Free Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) by Pamela Davis Page A

believe
me. Damn it! When is somebody going to listen to me?" she shouted aloud to the
surrounding desert as she slammed the phone on the ground.
    "Umm, Margaret, dear," said Irene from the porch
of a square stucco house.
    "What? What do you want?"
    "Don't bite my head off, first of all. Just
wanted to remind you of our conversation about calling the press. Maybe if you
did some interviews, got your name out there, maybe people would listen."
    "Oh, yeah, right. I'm sure they'd listen. I
would probably end up on one of those crazy daytime talk shows with the caption
under my name 'Psychic Attorney Predicts Disasters,' and still nobody would
listen to me. Not a good idea, Irene."
    "No, no, that's not what I'm talking about. What
if you tried the bigger-named journalists. Like that handsome anchor from NBC, or
Maria--what's her last name--from SNN. She seems nice and she doesn't do tabloid
stuff."
    "Sure, I'll just call her up and tell her I
predicted the California earthquake and now I'm predicting a disastrous
hurricane in the Gulf. Of course she will believe me--why didn't I think of
that?"
    Irene stared calmly at the tall, pacing woman,
wondering at the volatile intensity Margaret displayed at times. She said
slowly, "There is really no need to be so sarcastic. Do what you did with that
Andy Jordan just now. Tell her you know she won't believe you, but when it
happens it will prove you were telling the truth and then maybe she will
believe you the next time. Because there are going to be lots of next times,
Margaret, and you know it."
    Adjusting her beige cowboy hat more firmly on
her head, Margaret took a deep breath as she thought about what the shaman
said. It was probably the only way to get anyone to believe her. Make sure they
get her name and telephone number, give them the warning and ask them to call
afterward.
    "Okay, maybe you are right. If the scientists
refuse to believe me, then maybe the journalists will get through to them.
After all, we live in a world where nothing is actually true until we see it on
the evening news."
    Cape Fair, Mrs. Philpott's House
    "Knock, knock," Jessica sang out, rapping her knuckles
on Mrs. Philpott's screen door. "Mind some company?"
    Mrs. Philpott walked briskly into the living
room after closing the computer room door firmly behind her. "Not at all," she
said smiling warmly. "Come right on in...and Samantha's with you! Well, hello,
sweetie, how are you doing today?"
    "Just fine. Can Harry come in too?" asked
Samantha.
    "Sure, Harry's my favorite dog, you know," Mrs.
Philpott said, grinning at Sam and ruffling the fur on Harry's back as she
petted him.
    "He's my favorite dog too!" Sam exclaimed as she
hugged Harry tightly. Harry responded to the attention with vigorous
tail-wagging.
    Mrs. Philpott turned to Jessica and motioned to
her to sit in the overstuffed chair by the bay window as she asked, "How are you
doing Jessica? How's everybody doing?" Passing out glasses of lemonade and a
bowl of water to Harry, Mrs. Philpott finally sat in the rocker across from
Jessica.
    Jessica glanced across the room to Sam who was
stretched out on Mrs. Philpott's couch with Harry by her side. "Today's walk to
your house is the longest one yet for her. The doctors say she needs the
exercise every day, but to keep an eye on her." Jessica shrugged and said, "She
seems better, but it's hard not to worry and--"
    "Mom," Sam interrupted, "I'm just gonna rest
here for a minute 'cause Harry's tired from walking."
    "Okay, Sam," Jessica replied. "You let me know
when Harry feels ready to go home."
    "Okay Mommie," came the reply, followed by a
yawn.
    Jessica's look of concern gave way to a slight
smile as she talked with Mrs. Philpott in low tones so that Sam couldn't hear. "Harry
has been a godsend through all this. He never leaves her side, unless he's sure
she's sleeping soundly. And if you think I'm a worrier, you should see Harry if
he thinks she's being too active! The other day he came in and tugged