“Hello, Galia. My name is Morgan Freeman. I know you never expected a call from me, as famous as I am, but I've been given your name as someone who can help me with a situation at my new house.” The familiar voice both rumbled and purred through the earpiece of her phone.
“I’d love to help, if I can, Mr. Freeman.” She squeaked deferentially. “Would you like to tell me about the situation?”
He laughed softly before continuing, “I don’t think even a spiritualist like yourself will believe it without seeing what is happening around here.”
“Then I guess I will need your address,” Galia replied and then held her breath.
Mr. Freeman laughed again and gave her his address along with special instructions for getting inside safely. Between the manifestation she would be assessing, his security, and his beehives, a little caution would be necessary.
~
She stood with arms outstretched as one guard patted her down and another ran a metal detector along every surface of her body. She resisted the urge to shake her head at this abundance of caution. Three screenings preceded this one. Finally, the two guards nodded agreement and allowed her to knock on the front door.
“Welcome to my home. Thank you for being so patient. My security team considers me a national treasure.” Morgan Freeman stepped forward to greet her by clasping one of hers I both of his which she found as warm and reassuring as his voice.
“I can tell.”
“Though I think Johnny is just interested in protecting my bees.”
The young man with golden curls poking out from under his cap tilted his head in tacit agreement as he patted her shoe one last time with the metal detector. “All clear, sir.” He nodded politely and then both guards stepped out of the room.
“Now let me try to explain my situation to you,” Mr. Freeman gestured for her to follow him into a long hallway, leading to a spiral staircase. “The problem seems to be in the attic.”
Galia nodded her head as she gently ran her fingers along a bundle of sage in her pocket. “Some sort of manifestation then?”
“You could say that, but it doesn’t seem to be disturbed by the humans in the household.”
“Oh?”
“Whatever it is has been trying to destroy my apiary.”
“Pardon me?”
“My bee yard. Something keeps raining down random debris on it at night. And I can’t have that. I love my bees. They do so much for the world.” His deep voice softened as his eyes grew moist.
“Then let me see what I can do, sir.”
He chuckled softly at her formal language and led her up the circular staircase. Then down another long hallway to a slightly wider than normal door. With the turn of an ornate metal key, the door swung outward revealing shallow stairs leading up into a shadowy space. As Galia began ascending the stairs, Mr. Freeman paused at the bottom of the stairs.
“Should I…?” He began, gesturing past her into the darkness.
“It might be best for me to make contact on my own,” Galia started up the stairs, pulling a pen light from her pocket and shining it on the stairs ahead of her.
She paused at the top of the stairs where peaked roofs ran off in every direction. “How big is this house?”
Her whisper stirred more than just the dust on the shelf beside her. Something rustled through the air—the sort of thing others wouldn’t notice while chills ran up her spine. She gently lowered herself to the floor, assuming a relaxed meditative pose as she closed her eyes and cleared her mind. After a few minutes absorbing the energy of the room, she slowly opened her eyes and softly addressed the room.
“Is someone here?”
A soft breeze blew across her face, returning the shivers to her spine.
“Is there something you need?”
More tingles.
“Does it involve the bees?”
Nothing.
She raised an eyebrow and spoke softer. “Was that just to get attention?”
Another soft breeze caressed both cheeks.
She closed her eyes again and opened herself to the entity in the room. Her breathing became shallow and then increased as images filled her mind. As the images faded, she stood slowly.
“Thank you for letting me help you,” she addressed the room softly as she pulled the sage and a lighter from her pocket.
As she slowly spread the fragrant smoke throughout the attic, she looked for the wooden box from her vision. She let the sage purify that section of the room for a little longer before carrying the box downstairs where her client patiently waited.
“Well, young lady?”
“If you let me take this box with me, your bees won’t be disturbed anymore.”
“What’s in it?”
“I don’t know and I wasn’t planning on opening it,” her eyes conveyed a deeper meaning.
“You’re the expert. Should I write the check now?”
She smiled. “I trust you will write the check in a few weeks when you are reassured that the danger to your bees is gone.”
“Sounds fair. It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Galia.”
She blushed.
He ignored her blush and began regaling her about his bees as he led her back to the front door, where Johnny and his fellow guard waited to walk her and the box back to her car.
~~~
Any resemblance to the home of the true Morgan Freeman is coincidental. While I love to tell a good story, I don’t need to be arrested for wanting to know too much about the iconic actor. I am sure he has enough adoring fans on both sides of the veil :)
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