Sinners and Saints

Sinners and Saints Chapter 52 - (I) Can't Get Next to You

“The table must be crossed with silver for the spirits to talk,” Michael junior tells us both. 

We’re behind the purple curtain in a fairly standard reading room.  A lit white taper in a holder, a card table covered in a batik orange and brown paisley scarf.  A crystal ball about the size of a human head on the shelf behind him and a set of Tarot cards in front of him. 

I hand over my platinum card, “Silver enough?” I ask, even though it’s Jojo’s reading and not mine. 

“The spirits accept,” he nods and runs it through his Square reader attached to his smart phone, “That will be two-fifty,” he tells me and gives me the phone to sign. 

Two hundred and fifty dollars?  Damn – when I was into this phase it was one hundred. 

I sign and take my card back. 

“Let me see your palms, Jo,” he tells Jojo and she turns them over, “You do something in the medical field.  A nurse, perhaps.” 

“No,” she shakes her head and I nudge her not to give him any more information. 

“You have the hands of a healer,” he continues, “Some sort of care-taker?  Children or an elderly parent?” 

“No,” I answer this time. 

He scowls at me. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, “The cards will tell you what you need to know.  Now, concentrate on a question while I shuffle the cards.”

 I snigger silently behind her and she kicks me under her chair.

“Now, Jo,” he says after shuffling a bit, “I want you to hold that question firmly in your mind and cut the cards three times with your left hand – right to left.” 

I snigger again.  Jojo is left-handed. 

She does so and he tells her, “Feel the piles and find your card.” 

She pulls out the Queen of Swords and kicks me again before I can snigger at that.  She is so the Queen of Wands.  I am the Queen of Swords. 

She is the scholar.  I am the fighter. 

“Hold your card between your palms and let it gather your energy,” he tells her. 

I feel him then.  I don’t smell him – he’s invisible and probably poofed in the main store.  With that much incense around, who would notice?  But I feel his arm snake around my waist and his kiss on my cheek. 

“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask, standing up. 

Michael-junior looks up, annoyed that I broke the mood. 

“Bathrooms are for paying customers only,” he tells me. 

“Well, considering I just paid two hundred and fifty dollars for this reading – not to mention my own – I think I have paid for the privilege of having a tinkle.” 

“Fine,” he scowls, “Go through the blue curtain and it’s the first door on your right.” 

I go through the red curtain instead.  Drake is right behind me. 

The room is empty except for a large crystal bowl on a tripod. 

“What are you doing?” Drake chuckles and manifests in front of me. 

“Clark said that Michael had a scrying bowl tuned to the Goddess,” I tell him softly, “I want to check it out.” 

Knowing that we only have a few minutes, he and I stand over the bowl and look down.  He scratches softly along my shoulders and I lean into his touch.