Mediums Rare by Richard Matheson

Author:Richard Matheson [Matheson, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-7953-1694-4
Publisher: RosettaBooks
Published: 2011-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

Gladys Osborne showed equal evidence of being psychic at an early age.

It is not reported whether Leonore Simonds got in trouble for saying what she had but Gladys Osborne certainly did.

Because her father was leaving for Scotland that morning, eight-year-old Gladys was taken from her bed, clad in a dressing gown and brought downstairs to the dining room to have breakfast with him.

Scarcely awake, she sat in dutiful silence while he lectured her, telling her how he expected her to behave in his absence.

Too sleepy to concentrate on his words, Gladys stared at the wall across from her, enjoying the vision she had seen for several years now.

Before her lay a green valley bordered by verdant hills. The sky above was a sparkling blue, the light a vivid golden hue although there was no sunshine and no shadows.

Walking on the velvet-like grass, past banks of multi-colored flowers, were couples and groups of people dressed in graceful, flowing robes of varying hues. They all looked happy and contented.

As they always did.

“Gladys,” said her father firmly.

She blinked and turned her head to look at him.

He was gazing at her with a frown of disapproval.

“What the devil are you looking at?” he asked.

She stared at him, not knowing what to say.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve spoken,” he told her. “You’ve been staring at that wall the entire time. Why?”

She swallowed. “I….”

“What?” he interrupted. “What were you looking at? That pair of mounted pistols?”

“Oh, no,” she said, concerned that he would think that.

“What then?”

She felt a sense of confusion. Dada didn’t see it?

“My …place,” she said. “My Happy Valley.”

He gaped at her. “Happy—?” he began, then did not complete the phrase.

After several moments of dark appraisal, he did complete it. “Happy Valley?” he enunciated slowly.

“Yes, Dada.”

William Jocelyn Osborne put down his cup of coffee and leaned across the table to peer suspiciously at his daughter.

“What in the name of God are you talking about?” he demanded.

At first, her father, then her family, thought that Gladys was making it up.

But when she persisted, describing, in such minute detail, what she saw, they became alarmed, then punitive.

Their orthodox beliefs did not include probing into “things which were not meant to be understood.”

Gladys was forbidden to ever see this “Happy Valley” again.

In time, the visions—doubtless weakened by the collective negativism of her family, her doctors and friends—disappeared, leaving Gladys with a sense of deprivation.

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