The Linda Letters by Gabriel O'Sullivan: The psychic Ms. MacNamara

561

10 August 2012

R. Linda:

Lyn MacNamara is a psychic investigator of ghosts and strange phenomena. She is a platinum-blond woman in her 50s who has converted her front porch into her "psychic office." She has a little sign out front of her house that says, "PSYCHIC READER," and underneath in smaller letters, "Palm Readings, Tarot Cards, Ghost Investigations." Well, this last, as you can imagine, is her number-one moneymaker.

We live in haunted New England, and well, from New York's Tarrytown (Sleepy Hollow) all the way to Bar Harbor, Maine, Ms. MacN has travelled up and down the northeastern U.S. in her quest to prove that things that go bump in the night truly do exist Harriet, I mean Linda.

Now, what has this to do with yours truly? Nothing really, just that I've noticed the sign as I drive past her abode on my way to the highway. I've seen local news articles around Halloween about Ms. MacN, usually in a misty cemetery looking up as if in a trance, in tight communication with the spirit world and such, but up until now, I have paid very little attention. That be until I was asked by me old neighbour to come to a seance. Yes, that is what he said, though I made him repeat it because I thought I heard wrong.

Well, R. Linda, the story behind THIS paranormal invitation was that HE came home from the farm store about a month back, and as he opened the door to enter his kitchen, he heard voices, yes male voices, conversing. As he stepped inside, perplexed as no one had been at home, he walked toward the living room where said voices were, and no one was there. This made him pause and think, did he, or did he not, hear voices when he first walked in? He could have sworn he did. He searched the entire house, but there was no one about. Well, about two hours later, his wife comes in from grocery shopping, and he tells her what happened.

"My. that is odd. I came into the house after my salon appointment last Thursday when you were at the tractor show, and I heard people talking. I even stopped in the kitchen, afraid to move, but somehow, I steeled myself to peek into the living room, and the voices stopped. There was no one there!"

As you can imagine, THIS led to a discussion where the two of them compared notes of times past and all the strange things that seemed to go on that neither had told the other of. They frightened each other pretty well, but these are native New Englanders of a hearty stock, and soon they came to the conclusion to investigate the matter and not be scared unless something materialised to scare them.

Well, Tonya and I got an invitation to come down to the old house for a seance. She thought it was a joke, but then we decided, OK, we had nothing to do, let's be amused for an evening. So a few Saturdays ago, it dawned with cloudy skies and all day it got darker and darker until we've had thunder and lightning storms with a good bit of wind and pouring rain. It continued into the night this way. We thought the atmosphere was ripe for spirits. Yup, we laughed about it, I know we are not being respectful of the walking dead, but come on!

So around 8 p.m., we went on down to our old neighbour's abode and found that Lois (our flasher neighbour), old Henry, the old man's farmhand, and the old couple's son and his wife were there along with the illustrious Ms. MacNamara and her "team." Yes, her platinum blondness was there wearing a caftan of a rich dark purple. Her turban matched the dress, with ringlets of very light blond tresses escaping around her ears and entangling in the biggest gold hoop earrings I've ever seen on a living woman. She had an Egyptian collar around her neck and was bangle braceletted up to the elbows on both arms. But not to forget, she was sporting gold high heels with sparkles. Yup, Tonya didn't feel underdressed, just not dressed for a Halloween party. Silly thing, my wife.

The team was there too! Three geeky guys who were acting somewhat self-important. They had equipment; yes, they did! Real live ghostbusters, and I was going to see them at work. They had cameras set up in the living room, a magnetic field apparatus that picked up magnetic fields and deciphered if the field was caused by, say, the electric timer on the furnace or AC or if it was a GHOST! They had recording devices and earphones that enhanced sounds. I would instead have been with THEM than being on the seance end.

All was explained and questions naturally arose, some answered, many not. But that was why Ms. MacN was there, to get those pesky questions answered. The main ones were:

WHO IS HERE AMONG THE LIVING?
HOW MANY ARE YOU?
DO YOU MEAN HARM TO THESE FOLKS?
WILL YOU GO AWAY NICELY?

Stuff like that. This was told in the kitchen. We were not allowed in the dining room until "it was time" for the seance to start. I looked in the dining room, and from the kitchen door to the "seance table", there were glitter stars in a rainbow of colours strewn from doorway to table along with copper pennies. Tonya muttered something about vacuuming that all up the next day. This was to make the ghostly atmosphere enhance itself, whatever that means. The table was round (an old kitchen table the old couple had stored away and dug out for special use like this one!), and a long gauzy spider webby tablecloth was over it with chairs around. The fireplace was not going. Well, it was 80 degrees outside; it would have been a bit hot. But most fascinating were the two cameras with infrared film to catch ghosts set up at either end of the room.

While Ms. MacN explained the procedure, the lights flickered, sending everyone into fright mode.

"People . . . it is not unusual for spirit to signal . . . they are with us tonight," she said, sounding very familiar to me. She even looked familiar, but I couldn't place her.

Some of us joked about adding a little whiskey to our tea to calm the jitters, but Ms. MacN did not approve of this. She wanted us "sharp" for any communications, be they whispers in our brains (?), the feeling of being touched by an unseen hand (gulp), a feeling of cold (like the grave), or breath or breeze playing by us.

At five minutes to nine, we settled around the table, man, woman, man, woman and so on. Ms. MacN lit the candles, and I noticed more glitter stars and half moons scattered about the table, winking in the flickering candlelight. We sat taking long inhales of breath in unison through our noses and exhaling through our mouths to push all thoughts and negativities from our bodies and minds ("and please don't exhale in the direction of the candles."). I was glad we started this slowly because I hyperventilate easily, and asking for a paper bag to breathe into at that moment would have broken the 'spell', I'm sure. As the old grandfather clock struck the hour, we held hands in the circle and were told to close our eyes and let our minds go blank. Easier said than done when sitting in near darkness, thunder rumbling in the background and feeling creepy that we weren't alone per se'.

"I call . . . upon the spirits of this house . . . to come to us this night," Ms. MacN said in that all-too-familiar voice, which I was trying not to concentrate on instead of on spirits as she had directed.

The candles flickered as if in response. That gave me the willies, but we were sitting next to a fireplace, so how drafty is that, I ask you.

"I call upon the spirits of this house . . . to come forth." Ms. MacN said, her eyes closed, mine slits as I watched her through me eyelashes.

All was quiet except for the flicker of the candle flames now and then or Old Henry clearing his throat nervously. Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder sounded and jolted us all to look around wide-eyed. All except Ms. MacN, who kept her composure and eyes closed. We rejoined her as lightning flashed behind our closed lids and the rain pounded the windows.

"I ask the spirits to make themselves known."

Yeah, right, I thought with a smile on my face. That was until there was a great crash above the stairs, and we all let go of each other and stood up, all except Ms. MacN, who told us to sit back down and by no means break the circle. We did like good little sheep, but we were unnerved!

"Probably the cat," my neighbour's wife muttered.

As we settled, I thought, " It must be some big cat," if you can call it that. We went back into the breathing technique and started over because we had broken the first chain. I noticed the breathing in and out was a little faster because we were startled, and again, the hope I did not hyperventilate took me over.

"Spirits. . . give us a sign. . . you are with us." Ms. MacN said with a bit of demand in her familiar voice.

"I think they did," the old neighbour's son said.

We were five minutes into this when I felt someone tickling under me nose with a feather. I opened my eyes to laugh at Tonya, who I thought was the culprit. There was no one there. Imagine my surprise, but as soon as I opened me eyes, there was no one there, only Ms. MacN looking directly at me from across the table, and the three team members scattered about the room, nowhere near me.

"Tell us . . . what is happening. . . to you. . . Gabriel?" She said.

Talk about feeling like a complete fool! I noticed Tonya open one eye to glance at me, and well, there was no way out. I told them what I felt. Tonya giggled and was told no levity, or she'd be the cause of spirits to leave.

"Are . . . are . . . do you mean . . . THEY are here?" Lois asked, her voice quivering.

"SPIRITS!" Ms. MacN ignored Lois and went right back to it, making Lois jump, "SHOW YOURSELVES!"

It was quiet. There was only the ticking of the clock, the light tapping of the rain, the rumble of thunder. I could hear me breathing and nothing else when suddenly Lois made a strange sound.

"Yaaahhh." And she moved her shoulders and head as if something was touching her.

"DO NOT LET GO HANDS!" Ms. MacN ordered. "Lois, what do you sense?"

"Someone is touching me," she said, still squirming.

"Tell it to stop."

"STOP!" She said, and suddenly, she was still. "Its . . . its . . . gone."

Talk about creeped out!

"Spirit, you are of a playful nature, but I ask you . . . to give me information to establish you are serious. . . and here for a reason."

The candles flickered, and no one moved. It seemed moments before Ms. MacN, ghost hunter extraordinaire, told us to keep our chain formed and our breathing in sync because she felt a presence coming over her.

We waited and were not disappointed because as the lightning flashed and the rain pounded, Ms. MacN's chair squeaked as she went into a "trance state."

"I get a J initial, Jennifer? Does anyone. . . in the circle know . . . a Jennifer?"

Well, hell, that's a common name. I was sure we all knew one.

"Aniston?" The son quipped.

"I . . . I . . . I have a sister, Jennifer," the son's wife said tentatively.

"Ah, I am told Jennifer. . . is expecting." Ms. MacN said, ignoring the son's remark.

"Uh, not that I know of, " the wife said, shaking her head, "she's not seeing anyone or married."

Well, it's time for the immaculate conception number 2, I thought smugly.

"Not a baby, she's expecting . . . something." Ms. MacN said.

Yeah, we were all expecting mail tomorrow and, if we work, a paycheck. Gees, I thought to meself, I could do this.

"She's expecting . . . to hear . . . if she got that job with the city . . . or not." Ms. MacN said as the wife gasped.

"Oh my God! How did you know that?"

"Spirit is telling me that the job will go through, and she will be happy. I am getting an L initial. Does anyone know a Lynn or Linda?"

"Uh, that might be me," I said.

"Linda . . . is far away from you. She's not . . . well and not telling you the extent of it." She said.

"She's not been as chatty lately," I said, "but what be this?"

"She's . . . not wanting you to know."

You did tell me later you weren't well, so there was THAT. But at the time, I was clueless, so I considered that information false. But who knew? Ms. MacN, it seems.

Me questions were ready to pour out, but I could not ask because Larry, one of the "team," quietly said, "We have activity over Lois's head."

Well, as you can imagine this did not sit well with Lois. She was all upset about the feely-touchy thing and now she heard there was something going on over her head.

"Wha . . . wha . . .. wha . . ."

"Lois, please take some deep breathes . . . you are protected . . . within the circle of white light."

I don't know about Lois, but oh yeah, that made me feel safe.

"WHO . . . is there?" Ms. MacN asked. It was deathly quiet, but through my eyelashes, I could see the magnetic field machine was blinking up a storm. Nothing electrical seemed to be causing the machine to pick up. I had a million questions running through me noggin, but I had to remain mum not to upset the circle and chase the ghosties away. Sigh.

"There are three images on camera near the closet door," the team member in charge of the cameras said quietly as he peered through the viewfinder. I am recording them . . . now." I could hear the camera whirring. I tried looking toward the closet, but I couldn't see anything there. I could feel the hairs on my neck rising and a chill running down my back at this bit of information.

"There is a woman . . . and two men . . . here," Ms. MacN said, "They're part of a family with the initial "H". They have . . . been here to protect the house . . . if you have questions for them . . . please ask . . . one at a time . . . and I will tell you what . . . they have to say, as they channel through me."

Me old neighbour cleared his throat and spoke up: "I know of a family built this place with a name that began with H. Is one of them John?"

Silence.

"Ask again," Ms. MacN instructed, and he did. "Yes, John is here," she said after a wee time.

"What crashed upstairs?" His wife asked nervously.

There was silence, and then Ms. MacN said in a dreamy voice, "You'll find nothing . . . it was our letting you know we heard your call."

Oddly, I almost wished we could run upstairs and see what had smashed. I was also aware that me old neighbour had offered up information, but then this came.

"Jacob and his wife . . . Mary S are . . . here . . . as well." Ms. MacN's voice was still in that dreamy quality as I looked through me eyelashes at the Missus of the house and got a start. Could it be? OR did Ms. MacN have some knowledge of the house? I had to wonder.

"Mary S?" The old lady questioned.

"Yes, Mary S. She is . . . sitting next to you. And yes, her last name sounds like sheep has . . . to do with . . . sheep." Ms. MacN's dreamy voice was almost a whisper.

SHEEP! What the hell? AND SITTING AT THE TABLE WITH US? Really? I was totally crazed with questions I couldn't ask and interrupt. Oi!

"So they are friendly? Here to protect?" The son's wife asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes . . . friendly . . . to protect. They discuss this often . . . in this very room." Ms. MacN repeated. I noticed the magnetic field machine had stopped blinking, and at the same time, the guy looking into the viewfinder looked up as if the images had stopped. Ms. MacNamara shook her turbaned head and opened her eyes as if coming out of a coma.

"They . . . are . . . gone. You may . . . open your eyes and let go of hands." She directed. One of the men who had sat with a tape recorder turned it off and turned on the lights. We sat there looking at each other, blinking from the sudden glare of lights.

"The spirits only stay so long before . . . they leave us. To get more, we would have to . . . do this again."

NO THANKS. That was enough for me, thank you very much.

"I want to know if we can go upstairs and see what crashed because whatever it was, it left a mess," the son said.

Ms. MacN nodded, and two of the team and all of us except Lois and the son's wife opted to stay downstairs with her smug psychic self.

We turned the lights on in the darkened house (one of the requirements for the seance was that the entire house, but the kitchen, should be dark). As we neared the second floor, the son said to his father, "It sounded like it came from my old room. " His father agreed that it did.

The son opened the door and switched on the light. He and his father stepped in followed by me and Tonya and the rest came in to see as we moved in. Nothing was amiss. We opened all the rooms and turned on the lights. Nothing was disturbed anywhere. The cat had been sleeping on the old couple's bed and looked at us indignant that we had disturbed it. It was odd, very odd; we all heard the crash, yet nothing could we find and we even ended up in the attic. This disturbed everyone more than anything else. There was no explanation. Once we were back down with the others, we found they were going through the information gathered by the machines. The magnetic field machine had a strip that fed out of another unit the time and field measurements when the machine went off. It was perfectly timed with all the ghostly activity of what had felt like a feather under me proboscis. Lois, too, when something was touching her head, the crash upstairs, the communications with John, Jacob and Mary (who became Jesus, Mary and Joseph to me Catholic brain). The best was the camera. I will share what they shared with me, but first a little research.

Seems there was a family with an H initial built the old place. Yes, there was a husband and wife who lived in it with a bachelor brother of the husband. Yes, their names were John (brother), Jacob (husband) and wife Mary. I did this research with me old neighbour since he knew a bit about the house, and I knew how to use Ancestry.com. It took a bit of digging. We had the Mary name, but we had two Marys, not knowing which was the right one or what the last name was. We had exhausted all Ancestry.com had to offer and needed to go to the historical society. On Wednesday, me neighbour went down to the historical society. After much digging, they were able to prove that Mary Shepard was the wife of Jacob, not Mary Sharp who turned out to be the other Mary we were confused over. This information was not easy to find and was the only place to look. The question to the historian was this: Has anyone come in lately to research the name, family, or house. The answer . . .no. So Ms. MacN was close with the sheep reference and had got the names of the spirits correct. But how did she do that?

I also found out that a few times in over 40 years the old couple have lived in the house, they were forewarned it seems ahead of time of impending disasters, like the time they went to bed, but "something" made the old lady get up to recheck the kitchen fireplace. She came down to an ember, burning a hole in the floor. She said, "Something told me to take a last look." Then, there was the time the breadmaker caught fire. She had set it to make bread for breakfast on its timer, not having used the machine in a long time. She neglected to see the wire was frayed. She awoke in the early morning when "something" told her to go into the kitchen. When she got there she smelt an electrical smell and noticed smoke coming from the outlet where the bread maker was plugged in. There were other examples through the years, but can I say she was spoken to by a ghost to go see these things? I dunno. She couldn't explain them, and I sure can't.

As to Jennifer, she was indeed expecting . . . a new job and pay hike. So there you have that. As for yourself, you informed me you thought you were sick a few days later. And Ms. MacNamara (it finally dawned on me while watching ABC Nightly News, reminded me of Diane Sawyer wearing a turban!), I was bursting to tell you all this, but I was awaiting the photos, which, were less than I had hoped, but without any further ado, I am attaching them anyway.