Editor's note: This is the first in a five-part series about paranormal phenomena at Penn State and those that investigate them.

Salli K isn't a psychic -- she doesn't like the word. A psychic is one step away from a fortuneteller, and as she always tells customers visiting her Hetzel Street storefront, "there's no witchcraft, no dead chickens, no little dolls with pins in them" here.

There's only Mama K, and she calls herself a clairvoyant.

Today she's watching CNN, surrounded in her simple office by candles, crystals and dream catchers. She watches for the weather -- she has a grandson, just younger than 2 years old, and she has to know how warmly to dress him. And no, she can't predict how cold it will be tomorrow.

"I don't dictate anything," she said. She speaks softly, deliberately. Her cell phone rings about every five minutes -- Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" -- and she ignores the call, quietly snapping off the ringtone. "Nothing is written in stone except for the Ten

Commandments. God gives you choices, and you decide."

Where's she from? "Doesn't matter," she said. She and her husband pulled into State College about eight years ago; he was a Penn State fan and recognized the name on the exit sign -- he wanted one of The Diner's famous sticky buns. They drove past a store for rent, the windows decked out with tarot cards and open palms, and she took it as a sign.

Eight years later, she rents that store and State College is home. "If I didn't like it, I wouldn't be here," she said. "A lot of good people, a lot of positive energy."

She runs a thriving business; people seek her counsel every day, coming in off the street or calling on the phone. Under Pennsylvania law, she can't directly sell her services, so customers get a free reading with their purchase of a $25 candle or a $50 crystal.

In State College, her clientele doesn't tend toward one demographic -- "I can't say it's all students, because I've had the parents of those students come in," she said. She takes calls from international clients, does readings over the phone. There's a brisk business in crystal trading, she said, and hers sell at a premium.

Salli reads palms, interprets handwriting, practices astrology -- but these can offer only a rough measure of a person, she said. For those who want a deeper insight, she'll pull out her treasured deck of tarot cards.

They're special, older than many of the clients she hosts, worn but carefully preserved. Her younger cousin gave the cards to her 25 years ago, Salli says, and she's never seen a deck like them since. She likes them, and her customers do, too -- they feel comfortable with the Egyptian symbols, she said.

But these are just tools, nothing without her basic power, her gift. She doesn't exactly know how to describe what she has, but "intuitiveness" goes a long way.

"I'm not special," she said. "I'm a mom; I'm a grandmother. I just have a gift."

She pauses. "I thought everyone felt what I felt," she said. "You feel something, they ask you, you tell them. You don't see CinemaScope, Dolby Sound -- it's abstract. Some puzzle pieces don't fit."

With her gift and her tools, she said, she can give people insight -- perspective into themselves, into their future, into the people around them. She tells her customers to concentrate on three questions during tarot card readings, and by the end of the session, she does her best to answer them.

More people than you'd think share her gift, she said. "I've seen people who were afraid of it, even though it ran strongly in their family. Whether you like it or not, it kicks in."

People pass Salli's name by word of mouth. She does parties. If students can't pay, she'll tell them to send the money to her when they can. Her reputation is more important to her.

She's an understanding woman, and people come to her for advice, she said. But there's just one thing she can't stand --reality paranormal shows and ghost hunters, those who go on camera and say, in her words, "Oh! A ghost touched me! Oh!"

"If I were a ghost or spirit, and I saw a lot of guys with cameras, I'd run the other way," she said. "I don't look for spirits. Why go out of your way to get into trouble?"