Owls and Orchids

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I was still smarting from the way my last friend and psychic exited my life when I started working with Cherylane. It was to be a new beginning. She was a completely different person to Anya  in every way possible.  I was determined this time to find out if the person I was going to work for and with was ethical in their work, so I ventured out to where she regularly did shows and sat in the audience. She had never met me in person, we had only spoke on the phone, so it would be an interesting evening.

What was interesting was the unexpected message I received. There was absolutely no denying it was for me, nor who it was from, and no way she could have possibly known of the connection. It was a message from my ex husband’s father so it was as much a shock as surprise.

After the demonstration closed I waited behind to say hello to her, both of us laughing at the message since she had no idea I would be there. It seemed an auspicious start.  It certainly made her ability credible, but gave no clue as to the storm I was about to be engulfed in.

Due to my loyalty in staying with Anya, Cherylane had employed a part-time office helper, Robyn, to assist her with appointment bookings. I was to take over her role and travel with Cherylane when she went on the road to do her shows. This was the first lesson that I should have heeded.  Robyn was a former client. Cherylane had complained bitterly at her lack of commitment since she had a small child and was often missing or unavailable.  She said she was eager to let her go so I could start and get everything shipshape.  Unfortunately Cherylane then decided she couldn’t let Robyn go because she felt sorry for her due to the circumstances under which they had met. (A small hint).

I could understand her feelings but when her work was affected Cherylane was not very polite about airing her grievances, at least not to me. Still, Robyn’s hours were increased, mine cut to cover the away trips only and since I had already signed an agreement with her I was stymied. Truthfully, I was keen to work with a genuine psychic, so I was willing to give the arrangement a trial, especially when she indicated that if Robyn didn’t pick up the pace she was definitely going. Plus, she also said she would ‘teach me’ as we traveled.

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The first trip arrived, traveling from Brisbane to Sydney and all parts in between. I was told to pack lightly because we had to take all the ‘show’ materials. A little nonplussed I none the less complied. She collected me from home as I was on the way to the airport and I found out why I needed to pack light. She had hundreds if not thousands of brochures, flyers, business cards and books! She had self published her first book and it was going to be part of my job to sell them at each venue.  So, a smallish suitcase for me and Cherylane and two enormous bags stuffed to the seams with books. Heavy books! Overweight baggage!

It was not long after my accident and I had made sure she had been aware of the lingering back problems but apparently it didn’t factor into her plans. I had to haul one of these gargantuan monstrosities along with my bag. Timetables arranged by Robyn had us sprinting between connecting flights, different airlines so the luggage had to be grabbed and hauled to the new departure point. Not happy – not at all.  I was ready to cry as my shoulders felt they were being dislocated every time we pulled the bags along.

At each venue it was my responsibility to co-ordinate with venue staff to get the room arranged correctly, microphone and speakers set up, chairs, a room for her to ‘prepare herself’ beforehand, and escape afterwards, set up my table outside and have all the ‘materials’ ready. She wasn’t keen on separate rooms at the motels due to the cost, but circumstances changed this later.

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By the time we arrived at our first destination I was shattered. I was unsure which part of me ached the most. I went to the venue and got everything ready whilst Cherylane rested up for the evening.  However, when I finished I returned to the room and went in to have a rest myself. Oh Boy! The proverbial hit the fan. She was furious and I found out she had the vocabulary of a dock worker. Unknown to me, I was expected to walk the town until it was time to shower and get ready for the performance. Eating was a poor after thought as she now decided to tell me she was a vegetarian and couldn’t be near any meat… and she preferred not to eat before a show. Wonderful!

The show went well, book sales were good (thankfully, less to haul around), and plenty of tickets had been sold. An auspicious start I hoped. It was, until we went to bed that night. The schedule called for a unappealingly early start after the late night and for once I fell asleep reasonable quickly. Until there came the most ferocious swearing from the bedroom next to me. Cursing and swearing non stop I finally went to see if anything was wrong. There was….. the spirits from the people who would be attending tomorrows show were trying to ‘get in early’ and she couldn’t shut them up and therefore couldn’t sleep. Still, the language was ripe. (Lets not forget as a police officer I used to arrest people for using that language in front of me!) Sleep was fitful and the sudden yelling, shattering to say the least.

Hollow eyed we set off at 4.30 that morning. An early radio show (advertising) was scheduled. With no prior warning or communication, I was not to know that in the somewhat frigid early morning hours I was expected to wait outside whilst she went inside and shone.  One of the radio personnel who saw me arrive with her invited me in and got me coffee.  As a result I was introduced to the radio crew who asked me into the booth with them (Big mistake). She went over fabulously but did not like sharing the limelight, even though I didn’t speak.  When the giveaways came out, and she fessed up to never wearing makeup (which I already had on) so they gave me half a dozen goody bags. Feeling quite pleased after the awful night and early start I was dismayed to be thoroughly abused after we left. This was not turning out as I expected. Lesson number two I failed to heed.

Each day was basically the same, an early start hauling the bags, dashing to either planes or venues for advertising promotional work and then to the motel for a ‘rest’. By day 7 I was beginning to realise that this was not at all the way it had been proposed to me. As an overworked, underpaid and abused lackey it fell far short of appealing. Sleep was almost non-existent and the frigid bouts of tantrums was beyond amusing.  Yet day 8 cracked all the rest to date.

image from http://www.dreamstime.com

Back at the motel we were sharing I arrived to find Cherylane swearing into her mobile and bashing out something on her laptop. When she saw me I was given a frozen stare and told to collect her washing and put it in with mine in the laundry a few doors away.  Oh – and to wait until it finished because someone was sure to try to steal the clothes. Cold, tired and really miserable, it was turning out to be a trooper of a day. I did meet a really great old guy there who turned up with a hot cup of coffee and kept me company for  a while, People with hearts of gold still exist I’m grateful to say.

Another six days of this and I was wondering what I had let myself in for. In a haze of pain, sleeplessness, swearing and cursing each night, being treated like an inconvenience, I was wondering if my sanity had deserted completely.  Not quite yet…. more was to come.  Home had never looked so good.

Next week, Lessons from Spirit I couldn’t deny.

Blessings  Susan xx

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