Freedom Train

January 11, 1963 Cont./ January 14, 1963

"And you'd never met before?" Annabeth questioned disbelievingly.

"Never," he promised. "Clearly, her presence left me on edge and I almost booked before we even got to the part where she told me my future. Instead, my curiosity got the better of me and I followed her back into this little room that smelled like frankincense and candle wax. I sat at a small table and she sat across from me. Without warning, she reached out and took my hand, flipping it over on the table to study my palm..."

*flashback- 3 years prior*

Terrance couldn't help but shake his knee nervously underneath the small, wooden table. His eyes darted every which way, his nerves overtaking his body. Hanging fabric flooded the room, candles lit on every surface. The smells of incense and marijuana permeated his nose and his senses were on high alert. The human skull in the corner did nothing to calm his thoughts, nor did the varying hand sized rag dolls that packed the shelves in the over-crowded space.

This trip to New Orleans was one of the first he'd taken as a vigorous activist. How he had ended up in an essentially unseen Voodoo shop in the French Quarter was beyond him- Even though he was pretty sure he could thank Henry for putting the idea in his head with all the talk of New Orleans witches on the train ride over.

The allure of knowing your future is a great one, and once it was a notion in his head, Terry had a hard time letting go. That was always a problem for Terrance. A plan would bloom and he would have to follow it through, never giving himself time to rethink the situation or the idea.

As this mysterious woman reached across the table and snatched his hand, he regretted this flaw of his- And not for the first time. His impulsiveness had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.

The woman squeezed his hand and eyed his palm only briefly, before looking up and meeting Terry's eyes with hers.

"I see great conflict, child," the woman recited in her thick Cajun drawl. "But with great conflict is sure to come great reward. You're certain to be in the line of fire, but the winds of change will protect you from yourself and from those around you who are not who they say they are. Women will come and go until one woman will grip your heart with an unwavering virtue and light so unpolluted that you'll have no choice but to lure her into your world- The exact place she's supposed to be- Even if she can't always be with you. A family tragedy will separate the weak and through time and space this love will conquer, but only if you're both willing to sacrifice for the other."

Terry scoffed.

"You see all of this from my palm."

"I see all of this in your eyes, child," the woman answered. "Your palm tells stories of wealth, prosperity and life. But your eyes, they truly do show your soul."

Shortly thereafter, Terry paid the woman and was on his way, but he never could get her words free from his mind, or the look of honesty in her eyes when she spoke them.

***

Annabeth and Terry spend the rest of the night talking about nothing and everything. They laughed with each other, shared more stories of their childhood and their youthful indiscretions. In the hours between 10 P.M and sunrise the two learned more about each other than they had ever learned about another person in a single sitting.

Terry noticed Annabeth begin to shiver and pulled her into his lap to rest between his legs, bringing the blanket up to her chin and wrapping his arms firmly around her stomach.

"I should have you go before you catch your death," Terry whispered, his head tucked next to hers, his breath a whisper on her neck.

"I'm not ready to say goodnight," she yawned, resting her cheek against his chin, causing him lean down to kiss her shoulder and pull her tighter against him.