly lady broke out into hysterical laughter. It was quite surprising actually. Remembering the incident, I immediately felt a sense of
relief.

Mom parked across the street from the mall in a partially empty lot and jested, “Remember, Paige, we only buy what we
need.”

I took a few deep breaths and managed a weak smile in
return.

Walking through the revolving door at the mall entrance, I lost my breath fleetingly. However, I did not sense anything out of the ordinary as I looked at the people milling about inside. Later on I did recall an odd, short, middle aged man with round glasses, standing inside the doors, his back half turned, as if holding something he did not want anyone to
see.

Mom and I walked arm in arm into the main hallway. It was jammed with hundreds of shoppers. I already regretted not wearing my lighter winter jacket, as I was heating up from so many
bodies.

Mom was thrilled when she found a frilly white blouse, good for any suit, as she described it. Then it was my turn, I spied some green Guess jeans on sale for a third of the regular price in exactly my size and was elated. We soon decided to go our separate ways since shopping would be easier in single
file.

I marched into Margaret’s Gift Shop filled with items from around the world and found an engraved, handcrafted marble box with the words “Live, Love, Laugh” etched on it. When I reached to pick it up, my hand brushed against a black, oblong stone; I quickly withdrew my hand as it felt as if the stone had burned me. The store manager, as indicated by his name tag, had been watching and when I looked at him in annoyance, he turned away to talk to one of his student staff members. I read the description of the stone:
Praying Stone found locally
. I carefully picked up the box from the opposite side and carried it to the
check-out.

“Watch what you touch in this store,” the student said quietly. “For someone as sensitive as you, it could be harmful.” He cut short our conversation as the owner walked over and informed his assistant he would cash me
out.

“How long have you been gifted?” the manager pried. He stared at me awaiting a reply that I was not willing to
give.

“I am not sure what you
mean.”

He ignored my response and continued, “The stone you touched was uncovered at a nearby estate. You may have heard of it? O’Brien Manor?” His eyes seemed
penetrating.

Feeling hot and extremely uncomfortable, I denied any knowledge and responded, “Never heard of it. Can I please buy my gift now? My mom and I are in a hurry.”
Could he be reading my
mind?

“Sure. Here you go,” he said and grunted as he placed my purchase in an eco-friendly paper bag. I noticed he had slipped something else inside the
bag.

Searching for mom, I bravely negotiated the hall packed with shoppers. In the meantime, I explored inside the bag, cutting my index finger along the nail on a business card.
Yeow
. The card had a man’s name, Edgar Allan, printed on the front of it, and on the back was a handwritten message:
You are in danger. Call me right
away!

First of all, how did he know I was gifted? And second of all, I have my own circle of friends to confide in, thank you very much. His services were not needed. I threw the card in a trash can before reconnecting with mom who hugged me on sight and oozed excitement as she explained how thrilled she was that she had found two crystal candle holders for her parents and a flashy red tie for dad. I feigned interest but was relieved when she announced that it was time to return to the
estate.

As we headed out the same entrance we came in, I noticed the middle-aged man was still loitering in the corner; he winked at me. I was disgusted by his gesture. As we crossed the road to our car, I had a vision of the man in his home surrounded with mountains of junk. He was a hoarder. It gave me the
willies.

I talked to mom about my vision in the car, and she commented, “Paige, sometimes we are shown details about a person and are not really sure why. We have a gift from Creator and He works in mysterious ways. Some people think it’s a gene passed on from generation to generation, especially in the Scottish world, our heritage. Others believe people who are psychic are evil, and talking to devious or foolish spirits. Our job is to assess what feels right, from a place of love, and to ignore anything else. For example, if you sense a warm, glowing feeling that envelops you, then it’s Creator, or an angel, if not, it’s pointless listening to lost souls, or paying attention to visions that seem
random.”

I thought to myself, sometimes you cannot ignore everything else, especially if it hurts you physically in some way. I figured out that mom did not know about spirit wolves or about me transitioning souls for that matter. Some lost souls can and want to be saved. I decided it was best to keep this fact to myself. As for the visions, this was still unclear to
me.

The next morning, dad announced he was taking our family on a road trip in my new car, with my permission, of course. I agreed, after all, he insisted on experiencing the car himself, to make sure it was safe.

We drove north along Lambton Road, parallel to Lake Huron, enjoying our family time alone. On several stretches of the highway, the sun glistened on the lake, reflecting off the ice embedded along the coastline. There were several quaint villages along the highway, some with boutique type stores and marinas. Dad insisted on stopping in a town called Bayfield to get some fresh air, as he put it, and to look at the sailboats for sale. I knew he had always wanted to buy one but found them too expensive to own in the Toronto area. Unpredictably, mom decided they should find one of the sales team and take a closer look. Dad disappeared for awhile, as we walked around the marina. I noticed a man grabbing a ladder and setting it next to the rear of a sailboat — it was up on stilts; later, I learned it was called a cradle. The man proceeded to climb up and into the boat. I almost broke out laughing at the idea of walking on a boat in the middle of winter; it was crazy, until dad insisted we do the
same.

We toured three boats — all twenty-six feet in length: a Hughes, a C & C and a Tartan. Each boat had different advantages to their layout; mom went with her gut once she stepped onto the Hughes. It was love at first sight. She said it felt like it was ours already. It had a wide beam which enhanced the space in the cockpit and below in the sleeping quarters. There was an oversized V-berth at the bow of the boat housing the master bedroom, a head nestled below the bed — gross, but at least it had one — a teak wood galley with stove top and fridge, and a long single berth, tucked underneath the stairs and cockpit. Up top, there was plenty of space in the cockpit where you steer the boat, and at the front, or bow, there was ample room to lie down in the sunshine. It was a white sailboat named Mahalo — Hawaiian for hello, or thank you. An hour later, after credit verification and boat licensing, we owned the boat. The marina offered to store Mahalo until the spring and then have it shipped to a small marina close to Camlachie. I could not believe the spontaneity of my parents and pondered how in the world they would sail a boat this summer when they lived in
Italy?

Next, dad insisted we stop for a bite to eat and took us to the marina restaurant where we dined on turkey club sandwiches with the best maple bacon and tomato I had ever experienced. As I took my second bite, dad announced they were moving home in June. I practically spit out my mouthful and was totally elated. What a Christmas present this
was.

We jumped into the car and drove her back to the estate. I beamed the whole way home and decided my new car would be named Lucille, wanting to mark this day in my memory forever. I could not wait to give the good news to my
grandparents.

Back at the manor, grandpa was visibly excited. “Did you tell her?” He took one look at me and continued, “Why of course, you did. You’re glowing, Paige. Isn’t it
magnificent?”

Despite feeling slighted for being the last to know, I hugged him dearly and began to cry. Selfishly, I was thinking that I was tired of being alone on the estate with family I had only met six months prior, and also of handling all of the bad happenings on the estate. Mom joined in on the hug and then turned to include her mother. Grandma, on the other hand, was frowning so much, her amber eyes blazed. Mom seemed not to notice, but I sure
did.

That night as I lay in bed suffering from insomnia once again, I rejoiced at how great it would be to have my parents back home at the manor with me. With mom living on the estate, there was nothing we could not fight together. I would have to ask her to help me with the supernatural battle, but how? Would I reveal to her every detail of what has happened, through all the events, on the estate? Or should I soften the flow of events and gain her trust in stages? What a dilemma to have at the age of seventeen. Aren’t parents supposed to fight the boogie monster? When did the change
occur?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The Otherworld

The remainder of the holidays spent with my parents were joyful. Each day we discovered trails we had not set foot on before using our snowshoes gifted from my grandparents. It was the best gift to the three of us. The snow glistened as the sunshine reflected off it; sunglasses were a definite must. Breathing in the fresh air, tiny icicles formed on the hairs inside my nose and then quickly melted. We spied deer, and a fawn that looked like Bambi from the Disney movie, and a red fox. Dad prided himself on knowing all about the animals of the forest; on this day, mind you, one particular set of tracks had him bent down and studying them intently. As he straightened up, he had a puzzled look on his face. I could not read what he was thinking while he kicked snow on them. I shivered, as I hoped these were not the tracks from the black canines. We continued hiking towards the desolated
cemetery.

I began to experience a heightened sense of doom and gloom. After the events of the summer months with Conall, Mackenzie and their mother, I wondered if there would be any relapses of negative energy. Halloween was no picnic either, nor the banquet room battle. We plowed our way through the snowdrifts as I tried to convince them to turn around and go back to the estate. Too late, mom had zeroed in on the angel. We could see her clearly against the backdrop of the cerulean blue sky with the added benefit of barren tree branches. The stone angel was an impressive figure in the midst of the winter wonderland. Mom dragged me by the cuff of my jacket to see
her.

“She’s so animated! Have you been here before, Paige? Why didn’t you tell me about her? She’s so lifelike,” mom said, as she hit me in the arm. This was a common practice of hers, when she was happy or excited about something. Dad complained when he was the target, as he often ended up with a
bruise.

“I didn’t know you were into angels, mom. She is awesome. What do you think, dad? Dad...?” I had not noticed he was not with us, but, back on the trail, crouched down. “Dad, are you coming to see the angel?” It bothered me to see him so wrapped
up.

“Girls, girls! Let’s head back to the manor. We can check out the angel another day,” he
commanded.

As mom was about to protest, a mangy grey wolf knocked and pinned dad down. I foresaw I could no longer hide my secret as a vision of Journey jumped into my
head.

The wolf growled, baring its serrated teeth and then sadistically stared at mom and me and back at dad. I felt paralyzed with fear, unable to move, until mom snapped me out of it. She ran down the path to dad, and hurled herself at the wolf sending it head over heels. It happened so fast, I didn’t comprehend at first that her human form sat next to me on the ground, and that she had shapeshifted into a beautiful, caramel-coloured wolf. She shielded dad from the grey wolf, and lifted her head, baring her teeth as drool cascaded from her mouth and melted the snow
below.

Dad sat up, shaking uncontrollably, in a visible state of shock. He backed away from the two wolves. I, too, transformed into my spirit wolf, and bounded over to aid mom. She howled at me and I understood to back off; this was her fight. I trotted to dad and nudged my head under his armpit so he would stand up. In the meantime, mom snapped viciously at the wolf and he ran for his
life.

I could not believe my eyes! Here I worried I had this huge secret, and all the while, mom was a wolf shapeshifter. Like mother like daughter, as they say. Mom transformed to her human body and rushed over to us. Dad’s baby blue eyes were so wide I thought they were going to pop out of his
head.

“What the...who are you? Stay away from me!” he bellowed as he took off down the pathway heading towards the estate; his long legs making great
strides.

“Oh, boy, this is going to be impossible to explain, Paige. I see you have inherited the shapeshifting gene. Isn’t it great? Enough said for now, I have to catch up with your dad. We’ll talk later, Paige.” She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “Let’s retreat to the estate before the grey wolf decides to
return.”

I was dazed, staring absent-mindedly into space, until I absorbed that I had let my parents leave for the manor with a wolf on the prowl, trying to kill us. What was I thinking? I heard,
catch up,
Paige!

The sharp sound of a twig snapping close by startled me. I was afraid to look.
Afraid of what, exactly?
Nothing was going to bring me down. I turned to confront my enemy and there standing before me, once again, was Dexter. It sunk in. Perhaps, he was one of my spirit
guides.

“Paige, you are caught between this world and the Otherworld where spirits live alongside the land of the living, invisible to most humans. These creatures that are stalking you and your family must not be underestimated. You can gain their trust and have them assist you in the battle that is coming. You must prepare yourself. This is a battle for you and you alone.” Dexter pointed ominously at me and then promptly
vanished.

I found it difficult to sleep that night. The fact that mom and dad were fighting, and leaving soon, increased my anxiety, and Dexter’s words of warning haunted me tonight. What was I caught between, and why me? What was so special about me, that I was ‘the one’ to end this conflict for the O’Brien family? My chest grew tight and my breathing grew shallow as I reflected on the potential answers to these questions. I began to worry that perhaps I was on my way to having a heart attack. Then I heard a small voice inside my head,
slow down your breathing, take deep breaths in through the nose, out through the mouth
, and soon enough, I was calm and relaxed. I had stopped dwelling on whose voice I was listening to these days. As long as it was helpful to me, I trusted it completely. Eventually, I drifted off into a dreamless
slumber.

Kissing my parents goodbye in the driveway was a tough one. Dad did not look happy and he stayed physically far away from mom. I was saddened by this and wondered if they would get through it, together. Mom walked over and gave me one last peck on the
cheek.

“Don’t worry, Paige. Your dad will come around. He always does.” She winked at me as she entered the yellow taxi cab. It never ceased to surprise me that this compact mother of mine showed great
strength.

Before dad got in, I cupped my hands to my mouth and said, “Dad, remember we all have special gifts. You are a healer, with those hands of yours. It is no different than mom and
I.”

He paused, and replied, “Yes...I suppose so, Paige. Don’t worry, your mom and I will be fine.” Dad smiled and blew me a
kiss.

I felt exhausted as I watched them pull away. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect mom to have a spirit wolf, or dad to find out about the two of us. Funnily enough, I felt like a burden had been lifted and that was what I would concentrate on. I knew the love between my parents would overcome any fear or misunderstanding between them. I spun around into the arms of grandpa and began to weep
uncontrollably.