Spiritual Baddie

I'll never forget the first time it happened. I was in the family home in Decatur, I was about 18. It was roughly a few months after I'd learned that I had the ability to speak to the dead, when my dear cousin, Tracey, had passed away. We were in the kitchen, my mother and I. She sat at the kitchen table, and I stood at the sink. And suddenly, out of nowhere, a key that had been used to lock our sliding glass door flew into the middle of the room. Mom and I both froze. The key had been held up through a rubber band that we hung on a hook, and had the key dropped the way it was supposed to, it would have fallen straight away into the trashcan below it. But it didn't do that. It flew into the middle of the room.

My words were "that's physically impossible!" as I tried to process what had just happened. Out of nowhere, an item had just flown across the room in front of us. I immediately tried to make sense of it. I'd already spent a lot of time talking to my dead cousin, but I somehow knew that it wasn't Tracey because I could always feel when she was around. This wasn't her. My mom then said "alright, Joanne!" her recently deceased cousin. Yes! Joanne! That had to be it! That was the only reason that the key flew into the middle of the room, right? Right?!

At some point, that memory flew far back into my mind, replaced by other memories, just like the time I had a party at my apartment and unbothered keys flew off of my tv in a room full of people. TWICE. Another time, I was in my old apartment and I watched with my own eyes as a hat flew across the room. By this point, it was years later, and I'd grown a bit more accustomed to this happening, but it was still a tad spooky. I decided early on that I needed to lay some ground rules. Like look, we're in the same space, it is what it is. We won't have any problems as long as you don't physically appear (I'm okay with talking to ghosts, but seeing them appear in front of me is not something I'm ready to deal with) and my other rule is no throwing dangerous stuff. Like sure, knock some headphones around, but don't go throwing knives or heavy items. And to this spirit's credit, it has stayed within those parameters. Honestly, I never felt like he or she meant harm, but still, we gotta keep this above board. But with my recent move, I'd noticed it happening a wee bit more, including my pill bottle last night and my toothpaste this morning.

Up until recently, I'd kept these happenings to myself. I've come to accept that many people are uncomfortable with the topic of death, so when you start talking about proof of the afterlife, people really freak out. Plus, people start immediately asking you to speak to their loved ones and you gotta just explain stuff you don't feel like explaining.

But as the movements started happening more frequently, I figured that it might be time to look into this- to get answers about who or what this spirit is and what it possibly wants from me. I called my mother to ask if she remembers the moment of the key from the old house. She told me that yes, she did remember it. Must have left quite a mark, because she'll readily admit that her memory is not nearly what it once was. I'd asked her if she'd had any similar moments since then. She said no. I confessed to her that it has happened several times to me since then. Its a known fact in my family that I'm able to speak to the dead, so I think she may have been a little surprised, but given my spiritual gift, not too surprised.

On Christmas, I was with my family, Ali's widow, his brother, and our other cousin. Since his death, we've gotten much closer and spend many holidays laughing and catching up. Anyway, later in the evening, as we sat around, I'd asked if any of them had encountered having items at rest suddenly fly across the room. They all paused briefly, before assuring me that it never happened to them. I mean sure, since Ali died, there have been signs and dreams, but nothing so vivid.

I was always able to put it in the back of my mind, but the more it started to happen, the more I felt like I needed answers. I took to Google and looked up items flying around a room and learned that this particular spirit is called a poltergeist. Another thing that threw me (ha!) was that this spirit followed me to several places. It didn't happen in the same house or apartment, I literally went all over, and it still happened. That being said, if the homes I was in weren't haunted, it's gotta be me or something, I guess.

I know that my bestie, Sky has some gifts as well, so I decided to see what he thought it might be. He agreed that it sounds like a poltergeist. I told him that felt so weird to say, especially since everything I saw online said that poltergeists tend to be evil spirits, but I don't think that mine is. Or was? Sky joked that the movie wouldn't have been nearly as big of a hit if the writers decided to make the ghost a bore. I guess he was right there. But he didn't have answers much more than that.

Next up, I decided to all another homegirl, I'll call Anna. I knew that Anna had gifts as well and might be able to get more insight. Anna said that she felt that the spirit might be trying to tell me something. She shared that she felt that the spirit was telling me that I needed to go back to doing my spiritual work, which I can agree with. I have an alter in my room that has traces of both Ali and Tracey, but I have not done enough to honor my ancestors in ceremony recently. I haven't even saged my home yet or lit a candle in remembrance. Coincidentally, I'd been thinking recently that I wanted to learn more about African spirituality. At least more reading up on African gods and goddesses, or even African astrology.

Anna also stated that she feels that I am protected by several spirits, connected through lineage, that do not play about me. And although I'd never outright thought or said it, I've long since felt the very same thing. Anna never mentioned her, but from a very young age, I've felt my father's mother looking down and protecting me. I always felt that she and I would be very tight, had we walked this planet at the same time. I even remember talking to her spirit when I was a child. She died before I was born, but that never stopped me from feeling close to her. 

Anna went on to share that there are quite a few people who feel very perplexed by my ability to seeming slide through some really tough situations, things that would destroy nearly anyone else. It seems that my angels have practically picked me up and dragged me out of some real doozies and people who wanted or expected me to fall flat on my face can't figure it out. Crazy thing is that I can't exactly figure it out either. I've known for years that someone or something bigger than me was making sure I was good. I also don't consider it much of a coincidence that most of the people who have done me dirty have suffered on a deep mental, spiritual, psychological, and even physical level, after the fact. And I've always been thankful for my spirits. And whenever I make it to the other side, I plan to continue the mission of looking out for others.

So I guess Anna inadvertently gave me the answer that I needed. Yes, I got some spirits watching my back and telling you to get my spiritual life in order. Be thankful. 

And I am.

***

So yeah, my pumpkin is a young man now. He's 17. He's kind, loving (in his own way), thoughtful, and highly intelligent. We've started discussing college and I'm so thankful that he's been cooperative helping me put together minor projects on the house, as we make it an actual home.

About a month or so back, The Boy and I decided it was time to get a second cat, to keep our first cat, Oliver, company. Pumpkin came with me to the shelter. We'd seen a large tabby, and were seconds from grabbing it. But decided to look around a bit more. And that's when we saw him. A huge white furball, 17 pounds. The Boy and I immediately knew that he was coming home with us.

In the car heading home, the massive creature managed to claw his way out of the box and walk around the car. I couldn't stop, so we had to pray that the kitty didn't do too much, until we could safely get home. Crazy enough, the lil rascal jumped onto my son's lap during the ride and very much let my son play with him. I pulled up to the house and my son anxiously walked behind me, afraid that I'd drop our new friend. I got him in, and the lil jerk went straight to my son's room, hiding under his bed and in his closet. He eventually came out, and even let me pet him once or twice. But it was clear that he belonged to Pumpkin. I served to merely empty the litter box and buy the food.

Speaking of food, the kid's new passion has been popcorn. Ironically, the smell of popcorn is one of my least favorite smells on this planet. I can honestly handle cigarette smoke way before I can handle popcorn. And God help you if the popcorn is burnt and leaves that horrid smell in he house.

Anyway, recently the Boy decided that he wanted to experiment with popcorn from a few seasonings he's heard about online and he's always careful to make sure to air out the house, so he doesn't have to listen to his mother complain about the smell. We'd also taken on the task of cat sitting my baby sister's cat, Evie, for the holiday. 

Evie and I were in my bedroom when my son came in and said "she's in here, good" and walked back out. I heard him cursing. I immediately jumped up to see what was wrong. My son had left the back patio open, and Oliver and our new white cat, Louie, had gotten out. I feel like I literally watched my child deflate in front of me. He apologized so hard, and I assured him that it was okay. Although I wasn't really sure, I assured my child that the cats would be back. I could genuinely see my son's heart break as he feared that both of the household cats were in the wild and may never be seen again. Watching my baby weep about those cats being lost absolutely destroyed me. And while I wanted so badly to rescue him from what he felt, I felt so proud in seeing how much my adored both of those cats. My baby loved those cats with his whole soul, as evidenced by how he felt at them being gone.

Naturally, as a mother, all I wanted was to protect my baby, and have him feel better. But making things worse, I was on an important call at work and couldn't immediately stop to take care of this. I assured my son that I was wrapping up a call and that I'd get with him as soon as I could. As I worked on finishing the paperwork, Pumpkin came in and informed me that both of the cats were under the house, in the crawlspace. Whew!!

It was bad for the cats to be outside, obviously, but I could deal with at least knowing where they were. A few minutes later, my son walked in holding Oliver. I felt relief for the first time in what seemed like forever. I can't front though, I cursed at the little bastard. Because I know Ollie and I know that he was the ringleader in their little escape. And in true cat fashion, Oliver looked at me like he had no idea what I was mad about, as he fell asleep at the foot of my bed.

When I was free of my call, I bundled up and walked outside with my son. He'd been keeping an eye on the entrance of the crawl space and he indicated a desire to stay out there for at least another 20 minutes, to see if Louie would emerge. I convinced my son that we'd lock the entrance when we were away, she he couldn't get out without one of us being there to grab him. Afterwards, Pumpkin came back inside. I knew that he worried about his cat and this was the first night since we'd gotten him, that he wouldn't be asleep at the foot of my son's bed. But at least we knew where he was.

As Pumpkin got ready to lay down for the night and my call was done, I decided to walk outside to see if I could get him. I'd stomped around in the house, hoping the noise would scare him. I even attempted to crawl underneath the house, only to learn that I am not, in fact, about that life. I made it about 5 feet before I knew that wasn't going to happen. I locked the crawlspace door for the night, and went back inside.

I called FAMM. As an HVAC technician, it was literally his job to go into crawl spaces. I was desperate. I know cats are pretty smart (some of them), but I was terrified that the jerk would somehow get hurt down there and I couldn't live with myself if my baby's cat died from a simple mistake of leaving the door open to air out the smell of popcorn. And I knew my child would never forgive himself if that cat got injured somehow. I texted FAMM "I'll pay you $100 if you come over here and grab my kid's cat from under the house." No response. I figured he was asleep. Nothing else to do but wait, I guess. I went to bed.

At 7am, FAMM called  me back. I explained the dilemma. He told me that I had nothing to worry about. He told me that he had some appointments to get to that day (the coldest and hottest days tend to be his busy season), but if his schedule cleared or if he had time, he'd come see what he could do. That sufficed and I went back to bed. Around 10am, my son announced to me that he'd gotten Louie out. The natural order was restored in my house again.

I was glad that my baby got his cat back. But I was so proud to know that my son was capable of loving someone or something so much. Not to make it about me, but the fact that my son has that level of love and compassion in him shows me that I'm doing okay over here. Way to go Malika, you Spiritual Baddie.