Rosalinda and the Psychic

The revelation of a kiss

There was a faint but persistent knocking on the thick wooden door.

The Psychic was sitting in a large comfortable chair at a big wooden table. He just sat there, not answering the door. There were several large windows to the right of the desk that allowed bright shafts of morning sunlight to streak across the room. There was the sound of many birds chirping coming from outside those windows. It was difficult to enjoy the birdsong, though, due to the insistent knocking.

Suddenly a young man in his twenties entered the room from behind The Psychic at his desk. He walked slowly and regally to the door. He opened it to see a beautiful woman with her hand raised as though ready to continue knocking. He motioned for her to enter the room. Without saying anything, the young man closed the door behind the woman and then left the room the same way he had entered. The young woman approached the table where The Psychic sat with quill in hand.

As The Psychic stood up, the woman saw that he was a man in his late forties or early fifties, of average height and build. He had a full salt and pepper beard and he had sparkling green eyes. A dark gray beret sat atop the unruly mop of salt and pepper hair atop his head.

The woman spoke, “Greetings, I am Rosalinda.”

“Yes, I know who you are,” said the man in a deep rich voice. “It has only been five days since I last looked at your face ever so briefly when I went to see the prince. Somehow, I don’t think I could forget it in five thousand years.”

The woman blushed and looked away, but only for an instant. She returned her gaze towards him and her eyes had even more determination in them. She smiled then was about to say something when the man motioned for her to sit. She nodded and sat down. The Psychic then sat down, too.

She started again, “I wish to thank you again on behalf of the prince — my husband. Your psychic advice has utterly changed him.”

Rattling a bag of coins upon the table, the man replied, “And he has already thanked me.”

“Yes, well, I wish to personally thank you. And….”

“Yes, Rosalinda?”

“And I wish to know more about you and your abilities.”

“I am a traveling psychic.”

“But I hear that you are much more than that. Yes, the stories say that you have been able to predict the future for many of Europe’s leaders. They say you are the private psychic to the king of France as well as to all his enemies. And now you are here in our country helping our leaders. I was very impressed with what you told the prince, and I do not know how you could have known those things. I believe your powers are legitimate, but it is not of these powers that I seek your aid.”

As the woman looked out the windows, The Psychic looked over the woman. He had a deep sense of recognition that he could not understand. He got an impression that they had been together before in another life…. and that she had bore him children.

He sensed that they had been together in other lives as well, although he could not tell if they were past or future lives. In this life, The Psychic had not been with a woman in many years and he was now feeling things he had not felt in a long time. It seemed this woman had great power over him.

The woman looked back towards The Psychic, “Much has been said about what you have done for the aristocracy — and it is said that you have gotten rich from it.”

The Psychic smiled.

“But there are many rumors about what you do to help the poor.”

The Psychic’s smile broadened.

“As you know, Europe is being devastated by a mighty plague. There are stories of a man who travels from town to town healing poor plague victims. He lays his hands upon the sick and they have some sort of epiphany. Within a day’s time, they are completely healed. Of course, by this time, the mysterious man is long gone. No one seems to know his identity. Many say that he is a well-dressed man of wealth who never gives his name. He is said to have a man-servant who tends to all his necessities. He never stays in one place for long.”

Just then the young man who had answered the door re-entered the room carrying a tray of drinks. He handed the woman a glass of lemon water and then he handed The Psychic a glass. Without a word said, the young man left the room.

The Psychic and the woman stared at each other for a long moment, and then The Psychic could hold it in no more, and let loose with unrestrained laughter. In another moment, the woman was laughing, too.

After they were done laughing, an awkward moment of silence ensued. The woman then diverted her attention to the scene outside the window. There were many birds. The Psychic continued staring at her, though.

Finally, he said, “So you are here to see me about help for your mother?”

Rosalinda quickly turned her head back and abruptly stood up. She covered her opened mouth with both her hands. She was shocked. “How did you know that?”

“So you are, indeed, here to ask me to help your mother?”

“Yes, but I have not told another soul!”

To show respect, The Psychic stood, “Have you not? When you pray, do you think no soul is listening?”

With this, Rosalinda put her hands back over her mouth. She now looked a little frightened.

“Please sit down. I would be honored to help your mother in any way that I can.” He smiled.

Slowly, Rosalinda was reassured, and even more slowly, she sat back down in the chair. Not until she was seated did her hands come down from her mouth. “Forgive me, I am stunned. So you are that man.”

“Yes,” The Psychic smiled, “But I admit that to you only in the strictest of confidences.”

“I will not tell a soul — not even in prayer.”

The Psychic laughed. “So what is your Mother’s problem?”

“She is sick. It is not the plague, though. It is a stomach disease. It is eating her up. Do you think you can help?”

“I know I can help. Whether she gets better is her decision. She will only heal if she truly wants to. Is she happy?”

Rosalinda thought a moment, “Well, yes. She was a very happy person until she got sick. We had so many plans, and she was taking great pleasure in her young grandson. She was planning to accompany the prince and me on our trip to Spain next year.”

“Well, I will do what I can.”

“May I ask where you are from?”

“Yes, you may ask Rosalinda, but I can only tell you that I am from the last place where I was. For the last couple dozens of years I have never stayed in one place more than a week or so. Where I am from has never been as important to me as where I am going.”

“So where are you going?”

“I am going to every place where beautiful roses bloom.” He smiled.

Rosalinda did not blush at his subtle reference to her name. She was still too much in awe, though she was warming up to him. “So you just wander the world healing people and giving psychic advice to the rich?”

“No, that is just what I do to pay the rent.”

Rosalinda looked puzzled, “I can see that you make money from the rich with your psychic abilities, but why do you heal the poor?”

“That is how I pay my spiritual rent.”

“Your spiritual rent?”

“Yes.”

“So what do you do when you are not paying rent?”

The Psychic put his hand on a big pile of papers on the table. “I devote the rest of my energies to my work. I am compiling a book for mankind that will help us through the dark and gloomy future we have in store. I take copious notes on all my observations as well as all the information I get from my healings.”

“How do you get information from your healings?”

“When I lay my hands upon a person to heal them I unlock their inner vision. When this happens, their entire life is revealed to me, and not just their current life, but past and future lives. Once their inner vision has been unlocked I can see through my hands anything at all about them. And for a few moments, so can they. In fact, this is the real healing mechanism. You see, the person suddenly becomes aware of their other lives. They suddenly see that they are much more than their dis-easements. They can see a story-line that they are following through the course of their lives, and this enables them to see where in this story-line they currently are, and to see with great clarity how their decision will affect them through eternity. And by decision, I mean of course their decision to either get well or die. That is all it really comes down to, is making a conscious choice. You can call dis-ease a failure to make a choice. That may sound like a harsh judgment in light of what we see around us, but in light of our entire story-lines through our many lives it looks like a simple choice.”

Rosalinda looked puzzled. The Psychic stood up from his chair and walked over to the window. As he watched the treetops sway in the breeze and listened to the soothing birdsong, The Psychic puzzled over his own behavior. He was almost never this open with anyone. He wondered why he felt so compelled to talk to this particular woman. He wanted to tell her everything about his life. This certainly went against his nature.

Rosalinda got up from her chair and walked over to the windows, stopping at The Psychic’s side. As he turned to her, she asked, “You are not married, are you?”

The Psychic was stunned by her question. He stared into her eyes for a long time. He had not even thought about marriage in such a long time. Why did it sound differently when she said it? The Psychic suddenly imagined what it would be like being married to Rosalinda. His inexplicable connections to her made it somehow easy to imagine this. He felt as though in some other life he had been a sculptor and that he had sculpted her likeness.

Abruptly, The Psychic said softly, “I am married to my work.” With this, he turned and walked back to the table. He shuffled some papers on the table then looked back at Rosalinda, “Because of my powers, I abstain.”

“You mean your powers will diminish if you have relations?”

“No.” He looked down at his desk.

Rosalinda’s face suddenly lit up, “Is it because when you do have relations with someone, it is like healing them and you see all their past and future lives?”

The Psychic looked up, a smile on the verge of breaking out over his face. “Yes. Yes. That is why.”

They stared at each other for a long moment then Rosalinda started walking towards The Psychic. Suddenly they were in each other’s arms kissing. As kisses went, this one was nothing short of cosmic. It was a once-in-a-lifetime kiss. For The Psychic, it was his first kiss in twenty-some years. For Rosalinda, it was the only time she ever kissed any man other than her husband. The kiss was so spontaneous as to catch them both off guard, sending them flying through a crack in time and space. With that kiss all their many lives together became momentarily connected. The kiss was orgasmic in nature, immediately bonding them for all time.

They stopped kissing and Rosalinda backed away, looking puzzled, shocked, bewildered, and a little frightened. They stared at each other for a long while, and then Rosalinda spoke softly, “Did you see my future?”

The Psychic smiled, “Yes, I saw a little. And it is very, very good. You will bring joy to many. Oh, and you and the prince will have two more children.”

Her face remained frozen for a moment and then it lit up with excitement. “Will I be happy?”

“Happiness should have no trouble finding you.”

Her excitement abruptly subsided, “Oh, please forgive me for throwing myself at you. I do not know what overcame me. Can we please forget this happened?”

“I do not think that I could forget this in a million years, but I shall never speak of it. You need not worry.”

“Thank you. I assure you that I do not normally behave like that. I…”

“Please, there is no need to apologize. Let us think instead about your mother.”

“Oh yes! But of course. Here is her address.” Rosalinda handed him a note, “I must get back to my duties, but if you would visit her at your convenience, I will be forever grateful, and I will see that you get paid. I can report back to you on my mother’s progress.”

“I do not accept money for healing. And there will not be time for your report, for I am leaving in the morning. I will visit your mother this afternoon. She should be well soon and will be joining you on your trip to Spain, where I might add that you will be conceiving your next child — a boy.”

“You are leaving?”

“Yes, I meant it when I said that I was a traveling psychic.”

Rosalinda looked sad, “Will I see you again?”

“I am sure you will.”

Rosalinda smiled. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” She turned towards the door.

Walking her towards the door, The Psychic opened the door then turned toward her. “Please remember to never let fear enter your heart. Know that you are loved and looked after. Your heart is a place for joy, not fear.” And that is all he said. They stared into each other’s eyes for a short eternity, and then Rosalinda left.

They never saw each other again in that life.

The Psychic was standing next to a bed with a sick woman in it. She was asleep. The woman was Rosalinda’s mother. At the foot of the bed sat the young man who had served lemon water earlier. He had a quill and some paper on which he was writing down what The Psychic was saying.

The Psychic was holding his hands over the woman’s stomach, “I see her in that time right after the big war. It is when everyone is afraid of the big bomb. She is being driven in one of those horseless carriages with four wheels. It is her husband who is driving her and they are in panic. They seem to be headed to a place where babies are born for it seems she is about to give birth. But they cannot make their way to this place because the roads are flooded. A bridge has been washed out, so the husband is driving over a bridge that is meant for other vehicles — those long snake-like ones. All their wheels have lost their air and they do not know if they will make it to this baby birthing place in time.”

The Psychic paused while the man-servant furiously caught up on his notes.

“The baby in her belly is Rosalinda. She will once again be Rosalinda’s mother.”

The Psychic fell silent. The man-servant looked up in anticipation.

Finally, The Psychic continued, “They survive the flood. Later, after her daughter is an adult, she is living in a gigantic city with millions of people. She is no longer married to the same man. She is going to her home in this cruel city but many of the streets are under water. It is another flood for this woman, a flood caused by a mighty ferocious storm. Trees are broken everywhere from the wind of this storm. Many houses are missing their roofs, and there is mud and trash everywhere. She survives but much of the city is destroyed.”

“Now I see her visiting her daughter. She is taking a meal with her daughter and her daughter’s husband and their daughter out in the wilderness next to a small mountain river. And the husband of her daughter is……me.”

The man-servant finished his note-taking and looked up at The Psychic in surprise.

“That is the life in which she pays me back for healing her now. She has a good life despite the horrible times and her knack for being around a lot of water.”

“And Rosalinda, her daughter in that life, will be an artist of the theater. And the daughter she and I will be having will be……”

The man-servant looked up, but The Psychic was finished healing. He was looking blankly into the air, seemingly in trance. The man-servant did not interrupt in order to find out who the daughter was. He said absolutely nothing.

After a long trance-like moment, The Psychic began walking towards the man-servant, saying:

“Take note.” (The servant began writing.) “Once again I see disaster and calamity in the future. And once again, I can only see as far as that period after the development of the big bomb. I have seen every type of horrible disaster imaginable during that time, and I never see anything after that period. It looks like that will be the end of the world. End of notes.”

“It looks like we are done here. Let us return to the hotel room and begin packing. Tomorrow we will head south. I hear the plague is especially bad down there.”

The man-servant put his quill and paper into a pouch, and then stood up. He followed The Psychic out of the room leaving the sleeping sick woman alone.

The Psychic was deeply rattled. With every person that he healed he saw horrific cataclysm in the future but he also saw the continuation of threads of love that connected people through time. Those threads seemed all that survived the horrific future times.

And now, thanks to Rosalinda, he saw threads of love that connected to his own future. He was shaken to the very core of his being. He saw that far into the future he would be linked in love with Rosalinda and that together they would bring forth a daughter….

…. and that daughter would be The Psychic’s twin-soul!

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. This story is adapted from my novel, Rejuvenation.

(Thank you to Ayesha Talib Wissanji for prompting me to share this story.)