Maximum Bob Read Online Free PDF Page B

trees—telling him that—though she had never heard or read of such a thing in any of her books. Christ, dozens of books on spirit communication, psychic enlightenment, aura reading, crystal healing, getting in touch with your chakras, channeling—which was what Leanne did to get hold of the little colored girl she called her discarnate entity, or sometimes her spirit guide. Ask Leanne how she did it, she’d tell you.
    “Easy as pie. I raise my energy level to resonate with Wanda’s, see, then she’s able to use my energy channel to manifest herself through me.”
    Oh.
    “That’s her name, Wanda?”
    “Wanda Grace.”
    “How old is she?”
    “Twelve.”
    “That’s all? And she knows everything?”
    “Age doesn’t matter.”
    “But why her? Why not somebody more like yourself?”
    “Wanda was killed by an alligator.”
    Ask a simple question…
    The time he did he saw Leanne get that scared look for a second, saw her eyes close, her eyelids flutter and now she was speaking in her little colored-girl voice.
    “The gator drug me into the swamp and spun me round and round and round till I was drowned. Then what he did, he took me down to his house and lef’ me, didn’ eat me till I turn ripe. Tha’s the way they is, like you ripe.”
    Leanne opened her eyes.
    She said, “Wanda Grace’s little dog ran away. It was when she was down by the swamp looking for Pokey it happened. The same month, the same day and hour as my Experience, except Wanda passed over in the year 1855. She lived on a plantation in Clinch County, Georgia, as a slave.”
    “Maybe,” the judge said, “you can get her to dust and do the windows.”
    Oh, you didn’t kid about Wanda Grace. Leanne’s face would turn to stone and the judge would have to act innocent.
    “Honey, I thought she wanted us to open our hearts and be happy, have some fun in life.”
    Leanne said, “Your idea of fun is cruel. Sending people to prison, degrading those less fortunate. Wanda Grace was a slave . All her people died of the fever except she.”
    What happened to the healthy girl who used to wiggle her tail and could smile underwater? Now she communicated with a spirit and played with crystals to improve her inner vision. Show you how much sense that made, she’d bury the crystals in the backyard every few days, in the dirt , she said to cleanse them and restore their energy. Get her in bed, she might just as well have her tail on. It was like doing it to a woman in a trance. Hey, where are you? He would never ask who are you, afraid she might answer in her little colored-girl voice. She never did it with the lights on or spoke while they were doing it.
    When she did speak during the day, in her mild, airy tone, it was to pass on information.
    “Big, Wanda says you need psychic counseling, maybe even alchemic hypnotherapy, have a specialist take a look at that negative ego.”
    “I will if you’ll get your head examined.”
    “Wanda says you need a good psychic cleansing, you won’t be so irritable.”
    “Is that right? She ever take a look at the kitchen? The dishes piling up in the sink…”
    “Some things, Big, are more important than others. I’m trying to help you.”
    “Why don’t you go someplace else and do it? Like back to Ohio.”
    “Wanda Grace says I have to keep trying, use my mediumistic gift to raise your vibration level and you’ll come to know your Higher Self.”
    And on that note Bob Gibbs said, “Why don’t you tell that little nigger to mind her own business.”
    So frustrated he was admitting her existence. Going on seven years of this because Leanne had been scared by an alligator.
    He did get her a dog from the pound, a tiny brown-and-white hyperactive mutt that yipped and jumped up on your lap, a cute little pup Leanne named Pokey after Wanda Grace’s dog. (“I calls him Pokey ‘cause he like to poke his little nose where it don’t belong. I tells him he goin’ poke it in the wrong place sometime…”) He got