A Touch of Gold

by Joyce Lavene; Jim Lavene

  “I don’t know. Want me to check on that?”

  “That would be great. Thanks. But not tonight. This is Saturday, remember? I don’t think we even pay you to work on Saturday.”

  “You know I love to come in here. I don’t care what day it is.” She smiled at me, her eyes searching my face. “Anything I should know about, Dae?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m still connecting the dots right now. I appreciate your help, Nancy.”

  “You know I love to snoop!”

  We both laughed, but it was true.

  “The Duck Historical Society has planned an emergency meeting,” she said. “It’s Monday at seven thirty P.M. They’d like you to be there. I think they may be talking about a fundraiser for the new museum. They probably want you to lead the charge.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll put it on my calendar. Now go home. Take up knitting or something.” She knew I was joking, at least a little. No telling how much time she really spent up here keeping everything straight for us. If there was a real heart to Duck, it was Nancy.

  A new Duck museum. What would that be like without Max? Who would take his place as curator? No one sprang to mind. I knew it had to happen. I knew there would be someone we would all come to accept as our new historian, but it was hard to imagine who right now.

  I finished my walk to Missing Pieces, slamming the door closed behind me. I was sad and still angry about Max’s death. Here I was trying to find out who had done these terrible things and Brad accused me of being the perpetrator. I had to pace back and forth through the shop several times before I started to calm down.

  “Dae?” Trudy came up on me with a big smile on her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t think I can talk about it yet.” I stared at her, then started pacing again. “That arson investigator doesn’t have any idea what’s going on. He accused me—me—of having something to do with it. Just because I was at the museum and the house fire and in Corolla before Sam Meacham died. Can you believe it?”

  “That’s crazy!” She sat down on the burgundy sofa. “But I sold some stuff this morning. That’s good news, right?”

  “That’s very good news. Thanks, Trudy.” I sat beside her. “Imagine him thinking I could kill someone! Like I can even run a stop sign without worrying that I’ll get a ticket and Gramps will never let me forget it. And now there’s Kevin—another person who used to be in law enforcement. What’s wrong with me? How can anyone think I could kill someone?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe you should ask Shayla. She could do a tarot reading and tell you all about it. Come on. You two have to make up sometime, and you were the one who stole her boyfriend.”

  I wanted to explain that Kevin and Shayla weren’t together anymore before I started seeing him, but I decided to let it go. In the wake of everything that had happened, it seemed paltry. I had to call Gramps and Kevin and let them know about Brad’s accusation.

  Kevin’s cell phone went to voice mail, and there was no answer at the Blue Whale. I tried to call Gramps, then remembered he was out with his friends. His phone went to voice mail too.

  “Calm down,” Trudy advised. “Things can’t be that bad.”

  “I suppose that depends on your definition of bad.”

  “Well you know you didn’t kill anyone or set anything on fire, right? They can’t touch you, Dae. All that guy has are suspicions. So he saw you at the fire. So what? Half the town was there, and at the museum right after it exploded.”

  “You’re right.” Of course she was right. Brad had to be rattling my cage—trying to find out if I knew anything he didn’t know. It was classic investigative technique.

  Shayla opened the shop door but wouldn’t come inside. “Trudy, can you come out here, please?”

  Trudy rolled her eyes. “No. I won’t come out there. You’re not a vampire—you can walk in without permission. Get in here! We need you.”

  “I’d rather not. Dae and I are no longer friends. And if I were a vampire, you would’ve just invited me inside so I could kill you.”

  “Don’t be silly. Dae would’ve had to ask you to come in for it to work if you were a vampire.” Trudy shook her head as if everyone should know these vampire facts. “You two have to hash this out. One of you has to give in and say you’re sorry.” She took turns glaring at both of us.

  “I’m not doing that,” Shayla said. “Dae stole my boyfriend. She has to apologize.”

  Trudy nudged me with her elbow. “Well?”

  “I’m not apologizing! Shayla and Kevin had broken up before I started dating him. I didn’t steal anything.”

  “Do you disagree with that?” Trudy asked.

  Shayla leaned against the door frame. “Maybe. But she could’ve told me the truth instead of making me guess.”

  “Okay.” Trudy held out her hands. “Why don’t you both apologize? Dae, you say you’re sorry for how this business with Kevin was handled. Shayla, you say you’re sorry for dragging this out when you knew you and Kevin were over anyway.”

  I glanced at Shayla. Trudy was right. This had gone on too long. “Sorry.”

  “I guess I’m sorry too.”

  “Good! Now get in here and let’s have a hug,” Trudy said.

  Shayla and I moved toward each other reluctantly but ended up hugging and talking.

  “I came by to tell Trudy to warn you that I saw something strange in a tarot I did today.” Shayla smiled. “I guess I can tell you personally.”

  “Strange how?” I closed the door to the shop as we all walked back and sat down on the sofa.

  “It was a man of authority crossing you. He has power given to him by the establishment. He’ll cause you trouble, Dae. You have to watch out for him.”

  “Sounds like Brad Spitzer.” I explained to her about my conversation with him.

  “I saw Kevin in there too,” Shayla continued. “He’ll help you get through this. There was another man—an older man who has great power and wealth. He has something you need. It could be information or something practical. I couldn’t tell for sure. Death surrounds him. Be careful of your dealings with him.”

  Shayla was phenomenal. She’d described my problem with Brad and had seen part of my vision of the older man who’d given Max the gold. I broke down and told Shayla and Trudy about my new abilities and the visions I’d had.

  “Dae, that’s powerful!” Shayla exclaimed. “Your abilities are growing. They might rival my own one day. That must be why your chakra looked so weird—that and love will do it every time.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. Kevin was afraid I couldn’t control the visions, but I’m learning to handle them just fine. The terrible part is not understanding what I see. The Segway thing with Sam and the old man with the gold—I don’t know what they mean.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Trudy said. “Something will happen and things will click into place. Always do. You’ll see.”

  I made some coffee, and we sat around talking. We didn’t bring up the mess with Kevin and Shayla again. I hoped that was water under the bridge now. Shayla went through men pretty fast. It probably wouldn’t be long before she found someone else.

  It was getting close to three P.M., and only a handful of potential customers were walking up and down the boardwalk. Most of them were locals—which was good for Shayla and Trudy, who had their weekly regulars. Missing Pieces mostly depended on the tourist crowd. Business picked up a little around the holidays, but winter was a long, slow time for me.

  I straightened up the shop again after Trudy and Shayla left. I picked up a few items to explore their origins. I was getting better at controlling this new ability, more able to learn from it.

  I found that some of the items I thought were treasures were fakes. I hated that, but it was bound to happen once in a while. Some other pieces I thought were mostly junk turned out to be great stuff—I raised their prices.

  Feeling confident of what I could do, I picked up my carved African hand mirror that I loved
so much. I always kept it behind the counter so customers would know it wasn’t for sale. I had a basic idea of where it had come from—the old man at the market in Charleston had told me it once belonged to an African princess. But what I saw today wasn’t what I’d expected.

  Beyond pain. Beyond fear. Longing for death that wouldn’t come. No way out. Trapped and caged.

  I looked at my arms and legs—they were covered with open sores, broken and swollen. The pain of hunger and thirst were not as bad as knowing that death was the only escape. I looked in the mirror and saw the ravaged face of a black slave gazing back at me. She would never make the trip to the market alive.

  An African princess, the man in Charleston had told me. Had he known she was a dying slave?

  I was on the floor, vomiting and crying, my whole body shaking violently. When I could get up, I sat behind the counter for a long time, glad that no one had come into the store. It was hard to get back into myself without the terrible shadow of the woman in the mirror gnawing at my soul.

  So much for confidence. So much for not being scared to touch anything. Kevin had been right about losing myself in this new ability. He hadn’t been here to catch me this time—no one had. The terrible stench of death and decay—the fear and hopelessness—were still with me.

  When I could stand again, I cleaned up the mess behind the counter and washed my face. I put on gloves to move the mirror to the storage area in the back of the shop. I could never use it or appreciate its beauty again. But I couldn’t sell it right away either. Maybe not ever.

  I mechanically turned off the lights, closed up and locked the door behind me. I sat on the boardwalk for a long time, looking at the sound. There were things in life much more terrible than being accused of a crime I knew I didn’t commit. The hand mirror had shown me that.

  It was dark and getting colder—my knee was aching with it. I felt in my pocket and realized I’d left my cell phone in the shop. There were a dozen missed calls from various people. Exhausted and emotionally drained, I ignored them and headed home.

  Kevin waylaid me in the parking lot. “Sorry I couldn’t get to my phone when you called earlier. I called you back six times. Are you ignoring me or is this punishment for not answering your call?”

  I looked at him and wanted to explain but couldn’t. “I’m not feeling very well. It’s been a bad day. I think I should go home.”

  “Dae?” He stopped me. “Can I help? At least let me give you a ride.”

  I agreed—it was easier than arguing. We sat silently in the truck as he drove the short distance to my house. I couldn’t talk about anything without blubbering all over. As much as I’d wanted to tell him about Brad’s accusations, I couldn’t without telling him about my beautiful hand mirror. I wasn’t ready for that yet.

  “Thanks.” I got out of the truck and headed up to the house.

  He got out too and walked me to the door. “Whatever it is, I wish you’d tell me. Even if I can’t help, at least I can listen.”

  “Not tonight. I can’t. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I went inside, told Gramps I was going upstairs. I heard him talking to Kevin downstairs less than five minutes later. I pulled the covers up over me—shoes and all—my head too. Why couldn’t they leave me alone to sort this out?

  There was a knock on the bedroom door. “Dae?” It was Gramps.

  “Go away. Please.”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “Is Kevin out there too?”

  “No.” A pause while he decided if he should lie to me. “He’s downstairs. We’re both worried about you.”

  “Don’t be. I’m fine. I’m going to take a nap. I’ll eat something later.”

  “Dae—”

  “Please, Gramps.” I was already sniffly. “I’ll come down when I can talk about this. When it’s all sorted out in my head. Okay?”

  “All right. I’m here if you need me.”

  “Thanks.”

  I cried—a good, long, hard cry. But this one was cleansing. I must’ve fallen asleep afterward because I woke up and looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. I felt better. I was out of tears and the terrible sorrow had passed. It left me hungry and ready to raid the fridge. Bad news if my new abilities made me hungry all the time and I gained a lot of weight.

  I put on my Duck pajamas, dark blue with the sandaled Duck mascot on the back. Gramps was still up, watching an old Doris Day movie on cable. He turned it off when he saw me. “I know what you need. Scrambled eggs and toast.”

  “Add some hot tea and you’ve got a deal. Thanks, Gramps.”

  We talked about generalities while he made the eggs and toast. I made a big mug of tea and put too much sugar in it, but it was good.

  “Kevin was here until about an hour ago. He’s not much of a pinochle player.” He laughed to himself.

  I smiled at the idea of Gramps teaching Kevin to play pinochle. “Maybe not but I think he’s a good person. A little broody maybe.”

  “I think so too. You make a good couple. Broody and all.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know we never had that talk you promised me the other night. I’ve been willing to overlook it until now. Maybe now would be a good time for it.” Gramps put the eggs and toast on a plate in front of me and took a seat. “Or we could sharpen up your pinochle skills.”

  “All right! No torture. I’ll tell you what I know.”

  Chapter 15

  “As far as I know, your grandmother never experienced anything like this.” Gramps was pacing by the time I finished talking. “Is it safe? Is this something you should be doing?”

  “It’s not like anyone asked my permission. It started before I left the hospital.” I told him about what happened to Kevin’s FBI partner.

  “That doesn’t reassure me, Dae.” His brow was furrowed with concern. “If Kevin’s partner couldn’t handle this ramped-up power, what makes you think you can?”

  “Because I’ve been dealing with this all my life. Maybe she hadn’t. Because I come from good Banker stock and Mom taught me everything she knew about how Grandma took care of it.”

  “That didn’t seem to have helped you much when you got home.”

  “I know. But that was exceptional, Gramps. I wasn’t ready for it. I won’t forget to be ready next time. I won’t let it take me by surprise again.”

  He took a deep breath. “I guess there’s not much choice anyway. But I wish you’d told me sooner.”

  “Why? So you could worry longer?” I finished my eggs and toast. “I’m sorry. I wanted to understand it better.”

  “And do you?”

  “Sort of.” I put my plate and cup in the sink. “I’m going over to Kevin’s so I can explain to him. He’s probably worried too.”

  “All right. But take the golf cart.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know—just do it or no going out this late. Duck isn’t the same town you grew up in thirty years ago, honey. Take some precautions. I’m going to call that Brad Spitzer first thing in the morning and let him have a piece of my mind.”

  “Don’t do that. I can take care of myself. Besides, like you said, he was only fishing. He was hoping he’d catch something he could use because his best suspect is inconveniently dead.”

  “Maybe I said that, but I didn’t mean it for me. Go on to Kevin’s. Call me when you get there.”

  I hugged him and made him promise he wouldn’t call Brad in the morning. That’s all I needed to get around—the mayor has her grandpa calling to complain about how she was treated. He’d done that once in school, supposedly because I didn’t have a father. Mom and I made him swear he’d never do it again. It had shadowed me all the way to high school.

  I didn’t take the golf cart when I went out. It wasn’t like the cart could help me get away from anyone. I could run faster than it could move. I started to call Kevin but decided against it. I wanted to walk. If his lights weren’t on when I got there, I’d go back home.

&nb
sp; Night shadows haunted the wind-tortured bushes and shrubs, investing every old house and narrow street with ghosts that flickered between lights. It could be easy to mistake the mournful cry of a dove or the sleepy call of a lonely seabird as the sighs of a restless spirit.

  Sometimes I thought that’s all the haunts were in this place—light and shadow mixed with odd noises. The wind never ceased, and the ocean always pounded at the shore. What must it have been like before streetlights and other modern conveniences? How easy was it to believe in pirate ghosts and curses back then?

  I’d wanted to believe in ghosts since my mother died, but as the years rolled on with no sign of her, I began to feel like I’d never see her or talk to her again. The father I had never known wasn’t so much a loss. I didn’t seem to need him because I had my mom and Gramps.

  My ghosts seemed to be made more of loss and anger than grave and spirit. Wouldn’t my mother come to me if she knew how important it was? Unless ghosts really didn’t exist.

  I wasn’t ready to give up yet, but I wondered sometimes. Duck wasn’t like other places where people didn’t seem to believe in the spirit world. I’d found that out when I went off to college. People there didn’t talk about their dead relatives or wonder if a candle flickering was a spirit moving through the room.

  Here, most people had seen ghosts, even talked to them. They never told their children ghosts didn’t exist. Our ancestors’ spirits were as much a part of our lives as our living relatives.

  I got to the Blue Whale without seeing any ghosts or assailants ready to jump out at me. There was a spotlight on the mermaid fountain in the middle of the circle drive. It was always left on—like the porch light—so I couldn’t tell from that whether Kevin was still awake or not. But there was a light on in the kitchen area attached to the bar. I decided to take my chances and knock at the door.

  If he wasn’t awake he might not hear me. But the door opened right away, and he smiled when he saw me. “Dae!” He held me close for a long time before he finally kissed me. “I’m so glad you came over.”