********One Week Later********
5:34pm
SOUTH PHILADELPHIA
The child was in the living room of his house, writing.
The mother, Lynn Sear, sat on the couch, reading a copy of Reader's
Digest. Things had been going great for the past week. Her son played King
Arthur in a school play, was finally accepted by his classmates, and was able to say goodbye to his friend..Malcom Crowe. Not only that, but there was an emotional barrier broken between mother and son. She learned that he could see ghosts and he had to help them to make them go away. And some had been helped.
But two things were very disturbing. First, that mysterious man who spoke with him last week. The ghost dressed in black. He didn't seem too interested in being helped. And secondly, he knew he had to tell his mother about the adventure he had recently. He took a deep breath, then spoke. "Mom? Can I tell you something?"
She stopped reading her book. She looked at him. "Yes, baby? What
is it?"
"You know how I help the ghosts..I listen to them, then help them fix what happened in life."
She nodded. "Right. Then they leave. You told me about Kyra. Her mother poisoned her. But you helped others?"
"Yes. But one ghost is mean. He wasn't very nice..and I think he died for a good reason-"
"Cole! What are you saying?! He deserved it?"
Her sudden outburst shocked him. He replied with nervousness in his voice, "I'm not sure. I suppose he was killed in a battle..in defense. When this man was with me, I didn't feel safe with him. I felt anger..evil."
Lynn squinted in acute interest. She had never heard him use that term before. "Huh..evil?"
He shrugged in bewilderment. "That's the only feeling, the only word I can think of, that can really describe it. He spoke of warfare, battle strategy. He laughed when I offered to help. He said I was nothing..weak. Am I?"
She knelt beside him. "Look at my face."
He did. He knew what was coming.
"You are *not* weak. You're special. Don't let anyone convince you that you're nothing. Got it?"
He answered softly, "Got it...but I wanted to tell you about someone I helped."
She smiled. "Okay, you can tell me all about it."
"Well..it was a woman killed in World War 2, in China. I had to
help reunite her with her living husband, so they could say one final
goodbye, to make peace. But I had to go to Chinatown to find the
man's son. Kwai Chang Caine."
She sat back, amused. "Kwai Chang? That's an unusual name."
"He's a priest. A Shambhala Master."
"Shambhala-what? What's that?"
"Hard to explain, but he's special like me, only better. We had to meet his dad Matthew in France."
She stood up, surprised. Her little boy went off to *another country*? "What..France? HOW could you get the money, Cole?"
"Easy, it was free. Caine opened this book, a bright light came out of it, and we were in France."
This was unbelievable. Cole doesn't have a habit of telling tall tales, but Lynn wasn't about to let him start. She sat back on the couch and ran her hands through her hair. "Cole..c'mon. A magic book? That's not right. There's no such thing as magic books."
He rose up on his feet, agitated. "It's the Book of Shambhala! It took us to France."
She shook her head. "Look, you know you shouldn't tell stories."
"It's NOT a story. It happened! You finally believed that I didn't take Grandma's bumblebee pendant. Why can't you believe me about *this*?"
"This is entirely different."
"What if I could give you proof? I can write Kwai Chang's son, Peter. He's a cop."
"Hmm. A priest and a cop?"
"Yeah, Peter's a detective."
"He would know that this kind of thing can't happen."
"Mom, you wouldn't believe the things they face everyday. Peter told me a little. Bad guys who kill with their thoughts, tiger-killers, demons, mercs.."
"Look, Cole..he could just be pulling your leg."
"Fine! I'll go write him a letter myself.." He runs out of the room.
The red-blanket tent was intact. The boy was underneath, shaking. Why can't his mother trust him? How come she won't believe? "Oh, I wish I had my friend now..Malcom!" Yes, Malcom would know what to do. If there was ever a time when he needed needed Dr. Crowe, it was now. The child closed his eyes in anxiety.
Then, immediately, he saw an unusual image.
*******
[There was some kind of monastery. Fire. Explosions. People dying and screaming. There was a priest who was dressed in orange/yellow robes attacking the ninjas. It looked sort of like Caine, only without hair. "No..NO!!"
The leader of the black-garbed attackers quickly removed his hood-mask. It's the same man that Cole saw last week in the church! The man yelled at Caine, "What you cannot possess..you must *destroy*!"]
*******
Cole abruptly opened his eyes. The vision was gone..he wiped a tear from his eye. This was very terrible. Now, he KNEW the ghost was evil. He had to find a way to make these images go away. But there doesn't seem to be any way to do it. The man doesn't want help, he wants vengeance. The boy remembered what Malcom told him.
["I think I know how to make them go away. What do you think these ghosts want?"]
He had told Malcom that they just want help.
["Exactly, that's what I think too. They all want help, even the scary ones. Everyone wants to be heard. When they come, when you see them..listen to what they have to say. And then help them."]
He wasn't so sure that ALL spirits were like that, not after last week. He had said, "But what if they don't want help? What if they're just angry and want to hurt somebody?" Well, this was one of those ghosts. A vengeful spirit who thrived relentlessly on hatred. And who would stop at nothing to complete their destructive cycle of revenge.
5:34pm
SOUTH PHILADELPHIA
The child was in the living room of his house, writing.
The mother, Lynn Sear, sat on the couch, reading a copy of Reader's
Digest. Things had been going great for the past week. Her son played King
Arthur in a school play, was finally accepted by his classmates, and was able to say goodbye to his friend..Malcom Crowe. Not only that, but there was an emotional barrier broken between mother and son. She learned that he could see ghosts and he had to help them to make them go away. And some had been helped.
But two things were very disturbing. First, that mysterious man who spoke with him last week. The ghost dressed in black. He didn't seem too interested in being helped. And secondly, he knew he had to tell his mother about the adventure he had recently. He took a deep breath, then spoke. "Mom? Can I tell you something?"
She stopped reading her book. She looked at him. "Yes, baby? What
is it?"
"You know how I help the ghosts..I listen to them, then help them fix what happened in life."
She nodded. "Right. Then they leave. You told me about Kyra. Her mother poisoned her. But you helped others?"
"Yes. But one ghost is mean. He wasn't very nice..and I think he died for a good reason-"
"Cole! What are you saying?! He deserved it?"
Her sudden outburst shocked him. He replied with nervousness in his voice, "I'm not sure. I suppose he was killed in a battle..in defense. When this man was with me, I didn't feel safe with him. I felt anger..evil."
Lynn squinted in acute interest. She had never heard him use that term before. "Huh..evil?"
He shrugged in bewilderment. "That's the only feeling, the only word I can think of, that can really describe it. He spoke of warfare, battle strategy. He laughed when I offered to help. He said I was nothing..weak. Am I?"
She knelt beside him. "Look at my face."
He did. He knew what was coming.
"You are *not* weak. You're special. Don't let anyone convince you that you're nothing. Got it?"
He answered softly, "Got it...but I wanted to tell you about someone I helped."
She smiled. "Okay, you can tell me all about it."
"Well..it was a woman killed in World War 2, in China. I had to
help reunite her with her living husband, so they could say one final
goodbye, to make peace. But I had to go to Chinatown to find the
man's son. Kwai Chang Caine."
She sat back, amused. "Kwai Chang? That's an unusual name."
"He's a priest. A Shambhala Master."
"Shambhala-what? What's that?"
"Hard to explain, but he's special like me, only better. We had to meet his dad Matthew in France."
She stood up, surprised. Her little boy went off to *another country*? "What..France? HOW could you get the money, Cole?"
"Easy, it was free. Caine opened this book, a bright light came out of it, and we were in France."
This was unbelievable. Cole doesn't have a habit of telling tall tales, but Lynn wasn't about to let him start. She sat back on the couch and ran her hands through her hair. "Cole..c'mon. A magic book? That's not right. There's no such thing as magic books."
He rose up on his feet, agitated. "It's the Book of Shambhala! It took us to France."
She shook her head. "Look, you know you shouldn't tell stories."
"It's NOT a story. It happened! You finally believed that I didn't take Grandma's bumblebee pendant. Why can't you believe me about *this*?"
"This is entirely different."
"What if I could give you proof? I can write Kwai Chang's son, Peter. He's a cop."
"Hmm. A priest and a cop?"
"Yeah, Peter's a detective."
"He would know that this kind of thing can't happen."
"Mom, you wouldn't believe the things they face everyday. Peter told me a little. Bad guys who kill with their thoughts, tiger-killers, demons, mercs.."
"Look, Cole..he could just be pulling your leg."
"Fine! I'll go write him a letter myself.." He runs out of the room.
The red-blanket tent was intact. The boy was underneath, shaking. Why can't his mother trust him? How come she won't believe? "Oh, I wish I had my friend now..Malcom!" Yes, Malcom would know what to do. If there was ever a time when he needed needed Dr. Crowe, it was now. The child closed his eyes in anxiety.
Then, immediately, he saw an unusual image.
*******
[There was some kind of monastery. Fire. Explosions. People dying and screaming. There was a priest who was dressed in orange/yellow robes attacking the ninjas. It looked sort of like Caine, only without hair. "No..NO!!"
The leader of the black-garbed attackers quickly removed his hood-mask. It's the same man that Cole saw last week in the church! The man yelled at Caine, "What you cannot possess..you must *destroy*!"]
*******
Cole abruptly opened his eyes. The vision was gone..he wiped a tear from his eye. This was very terrible. Now, he KNEW the ghost was evil. He had to find a way to make these images go away. But there doesn't seem to be any way to do it. The man doesn't want help, he wants vengeance. The boy remembered what Malcom told him.
["I think I know how to make them go away. What do you think these ghosts want?"]
He had told Malcom that they just want help.
["Exactly, that's what I think too. They all want help, even the scary ones. Everyone wants to be heard. When they come, when you see them..listen to what they have to say. And then help them."]
He wasn't so sure that ALL spirits were like that, not after last week. He had said, "But what if they don't want help? What if they're just angry and want to hurt somebody?" Well, this was one of those ghosts. A vengeful spirit who thrived relentlessly on hatred. And who would stop at nothing to complete their destructive cycle of revenge.