Thursday, September 26, 2013

Short Story - The Psychic

            The pouring rain was making it harder. Nothing could be seen on the road. The sound of the fast moving wipers was becoming annoying and the meandering countryside roads were making it impossible to see what was on the other side of the turn. This was the day, exactly a year when Raymond and she were returning from the trip. It was pouring heavily that day too. As per the norm, she was driving and Raymond was taking a nap. Raymond always feared falling asleep while driving, as it had happened once before. She was the careful driver, who Raymond depended on for these trips, as he would for any other job that he found challenging.

           The huge crashing rain drops on the wind-shield suddenly splashed and the car took a 180 degree turn, making a screeching sound. She didn't remember what had happened after that. She had woken up in a hospital, only to find that Raymond was no longer to accompany her on any long drives. 

Today she had gone to see a psychic. He had come all the way from Scotland and her friend wanted her to visit him. She did not believe in the spirit world.  She wanted Raymond to be back the way he was, in flesh and blood, and she knew it was not possible. Her logical and sceptical mind did not see any point in seeing a medium. If Raymond’s soul existed, she would know. She would feel him, she was sure. She had never had Raymond in her dreams. She had never felt his presence in the house after he left, where they had lived together for some 10 odd years. But her friend insisted her to see this medium. Her friend thought the baggage that she was carrying would be lifted, once she talked to Raymond’s spirit.

           They were newly married at that time. She had met Raymond at a wine store. He worked there and she was looking for something Australian, preferably red. She was a party animal. Her friends described her as rebellious and wild. She had not hesitated to invite Raymond to the party at her small two bedroom apartment that night. He didn't talk much and remained in a corner of the room reading a book during the party. Some of her friends had made fun of him too. She had felt a strong urge to defend him and stand by him. He was the quiet one who would not talk unless talked to. He stammered a little while talking and had a limp when he walked. After a few meetings she knew she had to decide and save this man from his loneliness, and the opinions of everyone. The overwhelming pity for him had made her propose to him, which he had accepted apprehensively. The wedding was a simple affair. He did not really want a grand wedding, nor did she. She did not want many people to meet her husband who really wasn't the man she wanted; the dashing, hot, young man who would lift her in the air and kiss her. After a long year of marriage, she knew she wasn't happy. She did her duties and wished secretly in her heart to be free someday from this tie. After 10 years, Raymond hadn't changed; he was still the quiet one who did not like parties and read books in corners. He would let her do the socializing and driving.

                     Going to Banff was her idea. A long drive through the scenic roads was what Raymond would love, and she would enjoy too. She loved driving; however, ten days of long driving had made her tired. The scenic beauty was breathtaking. However, she hadn’t enjoyed the trip as much as she had thought. There was nothing to talk about or discuss with her husband during or after the trip. She knew Raymond loved her but they did not have a match. His expression of love was different, or was there any expression?  

               The church was beautiful. The paintings and the stained glass were as bright as they probably were when the church was built, hundreds of years ago. Tears had rolled down her cheeks as she had offered her prayers. She didn't know why she was crying, but she had cried and watched Raymond looking at her with love in his eyes. She had looked away from him and  then they started for the fateful journey trip back home

 The psychic had asked, “Who died in an accident?”
He knew!!!  
“My husband”
“He says, you didn't kill him, it was an accident”
“He says, your prayers were granted, but it wasn't you, and he is happy where he is”.

--Manoshi 



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