Ever since I dipped into Psychic Land, I’ve discovered most people, circling around in my orbit, have no idea or care about The Unexplainable.
Sure, RoseEllen and Kate, from my Bridge Club, are fans of Netflix shows like “The Boo Strangers” and “Glass Caskets” – but to them, those series are make-believe.
“Couldn’t. Wouldn’t Shouldn’t,” RoseEllen piped up one day when I was delicately probing them about their beliefs in the Supernatural.
“Nah,” Kate sniffed. “I watched “The Twilight Zone” for a while, until I discovered it’s mostly the scary background music that makes it seem like that stuff is Real. It’s all Subliminal. And fake. Real is just too boring for some people.”
My investigation of their willingness to believe in the supernatural and ghosts ended quickly. We got back to talking about how the recent deliveries of tomatoes and lettuce to SweetGrass Grocery were so disappointing.
While I commiserated with them about the unfortunate produce, I waited for my bridge partner, Nancy, to come back from the kitchen where she’d been helping arrange the guacamole and chips for after our round.
Nancy gave me a look that said RoseEllen and Kate were as dull as the disappointing lettuce and tomatoes from Sweet Grass. Her look said I think I can read your mind, just like your bridge hand.
I was both surprised and thrilled that maybe Nancy was a Psi and I could confide in her about my experiences with the Apparitions.
But all that would have to wait, because the more involved I got in the unsettling events cascading around me, the less time I had for bridge. I never got to take Nancy aside to talk psychic stuff. And she was left to find a new partner to replace me and to play along side, RoseEllen and Kate, the pair a normals.