I turned my head to find the source of the voice. I saw a woman, a little younger than my mother, walking to a small blue car at the other end of the parking lot.
‘Lord, Please give me the strength to forgive her.’ A man’s voice, hushed and quiet, Looking around I couldn’t find the source. It was a quiet voice but for me to hear it amongst the crowd chatting just up the parking lot, he would have to be close by. There were a few people sitting in their vehicles, waiting for their families.
Then I saw him, sitting in a gray civic, four cars down. Holding a rosary in his hands as he prayed. I could hear him from here? Now my senses haven’t been dulled by injury or age but still, Being able to hear a man whisper a prayer 80 feet away, in his car like he was sitting next to me was a little surprising.
‘Fuck what am I doing? She’s my sister!’ Danny’s voice, I looked for him, among the sea of people wading through the lot. From this vantage point there was no hope of finding him but he had to be close by. Leaving the car I made my way back up the lot towards the crowd in search of my brother.
Dozens of voices filled my head, Dozens of different people speaking at once. What was happening? Why was I the only one reacting to them? Panic was setting in, what in the world was happening? My slow walk through the crowd became one of desperation as I pushed my way through, Searching for a familiar face. The countless voices were beginning to drown out the chatter, voices speaking their desires, regrets, ideas, fantasies…..and their sins.
“Just let it flow Sweetheart…..don’t cling to them…..” A strangely calming tenor pushed its way to the front of the barrage of voices, Feminine and soothing. This one felt different than the others, The others felt more like passing comments or rhetorical sentences. This one felt like it was meant for me. Stopping in my tracks, surrounded by a sea of people still chatting amongst themselves, I inhaled. I felt air rush into my lungs, filling and expanding my chest.
As I exhaled I did not cling to any of the voices singing in my head, instead I visualized them exiting me with the air in my lungs…..and it worked. My mind came to a restful state where only my voice could speak, while other voices passed by; Imparting what they had to say and then moving on. Like a passing conversation by someone on their phone.
“That’s it….now you’re getting it….” The same soothing tenor entered and passed by, Like a faint breeze carrying a message of support. I opened my eyes, still surrounded by the hundreds of people chatting about their daily lives. I could hear bits of their conversations, One speaking about how their dog had fallen ill, another about their son’s little league game. As I listened I noticed an underlying layer of conversation, one that wasn’t being discussed but…..thought about. The Pin dropped.
I was hearing what they were thinking! While the crowd droned on about their lives to one another, In their thoughts they were saying things they would never dare say aloud and somehow I could hear it.
Wait…..am I a Superhero? I had seen a few Superhero movies at a friend’s house. My Mother thought they were pandering and somehow linked to devil worshiping so we never got to see any of them. We did see the Passion of the Christ as a family…..four times.
I knew I should be freaking out, but the idea of being a Superhero was more than enough to overcome whatever panic, hearing other people’s thoughts would cause. I would need a cool name like….Overthinker!…….no,um……Read your Mind Girl!…..pfft not a chance.
Now it is becoming obvious that hearing what other people think isn’t really a flashy power you can brand yourself with. It’s more of a secondary power that would compliment a more obvious one, So Maybe I’m not a superhero.
Giggling softly, I pivoted and turned to head back towards the car, whatever was happening was a bit to take in but being able to hear what people think? Magicians and Mentalists the world over would kill for something like this, I could make some serious money by just reading someone’s mind as a street trick. Who knows maybe I’ll end up performing on one of those Magician shows dad likes so much? Maybe then Mom will-
I stopped dead in my tracks, fifteen feet from the car as a realization hit me. I could hear what people think about me…..what Mom thinks about me. As a young adult woman, I naturally always wanted to know what people thought about me but this would be too much. I would be able to hear exactly what my entire family thought about me and my decisions…..
“Cammy, Sweety we’re going home” My Mom called to me as she had finished chatting with a neighbor, she had linked her arm to my fathers and was in the car by the time I got to the door.
It was locked, I knocked on the window. “Danny! Let me in!” I yelled through the window at my brother. He was huddled and a bit standoffish. He had gotten so weird since he moved back in. ‘Don’t look at her, Don’t look at her.’ His thoughts flowed through my mind. Why was he ignoring me? I heard the lock open, My dad opened it from the driver’s seat. Finally out of the sun’s harsh rays I let out a puff of air, even in those 20 minutes I could feel my skin starting to burn.
The drive home was quiet, at least in the means no one was talking out loud. My father was singing Hotel california in his head, His favorite song which is on a near constant loop at the jewelry store. My Mother was thinking about the neighbor they were speaking to. Not real clear thoughts, but there was a lingering image of the mans smiling face in her head. This power was going to have its perks, I knew that right away. ‘Where did she get that?’ Danny’s voice again. I looked over at him and caught him looking at my arm.
I rarely wear jewelry, despite my father owning a store that sells it. It was rare I was given jewelry and the stuff I was given is the hand me downs my Mother didn’t want to wear anymore. Most of which was a bit too tacky for my tastes. Yet dangling from my wrist was a well worn, silver bracelet. It was simple and clean but obviously not mine.
I hooked it in my fingers and tried to pull it off, while the bracelet did hang on my thin wrist. When I tried to remove it it didn’t want to pull loose. Where did it come from? I didn’t own something like this or remember putting it on this morning.
Wait…..The Nun! She had clasped my wrist when I shook her hand, she must have put the bracelet on my wrist….but why? I remember staring into her stormy gray eyes, feeling like something was hidden behind them….Why would a Nun give me a bracelet? Much less a silver one? Weren’t they supposed to be devoid of material possessions like this?
Now that we were in the car and away from prying eyes I thought it would be a good idea to let my skin breathe a little, undoing the top two buttons of my blouse and rolling down the window to feel the breeze. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, It was so hot but the cool ocean wind was so nice. ‘One more button…’ Danny again, What was that about another button? I turned to look at him and he looked away, he had been staring at me again. Whatever he was hiding, he couldn’t keep it from me now.