Dream Dancer (Ghosts Beyond the Grove Book 2) (16 page)

     So my nonsensical sentimental attachment to that box led me to get out of my car with the intent of giving its carcass a proper burial in the nearest garbage can.  Little did I know that I was falling smack dab onto the next sign from Mom. 

28.  Wax Cat in Hell

     The day they realized how obsessed I was with that stone was the day they decided to take it away from me.  That was my worst best day ever.  Or was it the opposite?  Either way, I hid my obsession from them for as long as I could.  It was the last shred of hope I had in this world and I guarded it closely.  Without it, I didn’t stand a chance and I never would have willingly handed it over.  But once they ripped it away from me, I started to see things from a much different perspective.  Hope didn’t truly exist in this world—only in the next.  That was where she was waiting for me.

     One of the nurses walked into my room abruptly that morning and startled me.  I’d hidden that stone under my blanket countless times before without incident.  But this time was different.  I didn’t have enough warning of her approach.  As I tried to fling it out quickly out of sight, my hand flew back too far, and hit my tray table.  That mystical, magical stone fell out of my grasp, rolled down the edge of my bed, and then hit the floor with a dull thud.  I was busted.

     “What’s this?” the nurse asked, bending over to retrieve the precious rock that I’d been clinging to so fiercely.  As she turned it over in her hand, I could see the blue light had vanished from the center of it.  Once again, it was merely a common looking chunk of rock.

     “Just a rock,” I replied shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly.  Maybe if I pretended it didn’t mean that much to me, they wouldn’t be as determined to take it away from me.

     “Where did you get it?  You aren’t allowed to have personal items here—you know the rules,” she said accusingly. 

     Since when did having a rock become the crime of the century?  I had no idea where that blessed thing came from—all I knew was that I got more happiness from that rock than I’d felt in ages.  I didn’t want her to take it away from me.

    “I found it in my room one day.  I assumed it was a gift my sister left for me.”  Or maybe
she
left it here for me to help guide me back to her.  Either way, it was
mine
and that stupid nurse had no right to steal it.

     “I’ll have to bring this to Dr. Landon’s attention.  He can decide whether or not you can have it.  In the meantime, I’ll keep it safe for you right here,”’ she said as she dropped it into the pocket of her scrub top and walked away.

     I couldn’t handle being here anymore.  I wanted to be
there
—where she was.  That was where she wanted me to be.  I hadn’t seen her in so long that my heart gave a few extra beats when she was suddenly standing in front of me.

     “You know what you need to do,” she whispered calmly then pointed to the railing at the head of my bed.  “You can use this,” she said as she stroked the stark white sheet draped across my bed.

     I connected the dots instantly and quickly tied the sheet into a crude noose and slid it around my neck.  The next part of what I needed to do wasn’t going to be anywhere near as easy.  In order to get that railing high enough for me to hang myself from, I was going to have to flip that bed onto its end.  That bed looked heavy and moving it was surely going to create a lot of noise.  I didn’t have much time and only one clear shot at killing myself.  This plan needed to be executed perfectly.

     Inhaling deeply, I wrapped my arms around that bed in a bear hug—willing my body to summon enough strength to do it.  I silently counted to three then tipped that bed upright and slid it back against the wall for extra support.  Then I pulled my nightstand in front of it and climbed on top.  I could already hear the sound of footsteps approaching as I wound the sheet through the rungs and knotted it tightly in place.  With one last exhale, I closed my eyes and flung myself toward the floor. 

29.  Will it All Come Out in the Wash?

     This time it literally
was
a sign—hanging in the nearest storefront window.  The sign bore a hand drawn image of a peacock feather and read, “Need answers?  Let tarot show you the way.  Three card readings half off today.”

     Checking the other signs in the window, I saw that the discounted cost for a reading would only be five dollars.  But there was one problem with this scheme.  Madame Ruisseau accepted cash only and I’d laid down my last bill at the restaurant earlier.  I was going to be getting a reading from Elva soon enough.  A random reading today simply wasn’t in the cards for me.  I thumbed my nose at destiny and began to walk away.

     As I should have known, destiny always had the final word in matters like this one.  No sooner did I turn my back on Madame Ruisseau’s den of mysticism than the money I needed found its way to me.  Something else besides that box was caught in the frenzy of the wind.  Something of value.  Something green with Abraham Lincoln’s face on it.

     There was the five dollar bill that I needed, whipping around in circles on the sidewalk.  I watched it for a few seconds, trying to figure out the best method for catching it.  This wasn’t going to be easy.  The current was strong and I had zero in the way of coordination skills.  This wasn’t even my pessimistic side surfacing.  Pessimism wasn’t really my thing anymore—realism was.  Realistically, I wasn’t going to pin down that cash without a good fight.  But I was coming to understand that good fights weren’t only inevitable in life, they provided depth to my character.

     I was fully prepared to spend the next few moments of my life darting back and forth like an idiot while chasing our sixteenth president down the icy walk when another idea hit me.  Synchronicity.  The odds of me nailing that bill on the first try were slim to none but I had synchronicity on my side.  If I took a deep breath and concentrated on what I needed to do, maybe—just maybe—I could actually make it work for me.

     Common sense would have said to keep my eyes on that money instead of closing them while I pictured things going the way I wanted them to go.  I knew I was risking losing that thing for good but it felt like the right thing to do.  So I did it.  Then while the vision was still hot in my memory, I stepped into the whirlwind and did exactly what I imagined myself doing.  I counted to five, closed my eyes yet again, and then stomped down hard on the concrete with my right foot.

     I was afraid to open my eyes.  I was standing on Schrodinger’s cat and I was scared to check for a pulse.  If this stupid synchronicity experiment failed, I wouldn’t be disappointed.  That was the most likely outcome for such a stupid plan in the first place.  But if it worked, oh, if it worked—then my way of thinking would forever be changed.  If that bill was under my foot, I knew that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to.

     When I opened my eyes, I saw nothing at first.  Nothing at all.  No hint of green peeking out around the side of my boot.  But strangely enough, I knew it was under there. Carefully, I raised my foot until the eyes of the great emancipator were staring proudly back at me.  In that moment, I felt invincible. 

     I peeled it up from the icy concrete and brushed it off on my pant leg before strolling confidently into Madame Ruisseau’s.  A three card reading wouldn’t give me all of the answers I needed—I knew that much.  That’s what I had Queen Elva for.  But Madame Ruisseau would at least be able to give me an idea of what I was up against in the meantime.

     Her shop smelled exactly like Something Wick-ed back home—the fragrant scent of fresh wax candles filled the air.  I knew I was in the right place.  There were a few customers perusing various handmade crafts but no Madame Ruisseau in sight.  I approached the counter and rang the bell for service.  The lady who appeared from the other side of the shop to assist me looked nothing like what I expected a tarot reader to look like.  I was expecting someone in gypsy robes with a scarf tied around her head.  She looked too normal to be a psychic.  But I changed my mind the minute I saw her eyes.

     Her eyes took me far away from frigid Ohio and back to the warmth and mysticism of Sedona.  I was staring into eyes like Salma’s—eyes that could see beyond the physical world.  They pierced so far into my soul that I became instantly covered in goose bumps.  This was going to be an insightful reading.

     Before I had a chance to tell her what I wanted, she gave me an odd look and said, “You have an aura unlike any I have ever seen before.  Please tell me you’re here to have your cards read.”

     Now my goose bumps had goose bumps.  I grinned and slid my hard fought windfall across the counter to her.  “You betcha!”

     “Follow me,” she said as she led me into a small alcove separated from view by a purple velvet curtain.

     My breath caught in my throat and I gasped out loud when I saw what was inside.  Feathers everywhere.  Gracing the walls, hanging from the ceiling, in the patterned fabric covering the small table where a deck of cards sat.  Even the artwork on the backs of the cards was a colorful peacock with its tail in a full fan.  I was most definitely in the right place at the right time.  Synchronicity and serendipity united in an unusual way.

     I sat down at the table, shaking with nervous energy.  What was I going to find out here?  What piece of the puzzle was being handed to me this time?  Madame Ruisseau handed the deck to me and a shiver crawled up my spine.  I could feel the power of the cards—there was something ancient yet timeless about them. 

     “I need you to think about the question that led you to me while you shuffle them.  I can see there’s a fire burning inside of you.  Channel that fire until you can see the flames with your mind’s eye.  When you feel that you’re ready, place the deck back onto the table.”

    
Was
there a fire inside of me?  It was an odd thought for me to focus on when I was supposed to be thinking about the myriad of questions I already had swimming inside my head.  But I thought about it anyway.  No, there wasn’t anything burning in me.  What was inside me was more like a tidal wave crashing and sloshing around.  My emotions weren’t flames licking at me from the inside—they were strong storm currents tossing me from side to side until I felt nauseous. 

     Rhythmically, I shuffled and reshuffled those cards until I was able to concentrate on what was important—Zach.  The soft sound of their well-worn edges passing over each other lulled me into a trance-like state.  It must have taken five minutes for me to get to the point where I felt that I was ready for my answer yet Madame Ruisseau showed no sign of impatience when I finally laid the deck down onto the table in front of her.  With a swish of her hand, she spread the cards out into a semicircle that spanned the width of the table.

     “You will need to pick three cards.  The first one you choose will describe your current situation.  The second will shed light on the course of action necessary to resolve it.  The last card will reveal the final outcome you can expect.  Take your time and pick the cards that speak to you.  If you have questions about anything I say, feel free to ask.”

     For this part of the reading, I didn’t need to take my time.  Without hesitation, I allowed my instincts to kick in and went for the first card my gut told me to choose.  Confidently, I flicked it in her direction still face down.  I swallowed hard as she flipped it over.  She studied it for a moment before placing it in front of me.

     “The Tower” was written in bold, black lettering below the image of a gray tower besieged by utter chaos.  Lightning, flames, falling bodies—there were so many powerful images in there that I found it overwhelming to try to decipher.  Yep.  This card most definitely described my current situation.  It was the epitome of hot mess in tarot card form.  And Madame Ruisseau’s interpretation of what this card said about my current situation was spot on.

     “Something quite unexpected has happened to you.  Your life changed drastically almost overnight.  You were turned upside down by something you never thought would happen.  And when it hit, you could have been knocked over with a feather—that’s how devastating it was.  You’re searching for a way to make everything right again—to find some method to the madness so that you may be at peace.”

     “Yes, peace,” I replied, feeling no shock at the fact that she used the word feather in her description of my inner turmoil.  I was starting to think that nothing in this world could shock me ever again.  I chose my next card as quickly as I did the first—like divine wisdom was guiding my hand.