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The community center's hall had seen better days, but this was the only option I could think of—or afford. The worn wooden floor creaked in places, and the pale green walls bore marks from countless past events. But to me, it was the start of something new, something potentially groundbreaking.
I felt good about my decision; I just prayed that a few people showed up. I was kind of glad I hadn’t put a phone number on the flyer. I wasn’t sure how I would answer the obvious questions.
“What does this mean?”
“Is this a ghostbusting group?”
I began setting up the chairs in a circle, allowing for a more inclusive atmosphere. I didn’t want anyone to feel as though they were on display. This needed to be a space of openness and understanding. After much shuffling around I think I had it right. I mean, this wasn’t the first time I’d led a group meeting. Just not this kind of group meeting.
The clock ticked steadily, its hands moving towards the hour, and the butterflies in my stomach grew more animated with each passing minute.
Okay, who was I fooling? This was new territory for me. What if no one showed up? Or worse, what if they did, and I couldn’t provide the support they were seeking?
The door creaked open, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. The first attendee had arrived—a familiar face. Linda, my patient who had always felt emotions tied to objects. I gave her an encouraging smile. We didn’t talk much, but she offered to brew the coffee and I happily agreed.
More people trickled in, some faces recognizable, others new to me. But there was a familiar air of hesitancy, of hope mixed with trepidation. People were curious, excited even, but they weren’t sure what to expect. I tried to allay their fears by assuring each of them that the group would be a good thing. A place of understanding and support.
I felt a gentle touch on my arm, and turning around, I was met with the warm eyes of Clara. It had been months since she last visited my office.
“Clara! It's so good to see you,” I said, genuinely pleased. I resisted the urge to hug her. This was the hardest part of my job, keeping people at a professional distance.
She looked slightly embarrassed, a pink hue blossoming on her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Dr. Emily. I know I should've come in. Things have been... complicated. But I promise I’ll book an appointment soon.”
I squeezed her hand reassuringly. “It's okay, Clara. What matters is that you're here now. How is your painting coming along? Making progress?”
She shook her head, again her face reddened. “Not really. That’s why I’m here.”
Duh. Why had I asked such a question?
We stood in comfortable silence for a moment before she finally spoke up. “So, why this group, Dr. Emily? What made you want to start it?”
I sighed, choosing my words. “I felt there was a need. A lot of individuals feel isolated because of experiences they can’t quite explain or understand. You aren’t alone, Clara. You might be surprised how many Crestwood residents have similar...challenges as you. And if I can create a place where you can find understanding, then maybe, just maybe, together, we can make a difference.”
Clara nodded thoughtfully, clearly appreciating the sentiment behind the group. She excused herself to find a seat and I was happy to see that the room had filled up more than I had anticipated. Some seemed eager, chatting animatedly, while others clutched their chairs, their nervousness palpable.
Okay, curb your enthusiasm. Some of these folks are looky-loos and not actually what I’m looking for.
Taking a deep breath, I moved to my chair. “Thank you all for coming,” I began, my voice steady. “I know for some of you, this is a big step. But I hope, together, we can create a space of understanding and support. In case you don’t know me, I can see that many of you don’t, my name is Dr. Emily Thompson. Most of my patients call me Dr. Emily. I started this group because I want people to have a place, a safe place, to share experiences. Supernatural experiences. It’s important that we all obey the one rule in this group. What is shared here, stays here. Privacy is key. If you can all agree to that, and sign the NDA forms, we can make this happen.”
A round of applause circled the room, and I got up to man the coffee pot. Yes, five people exited, but I didn’t hold it against them. This wasn’t their cup of tea.
As the group of six remaining gathered in the circle, preparing for a more intimate discussion, the door creaked open once more, drawing all eyes to it. The silhouette of a tall man filled the frame. As he stepped into the light, recognition struck me. Alex, the man from the diner. The guy who loved astronomy!
There was a brief, charged pause in the room.
“Sorry, I'm late,” Alex said, sounding somewhat uncertain. “I... um, saw one of those flyers at the library.”
I nodded, gesturing to an empty seat. "Welcome, Alex. Please join us."
He took an empty chair, glancing around the circle, taking in each face and making polite introductions. When his gaze settled on me, I felt that familiar undercurrent I'd sensed during our chat at the diner.
Clearing my throat slightly, I decided to initiate the introduction session, "Why don't we start with hellos? Share your name, please, and only as much as you're comfortable with. No pressure."
Linda went first naturally. Of everyone here, Linda was the most outgoing and as a divorcee with no family locally, she confessed that she felt free to talk about her experiences with anyone that would listen. Linda described the emotional imprints she'd pick up from objects. The group listened, nodding occasionally, some of their eyes widening with recognition, or perhaps, understanding.
My gaze shifted back to Alex. "Would you like to go next, Alex?"
He hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly on his chair. "I'm Alex. I've felt... different things, I guess. Some of which I don't fully understand. I'm hoping this group might shed some light, maybe make me feel less... isolated." Alex’s handsome face was a mask, one that I could not easily penetrate. It would take work to earn his trust. I could see that.
There was a silent understanding in the room. Many in the group felt the same way, isolated in their experiences. It's why they were here after all, seeking solace and answers.
I found my gaze lingering on Alex a tad longer than necessary. Was it his enigmatic aura that held me captive? Or perhaps the memories of our chance encounter at the diner? There was a magnetic pull, but I wasn’t naive. It wasn't purely professional.
Shaking off the thoughts, I redirected my attention. I needed to maintain a safe, neutral space for everyone. "Ben," I gently nudged, "would you like to share?"
He took a deep breath, his every gesture radiating a mixture of vulnerability and courage. "H-hi everyone, I'm Ben.” He paused, searching for the right words. "I’ve always found solace in the library; it's believed to be quiet. But for me, it’s never silent. I’m... I’m telepathic." He looked around the room, as if bracing for disbelief. "I can't switch it off. It's like I'm trapped in a room with a radio that's always on."
There was a palpable shift in the room—a mix of fascination, empathy, and acknowledgment of the depth of his admission. I had to admit, I too was fascinated, but I wasn’t going to push him.
Linda leaned forward; her curiosity evident. "That's truly incredible, Ben. So, if I focus on something right now, you could...?”
I cut her off, trying to protect Ben's boundaries. "Linda! That’s not what we’re doing here."
Ben intervened, offering a small smile. "It’s okay, Dr. Emily. I... I don't mind. Try me, Linda."
She closed her eyes for a moment, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Okay, I’m ready.”
As Ben concentrated, I noticed a strange spark in his eyes. It was as if he was sifting through myriad frequencies, trying to home in on just one.
After about a half a minute, Ben cautiously shared, "You're recalling... a beach. A childhood memory, walking hand-in-hand with your grandmother, and you discovered a starfish." These weren’t questions. Ben was stating fact, as he saw it.
Linda's eyes widened; her surprise evident. "Exactly right. I picked something completely off-topic, trying to stump you. Ben! You’re amazing!"
The atmosphere thickened with raw vulnerability. Ben's openness had bridged a connection with Linda, and all of us.
Gratitude warmed my chest. "Thank you, Ben, for letting us in. And thank you, Linda, for your understanding. We're here to lean on and learn from each other."
There was some nervous chatter among the group, but I didn’t want the meeting to evolve into a display of Ben’s abilities. Or whatever this was. I wasn’t completely in agreement that was what was happening.
Perhaps it was a lucky guess? Could Linda and Ben have coordinated this interaction? No way. They didn’t know one another before this, did they?
I subtly glanced at the clock on the wall behind Alex. Time was getting away from us. We only had two hours. Time to move this along. Who should I engage first? Clara, my patient, or Lolo, the young woman with a chip on her shoulder? I went with Clara first.
“Clara? Would you like to go next?”
Clearly uncomfortable and blushing again, Clara glanced at Alex first, but nodded her head.
“Okay, here goes nothing.”
And so she began.
