Free Don't Die Dragonfly by Linda Joy Singleton Page B

I was so sure … ” My shoulders sagged. “How could I be wrong?”
    “It’s okay, honey.” Nona hugged me, her hands warm from being near the stove.
    “No. It’s not.” I looked around the room, seeing, hearing, feeling nothing.
    Despite the comfort of Nona’s arms, I’d never felt so alone.
    * * *
    How many times had I wished to be normal? No voices, ghosts, angels, or bossy spirit guides. Be careful what you wish for.
    When the phone rang later, I didn’t even try to guess who was calling. But I probably could have.
    “You sound down,” Josh said sympathetically.
    “Just tired.” I curled up with the phone on the living room couch.
    “So go to bed early and dream of me.”
    “Always.” I smiled.
    We didn’t really talk about anything in particular. Mostly, I enjoyed hearing his voice. He could read the phone book and make it sound interesting. We ended with plans to go out to the hospital on Saturday morning so I could watch Josh do magic for the kids.
    When I hung up, I felt even more alone. I missed Josh already, but it went deeper than that. The down mood lingered throughout dinner. I didn’t say much while Nona told me her good news about matchmaking Mr. Picky with a smart, easy-going Gemini woman. I half listened, toying with my food. There was an ache inside, as if I’d lost my best friend. And I caught myself several times tuning Nona out and straining to hear beyond ordinary sounds—hoping for a familiar bossy voice.
    Before I went to bed that night, I tried to cheer myself by plugging in the goofy green frog nightlight Dad had found for me in Mexico. It had a crooked froggy grin and buggy, crossed eyes fixed on a fly perched on its nose. In a cozy glow of green, I climbed underneath cool covers and fell asleep to sweet thoughts of Josh.
    Only my dreams took a dark turn and fluttered into a swarm of dragonflies—giant evil-eyed creatures. Blood and wings and danger. A monstrous dragon had Danielle in its claws, flying high beyond sky and stars. Then the claws opened and Danielle fell. She screamed, over and over, and I tried to catch her. But my arms wouldn’t move, bound together, helpless.
    I awoke to find the twisted covers binding my arms like ropes.
    Struggling to untangle myself, I pushed the covers on the floor and waited for my heart to slow. I glanced around my room, then looked again because something had changed. My nightlight! I realized with a jolt. The cross-eyed frog had been replaced with an angel-winged nightlight.
    “How did that—Opal! You did this!”
    Closing my eyes, I looked for my spirit guide. I never actually saw all of her—just fuzzy bits and pieces; it was a sense of her presence that I wanted. Like a bat flying blindly at night by internal sonar.
    “Opal, did you switch my nightlight?”
    I never did like frogs, her voice came through strong and sassy. Slimy creatures, caused plagues back in my day.
    “You’re here!” I rejoiced. “I couldn’t feel you. I thought you were gone.”
    I never left.
    “Why didn’t you answer?”
    There wasn’t anything of importance to say.
    “That never stopped you before. And now Nona doesn’t believe me.”
    It’s not my place to interfere.
    “You’ve been interfering my whole life. Why stop now?”
    You have an odd way of showing gratitude. Let me remind you that I am here as your guide, not as your servant.
    “What about being my friend? I needed you earlier and you let me down. I started to doubt myself—thought maybe I had lost my gift, lost you.”
    You’ve lost nothing; in fact, you will gain a new gift soon—if you are wise enough to recognize good fortune.
    “Nothing’s been good lately. Thanks to you, Nona thinks I’m delusional, and my attempt at helping someone could end up getting me in big trouble.”
    True blessings appear in many forms and wisdom is in the journey. My dear child, you vex me to no end. You have much to learn.
    A sigh and then she was gone.
    Walking over to my wall, I plugged