When I saw this new feature in RAG Fiction’s “Tales From the Campfire,” I knew I finally have the opportunity to tell many people the following story. It’s a true story and to this day, I’m not certain of the purpose of the events, although I am telling the readers about them exactly as they happened. They happened to me and my daughter.
        Please read and enjoy our experience with a special lady.

        
        
        “Then you’ll be over there in the books and magazine section?” I asked.
        “Yes, Dad,” my daughter replied as she back away from me moving slowly in the direction of the book section.
        “I’m going to buy some vitamins. I need E and C and then I’ll be ready to leave. Is that OK with you?” I asked.
        “Sure,” she said, winked, turned and walked down the wide aisle.
        Because I was in a hurry, I turned and immediately walked into the large pharmacy room, smelled the mild aroma of rubbing alcohol and mint as I shuffled over to the vitamin shelves. “Vitamins, vitamins,” I said to myself in a low tone as I ran my fingers up and down the displays. “All prices and all sizes.”
        Suddenly, there was activity to my left. A person, I thought, trying to get my attention. I ignored the action and continued to price the vitamins. I don’t know why I tried to ignore this minor flurry. What I guess was bothering me was something or someone interfered with my purchases and I was in a hurry. Pay no attention, the thought said, as it flashed through my mind. And I complied.
        I took down a vitamin E bottle, rotated it and juggled it in my hand while I moved toward the vitamin C shelves. Suddenly the activity to get my attention was around me again but this time the flurry came from my right. As I reached up to examine a bottle of C the activity stopped and I felt relieved. I don't why, but I never looked to see the other person. To this day, I have not been able to understand why I was in a hostile and ignore all frame of mind. I’m usually gregarious and I love people.
        I turned to look around the room. I saw nothing unusual. People browsing. The room became quiet, more quiet than usual, as I walked toward the checkout register. A woman worked the register and three people stood in line ahead of me. As I looked to my right, I saw her and I couldn’t take my eyes off a woman in a wheelchair. I smiled at her noting her disheveled appearance, a loosely wrapped head turban, thin white, pleasant face, splotched in a fetching manner with rouge, a body unable to support itself and supported by the mercy of the wheelchair. She wore a pale blue jogging suit and from the appearance of her twisted legs she never jogged.
        I was struck by the color of her eyes. Even though she sat silently in the chair about twenty feet from me, her eyes were the only noticeably attractive feature of her body, although her face was lovely.
        The checkout line moved forward by one person. The lady in the wheelchair smiled. In my head I heard, I need your help.
        I looked at her. I knew where the words came from. They came from her. The lady in the wheelchair. Her words were crisp and clear, so clear and to the point, I was not surprised. It seemed natural. Silent communication hadn’t happened to me since I was a child, but that’s another strange story, an event in my life I can’t explain. I looked directly at her. I actually looked at the lady’s beautiful and very pale, purple eyes. There was no doubt in my mind she had spoken to me.
        I sincerely need your help, she said.
        Wouldn’t it be fun if everyone spoke this way? I said and smiled at her.
        Most people know how to do this. You know how to speak without sound, don’t you? Her voice, inside my head, was loud and distinct. I smiled at her remark.
        Why don’t the others speak this way then? I looked at her wheelchair.
        Good question. I’ve no answer. I have other things on my mind, right now.
        How can I help? I asked. I’ll pay for these vitamins then we can talk. The line moved forward again.
        I’ll be outside the doorway, waiting for you.
        Fine, I said and looked at the cashier.
        I knew she spoke to me without vocalizing. I also knew I spoke to her without using my voice. At the time the conversation seemed quite natural. While waiting to pay for the vitamins and because I’m a graduate mechanical engineer, I wondered how the conversation took place. But, I never questioned the fact of the conversation. The lady was too far away for her to vocalize. She would have had to shout, disturbing everyone in the room. No. She talked to me in my head and apparently I returned thoughtes to her showing the same capability. Ah, the reason for the flurry when I first walked into the room. Somehow she knew I would hear her. Hm.
        I paid for the vitamins and accepted the package. I hurried toward the door and walked out into the wide aisle. She sat in her wheelchair and looked up at me as I approached her.
        “Do you know who I am?” she asked. She used her voice.
        “No,” I said, using my voice.
        “I’m well-known in these parts. I’m psychic and sometimes I wish I didn’t hear as much as I do, but nevertheless.... ” She looked down the wide aisle, narrowing her eyes to see distance. I looked in the same direction. I saw my daughter holding a magazine. “You’re not alone. Someone is here in the store with you,” she said.
        She didn’t ask the question, she told me the fact that I was not alone. I couldn’t tell whether she saw my daughter Renay or not but she continued to stare and I guessed even if she couldn’t see that far she sensed the presence of my daughter. “Oh yes,” she said. “There she is. She’s yours isn’t she?”
        “Yes,” I said.
        She turned her wheelchair toward me. “I need your help because I’ll be passing over soon and it will be very hard on my husband and son, who depend quite a bit on me even though I’ve been given these wretched, I guess I should say these well, blessed legs, we choose our lives don’t we? From another point of view....”
        She continued speaking rapdily. I listened and noticed Renay walked slowly toward us. Renay approached and didn’t take her eyes off of the lady. She smiled at the lady as she got closer to us.
        “...so I’ll need your help....” She glanced up at Renay and reached out her hand to her. They shook hands. “She’s lovely,” she said to me. “You are indeed lovely,” she said to Renay.
        “Thank you,” Renay said. “I don’t think I have ever seen such exciting and gorgeous eyes as yours,” she said.
        “Thank you, dear,” the lady said. “They’ve served me well, but I need your help too,” she said.
        “Of course,” Renay said. She knew nothing of the kind of help the woman needed. Neither did I actually.
        “I’ll be leaving quite soon, crossing over, you understand....”
        “Yes,” Renay said. We both nodded indicating we understood the term.
        “It will be traumatic for my husband and son because even though I have shown them some of the gifts, the abilities I’ve been blessed with, either they don’t understand or they cannot understand. In any case, they depend upon me too heavily and I won’t be here for them....”
        “What is it you want us to do?” Renay asked.
        “I want you to send love and energy to them when the time comes.”
        “The time of your passing, your crossing over?” I asked.
        “Yes.”
        “Of course, we will,” Renay said. I nodded agreement.
        “You’ll know when the time comes. At least that’s what I’ve been told and I believe.”
        “Yes,” Renay said.
        “I bid you farewell and God bless you,” she said. “Someday we’ll....”
        She rolled here wheelchair away from us and maneuvered out of sight into the crowd.
        “Such beautiful eyes,” Renay said. “Dad, did you feel that she was talking to us in her heart, also?”
        “Yes. I’m certain she did just that,” I said.
        We were mostly contemplative on the way home. My wife had prepared dinner and we were all ready to eat. Renay casually told my wife about the incident. Her manner of taking the event as normal and casual impressed me. Indeed, there didn’t seem to be any unusual about meeting this charming person, who had a beautiful face and purple eyes like no other and a body that no person would choose. I often wondered if reincarnation were true, what she had decided to work off, so to speak.
        Time passed and I had laid aside the thought of this different woman. For no reason either my wife or I know of, we didn’t speak of the event again until one night. I was working on a report, late one night, when my wife suggested it was bedtime. I closed my books, stretched and yawned as sadness came over me. I stood by my desk and stretched more and felt as though I wanted to cry. I didn’t make a connection between the lady and my sadness.
        I walked to the bathroom, undressed and grabbed a quick shower. The water seemed soothing somehow and I stared at it as it streaked past my face down my chest and body. I smelled a perfume or cologne that I hadn’t smelled since I had been in the store. Suddenly, a faint thought of the lady came to mind.
        I toweled down, put on my pajamas and joined my wife in bed. We kissed and she turned off the room lights. I lay awake in the darkness as the sadness became stronger and prayed for the lady and her family. Tears rolled down the sides of my face. I tried not to let my wife know I cried.
        The telephone rang. I reached over without moving out of bed and picked up the receiver. “She’s crossing over,” Renay said. She sobbed and I began to cry. I couldn’t speak too well. I said, “Yes, darling, I know it too.”
        “Remember, Daddy,” she said. “We must send her and her family love and energy.”
        “Yes, honey,” I said. “I was praying when you called.”
        “Isn’t it sad Daddy?” Renay added and hung up.
        I didn’t know whether her passing over was sad for anyone but my daughter and me and the lady’s family and friends. I never understood why she chose us to help her, as she said. I never saw anything in the newspaper about the lady and I didn’t know if she had asked other people to help her.
        I do know that both my daughter and I, without communicating beforehand, knew when the crossing over event happened and we shall never forget that she asked us to help her.
        From time to time I still think about the lady, the psychic with purple eyes. I have the comforting feeling that she’s in a place where she wants to be.