Free Spirit Wars by Mon D Rea Page B

stand of the Order was to
keep their distance not only because of religious doctrine but because, in an
institution like an orphanage, if one went around doing a reading for every
child, no one would ever get sent off. No child would ever get adopted if we
investigated every mystery and suspicion. Deep down though, the kids all wanted
a little extra screening just to be safe, especially those who were next in
line to be given away to almost complete strangers.
    This
was the very real need the other orphans had when they tried to consult me on
every inquiring, potential family. They would slip away an article that either
the husband or the wife possessed and then pass this on to my seeing hands.
This would most often be done in the middle of the initial interview and the
Mother Superior would know exactly what mischief was afoot as the orphans
spirited away a handkerchief, walking-stick, hairbrush, even a whole purse one
time; all precariously returned before anyone noticed they were missing. The
Mother Superior knew but was forced to keep quiet for fear of a scandal,
instead she would do her best to engage the visiting couple.
    More
than a few times, I prevented the supervisors from making the grave mistake of
sending a child to a molester or an abusive family; something that would’ve
sent them to court and shut down the entire orphanage. And in their heart of
hearts they were grateful, not to mention the imperiled orphans.
    But,
like I said, I was sometimes forced to turn a blind eye. There would be
outcomes I couldn’t predict and things well beyond a teenager’s control. Those
always filled me with remorse and I’d be disconsolate for days.  The
Sisters would know exactly what the problem was but speak nothing of it. Only
when my talents were really needed, like when they were thinking of hiring a
new help or investigating a case of theft, would I be sent for. Most of the
time the nuns sympathized without encouraging.
    People
called me the Spirit Sherlock with both approval and disapproval, but of all
those people, no one ever suggested the need for moderation until the name
began to weigh upon my small shoulders.
    At
first, it was all a game or a hero’s blustering on TV. But while I could relate
with the main character from a safe distance and experience the world without
its actual consequences, I soon found myself the star of my own life and the
stakes piled up too high for me to glimpse any hope of release.

  Chapter X: The Crow Man

    Day
by day my abilities grew. Being one of a kind, I felt as though I was cast down
a dried-up well where I was to spend the rest of my life in solitary
confinement. Looking back, I can’t help but marvel at myself for surviving the
isolation with a maturity and courage far beyond my years. On the other hand,
it also feels as though most of my childhood had passed by while I was in some
sort of trance.
    On my
own, I learned how to control my talents and to avoid exerting myself. I became wary
of very old items that had passed through too many hands as these could be
damaging to both body and mind. During the couple of times I had to learn the
hard way, I was invariably left drained.
    I
also learned to keep away from objects that belonged to those who had already
crossed over. In the same way I chose to keep silent about the balloons and
their fatal implication, I knew there were things man wasn’t ready to know.
    Because
of my extreme unconventionality, the supervisors at Blessed Children’s
despaired of ever finding a family to take me in.
    But
then the day came. A man came.
    This
was to be the last reading I ever did. The last case of the Spirit Sherlock
that would end in my taking off the mantle to the dismay of all my fans.
    The visitor was a man in a luxurious black trench coat and fedora
whose brim he kept low over his eyes. He didn’t let the Sisters or any of the
kids take his coat, which conveyed his intention of being there only for a
quick visit, nothing unheard of