Well, who would have predicted that?

I'm at Angel Moments Gift Shop in Altadena. It's 8pm last night, Sep 22, the lights have been turned down and eight of us are sitting round, silently watching Cesar, a plump, Latino-looking man who looks in his 30s with a neatly trimmed black beard, as he goes into a trance to act as a channel for Zachary, said to be a long-dead spirit from before recorded time who we are assured will try to answer any question we put to him. Win or lose, this is going to be interesting.
We are in the shop, a long, thin room lined with shelves full of spirtualist books, stones, candles, knick-knacks, bric-a-brac, almost anything a believer could want to buy to take home and get them in the mood. There are no out-and-out sceptics in the audience, but all look fairly matter-of-fact - no kaftans, no playacting.
Along with three or four others in the group, I take notes. Mine begin: 'Cesar meditates, seems to receive a spirit, "becomes" Zachary. Quite different from the jolly, outgoing person he was before the session.' He looks defiant at times, speaks slowly, even ponderously, uses words like 'attempt' instead of 'try', tells people 'Continue' when they ask if they can ask him something. He rolls his eyes up into his head from time to time, and occasionally lets out a slow, exaggerated, almost contemptuous laugh as he throws his head back. It could of course all be a huge act, but Cesar keeps it up for 90 minutes and gives every impression, before, during and after, of believing in what he is doing.
Some of the pronouncements are no than routine. Lynne asks him if Princess Diana was killed deliberately and whether she was pregnant when she died. Cesar/Zachary answers a definite no to both questions, adding that a conspiracy followed her death. He also repeated the oft-made prediction that Prince Charles would never become king. It was all stuff anyone could have picked up from any of a thousand newspapers, magazines, websites or TV or radio shows, but it dealt straightforwardly with the question as put.
Another public-interest question was would Hillary Clinton become US President? C/Z hedged a little, saying that was uncertain but next year would be the year of the women - 'It is time for the female energy to rise, yes'. This naturally met with general approval. Few rednecks attend seances.
C/Z was asked several personal questions, on the lines of should I move house, am I in the right job, where will I be in a year's time? Some were answered with a straight yes or no, others more ambiguously with encouraging phrases such as 'you will fulfil your purpose on this earth', which could mean anything. Much closing of eyes, falling silent, then glassy stares into the middle distance.
One lady asked if her daughter would get funding for a university course to study music. C\Z came back at his most Delphic: 'She must perform music in an ensemble, and the world will respond'. Whether the world would respond with the required cash or a big fat raspberry was left open.
Curious to see if C\Z could come up with verifiable facts, I asked if he could contact my dead father. He said my father wanted me to continue with my writing (Cesar had established before the session that I was a journalist, so that was no more than a standard piece of reassurance). I asked what my father's work had been and C\Z said he saw ledgers - fair enough, he had been in the UK Inland Revenue for the last 15 years of his career, but not as interesting as if C\Z had latched onto my father's previous 25 years in the London police force. There was some stuff about my father's artistic instincts having been suppressed on earth but how he was now expressing this side of his character - news to me, but possible.
Then C\Z said, unprompted: 'Is there a Benjamin in your life?' Bullseye, that's the name of one of my sons. C\Z reckoned I should go through Ben to to talk to my father, they were in touch. Then, slightly offbeam but still intriguing, C\Z asked if I knew a Mr Jackson. The connection there is that Ben's 18-month-old son is called Jackson, a common last name but an unusual first name.
C\Z added that he kept seeing an elderly man with spectacles and a long beard sitting at my side. We never managed to identify this apparently benign guest, who of course only C\Z could see: unless my clean-shaven, unbespectacled father had found a fancy dress shop on the other side, it didn't sound like him.
After 90 minutes, which I felt was a suspiciously convenient length of time, C\Z lapsed into prayer and Cesar woke up saying 'Oh man, what happened?' He claimed not to recall much of what he had been saying as Zachary, and was keen to know from us -an interesting twist if it was an act, but entirely consistent with his demeanor. It was the right length of time for an audience that had paid $25 a head, so wanted value, but were satisfied by then. But Cesar insisted that if Zachary had disappeared after ten minutes that would have been that.
So nothing conclusively proved but enough tantalising successes to make me think: 'Hmmm, I wonder....' At any rate, I'll be going back in a month's time.