Our story is weird but I love to tell it. I was born in a small farming community in NC, way back in 1960. It was very different then, before computers, and cell phones, and even air conditioning… or clothes dryers. Most TVs were black and white. Have you ever seen "the Andy Griffith" show? It was just like that. It was a different world, one of home grown apple pies, county fairs, and 4-H… It was a very wholesome community, at least from my POV. Gary and I were born into this sweet little community, but this atmosphere worked a lot better for me than for him, I have to admit.
Gary was born in 1950. His father was a WWII Veteran, who was a survivor of the Bataan Death March. His dad was very 'different' after that, but in his own way he really loved Gary. He made a huge deal out of Gary, and referred to him, as "his little man." He gave him beer, and made him smoke, and taught him to cuss and talk dirty, when Gary was two and three years old. He liked to show off his son to the other guys in the community. He’d sit him up on a counter at the country store, so the guys could watch this two year old, throw back a whole beer, and smoke a cigar. Then Gary would repeat all the nasty off color stuff his dad had taught him to say. My Dad compared this little show to a trained bear act. He worried about it, but no one had the grapes to tell Gary’s Dad he was wrong. He was a war hero, and a good bit older than my father. When Gary was four, his father shot himself, in front of his wife and three children. Gary was seriously affected by all of this, but always considered himself the man of the house. Gary was taught to think of himself as a grown man, even as a toddler. Gary was always strong and overly masculine on the outside. He never showed weakness or let his emotions out. Maybe he came closest with me, because I was little, and loved him no matter what he said, but he held a lot in.
Gary did what he wanted after his father’s death. His mother had no control over him. He didn’t really respect her as an authority, or do anything she told him to. By the time he started first grade, he was a smoker and a heavy drinker. By the time he was 8, he had developed a habit of huffing Gasoline. Naturally he did not fit into the traditional, small minded little community grade school at all. When he went to school, the teachers didn’t even try to understand his real problems. They spanked him almost daily, so he laid out a lot, or rather went to school on the bus and then walked wherever he wanted to go. He didn't fit in. He dropped out when he was 16, more for social reasons, than anything else. He was very handsome, but he was a social outcast. No one wanted their kids to play with Gary, because of his foul mouth, and bad habits... no one except my dad I guess.
Dad hired Gary as a farm hand, before I was born, even though he was still a little kid. Gary was going to follow him around all day anyway, so he gave Gary’s mom money and let Gary help him. Dad often gave Gary’s mom money because she was a widow. Paying Gary made it not feel like charity… but Gary was always good help, even when he was very small. He was tough and strong for his age. Dad loved having him around, and thought of him as a son. Gary really attached himself to my father. But then my dad married my mom. Mom never liked Gary at all, though she tried to pretend at first. She resented his always being around when we had family time. She didn’t like him being invited to every summer cookout or water melon cutting. She hated these outdoorsy activities anyway, and Gary being there, hanging out with Dad beside the grill while she prepared the sides in the kitchen just irritated her no end. She used to try to get me to say I didn’t want Gary to be there. It wouldn’t work though. Gary and I were very close. I adored Gary ever since I can remember. He was like a big brother, except he wasn't genetically my brother at all, and he was nicer to me than any big brother has ever been to a little sister. He literally treated me like a princess. He’d do anything to make me happy, and keep me out of trouble with my mom if he could.
Gary and I were extremely close, and we had a psychic connection right from the start. I'd wonder where Gary was, and I could see as if out of his eyes, if only just a flash. I could also hear his thoughts in words. He'd bring his pony for me to ride on, when I was about three through six. Gary always made time to play with me, even when he wasn't physically around...
When I was two, I was in my crib, and a little blond haired boy appeared to me. He looked just like Gary, except he appeared to be only a year or two older than me. About the same age as when his father died. He was my imaginary friend from then on. I remember asking him over and over if he was Gary. He'd always answer, "Gary's big, and I am your size. How can I be Gary?" Then he would laugh the way tiny children do when they tell a joke. Little Gary was not the only thing I saw, or the only strange perception I had though. I hallucinated or had visions… depending on how you look at it, almost constantly. My visions were so vivid when I was small, that I could not tell any difference between reality and vision, except to anticipate likelihood that such things were possible. For example walking corpses were probably not real. By the time I was three I learned not to talk about my visions. I kept silent, because I thought it meant I was crazy. No one else I knew was like me, and so I kept quiet.
Gary never mentioned it… not the physical Gary anyway, so I will never know how much of that he was consciously aware of. I am sure if he was huffing, and drinking so much he probably hallucinated, and such, but we didn’t discuss it at all. I never told him what I saw, so I don’t suppose he would have told me either. In those days if you saw things that weren’t there, you just kept it to yourself. LOL
Gary was strangely loyal to me though. Always ready to listen. He had a little sister and brother of his own, but he never so much as mentioned his little sister to me. I guess he knew I’d be jealous. He never talked about his family to my parents either though, unless they asked. With my mother he constantly spun yarns about his interactions with his classmates, and how he was accepted and even popular, he often said his grades were good, and he had many friends. We all knew this wasn’t true, and my mother cruelly pointed that out as often as it came up. I hated her for that because she was too stupid to understand why he did that… and realize how much more pleasant that it would be if she’d just go along. Mom called it lying, but Gary considered it avoiding pity, and being manly. Mom never understood about being a man, or having any masculine pride at all. Gary was just pretending, and making it seem that he was happy and everything was fine. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but Gary could not acknowledge that out loud.
Gary didn’t like mother’s pity, but it was all she felt capable of giving him really. She didn’t like him being there at all but she did feel sorry for him. She thought of him as a child who was out of control, which I guess he was, but to Gary this was an insult, because in his mind and in his actions he was a grown man.
One time Dad got the idea he could let Gary just stay with us. Mom said if that’s what he wanted to do they’d have to formally adopt Gary. She wanted to supervise him, and make him stop drinking and smoking. She said she couldn’t do that if he could, always run back to his mom for beer and cigarettes. In other words she planned on making him miserable, and wanted him trapped permanently so she could. Mom was only pretending to want this though. Really she was undermining the plan by making decisions that sabotaged the chances of success, because she didn’t want Gary there. I was extremely thrilled and excited at first. Dad said they could fix Gary a room in the den, but she insisted that they build Gary a room under the carport. I could not quite imagine that would be comfortable. Dad said closing in the carport would be expensive, and I didn’t see the point. I suggested that he could sleep in my room. I suggested it over and over, but she didn’t think that was appropriate. I thought it would be perfect. I was afraid at night, but I wouldn’t be if Gary was there. I was sure that Gary would frighten away the monsters, or that together we could fight them off.
Then mom started telling me that if Gary were to move in, I couldn’t pester him all the time because he’d get tired of it. Then she said, Dad and Gary would be together all the time and that She and I would be pushed out of that relationship. She pretty much said, that Dad wouldn’t love me any more, and would just focus on Gary. She said she was planning to clamp down on Gary and make him behave, and that, I could not interfere on his behalf, no matter how much he complained. She said that she and Dad would spend all their time trying to keep Gary on the straight and narrow. It wasn’t going to be fun.
Overall she was trying to use me to undermine dad’s plans without her having to take a stand. I did eventually tell my Dad it sounded like a bad idea, because mom was going to be mean to Gary, and cause a lot of fussing. Dad still asked Gary’s mom about it, and she said no, of course. I think the adoption and the permanence of this arrangement was what she minded, and if we’d stuck with Dad’s original plan of just having Gary stay at the house for a while, it would have happened. Anyway mom got her way, through scheming. The fact was that Gary made her feel insecure for some reason, and she deliberately made him feel insecure in return. They did not like each other ever.
As nearly as I can explain it, Big Gary was the outside persona of Gary. Little Gary was the little child inside of someone who never let himself be a child. Little Gary complained that Gary kept him trapped, but he had learned how to get out, and go away from Gary to visit me. As nearly as I can figure that’s how our connection really worked. I was connected by way of Gary’s Lil. His inner child spent as much time with me as with himself. The outer Gary was hyper masculine, strong and tough. He tried very hard to deny any sort of misery within. Little Gary had been sad, but he was very cheerful around me. He liked being with me, and I think that is why he started to grow again, after so many years of being four years old inside. It’s kind of unusual really that he grew, but he grew as I did. He stayed just a year or so older than me as I grew up. He was always just a few inches taller, and just a little bit smarter. Little Gary was sometimes with me, and sometimes with Gary, and he seemed to run back and forth between us, communicating what was going on with the other one. I was consciously aware of it, but I didn’t understand it. It was just how I was born, and I had nothing to compare it to, or any way of knowing if it was unusual or not. I don’t know how much of any of it, Gary was consciously aware of. It was not the sort of thing either of us could talk about, even to each other.
One day my mom was complaining to me about Gary’s lying. She said that she could no longer tell if he was lying or not and that worried her. I asked her, “But why? Can’t you hear what he is thinking?” She looked at me very strangely, and I suddenly knew that she couldn’t. This was something else that was weird about me, and no one else could hear Gary think.
For all Gary’s bad reputation, he was always really sweet to me. He never used bad language in front of me, and he never lied to me. To me he was the guy who carried me across the field so I wouldn’t get dirt in my sandals, and the guy who led an unruly pony at least a mile once a month just so he could let me sit on it. He was the only person besides my father that I ever trusted implicitly, and he never let me down. He was the guy who made a point to kneel down, or lift me up so that I would never have to look up at him. He was the guy who held me on his lap, and promised to protect and defend me from all harm. He always took my side no matter what, and usually understood how I felt, without me having to tell him.
At home, I could see little Gary, but when I started school, he only talked to me in my head. He didn't want to come out there. Every day when I got home, physical Gary was waiting for the school bus. He dropped out right before I started, and he was very nervous about me going to school. As soon as I got off the bus, he would ask me, did you get a whipping today? I always said no, but I got really worried about why he asked. I tried to let him know I was uncomfortable with this constant questioning, in the way I usually did, by thinking it, but it did not work in this case. Finally I cried and asked him, “Do you think I am such a bad girl that I would be spanked at school?” He said no, but that he’d been whipped alot when he went. He said he probably deserved it, but he was sure I didn’t, so if ANYONE at that school ever raised a hand to me, he’d take care of it. My dad could come if he wanted, but he’d handle it either way. He said he’d stop asking only if I promised to tell him if anything like that ever happened, because he knew there was no way I deserved such a thing, and even if I did, he would not allow it.
One time, I was playing alone on the school play ground after school, and a teacher approached me. I had been playing on the monkey bars in a dress, and no doubt showed my butt. He talked about my panties and said he wanted me to go with him back into the school. The school was deserted, and everyone was getting ready to board the school bus. The teachers were all outside with the children. I had just wandered off from the crowd as usual, and now this teacher was trying to lure me back into the school. I didn't even realize what if anything was wrong with that. I mean I was in first grade. The strange thing is that I lost control of my voice, and channeled Gary... and not the little one either. This was big Gary. He said, "Why are you looking up my little girl’s dress? I thought you only liked little boys, you f**king pansy!” The voice coming out of me was loud and harsh. It hurt my throat badly. I said a lot of things I didn’t understand, and all the while there were thoughts in my head trying to figure out “how to kill this guy from within the little girl’s body.” Meanwhile my own mind was wondering why I just called this guy a pansy… I knew that was a flower… the rest of it made no sense at all to me. The teacher was stammering, and saying, “What did you say?” in the kind of voice adults use to get kids to back down, but Gary would not back down. The teacher was afraid, and insulted, He couldn’t understand why a little tiny girl was screaming this at him. Finally Gary said through me, “you better get the hell out of here before you get hurt!” By then a female teacher and several children had gathered, and suddenly I was left to explain. I didn’t have a clue what any of it was about… but the only question the female teacher asked, was, “Are you OK?” I said, “I think so.” She asked again, and I said yes. The incident was never mentioned again, but two years later that teacher was caught molesting little boys. Until then no one knew he was a pedophile, but apparently Gary knew.
One time when I was about seven, Gary was again waiting for me to get off the bus. As soon as I came home, he swept me up in his arms, carried me over to the farm truck and sat me up on the flat bed. He looked me straight in the eyes, and I knew he wanted to talk to me. We had a very nice conversation. I don’t remember exactly what it was about, but I sensed he was sad. He said something about being lonely. I asked him if he had a girl friend. He said no. I said, “I could be your girl friend!”
He looked at me a moment, and said, “Well you are a girl, and you are my friend, I guess that makes you the closest thing to a girlfriend I have.” I insisted that he could consider me his girlfriend if it helped any. He repeated what he had said before, and added that my dad and I were his closest friends in the world, but that I was just too little to be his girlfriend.
“By then I’ll be old”
“I don’t know… maybe 30?” He made a face. “That’s really old.”
I thought a minute… “not really… and it wouldn’t matter. I’d still want you.”
“I’d be older and you’d be smarter, and hopefully by then you’ll be smart enough not to want a guy like me.”
I replied without even thinking. “No I’ll always want you Gary! Why would I change my mind?”
“Because you will be older and smarter, and when you are, you will see what I mean. I’m nowhere near good enough for you. I never will be. It’s just a matter of time till you figure that out. Then you won’t want anything to do with old Gary.”
Suddenly Gary hopped up on the back of the truck and started messing with a rope tied to the side that we used to tie stuff in. I knew it wasn’t anything that needed to be done, but he was pretending to be busy because he didn’t want me to look at him anymore. He especially didn’t want me to see his face. This was unusual, because he always either got down on his knees to talk to me, or lifted me up to sit on something tall. He never made me look up at him like this. He’d even said many years before, that he never wanted me to look up to him. At the time I didn’t realize he could have meant that as anything but literal, and he definitely always practiced it literally as well, except for this one time, when he kept turning away from me, pretending to do something important with that little piece of rope.
The fall before I turned 8, my mother decided Gary was a bad influence on my cousin, and even my father. She threw a fit at my father, and after the only real fight I ever remember them having, Gary was fired, and my Dad got a job and quit farming. It was a miserable fight. I remember she started in on me, complaining about Gary before Dad got home. She said a lot of things that were not age appropriate, and while now I know it’s just what women say when they are jealous of their husband’s male friends, at the time I was just furious at her. She was being awfully unreasonable, but she thought she could win me to her side. I was very aware that Gary was with me, and listening to every word. Meanwhile she just went on and on, saying bad things about him, and I could feel his feelings being hurt, but she had no way of knowing… I felt his hurt, but I’m sure the anger I felt was all mine. There wasn’t room for his too. She kept asking me who I loved most, Gary or my favorite cousin. I could NOT answer that question. I loved them both, but Gary was much closer to me in ways my mom was not capable of understanding, and I did not want to try to explain that to her, but at the same time I wanted her to know that I loved Gary very much. It was basically like forcing a child to pick between her two brothers. They were both always very good to me. It was a very unfair question, and a stupid one considering Gary was right there, inside me, but she didn’t know that. Thinking back I am shocked at how my mother treated me and tried to manipulate me against my father and Gary all the time. She really had no right, nor did she have the right to shoo me out of the house when Dad got home, just because I didn’t agree with her. She claimed it was because they were going to have grown up talk, but she’d already had grown up talk with me, and I disagreed with her. She really just didn’t want to fight both of us at once. She was using Mitch too now, for some reason… pitting us against all against Gary, when no one had a problem with him except her. I charged back in one time and ranted at her for being unreasonable, but she just shooed me back out and then locked the door. I listened at the door some, and even beat on the door, but they shooed me away again and again.
After Gary was fired, I had some very strange perceptions about his whereabouts, and was very worried. I had seen a man in a tan uniform, shoving him and treating him badly. Why didn’t Gary just hit him back? I reasoned that this man in tan held some sort of authority. I thought the uniform might be an army sergeant’s. It looked a bit like what Sergeant Carter wore. I was afraid Gary had been drafted, and they would NOT have told me if he had. I built up in my mind that Gary was in the army. It was the only explanation I had for him being shoved around and beat up by someone in a tan uniform, when I knew Gary would not tolerate being pushed around like that under other circumstances. After my parents’ fight, no one mentioned Gary and I was afraid to. I finally got up nerve to ask mom how Gary was. I hadn’t seen him since mom’s little tirade. She had been talking about some of the other guys in the community who were in the army, and she was deliberately not mentioning what I wanted to know. She just glared at me, then put on a fake smile, and said, I guess he’s just fine honey. I shut up I worried needlessly for what seemed like years, until I saw him again.
I still didn’t know he hadn’t been in the army. Only a few years ago, after I told my dad what I had seen, did he explain that Gary was arrested around that time, on his way to the beach. He’d used his phone call to call dad asking for bail money. It was quite a lot and my Dad didn’t have it, and neither did Gary’s mom, so Gary spent a couple of weeks in a South Carolina jail. Maybe longer… my Dad didn’t know. I did know that if it were not for my mom’s feelings he’d have come up with the money, or at least gone down to see about him. Dad said he didn’t know what the charges were either, but since Gary was just driving through that area, it’s hard to imagine it was anything but a traffic violation of some type. It may have had to do with substance abuse, but I really don’t know. I think something really bad happened while he was in jail though. I know Gary was afraid, and I only thought about Vietnam, because that fit the uniform. I do know that most sheriff’s offices in the south used tan uniforms. I hadn’t really learned about police yet, and still believed the stuff parents tell kids about trusting policemen. In a few years I’d know better, but at the time, I didn’t know they acted that way.
Only after Dad explained did Gary admit to me he was arrested. He said it was really bad, and shot me more images of brutality, some of which I had seen before. I saw now that the insignia on the guy’s shirt wasn’t army stripes… but I hadn’t noticed that before. Gary did not want to talk about it. He said he was ashamed, so he let me think he’d been in the army. He didn’t mean to misinform me, only that I jumped to that conclusion, and he thought it was better for me to think that, than to know my hero was in jail. Me thinking he was in the army seemed better to him. Not to me though, I had been very worried. It kind of bothered me that Gary didn’t tell me the truth, even after I was an adult, but he apparently couldn’t.
Thank goodness we ran into him again, because I was very worried that Gary was in danger. We saw him out walking by the side of the road in the rain. I was excited, and said, there’s Gary! Let’s take him with us, but Dad would not even stop and talk to him, because mom was along. We were going out to dinner, and I begged them to invite Gary but they said NO! I was furious, and upset.
When I was 12 and 13, Gary worked for my uncle, who lives across the road from us. That meant I at least got to see Gary around. He was always working though. One time I was getting off the school bus, and had an OBE… not that I knew what that was at the time, but Gary was standing out in the field, and my spirit just floated across the field, zooming towards him. I saw him much closer, than I could have possibly seen him from where I was standing. He looked just perfect, at least for the times. He had his shirt off, and his body was perfectly bronze, and glistening with sweat. His blond curls, glistened in the sun.. I could see his face as if I were standing less than three feet from him. That moment is just frozen in time now.
I really wanted to talk to Gary and hang out with him, but I couldn’t really figure out how to approach him. I wanted to find out if I was old enough yet. I still remembered our conversation when I was six… but I had a feeling that for all his reputation, he’d be way too decent to go for being seduced by a 13 year old, so I’d just have to wait, but how much longer? Maybe when I was 16… 18… or 20 he’d think it was OK? I figured no good could come of asking him that now, but I could talk to him… but I couldn’t figure out how to interrupt his work. I was painfully shy, especially about important things, and this was important, so I put it off, but one day, Gary would be mine. I had my heart set on it.
One night, I suddenly thought of Gary, very strongly. I felt him trying to speak to me. My dreams were fitful that night, and I didn’t rest well. The next morning, on the way to school, I spoke his name two or three times out loud, but kind of under my breath. I couldn’t really help it. I sensed his energy powerfully. I sensed him close by. I hadn’t noticed any real communication with Gary in a couple of years, so I thought I had outgrown all that, but now I remembered and felt that communication again.
That morning after I got to school, I saw Gary walking up the front sidewalk towards the school office. My first thought was that something awful must have happened. I was very worried, because I could only imagine what sort of emergency would cause my parents to send HIM to come and get me from school. Yet it never occurred to me that he had any other reason for being at school other than me. I knew it was me he needed to see, but why? What awful thing had happened to my family that Gary was the only one to claim me. Anyway that was what I was thinking as I saw him. I ran towards him, without a thought that it might seem odd. I just took off towards him, and ran to him. Then the strangest thing happened. He had looked very real, and very solid even though the sun was bright. Then all of a sudden when I was within four feet of him, he just went transparent, and faded as he walked straight into my chest. I felt a warm sensation of his embrace, and then he disappeared completely into my heart, just as he used to when I was little. I finally asked the question I was thinking as I ran towards him. “Gary!!! What are you doing here! Is everything OK?”
“I’m OK. I’m with you.” I heard the words almost audibly, but not exactly. I turned around and returned to the breezeway, where I had been standing before I had gone running across the front lawn. Strangely no one seemed to be watching, and no one was laughing at me for my odd behavior. I asked again if everything was OK, and again he said, “I’m OK I am with you.” I noticed that he seemed unusually… happy, giddy, or excited about something. I didn’t really know what.
I was so distracted by my inner conversation. I hadn’t noticed that one of the more popular girls had walked over to speak to me. “Do you have a boyfriend,” she asked. Now I realize that she was just making conversation but at the time I felt really picked on. Hadn’t she asked that question before? The answer was always the same. ‘No.’ I felt very uncomfortable and alone. Gary must have picked up on that, because just as I started to say “no” something entirely different came out of my mouth. “Yes and his name is Gary ____” He said his last name! Oh my God! I really didn’t have a clue what was going on, but why? Then I found myself saying, “You have seen him! Remember the a few weeks ago, when the bus stopped in front of the house, and that blond guy was standing beside the tractor without a shirt?”
Suddenly I had her attention completely. “Yes, hell yes! He is hot girl! That’s yours? How far have you gone with him?” She seemed absolutely thrilled for me, but it wasn’t true. I was just terrified. Not only did I not have control of my own voice, I was saying something that could get Gary in real trouble. I was struggling the whole time to gain control of myself, but I could not, and the story was about to continue I could tell. I fought hard, but I couldn’t make it stop.
I was talking again. “He’s kissed me, behind the barn sometimes, but he’d never let it go any further. He says I am too young, and he would never ever do anything that might hurt me.”
“I wish my boyfriend was more like that. That is so sweet. He sounds like a really nice guy, and cute to. You are so lucky!”
Then finally I had control of my voice again. I could not deny what I had just said, but none of it was true, at least not physically in this world. I was just very afraid. All I could do was make her swear not to ever tell anyone. I explained that Gary could get into trouble, because he was 23 years old, and I was 13, and that while no one would ever understand, he hadn’t done anything wrong. I told her my dad would kill him if he knew. I wasn’t sure that was true, but I wasn’t sure it wasn’t either. I really didn’t want to find out, so I begged her not to tell. She agreed and said she understood. I wondered if she did or not since it was no secret that she was intimate with her own boyfriend who was 18, and she and I were the same age. I was really worried. Why had I done that? I felt horribly guilty despite the fact I’d been sort of possessed, or something. I really didn’t understand what just happened.
Gary said in my head, “Don’t worry, I used to lie a lot to,” and then he laughed. “YOU! I said, Why? That’s so dangerous!”
“It doesn’t matter. Not now. I want you to know I love you, and that Girl… well she needed to know it too. She also needs to realize that her boyfriend shouldn’t do that to her.”
I was awfully confused all day, and I started having little blackouts. I’d just stare at things and zone. I had no earthly idea what was wrong with me, but I was eager to get home. I felt very strange, and despite the fact I couldn’t help it, I was still feeling worried and guilty about the lie, and worried that something was wrong with me. I hoped I’d see Gary when I got off the bus. Maybe he’d be out in the field. Even though I was older now, and he didn’t actually come and talk to me, he did seem to make a point of being out in the field when I got home, at least occasionally. If he wasn’t out there with the tractor, he’d take the truck and park on the side of the road, and pretend to be doing something to the fence or the pasture… I’m sure he just wanted to see I was OK. I hoped today would be one of those days. I even started to plot on how I could make my lie come true. Apparently, maybe it was an idea somewhere in Gary’s subconscious at least, or it wouldn’t have come out of my mouth like that.
It wasn’t one of those days though, and Gary was not in the field, or pasture. That afternoon when I came in the door, mom said, “Gary died today,” in a voice like she was talking about one of her soaps, so I assumed that was what she meant. I didn’t keep up with her shows, but she did tell me about them sometimes. She repeated what she said, when I didn’t respond, so I said, “Gary who,” Still not even thinking the obvious. When she told me it was our Gary, I was shocked and totally devastated, but I was way too numb to react. She handed me the evening post, and there was this tiny one paragraph entry. I read it over and over, and it made no sense. Why? The newspaper said natural causes. He had died suddenly, and unexpectedly of natural causes. The obituary didn’t explain how such a thing could happen, and neither could my parents. Dad said he died of a brain hemorrhage, which was later determined to be due to lead poison from huffing gas when he was a kid. I wanted so much more from that obituary. It was so short and so cold. It didn’t explain anything. I felt that miserable feeling I always got when Gary was mentioned at home, so I went to my room.
When I got there, I saw Gary sitting on my bed. “What exactly do you think OK means Gary!” I demanded, in a harsh whisper? “How is this OK? You are dead. How can we fix this Gary? The answer is we can’t! We can’t fix this. WTF Gary? What are we going to do now?” I was so upset, and he tried to comfort me, he tried to put his arm around me, and I could feel it in a way, but it was so… well it lacked substance, but I could concentrate somehow and feel it more, by changing something in my mind, but I don’t know what exactly, except to say it’s a little like changing the channel on the TV. I could be less aware of the physical, in order to be more aware of him.
He repeated. “I am OK. I am with you! I feel fine. I feel free, really free for the first time ever in my miserable life. Don’t be sad, it isn’t such a big deal is it? I can be with you all the time now.”
“Won’t you have to cross over or go to the light or something?”
“I will try not to. I want to stay with you. It will be OK!”
I know some of it was just Gary trying to be brave, but also he did seem strangely happy for a dead person. He wasn’t creepy like people think of a ghost either. He was even sweeter than ever, and really trying his best to be positive about everything. I was much more upset than he seemed to be.
My new friend, the popular girl had read about his death in the paper, and she took my well being very seriously. She said that since I could not greave openly with my parents, that I needed the support of my friends at school. She said that she had promised not to tell anyone, but she wanted my permission to tell just a couple of my very closest friends. Whoever I trusted was fine, but I had to pick at least a few, because I would need a lot of help to get over this. She said that she would be around also if I needed her. So now I was a grieving widow at 13, who was literally being haunted.
I wanted to know how to take care of him better, and find out what he needed, now that he was a ghost. I tried to find information in the library, but the school and public library had very little information, and the only thing they all said, was that he had to go to the light. WE did not want that, and they offered no other advice. Gary was very afraid I’d send him to the light, even though I tried to explain I wasn’t going to do that… still he didn’t like for me to read those books.
As weeks passed though, I noticed several things. The zoned out feeling was getting quite pronounced, and I started achieving trance states very easily. I had never tried to do this before, but I did find some occult books that kind of explained what I was experiencing… though they said I needed meditation to do this completely. I didn’t seem to though. My eyes would just fix on something and I’d loose time. I never knew when coming out of this state, if I’d lost minutes or hours. This was becoming a problem during class especially because I hadn’t learned to control it at all yet. The other thing I noticed was that Gary was quite palpable at times. I could feel his hand on my shoulder, or his arm around me, and I wanted to try sex. Now he refers to it as that time I chased him around the bed. Since then he has told me that he felt very conflicted during that time, because big Gary and little Gary, who was not so little anymore, were both combined at death, but they were still settling in and settling their differences. One huge difference was the way they felt about me. Little Gary had always thought of me as his girlfriend. To big Gary, I was his best friend’s underage daughter, and also something precious that had to be protected, and treated like a little princess. The conflict was very hard on him. In many ways death had turned him inside out. Now, inside me, little Gary was more dominant, in his combined character, where as before external Gary was always the one to front.
Finally one day, it all came to a head. I sat Gary’s Ghostly form down next to me, and explained to him how I felt. “Gary, you are everything to me, and always have been. Now since you are with me, you are the only man I ever want, or need. I can feel you with me, and that’s enough, even if we never figure the sex thing out completely, that’s OK. I can feel your arms around me, and sense you here. I can talk to you, and that’s what matters most. I will never marry and we will always be together.”
“Oh God no Kim! You have to have a life… a normal life with a flesh and blood husband, who can support you and give you children. I can’t give you children. I can’t hold down a job. Who will take care of you, if you don’t get married? You deserve better than me, even alive, much less dead. You have to go on with your life, and get married when you are old enough. I am here to help you, not to destroy your life.”
“You aren’t destroying my life. You have made me very happy. I love the idea of being with you as a Ghost. It’s quite enough for me. I can take care of myself, and you. If we want children, we will adopt.”
“Right, I figure those adoption agency people are just waiting for a couple like us to take kids. I am a ghost, and you talk to yourself all the time. Get real Kim, no one would… and you need more than I can give you. You have to find a real husband.”
“And what will you do? Watch? I can’t do that. I can’t make love to another man, with you in the room. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and I just couldn’t make myself do that.”
“You have to, because I am not going to stand by and let you waste your life on me.”
The debate continued, for days, maybe weeks, but finally Gary said he was leaving me, so I’d do what I was supposed to. I was devastated. I became very interested in the occult. I tried daily séances alone in my room. I tried deep meditations… and my meditations went way too deep. One night, I got very afraid, because I was seeing things coming towards me, and I couldn’t move. Gary broke out of hiding long enough to chase them off. Then he wrapped his arms around me and I fell asleep in his arms, but the next morning he was gone. I tried and tried to make contact with him. Occasionally if I seemed desperate enough I’d get a little something, but it was rare. He mostly came when I needed him, but less and less and eventually I gave up. I decided he had crossed over and was gone.
It is hard to understand in hindsight why I believed he had left. I continued to practice… though my practice changed from amateurish Wiccan, to advanced esoteric Christianity. I was eventually trained as a deliverance minister. I worked with spirits all the time, but Gary managed to hide from me. Everyone else saw him though. My teacher saw him, but would not tell me straight out. She just said it was nothing bad, and that I wasn’t ready to know. It would be fine, and not to worry about it. My ex fiancé even told me that he’d been visited by my ghostly older brother, who warned him to treat me right or else. Still I didn’t know… even when they tried to tell me.
I channeled Gary on a regular basis but only called him my reflexes, automatic responses, or sometimes my uncontrollable temper. I once snatched up my ex fiancé by the shirt collar while I was also driving down the road. I literally picked him up with one hand, crammed his head against the headliner of the car, and shook him till I left bruises on his chest, all without taking my other hand off the steering wheel, or my eye off the road, but I never once thought that was strange. I mean I had reasons, but still… Is that even physically possible? Anyway all those close to me, except my parents, knew that I was multiple and that I had a man with me. Those who believed in spirits saw a man with me all the time. They described him to me, but I was still mystified. I think Gary was still hiding from me on purpose, because of the fact he wanted to marry me off first.
The funny thing was that Gary hadn’t really gone anywhere, and everyone knew except me. By then I had made friends who were spiritual, and it was common knowledge among all of them, that I had a male spirit with me. They threw out hints all the time, and a few of them did just flat out tell me, but by then, I didn’t know what they were talking about. Gary had fully convinced me he was gone. Every time I started to remember he would change the subject in my mind, and I’d loose that thought.
My teacher hinted, but I never got what she meant, mostly because Gary didn’t want me to know yet. She was always talking about my strong masculine side, and she said it was not a bad thing at all. She looked right at Gary when she said it too. I know because she looked over my left shoulder, and looked straight at him. I knew she was looking at an entity but when I turned around I didn’t see anything. Gary was hiding. Meanwhile I channeled him, he took me over frequently, but I didn’t realize it was him. People saw him, and some of them did tell me, but I really didn’t understand that it was Gary. I thought he’d gone, but he still spoke through me, spoke in my head, he appeared to my friends, scared my boyfriends, if he didn’t like them, but only rarely did he let me feel his energy. He wanted me to marry, and finally I did.
I had two children, and after the second one I had a huge blackout. Gary tells me that I was unconscious on all levels. I was passed out on the floor of our castle, in our world, and in this one Gary ran my body for two years. I came around occasionally, and Gary would always push me to the front, trying to get me to take hold of my life. Finally a couple of years after that he decided to explain it to me. He started feeding me a novel. At first he gave me words and pictures to explain the story. Every morning I’d get a little more to write down, but increasingly I was just blacking out at the keyboard, and he was typing large sections of the novel. I’d get the story from one of his huge dramatic scenes to the next, but overall he was writing the novel.
It was a very romantic story, that echoed our past lives, and even this one, but still I didn’t get it. I cannot believe how completely he had made me forget these things, or at least not think of them all in the right way to realize what had been going on for most of my life. This novel came at a time when my marriage was not going well, and my husband was not even coming close to meeting my emotional or romantic needs. I had been miserable to an unearthly degree, ever since I got pregnant with my second child, who was now about five years old. Gary had decided that he had to tell me, but he also had to be careful how he told me, because he didn’t want me to get upset. He had come to think of me as fragile, after my blackouts. Finally he determined it was safe to tell me.
When the novel was finished, I asked him, who wrote this? He typed “Gary” I was so excited that he was still with me. I was thrilled. I’d already decided I must be multiple, or haunted or possessed or something but of all the possibilities I had considered, the fact Gary was still with me, was the most wonderful news I could imagine.
Gradually over the next few months the whole story came together in my mind. He carefully explained all the odd things that had happened to me that I didn’t understand before. He explained our life, and our past lives, and our spiritual life together. He showed me much of it, and I knew that I had seen all this before many times, I just hadn’t understood it. We have a rich inner life, and always have. I just haven’t always consciously understood it.