by Crin Claxton
Maya concentrated on measuring out the restricted herb ephedra. The hay fever season had started with the spring blossom. It was important to measure out the quantity of ephedra sinica exactly.
When the repeat script of hay fever mix was made up, Maya placed the bottle on the white countertop in front of her. She stared at the label, comforted by her own neat writing. She loved herbal medicine and working as a healer. Sheila had spoiled that for her. Now Maya was jumpy with new clients. Occasionally, she got distracted when taking case histories and had to ask clients to repeat themselves. Some days she was surprised anyone wanted to see her. Thankfully, most of the time Maya went automatically into healer mode, a place where her own feelings didn’t matter and her only concerns were listening, taking notes, and finding the best herbs to help.
Maya took a deep breath and shoved Sheila down into the dark recesses of her psyche. That reminded her—Maya needed to make an appointment with her counselor. Following the crazy events of the previous summer, Maya had decided to study for her postgraduate diploma in psychology. Her undergraduate qualification was American, which meant she couldn’t automatically work as a psychotherapist in the UK. Maya didn’t know if she wanted to work as a counselor, but it was comforting to delve into that world again. Being in counseling herself was essential to the process. It was also helping her heal, or at least to understand how much the events had impacted on her.
Maya pulled another plastic travel bottle off the shelf and began making up a prescription for colitis. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings with Tony or Jade, even though both knew what had happened, and both had even been there when her uncle had tried to kill her. Maya was embarrassed and ashamed. She hated being made into a victim. And she’d been made a victim not once but twice. She was furious really. That’s when she wasn’t jumpy and terrified. She adored Tony, but she had a nagging fear she might be clinging to her because Tony made her feel safe. It was certainly time to make an appointment with her counselor.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rap on the treatment room door. Maya glanced at the big clock on the wall and frowned. There was still half an hour before her next appointment. Maybe the client was early.
“Come in,” she said, replacing the lid on the tincture bottle she had been measuring into the glass vial. She quickly poured the completed mix from the vial into the travel bottle so that none of the volatile components would evaporate.
Maya looked up as a slim, brown-skinned woman with short jet-black hair walked confidently into the room. She had a strong, slightly prominent nose, large oval eyes, thin eyebrows, and firm, dark lips. She had a white coat draped over one arm.
“Sorry to interrupt. I wanted to say hi. My name is Sunita. Most people call me Suni. I’m an acupuncturist, and I’m going to be working here four days a week.”
Maya smiled, taking the acupuncturist in. She was good-looking with a strong magnetic quality.
“Welcome. I’m Maya. I’m a medical herbalist. I’ve only been here a few months myself. Everyone seems very nice,” Maya said.
“You’re American!”
“Yes. So are you, by the sound of it.”
Suni nodded. “By way of India. Well, actually by way of India, then East Africa, and then America, Florida to be exact.”
“Ah, I was trying to place the accent, thank you.”
“And you.” Suni studied Maya. “You have that gorgeous East Coast thing going on. New England?”
“You’re good at accents.”
“I love New England. What’s your home town?”
“Provincetown.”
“No way! How did you manage that? Lucky you,” Suni said and then pulled herself up. “Sorry, what a presumption. I mean, I think that’s wonderful because I’m gay. Ptown’s my favorite place after Key West.”
Maya grinned. “People say that a lot. Especially Americans. I’m gay too. Though you know, when I was growing up, Provincetown wasn’t as gay as it is now.”
“I see. But hey, any time you want to go home you’ve got it made, no?”
Maya flinched. “I guess. I’ve got no plans to go home just now.”
“Well, here we are, two Americans, far from home. Two gay Americans and we stumbled into the same clinic. How weird is that?” Suni smiled.
“It’s a strange coincidence, isn’t it? So, you’re an acupuncturist. Are you a Chinese herbalist as well?”
“Yes.” Suni nodded. “And I’m an Ayurvedic practitioner, plus I do acupressure and Ayurvedic massage.”
“Right. Ayurvedic, that’s Indian herbal medicine?”
“Yep. Traditional medicine from the Indian subcontinent. One of the oldest forms of medicine in the world. So what’s the deal with this white coat?” Suni pulled the draped coat off her arm and flapped it at Maya.
Maya laughed. She smoothed her own coat down where it had wrinkled some.
“The practice manager likes us to appear professional. He said that people in the UK associate medical people with white coats. I didn’t want to wear one, but he insisted it was non-negotiable.” Maya shrugged. “I could have looked for another practice, but this has a good reputation, and it’s near where I live.” As soon as the words were out of Maya’s mouth, she regretted them. She didn’t want anyone to know where she lived. She realized her hand was clenched into a fist. Self-consciously, she relaxed it.
“Aha.” Suni was looking at Maya curiously. “So, where does a gay girl go to have fun in this city?”
Maya smiled. “The bars and clubs are mostly central. You can find all the details online.”
“Do you have any recommendations? Where do all the hot girls hang out?” Suni grinned.
“I couldn’t really say.” Maya smiled back. “I haven’t been to a club in months. The Candy Store’s popular. I go to a champagne bar with my girlfriend, but it’s straight.”
“Your girlfriend or the bar? Just joking. Champagne bar. Jeez, your girlfriend must be rich.” Suni’s eyes twinkled.
Maya shook her head. “Not at all. It’s not as expensive as it sounds. You can get champagne more reasonably here. Not that it’s cheap. You have to go to Paris for that.”
“Wow! Sounds like you’ve got a lot to teach me.” Suni leaned in, still grinning.
Maya pulled back, flicking her eyes to the clock on the wall. “Sorry, Suni, I’ve got a client in a few minutes.” She felt anxious and wasn’t sure why. Suni was being perfectly nice. Maybe she was flirting a little, but not inappropriately so.
Suni shrugged. She didn’t look in any way offended. She walked to the door and then turned. “If you think of any places it would be good for me to go, let me know.” With a smile, she opened the door and was gone.
Maya grabbed her client’s case note file for a quick once-over. She skim-read the notes to the previous appointment, her mind still on Suni. Maya’s instincts were all messed up. It looked like anybody new made her nervous now, not just new clients. Maya took a deep breath. This wasn’t good. As soon as the next appointment was done, Maya decided to call and book in with her counselor.
*
Jade sat propped up in bed with her tablet resting against her knees. She tapped the touch screen keypad as she replied to her agent. Jade didn’t know how hard her agent pushed directors and casting companies to open their ideas of what parts a black actor was suitable for. She’d been lucky with the casting agents for Oklahoma, her most recent show. Things were changing, but not as quickly as Jade would like. She couldn’t sit around waiting for a part in Carmen Jones or Sister Act. She needed people to consider her for any available part within her casting range.
The wind picked up outside, making the boat rock. Jade pulled the duvet up around her. She was glad the nights were getting shorter and the days vaguely warmer. She had been on edge since the photo incident.
The wind started to whistle. Jade stopped typing and listened. The boat rocked rhythmically from side to side. It would have been soothing if Jade wasn’t so tense.
A wailing began, distinct from the wind. Jade willed it to be foxes calling.
The crying sound built until it filled the room.
The room temperature dropped.
Jade jumped out of bed, turned the lights on full, grabbed her dressing gown, and pulled it tightly around her.
“Shut up!” she shouted to the bright, empty bedroom.
The noise stopped.
Jade scanned the room. She knew she wasn’t able to see ghosts, but she looked anyway.
“Who are you? What do you want?” she said.
The room was quiet.
Jade felt foolish. She was sure she was imagining things.
“About time. You’re the worst psychic ever.” An American voice, female, low, and sinister growled into Jade’s ear.
Jade gasped.
“What do you want?” Jade made her voice as tough as she could.
No one answered.
Jade waited. She shivered in the freezing room.
Still nothing.
Jade got back into bed.
She pressed her tablet and pulled up the image of the screaming woman.
“Is this you?” Jade asked.
“Yes.” Again, the voice was right next to her ear.
Jade spun her head round, but of course, there was no one there. No one she could see.
“I can hear you, but I can’t see you,” Jade said.
“Yeah, I know. What’s up with that?” The voice had a Southern twang to it. Jade usually liked Southern accents, but she wasn’t feeling very warm to this one. “Wow, I’m really screaming in that one, aren’t I? You should see your face.”
“I can see my face!” Jade snapped. “I can see your face in the photo. I just can’t see you now.”
“Why?”
“I ain’t know!” Jade felt frustrated. She didn’t deal with ghosts on her own. Tony was always there. “You should go see my friend. She’ll be able to see you, and she’s got a spirit guide who can probably help you as well.”
“She white?” the woman asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t want to talk to her. I want to talk to you, sister. You’re from the Caribbean. I can hear that when you let your accent slip.”
Jade softened. Maybe there was a reason the ghost only trusted black people. Maybe she’d been the victim of racism.
“What do you need from me?” Jade asked.
The woman took a breath. “I don’t know what happened to me. I was in a motel room. I took some pills. I can remember that, but I can’t remember why.”
“Do you need me to investigate?”
“No. I don’t care.” The woman’s voice was sharp. “I was surrounded by haters and players. The only one I trusted was my girlfriend. Don’t remember saying good-bye to her. I need you to.”
“Where is she?” There was no way Jade had the money to fly to the States.
“She’s here. She moved here. Maybe because she was grieving, I don’t know. My name’s Felicia. She’s called Suni. You find her, I’ll leave you alone.”
“What’s her last name? Where does she work?” Jade called out.
The room was silent. Jade didn’t know how she knew it, but she was certain Felicia had gone.
The boat was as solid as if it sat on dry land. There wasn’t a breath of wind.
Jade’s eyes fell back onto the photo of Felicia screaming into her face, and she shivered.
*
Tony took a long gulp of beer and crammed a handful of peanuts into her mouth. “How long till dinner?” she called through to Maya, who was cooking up a storm in Tony’s galley kitchen. Jade had come round for a meal and a catch-up on the old-school butch case.
Maya appeared in the doorway. She had a dab of tomato sauce on her nose. Tony thought it was fetching.
“What was that? I can’t understand a word you say when you speak with your mouth full,” Maya said sharply.
Tony grinned, not minding in the least being told off. “Jade and me just wanted to know when the food will be ready. We’re starving.” She grabbed another handful of nuts and managed to stuff three olives into her mouth as well.
Maya winced. “There are some benefits to you not having an eat-in kitchen. I don’t have to watch you doing that.”
Jade laughed.
“Eat-in kitchen? What’s that? A kitchen-diner?” Tony asked.
Maya nodded. “My spaghetti alla puttanesca will be another twenty minutes.”
“You made that sauce sound very rude,” Tony said, giving Maya a long look up and down.
Maya bit her lip. “It is rude. It’s spaghetti alla lady of the night.” She dipped her eyes at Tony.
“Why do working girls get a special sauce?” Tony asked.
Maya shrugged. “Don’t know. Olives and capers are obviously too risqué for some.”
“Make mine a large portion then.” Tony smiled. Maya gave a cute little swallow.
“It’s like I’ve stumbled across a late night channel watching the two of allyuh.” Jade cleared her throat before putting a handful of nuts into her mouth.
“What do you know about late night channels?” Maya asked with a teasing expression.
Jade studiously ignored her. “Tony, why there not any openings in Little Shop of Horrors? It’s been on a month. Someone usually fall ill by now, or break they leg.”
Tony pulled her eyes away from Maya’s body. She made a mental note to ask Maya not to wear such tight tops when they had company. It was too deliciously distracting.
“Earth to Tony!”
“Sorry, Jade. Actually, there is a spot in the chorus. I was going to mention it, but we’ve got a new choreographer.”
“That’s okay. I’m good at dance,” Jade said.
“Yes, I know you are. Usually. But, Jade, it’s Matt Baker.”
“Oh no! Why they change choreographer and why it had to be him?”
Maya perched on the edge of the couch. “What’s wrong with Matt Baker?”
“Matt Baker was the choreographer on Arabian Nights, the Musical. They contacted my agent because I had it on Spotlight that I was a Raqs sharqi expert.”
“That’s Egyptian dance, what most people call belly dancing,” Tony explained.
“I didn’t know you were a belly dancer. Go on then, do some! What sort of music do you need?” Maya said. Her voice squeaked with excitement.
“I will never dance that dance again. The memory still haunting me.” Jade put the back of her hand up to her brow.
Tony laughed. “It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t have gone to the audition. And you shouldn’t say you can do things when you can’t.”
“You can’t belly dance?” Maya looked disappointed.
“I can. Sort of. I’ve had training.”
“You did a taster day. When you were thirteen,” Tony said, “and you went to the audition letting them think you were an expert.”
“Well, I’d done it before, albeit some time ago, and I thought how hard can it be? I’m a good dancer, after all, and brilliant at picking up steps. How was I to know Matt Baker lived in Cairo for five years and studied with the best of the best?”
“Do you think he’ll remember you? What if you auditioned under a different name?” Tony asked. It was a real shame. It would perk Jade up to get a part in the show.
“Oh, I think he’ll remember me. He’ll remember me as the one getting behind in the moves, and then breaking into an entirely different dance routine.”
“Why did you do that?” Maya asked. Tony collapsed with laughter on the sofa.
Jade winced. “I didn’t mean to. I was getting all flustered, trying to keep up and then I don’t know, it was like a body memory or something. Suddenly, I was doing the dance break sequence from ‘Hey, Big Spender.’ Our version of Sweet Charity had an Arabic twist, well, ‘Big Spender’ did anyway. There was some belly rolling, and a lot of high kicks, and a bit with a feather boa. I didn’t have a feather boa at the audition so I improvised.”
Tony laughed so hard a peanut came out her nose.
“It’s a shame Matt Baker was so appalled. The director wanted me.”
“Everybody wanted you when you did that routine. I loved it when you were in Sweet Charity. When ‘Big Spender’ came on, I wanted to marry you, and that was before it was legal,” Tony said.
“Oh, you are a love.” Jade patted Tony’s hand.
“Before what was legal?” Maya asked.
“Gay marriage. Jade’s dance moves still aren’t legal in many countries and several American states,” Tony said.
Maya got up. “Well, as entertaining as you two are, I need to put the spaghetti on if we’re going to eat my Pretty Woman pasta.” She sashayed all the way to the kitchen. Tony’s eyes were riveted to her bottom until it disappeared beyond the doorway.
“I can see what you did there, with the film reference, very good!” Jade called after her. Then she lowered her voice. “Are you going to tell her she has tomato sauce on her nose?”
Tony shook her head. “No. Someone’s got to help her with her cleanliness obsession,” she said, deliberately spilling a couple of peanuts out of the bowl and scattering them across the glass coffee table. She decided against crushing one under foot because that would be tacky and going too far.
“I love how sexy it is between yawl.” Jade grinned at Tony.
“Yeah, it’s great. We don’t talk about anything, but we are having a huge amount of sex.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? You don’t like talking.”
“Normally I don’t.” Tony wondered how to explain the nagging feeling inside her that something wasn’t right with Maya. She turned the volume on the TV up. “But don’t people need to talk, when things have happened to them?” She moved closer to Jade and spoke quietly so Maya wouldn’t hear. “Maya’s always saying it’s wrong to bottle stuff up. You’d think she’d want to talk about her uncle trying to kill her. You’d think she’d want to, what’s it called, progress it.”