The Andre Chronicles, by Psychic Su Walker

Chapter 6: Light Fog and the Angelic Connection

Over and over in my head for the next several days I replayed the almost literal ghost busting that had occurred at Elizabeth’s house. Andre’s powerful method of cleaning out the unwelcome spirits there played across my mind and psychic senses, bouncing against a locked door. Try as I might, I couldn’t quite totally understand the full extent of what had happened.

For some reason, the word vanquished stuck in my head and really bothered me. Vanquished!

By all definitions, he had vanquished the entity we’d dubbed Fat Bastard. He didn’t ask him to leave. He didn’t send him to the light. He vanquished the bugger, annihilated him, and scattered to who knew where hundreds of millions of tiny little psychic soul pieces. Andre told me out loud that he “destroyed” the entity. Could he really do that?!

Goddess, going into this whole thing he seemed so damned experienced and confidant. This was obviously not the first time he had tangled with dark and evil entities, but what was real and was the rest of this story? I shivered. Destroyed…sent to a place where he won’t be coming back from. It felt dark and awful, even to do that to a ghost of an abusive alcoholic that had done so much emotional and spiritual damage over a living lifetime. Was it spiritually or morally right for him to do that? I knew, or rather believed, that no one can really destroy a soul, but I wanted to know more about exactly what had happened to Fat Bastard; not only what, but how and why.

Andre said he destroyed him…but what did he mean exactly? Was he trying to tell me that he sent him straight to Hell? (Which of course, caused me to ask…did I even believe in Hell.) If that’s what happened, just what sort of connections did this supposed Light Bearer really have with Heaven or with Hell? Did these places exist or did Fat Bastard just dissolve into….nothing? My mind was reeling with questions about his actions as well as questions about my own beliefs. He had some kind of powerful means of working, and some unspoken connection with raw potent power and what seemed to be even more powerful places. Light Bearer…I had to consider what the real implications were in this title, where he had acquired it, and by whom. What modern or ancient skills did this man really possess?

That thought alone, with or without other implications, scared me to death.

I shuddered, feeling both appreciation and apprehension his powerful abilities. Did he know how to do this…because…? I couldn’t finish the sentence; I went just sort of blank. Light bearer…did he think of himself as akin to Lucifer? A fallen one or something? He brought up that name, but…. This was not a realm I had any experience in. A phrase he had used just a few weeks previously came floating back through my mind.

“I’m too dark for people to handle….”

What the hell was going on? What had I gotten myself involved with? Should I back away now? Am I really experiencing all this? I wished I had a way to double-check my own perceptions. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t off base. I wanted to somehow make sure Andre was safe to be around. What if he wasn’t…what if my take was all wrong and he was this…. No! I thought and took a deep breath. Though I had dozens of questions and no answers, I knew what I sensed that first day. Deep in my heart I was positive that Andre was someone who had such intense connections and potential that it almost hurt to psychically look at it. My fear of his vanquishing the negative entity at Elizabeth’s home directly juxtaposed with my sense of his powerful abilities that were connected with the light. I couldn’t fit the two halves together; a closed door separated the yin and yang sides of the circle. There was definitely a missing piece of information. Some of this seemed to be within the realm of the angelic, but yet with a darker edge to it. Oh Goddess!

Needing another perspective, I called my best friend Ellen. She had met Andre when I was camping in early July and was a fairly decent read of people. He had shown Ellen the same sort of energy journeywork he had shared with me by touching her forehead. Her reaction had been similar to my own. When I explained the entire episode regarding the spiritual house cleaning and Fat Bastard over the phone, Ellen paused for more than a few seconds. Finally, she spoke. “Careful,” she cautioned me. “You don’t know him well enough to know what he could or would do. You’re right about the dark energy though, I picked up on that too.” “He took you on that same psychic mind-thought journey into a thunderstorm and stuff like he did me when you met him on the Fourth, right?” “Yeah,” she replied. “That was cool. It was some powerful shit, no question about that. But there was something else, something I thought about on the way home that night.” “What do you mean?” I queried. “I don’t know,” she was groping for words. “It left me with a kind of dark psychic after taste. There wasn’t the love behind it that I normally expect from someone who can project energy like that, you know.”

I had to pause and think. I recalled Andre healing my elbow and the tingle of the raw energy came back to me again. It was definitely pure raw potent power, but it didn’t exactly carry the loving, caring, giving sort of energy that other healers I knew used…at least not the kind of love that leaves you with gentle, effervescent warm fuzzies.

“I didn’t quite get the same dark after taste you describe, but I understand what you mean when you say you didn’t exactly sense the typical calm, gentle warming sort of love behind it. It was more like pure power…not positive or negative, not evil or loving…just this sort of super potent energy force.” “Exactly,” she said and paused. “It’s different. I’d be careful.” Her voice trailed off.

Different, exactly the way Andre described himself.

I shook my head over the phone at her choice of words and plunged on. “He wouldn’t hurt me,” I asserted. “I know he wouldn’t. Somehow I don’t think he could. It’s not in his nature to hurt…” I groped for the right way to say this. “People,” I finally figured out, “it’s not in his nature to hurt people.” That was it. People were not what he battled against. People were what he protected. “He doesn’t pass your back alley test, does he?” she asked. Not many individuals pass that test. They are the folks I connect with that I literally feel I can trust my life with. Ellen was on that list, and only a handful of others.

My back alley test goes like this. If I were in a dark, back alley, and a half a dozen thugs were approaching with knives and guns or intent to do me harm, whom could I count on to step up and help me without even being asked? Who cared for me enough that they, without question, would instantly work side by side with me, or take blows for me? Who do I trust that completely? Ellen had been my dearest friend for nearly fifteen years, and it was safe to say we passed each other’s back alley tests. Andre had just made the list, and I wasn’t even sure how or why…I just knew that he had. It was a totally intuitive, instinctive knowing. He was a warrior that indeed knew the dark side of things, and knew how do deal with it in a way that scared me more than a little. However, deep in my core I knew that he would, without question, step up to the plate to protect me with his life if the situation warranted. Dark warrior, mystic and protector. That was him to a tee. I shook my head at the thought, trying to understand why I still felt both a little scared as well as protected at the same time. Maybe it was Andre who said it best, “Power scares people.” “Actually, yeah, he does pass my back alley test,” I told her simply. “What I know about him thus far isn’t much, granted. But, honestly, yes, he passes.” I felt Ellen’s concerned pause. “Okay then, but go slow and keep me posted. I don’t want you to get hurt. And don’t rescue him, I know you.” I nodded again, I had a history of picking up people who needed help and, as Ellen put it, “rescuing strays.” It took me nine months to realize that I had been trying to rescue my previous boyfriend before I cut the ties. I was determined not to do it again, ever. “Deal,” I said. “No rescuing. Somehow I don’t think that’ll be a problem here.”

We said our goodbyes and I grabbed my bag and keys. Andre wanted me to come over to his house. He had again indicated on the phone that he wanted to talk to me about something. As before, the message had been short and cryptic. I, who was used to digging for information until I was satisfied that I knew all there was to know. I didn’t exactly like this secretive sort of communication style. I did understand that the caution and careful choice of words was a strong part of who Andre was. In time, I thought. In time I’ll know more. Patience.

I had no idea what I was driving into on that late July night, but was about to get more than I ever bargained for.

Andre opened the door and ushered me into his home for the first time, indicating a spot for me to sit on the loveseat. Curiously, he remained standing. There was no small talk, and as per usual, he got directly to the point.

“I scared you the other day,” he stated. “I didn’t mean to.” The abrupt shift of gears caught me off guard. “You mean at Elizabeth’s house?” “Yes.” I thought back to the apprehension Elizabeth and I had felt on the porch after he had dealt with Fat Bastard and the other things in the house. “I don’t know if I would call it scared…” I began. “No,” he stopped me. “I know when I scare people. You both were scared,” he reiterated. “I’ve watched the reaction others have had to me all my life. I’ve seen small children, dogs and cats become frightened and totally shy away from me. They’re naturally scared without knowing why. People and animals perceive power they don’t fully understand as something to be wary of,” he said. “That’s why I’ve learned to naturally shield, to not put others off, or in any way frighten them.”

I sat back heavily into the loveseat, and scanned him psychically, conscious of Ellen’s advice to be wary and pay attention. My senses told me there was no danger, but still, a yellow light sort of cautionary sense lingered. I could tell Andre was about to disclose something that he himself was not sure I would take well. It didn’t feel as if he was afraid to say it…just that he was concerned what sort of reaction I would have.

“You threw me for a loop,” I said carefully. “I don’t exactly do my ghost busting the same way you do. The stuff you did with Fat Bastard, well….” I groped for the right words, “that gave me pause.” “I’m too dark for most people to handle.” Andre repeated the words I had heard him speak over the Fourth of July weekend. He was standing in front of me near the fireplace, and I watched his hands unconsciously come up, and press together. Gears were turning in his head again.

Tell, not tell. Tell, not tell.

His gaze was intense. Those deep, dark eyes bored into my soul again. The silence built for a moment, and I felt him reach a decision. Finally he spoke.

“I’m going to show you something,” he said simply. “I need you to stay right where you are.” What the? I had no idea what he was talking about or what was about to come. I sat back against the cushions, suddenly wondering whether I should throw up a psychic shield or sprint for the door. He passes your back alley test, I reminded myself. You wanted to know more, here’s your chance. Do you trust him or not? I took a deep breath, didn’t bolt and didn’t raise my shields either. Wary now, I watched and waited. Psychically I was on full alert.

Whatever this was, it was going to be big.

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